Big Guns
For angrypin
Vic/Rodelar, prompt: gun kink
tipsy bartender + frisky bounty hunter + big guns = fun times (nsfw)
***
Nar Shaddaa never slept, but there was a time, towards the early hours of the morning, when the music in the cantinas and casinos got a bit slower, the traffic a bit less hectic, and the muffled conversations turned a bit more personal. The droids started cleaning the tables and the first customers got up and left, slowly, one by one.
His shift would soon be over, Rodelar knew without checking the time. Not that there was much work to be done at this hour. The girls could take care of business for a while.
An impatient grunt from the bounty hunter next to him brought Rodelar back to the present. He could feel the heat radiating from the big man as he leaned closer to see what he was doing.
The barkeeper and owner of the 'Ralltiir Tiger' was still running his fingers over the hunter's favorite blaster, slowly, sensuously, mapping every inch with his fingertips. It was a beautiful piece of weapon: well kept, with a modified barrel and a hilt worn from years of use. It suited its owner, he thought with a smirk.
Rodelar had met the bounty hunter earlier at the bar. He was one of the regulars, but they'd never really talked to each other before tonight.
As it had turned out, Rodelar already knew the human. Or at least he'd heard a lot of stories about him. Being a barkeeper meant you inevitably spent a lot of time listening to other people.... and his friend Lio loved to talk.
He'd always wanted to meet Lio's bounty hunter, and tonight he'd finally gotten the chance.
The man's name turned out to be Vic, not Viccy (he had always wondered about that). They'd spend the better part of the evening talking, mostly about Lio (whom Vic was waiting for), but also about the cantina (Rodelar didn't manage to hide his pride) and about blasters and guns -- one of Rodelar's favourite topics.
Vic knew quite a lot about weapon modifications, which was of course not so unusual considering his profession. As the night grew later, Rodelar had moved to the hunter's table and they'd shared a few drinks... well, a few drinks more than he usually shared with his customers, but Lio's friend was his friend too, yes?
Just now, Vic was explaining something about the blaster's modifications, offering to show him, but Rodelar politely declined. In truth, he didn't want to give the gun out of his hands yet. It had such a nice weight to it, he would have really loved to fire it. His fingers kept stroking the muzzle...
When Vic's hand landed on his shoulder, Rodelar had to swallow hard, throat suddenly dry. The warmth of the man's palm was seeping through his thin jacket, and Rodelar just hoped he wouldn't notice his pounding heart.
All that talk about guns ... it was embarrassing, but it had gotten him a little “excited”.
Had he been alone and in a more private location, or a little more drunk, Rodelar would have liked to taste the metal, to run his tongue along the barrel and over the trigger guard, suck on the...
Damn, now he was getting really hot. He shifted in his chair, glad that he was sitting behind a table.
“You really like guns don't you?” Vic's deep voice inquired. His tone was far from innocent, but Rodelar convinced himself that it must have just been his imagination. Wishful thinking on his part, clearly.
“You have no idea,” he admitted, cheeks burning, and he quickly put the blaster down. No, oh no, no, he wasn't going to think about those fantasies now...
He clenched his jaws and wrapped his hands around his drink, trying not to show how much the whole situation affected him. Damn. The more he tried to shove the thoughts away, the more they kept tormenting him.
There was a click of glass on metal as Vic put down his empty drink. The hunter reached over Rodelar's shoulder to take his blaster back, leaning against him for a moment, hand accidentally brushing against Rodelar's on the table.
Despite everything, the flustered Twi'lek was still trying to convince himself he was imagining things, but the following words were difficult to misinterpret.
“Seeing as you own the place, I bet you can afford to disappear for a moment, hm? What do you say?” Vic's lewd tone made his intentions very clear, but Rodelar couldn't believe that he was hearing correctly. No one flirted with him. That was why he hired the dancers and pretty waiters. He was just the barkeeper … he was...
Suddenly the big hand dropped to his waist, giving a short squeeze that made him flinch and let out a rather embarrassing groan before he could stop himself. It was impossible that what he thought was happening to him was really happening to him.
“Weren't you waiting for Lio?” It was hard not to stutter.
“He can join us later,” Vic murmured under his breath, and the double meaning didn’t escape Rodelar. Fuck. That thought was hot, too. He was up on his feet before he knew what he was doing.
Surprisingly gentle hands pulled him into the storage room, but he only got to stumble a few steps into the room before he was shoved back against the door. He didn't complain. Actually, he was quite glad for the support: feeling the solid metal in his back was about the only thing that made the situation real.
The Twi'lek let his hands wander over broad shoulders, let them finally explore Vic's face, the strong jaw, the small beard.... He was pretty tall himself, but the human was even taller. He smelled of engine room, leather, caf and a hint of Corellian rum and... and gun oil, oh damn...
He would have liked to just touch Vic a bit longer, to learn more about him, but the man didn't hold still for long. The hunter said something about “big guns”, chuckled and proceeded to push Rodelar flat against the wall, attacking his throat. There was a hint of teeth, followed by an apologetic kiss, and
Rodelar couldn't help but moan, trying to push himself against the thigh pressing between his legs.
Suddenly the warm lips were gone and so was Vic for a moment. Rodelar was just about to complain when his pants were pulled down and a rush of cold air washed over his half-hard cock. The appreciative grunt from the bounty hunter would have made him blush if he weren't already red-faced like a sith pureblood.
Calloused hands worked him to full hardness in a matter of seconds, and before he could fully comprehend what was happening, his cock was already engulfed in warmth and wetness. All he could do was to grab Vic's head, bury his hands in the surprisingly soft human hair, and hold on for dear life.