Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Starfighter fiction?? What is this madness?! (smutty short)

Starfighter © M. Palumbo/HamletMachine.

Lift 24

It’s not the way that I intended for things to go. It’s just the way they did. Maybe I could have changed them if I’d wanted to, maybe not. That’s not really the point. I liked it. Maybe too much. I still like it. More than I should. At least, I think... maybe more than I should.


I watched the greens and reds of the access panels catch on the sharp angles of his features. Light shone through the grill of the catwalk, and my gut gave a nervous twist in time with the shifting of the mottled shadows on the sides of his boots. His stride was purposeful, his steps loud, but not so loud as my own heart in my ears. I couldn’t stop staring.

“Where are we going, Cain?”

I didn’t like being left in the dark. He seemed to enjoy keeping me there as much as possible.

“Told you, didn’t I? You’ll have to wait and see. Think of it as an adventure. You’re a navigator, aren’t you? Navigators are supposed to like adventure.”

Everything was an adventure. Not always a good adventure, but that didn’t stop my heart from giving a skip in my chest. It didn’t stop my pulse from quickening against my nerves. My mouth was dry, and all over one little word. Adventure.

We reached the service lift in short order, but the trip felt twice as long as it had taken. Cain flashed me a grin over his shoulder, eye sly above the corner of his collar. I glared in an attempt to look irritated. I wanted him to know that I didn’t appreciate him jerking me around. I don’t think it worked.

The doors whisked open soon enough, breaking the lock of our stares. The lift was empty, an Cain blocked the panel as he jabbed one of the level buttons. My stomach gave a lurch for the sudden movement, and then another as the lift ground to a halt, Cain’s fingers curled about the emergency stop.

The com chimed unpleasantly. “Lift twenty-four, do you require assistance?”

Cain was grinning at me again. An unsettling grin that showed too much of his teeth. I fixed my stare to his thumb as he pressed the mic button, and willed myself to speak. I required assistance. I could feel my mouth working feebly at the open air. Nothing came out.

“Cain here. No assistance necessary.”

And really, there wasn’t. He was on me in an instant, and I welcomed him with the wide swing and wrap of one arm about his shoulders. He smelled faintly of musk, and of smoke. Just like that, we were moving. Or rather, he was moving me.

The wall of the lift was surprisingly cold. It bit a chill into the small of my back, and I gave a shimmy to try and roll my coat and shirt down to cover where they’d raised. Cain was there, interrupting as he always did. Blocking me as he always did. He’d pinned my free arm to my side. Fingers at my wrist. Knee between my legs. Smirk on his face. I hated that smirk. I loved that smirk.


“Don’t pretend you don’t want it. I know you do. I can taste it.”

Cool air tickled the side of my neck, followed by a flood of warmth. I shivered as his lips passed along my skin, as his tongue slid along my throat. I did want it. I thought I might burst in my pants for the way he grabbed me, I wanted it so badly.

“The cameras--”

“No cameras on the service lift.”

How would he even know? I wondered if it was a lie. I wondered if it mattered. His teeth found my ear. Sharp at first, then crushing, and the pain speared into my neck, the back of my head. It blossomed silver and white, prickled tears to my eyes. It didn’t matter if it was a lie.

“I said no biting!”

His shoulder did not yield to the pressure of my palm. Instead he shoved himself closer, flattened me entirely to the wall. Chest to chest, he rocked his thigh between my legs. Tense and unforgiving with the slide of fabric.

“Just everything else, right?”

He was at my lips before I could answer, nibbling as much as kissing. The tip of his nose grazed my cheek, and his breath flooded warm along my upper lip as his tongue dabbed. Dabbed again and pushed inward. Even that was nearly violent. I sank my fingers into his hair, pulling and twisting near the roots, trying to get him to ease. It only made him more excited. I don’t think Cain could ease into anything.

“Right.” The whisper escaped as our kiss broke. I hadn’t meant to utter it. Hadn’t even planned to say it.

The world was abruptly tumbling again. It scared me less than it used to, but it was still disorienting. A rush of its own. He was spinning me about by my captured arm, and I had no choice but to let him go. Let go and meet the wall with a fleshy thud to the metal. He crushed up behind me, smothering with his weight. My breath caught as his fingers worked along my zip, plied open the panels of my trousers to paw and grasp anew. Skin to skin. The touch withdrew between heartbeats, and the next thing I knew the coarse fabric was bunching under the curve of my ass.

“Cain, I-” I was interrupted as he hauled on my hip, sending my brow glancing along the metal. His fingers were cool, slick with oil I hadn’t seen him retrieve, and they went probing along the cleft of my ass. “Cai-!” He’d slipped one in without consideration to the tension that ran down my spine.

“Relax. It’s an adventure, remember?”

His finger pumped in, out, and in again. Slow and steady. I braced my brow to my arm as the tensity began to ease. My breathing went from halted to shallow and quick. He hooked another finger in, scissoring and spreading, still driving in, curling, sliding back out again. Warm and oh so pleasant. His other hand tugged along my freed cock, urging me to shift my hips. Everything was sleek, and moving, and I’d long forgotten my reservations.

Cain’s fingers slid out with a parting circling, and his palm rocked hard from my hip to the midpoint of my thigh. Next thing I knew he’d looped an arm about me and was hauling up, up past the rude jutting of his cock against my leg.

His fingers bruised at their loop near the inside of my knee, grasping too-tight as he pushed me up against the wall of the lift. His cock rocked into me in blind jabbing, nearly painful as it struck again and again off of its mark. I couldn’t help but whine, but squirm, and then he was in me. In with one decisive thrust that had him stretching me wide. Wider as he let my weight drop to meet his, using gravity to bury himself too deep. Too fast. Again.

I was left gasping, panting, nearly sobbing as I felt him pulse within me. Even slick and stretched as I had been, it was all but overwhelming. I tingled through my fingers, through my lips, and then, as the uneasy knot in my gut began to slacken, he began to move. In, and out, and bucking hard into me, jarring me against the wall through chest and belly. Steady and relentless.

The thumping of my toes to the side of the lift was distracting. The cold against the aching of my cock made the heat beneath the surface of my skin seem all the more pronounced. I couldn’t focus. I wanted to. So badly. I wanted to think. Not thinking was what got me into the situation to begin with. It was easy not to think around Cain. Too easy.


He was biting me again. Surprise pealed through my frequent, disjointed cries, echoing back at me from the austere planes and angles of the lift. I didn’t bother reprimanding him. The scrape of his teeth sent fresh eddies of heat along my nerves, prompting me to tuck my knees toward the walls and push eagerly back.

Cain’s rutting came all the more vigorous, all the more heated and sharp. I was jostled haphazardly between the wall and the man himself, bathed in a fine sheen of sweat and split wide about his cock. Every thrust was a new angle, and each was punctuated with a mild quiver of strain through his thighs from supporting my weight.

I dipped again as his nose worked against the back of my neck, his breath in starts and stops beneath the collar of my coat. My cheek smacked to the wall on a violent upthrust, and the world seemed to drop out from under me as Cain took advantage of my momentum to back swiftly. His fingers dug into my side, the arm slung about my torso squeezing, crushing. This was going to bruise even more than usual. The idea had my cock rubbing all the slicker as I was bounced into the wall again, again.

Cain.” That moan. That voice. Was it mine? It had to be. It wasn’t his. His was rumbling near my shoulder, a throaty growl of encouragement. Of approval.

The teeth of his zip caught my ass uncomfortably, but it was difficult to separate that cry from any of the others. He was stretching me wider near the surface, plunging in too deep and too hard, everything always too fast. Too good. Too perfect.

I felt the tension gather before his own grunts of effort changed. I’d already become familiar enough with the sensations to know. The erratic change to his set pace, the near desperate volley of thrusts. The way he gripped and kneaded at me. The smear of his mouth across my coat, my neck. Nose in my hair. He was panting so hard, and then he wasn’t panting at all. One buck, another, and his cock swelled, made me throb. Made me ache. The warm, easing flood came after. He rocked again, and then came the groan. Loud and long at the back of my ear, broken to accompany the smacking of his hips behind me, the lingering pistons and rocks as he drove himself in as deep as he could.

“Fuck.” His voice rasped in my ear as he finally slowed, stilled. Cain’s body was trembling behind me, beneath me. His withdrawal was so abrupt that it hurt, left me feeling too empty too soon.

We collapsed together to the floor of the lift. I was panting, shuddering, and he was chuckling darkly in his sprawl half beneath me. Smug. Certain.

“Mmmnuh.” I don’t even know what I’d meant to say. I’d intended to say something, but I lost whatever hope of thought I’d had when his hand slid up the inside of my thigh.

Cain’s fingers wrapped about the tight clutch of my balls and squeezed. Pulled. I was left gasping and panting all over again, moaning thickly in my sprawl against Cain. Against the floor of the lift. He nudged me rudely to the side, leaving the chill, filthy floor to smack against the heat of my skin.

He made up for it with his fingers. The way they wrapped and pulled, sliding up from the base of my cock in a smooth, swift tug. The way they squeezed and pressed down to clutch near the base for half a heartbeat before pulling up once again.

He made up for it with his mouth. A mouth that was working at my own in a slide of lips and glide of tongue, in the flirting of teeth across skin. In the low throaty growls that passed along his breath and into mine.

Over and over his hand worked, vigorous and sure. Over and over, and not long at all until I was left trembling, quivering anew for the force of my climax. The splatter of my release dabbled warm along my belly, slicked his fingers as they continued to stroke and to pull. My cries echoed back on me from the corners of the lift. How was it I was even coherent enough to utter his name? Everything was orange. Silver. Black as my vision came back to focus on the hair that had fallen into my eyes. We were still at last, with his breath flooding my ear. Louder by far than the thin strum of my pulse.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it, sweetheart?”


“You’re welcome.”

I was seeping warm between my asscheeks, toward the floor of the lift. I was reasonably certain that there was cum on my shirt. I’d have to button my jacket. I could feel the turmoil rising through my bliss. The mix of frustration and anger that was directed at myself as much as it was at him. I shoved it aside, focusing instead on how good I felt, on how loose my joints were. Even if I was tender as I stood to fix my clothes. He’d already zipped up, and was tapping a smoke out of its pack.

“That was a rotten adventure,” I grumbled.

Cain thumped the emergency stop button with the side of his hand. The lift gave a lurch, threatening to spill me back into the wall.

“Don’t worry, princess. This adventure's just getting started.”


Would I have taken the opportunity to change things if I’d known how they were going to go? If I’d known what he was up to from the start? I don’t know. Maybe. Like I said, I like it. I like him. More than I should.


  1. This was so intensely glorious, I absolutely adore it!

    Ah, Marcus, thank you! There's so many wonderful moments in this.. Cain's little "adventure" guise, the intimate details like noses touching cheeks.. all the awesome internal characterization of Abel! Ahh, so scrumptious! And so vivid! You have always had an awesome knack for word choice and this is such a fine demonstration of that power!

    So beautifully done! Thank you so much for extending your incredible talents to SF! It's such a huge honor and I am so SO happy to read it! Such a wonderful and sexy gift!Thank you so much, my sweet!

    P.S. This line, "Everything was an adventure. Not always a good adventure, but that didn’t stop my heart from giving a skip in my chest." I swear, I made the most villainous laugh, your writing is too enjoyable!

  2. I'm just so glad you like it! I kept nit-picking at it to try and get the tone right for the character. Hurrah for villainous laughter!

  3. Good thing I joined twitter the day before yesterday, otherwise I might have missed this gem!

    The story is vey, very HOT (but then, you knew that) and I enjoyed it immensely. Good pacing, tinitllating allusions to things to come, adore the feeling of "moth drawn to the flame" that comes with Abel's internal dialogue.

    Thank you!

  4. ooh! such amazing feelings and the atmosphere! made me squirm with excitement! as Hamlet said, fantastic choice of words ^^
    i absolutely loved this ^^


  5. <3 <3 Thank you! \o/ excited squirming

  6. That was fantastic! I'm sooo glad I had added HamletMachine on Twitter~ <3

  7. Oh my God that was mindblowingly gorgeous and unff so so sexy and amazing *__* I'd LOVE to see more Cain and Abel fiction <3

  8. I'm glad you guys liked it! I probably won't be writing more Cain & Abel fiction. It feels.. presumptuous? awkward?.. something. Someone else's characters and plot, you know. :) One little segue is as much as I dare. <3

  9. Um, wow. That was hot. Like, I'm pretty sure I have a nosebleed right now...

    You're incredible.

    I write SF fanfiction occasionally, and I totally get what you mean -- it does feel awkward when you know the creator herself is reading or has read your fanfiction. It's like a breach of the third wall or something.

  10. Oh, no. She and I have been on friendly terms for quite some time. The awkward part for me is the presumption of writing someone else's characters, as though I would know enough of the nuances of their thought patterns and motivations to do so. Especially in a piece of first-person text like this one.

    It's not breaking the wall for me, it's playing God with someone else's creations.

  11. This is so adorable. I just love it. Cain is always so forward! You captured them so well!

  12. I can't believe I am only just finding this gem! God, I love this...the pace, choice of words, actions, reactions, mood, setting... everything!
    Marcus, you are amazing; just fucking amazing!
    Thank you ♥~

  13. ♥ Thank you for all the love!

  14. wow, man, that was excellent; descriptive, wonderfully written and sexy.