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“Go away,” Din growled.
He didn’t mean to be so… well, mean. Something had happened on the journey across the desert—something he’d only heard rumors of. Half of the stories that blew across Tatooine were just legend anyway. How was he supposed to know this one was true?
“Talk to me.” Cobb shifted on the other side of the door. Their shared lodging had only one room, so Din had been forced to lock himself in the fresher to keep the marshal at bay. Or, more accurately, keep himself under control and away from the marshal. “Maybe I can help.”
“Just leave me be,” he begged.
It was far from what he wanted, for Cobb to just leave him be. But Din couldn’t have what he wanted. For plenty of reasons, but foremost because he rightly felt like he was burning alive under his skin. Din knew that something about it all was beyond his control. He couldn’t risk hurting Cobb Vanth, or any other innocent person, for that matter.
The creature had been just out of sight when they stopped for a water break. Just an hour or so ago, they’d parked their bikes for maybe a handful of minutes. Cobb hadn’t seen the green-yellow scorpion that took advantage of the gap between Din’s boots and his flight pants. It had managed a forceful sting on Din’s outer calf before he’d managed to squash it. Now, the bite mark had stopped bleeding, and a glossy blue liquid oozed from it instead.
He wasn’t concerned about the wound. No, what his problem was now was the vibrating-tingling-burning that spanned every inch of him. It was almost an ache, but deeper. His head throbbed and he struggled to focus his thoughts. His mind raced and drifted beyond his reach. His body longed for relief from the heat. Heat pooling in his throat, on his tongue, on his lips.
Heat pooling below his belt.
It was supposed to be an old wives tale! A stinging desert crustacean with venom that made you worked up—overwhelmed with lust for no one in particular, too strong to function at all. It was said to last for days, if you didn’t treat it right. Din tried to think up the remedy. What was it again? He knew he learned it somewhere. His mind only kept wandering, the more he tried to focus.
Wandering to the lingering touch of fingerless gloves over top of his hands. To the freckles on sun-kissed skin with a lighter natural complexion than his, and to dark brown eyelashes framing warm hazel eyes. It wandered over a faded red scarf and a thin-but-toned chest and a frame that seemed larger under armor, but now struck him as lanky, if no less endearing.
Over Cobb Vanth’s body, and his hair, and his lips. Over the brightness of his teeth, and the wide, self-assured smile that made Din lose the words in his mouth, even when his train of thought was still in his control.
Dank ferrik, Din was screwed. He was hard, and he was desperate, and he was fantasizing about his hunting partner. An antidote probably couldn’t even save him now. The venom only made you want, with no target or goal. Din wanted Cobb, and that wouldn’t change even if he found the cure.
But it would help, at least. It would make Din’s thoughts his own again, at least. It would calm down the burning and aching and dryness in his throat and the way his lips throbbed for—
“I’ll just be cleanin’ my blaster, then,” Cobb surrendered finally.
Din gritted his teeth.
He needed the burning to stop.
“Cobb, wait.”
It was no use pretending that nothing was wrong. Din couldn’t spend all week in the motel washroom, could he? He was only going to get worse from here, and there was no way he was thinking of the antidote with his mind like this.
“Can you—?” He sighed, rubbing his hand over his face and leaning against the door. “Do you know anything about Scorpion antidote?”
“Depends what kind,” the marshal replied.
Din chewed on his lip. God, his throat was so dry.
“Don’t make me say it,” Din admitted. The other side of the door was quiet. “You can probably guess which kind. I always thought they were a myth.”
“Oh, shit,” he breathed softly.
Din gritted his teeth. “I’m sorry to put you in this position. I just—I can’t remember the cure. It’s on the tip of my tongue, but it’s difficult to focus.”
Cobb was silent for a minute.
“Marshal?” Din questioned. It was getting way too stuffy in the tiny refresher. “What is it?”
“There’s only one antidote that I’ve ever heard of. It’d be a day’s ride or better just to get to a market where they’d sell the medicine, though.”
“I can’t wait that long,” Din pleaded.
Cobb thought on it. “There’s another way to help.”
“What?” He was desperate at this point. His mouth was drier than the sands and his cock was as hard as it had ever been before.
He swore he could hear the smile in Cobb’s tone.
“Indulge yourself. Scratch the itch, so to speak.”
Din was too shocked to do anything but laugh. After a moment, he realized Cobb was serious. “Won’t that make it worse? Scratching the itch?”
“Not for this,” assured Cobb. “Trust me. As a Tatooine native. It’ll go a lot quicker if you give into it.”
He wasn’t sure. Din wasn’t a young man anymore, and he didn’t know how much indulging he could do, especially after their long day of bounty hunting.
“I can help, if you want.”
Shit. Did he say that out loud?
“You sure did, partner,” Cobb chuckled.
Maybe Din was more far gone than he thought.
“I’ve seen this stuff make men delirious for days. It’s really best if you do somethin’ about it now.”
“It doesn’t sound like a good idea,” Din spoke carefully. Some of his thoughts about Cobb did not need to be accidentally said out loud. “Surely you can’t be comfortable with it.”
“I don’t mind,” countered Cobb. “Can’t imagine there’s much of anything to make me more uncomfortable than you are right now.”
Din sighed. “I guess that’s true.”
A tiny spot of precum stained his flight suit. Of all the times Din had wished that he’d had a codpiece, this was vying to be the most embarrassing. His whole belly ached—desperate for relief and release. The thought of Cobb being the one to give it to him was mortifying, only because it was so enticing.
“We got a deal, then?”
“What if I hurt you?” Din questioned, his hand already on the doorknob. “I wouldn’t mean to—its hard to stay focused.”
Again, Din could swear there was amusement in Cobb’s voice. “Wouldn’t be the first time a lover’s been less than gentle with me. I can handle it.”
Dank ferrik. Din couldn’t take it anymore. The door swung open and Cobb stepped back as Din rushed out. He threw his helmet on the bed, thanking the Maker that it wasn’t the first time he’d taken it off in front of Cobb. Din haphazardly pawed at the rest of his armor.
“What’re you offering?” Din asked, barely restraining himself from just plain pouncing on the man.
Cobb raised his brow. “What do you need?”
In place of an answer, Din closed the gap between them in two strides, catching Cobb’s lips and gripping him tight.
He matched Din’s pace instantly, deepening the kiss into something that was almost feral. Din explored his mouth until he was blue in the face, using the hand that wasn’t hooked around Cobb’s neck to unbutton his flight pants and shove his boxers down past his dick.
“Lay down,” Cobb ordered between gasps.
Din obeyed without a second thought, his mind empty of anything but Cobb and want and need. Cobb climbed on top of him, holding Din down with his body weight. His hand replaced Din’s own, pulling his painfully-hard length from his flightsuit.
His lips rejoined Din, and Cobb kept him pinned with his arm firm across his chest. He stroked Din slowly but steadily, his callouses catching where precum didn’t quite cover. More quickly than Din would have liked to admit, Cobb pulled his first orgasm out of him.
The relief lasted only a moment. Din’s cock made no effort to soften, even as Cobb slowed his movements and cum stopped spurting out along his knuckles.
“Didn’t work,” Din said sheepishly against Cobb’s lips.
Cobb laughed. “One round is barely scratching the surface, I’m afraid.”
Din whined. He needed more?
“How many more?”
“As many as it takes,” offered Cobb.
The second round was more comfortable, with Din’s spend lubricating Cobb’s movements. Even held down by the marshal’s weight, he couldn’t help but buck into his hand as Cobb pulled a second orgasm from him.
Din whined and trembled. His balls were still heavier than he could bear, and his cock was still straining and fully hard.
“Again,” he panted. He bit at Cobb’s lip when he tried to pull away. “Please. Again.”
“I’m gonna give my hand a break,” Cobb explained.
Din furrowed his brow, opening his eyes to ask Cobb what he meant, when suddenly Cobb was climbing off of him and rearranging himself. A second later, he was down at the foot of the bed, caging Din’s hips under his elbows.
In one swift motion, he took half of Din’s cock into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and nearly sending Din up to the ceiling with how hard he jolted at the sudden suction.
“Cobb!” Din groaned. Tears were in his eyes. “Fuck, Maker! That feels—”
He sank down another inch and Din’s words died in his throat. Even hard as he still was, his body was having a hard time keeping up with the stimulation. Din’s orgasm grew slower than the last, giving him plenty of time to feel every move of Cobb’s tongue and bob of his head.
It gave his mind the chance to wander again. To want. His hand flew to Cobb’s hair, probably gripping it painfully tight.
“So good,” he heard himself say. There was no telling really if he was even talking out loud. His whole body was pins and needles, and so was his mind. “I’m glad that it’s you. You’re so good.”
His third orgasm hit with more force than the first two, stealing his breath and his strength for a minute or two. Cobb caught the spend in his mouth, spitting it into the waste bucket while Din regained his ability to move.
“So good, Cobb. Knew that you would be. Always wanted you. Knew that you’d be so good.”
If he was saying it outright, Cobb wasn’t commenting on it.
Din managed to pry his eyes open and see the outline underneath Cobb’s pants. He was enjoying himself, too. It probably wasn’t personal. It was a natural response to fooling around. It would happen with anyone, not just Din, right?
He wished it was personal.
“You’re turn,” mumbled Din. “Wanna suck you off.”
His mouth was so dry. Nothing sounded better than sucking Cobb’s cock right now.
“Ain’t about me,” he argued.
Din pawed at him anyway. “I want your cock in my mouth.”
He caught Cobb’s belt loop, pulling him down to grind against him. Din caught him in another kiss.
“Please,” he amended.
Cobb groaned, his hips stuttering.
“Sure, darlin’.”
His fourth orgasm was pulled from Din by his own hand, with Cobb’s cock buried deep in his throat and his nose brushing the base of his belly. Din knew that the venom was messing with his body—his urge to gag was all but gone, despite his inexperience.
After a slightly smaller load of cum had finished pouring over his hand, Din finally felt his dick start to lean into the idea of softening. Of course, it didn’t last too long. He’d barely finished Cobb off and swallowed down the ropes of cum that spilled down his throat, and Din was at full mast once again.
It was going to be a long night, wasn’t it?
feygrim Thu 12 Dec 2024 07:33AM UTC
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mademoiselle_luz Sun 31 Aug 2025 10:02AM UTC
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