A/N: Thank you for all of your reviews and favorites. And thanks for the promotion on tumblr. Yeah. Uh. Bye.

Chapter Four.

It was hard to balance when two people were completely glued together. Piers was struggling to stay upright with the way he and Chris were stumbling almost awkwardly to the bedroom of their suite. He and Chris were fused together, almost every body part touching. Chris was drowning Piers in affection, too. Kissing and biting his neck while his hips ground into Piers' with such force that Piers' head was reeling.

"Captain," Piers was moaning breathlessly right into Chris' ear, and each time he did, Chris doubled his effort and Piers' stomach grew uncomfortably hot. Chris was relentless on Piers, never faltering while Piers had to work hard to keep up with him. He was so hard it was literally painful. He wanted to beg Chris to at least give him the friction of his hand, but Piers did not want to wound his pride. Not like he hadn't already. They were almost to the bedroom, just a few more steps. Chris pushed him along, and Piers complied, speeding up their effort to the bed.

After what felt like an eternity and a thousand kisses and touches later, they were at the bed. Chris pushed Piers down onto it, hovering on top of him before pressing his hardness into Piers'. Piers threw his head back and let out a groan. Jesus, Chris was being straight forward. Chris began thrusting against Piers, Piers' body jolting with the impact. It was such delicious friction. Piers' eyes rolled back, completely lost in sensation. They both weren't making noise, just panting, each breath giving one another a silent agreement that everything about this was right. Just so right.

Piers feels close, and he hates that Chris can control his body so damn easily. "Chris, it's...it's too much..." And what does Chris do? Doubles his efforts. He thrusts harder, faster. Piers is shaking, gripping Chris until his knuckles went white. He's at the edge, just a few more thrusts and Chris will have thrown him off of it.

One. Piers arched into him, his chest heaving. "Don't stop, Chris, don't stop," he's moaning uncontrollably.

Two. Piers' body shaked harder than ever, anticipation and pleasure running through his veins like an addictive drug. One more, and he'll come undone. He's gasping for air, his head thrown back, his eyes shut; his vision was already beginning to go white. One more. One more.

One more that never comes. Chris gets off of him, and Piers gives a noise between a growl and a whine, bucking desperately against where Chris' body was just a moment before. Piers was to scream in frustration. Damn Chris.

"Get undressed," Chris' voice is husky but has a demanding tone, so Piers rushes to try to get his jacket and shirt off. It's not fast enough for Chris, evidently, because he's suddenly on top of him; basically ripping Piers' clothes off in an attempt to free him. Eventually, all of Piers' clothes are discarded, and he's naked underneath a fully clothed Chris. Piers almost feels self conscious. Almost. But really he has no time, because Chris' lips are back on his with a demanding and needy tongue. Piers kisses back, sucking on Chris' tongue to savor his taste. Chris makes a growling noise at the back of his throat.

Suddenly, Chris' hand is stroking down Piers' body, starting at his chest and moving downward. Piers gives a moan in response, his body arching under Chris' hand. Chris moves at a slow pace, his hand eventually teasing the sensitive skin right above Piers' groin. Piers whimpers, desperately wanting to buck his hips. Chris wants him to beg, he knows, but he won't. He'll lay here all night without a single regret than beg Chris to fuck him. Nope, nope, nope. After a moment, Chris' hand finally decends, and takes hold of Piers' dick. Chris does a quick, rough pace; Piers panting into the crook of his neck. Piers' arms latched around Chris' neck, finger nails digging into the sensitive skin there. He was panting, a light sweat breaking over his body as Chris' hand pumped him closer and closer to release.

Chris turns his head to kiss Piers, and Piers basically smashes their lips together. He's needy. Chris' hand tightens and ache in Piers' gut is getting stronger. Piers is shaking again, just like before, little moans coming out of the back of his throat. Chris moved to Piers' neck, kissing and biting and with each show of affection, the heat in his stomach was becoming unbearable.

"Piers," Chris' husky voice was suddenly in Piers' ear. Piers was too far gone to respond, his body was so close to release he could taste it. Chris kissed the skin right below his ear before continuing, "come for me." It game as a hushed whisper, and Piers' body instantly obeyed, arching into his touch and erupting into Chris' hand. Chris kisses Piers, swallowing Piers' moan.

Piers' chest heaves for a long moment, while Chris gives him lazy, sloppy kisses that he returns with the same lazy sloppiness. Piers finally catches his breath and kisses Chris harder, in which Chris pulls away and sits up. Piers gives him a questioning look.

"We should stop," Chris says, and Piers suddenly feels confused.

"What?" Piers asks, and Chris meets his gaze.

"Because it's not what you want - you've made that clear, and yet I still break the rules, as always," Chris looks away again, "you don't want it Piers, even now. You're overwhelmed, pleasured, but overwhelmed. And I'm taking advantage of you. It's wrong, and you're right about that, Piers."

"But I-"

"Look me dead in the eye and tell me you want to sleep with me, and I'll consider it," Chris says, his voice gruff. Piers looks up at him, meeting his gaze, about to open his mouth. Then it goes away, and he realizes that Chris is actually right.

Piers does not want to sleep with him.

"I...I don't want to sleep with you," Piers says, his voice quiet.

"Exactly," Chris says softly, gently caressing Piers' face, "you don't. Get dressed and we'll find something to do, okay? Promise."

"Alright," Piers feels utterly embarassed. Truly embarassed, and he wants to curl up and pretend this night didn't happen. He sits up, trying to keep his dignity, and picks up his clothes, swallowing hard. Chris doesn't look at him, and that hurts the most. He swallows again, trying to ignore the burning in his throat of embarassment and for an odd reason, rejection.

He gets up and walks to the bathroom hurriedly, shutting the door and locking it behind him. He rushes to put his clothes on, just wanting to get out of this damn suite where the smell of sex was suffocating. After getting dressed, he gives himself a once over in the mirror.

Piers has new hickies everywhere. His lips are once again swollen and bruised from Chris' treatment and his hair is messed up. He looks like he took a wrong turn into a strip club in Vegas. His eyes are too wide, adrenaline still running through his system. He felt disgusting.

Filthy, filthy, filthy, as usual. His brain whispered and Piers rubbed his face. He was starting to believe everything the damn thing said.

:.:.:.:

The night was quiet, and Piers and Chris didn't really speak much to eachother. Piers longed for Chris to talk to him and smile at him. He was given neither. The only conversation that they had was before they went to bed on who would sleep in the bed. Piers took the couch, and they were both stuck almost awkwardly in the doorway of the bedroom.

"Good night, Piers," Chris finally breaks the silence, and Piers looks up at him. They meet eyes, and Chris swallows as if he's debating something. His hand lifts and caresses Piers' face.

Please, kiss me goodnight. Please kiss me. Please tell me that you still want me. Please.

Chris removes his hand and shuts his door, shutting Piers out and into darkness.

:.:.:.:

Throughout the first week of the two of them being there, they kept up on the bioterrorist group called Terra. It was a weird name, yeah, but still. They tried their best to keep up with them. With all the busy things going on, the night that they almost had was forgotten. All memories about it gone.

On Chris' part, anyway.

Piers tried not to think about it. Some nights he could go to bed fine, and some nights he was so hard he couldn't stand it and had to act like it didn't exist to try and go to sleep. It was a horrible way to live.

This morning, Piers felt shitty. Chris had picked up on his mood, and obviously tried to make him feel better. It didn't work. They went out to breakfast and went into town, but Piers still felt utterly horrible. When they got back to the suite, Chris was quiet. Piers wondered if it was because he gave off a "leave me alone" aura.

Chris was currently ordering room service, and Piers looked at him and smiled. Tried to smile. The look Chris gave showed that he didn't do a very convincing job of it. Chris hangs up the phone and walks over to Piers, whom is sitting on the couch, and sits beside him. Piers meets his gaze.

"You gonna be okay, Piers?" Chris' voice is soft, and Chris massages the back of Piers' neck. Piers relaxes and even sighs in contentment. It feels nice. Piers once again looks at Chris. He's not sure what compells him to do so, but he leans forward and his lips press to Chris'. Chris is funnily enough, taken by surprise. Chris kisses him back, but only briefly before pushing on Piers' shoulder. Piers won't have it.

"Don't push me away," he whispers and smashes his lips to Chris' again. Chris responds for a moment and then pushes on him.

"Piers," he breathes, and Piers doubles his efforts to kiss him again. Same result, pushed away. "Piers."

"What," Piers snaps, trying to kiss Chris again.

"Piers, stop. What's the matter with you today? Knock it off-" Chris' words bite off into a groan when Piers forces his hand between his superior's thighs. Piers squeezes, and needily presses his lips to Chris' again. Chris kisses back, gasping against Piers' lips. Piers loves that fact that he's causing the erratic breathing. Chris and he kiss for some moments, until Chris, eventually, gets Piers off of him, "stop, stop, stop."

"Why?" Piers whispers, and Chris sighs, getting up from the couch.

"Piers," Chris says, crouching in front of him, "you don't want this. I know it, you know it, and the only reason you're doing it is because you're scared that I'll shove you away if you don't. Piers, I won't just drop you, I'm not that kind of person. Just because you and I had a thing for one night doesn't mean that we've gotta keep it going, you get me?"

"Yeah," Piers whispers, and wishes he didn't feel so damn rejected. This is what he wanted, pure partnership, right? That is what he was working for all this time...right? He's so confused.

"Piers," Chris' voice is soft as he tilts Piers' head up.

"What?" Piers whispers, and Chris sighs.

"You know that I'm not mad at you, right?"

"Yeah," Piers actually isn't as sure as he'd like to be.

.:.:.:.:.

Chris was gone today, off on whatever business he pleased. Piers tried not to worry about him, even though it was evening. So he sat in the livingroom, watching television. He was getting bored, though. It was just stupid soap operas and dramas at this time of night, so he turned it off and decided to go to bed. And that's when the door opened.

Chris entered the room quickly, and he spotted Piers and came to a halt.

"Welcome back," Piers greets, sounding normal. Chris doesn't say anything, "Chris?"

Chris instead closes the distance between them and without any warning smashes his lips to Piers'. Piers is taken by surprise, and then he tastes the liqour. He's about to pull away completely and scold Chris for drinking, but he doesn't get the chance to have a level head. Chris' hand is immediately between Piers' thighs. Piers gasps into Chris' lips, Chris' tongue taking advantage of Piers' mouth being open.

Piers wants to keep this situation under control, but it's too damn hard with Chris kissing him as if his own life depended on it. He's getting hard under the attention of Chris' hand, Piers' mouth giving slight whimpers. Chris' lips move in a frantic hurry to Piers' neck, nipping at his skin.

"Chris," Piers says breathlessly, "Chris, stop." Chris doesn't, he continues, squeezing Piers' growing hardness, and Piers can't help it, it just feels too good. Piers lets a moan escape. Chris begins to strip him, Piers' body tingling with anticipation.

"Get to the bedroom," His voice is rough and slurred, but Piers immediately obeys and walks down the hall, Chris behind him in hot pursuit. As soon as they enter the bedroom, Chris closes the door and he attacks Piers' clothes, basically ripping them off.

Piers doesn't care at this point.

Chris kisses his collarbone, pulling Piers' body to his mouth. Piers shivers. He lets a small moan out of his mouth, and Chris' lips come back up to his jaw. Piers is pushed down onto the bed, Chris is kissing him, and he's kissing back. Then suddenly when Chris pulls away, everything goes black.

Piers doesn't understand at first. Did he pass out or something? Then it hits him. He's blindfolded.

"C-Chris?" Piers suddenly feels the panic that should have started ages ago set in his bones.

"Shush," Chris says, raising Piers' arms over his head and pressing them to the headboard. Is Chris...tying him up? Piers swallows.

"Chris, what're you doing?" Piers asks, and he wishes his voice was more even. Chris' hands drop from Piers' and Piers is grabbed roughly by the chin, his hands now permanantly against the headboard.

"Didn't I tell you to be quiet?" Chris asks roughly and smashes his lips to Piers. Piers can't see him, and for an odd reason, that makes the kiss hotter. When Chris is done kissing him, he pulls away and gets off the bed, "now be a good boy and be quiet."

Piers swallows, the "good boy" going straight into his body, setting fire to his veins. He feels his face flush. Then, everything is silent. He doesn't hear anything; no rustling of clothing, no movement, no breathing. He's tempted to call out, but he was told to be quiet, so he doesn't. Then suddenly, Chris' calloused hands are on his body, and Piers trembles underneath him.

Piers can't see him, can't see what he's planning, and that makes adrenaline run through his veins. Chris' mouth was on Piers' neck, his collarbone, going down. Piers swallows, panting. His mouth travels downward, and suddenly falters, going to...his left nipple. Piers gasped, arching his back underneath the warm wetness of Chris' mouth. Piers feels Chris' teeth graze the sensitive flesh and he shudders. Oh god, oh god.

Suddenly, Chris is gone, and Piers whimpers under the cool air that touches his wet skin. Then all is dark silence again. Piers feels like a bug under a damn microscope. He doesn't know where Chris is, what Chris is looking at, and really, it makes him nervous. Piers tries to be quiet - tries to be calm, but it's becoming difficult.

Highly difficult.

Without warning, skin brushes his skin, and Piers gasps. Piers wonders if Chris is naked now, and that makes him blush. Good god, he felt like a virgin about to have sex with their long-term boyfriend. Chris doesn't really touch him again, but Piers feels his weight shift and hears something being dragged across the top of the nightstand. What was he grabbing?

Piers focuses on listening, but Chris is being quiet. Really quiet. For how fucking drunk he is, I'm shocked he can even manage being quiet, Piers thinks, and then he feels it. Between his buttocks there's pressure. What's Chris doing? Piers wants to panic and squirm. He feels Chris fingers stroking his enterence and Piers isn't sure how he feels about it.

"Shhhh, it's okay," Chris' voice is in his ear. Soothing. Comforting. Piers relaxes. Piers feels one of Chris' fingers slide into him, but he doesn't stiffen. But what is Chris doing? Then another finger, and that hurts a tad and Piers stiffens a bit. Piers doesn't know why, though, it's not like he's never slept with other men before; it's not like Chris is the first man Piers has been in love with. And Piers is definitely not a virgin.

But for an odd reason, Chris makes him nervous. Then he realizes it. Is...Chris...lubricating him...? Wait, wait, wait. Wait. This was going to go way too far, and he wanted out now. He started to squirm, his wrists stressing against what-ever-the-fuck was holding him in place. It felt like rope.

"Chris, let me go. Untie me, now," Piers says, trying to move his body, "you're drunk, let me go now." Chris' weight is suddenly gone. Piers breathes an anticipated breath, expecting to be untied so he can do what he should have done: scold Chris. He waits, but that is not what he gets.

He feels Chris thrust into him.

It's painful, and Chris isn't going slow. It hurts and Piers hisses. "No, god damn you! I said no!" Chris feels huge. It's painful, and Piers wants to fight against him, but he's tied up. So this was Chris' plan: tie Piers up so he can't fight back when he decides to fuck him. Piers feels like a lamb led straight to slaughter. Chris stills, and Piers debates if it's because he feels the need or if he's waiting for Piers to adjust.

Whatever, Piers just wanted the night over.

Piers feels Chris start to thrust into him. Pain, but at least it wasn't as bad or as searing as earlier. Piers just lets it happen. After that it just becomes a weird pressure that's not quite painful, but not quite pleasuring either. Just kind of...stuck in the middle. Piers feels like it will last forever, until Chris hits a bunch of nerves and it makes Piers arch off the bed.

Okay, so maybe it wouldn't be forever. Piers heard Chris' chuckle at his reaction, and he hits the same nerves again, and again, and again. Piers can feel Chris' lips against his jaw, and he can feel himself shaking. Piers doesn't really focus after that: all he can feel is the pleasure coursing through his veins and the aching in his cock.

He desperately wanted to touch himself, but he and Chris were so close he doubted he would be able to if he could. Piers also resented the rope because it kept him from touching Chris. He wanted to touch him so desperately. He wanted to feel Chris' muscle underneath his hand, he wanted to grip him. But Piers couldn't, he was tied up.

Suddenly he feels Chris' hand on his aching member, stroking in pace with Chris' thrusting. The pleasure increases, Piers' gut becoming tight, so tight. Piers is gasping, his body getting closer and closer to the edge. Chris kisses Piers everywhere, each one adding more pleasure to his senses. A stroke of his cock, a brush of Chris' lips, a thrust into those nerves.

He wouldn't make it much longer.

Not with Chris fucking him like this. He's close already, and the more he pays attention to how it feels, the more pleasureable it becomes. Chris hits those nerves again, and Piers is shaking. He's so close he can fucking feel it. Please, please I'll do anything, please, Piers begs in his head.

And Chris gives it to him. He thrusts into him and squeezes his dick and just like that, his orgasm hits him and he arches up, moaning Chris' name; his seed pouring over his stomach. Chris keeps thrusting into him after that, and then he stills, and Piers feels his seed fill him up. Piers squirms a little bit underneath the uncomfortable sensation. Chris unties Piers' hands, and takes off his blindfold; curling up beside Piers. Piers should be angry, should be furious; but he's too tired.

He's also savoring the moment by kissing Chris who kisses right back. Piers doesn't know when he'll get this chance again. They should clean off, but Piers' body is weighed down by exhaustion. He yawns. Chris kisses his cheek.

"Get some sleep, Piers, I'll be here when you wake up," Piers lets his eyes shut and he instantly feels the darkness of sleep consume him while he was being warmed by his superior's body.