Steviana McGarrett and the Irish mummy
Title : Steviana McGarrett and the Irish mummy
Author : siriala
Rating : NC-17
Word count : 3,6k
Fandom : Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre : AU, slash, fantasy
Characters : Danny Williams, Steve McGarrett ; mentions of : Tani Rey, Doris McGarrett, Mary Ann McGarrett
Pairings : Danny/Steve
Beta : the wonderful and incredible honscot
Disclaimer : balivernes et billevesées, hokum and twaddle. Hawaii Five-0 (2010) and its characters belong to CBS, I'm just playing with them temporarily.
Warnings/enticements : mummy!Danny, bad mummy!Danny !!, archeologist!Steve a la Indiana Jones, fake dub-con, fake necrophilia, top!Danny, bottom!Steve, coma
Summary : Steve is fearless, eager to seek out and explain what no other archeologist before him was able to discover. A mummy in Ireland ? That's right up his alley ! Danger be damned, he'll uncover the secrets of the Irish mummy.
Notes : Blame my imagination for coming up with the idea of Indiana!Steve, while I was (bored) at work filing stuff, and picturing him running around, trying to escape scary mummies… and then, surprise mummy!Danny sexing him up ! I love my imagination ;)
Also, this is the first part of a series called Steve in Dreamland in which Steve comes to terms with being attracted to other men, and particularly his best friend, who he might be more than a little bit in love with, through a string of weird dreams. These are sex dreams, which means there will be kinks, a lot of kinks, sometimes hard ones, so steer clear if you like it only down-to-earth and fully-clothed.
I began this story when Kono and Chin were still around, but as it turned into a series and seasons came and went, I decided to use only Tani and Junior for present scenes and set it all in the latest Five-0 seasons. It's so easy to imagine the lovely Tani setting this whole thing in motion with her irreverent comments. But rest assured that Kono and Chin will appear too in dreamland. They will forever be parts of Steve's ohana.
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Ireland is beautiful and green. Nothing like the luscious forest of Hawaii. Ireland is in some way more introverted and secret, but gorgeous all the same.
Now that he's here, Steve can't remember why he never came before. He can't wait to discover what's hidden farther into the cave he just found the entrance to. He adjusts his fedora and steps in.
At first, cobwebs slow down his progression, thick with generations of spiders making this place their home, as well as the numerous screes covered with moss highlighting how long it's been since any human being came inside the cavern. But it gets easier as he gets deeper, and he perseveres, sure that something special's waiting for him at the corner of some nature-carved corridor. Something that will have the whole archeology community jealous of his finding.
The first tip showing that he's probably right comes in the form of a beautifully adorned chariot. Once again, he has to tear away dusty cobwebs, but the black painting finally appears next to the golden swirls marking every part of this relic of another culture. It's like time didn't have any hold on it, its magnificence untouched once Steve has liberated it from dust.
He keeps going, and the next things he finds are earthenware crockery, clay pots, crooked and sometimes even broken, iron knives and spoons. Next to this exhibition straight out of some Kitchen Weekly magazine for Antiquity readers, Steve's pretty sure the small, rounded barrels contain mead, or rather they did, a long time ago. He begins to suspect this is a tomb. Instead of a burial mound, people of an ancient time used the cave to bury one of their elite, sending him to the next world with his belongings, to show the gods how respected he was. It could also be a woman's tomb, but the weapons Steve finds not far from there seem to confirm that the place is dedicated to a man. Probably a warrior, a protector of the clan.
By the end of a narrow and very straight corridor, Steve's path finally takes him to a new room. Here, the ceiling gets so high Steve can hardly see it with his torch. Same for the other end of the cavern. There's a river running down one side, placidly, a gentle murmur in the silence of the cave, like a constant prayer in a darkened crypt, and Steve is taken by the sanctity of the moment he's living, so very aware he's treading on sacred ground, at the doorstep between life and death.
This man, whoever he was, had obviously been well loved and cared for. The people he had left behind had made sure he would enjoy his afterlife and lack for nothing. Children probably, who had revered their father and mourned his passing, their love attested by the many everyday objects they had left with him to make sure his travel to the other side would be safe and his next life easy.
Steve doesn't know why, but he's not surprised to discover that the tomb is inhabited by only one man, no female companion to be seen. He's not even surprised to find him in the form of a mummy, as the resurgence of the river probably saturated the room's air with carbon dioxide at some point in the past and helped with the body's preservation. The corpse is admirably well preserved, standing up against a wall. A few iron bars, mostly under his arms, hold the body in this position, and it's not something Steve's ever seen but it makes sense if the people in days of old thought the dead man had to be on his feet to travel to the next world.
The bandages are weird, though. He doesn't remember ever hearing about dead corpses found in Ireland wrapped in bandages, like an Egyptian mummy from some early 20th century Hollywood horror movie. Unrealistic, but frightening under the right circumstances. Steve wonders for a minute if this could be a hoax, about to look for the cameras memorializing his foolishness for the world to see. But there's something too real about the whole cave and the relics to question them any further.
Steve keeps questioning his finding anyway. There's no dust or cobwebs on and around the mummy. And even though the setting might have had something to do with the preservation of the body, as he surmised before, the level of CO2 in the air is normal enough these days that it has no effect on him, and the cave's humidity should probably have destroyed the mummy long ago, leaving it decayed, rotting. So Steve can't help touching it to make sure it's still whole and sturdy, and yes, it is. It doesn't give when Steve pokes. The bandages are dry, not damp or falling in tatters.
Steve takes a look around, searching for something to explain the mummy's mint condition, but there's nothing more than what he already saw, ancient tools and utensils. And for some reason, he knows all this is not fake either.
When his eyes land back on the mummy, Steve jumps. It's true he mostly looked at the mummy's body as a whole, but he's kinda sure that the face was pretty much entirely bandaged and the eyes closed when he first saw it. And now they're wide open, fixed and unseeing, stunning white and blue, in the middle of the skin, darkened by the passing of centuries, that appears between strips of antique clothes.
But this is nothing like Steve's childhood nightmares. The mummy doesn't wake up and take shaky steps to reach him. No, it doesn't move, and without any instrument to take scientific measures, Steve finally gives in to the urge to turn away to check the rest of the cave, if only to find answers about the excellent state the mummy's in.
Steve realizes the place has also been artistically prepared for the passing to another world when he spots a little animal, that looks a lot like a monkey, among a bigger fresco adorning the biggest walls behind the mummy. The animal is playing among branches and humans alike, a grin on its pretty face as it looks at a particular human that Steve is sure is the representation of the deceased. And he can't help but grin too as he observes the man's indulgent smile looking at this monkey as well as a smaller one's antics.
Steve turns back to the mummy, sure this is the man buried here who's displayed on that wall, blond and short, happy and handsome. He loved children and animals, but the brown leather gear he's been drawn in confirms Steve's hypothesis that he was also a protector of the tribe, always ready to fight.
Something's not right. He'd swear that, just a second ago, the mummy wasn't so close to the edge of the bars holding it, and immediately he feels foolish for worrying about moving mummies.
"Get a grip, Steviana !" he tells himself in his best inner-Doris voice.
His mother is the one who came up with the stupid nickname when he was a kid, right after the whole family watched the Indiana Jones series and Steve began to play the intrepid archeologist/adventurer. And as stupid as the nickname still feels nowadays - even more so at his age - he can't help but admit that she's the one who saw, before everyone else, that Steve's interest was more than a passing fancy.
Indeed here he is, more than twenty years later, vindicating his late mother day after day and feeling very much like Indy looking for the Ark of the Covenant. So he guesses Steviana is not that stupid a nickname in the end. As long as Mary doesn't mock him with it, anyway.
Another movement catches his attention, and this time he's sure. The mummy has moved !
He's sure because it's nowhere to be seen anymore. A deep shiver of fright goes through Steve's body, rendering him alert to the tiniest noises around him, but the river singing on its course down the cavern makes it difficult to hear anything. So Steve decides to go through the whole place if he needs to, holding his torch high to try and find the dead body.
He turns around, bringing his torch to light every corner, every nook and cranny of the cave that all of a sudden doesn't look so welcoming. He feels gusts of air through the hair on his arms and it makes him jump, turning around once more, ready to fight, but there's nothing, close or otherwise. The mummy's gone.
And then he turns again and finds himself almost nose to nose with it, save for the fact that it's shorter than him. He doesn't shout in fear but feels powerless to move in any other way than a sharp intake of breath ; the sensation of being hypnotized, submitted to this very special being, gets stronger as the mummy's very blue eyes bore longer into his. If it wasn't for their height difference, the mummy could kiss him right now, standing so close to Steve. And he wouldn't do anything to stop it.
The dead man's arms rise and his hands land on Steve's chest. More bandages have come off, hanging from the mummy's wrists as the hands roam over Steve's torso, sliding up and up, passing over his nipples to reach his throat. And then they squeeze.
It takes only a few seconds before Steve runs out of air. Try as he might, the mummy's too strong and he can't unclench its grip around his neck. He begins to see stars that turn into little black dots and soon he's falling down on his knees, the mummy following his fall until Steve's lying on the floor, hardly conscious.
The hands stop strangling him at last, and Steve takes a formidable breath to bring oxygen to his starving brain and lungs. Another mouthful of air, and then again and again, and it takes all that time for Steve to realize the mummy is disrobing him.
He tries to fight. Not that he gives it his best, as if the mummy's eyes staring deep into his own deprive him of any motivation to escape, leaving him to feel like he's got no will left to fight this off. So it's all very well for the mummy to strip him of his clothes, one item after another, by tearing them apart with its pointy fingers and elongated nails.
In no time, Steve finds himself naked, held down by the mummy whose eyes are still fixed but definitely looking at him, seeing him now, not lost in some distant past.
Steve hadn't realized how fit the man behind the mummy was before. Short and quite dead, okay. But also broad-chested and athletic, and clearly horny. And Steve can't blame him, after so many centuries of abstinence. Somehow he feels quite the same and has no problem relating.
He can't prevent his eyes from going down, looking for the mummy's dick that's now completely erect, piercing through more loose bandages, and finds himself salivating. It's big. Nothing dried up or sunk in about it. It looks alive, ready to fuck. To fuck Steve, as if his ass had awakened it, made the blood - supposedly driven out - pump the flesh and vessels into a state of complete erection. And Steve wants it inside him. Wants to test his theory and know if it's made for him.
His wish is met with flying colors. The mummy bends, loose bandages now wrapping around Steve's arms and legs to keep him from struggling, and his mouth grazes Steve's right nipple, surprisingly white teeth nipping at it before they move over to play with the left nipple.
Steve thought the lips would be dried and sharp, but the tanned skin is amazingly soft, its color very pleasing to Steve's eyes. And for all his fears, the mummy's cock, that is just a tad darker than any erect dick badly in need to come, slides inside him easily, regardless of its girth and length, ensuring that Steve's channel opens up for it, yielding and welcoming despite the lack of lube.
The sensation is simply incredible and the mummy's hungry, domineering gaze makes Steve feel owned, right like it should. Steve's never known such a fierce lover. His addiction is immediate, complete, scary in its depth. He wants this moment to last forever.
He wants the pleasure to last, that makes him cry out with every thrust, every heavy push and glide against his most intimate flesh. And he wants to keep feeling like he belongs to someone at last. So he spreads his legs as much as he can and gives himself entirely to the desperate fucking. Shuts his mind to live in the instant.
It ends too soon as he comes hard. For minutes on end, it seems, Steve shoots his load and reaches nirvana. The mummy's hands keep stroking him everywhere, persuading Steve all the more that his body does belong to the dead man. Steve's moans and cries of bliss encourage his very special lover to go on as long as Steve keeps coming.
And then the mummy's gone again. Steve's alone, naked on the floor, feeling content and sated, wondering if any of this really happened or if he just bumped his head hard on some sneaky stalactite and fainted enough to hallucinate.
He gets his breath back and begins to think about standing back up, find what's left of his clothes and resume his search, but then the entire cave is shaken and a swarm of mummies run out of the walls, all of them making a beeline for Steve.
His sense of self-preservation finally kicks in. Abandoning his clothes, Steve stands up and runs. But the mummies had a head start on him, they come from everywhere, and there's too many of them. He doesn't even have time to leave the chamber before the first three land on him and push him back to the ground. He's violently jostled as each of them try to push the others to align with his body and fuck him first, and it's worse when more mummies arrive and want their fair share of him.
In the end, one of them wins the contest and penetrates him with the same determination the first mummy did. Steve's mouth opens on a silent cry as the feeling of fullness and intense pleasure grabs him again, but a moan finally escapes when another mummy takes advantage of the opportunity to slide its own dick between his lips. Steve looks into the eyes of this mummy and thinks he recognizes the blue of his first lover. He can't help but feel happy to live this new development with the same mummy, another first with him, something they share once more, that he can offer to the not-so-dead guy who taught him about fucking and giving pleasure.
But as soon as the mummy comes down his throat and then leaves its place for another one to invade his mouth in the same manner, Steve realizes his mistake. The mummy was not the same one who got him first. All of them are the same one. All of them of the same height and weight, same blue eyes and blond hair. All of them craving Steve's ass and mouth to make love to him again and again, any way they can.
He still can't move, trapped under the bodies of all the mummies fighting for the right to fuck him now and caught on a network of bandages very similar to that of a giant cobweb designed to hold a full grown man like him. Rough-edged nails have sliced into his skin in so many places he can't count anymore the number of cuts he's sporting. But none of it is important compared to the ongoing pleasure he's freely offered. Steve feels himself well fucked from both ends, while many hands and scratchy nails play with the rest of his body, and he's so close to coming once again. He wants it, but his orgasm seems staved off until one very long nail, sharp like a blade, skims over his right nipple and then he's off, shooting his load like a firecracker as both current mummies keep on fucking him, and he never wants it to stop.
Wants to live forever with the mummies, here in this secluded cave, what he'll never be able to get outside of this place.
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Steve jumped off his chair the second he realized what he was planning to do. What he was doing. He looked down at himself : erect cock jutting out of his pushed down cargo pants and underwear now menacing to fall down his legs in this position ; treacherous fist that had been stroking it to painful hardness ; other hand keeping his shirt up as it played with one of his nipples in pretty much the same way the mummies had pinched and pulled at them.
A strong shudder seemed to really wake him up at last and pushed him into action, putting his clothes back in order and hiding, as best he could, his giant boner.
Once done, he was finally able to turn towards the hospital bed his best friend was still lying on and consider if damage control needed to be done.
But Danny was still unconscious, his face and other parts of his body hidden under too many bandages for Steve's peace of mind, even though the doctors had assured him that Danny would make a full recovery.
Tell that to his brain, who was busy associating his best friend and partner with a dead corpse walking around and…
And fucking Steve just like Steve had dreamed of for months now - years, if he wanted to be honest - and even more since Danny had declared in front of their whole ohana that he was no one's bottom, right this morning, before all hell broke loose and Danny got injured. Had he been trying to prove his manliness, going for once into danger when Steve himself had hesitated, just because they had learned about those stupid fanfics that a few weird teenagers with too much time on their hands were writing about the Governor's very impressive task force ? Just because Tani had laughed with utter glee at the purple prose written about two very male members of the team getting it on at the first opportunity over every vaguely practical surface available. The shorter one playing the bitch for his boss, and Steve was sure he had seen Danny's jaw close to the breaking point if he had squeezed any harder, the sign of an anger so tightly held in that Steve felt lightheaded already, almost hard, thinking about Danny's rant the moment he finally let loose.
But the only comment Danny had gratified the fanfic with was this pithy 'I'm no one's bottom' that had sent Steve's heart and mind into orbit, and his cock into hardness, proving - if need be - that he very much liked the idea of Danny in control when it came to sex.
This was getting ridiculous ! He had to come up with a way to talk to Danny without putting their friendship in danger and find out if, maybe, there was some chance that he might feel the same about Steve…
Steve turned and walked to the window, casting an unseeing look over the city as he tried to elaborate a plan and muster his courage for a real talk to put him out of his misery and possibly win the heart of the man he loved. Present his feelings and longings to Danny in a way that felt natural, not coming out of the blue, or inspired by fans who didn't really know what they were talking about. Give him time to realize his own feelings and to imagine what they could be like together, sharing everything, even if Danny had never thought about them as a couple.
Let him imagine Steve as his very own bottom. They both deserved to find love with someone who understood who they were, deep down, someone who was ready to share everything with the other, to give him everything.
But Danny's too-close brush with death was no excuse for the way Steve had acted while he was dozing at his bedside. Anyone could have come in and found him like that, creeper extraordinaire wanking next to his comatose best friend.
Measures had to be taken, one way or the other.
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Behind Steve, Danny's bandaged hand squeezed hard on nothing but air. Under more bandages, his smile was nothing short of predatory, coma erasing all other consideration that didn't have to do with his prey.
In this shadow world, Steve was his at last.
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Another mummy pops into life and automatically seeks Steve. All of them seek Steve. All of them want him, forever.
And the man gives himself to each and every one of them, the only tension he's showing brought by the visibly insane pleasure coursing through him as hands caress him everywhere. He keeps his legs spread apart and his mouth wide open for them to play with him. His moans are like music to the mummies' ears, his come a nectar.
With each incarnation sliding deep inside the archeologist's body, from one end or the other, the mummy's hold on to the man grows and he knows he'll never let him go.
-------FIN-------
Author : siriala
Rating : NC-17
Word count : 3,6k
Fandom : Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre : AU, slash, fantasy
Characters : Danny Williams, Steve McGarrett ; mentions of : Tani Rey, Doris McGarrett, Mary Ann McGarrett
Pairings : Danny/Steve
Beta : the wonderful and incredible honscot
Disclaimer : balivernes et billevesées, hokum and twaddle. Hawaii Five-0 (2010) and its characters belong to CBS, I'm just playing with them temporarily.
Warnings/enticements : mummy!Danny, bad mummy!Danny !!, archeologist!Steve a la Indiana Jones, fake dub-con, fake necrophilia, top!Danny, bottom!Steve, coma
Summary : Steve is fearless, eager to seek out and explain what no other archeologist before him was able to discover. A mummy in Ireland ? That's right up his alley ! Danger be damned, he'll uncover the secrets of the Irish mummy.
Notes : Blame my imagination for coming up with the idea of Indiana!Steve, while I was (bored) at work filing stuff, and picturing him running around, trying to escape scary mummies… and then, surprise mummy!Danny sexing him up ! I love my imagination ;)
Also, this is the first part of a series called Steve in Dreamland in which Steve comes to terms with being attracted to other men, and particularly his best friend, who he might be more than a little bit in love with, through a string of weird dreams. These are sex dreams, which means there will be kinks, a lot of kinks, sometimes hard ones, so steer clear if you like it only down-to-earth and fully-clothed.
I began this story when Kono and Chin were still around, but as it turned into a series and seasons came and went, I decided to use only Tani and Junior for present scenes and set it all in the latest Five-0 seasons. It's so easy to imagine the lovely Tani setting this whole thing in motion with her irreverent comments. But rest assured that Kono and Chin will appear too in dreamland. They will forever be parts of Steve's ohana.
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Ireland is beautiful and green. Nothing like the luscious forest of Hawaii. Ireland is in some way more introverted and secret, but gorgeous all the same.
Now that he's here, Steve can't remember why he never came before. He can't wait to discover what's hidden farther into the cave he just found the entrance to. He adjusts his fedora and steps in.
At first, cobwebs slow down his progression, thick with generations of spiders making this place their home, as well as the numerous screes covered with moss highlighting how long it's been since any human being came inside the cavern. But it gets easier as he gets deeper, and he perseveres, sure that something special's waiting for him at the corner of some nature-carved corridor. Something that will have the whole archeology community jealous of his finding.
The first tip showing that he's probably right comes in the form of a beautifully adorned chariot. Once again, he has to tear away dusty cobwebs, but the black painting finally appears next to the golden swirls marking every part of this relic of another culture. It's like time didn't have any hold on it, its magnificence untouched once Steve has liberated it from dust.
He keeps going, and the next things he finds are earthenware crockery, clay pots, crooked and sometimes even broken, iron knives and spoons. Next to this exhibition straight out of some Kitchen Weekly magazine for Antiquity readers, Steve's pretty sure the small, rounded barrels contain mead, or rather they did, a long time ago. He begins to suspect this is a tomb. Instead of a burial mound, people of an ancient time used the cave to bury one of their elite, sending him to the next world with his belongings, to show the gods how respected he was. It could also be a woman's tomb, but the weapons Steve finds not far from there seem to confirm that the place is dedicated to a man. Probably a warrior, a protector of the clan.
By the end of a narrow and very straight corridor, Steve's path finally takes him to a new room. Here, the ceiling gets so high Steve can hardly see it with his torch. Same for the other end of the cavern. There's a river running down one side, placidly, a gentle murmur in the silence of the cave, like a constant prayer in a darkened crypt, and Steve is taken by the sanctity of the moment he's living, so very aware he's treading on sacred ground, at the doorstep between life and death.
This man, whoever he was, had obviously been well loved and cared for. The people he had left behind had made sure he would enjoy his afterlife and lack for nothing. Children probably, who had revered their father and mourned his passing, their love attested by the many everyday objects they had left with him to make sure his travel to the other side would be safe and his next life easy.
Steve doesn't know why, but he's not surprised to discover that the tomb is inhabited by only one man, no female companion to be seen. He's not even surprised to find him in the form of a mummy, as the resurgence of the river probably saturated the room's air with carbon dioxide at some point in the past and helped with the body's preservation. The corpse is admirably well preserved, standing up against a wall. A few iron bars, mostly under his arms, hold the body in this position, and it's not something Steve's ever seen but it makes sense if the people in days of old thought the dead man had to be on his feet to travel to the next world.
The bandages are weird, though. He doesn't remember ever hearing about dead corpses found in Ireland wrapped in bandages, like an Egyptian mummy from some early 20th century Hollywood horror movie. Unrealistic, but frightening under the right circumstances. Steve wonders for a minute if this could be a hoax, about to look for the cameras memorializing his foolishness for the world to see. But there's something too real about the whole cave and the relics to question them any further.
Steve keeps questioning his finding anyway. There's no dust or cobwebs on and around the mummy. And even though the setting might have had something to do with the preservation of the body, as he surmised before, the level of CO2 in the air is normal enough these days that it has no effect on him, and the cave's humidity should probably have destroyed the mummy long ago, leaving it decayed, rotting. So Steve can't help touching it to make sure it's still whole and sturdy, and yes, it is. It doesn't give when Steve pokes. The bandages are dry, not damp or falling in tatters.
Steve takes a look around, searching for something to explain the mummy's mint condition, but there's nothing more than what he already saw, ancient tools and utensils. And for some reason, he knows all this is not fake either.
When his eyes land back on the mummy, Steve jumps. It's true he mostly looked at the mummy's body as a whole, but he's kinda sure that the face was pretty much entirely bandaged and the eyes closed when he first saw it. And now they're wide open, fixed and unseeing, stunning white and blue, in the middle of the skin, darkened by the passing of centuries, that appears between strips of antique clothes.
But this is nothing like Steve's childhood nightmares. The mummy doesn't wake up and take shaky steps to reach him. No, it doesn't move, and without any instrument to take scientific measures, Steve finally gives in to the urge to turn away to check the rest of the cave, if only to find answers about the excellent state the mummy's in.
Steve realizes the place has also been artistically prepared for the passing to another world when he spots a little animal, that looks a lot like a monkey, among a bigger fresco adorning the biggest walls behind the mummy. The animal is playing among branches and humans alike, a grin on its pretty face as it looks at a particular human that Steve is sure is the representation of the deceased. And he can't help but grin too as he observes the man's indulgent smile looking at this monkey as well as a smaller one's antics.
Steve turns back to the mummy, sure this is the man buried here who's displayed on that wall, blond and short, happy and handsome. He loved children and animals, but the brown leather gear he's been drawn in confirms Steve's hypothesis that he was also a protector of the tribe, always ready to fight.
Something's not right. He'd swear that, just a second ago, the mummy wasn't so close to the edge of the bars holding it, and immediately he feels foolish for worrying about moving mummies.
"Get a grip, Steviana !" he tells himself in his best inner-Doris voice.
His mother is the one who came up with the stupid nickname when he was a kid, right after the whole family watched the Indiana Jones series and Steve began to play the intrepid archeologist/adventurer. And as stupid as the nickname still feels nowadays - even more so at his age - he can't help but admit that she's the one who saw, before everyone else, that Steve's interest was more than a passing fancy.
Indeed here he is, more than twenty years later, vindicating his late mother day after day and feeling very much like Indy looking for the Ark of the Covenant. So he guesses Steviana is not that stupid a nickname in the end. As long as Mary doesn't mock him with it, anyway.
Another movement catches his attention, and this time he's sure. The mummy has moved !
He's sure because it's nowhere to be seen anymore. A deep shiver of fright goes through Steve's body, rendering him alert to the tiniest noises around him, but the river singing on its course down the cavern makes it difficult to hear anything. So Steve decides to go through the whole place if he needs to, holding his torch high to try and find the dead body.
He turns around, bringing his torch to light every corner, every nook and cranny of the cave that all of a sudden doesn't look so welcoming. He feels gusts of air through the hair on his arms and it makes him jump, turning around once more, ready to fight, but there's nothing, close or otherwise. The mummy's gone.
And then he turns again and finds himself almost nose to nose with it, save for the fact that it's shorter than him. He doesn't shout in fear but feels powerless to move in any other way than a sharp intake of breath ; the sensation of being hypnotized, submitted to this very special being, gets stronger as the mummy's very blue eyes bore longer into his. If it wasn't for their height difference, the mummy could kiss him right now, standing so close to Steve. And he wouldn't do anything to stop it.
The dead man's arms rise and his hands land on Steve's chest. More bandages have come off, hanging from the mummy's wrists as the hands roam over Steve's torso, sliding up and up, passing over his nipples to reach his throat. And then they squeeze.
It takes only a few seconds before Steve runs out of air. Try as he might, the mummy's too strong and he can't unclench its grip around his neck. He begins to see stars that turn into little black dots and soon he's falling down on his knees, the mummy following his fall until Steve's lying on the floor, hardly conscious.
The hands stop strangling him at last, and Steve takes a formidable breath to bring oxygen to his starving brain and lungs. Another mouthful of air, and then again and again, and it takes all that time for Steve to realize the mummy is disrobing him.
He tries to fight. Not that he gives it his best, as if the mummy's eyes staring deep into his own deprive him of any motivation to escape, leaving him to feel like he's got no will left to fight this off. So it's all very well for the mummy to strip him of his clothes, one item after another, by tearing them apart with its pointy fingers and elongated nails.
In no time, Steve finds himself naked, held down by the mummy whose eyes are still fixed but definitely looking at him, seeing him now, not lost in some distant past.
Steve hadn't realized how fit the man behind the mummy was before. Short and quite dead, okay. But also broad-chested and athletic, and clearly horny. And Steve can't blame him, after so many centuries of abstinence. Somehow he feels quite the same and has no problem relating.
He can't prevent his eyes from going down, looking for the mummy's dick that's now completely erect, piercing through more loose bandages, and finds himself salivating. It's big. Nothing dried up or sunk in about it. It looks alive, ready to fuck. To fuck Steve, as if his ass had awakened it, made the blood - supposedly driven out - pump the flesh and vessels into a state of complete erection. And Steve wants it inside him. Wants to test his theory and know if it's made for him.
His wish is met with flying colors. The mummy bends, loose bandages now wrapping around Steve's arms and legs to keep him from struggling, and his mouth grazes Steve's right nipple, surprisingly white teeth nipping at it before they move over to play with the left nipple.
Steve thought the lips would be dried and sharp, but the tanned skin is amazingly soft, its color very pleasing to Steve's eyes. And for all his fears, the mummy's cock, that is just a tad darker than any erect dick badly in need to come, slides inside him easily, regardless of its girth and length, ensuring that Steve's channel opens up for it, yielding and welcoming despite the lack of lube.
The sensation is simply incredible and the mummy's hungry, domineering gaze makes Steve feel owned, right like it should. Steve's never known such a fierce lover. His addiction is immediate, complete, scary in its depth. He wants this moment to last forever.
He wants the pleasure to last, that makes him cry out with every thrust, every heavy push and glide against his most intimate flesh. And he wants to keep feeling like he belongs to someone at last. So he spreads his legs as much as he can and gives himself entirely to the desperate fucking. Shuts his mind to live in the instant.
It ends too soon as he comes hard. For minutes on end, it seems, Steve shoots his load and reaches nirvana. The mummy's hands keep stroking him everywhere, persuading Steve all the more that his body does belong to the dead man. Steve's moans and cries of bliss encourage his very special lover to go on as long as Steve keeps coming.
And then the mummy's gone again. Steve's alone, naked on the floor, feeling content and sated, wondering if any of this really happened or if he just bumped his head hard on some sneaky stalactite and fainted enough to hallucinate.
He gets his breath back and begins to think about standing back up, find what's left of his clothes and resume his search, but then the entire cave is shaken and a swarm of mummies run out of the walls, all of them making a beeline for Steve.
His sense of self-preservation finally kicks in. Abandoning his clothes, Steve stands up and runs. But the mummies had a head start on him, they come from everywhere, and there's too many of them. He doesn't even have time to leave the chamber before the first three land on him and push him back to the ground. He's violently jostled as each of them try to push the others to align with his body and fuck him first, and it's worse when more mummies arrive and want their fair share of him.
In the end, one of them wins the contest and penetrates him with the same determination the first mummy did. Steve's mouth opens on a silent cry as the feeling of fullness and intense pleasure grabs him again, but a moan finally escapes when another mummy takes advantage of the opportunity to slide its own dick between his lips. Steve looks into the eyes of this mummy and thinks he recognizes the blue of his first lover. He can't help but feel happy to live this new development with the same mummy, another first with him, something they share once more, that he can offer to the not-so-dead guy who taught him about fucking and giving pleasure.
But as soon as the mummy comes down his throat and then leaves its place for another one to invade his mouth in the same manner, Steve realizes his mistake. The mummy was not the same one who got him first. All of them are the same one. All of them of the same height and weight, same blue eyes and blond hair. All of them craving Steve's ass and mouth to make love to him again and again, any way they can.
He still can't move, trapped under the bodies of all the mummies fighting for the right to fuck him now and caught on a network of bandages very similar to that of a giant cobweb designed to hold a full grown man like him. Rough-edged nails have sliced into his skin in so many places he can't count anymore the number of cuts he's sporting. But none of it is important compared to the ongoing pleasure he's freely offered. Steve feels himself well fucked from both ends, while many hands and scratchy nails play with the rest of his body, and he's so close to coming once again. He wants it, but his orgasm seems staved off until one very long nail, sharp like a blade, skims over his right nipple and then he's off, shooting his load like a firecracker as both current mummies keep on fucking him, and he never wants it to stop.
Wants to live forever with the mummies, here in this secluded cave, what he'll never be able to get outside of this place.
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Steve jumped off his chair the second he realized what he was planning to do. What he was doing. He looked down at himself : erect cock jutting out of his pushed down cargo pants and underwear now menacing to fall down his legs in this position ; treacherous fist that had been stroking it to painful hardness ; other hand keeping his shirt up as it played with one of his nipples in pretty much the same way the mummies had pinched and pulled at them.
A strong shudder seemed to really wake him up at last and pushed him into action, putting his clothes back in order and hiding, as best he could, his giant boner.
Once done, he was finally able to turn towards the hospital bed his best friend was still lying on and consider if damage control needed to be done.
But Danny was still unconscious, his face and other parts of his body hidden under too many bandages for Steve's peace of mind, even though the doctors had assured him that Danny would make a full recovery.
Tell that to his brain, who was busy associating his best friend and partner with a dead corpse walking around and…
And fucking Steve just like Steve had dreamed of for months now - years, if he wanted to be honest - and even more since Danny had declared in front of their whole ohana that he was no one's bottom, right this morning, before all hell broke loose and Danny got injured. Had he been trying to prove his manliness, going for once into danger when Steve himself had hesitated, just because they had learned about those stupid fanfics that a few weird teenagers with too much time on their hands were writing about the Governor's very impressive task force ? Just because Tani had laughed with utter glee at the purple prose written about two very male members of the team getting it on at the first opportunity over every vaguely practical surface available. The shorter one playing the bitch for his boss, and Steve was sure he had seen Danny's jaw close to the breaking point if he had squeezed any harder, the sign of an anger so tightly held in that Steve felt lightheaded already, almost hard, thinking about Danny's rant the moment he finally let loose.
But the only comment Danny had gratified the fanfic with was this pithy 'I'm no one's bottom' that had sent Steve's heart and mind into orbit, and his cock into hardness, proving - if need be - that he very much liked the idea of Danny in control when it came to sex.
This was getting ridiculous ! He had to come up with a way to talk to Danny without putting their friendship in danger and find out if, maybe, there was some chance that he might feel the same about Steve…
Steve turned and walked to the window, casting an unseeing look over the city as he tried to elaborate a plan and muster his courage for a real talk to put him out of his misery and possibly win the heart of the man he loved. Present his feelings and longings to Danny in a way that felt natural, not coming out of the blue, or inspired by fans who didn't really know what they were talking about. Give him time to realize his own feelings and to imagine what they could be like together, sharing everything, even if Danny had never thought about them as a couple.
Let him imagine Steve as his very own bottom. They both deserved to find love with someone who understood who they were, deep down, someone who was ready to share everything with the other, to give him everything.
But Danny's too-close brush with death was no excuse for the way Steve had acted while he was dozing at his bedside. Anyone could have come in and found him like that, creeper extraordinaire wanking next to his comatose best friend.
Measures had to be taken, one way or the other.
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Behind Steve, Danny's bandaged hand squeezed hard on nothing but air. Under more bandages, his smile was nothing short of predatory, coma erasing all other consideration that didn't have to do with his prey.
In this shadow world, Steve was his at last.
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Another mummy pops into life and automatically seeks Steve. All of them seek Steve. All of them want him, forever.
And the man gives himself to each and every one of them, the only tension he's showing brought by the visibly insane pleasure coursing through him as hands caress him everywhere. He keeps his legs spread apart and his mouth wide open for them to play with him. His moans are like music to the mummies' ears, his come a nectar.
With each incarnation sliding deep inside the archeologist's body, from one end or the other, the mummy's hold on to the man grows and he knows he'll never let him go.
-------FIN-------