James spends his days guarding the Machine at the heart of the complex, the device that supports all life in the underground complex. He spends his nights mostly alone in his cramped sleeping cubicle. When he catches one of the mysterious saboteurs who repeatedly attack the Machine, he succumbs to the man’s intimate offer, and forsakes duty for human touch. (M/M)
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I turn a corner, feeling my skin tingle with excitement. It was here that I saw him for the first time, crouched over a small pipe with a wrench in his hand to harm the machine, much as a flea bites an ankle. All Zhan’s warnings about armed and dangerous people flew out of my head. My vision clouded with rage at the thought of someone damaging the machine I’d almost come to think of as my own.
He didn’t hear me approach until I was almost upon him and when he stood up, I launched myself and grabbed at his body. We thudded down on the metal walkway together, me on top, panting with effort as my hat rolled off into the darkness. He didn’t seem afraid of me. He’d rolled his balaclava up so he could breathe more easily in the heat, and as I glared down at him through the steam and the dim light, I saw him smile.
He had a curved, sensuous mouth and a few days’ growth of dark stubble on his strong chin. He was shorter than me, but wiry and slippery, and I pinned his wrists at either side of his head with difficulty. Fighting for purchase, I drove my thigh between his. He moaned as he continued to struggle beneath me until—to my shame—I felt my cock grow hard. He must have felt it too, because his smile grew wider and he stopped struggling suddenly, and parted his legs. My body slid into the space and I ground against him, trying to maintain my hold. But his skin was damp with moisture and my palms were hot and sweaty and eventually he twisted his wrists from my grasp with a triumphant laugh.