FicWad

Paolo sat back tiredly, wishing he could just go home. The parade - the Gothopolis City Annual Parade and Festival - was far too loud for his tastes, and the floats seemed mediocre entertainment at best. Kids ran back and forth around him with sticky candy, balloons, and toys of the city's famous heroes - Amazing Grace, Paul the Strong, Toni Canolli, and various others. Paolo admired them, sure - but not like a kid did. He truly appreciated what they did, and thought a parade with giant, deformed, air-filled versions of them was a bit of a weak tribute. That didn't stop him from nearly jumping up when he heard a little girl shout out the name of his favorite hero - Zaxiton, the half-alien, energy-harnessing, flying homosexual. Aside from his strangely blue-tinted hair and his completely white eyes, he was relatively human-like in appearance. Unfortunately, his own balloon did him little justice, and Paolo noticed somewhat bitterly that he looked a bit like a pre-hero alien stereotype, with eyes too large, nose too small, expressionless face, and bulbous forehead.

Is that any way to treat the hero who proved to the nation that gays aren't evil? He crossed his arms as he sat back again and huffed out a sigh. His friends, Georgine, Jamie, and Randy took little notice; Georgine was too busy buying souvenirs and jumping with glee every time a marching band passed, while Jamie and Randy were off somewhere, most likely coming close to breaking the law for public nudity. They had never been particularly good at controlling their hormones. Then again, he couldn't really blame them - they were only eighteen, after all, and still in the summer between high school and college. With Jamie going away to a city with more prestigious schools and Randy staying in Gothopolis to attend their good-but-not-great university, the two often seemed to feel as though all their time was slipping away too fast, and that they needed to use what they had together.

Still, he could usually complain to Jamie, at least, who often agreed with him on such issues; Georgine was far too childlike to take anything seriously, and, anyway, far too engrossed in the parade to bother talking to him for a moment.

Paolo closed his eyes, wishing the parade would go quicker. It wasn't as though he couldn't get up and walk home at any time, but his friends might wonder where he went, and he didn't want to say he missed the parade, no matter how boring he found it. No one in Gothopolis missed the parade.

With the first scream, Paolo only felt some annoyance, assuming it was some overexcited young thing being startled by the antics of friends or just too full of the excitement to stay still and quiet. After the next few screams, however, he began to get worried, and when the screams became intermingled with gasps and the nearest marching band abruptly ceased playing, his eyes shot open - just in time to see a dark figure soaring overhead and a float of Amazing Grace go up in flames.

It was the White Bandit, cackling cruelly as he swept down to the ground, causing several mascots and bystanders to duck in fear. The White Bandit never seemed to have much in particular to do, exactly, as other villains did; he merely came by to cause an uproar. He was the kind of guy who found that fun. Of course, he usually tried to snatch some purses and jewels on the way, and found a sadistic pleasure in pushing over old ladies and endangering the lives of civilians. More than four dozen deaths had been attributed to him as he caused large objects to fall from dangerous heights and set buildings aflame.

Paolo realized the White Bandit was coming towards him a moment too late. If he had attempted to get out of his chair, the small bomb that had been thrown would still have been too close for him to escape unharmed. Paolo closed his eyes, not wanting to see the explosives head toward his lap, just before he was jerked out of his lawnchair and held, child-like, in strong arms.

He cracked one eye open and, at first, could only see the jaw and left ear of his savior - or, at least, the savior of his balls, but he was certain then that he couldn't live without those anyway. He barely resisted the temptation to make sure they were definitely there. Opening his other eye, he noticed blue hair swept back by the wind around the one visible ear. Zaxiton.

"You got there fast," he breathed, partially because the sudden flight had nearly knocked the wind out of him and partially because he was speaking right into the half-alien's ear anyway.

"We were watching the parade," he replied, not looking down at Paolo. He spoke in two tones at once, a gift from his alien mother. To some his voice, which could not be properly distinguished in televised press conferences, which offered, at best, a far-back view of the city's heroes, was frightening; to others, including Paolo, it was melodic.

"You were?" It occurred to Paolo that he sounded relatively unintelligent, but he was still caught up in the idea that he had actually been saved by a superhero and was soaring up towards the clouds. Zaxiton didn't seem to care, in any case.

"We anticipated some level of crime with such a large-scale event." Zaxiton paused, and then Paolo just barely noticed a just-visible corner of his mouth turning up. "Besides, we like to enjoy the celebration, too."

"Oh." Of course; why shouldn't they be at a parade that was, in part, dedicated to them? Those with secret identities were probably among the masses leaning as far into the roads as possible, and those without - like Zaxiton - were likely watching from rooftops or special seating. Even if the ones in casual dress couldn't be called to duty, Zaxiton and the other maskless heroes could easily spring to action to prevent any harm from coming to the citizens of Gothopolis.

It seemed to be a long time before they reached the top of the nearest building, where Zaxiton set Paolo down, out of harm's way. He felt his breath come back to him with full force when his feet once again met solid ground, and he peered over the edge just as Zaxiton circled once, watching the activity below. Though obviously jittery, the crowd seemed to be calming already; not far down the road, Paolo saw the White Bandit, his hovering scooter broken and clutched to his chest, held still by the Pink Canary, a mutant with skin the same shade Paolo's sister used as lipstick.

"Looks like they've taken care of it," Paolo said, eyes fixed on the commotion below as Zaxiton settled next to him. The fear had ebbed away, but he could still feel the thrill of it running through him, and he couldn't stop the arousal. He saved your life! he thought, wanting to stop it, to stop himself from getting hard, only half-wondering if it would even be unwelcome. "I can go down-"

He'd meant to say "get down on my own", but his voice had cracked on "can" and he could almost hear the Freudian slip before it happened. He wondered if he was blushing, stealing a glance at his savior. Zaxiton had merely raised one blue eyebrow, the corner of his mouth turned up again. "Oh? Can you?"

Paolo decided the best way out was to turn it into a joke - even a lame one. Only it didn't really come out as one. "Of course I can. I do it all the time." Good job, Paolo. Instead of sounding horny, you just sound like a slut.

"Do you want to?"

Paolo's head shot up. Zaxiton was still smirking, but Paolo could tell he was serious. "I - er, that is, I want to, but you - you don't have to, Zaxiton... if you don't want-"

"I want," the half-alien said, cutting him off. Paolo felt relief first, and then a surge of excitement - The only gay superhero in Gothopolis wants to fuck me! He shifted, and that brought his hero's eyes down to his now obvious erection. "And you can call me 'Zax', if you'd like."

"Zax," Paolo breathed, like it was some horribly dirty word that only he knew.

Zax stepped closer. "It's easier to shout out when you come."

Paolo groaned. He felt mildly embarrassed - it didn't seem fair that he could be so physically affected while the half-alien hero was so calm and composed, though he supposed he should expect that of a man who saved the world on a daily basis - but couldn't pay attention to that at the moment. There were more important things at the moment. Things like touching Zax, and the fact that he was going to have sex with a half-alien in a costume. Well, he wouldn't be in the costume in a little while, if Paolo had any say.

"Where do you live?"

"Kore Apartments," Paolo struggled to say, reaching out but unsure where to touch Zax first. Zax moved closer, answering for him as Paolo's hand slipped over his shoulder, wrapping around his neck. "Vanderbuilt Street. Top floor, fifteen-C."

Zax moved into him, against him, grabbing him by the ass and lifting him as he left the ground, tongue diving immediately into Paolo's mouth, nothing sweet and tender, nothing to make the civilian think it was anything that might last. He didn't care. Zax's hands massaged, his tongue explored, and he flew quickly, blindly, eyes closed, but ending up hovering just outside the brunet's apartment. A window was open - it was a hot day - and they tumbled through, barely staying upright as Zax brought their feet down, one hand moving from his ass up to his neck, slowly, gaining more control in the kiss as Paolo submitted fully, resigning himself to sucking Zax's tongue lightly and kneading the base of his neck, his other hand still on Zax's hip.

Zax broke away for a moment, not even slightly breathless. "Your room?"

Paolo nodded down the hall. "On the left," he said, quickly moving to bite and lick the half-alien's neck and shoulder. He noticed that Zax's skin was glowing slightly, but ignored it - it probably had something to do with his powers, in any case - as he was pushed backwards gently until he registered that he was supposed to go to his room. Concentrating half on the task of finding his room blindly, half on that of tasting the pale, glowing skin, he moved slowly, gradually, nearly stumbling when Zax finally groaned in pleasure. The idea of actually pleasing a superhero, a half-alien superhero was completely surreal. His back met the door of his room, and he reached blindly for the doorknob, his other hand clutching the blue hair - it felt surprisingly normal - and the door fell open and they stumbled again.

Zax looked up - neck just out of Paolo's reach - to take in the room, and Paolo knew he was blushing. With two younger brothers, a sister, and a father who'd remarried after his wife's death divided among three bedrooms, he was definitely lacking private space. He'd tried to be neat a few months back, putting clothes away or in a laundry pile when they were dirty, but his younger brothers just didn't go with it. Dirty socks and shorts were strewn across the room, children's toys his brothers still played with were settled in the most dangerous spots, and then there was the bunk bed on the left side of the room, opposite his own bed, complete with racing car sheets. He kept his eyes down, embarrassed and cursing himself for not thinking. The couch would have been better. But there was Zax's erection, poking into his hip.

"Brothers?" Zax asked, and his breathing actually seemed a little stuttered.

"Yeah," Paolo replied, looking back up. Zax didn't seem amused, wasn't teasing him - he was, instead, looking right back at Paolo, slightly perplexed and certainly aroused.

"Are you embarrassed? It's not a problem," Zax soothed, the hand on the small of his back - having traveled there from his neck, while the other had also drifted lower to stroke his thigh - moving in circles for a moment.

"It's filthy," Paolo protested, though it was weak, and meant to be. Like I'm going to try to stop a sexy superhero from staying to have sex with me. He moved his left hand from the half-alien's hip and tugged his arm, leading them both to his bed. They tumbled onto it, Paolo sandwiched between Zax and the mattress, breath leaving him again for a moment. Then that was it; they were there, on his bed, and moving was no longer an issue.

Arousal took over, and Zax's ravished Paolo's mouth with his tongue, hands moving to cup and squeeze the civilian's ass again. He tugged, and cock met cock through jeans and whatever material the half-alien's costume was made out of. Paolo gasped, jerked, and bit down suddenly on the foreign tongue in his mouth, though Zax didn't complain, just gripping his ass harder. Paolo's hips jerked up, and the alien groaned, sending shivers down the black-haired boy's spine. With the half-alien's two voices groaning together, he had to fight not to lose control right away.

His right hand moved to thumb one of Zax's nipples, wondering vaguely if aliens responded to the same stimuli as humans during sex, when he suddenly realized that he had no lubricant with him. His brothers were invasive and had found his last tube. He suspected they'd probably covered themselves in the stuff, but he had come home from work one day to find his stepmother furious and the tube gone. He hadn't bought any more yet, figuring it might be a waste of money until he could find a better place to hide it. Or went to college, which was probably going to happen first. He cursed himself again - but how could he have been expected to be prepared for /this/? - and pushed on Zax's chest.

"Roll over." Zax obeyed, though only after biting at Paolo's bottom lip, chin, and neck. He looked over at Paolo - or, at least, Paolo assumed he was looking, but it was hard to tell when the man had no visible irises or pupils - and waited for him to do something. Paolo was, however, perplexed by the costume; it was skin-tight, and didn't seem to have any easy or obvious way of removing it. He looked into Zax's eyes and quirked an eyebrow, and the alien smiled with only a little amusement before putting a fingertip to the center of the costume's collar in the front. His fingertip glowed - and Paolo willed himself not to think of ET while aroused - and, as he dragged it downward, the suit separated neatly, the blue "Z" that stood bold against the white bisected. As chest was exposed and his finger slowly, tantalizingly neared his navel, Paolo wondered if Zaxiton - or other heroes with skin-tight suits - went commando. To his disappointment, he didn't; he had on dark blue briefs, though he was easily able to push them down, cock springing up and out. His legs and arms were still clad in the material, and he had not taken off his white boots or gloves, but Paolo hardly cared, barely noticed, his attention focused all on one point.

He only admired for a moment, having already made his decision of how exactly to go about it, before licking the head, getting only a quick taste of the bitter precome. It wasn't horrible - he'd given head before, and it wasn't as bitter as he found it to be among the few boys he'd dated in high school - and he bent his head to do it again almost immediately after, kissing the tip before running his tongue down the base of Zax's cock. He heard Zax hiss a long "yes" and did it again, closing his lips around the head and lingering for a moment before pulling off. Hands were reaching into his hair, fingers stroking the back of his neck, pulling slightly, encouraging. /Best not to make the man who saved my life wait/, he thought, and engulfed as much of Zax's cock as he could.

Physically, Paolo couldn't be more thankful for Zax's divide in human and alien qualities. While his cock was, of course, very human to touch, smell, taste, and sight, he had no chest hair and, likewise, no pubic hair. Though he would have thought otherwise, he was circumcised, and, although perhaps larger than Paolo himself, not so large than he felt puny in comparison. He moved up and down slowly, with an even rhythm, unrelenting to the gentle but now stronger pull of hands on his head. He didn't want to make him wait, but he also thought he owed him a little more than a quick blowjob. He was going to make it as enjoyable as he could. He worked his tongue as best he could, laving the underside of Zax's cock and he pulled up, swirling it as he went down. Zax's chest began to rise and fall rapidly as he panted, and when he finally let himself close his eyes - Paolo wasn't sure if he'd been watching him or not, and not just because he was concentrating - Paolo hummed, his right hand gripping the base of his cock, his moving to stroke his balls. Zax's eyes shot back open and he gasped, fingers clutching Paolo's hair harder. Without a cock in his mouth, Paolo would have smiled.

It went faster then, part of it the pull of Zax's hands, part of it Paolo's own free will - he'd expected the reaction and let the hands guide him, but made it easier on himself by moving his head faster on his own. He lost his rhythm and hummed, gripped, and stroked when it was easiest, no longer able to concentrate on doing all three at once. Zax's hips jerked up once before he found his control again, and his skin began to glow brighter. Paolo took that - and, of course, the panting, faster than before - as a signal, but didn't pull back as he usually might have, dedicating himself for those moments to pleasing the man who'd saved his life - though that hardly seemed a factor of it now. Breathing in deeply through his nose, he went down as far as he could manage, trying to open his throat, left hand stroking Zax's balls. A fraction of a second later Zax came, crying out unintelligibly - had Paolo even told him his name? - and digging his fingertips into Paolo's skull, his skin glowing so bright so suddenly he seemed to explode in light.

Paolo swallowed as best he could, but had to pull back, choking slightly. He'd never really gotten the hang of swallowing perfectly. Come splattered on his chin, joining what was already dribbling down, as well as on Zax's stomach and the edge of his suit. He didn't seem to care, his eyes closed again, his hands falling from Paolo's hair. He was still for a moment, then opened his eyes and, with a subdued glow to his skin, pulled at Paolo's neck. The civilian crawled up his body, his erection almost painful as it bumped against Zax's leg through his jeans, eagerly meeting his mouth.

Zax made a small "mmm" sound in both his voices, and Paolo wondered if it had anything to do with tasting his own semen on someone else's tongue. He knew he found it to be slightly erotic in its own way, though still bitter and not the biggest turn-on. He whimpered into the half-alien's mouth, tongue stroking Zax's, rocking into his hip as a reminder that he had not yet gotten off. Zax had not forgotten, though, and was already pulling at Paolo's zipper, reaching into his boxers to grip his cock. It didn't look like he'd be getting a return blowjob, but he figured it was fair, remembering, of course, that Zaxiton had saved that cock and those balls, so he might as well use them how he pleased. He stroked him lazily, his other hand moving down to cup his balls, as Paolo propped himself up on his elbows, breaking from their now lazier kissing to gasp and pant, already turned on from pleasing the half-alien.

Paolo thrust down, looking directly into Zax's eyes. Zax blinked, stroking harder, faster. Paolo moaned loudly, thrusting again as Zax reached up to lick his neck, sucking and biting the skin before licking again. Paolo jerked away, lips crashing down on the half-alien's, mouth open and tongue begging. Zax's tongue thrusted in as Paolo thrusted down, and Zax jerked harder, thumb brushing the head of Paolo's cock. His left hand moved from Paolo's balls to his right nipple, brushing it lightly first, then pinching just as Paolo thrust down, as he rubbed the head of his cock, and as he nipped at Paolo's tongue. Paolo's head jerked back, crying out Zax's name as he came, shivering and jerking against him. He collapsed completely onto the half-alien, still panting.

They rested for a moment, but Paolo knew they had to get up; suddenly, he feared his friends might come looking for him, or his siblings might return from the parade early, and he got up, grabbing tissues to wipe himself off, handing a handful to Zax before pulling his boxers up and zipping his jeans. Zax moved more lazily, licking some of the semen from his fingers before wiping the rest off. It didn't seem to have stained his suit, and, using his fingertip again, he casually closed his suit up, looking relaxed and sated.

"Someone might come in," Paolo said, trying to explain his nervousness. Zax smiled at him, heaving himself off the bed and pulling Paolo into another kiss, long and slow, skin still glowing faintly.

"Thank you," the half-alien whispered into his ear, giving it a lick, and Paolo thought it was probably a little ironic that Zax was the one thanking him after saving his life. He couldn't think of how to properly respond, though, so he just smiled as best he could. "I'll let myself out."

Paolo watched with some renewed awe as Zax opened his window and leapt out, dropping a few feet before rising into the air again, not looking back. He was broken from his reverie by the sound of his cell phone, still in his pocket, jumping before fumbling to open it and answer with a hasty "Yeah?"

"Oh, thank God. Where are you?" Jamie. "Georgine said she'd seen you near where the White Bandit hit, but the police said no one was hurt. We couldn't find you."

"I'm okay," he replied, looking out the window again. Zax was long gone.

"Where are you?" Jamie repeated, sounding both annoyed and relieved.

"I - I went home. I'm at home."

"Did you see Zaxiton?" Jamie knew he was Paolo's favorite hero. "They said he was there with Pink Canary and Disco Vance, but I didn't see him."

"Yeah," Paolo responded, turning from the window finally. "Yeah, I saw him."