Even basic necessities tended to be a luxury for their group — the poor bastards that inhabited the broken planet did their best to provide them with food, water and whatever other supplies they needed, but more often than not they were too busy trying to not get killed to be a reliable source of anything. That meant that besides being limited to what they could get out of their raids and ambushes, most of the time they had to share whatever there was; eventually, they had come up with a simple solution to the distribution of the spoils: if anyone wanted alcohol or cigars, they'd have to beat him to them, and rock music and usable black leather were his, unless that person wanted their face to get acquainted with his fist.
And though the system usually worked just fine, Lycus' problem with it had a name: Schneider.
Not only was his mere presence an annoying reminder that he still hadn't gotten his mixtape back and he probably never would, the little shit had done everything in his power to be a bother ever since he arrived. While Lycus didn't give a flying fuck about whether he followed Mikah and Aneska like a starved dog, or that he picked fights with Kuzmann and Konstantin about nerdy shit that nobody except for them cared about, Schneider had also gotten into the habit of endlessly bitching about Lycus' share, generally right before something of his went missing or changed places.
So when it turned out that he couldn't find the leather jacket he had just gotten a couple of days ago, he knew exactly where to look.
“Ayana! Have ya seen Schneider?”
"You know what Harec thinks about you beatin' that boy senseless."
"I wouldn't have to beat him up if he stopped messing with my shit. Have ya seen him or not?"
Ayana rolled her eyes.
"He's at the back."
That was definitely Schneider's voice, but there was a familiar lack of breath to it. Instead of walking into the chamber right away, Lycus stopped for a moment to listen.
“Hngh. Yes, yes.”
He knew it, the little bastard was jerking off in there! Probably thinking about Aneska, or some other bitch that he’d never be able to fuck in his entire sorry life.
Lycus grinned. With some luck, he’d get to scare the living shit out of that brat.
"Schneider! Stop playing with yer dick and give me my jacket!"
Oh, Schneider had his jacket alright.
In the second it had taken Lycus to move from one side of the wall that separated the chamber from the rest of the temple to the other, Schneider had sat up, moving the piece of leather away from his face and throwing it on top of his lap to cover his erection. There was absolutely no other way to interpret what he was seeing; Schneider hadn't been stealing his shit just to piss him off, apparently he had also been doing it to use it as masturbation material.
Lycus took a good look at him.
He had never given much thought to the kid — or rather, whenever he did, it had always involved bashing his head against the nearest surface, breaking his fingers, or otherwise inflicting pain on Schneider until he felt that he had more or less paid for throwing away his music. Yet, this close and seeing him with his skin flushed and with an expression that made him look like a deer caught in the headlights, it occurred to him that Schneider wasn’t actually that bad; he was young, but he was more than already grown in all the places Lycus liked, and his whiny voice was much more tolerable when it was letting out sounds of pleasure instead of insults or half-assed treats.
And shit, it had been way too long since he had gotten laid. A hand was nothing compared to a warm, willing body.
With that, his libido won and Lycus stepped forward, grabbing Schneider by the bottom of his suit and pulling him forward until it came off and he was completely naked. Schneider's immediate reaction was to try to kick him to get him to back off, but Lycus just had to tighten his grip to keep him in place, and after that he had little trouble getting him to raise his legs until they were no longer touching the floor.
“Ya have three seconds to look at me and tell me ya don’t want this.”
“Don’t act like ya don’t know what ya were doing.” Lycus slid his hands down Schneider’s thighs, delighting in the shiver he got in response. “Last chance before I start fucking ya so hard ya’ll be walking funny tomorrow.”
Schneider finally seemed to understand exactly what was happening, and his expression turned into a smirk as he picked up the jacket from his lap and threw it aside.
"Is zhat a promise, tin can?"
Lycus knew that in reality, he didn't have to try that hard, Schneider had the word virgin written all over his stupid face, so having an orgasm from getting touched by another, living person would probably be enough of a victory for him. But the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of Schneider looking back at this exact moment and remembering how much he had enjoyed riding his dick, fuck, he would get to remember Schneider looking utterly wrecked whenever the kid decided to act stupid.
He leaned forward and undid his belt, stroking his cock with one hand while he used his other one to keep Schneider's right arm in front of him.
He'd had more than enough practice with his prosthetics to know he could get someone ready without hurting them, but Schneider was so darn twitchy that Lycus didn't trust him to not move or flinch and kill the mood. Instead, he ran his tongue between Schneider's fingers, closing his mouth around until the tip of his teeth brushed against the skin there, and making Schneider's eyes dart back and forth between his crotch and face.
If he hadn't been hard already, the look of arousal on the little brat's face, mixed with the hint of worry caused by knowing that Lycus could just bite down at any moment and rid him of half of his right hand, would have been enough to give him an erection.
Finally, when he felt that the fingers were covered in enough spit for it to start running down Schneider's wrist, Lycus lowered his arm until both of their hands where at Schneider's entrance. He was biting his lower lip now, letting out small gasps as Lycus used his own fingers to push his against the muscle there, showing him the proper motion.
"Relax, and don't stop until ya can fit three fingers in there."
"Y—you're not zhat big."
"Because ya get fucked in the ass so often? Do it, shithead."
Then, Schneider either decided to prove that he could handle it on his own or started getting impatient, because it took him about a second to shut his mouth and lean slightly to the side so he could reach better, rocking his hips as he picked up the pace.
Lycus stopped focusing on what Schneider was doing for a moment and instead turned his attention back to his body. He doubted that Schneider would be able to tell him where to touch even if he did ask, so he saved himself the bother and just went straight to putting his hands on each side of his chest, drawing circles with his thumbs as Schneider's breathing got heavier.
"I'm ready. Stop—ah! stop screwing around and put it in."
Anticipating yet another complaint, Lycus held Schneider's legs open by his knees, then lined up his dick with his entrance and pushed into him with one single, quick movement.
Schneider was a fast learner, and after just a couple of thrusts, he already had a good idea of how to arch his back to make it easier for Lycus to hit the correct spot. It wouldn't have surprised him in the least if Schneider had come right then, but even through the gasps and pants, he was still managing to hold on; somehow, the kid even found strength to wrap his legs around Lycus' hips, hitting his back with his ankles.
"Harder, you bastard! Come on!"
Lycus pulled back as much as he could, then thrusted forward using all the weight of his body. Schneider's moans practically became a wail, and he could feel his nails digging into his back, almost as if Schneider was trying to match the same intensity with which he was being fucked.
"I don't know what gave ya that impression, but ya ain't in charge here, Schneider."
He kept up the pace, careful of not going neither as fast nor as hard as he was able to because he didn't actually want to break the kid, until he saw Schneider turn his head away. Lycus didn't stop, but he did slow down as he moved one of his hands under Schneider's chin and made sure that they were looking straight at each other.
"No, yer going to look at me. Show me how much yer enjoying it."
He felt Schneider tense around him, and not even a second later, there was warm splurt between them. Schneider's lips were swollen and bleeding now, and Lycus couldn't resist the urge to lean down and press their mouths together as he also came.
“Darn, that was good.”
Schneider let out a needy moan as he pulled out of him. He tried to disguise it with a grunt, but between his stomach and tights being covered in sweat and come, and how he was clearly still having trouble catching his breath, any attempts of looking anything but well-fucked fell flat.
"In... my head... you vent on longer."
They both had plenty of energy left in them, but Schneider was loud and they had taken quite a bit of time already; now that he knew the brat was a decent lay, he'd rather enjoy him properly (and Lycus was already getting ideas—with the way he ran his mouth, he'd probably do a darn good job at sucking cock, and wouldn't he look great bent over some hard surface?) at some other time and not put up with the bitching of the rest team for fucking him right in the storage room. If Blondie or the Russian caught them, he'd never hear the end of it.
So, he simply picked up Schneider's suit from the floor where he had left it and used it to wipe himself before throwing it to him.
“Vhat zhe hell? These are my fucking clothes, dude!"
"I thought ya wouldn't mind. Since yer washing my jacket anyway."
Schneider flipped him off, but since he had nothing else to say about it, Lycus knew they'd be doing this again very, very soon.