impala_chick (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
impala_chick) wrote2025-02-08 09:20 pm
impala_chick) wrote2025-02-08 09:20 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Just for Tonight (Masters of the Air, Bucky/Rosie)
Title: Just for Tonight
Pairing: John "Bucky" Egan/Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal
Rated: Explicit
Word Count: 3,002
Summary: Egan flirts with Rosie. It takes Rosie a little while to catch on.
A/N: Written for![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ficinabox. This rarepair compels me!!
Fic on AO3
Rosie is leaning against the bar contemplating whether or not he’s going to have a third drink when Major Egan comes up on his right side and puts his elbows on the table.
“Hey, you’re underwear guy, right?” Egan says with the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Rosie nods. “Guilty as charged.”
He was told that the Majors of the hundreth expect all of them to kiss their asses, so he keeps his voice appropriately upbeat, even though he really wants to grind his teeth and high-tail it out of this embarrassing conversation.
Egan huffs a laugh while he waives down a waiter.
“What are you drinking?” Egan asks. “Next one's on me.”
Rosie briefly considers saying that he’s done for the night, but he shouldn’t walk away from a Major’s invitation. He asks for a whiskey on the rocks, and Egan orders two.
“You know, I heard you’re a great pilot already. You probably don’t need our advice,” Egan says once the drinks come.
Egan is apparently picking up where their awkward conversation left off a few days before. Rosie narrows his eyes and considers Egan’s words, unsure whether he’s being sarcastic or trying to be nice.
“Thanks. Still, there’s nothing that can compare to experience.”
“Yeah, I don’t have the words to explain, is the thing.” Egan says into his drink. “You just have to do it.”
Rosie sighs. He knows what he means now, having gone on his first mission already. But before he can think of something appropriately sympathetic to say, Egan’s eyes widen like he’s just had a brilliant idea.
“You like music, Rosenthal?” Egan asks.
So Egan does know his name. He must have been fucking with him earlier.
“Yeah,” Rosie nods, already sure this is one of the weirdest conversations he’s ever had. “Why?”
“Because I love music,” Egan says as he slaps his palm on the table, apparently for emphasis. “You’ve gotta hear me sing!”
That makes Rosie laugh. He’s heard that Major Egan will take the mic with minimal cajoling, but he hasn’t had the pleasure of experiencing a performance yet.
“Oh really? Well, the band tonight isn’t half bad,” Rosie says, egging him on.
“C’mon, I’ll sing something for ya.”
Egan puts his hand on Rosie’s elbow and tugs him away from the bar. Rosie lets himself get dragged past several Majors and over to the dance floor. Egan pushes him gently into one of the chairs lining the wall. Rosie is careful not to spill his drink as he sits.
The band starts up a jazz tune that he instantly recognizes as the Cole Porter song Begin the Beguine. It’s no easy song to sing. Egan saunters towards the mic stand, his whole body exuding exaggerated confidence. Rosie hears a few people in the crowd groan.
All eyes are on Egan as the band moves to the second verse, and Egan opens his mouth and belts out the lyrics. He’s bad. He can’t even match pitch. But his eyes are bright, his smile is inviting, and as he sways to the music with the mic stand in his hand it’s obvious that he’s having a great time.
Rosie leans forward with a huge smile on his face. Egan’s enthusiasm is contagious and his smile is magnetic. His body rocks to the rhythm, his hips making themselves known in a way that has Rosie thinking maybe Egan could really dance if he had a partner. Rosie can’t look away, even though his ears are bemoaning the butchering of the song.
Egan gets to the last verse, and he belts it while looking right at Rosie. He winks when he sings the “Darling, I love you” part, which only makes Rosie burst out laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all. Egan might not be talented, but he lets the music move him, and Rosie is entertained despite himself. Rosie stands up and starts clapping as the song comes to its triumphant end, and Egan takes a bow.
He gives Egan a high five as he approaches him.
“So, what did you think?” Egan says, eyes glittering.
Rosie is feeling bold. It would appear that Egan knows how to have fun and can probably take a joke.
“Maybe keep your day job, Sir.” Rosie teases.
That makes Egan throw back his head and really laugh, and Rosie is smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.
“Well, thanks for listening. I’ve run everyone else out of here with my singing.”
Rosie looks around, and realizes Egan is speaking the truth. The place is almost empty. He glances at the clock on the wall, and sees that it’s almost last call.
“Oh well. Time to head to quarters anyway.”
A flicker of something like disappointment crosses over Egan’s face, and Rosie immediately feels bad. Maybe he’d planned on staying until closing time, but Rosie doesn’t ever stay that late.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Egan claps a hand on Rosie’s shoulder. He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “See you around.”
---
Later, Rosie thinks about Egan’s bright booming laugh and his gorgeous smile. He replays their conversation in his head, and it makes him wonder if Egan was looking for something more than just conversation that night.
Rosie has been flirted with before. He’s even been the one doing the pursuing. But his brief liaisons always happened in the context of smokey Brooklyn jazz bars, places that were specifically for men like him.
At Thorpe Abbotts, Rosie just isn’t looking for that kind of company. It’s way too risky to look for that kind of intimacy with other military men. But the drink offer, and the song, and the teasing looks a hell of a lot like flirting in retrospect. There’s nothing he can do about it now that the moment has passed, but that doesn’t stop him from turning it over and over in his head all day.
---
Up in the air, Rosie is locked on. His focus is unshakeable as adrenaline courses through his body for hours at a time. But on the ground, it’s another story. He feels exhausted instead of elated a lot of the time. His body aches everywhere, and he desperately wants the loud booms of flak to stop echoing in his head.
He doesn’t want anyone of his crew to pick up on the way he feels. He can’t let them see him as anything less than competent and confident. It puts them at ease to see him acting normal.
So he knows he needs to release some fucking tension before he explodes. He goes to the officer’s club and considers doing what plenty of other pilots do to come down from the adrenaline rush and get their focus back. They either get drunk off their ass, or they get laid.
Rosie has never been a huge fan of getting drunk, though. Getting really drunk feels a lot like losing control. He orders a few drinks anyway and resolves to be more impulsive. He notices Egan around the bar, because he’s hard to miss. He is talking with everyone and generally being loud and boisterous. Rosie keeps watching, letting his gaze linger, curious to see if Egan is going to buy anyone else a drink. If he does, Rosie doesn’t see him do it.
Soon enough Egan catches him watching, and appraises him from across the room. He picks up his glass and beelines for Rosie, his gaze steady. It sets Rosie’s heart racing.
“You doing okay, Rosenthal?” Egan asks, keeping his voice low.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Rosie can’t help the way his voice goes a little high-pitched. He’s nervous.
Egan drawls, “Seems like you’ve been ordering more than usual, is all.”
“Oh, so you’ve been watching me?” Rosie is buzzed up on booze and he likes Egan’s smile, so he says the obvious retort without even thinking.
He’s rewarded when one of Egan’s eyebrows shoots up and he smirks.
“Now, now. Don’t go getting a big head about this. It’s my job to know what goes on on this base.”
Egan wags his index finger as he talks. Now that Rosie is looking for it, he definitely notices the teasing in Egan’s tone.
“Right, sure,” Rosie flirts back. “Why don’t you call me Rosie like everyone else?”
“I don’t know,” Egan seems to consider his answer. “Maybe you just don’t look like a Rosie to me.”
“I mean, you’ve given everyone in this goddamn place a nickname except me,” Rosie says, now that the thought has occurred to him.
Egan bumps his elbow against Rosie’s side and bites his lip. “You can’t just let things go, can you? I’ll call you Rosie, okay. Happy?”
Egan puts his arms out wide, sloshing his drink a little as he does, and grins. His gaze is hot and heavy as it flicks down to Rosie’s mouth. Rosie has always liked sex over booze. Maybe if he can figure out what’s on offer, he could stop drinking and redirect his efforts for the night. He bumps Egan with his elbow, mirroring his move from earlier, and reaches out to pluck Egan’s nearly empty glass right out of his hand.
“You want another? I think I owe you from before,” Rosie says, keeping his voice steady as he glances at Egan in what he hopes is a suggestive way.
Egan must catch on, because he says, “You want to get out of here instead?”
Egan slams some bills down on the bartop, his dazzling smile firmly in place as he takes his leave without even looking back.
Rosie admires that kind of straightforward confidence. Usually he has to work up to something like this. He’s never left the bar so abruptly before. But he reminds himself that he wanted to be more impulsive and experience something that would shake him right out of his funk. So he gets up and chases after Egan’s smile.
Outside, the night air is crisp and cool. It doesn’t take long to find Egan, tucked away into an alley between the O-club and the latrines building. Rosie keeps walking, knowing Egan will see him. He feels like they need to be farther away for whatever they’re about to do.
Once Egan catches up, he asks, “So what made you change your mind?”
“I didn’t realize you were interested.” Rosie admits. “But I could use a… distraction.”
Egan nods his head as if he knows exactly what Rosie is referring to.
“Sex does quiet the buzzing in my head sometimes. At least for a little while.”
“Good,” Rosie says, thankful that they seem to understand each other.
Once they round another building, Rosie figures they’re far enough away. He stops, and lets Egan crowd him until his back is against the wall.
“I think I'd like calling you Robert better, actually,” Egan says, a hair’s breadth away from his mouth.
“You talk a lot,” Rosie says, still teasing. He doesn’t know who closes the distance first, but once they’re kissing, Rosie eagerly opens up his mouth to let Egan’s tongue inside.
It’s been so long that Rosie moans, his dick already heavy between his thighs. Rosie’s hands are at Egan’s waist, holding his body flush against his. Egan wraps an arm around Rosie’s shoulders, his other on Rosie’s cheek, and Rosie wants more.
Egan pulls back abruptly and drops to his knees, deftly unbuttoning Rosie’s dress slacks to pull his dick out. Rosie gasps in surprise and his mouth hangs open as he stares. He’d been hoping for something just like this, but he never thought the Major was going to get on his knees for him. He thought for sure it’d end up being the other way around. Egan looks up at him with a wolfish grin.
“You're beautiful,” he says on an exhale. And then he stuffs his mouth full of Rosie’s cock.
Rosie swears under his breath when Egan starts swirling around Rosie’s head with his tongue, his mouth warm and wet around him. Egan swallows him even further, gagging on his cock but not pulling back. Tears prick his eyes and drool starts to drip from the corner of his mouth. Rosie is thankful there is enough moonlight for him to see just how filthy Egan looks.
“Goddamn,” he says. He puts his hand on Egan’s head, and Egan lets out a guttural sound that reminds Rosie of a growl.
“You like that, huh?” Rosie tugs, and Egan fucking whimpers. His eyes flutter closed, and Rosie holds him steady. Rosie could come just like this. His balls are already tightening up, his whole body chasing that high.
“You’re so fuckin’ good at this,” Rosie says, and he means it. No wonder Egan is such a cocky bastard. He deserves to be. Rosie’s got to find a way to slow things down.
He uses his hand to pull his cock out, and then tugs at Egan’s bottom lip with his thumb.
“I just wanted to be able to look at you,” Rosie murmurs. He can’t keep the edge out of his voice. He feels reckless, depraved. He’s out in the open with his dick wet because of his superior officer’s mouth, and he doesn’t even care. He just wants Egan to make him come. War truly has changed him.
Rosie slowly pushes two fingers inside Egan’s mouth and presses down on his tongue. Egan mumbles something, but his mouth is so full that Rosie can’t really hear him. He pushes his fingers farther inside Egan’s mouth until he gags. His eyes are watering as he looks up at Rosie. Rosie’s fingers are coated in spit, and he wipes it on Egan’s cheek before he puts his dick back in.
Rosie hits the back of Egan’s throat and fucks him until Egan gags again. The sound makes Rosie groan. His cock feels so good but it's getting hard to stay upright. His legs start to tremble as he tightens up all over.
Egan taps him on his knee, and Rosie pulls his dick out.
“Use the wall,” Egan advises, his voice ragged.
Rosie takes the suggestion and slides down a little, putting more of his weight against the wall, and Egan keeps sucking his dick.
Egan’s eyes are open, and when he looks up and makes eye contact, Rosie sees the naked hunger there. Egan is desperate for something, and Rosie is already willing to give it to him.
“Tell me what you want,” Rosie says. He doesn’t add that he’ll already do it. He’s putty in Egan’s hands, ready to be shaped in whatever way he would like.
“Let me fuck you,” he says. He waits there, on his knees, spit dripping from his mouth and his hair a mess, and Rosie thinks maybe Egan needs this even more than he does.
“Yeah, okay,” Rosie says. Egan stands up and spins Rosie around until his cheek is pressed against the wall. His pants are down around his ankles so fast he barely registers the touch. He pushes his hips out, eager for it.
He hears Egan unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants and there’s a moment where he wonders if he can even take cock after so long. But his whole body is relaxed from the alcohol, and he wants to be good for Egan. His dick feels wet and sticky between the wall and his stomach, and he squeezes the base of his cock in anticipation.
He feels Egan’s cock bump against his ass, and then Egan spreads his cheeks and spits. Rosie shivers, from the cold or the adrenaline he can’t tell. The slight pain of the initial stretch grounds him, reminds him this is real.
“Damn, you’re tight,” Egan murmurs. His hands are on Rosie’s hips, his grip tight enough to bruise. Rosie pushes back, ready for more.
“Yeah, alright,” Egan huffs. He slides all the way in and stills, putting his mouth at the shell of Rosie’s ear to whisper. “God, that feels good."
“Yeah? Well give it to me the way you want to.” Rosie cajoles, wanting to provoke a reaction. He can tell Egan's holding back. “I know you’ve been waiting so patiently to fuck me.”
Egan moans instead of answering, and then he’s slamming deep into Rosie. Rosie pushes off the wall with one hand to keep his head from hitting it, and Egan sets a brutal pace. He fucks him hard and fast, and Rosie moans around him. His body is awash in pleasure, his mind blank.
The buzzing in his head does stop. He feels himself floating away, flak and his fort forgotten as his body succumbs to his base instincts. He jerks himself off as Egan fucks him frantically. His pace goes off kilter but Rosie doesn’t care. He’s already coming, squeezing around Egan and clamping his mouth shut so he doesn’t scream.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Egan curses. Then he grounds himself deep in Rosie’s ass, and slumps against Rosie’s back. Rosie can feel Egan’s ragged breaths against his neck, and warmth floods his body before Egan gingerly pulls out.
Rosie feels so satiated that his exhaustion is finally catching up with him. He haphazardly pulls up his pants and lowers himself to the ground, careful to avoid his come shot. He just wants to sit for a few moments and catch his breath.
“So what about this time?” Rosie asks quietly. “Did it help?”
Egan is panting as he pulls up his pants and sits down in the dirt next to Rosie. Rosie sighs, happy for the company.
“Yeah, actually,” Egan says as he reaches over and squeezes Rosie’s hand. “Thanks, Rosie.”
The use of his nickname makes him smile. Rosie keeps on holding his hand, enjoying the intimacy of it.
“The pleasure is mine,” Rosie says, sort of as a joke. Egan doesn’t laugh, though.
They sit there for a while longer, side by side. Egan stays unbelievably quiet, and Rosie hopes that means he’s satiated too.
Pairing: John "Bucky" Egan/Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal
Rated: Explicit
Word Count: 3,002
Summary: Egan flirts with Rosie. It takes Rosie a little while to catch on.
A/N: Written for
ficinabox. This rarepair compels me!! Fic on AO3
Rosie is leaning against the bar contemplating whether or not he’s going to have a third drink when Major Egan comes up on his right side and puts his elbows on the table.
“Hey, you’re underwear guy, right?” Egan says with the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Rosie nods. “Guilty as charged.”
He was told that the Majors of the hundreth expect all of them to kiss their asses, so he keeps his voice appropriately upbeat, even though he really wants to grind his teeth and high-tail it out of this embarrassing conversation.
Egan huffs a laugh while he waives down a waiter.
“What are you drinking?” Egan asks. “Next one's on me.”
Rosie briefly considers saying that he’s done for the night, but he shouldn’t walk away from a Major’s invitation. He asks for a whiskey on the rocks, and Egan orders two.
“You know, I heard you’re a great pilot already. You probably don’t need our advice,” Egan says once the drinks come.
Egan is apparently picking up where their awkward conversation left off a few days before. Rosie narrows his eyes and considers Egan’s words, unsure whether he’s being sarcastic or trying to be nice.
“Thanks. Still, there’s nothing that can compare to experience.”
“Yeah, I don’t have the words to explain, is the thing.” Egan says into his drink. “You just have to do it.”
Rosie sighs. He knows what he means now, having gone on his first mission already. But before he can think of something appropriately sympathetic to say, Egan’s eyes widen like he’s just had a brilliant idea.
“You like music, Rosenthal?” Egan asks.
So Egan does know his name. He must have been fucking with him earlier.
“Yeah,” Rosie nods, already sure this is one of the weirdest conversations he’s ever had. “Why?”
“Because I love music,” Egan says as he slaps his palm on the table, apparently for emphasis. “You’ve gotta hear me sing!”
That makes Rosie laugh. He’s heard that Major Egan will take the mic with minimal cajoling, but he hasn’t had the pleasure of experiencing a performance yet.
“Oh really? Well, the band tonight isn’t half bad,” Rosie says, egging him on.
“C’mon, I’ll sing something for ya.”
Egan puts his hand on Rosie’s elbow and tugs him away from the bar. Rosie lets himself get dragged past several Majors and over to the dance floor. Egan pushes him gently into one of the chairs lining the wall. Rosie is careful not to spill his drink as he sits.
The band starts up a jazz tune that he instantly recognizes as the Cole Porter song Begin the Beguine. It’s no easy song to sing. Egan saunters towards the mic stand, his whole body exuding exaggerated confidence. Rosie hears a few people in the crowd groan.
All eyes are on Egan as the band moves to the second verse, and Egan opens his mouth and belts out the lyrics. He’s bad. He can’t even match pitch. But his eyes are bright, his smile is inviting, and as he sways to the music with the mic stand in his hand it’s obvious that he’s having a great time.
Rosie leans forward with a huge smile on his face. Egan’s enthusiasm is contagious and his smile is magnetic. His body rocks to the rhythm, his hips making themselves known in a way that has Rosie thinking maybe Egan could really dance if he had a partner. Rosie can’t look away, even though his ears are bemoaning the butchering of the song.
Egan gets to the last verse, and he belts it while looking right at Rosie. He winks when he sings the “Darling, I love you” part, which only makes Rosie burst out laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all. Egan might not be talented, but he lets the music move him, and Rosie is entertained despite himself. Rosie stands up and starts clapping as the song comes to its triumphant end, and Egan takes a bow.
He gives Egan a high five as he approaches him.
“So, what did you think?” Egan says, eyes glittering.
Rosie is feeling bold. It would appear that Egan knows how to have fun and can probably take a joke.
“Maybe keep your day job, Sir.” Rosie teases.
That makes Egan throw back his head and really laugh, and Rosie is smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.
“Well, thanks for listening. I’ve run everyone else out of here with my singing.”
Rosie looks around, and realizes Egan is speaking the truth. The place is almost empty. He glances at the clock on the wall, and sees that it’s almost last call.
“Oh well. Time to head to quarters anyway.”
A flicker of something like disappointment crosses over Egan’s face, and Rosie immediately feels bad. Maybe he’d planned on staying until closing time, but Rosie doesn’t ever stay that late.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Egan claps a hand on Rosie’s shoulder. He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “See you around.”
---
Later, Rosie thinks about Egan’s bright booming laugh and his gorgeous smile. He replays their conversation in his head, and it makes him wonder if Egan was looking for something more than just conversation that night.
Rosie has been flirted with before. He’s even been the one doing the pursuing. But his brief liaisons always happened in the context of smokey Brooklyn jazz bars, places that were specifically for men like him.
At Thorpe Abbotts, Rosie just isn’t looking for that kind of company. It’s way too risky to look for that kind of intimacy with other military men. But the drink offer, and the song, and the teasing looks a hell of a lot like flirting in retrospect. There’s nothing he can do about it now that the moment has passed, but that doesn’t stop him from turning it over and over in his head all day.
---
Up in the air, Rosie is locked on. His focus is unshakeable as adrenaline courses through his body for hours at a time. But on the ground, it’s another story. He feels exhausted instead of elated a lot of the time. His body aches everywhere, and he desperately wants the loud booms of flak to stop echoing in his head.
He doesn’t want anyone of his crew to pick up on the way he feels. He can’t let them see him as anything less than competent and confident. It puts them at ease to see him acting normal.
So he knows he needs to release some fucking tension before he explodes. He goes to the officer’s club and considers doing what plenty of other pilots do to come down from the adrenaline rush and get their focus back. They either get drunk off their ass, or they get laid.
Rosie has never been a huge fan of getting drunk, though. Getting really drunk feels a lot like losing control. He orders a few drinks anyway and resolves to be more impulsive. He notices Egan around the bar, because he’s hard to miss. He is talking with everyone and generally being loud and boisterous. Rosie keeps watching, letting his gaze linger, curious to see if Egan is going to buy anyone else a drink. If he does, Rosie doesn’t see him do it.
Soon enough Egan catches him watching, and appraises him from across the room. He picks up his glass and beelines for Rosie, his gaze steady. It sets Rosie’s heart racing.
“You doing okay, Rosenthal?” Egan asks, keeping his voice low.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Rosie can’t help the way his voice goes a little high-pitched. He’s nervous.
Egan drawls, “Seems like you’ve been ordering more than usual, is all.”
“Oh, so you’ve been watching me?” Rosie is buzzed up on booze and he likes Egan’s smile, so he says the obvious retort without even thinking.
He’s rewarded when one of Egan’s eyebrows shoots up and he smirks.
“Now, now. Don’t go getting a big head about this. It’s my job to know what goes on on this base.”
Egan wags his index finger as he talks. Now that Rosie is looking for it, he definitely notices the teasing in Egan’s tone.
“Right, sure,” Rosie flirts back. “Why don’t you call me Rosie like everyone else?”
“I don’t know,” Egan seems to consider his answer. “Maybe you just don’t look like a Rosie to me.”
“I mean, you’ve given everyone in this goddamn place a nickname except me,” Rosie says, now that the thought has occurred to him.
Egan bumps his elbow against Rosie’s side and bites his lip. “You can’t just let things go, can you? I’ll call you Rosie, okay. Happy?”
Egan puts his arms out wide, sloshing his drink a little as he does, and grins. His gaze is hot and heavy as it flicks down to Rosie’s mouth. Rosie has always liked sex over booze. Maybe if he can figure out what’s on offer, he could stop drinking and redirect his efforts for the night. He bumps Egan with his elbow, mirroring his move from earlier, and reaches out to pluck Egan’s nearly empty glass right out of his hand.
“You want another? I think I owe you from before,” Rosie says, keeping his voice steady as he glances at Egan in what he hopes is a suggestive way.
Egan must catch on, because he says, “You want to get out of here instead?”
Egan slams some bills down on the bartop, his dazzling smile firmly in place as he takes his leave without even looking back.
Rosie admires that kind of straightforward confidence. Usually he has to work up to something like this. He’s never left the bar so abruptly before. But he reminds himself that he wanted to be more impulsive and experience something that would shake him right out of his funk. So he gets up and chases after Egan’s smile.
Outside, the night air is crisp and cool. It doesn’t take long to find Egan, tucked away into an alley between the O-club and the latrines building. Rosie keeps walking, knowing Egan will see him. He feels like they need to be farther away for whatever they’re about to do.
Once Egan catches up, he asks, “So what made you change your mind?”
“I didn’t realize you were interested.” Rosie admits. “But I could use a… distraction.”
Egan nods his head as if he knows exactly what Rosie is referring to.
“Sex does quiet the buzzing in my head sometimes. At least for a little while.”
“Good,” Rosie says, thankful that they seem to understand each other.
Once they round another building, Rosie figures they’re far enough away. He stops, and lets Egan crowd him until his back is against the wall.
“I think I'd like calling you Robert better, actually,” Egan says, a hair’s breadth away from his mouth.
“You talk a lot,” Rosie says, still teasing. He doesn’t know who closes the distance first, but once they’re kissing, Rosie eagerly opens up his mouth to let Egan’s tongue inside.
It’s been so long that Rosie moans, his dick already heavy between his thighs. Rosie’s hands are at Egan’s waist, holding his body flush against his. Egan wraps an arm around Rosie’s shoulders, his other on Rosie’s cheek, and Rosie wants more.
Egan pulls back abruptly and drops to his knees, deftly unbuttoning Rosie’s dress slacks to pull his dick out. Rosie gasps in surprise and his mouth hangs open as he stares. He’d been hoping for something just like this, but he never thought the Major was going to get on his knees for him. He thought for sure it’d end up being the other way around. Egan looks up at him with a wolfish grin.
“You're beautiful,” he says on an exhale. And then he stuffs his mouth full of Rosie’s cock.
Rosie swears under his breath when Egan starts swirling around Rosie’s head with his tongue, his mouth warm and wet around him. Egan swallows him even further, gagging on his cock but not pulling back. Tears prick his eyes and drool starts to drip from the corner of his mouth. Rosie is thankful there is enough moonlight for him to see just how filthy Egan looks.
“Goddamn,” he says. He puts his hand on Egan’s head, and Egan lets out a guttural sound that reminds Rosie of a growl.
“You like that, huh?” Rosie tugs, and Egan fucking whimpers. His eyes flutter closed, and Rosie holds him steady. Rosie could come just like this. His balls are already tightening up, his whole body chasing that high.
“You’re so fuckin’ good at this,” Rosie says, and he means it. No wonder Egan is such a cocky bastard. He deserves to be. Rosie’s got to find a way to slow things down.
He uses his hand to pull his cock out, and then tugs at Egan’s bottom lip with his thumb.
“I just wanted to be able to look at you,” Rosie murmurs. He can’t keep the edge out of his voice. He feels reckless, depraved. He’s out in the open with his dick wet because of his superior officer’s mouth, and he doesn’t even care. He just wants Egan to make him come. War truly has changed him.
Rosie slowly pushes two fingers inside Egan’s mouth and presses down on his tongue. Egan mumbles something, but his mouth is so full that Rosie can’t really hear him. He pushes his fingers farther inside Egan’s mouth until he gags. His eyes are watering as he looks up at Rosie. Rosie’s fingers are coated in spit, and he wipes it on Egan’s cheek before he puts his dick back in.
Rosie hits the back of Egan’s throat and fucks him until Egan gags again. The sound makes Rosie groan. His cock feels so good but it's getting hard to stay upright. His legs start to tremble as he tightens up all over.
Egan taps him on his knee, and Rosie pulls his dick out.
“Use the wall,” Egan advises, his voice ragged.
Rosie takes the suggestion and slides down a little, putting more of his weight against the wall, and Egan keeps sucking his dick.
Egan’s eyes are open, and when he looks up and makes eye contact, Rosie sees the naked hunger there. Egan is desperate for something, and Rosie is already willing to give it to him.
“Tell me what you want,” Rosie says. He doesn’t add that he’ll already do it. He’s putty in Egan’s hands, ready to be shaped in whatever way he would like.
“Let me fuck you,” he says. He waits there, on his knees, spit dripping from his mouth and his hair a mess, and Rosie thinks maybe Egan needs this even more than he does.
“Yeah, okay,” Rosie says. Egan stands up and spins Rosie around until his cheek is pressed against the wall. His pants are down around his ankles so fast he barely registers the touch. He pushes his hips out, eager for it.
He hears Egan unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants and there’s a moment where he wonders if he can even take cock after so long. But his whole body is relaxed from the alcohol, and he wants to be good for Egan. His dick feels wet and sticky between the wall and his stomach, and he squeezes the base of his cock in anticipation.
He feels Egan’s cock bump against his ass, and then Egan spreads his cheeks and spits. Rosie shivers, from the cold or the adrenaline he can’t tell. The slight pain of the initial stretch grounds him, reminds him this is real.
“Damn, you’re tight,” Egan murmurs. His hands are on Rosie’s hips, his grip tight enough to bruise. Rosie pushes back, ready for more.
“Yeah, alright,” Egan huffs. He slides all the way in and stills, putting his mouth at the shell of Rosie’s ear to whisper. “God, that feels good."
“Yeah? Well give it to me the way you want to.” Rosie cajoles, wanting to provoke a reaction. He can tell Egan's holding back. “I know you’ve been waiting so patiently to fuck me.”
Egan moans instead of answering, and then he’s slamming deep into Rosie. Rosie pushes off the wall with one hand to keep his head from hitting it, and Egan sets a brutal pace. He fucks him hard and fast, and Rosie moans around him. His body is awash in pleasure, his mind blank.
The buzzing in his head does stop. He feels himself floating away, flak and his fort forgotten as his body succumbs to his base instincts. He jerks himself off as Egan fucks him frantically. His pace goes off kilter but Rosie doesn’t care. He’s already coming, squeezing around Egan and clamping his mouth shut so he doesn’t scream.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Egan curses. Then he grounds himself deep in Rosie’s ass, and slumps against Rosie’s back. Rosie can feel Egan’s ragged breaths against his neck, and warmth floods his body before Egan gingerly pulls out.
Rosie feels so satiated that his exhaustion is finally catching up with him. He haphazardly pulls up his pants and lowers himself to the ground, careful to avoid his come shot. He just wants to sit for a few moments and catch his breath.
“So what about this time?” Rosie asks quietly. “Did it help?”
Egan is panting as he pulls up his pants and sits down in the dirt next to Rosie. Rosie sighs, happy for the company.
“Yeah, actually,” Egan says as he reaches over and squeezes Rosie’s hand. “Thanks, Rosie.”
The use of his nickname makes him smile. Rosie keeps on holding his hand, enjoying the intimacy of it.
“The pleasure is mine,” Rosie says, sort of as a joke. Egan doesn’t laugh, though.
They sit there for a while longer, side by side. Egan stays unbelievably quiet, and Rosie hopes that means he’s satiated too.