Author’s Note:
This is an unedited, ongoing serial that will eventually be published in novel form. Plot/characters/elements are subject to change as it is being written. It’s currently in 1st person/present tense, but I may change it to past tense, excluding the first chapter which will act as an intro. Read at your own discretion and take note of story tags below.
Genre: Post-Apocalyptic sci-fi
Tags: prostitution, graphic sex, large age gap, violence, theft, drug/alcohol abuse, depression, rape, gang rape, cannibalism, murder, incest, child/infant death and abuse, general abuse, (more to be added as the story goes)
Despite Pytre not weighing more than my right leg, I’m gasping for breath by the time I reach the hostel. I have to shift him in my arms to reach the keypad, and he nearly slips out of my hold when I push the door open with my shoulder.
Apple is lying on the bed with his back to me, naked from the waist down, with the neck of an aluminium water bottle sticking out of his ass.
“So… how many credits did you just piss away?” he says peevishly as he turns. Apple’s eyes widen. “Who’s that?”
“Move,” I growl, my arms trembling from the strain of holding Pytre. Apple quickly does as he’s told and I set my burden down on the bed with a grunt. I grab the bottle of lube as it rolls towards Pytre and toss it off the bed.
“Oh, wait, I know him,” Apple says, leaning over the bed. The bright silver bottleneck catches my eye again and I frown. “That’s the Rimer who hired me, ain’t it?” He straightens and my imagination paints such a vivid picture of the bottle lodged up his ass, it’s like I’ve got x-ray vision. I swallow. Outside of some cock-sucking and a few rounds of mutual wanking when we’re not fucked-out from work, Apple and I don’t have a physical relationship. In fact, the only time I fucked him was the day we met. However, right now all I can think is how I’d like to pull that bottle out of him and plug his hole with my dick instead. What about the promise I made to him? No sucking, no fucking. Well, sure, he sucks my cock from time to time but that’s on him.
“What’s with the… um…” I say, gesturing vaguely at his nakedness.
Yeah, when I pull the bottle out, I’ll keep his cheeks spread and spit a few times into his gaping hole before giving it a good drilling. I’m giving myself a raging hard-on but I can’t help it. Pytre’s got me wound up tight.
“I got a date with Herc later,” he says. “I figured I’d go prepared.”
“Ah.” Turk the Merc is well known for his excessive love of implants and his massive cock is the stuff of nightmares. Well, unless you’re like Apple—he seems to like the challenge.
Apple’s brows slowly move towards each other and he narrows his eyes at me. His skin is mostly cleared up and his stubble is less patchy, and he looks like a different person. His face has changed for the better in other ways too, like his jaw is wider and cheeks sharper—what with the mop of blond curls and exotic eyes, he’s turning into a real stunner. I clench my teeth, uncomfortable with his scrutiny.
“What?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Apple says, taking a step towards me. He tilts his head to the side, pauses, then unzips his shirt, dropping it on the ground. I look down, breaking his gaze. He’s got a great body, muscular, but not in that fake way, and his dick is pretty too. Jesus. I can feel the sweat trickling down my back.
Nonchalantly cupping the bulge in the front of my pants, he grins. “Wha’s this, eh mis’tuh? Whatchoo wanna?” he says playfully as he squeezes my meat. “Hm?”
I let out a shaky breath, not trusting myself to speak. What would I say anyway?
“You like that?” he breathes, massaging my dick through my pants.
“Yeah,” I reply, closing my eyes. His breath feathers my face as he moves in closer and I feel the barest tickling touch of his lips on mine. Not a kiss, just a tease. As he’s unclipping my belt, I look down into his mismatched eyes, breathing hard. “You don’t have to.”
Apple licks his lips, his gaze intense. “I know.” He slips one hand into my pants and grabs my dick. The sound that comes out of me is a strangled groan and he chuckles.
“Your hand’s cold,” I say, my voice hoarse.
Grinning wider, Apple tugs my pants down to my thighs and takes my cock in both hands, stroking it slowly. “It’s too bad I’ve already got a date tonight… I’d let you stick it in me…”
“Oh yeah?” I swallow, trying to play it cool, but the way my dick is jerking and twitching in Apple’s skilled hands probably paints a crystal-clear picture of exactly how much I’m dying to “stick it in him”.
There’s something mischievous about Apple’s expression—I know he’s enjoying torturing me. “Buuuut… I don’t think Turk’ll like the sloppy seconds and I have to leave soon,” he says with a little pout. Disappointed, I just close my eyes again, reminding myself to be thankful for whatever he’ll offer—he’s still jerking me off, after all.
Just as I’m starting to get close, Apple lets go of my dick, and I open my eyes to find him bent over, bracing himself on the foot of the bed. He shakes his pert backside at me, wagging the bottle like some sort of perverse tail.
“Ok… go on. But don’t you dare cum inside me.”
“Right.” I fumble with the greasy neck of the bottle, hands clumsy with excitement, and pull it out of him slowly. His pucker stays open, a deep pink cavern, then it winks shut as he looks over his shoulder at me, his grin crooked. I’m literally dripping by the time I push the head of my cock into him, and when my whole shaft just slides into him, easy as a pie, the sound I make can only be called a whimper. Jesus.
I can’t see his face because he’s turned away from me again, but the moan that comes out of him sounds genuine. I think.
Hell, why do I care?
Grabbing hold of his hips, I pound my cock deep into him a dozen times, doing mental gymnastics to prolong the moment as much as I can, but it’s no good, and for a sec I nearly forget about pulling out. Gritting my teeth, I yank my dick out of Apple and spray his back with a long groan.
“Boy, that was quick,” Apple says, looking back at me with a laugh.
“Fuck,” I say, panting. Then I freeze, because I see Pytre’s awake and staring right at me. I can’t tell what his expression is, I’m all fog-brained, but I think it’s either shock or disgust. Damn it. Apple gives me a curious look and turns to see what I’m staring at.
“Oh, hi there, preacher man,” Apple says cheerfully, still bent over the bed, his hands to either side of Pytre’s feet.
Pytre just blinks slowly at Apple then lifts his eyes to mine again.
“I uh,” I say, backing away from Apple to pull my pants up. “You’re awake.”
“Hey, wait! You’re not done here,” Apple reminded me.
“Sorry.” I’m so jittery, I nearly trip over myself getting to the toilet unit on the other wall. I grab the towel above the basin then clean up Apple’s back as best as I can, all the while avoiding Pytre’s gaze. When I’m done, Apple straightens and turns towards me, surprising me by pecking a kiss on my cheek just as I make eye contact with Pytre again. The ex-Rimer’s expression doesn’t change but the rims of his ears are suddenly very pink.
Pytre followed me into the desert, suffered god only knows, and this is his reward. Yeah, he should have known better.
“I’ll be home in a few hours,” Apple says, pausing at the door. The smile he gives me is strange—I’ve never seen it on his face before. “Have fun.”
I watch him go, wondering why it feels like I’ve done something doubly wrong, then I turn back to the bed. “That doesn’t usually happen,” I say, my voice gruff because I’m embarrassed and annoyed at myself.
Pytre’s eyebrows rise and his forehead wrinkles up like ripples in the sand. “I see.” He looks away and starts to sit up, so I drop to a squat next to the low bed and give him a hand, shoving the one lumpy pillow between his head and the wall as he scoots back. “Where am I?”
“Drenner’s Discount Hostel.” I wince, my knees aching from the strain, and use the bed frame to get up high enough so I can sit on the edge of the mattress. “Off Launch Drive. Not far from where you found me. You passed out.”
“Oh,” he says, rubbing the top of his head. He won’t look at me. “I don’t remember.”
“You want something to eat now?”
“Yes… Please.” This time he does meet my eye and the smile that curves his lips is earnest. “I’m famished. I could eat for days.”
I nearly jog down the stairs to the row of vend-o-tron machines and then pick one of everything that’s edible, trying not to think about my diminishing credits. Worse comes to worse, I’ll sell some blood to make it up. Or… I’ll let Turk have a go at me. I know he’s interested—he’s said as much. Walking back up the staircase with my arms full, I try not to think of Apple prepping himself for Turk’s monster. I can do it if it means getting Apple and me off this rock.
I stop at the door. Shit, what about Pytre? He’ll want to come too, won’t he? Or maybe not after what he just witnessed.
But if he does want to come… that’s going to complicate things when it comes to division of labour. I can’t imagine Pytre slinging ass alongside the two of us, but I doubt he’s got much in the way of real skills to do anything else. Shit.
Pushing open the door, I start to say something about the vacu-packaged bounty I secured, but I see that Pytre’s fallen unconscious again. I step into the room, dumping the food on the storage unit and lean over the bed to check his pulse. Just as I touch him, he smacks his lips, wrinkles his nose, and lets out a soft snore.
Chuckling to myself, I sit down on the bed next to him. Not unconscious—only asleep. I watch him for a few moments, then I reach out and take his hand in mine, careful so he won’t wake. I shake my head and sigh, squeezing his hand gently. You shouldn’t have followed me, I think at him. Shaking my head again, I touch the light on the wall, dimming it. But I’m glad you did.
We’ll figure something out.
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