Work Text:
Ezekyle slips back into the First Captain's quarters late, stripping off his robe and peeling out of his bodyglove without lighting a lumen. There's one still lit in the cubicle with his bed, anyway, dim orange light that's plenty to see by. He smiles. He was hoping he'd have company.
He finishes undressing and pads over to the sleeping cubicle to discover Sigismund stretched out in his bed, breath slow and even, skin turned golden by the soft light. The scars and ports forestall any comparisons to ancient statuary, but he's handsome nonetheless. Ezekyle puts a hand on his shoulder.
Sigismund's eyes snap open, muscles tensing under Ezekyle's hand—but only for an instant before he relaxes again, rolling over to make room in the narrow bed. Ezekyle slides in beside him, cock already hardening. "What a nice surprise."
"I can see how surprised you are." Sigismund slides an arm around Ezekyle and they lean into the kiss together. Sigismund is getting hard too, as Ezekyle's tongue fences with his and their bodies slide against each other. Ezekyle runs a hand down Sigismund's back to palm his ass and squeeze, and Sigismund groans into his mouth.
Ezekyle bites his lip fondly. "How do you want this?"
Sigismund reaches for the lube and presses the bottle into Ezekyle's hand. "Here." He rolls onto his side, offering Ezekyle his back. Ezekyle kisses his nape above the port, popping the bottle open without needing to look and slicking his cock. "Please," Sigismund says, shifting one leg up to encourage Ezekyle to take him.
"Fuck yes." Ezekyle lines up against Sigismund's ass and pushes at the same time that he bites Sigismund's nape. Sigismund shudders, tight hole yielding just enough for Ezekyle's cock to press in. He's so hot inside, flesh so soft and yielding it seems incongruous for a warrior as hard as the Black Knight. But he pushes back to meet Ezekyle's thrust with no hesitation, exhaling in satisfaction.
Ezekyle wraps an arm around his waist, rocking into him slow and deep. "Like that," Sigismund says, "Throne, Ezekyle, yes."
"Yes," Ezekyle agrees, holding on tight. Sigismund will likely have to accompany Dorn when the Imperial Fists leave for Terra, and then who knows how long it will take before they see each other again. They'll need to make this last.
They move together, slow and synchronized and savoring the friction. Ezekyle wraps his hand around Sigismund's cock, pumping it in time, foreskin sliding under his fingers. They know each other, breath and bone.
Sigismund comes first but not by much, Ezekyle following him with a groan. They go still, hearts slowing, warm skin sticking together. Despite the hour, Sigismund seems in no hurry to disengage.
"Staying here?" Ezekyle asks.
Sigismund nods. "You too." He reaches back to put a hand on Ezekyle's hip. "Stay right here."
Ezekyle chuckles, nuzzling closer and breathing in Sigismund's salt-and-steel scent, still comfortably buried inside him. "As long as I can," he promises, and closes his eyes.