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As his feet hit the tarmac, Simon could feel an overwhelming exhaustion wash over him. This mission wasn’t particularly difficult but it was a long one. He was restless and irritable all the way from exfil, his leg bouncing involuntarily as he sat in the helo.
Alas, before he could confine himself in the dark recesses of his room, he had to go through the soul-draining post mission shite. And so, he powered through the debriefings and reporting, turned in his equipment and got the medical evaluation done. By the time he was out of the showers, donning his skull print balaclava, it was already time for dinner. But gouging down the MREs in the noisy mess hall did nothing to relax him, if anything it made his already fraying nerves unravel like a cheap clothesline. It wasn’t a surprise when he couldn’t sleep later that night.
At nights like these, when he can’t get a wink of sleep, when his head buzzes and his leg won’t stop bouncing, when the restlessness makes him twist and turn continuously on the firm mattress of his cot, Simon looks to his Captain for help. He put on his shirt, got his balaclava and slipped out of his room to head to the office. The office which still had its lights on even at this hour.
Sometimes Simon feels guilty for needing Price to relieve stress. The old man is already busy enough as is; he doesn’t need Simon to burden him further. But the Captain allows it; and Simon tells himself that he’s also helping the guy relax by doing this. At least he hopes he does.
Simon knocked on the door, the taps light and hesitant from nervousness. I’m never getting used to this. He thinks to himself.
“Come in,” came the reply from inside.
He opened the door and closed it shut as he entered.
“Captain…”
“Ghost,” he looked up, “Trouble sleeping again?”
The taller man could only muster a shy nod as a blush crept up his cheeks, thankfully, obscured by the mask.
“C’mere, love.” Price beckoned, his voice deep and raspy, making Simon shiver where he stood.
He could already feel himself getting hard.
Simon promptly dropped to his knees, and crawled up to the old man. Price turned in his chair and spread his legs, giving the man a space between them. And Simon, ever the obedient soldier, settled there like that’s his rightful place, like he belonged there. A shuddering breath escaped Price as he looked down at his beautiful boy sitting between his legs, nuzzling his thigh. He was sticking his nose up his Captain’s crotch, taking in that delicious musky scent that made his head spin, all while looking him in the eye and batting those pretty pale lashes.
“Putting on a show for me, love?” he chuckled, ruffling his hair.
Simon’s reply to that was licking up a broad stripe on his clothed cock over his khakis. His eyes were intense, as if saying, “You want a show? I’ll give you one.”
His teeth latched onto the zipper, pulling it down. Price decided to help his boy, freeing his heavy and hard cock. Simon’s face basically glowed at the sight. He took it in his hand, gave it a tug, almost reverent. Kissing the tip of the cock made him almost moan at the taste. It was so salty and bitter, and the musk made it impossible to keep his voice in check.
Simon took the swollen, red tip in his mouth, indulging in its bitter flavor. He was taking his time in slowly sucking it, enjoying Price’s sharp inhales and gasps. And then he took the whole of it down his throat, making his esteemed Captain spit out a throaty moan. He stuck it in deep, his nose buried in the curly pubes. He was lost in the scent, the taste, the weight of Price’s cock on his tongue and his beautiful blue eyes filled with lust and adoration for him. It was grounding, it was gratifying, it was addicting.
“Fuck! Good boy, Simon! Good boy!”
Ghost was having the time of his life, when suddenly he felt a pressure on his crotch. His eyes widened as a shiver wracked through his body and he moaned, choking on the dick his mouth. He looked down, only to see Price pressing his boot into his groin. The old man then run his hand through his short blonde curls, only to use them as leverage and thrusted his dick deep into Simon’s throat. He kept thrusting with a harsh pace. In and out, in and out. And Ghost could just melt at the feeling. He loved it, loved it all so much. He could just live like this, being nothing but a little fuckdoll for his Captain. No need to think or feel shitty, just being used by him and experiencing all this delicious pain and pleasure he bestows upon him. Yeah, he could die like this, being with his beloved Price. With his head on his lap and his cock in his mouth, eyes rolling and watering and drool running down his face.
He could feel it, he was close and so was Price. His thrusts were becoming erratic; his breathing was becoming more and more ragged. Praises were falling freely from his mouth, like a sacred fountain Simon could drink from forever. Then he felt a twitch and Price bursted in his mouth with a wild groan, his rich thick seed flowing down Simon’s throat and he swallowed it all like the good boy he was. He didn’t even realize when he came. Price pulled himself out of his throat and kissed Simon’s forehead.
“You did so well, doll,” he said gently caressing his face, “so well.”
Simon just smiled up at him, with tears and drool on his face. They stayed like this and he didn’t even remember when he fell asleep. All peaceful and well rested, safe in his Captain’s hands.