Zero Hour

Archived Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight

Part Nine (Not Worksafe)

The hallway outside the bathroom lit up. Ernest couldn't see the source; it was out in the main body of the building. But he'd had nothing but the moonlight to see by for so long that his eyes were stung by the dim light.

Will pulled his hand out from Ernest's trousers, moving excruciatingly slow. He met Ernest's eyes. He didn't need to tell Ernest to be quiet. He drew himself up into a crouch, glanced around at the rubble, and placed his hand on a half-meter long section of pipe.

Ernest sat up. The sifting of the coarse grains of concrete dust rasped in his ear as he clenched every muscle tight in an effort to match Will's silent motions. The sound of dust grinding against itself wasn't an audible noise, it couldn't have been. Besides, his heart was beating so loudly that he was sure the people outside gliding down the magnetic strip in their PODs could all hear it.

Slowly, gently, Will eased the pipe from its nest of broken glass and splintered wood. It was just like an old-time feed, right before the strange lag where Ernest sensed something forbidden had been cut away, some action he could sometimes piece together later, as the actors reappeared with bandages around their heads. Or worse, never reappeared at all.

The low sound of laughter came from the main room, a man's voice. Will looked at Ernest and quirked an eyebrow. Ernest stood, and shrugged.

Will pressed the pipe against Ernest's hands.

Ernest stared. Will nudged it into his hands more firmly. Ernest's fingers closed around it. It felt rough, and hard. It was surprisingly heavy. He wondered exactly how much force it would take to damage someone's skull. That sort of information had never been disseminated in the free feeds he'd watched.

Will slid another pipe from the rubble and hefted it. He was a dark silhouette against the light--spiked hair, sinew and muscle, raw and lean and powerful.

Ernest shifted the pipe to his right hand, moving as slowly as Will. He felt his pulse pounding at his throat and groin. He adjusted himself. He and Will should have found somewhere safer to play at porn, he decided. His cock was still swollen, and he felt giddy and disoriented.

Will picked a path to the jagged hole that was the doorway. Ernest followed, stepping precisely in his footprints. Will held up his free hand and Ernest paused. They waited.

Again, something in the front of the building moved.

Ernest stretched himself so that his eyes just cleared Will's shoulder. There, among all the wreckage in the building's main room, crouched the Storm Trooper. He'd unfolded a neat square of biodegradable film to cover the filthy floorboards, and weighted down one side with an LED that shone so brightly it made tears form in Ernest's eyes. The security op stared straight ahead, waving his fingers through a cluster of colorful holo shapes, arranging and rearranging the patterns they made. Every now and then the shapes shifted, and he barked out a short laugh. The W3 link on his wrist flashed as data streamed in and out, and he and his game played one another.

Ernest squeezed the pipe, and imagined the feel of it collapsing the Storm Trooper's skull.

He tried to move around Will, but Will sidestepped and kept him in place. Will bent backwards and placed his lips against Ernest's ear. "What are you doing?" he breathed.

Ernest shook his head. He couldn't imagine why he wanted to do harm to the security op, just a young man who'd ducked away to sneak in some gaming. And yet, there was something cruel in his laugh that begged Ernest to swing the pipe.

"Other way," Will whispered. "Back door."

It was Ernest's turn to find a path. Each step was exhausting, and by the time he and Will slipped into the back alley, his hair was soaked with sweat, long tendrils clinging to his forehead and cheeks, his shirt clammy, stuck against his spine. He was shaking.

Before he could decide what to do with himself, Will slammed his back into the brick wall and stole another kiss from him. "Hot damn, you wanted to pulp him. I could tell."


Will straddled his leg, grasped his cock through his trousers. "I'd love to see you kick some ass," Will said. "But not here, not now. His link will go off and draw the rest of 'em right to us."

Will sucked Ernest's lower lip into his mouth before Ernest could answer, dragged his teeth along the meat of it while his hand moved up and down, kneading, stroking. Ernest was relieved he didn't need to explain what he thought he'd meant to do in that hallway; he wasn't sure himself.

Will backed his kisses off, and finished with a gentle brush of his lips. "C'mon. Let's get out of here."

It surprised Ernest how easy it was to leave L0U15E docked in the public lot and simply walk away. He'd never been more than a hundred meters from his POD in the last twenty years. That thought almost gave him pause, but there was no time to look back. Will dragged him forward by the hand, and didn't seem inclined to let go. He led Ernest through a maze of alleyways, and beyond. They walked quickly for half an hour or more, passing a mostly-empty POD docking station, some half-fallen down buildings, and vacant lots blocked off by sagging, rusted metal gates. Finally, they approached an intact building between two others that were missing parts of walls and roofs. Will drew Ernest toward a stairwell, down a flight of unlit stairs, and through a doorway that let to total darkness.

Will let go of his hand, and for a moment, Ernest was alone. And then the gentle, bluish glow of a solar-charged lantern lit the room. Will held it up beside his head, caught Ernest's eye, and grinned.

At least, Ernest thought it was a grin.

"This place is so far off the grid that nobody knows about it," Will said, "but I'll do a few scans just to be sure. Will set the lantern in the center of the room, them pulled a small handheld unit from his pocket and held it in front of him. He swept the small piece of equipment along the walls, especially in the corners, and over the floor where piles of cloth, paper and wood lay in heaps.

"What are you scanning for?"

"Electromagnetic fields. If any of the security ops found this place, they'd bury a W3 link somewhere to monitor it. But since nothing else here is powered, this little scanner will lead me right to anything drawing juice." The portable sensor squealed in Will's hand. He toed aside some Styrofoam packing nuggets. Beneath them was the book-shaped monitor. "I almost forgot. You left this back in the attic."

Ernest leaned the pipe he'd been carrying against the wall and took the book-shaped monitor from Will. He turned it on. The audio link murmured in his ear. Still there, even after his visit to the Health Department. Ernest considered; it wasn't really that surprising. The health monitor had scarcely made eye contact with Ernest. A physical exam would have been more effort than he was willing to expend. He'd only looked at the readout on Ernest's POD.

"So," said Will. "Any chance we could take up where we left off? You know, with my hand down your pants and me humping your leg?"

"Humping. That's a funny expression."

Will pulled the monitor out of Ernest's hands and jabbed at the screen a few times. Audio crackled into the earpiece, voices talking, jumbled and incoherent. "Here you go. Visual aid."

The voices sorted themselves into phrases.

C'mon, boy. Lemme see whatcha got. You hungry for some meat?

"Oh, there's audio too." Ernest tapped the earpiece to adjust the sound level. Will's fingers worked Ernest's waistband. He was better at it now than he had been the first time. Ernest's trousers were around his knees in two seconds. Will was a fast learner.

Aw, that's right. Touch it. Makes your mouth water, don't it?

It was two men on the purged feed this time, rather than a man and a woman. Now Will's question about which feeds Ernest had preferred made total sense. If only Ernest had started with the homo feeds. He'd have a better idea what was expected of him. "Am I supposed to talk about meat?" he said.

"Huh?" Will knelt between Ernest's feet, just like the porn feed actor. "Oh, people never really talked that way."

"If it's not historically accurate, then why...?"

Will grabbed Ernest by the hips and pressed his mouth against Ernest's stomach. Ernest's nervous system seemed to rewire itself so that everything routed toward the point of contact. Lips. Teeth. Tongue.

Say it, boy. Tell me how much you wanna suck that dick.

I wanna suck your dick.

"Are you going to...suck my dick?"

Will dragged his hot, wet tongue over Ernest's stomach, down toward his hip. Ernest felt tingly, not just there, but everywhere. His spine. His balls. His fingers and toes. "That's the idea." The words tickled the downy hairs on Ernest's thigh. He felt himself start to swell.

"I don't think it will work on me."

"Trust me, would you? I told you, I know what I'm doing."

Aw, that's right, sweet fucking mouth on you. C'mon, boy. All the way down.

Will pressed his lips against Ernest's thigh. Ernest felt so sensitized that the gentle warmth of Will's breath on him was excruciating. He saw the actor hang on to the head of the hairy, muscled "boy" who was sucking him. Ernest placed his hand on Will's spiky hair, which lay flat under the pressure of his palm, then sprang back up again as he stroked his hand over the contour of Will's head.

"I want to pull away, but I don't...."

"Ticklish," said Will, and the word sent shivers up Ernest's spine. "I can adjust for that. Keep telling me what you like."

Will mouthed Ernest's thigh harder, and the urge to shove away from him subsided. Still, the sensations were strange and intense, as if Ernest's nervous system was caught in a feedback loop.

Lemme see your cock. Go on, pull it out.

Ernest glanced down at Will. He could only see the top part of Will's face. Will was busy pushing his tongue between Ernest's upper thighs. "Let me see your cock," Ernest whispered.

Will's tongue stopped moving. He rocked back on his heels and looked up at Ernest. "Don't worry about me. Just lay back and enjoy it."

"But I'm standing up."

Will rolled his eyes. He pulled the book-shaped monitor away from Ernest and set it on a pile of rags. "Never mind that. You're too literal. You don't have to follow step by step. There are a million variations, and countless more that're just waiting to be found out." He led Ernest to a long cushion on the floor and pulled him onto it. Ernest sank down on his hip, and managed to free one of his feet from his trousers.

Uhn. Uhn. Uhn. Uhn. Uhn. Oh yeah. Uhn. Uhn. Uhn. That's right....

Will pushed Ernest onto his back and lay on his stomach between Ernest's legs, elbows tucked under his chest. "So many variations we'd need years to try them all."

"I don't have years."

"Don't you?" Will's mouth closed on the band of sinew that connected Ernest's leg and groin.

"Oh." Ernest propped himself up on one elbow and placed his other hand on Will's head. His breath hitched. "Intense."

Will mumbled an affirmation and slid his tongue higher, working it along the crease of Ernest's thigh. He moved slowly, deliberately, up and down, licking his way deeper between Ernest's legs.

"Your tongue, it feels...." Ernest let out a breathy sigh. "It's not like anything I've ever felt before."

Will grunted, and swiped his tongue over Ernest's scrotum. Ernest's balls contracted and he clenched a fistful of Will's hair. Will looked up. "Ticklish? Sorry." He worked a hand out from underneath him and cupped Ernest's balls, stroking the thumb along the cleft between them. "You like that?"

Like. That seemed like a bizarre word for the sensations that were coursing through Ernest. But he couldn't think of anything more appropriate. "Yes." The word came out a breathy hiss.

Will dragged the flat of his tongue over Ernest's cock, and Ernest had to clench his whole body to keep from kicking him off.

"You're so fresh and new," said Will. He licked Ernest again. It wasn't quite so startling the second time. "When you come in my mouth, I'll be the very first one to taste it."

A week ago, Ernest probably would have disagreed with Will, said that the things that happened on the purged porn feeds were things that happened to homo sapiens, not him. But cock his looked fat and distended, and it twitched of its own accord as Will licked it, and maybe--Ernest would have to concede--maybe there was some vestigial part of his body that could, indeed, orgasm. "Please," he whispered.

Uhn. Uhn. Uhn. Fuck, yeah....

Ernest tapped his audio link to shut it off just as Will's hot, wet mouth closed over his cockhead. Another moan, only this one was nothing like all the rhythmic grunting on the porn feed. This sound had been dragged from somewhere deep in his core.

Will slid his mouth back over the tip of Ernest's cock. Ernest's hips bucked as Will's lips moved over the glans. "You sound fucking hot. I'm stiff enough to cut glass just listening to you breathe."

And then Will's mouth plunged down again, and this time, he sucked.

Ernest bit back another wordless noise, not entirely successfully. He had Will's head in both hands. He squeezed hard, as if he could hold Will in place and just flex his hips, keep some control over the white-hot sensation that was threatening to turn him inside out. Will groaned--Ernest felt it rumble along his shaft--and tugged Ernest's balls.

Ernest pressed himself into Will's mouth harder. Yes. This was right. Nothing could feel so good and not be right. Will was right. He was right about everything.

His cockhead brushed something hard. Teeth. He could feel Will's molars with his cock, how bizarre. There was the tongue, soft and magical, and the--what was it, the palate? No, there was an idiom. The roof. Yes--the roof of Will's mouth, slick and hot on the top of his glans, but there, at the side, if he thrust, the scrape of teeth.

Will pulled off Ernest's cock despite Ernest's attempt to hold him there. "Look how stiff you are," he said, grinning. Grinning, for sure.

Ernest looked down at himself. It wasn't quite as massive as a cock from one of the purged porn feeds, but it didn't look anything like his own cock, either. "What...?"

"Congratulations. That's a fine hard-on, if I do say so myself."

Ernest watched it disappear into Will's mouth. It was especially soft and hot at the back--his throat? Ernest felt his cock twitch at the thought, and Will made a wet, squelching noise.

"Please," Ernest repeated. "I really do want to see your cock."

Ernest felt another grunt from Will all the way up his spine, and then a shuffle of hands between his knees. Will jerked his trousers down and then turned his attention back to Ernest. Ernest's cock. His hard cock.

Ernest craned his neck to see over Will's bobbing head, between his legs. There it was, and pubic hair, too--a few shades darker than the hair on Will's head. The cock didn't look as disproportionately huge as it had felt back at the abandoned shop, when it was pressing against Ernest's thigh. It was bigger than Ernest's, but the same flushed color, the same general shape, if one were to allow for variations, in the same way people's faces and fingerprints varied.

Ernest lay back and stared up at the cobwebbed ceiling boards. Will rolled Ernest's balls together with one hand and stroked himself with the other, and all the while, his head bobbed up and down, and he sucked.

Ernest wove his fingertips through Will's hair. "Maybe it tickles. I don't know. I think it's too intense...."

Will's tongue fluttered against Ernest's cock, and he sucked a bit harder.

Ernest's hips felt heavy and strange. His fingertips and toes tingled. He felt like rolling out from under Will, mostly. Or maybe he wished that Will would suck harder.

"It''s...." Ernest gasped for air. "It really does feel strange. I don't think I...."

Will stopped touching himself and slid both hands around Ernest's hips and beneath his buttocks. He clasped his face against Ernest's groin as if he'd heard the very notion in Ernest's head about disengaging before he'd proved his point.

Will's hands, the fingertips pressing hard into his thighs and rump, sent a new cacophony of signals to Ernest's poor, belabored nervous system. He would have laughed. Almost. Except it had come out as more of a yelp.

"Will," he said. And had he ever called Will by name before? Maybe not. But he'd said it to himself many, many times, as he scanned feeds inside his POD, nothing but L0U15E and the "sardonic" wallpaper to keep him company. "I...I...wait, it's too much.... Uhn...."

Ernest's back arched. Will sucked harder, and kneaded his body with both hands.

"No." Ernest gasped the single word out and pushed against Will's head, but it kept on gliding, up and down, and Ernest couldn't seem to find the strength to stop him. He was helpless against Will's hot, wet mouth, and his strength, and his determination. Up, and down. Strong. Unrelenting. It was heady, like the rush of Ernest's first taste of caffeine, and just as powerful. But more, so much more--as if he were being torn apart, if being torn apart could feel absolutely, utterly amazing.

Ernest's whole body stiffened, then started to thrash. He cried out, and Will made noises, too, muffled grunts of encouragement around Ernest's pulsing cock. Ernest peaked, a bright-edged crest of unbearable sensation, and then it felt as if he fell from a great height, falling and spinning, only he was still on the ground, his back flat against the damp, hot cushion, and Will was still there, trailing kisses over his thighs. And the ceiling was still there, cobwebs swaying. Only Ernest was changed. And that seemed to make all the difference in the world.



Go to Part 10



Zero Hour: a dystopian adventureThe final version of Zero Hour is now in ebook, including 6 interior illustrations by Jordan and a gorgeous cover by PL Nunn. Buy Zero Hour at JCP Books

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