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“Captain!” Glancing back over his shoulder, Chris sees Piers jogging up to him, clutching a binder in his hand.
“Yo!” Chris greets, raising two fingers in a wave. “What’s up, Piers?”
“I have something I’d like to talk to you about.”
“Walk with me.”
“Do you have somewhere private we could talk?” Piers asks, after noticing Chris isn’t walking towards his office.
“How urgent is this information?”
“I’d rather address it sooner than later.”
“Can it wait after a shower?”
Piers stops for a step before continuing to trail the other.
“Again, I’d rather we could discuss it now,” Piers presses.
“Then you’ll have to accompany me to the locker room.”
“That’s even more open.”
“I need to shower before I return to my office,” Chris states, voice steady. He doesn’t look back to talk to Piers. “You can either talk to me now or wait until I’m done.” The captain does, however, pause with his hand on the doorknob to the locker room, waiting to see what Piers does. With a nod of his head, the two walk in, Chris beelining it for his locker.
“Hit me,” he says, punching in his lock.
“That lead you asked me to follow - with Marks? He brought a report to my office this morning. You weren’t in yet—”
“Training with Stef.”
“Right. I haven’t looked at it yet.”
“If you haven’t, then it could wait, couldn’t it?” Piers frowns and exhales through his nose. “Open it up, then.”
Sorting through his papers, Piers scans over the cover page before reading off the important information.
“Back in 2009, there was a 6.4 magnitude earthquake in Honduras, destroying a small village. Survivors relocated out of the area and it was left deserted. After a couple years, it became home to what locals called a gang, though others called it a cult.” Turning the page, Piers glances up to Chris at the same time he tugs down his pants, pulling them off his feet one at a time.
Looking up at Piers’ silence, Chris meets his eyes.
“Something the matter, Nivans?” He asks, jaw set.
“No, sir.”
“Good. I would hope not.” Wrapping a towel around his waist, Chris motions with his head for Piers to follow him. “Continue.”
“Right. Only a few months later, a turf war broke out and the village was massacred by their own inhabitants. It appeared that they had cannibalized each other, and the ones who were still partially intact had abnormal limbs. One report said bodies had evidence of extra limbs, such as wings.”
The shower room was empty, thankfully. Stepping into a shower stall, Chris throws his towel over the dividing wall and turns the water on. Piers, standing just out of the water’s spray, continues to read the report.
“Rumors began to spread that the village was cursed. Those who dared to explore came back ‘haunted’ and ended up killing themselves, typically after consuming some of their own flesh. Numbers of those infected are unknown, but it doesn’t appear that this ‘curse’ is contagious to those who did not visit the village.” Clearing his throat, Piers continues. “Early in 2012, a small group of college students from Albany, New York went to visit Honduras to record their findings. Footage of what appeared to be non-human beings are seen in the video and those students have gone missing.”
“Not before uploading their video, I presume?”
“Correct. It has since been taken down, as well as any instances of it being reposted. Even if it only reached a small audience before it was removed, there is still video evidence of these cannibals.”
“What’s the plan, then?”
“We investigate what’s going on and shut it down before anyone else thinks some views are worth their lives.”
“And the families of these students?”
“They have been informed that the missing persons cases are under investigation. It seems like these students didn’t talk about this project with others.”
Running his hands through his hair, Chris sighs.
“Alright. Once I’m finished I’ll look into it. See how soon we can get Marks up here.”
“Got it.” Closing the binder, Piers holds his hands behind his back in silence.
“Nivans.”
“Yes?”
“I want you to know I usually don’t invite my men to meet with me in the shower.”
“Of course.”
“I trust you with this,” he emphasizes, turning to look at his partner. Piers’ eyes instinctively glance down before snapping back up to Chris, who watches his gaze.
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate your trust.” Swallowing somewhat nervously, Piers quickly glances around the room before clearing his throat. “I, uh, am also—”
“I know,” Chris smiles, “I recruited you - I know your records.” Piers nods, once. “Even if you weren’t, I would still trust you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Chris.”
“Chris,” the younger man repeats, letting it sit in his mouth.
“Was there anything else?” Chris asks, turning back to his shower.
“Off the record, Chris?” Glancing back over his shoulder, Chris raises an eyebrow, silently urging Piers to continue. The man clears his throat again, looks away, then meets Chris’ eyes before inhaling and announcing, “you have a very nice cunt.”
Letting out a laugh, Chris rubs the back of his neck self-consciously, a sheepish grin lighting his features.
“Off the record - would you like to see it?”
“Am I allowed to?”
“I’m offering, aren’t I?”
Setting his notebook down, Piers crouches to begin unlacing his boots before he hisses fuck it and walks into the shower, fully clothed. On his knees, he dares to look up, only to see Chris watching him almost fondly.
“You smell nice,” he blurts.
“I was in the shower.”
“No, your sweat.” Shuffling closer, Piers puts one hand on a thigh each, digging his blunt nails into the hard muscles there, silently encouraging Chris to part his legs.
“Nope. You’ll have to ask for it.”
“Fuck.” Inhaling through his nose, Piers tilts his head back up. “Please let me eat you out.”
“Atta boy.” Leaning his weight against the shower wall, Chris plants his feet at shoulder’s width and Piers sets to coaxing his cock alive, using the pad of his thumb to make it swell. Taking it into his mouth, Piers rolls over it with his tongue, sucking harder when he hears Chris sigh above him.
“You taste good, captain.”
“Don’t call me that.” Piers looks up, worried he’d done something wrong, but Chris is staring down at him with a dangerous smile. “Everytime you call me that I’ll be thinking about you sucking my cock.”
“Fuck, Chris—”
“You should put your mouth to work, Nivans. Don’t want anyone to walk in like this.”
Gladly doing as told, Piers uses one hand to pull back the furry hood that hides Chris’ cock, his other hand palming himself. Water pours off of Chris and onto the younger’s face, but he continues to breathe through his nose and focus.
Suddenly, hands are in his hair, combing through it. It’s calming and comforting, almost tender, and suddenly Piers realizes Chris has started to shampoo his hair.
“Uh—”
“Shouldn’t waste water, right?”
Hand on his crotch, Piers barely manages to properly get a hand inside his boxers, teasing his cock and moaning wantonly against Chris’ skin.
“You look good like that.”
“Chris,” he sighs, moving to bite at his thighs, licking the trails of water. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Why don’t you get cleaned up and meet me back in my quarters.” And Chris turns off the water, grabs his towel and steps away. Piers, weighed down by his wet clothes, stares with his mouth agape. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring you another towel.”
The sound of Chris’ bare feet against the tiles fills the otherwise empty room, and a shiver runs through Piers. Standing up, he begins shucking off his clothes, landing on the floor with a heavy thump. Rinsing his hair and soaping himself up, he gasps when a hand slaps his ass hard , only to find Chris eyeing him. Wordlessly hanging up a new towel for Piers, he then picks up the wet clothes and the previously discarded notes on a new case, then gives Piers another look over.
“Catch you later, Nivans?”
“Yes, captain.” Clicking his tongue, Chris disappears back into the locker room, leaving Piers to quickly finish his shower, anticipating what his leader has in store.