"So, your little fight with Fergus..." Escobar says, liquid black eyes tracking Swoff's progress across the cots. Swoff turns and shrugs, dogtags clanking dully on his bare chest with movement. "Yeah, and?" "You know the rules." "Oh no...no," Swoff states, backing up, hands in the air. There's no way Escobar's serious. Here? Now? "C'mon, man, that's not --" "You know the rules," Escobar repeats, implacable and menacing. Swoff can't suppress the inward shudder of need. But he's not just going to break -- hell, Escobar would be disappointed if Swoff didn't fight back. "He fucked me over. I'm not supposed to retaliate?" "Your own fault for shirking your duty," Escobar replies, biceps bulging from under his faded desert t-shirt as he crosses his arms. "We've all done it." "We all didn't get caught." "Yeah, and Sykes already busted my balls," Swoff replies, narrowing his eyes in (mostly) pretend annoyance. He still can't see how Escobar thinks he's going to get away with this here, practically in the open, where anyone could walk in on them. Unless he bribed the rest of the team with God alone knows what...(and really, Swoff wouldn't be surprised). "I ain't Sykes," Escobar states, "and this ain't about the Marines punishing you." "I'm not..." "Unless you want me to come over there." Time to switch gears -- but not too much. Fight's still not over yet. "Fuck you," Swoff replies, he obediently fumbles with his belt, and starts unbuttoning his BDUs. "When you're done, set yourself here," Escobar says, patting his knees. Swoff stops, and his pants -- nothing underneath -- fall to his ankles, unnoticed. "You want me to lay on you? Like some sort of kid?" "Ain't using a belt," Escobar shrugs, patting his thighs again. "It'll leave marks, and we can't afford that. Now c'mere." "I didn't sign up for this," Swoff grumbles, as he shuffles forward, head bent. "Yeah, you did. First night I took you, you signed up for it. And you know you deserve it or you wouldn't be here." Swoff gives Escobar his best glare -- who doesn't even blink, the cocksucker -- and, with a sigh, Swoff drapes himself over Escobar, bare ass poking up in the air. He feels like a damn sacrifice. His cock is already hard. "That's more like it." Swoff waits in fearful, hopeful silence and then jerks when Escobar's hand comes down hard, leaving (he's sure) red prints on pale skin. Yeah, right, didn't want to leave marks...more like wanting the tactile sensation of hitting Swoff himself, he thinks. Swoff bites his bottom lip, determined not to cry out, to give Escobar the satisfaction of hearing him. Bastard, he thinks as Escobar's hand comes down again. Another hard smack, then another, and humiliation burns through him like acid, warring with shocks of delicious pleasure. It's always like this with Escobar -- and Swoff knows he's addicted. "Had enough?" Escobar murmurs, finally, and Swoff nods his head, biting back furious tears of pain and need. "Want me to fuck you now?" and Swoff nods again, practically crawling onto Escobar's lap, so eager he'd be ashamed of it, if he didn't want it so damn bad. "And you'll be good?" Escobar asks, sliding fingers, slick with lotion inside Swoff, twisting and scissoring. Swoff pants 'yes', body on fire from Escobar's touch, ass on fire from the remembered feel of Escobar's hand, desperately seeking full lips with his own as Escobar replaces his fingers with the hard slide of his cock. Finally, yes, please... "Harder," Swoff gasps, and Escobar obliges, pushes up as Swoff grinds down, Escobar's cock filling him, thick and full and more, more, always more, thighs flexing, tasting the sweat in Escobar's hard kiss, the burn of each thrust, dogtags pressing, digging into his skin as Escobar hauls him closer, moving, always moving, taking, claiming, please... "That's it," Escobar croons, and wraps a large hand around Swoff's aching cock. "Gonna come for me now, baby?" "Ain'tcher damn..." And that's as far as Swoff gets before Escobar slams into him again, fingers tightening, and Swoff's half-hearted denial is drowned out by a harsh groan of pleasure so loud that Escobar has to kiss him again to muffle the sound. Swoff clings to strong shoulders as aftershocks ripple through him, and Escobar grunts his own release. "Feeling better?" Escobar asks softly after a few minutes. Swoff shudders again, nods, and Escobar wraps strong arms around him for a last, tight hug. "Need to get dressed, then. We got duty in ten." "Don't see how you expect me to move," Swoff grumbles, but he slides off of Escobar's body, reluctant and slow, and starts cleaning himself up as best he can before sliding his BDUs back on. "I'll make it up to you later," Escobar grins, and Swoff just shakes his head. He'll never admit it (and Escobar would never expect him to), but already, he feels better. Being trapped in the Suck isn't all bad sometimes.
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