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mickeymTitle: Dance Into The Fire
Pairing: Lance/JC (though it's only implied here), and Lance/Chris (also mostly implied)
Rating: Hate this part. R/NC17ish.
Warnings: Implied D/s, but nothing graphic or specific in this piece
Notes: I did a bunch of ficlets back in 2004, when it was going around, like a meme. I've been (slowly)going over old journal entries, tagging and whatnot, and happened upon some of those ficlets today.
This one* in particular, was requested as "Lance/JC, D/s" (or kink, whichever). In the comments I remarked to someone that I wanted to do a companion bit, from Lance's POV. For whatever reason, I didn't, at the time. But when I re-read the thing today, I got kind of inspired. Hey, porn is good for all that ails us, right? Right. So, here's a little something from Lance's POV. Hope y'all enjoy it :)
*It'll make more sense if you've first read what prompted this new one, or well, I guess it doesn't really matter. Carry on :)
The preparations are as soothing as the actual events, though Lance's body still throbs pleasantly from the last round.
JC doesn't leave actual marks very often, and Lance doesn't need to see in order to feel. Each spot that received a blow still stings and burns, a low hum just beneath the surface of his skin. With his eyes closed he can feel the heat ripple through him; can still hear the sound of the paddle moving through the air, and the dullsharp thwack as it hit against his legs, his thighs, his ass.
"Someone had a good time." Chris's voice pulls Lance from his musings, and he opens his eyes, well aware of how he looks, skin rosy red and marred with sharp redpurple bruises in the shape and size of fingerprints. He smiles lazily.
"Used well," he agrees, shuddering through a full-body stretch. "Help me clean up and get ready?"
"You know it, baby." Chris drops a careless kiss on Lance's head, hand stroking across Lance's ass, lingering just long enough to intensify the heat simmering there.
He's gone just as quickly, moving through the room and on into the bath. After a moment of quiet the sound of water filling the tub echoes through the room. By the time Lance joins Chris in the bathroom it's steamy and fragrant from whatever oil Chris added to the water. The heat of the water makes Lance's skin draw up tight with goosebumps as he lowers himself into the tub, and Chris rubs them away, hands stroking slow and sensual over tired, sore muscles.
There's more than a tingle of fire under his skin by the time Chris has Lance soaped and stroked and rinsed. When Lance stands up he feels electrified, body sizzling and ready, and the water sluicing down over him makes him shiver violently. Chris touches him so carefully, fingers trailing over his dick, his balls, up and down his thighs until Lance is hard and ready, wanting…needing…more.
"I want you later," Chris murmurs into Lance's ear as he helps him out of the tub. "After He's done with you…come to me?"
"Yeah," Lance breathes, turning his head for a kiss. Chris tastes spicy-sweet, like cinnamon and chocolate. "But we need to--"
"Hurry, I know." Chris touches Lance's shoulders, his throat, fingers pressing into the bruises until Lance hisses and arches toward him. "So gorgeous like this. He'll love it."
While Chris dries him off, Lance closes his eyes and thinks about JC, and heat, and the soft scratch of terry against his skin. It scritches the heat up again until Lance thinks he can see it shimmering over him like another layer of skin.
He's so hard it hurts, though it's muted pain, twisting and turning and melding with the pleasure already trickling through him. Chris wraps Lance's dick with twists of leather, a cock-ring to hold him like this until He is ready for Lance to come. It's only for JC's pleasure that Lance gets that particular treat, but JC never denies him. Just likes to choreograph when and how it happens.
"Almost done." Chris whispers the words against Lance's throat, small, clever hands stroking oil into his skin, now. Lance loves the slip-slide of oil over his body; loves the way everything glides against him when he's oiled. "Spread your legs," is whispered against his hip, and Lance trembles when Chris slips slick fingers over tight muscle before pressing inward.
One finger. Two fingers. More oil trickles down the insides of his thighs and Lance is glad for the cock-ring, because without it? He'd have come already. He's not really sure he hasn't, at least a little, with Chris's hands urging him toward it. Everything feels warm and soft around the edges, and when Chris pops up in front of him he wears a reckless grin.
"He wants me in the other room," Lance says, holding himself still. If he leans in toward Chris now he won't want to leave, and that would be bad. Very bad. "On the--"
Chris sucks in a breath and Lance feels it like a molten wave in the pit of his stomach, reacting to Chris's reaction. He hasn't even said where, but he knows Chris knows. Chris helped JC get it fashioned and placed and secured.
"Come on, then," Chris says. "I'll help."
If it weren't for the headspace he's already settled into, Lance would laugh. Help? Sure. Right.
The dildo, long and sleek, gleams black in the bright light shining down on it. It's the only spot of light, and beyond its edges the room is dull, out-of-focus. Up closer to it, and Lance remembers the burn of it when it slides into him; it's thick, wide, borders on painful when it stretches him open. A pain that zips through him and out of him and back around again. Chris kneels behind and slicks it up with the bottle of oil, giving the room a sharp scent that settles into Lance and makes him restless, so ready for this.
It's awkward, at first, moving into position, and then his body remembers -- muscle memory, Lance thinks, distractedly. Chris's hands steady him, hold him, and the hiss and soft moan Chris gives when Lance pushes down makes him moan., even before penetration registers.
He feels every inch of it as he slides down, body stretching to accommodate, until Lance is firmly on his knees. His head swims, everything just a little out of focus now, except the way his body throbs around the dildo, muscles flexing as if to push it out. When he glances down, Lance smiles at the drops of oil on the floor under him, and the droplets of pre-come slick on the end of his dick.
So ready.
Chris kisses him one last time, whispers that he loves Lance, and then he's gone, leaving Lance alone in the room, to await JC and JC's pleasure.
~fin~
Pairing: Lance/JC (though it's only implied here), and Lance/Chris (also mostly implied)
Rating: Hate this part. R/NC17ish.
Warnings: Implied D/s, but nothing graphic or specific in this piece
Notes: I did a bunch of ficlets back in 2004, when it was going around, like a meme. I've been (slowly)going over old journal entries, tagging and whatnot, and happened upon some of those ficlets today.
This one* in particular, was requested as "Lance/JC, D/s" (or kink, whichever). In the comments I remarked to someone that I wanted to do a companion bit, from Lance's POV. For whatever reason, I didn't, at the time. But when I re-read the thing today, I got kind of inspired. Hey, porn is good for all that ails us, right? Right. So, here's a little something from Lance's POV. Hope y'all enjoy it :)
*It'll make more sense if you've first read what prompted this new one, or well, I guess it doesn't really matter. Carry on :)
The preparations are as soothing as the actual events, though Lance's body still throbs pleasantly from the last round.
JC doesn't leave actual marks very often, and Lance doesn't need to see in order to feel. Each spot that received a blow still stings and burns, a low hum just beneath the surface of his skin. With his eyes closed he can feel the heat ripple through him; can still hear the sound of the paddle moving through the air, and the dullsharp thwack as it hit against his legs, his thighs, his ass.
"Someone had a good time." Chris's voice pulls Lance from his musings, and he opens his eyes, well aware of how he looks, skin rosy red and marred with sharp redpurple bruises in the shape and size of fingerprints. He smiles lazily.
"Used well," he agrees, shuddering through a full-body stretch. "Help me clean up and get ready?"
"You know it, baby." Chris drops a careless kiss on Lance's head, hand stroking across Lance's ass, lingering just long enough to intensify the heat simmering there.
He's gone just as quickly, moving through the room and on into the bath. After a moment of quiet the sound of water filling the tub echoes through the room. By the time Lance joins Chris in the bathroom it's steamy and fragrant from whatever oil Chris added to the water. The heat of the water makes Lance's skin draw up tight with goosebumps as he lowers himself into the tub, and Chris rubs them away, hands stroking slow and sensual over tired, sore muscles.
There's more than a tingle of fire under his skin by the time Chris has Lance soaped and stroked and rinsed. When Lance stands up he feels electrified, body sizzling and ready, and the water sluicing down over him makes him shiver violently. Chris touches him so carefully, fingers trailing over his dick, his balls, up and down his thighs until Lance is hard and ready, wanting…needing…more.
"I want you later," Chris murmurs into Lance's ear as he helps him out of the tub. "After He's done with you…come to me?"
"Yeah," Lance breathes, turning his head for a kiss. Chris tastes spicy-sweet, like cinnamon and chocolate. "But we need to--"
"Hurry, I know." Chris touches Lance's shoulders, his throat, fingers pressing into the bruises until Lance hisses and arches toward him. "So gorgeous like this. He'll love it."
While Chris dries him off, Lance closes his eyes and thinks about JC, and heat, and the soft scratch of terry against his skin. It scritches the heat up again until Lance thinks he can see it shimmering over him like another layer of skin.
He's so hard it hurts, though it's muted pain, twisting and turning and melding with the pleasure already trickling through him. Chris wraps Lance's dick with twists of leather, a cock-ring to hold him like this until He is ready for Lance to come. It's only for JC's pleasure that Lance gets that particular treat, but JC never denies him. Just likes to choreograph when and how it happens.
"Almost done." Chris whispers the words against Lance's throat, small, clever hands stroking oil into his skin, now. Lance loves the slip-slide of oil over his body; loves the way everything glides against him when he's oiled. "Spread your legs," is whispered against his hip, and Lance trembles when Chris slips slick fingers over tight muscle before pressing inward.
One finger. Two fingers. More oil trickles down the insides of his thighs and Lance is glad for the cock-ring, because without it? He'd have come already. He's not really sure he hasn't, at least a little, with Chris's hands urging him toward it. Everything feels warm and soft around the edges, and when Chris pops up in front of him he wears a reckless grin.
"He wants me in the other room," Lance says, holding himself still. If he leans in toward Chris now he won't want to leave, and that would be bad. Very bad. "On the--"
Chris sucks in a breath and Lance feels it like a molten wave in the pit of his stomach, reacting to Chris's reaction. He hasn't even said where, but he knows Chris knows. Chris helped JC get it fashioned and placed and secured.
"Come on, then," Chris says. "I'll help."
If it weren't for the headspace he's already settled into, Lance would laugh. Help? Sure. Right.
The dildo, long and sleek, gleams black in the bright light shining down on it. It's the only spot of light, and beyond its edges the room is dull, out-of-focus. Up closer to it, and Lance remembers the burn of it when it slides into him; it's thick, wide, borders on painful when it stretches him open. A pain that zips through him and out of him and back around again. Chris kneels behind and slicks it up with the bottle of oil, giving the room a sharp scent that settles into Lance and makes him restless, so ready for this.
It's awkward, at first, moving into position, and then his body remembers -- muscle memory, Lance thinks, distractedly. Chris's hands steady him, hold him, and the hiss and soft moan Chris gives when Lance pushes down makes him moan., even before penetration registers.
He feels every inch of it as he slides down, body stretching to accommodate, until Lance is firmly on his knees. His head swims, everything just a little out of focus now, except the way his body throbs around the dildo, muscles flexing as if to push it out. When he glances down, Lance smiles at the drops of oil on the floor under him, and the droplets of pre-come slick on the end of his dick.
So ready.
Chris kisses him one last time, whispers that he loves Lance, and then he's gone, leaving Lance alone in the room, to await JC and JC's pleasure.
~fin~
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no subject
Date: 2007-01-17 08:12 am (UTC)Oh this is so nice. And hot. God there's something about feeling the reactions of the person supposedly in control that you just GET in this.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-17 10:27 am (UTC)You describe things so well, creating such a beautiful atmosphere that quickly heats to sizzling hot.
"Almost done." Chris whispers the words against Lance's throat, small, clever hands stroking oil into his skin, now
Hand porn!
Thank you so much for sharing!
no subject
Date: 2007-01-17 01:51 pm (UTC)