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Costume Change	By : Bad_Dog_Tricks Category: +S through Z > Wreck-It Ralph Views: 5387 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own 'Wreck-It Ralph' or its characters, nor do I make any money from writing this.

Chapter List
- 1-Costume Change
- 1
The big guy in all the black armor had just run himself into the wall, knocking himself out cold! Ralph looked down at the huge form laid out on the floor, and pondered. “A gold medal, huh?” he muttered to himself. If this stuff just reappeared for every game, all he had to do was get in there for one game, outcompete whoever was playing without being too obvious about it, and take the medal – another one would just reappear for the next player, so it wouldn't be a glitch, right? Oh man, he could just see the look on that jerk Gene's face when he showed him that shiny new medal! That look would be on everyone's faces; he could show them all that he could be a hero just like Felix, and that he deserved to be treated just like him...a room in the building, a pie once in a while, invites to their parties! Everything would change – all he had to do was get in that game!
But he didn't have that crazy black armor – and giving the guy on the floor a once-over, it looked far too complicated to fake. He could just borrow it, though… and this dude – Markowski, his armor said on the left breastplate – was definitely not going anywhere for a while. Maybe he could just borrow it, and bring it back before the guy woke up. It didn't look like he was going to be awake for the arcade opening anyhow, not the way he was snoring. Either way, Ralph decided, he'd better get him out of the hallway. Gripping him under the arms, he dragged the unconscious soldier into the storage closet, propping him up into a slumped sitting position against the wall and locking the door behind them to prevent any interruptions.
He sat back on his heels and inspected the armor. Helmet, breastplate, shoulder-plates, leg and arm guards, gloves, codpiece, heavy boots. But how did it all come off? Leaning forward, he gingerly ran his hands down the soldier's arms, jumping a bit when he heard a loud click from the left arm. Lifting it, he saw he had dislodged a small catch-lever on the inside of the arm. He pressed it more firmly, and the piece of armor protecting Markowski's upper arm disengaged with a slight hiss. He removed it and laid it behind him, noting that underneath seemed to be a stretchy black undergarment overlaid with some kind of hexagonal silver mesh. He poked it experimentally, then flinched when it protectively zapped him with a small green spark.
“So that has to go on first,” he said under his breath.
He set about locating and depressing all the catch-levers, laying the armor out behind him so he'd know what pieces went were. It was all so futuristic, it was hard to tell! Within a few minutes he had all the armor off, leaving the soldier only in his boots and the black-and-silver undergarment, which seemed to come in two pieces. He untied and slipped the boots off, then, as gently as possible, he tugged off the long-sleeved top. It came off easily, and Ralph breathed a sigh of relief as Markowski settled back against the wall, snoring even louder now that he was unburdened of his gear.
“That's right,” he murmured, “Just take a nice, long nap...”
The next step was the pants. Ralph wondered for a moment exactly how someone could possibly sleep through having their pants taken off, but then, Markowski had slept right through everything else, so why chicken out now? It would just take some finesse, that was all. Hooking his fingers into the waistband, Ralph slowly started wriggling the pants down, one side at a time. Inch by inch the pants slid off – and unexpectedly, so did the soldier's briefs. Even more unexpected was the full, dripping erection Ralph uncovered. Startled, he pulled back – and jerked even further away when Markowski let out a low, urgent noise and rolled his hips, causing his long, thick cock to slap gently against his belly.
“Fuck yeah, Spears,” he moaned. “Do it, c'mon...”
Panicking, Ralph hit the lights. At least if Markowski opened his eyes, he wouldn't see Ralph right away, and maybe he could get out of there fast enough so the solider wouldn't piece together meeting him in the hall and waking up stripped naked in a storage closet! He was preparing for a rush to the door when a sleepy giggle from the soldier stopped him. In the dim light, Ralph could see the soldier was still slumped in his original position, eyes firmly shut. Was he sleep-talking?
“Y'turned th' lights off, Spears, I can't seeya no more. Kinkyyy...” he slurred. “Don' leave me hangin' man, y'know I love y'r mouth on my cock...”
Ralph froze in indecision, one hand on the doorknob. Should he make a break for it? Or stay and – and do what, exactly? Take advantage of a drunk guy who thought he was someone named Spears? He was already taking advantage of him, though – he had been in the process of stealing (er, borrowing) his armor, right? Why not do something for him, too? Something he clearly wanted, from the state of him...
“Please, Spears, s'been so fuckin' long – y'r mouth, y'r hand, wha'ever, I gotta have it. Jus' touch me, man, y'feel so fuckin' good...please...” Ralph sighed and shrugged.
“In for a penny, in for a pound, I guess,” he said quietly, and knelt on the floor between the sleep-talking soldier's knees, spreading them with his hands. He'd heard of people talking in their sleep, but he'd never heard of anyone talking dirty in their sleep! No one had ever talked dirty to him, of course; it was kind of hot, though. Maybe he could pretend to be Spears, just for a few minutes...
He reached out and tentatively gripped Markowski's stiff prick. Big as his hands were, the weeping pink tip was still visible at the end of his fist. Markowski's hips thrust upward of their own accord, smearing precum on the inside of Ralph's curled fingers.
“Oh, Spears...fuck yeah, man, jus' like that-” he ground out, his member twitching.
“Jeez,” Ralph muttered in amazement. Strike 'kind of hot' - this was really, really hot! This guy was ready to blow, just from his hand? This Spears character must be really good! But it looked like he wasn't doing too bad a job, if the copious amounts of precum and steel-hardness in his hand were any evidence. He was getting pretty hard himself; he reached down and adjusted the front of his overalls, then thought better of it and simply unhooked them and yanked them down to his knees. He had to get out of them anyway, right? And there was no way he could get all that armor on with an erection. He'd better take care of himself, too. He licked his other hand and wrapped it around his length, inhaling in surprise when he found it quite a bit harder than he'd thought, the head already slippery with his own juices. He started pulling on both their cocks in tandem. “Mmh, yeah, y'r hand feels so good...keep goin', don't stop...” Markowski panted.
Ralph had no intention of stopping. Feeling the other man's hardness matching his own, throbbing in his grip, obviously close to coming – it was intoxicating, and driving Ralph toward the edge faster than he'd anticipated. Jerking himself off while doing the same to Markowski was amazing!
“Fuck, man, I'm gonna come...please, Spears, make me come...” he keened, pumping his dick into Ralph's fist. Ralph bit back a loud moan and stroked their cocks faster. He was on the edge himself; he could feel his balls swell with cum as he worked them both.
“Spears – fuck, I'm comin', I'm comin' f'r you...” Markowski moaned, and thrust into Ralph's fist a final time, cock pulsing as it spat its load. Ralph did his best to catch it, but was distracted as seconds later he shot off, coming hard onto the floor, splattering it with ropes of sticky cum.
The silence afterward was broken only by the faraway faint sounds of the bar. Finally, Markowski stirred and clumsily pulled his pants off, curling up on his side on the floor. Ralph heard his breathing slow, then dissolve into snores. Slowly he stood up, pants puddling around his ankles, and felt around for the bar rags on the upper shelves. Finding one, he wiped his hands and the floor, then stripped out of his shirt and stepped out of his overalls. Pulling the pants free of Markowski's grip, he yanked them on, then the rest of the suit, piece by piece. When he finished, he folded up his shirt and overalls as small as possible and jammed them into a side pouch.
He was getting ready to sneak out when he realized he couldn't leave Markowski totally naked – it would be too suspicious, not to mention rude. A sudden idea hit him, and he rooted through the Lost and Found box, unearthing Zangief's red briefs. Working them up Markowski's thighs was a bit difficult, but finally he got the still-snoring soldier covered. If he woke, he'd see Zangief's briefs and think – well, it didn't matter what he'd think. He certainly wouldn't think of Ralph, and that's all that mattered.
Stepping back, he checked the fit of the black armor – a little bulge in the belly, but serviceable. He could finally get that medal! He quietly snuck out of the room, shutting the door behind him. “Sorry, Markowski. Sorry, Zangief. And, uh, sorry, Tapper...” he said to himself as he slipped out of the bar's back entrance.
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Costume Change