Chapter 7 #2
A blast of laughter from outside the room froze Shaun, every muscle locking as the sound carried through the thin walls.
For one sharp second, the heat between them disappeared beneath the instinctive awareness that someone was close enough to hear them.
Zenko pulled back and cocked his head to one side, listening.
Shaun held his breath, suddenly very aware of how thin the walls were and how easily the rest of the team could hear what was happening in this room.
He waited until the footsteps faded before letting himself breathe again.
Once the sounds faded, he let himself breathe again, and the heat between them returned almost instantly.
He shifted closer to Zenko, following the rhythm they had found before the interruption, needing the contact as much as he needed the distraction.
The chains of their dog tags clinking together were the only sound in the room besides their harsh breathing, and Shaun found something strangely grounding about the familiar sound.
His own tags had been against his skin through every mission, every deployment, every fucking bad day, and hearing them now tangled with Zenko’s made this moment feel more real than anything else had since Syria.
He had stopped noticing weight of his tags years ago, but Zenko obviously hadn’t.
His fingers brushed against the metal at Shaun’s chest, and he glanced down before looking back at him.
“You wear dog tags.”
Shaun glanced down at them before meeting Zenko’s eyes.
“Company issued them. Anyone driving the dangerous routes in the Middle East gets a set. Makes identifying us easier if something goes wrong.” He gave a small shrug, keeping his expression casual. “You’d be surprised how many truckers wear the damn things.”
Zenko looked at the tags for another second before his gaze returned to Shaun’s face.
“Huh.”
Shaun could practically feel the question Zenko hadn’t asked, and he wasn’t giving him time to come up with another one.
“Please.” He needed more, wanted more. “Please touch me.”
Zenko lifted his stomach enough to slide a hand in between their bodies, his knuckles brushing off his own belly as he wrapped his fingers around Shaun’s dick, gathering some of their mixed pre-cum to use as lube before stroking downward.
Zenko’s touch had Shaun’s breath catching, the contact sending a sharp rush of heat through him.
He arched instinctively toward the man, his fingers tightening against Zenko’s skin as the intensity built between them.
Every touch made it harder to think about anything except the man above him.
They both groaned, Shaun from the squeezing of Zenko’s fingers on his dick, and Zenko from bumping the head of his own cock with the bottom of his fist on each downward stroke.
“Fuck.”
“S’good.” Shaun’s hands bunched in the comforter as he threw his head back, soft moans escaping despite his attempt to bite them back.
“Jesus, Zennn.” Their harsh breathing echoed through the small confines of the room, and Shaun didn’t even recognize some of the sounds coming out of his own mouth.
Zenko seemed to be dragging reactions from him that he hadn’t known were there.
“I got you.” Zenko pumped his fist faster, sliding up and down his dick, his thumb swiping across the slit to gather the pre-cum that was freely dripping out and pooling on Shaun’s stomach. “Come for me.”
The command sent another wave of heat through him, and Shaun’s fingers tightened around Zenko’s shoulders as his control began to fracture.
There was something about hearing those words from Zenko, the certainty behind them, that made Shaun believe for the first time since Syria that someone really did have him.
He grabbed Zen’s shoulders and pulled him closer, groaning when Zenko released his dick to use his hands to prop himself over him as their hips continued the erotic rolling that kept their cocks sliding and rubbing together.
Their bodies moved together, the rhythm between them becoming more urgent, and Shaun held on tighter as the heat building inside him threatened to overwhelm every thought in his head.
Breathing heavily into Shaun’s ear, Zenko huskily repeated, “Come for me, Shaun.”
The order did exactly what he intended, and Shaun’s control finally broke. He buried his face against Zenko’s shoulder, gripping him tightly as hot cum splashed between them.
“Fuck… Zen… ugh.” Shaun could barely get the words out, his breathing still ragged as he held on to him.
The reality of what they had just done was beginning to creep back in around the edges, but for a few precious seconds, he didn’t care about Syria, his team, or the questions waiting for him.
He only cared that Zenko was still there, holding him.
Zenko wrapped his arms around Shaun’s shoulders and drew him closer, their faces angling until their lips met again.
Shaun let himself sink into the kiss, and reached for Zenko’s cock. He wrapped his fingers around it, still slick from both their arousal. The man groaned against his mouth, hips jerking forward into the tight circle of his grip.
“Easy,” He murmured, lips brushing Zenko’s as he worked his hand in slow, deliberate strokes. He could feel Zenko’s trembling muscles lock tight with restraint, and something primal uncoiled in Shaun’s gut at the sight. This lethal SEAL, reduced to shaking breaths by his touch.
Zenko shuddered, forehead dropping to his shoulder. “Fuck—your hands?—”
Shaun smirked, twisting his wrist on the upstroke the way he knew would drag a broken noise from Zenko’s throat.
Precum smeared between his fingers, making each slide smoother, hotter.
He mapped every twitch and gasp, cataloging what made Zenko’s breath hitch, what made his fingers dig into Shaun’s hips hard enough to bruise.
Zenko’s teeth scraped his collarbone. “Close?—”
Shaun tightened his grip, thumb swiping over the damp head. “Yeah? Come on.”
Zenko came with a muffled curse, spilling hot over his fingers. His whole body locked, then shuddered through the aftershocks as Shaun worked him through it.
For a long moment, the only sounds were their ragged breathing and the distant hum of the compound's generator. Zenko slumped against him, exhaling hard against Shaun’s neck.
Shaun flexed his sticky fingers, suddenly hyperaware of the way Zenko’s weight pressed him into the mattress, the sweat cooling between them. Reality crept back in—thin walls, shared missions, the grenade they’d just lobbed into their working relationship.
Zenko lifted his head, gaze heavy-lidded but sharp. Studying him.
Shaun didn’t flinch. Let him look.
A slow grin tugged at Zenko’s mouth. “So.” He caught Shaun’s wrist, licking a stripe up his palm that sent a shock of heat straight to Shaun’s gut. “Guess we’re even.”
Shaun huffed a laugh. “Barely.” He flexed his fingers again, watching Zenko’s eyes darken. “I owe you another.”