I’m obsessed with everything you write! Prompt for any of you AUs or canon: John being eager to please (romantically and sexually) and Gale reaping the benefits
Bonus if Gale hasn’t had any particularly good/special experiences before and thinks sex is overrated
This one is a little silly anon, but I hope you have fun with it!
It didn’t take Gale long to realize that the tall mass of a guy he’s been assigned as a roommate wanted to make it with him. The stupid nickname was the first clue, Buck, said with a smirk and a twinkle, you look just like Buck from Manitowoc, Wisconsin, right up on the shores of Lake Michigan, you’ll love it when I take you there, Buck. Can’t wait.
And then it was Buck this and Buck that, like he thought if he tried hard enough Gale was gonna start answering to goddamned Buck. Like if he gave those twinkling puppy eyes of his hard enough, he was eventually gonna get something for his trouble.
He was persistent, Gale’d give him that much, and shameless, like he thought if he was obvious enough about his sniffing around no one would think to blue ticket him. It was the blue ticket that finally motivated Gale to give it up, mostly. No way could Bucky Egan go on like this much longer without bringing them both down and Gale would rather get on his knees in some alleyway than let it go that far.
He figured once he did it Bucky would fuck off and find someone else to bother. That’s how this kind of game went down, mostly.
Gale took the initiative when Bucky was yammering on about his shoes or shoelaces or the movies playing in town or trying to tell him he knew how to sing, even though Gale and everyone else on base had heard what he called singing for themselves. Gale had more than enough of it by the time he rolled his eyes, checked Bucky with his shoulder, looked him right in the eye and said, “alright, come on already.”
Bucky did not ask what was coming on. Not even when Gale shoved him into an unused closet, one he damn well knew was going to stay that way, jammed something under the doorknob and then tackled his belt buckle. He had the initiative well in hand, no goddamned way was John Egan getting his jaw off the floor while Gale was sliding onto his knees and fishing out his cock. It wasn’t bad as they went, nice weight to it, clean head, smelled alright. Gale tilted his head back, parted the lips he knew had caught Bucky’s eye and took it deep, knowing exactly how much guys liked that, and that Bucky was no exception.
The shocked breathlessness of him was pretty good for what it was worth, the shaking hands, the strange squeak of his voice when he said, “Buck, Gale, Jesus, christ, oh my god.” And Gale grinned around the length and width of him and really went to work. Bucky wasn’t a jerk about it either, didn’t thrust or try to make Gale gag on him, just pet the back of his head with fingers that wouldn’t stop trembling, like this was some kind of wonder.
In but a few minutes of that Gale was swallowing, coaxing it out of Bucky, balls and shaft, watching the rapturous look on Bucky’s face while he swallowed. He pulled off and sighed, wiped his mouth and made to get up, figuring that had been a pretty good effort and they could move on now.
Instead, Bucky Egan did another thing. Which was that he cupped his big hands around the nape of Gale’s neck, sweet and gentle as if he were holding his best girl, and then kissed him flush on the lips like he wasn’t intimately aware of where exactly Gale’s mouth had been.
Gale had never been much interested in kissing– it was what you did with girls, before they hopped out of your car, after they fluttered their eyelashes and parted their lips– and it was fine. Warm, a little damp if they wanted it, dry if they weren’t so sure. Kissing a guy– well you could kiss their dick if they were into that– wet and with tongue.
No one had told John any of all that because he kissed ardently, like he thought this was a movie set, some kinda blue picture. Kissed like kissing was the main event, like he hadn’t even thought beyond getting his tongue past Gale’s lips, never mind that he’d already had his dick there. He hadn’t even bothered to pull up his pants, cock was still hanging out of his shorts, mostly soft and damp from Gale’s mouth.
“You’re beautiful, Buck, prettiest thing west of the Mississippi. East of it too,” John told him, with that unnerving intensity and then, even though no one had ever said he ought to, set about putting his hand down Gale’s shorts, cupping the cock that had, somewhere along the line, shown an interest in these proceedings too. “I got us a room in town, how about I show you how much I like you?”
Gale had no intention of saying yes, but he did anyhow.
Ended up in the middle of a big bed, naked with his knees spread and Bucky Egan’s mouth licking him open, scratch of mustache and wash of tongue, until he was so hard he was painting streaks over his own belly.
This, it turned out, was not the end, but just a start. Most fellas, having shot their shot, would maybe come back for seconds or thirds if it was easy and they were hankering after it. They wouldn’t keep up the charm, or whatever this was.
“Buck, what’s your favorite ice cream? Buck, I got an extra candy bar from the drug store, Buck, listen up, let me–” Get the door, save you a seat, give you a ride, a nice cold cola, carry your books, what the hell was all this, Bucky Egan?
And then they started flying for real and Gale was in love. The fighters were something, just Gale and the sky the way he'd been planning when he showed up at flight school to begin with. But then there were the big birds. Yoke under his hand, Bucky Egan in the right seat giving him a strange look, clear Texas sky open all around them.
Gale Cleven turned into Buck, turned into one engine Cleven and back to Buck, turned into his dick down Bucky Egan’s throat, turned into them so tangled up that there was no way the old Gale would ever have found it comfortable, turned into chocolate at the movies and serenades so godawful that no one watching could see anything but the joke.
