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Title: Full Body Massage
Author: heartofslash
Rating: Adult
Fandom/Pairing: Black Hawk Down, Sanderson/Hoot
Disclaimer: Not real guys. Based on real guys originally, but so many steps away from the original product it's nigh unrecognizable. No infringement intended.
Dedication: For second_banana, my cyberwife, to whom I wanted to give an intense massage, and for my old friend helena_s_renn, to whom I wanted to give a very macho blow job. May you both have the very best this year, and may it include massages and oral sex of all varieties.
Full Body Massage
Warm oil dripped in slow motion from Sanderson's fingertips to the wide expanse of rippling muscles spread out on the bed below them. Hoot twitched when the first few drops hit, then he settled into the mattress.
"Work it good," he drawled.
Sanderson was happy to oblige. He spread the oil over taut skin and kneaded. There was nothing subtle about it.
You didn't give Hoot Gibson one of those namby-pamby-scented-candles-and-soft-music kind of massages. He was more of a being-pummeled-by-someone-Swedish-and-burly sort of massage recipient. He liked to have the tightness pounded out him, knots smashed into submission, tension beaten down, not eased up.
His back wasn't in a bad state, actually. He was tense, but there were no injuries, no giant knots or strains. Sanderson suspected that Hoot's day had not been nearly as hard as Hoot claimed it to have been when he'd walked in, tossed his coat in the corner and downed a beer in two swallows, three tops.
Nowhere near as hard as Sanderson's cock was, but that was to be expected. He was wearing only a pair of briefs as he straddled the best ass he'd ever straddled, and he had his hands all over what could only be described as a hunk of grade A prime man.
But first, the massage.
Sanderson's hands moved with brutal efficiency. He worked his way down, from neck to waist, in ten minutes. The muscles responded the way they were supposed to, and by the end the glistening of all that skin was close to blinding, not only from the oil but from the shapes, the sheer symmetry and beauty of the ridges and slopes and fuck but Hoot was cut nice.
"I'm good," Hoot sighed.
"Not yet, you're not," Sanderson said. He slid his hands down over Hoot's firm ass.
"You're right. I'm not," Hoot moaned into the pillow. "But I'm getting there…"
Sanderson kneaded ruthlessly. It wasn't often he got his hands and Hoot's ass together like this without Hoot trying to get his hands on Sanderson's ass too. Hoot was practically helpless beneath him, accepting whatever Sanderson had to give without trying to gain the upper hand. Almost - and Sanderson almost dared to think it but not quite - submissive.
It was a luxury Sanderson was not going to pass up.
Hoot wriggled and stuck a hand under himself to adjust his cock.
Sanderson flipped him over, no warning.
"Hold still," Sanderson said. "I'm going to get you relaxed all over."
"I was relaxed all over. I was just getting ready to fall asleep I was so damn relaxed and then - Ah! Fuck! Warn a man before you do that!"
Sanderson mumbled around his very full mouthful of cock.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Jeff! If you keep sucking like that…!"
Sanderson kept sucking like that. Just like that. Hard. Unrelenting. The way Hoot needed to relax.
Hoot's hips rose up off the mattress.
Sanderson pushed them back down.
Hoot started to spread his legs.
Sanderson was tempted.
But... no.
Hoot's cock jerked. His whole body tensed like one big six-foot-four muscle ready to flee or fight. Every muscle Sanderson had worked so hard to soften went rigid. And then he made a sound like he was choking.
Sanderson swallowed. Several times.
Hoot melted back onto the bed, breathing heavily, as if he'd just run ten miles up a mountain.
Sanderson lifted his head to look at Hoot's slack limbs, sated cock, and the smooth lines of his totally relaxed body.
Mission accomplished.
End
Back to The Long Haul or on to more Long Haul fic in The Cajun Medic
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