The Wheel - Part three
Aug. 28th, 2005 11:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
new_kateTitle: The Wheel
Author: Newkate
Fandom: Saiyuki
Warnings: Reincarnation fic. NC-17 for yet more m/m smut and some language.
Betaed by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hibem.
Part One: Shift
Part Two: Dance
Part 3: Experiment (Ch. 3 of 4)
Ch. 1, Ch. 2
Lately Kieran began introducing sports games into his meetings with Sam. He kept saying that the boy doesn’t get enough exercise; I secretly suspected he didn’t want Eric to take too big a place in Sam’s heart. For a man who painstakingly avoided friendships and romantic entanglements all his life, Kieran was turning out to be quite possessive.
Sam’s body chemistry revealed itself to be a bigger mystery the deeper we studied it. He could, if my extrapolations were correct, channel megatons of power from nowhere, yet he wasn’t a particularly lively boy. He ate a lot, moved much less that a child his age should like to, and yet he lost five pounds in weight during the time I’ve known him. A little exertion was enough to completely tire him out, like now, when he started yawning as soon as the game was over and dosed off shortly afterwards with his head on Kieran’s knee.
“Well, that’s it,” said Kieran when Sam’s sleepy eyes finally closed and his breath evened out. “The war will be declared on Thursday, so we need to move as planned, there is no postponing it any longer. Once it’s made official, they’ll double the security on all classified projects down to that ‘edible socks for Marines’ idiocy…”
“It’s not edible socks,” I said a little gruffly. “It’s edible shoe soles, and it will save lives, you’ll see.”
He snorted and continued:
“So yes, Thursday. It’s all been decided, the senate debates are only for show. Uncle will make a big patriotic pro-war speech tomorrow, so he asked you not to watch. He’s embarrassed.”
“That’s just silly. We all agreed he should try and strengthen his position in the senate, he’ll be hurt enough by your defection, so whatever can be done must be done,” I said, frowning, although, in all honesty, every sign of respect and affection from the older Flaherty was something I treasured, and the fact that he wasn’t sparse with them made them only more special somehow.
Sam fussed in his sleep and let out a loud snore. Kieran pulled the boy’s tiny form further onto his lap to make him more comfortable and sighed:
“I only hope it won’t seriously damage his reputation. He says he wants to stay in the senate to keep the access to their recourses so he could be still helping us after the escape, but really, I think he likes it there. Making the difference and all that.”
“I believe you’re correct,” I nodded with a fond smile.
“Anyway. If he plays it right, he’ll be fine, I think. It’s not like we’re even blood-related. People will probably feel sorry for him – betrayed by the brat he found in a ditch and raised as his own…”
I wondered if the military tribunal would feel sorry for Eric if our liaison ever comes up in the course of the investigation. I hoped it wouldn’t – it could just be the thing the witch-hunters would need to switch the charges against him from dereliction of duty to participation in the conspiracy, and although there was no way in hell they could prove either, his record would seriously suffer. Well, he had already been demoted more than once; according to his file, he took it in stride and rose in the ranks again, faster and higher than before, mainly thanks to his unwavering courage. As far as I could tell, recklessness was as much a secret of his success as it was his greatest weakness.
“You worry too much, Kieran. Everything is under control. I think, and I know it sound awful, but the beginning of the shooting war will actually make it easier for us to hide. Also, by the end of it things might change.”
“Things will never change enough that any government will let the ultimate weapon run free, have a life and never be dragged into a fight. So unless you’ll find a way to strip this power from him...” Kieran looked down at a peaceful almost-childlike face, threaded his fingers in the thick, stubborn hair, and trailed off without finishing.
“Yes, we have to do it. Not just for his sake. He’s learning to cope with it better, but still, as far as I can tell, when he’s losing control, the bleedout increases exponentially. In theory, a serious slip-up could result in a blast up to a tenth of a megaton. So I can’t guarantee I’ll succeed, but I won’t stop trying, I can promise you that.”
He was quiet for a while. We both sat on the floor inside Sam’s room, backs to the wall, and, not for the first time, it made me think of somewhat similar holding cells I only saw on TV, the kind they have in maximum security prisons and on death rows. I didn’t even know what sort of setup they had in the places where they kept and interrogated enemies of the state. Dank, dark dungeons decorated with thick metal chains readily came to mind, which was obviously preposterous.
“I don’t think I’ll make it,” said Kieran. “So yes, promise me that.”
“That’s precisely the kind of attitude we need to avoid at all cost,” I started, raising my finger to punctuate my words; he batted it down, then suddenly lifted his eyes, making the whole room lit up with a hot purple glow, and looked at me. Really looked, the way he never had before, as if, despite knowing me for twelve years, he only just met me.
“Are you still offering?” he asked, and the fact that it didn’t take me even a second to process this non-sequitur remark definitely said something about me and our relationship, but there wasn’t a time to analyze what precisely was it, because I found myself leaning close, not thinking, not thinking at all, watching my body moving completely on its own, and next moment my lips were touching his.
So familiar. I knew how that mouth moved to make every sound, every expression, every little grimace or twitch. I knew how he would smell, knew exactly how warm his skin would be to the touch; but I didn’t, I couldn’t know that he’d freeze and melt in my arms at the same time, that he’d hold his breath all the while I planted tentative feather-kisses on his pale lips, I didn’t know his pulse would be pounding under my fingers like this, almost as wildly as mine.
Sam turned over, not waking up, and I pulled back.
“We’ll talk about it after things have settled down, shall we?”
He finally breathed, and then made a face that would be bad for my ego if I didn’t know him well enough.
“Of course,” he said. “I understand this is sudden, and also you still have a large Scandinavian to prostitute yourself to. How careless of me to push.”
“Are you trying to mock me? If so, this act needs work.”
“Up yours, Akiyama.”
“Later, if you like,” I promised with an indulgent smile. He glared, clearly contemplating violence for the lack of a better comeback. “I understand that there will be just the two of us and Sam, maybe forever, and of course it will change everything, but you have never before shown any signs of being at all interested in this side of life. I don’t want to rush into anything for the wrong reasons. And before you say anything, yes, I’ve been doing just that. And I hope I have learned my lesson.”
“Do you have a crush on him or something?” he asked, finally wiping his lips dry. I could tell he was dying to do that since the kiss, but didn’t want to show what he probably considered a weakness.
“Yup,” I said gravely and laughed my ass off at his horrified stare.
*-*-*
I shivered, drowned by darkness, pinned, captured. Blindfold and handcuffs –we’ve done it before, of course, I wasn’t deviant enough to pass by something this cliché. Not when the handcuffs hung in plain view from his belt, jingling as he walked around the installation, daring me not to think about sex in public. Not when looking at him, entangled with me and lost in sensation, was often too much to bear. Pain punctuated the surrender, granting me moments of illusory absolution, but I appreciated the privacy as well.
Not like this, mind you.
I could sense him. Familiar scent, familiar presence, familiar voice.
“Talk.”
Cold panic, like a snake in my throat. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Too much energy wasted on keeping still, silent, lucid, while my exhausted body poisoned itself with adrenaline, weak, too weak.
“We already know everything. Your accomplices are doomed, whether you collaborate or not.”
He touched me - he was so close - and he didn’t even need to do anything. I was torturing myself quite effectively, churning my insides with fear, crushing my heart with regret, mauling my brain with self-disgust. I still wanted him, god help me, even now, yes, even like this. I was utterly defeated, wasn’t I?
“Tell us their names, and it will be easier on you.”
How did this happen? I had a plan to prevent it from happening; I had a back-up plan for it and contingency plans for both of them…
“You know you’ll break. You are already cracked. I can see the fractures. I know where it will hurt. I know you. I know all there is to you.”
No, I wanted to say, I’m more than that, I’m stronger than that. His fingers ran all over my skin, stealing what air was left in my struggling lungs.
… and I was immensely comforted by the thought that it would be him who takes me apart and kills me bit by bit. I didn’t want it to be anybody else…
I woke up with a start, catching the wake of my own scream. Eric’s face was inches from mine, and I had to make an effort not to recoil from him. In my sleep I was clinging to him for dear life; no wonder his dream presence was so vivid.
As he watched me struggle to regain my composure, worry and concern slowly melted from his eyes, leaving behind a blank closed-off look. He didn’t move, didn’t even shift his palm plastered to my sweat-drenched back. When I tried to smile for him, he turned his face to the wall and shut his eyes.
I stayed in place and listened to my heart pounding wildly against his ribs until he sighed and said:
“I can’t sleep. Let’s fool around.”
“Good idea,” I was feeling less horny than I ever had since hitting puberty, but the idea actually was good, if I could only physically allow him inside me in any way right now.
“Do you want to top?” he asked with such nonchalance that it could only be fake, and although I hardly ever contemplated the possibility, it suddenly became all I could think about. I gave an enthusiastic nod, quickly rolled his unresisting form around, watched with a wicked excitement as he settled on his stomach, folding his arms under his chin.
“Go easy, okay? It’s been a while,” he said in a strangely sheepish voice. I briefly considered handcuffing him to the headboard, but he already edged on terrified, so I decided to make allowances. Normally a nervous bedmate got treated to a backrub first, however I wasn’t feeling that generous, not after the nightmare. I shoved a pillow under his hips, grabbed the lube and went straight to the main event.
His inner muscles violently clamped around my fingers, squeezed as if trying to hurt me on purpose, so I could hardly move them in and out, and scissoring was not possible at all. By the look of things it would have to be quite a while before I could add the third.
“Relax, relax. Breathe. It will not hurt, I promise; just help me out a little. Come on, trust me.”
“I’m trying, Tadashi,” he whispered through clenched teeth. “I’m really trying.”
Damn. I wanted to hold him close, kiss his face until it was rid of this nervous frown, lick his back until all tension left his muscles, tell him how beautiful he was, how precious, how much this open, brave surrender meant to me, especially now. Instead I pushed his legs further apart and tore the condom wrapper open.
“We’ll just go ahead then. It’s not an open-heart surgery, after all; you’ll survive.”
His fingers fisted into the sheets, but he didn’t say a word. I rolled the condom on, grateful for the dulling of sensation it offered, - my own touch was almost enough to set me off right now, and I wanted this to last, - added more lubricant, slipped between his legs. He made an astonishing sight, laid out like that, face down, shoulders tense, waiting. I gave his slicked opening one last caress with my fingertips, pressed my hungry, eager cock against it and nudged inside.
He lay still, not even biting his lips, just blinked every time I pushed harder, stared in the distance with wide open eyes, his breath fast and shallow. Tiny drops of sweat started beading on his temple; I wiped them off with my palm and he closed his eyes at that, leaning into the caress.
“How are you doing so far?”
“Uh, good. Yeah. Is it going to get better or worse?”
“Both,” I smiled against his shoulder, caught some skin between my teeth, nipped, harder than usual, pushed in some more. He was getting tense, taut like a string, fighting hard to stay motionless, to relax into my insistent, shallow thrusts. His body seemed to be clamping right back down every time I pulled out a little, so impossibly tight and guarded.
That was fun.
I pushed, pushed, pinning him down with all my weight, pushed in some more, until the head almost, but not quite, fitted inside him, held there. He took it for nearly a minute, bearing with the discomfort of being stretched that wide, but finally gave up, started to pull away, and - right then - I grabbed his hips and slid inside in one quick harsh thrust.
He yelped and bit down on a pillow, clawing at my arm, convulsing around me, but quickly got a hold on himself.
“Okay. Okay. Just don’t move.”
“I won’t,” I said benevolently, already happy as can be, buried in that hot, tight softness, pressed against his broad back. His inner muscles fluttered around my cock, almost rhythmically, reflexively trying to fight off the intrusion, but only making the stay more pleasurable. I could stay like that all night. Forever. I could die like this. Why couldn’t I die like this?
I found his hands, gently uncurled the fists open, stroked damp palms, licked long stripes up and down his back, like I wanted to, and settled comfortably into circling my tongue around each of the little knobs of his spine I could reach. Once he started to loosen up a little, I snuck my hand under to stroke his inner thighs, dipped lower to tickle balls and perineum, pulled him up a little to reach for his cock, almost flaccid, but coming alive again at the first touch.
“Mmm… Right, I think I’m ready for you to move a little.”
“If you say so. How’s this?”
“All right. Oh… kinda nice, actually. Huh.”
“Does it still hurt?”
“No. It’s just too… Too something, you know?”
“Well, of course I do. It takes some getting used to. It’s obviously been longer than a while, correct?”
“Oh, shove it. Ah, not like that, ouch! Is that all of it now?”
“Almost,” I smirked and rolled my hips another inch forward.
“Oh shit,” he hissed and glared at me over his shoulder. “Can’t believe I liked you being hung.”
“And will again in a minute. Let’s try this…” I angled down, looking for the sensitive spot, gave several gentle nudges until I finally got it right. He jerked, gasped and cautiously wriggled under me, trying to repeat the sensation. I happily obliged, rolled him on one side to get better access to his straining cock, and he clamped his hand over mine right away to set his own, suddenly fast pace. He came in less than a minute, loudly gasping for air, pushing back against my every thrust. When the last spurts were still shooting into my hand he twisted his head back, wordlessly demanding a kiss, and as his tongue touched mine, I slipped from the edge I was riding for several minutes now, and gave in, rammed into him, hard and deep, and exploded in one blinding flash, too fast, much faster than I wanted, but so, so mindnumbingly good.
We lay there for a long time, still locked together, until he winced and I took the hint and pulled out as carefully as I could.
“Need to wash,” he mumbled in an adorably sleepy voice, trying to get out of bed by only moving his toes. “All sticky and yuck.”
I brought a wet towel from the bathroom and cleaned us both before throwing a blanket over him and climbing in myself.
“Listen,” I said as he pulled me closer. “I want to do something special for you tomorrow, anything you want, any silly fantasy, up to and including outfits and spanking. Just say it.”
He cracked open one eye to regard me with more humour than I could expect from his half-asleep state.
“Anything I want? Well, I used to have this one fantasy about getting screwed by a sexy, smart guy with glasses, but, shucks…”
“It’s best to wait a bit before the encore,” I said rather smugly, replaying the experience in my mind. I have been doing that more and more lately, trying to commit all I could to the memory.
“Honestly, Akiyama. I have all I want. Maybe you…”
I balanced my chin on his shoulder, thought about things we could try and do in the two days we had left, and nothing seemed better at the moment than being together like this, sated and tired, studiously not thinking about the future.
“No, you know, I can’t think of anything to ask for either.”
Next Chapter
Author: Newkate
Fandom: Saiyuki
Warnings: Reincarnation fic. NC-17 for yet more m/m smut and some language.
Betaed by
hibem.Part One: Shift
Part Two: Dance
Part 3: Experiment (Ch. 3 of 4)
Ch. 1, Ch. 2
Lately Kieran began introducing sports games into his meetings with Sam. He kept saying that the boy doesn’t get enough exercise; I secretly suspected he didn’t want Eric to take too big a place in Sam’s heart. For a man who painstakingly avoided friendships and romantic entanglements all his life, Kieran was turning out to be quite possessive.
Sam’s body chemistry revealed itself to be a bigger mystery the deeper we studied it. He could, if my extrapolations were correct, channel megatons of power from nowhere, yet he wasn’t a particularly lively boy. He ate a lot, moved much less that a child his age should like to, and yet he lost five pounds in weight during the time I’ve known him. A little exertion was enough to completely tire him out, like now, when he started yawning as soon as the game was over and dosed off shortly afterwards with his head on Kieran’s knee.
“Well, that’s it,” said Kieran when Sam’s sleepy eyes finally closed and his breath evened out. “The war will be declared on Thursday, so we need to move as planned, there is no postponing it any longer. Once it’s made official, they’ll double the security on all classified projects down to that ‘edible socks for Marines’ idiocy…”
“It’s not edible socks,” I said a little gruffly. “It’s edible shoe soles, and it will save lives, you’ll see.”
He snorted and continued:
“So yes, Thursday. It’s all been decided, the senate debates are only for show. Uncle will make a big patriotic pro-war speech tomorrow, so he asked you not to watch. He’s embarrassed.”
“That’s just silly. We all agreed he should try and strengthen his position in the senate, he’ll be hurt enough by your defection, so whatever can be done must be done,” I said, frowning, although, in all honesty, every sign of respect and affection from the older Flaherty was something I treasured, and the fact that he wasn’t sparse with them made them only more special somehow.
Sam fussed in his sleep and let out a loud snore. Kieran pulled the boy’s tiny form further onto his lap to make him more comfortable and sighed:
“I only hope it won’t seriously damage his reputation. He says he wants to stay in the senate to keep the access to their recourses so he could be still helping us after the escape, but really, I think he likes it there. Making the difference and all that.”
“I believe you’re correct,” I nodded with a fond smile.
“Anyway. If he plays it right, he’ll be fine, I think. It’s not like we’re even blood-related. People will probably feel sorry for him – betrayed by the brat he found in a ditch and raised as his own…”
I wondered if the military tribunal would feel sorry for Eric if our liaison ever comes up in the course of the investigation. I hoped it wouldn’t – it could just be the thing the witch-hunters would need to switch the charges against him from dereliction of duty to participation in the conspiracy, and although there was no way in hell they could prove either, his record would seriously suffer. Well, he had already been demoted more than once; according to his file, he took it in stride and rose in the ranks again, faster and higher than before, mainly thanks to his unwavering courage. As far as I could tell, recklessness was as much a secret of his success as it was his greatest weakness.
“You worry too much, Kieran. Everything is under control. I think, and I know it sound awful, but the beginning of the shooting war will actually make it easier for us to hide. Also, by the end of it things might change.”
“Things will never change enough that any government will let the ultimate weapon run free, have a life and never be dragged into a fight. So unless you’ll find a way to strip this power from him...” Kieran looked down at a peaceful almost-childlike face, threaded his fingers in the thick, stubborn hair, and trailed off without finishing.
“Yes, we have to do it. Not just for his sake. He’s learning to cope with it better, but still, as far as I can tell, when he’s losing control, the bleedout increases exponentially. In theory, a serious slip-up could result in a blast up to a tenth of a megaton. So I can’t guarantee I’ll succeed, but I won’t stop trying, I can promise you that.”
He was quiet for a while. We both sat on the floor inside Sam’s room, backs to the wall, and, not for the first time, it made me think of somewhat similar holding cells I only saw on TV, the kind they have in maximum security prisons and on death rows. I didn’t even know what sort of setup they had in the places where they kept and interrogated enemies of the state. Dank, dark dungeons decorated with thick metal chains readily came to mind, which was obviously preposterous.
“I don’t think I’ll make it,” said Kieran. “So yes, promise me that.”
“That’s precisely the kind of attitude we need to avoid at all cost,” I started, raising my finger to punctuate my words; he batted it down, then suddenly lifted his eyes, making the whole room lit up with a hot purple glow, and looked at me. Really looked, the way he never had before, as if, despite knowing me for twelve years, he only just met me.
“Are you still offering?” he asked, and the fact that it didn’t take me even a second to process this non-sequitur remark definitely said something about me and our relationship, but there wasn’t a time to analyze what precisely was it, because I found myself leaning close, not thinking, not thinking at all, watching my body moving completely on its own, and next moment my lips were touching his.
So familiar. I knew how that mouth moved to make every sound, every expression, every little grimace or twitch. I knew how he would smell, knew exactly how warm his skin would be to the touch; but I didn’t, I couldn’t know that he’d freeze and melt in my arms at the same time, that he’d hold his breath all the while I planted tentative feather-kisses on his pale lips, I didn’t know his pulse would be pounding under my fingers like this, almost as wildly as mine.
Sam turned over, not waking up, and I pulled back.
“We’ll talk about it after things have settled down, shall we?”
He finally breathed, and then made a face that would be bad for my ego if I didn’t know him well enough.
“Of course,” he said. “I understand this is sudden, and also you still have a large Scandinavian to prostitute yourself to. How careless of me to push.”
“Are you trying to mock me? If so, this act needs work.”
“Up yours, Akiyama.”
“Later, if you like,” I promised with an indulgent smile. He glared, clearly contemplating violence for the lack of a better comeback. “I understand that there will be just the two of us and Sam, maybe forever, and of course it will change everything, but you have never before shown any signs of being at all interested in this side of life. I don’t want to rush into anything for the wrong reasons. And before you say anything, yes, I’ve been doing just that. And I hope I have learned my lesson.”
“Do you have a crush on him or something?” he asked, finally wiping his lips dry. I could tell he was dying to do that since the kiss, but didn’t want to show what he probably considered a weakness.
“Yup,” I said gravely and laughed my ass off at his horrified stare.
*-*-*
I shivered, drowned by darkness, pinned, captured. Blindfold and handcuffs –we’ve done it before, of course, I wasn’t deviant enough to pass by something this cliché. Not when the handcuffs hung in plain view from his belt, jingling as he walked around the installation, daring me not to think about sex in public. Not when looking at him, entangled with me and lost in sensation, was often too much to bear. Pain punctuated the surrender, granting me moments of illusory absolution, but I appreciated the privacy as well.
Not like this, mind you.
I could sense him. Familiar scent, familiar presence, familiar voice.
“Talk.”
Cold panic, like a snake in my throat. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Too much energy wasted on keeping still, silent, lucid, while my exhausted body poisoned itself with adrenaline, weak, too weak.
“We already know everything. Your accomplices are doomed, whether you collaborate or not.”
He touched me - he was so close - and he didn’t even need to do anything. I was torturing myself quite effectively, churning my insides with fear, crushing my heart with regret, mauling my brain with self-disgust. I still wanted him, god help me, even now, yes, even like this. I was utterly defeated, wasn’t I?
“Tell us their names, and it will be easier on you.”
How did this happen? I had a plan to prevent it from happening; I had a back-up plan for it and contingency plans for both of them…
“You know you’ll break. You are already cracked. I can see the fractures. I know where it will hurt. I know you. I know all there is to you.”
No, I wanted to say, I’m more than that, I’m stronger than that. His fingers ran all over my skin, stealing what air was left in my struggling lungs.
… and I was immensely comforted by the thought that it would be him who takes me apart and kills me bit by bit. I didn’t want it to be anybody else…
I woke up with a start, catching the wake of my own scream. Eric’s face was inches from mine, and I had to make an effort not to recoil from him. In my sleep I was clinging to him for dear life; no wonder his dream presence was so vivid.
As he watched me struggle to regain my composure, worry and concern slowly melted from his eyes, leaving behind a blank closed-off look. He didn’t move, didn’t even shift his palm plastered to my sweat-drenched back. When I tried to smile for him, he turned his face to the wall and shut his eyes.
I stayed in place and listened to my heart pounding wildly against his ribs until he sighed and said:
“I can’t sleep. Let’s fool around.”
“Good idea,” I was feeling less horny than I ever had since hitting puberty, but the idea actually was good, if I could only physically allow him inside me in any way right now.
“Do you want to top?” he asked with such nonchalance that it could only be fake, and although I hardly ever contemplated the possibility, it suddenly became all I could think about. I gave an enthusiastic nod, quickly rolled his unresisting form around, watched with a wicked excitement as he settled on his stomach, folding his arms under his chin.
“Go easy, okay? It’s been a while,” he said in a strangely sheepish voice. I briefly considered handcuffing him to the headboard, but he already edged on terrified, so I decided to make allowances. Normally a nervous bedmate got treated to a backrub first, however I wasn’t feeling that generous, not after the nightmare. I shoved a pillow under his hips, grabbed the lube and went straight to the main event.
His inner muscles violently clamped around my fingers, squeezed as if trying to hurt me on purpose, so I could hardly move them in and out, and scissoring was not possible at all. By the look of things it would have to be quite a while before I could add the third.
“Relax, relax. Breathe. It will not hurt, I promise; just help me out a little. Come on, trust me.”
“I’m trying, Tadashi,” he whispered through clenched teeth. “I’m really trying.”
Damn. I wanted to hold him close, kiss his face until it was rid of this nervous frown, lick his back until all tension left his muscles, tell him how beautiful he was, how precious, how much this open, brave surrender meant to me, especially now. Instead I pushed his legs further apart and tore the condom wrapper open.
“We’ll just go ahead then. It’s not an open-heart surgery, after all; you’ll survive.”
His fingers fisted into the sheets, but he didn’t say a word. I rolled the condom on, grateful for the dulling of sensation it offered, - my own touch was almost enough to set me off right now, and I wanted this to last, - added more lubricant, slipped between his legs. He made an astonishing sight, laid out like that, face down, shoulders tense, waiting. I gave his slicked opening one last caress with my fingertips, pressed my hungry, eager cock against it and nudged inside.
He lay still, not even biting his lips, just blinked every time I pushed harder, stared in the distance with wide open eyes, his breath fast and shallow. Tiny drops of sweat started beading on his temple; I wiped them off with my palm and he closed his eyes at that, leaning into the caress.
“How are you doing so far?”
“Uh, good. Yeah. Is it going to get better or worse?”
“Both,” I smiled against his shoulder, caught some skin between my teeth, nipped, harder than usual, pushed in some more. He was getting tense, taut like a string, fighting hard to stay motionless, to relax into my insistent, shallow thrusts. His body seemed to be clamping right back down every time I pulled out a little, so impossibly tight and guarded.
That was fun.
I pushed, pushed, pinning him down with all my weight, pushed in some more, until the head almost, but not quite, fitted inside him, held there. He took it for nearly a minute, bearing with the discomfort of being stretched that wide, but finally gave up, started to pull away, and - right then - I grabbed his hips and slid inside in one quick harsh thrust.
He yelped and bit down on a pillow, clawing at my arm, convulsing around me, but quickly got a hold on himself.
“Okay. Okay. Just don’t move.”
“I won’t,” I said benevolently, already happy as can be, buried in that hot, tight softness, pressed against his broad back. His inner muscles fluttered around my cock, almost rhythmically, reflexively trying to fight off the intrusion, but only making the stay more pleasurable. I could stay like that all night. Forever. I could die like this. Why couldn’t I die like this?
I found his hands, gently uncurled the fists open, stroked damp palms, licked long stripes up and down his back, like I wanted to, and settled comfortably into circling my tongue around each of the little knobs of his spine I could reach. Once he started to loosen up a little, I snuck my hand under to stroke his inner thighs, dipped lower to tickle balls and perineum, pulled him up a little to reach for his cock, almost flaccid, but coming alive again at the first touch.
“Mmm… Right, I think I’m ready for you to move a little.”
“If you say so. How’s this?”
“All right. Oh… kinda nice, actually. Huh.”
“Does it still hurt?”
“No. It’s just too… Too something, you know?”
“Well, of course I do. It takes some getting used to. It’s obviously been longer than a while, correct?”
“Oh, shove it. Ah, not like that, ouch! Is that all of it now?”
“Almost,” I smirked and rolled my hips another inch forward.
“Oh shit,” he hissed and glared at me over his shoulder. “Can’t believe I liked you being hung.”
“And will again in a minute. Let’s try this…” I angled down, looking for the sensitive spot, gave several gentle nudges until I finally got it right. He jerked, gasped and cautiously wriggled under me, trying to repeat the sensation. I happily obliged, rolled him on one side to get better access to his straining cock, and he clamped his hand over mine right away to set his own, suddenly fast pace. He came in less than a minute, loudly gasping for air, pushing back against my every thrust. When the last spurts were still shooting into my hand he twisted his head back, wordlessly demanding a kiss, and as his tongue touched mine, I slipped from the edge I was riding for several minutes now, and gave in, rammed into him, hard and deep, and exploded in one blinding flash, too fast, much faster than I wanted, but so, so mindnumbingly good.
We lay there for a long time, still locked together, until he winced and I took the hint and pulled out as carefully as I could.
“Need to wash,” he mumbled in an adorably sleepy voice, trying to get out of bed by only moving his toes. “All sticky and yuck.”
I brought a wet towel from the bathroom and cleaned us both before throwing a blanket over him and climbing in myself.
“Listen,” I said as he pulled me closer. “I want to do something special for you tomorrow, anything you want, any silly fantasy, up to and including outfits and spanking. Just say it.”
He cracked open one eye to regard me with more humour than I could expect from his half-asleep state.
“Anything I want? Well, I used to have this one fantasy about getting screwed by a sexy, smart guy with glasses, but, shucks…”
“It’s best to wait a bit before the encore,” I said rather smugly, replaying the experience in my mind. I have been doing that more and more lately, trying to commit all I could to the memory.
“Honestly, Akiyama. I have all I want. Maybe you…”
I balanced my chin on his shoulder, thought about things we could try and do in the two days we had left, and nothing seemed better at the moment than being together like this, sated and tired, studiously not thinking about the future.
“No, you know, I can’t think of anything to ask for either.”
Next Chapter
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Date: 2005-08-28 06:13 pm (UTC)Akiyama is seeming less and less weirdly disturbing as this goes on. Is that intentional, or is it just that I'm getting used to him?
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Date: 2005-08-29 03:33 pm (UTC)Thank you so very much! Aw, but why do you have to work weekends? *comforts*