Intro

The swing hit his face like a freight train.

'Focus', he ordered himself while blood was slowly trickling down his lower lip. 'You've got this'. His coach was standing outside the ring, barking orders at him; Ilio could only hear his voice, not the exact words shouted at him. It didn't matter anyway, he knew his coach did it because he wanted him to feel acknowledged, supported. It worked. Ilio got his fists back up, regained posture and ground, ducked, when his opponent, Ash, tried to land another blow. Ilio used the split-seconds of Ash letting his guard down to land a strike on his own. Ash tumbled, shook his head, stepped away from Ilio, trying to get back the upper hand. Both boys were sweating like dogs, Ash's blonde hair clung to his forehead, Ilios black hair looked like he was struck by lightning.

A bell rang. End of the fight.

Both men exhaled loudly, spitting out their mouth protections, unfastening the velcro around their wrist.

Ash approached his boyfriend with furrowed brows, carefully extending his hand towards Ilios bleeding lip. "Sorry about that," he muttered.

Ilio just laughed. "It's alright," he smiled.

"I wouldn't like if you'd held back." Ash nodded, then returned the smile. "How you landed that blow after I almost had you? Pretty good, twinkletoes," he teased.

A distinct clearing of the throat turned their attention outside of the ring.

Coach Suruu looked at both of them, clearly pleased. "You guys are doing great," he said. "Ilio, nice work with your legs today. Ash is right; you used your enemies momentum to land a strike on your own. Ash, you didn't hit him as often as you could, which is smart, saving up energy. The strikes you landed clearly hurt. Well done, you two."

Both Ash and Ilio beamed. They climbed out of the ring, still glowing from the received praise as they headed for the showers.

Ilio would never get used to Ashs body and he did not mind at all. At exactly 6 foot which was only slightly taller than himself, Ash was featuring a striking athletes body, with muscles that he knew how to use. He did not have a lot of body hair and liked to keep things trimmed, just as Ilio, whose body was equally muscled but a bit more bulky. As usual, they shared a shower, gently soaping each other up, stealing kisses along the procedure.

They had picked up the boxing back in High School and were both so good at it that they got scholarships for magnificent universities on the east coast. Today was their last training before christmas-break; Ilio was looking forward to spent some time alone with Ash. Both had agreed to not visit their families this year, instead spending the spare time in the apartment they moved into 6 weeks ago. It was awesome, sharing the space you lived in with the love of your life, Ilio thought. 2 years into their relationship that had evolved out of a rather unpleasant boxing fight back in the south, he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this man, who sometimes would in one moment drive him up the walls with his stubbornness and backtalk and be vulnerable and deeply emotional in the other.

After showering and some more hygienic routines, they slowly made their way to their car, a gift from Ilios dad. Nothing fancy, but a nice solid machine, a German import with a star at the front. He grinned when the engine hummed alive, then moved the vehicle out of the parking lot into the traffic, bringing Ash and him home securely.

Ilio was more than content with how his life was unfolding in front of him. He had the boy, the apartment, the car, the money, the love. Everything was perfect. Well.

Their apartment of modest size was not too far from university and Ilio had to take some extra rounds around the block to find a parking space.

Ash was making fun out of him. "I always find a spot," he teased.

Ilio shot him a glare, offended. "And how is this possibly my fault?"

"I'm simply more likeable than you." Ashs eyes were sparkling with mischief. He knew which buttons to press to make Ilio pull his hair out. "It's like the universe just enlightens every step in front of me and I only need to follow," he mused.

Ilio huffed. "Right. Especially last sunday when the door of that sushi place swung back and hit you right in the face. A picture of grace and unison with the universe."

Now it was Ash to look baffled. "I thought you didn't see that," he mumbled, clearly cornered.

"Well," Ilio said while finally backing into a tight spot right in front of their apartment, "I did see it - obviously - and just waited for the right moment to bring it up." He killed the engine and went to the trunk to get their bags. He threw Ashs bag into his waiting arms and then fiddled with his keys.

It was cold. Really cold. Both men were freezing as Ilio failed repeatedly to unlock the front door. He just couldn't... He thought he heard steps behind him.

"What the fuck is taking you so long?," Ash asked impatiently, shivering in his light jacket.

"I don't know, the key just won't..." It was the last thing he said before strong hands gripped him and lifted him up as if he weighed nothing. His boxing instincts returned, he thrashed against the hands holding him, but their grip was like iron, holding him perfectly secure. He was dragged away from the front door, then he felt the prick of a needle in one of the protruding veins on his neck. His last thought was about Ash, then there was nothing.

Ilio woke up in a high-tech cell. There was no other word for it; the walls were a mix of metal and green light bars, slowly pulsing. He wore a simple tunic, no underwear, and thank the gods, Ash was right next to him, still unconscious. Ilio heard the faint hum of what must have been a giant engine. Gently, he shook his boyfriends shoulder. Ashs head lolled to the side, nothing more. Ilio was too smart to make a fuss out of his situation, he simply sat down next to Ash, waiting for their predicament.

It didn't take long. The doors opened with a quiet whirring and a young man stepped inside their cell, two more were waiting outside with wheelchairs.

"Sorry about that," the man said with a nod towards the still unconscious Ash. His voice sounded off, Ilio noticed an accent but could not pin down what exactly was irritating him. Rage brewed inside his chest, but he tried to stay calm.

"What is this all about?," he asked in what hopefully would be perceived as a polite tone.

The man smiled. "I'll explain along the way. Can you walk?"

Ilio nodded, then one of the bulking men stepped inside, picked Ash up and gently lowered him to the wheelchair he brought. The young man led Ilio down the hallway, which looked just like their cell - metal walls, green pulsing lights.

"First of all - you are not on earth anymore.," the young man said nonchalantly, right as they passed a circular window.

Ilio stopped in his tracks and gasped. He could see the earth - a blue dot, far away from his point of view, slowly getting smaller. "What?," was everything he managed to choke up. "Why? What are you - who are you - why..?"

Before the young man could answer, Ash stirred to life. "The fuck," he mumbled. As if in instinct, his blue eyes snapped to Ilio. Relief washed over his face when he saw him, but soon he got aware of the strange environment they were in, then he noticed the other men, the wheelchair, his tunic. "What the actual fuck?!" he yelled, trying and failing to get out of the wheelchair. A muscular hand pressed him down and Ilio noticed how gently the giant was touching Ash.

Good sign, he thought.

"Since you're both awake - this is the MX5. We took you from earth about 5 earth days ago, you've been taken care of by our medical staff in the meantime. All of your body hair has been removed, you've been fed, washed, massaged at least 2 times daily. We're heading towards what you call the planet B65-CTP, located in the next galaxy after Alpha centauri."

Ilio was still baffled, Ash was quicker. He laughed faintly. "What, you're Aliens?"

"Yes," the young man replied. "And before you ask - this is not our usual form nor our language, but in order to approach you, we developed technology to alter our appearance and to translate in real time."

"What do you want from us?" Ilio asked. He was not only curious but also deeply afraid.

"Well," the young man said, "You two are exceptional. We scanned the earth several times to find specimen like you. You meet the... criteria."

He pulled a translucent tabloid from his back pocket.

"Ilio Gray, 23, Ashton Baxter, 24. Homosexual, sharing a space, both enrolled in university, both athletes." He tucked the tabloid away.

"See, our planet lacks let's say entertainment. Studies among our people have shown growing interest in same sex couples. So we are bringing you there, to study you, modifying you along the way."

"You can't be serious," Ilio exclaimed. The two bulky men showed their presence immediately, standing straight, one of them extending a hand toward Ash, pressing him - this time way more forcefully - back to the wheelchair.

"I am," the man said simply. "You'll be safe, I assure you that. All of this is very expensive for us, you see - we've been hijacking earthlings for centuries at this point. Your rituals spark interest in letting our own kind mate, so to speak, and in the last couple of hundred years, there is a higher demand for couples of the same sex. And particularly, in a real connection between the two humans. You two are the perfect example of a good and healthy relationship." He ended as if he was expecting Ilio and Ash to just accept their fate.

Ilios first instinct was running. But that would mean to leave Ash behind, who weakly tried to get out of the damn wheelchair, which was ended by the firm hand on his shoulder. So he stayed. Reluctantly.

"If you will follow me," the man said, and all Ilio could do was obey him on wobbly knees, mind hazy from the news he had just received.

Another door opened with a faint whirring sound and they stepped into a lab with 2 operating tables. Various instruments were laid out on moveable tables next to them, the lighting was harsh, it smelled faintly like alcohol.

"We try to keep this room as familiar as possible to humans," the young man said and it sounded almost sorry. "We know you two have been through surgery. Now, if you would hop on the tables..."

Ilio exchanged a look with Ash. Ash nodded, almost unnoticeable. Then he bursted out of the wheelchair, kicked it against the bulking man standing behind it, raised his fists, ready to fight. Ilio reached for the younger man, who ran to the wall next to the door. Ilio was faster. He punched the guy right in the face - at least he tried. Searing pain shot through his hand, the guys face wobbled as if pixels from a screen had to rearrange.

"Screw this," the man mumbled. With a sigh, he pressed a button next to the door. The room filled with gas, within seconds Ilio was coughing, then he lost consciousness.

When he awoke, he laid on the table, the harsh light was hurting in his eyes. He had to cough, noticing that he had been strapped down.

"Let me go!," he demanded, voice hoarse.

Ash was squirming in equal bonds right next to him.

"After your stunt?" the voice of the young man asked. Ilio raised his head. The man used to appear young - handsome, almost, slightly shorter than Ilio with brown hair and kind brown eyes - but he had changed his appearance. Or, more precisely, had given up his disguise.

He now looked like a robot made of porcelain. Intricate golden details were sprawled against the broad chest plate of the robot, his eyes were hypnotizingly blue - otherworldly, by any means.

Ilio thrashed in his bonds, trying desperately to get away, but his restraints held him effortlessly. The robot let out a sigh.

"Why does it always has to be this way," he said.

"What are you doing to us?" Ash asked, his voice somewhere between screaming and sobbing.

"Again - no harm will be done. If anything, you'll find this extremely pleasurable."

With that, he hit a button next to him.

Gas filled the room again - but instead of taking their consciousness, Ilio and Ash felt instantly calm and relaxed.

"Much better." He turned his attention to Ilio.

"Let's begin with you."

Ilio tried to squirm away as the robot approached, which of course was fruitless due to his bonds. The robot cut his tunic open, exposing him, making him bare. The second gas had made him compliant, almost obedient, and every sensation felt... arousing. The metal in his back was suddenly transforming into the softest mattress Ilio had ever laid on. The restraints around his wrists, thighs and ankles felt like gentle hands, massaging him. Ilio closed his eyes. He couldn't do anything either way. And so far, the robot had held to his word, no pain had occurred so far.

It felt like being high on weed. But like ten times stronger without the side effects. Ilio felt how he grew harder by the second. The robot placed a blindfold over his eyes, taking away his vision, intensifying every feeling. A gentle hand began to massage his left foot. Two seconds later, another hand started to massage his right one.

Ilio sighed.

He heard Ash on the table next to him sighing, too. The hands worked at his feet masterfully, sending highly pleasurable feelings straight up to his brain. If possible, Ilio relaxed even more.

More hands appeared. It felt like the they were sensually gliding over his muscled chest and his abs, slow and deliberate. Another pair of hands focused on his thighs, stroking the inside of his legs up and down. Almost every part of his body was gently touched for what felt like an eternity.

Ilio could not help himself, halfway through the treatment he began to moan. The hands would not stop. And Ash moaning next to him only fueled his arousal.

His crotch was ignored by the hands, although his cock was fully erect by now. Slowly, the pleasure began to feel like torture. He longed to be touched more intimately, to find relief for the ache burning in his loins.

Ashs moans grew louder as well, intensified in the same moment as Ilios, when a feather like sensation attacked their nipples.

After only seconds, they stood rock hard under the ministrations, only adding to the maddening sensations. Ilio heard another hissing sound and new that more gas was filling the room. He tried to hold his breath but the second he failed to do so, he was hit by the arousing gas again and it all just got worse. Now, the hands felt more like tongues.

Even the ones at his feet. Ilio would not have believed that a tongue between his toes was arousing but he learned quickly that his cock was of a different opinion.

"Oh god," Ilio moaned, loud, when a tongue started to get dangerously close to his erection. Precum pooled on his abs, drooling lazily down his muscular sides.

From what he could hear from the other table, Ash was not doing better. The tongues changed their tactics - they got closer and closer to Ilios arousal, but never quite touching it. Ilios breath became ragged, his head spun with arousal, and even more gas was added in that moment. He felt that the once solid table, that still felt like an expensive mattress to him, split along his legs, spreading him open. Little wheels under his back pushed him further to the edge, until his ass was exposed, hanging in the air. Hands gripped his cheeks, massaging them, warming them.

It all felt incredibly good. The hands on his butt pried him open, so gradually, that Ilio did not even notice, not until he felt a tongue right there.

Ilio moaned even louder as the heavenly tongue did exactly what he liked most in bed when he was with Ash. The tongue circled his rim, licked along the sides of his hole, carefully tried to enter him, which succeeded after a few attempts, only to pull away and start over.

All of this was sensory overload and Ilio thought he might cum just from the sheer mass of pleasure he was exposed to. He couldn't even hear Ash next to him anymore; it was just all too much, too many touches, too many sensations at once.

If Ilio wouldn't be blindfolded, he would have noticed the faintest smirk on the aliens face. The two boys, writhing in pleasure, did spark a sense of excitement in him, a longing for mating that was only triggered when watching human arousal. His interface informed him about the current arousal-levels of his captives - once they hit 95%, he could go on with the next step, and they were not far from it.

The tongue on his anus retracted and Ilio felt almost disappointed. But then he felt something well-lubed and blunt pressing at his entrance, and he sighed, desperately wanting to be filled, to be made to cum. He allowed his muscles to somewhat loosen, letting the invader slip inside gently and slow, inch by heavenly inch. It started to move, with each motion outward it would press in a little further inside, until it was sheathed all the way inside him. That was when the tongue came back, probing and circling his rim, never interfering with the object that moved inside him, rubbing deliciously against his prostate.

If Ilio was aroused at this point, now he was writhing on the table in sheer agony. Each time the object brushed against his P-spot, more precum would drool out of his cock, which was as hard as steel now, straining against his abs. Ilio literally saw stars. He couldn't even moan anymore, he was just focused on all the pleasure that was coursing threw him.

Neither of the bound men noticed the needle that was approaching their thighs, neither of them felt the prick or saw how the liquid was forced into their bodies. The robot hummed, content.

Ilio was kept on the edge of release for what felt like hours. He was sure that the slightest touch on his cock would make him cum, the overwhelming orgasm that loomed was overdue. Sweat pooled around him on the table, his face was red, chest flushed. He wanted to cum. Needed to.

As if on cue, two tongues emerged, licked gently all the way from his taint, stayed a while on his balls, then traced a long, wet line all the way up to the head of his cock.

He didn't last long. The tongues were focused on the underside of his dick and his leaking cockhead, lapping away the fluids it produced. In combination with the pressure on his prostate and the sensations of the third tongue on his ass, he came.

It felt like a wave. The familiar initial sensation of his balls coming close to his body, tightening up, then the first, almost violent shot of come up his length. Ilio screamed as rope after rope shot from his body, he didn't notice how his come never reached his chest, how it was carefully caught in a clear container by one of the aliens. He kept coming, thrashing, back arched as high as the restraints would allow him to.

The ministrations did not stop. If anything, they intensified. When an artificial mouth engulfed his cock, he felt a second orgasm coursing through his body, then he passed out.