Authors note: Part 2, reposted with revisions. Content warning: Explicit Sexual content, 18+, reader discretion strongly advised.

So. This is how we're gonna die.

The voice echoed in his ear and Krieg shifted in the rusted lawn chair, trying to find a spot where the residual sand wasn't riding up into his pants. Underneath him the runner hummed and his knee bounced along with it, idling on the platform.

I always thought it'd be Hyperion. Or bandits. Or a lucky bullymong. Death by roadkill might be fitting though.

The other vault hunters climbed aboard the runner one by one, bickering amongst themselves for the driver's seat. Zer0's hologram flickered in the gunner seat, having called dibs on that spot. Kriegs head spun watching it, as the turret seat itself went around and around but the sputtering hologram was motionless, digital.

This is a bad idea. The sentiment ping-ponged around his skull like a screensaver. His neck twitched with anticipatory glee whenever it hit the corner just right.

Greasy, unoccupied fingers picked at the peeling duct tape attaching the seat, perched above the metal grate of the runner's turbo booster. His other hand gripped the railing in front of him, already attuned to the scratch of metal on metal as the lawn chair slipped.

Krieg snapped his head forward to listen as the others bickered, nerves a little dull from the forehead down. The words poured back out his ears more often than they were understood, but he managed to garner some scant meaning from the jumbled mess.

Axton wanted to drive but Sal wanted to drive and Zer0 wanted to shoot but Gaige wanted to shoot and over it all, Maya tried to mediate with dwindling patience. Krieg stripped off another foot of duct tape.

Hey, the voice shouted, and the ping-pong words drove into the fleshy space between his eyes. Duct tape isn't gonna keep us from falling off the bumper, but it would help if you weren't pulling it off, jackass.

Krieg didn't want to hear it. He slammed his forehead into the railing, shouting: "No backseat DRIVERS! You want fun? Come get your HALF PRICE PING-PONG PADDLES, dominatrix NOT included!"

Zer0 materialized for real only to flash a ':D' emoji Krieg's way, which could have either meant amusement or agreement, he wasn't sure.

Maya shot them a disapproving look and rolled her eyes. In front of her Axton and Sal seemed about ready to duel and she wasn't in the mood to heal both of them, more likely she'd leave the loser tied to the Catch-A-Ride platform. She was inclined to ask Krieg to crush Salvador into a compact ball that'd fit in the glove compartment, and doubly eager to have Axton tied up with vending machine cords and strapped to the hood.

Her psycho was busy banging his forehead into the railing so she shrugged the thought off and suggested her friends do the mature thing.

"Rakks paper scissors." She interjected, shouting over a mix of angry Spanish and Axton's increasingly heated military bark, "Now."

"Oh c'mon, Maya. We're not children." Axton said, after acting like a child for nearly a half-hour. The argument resumed as if she'd never spoken and Maya pinched the bridge of her nose. Kriegs eye twitched watching it all. The tape peeled and peeled, waiting, and waiting, after already waiting so long-

"Ghhrah- TICK TOCK!" Krieg smacked the body of the car with an open palm and screamed over the squabbling, "Stack your sorry sardines into the can or I WILL turn this car around!"

Ax and Sal threw rakks paper scissors for the driver's seat. Axton won, Salvador took the blunt end of his shotgun to bruise the soldiers shins regardless. The rest of the hunters piled in wherever they could fit and Maya watched, adjusting Gaige in her spot to keep her from slipping off the edge. The younger girl clung tight to the side with her metal fist and Krieg couldn't help but feel proud seeing Gaige hanging on like a true psycho. It's all in the shoulder, he wanted to add, if he was coherent enough to coach her.

Maya hopped down from Gaige's side and gave the mess a once-over. "Is everybody on board?"

"Everybody's in." Axton said with a wink, "Everybody but you, princess."

She ignored the comment for his sake. Maybe she should've tied him to the hood after all, but knowing him he might enjoy it. "I've got a spot. Rev the engine Ax, we're getting out of here."

He whistled and another flirty jab rolls out of his mouth. "10-4, hot stuff."

Maya was beyond caring but Krieg shot him a dirty look in the rearview mirror as Ax tweaked it.

"Keep your hands INSIDE THE VEHICLE, PRETTY BOY." He shouted, and Axton met his glare in the mirror. Kriegs evil-eye was greeted by a flash of sunlight invading his retinas, glinting off the reflection of Axton's white teeth.

Krieg squinted at the row of perfect white. The light, the white, the numbness of his head and the heat down his spine, recalled the memory of gleaming enamel, of an unperturbed golf ball perched on a desk. Beside it was a framed photo of the good doctor, the one that stunk of mints and cat piss, the one with nine fingers in Krieg's memory but ten in the photo.

The photographer had captured Doc at the height of his swing, nine-iron high, and Krieg imagined the spray of Axton's teeth on the green, sending his skull splitting with one swing. Maybe a whole golf course of perfect dentistry, lined up hole by hole, maw by maw, one jaw onto the next, and God, he might never get the stains out of his golf-slacks. He imagined a golf trophy, a gold cup filled to the brim with teeth like movie popcorn, the mental image was so good he didn't notice Mayas voice until she was shouting in his ear.

"Krieg!" The breeze of her breath yanked him off the golf course and back into the lawn chair, onto the runner and the blasts of hot air from the plains around. Sunlight haloed her, spilled shadows onto him, and he reveled in her eclipse, trying to make out her words, read her lips, peel the tennis skirt off with a yank that translated into another foot of duct tape peeled off the chair. She shouted over the rumbling engine, pointing at his lap.

"Is this spot taken?"

They hurtled down a Hyperion highway pushing ninety in a bucket. The chair creaked, tape fluttered, and the psycho's hands were locked in place for dear life. One meaty paw gripped the railing and other, gentler, her hip. So gentle that he'd tried to hover rather than touch, and more than once Maya had reached down to tighten his grip on her with her hand above his. Each time he felt another wave of blood flee his brain.

Above spanned the endless blue sky at noon. The tiniest spec of a city on the Horizon reflected the light off of monumental skyscrapers and Maya could spot, even at this distance, the shimmer of a bubble shield outlined in hexagons. The highway bridge that connected Pandora's cleanest corporate zit stretched on for ages, miles, as far as Jack could manage to escape mainland.

She could've shed tears of joy to be in motion again, feel the wind on her skin. It whipped her hair behind her and she hovered over Kriegs lap like a jockey on a racetrack, bouncing with each bump in the road.

Tendrils of electric blue whipped into his face, and his outer half would have tried to catch them in his mouth if not for the mask. He knew for a fact that they weren't raspberry-flavored but the scent of her shampoo slipped through, smelling like berries on sweat and he wanted to breathe it in, to taste it, sweet and salty all over his tongue and then, well, he was sent back to square one, short tennis skirts and yellow tape.

Another jab from the backseat: If we ask nicely, it taunted, maybe she'll sit on our face instead.

Krieg jerked his head back in retort, "Shut shut SHUT up! I will turn this car around, MISTER!"

"You good back there?" Maya shouted over her shoulder and Krieg jumped. He had loosened his grip as he yelled. Given the speed, Maya was worried she might fall right off without him to hold her there. Krieg lightly butted his head between her shoulder blades and sighed.

"PEACHY KEEN."

"Hold on tighter, then!" She said, "I feel like we're gonna fall if you don't, and I'm not eager to see what my arm looks like without the skin!"

She'd been riding above him up until this point, keeping her stance above his lap. Over the last few bumps, she'd allowed herself to fall lower, dipping to grind onto his lap. The runner crested another bump along the concrete bridge and Maya bounced into his lap. She gripped the railing to steady and his palm flattened on her hip, pads to the blue skin. The lawn chair was slipping.

"Click-it or TICKET," He shouted back, hand firm on her hip. "Time for a crash-test!"

A few heads turned to listen to their back and forth, Zer0 and Gaige specifically, but they turned back around and the spectacle passed. They seemed to ignore the hum of voices unless Krieg yelled, and so far his attempt to diffuse the tension was going about as smoothly as the roadkill they bumped over.

Maya pressed his palm firmer into her side, into the meat of her hip where calloused fingertips met smooth skin and he squeezed reverently. Krieg did as he was told, gripped her and pulled her down. Maya was nonplussed by the building grind, by bouncing in his lap, but things were beginning to stiffen not far south.

Something else, the voice screamed, think about literally anything else.

"Guh huh huhh, doncha' love a little blood loss?" He murmured, "Can't pitch a tent without a few BONES."

His head jerked around, another jab from the inside, an exasperated echo. Just try not to poke her, will you?

Krieg hung his head and stared down at his lap where, yes, there was a problem arising.

Maya was sitting there, and every bump and jolt of Axton's shitty driving bounced her in his lap, grinding against his problem.

He distracted himself. His eye followed the grooves of her combat suit that wove and dipped, that reunited in one zippered line down her spine. There was the sweet hug of the fabric, the reflection of the sun on her yellow metal armor, and every little nick and cut that allowed slivers of her skin shine through. And then there was the best distraction: her tattoos.

Little bubbles of shape, curling over her skin like lace.

Tattoos on her arm, her shoulder, tattoos that dipped behind her suit to hide demurely from his eye. Krieg followed the dips and flourishes and his hand drifted away from her hip, tracing where he thought the blue rivers might flow beneath. One meaty index finger swirled the symbols in her skin and he brushed up her spine to the junction where her turtleneck ended and her fuzzy patch of hair began and, what do you know, there are tattoos beneath the hair, starburst curls of blue.

His palm covered the back of her head easily. He ran his fingers through the fluff, gently massaging, testing, brushing the hair aside to follow the designs.

"Having fun?" Mayas hand met his and Krieg snapped back to reality.

"What did I just say about holding on?" She sighed, exasperated, but she'd leaned into the touch a moment before. Maya shook her head and leaned down into his lap, against his chest, so close that a whisper was enough. She could look him in the eye if she strained to look, "You're sweet but c'mon, hold onto me. Here,"

Her hand guided his hand from the nape of her neck down, pulling his palm down the curve of her shoulder, over the swell of her breast plate, her ribcage, her hip and thigh, until she affixed his grip there. Maya pressed his splayed fingers into the soft fabric of her inner thigh and his brain convulsed. Then she withdrew, leaving his digits to twitch in ecstatic horror at the proximity of it all.

The look he gave her must've been severe, Maya laughed at the way his eye flicked down and up again, panicking, but she just shook her head and gripped the railing.

"I told you to hold on tight."

It was a joke, a tease, an invitation, and the ball was in his court. He was left there, groping the inside of her thigh, clinging to it when they bounced.

Krieg labored to breathe. This is bad, he thought, attuned to the problem undoubtedly rubbing up the crux of her legs, very very very bad.

Miles of the highway remained and Krieg felt tension build with every bump, every pull and grind, and Maya could feel it, brush against him when she dipped down. She cast a look over her shoulder, cheeks reddening and not from the sun. It was a game, Krieg realized, and he might as well win.

The mask had to go. He shoved it up over his nose with one desperate motion and he was blind, but free. The hand rushed back to hold the railing, creaking it in his grip. Maya gasped, jumped forward when he buried his face in her scalp. As instructed, he pulled her back, holding tight.

"What the hell?" She hissed back at him, but the annoyance in her tone fell into a groan when the kissing began. Krieg pressed his nose into her scalp, breathing in the berries with gulps of air. He grunted at her protest and smothered kisses into her hair, behind her ears, down the nape of her neck..

"God, Krieg-!" Maya gasped and nearly lost her grip. He kissed whatever he could reach in a wild desperate smatter, panting between mumbled half-words that Maya felt rather than heard, her back pressed into rumbling the cage of his chest. He sucked on her earlobe and she ground down into him, hard.

Maya squirmed and his grip tightened on the inside of her thigh. She reeled forward and spasmed when his digits brushed closer to her middle. As if sensing her impending protest he pulled her in again, licked his dry lips and leaned into her ear. "Don't worry, sweetmeats." Krieg groaned, "it's a good touch." His tongue darted out to wet the shell of her ear and Mayas lips parted. They fell back into a slow, dirty grind.

Her weight shifted in his lap. She freed her hand and in the next instant she yanked him up by the collar. The lawn chair threatened to blow right off the edge and the leather bit into his neck, but pain translated into a burst of pleasure. Their motion forced a repeat of his thrust, grinding up into her. The fabric of their pants was hot and damp, adding to the drag, the sweet friction of it all.

"More," She angled to breathe into his ear and strangle him with the collar, twisting tighter, tighter. "Keep doing that- whatever that is. Harder," She's whispering as if the wind hasn't carried her voice away, "-please."

Their friends were five feet away. Axton's mug in the rearview window, Gaige clinging to the side. In a sick way, it was even better because of all that, because they might get caught, and he was in no position to refuse.

"You gotta' choke it outta me." He bit out as they sunk into the lawn chair, "Please, please, please, choke me please." Krieg whined into her ear, "More, more, MORE pain!"

More fuzzy kisses, smothered into her neck, more friction where they meet, grinding together. His fingertips brushed against the crotch of her pants and he received a hard yank on the leather neckband, a resounding 'yes'.

Maya felt her soul leave her body when Zer0's head jerked to the side, a rush of adrenaline when he ignored them and stayed his gaze front. Just the thought of what they're doing was getting her off.

"I can such be a good boy," Krieg whined in her ear, "Harder! Yank me, spank me, God I'm gonna season you JUST right, just the way you like it if you, gah, if you, hah..." She clenched her fist and crushed his windpipe, leaving him to pant and grind. His eye rolled back into his skull and the thought died. There was an explosion building, tight as a drum, racing closer like a runner on the freeway.

"Shh," Maya hissed and yanked again. No meant yes, yes meant no, yank meant harder and quieter and more. "A little quieter, please, and for fucks sake harder, Krieg."

"Yes ma'am," He grunted, closing in on his finish line, "Harder ma'am!"

Maya twisted, airflow stopped and the grinding did not stop it mounted, and mounted, and built, and when Maya jerked her body forward he pulled her in to slam her down onto him. The groping was desperate, his breathing erratic, and he stifled his moan into the fuzz of her hair as he finished, sending bubbles of mess through the fabric of his pants, spitting onto her pants.

Krieg panted, drooled, and threw subtlety to the wind. He took her needs into his own hand vis-à-vis the clitoris, rubbing her with the same frantic need.

"God," Maya hissed, "God, God, God, God! Fuck, fuck!" She squirmed, moaned, cursed like he'd never heard but it was the sweetest sound.

"Louder." He breathed in her air, "Louder."

"No! God, Krieg!" Her moans were soft and low and just for him, but his pleading broke her over the edge.

Maya said it again when she found her finish line, 'God', she gasped and was rocked by the rubbing of his slick fingers down her slit. She came, jerked her hips into his hand as Krieg rubbed a wet divot into the crotch of her pants.

After a minute she brushed him away gently and he gripped the rail. His fingers were sticky, and if they weren't hanging on for dear life he might've even tasted it. Krieg shook his head, spent, and held onto her instead.

Maya slumped back down, looking up at him from his lap with big eyes, completely lost in the haze. She breathed out slowly and they eased back into reality. The world fell into place around them, the car, the bridge, the speed, and wind. She licked her lips.

"Round two on the way back?" Maya asked. His wet hand tightened its grip on her thigh, and Krieg realized he might never see runners the same way again.