Seven Days To The Wolves

by Epeeblade

Jeff woke as the gentle artificial lighting brightened his quarters to mimic dawn, one arm tucked under his pillow, the other stretching out across the empty expanse of bed. He hadn't gone to bed alone, and for a moment, he hesitated, listening for perhaps the sound of the shower. The normal, low hum of the ship's air-recycler permeated the room, but nothing else sounded through his quarters - and though they were the larger rooms reserved for senior staff, the bedroom wasn't that large. No, clearly Lt. Ackles had better things to do than wait around to answer any questions Jeff might have had after the first time they had been intimate.

He flicked the set of restraints still attached to the headboard, the metal making an odd clinking sound against the industrial plastic. Jeff had used cuffs to restrain war criminals, AWOL soldiers, and even a civilian or two, but they had never made it into his bedroom. It never occurred to him to actually try such a thing - handcuffs and headboards were a kinky joke, no one actually did that, right?

Well, apparently, people did do it plenty. They did it enough to justify an entire branch of the military centered around sex. Jeff had never thought his military career would go quite in that direction, but he couldn't have predicted what had happened on the disastrous first contact mission to 328. Nothing had prepared him for encountering an entire society based on kinky sex. That, of course, explained how he had failed so spectacularly, and managed to get two of his men taken prisoner and held until he had proved himself a worthy master, whatever that meant.

Ackles, however, supposedly knew and could coach Jeff in the proper way to behave. He slid out of bed, nearly tripping over the flogger left on the floor and he hopped on his bare feet around the bed, catching his hand on his desk for balance. One of the digital frames fell over and the picture winked out. Lucky Ackles had left -- otherwise he'd have been witness to Jeff's sudden post coital clumsiness. Jeff wondered if that was protocol for the Scuts - never stay the full night with whomever you're fucking at the time. He didn't know, and honestly, Jeff had never expected to be ordered into having sex with anyone.

Jeff stood the frame back up, tapping it when it seemed frozen on a single image. He wondered if it would be enough, when it all came down to it. Sure, Ackles was sex on legs, and bedding him wasn't a hardship, but how the hell could they meet the Queen's very exacting standards when Jeff himself wasn't even sure what she meant?

The mission had started out nearly perfect, the shuttle had landed just outside the city,- a golden expanse of spiraling towers and soaring bridges, more suited to a child's fairy tale than a former UP colony. He put the science team to work doing the environmental analysis, and took his four best people to the wall surrounding the city with a set of gates as tall as the ones on the shuttle-bay and as long as a football field.

They hadn't expected the gate to open at their arrival, nor to be greeted by a group of men in wild outfits - forest green capes and golden armor, with sandals that tied up to their knees. The spears they held looked deadly, but Jeff felt confident he could draw his blaster and fire before one of them got close. He stepped forward to introduce himself, holding the translator-box in one hand to repeat the words in several different languages, if they didn't understand.

Luckily, it seemed this colony had been founded by speakers of English, although that didn't explain the ancient outfits. One of the men had stepped forward, "You come from beyond the stars?"

"Yes," Jeff said, glad that he didn't have to worry about the language barrier. "I come on behalf of my government. We would like to speak with whoever has authority in your city."

"The Queen is the mistress of us all," another of the soldiers said.

"Then we would like to speak with her," Dr. Karl Johnson, Jeff's anthropologist for this mission, stepped next to Jeff and took over. Jeff let him, it was Johnson's job to figure out whatever culture had formed up in the 300 years contact had been cut off from Earth and the UP.

The man in front motioned to one of his men, who nodded and stepped back behind the wall. "Leon will send for the tram. You must request audience with the Queen, but I can take you to a waiting room."

"Thank you," Johnson said simply. Jeff flicked at the comm port at his ear and updated Sergeant Massee on their progress. They were going in.

The moment they stepped through the doorway, Jeff felt almost as if he walked through water, his motions slow and distorted. He stepped foot on the other side as if bursting free from a swimming pool, nearly stumbling onto the ground with the shock of it. Jeff turned to make sure his people were all right and watched, astonished, as their blasters were pulled off their bodies by an unseen force and into the waiting hands of the guards.

The leader nodded and touched his spear, which shimmered for a moment, then collapsed upon itself, shrinking from six feet to a mere few inches. He clasped it on his belt and nodded at Jeff. "Your weapons will be returned when you are proven trustworthy."

"Sir," Lt. Caroline Chikezie said, holding out her scanner. Jeff got her point, they had been able to distinguish their weapons from their diagnostic equipment somehow. He'd never seen technology that could do that, and then remove said weapons with an unseen force.

"I assume you'll put yours away too, then?" Jeff drawled, tilting his head towards the other guards who still held their spears.

The guy in charge smiled, and then nodded. Jeff got to watch again as the men collapsed their weapons and hooked the miniature versions on their belts. So much for a primitive culture, he thought. How the hell had this colony come so far in such a short time?

"We will escort you to the tram."

The guard fell into formation around them, causing Jeff's hackles to rise, but there was nothing he could do about it but stay on guard. Jeff and his team were the strangers here; he couldn't blame these people for playing it like this. As he watched Johnson attempt to make conversation with the soldier nearest him, Jeff thought this would work just fine, they could pump the grunts for information before seeing this Queen.

And then they entered the city good and proper and Jeff had to catch his breath. The road, a road of mosaic tile that glittered in the sunlight, broadened as they walked, the sheer golden walls giving way to mismatched buildings, painted bright colors, and gardens of rich green. Spouts of water rose from a fountain in the center of the square, the water dancing in arcs and patterns that defied gravity. Jeff could see the towers in the distance still so far away.

He noticed it when Johnson stiffened beside him and Jeff tensed, fingers twitching for the blaster no longer at his side. His eyes shifted to where the anthropologist looked, surprised at the sight; a crowd of people had gathered around a stage, set off from the side of the fountain watching what at first Jeff took for a play, until his vision adjusted. A very naked man stood bound, arms attached to ropes connected to a beam overhead, legs spread wide and also bound to either side of the stage. A woman stood behind him, her arm drawn back as she beat him with a small leather object too small to be a whip. The man cried out, but instead of pleading for clemency as Jeff expected, he begged for one more stroke.

The guards led them towards the other side of the fountain, away from the disturbing tableau, and Jeff forced himself to focus on the mission. The tram the leader had spoken of waited for them, looking like a red and gold bus, with long windows along the side. More of the locals stood around, staring at Jeff and his team with open curiosity on their faces. Several people knelt instead of stood, and Jeff noticed that all of the people on their knees wore collars around their necks.

A young woman separated from the crowd, and ran towards them. She wore a pure white tunic belted around her waist, and a yellow collar nearly concealed by her waves of blond hair. Jeff didn't know what to expect when she stopped in front of the commander of the guards and performed a cute little bow. And then she called him "master."

Jeff tilted his head to catch what the leader said to her, his words were nearly inaudible.

"You should be resting," he said.

She frowned at him. "You worry too much. I am quite well."

"Allow me my worry, love. You shouldn't be here."

"I came for my kiss," she said. "You left without waking me."

"How could I have forgotten that?" The guard curved his hand around her cheek and she leaned into his touch. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, then whispered something Jeff couldn't hear and she laughed, before bowing again. When she turned to go, the guard slapped her ass, to the laughter of the rest of the guard.

Jeff exchanged a look with Lt. Caroline Chikezie, who merely rolled her eyes. Johnson's face flushed a dark red and Jeff put a hand on his arm in warning. They still had to get on that tram.

Major Tappen turned to the guard he had been befriending during the walk. "Who drives the tram?"

The guard laughed. "Harmony drives everything."

"You specialize in being cryptic, don't you?" Tappen said.

A small smile was the only reply.

Jeff stepped inside the tram and took one of the seats lining the walls, blinking against the bright crimson decor. Tappen sat next to his new friend, the two continuing their conversation. Johnson sat next to Jeff, and he didn't look happy at all. Chikezie and Brown sat across from them, Chikezie frowning down at her scanner. Jeff turned to look out the window, waiting for them to be on their way, only to find that not only had the tram started moving already, but they had taken to the air.

He gasped, shocked as they made their way over those fantastic bridges and around the bright towers, finally seeing the cornflower blue of the ocean that bordered the other side of the city.

"Brilliant!" Chikezie murmured, entranced by view out the window and he couldn't help but agree.

All too soon, their ride was over, the tram hovered near the balcony of one of the towers and the doors peeled open.

"You may wait here until the Queen summons you," the leader of the guard said, pulling open a set of glass doors leading into a room.

"Thank you," Jeff told him, taking the lead and ensuring the room was safe for the rest of his team.

"This place is absolutely nuts," Tappen said, once their escort had left them in this waiting room.

Jeff took his time wandering around the room, checking for listening devices, cameras or any more of that oddly advanced technology they had encountered from the moment they had stepped in the city. The room seemed designed for comfort with plush carpet, plenty of low seating covered with pillows, fresh fruit sat on the low table in the center, and a pitcher next to it circled by tiny golden cups. Jeff wondered if it contained water or wine. Whoever had decorated the room adorned it with the splendor of colors they had seen throughout the city bright golds, rich reds, forest greens, from the pattern in the carpet, to the fabric of the couches.

On the far side of the room Jeff noticed some wooden structures he could not name, one in the shape of a large X, the other seemed very close to a yoke and the third was a chair with a winged back. All were done in the same dark red wood in evidence throughout the room.

"It's like," Tappen snapped his fingers. "That old 2D movie, the Wizard and something? You ever seen it?"

"Saw the 3d remake, from '68," Brown answered, he stationed himself near the windows, pulling the gauzy fabric of the curtains away to look out into the balcony area.

"I don't think what we're witnessing is magic," Johnson said. He had grown increasingly agitated as their journey had continued, and Jeff knew it had something to do with the scene they had witnessed near the fountain. It had disturbed Jeff as well, but he'd seen things far more upsetting on the border during the war.

Jeff tested his comm, which worked even in the very heart of this city and took the opportunity to check in with the rest of his crew. Massee reported all was well; none of the guards had even ventured out to look at the landed shuttle. "Next check in at 1500," Jeff said. If they hadn't heard from him, Jeff knew Massee could be relied on to get the rest of the team back to the Mercury safely.

Lt. Chikezie picked up the pitcher and sniffed at it. "It smells like water," she said. "But I'll run the scanner over it."

"It could be drugged with something we haven't discovered yet," Johnson said.

"Are you always this much of a pessimist?" Jeff asked, wondering at the sudden behavior change in his normally even-tempered anthropologist. He wished he had time to take the man aside and have a word, but in this room his words couldn't be hidden from the others, and he respected Johnson's privacy too much for that.

Johnson flicked his finger against the giant wood X and frowned. "Only when I have reason to be." He turned and glared at the other object. "That's a pillory," his voice was hushed and shocked.

"A what?" Chikezie looked up from her scanner.

"Torture device." Johnson's face paled.

As if his words brought it, a knock came at the door, just before it opened. Jeff moved to the front of his crew, as usual, to make sure he was the first person seen. Instead of the guards Jeff was expecting, a man walked in, nude to the waist, wearing nothing more than a red collar and a black leather kilt that stopped mid-thigh. He wasn't especially young, actually a bit older than Jeff expected for a slave in that type of outfit, but there was beauty in those large, blue eyes, that carefully chiseled face.

The young man bowed. "I am Misha, Sub to my Mistress, the Duchess Claudia, friend to my Lady Queen Michelle Tal. My mistress has sent me to serve as you wait for the Queen."

"Serve?" Johnson spat out. "I don't suppose you mean serve us dinner."

Misha looked over at Johnson, his face perplexed. "If you wish, I will do that." He touched the side of the kilt, and it came apart in his hands, slipping to the ground, leaving Misha completely nude. He dropped to his knees, back arched, hands on his thighs, which were splayed, as if to display the half-hard dick between them. "Command me."

Jeff thought if he had tried to come up with a more embarrassing scenario on his own, he couldn't have. He moved closer and knelt in front of the younger man, so they could meet eye to eye. "Look, kid, you don't have to do that. We're just fine here," Jeff said, voice low.

Startled blue eyes met his, the brows scrunching in adorable confusion. Jeff wondered if Misha had ever been turned down before. He held out a hand and helped the slave stand, although his clothing, what there was of it anyway, remained on the ground.

Of course, then Johnson had to open his mouth, "Your mistress sent us here to service us? Did she know there were five of us?"

Misha let go of Jeff's hand and took a step back. "Of course. I am a red collared Sub," he sounded more than a little offended.

"Sorry kid, but we don't know what that means," Tappen cut in, scratching at the back of his head.

"It doesn't matter what it means," Johnson interrupted. "Slavery is illegal in the UP for a reason."

"I thought anthropologists didn't judge other cultures," Jeff said smoothly. "Wasn't that the gist of the spiel you gave us last night?"

Johnson held up a hand in a frustrated gesture. "It doesn't mean I'm going to take advantage of the offer. He's a human being." He turned towards Misha. "You don't have to do this, you know. You can come back with us."

Misha's back snapped straight and he stepped away from Jeff, backing up towards the door. "I would never leave my mistress."

"I know you think it's impossible..."

"Johnson, stop." Jeff ordered. Couldn't he see the fear in the kid's eyes? "This isn't helping."

The moment he turned to reprimand Johnson, Misha turned and slipped out the door. It slammed closed with a loud thunk. Tappen winced at the noise. "Great, you scared him away."

"What? Were you considering taking him up on it?" Johnson whirled on the soldier.

"Hell no, but I seriously think you need to unclench, man."

"Is this what we came to find out?" Johnson ignored him and turned back towards Jeff. "That these descendants of UP explorers are no better than the Confeds?"

Jeff shook his head. "Our mission is to begin diplomatic relations, no matter what we find, Doctor. You'll do well to remember that or I'll request a different anthropologist." All of this could have gone a hell of a lot better. Jeff wished he had that entire moment back. "We need to withhold judgment for now."

"I don't know. Naked man in a collar seemed pretty darn clear to me," Chikezie said, her lightly accented voice cutting into the conversation in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Johnson just glared at her and didn't say anything more until the guards eventually came to escort them to the Queen.

Their escort seemed less of an escort this time and more like guards, actually pushing them forward down the hallways. Something had changed in their reception and Jeff had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what. As they were led down the hallway he was conscious of their group being separated, guards winding themselves between him and his team. The back of Jeff's neck prickled, but he was helpless to stop this without making things even worse.

They passed by one room where they heard the sharp crack of a whip. Jeff flinched at the noise, remembering the naked slave in their room. He hadn't gotten a look at the kid's back, so he had no clue if this was the punishment Misha could expect for not having serviced them properly. Guilt sank to the pit of his stomach; perhaps he should have played along sooner, gotten Johnson to back off about the kid.

Too late for recriminations now, they were brought into a throne room and a kick at his feet had Jeff sprawling on the floor. He pushed himself up with one hand and got his first good look at the queen.

He couldn't say if she was or wasn't what he expected. She wasn't too old or too young, her face looked ageless, strong cheekbones, deep set dark eyes, and a shock of blond hair pulled back and up into an elaborate design. Her dress flowed into a shimmering fall of blue and green, reflecting the light of the room. At her feet knelt a man with salt and pepper gray hair, a sign, Jeff thought, that these people actually did age, and a golden metal collar around his neck. Like Misha had, he wore one of those kilts, this one falling to his knees. He kept his hands clasped behind his back and his head down, but Jeff thought he saw a flash of those eyes, taking in the strangers being led into the throne room.

She leaned forward in her gilded chair, one hand placed absently on the slave's head, stroking his hair like a beloved pet. "Who leads here?"

Jeff cleared his throat. "I am Commander Jeff Morgan. I'm in charge of this mission."

The queen sniffed, looking down at him, easy to do when she was up on a stage and he on the ground. "So you say. They told me you claim to come from another world, a place beyond the stars."

"That's right," Jeff said. He went into the rest of his spiel. "People from my world explored and settled this planet 300 years ago. We believe you are their descendants."

She rose out of her throne, her movements graceful and fluid, the fabric of her dress pooling around her feet like a waterfall. The Queen walked around her slave and towards the blank wall over to the right of the dais. "You must think us quite foolish. Naive even, to merely believe your words without any proof."

"There is a shuttle with the rest of my people just outside your city," Jeff said. "We can even take someone out into space, see our starship."

She chuckled, a low, deep laughter that was not a pleasant sound. "Oh, I know all about your shuttle." A wave of her hand over the wall had it shifting into a screen, the metal moving like rippling scales, suddenly revealing what Jeff assumed to be a live shot of the crew, taking soil samples, doing climate analysis, and waiting for Jeff and the others to return. "Did you think us so primitive to not be watching when strangers land on our doorstep?"

"I never meant to imply..." Jeff began.

"No, of course not. You merely allowed your crew," she tossed her head gesturing to the rest of his people scattered around the room, separated and guarded by more soldiers in golden uniforms, "to so frighten a Sub under my protection as to make him think you'd snatch him away from his rightful mistress."

"Our ways are different," Jeff began.

"Enough of your excuses," she snapped. "You cannot keep your people in line. You are a poor example of a Master. Return when you have learned respect for our ways." The Queen clapped her hands, and Jeff heard the commotion behind him. He half stood and whirled around, but was held back when he saw that Johnson and Tappen were being dragged from the room.

"They will be returned to you when you can prove yourself a proper master," she snapped.

"And what the hell do you mean by that?" Jeff turned on her, anger rising in his chest.

The Queen leveled those intense eyes at him, now back at the side of her slave...or Sub as she called him. Her hand fisted in his hair and she pulled his head back, but he looked at her with adoration, Jeff thought, like a supplicant. No, that wasn't quite right, he looked at her like he loved her. It hadn't been so long that Jeff had forgotten what that looked like.

"Lead," she said, "Be a true Master. Inspire. I await your return when you've learned how to care for your people."

And then there was nothing for it but the guards to lead them out.

Jeff ran a hand through his matted hair, shaking thoughts of the mission out of his mind. He could dwell on it, pick out the countless times he could have stopped events from going down at they did, or he could buck up and move forward. Moving forward was the whole point of bringing Lt. Jensen Ackles in.

Ackles had strode into that conference room like he owned it, all defensive swagger and arrogance, despite his too pretty face. Jeff hadn't reacted well when told he was basically ordered to sleep with Jensen. Maybe he'd be the type of guy Jeff would have picked up in a bar a lifetime ago, certainly before Katie, but there hadn't been any men in his life since her death, and being forced into it stuck in his craw.

But Ackles hadn't had a choice either, Jeff reflected, just did his duty no matter who he had to sleep with. And Jeff decided he had to get over himself when two men's lives were on the line. Jeff splashed some water on his face, in an attempt to wake up.

Normally he'd be up, showered and on duty by now, but all of his time was supposed to be devoted to learning from Jensen, with the sole goal of returning to 328 and getting his people back. Jeff wasn't stupid, he knew 328 had far more to offer than two lone soldiers. More people had been sacrificed for less, in his experience. The UP saw final victory over the Confed with 328, in the technology that could only be described as alien.

He had a few hours before the scheduled conference comm with that Sex Corps general who had assigned Ackles to the mission, so Jeff decided to get in one of his required workouts. With everything that had happened, he had missed a few, and he didn't want to get soft or let his muscles go to mush that space could turn them into without regular care. Jeff snagged on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. That shower could wait till later.

The gym door slid open at his touch and Jeff stepped inside, planning on hitting one of the weight machines for some deep lifting, but motion in the open area caught his eye and Jeff turned to see Jensen working out on the mat. The lieutenant moved with careful grace, sliding into some familiar self-defense modes, clad only in a pair of black workout pants. Sweat glimmered off of his slim but tightly muscled chest, corded like a racehorse in the races popular in the Confederation.

Jeff had to stamp down the flare of arousal that coiled in his gut. He may have touched that body only last night, had even had Jensen in most of the ways that mattered, but right now that half-naked body tempted him to rise to the occasion yet again. Probably a result of his lack of a sex life before this. He hated to admit David being right about something, but surely if he was having regular sex of some kind, Ackles finely-toned body wouldn't have had such an effect on him.

"Good morning," he called, breaking Jensen's concentration and causing the other man to stumble.

Jensen turned and grinned at him. "Morning. Surprised to see you up so early."

"I'm not that easy to wear out," Jeff fell into the flirting, nice and easy.

"You don't want to challenge me on that, old man," his grin widened even more.

Jeff put his hand over his chest, and said in mock-affrontment: "I'm not that much older than you!"

"You're exactly twelve years, one month and 22 days older than me." At his glare Jensen just shrugged. "I read the mission report; I'm good at remembering things."

He would have to be, Jeff thought, he doubted the soldiers in the Sex Corps ever got any real backup in the field. Jensen was the first Scut he'd ever had to work with, so Jeff didn't know for sure, and he didn't feel comfortable asking. "Want to spar?" he said instead, turning the conversation away from the awkward subject of age.
Jensen nodded and stepped back, rotating his shoulder to stretch the muscle. "Best two out of three falls?"

"Sounds good." He slipped off his running shoes and shoved them over near the wall next to Jensen's, so they were both barefoot on the blue practice mat.

Jeff balanced his stance, keeping his knees loose and his arms up. He watched Jensen do the same and eyed the younger man for any weaknesses - he tended to drop his left shoulder, Jeff noted. They circled each other for a moment. Jeff kept his focus on Jensen's eyes, knowing from experience to look there for the next movement.

They traded blows, tentatively at first, taking the other's measure. Jensen might be younger and faster, but Jeff had experience and weight on his side. He got a hold of Jensen quickly and tried to strong-arm the slighter man to the mat. Jensen, however, used Jeff's size against him, flipping them so that Jeff found himself on his back, looking up at Jensen, who held out a hand to help him up.

"That's one," Jeff said and reevaluated.

This time, he went for a twisting move that took advantage of the weakness he saw in Jensen's shoulder and had Ackles's arm twisted around his back. Then he kicked out Jensen's legs from underneath him and won the second bout.

Jensen coughed and wiped his mouth as he stood. "Not bad for an old man."

"Not bad for a kid," Jeff teased back. There were darker things he could say, stuff he'd heard murmured around the ship, but he would never disrespect a fellow soldier that way. He might grin and call Sergeant Massee 'dirtwalker' and laugh off the 'spaceman' thrown his way, but he wouldn't want to repeat any of the words he heard to replace "Scut."
Third time was the charm and neither of them held back. Jeff threw in a few tricks he learned from fighting in planetside bars. Jensen, however, had different tricks in his arsenal, and Jeff still didn't understand how Jensen's legs wrapped around his waist and took him down to the mat. He looked up, dazed as Jensen ground down against him.

"That is three," Jensen whispered as he leaned forward, lips slick and shiny with sweat. God, Jeff just wanted to reach up and bite them.

They heard the woosh that signaled the gym door had opened and Jensen was up and off him before the group entered. Jeff moved into a simple stretch, nodding towards the crew who had gone towards the weight machines. By the time he made it to his feet, Jensen had already put on his shoes and shirt.

"Eleven hundred in the blue sector conference room?" Jensen asked.

Jeff nodded. Right, the comm call. "See you there."

He didn't watch as Jensen left the room, just went through the rest of his stretching routine before moving to the other part of the gym to take a turn on one of the weight machines. The physical activity cleared his mind, allowing him to set aside his lust for Ackles and focus on the discipline this mission would require. He had a job to do, and he couldn't let this flirtation distract him.

"Hey, Commander?" a young man asked from one of the weight benches - Jeff searched for the name and finally came up with Ensign Davis, one of the newer soldiers in the pilot rotation. Nice kid, a bit fresh, not touched yet by combat.

"Yes Ensign?" Jeff adjusted the weight machine as he spoke, programming in his specifications before dropping onto the bench.

"That the guy they brought all the way in from the other side of the galaxy for this mission?"

Jeff stilled. He thought Ackles had been the Scut closest to their sector of space, which was why Ackles got pulled off of his current assignment. "That was Lt. Ackles, yes," he said.

Another young soldier sat forward, Jeff didn't recognize her and didn't have the luxury of seeing a uniform with rank pipes to determine her rank or field. "He's with the Sex Corps." Her voice hushed as she said it.

"You ever worked with one of them before, Commander?" Davis asked. "They say...well, they say all kinda things about them."

None of which, Jeff thought, were worth repeating to a superior officer.

"I haven't had the pleasure before, no," Jeff said. "Ackles is a soldier, like yourselves. Don't forget that. He just does his job in a different way."

He didn't miss the look the two exchanged, but Jeff really couldn't reprimand them for that, not when it was true. Ackles did do most of his work on his back. Who knew how many people he had slept with in the name of UP peace? Jeff swallowed down a sour taste in his mouth, wishing he had stopped for food this morning.

He just had to get through this mission, that was all. Go to the briefing with the Sex Corps General, figure out how he was going to do this and get the job done. After that, Lt. Ackles would no longer be in his bed. It wasn't as if this were a relationship or anything more than simple lust. They had to use that and channel it, he knew, to get his people back, but then Ackles would be gone, out on whatever else soldiers in his Corps did, and Jeff would be alone, again.

***

Jensen tugged at his uniform collar. He seldom had reason to wear his uniform - the dress reds for the rare formal occasion, but the onship jumpsuits he wore even less often. He was hardly ever on a ship longer than the time it took to transport him to his next drop point. Certainly there was little reason for a Scut to serve aboard a Starship.

Maybe that custom should change, he thought. If the ship had a Scut on board before the 328 mission, they might have had an expert on hand, instead of Morgan having to guess at the entire thing and, of course, getting it wrong. Jensen had scoured the mission report and barely refrained from grinding his teeth the entire time. Anyone with any familiarity at all with d/s would have picked up on the intricacies of the society immediately - the obvious affection between master and Sub, the emphasis on taking care of one's Sub, hell the use of the word Sub at all. Clearly none of Morgan's team played in their spare time. And none, of course, had been trained as he had.

"You have to understand," he remembered Ferris saying, during a one on one that final year at the Academy when she had taken her role as his mentor very seriously, "the difference between the submissive and the slave."

"Besides the fact that a slave doesn't have a choice?" Jensen, as per usual, had been hogtied during this lecture, but he wasn't gagged, so he was free to question.

Ferris smiled at him. "What we're talking about is very real slavery - the kind you'll find in the Confed once you're out on your own. A slave is an object, a possession. A submissive can be treated like one, but ultimately, a Sub controls the scene."

"You realize I know all this." Jensen winced in preparation for a slap that never came.

"Nothing," she said, "nothing I do will totally prepare you for your first assignment as a slave."

It turned out, as usual, Ferris had been right. Jensen at least had the consolation that he would eventually be 'bought' by another undercover Scut and given his freedom back. But to have it taken away, even for a simple mission, to literally not be able to choose when or if he ate, to be considered nothing more than a thing had opened his eyes. It would be easier on him, Ferris had explained, because of his submissive nature, but having the desire to submit sexually did not help when he was punished for the first time, an experience so far from anything he had done at the Academy. He doubted even his friend Tom, a masochist, would have fared much better.

Those mission reports, the way the Subs spoke of their masters - no, what they had found on 328 was nothing like real slavery, the dark kind that soaked through the Confederation. Still, Jensen knew he was only guessing, based on a few reports and what little video made it back to the ship. After all, how could an entire society exist based on dominance and submission exist? The more he thought about it, the more he itched to see for himself, to untangle the mystery of 328. Training Jeff needed to come first, however.

Jensen continued down the ship corridor, heading towards the conference room, Jeff Morgan heavy in his thoughts. He knew little enough about the man, just the basic information given in the report - name, age, rank, - the usual. There hadn't been enough time to do any further research, and Jensen chafed at that lack. He always prepared for his missions, and not knowing more about Morgan stuck in his craw, especially since he'd have to rely on the man.

He didn't understand why Morgan unsettled him. Jensen was attracted to him, sure, but Jeff was hardly hard on the eyes - thick waves of hair Jensen just wanted to bury his fingers in, sleepy bedroom eyes, kissable lips and that lovely beard scruff. Jensen loved running his tongue over that soft stubble and wondered if he could convince Morgan to rub his face all along Jensen's skin. It didn't seem out of the realm of possibility; Morgan certainly knew he way around the bedroom, and despite his inability to do what he perceived as hurting Jensen, seemed fairly inventive and open to new things.

There, maybe that was it, Jensen hadn't been so attracted to someone he was fucking for a mission in...a long time. Five years, maybe, but his mind shied away from thinking about Danneel. He didn't want her shadow over this mission. Besides, Jensen had given up on the idea of finding a lover, a solid relationship, while still in the Corps. He couldn't commit to anyone while his body was already indebted, and afterwards, well, Jensen wasn't sure he'd be able to find someone worthy of the pedestal Jensen had spent the last five years building in his head. And of course, thinking about this in the context of Jeff Morgan was absolutely ridiculous, not when training the commander was so crucial to the mission.

Jeff himself wasn't exactly the mission. He would really be Jensen's partner, his backup in the field. Jensen worked alone and it felt strange to suddenly have to rely on someone else. Unlike many other Scuts, he never had another partner with him on any of his missions. If he had, though, he'd know exactly how far another Scut could be taken, and that he could trust that soldier to do his duty. With Jeff, he didn't know how far to take things sexually. Jeff might balk at a critical moment, might refuse to do something to Jensen out of some misguided notion of morality.

No wonder he made Jensen uneasy. He bit his lip, wondering how he'd work around this, when he came across a member of the crew in the hallway blocking his way. Jensen started when he realized exactly who the soldier was. "Hartley," he said, keeping his voice level.

"Surprised to see me, Ackles?" There was the familiar sneer Jensen remembered from boot camp.

"I'm more surprised you're still holding a grudge over something that happened ten years ago," Jensen said.

"Something that affected my entire military career."

Jensen wasn't going to do this. Hartley could blame Jensen and his friends all he wanted, but Hartley was the one who had refused Sex Corps placement, and got his own ass stuck on Earth. Nothing Jensen said would change his mind about it, he'd come across this type before.

"Look, I'm just here to do my job," Jensen held up his hands. "Congratulations on the Starship posting, Lieutenant." He started to walk away.

"You honestly think you're going to save the day aren't you? Do what Commander Morgan himself couldn't?"

Jensen's back straightened. "You weren't on the mission team, were you?"

"No," Hartley snapped back. "But no Scut whore is going to be a better soldier than the fucking hero of Alfani."

Jensen cursed mentally for a moment. "You're still spreading bullshit about Scuts?"

To his surprise Hartley laughed. "What do you think the rest of the crew thinks of you, Lieutenant," and there was mocking in his voice as he said the word.

"Whatever they think about me," Jensen said softly, "can hardly be worse than what I know about you."

Jensen stormed down the corridor, taking a quick turn even though he wasn't sure that was the right direction to go in. It wasn't as if he hadn't heard this bullshit a thousand times before. His covert successes weren't flashy, they didn't make the media, and even when the result did, few ever learned it had been at the hands of a Scut. That was the only way they could do what needed to be done, Jensen knew, but stars, it was hard sometimes. He had made a difference, he knew he had, had put so much of himself into his work and the Corps - would it hurt for once, for someone to acknowledge it?

***

Jensen appeared a few minutes late, slightly out of breath and red in the face, but he looked away when Jeff asked if he was all right. "Got lost," he admitted.

Jeff nodded. Even he had been stymied by the size of the Mercury when he first stepped foot onboard. She had been built specifically for this project, larger and faster than anything else out there, and with the full knowledge of how long her crew might need to be aboard. "Remind me to tell you about my first ship posting and how I ended up in the garbage pit. On second thought, make sure we never speak of that."

A smile appeared on Jensen's face and Jeff felt himself matching it. Good, the kid looked better with a smile.

"Will you key up the comm or should I?"

"I'll do it," Jensen approached the panel along the wall off the room. "Commander?" he asked, his hand hovering over the instrument. Jeff could see his hesitance, the stiffness in his body where he was usually so fluid. "Are you sure about this? I was trained for it, but, you...can you go through with it?"

Jensen spoke so softly Jeff had to strain to hear. He would bet his pension that wasn't what Jensen had intended to ask at all. "I thought we were making progress," Jeff answered carefully.

"We are," Jensen turned towards him. "This isn't your duty. You didn't set out to earn your commission on..." he halted his words, "Like I do."

Someone had gotten to Ackles, Jeff thought, more of the crew's whispers, maybe. "Those are my people down on that planet, Lieutenant. I have a responsibility to them. If I have to do something outside of my training...well, that's what service is about, isn't it?"

"Even if it means demeaning yourself?"

"How can it be demeaning if I'm saving lives?"

Jensen nodded to himself, as if satisfied. Then he finally keyed up the commlink and stepped back. The screen along the wall flickered to life. If they weren't so far out from UP space, there would be a hologram transmission directly in the conference room, as if General Ferris sat in the room herself. However, they were lucky to get a picture at all, and that only because the UP had been relentlessly placing boosting beacons all along the route to the Lost Colonies.

Lines of static appeared on the screen, until finally the image of a woman came into view - tall, strong jaw, intense looking eyes. She wore the full reds of a Sex Corps Brigadier General, not a stitch out of place. Jeff counted the ribbons on her chest and nodded to himself, impressed. "Good morning, Lt. Ackles. It is still morning where you are?"

"Yes, General. Good morning," Jensen grinned at her after he saluted. "This is Commander Jeff Morgan."

Jeff nodded at the screen. "Pleased to meet you, sir."

She turned that serious gaze onto him and Jeff felt she could see right through him and then some. "Morgan...I've heard that name before."

He shrugged. His bout of celebrity was long over, it was only new pilots who still spoke of him with any reverence. As far as Jeff was concerned, he had only done his duty, what any pilot in the same situation should have done. It wasn't like he hadn't had ten long years of missions gone wrong to make up for it. Years of missions and that one time he should have been there and wasn't. He noticed Jensen looking at him, his gaze eerily similar to Ferris's.

"I've skimmed your report, Lt. Ackles. It seems like you are making progress."

When had Jensen had time to send a report? Maybe he hadn't gone to sleep at all last night; his reasons for leaving Jeff's quarters no longer seemed so sinister.

"Yes, sir," Jensen said. "Not that I couldn't use a month's worth of training."

"We don't have a month, Lieutenant."

Ferris turned her gaze back onto Jeff and then static filled the screen for another long moment. Jensen turned a dial on the panel and the visual smoothed. "Do you think you can pull this off now?"

Jensen looked sideways over at Jeff, and he didn't quite know what to say; he wasn't at all sure they could pull it off. Jeff understood a little more than he had yesterday, or the first day Ackles had walked onto the ship, but not enough to say whether they could fool the citizens of 328.

Finally, Jensen's shoulders fell and he admitted. "I'm not sure."

"You have to be certain, Lieutenant." Ferris snapped. "Take 24 hours. Do not drop character for the duration. If you can do that, then I'll sign off on the mission. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Jensen said, Jeff echoing him a second afterwards.

Ferris leaned forward, as if reaching for her own panel. More lines appeared across the screen. "Watch yourself, Ackles. And Morgan? You better take care of my boy." With that the connection snapped shut.

Jensen blushed again, his cheeks more red than pink. "She was my mentor back at the Academy. She's a bit...overprotective."

Jeff laughed. "I can see that. I wouldn't want to cross her. So," he paused. "How are we going to do this?"

"I'll meet you at your quarters in an hour or so, I need to pack a few things," Jensen looked thoughtful, as if mulling her words over. "We can plan the scene out then."

"The scene..." Jeff let his words trail off.

Jensen rolled his eyes. "Tell me you at least did the reading I sent you. Even though it's for a longer period of time, yes, it is still a scene."

Jeff nodded as if he understood and made a mental note to review the texts Jensen had sent his way. He had read them, but clearly, hadn't understood enough. "I'll see you in a hour then."

***

Jeff looked up from his personal terminal at the door chime. He clicked off the screen so Jensen wouldn't see that Jeff was still reviewing his documents. "Enter!" he called and the door slid open revealing Jensen and two standard issue duffel bags.

"Planning on moving in?" Jeff asked as Jensen set one bag down on the bed - sheets freshly changed, Jeff made sure of that before he started reviewing his notes - and the other on the floor next to it.

"Well, that is what I'm doing, for the next 24 hours at least." Jensen kicked the bag on the floor. "Spare clothing. This one," he laid a hand on the bag on the bed, "is my toybag. You've seen most of the stuff in here."

"But not all," Jeff sat on the bed next to him, eager to explore.

Jensen rolled his eyes, but smiled. "You're like a kid during the holidays." He unzipped the bag. "We should talk about a few things first, before we start the scene."

"That's probably a good idea," Jeff agreed. They wouldn't be able to stop at all, and Jeff would have to act as if he knew what he was doing. Any hesitation on his part could ruin the entire mission. Their practice run had to go as smoothly as possible. "Is there anything I should avoid, for starters?"

Jensen's hand stilled on the zipper, stalled in the motion of reaching inside. "Blood," he said frankly, not looking at Jeff. "I don't keep any knives or scalpels, and I don't even have a single-tailed whip."

"That's..." Jeff began.

"I know it's strange."

"I wasn't going to say that at all," Jeff said. "I was going to say that's good to know."

Jensen nodded. He pulled open the bag as if Jeff hadn't spoken.

"It's not that I have an aversion to being hurt. I've been hurt. I just don't like bleeding as part of a scene. If we're forced into it, somehow, and you can't talk us out of it, you have to know I'll probably pass out. A good Dom wouldn't do something like that. He'd know how far he could take his Sub and be sure to care for any of the fallout afterwards."

"But I don't know how far you can go," Jeff pointed out. He watched as Jensen started to spread out his equipment on the bed -- a startling assortment of dildos, paddles, collars, harnesses and items Jeff had no words for.

"I realize that," Jensen said, gesturing with an incredibly long phallic-shaped object. Jeff bit his lip to keep from laughing, they were actually attempting to be serious here. Jensen caught his grin and set the thing down with a chuckle. "Where we're going, there will be no safewords, no way for me to call a stop to a scene. But you can always end it, or scale things back. A good Dom knows how to read his Sub, can tell when it's too much."

Sometimes Jeff wondered if Jensen was quoting from a textbook. "And..."

Jensen held out his hands. "I can't safeword, but I can signal you in a way they won't know." He crossed two of his fingers on his right hand. "We can agree on codes for everything from 'slow down' to 'stop the scene now.'"

"Or you can let me know when I'm not being hard enough," Jeff pointed out, impressed with the idea. At Jensen's nod, they worked out a few different messages, and Jeff told him to make sure to use them over the next twenty-four hours. "To practice my response." Jeff had used hand signals before, but never quite in this context, so he wanted to be sure he'd notice, no matter how deep he had gotten into the scene - now there he went, using Jensen's term for it.

He was aware of how much power he would hold over Jensen, in the next day and during the actual mission. Unlike commanding a mission, where, yes, his soldiers' lives and obedience were his responsibility, this seemed too intimate. He might have lectured his men a time or two about watching where they planted their dicks, but otherwise, he never thought of his control extending to the bedroom. Jensen's body should be his own, and not given over like a tool.

Or a weapon.

"What's this?" Jeff asked, hand closing over a velvet covered box. He opened it despite Jensen's sharp intake of breath. Inside, nestled carefully in a soft divot created especially for the object, sat a long glass cylinder. Jeff pulled it out, holding onto the flared base and marveling at the whirls of color inside the glass - a forest green and a vivid blue - and how the tip curved into spirals. "It's beautiful," clearly a work of art.

When he finally looked up, he saw Jensen's face had turned scarlet. "It was a gift," Jensen said, reaching out to pluck the object from his hand. Only then did Jeff realize he held a sex toy. "I forgot I had it in there. It shouldn't, I don't, I mean, just don't use it."

"I'm sorry," Jeff said. He surreptitiously wiped his hand on his pants.

Jensen laughed. He put the toy away and tucked it into a zippered pocket of the duffel. "We'll just forget it's there."

Jeff didn't ask if Jensen had ever actually used it. It was glass after all. He really didn't want to know. He picked through the selection of collars - Jensen really did have a lot. They were all different too - solid leather, metal, chain, cloth, braided leather, one of fine silver more like a necklace than a collar. "Do you have a preference for one of these?" he asked.

Jensen looked over. "I've used them all for different situations. Why do you ask?"

"I just figured, we could use one to tell when we've started. As long as you're wearing one, we're in scene."

"You have done your reading," Jensen murmured. He pointed to a black leather collar with a metal clasp at the ends and an o-ring connected to the very front. "I think that one is our best bet."

"Is it comfortable?" Jeff took it in his hands doubtfully.

"It'll be fine," Jensen assured him. "There's something else we have to cover."

Jeff put the collar on his lap. "All right?"

"Do you remember what I said last night - the whole dog analogy?"

"Hard to forget, actually." Katie had had a dog, to keep her warm when Jeff was on duty, she had said. So much of their marriage had been spent apart, so much time wasted.

"It goes a little further. Look, this mission, the next twenty-four hours, this is more than just some kinky sex. This is a total power exchange. You are responsible for me. Making sure I have food, that I have time to groom," Jensen tilted his head in the direction of the head and Jeff got his meaning. "You decide if I wear clothes or not, when I sleep, if I sleep. I won't be able to remind you. You have to remember that I can't speak up. If I do..."

"Mission failed," Jeff frowned. Talk about responsibility indeed. He had to change his way of thinking, especially of how he thought about Ackles. Oddly, it felt more like caring for a child than being responsible for a member of his team. Oh, now that made his head hurt, he didn't want to put the idea of babysitting in with sex.

"Look," Jensen said. "From what I got from the mission reports, 328 doesn't think of what they do as slavery."

Clearly, since bringing that up had been part of why they had seized Jeff's men. And Jeff hadn't even been the one to say it, Johnson had been angry enough to compare the society to the Confederation and then, that's when all hell had broken loose. "No," Jeff agreed. "But isn't that what this is?"

"I've been a slave," Jensen said, and that had Jeff's head snapping up. "And it bears similarities, yes, but unlike a slave, I'll still have some rights as a person. I read the mission report. None of the subs you saw were abused."

Jeff nodded. "Although it sure looked like abuse from where I stood."

Jensen blew out a frustrated breath. "You saw for yourself how much I got off on the flogger. Some Scuts like it even more than I do. Friend of mine loves bloodplay. Sometimes pain can bring pleasure. For me it's more..." He clenched his fists as he paused. "I don't have to think. I can just be. Someone else holds the reins. Do you understand?"

"I think so. But do you think it's like that for everyone on 328?"

"I don't know. I've been places where it's claimed to be fair to the slaves, that they're doing something noble and good by enslaving them, taking care of the poor for example. And no, that hasn't been the case at all.However, I won't know for sure till I get down there."

"And before that happens, we have to do this." Jeff picked up the collar.

Jensen nodded. He flicked his eyes over to the comm. "It's 1330. Till this time tomorrow." He slid off of the bed and knelt between Jeff's legs, head tilted up, baring his throat. Jensen took a hold of Jeff's wrist, the hand holding the collar, brought it forward and lifted the hanging end of the collar to place a kiss on the soft leather. "Put it on me. I'm yours till it comes off."

Jeff swallowed thickly. Something stirred inside him, dark and dangerous, at the thought of being able to do anything to this man. He couldn't help the flare of arousal, the lust that rose at the sight of Jensen on his knees for him, baring the smooth pale skin of his throat. Jeff lifted the collar and fit it around Jensen's neck, leaning forward so he could hook the clasp. It fit perfectly; the o-ring lay entirely against Jensen's Adam's apple. The leather moved as Jensen's swallowed.

Jeff had to touch it, so he gave into the impulse to run his fingers along the smooth leather where it kissed Jensen's skin. Jensen's eyes fluttered closed. "I'm yours," Jensen had said, as long as the collar touched his skin. If only that were really true, and how odd, Jeff thought, to suddenly want to own another human being. Jensen made it easy though, easy to want, to lust, to need.

He slid his fingers up Jensen's throat, stilling on his chin. "Kiss me," he said, moving in to take those plump lips. Jensen opened in response, tilting his head to meet Jeff. Finally. He took his time, tasting those sweet lips, pushing his tongue past them and taking control. Jensen didn't move, just opened, just gave whatever Jeff demanded.

It made him harder than diamonds.

***

Of course Jeff would start with kissing, Jensen thought. Most of the people he'd bedded had some sort of fascination with his lips, but he found men more likely to want these lips wrapped around their cocks. He supposed they would get to that eventually; Jeff simply didn't have the experience for anything more creative, not unless he started imitating what he had seen on 328.

Jeff continued to devour his mouth, towering over him, his presence huge. He made Jensen feel small, and yes, Morgan was taller and broader, but Jensen wasn't tiny by any means. He'd learned how to tuck himself in, look smaller if that was what the mission required. Right now he could only guess and trust Jeff to lead, to let the man guide Jensen like a true Dom would.

Jensen wished, sometimes, that he could just kneel back and enjoy this, that he could let himself relax in the middle of a scene, slip into that coveted headspace where nothing mattered but serving his master. He couldn't remember the last time he'd played a scene for pleasure, among friends and people he trusted. The halcyon days at the Academy were long behind him and Jensen yearned for that, to be able to just let go and let himself be led. But this was his job, damn it. He had to fake it as best as he could, remember how it felt when it was so perfect and make sure he looked the proper Sub. Their very lives could depend on it.

This shouldn't be so difficult. He'd been in worse situations, with much less reason to trust the people he had been forced to work with. Jensen could feel the attraction leeching off of Morgan, the man wanted Jensen. And Jensen wanted him, he couldn't deny his own desire, he was too well trained for that. But it didn't matter what either of them wanted or how good the sex was, this was simply for the sake of the mission.

Jeff pulled away with one last caress of Jensen's throat. He liked the collar far too much for someone who was formerly so vanilla. Jensen licked his lips, savoring the taste of Jeff's mouth; who knew when he would get it again. He watched as Jeff's eyes narrowed at the action, oh yes, Jensen knew exactly what he was doing.

"Strip off your uniform," Jeff said, his voice deep with command. "Fold it neatly and place it on the chair over there. Then you will clean up the mess on the bed. Leave out only a set of clamps, restraints and a plug."

Jensen stood to unzip his jumpsuit, but then Jeff's hand was tight around his wrist. "Did I say you could stand?"

He swallowed, lowering his eyes in submission. "No, sir."

Jeff let go of his wrist and Jensen dropped back to his knees and struggled to pull off the jumpsuit. He was aware of being watched, as he crawled, bare-assed, across the room to put the uniform where Jeff had indicated. He wouldn't be needing that for a while. Jensen turned back towards the bed, Jeff's eyes still on him. So he went all out, rippling his back as he stalked forward on hands and knees, meeting Jeff's eyes and making sure his own gaze smoldered with desire. Jensen knew exactly how to work his body, his training had made him fully aware of his own assets, and he learned to intuit whatever motion pleased the most, whoever his target at the time.

When Jeff pushed himself off the bed and started to pace the room, Jensen knew he had been successful. He smirked to himself as he cleared the toys off the bed, packing them back neatly in his duffel. Jeff hadn't specified which set of clamps or plug, so he chose his favorites, clamps that pinched just the right amount, a plug that wouldn't stretch him too wide.

He sat back on his legs and waited for his next command.

Jeff didn't disappoint.

"Get on the bed, up on your knees." Jeff's voice was like gravel, rumbling and deep. It made Jensen rush to obey, climbing onto the hard mattress and kneeling just over the pillow, facing the headboard. "Put the clamps on."

Jensen didn't know if Jeff wanted a show, how he wanted his slave to act - all seductive or shy. How would the people of 328 expect their Subs to please? Were they all sweet and shy? Did they pretend to be surly and obey only reluctantly? Would some cheek be welcome, or would it be punished outright? Damn it, there was so much he didn't know! He pinched his nipples to hardness, not looking at Jeff as he did so, then carefully attached the clamps, the chain swinging between his nipples, catching the sensitive skin of his chest.

"Hands on the headboard," Jeff ordered, then when Jensen obeyed, used the restraints to tie Jensen's wrists to the slats there. Jensen gripped the edge, feeling the hard plastic bite into his palms. Jeff ran his hands along Jensen's back, pulling him into position, pushing his legs forward so his ass rose into the air, but not so much as to cause discomfort.

Then Jensen waited, his body tight and oversensitive, too aware of the bite of the clamps around his nipples, the tightening of the restraints around his wrist, the way he knelt on display for Jeff. He bit his lip and tried to look out of the corner of his eye to see where Jeff had gone.

Then soft fabric covered his eyes as Jeff fitted an effective blindfold over them. Jensen gasped - Jeff hadn't pulled that from Jensen's bag and had surprised him. He hadn't expected that of the commander. "All right?" Jeff whispered in his ear, breath warm and moist.

Jensen made the signal for "I'm all right" with his fingers and Jeff grunted before moving away. He strained to hear what Jeff planned next, but didn't hear any rustling in his duffel and Jeff hadn't ordered him to remove any floggers or paddles. But he did ask him to...

That's when slick fingers probed at his entrance. Jensen fought to keep from moving away, to let himself be opened. "Easy," Jeff said, a gentle hand on his lower back, holding him in place. Jensen relaxed, simple as that, and bore down against the plug Jeff pushed inside him. It stretched him pleasantly, not so little that he couldn't feel the burn, but not so wide as to be uncomfortable. He'd once worn this one all day in preparation for some fast and deep fucking later. Jensen remembered how he had squirmed whenever he needed to sit, never quite able to get comfortable, never able to forget the mark of ownership deep inside him.

He swallowed, feeling the collar on his throat, wishing it meant more than just this simple little trial, that it wasn't just for yet another mission. At the end of the year he'd finish his second tour of duty and he still didn't know if he would sign up for five more years. Jensen shifted on his knees, easing the aches in his thigh muscles. Could he do this for much longer? Submit his body over and over again and never gain what he most needed, someone just for himself?

His cock ached between his legs, hard and leaking, and unable to get any relief. Jeff had shown some real talent here, tying Jensen so he couldn't get any friction. All he could do was wait to see what Jeff would do next. He strained once more to hear, but could only make out the sounds of typing. Was Jeff...doing work? How long would he leave Jensen tied like this, prepared for his pleasure and just waiting to be used?

His dick grew impossibly harder and he bit his lip again to keep from moaning at that thought. It wouldn't do to show any signs of how much he liked this, being turned into nothing more than an object for his master's pleasure. No, he couldn't give Jeff the satisfaction, he was doing this, after all, so they could go on the mission to free his men. Jensen was nothing more than a means to an end.

And now he really wanted to groan. He reminded himself to give Jeff a lesson on cock rings afterward, because he found himself dangerously close on the anticipation alone. How long would Jeff make him wait? Maybe, maybe Jeff wanted him to beg. Jensen had certainly encountered Doms like that.

"Please," he whispered, pausing to wet his dry lips, the word coming out more wrecked than he had meant it to.

The click-clap of the typing stopped. Jensen could hear the heavy footfalls on the carpeted floor, could feel the bed dip when Jeff sat beside him. For a moment, there was nothing and Jensen realized Jeff might be looking at his hands, for some signal that this was too far. They really didn't have a signal for "I'm damn horny and I don't know what you want," though in retrospect, Jensen should have thought of one.

"Please what?" Jeff asked slowly.

"Please, I need..." Jensen began, only to start at the sudden smack on his ass. What had he forgotten? Oh. "Please, sir..." When no further smack was forthcoming, Jensen continued. "I don't know what you want. I want to be good." It was the truth, after all.
Jensen felt a gentle hand in his hair, stroking slowly, like one would a beloved pet. "You are good," Jeff said softly. "You just need to learn a little more patience."

He nearly laughed. If only Jeff knew how patient he could be. He blamed Jeff for his sudden uncertainty, for all the rules he knew, all the ways he should act, all that was blown by this man and his inexperience. Jeff had to train him what to expect, even more than Jensen could train Jeff how to act.

"I'm sorry," Jensen said, because that's what you did, in an unknown situation with an untried Dom, you apologized. He knew exactly how much cheek he could get away with General Ferris, before it would delve into punishment territory. He had no idea what to expect here.

"Not that sorry," Jeff said, sounding amused as he slipped a hand between Jensen's legs, to tug at his cock. Jensen shivered, the sensation nearly too much. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Please," he said again, needed to feel owned, possessed, to have Jeff all around him and over him and in him.

"Say it."

"P-please, sir, fuck me." Jensen was nothing if not obedient.

"You slut," Jeff said, still with that amusement in his voice. "Nothing shames you."

It had been a long time since Jensen had felt shame about this. He didn't have time for shame. "No, sir," he said.

Jeff's only response was to remove the plug, twisting it until it pulled free of Jensen's body. Jensen waited, open and ready, his body aching to be filled. He remembered Jeff's words on patience, so he stayed still and didn't speak. He heard nothing but Jeff's breath and his own, in sync, and the hum of the terminal in the corner. Sweat trickled down his spine, and his back ached to hold the position. Still, Jensen waited.

He had learned his lesson, his body told Jeff. He was there for Jeff's use, nothing more. Jensen gave in, a soft sigh escaping his lips. Jeff would fuck him when he was darn well good and ready. At least he hadn't gone back to his terminal to work. That made Jensen feel the tiniest bit insecure. He thought Jeff wanted him, how could he stand to have Jensen bound, naked and slicked up and not do anything?

"Someone once told me," Jeff said softly, hands grazing along Jensen's sides, causing him to tense. "that sex was about anticipation..."

He took hold of Jensen's cheeks, a globe in each hand and pulled them apart, revealing his hole. Jensen felt cold air blow over the sensitive skin and shuddered. He arched his back, pushing his ass backward, but the warmth disappeared. Right, anticipation.

The bed dipped as Jeff climbed on, and his warmth covered Jensen as his slid over, their naked skin touching. Jensen could feel the blunt head of a cock at his opening but nothing more. How could Jeff stand it? Jensen groaned, unable to stay silent any longer, to bear this without comment. He would hold still and wait, but not without comment.

A chuckle of warm breath slid along his back and Jeff pressed inside, finally, filling Jensen as he needed. Jeff slid an arm around Jensen's torso and took hold of his shoulder, holding Jensen in place as he fucked him, deep powerful thrusts, again and again. Jensen could do nothing but rock his body back and forth, still holding onto the headboard and hoping his legs would hold out as he took the pounding.

Jeff shifted back, changing the angle and Jensen nearly yelled as he cried out, the sudden pleasure almost too much. He couldn't hope to hold back any longer and hoped Jeff would let him come soon. "Please, please, please," he realized he was chanting, but couldn't help it. Stars, he needed so badly.

"C'mon, kid," Jeff whispered. "Come on my cock, baby, I know you can..."

And that was all he needed, the permission, and Jensen flew, his orgasm nearly painful as it rushed through him. Jeff groaned behind him, long and hard as he stilled, pulse after pulse filling Jensen to the brim.

His hands shook when Jeff untied him and pulled off the blindfold. "Easy," Jeff wiped him down, carefully, manhandling Jensen under the covers and sliding behind him. "Rest up now. You were good, so good, boy."

Jensen shivered and pushed back against Jeff, desperate to feel that warmth against his skin. He must have made some noise, because Jeff shushed him again. "Sleep, while you can."

He tucked his face against warm skin and obeyed.

***

Jeff watched Jensen sleep. He had slid out from the covers as soon as he was certain he wouldn't wake the other man up. A glass of water sat on the table next to the bed, along with some toast from his kitchenette, in case Jensen woke up hungry. Jeff had pulled on his sleep pants, and dropped into his desk chair and just watched Jensen's chest rise and fall, his eyelashes curved over his still flushed cheeks.

God, if the kid gave that much of himself every time he did this, it was a wonder he could hold it together at all. Jeff didn't know if all of Jensen's scenes were like this or if it was something just between the two of them. He snorted, yeah, old man, you'd like to think that, wouldn't you? He'd like to imagine some sort of connection, built on nothing more than their bodies. Jeff knew better, knew that it was duty that bound them, instead of mutual liking, an attraction that might be turned to something more and a sharp spark of lust couldn't change that.

He could use a drink, Jeff thought, thinking longingly of the whiskey Rick had given him before he joined the Reclamation crew. It would be irresponsible for him to indulge, but he missed the burn of it down his throat right at the moment.

How much of that was an act? He wondered. Women, he knew, could fake orgasms, but Jensen couldn't hide his body's responses, couldn't fake one like that. He had looked so at home on his knees, so desperate for whatever Jeff could give him. And when he had finally come - clamping down on Jeff's cock like a vice - it had been a revelation. Maybe, Jeff thought, just maybe they had a chance of this whole thing working out.

The comm chimed on his personal terminal, flashing blue to indicate an off-ship call. Jeff pulled on his t-shirt from the gym that morning - still where he had tossed it on the back of his chair, sloppy that - and shifted the screen away from the bed and Jensen before he flicked it on. "Morgan," he said.

An image of a young man came to life, flickering like all images from Earth tended to do out here. Even so, Jeff could see he was good looking, with shaggy dark hair, exotic looking eyes and a strong, pointed jaw. "Oh, hi," he said, in a deep baritone of a voice. "I'm looking for Jensen Ackles, someone transferred me to this comm signal."

Of course, Jeff thought, there had to be a boyfriend back home. What did he think, despite his job, Ackles didn't have any other lovers, any need for a connection beyond the sex required as part of his duty? A flare of anger rose in his chest and Jeff fought to push it down. He had no reason to be angry, he had known from the start this was for the mission. Jeff didn't have a claim on Jensen, despite the temporary collar around his throat.

"Yes, I can get him for you," Jeff said, reaching to flip the comm onto mute.

"Tell him it's Jared," the young man said.

Jeff nodded and hit the button. He moved to the bed, where Jensen curled on his side, arms tucked under the pillow, chest moving slowly with his soft snores. For a moment he hated to wake him, Ackles looked peaceful and much younger than his thirty-odd years. Jeff touched Jensen's shoulder, shaking him gently.

Jensen's eyes opened, and blinked up at him, cloudy with confusion. As he sat up and stretched, awareness returned to them. Jeff gestured to the bottle of water he had placed on the end table and waited until Jensen took a long drink before he spoke. "There is a call on the comm for you.

"He says his name is Jared."

Jensen's face changed completely, his eyes widening and eyebrows shot up high on his forehead. He bit his lip and Jeff could see him fighting to stay in character. "May I speak to him, sir?"

A dark part of Jeff wanted to tell him no. No, you can't talk to your little boyfriend. Not where Jeff had to hear anyway. But Jeff wasn't that petty. "You may," he said. "You have ten minutes."

Shadows darkened Jensen's face. But no anger showed in his tone as he asked. "May I wear clothes to speak with my brother?"

Jeff felt twelve kinds of foolish. The good-looking young man with the floppy hair was Jensen's brother, NOT his lover. He swallowed. There was no way to apologize, but Jeff could be less of an asshole of a master. "You may." Jeff turned and left Jensen in peace, retreating to the kitchenette in the corner of his quarters to give the soldier an illusion of privacy at least.

When he looked back, Jensen had pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt from his duffel bag of clothes before sliding into the rolling chair in front of Jeff's terminal. He switched on the button and said softly, "Hey bro."

"You were supposed to call me yesterday." Jared's voice came accusingly from the speakers. Jeff was glad he hadn't lowered the sound any. He wanted to hear this, even if it did make him as bad as his sisters during a family barbecue. Jensen was such an enigma, Jeff didn't know anything about him other than he was damn good in bed and did that for a living.

"I'm sorry," Jensen said. "I'm in the middle of a mission, and it slipped my mind."

"You usually call before you go. Never heard from you during one before."

"This one is a little complicated." Jensen took in a deep breath of air and almost looked over his shoulder, catching himself at the last moment.

"I know, you can't talk about it." Jared sounded exasperated, but not surprised. "I wanted to show you the ring. Before you left and I couldn't get in touch with you."

Jensen laughed. "You're finally going to ask her? It's only been what, seven years."

"Shut up. You know I wanted to finish my residency first. Anyway, here."

Jeff couldn't see the picture from where he stood. He could only imagine what an engagement ring would look like and moved to the sink and started washing the glasses he had in the drying rack, just to distract his hands. There hadn't been a ring, with Katie. She wasn't exactly that type of woman.

"That Mom's?" Jensen asked, or at least, that's what Jeff made out over the sounds of the water. He turned off the sink and started to dry.

"...made it over for me," Jared was saying. "Do you think she'll like it?"

"Yeah, kid, I think she will."

"You gonna be my best man?"

"What makes you think she'll say yes?"

"Shut up."

"Jared," Jensen started, and then paused. "I'd be proud to be your best man."

"Thank you."

***

Jensen shut off the terminal after Jared cut the connection. Immediately afterward, he stripped off his clothing and dropped to his knees. Jeff had given him rules and he had to follow them. He hadn't called Jared yesterday, not having expected to be bound like this until actually leaving for the planet. Jensen always called his brother before going on a mission. They tried to pretend it wasn't because Jensen didn't expect to come back.

He didn't know what had crawled up Jeff's ass, the commander had taken a complete shift in persona at Jared's call, almost angry at something interrupting them. Maybe he didn't want the outside world to break in on this little experimental scene. Tough, Jensen thought, Morgan would have to be prepared to do this in public, as well as private

"That was your brother?" Morgan said, coming back around from the kitchenette. It had sounded like he had washed a million dishes in there.

"Yes, sir," Jensen answered, keeping his arms behind his back and his head lowered.

"You often have family call when you're on-duty?" Jeff sounded disappointed.

"Just my brother," Jensen said. He clenched his hands into fists, glad they were hidden behind him, where Jeff couldn't see. "Sir," he added at the last minute, noting the stormy expression on Jeff's face. It was hard to get back into the headspace he needed for this, having to break out so thoroughly to talk to Jared.

"He's the only one who finds it worth his time to talk to you?"

Jensen turned away, clamping his jaw shut, teeth grinding together as he fought not to answer. He didn't want to. "He's the only family I have."

"No parents?"

For a moment Jensen wondered if Jeff served as an interrogator for the Space Corps. He was like a dog stubbornly going after the same ball, again and again. "They're dead." Jensen knew his tone bordered on insubordinate, both military and sub, but damn it he didn't want to talk about this to a man he hardly knew. Before Jeff could ask any more he anticipated the next question. "They were killed. At Alfani."

Jeff drew back as if struck and Jensen felt a surge of satisfaction. He had known Jeff had been there, done something - stupid Hartley and his insinuations and Jensen with no time to find out exactly what had happened there.

If he couldn't gain control of his temper, they were done before this mission had even started. Jensen remembered his signals and moved so his hands rested on his thighs, where he put them into the position for "Stop." So stupid, he should have done this at the very first question. For some reason, Jeff got under his skin in a way Jensen hadn't experienced in a long time

"Do you..." Jeff stopped himself mid-question. "You have twenty minutes to shower and...groom. Get to it."

Jensen turned and crawled to the shower gratefully, glad for the reprieve. Once inside, he stood luxuriating under the warm water. Thank goodness this ship had been designed for comfort, for the long haul unlike the warships that barely had enough beds for the entire crew, the ships they didn't expect to last very long. He wondered what it would be like to visit 328, to find a planet of humans who didn't know entire galaxies of planets existed nor where they had come from. If anything could have gotten him interested in the Space Corps before everything happened, Jensen thought he could have gotten into the idea of this kind of exploration. Not the looking for new resources, for planets with the precious fuel the UP needed to power everything, or raw materials to create new and more powerful weapons, but just seeing what was out there.

He closed his eyes under the water and washed quickly, knowing he was on a time limit. Jensen tried to slip back into character, into the Sub he knew he could be. Something itched under his skin, keeping him on edge, even under the soothing patter of the water. Slipping out of the shower, he shrugged and stopped trying to force it. It would come, or it wouldn't. He could fake it if necessary, he had on more than one occasion. This was too important not to.

Jeff waited for him when he left the lavatory, sitting on the bed and just watching as Jensen crawled across the room towards him. He focused on the uneven feel of the carpet beneath his skin, scratchy and rough, the kind designed to deal with anything but bare flesh. Would it kill someone to actually put soft carpet in a military bedroom? Even the plain metal decking would be better for crawling, no chance of rug burn. Jensen swallowed to keep from laughing; perhaps he had been on his knees in far too many similar places.

"Are you hungry?" Jeff asked softly.

Jensen was about to say no, but he thought about it first, considering when he last ate. "Yes, sir."

"Get something from the kitchen. You may walk."

Jensen obeyed, conscious of Jeff's eyes glued to his bare buttocks as Jensen crossed the room. He found sandwich fixings in the tiny fridge, the only thing Jeff must have taken from supply. Only higher officers had these kitchenettes, the rest of the crew took their meals in the mess. Jensen filled a plate and carried it back into the bedroom. He placed it on the bed, then slid back to his knees, eying Jeff expectantly.

Jeff's brow furrowed, and he stared down at Jensen and then the food, clearly not putting two and two together. Jensen nearly rolled his eyes, but he merely took on the role, lifting the plate and holding it out to Jeff, flat on both of his palms while he held his mouth open. Finally, Morgan figured it out and reached out to pick up one of the pieces of sandwich, Jensen had cut it into bite-sized portions before bringing the food out here, and carefully fed the food to Jensen.

None of his teeth touched Jeff, but Jensen's lips clamped down on his finger, sucking on the digit before he could pull away. He looked up from under his lashes, giving Morgan the look that had ensnared so many others.

But Jeff didn't look aroused at all. His brow furrowed as he started down at Jensen, a strange expression on his face, he looked almost - disturbed.

Finally, Jensen thought, pulling away with one final lick on the very tip of Jeff's finger. Finally, he gets it. Jeff should be disturbed. Jensen would be entirely dependent on Jeff for everything on 328, and it was about time the man realized the weight of that responsibility. If it took feeding Jensen for him to understand, well, there were a hell of a lot worse ways for him to realize. At least he figured it out now and not in the middle of the mission.

Jeff fed him the rest of the sandwich, but Jensen refrained from any more finger sucking. It was mechanical, a duty to get through. Jeff wiped his hand on his lap after Jensen took the last piece. He cleared his throat. "I picked out clothes for you to wear. We're going to the officer's lounge tonight."

In public? Jensen felt a chill race down his spine. He never had a problem being put on display, the four years at the Academy had gotten rid of any sense of shame he had left.
But this, this was different. The people at the lounge weren't Scuts, they weren't anonymous Confed citizens he'd never see again; they were Space Corps military, like Hartley. Jensen wouldn't be able to escape the whispers, and showing up at Jeff's side like this would just give credence to the rumors.

He met Jeff's eye and nodded, because they had to do this. If they couldn't play the role outside of this bedroom, how could they play it for the aliens on 328?

Jeff had picked out civilian dress which made sense seeing as how they were going to one of the locations the crew gathered when off-duty. The Mercury included several places like that, soldiers would need them to unwind, being too far from any safe planet for shore leave. Jensen had thought he wouldn't have the chance to explore any of the sites, though now it looked like he would, albeit not exactly how he would have chosen.

The pants were a dark navy wash, the black shirt long-sleeved and molded to his skin, cut low enough to show off the collar on Jensen's neck. The dark colors highlighted the pallor of his complexion. A little liner around his eyes would help, Jensen thought, looking in the mirror after slipping on his black regulation boots; the were the only footwear he brought to Jeff's room and Jeff would not let him go barefoot.

"Let's go," Jeff said, looking uncomfortable in his own civilian dress. He wore a pale button-down shirt over a dark pair of jeans, the scruff Jensen liked so much cleared from his face, which looked shiny and unfamiliar in the room's bright lighting. "You will walk with me."

Good, Jensen thought, following a pace or two behind Jeff's left shoulder, otherwise it would take them forever if he had to crawl across the ship. Jeff seemed to have no trouble giving orders outside of sex, but of course he was a military commander. He was getting better at commanding during sex as well, and Jensen's face heated at the thought, remembering being bound and just waiting for Jeff to come to him.

They took a lift to the lounge, which occupied the same level as some of the other recreational activities - one of the pools, the restaurants for the civilian personnel, the supply center, and the non-military gyms and tracks. Outside the double doors that led to the officers' club, two heavily muscled crewmembers stood, obviously given bouncer duty for the evening.

"Evening, Commander," one of them said to Jeff.

"Evening Sergeant. Everything quiet tonight?"

"Hope so, sir." The Sergeant pulled open the glass door for them. "Enjoy yourselves." He even gave Jensen a polite nod, minus the knowing smirk that usually accompanied the gesture, which Jensen appreciated.

The whispers had started from the moment he stepped aboard the ship, fresh from the cruiser dispatched especially to bring him here. Ferris had pulled him off his previously scheduled mission, and only her clout and faith in him had gotten the Space Corps to get him here from so far away. She knew and valued his expertise over anyone else in the service. It was a pity none of the crew thought the same, that his very experience was what set him apart as a whore and a slut, not the soldier who was going to save the asses of two of theirs, never mind get a treaty in place with 328.

He had to do it first, Jensen reminded himself, squaring his shoulders as they entered, and with Morgan's help, not alone. There couldn't be arrogance in this, unlike the vanity in the ones who mocked him; Jensen needed to be aware of his weaknesses as well as his strengths.

Dim blue light surrounded the officer's lounge, a startling contrast to the bright lighting in the rest of the ship. A square bar took up much of the center, in classic faux wood, colored glasses stacked in the center, and several tenders made their way around, passing out drinks and food to the off-duty crew. Tables dotted the area around the bar, with soft couches across the very far back of the room. Jensen could see a stage area set up, with a microphone and a spotlight, but no singer just yet.

Jeff led them through the crowd, Jensen following a few steps behind him as Jeff nodded and waved at people he knew, responding to the shouts of recognition, but not stopping. He commandeered one of the couches at the back, settling into it with a contented sigh. Before Jensen could drop to his knees by his side, Jeff snapped his fingers and pointed to the couch. "Sit."

"Yes, sir." Jensen sat. He perched on the edge of the couch, slightly uncomfortable. He should be kneeling, that was only proper, yet Jeff had ordered he sit, and those orders came before anything else. Can he order me to do something he doesn't want to do? Jensen wondered, knowing that was key. It didn't matter how willing or comfortable Jensen was being bound or flogged, if Jeff couldn't bring himself to give the order. Jeff needed to be the one to lead, Jensen needed to be sure he could count on him.

"So this is where you've been hiding him?" A wry voice broke into his thoughts and Jensen looked up to regard the speaker. For a moment he didn't recognize her in the red sequined dress that made her sparkle against the dimness of the lounge, the dreary blue lights. All eyes flickered to her, of course; she was the Captain.

"Captain Devine," Jensen jumped to his feet.

"At ease, soldier," she rolled her eyes. "Tell the boy to heel, Morgan."

"If you tell me who's running the ship while you're here," Jeff said and Jensen turned in shock at his teasing tone.

"You know, Neil Harris is actually a competent First Officer," she gave Jeff a glare, her shoulder tilting as she propped one hand on her hip. "We need to talk."

"Have a seat," Jeff gestured.

Jensen moved out of the way so the Captain could take his place on the couch. He looked to Jeff for direction. "Kneel," Jeff mouthed and he obeyed, kneeling next to the glass table just in front of the couch, at the Captain's side.

"Making progress I see?" she said.

"General Ferris' idea," Jeff explained. "Twenty-four hours without breaking character."

She stared at Jensen, eyes narrowing. Jensen felt like she could see right through him. "And what about you, Ackles? When can I send you both back to that hellhole?"

Jensen looked over at Jeff who nodded. "I believe as soon as we complete General Ferris' assignment we'll have a better understanding of how to proceed."

Devine snorted. "Sam sure was right about your tongue, boy."

He blinked at the use of General Ferris's first name. Jensen's mind whirled, and he wondered how the two women knew each other.

"Look, I'm not going to pull any punches. We are counting on you both to get this done. The sooner the better. I've got two Admirals and a General breathing down my neck, wanting to know why you aren't down there yet."

"Understood, Captain," Jeff said softly. "How much of a priority is the rescue?"

At first, Jensen didn't understand the question; he thought the rescue was the priority. Devine leveled a look at Morgan, she looked almost resigned.

"You know they care more about the technology than two lost soldiers. Not when we're losing more every day defending the border planets. I'm not going to tell you to choose, Morgan. You do this right, we'll get both - our men back and enough goodwill with 328 to get something shiny to show the Senators." Her shoulders dropped and she rubbed her forehead tiredly. "I passed up retirement for this?"

Jeff laughed softly, the smile not touching his eyes. "We'll get the job done."

"I know you will." She patted Jeff's shoulder. "And you." The Captain touched Jensen's chin, forcing him to meet her eyes. "Yes. I think you will do just nicely."

Jensen got a flash of something in her dark eyes, a bit of knowing. Now he knew exactly who had called in the Sex Corps. He wondered if she played, but even if she did, regulations kept a Captain squarely with her ship. And this entire Reclamation Project belonged to Morgan. For the first time Jensen realized the heaviness of the responsibility that weighed on his temporary master's shoulders. Despite having to learn a whole new way of thinking, Morgan handled it well, probably being one of those rare men who thrived the more he was given. He put that insight aside for later, perhaps he'd need it once they were down there.

"Now excuse me, boys. I have my own form of stress relief." She nodded towards the stage and took off, leaving Jensen staring at her open-mouthed.

Jeff's hand brushed the back of his neck, a soft touch against the very top of the collar. Jensen shut his mouth and fought to keep from shivering. "She's not quite what you expected?"

"No, sir," Jensen said. She wasn't even like when they were first introduced, shortly after Jensen boarded the ship.

"She'll sing a song or two before the band goes on. Captain's prerogative." He could hear the smirk in Jeff's voice. "Before it gets too crowded, go up to the bar and get us drinks."

"Anything specific?" Jensen turned, one hand on the glass table. "Or should I surprise you, sir?"

Jeff slipped his hand along the edge of Jensen's jaw, a nonverbal response to the flirting, the approval one would give a beloved pet. "Siennan wine for us both, I think. And order a plate of appetizers."

Siennan wine didn't have any intoxicating effects, Jensen knew and approved. Jeff was not a man to let his wits get away from him. "Yes, sir." He stood and made his way over to the bar, conscious of the stares and whispers as he moved through the crowd. More people had arrived since the Captain took the stage, possibly to show their respect, or, more likely, suck up to their boss.

Captain Devine's deep tones filled the lounge, her voice clear over the continuing hum of conversation, though the crowd that gathered just to watch her seemed to be enthralled by her song. He didn't recognize it, but Jensen hadn't been given the luxury of leave in a while, so he was out of touch with the Top 100.

"What can I get you, sugar?" A girl at the bar asked brightly as he shouldered his way past the crowd there.

Jensen placed the order and she scurried off to grab some glasses. He guessed she was one of the civilian members of the ship - a bit young, and he doubted anyone joined up to serve drinks. Maybe when he had some leisure time he could read up on the breakdown of the crew, how they managed the careful balance between military and civilian.

Someone bumped into him from behind, pinning him against the counter for a moment. Jensen grasped at the hard surface to keep his balance and turned to glare at whoever it was. He didn't recognize the group of soldiers standing there, and all were in civilian garb, so he didn't even have a clue as to their ranks.

"Pretty boy's wearing a collar."



"Hey kitty, kitty."

"I told you he was a pussy."

They laughed at their own less-than-clever wit and Jensen barely refrained from rolling his eyes. He needed to be good. They wouldn't start anything with the Captain only a few feet away, but he knew from experience they'd do whatever they could get away with. Where was the girl with the drinks? He glanced back and saw she'd been pulled aside in conversation, a very familiar blond head next to hers - Hartley. Of course.

Fuck it, he could get the drinks later. "Excuse me." He tried to go around the trio. A hand on his chest pushed him back. Jensen scowled at them. "Let me just get out of your way."

"Funny, the way Hartley tells it, you love sticking your dick where it doesn't belong."
On the stage the Captain was taking her final bows and introducing the band to follow. The noise level ratcheted up, and they closed in on Jensen, keeping him pinned there.

"Funny," he said, "I don't recall Hartley ever being that familiar with my dick. I bet that's why he's so cranky."

"Shut up, Scut."

"You know, I bet the Captain would be shocked at what passes for wit these days," Jensen raised an eyebrow. "What is your problem, anyway? That I fuck for a living or that I'm fucking Morgan?"

"You think you're better than us, don't you?" The taller one whispered, he was broad around the shoulders and had a scar bisecting his upper lip, it gave him the appearance of perpetually snarling.

"They're torturing Johnson and Tappen down there and they're sending you to save them? Bullshit." Skinny guy said, nearly spitting his words at Jensen.

"Well, seeing as how First Lieutenant Ackles outranks all three of you and has ten years of experience in the field," Jeff's drawling voice could clearly be heard from behind the trio. "I think he's a damn good choice for the mission."

Skinny boy's face went white and Jensen bit his lip to keep from grinning in glee. They moved apart, letting Jeff in the circle. Even in his civilian clothing, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, Jeff looked damn intimidating, his eyes flashing at the three.

"Ensign Jones. Ensign Mancini. Ensign Leaver." Jeff made eye-contact with all three of them, making it clear he knew who each of them were, and, Jensen thought, that he wasn't going to forget any time soon. "Do I need to have a talk with your commanding officer about respecting all members of the service?"

"No, sir!" they replied, nearly in unison.

"Then I'd better not hear a whisper about any of you harassing Lt. Ackles again. Clear? Dismissed."

Jensen stayed where he was, looking up as Jeff caused the three to scatter, tails between their legs. His heart beat wildly in his chest at Jeff's display. He'd cut them to the core, protected Jensen without once making Jensen seem weak. "Sir?"

"Let's get out of here," Jeff motioned towards the door. "I think I'd rather have a drink in my own quarters right now."

"Yes, sir."

***

The door had barely slid shut behind Jeff before Jensen had stripped out of his clothes and dropped to the floor, kneeling in that graceful pose, hands caught behind his neck, back arched to display his pink nipples and perfect chest. His cock curved up towards his belly, thickening slowly. Jeff circled Jensen, as if inspecting him, giving the anger time to settle. Yes, the ensigns had been assholes, but part of Jeff felt irrational rage at Jensen himself.

"Did you find it necessary to talk back? How did you expect them to react if you kept goading them?" Jeff found himself speaking before he thought, his voice bitten out quick and deep.

"They were nothing I couldn't handle. I'm used to it...sir," Jensen protested, keeping his eyes lowered.

Jeff stopped right in front of him. "This is my ship. You will let me handle it. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Jensen said, swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, causing the collar to shift. His long eyelashes fluttered over his cheeks.

Jeff bent and hooked a finger in the collar, pulling it tight around Jensen's neck and forcing the other man's head up. For the moment, until tomorrow, Jensen belonged to him. His to protect, to keep from harm, his to use for pleasure, his to hurt, if he so chose. Jeff suddenly wanted to hurt Jensen, to mark that pale skin, show everyone to whom he belonged. He remembered Jensen trying to beg earlier, ass in the air, so desperate for his orgasm. He wanted Jensen to really beg, not as part of his persona in bed, but because without Jeff's approval, he could do nothing, was nothing.

Maybe this morning he would have quashed the notion, pushed it aside. He'd never treat a lover like that, never push and push for the sake of pushing. But Jensen wasn't his lover. Jeff needed to be his master, and he rode the high of the rush that filled him as he rescued the boy from those three in the lounge. Jensen was his and Jeff would remind him of that.
"How many people have owned this body?" Jeff murmured, tilting Jensen's head to the side, inspecting the smattering of freckles over pale skin. "How many men have you given yourself to?"

"I don't know...sir," Jensen's voice went up on the end as Jeff released the collar to grab his hair, tilting Jensen's head far back, exposing his throat.

"Bullshit. I bet you've got a little tally, a file somewhere perfectly neat, the name of each man who's fucked you, and a little notation when you didn't even know the name."

Jensen didn't answer, and Jeff didn't expect him to. If he was the master here, he intended to rule.

"You've let all of them touch your body. You've been on your knees for them. How many of them did you let inside here, huh?" Jeff touched Jensen's forehead with his free hand, sliding down his skin, catching on the collar, before resting on the center of his chest, feeling the heart beat loudly beneath the flesh.

"You can't, you can't make me," Jensen blurted, before snapping his jaw shut with a hard click as his teeth slammed together.

For once, a non-programmed response. "Maybe I'll be the judge of what I can or can't do."

Jeff let go, all but throwing Jensen back down, watching as he had to catch himself with his arms or collapse to the floor. No signals from those delicate fingers, just splayed straight on the rug, no sign to stop. No encouragement either, other than the flushed erection caught against one thigh. Jensen had told him he could take whatever Jeff could dish out, and now he was going to take Ackles at his word.

The desire rose in Jeff, with a fierceness that surprised him, to hurt Jensen. He wanted to hit him, to bend him over his lap until his ass was shiny red from Jeff's hand. And he could have that, have all of it. Jeff pulled off his shirt and shucked his pants before perching on the edge of the bed. He wanted to feel all of this, Jensen's skin against his, his cock over Jeff's thighs.

"Bring me a paddle from your bag," Jeff said. He sat and watched as Jensen scrambled on all fours to the duffel on the side of the bed, searching through the toys for the one Jeff demanded. It had gone from completely organized to scattered after Jeff had gone through it, so it took a moment for Jensen to emerge with the smooth wooden object. He turned and handed it to Jeff, handle first. Jeff took it, hefting it in his hand to get the weight of it, heavy enough to cause a good smack, but not so heavy as to tire his arm. He remembered the moment Jensen had handed him the leather collar, the only bit of clothing he wore now, the object that marked him as belonging to Jeff.

Jeff held out the paddle. "Kiss it," he demanded.

Jensen's eyes were wide and a deep blush filled his cheeks, rising from his chest, pink nipples now flushed and pointed. His cock dripped, smears of pre-come staining his belly. It looked almost painful as he crawled closer, leaning forward to purse his lips and gently kiss the wood with reverence.

Jeff stopped him from moving away, grasping Jensen by the chin and tilting his face up. He took a kiss for himself, biting at those plump lips before pulling away, wanting to see them swollen for him. Jensen tasted like freedom, desire and plums, sweet and sour and everything Jeff ever wanted. He pushed him away. "Over my lap," he said. "One hand may touch the floor or the bed for balance."

Jensen nodded and moved to comply, his body still graceful as he struggled to fit himself over Jeff's lap, his cock brushing Jeff's thighs, ass in the air as he stood on his toes, one hand on the carpet as Jeff had commanded. Jeff took the other hand and bent it behind Jensen, holding it tight against his back. Jensen made a sound at the back of his throat, but made no other comment, his breath coming in faster and faster gasps.

Jeff put the paddle beside him on the bed for a moment, and slowly stroked along Jensen's back, down between the crease of his ass, teasing at the soft skin of his balls. "You will not come from this," Jeff hissed, pinching at the sensitive skin, causing Jensen to shriek. He lifted his hand and came down hard on one pale buttock, gratified to see the red handprint appear, hoping it stung as much as the palm of his hand. Jeff rubbed the mark, feeling the warmth from his strike.

But he didn't want to tire out before Jensen. Jeff picked up the paddle, curling his fingers around the handle. He drew up, holding the paddle in mid air for a moment, building the tension in his arm. He waited the space of a heartbeat, till he could hear Jensen's breath catch before swinging down, the sharp smack harsher and louder in the stillness than his hand had been. Easily, he raised it again, coming down even harder on the opposite buttock.

Jensen writhed over his lap, his ass lowering at each strike, as if trying to get away from the paddle. He drove his groin against Jeff's, the weight of his erection solid and unfailing, no matter how many times Jeff let the paddle fall. Jeff lost count of how many times, guessing by the dark red blooming across the formerly pale skin how long this had gone on. He would not let up, entranced by the movements of the boy on his lap, who tried to twist away and yet gasped and moaned at each smack.

"Beg me," Jeff hissed. "Beg me to stop."

"Please!" Jensen sobbed, his voice cracked and muffled. "Please, stop. Please."

Jeff let the paddle fall once more. "I don't believe you. Make me believe you, boy."

He could hear the hitch of breath, the struggle as Jensen attempted to gain control of himself. Finally, he gave up, collapsing against Jeff's legs, all the fight gone out of his limbs as his whispered, "Please, sir."

Blood pounded in Jeff's ears. For the first time he realized that softly spoken "sir" meant "master," and referred to a relationship far more intimate than commander and subordinate. He dropped the paddle and let his fingers smooth over the heated skin. If he wanted to keep going, keep hitting until that fragile skin broke, Jensen would let him, would give him everything he asked for and then some.

Jeff released his hold on Jensen's arm and gently rolled him off of his lap, back onto his knees. He caught his fingers in Jensen's hair, forcing their eyes to meet - Jensen's red-rimmed and heavy with the tears that streaked down his face. Jensen's breath came in little gasps and hiccups and he winced as he sat back on his knees.

"So good," Jeff praised. He sat back, spreading his legs and letting his hand fall on his dick, hard and leaking. He watched as Jensen eyed his movements, fingers twitching on his thighs. "Suck me."

Jensen leaned forward, clasping his hands behind his back, and took just the head of Jeff's cock in his mouth, those perfect lips stretched around his thickness. He didn't pose, didn't flirt or use any of those tricks he'd been using all day. No, Jensen just slid down, taking Jeff's dick deep into his mouth, till his lips met the base, kissing Jeff's balls.

Jeff bit his lip attempting to hold it in, but fuck it, Jensen was too good at this. He groaned, fisting his hands in the tousled sheets, just feeling as Jensen licked and suckled at him, twirling his tongue around that sensitive part just under the head. Jeff felt his orgasm building, the entire night had been far far too much, and he knew he couldn't last. Still, he had presence of mind enough to grasp Jensen's head and pull him away just as he came, white stripes of come splattering over that too pretty face, dripping off those pink lips and dribbling down that flushed and heaving chest.

With one finger Jeff smeared the fluid over Jensen's lips, pushing in just the very tip to give a taste. He ran a thumb under the collar, fascinated once again by the skin hidden there. Jensen wore his mark on his entire body now, subdued and waiting for Jeff's next move. "Go clean up," Jeff said, pulling away. "And don't you dare come in the head. I'll know."

Without a whimper or a complaint, Jensen obeyed, crawling to the bathroom, but keeping the door open behind him. Jeff grinned when Jensen couldn't see, feeling the high from his orgasm. God, they were right, absolute power could corrupt. He wiped himself down with his shirt before he started fiddling through Jensen's bag of toys. Their night together wasn't over yet, and Jeff had a few tricks still up his sleeve.

When Jensen emerged from the shower, hair damp and skin flushed and warm from the water, Jeff ordered him on the bed, ass in the air. With a soft "Yes, sir," Jensen moved into place, his dick still heavy between his legs.

"If you're good, you might get to come," Jeff told him just before slipping the lubricated plug inside. "You're gonna sleep with that in you," he said, working the rubber length between the tightly clenched checks, "so when I want you, I can just turn you over and fuck you, and you'll be wet and open for me."

Jensen shivered at his words, making a sound deep in his throat. Jeff fitted them together, Jensen's back to his chest, and buried his face against the leather of the collar, biting and sucking a mark just under Jensen's jaw. "Mine," he hissed, pulling the other man closer and twining their legs together.

"Yes," Jensen whispered.

Jeff ordered the lights off and let himself drift off into sleep. At least this time he knew Jensen would still be there when he woke, still mandated to be Jeff's slave for a few more hours at least. He smiled and clutched him a bit closer.

He woke a little bit later, the digital light on his terminal showed 0400, still a good few hours before even he would think about waking up. Jeff already had morning wood nestled in the small of Jensen's back. "Lights, ten percent," he whispered, low enough that the computer would pick it up, but not loud enough to wake Jensen, who still slumbered on. He wanted just enough to see by, the shadows playing on the soft planes of Jensen's body.

The plug slipped out with merely a twist of his wrist; Jeff made sure to keep it in reach. Then he took Jensen's leg by the back of the knee and lifted it, exposing that slightly swollen hole. Jeff braced himself against the bed, but found it so easy to slip into that stretched opening, still slick, always hot. A moan escaped as he eased inside, clenched so tightly by Jensen's body.

"Fuck," Jensen hissed, coming awake with a start. Jeff tightened his hold on Jensen's leg, keeping it in place. He reached out and clamped his other hand over the kid's mouth.

"Quiet," he whispered. "If you can keep quiet, I'll let you come. Understand?"

He could feel Jensen all but vibrating beneath his fingers, could hear his throat working to swallow, his breathing speed up. Finally, he just nodded and Jeff let go. He needed that hand to keep his balance as he hiked Jensen's leg up higher, and began to pound into that tight, sweet ass.

Sweat slicked between them, Jeff keeping his movements slow, going from slamming his hips to rolling them slowly, drawing this out. Jensen gasped, but never moaned, never cried out. "So good, boy," Jeff moaned, caught up in the tightness. "Touch yourself, lemme see you."

To his credit, Jensen didn't make a noise at this prompting. He merely slid one hand down around his cock and stroked himself in time with Jeff's thrusts. He clenched his eyes shut tight and bit into that lovely, plumped lip, so hard Jeff worried Jensen would draw blood. "Come, boy, I wanna feel it."

Jensen let out a coughing gasp, not quite a sound, but Jeff figured no man could hold out as long as he had, as he came, milking Jeff's cock with his inner muscles. Jeff gripped Jensen tight and knew he left marks as he followed, his vision whiting out for a moment. He tucked his forehead against Jensen's neck, taking a deep breath to get himself under control. Then he reached for the plug and make sure to insert it as soon as he pulled his dick out.

At the whimpering sound Jensen made, Jeff chuckled. He thumbed the handle of the plug. "I like the idea of you keeping me inside."

"Fuck," Jensen said again.

"In the morning," Jeff said, shifting onto his back with a grin

He ended up rolling out of bed at around 0700, leaving Jensen to sleep some more while hitting the shower. While under the spray he entertained the idea of having Jensen in here with him under the pounding waves of water. He pictured Jensen on his knees, his hair plastered to his head, the rivulets of water running down his back, dripping down his chest. There was no reason he couldn't, Jeff thought, no reason he couldn't demand Jensen do anything at all.

Except his own will. Jeff rinsed himself off, shaking the shampoo out of his hair. He needed to remember this was a responsibility, that Jensen was his responsibility. No one else would get to hurt him, and in return, Jeff needed to be the leader, needed to keep control, to provide discipline. For the first time, he realized, he just might have gotten it.

When he emerged from the shower, it was to find Jensen kneeling upright on the bed, his bruised ass avoiding any pressure, the black leather collar held tight in one hand. "I think you're ready," Jensen said. "We don't need the rest of the 24 hours. We should tell the Captain."

Jeff nodded. "I think you're right."
***

Jensen pulled at the collar of his jumpsuit, surprised at how quickly he had gotten used to being naked at Jeff's side. Though that was probably for the best, considering they'd be leaving for 328 first thing tomorrow morning, it disquieted him. He leaned forward in the guise of adding something to his notes, but really to take a look at Jeff, who sat next to him in the conference room for this meeting.

After taking off the collar this morning, ending their practice session a good eight hours early, Jensen had expected things to get awkward. There he had knelt, naked on Jeff's bed, but no longer bound to obey everything the man ordered. Surely there would be some difficulty in relating to each other after all that. When Jeff had merely nodded and agreed with him, Jensen had let out a deep breath, relieved he hadn't misread the situation. He had moved to climb out the bed, wincing at the pain in his sore ass.

"Easy," Jeff had caught his arm. "Is there anything I can do?" His brow furrowed.

Jensen had wondered if Jeff realized how expressive his eyes were, how Jensen could read the concern in that dark gaze. "I have a cream that numbs and heals."

"Let's get it on you then."

Stunned, Jensen had let Jeff grab the tube and lay face down on the bed while Jeff removed the plug and smoothed the white gel on abused skin. Jeff had surprised him, obviously he'd taken Jensen's previous lessons about mastery to heart and had found something inside himself that responded to the situation, to Jensen's submissiveness. If he could maintain that on 328, Jensen knew they'd succeed in fooling the people on the planet that they were an actual couple.

Here in the conference room, as he stared at Jeff out of the corner of his eye, Jensen knew it wouldn't necessarily be a lie; they'd shared too much intimacy over too short a time to be unaffected. He sat back, letting his stylus drop to the table. Jensen respected Morgan, hell, he actually liked the man, and he was no slouch in the bedroom either. It wouldn't be hard to pretend he felt more - that was his specialty after all.

"Have you selected the members of this mission, Commander?" Dr. Cohan asked, tapping her stylus against the table. Jensen had met her only briefly, in that conference room full of people involved with the first mission, and had barely spared her a glance then, she seemed too contained, too controlled. She was in charge of the civilian members of the project, a combination of scientists, anthropologists and linguists necessary outside of members of the military.

"Not yet," Jeff answered. "I've been a bit busy attempting to get this aspect of it down."

"With all due respect," Cohan said, with just a purse to her lips that told Jensen she didn't mean that phrase at all, "Do you honestly think pretending to capitulate to their demands will actually help at all?"

"If not, then what exactly do you suggest, doctor?" Jeff asked, and by now Jensen could tell when he was keeping a tight rein on his temper.

"My recommendations were for a strictly diplomatic team with expertise in psychology..."

"So you think they're something wrong with them?" Jensen blurted. "That they're sick in some way for setting up their society like this?"

She clicked her jaw shut, all but glaring at him from across the room. "Psychology isn't necessarily about curing the ill, but understanding how others think. We can debate the merits of the lifestyle at another time. What I'm concerned about is retrieving our people. One of whom, if you don't know, is one of mine."

"From my review of the reports," Jensen said. "They insisted on Commander Morgan specifically proving himself before any further communication. I don't see how a diplomatic team would make any difference if they didn't meet that request."

Before Cohan could respond, the Captain held up one hand. "Enough arguing, Doctor. I purposely requested Lt. Ackles' expertise. We can be sure to provide plenty of diplomatic experts in Morgan's selected team as well."

"Well if you insist on continuing with this course of action," Cohan began, picking up her tablet and clicking a few buttons, "I have several of my personnel I strongly recommend you take with you on the return mission."

Jensen picked up his tablet to pick up the files she sent, the images of each individual flashing on screen along with Cohan's notes about their specific area. He didn't know any of them, but looking at the picture of a smiling Dr. Moranski got him thinking. "Dr. Cohan, you weren't part of the team that went to 328, correct?"

She made a frustrated snort at him. "No. If you mean to imply..."

"I'm not implying anything," Jensen interrupted, absently. He opened up the file for the original mission roster on his tablet, this time enabling it to show the images of each person as he paged through the files. "What set apart Johnson and Tappen from the rest of the group inside the city? One was a soldier, the other a civilian. One had blond hair, the other dark. Johnson's a good ten years older than Tappen. Why did they expect Commander Morgan to be master to them both?"

Jeff cleared his throat. "That's a good question, Lt, and there are several psychologists and anthropologists working on it..."

"I think the more important question is, why wasn't anyone else taken? Why were the rest of your crew not seen as potential submissives?"

"I take if you have an idea?" The captain said dryly.

Jensen looked up from his tablet. "Maybe. It occurred to me when Dr. Cohan sent the pictures of her personnel. Clearly physical appearance is important in this culture, based on the very least on the report Dr. Shanks gave." He tapped the screen. "I'm trained to notice and observe things like that. Didn't anyone notice that only Tappen and Johnson had blue eyes?"

"Well, fuck me," Jeff murmured under his breath and Jensen bit his lip to keep from erupting into a grin.

"You don't honestly believe it's that simple?" Cohan asked, staring at the images projected on her tablet.

"That's why I asked if you were on planet. Your eyes are blue," Jensen added.

"Your eyes aren't," Jeff suddenly snapped, sitting upright in his chair.

Jensen frowned. "They're close enough, I think. No one else on your mission had green eyes, so we can't be sure."

"Ackles, don't even tell me we have something else to worry about!" Devine snapped.

"I just think it's prudent to make sure no one else on the return mission has blue eyes. Just in case I'm right," Jensen insisted.

Cohan heaved an exaggerated sigh. "I'll need to reevaluate my choices then."

"Give me five of your people," Morgan said. "Tell them to come to the mission briefing at 1400. I will select the other fifteen myself."

Cohan looked over at the captain for confirmation. When Devine merely nodded, Cohan stood pushing her chair back. "If this isn't a complete disaster it'll be a miracle."

"Thank you for your faith in me, Doctor," Jeff replied. He didn't look up as she stormed out of the room.

"It's a damn good thing she isn't going on the planet with you," Devine said, pushing back to stand herself. "Although an evil part of me would love to see what she'd do if the natives pegged her for a Sub."

Jensen had a quick mental image of Cohan on her knees, collared and in a tight leather harness, a leash leading from the front. She'd make a pretty picture and a good Dom might pull some nice responses out of her, especially with that mouth. He came back to attention when Jeff cleared his throat. Hmm, Jensen wondered what mental image appeared for Morgan?

"We'll pick the remaining fifteen and I'll message them all to be here at 1400," Morgan told Devine.

"Pick wisely, Commander."

"Yes, sir."

She nodded at Jensen on her way out. He stood and paced the conference room, thinking about the possibilities. If eye-color was how the people on 328 signified dominance, then what would his own green eyes denote? Should he have them altered before the mission? Would green-eyes be considered switches?

Jeff plugged away at his tablet, and then asked absently, "Do you have any preferences?"

Jensen stilled in his pacing. "I have a request, actually."

"Done, the three of them aren't even on my roster."

For a moment Jensen wondered what the hell Jeff was talking about. Then he recalled the three ensigns who had harassed him the night before, the ones who inspired Jeff to take his role of master to the next level. He flushed at the thought, clamping down on the surge of lust that coiled in his belly. Even now, Jeff's voice, that deep rumble, would do things to Jensen, reminding him of last night, the way Jeff had commanded Jensen, playing his body to perfection.

"Not just them," he said finally. "There's a Lt. Hartley. Justin Hartley. We have history. I'd prefer it if I didn't have to count on him watching my back."

"Done," Jeff said. "Anyone else I need to worry about?"

"Can't say who he's gotten to. Don't know if you noticed, but Scuts aren't very popular."

"Thought the problem was that you all were too popular."

"Funny."

"I thought so." Jeff tilted his head to one side. "You think we can do this?"

"I know we can do this," Jensen said. "It's everyone else I have to worry about."

"Jensen," Jeff said, holding up the tablet. "Trust me to know my people. I won't select anyone who has a hint of Scut prejudice."

Jensen swallowed. "Thank you."

***

Jensen left Jeff to his task and headed towards the mess to bring back lunch for them both. It was his idea, but Jeff hadn't disagreed and just waved him off while concentrating on his files. Jensen couldn't really help him with his selections anyway, other than by saying who he didn't want. They still had plenty of work to do before the debriefing at 1400. Jeff might have become adept at his role, but they needed to talk specifically how they would play it once on 328.

"Lt. Ackles?" a soft voice called, interrupting his thoughts.

Jensen stopped and whirled, immediately on his guard. He had never seen the soldier who had called his name. She seemed young, as she stood there, one hand braced against the hull of the corridor, half-facing him, as if afraid he wouldn't speak to her. Waves of dark hair hardly seemed constrained by the bun at the back of her head and she stared up at him with huge dark eyes.

"Yes? Ah, Corporal?" He caught sight of the rank markings on the collar of her uniform.

"Gyllenhaal sir." She stepped away from the wall, coming a bit closer. "Corporal Margaret Gyllenhaal."

"Well, nice to meet you, Corporal Gyllenhaal," he said, rubbing the back of his head. Well, this was awkward. "Is there something I can help you with?"

She looked down the hall before flicking back to him. "Can we speak privately?"

Well, so much for lunch with Jeff. "Sure. I was just heading to the mess. Are you available for lunch?"

Gathering his tray along with some boxes of food to bring to Jeff when they were done, Jensen thought about how strange it was to be called sir. Most of the time Jensen worked alone, and lacked any subordinate officers to order around. He did outrank Gyllenhaal, and she insisted on the protocol, even when he said it would all right to call him Jensen. And of course, he'd been called sir in a completely different context, wielding the whip instead of bearing it. He smiled at the thought, remembering the scene fondly for a moment, stars, sometimes he missed his friends from the Academy fiercely. He made a mental note to look them up when he was on leave.

He joined Maggie, as she said her friends called her, at a table in the corner, away from everyone else in the mess. "I do have to get back to the conference room," he warned her. "Don't want to leave Commander Morgan unfed for too long."

She nodded and picked up her fork, although she didn't make a move to eat the dinner she had grabbed from the counter. "Thank you. I appreciate this."

He smiled at her, hoping to ease the nervous energy he sensed in her. Jensen was more accustomed to whispers and mocking over this kind of reaction, well, in the Corps at least. "So what can I help you with?"

"I'm from Sienna," she said. "It's been hit pretty hard recently. There's not a lot of hope to get off-planet, unless you join up. I signed up about five years ago, and I haven't regretted it for an instant..."

"But?" Jensen prodded, leaving his sandwich untouched.

"I have a younger brother. And when he went to enlist, after all the tests they put you through, they asked him to join the Sex Corps."

"Ah," Jensen sat back. "Did he accept?"

"He doesn't know what he's going to do." She put the fork down and began working on shredding her napkin. "I mean, it's four years at the Academy, all expenses paid. That's nothing to sneeze at. But at the same time, I mean, what is he getting into, really?"

Now how the hell could he answer that? Jensen took a deep breath. "It's different for everyone, depending on a person's talents and abilities. Not everyone does what I do, for example." He obviously couldn't talk about past missions, most of those were still classified. No one knew he was behind the Harris Factory disaster, and Jensen liked to keep it that way. "He has to know he'll be expected to use his body, to sleep with the enemy quite literally for the sake of the UP."

She nodded. "That's obvious, I mean everyone knows what Scuts do..."

"No, that's not true." Jensen frowned. "You can't imagine what it's like, to sleep with someone one night and have to kill them in the morning."

"I'm sorry," Gyllenhaal finally took a bite of her meal.

"Don't be, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to shock you. Honestly, Corporal, it's still being a soldier. You learned how to kill, too. You can't protect him from that, no matter what he chooses."

"I'm afraid if he says no they'll send him back to Sienna," she blurted, as if waiting the entire time to say that exact thing.

"That's certainly a possibility," Jensen said carefully. "They won't keep him if he's unwilling, or if he finds himself unable to function. I knew someone who left the Sex Corps. We called her a wash out, but they transferred her to the Space Corps and, as far as I know, she's a Lt. on a battleship. If you're honestly asking my advice, I'll tell you that trying and failing is far better than running away."

She propped her head on one hand and gave him a shrewd look, her mouth quirked. "I bet you've never failed at anything you've tried."

Jensen laughed. "Oh, I've failed at plenty of things." He watched as she continued to eat, as if his words had loosened the worry enough so she could eat. "Look, I have a friend who's been doing some work with recruits. Captain Sophia Bush. I'll mention your brother to her, tell her to look out for him."

"Thank you, sir!" her eyes brightened and she finally truly smiled. Jensen couldn't help but smile back.

***

Jeff didn't look up from his tablet as Jensen came back into the conference room. "Did you go back to Earth to get lunch?" He grumbled.

"No," Jensen dropped one of the take out boxes on the table and Jeff reached for it. Funny how his hunger snuck up on him. "I ended up having lunch with a Corporal."

"Oh?" Jeff finally looked up from his files. Jensen had sat on the table, kicking his legs and biting his lips, looking thoughtful.

"Gyllenhaal. Margaret. Do you know her? Dark hair, big brown eyes."

Jeff had to think about it for a moment. He didn't know everyone on ship, with the size of the Mercury, it was kind of impossible to. However, he did try to get to know as much of the staff as he could. "She's a technician, isn't she?" He punched the name into his tablet and called up her image. "Yes. She worked on the shuttle when we got back from 328 the first time."

"Do you think she's suitable for the mission?"

"Well she's got the eye color," Jeff frowned. "We could use a tech, actually. She caught your eye?"

"Something like that," Jensen admitted, looking down at his fingers dancing on his knee.

Jeff wasn't sure what to expect, Jensen didn't seem any different after their time together. Of course, Jensen entered a role when he wore the collar, when he became Jeff's submissive. That persona hardly scratched the surface of who Jensen Ackles was, and Jeff didn't know if he 'd ever get to the bottom of that. He found he wanted to, he wanted to understand this young man, learn what drove him, how Jensen could use his body in such a way and still stay so strong.

"I'll put her on the list for the briefing then."

"Thank you," Jensen said. "Now finish your sandwich before you starve."

"Yes sir," Jeff laughed, putting his stylus down and picking up the food.

Jensen kicked his legs with a nervous energy. "Now that we've decided to go, I just want to get down there, you know."

"We do actually need to plan a little bit more," Jeff said between bites.

"Oh, I know. I bet Cohan's diplomats will have plenty to say about what they want to happen."

"I meant," Jeff started. "Between us. The Queen wanted me to prove my mastery. Prove myself worthy of the two men she took. How are we going to play that?"

Jensen nodded. "We do have a few kinks to work out. If you can keep up...what you did last night? I don't think we'll have any problems. When you were on 328...how did the Subs seem?" He gestured, as if trying to describe what he meant. "Where they frightened? Grateful? Taken care of? Too thin?"

Jensen had seen what little footage they'd taken from the planet, so he wanted Jeff's opinion here. Jeff thought back to Misha, the slave they offended, and the man kneeling at the feet of the Queen with light blue eyes that seemed to stare right through Jeff, and how he gazed up at his lady. "They seemed happy. But alien, at the same time."

"You didn't understand them," Jensen supplied.

"I still don't," Jeff said.

"I think you get more than you know." Jensen picked up his tablet. "Send me the supply list, I can double check that while you're running through personnel."

"Make sure we bring plenty of lube."

"Mmm," Jensen agreed. "Lube and leather pants. That reminds me, I've booked us both appointments with Medical after the briefing. SOP for Scut-work."

"As long as I'm not the one in leather pants." Jeff grinned at the sound of Jensen's laughter.

***

Jeff watched as they all filed in - fourteen of them from the soldiers officially attached to the Reclamation Project, the five Cohan had recommended and the young woman Jensen had eaten lunch with. He studied her and watched as she moved with a spring in her step Despite being the lowest ranked soldier in the room, she didn't seem cowed, if anything, she seemed excited, something he hadn't seen in his own people in a while. Hell, they were visiting planets that had been cut off from civilization for over 300 years, they should be excited! When the hell had this job stopped being fascinating?

Who was he kidding? Jeff hadn't taken any pleasure in his work since Katie...and he knew he wasn't the only one touched by the constant battles with the Confederation. Everyone he knew had lost someone, a family member, or a soldier in arms. Even Jensen, he thought, watching as Ackles sat apart from everyone, his faced closed off and composed, no sign of the man who shared Jeff's bed last night, the uninhibited submissive who took everything Jeff threw at him.

Gyllenhaal took the seat next to Ackles, which caused Jensen to look at her in surprise, a faint blush staining his cheeks. Good, Jeff thought, at least someone on the team wouldn't be afraid of socializing with the Scut. He was definitely going to have to give the 'we are a team' speech. And made sure he knocked it into their heads - that went for everyone, Scut, officer or technician.

Jeff met the eyes of everyone in the room, one at a time, his gaze quieting the whispers and shuffling. "Thank you all for being so prompt," he began. Jeff clicked on the recorder, which would take the official meeting minutes. He liked having the option to click it off if he needed to.

"I know you chuckleheads all know each other," he waved towards the Reclamation half of the room. "But I want you to go around and introduce yourselves for the benefit of Lt. Ackles and Corporal Gyllenhaal. A short statement about what it is exactly you do would be good. I'll start. Commander Jeffrey Dean Morgan, and I run the operation. Next?"

They moved quickly through his group, hitting a slight snag with the civilians who couldn't deliver a 'short' statement to save their lives. And Cohan had seeded that pool heavily with diplomats and experts in politics, with one lone anthropologist. Damn it, they needed Johnson back. Then the wave of introductions got to the new recruits.
Gyllenhaal stood, like the others had. "Corporal Maggie Gyllenhall. I fix things." She flashed a grin at Jeff as she said it before sitting back down.

Jensen rose to his feet and Jeff crossed his pinkie toe that the kid would not mouth off about his job. Ackles smiled slow and easy and said, "Lt. Jensen Ackles. I'm sure you've all heard what it is I do," and sat back down.

Finally, they could get started.

"Most of you were on the original mission to 328," Jeff started. He resisted the temptation to stand and pace as he spoke. He wanted to be out there, not sitting here in this conference room. Restlessness thrummed under his skin, just as Jensen had complained of earlier; Jeff needed to be down there doing his job. "For those of you who weren't, you were all forwarded copies of the mission report, and I expect you to be familiar with it before we leave tomorrow."

Jeff clicked his stylus on his tablet, pulling up the short notes he had written up. "I do want to give you a brief understanding of the situation." He briefly detailed the culture of those they encountered on the planet, the remnants of the human colonization project that had been trapped out here when the Vespucci wormhole collapsed. The alien technology they had discovered must have been what enabled them to not only survive, but prosper on 328, the largest population of any survivors encountered thus far. However, Jeff cautioned them, their entire society appeared to be based around sex.

"That's why Lt. Ackles was brought in," Jeff explained, giving a nod towards Jensen. "As an expert in these matters."

"Like Dr. Cortese when we went to 511," Lt. Commander Brown said, jostling Lt. Whitfield on his right.

"Genevieve," Whitfield murmured under his breath, his lips curved into a smile.

"Just as long as we don't got to learn old French again," Brown said.

Privately Jeff agreed with him. The mission to 511 had been made that much harder due to the language barrier. Dr. Cortese did her best, but she was only one woman, and hardly enough of her to go around to speak for the entire team. Those who could pick up the language quickly did so, but it was still slow going. Jeff and his team had spent nearly six months there before hammering out an agreement on diplomatic relations between 511 and the UP. It was one of their successes, unlike the planets they found dead and empty, nothing left but husks of space ships long outdated.

"Actually," Ackles said, clearing his throat and sitting forward, folding his hands on the conference table. "It is like learning a new language. The society on 328 is very formal, and structured, even if it is based on sexual relationships."

"And that's the other thing," Jeff interrupted. "Jensen will be" He nearly said "going undercover" before realizing the play on words and rapidly revised his sentence, "posing as my Sub for the duration of the mission while we're on planet."

"To fit in?" Lt. Sampson asked. She had not been on the original mission.

"You're aware two of our people were taken prisoner?" Jeff reminded her. "The stipulation of our return was that I do so and prove myself equal to one of their Masters."

"And to be a Master you need a Sub," one of Cohan's people said. Jeff had to look at his tablet to get her name - Sasha Barrese. She stood out among the military women at the table, with her dark hair loose around her shoulders, and wearing civilian clothing, a pale gauzy blouse, instead of the jumpsuit that even the other civilians adopted once on board. Jeff couldn't decide if she was going to be trouble or not, and he hoped Jensen was right about eye-color and not attractiveness, because otherwise he would fear for her freedom.

Jeff had debated to himself whether or not he needed to give this lecture, whether this team needed it or not. But he decided it had to be said, at least once, before they got down there. "Lt. Ackles role is a very important one. It's crucial that the natives believe he is actually my Sub. But what's even more important is your behavior towards him."

"We have to treat him like one of those slaves too?" Brown asked.

"They used the term Subs for submissives on 328," Jensen said softly. "According to the report. By saying slave you'd only insult them."

"You follow the example of the others on 328," Jeff said. "Since he will be my primary responsibility, you aren't expected to give him orders or engage him in any way without my permission. However, I want to make it clear to all of you that despite the trappings he will need to take on, Lt. Ackles is still a soldier and for this mission a member of the team and I expect you all to treat him with the respect he deserves, is that clear?"

A chorus of yessirs echoed around the table, with the civilians nodding and Gyllenhaal flushing next to Ackles. He wondered how Jensen how found her, what drew him towards this young woman who had never gone on a planetside mission before. Maybe Jensen would tell him more later, in the meantime, Jeff attempted to squash his curiosity. He didn't even consider it might be jealousy.

With that out of the way, they could continue with the rest of the briefing, and Jeff assigned duties and tasks that needed to be complete before tomorrow. Cohan's people didn't give him any arguments, which only worried him all the more, because he knew the arguments would come once the shuttle touched land. He made a mental note to sic Sergeant Massee on them; that guy could talk a fly into hopping into a frog's mouth.

The meeting broke up after Jeff finished outlining the tasks, the related groups banding together to discuss their roles. Sampson had come to his side to ask a question, when Jeff felt a touch on his arm. He looked up at Jensen. "Remember, Medical at 1700."

"I'll see you there," Jeff waved him off.

However, by the time he made it through all the questions and little details he had to deal with personally, Jeff found himself running late as he headed towards the Sickbay. He'd been on the lashing end of the doc's tongue more than once, so he winced at the thought and hurried through the corridors. Damn ship, sometimes it was too damn big.

Jeff saw Jensen as soon as he entered, sitting there on one of the beds, shirtless and kicking at the paper blanket covering his legs and privates. "Careful, you'll end up giving the nurses quite the show."

Jensen looked up and laughed, tiny wrinkles appearing around his eyes. Huh, Jeff had never noticed those before. "Wouldn't be the first time," he said.

"Commander Morgan, good of you to join us," Dr. McGillion said with a raise of his eyebrow.

"Sorry about that, briefing ran late," Jeff shrugged. Why did the doc always make him feel about five inches tall?

"It's fine," Jensen waved him off. "We're done with my basic, but we need to decide on the encoding. Piercing or tattoo?"

"Excuse me?" Jeff blinked.

McGillion pulled forward a cart with the materials on it, Jeff recognized the tatt gun, and the tiny silver ring attached to what must be a piercing gun. "All Scuts are tagged when they enter the field, either with a piercing or a tattoo."

"They can remove it later," Jensen explained his unblemished skin, gesturing towards his bare torso. Jeff bent his fingers into fists to keep from touching, unable to conceive of that flesh not belonging to him.

"Both are encoded in different ways with information, should the Scut ever go missing." The doctor continued his explanation.

"I just wanted to ask your preference, and see what was more common on 328, if you remember."

Jeff thought about it, tried to remember the glimpses he got of the Queen's Sub, and the others he had encountered in the streets, though at the time he had politely averted his eyes from the naked slaves.

"I think piercings were more common. I remember more of those anyway."

Jensen nodded. He held out his arms, "Any preference for where?"

It took Jeff a moment to realize Jensen meant where he should be pierced. "Um," he stalled for time. Jeff stepped back and considered, deciding to take the question as honest, and not Jensen just flirting with him. He was tempted towards the nipple, but he felt you really couldn't just pierce one nipple, it would be asymmetrical. Jeff's gaze wandered down past those perky pink nipples to the fine hair growing up towards Jensen's navel in his flat belly. "Navel?"

"Huh, haven't had that done before," Jensen looked down. "All right, we'll do that then."

"Ok. Lie flat on the table," the doctor ordered.

"Morgan," Jensen said, looking up at the ceiling.

"Yeah?" Jeff moved to the other side, so he could meet Jensen's eyes and stay out of the way of the doc. He noticed Jensen swallow and bite his lips, and remembered Jensen telling him he had a problem with blood. Could he be scared? "Hey," Jeff said, touching his shoulder. "Doc knows what he's doing."

"This really isn't as bad as the tongue piercing," Jensen said with a laugh. "I just can't look at it while he does it."

Jeff shuddered at the thought of a hunk of metal splitting his tongue. Ouch. He looked over and instead of the simple piercing gun he expected, caught sight of the doctor and a long needle. Jeff turned back to Jensen. "So, the debriefing went well, right?"

"I think so, you have a good," Jensen caught his breath, and let out a small whimper. The sound went straight to Jeff's dick. "team," he continued.

"Just need to run the skin sealer over you and you'll be good to go," the doc told Jensen, who kept looking at the ceiling.

"Thanks for staying," Jensen said, almost too soft for Jeff to hear.

Jeff didn't say anything, just looked down to the piercing, a tiny bit of silver in Jensen's belly, light glinting off the gem in the center. He wondered what it would feel like when he ran his tongue over it, if he pinned Jensen to the bed and made him squirm.

"All done." McGillian stepped back and placed the skin sealer back on the cart.

Jensen pushed himself up. "Thanks."

"Your turn, Commander Morgan. We need to do a basic physical before you go, and give you the standard Scut set of injections."

Jeff groaned. "I just got checked out when we got back from 328."

"So you should have no trouble remembering how this works."

Jensen laughed. He hopped off the bed, holding the paper sheet around his waist. "Good luck, Morgan. Catch you later."

Jeff grumbled in his general direction and concentrated on willing down his erection. There were just some things he didn't want to share with the doc.

***

Forehead throbbing, Jeff finally put down his stylus and tablet, standing to stretch his legs. The last bits of the dinner he had grabbed on the way back to his quarters sat on his desk, the smell turning his stomach. Jeff had eaten absently, mind too focused on checking and double-checking that all was in order for the mission tomorrow. He made a mental note to comm down to supply to make sure everything got delivered nice and early. The last thing he needed was the entire team sitting and waiting for the crates to come up from stores.

Jeff popped two pain relievers, washing them down with water he cupped from the sink. He could make all the plans and preparations he wanted, but it all still came down to how well he and Jensen could perform once on planet. Despite Jensen's confidence, Jeff still wasn't sure he was doing it right. Too much depended on this, but Jeff had made a career out of following his instincts, so he might as well keep on doing it.

The door chime broke him out of his thoughts. Jeff dried his face quickly, stepping out of the head to call "Enter."

He really shouldn't have been surprised to see Jensen standing there, carrying one of the plastic half-boxes supply used when parceling out equipment on his hip. "Um, hi."

Jeff blinked at him. "Was there something we forgot to go over?"

Jensen gestured towards the bed. "Just...all my stuff is still in here."

Oh. Jeff looked over at the duffel bags, both still open with Jensen's possessions pulled out, his clothes scattered near the bed, and the various sex toys left littering the surface. They had left in a hurry that morning, in order to meet with the Captain and start making arrangements. Jeff felt his face heating with the realization that he hadn't cleaned any of it up, so intent on his mission preparations. "Sorry. Come on in."

The door slid shut behind Jensen, who set the box down. He gestured, "I didn't have one of the black expedition uniforms, or an off-planet kit, so supply squared me away. Gyllenhaal dragged me down there, otherwise I would have shown up in red tomorrow."

"She seems to have made an impression on you," Jeff said without thinking, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jensen looked up from where he knelt next to the bed, folding the clothes he had worn to the lounge last night. He shrugged with one shoulder. "She's a good kid. Worried about her brother joining the Sex Corps."

Jeff wondered how many times today he was going to be left feeling like an idiot. He sank down onto the bed, watching the lines of Jensen's uniform pull and stretch as he moved. He thought of the muscles moving beneath and shifted, spreading his legs a bit to give his growing dick some room. "Are we ready for tomorrow?" Jeff asked.

"That's your job, old man," Jensen turned and tossed a grin his way. He held up the collar he had spent the better part of yesterday wearing. "I figure we'll just use this one for tomorrow? It's comfortable and seems close enough to the ones I saw in the mission report."

Jeff nodded, remembering how it felt to place that strip of leather around Jensen's neck, to claim his ownership, running his fingers over where it cut into smooth skin, to remind himself - marked, mine. "What," he coughed and cleared his throat, "What should I call you down there?"

"You mean other than slut or boy?"

"I mean other than lieutenant." Jeff quirked a grin in response to Jensen's smile. He wanted to run his fingers over those lips, dip just inside and cover that soft skin with Jensen's own saliva. Jensen had looked amazing covered with Jeff's come, droplets glittering on his too-pretty face. Jeff felt too hot suddenly and pushed up the sleeves of his uniform.

Ackles sat back on his heels and gave Jeff an odd look, his expression clouded for a moment. "Just...call me Jensen, please."

He nodded. "Jensen." The name felt right on his tongue and he realized it was the first time he'd ever said it aloud.

Jensen pushed himself to his feet, but before he could go far, Jeff caught him by the waist, looking up at him. In response, Jensen put a hand on either side of Jeff's face, caressing his cheeks gently. "They gave you injections, at Medical?"

Jeff rolled his eyes. "That why you're thinking I'm touching you? Some aphrodisiacs in a tube?"

"Maybe." Jensen frowned, and Jeff didn't like to see that expression on his face.

Jeff snorted. "Like I didn't think you were sex on legs before? C'mon, show me the piercing..."

Jensen laughed, reaching up one hand to unzip his jumpsuit. "That explains it. I didn't know you had a thing for piercings." He unzipped to the waist, and slid the top down his arms, so he stood bare to the waist.

Jeff had let go to let Jensen undress, but now he took hold of the slim waist again, skin more than warm at his touch. "Does it hurt?"

"Doc healed it completely with the skin sealer. Go on, touch it," Jensen's voice had taken on that husky tone.

He wanted to do more than touch, so Jeff dipped his head and licked at the metal where it pierced Jensen's fair skin. Jensen didn't disappoint, gasping and arching into Jeff's mouth. Jeff slid his hands down Jensen's waist, grasping his hips under the jumpsuit. He pushed the fabric down to Jensen's thighs, revealing the flushed hard cock beneath, sans any underclothing. A white pearl of precome glittered at the tip, just taunting Jeff. He wanted to taste Jensen, memorize the flavor of his fluid exploding in Jeff's mouth.

So he moved fast, drawing himself to his feet and swinging Jensen around and pushing the other man flat on the bed. Jensen looked a little stunned as he bounced, pushing himself up on his elbows to watch as Jeff took hold of his cock - stars, it was scorching in his fingers - and licked off that drop of fluid. Jensen tasted wild and untamed, more spice than salt and Jeff could not stop, he mouthed along the head, nuzzling down the length of the cock, breathing in deep of the musk of Jensen's hairless balls.

"You shouldn't," Jensen whispered, eyes clenched tight.

"Wanted to taste you," Jeff growled, deep in his throat. His fingers dug into Jensen's hipbones, keeping him pinned to the bed. Now it was his turn to play, to enjoy being on his knees, taking whatever Jensen would give him. Jeff knew Jensen needed more, so he ordered, under his breath, "don't move."

Jensen choked out a moan, the sound going straight to Jeff's cock. He hadn't even unzipped his own jumpsuit, but the thought of doing this clothed, while Jensen lay naked and writhing under his fingers and mouth kept him from changing that. He pushed away the last of Jensen's clothing, pulling off the uniform boots and letting them thunk to the floor. There, perfect.

Jeff opened his mouth and slid down Jensen's length, that dick was full and flushed, not too long, but nothing to be ashamed of either. Jeff felt like he could stroke it for hours, petting the soft skin till Jensen begged for release. While he sucked, he pushed Jensen's thighs apart, he wanted to slide one finger up that smooth passage, expecting little resistance. Instead, he was surprised at how tight Jensen felt, even after all the fucking from early that morning.

"Please," Jensen whispered, his voice tight, and he made that whimpering sound in his throat, the one that he'd made in Medical, at the sharp bite of the piercing. Jeff pulled at the navel ring with one hand, sliding the other up Jensen's ass, all the while keeping his mouth full, sliding up and down the now slick length.

He could tell when Jensen got close, the way the other man's breathing hitched, how his moans increased, and his hands gripped the sheets so tightly. Without Jeff's order, he imagined Jensen would be writhing all over the bed, imprisoned by the sensations at his groin. Jeff pulled off, taking one last lick of the head, savoring that flavor, before pulling both hands free to fist the slick cock. "C'mon, boy," he murmured, and gave a knowing smile as Jensen arched off the bed and came in hard, hot pulses.

Jeff caught as much of the liquid as he could, then pulled away to slide back into Jensen's opening, coating him with his own come. Jensen still felt a bit too tight, so he twisted his fingers, looking for that spot that made the other man lose all control. He felt Jensen squeeze his fingers and attempt to pull away from the sensation, but Jeff pushed him back down with one hand. "Wanna fuck you," he said, stepping back to unzip his uniform, freeing his cock and nothing else.

"Yes," Jensen hissed, still breathing in heavy gasps. "Come on old man, show me what you've got."

Jeff took hold of Jensen's legs and pressed them back and up, "What I've got is a gag I'll use on you next time."

"Fuck," Jensen said. The word turned into a deep moan when Jeff pushed the head of his cock towards that tight hole. He felt every inch as he slid inside, though Jensen's body parted, like it was made just for him. Jeff grunted out his own moan, leaning forward, letting Jensen curl his legs around his waist.

He stole a kiss after bottoming out, needing a moment to catch his breath. Jensen was just too hot, too sensual and sultry and more than enough to make Jeff lose it too soon. He bit down on that full lip, taking that kiss, forcing Jensen's mouth open as he swallowed whatever groan or gasp to follow.

Then Jeff let go, rolling his hips and giving in to the sensation, letting his cock dictate the movement, harder and faster. He rocketed towards his climax, snapping forward to get more of that delicious friction. Jensen arched his neck, throwing his head back as his body bent to take the punishing thrusts. Finally, Jeff couldn't hold back anymore, and he came, fingers making indents on Jensen's arms where he held him down. His body jerked and he could feel the wetness where their bodies were still joined.

Jeff pulled back slightly, he didn't want to pull out just yet, he still liked the idea of his seed trapped inside Jensen's body, and reached down for Jensen's cock. He found it soft, but more than a splash of come stained both their bellies. Had he been so far gone he hadn't noticed Jensen coming a second time?

"Sorry," he said, looking down at Jensen's flushed face, his kiss-swollen lips.

"Are you kidding?" Jensen opened his eyes. Sweaty locks of hair fell into his forehead and he ran his hand over his head, making his hair stick up in all directions. "Who apologizes for good sex?"

Jeff laughed. He indulged and planted a kiss on the tip of Jensen's nose, making it scrunch up adorably. "Apparently I do." He eased himself out of Jensen's body, missing the contact as soon as he pulled away. "Don't move."

Kicking his jumpsuit off, Jeff grabbed a damp towel and wiped Jensen down, freeing him from any of the sticky wetness. Jensen scooted back when Jeff pulled down the covers and slid underneath the sheets beside him. They spooned together, Jeff catching Jensen's legs between his own, throwing one arm around his waist to play with the belly piercing.
Jensen squirmed, "It's a bit ticklish."

Jeff stilled. "Sorry," he said into Jensen's hair. He closed his eyes, thinking it had been a long day, but glad it had ended just as he had began, here in bed beside Jensen. "Stay," Jeff said. "I didn't like it when I woke up and you were gone."

Jensen stiffened in his arms for a moment, then let out a little sigh. "Can you set an alarm then? I need to get up early and call my brother."

"You always call him before you go on a mission."

Jeff felt the tiny shrug. "We started that when I first graduated the Academy. Grew into a tradition, I guess. He'd worry, if I didn't."

"You two are close, then?"

Jensen rolled onto his back and turned his head towards Jeff. "When do I get to ask the questions, huh?"

Those green eyes looked tense and weary, but not angry, like Jeff expected. He lifted a hand and skimmed his fingers over Jensen's cheek, playing connect-the-dots with the freckles there. What could he say, that he wanted to know more about the man who would share his bed for who knew how long they stayed on 328? Could he explain that Jensen intrigued him, that he wanted to know more about the mystery, the front Jensen threw up when he wanted to avoid talking? Instead, Jeff just said, "ask then."

Jensen looked surprised at the offer. Jeff could tell he didn't have anything planned when he blurted, "Why did you join up?"

At least it was an easy question, that didn't touch any of the shadows in his heart. "I wanted to fly," he explained. "I grew up in Seattle, watching the low-glide flyers from the Space Academy. I'd never been off-planet, hell, had never even taken a shuttle to the moon. But I wanted to get up there." He closed his eyes, trying to reclaim the excitement, the sheer joy he'd experienced at his first flight, how it felt to be in control, nothing but him, his ship and the atmosphere. How could he have forgotten that? But Jeff couldn't quite reach it, couldn't recall what it felt like to be that young and innocent.

"Oh," Jensen said. "My parents moved to Texas when I was four. I grew up on our family's ranch. Wasn't born on Earth though."

"Few enough people in the Corps are." Jeff opened his eyes again, and searched the expression on Jensen's face, trying to divine the secrets behind the beauty. "Before Alfani, anyway, before Earth got hit."

"Old news." Jensen's lips thinned and he settled his head back onto the pillow. "Anyway, we're not supposed to be thinking about the war out here."

"Unless we're talking about the real reason the UP funded this project." Jeff sighed.

Jensen turned on his side and stared at Jeff. "I know you found alien tech down there."

Jeff snorted. "It's more than just some alien tech. It's a completely functional alien city. We didn't have any footage because Johnson had the camera that caught that part of the mission."

"Wonder if that's why he was taken instead?"

"Backing down on your eye-color theory?"

"Just keeping my options open." Jensen placed one hand on Jeff's chest, carding his fingers through the dark curls there. "We'll have to be ready for anything down there tomorrow."

"Including the possibility that they'll kick us out on our asses," Jeff grumbled.

Jensen smiled. "After the ultimatum the Queen issued you? No, she'll want to see you fail." He shifted until his head lay on Jeff's chest, curling their bodies together. "You're going to have to trust me, down there. Trust that I can handle it."

"I think I can do that." Jeff grinned back at him.

end

 
Comment on this fic!