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The coffee machine hums and groans as it produces Marc’s coffee, he sips it cautiously as to not burn his tongue. Feeling the warm liquid course down his throat, he feels rejuvenated, this is just what he needed. A nice warm cup of coffee. He moves to the side so his subordinate could get his fill of joe too. As they are standing in relative silence, enjoying their cups of coffee the PA system booms to life ordering them to go to their company area immediately. Within a matter of seconds camp Pendleton comes to life with personnel rushing to get to their respective company areas. The air is tense, everyone knows what this means. They are getting deployed, real life starts now. Dominic turns to get a move on but Marc holds him back.
“Manzano, you’re my driver, don’t fuck this up.”
Cups of coffee in hand and with a hurried pace they make their way to the tent where their major is, and about 180 other soldiers are waiting. Major Sam Reynolds is standing in front of everyone, face clad in the sternest scowl imaginable.
“Alright, listen up Marines. You know what’s happening, so I’ll cut to the chase - we’re flying out to Camp Mathilda, Kuwait, just south of the Kuwait-Iraq border. Pack your shit, make your phone calls, get yourselves ready, and then rendezvous at the parade square at 1500 hours.” He says in his usual monotone voice. Howls and cheers erupt from the crowd as everyone gets up. All those young men who have just been sitting around, going for the usual morning run now finally get to do their job.
—
“I don't think I’ve ever gotten my shit together that fast.” Joe jokes, and Dom agrees as they walk towards the parade square with thier giant backpacks haphazardly slung over one shoulder.
They all get ushered into buses that carry them off to the airport. The ride is a rowdy one with every other marine completely incapable of shutting up about how they are going to put their training to use, and get some blood on their hands. The other half, Marc assumes, are having a minor breakdown over the gravity of the situation. This is life or death and he knows not everyone will return with life, limbs or mind intact. War is only a game for the higher ups.
Further down the bus Dominic is clutching his rosary while saying a quiet prayer over the bustling atmosphere of the vehicle. He says a prayer for each little bead, carefully counting them in his head as he goes.
The trip to the airport goes without incident and after the first couple miles the boys calmed down, and were no longer causing a racket.
The marines get herded aboard the plane that will take them to Kuwait, quietly piling into their seats, enjoying the comfort of a civilian aircraft. “Tell you what, Joe, this is better than a C-130.” Dom says as he struggles to fit into the designated space of his seat. The armrests are hugging his sides and his legs hit the seat in front of him. It's going to be a long flight.
“Shit man, we got AC and everything. You think they’ll bring out that little cart with the snacks? I'd kill for some peanuts.” Joey says as he reclines his seat, much to the dismay of the marine behind him.
“I got some fuckin’ nuts for you right here, fag!” Dom jokes as he grabs his bulge through his fatigues.
—
They slowly disembark from the aircraft, everyone seemingly taking their time as they waddle down the aisle towards the exit. The hot, choking air hits Marc like a freight train. It fills his lungs and he finds it hard to breathe through, it seeps into every crevice of his body previously cooled by the controlled atmosphere on the plane.
The drive to camp Matilda is the calmest ride so far, everyone feeling completely bombed after their nearly 19 hour flight and lack of sleep. Most of the boys slept at least a little on the plane, but Marc finds himself really wishing he had gotten more than 5 hours of shut eye.
As they get further away from the capital the road erodes leaving the bus ride a rather uncomfortable and bumpy one. And the heat, oh dear god the heat. More than a few guys had taken off their shirts in an effort to escape the blistering assault of the desert sun.
Dominic had stripped his shirt, mostly just to show off Marc assumes. Marc couldn’t help but ogle a little when he did. Now he was just sitting there peacefully trying to rest, with his big muscly body out on display, and he was glowing. The thin sheen of sweat really added to the overall picture. His soft stomach that wasn’t so soft when he flexed, arms that were thicker than Marc’s thighs, and those big hands Marc wanted all over him resting motionlessly in his lap.
“You busy window shopping, LT?” Dom said, leaning into Marc’s side so the other marines wouldn’t hear. Marcus went stiff as a board and spun his head away so fast it caused a harsh burning pain in his neck. He took in the landscape, it was almost completely devoid of flora, just sand and rocks as far as the eye could see, there was what looked like a small village a couple klicks out. His mind began wondering as to what sort of operations they would carry out here when- slap! Dominic’s big hand landed on his thigh. It gave him a gentle squeeze before coming to rest there. He could feel the warmth of it through his fatigues. He didn’t really know what to do about it. It felt quite nice, maybe he should just leave it there… but people might see and get the wrong idea. So gently, without looking up at Manzano, Marc lifted the hand with both of his and guided it towards Dom’s thigh. Dominic had other plans though and as soon as his hand was in the air he moved it to lay against his crotch, so Marc’s fingers touched his bulge. His Lieutenant let out a sort of subdued yelp and quickly yanked his hands back.
“Don't- don’t make me get you in trouble, Manzano.” Marc bluntly spat.
—
They finally arrive at Camp Matilda, thoroughly exhausted. They all gather, now fully dressed and with their gear, at their designated meeting location, where a Major was awaiting them. He looked proud as can be and as if not even the end of the world would bother him.
“This thing on? Right. Look at you. I mean it, look at yourselves, look at the men to the left and right of you, to your front and back. What do you see? I don’t know about you, but I see the finest fighting force on God’s green earth. I see the finest warriors to ever grace the battlefield with their presence, to ever haunt the dreams of their enemies. I see the greatest men to ever walk this earth, and I see the men that will take down Saddam Hussein. I see the meanest, toughest, angriest, fiercest, best motherfuckers to ever claim the title of Marine. I see men that would love nothing more than to demolish every Ba’athist in this country and bathe in their goddamn blood. We piss napalm, eat concertina wire, and we will shit hellfire on every unlucky son of a bitch that crosses our path. You are United States Marines, and you are the nightmare of all U.S. enemies, foreign and domestic. Shit, you ARE United States Marines, aren’t you? What are you, some pussy ass sailors?”
“NO, SIR!”
“ARE YOU SOME FUCKIN SOLDERS?”
“NO, SIR!”
“WHAT ARE YOU?!”
“MARINES!”
“Oh, come on, I CAN BARELY HEAR YOU!”
“MARINES!”
“DAMN RIGHT YOU ARE! NOW SHOW ME YOU’RE SOME REAL MARINES AND BRING ME SADDAM’S HEAD ON A GODDAMN SILVER PLATTER!” he commanded the crowd, yelling a loud ‘OORAH!’ that the crowd promptly returned.
“Head to the administrative office to get assigned to your barracks.” He finished and the crowd echoed a collective ‘Yes, Sir.’
“Can’t wait to sleep on a cot for a year.” Marcus remarked as they were walking to their barrack tent. “I don’t think we’ll need to be here that long, just you wait and see. I’ll fuckin’ end those ba’athist hajjis. They’ll be running out of here in no time.” Manzano reassured his Lieutenant. Marc met him with an eye roll as they walked inside. “Just you wait till we’re in the shit and we’ll see how moto you are then.” Marc retorted.
Zoning out in the humdrum of unpacking, Marc let the bustling and quiet chatter of his fellow marines get the better of him. Maybe this really wasn’t going to be so bad - They had all the training they needed, right? Yeah, they did. They were all going to make it out alive. “Yo, Big Marc! It’s chow time!” Andrew said, shaking him lightly to get him out of his trance. It took a second for the Lieutenant to get all the way back to earth but he made it.
The three idiots - Andrew, Joey, and of course, fucking Manzano - walked ahead of Marcus, chattering loudly to each other. Someday they were going to be the death of him, Marc thought as he was dragged into the party by a strong arm around his neck. “And here, ladies and gents, is a 5 foot tall ‘cold blooded Marine killer’! Isn’t he just adorable?’” Andrew said without letting go of Marc’s neck. He had to pry himself out of the iron grip the marine had on him.
—
It had been about a day or so since they arrived and they were already getting sent out on foot patrol. Absolutely amazing, just fantastic. “I can't wait to go look at a bunch of sand. Which is famously very dangerous and is in dire need of marine supervision.” Andrew had said when Liszewski had announced it to the little crew. He had then asked if Marc could get them out of it. “No, Jensen. I can’t. I’m sorry that you thought the Marine Corps was all about being an American hero and fucking Thai hookers, but you have to actually do shit sometimes.” Liszewski had replied.
“Shit man, I don’t even want to be here. I’m only doing it for the college money.” Andrew had sulked quietly. Suddenly seeming as little as a 9mm cartridge. Marc always knew that Andrew wasn’t as gung-ho about serving his country as the other boys were, but he had enough fighting spirit that Marc wasn’t too worried. He’d make it out.
They were being sent on foot patrol and, well, people weren’t exactly thrilled. “Ah yes, I love walking around in the desert for a couple hours with absolutely fuck all to do.” Joe whined to the other guys.
“So you’d rather be in Gravedigger, that absolute tin can? I don’t even want to imagine being in there for a whole operation, it was unbearable even when I was just doing maintenance.” Andrew retorted.
“Hey, stop playing with your dicks - Where’s Manzano?” Marcus asked the two men. “Fucker is supposed to be here.”
—
He hadn’t really snuck out as much as he’d just walked out. Most of the guys were playing cards so they either didn’t see him leave or just didn’t care. He was a little worried about his Lieutenant though. “Let's regroup before we head out.” He’d said, but Dominic was a man with a mission. He was unstoppable.
Walking into the armory there was a ginger Marine doing what looked like inventory, he was a little too built for Dom’s taste but he would do.
“Will you give me a M249 if I do you a… favor?” Dom asked flatly.
“Goddamn it, I lost count - And who the fuck do you think you are asking that? This is government property, use what you’re issued.” The man said, turning around to face Dominic who’s shadow completely enveloped the smaller man.
“I said, give me an M249 and I’ll… I’ll suck you off, or something.” Dom said sternly, while staring holes into the poor man’s soul. Manzano had always had a certain ‘dont fuck with me” aura around him, and not just because hes big, no, but because you just don’t fuck with a Manzano and live to tell the tale.
“... Is this some kind of fuck fuck game?” The guy replied.
Dominic walked closer and the man took a step back. “Hey no, I'll suck you off.” He said as he dropped to his knees. The ginger looked at him for a bit, gauging if this was some sort of joke, but it seemed like his intentions were somewhat genuine. He must really want that M249, but then again, what self obsessed asshole doesn’t want to carry around an LMG?
He started rubbing at the ginger’s bulge through his fatigues, and even after a while not much was happening. “Christ, I gotta do this whole thing myself? Imagine I’m your high school girlfriend and we’re fucking behind the bleachers or some shit, just get hard so we can get this over with.” Dominic said, once again staring daggers into his soul.
With a little more coaxing the ginger was finally starting to get hard. And Dom undid his pants to let his cock spring free. It was an okay dick, not pretty by any means but it was fine. Dom had fucked people with worse looking equipment.
Taking the length into his hand he started rubbing up and down the shaft, making a sort of twisting motion as he went. After a couple solid strokes he started lapping at the head tasting the slightly bitter salty pre-come. Dom gagged as he took the length into his mouth, he’d never really been good at giving head. He kept stroking the base as he sucked and licked haphazardly at the head. It didn’t take long for the guy to start moaning and holding back whimpers. His knees had started shaking and it looked as though he was going to spill any moment now. After some more coaxing the guy came into Dominic’s mouth, without warning no less. Dom was frankly a little pissed off, even he had the courtesy to warn a guy.
“Holy fuck, that was good. Alright, I'll give you that M249.” The ginger said.
“Shut up and give me my gun, faggot.” Dom said as he stood up, spitting the cum onto the floor. Quickly getting the LMG handed to him. “Hey! If you ever want to like.. do something more just let me know, I- uh I might be down.” The ginger quickly added, but Manzano didn’t even look back at him.
—
“There you fucking are, Manzano! Where the hell were you? I said to rendezvous here five minutes ago. You’re fucking impossible sometimes.” Marcus scolded. As everyone in the group looked on, some of them adding their own chirps targeted at Dominic. Not soon after they were walking out of the gates of camp Mathilda. It was a simple little mission; walk a couple klicks off base and see if anything happens. It was going to be easy.
As they were walking out towards the gates, Marcus asked: “Manzano, how the fuck did you get that? Where’s your rifle?” As he pointed to the M249. Dominic smiled to himself looking oh so proud of his actions.
“Well, the armory guy is a fag.”
“Okay? What’s that gotta do with you lugging around a 249?” Marcus quizzed at the empty response.
“He’s a fuckin’ fag! Dude said he’d give me this beast if I licked him clean.” Dominic said as if it was totally normal to exchange sexual favors like that.
Marc looked utterly puzzled, what the actual fuck had his subordinate just admitted too? “You what?”
“Alright let me spell it out for you here, I. Sucked. Off-“
“Yeah, I got that, but what the fuck? You’re telling me, your fucking tank commander, that you just risked both your and his careers to… Carry an LMG that you aren’t even supposed to have?” Marc asked, trying to knock some sense into the man.
“Guess so, yeah.” Dom said, mostly to himself.
The heat was like hellfire slicking against every part of their bodies. Carving its way into every crevice, and it was a dry heat. Dry like the desert they were in. It was a tedious job, just walking around in the desert in full kit, and their fucking MOPP suits. Those damn things left you marinating in your own sweat. Marc swears his plate carrier had never felt heavier even after only wearing it for an hour. They didn’t really have an objective set for their patrol, they were just told to go out and have a look, see if trouble came their way or not. So far it looked as though ‘trouble’ was having a day off.
“Burned out vic, 2 o’clock. Eyes and ears ready, we’re gonna move in and check it out.” Liszewski said so the whole group could hear it. He pointed to what looked to be a thoroughly scorched truck. It was so far away that it was hard to make out fully through the mirage caused by the heat. So walk they did, arms ready in case any hostiles felt like adding to their body count.
Nothing seemed out of place or amiss as they walked along, their spirits were in good condition despite the lukewarm foul tasting water in their canteens being their only source of refreshment. That’s something none of them will ever miss, that very specific plasticy taste of hot canteen water. They walked and they chatted, making sure to keep each other in good company.
“What’re you up to once we RTB?” Dom said as he made his way up to the right side of Marc. “Gonna rinse off, this place is like a fucking sauna… How are your arms doing? Regretting that ‘favor’ yet?” He responded.
“You seen my fuckin’ arms? I’m a big mean fighting machine, LT. I ain’t no scrawny motherfucker. And hey, if you’re showering, I might just join you if—” Marc hit him on the shoulder in retaliation for the last comment. God, he’d love to shower with Dominic. There were rumors back in California that Dominic had the biggest dick on base. And even Though he’d never had the balls to steal a glance in the showers, he knew it was big. He’d seen —more like stared at— his bulge, and he was 100 percent packing some real heat.
They were close enough to the car, or rather the remains of it. As one of the marines moved ahead of the group to get a closer look a loud explosion echoed across the barren land. And he was completely gone. The air was thick with tension and everyone had gone completely silent, when a loud scream broke the silence.
“HE FUCKING LANDED ON ME!” One of the private’s yelled, as the others looked there was a big blood stain on his face and at his feet was a chunk of a dead man.The yellow bubbly fat and pinkish silver of the muscle still attached and clearly visible, with the tan skin on top. It looked like a fucked up cake.
Marcus quickly gathered his composure and ran to the body, being careful where his feet landed so as to not hit a landmine. Leaning down to see the remains he noticed the guy was still somewhat lucid, his eyes were lulling about in his head and he was taking very shallow breaths.
Half of his body was gone. His bowels were sticking out from beneath his bulletproof vest, it looked grotesque. It was a bloodbath, it was pouring from him in droves. Marc ripped open his IFAK deftly pulling out the quick-clot and packing it into the artery that seemed to be squirting the most.
“Fuck, we don’t have a corpsman - GET THE FUCK OVER HERE AND HELP ME!” Marc screamed, and Manzano and a private quickly came running over, watching their steps as they ran to help. While being watchful of their surroundings they knelt down next to the mangled torso, he wasn’t moving anymore. And Dom put a gentle hand on Marc’s where he was pushing the quick-clot into the artery. “Marc, take his pulse.”
“I’m fuckin’ busy here, you do it!” He said frantically. The other private leaned over to put his fingers on the poor guy’s neck, getting a feel for his jugular.
“Shit… We got a casualty.”
It had only been one day, and they had already lost someone. This wasn’t at all how it was supposed to go. Marc knew the dangers of being in a warzone, of being at war, but he didn’t want to believe it before. He had never seen a dead body before. He had really hoped he wouldn’t ever see one, but that was probably too much to ask for in this Godforsaken hellscape. He felt cold, even under the desert sun there was a chill running down his spine. This could happen to his boys too.
—
Marcus, and frankly everyone was shaken up about the incident on their patrol. It had only been a couple days but Marcus had been tearing himself up about it. He shouldn't have died like that, a horribly painful death. It wasn’t fair, and it seemed more than ever that all is fair in love and war. Marc had buried himself in work, staying up as late as he could, while neck deep in maps. Planning and plotting their next moves with other officers. He hadn’t gone to the gym or eaten much of anything. It was only when Dom would insist and drag him out of the tent they were using as an office, that they would head to the chow hall together and share a meal in complete silence. Once Dom had said something about it not being his fault, after that he hadn’t seen Marc for a good day or so.
He had finally managed to drag Marc to the gym, but only after one of Marc’s superiors had given him a stern talking about not letting death affect him so much, he was going to have to get used to losing men.
“Come on, you twig. We gotta get you lookin’ like a Marine, ey?” He had said with a firm hand on Marc’s neck. When Marc didn’t budge he had moved to giving him a shoulder massage, it felt good, both the shoulder rub and the knowledge that he wasn’t completely alone in this. He had begrudgingly gone along with Manzano to the gym.
The gym was covered by a thick layer of camo netting, it let the light stream in, in an almost sort of checkered pattern, leaving little shadows akin to that of leaves on a tree. There were a couple treadmills in the gym as well as a squat rack and bench press. It was technically outside but against a building, and against the building wall was a rack of dumbbells. They came in almost every size, even though the smaller ones seemed to have never really been used. Most of the men here were big boys, and big boys do two reps with the heaviest weight they can. Marines and their egos.
It wasn’t that Marc didn’t like working out, no, he quite enjoyed it. He just preferred cardio over strength training, finding it much more fun and satisfying to get a solid runner’s high than to just pick up heavy things over and over again just so that he could one day lift even heavier things. Even though he didn’t enjoy it as much he still had a strength training regime to follow, he had to keep himself in good shape for his job.
“You know what I'm sick and tired of?” Dom quizzed at Marc.
“No?” He replied as he got comfortable on the bench.
“Not getting laid. I can’t take it anymore, man. Shit sucks.”
Marc almost fumbled his rep. “Why don’t you just have sex with one of the guys on base?” He managed as he pushed the heavy weight up and away from his chest. “I mean, and don't take this the wrong way, you’re really hot. Like, you’re tall and you have all these muscles, most of which I'm sure I don't even have. And your eyes are so beautiful, and your face is so captivating I can't make myself look away. And, and… you're just a really hot guy, okay?” Marc fumbled his way through his words, feeling the heat rise in his face.
“Wow, Liszewski. That was tutu-wearing, glitter infused, Zumba classes levels of gay. But ya know, I just might.” He said with a sly smile. Marc fully fumbled his rep and it landed hard on his chest just below his pecs. The sudden impact made his ribs hurt. Dominic then deftly assisted in lifting the bar up and off of Marc. When Marc went to get up off the bench, he felt Dom’s big strong hand firmly keeping him in place.
“You’re not going anywhere, pretty boy.” He ordered with the hand still firmly in place on his chest. “I want to see you doing one more rep, and that’s the minimum.” Marc battled his way through the last repetition, a strong feeling of relief wishing over him when he slotted the bar back into its slot.
After a quick run around the base they headed to the showers. Dom holding the tent flap open for Marc to walk in. “Ladies first.” He’d said.
They stripped in silence with only the sound of the showers flushing in the background. And when Marc looked up from where he had taken off his socks he saw Dominic standing tall and proud completely naked with only his towel covering the important parts. Marc could feel the heat pool in his face, warming up his cheeks. He quickly averted his gaze, now closely inspecting the floor.
“Meet me by the northernmost supply tent, 1930 hours. Sharp.” Dom said before walking off to shower.
Why the hell did Dom suddenly want to talk in private? He usually ever did stuff like that. Maybe Marc had done something to offend the man?
—
The sun had already set, Marc admired the stars as he looked up at the sky. They looked as beautiful as always. When he looked back down from the sky he saw Dominic walking a little ahead of him. Before entering the tent he looked around, almost nervous. The tall man was never nervous, or at least he never showed it; so why now? When he saw Marc he quickly waved him over.
But why did Manzano want to see him? He still hadn’t quite figured that one out. Maybe he really just wanted to talk to him in private. Maybe it was about the incident.
“Oh, come on in, Marc. I won't bite… that much.” Dominic said with an impish smile smeared on his face, his hand quickly found Marc’s waist guiding him inside. Once inside Marcus came to his senses, he straightened up and removed the hand from his waist. As much as he wanted it there, that was simply unprofessional behavior.
“Manzano, why did you want to see me?” At that question Dom pulled Marc closer with his hands on Marc’s hips, leaning down to Marc’s level he said. “You fuckin’ with me? I see you giving me those puppy eyes. Hell, you looked beet fuckin’ red in the showers when you saw me. You’re a goddamn snack, LT, and I’m hungry.”
Going up onto his tiptoes Marc lets his lips connect with Dominic’s, the kiss is soft. Their lips moving in tandem, gently glossing over each other. It’s a nice little safe haven away from all the death and destruction of their daily lives. Dominic let his hands travel up to Marc’s waist, grabbing him tightly, pulling him impossibly closer.
Heat had started to pool in Marc’s gut, hot and heavy, it was weighing him down and clouding his senses. Marc whimpered as Dominic broke the kiss, Dominic smiling sweetly at the defeated sound, a glint appearing in his eyes. Marc just stood there with Dom’s heavy hands tight around his waist. He swears Dominic never looked that beautiful before, his hair in its usual neat style, short on top and shorter on the sides. And Dom’s eyes are as dark as the night sky outside. He was beautiful. Marc put a careful hand on Dominic’s chest guiding him to a tall stack of crates, but Dominic just gently shook his head at the action. And suddenly Marc was being hoisted up onto a crate. His hip bones hurting from the sudden impact.
“Heh… Cute. You’re my commander, so you think you can command me. This ain’t a tank, Marc, but you’re still gonna see some action.”
Marc looks on, a bit confused when Dom pulls him into a hungry heated kiss. Their teeth gnash and their tongues are fighting for dominance, Marc pants into the kiss while pulling at Dom’s shirt. Dominic breaks the kiss again to practically rip off Marc’s T-shirt, making him moan. Hungerly Dominic starts attacking Marc’s neck, nipping at his neck while holding Marc by the jaw. He starts moaning at the kisses, making Dom move the hand from his jaw to cover his mouth so others won’t hear. While he bites at Marc’s sensitive spots he starts palming himself through his fatigues, letting out little grunts and moans as he kisses Marc’s neck.
Deciding he wants more Marc starts grabbing at Dom’s shirt, pulling it out from where it was tucked into his cammies. Dom halts, pulling his shirt off, revealing his sweaty muscled torso. Marc reaches out trailing his hands down his torso, from his pecs to his happy trail finally stopping at his belt buckle. Taking note of the “USMC” burned into the flesh below his belly button. He fights with the buckle for a little while, much to Dom’s delight, before finally giving up.
Dom undoes his belt with quick stealthily hands, pulling his pants down and letting his dick spring free. It hung thick and heavy against his thighs. Marc let himself study it, it was definitely big, turns out there was in fact a very good reason the other boys called him Hog, there were a couple veins stretching their way along the shaft, and one prominent one near the base.
“My eyes are up here, Warsaw. Don’t worry, my dick ain’t going nowhere. But, well… inside you.” He smirked.
Marc snapped out of his trance looking up into Dom’s eyes. God, they were so deep and rich and full of lust. Dom ordered Marc to strip with a firm voice, something not to be disobeyed. He might be his superior in the field, but here, it was clear who was in charge. Dom’s thick hand came to tug at his hard cock, gently dragging the skin from the head back down towards his shaft. Marc hurriedly and clumsily undid his belt and dragged down his fatigues. Sitting buck naked on the crate he continued to look at Dom’s dick, it was beading pre at the tip now.
With a strong and firm hand Dom pushed Marc back so he was laying on the crate. “Spread those legs for me, fruitcake.”
But Marc stayed put, mesmerized by Dom’s body. With a sigh Dom spit on his hole then with an unbothered look and no warning he stuck his thick digit into Marc. Making him let out a hurt sound when the digit penetrated him. The feeling of his insides being messed with by another person was quite foreign to him. Seeing Marc puzzled by the strange feeling Dominic let that self righteous smile creep across his features again before he adds another finger, no extra spit this time.
Marcus starts getting louder from the intrusion, it felt strange but not all too unfamiliar, he had fingered himself before but it was quite a while ago now. He tried to move his focus away from the uncomfortable burning stretch to the fact that it was his Dominic, his subordinate. That, however, had quite the opposite effect, now with his head swimming from the pain and the experience, thoughts about the consequences of his actions were clouding his mind too. This wasn’t something he could have, Dominic wasn’t his, Someone could walk in on them. This was so bad. The panic started to rear its ugly head, and he could hear his heartbeat hammering loud and clear in his ears, his breathing was out of control. He wasn’t getting enough air and the world started to feel like it was caving in on him.
Looking down at his lieutenant Dom noticed something was off. Marc’s eyes where moving rapidly around the small tent and he was borderline hyperventilating. He thought about whether he should do something or not, but landed on the fact that it would probably be more fun if he could see Marc disappear into the warm embrace of pleasure. Gently he put the hand he had been stroking himself with onto Marc’s chest, guiding him to breathe by pushing down and then releasing the pressure. “Hey, level head LT. It's alright.” He cooed at him. angeling his finger up towards Marc’s prostate gently massaging it, causing Marc to let out a half choked moan.
“Just focus on the pleasure, sweetheart.”
It helped in the way that it just made him disappear into a haze of pleasure, he couldn’t think about anything other than the pleasure. Keeping his hand on Marc’s chest he added another finger, and the stretch felt so good paired with the gentle massaging of his prostate. Letting go of the white-knuckle grip Marc had on the edge of the crate; his hand came up to meet Dominic’s. Where he held it with a feather light grip, as if he was afraid to actually touch him, Dom’s eyes went wide when the hand met his, quickly moving it back to his leaking dick. “Seems you’ve had your fun. My turn now.” Dom said as he quickly pulled out his digits from Marc’s hole, making him whimper as a result.
Looking down at the mess of a man beneath him Dom cracked a sly smile, he did that. He was the one who made Marc’s eyes lazy and lids hooded, he was the one who made him pant like that. Dominic spit in his palm and started to spread it over his thick dick. Lining up his shot he positioned himself right up against Marc’s hole, lightly slapping the flared head against it.
“Come on, pretty boy. You know you want it. You know you fuckin’ need it.”
And he did, he really needed Dom inside him, preferably right now.
“Please, Manzano, give it to me.”
“What was that? I’m gonna need you to beg.” Dom growled as he grabbed his lieutenant’s neck, his fingers went way over halfway around it.
“Please, please, please Dominic. Just give it to me, I'll be so good for you, I promise.” He whimpered almost incoherently. And Dom gave in, diving into that tight warm hole made his head spin. Fuck, it was so good, Marcus was so good for him. And most importantly he was all his tonight.
Dominic kept a brutal pace, slamming into Marc over and over again. His hands were gripping Marc’s hips so hard he was sure there’d be bruises there tomorrow. Marc could feel the acidic burn of the muscles in his arm as he was stroking himself, trying to match the brutal pace that Dominic had set for them. feeling his climax quickly approaching Marc asked Dom to kiss him. Looking confused and a little turned off Dominic obliged and leant down to give him essentially a quick peck. His tongue just barely dipping into Marc’s mouth, but it was all Marc needed. His eyes rolled back into their sockets and with sobs racking through his body, shaking him to his core. He painted his stomach and face white with hot ropes of cum.
He could tell Dom was close too, his grip on Marc’s hips tightening impossibly so. He was only just beginning to come down from his own high when Dom let out a deep guttural grunt. And with one last thrust, he fully sheathed himself in Marc, painting his insides with hot cum.
“You alright there, fruitcake ? You look a little out of it.” Dom mocked as he looked down onto the mess of a man beneath him. Marc tried his hardest to glare into Dom’s soul but found it hard to even focus his eyes on the man.
Dom got himself cleaned up by wiping his slicked up dick on Marc’s shirt. And Marc was slowly but surely coming back to reality, but still not quite there. “Fruitcake?” Dom quizzed, worry furrowing his brow.
“…yeah?” Marc mumbled as he sat up grabbing the shirt from Dom’s grasp, cleaning himself up with it. “Shit. Had me worried I fucked you to death for a second.”
They gathered their things and got dressed in a thick slightly uncomfortable silence, Dom was usually so chatty but this had apparently shut him up, Marc would need to remember that. “After you,” Dom said while gesturing for Marc to walk out the door first. Marc walked like he hadn’t just had his guts filled to the brim by the man right behind him. Dom was impressed by the little man. The part of the base they were on was desolate at this time of day and currently only filled with supplies. Dom said a quick thanks to god as he too realized that they were in the clear, as far as they knew no one had heard them.
“Where you headed, LT?”
Marc turned around to face the man, “I have paperwork to do. And I need a shower. I’ll see you tomorrow, Manzano.” Dom looked on as his lieutenant walked away, the pale moonlight hitting his bare back as he had been reluctant to put the cum stained shirt back on.
“See you, LT.” Dominic said to himself as he headed towards the chow hall.