All Good Things
Alex rolls over onto his back, sheet dragging with the twist of his body to wrap around him like a shroud. The night is warm and sticky. There's nothing even resembling a breeze coming in through the window even though it's flung wide open. He slings an arm over his eyes and sighs. Being dead would be more comfortable.
In the bunk below, Mueller's got a girl. She's making all kinds of sounds, quiet and soft, muffling them in Mueller's pillow. They've been going at it for close to twenty minutes now. Alex is convinced Mueller has shitty rhythm, and that's why he hasn't gotten the girl off yet, but it's more likely that Mueller just doesn't care about whether or not some off-base slut comes before he does.
Alex doesn't really want to listen, but it's impossible not to. Just thinking about the slick of sweat and the flush of heat where skin touches skin makes his temperature skyrocket. He's dizzy, floating, losing his breath like he's losing atmosphere, and then Mueller moans and the raw sound goes straight to Alex's dick.
"Fucking hell, can the two of you hurry up," Alex snarls. He rolls onto his belly again and kicks his legs free to push off the wall and hang himself halfway off the bed. His erection digs into the mattress. "We've got manoeuvres at 0500," he mutters.
"Gimme a break, I haven't gotten laid in a week," Mueller says. His cock is shadowed, and his hands are dark against the girl's pale skin.
"Then you should be quicker about it," Alex says. The play of muscle beneath Mueller's shining skin is hypnotic.
Whoever she is, the girl really is a slut; she doesn't even stop rocking back against Mueller's thrusts. Alex eyes the bulging swell of her breasts as her chest is crushed against the sheets. But, somehow, the sweet curves of her body doesn't light the same fire in his guts that watching the smooth flex of Mueller's chest does.
"Hey, partner," Mueller says, and Alex lifts his eyes, heat turning to cold when there's no doubt he's been caught looking.
Alex swallows. His dick aches. "What?"
"You want a turn?"
Now the girl reacts, tossing an indignant look over her shoulder. "You can't just pass me around, you know," she says, but then her eyes flick up and she gives Alex a measuring look.
"Who said anything about you?" Mueller says. He pulls out of her and his cock is flushed dark, shining with her juices. His eyes stay locked with Alex's, and he fists his dick, pulling the foreskin back to expose himself more. "Well?"
"Pretty boy like you, I always knew you were a faggot," Alex says.
Mueller laughs and kicks the girl out of his bed. "Get out," he says, shoving her the bundle of her clothes.
She leaves, cursing the both of them, and Alex reaches out, fists the tight curls of Mueller's hair, and pulls him into a sloppy kiss.