Lieumon Week, Day 2: Flirt

From behind the mask, I watched my Lieutenant. I couldn't tell what he wanted. He was usually all business, and was by far the most efficient man in my forces. We'd built this revolution from the ground up, and some of the best ideas, like the false scar I wore behind the mask, were all his. He was a better organizer than I'd ever be, and all my speeches and demonstrations could not have kept the revolution together without him. With so much riding on his abilities, I would have expected him to be completely serious in pursuit of our goals.

He was serious, sometimes. When there was something that needed his attention he devoted all of his focus to taking care of it. But whenever we had any time to ourselves, that was when I didn't understand him. Our quarters were connected. We spent time every night planning for the future, mapping out what we needed to do to push the revolution forward. In that privacy, his speech suddenly became laced with subtle innuendos and double meanings. I had to question my own sanity though, because his face stayed as serious and composed as ever. Was I inventing something out of thin air? I found myself distracted even in public, trying to find a deeper meaning in everything he said.

The weeks wore on, but my confusion only grew. He made no further move and I decided that the best course was simply to pretend nothing was happening. Was it only in my mind that the innuendos became gradually less subtle? I thought that it must be my imagination when I thought his hand lingered on my shoulder in public. It was only a coincidence that his fingers softly brushed mine as he handed me that scroll. That intense, unwavering eye contact was the same as it always had been.

However much I was making up, it forced me to think about him in strange new ways. I lay awake at night staring at the wall dividing our rooms. In company, but especially alone with him, I was constantly aware of the way his muscles shifted under his clothing. I realized I was comparing his long, lean lines to every other man in our acquaintance. His icy blue eyes haunted me, and every time he touched me the contact was electric.

It all came to a head one night, just like many others, as we sat on the floor of my room and planned. I had been painfully self-conscious about touching him since I realized how I had been thinking about him. We were deep in a conversation and moving markers representing soldiers around a map of Republic City. He thought that we should secure the docks on Yue Bay first, but I was certain that we should expand our area of control from one central location. Without thinking, I reached for the marker he held. As our fingers met, I froze, staring at our hands and suddenly afraid to look up and see his face.

"Amon?" he said. The moment stretched on and I could not move. "Noatak?"

I started and looked up at that name and met his gaze. I hardly knew what to think, but he smiled at whatever he saw in my eyes. He slid his hand up to hold mine, pressing it for a second before lifting it to his lips. I sighed at that touch and without thinking bent forward to him. He was up on his knees, and leaned over me and captured my face in his hands. I closed my eyes as he kissed me, losing myself in the heat of it. He was rough and demanding, and I moaned against the contact. I wanted him closer, I wanted more of him, I wanted less clothing, I wanted everything.

I pulled him forward as I leaned back, lying down against the floor. He ground down against me, but I cursed as the forgotten markers from the map dug into my back. As I struggled to sit back up again, he realized what was wrong. He stood up, taking my hand to help me up. He suggested that we find a bed, and as I stammered agreement me was already turning, still holding my hand, and led me back through the door to his quarters.

We fell onto his bed together, reluctant to break the kiss a second time as we both blindly fumbled with each other's clothing. He was the first to undo my pants, and I gasped as I suddenly felt his hand on my bare skin. I could feel him pressing against my thigh and renewed my efforts to undo the buckles on his clothing. We stayed that way for some time, each with one hand down the other's pants and the other fumbling with their shirt. Finally, we were forced to pull apart and toss the clothing off the edges of the bed.

I paused, suddenly realizing I didn't know how we should move forward. My Lieutenant caught my hesitation and smiled reassuringly at me. He reached up to a shelf over the bed and pulled down a small bottle. If I was alright with it, he told me, he had this... I went bright red as I realized what he meant, but I managed to nod. He dropped one quick kiss on my neck and slid down the bed to kneel between my legs.

I was unbearably tense with expectation as I raised myself on my elbows to watch, but he moved slowly. He kissed his way slowly up the inside of one thigh and reached up to run his fingers softly along my cock. My breath caught as I watched his lips move closer and closer to my cock, but he stopped and smiled teasingly up at me just before he reached it. He took the bottle then, and squeezed out a generous amount of liquid onto the fingers of one hand. I jumped as those fingers brushed against my ass, and he asked if I was alright. I told him to do it.

The feeling as he slid one finger into me was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. There was a little pain, but the sensation of being filled was indescribable. He watched my face as he slowly moved it in and out of me, and after a minute that finger was joined by another. That definitely hurt more. He watched my face carefully, and moved his mouth to my cock. Without breaking eye contact, he ran his tongue from base to tip, then leaned over to take me into his mouth. I almost didn't notice when he slipped another finger into me. I nearly came right then, as he moved slowly up and down my length. He pulled away just before I could finish, and I protested against that loss of contact.

He only grinned down at me as he repositioned himself. I stammered to a stop as I felt the tip of his cock pressing against my ass. He squeezed more lube over it, and I shivered at the contrast between the coolness of the liquid and the heat of his body. He pressed forward agonizingly slowly, and I managed not to cry out until he was buried completely in me. There was pain, a great deal of pain. He froze, gently dropping kisses on my neck and chest and stroking my cock with one hand. After some time, I felt adjusted to his presence in me, and started to move slowly against him.

This was unlike the fingers, unlike anything I could have imagined. As he thrust forward, the feeling of being stretched to capacity, the feeling of taking him all in was unbearably pleasurable. Every time he rocked forward, his stomach slid against my cock, and he leaned forward to kiss me again, wrapping his fingers in my hair. My breathing was ragged, and I lost myself in the rhythm of his movement, but when he paused to lift my hips higher and pushed into me again, his cock hit me in a way that took pleasure to new heights. I came so hard my vision went gray, pulling him close with hands that shook. He thrust a few more times before he stopped, burying his face in my neck as he came, moaning my name over and over.

He pulled out of me and rolled over to lie on the bed next to me, our arms and legs still tangled. I leaned my head against his chest as my breathing gradually slowed. He softly stroked my hair while we lay there as the minutes slowly crept by. Finally, he pulled back a little and I looked up at him. "Well," he said, "It took you long enough."