Work Header


Work Text:

Gage knows Connor looks at him. Sometimes.

Connor looks at everyone, if only for a moment. That's part of being the boss, right? Having some idea of who is writhing under your command? Gage has learned that fast. And Connor sure as hell knows who Gage is, because even at nineteen, Gage can't keep his damn mouth shut.

Gage can't help it. He sees what's wrong and he says something about it. Otherwise, they're all in line for an early grave. And Gage didn't decide to be a raider to get put six feet under. He joined up so he could take what he had earned. Grab it fiercely with both hands and hold it close.

So Connor looks at Gage sometimes. Mostly when Gage is running his mouth. When Gage has something to say, Conner will grab him by the arm, yanking him away from the others so they can’t hear. Connor’s hand fits all the way around Gage’s forearm, fingers touching on the other side.

Connor’s fucking huge, and Gage can't do a fucking thing about the fact his growth spurt is late in coming. He's not even the youngest person in the gang. There are a couple of fourteen year olds, and then a ten year old girl, both her parents refused to send her away as an infant and they refuse it now too, though the others think the girl is a drain. But point is, other than the literal little girl, Gage is probably still the smallest. But he’ll get bigger, soon.

But sometimes Connor will look at Gage when he's quiet too. When Gage isn’t talking. When he thinks Gage doesn't notice. Gage tried looking back once, holding Connor’s stare, bright and blue, trying to figure out what Connor wanted. But Connor got furious when he was caught, standing up off the petrified log and storming off while Gage kept on sorting through mixed ammunition crates they lifted in the last raid.

Thing about Gage, though, is he's not an idiot. He figures things out pretty quickly, because Connor looks again. Connor doesn't like looking, but he can't stop. Gage doesn’t want him to stop, heat flaring in his belly.

What Connor definitely likes is all the bits of strategy that Gage slips in with his rambling suggestions. He’s comfortable enough using the kid’s brain to his advantage. After a while, Connor can admit how much he values Gage’s advice. He's got a good head for this. They're gonna go far. Gage smiles when Connor tells him these things. Feels fucking good.

When the gang camps for the night, sometimes, Gage can hear the girl of the moment, riding Connor’s cock. Doesn't matter who she is, she’ll pant and moan, almost screaming towards the end. Gage doesn't know if she's genuine or not. Because the girls change but the noises don't. And while Connor is a big man, he's sort of clumsy. He's slow to reload his rifle and sometimes he gets snagged on table corners when they're inside people's houses. But maybe he is that good, to make em scream.

Gage thinks about it a lot. More than he should. He starts thinking about what those hands would feel like wrapped around his hips.

They're talking about the next raid, just him and Connor, on a settlement to the west, when Gage decides to be a little stupid.

Because it's just the two of them, talking about the layout of the settlement and how many guns and guys there's sure to be. The weather is warm and last night Gage touched himself to the sound of Connor’s girl, wishing it were him.

Gage steps closer and comes up on his toes, putting his lips to Connor’s, dry and hard and tasting like cigarettes and the bitter bite of jet. He expects it, when Connor pushes him away, rubbing at his lips with his hand, as if Gage is something dirty.

Or forbidden.

Because Connor grabs Gage by the front of his shirt, yanking him towards the nearest building. It's little more than an abandoned shack, a blight upon the Wastes. Earlier, they'd determined it unsuitable for shelter, and set up camp a little further down the hill. But shoddy as it is, the busted down house will give them a little privacy from the elements.

“That how you want it?” Connor asks, once they're inside, but he's still a little wide-eyed and unsure.

Gage is certain, “Yeah,” but he's hesitant now to touch. Because while he thinks Connor wants this too, wants him, thinks he's smart and useful and fucking attractive, that doesn't mean he’ll let himself act on it.

Connor grabs him by the shoulders, spinning Gage around and slamming him into the wall. It's hard, but not enough to damage. Gage keeps his face pressed against the slowly rotting wood.

Connor’s weight is heavy against his back, the length of his longer, bigger body pressed against Gage’s, keeping him pinned. Grinding his hips against Gage’s ass, Connor asks, “You been taken before? Spreading your legs for anyone else in the gang?”

“No,” Gage responds. But he's also too proud to admit that when he kissed Connor, that was the first time too. “But…”

“But what?” Connor is already fumbling with Gage’s belt, whipping it out of the loopholes of his jeans and shoving his pants down. He wraps both hands around Gage’s slim waist, holding him with so little effort. His hands look huge and pale against Gage’s naked skin.

“I know what I can take,” Gage shoves his hips back against Connor’s crotch, reveling in how Connor’s breath catches at the friction. Makes Gage feel wanted, powerful, as Connor slips his hands over Gage’s bare ass, grabbing hold to what little flesh he has and squeezing tight.

“I bet you do,” Connor rasps, trying to work a dry finger into Gage’s hole.

Gage hisses at the intrusion, “You gotta,” he bites his lip, “I'm not a girl.”

“You think I don't fuck my girls like this too?” Connor chuckles.

At that, Gage relaxes a bit. Because as many women as he's seen Connor take to bed, they all look happy in the morning. None of them have ever screamed in anything approaching pain. Gage can tell the difference. Connor might be an asshole, and a murderer, and all the things a raider needs to be. But he's not...that. Gage wouldn't be so interested in Connor if he were.

“But I ain’t got nothing to make you good and slick,” he’s still thumbing Gage’s hole, keeping him spread open with the other hand. Connor’s thumb is fat and calloused, and even having it just dip inside, Gage knows he wants more.

Because maybe, if Connor starts looking at him all the time, Gage will have to worry less about him looking at anyone else.

“So,” Connor continues, “Either we don’t do this, or we improvise.”

It’s going to hurt. Gage resigns himself to that. Even if they had proper lube, it would still probably hurt, a little. Gage isn’t very big and Connor is fucking huge. And while he’s never seen Connor’s cock hard, Gage is pretty sure it’s thicker than three of his own fingers, which is about as much as he’s ever been able to work inside before blowing his load.

“What do you say?” Connor pulls his thumb out, putting his index and middle finger close to Gage’s mouth instead. He doesn’t force Gage to do anything, just waiting on his decision. Craning his neck, Gage laps at the fingers, running his tongue along salty skin. Only then does Connor thrust his fingers into Gage’s mouth, almost until he chokes.

But even that stirs something inside Gage and he tries to take the fingers deeper, wetting them thoroughly with his saliva. Drool dribbles from the corner of his mouth as he sucks them, hard and fast and rough. So maybe Connor will think about Gage sucking his cock another time.

“You really are eager for it, ain’t ya?” Connor kisses him behind the ear and Gage can’t help but whine around the fingers still shoved against his soft palate.

Connor pulls his fingers out, sliding them both into Gage’s ass at the same time. It’s a lot at first, Gage trying to spread his legs further apart to accommodate, arch his back, relax, something. Because once Connor is in, he doesn’t seem intent on stopping.

There Connor goes, talking again. Making Gage feel sort of warm and needed, affection curling in his stomach. But filthy at the same time. “Heard it’s even better for men than it is for girls,” Connor jabs inside him without finesse, like he’s trying to make his fingers longer than they actually are. “Not every man is a slut like you, Gage. But we’re all supposed to like it, if ya do it right.”

“Please, oh, fuck,” Gage sputters. He’s hard, really fucking hard, despite the edges of pain, still flaring because Connor won’t stop being so rough with him. “Want it, want it bad.” His cock bounces against his stomach with every thrust of Connor’s fingers. The wall in front of him is too rough to grind against. And right now he needs his hands to brace himself for Connor.

Connor pulls his fingers out. Gage is almost far enough gone to yell at him to stick them back in. But he hears Connor spitting into his hand, “Gonna fuck you so good, babe. We’re nice and far away from camp. So be as loud as you want.”

The spit Connor smears over his cock isn’t going to be enough. Gage isn’t stupid. But he spreads his feet a little further, catching in his rucked down jeans, and tries to stick out his ass. Connor brings his hand down, hard, on his right cheek.

Gage can’t do much but curl his hands into fists as Connor starts the slow, torturous process of sliding in. While Gage feels a little open, it’s not enough. The head gets in, but only after Gage has let his mind go blank, not focusing on the stretch of Connor breaching him.

“Fuck, your cute little hole,” Connor growls, digging his nails into Gage’s ass. “You look so good, so tight around my cock.” He runs one finger along Gage’s rim, where he's stretched around Connor’s shaft.

Gage takes the lull as an opportunity to try and relax, even out his breathing before experimentally rolling his hips back against Connor. It’s still not slick enough, but at least the pain is starting to ebb. Connor must realize Gage is ready to go again, wrapping both hands around Gage’s waist and starting to force himself deeper.

Gage feels like he’s got the wind knocked out of him, struggling for air as Connor finally bottoms out, his groin flush to Gage’s ass, his hands still wrapped tight around him.

“Good,” Gage stumbles, it’s at least half-true, which helps, “You feel so fucking good.”

Maybe because Gage loves how fucking full he feels, stretched and open, but warm all over too. Connor’s full attention drilling down on him as he sinks his cock back down.

“Yeah, babe? Like my cock like that,” Connor starts pistoning, slow and even, but still with a heady sharpness that makes Gage’s head spin.

If he can keep Connor like this, Gage won’t have to be afraid of anything. Or anyone. Not that he’s afraid now. But, this could be so good.

“Fuck me.”

Connor practically growls, snapping his hips, hard enough that Gage goes crashing into the shack wall again. Reaching between his legs with one hand, Gage starts to stroke himself. He’s so hard, the tip of his cock leaking, dribbling over curled fingers.

For his part, Connor goes from steady to relentless, dipping his head down to put his teeth on Gage’s neck as he fucks as furiously as friction will allow. Gage doesn’t want to think too deeply about why everything is smoother now, how Connor has gotten his rhythm going, scratching curses across Gage’s neck.

Oh, fuck, Gage realizes that everyone will know. Yes, they’re too far away to hear, but they’ll see Connor all over his skin. There’s not much in the way of privacy on the road, but Connor is already biting above where Gage’s collar is likely to cover.

And Gage fucking loves it. That he’s going to head back to camp marked and used. Because that means his influence over Connor will be un-fucking-deniable.

Gage feels the tightness low in his stomach as he fucks into his fist, Connor fucking into him. Sweat from Connor’s forehead dampening Gage’s tee. Next time, and Gage has decided there will be a next time, he’s going to take off all his clothes. All of Connor’s too. And they’re going to face each other, while Gage rides Connor’s cock. And Gage will watch Connor’s face, how it lights up when he looks at Gage. Because even if he won’t say it, Gage knows Connor won’t be able to go without him. Not after this.

Coming against the wall, Gage starts shuddering, white-hot spurts against the boards and Connor still pounding into his ass. Connor keeps him from falling over, wrapping his arm around Gage’s waist to hold him up.

“You do, a, hah, hell of a job,” Connor’s breathless, “milking a guy’s cock with that tight ass, ah, of yours.”

“Connor, Connor, Connor, please,” he’s over sensitive now, on the verge of total wreck. But Connor is relentless, fucking him until he finally starts coming, emptying deep inside of Gage’s ass.

When Connor finally lets go, Gage stumbles, but manages to keep his feet. He turns around, leaning against the wall for support. His shirt sticks to his skin and he’s worried if he reaches down to pull his pants back up, he’s going to topple over.

But Connor, Connor is smiling, reaching for his cigarette pack. He knows better than to offer one to Gage. But he lights up, drawing slow and easy. He’s tucked his cock away alright, but his fly is still open and Gage can make out the pink head almost poking out.

Gage’s chest gets tight, because Connor is smiling because of him. He liked it as much as Gage did, which, hopefully means they’ll get to do this again.

Gage finally pulls up his pants, settling the buckle on his belt to keep his jeans from sliding down his hips. Stepping forward, Gage gets real close to Connor again, pressing his lips to Connor’s, though he’s gotta get up on his toes to reach. Connor smiles into his mouth, kissing back. He wraps one arm around Gage’s waist, holding him close. “Affectionate, ain’t you?”

“Maybe,” Gage admits. It feels...good. Not to be vulnerable. Because this isn’t going to be a vulnerability for him. But to be wanted, desired? That feels fucking great.

Connor reaches down, grabbing a handful of Gage’s ass again. “I better not hear about you spreading your legs for anyone else.” He cocks his head, “You like women too?”

Gage isn’t sure. Maybe? He hasn’t thought a lot about it, “Sure.”

Connor laughs, unconvinced. “Well, don’t be spreading your legs for them either. Or spreading their legs, you get me?”

Gage drums his fingers against Connor’s chest while he finishes his cigarette, keeping Gage half-straddling one of his legs. “And what about you?”

“Oh, I’ll fuck whoever I’d like. Perks of being the boss.”

Well then, Gage has just gotta make sure the only one Connor’s bound to like is him.


It's less than a week before Connor pulls Gage aside again. The last couple of raids have gone well, really fucking well, so they've gone back to base. It's not much more than half a pre-war subdivision, but at least it puts roofs over their heads. Connor's house even has all four walls. Gage usually sleep in “the barracks,” which means three and a half walls and no privacy, people stacked almost one on top the other in a room jammed full of cots.

But Gage is heading back from the nearby stream when Connor slips his fingers into Gage’s belt loops, telling him to follow.

Gage can't help but smile, trotting along a half-step behind. Connor's much taller than he is, making it hard to keep pace.

Once they're both inside, Connor closes the door. Gage is still smiling, because he knows it can't possibly be anything bad. The whole gang has been in a good mood for awhile. He thinks it's owed at least a little bit to him.

Connor goes straight for the fridge, pulling out two beers. The electrics are shoddy and the beers only slightly cooler than room temperature. One of them, he hands to Gage.

Gage takes a sip off the top. He's never really drunk before, never lived stable enough for it. The taste is vile. He screws up his face and recoils. Connor notices, he laughs, telling Gage he’ll get used to the taste. Gage doesn't plan on it.

“Come here,” Connor says, spreading his arm over the back of the couch,”come sit with me.” He throws his feet up on the coffee table.

Gage keeps his hands curled around the beer, sitting close enough to Connor that their hips touch. He's no shrinking violet. And he's not going to let Connor think he has doubts.

“Thinking about hitting Baxter. What do you think?” Connor takes a long gulp of his beer, waiting for Gage to answer.

Baxter isn't a large settlement, and it's two days travel with a group like they normally run with. A bigger settlement is worth the trouble. But a couple of shacks? Six people tops? That's a lot of travel for potentially little payoff. And if they can't lift enough to keep the others settled and happy, they might riot on the spot.

“Not much worth seeing. And it's a long walk.” Gage tries the beer again. He doesn't like it any better on the second sip. Putting it down on the coffee table, he hopes Connor won't force him to finish.

Connor’s arm drops off the back of the couch and onto Gage’s shoulder. “Heard they have a couple of safes. That before the war, they stored all sorts of fucking chems there.”

Gage offers his advice, “Send a scouting party? Just two guys who can move fast. Dress em like settlers, let them ask around, discrete. We should have more information, before we march everyone that far.”

“Even though we’re flush with caps?” Connor rubs his thumb over Gage’s collarbone, pulling down his tee just enough to get at smooth skin. “Thought if morale is high, they'd be more than happy to make the trip.”

“All the more reason for them not to listen. You have to work them hard, but they won't want to work at all if they're still feeling fat,” Gage argues.

Connor moves his arm off of Gage’s shoulders. Gage parts his lips to object, but Connor is just reaching into his back pocket, getting his pack of cigarettes. “You don't like the smoke, right?”

“No,” Gage admits.

Connor lights up, but does Gage the courtesy of blowing the smoke away from him, instead of towards. Taking a few move valiant attempts at his beer, Gage almost manages to convince himself it's not fucking terrible.

They try and figure out who to send as scouts. Gage thinks a man and a woman. Tess and Finnigan, maybe. They can pose as a couple. Connor wants to send Rash and Hector, because they're big and mean.

When he's done with his smoke, Connor snuffs out the end, directly on the coffee table. “Well then,” he reaches for his crotch, unzipping the front of his jeans. “Hand me that beer if you don't want it.”

Defiant, Gage takes another sip. But he ends up turning the bottle over to Connor.

“Tell me, Gage,” his arm is over Gage’s shoulder again, playing with the threadbare cotton of his tee, “how many cocks you put your pretty mouth on?” Connor tilts his wrist so he can thumb at Gage’s bottom lip.

“Plenty,” Gage lies. The actual answer is, none.

“Well then,” Connor puts his boots flat on the floor, spreading his legs just enough for Gage to kneel between. “Let's see what you've got.”

Swallowing, Gage shifts off the couch and onto his knees. When he goes to push the coffee table back, Connor stops him.

“Little thing like you? You’ll fit.”

Gage huffs, sliding between Connor’s knee and the table before settling between Connor’s spread thighs. Once Gage is in position, Connor reaches around him, grabbing the edge of the table and dragging it closer, boxing Gage in on all sides.

It's embarrassing how hard that makes him. Connor starts carding his fingers through Gage’s coarse hair.

Reaching forward with both hands, Gage frees Connor’s cock from his jeans. He can barely believe this thing was inside his ass a week ago. Long and heavy and thick, there's already a pearl of precum pooling at the slit. Looking right at Connor, Gage sticks out his tongue, lapping it away. When Connor groans, deep and unsteady, Gage’s chest fills with pride.

Tipping his head toward, Gage takes the head of Connor’s cock past his lips, using his tongue to run along the underside. Wrapping his mouth just slightly further down the shaft, he starts to suck, going slow at first.

Connor keeps one hand on the back of Gage’s head, the other one still holding his beer. In between sips, he mutters filthy affections, “That's it you little slut, I know you can take more.”

Spurred on by the praise, Gage sinks deeper, trying to keep his teeth away from the delicate skin of Connor’s shaft. But his cock is big enough that Gage has to strain his jaw. And once it's in, Gage doesn't feel he can do much of anything but curl his tongue along the underside.

Connor rolls his hips gently, holding Gage in place so he can't move away. Goes deep enough to choke him on his cock, but pulls back, albeit slowly, letting Gage breathe again.

Stroking along Gage’s jaw, Connor teases, “Talked yourself up too much?”

Not wanting to get caught out in his inexperience, Gage counters, “You're just,” he gulps, “much bigger than I'm used to.”

That seems the right thing to say. Connor grins like the predator he is. Gage has seen him fight and kill, cause general mayhem in the streets of quiet settlements. He's tall and broad and wields a sledgehammer like it’s nothing in his hands. Fucking sight to behold when it goes right. When Connor’s off his game, he's clumsy and brutish. But he has the potential of being fucking gorgeous too.

Directing Gage’s mouth back towards his cock, Connor keeps on talking, “Don't worry babe. I'll make sure you get plenty of practice with it,” he laughs deep in his chest.

Gage looks up, not taking his lips off Connor’s cock.

The pace Connor sets is slow, working his hips and Gage’s head as the mood strikes him. Gage starts relaxing, letting his mouth grow wet with saliva and his throat open as Connor pushes deeper in. Gage moves his hands away, dropping them into his lap as Connor takes control. He's aching in his jeans, his hard cock pressing obscenely against his zipper.

Gage starts to work his zipper down, but Connor stops him, pulling back so just the head of his cock tests against Gage’s tongue. “Focus. Don't worry, I'll make sure you're taken care of.”

Pulling all the way out of Gage’s mouth, Connor starts tugging at the back of Gage’s tee, yanking it over his head. “Better,” he leans back, “now, get back to work.”

This time Connor allows Gage more freedom to set the pace and depth. If anything, Gage pushes himself harder, bobbing his head in Connor’s lap faster than before. Wanting to prove that he can take it.

Connor grumbles with satisfaction, letting his head drop back against the couch. Stretching his jaw, Gage dives back down, until he gags, spit coming from the corners of his mouth as Connor’s cock leaves room for little else. He can feel Connor pulsing in his mouth, growing harder as he hits against the back of Gage’s palate.

“What a hot little mouth,” Connor praises. “You learn so fast.” Tugging at Gage’s hair, Connor pulls him back off his cock. “Keep it open.”

Gage listens, keeping his eyes open too.

With a few firm strokes of his hand, Connor starts coming, splashing against Gage’s face, into his mouth, still cooing, “Open, open,” staring at Gage’s face until he's well finished, patting his softening shaft against Gage’s cheek.

Gage balls his hands into fists against his thighs, waiting to be told to move. Connor promised to take care of him. Cum starts running down his bare chest.

Connor collapses back onto the couch, tucking himself away. “Get your pants off, and come here.”

Gage finally unzips his jeans, relieving the pressure built while he'd been sucking Connor. He pushes his boxers down too, before climbing into Connor’s lap, straddling his hips on either side.

“Mmm,” Connor runs his hands up and down Gage’s sides, drumming his fingertips between jutting ribs. “If I were a younger man, I'd pound your ass again. Like that, wouldn't you?”

Gage nods slightly, willing to give whatever it takes to get Connor on his side, and nobody else's, “Yeah.”

“Maybe later. But for now, go on then, you must just be dying to get off.”

Gage frowns. It's not like he was expecting Connor to suck him. But maybe just use his big hand on Gage’s cock. But Connor puts his hands behind his head, sticking his elbows out wide.

Reaching between his legs, Gage starts to stroke himself. Fuck, he's already embarrassingly close, considering he's done little but ghost over his groin, he works himself fast and hard, unwilling, or unable, to hold back any longer. He grits his teeth, keeping his eyes open, watching Connor as Connor watches him.

He's close, close, close, his mouth falling open, Connor's name between his teeth, when Connor grabs his hand, hard, and wrenches it away. He wants to fucking scream, the pressure and edge of pleasure too much. Gage’s eyes go wild, wide. In his desperation, he falls forward, trying to grind against Connor’s stomach.

Connor laughs, taking his other hand around to Gage’s ass. He fits one dry finger inside, plunging deep while Gage whines.

“That's it, babe, show me how bad you want it.”

Gage bites at Connor’s chest, getting a mouthful of his shirt, thrusting his hips towards Connor’s stomach, then back onto his fat finger. With the angle, Connor can't squeeze the second finger in, but like hell he’s trying, before Gage starts coming, emptying onto Connor’s shirt.

“Oh, fuck,” Gage mutters, his face still against Connor’s chest. Connor’s finger swivels inside him one last time, stinging, before he pulls it back out.

“Told you, you'd get yours,” Connor says, his hands dropping to Gage’s hips and squeezing down. “Come on, I need to change, you ruined my clothes.”

Gage climbs off, standing on shaky legs. Connor lands a slap on his ass as he gets up, heading towards his basket full of halfway-clean clothes. Gage watches the muscles of his back move under his fair skin as Connor strips off his shirt, tossing it aside. Putting on new boxers, he doesn't bother with pants.

This time, Connor only gets one beer from the fridge. Gage doesn't know if he's dismissed or what. Just standing naked in the center of Connor’s living room, his face smeared with cum.

“Thought you didn't want one?” Connor asks when he catches Gage staring at his beer.


Connor pinches his eyes together, “Are you alright? As much as I enjoy the view, you might get cold if you don't put your pants back on. And I have running water, if you want to get cleaned up.” Reaching forward, he thumbs across Gage’s cheek, collecting cum on his finger. He slides it into Gage’s mouth. Gage sucks. Connor smiles.

“I gotta go make rounds after this. Make sure everyone is staying in line. You can come with me. I'd like to hear your thoughts.”

Broken from his daze, Gage looks around for his pants and shirt. He'd like nothing more than to walk at Connor’s side