Page 33 of Too Many Beds

“You like taking care of people,” Lucas blurts.

Creek balks. “I,” he begins, then stalls.

“I bet you act like an ass because you’re too busy making sure everyone else is safe and comfortable,” Lucas says, thinking back to his conversation with Ranger over breakfast; Creek creating a meal plan to combat Ranger’s food sensitivity. “That’s sweet. You’re sweet, and it’s not even a secret. You just show it in a diff?—”

Lucas doesn’t expect Creek to place a hand over his mouth, cutting off his speech. His palm is warm beneath the powdery latex, and his olive-toned cheeks have gone rosy; the tips of his ears might as well be on fire for how they redden.

“Thank you for your assessment, Captain,” Creek says in a strangled voice. “I’m going to administer your shot now.”

Oh, right. Lucas said all that with his pants down. Wonderful.

Mercifully, when Creek removes his hand Lucas manages to not follow his babble up with a comment about the nimble fingers that wipe a section of his skin with an alcohol swab. He waves to dry the alcohol before pinching his thigh and skillfully slipping the needle inside. Lucas is apathetic to needles, but watching the concentration on Creek’s face as he applies steady pressure to the plunger until the full dose is inside him feels… intimate, somehow.

Especially the tender way he massages the area after withdrawing the needle and disposing of it. Lucas fancies the idea of something else of Creek’s inside him—something warmer, sans latex—but saves his dignity by shoving his thumb between his teeth and biting down hard.

He doesn’t expect Creek to notice. He doesn’t expect Creek to gently take his wrist and pull his thumb free. Creek’s fingers are slightly sweaty from being inside the glove, but it’s the most tender brush of skin-on-skin Lucas has felt since boarding the Hephaestus .

“How long have you all been up here?”

Creek sighs. “The original timeline was fifteen months, but it’s been nearly eighteen.”

Lucas sucks his teeth. That’s longer than any duration he’s gone without sex; as a rather amorous person, he can’t imagine not being able to seek intimacy from anyone in his surroundings. No wonder they’re so touchy-feely with one another.

Shifting in what looks a bit like discomfort, but not entirely, Creek withdraws his touch. “Do you need help getting to wherever you’re going next?”

Though Lucas misses the contact fiercely, he forces himself to be very brave , to smile like an adult and say, “Actually, if you can send directions around the ship to my mobile comm, I think I’ll be alright. I’d like to check on Andi before lunch.”

With a nod, Creek says, “I’ll have Poe handle it.”

And, while he does end up being fine navigating the ship on his own, especially with the drug smothering the aphrodisiac’s effects, Lucas regrets being brave very, very much.

A t the start of the night cycle, Lucas sleeps fine. Mostly. Some weird dreams, then he wakes up at an ungodly hour soaked in sweat and needing to piss like crazy. After handling that, he notices Andi’s bunk empty. Lucas shoots them a quick text, but queues up the directions to the bridge immediately after.

Tim’s in his bunk, snoring behind the curtain. He’d been there already by the time the rest of the crew arrived after dinner, but Andi hadn’t been. Oliver had caught Lucas’s eyes before putting plugs in his ears, then tipped his head in the direction of Tim’s bunk. Lucas laughed quietly, then crawled into Oliver’s bunk and rolled around in his deliciously cool sheets like a happy puppy.

Now, though, bestie should be asleep. Obsessing over work is something Andi does often, so Lucas steals a sheet from Oliver’s bed—with only a little bit of shame—and wraps it around himself before sneaking out of the cabin. Without anyone around to judge him, Lucas doesn’t hold back from gliding down the halls, taking advantage of the partial-gravity to see how far he can jump before landing on slippered feet.

He only stops when a shadow falls across the entrance to the bridge, and he faces off with an amused-looking Andi.

“Having fun?”

Lucas grins. “Yes. You?”

Their expression turns dour. “Not in the least. The whole algo for the navigation system is fucked: there was some bug in the code for a recent update, and it borked the whole thing. And because this is a company ship, I can’t just fix the code myself. We have to hack it, because otherwise they’re stuck waiting for a shuttle to come out with a manual update key.” Andi sucks in a deep breath. “Right now, I’m trying to patch in a map from our navigation system, except since it’s all automatic, we have to reprogram?—”

He holds up a hand. “Andi, my love, my best best best best friend in the whole universe, it’s time to?—”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Go to bed.”

It takes a bit more bickering, but Andi acquiesces without causing a scene or waking anyone else up. They walk—normally, alas—down the halls back to the sleeping cabin, and Andi ends up the only person who’s escorted him somewhere today who hasn’t touched him at some point during.

Which reminds him.

“Uh, Andi? I was wondering if you’d noticed any… weird endocrinological symptoms since we came aboard.”

Andi tilts their head. “No, why?”

Lucas runs a hand back through his hair, laughing awkwardly. Maybe being as asexual as Andi is, they haven’t noticed the arousing effects of the vastpink mineral. That’s fine. Better they stay not knowing for now. Mostly so they can’t laugh at him. “Just an off feeling. Maybe I caught another stomach bug.”

The look they give Lucas suggests they don’t entirely believe him, but before Andi can subject him to more thorough questioning, a massive yawn cracks their jaw. With a sheepish grin, they open the cabin via the panel next to the door, and Lucas braces himself for the falling sensation when the full artificial gravity kicks in and drags his feet more firmly against the floor. Fortunately he isn’t wearing heavy shoes, and his soft-soled slippers don’t make any noise to disturb the exhausted crew.

Oliver’s bunk is the second from the wall to the right of the doorway, and Andi’s bunk is the farthest to the left. Before they part, Lucas smacks a playful kiss on the back of their hand, smothering a laugh at their disgusted expression before tip-toeing back to bed. Comfortable, he falls back asleep without issue, thankful for Creek’s solution for smothering the aphrodisiac’s effects.

When Lucas awakens, it’s several hours past breakfast, and he discovers himself to be a fucking mess.

No one is in the room, leaving Lucas sweating and feverish for only the stars know how long, until the door opens and someone’s arrival is heralded by the sound of their boots clomping heavily onto the floor at the threshold. The footsteps approach, then the curtain is drawn back, exposing Creek’s trim hips and elegant fingers.

Lucas might desire him more than he’s ever wanted someone else in his life; he’s fairly sure of this. Even without the mineral’s aphrodisiac effects, Lucas took one look at Creek with his stern features and mismatched eyes and knew he wanted to learn more about him. Get closer.

Now he wants to be much closer.

“Lucas,” Creek says quietly, lowering to sit on the edge of the mattress. He presses his wrist to Lucas’s forehead, and the skin-on-skin is sweet enough to make Lucas moan. Creek looks startled and jerks away, but Lucas catches his hand.

“Don’t,” he whispers.

“Don’t what?”

Lucas swallows hard, squirms on the bed. Adjusts his fingers so they’re interlaced with Creek’s. “Leave. Don’t leave me.”

“The drug shouldn’t have worn off so soon,” Creek murmurs. His blue eye clicks quietly as it dilates in the darkness and his free hand brushes Lucas’s damp auburn bangs out of his eyes. “I can try another?—”

Shaking his head, Lucas says, “I don’t want another shot.”

The tips of Creek’s ears redden. “Then…”

Lucas sits up, weaves his fingers into the long waves of Creek’s high ponytail, and rasps, “You like helping people. Help me .” Then he kisses him, whimpering at the first brush of Creek’s full, plush lips.

Creek returns the pressure very briefly, then leans back and places his forefinger on Lucas’s lips. Lucas immediately sucks it into his mouth, watching the way Creek’s adam’s apple works when he swallows. “Lucas, that wouldn’t be consensual?—”

He can’t help dropping his head back and laughing . “Creek, baby, I’ve wanted you since our first glance. It’s been months since another human touched me. Even without sex dust fucking up my endocrine system, I’d be gagging for you.” Maybe he wouldn’t have been so brash about it if he was flirting normally, but Lucas is in a state of desperation so he thinks this level of honesty is warranted.

“Gods,” Creek whispers. “You’re messy.”

Lucas grins, halfway to delirious but thrilled to be so close to getting what he wants. “Messy in a good or bad way?”

Creek thumbs away a drop of sweat that was coursing down the bridge of Lucas’s nose. Then after one more moment of consideration, he pushes his fingers into Lucas’s hair, makes a loose fist, and pulls him in for a searing open-mouthed kiss.

They fumble after that. Lucas is only wearing a sleep shirt and boxers, and the shirt is torn over his head quickly. He doesn’t have the wherewithal to fiddle with the buttons on Creek’s uniform shirt, so he pries his mouth away long enough to fumble the fastenings of his pants open instead. There’s nothing graceful about the way he pulls out Creek’s cock, already hard and leaking after only a few minutes of kissing. Stars know, it’s been even longer since he’s touched another man.

It’s burning hot at the apex of Lucas’s legs, and his thighs are wet where they rub together. Creek sneaks his hand under the waistband of Lucas’s underwear, getting a wide handful of his ass. Lucas groans just at the contact, how good it feels. He gives Creek’s cock a long stroke and relishes in the soft noise that elicits.

But he can do better.

Lucas kisses Creek again, quick and hot, then dips to take that long cock to the back of his throat. He attempts to do it in one stroke, but ends up gagging—it doesn’t help being out of practice. Even as Creek is petting his lower back and asking if he’s alright, Lucas tries again with more success.

As Lucas works, bobbing his head in time with his hand, Creek gives in to the pleasure and moans. It must be distracting enough that Lucas doesn’t hear the door opening, and doesn’t notice twin sets of footsteps until it’s too late and Oliver is yelping, “On my bed ?!”

Reality seeps in enough for Lucas to shoot upright, fumbling for an explanation that isn’t ‘ I was unbearably horny and talked him into it without thinking with anything but my dick .’ Even though that’s the truth.

Oliver storms past a silent, shocked Poe and grabs Creek by the arm, yanking him off the bed. Despite Creek being quite a bit larger than Oliver, he allows himself to be pulled without having time to put his dick away. Lucas offers Poe an apologetic wince then pops up to run after Oliver and Creek, relieved he didn’t get around to taking off his boxers.

Oliver roughly steers Creek to his own bunk, his fingers gone white clenching his bicep. “I knew you were inconsiderate as a rule,” he growls, his normally subdued timbre long gone, “but fucking a visitor on someone else’s bed is a step too far. Twenty leagues too far.”

“It was my fault!” Lucas shouts, springing forward to wave his hands between their chests, forcing distance. “I wasn’t thinking straight, I’m just…” He trails off, gaze dropping to where Creek’s erection hasn’t faded despite being yelled at and manhandled. A whimper crawls up his throat, which is a bit sore from having deep-throated said erection without any warm-up. He’s certain the crotch of his boxers has soaked through by now, what with him rocking his hips to increase pressure against his own cock.

The gesture isn’t subtle, and everyone’s eyes drop to where he’s pressed his hand, intending to approximate modesty. It backfires: he grinds against it instead, unable to resist the friction.

Poe’s tan skin flushes bright red and he licks his lips. “Lucas, I understand you’re in a predicament, but this isn’t exactly… professional.”

Lucas laughs, a fraction shy of hysterical. “This isn’t a mission, it’s an impromptu rescue. What’s there to be professional about?”

“He’s got you there,” Creek deadpans when Poe doesn’t appear to know what to say.

“This isn’t the place to fuck, if you absolutely must,” Oliver snaps. “It’s a communal space where we all live.”

Maybe the delicate nature of this encounter means Lucas should think a bit longer about how to respond, but instead he blurts the first thing that comes to mind: “Why don’t you two join in, then? It’ll be a communal… activity.”

Oliver’s wide, dark eyes meet Lucas’s, but while Lucas prepares himself for argument, the protest isn’t what he expects. With a scoff, Oliver says, “Right. Even if Creek apparently has the ability to fuck someone who isn’t himself, he wouldn’t do anything with me around.”

Lucas raises an eyebrow. “If that’s true, then why is he still hard?”

It’s a relief when the attention leaves Lucas’s crotch and settles on where Creek is, in fact, unashamedly aroused. That’s when Oliver realizes he’s still holding onto Creek’s arm. He jerks away like the contact burns, catching his paled fingers in the other hand.

Poe looks between Creek and his twin—who, Lucas reminds himself, is not Poe’s biological brother, because otherwise this would have gotten weird —and then, in an odd voice, he says to Creek, “Well?”

Creek considers him, then Lucas, then finally Oliver. “I’m so hard my dick could pound nails,” is all he says before seizing Oliver’s high collar and yanking him in close to plant a hungry kiss against his lips. Oliver doesn’t waste time on a protest; he clutches the front of Creek’s shirt and accepts his insistent tongue into his mouth.

Snorting, Poe looks at Lucas and whispers, “ Told you .”

Lucas snickers into his palm. While the other two men kiss like beasts, Lucas swans closer to Poe, who is smirking. Lucas trails a light touch from Poe’s wrists up to his broad shoulders, murmuring, “These are so fucking sexy.”

“I guess you’d like to see them up close?” Poe asks.

Shooting a glance over his shoulder at Creek, whose hair is down, having been torn out of the tie by Oliver’s rough ministrations, Lucas confirms they’re probably doing alright. That settled, he instructs, “Strip, sir.” As Poe laughingly obeys, Lucas has a quick debate with himself. Poe unbuttons his short-sleeved shirt like a respectable gentleman while his twin tears at Creek’s in an attempt to get him shirtless as well.

Lucas typically wears a layer of synthskin around his ribcage, covering his nipples and compressing the swells on his chest. But with so many participants, he reasons it’ll be fun to have a few more pleasure zones for the men to play with. So while Oliver and Creek fight over control of Oliver’s pants and Poe folds his shirt, muscles flexing deliciously, Lucas applies pressure to the seam over his sternum, releasing the grip the synthskin has on his skin. He peels it off with no shame or hesitation, releasing his small, reddened tits.

His nipples peak immediately, reacting to the cool air after being flattened against the warmth of Lucas’s core. Poe and Oliver’s eyebrows lift in unison, but Creek’s mouth twitches at the corner. He doesn’t stop the motion of his left hand, slowly jerking himself and Oliver as well, their dicks pressed together and already slippery. He simply reaches a long arm and pinches one of Lucas’s nipples.

“Get over here,” he orders, and Lucas is all too happy to obey.

Oliver takes over jacking himself and Creek, having to use both hands to cover their combined girth. He blushes at the sight of Creek bending to suck Lucas’s right nipple, squeezing the tiny peak of his breast to fit better in his mouth. Lucas moans, head falling back, exposing his neck for Poe’s mouth when he crowds against Lucas’s back. Poe sucks and kisses his throat, trailing sharp nips up the column until he can tug Lucas’s earlobe between his teeth.

While Lucas squirms against the hard plane of his chest, Poe slides a palm around his side, slowing to thumb his hipbone before plunging under his waistband. He wastes no time getting ahold of Lucas’s cock, poking up from between his slick folds, swollen and pulsing. Clever fingers circle the head before dipping lower to trace his slit.

“Is it okay to fuck you inside?” he asks.

“Yes, but not with your fingers,” Lucas responds, then yanks his boxers down and kicks them off. He shoves Creek away long enough to rip the curtain back from where it covers his neatly-made bed. Then he kneels, ass hanging out and knees spread to expose his throbbing cunt.

All Lucas hears behind him is muffled laughter before Creek says, “Alright,” and comes up behind him. He takes a tight grip on Lucas’s hips, massaging them as he contemplates Lucas’s offered body. “You like it hard?”

Oliver makes a sound . So does Lucas, accompanied by a quick nod.

“Good,” says Creek, notching the head of his cock against Lucas’s hole. He pushes in slowly but not mercifully, forcing Lucas to take the whole of his thick cock the way he swallowed it earlier. The stretch burns, and Creek gently rocks inside him until Lucas groans and wiggles to indicate his readiness. Then Creek pulls out and slams back in like he’s got something to prove.

The twins watch Lucas moan on Creek’s cock, taking the thorough fucking until an orgasm takes him, unexpected in its immediacy. Clearly he has underestimated the vastpink mineral dust’s power. Creek pulls out, then slaps Lucas’s soaked pussy gently, asking, “Giving up already?”

Lucas shakes his head emphatically. “ More .” It’s overwhelming, just the sensation of Creek continuing to fuck him so roughly right after he’s come, but he manages to not wail over it like a cat in heat until the mattress dips in two places. A glance on either side shows two naked men, mirrored as they crawl toward him. He feels hands petting his hair, stroking the length of his back. It’s nice, but gets much more interesting when Creek grabs him by the elbows and lifts his torso from the bed, baring his chest.

Poe, direct and determined, fuses his hot mouth around one of Lucas’s tits, and after a second, Oliver joins in with the other. Together they flick and lick his nipples, making Lucas twitch and jerk as Creek continues to fuck him, fingers bruising the tender inside of his arms.

Everything is amazing until, an indeterminate handful of minutes later, Ranger’s voice breaks through the sound of Lucas’s escalating moans.

“This is not what I expected to find when I went looking for my crew.”

Lucas can’t quite look over his shoulder in this position, so Creek obligingly sets him down, making sure each of the twins have him stabilized so he doesn’t fall on his face. Unlike the first introduction, Lucas doesn’t feel embarrassed or willing to accommodate a termination of their sexy little tangle. Not with the strange chemical flowing through his veins, making him feel bright and alive. If the crew were to reveal their discovery of this substance during the vastpink mining, the galaxy would go fucking insane to acquire and market it—but Lucas can think about that later.

For now, he knee-walks to the edge of Creek’s bed, accepting the man’s help when he makes a wobbly attempt to stand. Once certain he won’t fall, Lucas saunters up to Ranger, uncaring of his nudity. He looks the man up and down, from his boots to the highlights playing over the dark skin of muscular arms, landing on the half-amused smirk on his dusky lips.

Lucas sways a bit, and though he doesn’t think he’d have fallen, he more than welcomes Ranger’s hand catching the side of his neck, fingers pushing into his hair, auburn darkened with sweat.

“Technically, they aren’t your crew anymore,” Lucas informs him. “You fulfilled your contract terms, and all of you should be home by now.”

Snorting, Ranger says, “Not how that works, Captain Collingwood.”

Lucas shrugs. “Did you have an update on the situation, or can we get back to it?”

“Your engineer worked their magic manually programming a navigation course onto the console. We’ll be able to take off as soon as everyone is…” Ranger eyes his men. Poe and Oliver have scrunched their naked bodies behind Creek’s blanket, and Creek actually tucked his dick away, but none of the three look keen to break up the party. “In a decent state.”

“Decency is overrated,” Lucas says. “Anyhow, you’re welcome to join us, or else tell Andi and Tim to steer clear for the next… Well, when the noises stop, I suppose.”

Ranger traces the bottom of Lucas’s lip with his thumb. “You’re surprisingly filthy, Captain.”

“So I’ve heard. Still not filthy enough, by my estimation.” It wins him a robust chuckle, the pleasure from which settles in Lucas’s stomach and churns. “You could help. Or I’m going to have to escort you out.” Behind him, Poe breaks into laughter. Creek covers his eyes, but his red-tipped ears expose his embarrassment.

Fortunately, Ranger is a smart man who can tell when he’s lost a fight. “At least let me take my boots off instead of scattering them like these animals,” he says, gesturing at the twins who have, in fact, left their uniforms in piles of fabric on the floor. Lucas tails him to his bunk, watching intently as he undresses, putting each item of clothing away before moving to the next. Once naked, he folds his arms over his defined pectorals and tilts his head, his long locs draping over his shoulder. He’s still flaccid, but that’s okay.

Lucas knows how to fix that.

The floor is cold under his bare feet, and colder under his knees, but it’s worth it to see Ranger’s hazel eyes widen, pupils blowing at the sight. Shuffling tells him the other three have come out of hiding. He grins at the barely audible click of Creek’s cybernetic eye adjusting to give him a better view of Lucas leaning in to take Ranger’s soft cock between his lips.

He’s gentle with it, taking his time suckling the head and massaging his balls. Ranger sucks in a breath, then places both hands on Lucas’s head, palms wide and curving around his whole cranium. He doesn’t direct him; just holds on. By the time Ranger’s cock is erect, shiny with spit, the head rosy and curved up toward the ceiling, the rest of his crew have formed a circle around Lucas.

“Finally took off your pants,” Lucas snarks, then laughs when Creek grabs him by the hair, nowhere as gentle as Ranger, and drags Lucas’s mouth back to his neglected cock. Lucas relaxes his throat, welcoming Creek’s length all the way inside. He keeps one hand on Ranger’s dick, the other reaching out and finding Poe’s thigh, which he follows up to his primary target.

Splitting his attention between four dicks when he has a limited amount of hands and only one mouth makes for a bit of a challenge until Oliver drops to his knees beside him. Lucas accepts the quick kiss he plants on his lips, then makes space for Oliver to steal control of Creek’s cock. He laves his tongue over Creek’s balls while Oliver does his level best to match Lucas’s deep-throat skills. It’s not easy, and Oliver chokes more than a few times, but Creek is surprisingly gentle with him compared to his rough handling of Lucas.

He reroutes to switching between Ranger and Poe, until Ranger catches him under the arm and pulls him to his feet. “You’ve done enough work for the moment. Come let yourself be spoiled before we wreck the rest of you.” Ranger guides Lucas to lie on his bed, then wastes no time burying his face in his cunt.

Lucas barely has the presence of mind to gesture for Poe to come close enough to thrust his cock through the tunnel of Lucas’s fingers, holding his wrist steady while he fucks his hand. The other curls into the sheets, clawing as Ranger works his tongue against the head of Lucas’s cock. He’s merciless and driven, and another orgasm rips out of Lucas with twice the ferocity of the first.

But Ranger doesn’t fucking stop .

He thrusts two fingers into Lucas’s cunt, gathering wetness before smearing it lower. Lucas clenches and cries out, asshole clenching under the pads of Ranger’s fingers circling the entrance while he continues sucking his cock, bobbing his head shallowly.

“Relax,” Creek coaxes, even as he catches both of Lucas’s wrists and holds them together over his head.

Lucas squeals and thrashes, bucking up against Ranger’s mouth. “I can’t!” he cries when Creek shushes him.

“Grab his knees,” Ranger tells the twins, who don’t hesitate to obey their leader’s instructions. Once Lucas is fully secured Ranger switches to fucking his tongue gently against his rim, slippery fingers jacking his over-sensitive cock at the same time.

“It’s too much!”

But Lucas’s protests gain nothing from Ranger but laughter, breath hot against the throbbing folds of his pussy. Tears streak paths down Lucas’s cheeks and he thrashes with his full strength when Ranger returns his mouth to his cock, tongue circling again and again. He manages to get his slicked littlest finger inside Lucas’s asshole, and he clenches around it. The other three men have Lucas wholly trapped, so he has nowhere to go when Ranger fucks his remaining three fingers into his cunt and pumps all four viciously.

Lucas is on a precipice, wailing as he tries to escape, then leans into the overwhelming pleasure, bucking his hips down before attempting fruitlessly to escape once more. And failing, of course. Creek pinches and smacks his tits, commenting on them with a lazy, “These are so cute,” which Lucas registers but barely hears over his own sobs.

Thinking his second orgasm was intense leaves him utterly unprepared for the next one Ranger forces out of him. Lucas comes with a scream, back arching and vision being swallowed by piercing white sparks. After the pressure eases, he remains tormented by aftershocks. Then Ranger flops at Lucas’s side and kisses him with a mouth coated in the slick that gushed out of him—which has never happened before. It’s salty and a bit sweet, and Lucas sucks the taste off Ranger’s tongue while he gently wipes tears from his cheeks.

When Ranger pulls back, he murmurs against Lucas’s lips, “Please accept that as a token of my gratitude for helping us get our ship back on course.”

“Fuck you,” Lucas says, but he still laughs.

“Wrung out yet?” Poe wonders, idly stroking himself.

Lucas takes stock of his numb limbs, twitching fingers, and leaking cunt. “No,” he decides. “Not on your life.”

“Good,” Poe says. “Because I want a shot at that pussy.”

T he next time Lucas has a straightforward thought, it’s while watching Creek pump his two middle fingers in and out of Oliver’s ass while Oliver jerks himself, crooning, “Come on, O’. Unless you’ve decided you still hate me.”

Oliver’s response is unintelligible, but Poe’s content to reveal his twin’s secrets, saying, “He never hated you. He was just mad because he thought you didn’t like him back.”

Oliver glares until Creek crooks his fingers, applying pressure to his prostate. “Eyes on me,” he orders.

Underneath Lucas’s cheek, Poe’s chest rumbles with laughter. He’s stroking Lucas’s hair, watching with great amusement as Creek wrecks his twin.

Ranger laughs too, but breathlessly, as he’s still working his cock in and out of Lucas’s ass, having finally stretched him enough to take it. His locs brush Lucas’s back as he rocks, grunting with effort as he gets close. “Gonna come inside you,” he warns.

“You’ll have to clean it up after,” Lucas responds lazily, squeezing his cheeks around Ranger’s length and being rewarded with another slap to his sore ass cheek.

He’s been thoroughly wrung out. After two more orgasms Lucas barely feels human. He’s floating, whole body thrumming with pleased exhaustion after having sweat and squirted the mineral’s effects out of his system. Creek says he can’t promise a second wind won’t hit, but Lucas wouldn’t be entirely opposed if one did.

Ranger’s rhythm stutters, thrusts picking up intensity until he comes with a strangled cry, heat pulsing inside Lucas’s ass. He moans with it, more out of emotional relief than physical pleasure. Everyone else has come already—Poe inside his cunt and Creek across his tits, which he made Oliver lick up while he jerked him. Ranger held out, though, waiting until Lucas was thoroughly used before taking his ass while he declined to do anything but lounge lazily on Poe’s chest.

Oliver cries out a moment later, come shooting from his tip so hard he hits himself in the chin. He continues to writhe while Creek milks him, not letting up, so come continues to ooze from his cock until he’s squirming and whimpering. Creek is much nicer to Oliver than he is to Lucas, so he withdraws his fingers, then licks a line of come off Oliver’s chest. He leans over, and Lucas opens his mouth obligingly so Creek can feed it to him, tongues tangling. Once he’s swallowed, Creek kisses his cheek like a proper gentleman, and allows Lucas to go boneless on Poe’s chest.

Slowly, the four men disengage, leaving Lucas in a fucked-out sprawl on Ranger’s bed. A combination of someones wipe him down, getting him cleaned up before Creek scoops Lucas into his arms and carries him back to Oliver’s bed, which remains mostly clean.

Ranger reappears, fully dressed and unruffled. He smirks at Lucas, then tilts his fingers in a smug salute. “Thanks again for your services, Captain Collingwood. I need to check on my engineer, and collect the rest of my crew to prepare for departure. Should I tell your companion you’ve survived?”

Lucas laughs weakly. He’s not sure how to face Andi after this, but short of leaving with the mining team, he doesn’t have a way to avoid it. “You can tell them, yeah.” Lucas probably ought to make himself decent, so he begins feeling around for his clothes. He finds his shirt, then frowns. “Where did my binder go?” he asks, patting the sheets around him. “I threw it on the bed.”

Creek snorts. “You threw it on my bed, Lucas.”

“I’ll fetch it,” says Oliver, winning an amused—maybe promising—smirk from Creek.

Lucas crumples his shirt against his chest, waiting for Oliver to arrive with his binder. Exposing his breasts for sexual purposes is different than having a conversation with them hanging out. Idly, he comments, “We really got around, didn’t we.”

“Always said this room has too many beds in it,” Poe says, looking around. “Split them up and we’d get more privacy.”

“More privacy means fewer impromptu gang bangs,” Ranger points out cheekily.

As Oliver turns the corner of the bunk, Creek deadpans, “Oh, how will we go on.”

“With significantly drier dicks,” Lucas says noncommittally while reaching out to accept his binder and boxers from Oliver. He quickly wraps the synthskin around his back, placing the flaps against his chest and waiting for it to meld, pressing his breasts flat against his sternum once more. Then he wriggles into his underwear, followed by tugging his shirt over his head. As his head passes through the grey fabric, a thought occurs. “Hey,” he says, fumbling while seeking the left armhole. “I thought of something.”

The four men turn to regard Lucas, all of them dressed, though none looking as put-together as Ranger. They wait expectantly for Lucas to formulate his next sentence, which as fatigue from the last hour or so begins creeping up on him, becomes more difficult than it sounds.

“Your return is already delayed, so no one’s going to know if you linger here a bit longer.”

Ranger cocks a brow. “Why would we do that?”

Lucas’s lips spread in a lazy grin. “Because I guarantee that a pumped-up aphrodisiac made of sexy asteroid mineral dust would sell for damn near as much as all the vastpink you’ve mined, and I’m suspecting your contract doesn’t say anything about turning over any discoveries to the company other than the crystals. You should collect some before leaving. Just a suggestion.”

Then Lucas flops face-first back into the pillows, an exhausted exhale punching out of him. Ranger says something else, but Lucas doesn’t process the words. He hums in a weak attempt at acknowledgement, then lets the intoxicating scent of Oliver’s sheets drag him down into a satisfied sleep.