Author Notes: When Pinky wants porn, Pinky gets porn. Written for the 'write my interests' meme.

Pairings or Characters: Volkner/Roark
Word Count:
Roark is oddly stubborn about safety rules while there's something more important happening at the moment.

Safety First

Roark let out a quiet whimper as Volkner unbuttoned his pants with a skilled hand and reached beneath the waistband of his boxers.

"W-Wait," he mumbled, fingers digging into Volkner's jacket, causing the blond to pause.

"What is it?" Volkner asked, trying and failing not to sound impatient.

"W-We're underground," Roark pointed out.

"I'm aware of that," Volkner replied, biting at the redhead's neck and dragging a short cry out of him.

Cornering Roark while on one of his digging expeditions was about the only chance Volkner had of actually getting any sex out of him without great risk of being interrupted. He knew Roark was rather enthusiastic about his hobby, but he was fairly confident sex with him was higher on the "Roark's Favorite Activities" list than digging, so he decided to continue. His hand resumed moving downward until he was cupping Roark in his palm. Kneading him teasingly, he waited until Roark let out one of his delicious moans before he began to stroke him.

"B-But you are--ah!" Roark tried to explain, but found himself unable to finish his sentence as Volkner squeezed his stirring erection.

"I'm what?" Volkner asked teasingly, pressing a thumb into the head of Roark's length and getting a needy groan in response.

"You aren't-- nngh, Volkner!" Roark cried as the blond's fist suddenly sped up.

"Come on, Roark, you can tell me," Volkner purred into Roark's ear, stroking him faster and faster.

"You aren't wearing a helmet," Roark panted finally, fingers grabbing even harder onto Volkner, whose hand slowed in surprise until a whimper from Roark snapped him back to attention.

"I didn't realize you were such a stickler for rules," Volkner laughed, giving him a kiss on his nose and using a free hand to pull Roark's helmet off and place it on himself. Roark glanced up at him with a frown before resting his forehead back on Volkner's chest.

"Now I'm n-not wearing one," Roark mumbled.

Volkner smiled into red hair and stroked particularly slow before whispering, "Don't worry, my hard head'll protect you." Roark came with a startled shout, shoulders shaking as his back snapped taut, coating Volkner's hand.

Face still hidden against Volkner's chest, Roark managed to grumble once he'd caught his breath, "That's hardly practical or safe."

"It was supposed to be romantic," Volkner shrugged, digging around the inside of his pocket for something to clean his other hand with. He felt Roark press harder against him and blinked downwards before grinning.

"... Yeah," Roark muttered, face burning pink.