Johnny Gat is a force of nature. An unstoppable, driving element.
You went into his mind -- a world of pixelated side-scrollers -- only to find him kicking ass on his own merit. As a familiar figure shoved a Bowie knife into the skull of one of the Zin soldiers, your eyes lit up. He plucked the shades off the Zin and pushed them up the bridge of his nose. And there, in all his naked, goo-slicked glory, was Johnny Gat; the man you thought was dead, the friend that has seen you through thick and thin, the lover you'd missed for years.
You spied Johnny playing with his knife, lent up against a wall. Huffing out a nervous breath, you squared your shoulders and steeled yourself, stepping toward him and making your presence known.
"Johnny." You stated, trying to sound serious and confident and-- God, it wasn't working. Gat moved from his spot, turning the knife in his hands as his face lit up, eyes landing on you from behind his classic shades.
"Hey, Boss. How--" He started but you held up a hand, swallowing thickly. Oh, fuck. Oh, shit. You were really going to do it.
"Just shut up. I have to tell you something." You blurted out and he fell silent, brows knitting in confusion. "For years, I thought you were dead and I blamed myself for it. When you were gone, there was a hole in my life that I tried to fill with anything I could find; partying, sex, revenge." Taking a breath, you wet your lips and your gaze drifted from him. "Sometimes a weird combination of the three." You were brought back to focus when he laughed softly, a low sound that rumbles through his chest. "But nothing worked... Nothing ever made me feel alive like you did... And I always thought it was just because I was depressed but seeing you, now, has made me realise...how much I need you." You explained and, even though you were together before he 'died', it's something that needed to be said. "I know, I'm not Aisha..." At her name, Johnny's face fell and he started to approach you, broad shoulders ready for a fight. You backed away a couple of steps, expecting a punch. "And I'm not trying to be but if--" Gat captured your lips, arms wrapped around your middle, as he kissed you eagerly. When you parted for air, he held your jaw, tilting your head to look at him.
"Listen; Aisha was..." He sighed. "Aisha just was. You and her are different. C'mon, Boss, you know I'm no good at talkin' about this stuff." Johnny looked torn, trying to explain his feelings which isn't something he tends to do. "Just know that...I like you a lot, yeah?"
During the evening, you had invited Johnny to drop by your room before bed. You were straddling Johnny's lap, grinding down against him as you made out. You'd stripped out of your suit, only in your vest and a pair of tight briefs, but Johnny had stayed in his flight suit.
"Remember how I always wanted you to tie me up?" You asked and he chuckled lowly.
"I mean, yeah but that was years ago, Boss." He replied, strong fingers curled around your hips as he lent in to press his lips against your collar. Every contact felt like he was touching you for the first time. Even the chaste kiss pressed to the crook of your neck felt wonderful and you had to grip onto the back of his neck to stay grounded. "Were you always this needy?" He asked teasingly and you shook your head breathlessly.
"Listen, Gat, I've not fucked a single person since I thought you fucking died." You explained, frustration, embarrassment and loss underlying what you hoped to be a teasing retort but it just came out...sad.
"I'm sorry, Boss." Johnny sighed, a hand leaving your hip to cup your jaw. "I didn't think you gave that much of a shit."
"Yeah? Well, don't let it go to your head." You replied, unable to resist the draw of his soft lips. Johnny kissed you, deep and slow, licking his way into your mouth and wrapping his arms around you. You were completely enveloped by his warm embrace, groaning as he took your bottom lip between his teeth and worried the flesh until it was sore and swollen. Leave it to Johnny Gat to restore any semblance of sexuality in a moment while you just made it depressing.
"Anyway. You were talking about bondage or somethin'." He stated when he pulled away, leaving you breathless and wanting.
"Fuck... Umm... Well, for like ages, we talked about doing a kind of...scene? Sorry, Gat. It's been a while." You explained sheepishly, watching your reflection in his trademark shades. You looked needy and embarrassed and-- Had he always been this hot or were you just being weird about not seeing your fuck buddy-come-boyfriend for five years.
"Oh, yeah, I remember. You wanted me to tie you up and gag you and call you names and shit, right?" He asked and you winced. It sounded weird when he put it like that.
"Well...yeah." Having sex with Johnny Gat is -- or, was -- pretty much the dream of anybody in Stilwater, after all. He took in a breath before removing his hands from your body completely, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Sorry, Boss... I just..." He sounded so helpless. "I was just...thinkin' a lot about Aisha, back there. Her and you and me and I..." After a brief moment of shck, you went to move off him, heart sinking in your chest. You only just found him and now he didn't want you. When he felt you beginning to move, he grasped your waist, warm, brown eyes gazing up at you like you were some kind of god. "Not like that." He clarified, leaning to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "I just mean it might take me some time, y'know?" He asked and you nodded, planting a kiss to his forehead. It was rare that you got this emotional around Johnny and actually *talked* about your relationship but you aren't complaining. "Still gonna tie you up and fuck you until you scream, at some point, though." He stated, nuzzling his face into the crook of you neck. Still the same Johnny Gat.
That was about two months ago and he's always getting better.
You go to make some coffee, the sleeves of your flight suit tied around your waist. No-one's going to be up at this hour so your state of undress is more than acceptable. A pair of arms wrap around your midsection, tightening as you jolt in his grip. You recognise Johnny's scent, even under the clinical smell of the recycled air.
"Mornin', Boss." He breathes, running his lips along the length of your throat. You sigh at the feeling, hands stopping to brace against the kitchen counter. His embrace it tight and warm and welcoming.
"Mister Gat, is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" You tease and he turns you in his arms, pinning your hips against the counter.
"Seeing as I'm not wearing any pants, I'll leave that to you." He purrs before he pulls you back to bed, without your coffee (probably for the best at 3 am).
You've not been wanting to push Johnny into sex, despite how much you want him. Letting him recover slowly and giving him moral support has been the main plan over the last month; holding him, sleeping in the same bed, etc. It's felt like a long road to get him back to normal but it'll be worth it.
You realise as such when he lowers you onto the bed with him, fingers threading through your hair as he kisses you hungrily, demanding entrance into your mouth. Parting your lips, he moves you to straddle his legs, your palms pressed to the mattress on either side of his broad, muscular shoulders. Johnny grinds up against you, hands gently holding your jaw to keep your head in place while he efficiently explores all that he can of your mouth, reacquainting himself with your body.
"Fuck, Johnny... I forgot how good you feel..." You manage as he palms his way up your chest, rubbing your sides and exploring your body thoroughly. His fingers find the dips of new scars and marks, taking the time to trace over them with his fingers as you reciprocate the kiss, chasing his tongue with your own. A groan escapes his throat as you meet the roll of his hips.
"Same here." He huffs as you part breathless.
Sitting up, you display the canvas of your chest, biceps and neck and Johnny sits up to take a closer look. Smooth skin, some marred by scars, but still clear of most marks, save for the Saints tattoo on your left pec.
"... We've got a lot of work to do." He smirks and you cock your head as his hands resume their exploration.
"What do you--" Gat latches his mouth against your throat, sucking some skin between his teeth and rolling it on his jaw. "Fuuuuuck, Johnny..." You sigh, reaching up to bury your hand in his hair, pressing his mouth against you harder. Your hips buck down against his and you feel him shudder slightly. When he pulls away, there's a bright red mark against the right side of your throat.
"How 'bout that, Boss. Look at how pretty that is." Johnny sighs, pressing a kiss to the mark as you swallow thickly.
"... Christ, Johnny..." The air feels like it's been sucked from your body, leaving you winded and breathing heavy against his shoulder.
Johnny holds you steady as he helps you wriggle out of your flight suit and resume your place in his lap. The heat of his cock pressed against your ass feels all too good and all too familiar as you rock your hips down and he sucks in a breath, forehead pressed to the centre of your chest as sweat begins to bead across your skin.
"They look so damn pretty on you, Boss." He huffs, tilting his head to leave a similar mark on your collar bone, the bruise blossoming across the skin as your breath catches in your throat. His teeth on you feel like heaven as his hands move to grab your ass, feeling you grind down against his cock, already thick and weeping heavily onto the sheets. His precome helps the slide of your skin against his as he leaves another mark against the crook of your neck.
"Holy fuck..." A groan escapes Johnny as he glances over the small collection of marks he's left on you, some bigger, some darker but all of them claiming you as his.
Johnny presses his fingertips to your lips in a silent demand: suck. You accept the long, slender digits into your mouth, coating them with as much saliva as you can as he sucks another mark against the very front of your throat, feeling your adam's apple vibrate under his mouth as you moan. Your tongue traces the knuckles of his fingers as you fellate them, grinding back onto his cock desperately.
"O-ee?" You try and murmur around his fingers and he laughs against your skin, removing his fingers and allowing you to talk as he sucks and bites at your skin. "I missed you." You sigh. He deems his fingers slick enough, manoeuvring his arms a little to rub the pads of his fingertips against your ass.
"You haven't had anything back here in five years, having my thick, eight inches is gonna be a shock to the system so we gotta prep you good." Johnny purrs against your clavicle, slowly beginning to work his fingers into you. He always did take good care of you, during and after sex. You grind down against his fingers, trying to push past the discomfort of the stretch and into the pleasurable buzz that you always use to feel when he fingered your ass. Inch by inch, Gat works his fingers in, twisting every so often to get a new angle and to stretch you out a little. When he gets them both into you fully, he withdraws them then pushes them back in, beginning to scissor his fingers in and out, loosening the muscle bit by bit. All the while, he has his lips by your ear. "So needy for my cock, Boss. You're gaggin' for it, huh?" At his words and at the strange intrusion that soon turns to a warm sensation pooling in your belly, your breath comes in shuddering gasps. "Fuck, Boss. You feel so good back here. Gonna feel so good around my cock, aren't you?"
"Jesus, fuck... Holy shit, Johnny..." He crooks his fingers against the walls of your insides, dragging his fingertips against your prostate and you buck back uncontrollably against his ministrations.
"That's the spot, hm?" Gat hums as he mercilessly begins to target that spot, feeling you open up for him as your cock smears precome over his abdomen. His hand slows as your voice grows louder and he gently pulls his fingers from your body, wiping them off on the sheets.
Slowly, Gat tilts your head down to capture your lips, moaning against your trembling lips as you roll your ass back against his cock. You don't know how long either of you will last, this being your first real fuck in five fucking years. The kiss is furious and demanding and you give into it, melting against his touch and obeying the orders his hands give you. When you have to part for air, he presses his forehead against yours and you sigh blissfully, this is the Johnny you remember; sexy as fuck, horny as Hell and damn near impossible to resist. Your nights tended to be like this, two or three quick-fire rounds and then sleep, so there's a sense of familiarity of the whirlwind of pleasure and words and sounds.
"Johnny Gat... Get your fucking eight-inch cock in me, right now..." You breathe and he chuckles breathily, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.
On all fours, on the edge of the bed, you hear Gat squeeze some lube into his palm, listening to the slick way he gives his impressive cock a few pumps to coat it in lube. He sandwiches his cock between the cheeks of your ass, grinding against your hole and making you whine. He rocks the length of his cock against your entrance before slowly pressing the blunt head in. The stretch sure is more than his fingers but the burn is expected and welcomed as you push your hips back, Johnny grabbing onto your pelvis to push his length into you.
"Oh, fuck..." You whimper, burying your face in the sheets as he inhales deeply, feeling your hot, wet, tight body fully swallow his cock down to the root.
"You're so tight, Boss." He growls, slowly beginning to pull out and push in, building to a slow rhythm as he allows you to get used to his size. Even as the pain dissipates, you can feel him rearranging your insides, cock pressing against the inside of your abdomen. "Fuck, yeah... I forgot how good you feel inside, Boss... So wet and tight, all stretched around my cock, moaning like a fuckin' whore." His dirty talk makes (what little is left of) your resolve crumble.
"D-Don't say...embarrassing shit like that... Just fuck me, Gat." You manage as he peppers wet, open-mouthed kisses down your spine. Reaching for your wrists, Johnny twists your arms behind you, using your arms as leverage to pull you back roughly against his cock. His hands around your wrists yank you back, as he bucks forward, dragging the head of his cock over your prostate and sending a flush of warmth through your body as he does it again and again and again. He pulses inside you and the slick skin-on-skin sound fills the room as well as your whines of pleasure and his low moans.
"Fuck, yeah, Boss...!" You hear him as he tugs you back onto his cock, every thrust punching the air forcibly from your lungs.
"Johnny! Fuck! Yes!" You feel your neglected cock leaking onto the sheets as you feel Johnny Gat's huge, thick cock fill you to the brim. The way his fingers tighten around your wrists, like he's trying to break them, lets you know that he's not going to last.
"I'm...comin', Boss! F-Fuck!" His thrusts turn sloppy and out-of-sync as he spends inside you, filling you with his come that floods your insides. You whine as he spills into you, bucking into you. "H-H-Holy shit..." He stammers, holding your body flush to his as he rides out the aftershocks of his orgasm. A drawn-out whimper escapes your throat as he pulls out, his cock softening as is slides from your body. Panting, Johnny releases you and turns you over, eyes drinking in the sight of you behind his shades. Chest heaving, fingers trembling, face blushing, cock leaking and lips mumbling. He leans down to kiss you, wrapping a hand around your cock and you buck into his palm. "C'mon, Boss, come for me... Come for Johnny..." He breathes against your lips and you swear you blackout for a moment, shuddering and bucking and gasping as you spill over Gat's perfect fingers.
"F...Fuck, Johnny..." You gasp as he continues to pleasure you through your orgasm. As the shivers subside, Gat licks his fingers clean, tasting you on his tongue as he lies down and hugs you to his chest. The both of you are exhausted and fall into a sound sleep.
Safe to say, when you wake up, get dressed and incidentally show off the myriad of dark marks that Johnny left on your throat, most of the folks on the ship just roll their eyes and scoff. Shaundi, knowing you probably didn't mean to show off all your hickeys to the entire ship, approaches you.
"Listen, everybody heard what you and Johnny were up to last night, cowboy. No need to show it off too." She chuckles and you reach up to your neck, feeling the heat of the bruises under your fingers.
"Oh, shit! Oh, fuck!" You hiss, desperately trying to cover them up with your hands as Johnny saunters by, sending you and Shaundi a knowing glance.