Clockwork

AN: This is the first porny thing I have written in a long while, so please be gentle! Alfonse belongs to my boyfriend, Sergei is mine.

Other warnings: Gunplay, military kink, violence (slightly dubious consent with that).

Enjoy!

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Each building jutting out of the rubble-strewn landscape milled with people. Ants in a colony. Their city was surrounded by a wasteland of metal struts, rebar and dust, a forest of the shells of apartment blocks and schools. The land here was nice and even, roads laid down flat, cars milling along in the hazy mid-morning sun. Even now it was obscured by clouds, thick yellow ones full to the brim of dust and pollution hundreds of years old. A smog hung low over some of the factory districts, their red and white striped chimneys only just visible through the clouds of smoke.

Sergei peered out through his office window, down to the people on the ground. Most hurried along, busy with their own lives. Soldiers - his own special forces - stood guard in strategic positions, dark in their uniforms. He looked out to the outskirts, the people there even smaller looking. A mauled body seemed to be chained to a fence. His son's work, no doubt. Or Jarek's. Then again, those on the outskirts seemed to have no qualms about brutalising each other. The law was laid down, but Sergei preferred it if they ruled themselves whilst he kept an eye on his own people, always searching through documents showing dissenters or people who had been accused of sedition.

Not that he had to have much of a job other than legislating and tactics for land based warfare, but this took up the time. Being the one who could have people dragged off in the middle of the night never to return amused him at least. At least he never denied his hedonistic lifestyle. He was relatively sure that it was only tolerated because of his marriage to Alfonse and intelligence at how to deal with and control the general population. Not to mention that he generally had the common decency to turn up to meetings at least somewhat sober. Sometimes high, yes, but that was what kept his head together, wasn't it?

Arms hugged him from behind and he had to suppress a latent paranoid urge to draw his gun or knife. The smell was distinctly Alfonse, as was the nuzzle to his neck. He relaxed, smiling a little now. It seemed twisted and cruel, mocking, maybe, although his tone was sincere.

"Hello. I wasn't expecting that!" he said, cuddling back lazily.

"What are you doing?"

Sergei shrugged. The last report had been filed, he'd had a smoke and then wandered over to look outside and watch the world go by below. He supposed it was a bit like playing with toys, clockwork ones you could watch scurry around frantically. Little clockwork cars and people going to work and school and shopping.

"People watching, I suppose."

Alfonse peered over, resting his chin on Sergei's bony shoulder, cheek brushed by the soft fur lining his coat.

"Isn't it a bit difficult to see?" he chuckled.

He shrugged again, nearly dislodging Alfonse's face from his shoulder, and leant against the window to watch again. His smile twisted and warped into more of a leer and he turned a little to kiss the side of Alfonse's head.

"Remember when we were on Alternacht and you said... something about fucking me up against a window?"

It had been years and years back, the memories vague. The thought of it still made Sergei squirm though. It was always nice to lose control as well, to not be the one gripping a knife in his hand and sliding the blade over taut skin. For a change.

"Sergei!"

Alfonse drew back and Sergei grinned over his shoulder at him, catching a glint in his eyes.

"What? It's not like they're going to be looking up, thinking 'I wonder if our leaders are banging up there. Oh look, there they are' are they? And if they do see, so what?" he said with a laugh, about to slip his coat off.

Hands moved over his own skinny ones, stopping him.

"I like you with it on," Alfonse murmured, beginning to nibble at Sergei's neck, sliding his hands to his hips.

Sergei let out a delicious, soft moan when he bit down, tilting his head to the side and half-closing his pale eyes. One of the hands left his hip as the other worked its way downwards. The sound of a gun being drawn from its holster made him whimper, the sound of the hammer being clicked back going straight to his groin. His breath picked up as the barrel was moved over his lips, Alfonse's free hand rubbing and squeezing him through his clothes.

"Suck it, Herr Källe," he growled, and with a lick of the lips, Sergei eagerly obeyed.

The metal was delightfully cold against his tongue, which slid over it as if he were teasing a cock. He kept up his little game for a while before Alfonse roughly shoved the barrel in, making him yelp and tense up.

"I said suck it, not lick it."

With a slight frown, he dutifully sucked, trying not to gag as Alfonse forced it in deeper. He shuddered, wrapping his lips around the cold barrel, the metallic taste filling his mouth. Carefully, he moved so his ass was pressed tight up against Alfonse's crotch, already hard as hell. There was a murmured sound of approval, and the hand fondling his cock moved away. Sergei huffed, but kept up his little display with the pistol, allowing his mouth to be fucked with the weapon.

He had never had this done to him before. Doing it to other people or himself was an entirely different matter, but the loss of control made him weak at the knees. When the gun was slid out of his mouth, lips slick with saliva, he had to bite his lip to prevent himself from begging for more. A brief thought of the cold metal barrel being pushed slowly into his ass made him shakily sigh.

"Strip. But put your coat back on after."

The coldness off the order made Sergei shiver, glancing over his shoulder at Alfonse who was frowning, despite the heated look in his eyes.

"Yes, sir," he purred, knowing how wild that little game drove them both.

He started with his boots, using that as a prime excuse to bend over. Licking his lips free of the metallic taste of the gun, he shrugged his coat off for now, followed by his shirt. Finally, he slid his pants and underwear down his bony hips, knowing without looking that Alfonse was desperate to gaze at them. He grinned over his shoulder once more, and pulled his coat back on. The fur against his naked, heated flesh made him purr, catlike. He turned. A cocky smile painted his face.

Alfonse's eyes roamed his skinny body, taking in the way the fur brushed over his knife-like hips, the way his cheeks flushed and that irresistible arrogant little smirk. Sergei never expected the pistolwhip, yelping and staggering back, holding his cheek. Outrage flashed over his face before he remembered what they were doing and cringed instead, rubbing his jaw. It was lucky it wasn't broken, but there would be one hell of a bruise later. He decided to bring that up later - bruises could be corrected, but he had already lost his jaw before and didn't fancy the sound of it happening again. He was pulled close, held up against Alfonse's more toned body, his ear nipped at and licked.

"Don't try that shit with me... bad, cocky men get punished. Lean up against the window."

"Sir."

Sergei quickly obeyed, shifting his hips a little so the coat exposed his bare ass, although the soft fall of fur over it had felt exquisite. He spread his legs, bracing against the cool glass with his palms. The first finger was surprisingly okay, considering they had no lube. He whined as Alfonse slowly moved it in and out in a boringly even pace before sliding his second finger in. Frowning, Sergei repositioned himself to press back, the pain making him impossibly hard and squirmy. It wasn't long before he was breathing heavily, biting back a chuckle as Alfonse pressed them in deeper before pulling them out.

A sound of zips and belts, and Alfonse's cock was pressed up against him instead, sliding inside. Agonising, slow. Sergei made a low noise as one hand roughly grabbed his hip, the other pressing the gun up to his lips again. He sucked the tip of the barrel for now as Alfonse thrusted in deeper, setting an even, steady pace, if rough.

"Look at you... gorgeous little thing."

The rough grip on his hip held him in place, prevented him from rocking his hips back to further his own pleasure. The growl from Alfonse's mouth made him moan and he tilted his head up to speak.

"Sir, please... You will promote me for this, won't you?"

Sergei's favourite game, the rookie desperate for approval from his commander, or the inexperienced officer being punished.

"Only if you please me enough."

"Sir."

He bobbed his head back down to suck at the pistol, moaning and gasping around it as Alfonse fucked him harder, angling his cock to hit the right spot. The hand on his hip left, and Sergei felt something soft envelop his hard cock. Oh god, the fur, of course it was. The bastard. The pelt rubbing gently against him, the pace incredibly different and infinitely more gentle than the way his ass was being fucked... It made him buck his hips into the fur. The way it caressed his cock differed so much from the hard metal being pumped in and out of his mouth, swollen lips slipping over the gun.

The multitude of sensations left him with no idea which to concentrate on. Alfonse knew his kinks all too damn well. The fur was winning for now, each gentle rub unbearable. Pre cum dripped into the soft grey pelt and Alfonse drove his cock all the way inside of Sergei, forcing him to deep throat the gun. The pain agonised him, but the fur made him able to manage.

"I expect you to report nightly to me. Beg, Herr Källe."

The gun was removed from his mouth. His jaw ached, his throat was sore.

"Please fuck me!" he said, cringing internally at how whiny he sounded.

Before meeting Alfonse, Sergei Källe had never begged. Yet this man reduced him to it. He thrusted in again, desperate as Sergei was, forcing the gun back into his mouth. Sergei sweated through the fur, hands sliding down the window and legs trembling. Alfonse's hand replaced the fur lining his coat now, jerking Sergei roughly until he cried out around the gun and came. He whined and trembled, feeling Alfonse come inside of him soon after, riding out the last waves of his climax.

The gun fell from his lips and both men panted heavily, until Alfonse pulled out and moved to lean back against Sergei's desk, gesturing for his husband to take the chair. Sergei did so very carefully, feeling come running down his thighs.

"My ass hurts. So does my face. And cleaning my coat will cost a small fortune that you are paying for," he grumbled. "And technically you should be calling me Herr Diedrich-Källe now."

Alfonse laughed weakly, reaching to stroke his shoulder. Sergei smiled up at him, the complaints affectionate.