“Are you still up here?”

Jarik sent an apologetic smile over his shoulder. “Sorry, Dak,” the cheetah said, ears tilting back. He’d promised the otter some playtime on this run, compensation for the man otherwise having next to nothing to do for the previous five days, and he was growing distinctly aware that he hadn’t delivered for another two days. “The new boat’s got a big tank. It’ll need at least four more passes with the scoops to fill up.”

“I thought you said you could do those in your sleep.” Dak’s smile as he clung to Jarik’s flight seat was a little bit stiff; he was trying to put on a show of good humour, obviously, but the idleness was getting to him.

Damn it.

“Not literally,” Jarik sighed, taking one hand off the controls to rub behind Dak’s tiny ears. “This field isn’t quite uniform enough to trust to the autopilot. I’m sorry, Dak, but an opportunity like this was just too good to pass up.”

“Yeah, I know.” Dak vanished from over Jarik’s shoulder, swinging around to settle into the copilot’s chair on the other side. The otter tried a grin; it too was kind of wan. “Can you take a bit of distraction?”

Jarik swallowed. Now was not the time to point out that Dak shouldn’t have come in the cockpit without his flight suit on. Or, indeed, anything at all… Oh, hell with it; the front lines had moved days past this point since the two-weeks-past battle that had left this cloud of scrap. And even if something should change, their sensors weren’t that substandard. “Y’know, that much I think I can manage.” He reached over to rub under the otter’s chin. “One-handed, even.”

At that, Dak blinked; then his grin turned decidedly more lively.

Jarik keyed in a hold-in-place instruction for long enough to skin out of his own suit, then slid his control glove back on, winched his seat back a few notches, and buckled in. He’d scarcely settled there when Dak’s muzzle dove in between his thighs, and he shivered. The man was going at him with a will – engulfing the cheetah’s soft-for-the-moment cock in one gulp, pushing his tongue up against it, flicking over Jarik’s glans… definitely pent up for too long.

Jarik glanced over long enough to see how the otter was situated, sprawled across the copilot’s chair, tail looped around its trunk to keep in place; and he leaned over to curl his fingers around Dak’s own rigid arousal. The heat of it under his fingers was almost as distracting as the heat around his own swelling cock, and that was without considering how Dak shivered and arched into his touch; even the simple, looping turns Jarik was doing through the densest sections of the debris cloud took some effort when he had that kind of distraction at hand.

Dak was good, and giving the cheetah his all, but Dak was also primed and on edge; the cheetah’s simple, almost absent-minded stroking brought the otter to a quick peak, a muffled cry emerging from around Jarik’s bucking cock as his own jerked in the cheetah’s grip, a half-dozen copious spurts of sticky semen spattering against the canopy, a few more sluggish droplets tumbling more slowly through the air. It was the smell of it, rich and musky, that finally tipped Jarik over in turn, shuddering, bucking up against his restraints and Dak’s muzzle, feeding the otter a few sticky squirts in turn.

All without missing a single pass. His instructor would’ve been proud… so long as she didn’t know just what they were getting up to in here.

“Thanks,” Dak sighed, sitting up properly in his seat. “And… sorry. I really needed that…”

“I know, hon.” Jarik leaned over, curled his free arm around Dak’s shoulders, and kissed at the base of an ear. “Soon as the hold’s full, I’ll aim this tub back home, put it on auto, and you can hammer into me ’til turnover, alright? That’s a promise.”

The otter laughed, kissing under Jarik’s chin. “You’re the best.”

Well, as long as Dak was satisfied, that was good enough for Jarik, too.