Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Remembrance ❯ Remembrance ( One-Shot )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Pairing: ViciousxGren
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Jupiter Jazz I and II
Summary: Getting a little time off together is a good thing... right?
------------

Gren bit back a groan as Vicious thrust into him again, hand clutching at the thin sheet beneath his body. The narrow bunk rattled against the wall, rhythmic banging distressingly loud over the slap of sweat-slick skin on skin, Vicious' harsh pants in his ear... but there was no one to hear them, he remembered suddenly. Not a soul in the entire barracks other than the two men writhing on the cot, rest of the unit taking much-appreciated liberty in the canteen before the lot of them shipped home....

The panting against the side of his face grew louder, mixed with a low rumbling as the white-haired man slammed into his ass again and again. Gren knew he was close, could feel it in the bruising grip on his hip and he started to sneak a hand down to his own cock, hoping to finish soon after, if not with... he stopped short at the man's feral hiss.

"No!" Vicious didn't so much as pause his fierce rhythm. "Leave it... I'm not...." He froze, finally, balls-deep in Gren and filling him with his climax. He finished his sentence with a growl. "... done with you yet."

Gren clawed the sheet in frustation, his cock *painfully* hard between his belly and the bunk, but he of all people knew better than to argue with the man bent over him. He whimpered as Vicious pulled out of him roughly, blinking up as he was unceremoniously rolled onto his back. "What...?"

Vicious' face was as unreadable as ever. "You said you wanted something to remember."

"I... yeah...." Gren resisted the urge to squirm under that flat grey gaze. It sounded silly when Vicious said it like that, like Gren was some lovesick thing watching her man go off to war, wanting one last night, some memento of her love. Instead of a man returning from war who wanted... something to take home. A memory of his comrade, his... lover. "You don't have to...." He started to sit up, only to sprawl back onto the bed as Vicious planted a hand on his cloth-covered chest and shoved. What... in the world was he going to do to Gren with his pants refastened?

"You want this." Vicious didn't bother tucking in his shirt, just buckled his belt and leaned forward over Gren's half-clad body, and the harsh thread of his voice was the only sound Gren could hear. "You beg for it... beg for me to fill you up. Well." His lips twisted, the closest to a smile Gren had ever seen on his face. "I'm going to."

Gren *did* squirm that time, suddenly conscious of the picture he must have made; laid out under the sharp-featured man, long blue hair tangled and stuck to sweaty skin, bare from the waist and aching, blush rising in his cheeks as he realized what Vicious meant to do. "Oh... oh."

Vicious turned to fetch the discarded oil from the foot of the bunk, then fixed Gren with a look over his shoulder and knocked the back of his hand against one knee. "Spread." Gren swallowed and obediently did as he was told, gripping the backs of his knees and spreading legs and asscheeks wide. Vicious turned back to him, hand dripping with oil, and grunted his approval. That made Gren blush even harder, for some reason, made him feel... exposed. Vicious narrowed his eyes, like he was inspecting something, and without further warning plunged two fingers into Gren's ass up past the second knuckle.

"Jesus!" Vicious was always rough with him, but damn... that was still *sore*. He squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip so he wouldn't cry out again, and then he felt a hand grip his face.

"Open." Fingertips dug into his cheeks when he didn't immediately obey. "*Open* them, Gren. Look at me." Other fingers twisted inside his body, coaxing, and with a gasp Gren's eyes flew open. "Nobody here but us... and I want to see you. I want to hear you. Understand?"

Gren nodded, slack-jawed and speechless with the burn that was rapidly turning to pleasure with every twist and push inside him. Vicious patted his cheek, more condescending than tender, then braced himself on the bunk with that arm. "Good... good.... Relax."

Relax, he said, even as Gren felt another finger pushing in to stretch and stretch... this wasn't so bad, Vicious took the time for three now and then when there was no reason to hurry. But this was different, something much larger than Vicious's cock was going to be inside him and he... *wanted* it. His gasping moans stirred long strands of white hair where they hung in his face, Vicious poised over him like a mantling bird... like a predator over his prey, and there was something in his eyes....

"Oh God... oh, *God*...." That had to be four, the *burning* was incredible, and Vicious' breath was washing over his face as he murmured to him.

"That's right... no one's ever done this, have they?" He took a long breath, nostrils flaring to pull Gren's scent into his lungs. "No one was ever this far inside...."

"N-no... Vicious...." There *was* something in his eyes, Gren realized, astonished. Something... feral. Primal. A spark Gren had only ever seen before on the battlefield. If this was what it took, to turn that gaze his way....

"No one... but me." The white-haired man sounded almost smug, and with a twist and a sudden *shove*, his cupped hand slipped past the ring of Gren's muscle. Gren's eyes went wide, deep blue staring up out of a shocked, flushed face, and his hands fell to pluck feebly at the bedsheets as his body tried to adjust to this sudden *presence* inside him.

A suddenly *moving* presence, as Vicious started to thrust his hand... bare millimeters that could have been miles, for the effect they had on the blue-haired man on the bed. Fingers and knuckles and oh, God, what was that, the joint of his thumb? Gren didn't know, didn't care about anything as long as that hand kept moving.

Vicious' eyes narrowed, gleaming, watching Gren writhe on his buried fist. Every tiny motion made the man's cock leak and jump against his belly, pulled hoarse shouts from his throat and Vicious drank every bit of it in. His whisper was fierce. "You let me inside you, Gren. No one... does this... but me."

Gren would have agreed with him if he'd had breath left for it, anything, everything Vicious wanted to hear... but something brushed against his prostate and it was too much, he was screaming and coming and screaming Vicious' name, and the last thing he saw before his world went black -- some trick of the light, surely, an errant shadow -- was the triumphant smirk crossing Vicious' face.

***************

Vicious finished wiping his hand clean on Gren's spare shirt and tossed it onto the floor by his bunk. He spared a glance for the blue-haired man -- still out cold -- and after a moment, he leaned over and lifted one of his eyelids... hmm. He'd come around eventually. Gren's limbs were loose and sprawled across the bunk just as he'd fallen, the flush of climax barely faded from his skin. He made quite the picture, Vicious had to admit, quite the surprise for whoever found him... he frowned.

He'd always been possessive, Mao had ridden him incessantly for it. Now, suddenly, he decided no one should walk in on Gren and find him half-naked on his bunk, so he lifted long legs up onto the narrow mattress and pulled the blanket up over him. If Gren was still out when they came to roust him out of his bed... well, that wasn't Vicious' problem. Clothes in order, cloak pulled tight around him, he stopped in the doorway and took one last look back at the unconscious man.

Something to remember him... Vicious' thin lips stretched into a grin. Oh yes, Gren would remember him. In fact... he would *never* forget this day.

The door slammed shut behind him. Gren didn't so much as twitch.

***************

Gren's eyelids fluttered, slits of blue showing beneath his lashes, and he groaned. He was... lying on his bunk. Right. Someone had pulled his blanket up... Vicious, his brain supplied, finally catching up to the rest of him. But where was he now? Gren started to sit up and groaned again. Oh... *God*. He'd feel that for a week, he was sure, but wasn't it worth it? He rolled to his side this time, gingerly levering himself upright with his arms, and looked around the room.

No sign of Vicious. Well, maybe he went for food... or water. Gren cleared his throat experimentally and winced. Oh yeah, he'd screamed himself hoarse... he *thought* he remembered that part. And something else... hmm. No sense in lingering here, he could easily meet Vicious over at the canteen. First he needed pants....

Minutes later, after a great deal of muttered cursing, Gren was dressed and... mostly composed. As composed as he was going to get, with that well-fucked daze still lingering, the loose gait that practically screamed, "I just had a man's fist in my ass." He walked out of the barracks, stepped to the side and nodded politely at the two MPs approaching. He couldn't think who they were looking for, there'd been no one in barracks but him... they stopped and faced him.

He blinked at them, puzzled. "Can I help you?"

"Grencia Mars Elijah Guo Eckener, you are under arrest for treason...."