haze (2025)

Light Mode

Viktor had never been a deep sleeper. It was a habit born out of necessity, having been subjected to the never-ending dangers that lurked in every corner of their godforsaken world, forcing his body to react at the slightest noise or intrusion that his dulled senses could pick up on. 

Sometimes, if he was lucky, he’d be blessed with a relatively peaceful night. Maybe even get six solid hours of sleep uninterrupted, eight if he bothered to drink before pulling himself into bed. Tonight was not one of those nights.

Out of concern for his liver — or at least after Doc Parker had yelled at him a few days ago for chugging a whole bottle of Squeezin’s in one go, which then caused him to pass out immediately after — he had opted to instead rely on good ol’ reliable for tonight, a nice little bedtime wank.

Years and years of lonely nights as a ranger taught him well. He knew himself and his little buddy down there well enough to do it quickly and efficiently enough if he found himself too pent up and wanting for whatever reason on the field. Maybe with some difficulty if he were still stationed at the barracks,  but his seniority had granted him a shitty little broom closet that had been retrofitted with a bed somewhere inside Peterson HQ.

It wasn’t much, with his bed and gear taking up most of the little space that he had to work with, leaving barely enough floor space to pace around in properly. But, it was better than sneaking off to the Kodiak or to the woods just to have some private time with himself, at least.

He kept his…supplies nearby, so to speak. It didn’t take a lot of time for him to get ready and to have one lubed hand shoved down his joggers, palming the soft flesh of his cock. He starts at his usual pace, hand firm — but not too tight — around his girth, moving with well-practiced strokes and squeezes to bring himself to full mast in no time.

He closes his eyes, focusing solely on fucking his hand as quietly as he could. It was as methodical as he could, not his preferred strategy, but if he wanted something more he’d rather just haul his ass all the way to downtown’s Little Vegas and hook up with one of the brothel’s suites.

A click of the door disturbs his concentration, however, forcing him to withdraw his hand from his cock in record time. Light floods the outside of his eyelids as someone slinks into his room, the pitter patter of feet coming closer to his bed as the door shuts closed. 

He cracks an eye open, trying to adjust to the dark of the room as he feels his mattress dip, thin blankets pulled up as a small figure nestles into the side of his body. He sighs.

“...Aren’t you getting too old for this, Rin?” he murmurs, trying to mask his exerted breathing. He shifts to accommodate the girl, who had curled herself up right next to him.

“Who cares?” Karin grunts, arms outstretched to grasp the older man’s torso, wrapping them around him as much as she could in a hug. “‘Been a while, anyway.” His breath hitches. He can feel his dick twitch as her arms wrap lazily around his own torso, his body yearning for more contact on instinct.

A second passes and he lets out an exasperated sigh, letting his eyes close as his hand drops down to wrap around her soft waist, keeping her close enough to placate the girl, but also just far enough to keep her from bumping into his cock, which was still at full mast underneath his layers despite everything.

“Doesn’t mean you could just sneak in and climb in here without asking first.”

“You could’a jus’ kicked me out, y’know.” Her voice is muffled, face pressed against his chest. He hears her breathe in deeply. “‘n yet I’m still here.”

“...Brat.” 

She stifles a laugh.

This had been a habit that the girl had formed back when she was younger and far more delicate, plagued by nightmares and restless sleep. It had been one particularly stormy night when he had first offered to let her sleep next to him, ‘to protect her from the ghosts’, he said, and quickly found out that it had calmed her down enough for him to carry her sleeping form back into her own bed. 

But once became twice, then twice became sometimes, and sometimes became often. Even well into her later years she had retained the exact same habit, even after countless battles had turned her from a scared little kid into a full-fledged Ranger. It only really stopped when the two had parted ways around five years ago, after the mess that was Arizona.

She just slept better, she said. He couldn't even kick her off if he tried.

He supposes it’s some kind of divine punishment.

He had found her all the way back before he found the company of the Rangers, a young girl who grew up amongst a machine-worshipping doomsday cult that his team had wiped out in exchange for cold, hard, scrap.

He didn’t have it in him to gun her down as he did with the rest, however.

Instead, he took her in and raised her as if she was his own, right alongside his own son. They were at the same age, so adjusting wasn’t particularly too difficult, and the two had practically grown up attached at the hip with how close they were.

All that was not the problem, however. Not even the guilt of having ripped her away from her family, no. Hell, he could still justify that, at the very least, as horrible as the thought was.

The real problem was that the girl had grown too attached to him, in ways that were far too inappropriate for someone who he had cared for and raised as his own kin. 

And, yet, he let her continue. Gladly, even.

In his defense, he thinks, it used to be pretty chaste. Lingering hugs, small pecks on the lips, et. cetera, all things that could have easily been misconstrued as simple familial affection. A lot harder to do so as time passed, however. It was pretty hard to justify her climbing into his bed at fuck o’ clock, or whenever she tried to — albeit discreetly — grind against him whenever they’d hug for a few minutes too long. In hindsight, he could have told her off all those years ago, but…

He exhales.

His dick is, admittedly, distracting him. Still somehow hard despite everything, he considers continuing his little session before he got rudely interrupted earlier. He’s unsure about doing it right next to Karin, but the faster it goes away, the less awkward it would be when the girl inevitably presses herself closer to him in her sleep.

The hand on her waist tightens its grip, but the girl makes no effort to move. She’s already drifting off to sleep, he thinks. Always quick to do so when she’s in his arms, after all. Thank god, he thinks.

With a huff, he peels her soft arms off his torso, before rolling over to face the wall, back facing the girl. He could hear her grumble — still sleepy — before her hands find their way to his torso once more, pressing herself against his broad back. She falls silent shortly after.

He tries to ignore the warmth against his back when he discreetly wraps his hand around his neglected cock once again, breath held as he idly strokes his length with a practiced rhythm. At this point, he just wanted to get it over with, really.

It doesn’t take too long, thankfully. A few minutes pass and he can feel the familiar heat building in his abdomen, steady breaths turning heavier and heavier, until —

“...Dude, gross.”

He bites his lip, fist frozen as it grips the base of his already swollen cock, not daring to move an inch as he tries to stay as quiet as he could. The girl was, apparently, awake. Or half-awake, at the very least. And, god, he was already over the damn edge.

Karin, in contrast to him, had always been a deep sleeper. She slept like a rock, unmoving and largely unaware of the world around her once she slipped into dreamland, which was what the older man had been banking on were it not for the fact that he forgot one crucial thing. The girl had always lightly snored in her sleep, a familiar sound that the older Ranger had trained himself to ignore as white noise whenever the two slept together.

Years and years of shacking up with fellow Rangers who slept like the dead had made him forgetful of what it was like to have someone like that next to his side, though, exacerbated by their five year long separation.

So, he stays silent. He tries to pass it off as maybe something else, but he knows that she knows. His unsteady breaths give him away anyway, and it’s almost impossible to disguise it when the all-too-familiar shudder shoots up his spine, warm liquid coating the back of his hand.

He’d be more pissed about the sudden interruption were his brain not fixated on how warm her hands felt against his waist, cheek pressed against the breadth of his back. He hopes he was just imagining the whine he’d heard spill out from the back of his throat, but god knows it’s real.

“Man, whatever, ‘m’not going to stop you.” She grumbles, curling up against his back, making no effort whatsoever to distance herself away from him.

“...Sorry.” He chokes out, a half-hearted apology, which is met by a snort from the girl. He doesn’t know if he should feel shame or be pissed at the whole situation.

At least it’s over, he thinks, pulling his hand away from under his waistband, leaving him with the conundrum of where to wipe the damned evidence away.

He opts to wipe it on the bedsheet, a problem for the Viktor of the coming morning. He doesn’t dare shift, eyes locked into a patch of chipped paint on the wall as he contemplates what the hell had just happened, exhaustion finally edging towards his consciousness. 

Before he lets it take over, however, he whispers, “...If it’s so gross, then why didn’t you just leave?”

It takes the girl a moment to respond. He feels her shift against him, feeling a hot exhale on his back as she considers his question.

“Y’didn’t tell me to piss off,” she replies, voice quiet.

“...Really, now?”

She mumbles a “Mmm,” before nudging the back of his leg with her foot. “...Jus’ go to sleep, goddamn.”

“...Idiot.”