Lee can’t let himself think of the man before him as his CO, or even Thomas. JoTho sounds silly, but Joe works. Not that Lee says it out loud; he really is done talking. He barks out a short, clipped word, an order really, using a drill sergeant voice he didn’t even know he had in him.
“Kneel.”
Leaning back against the hatch, Lee pushes down on Joe’s shoulders until he obeys. One hand curls around the back of Joe’s neck, a faint shadow of hair tickling his palm like the bristles on a brush. Lee dips his other hand into the front of his sweats. Grabbing his hard c**k, he pulls it free from the confines of cloth. It stands erect, red and veinous, the shroomy head an angry purple, already glistening with dampness.
Giving Joe’s neck a firm squeeze, Lee says, “Open up.”
Joe looks past the t
