Fic - "My Life Would Suck Without You"
Title: My Life Would Suck Without You
Author: colonel_bastard
Characters/Fandom: Megamind, Metro Man, cameo from Roxanne. Megamind [dur].
Word Count: 4,734
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Metro Man discovers that Megamind's feet are... rather sensitive.
Warnings: Slash, foot play, foot worship, foot job--- basically, YES I HAVE A FOOT FETISH.
Notes: Sequel to my first Metro Man/Megamind fic, Might As Well Face It (You're Addicted to Love), in which our hero gets a little too close to our villain and maybe likes it a little too much. This was written for an exchange with the awesome tripperfunster, who drew not only ONE but TWO gorgeous pieces of foot fetishistic art for me to ogle. In return she wanted a fic with first-time toe-sucking! And she gets that--- AND MORE. FEET FEET FEET THEY ARE SO SEXY. :D Costume troubles were inspired by this hilarious art by junosunderland, so, THANKS JUNO! Title is taken from this ridiculous song, which is sort of my official theme song for this pairing.
NOW WITH A SUPER-ROMANTIC ILLUSTRATION BY invderlava: see it RIGHT HERE!!
AND ANOTHER SMOKIN' HOT ILLUSTRATION BY tripperfunster: YOU KNOW YOU WANT IT.
AND A TOTALLY ADORABLE ILLUSTRATION BY pocketfriend: BEHOLD THE CUTE.
Explosions bloom on the horizon and Metro Man races to meet them. He doesn’t even know what’s going on--- he was in the middle of preparing for his latest interview with Roxanne for her special Metro City: Home of a Hero--- just that there’s something happening that probably shouldn’t be and he already knows who’s probably responsible. He cuts through the air like a bullet, aiming for the plumes of smoke that are already being snatched away by the wind. They’re rising from the very tip of the peninsula that makes up the warehouse district. Typical. Well, there’s one thing to be said for Megamind’s predictability--- at least he tends to choose places that are fairly secluded. It minimizes the number of civilian casualties--- in fact, Metro Man can’t remember there ever being a single one--- and it’s always an unexpectedly considerate gesture from the villain.
He notices a smoking hole in one warehouse roof, the edges of it still glowing with new embers. Always one for a dramatic entrance, Metro Man ignores the existing opening and makes one of his own, smashing down to the concrete floor in a shower of rubble. His eyes adjust instantly to the relatively dim interior of the building, and he immediately spots a skinny black-clad figure coughing and fanning at the dusty air.
“Cheese and rice!” Megamind splutters, and apparently this is his idea of cursing. “What was wrong with the entrance I made for you?”
“Justice can never follow a path laid out by Evil!” Metro Man announces. “Now where’s Roxanne, you fiend?”
“She’s, uh,” Those huge green eyes dart about self-consciously. “She’s not... here.”
“Where are you keeping her?”
“I’m not! I mean, I haven’t. I didn’t. She’s not involved. Not this time.”
Metro Man squints at him with great suspicion. Then he scans the warehouse with his super-vision for any sign of skullduggery. To his great confusion, he sees absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. No hostages, no more bombs, no spikes, no flamethrowers--- there isn’t even any sign of Minion and an escape vehicle. There’s just Megamind, his hoverbike, and the remains of the single harmless explosion that was used to lure in the hero.
“Is this a trick?” Metro Man wonders slowly.
“No trick,” Megamind shrugs. “I just wanted to see you.”
“So you blew up a warehouse?”
Megamind rolls his eyes and crosses his arms peevishly. “Well I couldn’t exactly page your beeper, could I?”
“What’s going on here?” The hero has backed up so that he’s smack underneath one of the holes in the ceiling, his knees already bent for take-off. “What do you want?”
It’s funny, but Megamind’s expression leading up to this moment could have almost been described as.... expectant. Now it falls into one of incredulity, his jaw going slack, his eyes bulging in outrage.
“What do you mean what do I want? What do you want?”
“What do you mean what do I want?” Metro Man hisses. “Are you crazy?”
Megamind slouches dejectedly, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout, his gaze hooded in a champion sulk.
“Fine. Be that way.”
“Be what way.”
“Go on! I can see you want to!” Now Megamind gestures wildly at the two impromptu skylights. “Fly away, pretty bird! No one’s keeping you here!”
“Listen,” Metro Man huffs. “I may have just about every awesome power imaginable, but unfortunately, telepathy is not one of them.”
“I would assume you at least have a certain level of, I don’t know, short-term memory?”
Megamind shrieks on the last word, and Metro Man can see that he’s genuinely upset. It suddenly dawns on him why. As much as he’s tried to pretend that it never happened, the truth is that the last time they were in a warehouse together, they were grinding each other senseless against the nearest pillar.
“Oh,” he mumbles.
“Oh,” repeats Megamind with a sneer. “Oh, he says.”
“Look, little buddy,” Metro Man squirms uncomfortably. “That was a mistake.”
The sneer vanishes. Megamind says blankly, “A mistake?”
“Uh, yeah,” the hero laughs, trying to make it sound obvious. “A huge mistake. The kind of mistake that, you know, never gets mentioned again. For everyone’s sake.”
Then, so quietly that he wouldn’t be able to hear it if it weren’t for his supernatural senses, he catches Megamind’s whisper of, “I thought... you liked it.”
Metro Man’s guts churn in a weird and unfamiliar way. Before he can stop himself he’s taken a few quick steps towards the villain, halting just in time to prevent his foolish arms from embracing him. Desperate to distract his hands before they reach out, he scratches the back of his neck. With both hands. Which, of course, looks really stupid. Megamind raises an eyebrow at his behavior.
“Uh,” Metro Man says helplessly.
“Uh...?” Megamind prompts.
His heavy arms drop to his sides. “I did like it.”
Megamind makes a giddy nonsense sound that might be transcribed as “eeheehee” and attempts to throw his arms around Metro Man’s neck. The hero catches his wrists and draws them out and up so that now he looks like he’s making a victory gesture that would usually be accompanied by a “whoop whoop” sound effect.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Metro Man says hastily. “I liked it, but---”
“But, what?” Megamind tries unsuccessfully to free himself. “Aren’t pleasurable acts intended to be repeated as often as possible?”
Oh, God, Metro Man can feel himself physically responding to that suggestion, his hips inclining towards the other as if they have a mind of their own. Megamind notices. He’s clever like that. Since his hands are pinioned, he reaches out with one booted foot, draws the toe along the inside of the hero’s leg, from ankle to upper thigh. Before he can reach any higher, Metro Man lifts him clean off the ground, leaving his dangerous feet dangling below him.
“I can’t,” he sighs harshly.
“Why not?”
“Because,” he mutters. “I’m the good guy.”
“And I’m the baaaaaad guy,” Megamind attempts to sound seductive. “So it’s okay for you to give in. This will be a thrilling chapter in your serialized life story one day. Metro Man’s flirtation with the dark side! I can just see it!”
“Don’t get excited,” Metro Man insists, though he’s talking to himself more than his companion.
Megamind is now swinging from his wrists, attempting to hook his feet around Metro Man’s waist. He’s not having much luck.
“Oh, pleeeease,” he whines. “I liked it. You liked it. I don’t see what the problem is!”
“I have a reputation to uphold!” the hero declares. “What would the people of Metro City think of me?”
“Honey,” Megamind snorts. “They don’t have to know.”
This is an option that has honestly never occurred to the hero. He’s lived almost his entire life in the public eye. Secrets? He’s never had a secret beyond his civilian identity, which hardly counts considering he’s spent a majority of his life as Metro Man. He never thought he was allowed to have privacy. The idea is so shocking and novel that he opens his hands, releasing the unprepared Megamind, who drops to the floor in a heap and a squawk of, “Ow, my perfect blue ass!”
“They don’t have to know...” Metro Man echoes, his voice full of wonder.
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Megamind grins, and snagging his foot around the back of the hero’s ankle, he gives it a significant tug. “Come down here. The view is amazing.”
Metro Man sinks to his knees between Megamind’s spread legs. The villain shakes his head--- not close enough!--- and reaches up to grab the collar of the hero’s costume, yanking him down so that their bodies are flush against each other. Megamind wriggles tantalizingly, and although he had planned to talk this out a little bit, maybe set some ground rules, Metro Man ends up kissing his arch-nemesis as stupidly and senselessly as he did the first time. The villain doesn’t seem to mind.
Last time was a blur. This time--- this time, they can take their time. There’s no rush, no fumble to a messy climax. Megamind works his jaw slowly, luxuriously, coaxing Metro Man into a slow, sensual rhythm. Now they can explore each other, and they do so with gusto. Hands trace ribcages and backs, hips and buttocks, feeling and stroking and coming to an understanding. Megamind is so, so much sturdier than he looks--- Metro Man relishes the fact that he can wrap one of his massive hands almost entirely around one of those slender thighs and squeeze, and rather than a hiss of pain, he’s rewarded with a hiss of pleasure.
Metro Man was nineteen when he dislocated his girlfriend’s shoulder. That was the last time he let himself get so close.
“I want to see more of you,” Megamind gasps against his ear. “I want to see your skin.”
They sit up, unclasping and tossing their capes aside. Then they both hesitate. As horny as they both are, there’s a simple logistical problem.
“How much... time do we have?” Megamind asks.
“Not long enough,” Metro Man massages his temples. “I have an interview with Roxanne in twenty minutes.”
“Wow,” Megamind sighs raggedly. “That might not even be long enough for me to get out of my pants.”
The sad thing is, he’s only half-joking. That’s the thing with skintight leather. The same problem applies to a unitard that clings to every curve of muscle--- it’s a bitch to get out of, and it’s a son of a bitch to get into. They both know that twenty minutes is barely enough time to get naked and dressed again, let alone leave any time in between for shenanigans. Metro Man collapses onto his back with a frustrated groan, and he’s pretty sure that if boners could talk, his would be cursing a blue streak right now. Either that or sobbing pitifully.
Megamind studies him, then says decisively, “The least you could do is take off your gloves.”
With raised eyebrows, Metro Man does as he’s told. Megamind takes one bare hand in his gloved ones and says with a chuckle, “I can’t remember the last time I saw these.”
Supporting the wrist, he lets the hand fall open and draws it to his face, nuzzling his cheek into the center of it. Metro Man smiles and curls his fingers slightly, cupping the elegant jawline, rubbing his thumb into the neatly-trimmed goatee.
“Hurrrr,” says Megamind.
And he nuzzles his chin enthusiastically into Metro Man’s palm, his eyes closed in contentment. The hero still has one free hand, and he reaches around to the top of Megamind’s head, amazed at how warm it is. That’s a big hit, too, and soon the villain is practically purring. It’s nice, but cuddling is not exactly what Metro Man had in mind. Besides, he wants to see some skin, too.
On a weird impulse, he says, “Take off your boots.”
“What?” The green eyes go wide and scandalized.
“I said take your boots off,” Metro Man repeats, then clarifies, “Or I’ll take them off for you.”
Cautiously, Megamind removes one black boot. He’s barefoot underneath, and his pants end just above the knob of his ankle. At Metro Man’s insistent nod, the other boot comes off, and then it’s just the two bare feet with the soles pressed together as his legs fall into the butterfly position. He wraps his hands protectively around the exposed skin, his ears flushed bright pink.
“Ta-da,” he mumbles. “There.”
Metro Man rolls himself to sit upright, then takes Megamind’s hands and absently moves them aside, replacing them with his own. The blue feet are thin and small, fitting easily in the cocoon of his hands.
“Oh,” Megamind breathes. “I’m really glad you took your gloves off first.”
“That feel good?” Metro Man wonders, and when the villain nods, he closes his grip a little tighter.
“Ah,” Megamind winces, grabbing onto the massive forearms. “Careful. They’re very--- sensitive.”
“Oh really?” Metro Man, who doesn’t feel anything when he smashes through buildings, is very intrigued. “So--- how does this feel?”
Slowly, intently, he digs his thumbs right under the balls of the feet, pressing hard enough that the toes reflexively curl under.
“Ohoho,” Megamind’s voice is half stammer, half moan. “It feels--- ah--- really good, actually.”
“What about this?”
He rakes his knuckles along the instep, and quite suddenly, Megamind is flopped on his back and gasping.
“Whoa,” says the hero. “You weren’t kidding. They are sensitive.” It’s at this moment that he gets a smirk that could almost be described as---- wicked. “I wonder...”
He brings one foot up to his mouth and kisses the heel. It shakes and spasms in his grip. He parts his lips and draws his tongue along the sole--- he can hear Megamind whimpering--- and when he reaches the big toe, he opens his mouth and pulls it inside.
“Ho-ly shish-kabobs!” Megamind yelps and slams his fists against the floor.
The words may be ridiculous, but the tone is unmistakable. Inspired, Metro Man hollows his cheeks and sucks, and when he does, Megamind’s body rises up in an arch, nothing supporting him but his head on the floor and his feet in Metro Man’s grip. When the hero relaxes the suction, Megamind tumbles back to the ground, bones reduced to jelly, words reduced to incoherent mumbling.
He doesn’t say it out loud or even acknowledge that he could have such a dirty thought, but that’s the moment when Metro Man decides that he wants to see exactly how far he can push Megamind.
His mouth seems to be his best weapon, and the toe-sucking seems to have the strongest effect, at least on this first one. Experimentally, he moves to the other four digits on the foot he’s holding. All of Megamind’s toes are as long and skinny as the rest of him. They curl away from Metro Man’s lips like moonflowers shying away from the sun, and he must coax them with tender licks until they relax and open themselves to his touch. Then he brings the second toe into his mouth and pulls deeply.
In his peripheral vision, he sees Megamind’s right hand dart down between his legs, stroking the erection that’s pressing hard against the black leather. Metro Man removes his mouth and says sharply, “No.”
“Hungh?” Megamind gasps, thoroughly flustered. “No, what?”
“Don’t touch yourself,” the hero commands. “I want to see what happens.”
“You want to see what---?” Propped up on his elbows, the villain can’t hide his disbelief. “Is this some kind of deranged science project?”
“I’m flirting with the dark side, remember?” Metro Man gives the sole of his foot a rough lick. “Consider this my mad scientist phase.”
After a skeptical pause, Megamind flops back to the floor, wiggles his toes imperiously, and says, “In the name of science--- do your worst.”
Turning his head one way and Megamind’s foot the other, Metro Man is able to slide his flat tongue into the space between the toes, wrapping them each in turn with the wet muscle. He had expected to taste salt, but remembers that Megamind does not sweat. Instead, his feet have the bittersweet taste of leather, tart and musky.
He’s nibbling a trail along the quivering arch when he looks down the length of the leg to see what kind of progress he’s making. Black-clad hands claw at the air, opening and fisting in desperate spasms, while the hips buck convulsively. From the ankles up, Megamind is a writhing mess, every joint in his body rolling like his eyes, which are so far back in his head that Metro Man can see only a crescent moon of green at the tops of the sockets. He has his bottom lip clamped between gleaming teeth, his breath steaming from his nostrils in staccato bursts.
“Let it out, baby,” Metro Man urges, biting his heel. “Lemme hear ya.”
Released from his self-imposed silence, Megamind fills the warehouse with his voice.
“Hahhh... ah! Mmmm--- Met--- Metro Man--- ohhh, yes, that’s--- unh...”
The villain’s foot is glistening with spit and mottled with bite marks by the time Metro Man sets it down in his lap. Exhausted, Megamind releases a hugh sigh, one arm flung over his eyes, his breath shuddering out of him in awestruck laughter. He thinks they’re done, but Metro Man’s not even close to it yet. He’s just switching feet.
“Ohhhh shingles!” Megamind yelps. “Oh man oh man ohhhhh maaaaan....”
“That’s right,” the hero murmurs against the sweet swelling of his ankle. “Who’s the man?”
The answer is almost a shriek: “Metro Man!”
Megamind looks almost like he’s about to take flight, his chest thrust up from his arched back, his arms outstretched, taut and trembling. His head rocks back and forth, the muscles in his straining neck showing long and tight under the pale blue flesh. He keeps jamming his knuckles in his mouth to silence himself, then remembering that he’s not supposed to and yanking his hand away to release a fresh stream of sound. Metro Man has never known someone to be so noisy. Megamind’s theatrical personality seems to carry over into all aspects of his life, because he howls and moans with reckless abandon, his words dissolving before he can even finish saying them.
“That feels--- that feels sooo-ho-ho-hahhhhh--- nnnnn, that’s--- Met--- Me-heh-het-tro Mannnnn--- unhhhh---”
Megamind’s foot is so small and slender. Boldly, Metro Man pulls as much of it into his mouth as he can--- he fits all five toes and enough of the rest that his bottom teeth close right into the mound of the ball of the foot. He bites down and sucks vigorously, jamming his tongue into the dip between the big toe and the rest. Megamind lifts and slams his head back into the floor, his hips jerking wildly into the air as he comes with a scream of:
“Motherfucker!”
In the hilariously awkward silence that falls immediately afterwards, Metro Man chuckles faintly, “Whoa...!”
Megamind slaps his hands over his eyes and groans in embarrassment.
“Never knew you had that mouth on you, little buddy.”
“You seem to forget,” the villain pants, rolling onto his side and giving him a sheepish smile, “I was raised in a prison.”
“Yeah, I guess--- I guess you’d pick up some habits in there.”
“I can also make a shiv out of a toothbrush.”
“How practical.”
Sprawled out on his side in a graceful curve, Megamind looks almost exactly like a cat that’s found the perfect ray of sunshine to take a nap in. His head is pillowed on the outstretched arm underneath, his eyes half-lidded in satisfaction. In Metro Man’s lap, the little blue feet are twitching contentedly, the toes alternately stretching and relaxing. The hero gives them a fond pat.
“Did you know that was gonna happen?” he wonders.
“I had no idea,” Megamind admits loudly, then in a quieter voice he adds, “Uh, no one’s ever, you know, touched me there. Before. So, yeah. That was a first.”
His wriggling toes finally brush up against Metro Man’s hard-on, and both of them pop their eyes wide open at the contact.
“Oh!” Megamind giggles. “Hello, there!”
“Sorry about that,” Metro Man says automatically, because he’s been trained to apologize when he’s embarrassed.
“Hey, you wanna take your boots off?” the villain offers with a leer that should not normally accompany such an innocent sentence.
“Nah, I don’t think---” Metro Man sighs. “I don’t think that’ll work on me.”
“Mr. Impervious,” Megamind nods. “We’ll see about that.”
Then he rolls his hips along the floor, scooting himself that much closer so that he has a bit more slack in his legs, a bit more room to maneuver. He props himself up on his elbows again, cracks his neck, and cracks his toes, one by one. Then he lowers both feet between Metro Man’s legs and gets to work.
“Whoa, whoa!” Metro Man splutters as sensation washes up through him. “That is--- that’s--- whoa.”
“I thought so.”
Megamind’s feet are flexible and nearly as dexterous as a pair of hands. They curve into the perfect bowed shape for the job, connecting at the heels so that their warmth and pressure wraps all the way around the bulge in the front of those tights. He slides them up and down, his thighs tense with the effort, his eyes on Metro Man’s face, watching the hero watch him. Metro Man had been sitting with his legs crossed--- now he unfolds them and opens them wide, drops his hands to the floor behind him and leans back, offering himself completely. Megamind alternates his feet, massaging first with the left, then the right. He’s holding back, still, and the hero senses it.
“Harder,” he demands.
“Are you sure?” the villain frets. “I don’t want to---”
“You can’t hurt me.”
At those words, Megamind digs in with his heels, and for the first time in his life Metro Man throws back his head and moans.
“Ohhh,” Megamind purrs from the floor. “I like the sound of that.”
He drags one treacherous arch along the hero’s straining erection, his other foot flexed with the toes pulled back into a bow that he slides under Metro Man’s balls, stroking them like a violinist drawing music from his instrument of choice. The extraordinary sensitivity of his feet is well-suited to this task. Every twitch of Metro Man’s cock is answered immediately with pressure. His pulse must be throbbing straight into those tender soles, and the hero looks down the length of the lithe little body to Megamind’s face, sees the tip of his bright pink tongue poking out from between his teeth in concentration. He wants it to be as good for Metro Man as it was for him, and his determination to please is just as arousing as his ability to do so.
Because, God, Megamind is definitely able to please. Breathlessness is still foreign to Metro Man, so when he starts to really gasp for air, he knows it can only mean one thing. He rocks his hips up to meet those genius little feet and Megamind complies by pressing even harder, his own hips rising off the ground as he drops his weight into his legs. It’s when he brings the knuckle of his big toe right up along the center of the hero’s cock--- that does it. Climax breaks over Metro Man like a wave, his body shaking, his head snapping back with the mouth gaping wide open and the eyes squeezed shut.
His senses return to him slowly, and he feels so good and drowsy that he lets himself drift down to the floor until he’s lying on his back, staring up through the hole in the ceiling to the clouds beyond. Their legs are still entwined, and when Megamind absently flexes one foot, his toenails draw a tingly path along Metro Man’s inner thigh.
“That was awesome,” Metro Man sighs happily.
“Totally,” Megamind sighs back.
At the same moment, they both sit up and yell, “What time is it?”
“How should I know?” Metro Man gestures frantically. “You’re the one who wears a watch!”
“Oh, doy!” Megamind smacks his own forehead, then turns up his wrist and says, “You’ve got two minutes and counting before you lose your flawlessly punctual reputation.”
The hero leaps to his feet, then immediately sinks into an awkward crouch with a wince of “Eww.”
Megamind laughs delightedly and squirms around on the floor.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha HAAAA ha!” He points and mocks. “I get to go home and change! You get to sit through an hour-long interview feeling like a used cone-dome!”
“Yes, it would seem that Evil’s lack of a publicity schedule has its advantages,” the hero admits, still grimacing. “And now Justice has to book it or he’s gonna look mighty suspicious.”
The villain clambers to his feet, hugging one arm to his chest as he demurs, “So, uh... can we do this again sometime?”
Every fiber in Metro Man’s heroic being is commanding him to say no. He shouldn’t. He can’t. It’s the stupidest, craziest, most reckless thing he could possibly---
“Don’t blow up any more warehouses,” he says. “I’ll find you. And next time,” he swaggers a few steps closer. “I’m clearing my schedule.”
“Promise?” Megamind smiles eagerly.
“I promise.”
Now they’re standing face to face, and Megamind is looking up at him with those devastating green eyes. Metro Man’s unstoppable heart gives an uncharacteristic lurch. He shuffles awkwardly, unsure of how to say goodbye.
“Oh, hang on there, Justice!” Megamind says. “You’ve got something on your costume.”
He’s pointing at the center of the M logo. When Metro Man ducks his head down to look, it brings him low enough for Megamind to hop up onto his toes and kiss him right on the mouth. He bolts away just as quickly as he bolted in, shy, but Metro Man catches the back of his neck and draws him back for one more. Megamind’s body shifts lazily in his arms, and the hero opens his eyes just enough to see that one blue foot has popped up from the ground, the toes curling in delight.
“Remember,” Megamind breathes into him. “This will be our little secret.”
Metro Man steps back from him, winks, and says, “Gotta fly.”
He shoots up into the air, arms outstretched, enjoying, for the first time in a long time, the feeling of the wind on his face.
- - -
He arrives at 2:30pm on the dot, hovering down onto the balcony that KMCP added onto Roxanne’s office for this exact purpose. She’s waiting for him by the doors, and her serene smile assures him that she never doubted he would be on time. However, as his feet touch down, her smile fades into a look of confusion. He resists the urge to check his crotch, trusting his powerful uniform to cover him yet again.
“Um, Metro Man?” she says uncertainly.
“Yes, Roxanne?”
“Why aren’t you wearing your cape?”
Oh, crab nuggets.
He stares at her. She stares at him.
Then, as if by magic, he summons a genuine-sounding chuckle.
“I can never get that thing to look right when I’m seated,” he waves dismissively. “I didn’t want it to distract your viewers from the interview. Which,” he flashes a million-dollar smile. “I’m sure is going to be brilliant, as always.”
“Well, I don’t about you...” she teases, then gestures for him to follow her inside. “Come on, let’s get you a mic.”
She bought it. She totally bought it.
Metro Man might not be so bad at this secret-keeping thing after all.
______end.
Author: colonel_bastard
Characters/Fandom: Megamind, Metro Man, cameo from Roxanne. Megamind [dur].
Word Count: 4,734
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Metro Man discovers that Megamind's feet are... rather sensitive.
Warnings: Slash, foot play, foot worship, foot job--- basically, YES I HAVE A FOOT FETISH.
Notes: Sequel to my first Metro Man/Megamind fic, Might As Well Face It (You're Addicted to Love), in which our hero gets a little too close to our villain and maybe likes it a little too much. This was written for an exchange with the awesome tripperfunster, who drew not only ONE but TWO gorgeous pieces of foot fetishistic art for me to ogle. In return she wanted a fic with first-time toe-sucking! And she gets that--- AND MORE. FEET FEET FEET THEY ARE SO SEXY. :D Costume troubles were inspired by this hilarious art by junosunderland, so, THANKS JUNO! Title is taken from this ridiculous song, which is sort of my official theme song for this pairing.
NOW WITH A SUPER-ROMANTIC ILLUSTRATION BY invderlava: see it RIGHT HERE!!
AND ANOTHER SMOKIN' HOT ILLUSTRATION BY tripperfunster: YOU KNOW YOU WANT IT.
AND A TOTALLY ADORABLE ILLUSTRATION BY pocketfriend: BEHOLD THE CUTE.
Explosions bloom on the horizon and Metro Man races to meet them. He doesn’t even know what’s going on--- he was in the middle of preparing for his latest interview with Roxanne for her special Metro City: Home of a Hero--- just that there’s something happening that probably shouldn’t be and he already knows who’s probably responsible. He cuts through the air like a bullet, aiming for the plumes of smoke that are already being snatched away by the wind. They’re rising from the very tip of the peninsula that makes up the warehouse district. Typical. Well, there’s one thing to be said for Megamind’s predictability--- at least he tends to choose places that are fairly secluded. It minimizes the number of civilian casualties--- in fact, Metro Man can’t remember there ever being a single one--- and it’s always an unexpectedly considerate gesture from the villain.
He notices a smoking hole in one warehouse roof, the edges of it still glowing with new embers. Always one for a dramatic entrance, Metro Man ignores the existing opening and makes one of his own, smashing down to the concrete floor in a shower of rubble. His eyes adjust instantly to the relatively dim interior of the building, and he immediately spots a skinny black-clad figure coughing and fanning at the dusty air.
“Cheese and rice!” Megamind splutters, and apparently this is his idea of cursing. “What was wrong with the entrance I made for you?”
“Justice can never follow a path laid out by Evil!” Metro Man announces. “Now where’s Roxanne, you fiend?”
“She’s, uh,” Those huge green eyes dart about self-consciously. “She’s not... here.”
“Where are you keeping her?”
“I’m not! I mean, I haven’t. I didn’t. She’s not involved. Not this time.”
Metro Man squints at him with great suspicion. Then he scans the warehouse with his super-vision for any sign of skullduggery. To his great confusion, he sees absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. No hostages, no more bombs, no spikes, no flamethrowers--- there isn’t even any sign of Minion and an escape vehicle. There’s just Megamind, his hoverbike, and the remains of the single harmless explosion that was used to lure in the hero.
“Is this a trick?” Metro Man wonders slowly.
“No trick,” Megamind shrugs. “I just wanted to see you.”
“So you blew up a warehouse?”
Megamind rolls his eyes and crosses his arms peevishly. “Well I couldn’t exactly page your beeper, could I?”
“What’s going on here?” The hero has backed up so that he’s smack underneath one of the holes in the ceiling, his knees already bent for take-off. “What do you want?”
It’s funny, but Megamind’s expression leading up to this moment could have almost been described as.... expectant. Now it falls into one of incredulity, his jaw going slack, his eyes bulging in outrage.
“What do you mean what do I want? What do you want?”
“What do you mean what do I want?” Metro Man hisses. “Are you crazy?”
Megamind slouches dejectedly, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout, his gaze hooded in a champion sulk.
“Fine. Be that way.”
“Be what way.”
“Go on! I can see you want to!” Now Megamind gestures wildly at the two impromptu skylights. “Fly away, pretty bird! No one’s keeping you here!”
“Listen,” Metro Man huffs. “I may have just about every awesome power imaginable, but unfortunately, telepathy is not one of them.”
“I would assume you at least have a certain level of, I don’t know, short-term memory?”
Megamind shrieks on the last word, and Metro Man can see that he’s genuinely upset. It suddenly dawns on him why. As much as he’s tried to pretend that it never happened, the truth is that the last time they were in a warehouse together, they were grinding each other senseless against the nearest pillar.
“Oh,” he mumbles.
“Oh,” repeats Megamind with a sneer. “Oh, he says.”
“Look, little buddy,” Metro Man squirms uncomfortably. “That was a mistake.”
The sneer vanishes. Megamind says blankly, “A mistake?”
“Uh, yeah,” the hero laughs, trying to make it sound obvious. “A huge mistake. The kind of mistake that, you know, never gets mentioned again. For everyone’s sake.”
Then, so quietly that he wouldn’t be able to hear it if it weren’t for his supernatural senses, he catches Megamind’s whisper of, “I thought... you liked it.”
Metro Man’s guts churn in a weird and unfamiliar way. Before he can stop himself he’s taken a few quick steps towards the villain, halting just in time to prevent his foolish arms from embracing him. Desperate to distract his hands before they reach out, he scratches the back of his neck. With both hands. Which, of course, looks really stupid. Megamind raises an eyebrow at his behavior.
“Uh,” Metro Man says helplessly.
“Uh...?” Megamind prompts.
His heavy arms drop to his sides. “I did like it.”
Megamind makes a giddy nonsense sound that might be transcribed as “eeheehee” and attempts to throw his arms around Metro Man’s neck. The hero catches his wrists and draws them out and up so that now he looks like he’s making a victory gesture that would usually be accompanied by a “whoop whoop” sound effect.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Metro Man says hastily. “I liked it, but---”
“But, what?” Megamind tries unsuccessfully to free himself. “Aren’t pleasurable acts intended to be repeated as often as possible?”
Oh, God, Metro Man can feel himself physically responding to that suggestion, his hips inclining towards the other as if they have a mind of their own. Megamind notices. He’s clever like that. Since his hands are pinioned, he reaches out with one booted foot, draws the toe along the inside of the hero’s leg, from ankle to upper thigh. Before he can reach any higher, Metro Man lifts him clean off the ground, leaving his dangerous feet dangling below him.
“I can’t,” he sighs harshly.
“Why not?”
“Because,” he mutters. “I’m the good guy.”
“And I’m the baaaaaad guy,” Megamind attempts to sound seductive. “So it’s okay for you to give in. This will be a thrilling chapter in your serialized life story one day. Metro Man’s flirtation with the dark side! I can just see it!”
“Don’t get excited,” Metro Man insists, though he’s talking to himself more than his companion.
Megamind is now swinging from his wrists, attempting to hook his feet around Metro Man’s waist. He’s not having much luck.
“Oh, pleeeease,” he whines. “I liked it. You liked it. I don’t see what the problem is!”
“I have a reputation to uphold!” the hero declares. “What would the people of Metro City think of me?”
“Honey,” Megamind snorts. “They don’t have to know.”
This is an option that has honestly never occurred to the hero. He’s lived almost his entire life in the public eye. Secrets? He’s never had a secret beyond his civilian identity, which hardly counts considering he’s spent a majority of his life as Metro Man. He never thought he was allowed to have privacy. The idea is so shocking and novel that he opens his hands, releasing the unprepared Megamind, who drops to the floor in a heap and a squawk of, “Ow, my perfect blue ass!”
“They don’t have to know...” Metro Man echoes, his voice full of wonder.
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Megamind grins, and snagging his foot around the back of the hero’s ankle, he gives it a significant tug. “Come down here. The view is amazing.”
Metro Man sinks to his knees between Megamind’s spread legs. The villain shakes his head--- not close enough!--- and reaches up to grab the collar of the hero’s costume, yanking him down so that their bodies are flush against each other. Megamind wriggles tantalizingly, and although he had planned to talk this out a little bit, maybe set some ground rules, Metro Man ends up kissing his arch-nemesis as stupidly and senselessly as he did the first time. The villain doesn’t seem to mind.
Last time was a blur. This time--- this time, they can take their time. There’s no rush, no fumble to a messy climax. Megamind works his jaw slowly, luxuriously, coaxing Metro Man into a slow, sensual rhythm. Now they can explore each other, and they do so with gusto. Hands trace ribcages and backs, hips and buttocks, feeling and stroking and coming to an understanding. Megamind is so, so much sturdier than he looks--- Metro Man relishes the fact that he can wrap one of his massive hands almost entirely around one of those slender thighs and squeeze, and rather than a hiss of pain, he’s rewarded with a hiss of pleasure.
Metro Man was nineteen when he dislocated his girlfriend’s shoulder. That was the last time he let himself get so close.
“I want to see more of you,” Megamind gasps against his ear. “I want to see your skin.”
They sit up, unclasping and tossing their capes aside. Then they both hesitate. As horny as they both are, there’s a simple logistical problem.
“How much... time do we have?” Megamind asks.
“Not long enough,” Metro Man massages his temples. “I have an interview with Roxanne in twenty minutes.”
“Wow,” Megamind sighs raggedly. “That might not even be long enough for me to get out of my pants.”
The sad thing is, he’s only half-joking. That’s the thing with skintight leather. The same problem applies to a unitard that clings to every curve of muscle--- it’s a bitch to get out of, and it’s a son of a bitch to get into. They both know that twenty minutes is barely enough time to get naked and dressed again, let alone leave any time in between for shenanigans. Metro Man collapses onto his back with a frustrated groan, and he’s pretty sure that if boners could talk, his would be cursing a blue streak right now. Either that or sobbing pitifully.
Megamind studies him, then says decisively, “The least you could do is take off your gloves.”
With raised eyebrows, Metro Man does as he’s told. Megamind takes one bare hand in his gloved ones and says with a chuckle, “I can’t remember the last time I saw these.”
Supporting the wrist, he lets the hand fall open and draws it to his face, nuzzling his cheek into the center of it. Metro Man smiles and curls his fingers slightly, cupping the elegant jawline, rubbing his thumb into the neatly-trimmed goatee.
“Hurrrr,” says Megamind.
And he nuzzles his chin enthusiastically into Metro Man’s palm, his eyes closed in contentment. The hero still has one free hand, and he reaches around to the top of Megamind’s head, amazed at how warm it is. That’s a big hit, too, and soon the villain is practically purring. It’s nice, but cuddling is not exactly what Metro Man had in mind. Besides, he wants to see some skin, too.
On a weird impulse, he says, “Take off your boots.”
“What?” The green eyes go wide and scandalized.
“I said take your boots off,” Metro Man repeats, then clarifies, “Or I’ll take them off for you.”
Cautiously, Megamind removes one black boot. He’s barefoot underneath, and his pants end just above the knob of his ankle. At Metro Man’s insistent nod, the other boot comes off, and then it’s just the two bare feet with the soles pressed together as his legs fall into the butterfly position. He wraps his hands protectively around the exposed skin, his ears flushed bright pink.
“Ta-da,” he mumbles. “There.”
Metro Man rolls himself to sit upright, then takes Megamind’s hands and absently moves them aside, replacing them with his own. The blue feet are thin and small, fitting easily in the cocoon of his hands.
“Oh,” Megamind breathes. “I’m really glad you took your gloves off first.”
“That feel good?” Metro Man wonders, and when the villain nods, he closes his grip a little tighter.
“Ah,” Megamind winces, grabbing onto the massive forearms. “Careful. They’re very--- sensitive.”
“Oh really?” Metro Man, who doesn’t feel anything when he smashes through buildings, is very intrigued. “So--- how does this feel?”
Slowly, intently, he digs his thumbs right under the balls of the feet, pressing hard enough that the toes reflexively curl under.
“Ohoho,” Megamind’s voice is half stammer, half moan. “It feels--- ah--- really good, actually.”
“What about this?”
He rakes his knuckles along the instep, and quite suddenly, Megamind is flopped on his back and gasping.
“Whoa,” says the hero. “You weren’t kidding. They are sensitive.” It’s at this moment that he gets a smirk that could almost be described as---- wicked. “I wonder...”
He brings one foot up to his mouth and kisses the heel. It shakes and spasms in his grip. He parts his lips and draws his tongue along the sole--- he can hear Megamind whimpering--- and when he reaches the big toe, he opens his mouth and pulls it inside.
“Ho-ly shish-kabobs!” Megamind yelps and slams his fists against the floor.
The words may be ridiculous, but the tone is unmistakable. Inspired, Metro Man hollows his cheeks and sucks, and when he does, Megamind’s body rises up in an arch, nothing supporting him but his head on the floor and his feet in Metro Man’s grip. When the hero relaxes the suction, Megamind tumbles back to the ground, bones reduced to jelly, words reduced to incoherent mumbling.
He doesn’t say it out loud or even acknowledge that he could have such a dirty thought, but that’s the moment when Metro Man decides that he wants to see exactly how far he can push Megamind.
His mouth seems to be his best weapon, and the toe-sucking seems to have the strongest effect, at least on this first one. Experimentally, he moves to the other four digits on the foot he’s holding. All of Megamind’s toes are as long and skinny as the rest of him. They curl away from Metro Man’s lips like moonflowers shying away from the sun, and he must coax them with tender licks until they relax and open themselves to his touch. Then he brings the second toe into his mouth and pulls deeply.
In his peripheral vision, he sees Megamind’s right hand dart down between his legs, stroking the erection that’s pressing hard against the black leather. Metro Man removes his mouth and says sharply, “No.”
“Hungh?” Megamind gasps, thoroughly flustered. “No, what?”
“Don’t touch yourself,” the hero commands. “I want to see what happens.”
“You want to see what---?” Propped up on his elbows, the villain can’t hide his disbelief. “Is this some kind of deranged science project?”
“I’m flirting with the dark side, remember?” Metro Man gives the sole of his foot a rough lick. “Consider this my mad scientist phase.”
After a skeptical pause, Megamind flops back to the floor, wiggles his toes imperiously, and says, “In the name of science--- do your worst.”
Turning his head one way and Megamind’s foot the other, Metro Man is able to slide his flat tongue into the space between the toes, wrapping them each in turn with the wet muscle. He had expected to taste salt, but remembers that Megamind does not sweat. Instead, his feet have the bittersweet taste of leather, tart and musky.
He’s nibbling a trail along the quivering arch when he looks down the length of the leg to see what kind of progress he’s making. Black-clad hands claw at the air, opening and fisting in desperate spasms, while the hips buck convulsively. From the ankles up, Megamind is a writhing mess, every joint in his body rolling like his eyes, which are so far back in his head that Metro Man can see only a crescent moon of green at the tops of the sockets. He has his bottom lip clamped between gleaming teeth, his breath steaming from his nostrils in staccato bursts.
“Let it out, baby,” Metro Man urges, biting his heel. “Lemme hear ya.”
Released from his self-imposed silence, Megamind fills the warehouse with his voice.
“Hahhh... ah! Mmmm--- Met--- Metro Man--- ohhh, yes, that’s--- unh...”
The villain’s foot is glistening with spit and mottled with bite marks by the time Metro Man sets it down in his lap. Exhausted, Megamind releases a hugh sigh, one arm flung over his eyes, his breath shuddering out of him in awestruck laughter. He thinks they’re done, but Metro Man’s not even close to it yet. He’s just switching feet.
“Ohhhh shingles!” Megamind yelps. “Oh man oh man ohhhhh maaaaan....”
“That’s right,” the hero murmurs against the sweet swelling of his ankle. “Who’s the man?”
The answer is almost a shriek: “Metro Man!”
Megamind looks almost like he’s about to take flight, his chest thrust up from his arched back, his arms outstretched, taut and trembling. His head rocks back and forth, the muscles in his straining neck showing long and tight under the pale blue flesh. He keeps jamming his knuckles in his mouth to silence himself, then remembering that he’s not supposed to and yanking his hand away to release a fresh stream of sound. Metro Man has never known someone to be so noisy. Megamind’s theatrical personality seems to carry over into all aspects of his life, because he howls and moans with reckless abandon, his words dissolving before he can even finish saying them.
“That feels--- that feels sooo-ho-ho-hahhhhh--- nnnnn, that’s--- Met--- Me-heh-het-tro Mannnnn--- unhhhh---”
Megamind’s foot is so small and slender. Boldly, Metro Man pulls as much of it into his mouth as he can--- he fits all five toes and enough of the rest that his bottom teeth close right into the mound of the ball of the foot. He bites down and sucks vigorously, jamming his tongue into the dip between the big toe and the rest. Megamind lifts and slams his head back into the floor, his hips jerking wildly into the air as he comes with a scream of:
“Motherfucker!”
In the hilariously awkward silence that falls immediately afterwards, Metro Man chuckles faintly, “Whoa...!”
Megamind slaps his hands over his eyes and groans in embarrassment.
“Never knew you had that mouth on you, little buddy.”
“You seem to forget,” the villain pants, rolling onto his side and giving him a sheepish smile, “I was raised in a prison.”
“Yeah, I guess--- I guess you’d pick up some habits in there.”
“I can also make a shiv out of a toothbrush.”
“How practical.”
Sprawled out on his side in a graceful curve, Megamind looks almost exactly like a cat that’s found the perfect ray of sunshine to take a nap in. His head is pillowed on the outstretched arm underneath, his eyes half-lidded in satisfaction. In Metro Man’s lap, the little blue feet are twitching contentedly, the toes alternately stretching and relaxing. The hero gives them a fond pat.
“Did you know that was gonna happen?” he wonders.
“I had no idea,” Megamind admits loudly, then in a quieter voice he adds, “Uh, no one’s ever, you know, touched me there. Before. So, yeah. That was a first.”
His wriggling toes finally brush up against Metro Man’s hard-on, and both of them pop their eyes wide open at the contact.
“Oh!” Megamind giggles. “Hello, there!”
“Sorry about that,” Metro Man says automatically, because he’s been trained to apologize when he’s embarrassed.
“Hey, you wanna take your boots off?” the villain offers with a leer that should not normally accompany such an innocent sentence.
“Nah, I don’t think---” Metro Man sighs. “I don’t think that’ll work on me.”
“Mr. Impervious,” Megamind nods. “We’ll see about that.”
Then he rolls his hips along the floor, scooting himself that much closer so that he has a bit more slack in his legs, a bit more room to maneuver. He props himself up on his elbows again, cracks his neck, and cracks his toes, one by one. Then he lowers both feet between Metro Man’s legs and gets to work.
“Whoa, whoa!” Metro Man splutters as sensation washes up through him. “That is--- that’s--- whoa.”
“I thought so.”
Megamind’s feet are flexible and nearly as dexterous as a pair of hands. They curve into the perfect bowed shape for the job, connecting at the heels so that their warmth and pressure wraps all the way around the bulge in the front of those tights. He slides them up and down, his thighs tense with the effort, his eyes on Metro Man’s face, watching the hero watch him. Metro Man had been sitting with his legs crossed--- now he unfolds them and opens them wide, drops his hands to the floor behind him and leans back, offering himself completely. Megamind alternates his feet, massaging first with the left, then the right. He’s holding back, still, and the hero senses it.
“Harder,” he demands.
“Are you sure?” the villain frets. “I don’t want to---”
“You can’t hurt me.”
At those words, Megamind digs in with his heels, and for the first time in his life Metro Man throws back his head and moans.
“Ohhh,” Megamind purrs from the floor. “I like the sound of that.”
He drags one treacherous arch along the hero’s straining erection, his other foot flexed with the toes pulled back into a bow that he slides under Metro Man’s balls, stroking them like a violinist drawing music from his instrument of choice. The extraordinary sensitivity of his feet is well-suited to this task. Every twitch of Metro Man’s cock is answered immediately with pressure. His pulse must be throbbing straight into those tender soles, and the hero looks down the length of the lithe little body to Megamind’s face, sees the tip of his bright pink tongue poking out from between his teeth in concentration. He wants it to be as good for Metro Man as it was for him, and his determination to please is just as arousing as his ability to do so.
Because, God, Megamind is definitely able to please. Breathlessness is still foreign to Metro Man, so when he starts to really gasp for air, he knows it can only mean one thing. He rocks his hips up to meet those genius little feet and Megamind complies by pressing even harder, his own hips rising off the ground as he drops his weight into his legs. It’s when he brings the knuckle of his big toe right up along the center of the hero’s cock--- that does it. Climax breaks over Metro Man like a wave, his body shaking, his head snapping back with the mouth gaping wide open and the eyes squeezed shut.
His senses return to him slowly, and he feels so good and drowsy that he lets himself drift down to the floor until he’s lying on his back, staring up through the hole in the ceiling to the clouds beyond. Their legs are still entwined, and when Megamind absently flexes one foot, his toenails draw a tingly path along Metro Man’s inner thigh.
“That was awesome,” Metro Man sighs happily.
“Totally,” Megamind sighs back.
At the same moment, they both sit up and yell, “What time is it?”
“How should I know?” Metro Man gestures frantically. “You’re the one who wears a watch!”
“Oh, doy!” Megamind smacks his own forehead, then turns up his wrist and says, “You’ve got two minutes and counting before you lose your flawlessly punctual reputation.”
The hero leaps to his feet, then immediately sinks into an awkward crouch with a wince of “Eww.”
Megamind laughs delightedly and squirms around on the floor.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha HAAAA ha!” He points and mocks. “I get to go home and change! You get to sit through an hour-long interview feeling like a used cone-dome!”
“Yes, it would seem that Evil’s lack of a publicity schedule has its advantages,” the hero admits, still grimacing. “And now Justice has to book it or he’s gonna look mighty suspicious.”
The villain clambers to his feet, hugging one arm to his chest as he demurs, “So, uh... can we do this again sometime?”
Every fiber in Metro Man’s heroic being is commanding him to say no. He shouldn’t. He can’t. It’s the stupidest, craziest, most reckless thing he could possibly---
“Don’t blow up any more warehouses,” he says. “I’ll find you. And next time,” he swaggers a few steps closer. “I’m clearing my schedule.”
“Promise?” Megamind smiles eagerly.
“I promise.”
Now they’re standing face to face, and Megamind is looking up at him with those devastating green eyes. Metro Man’s unstoppable heart gives an uncharacteristic lurch. He shuffles awkwardly, unsure of how to say goodbye.
“Oh, hang on there, Justice!” Megamind says. “You’ve got something on your costume.”
He’s pointing at the center of the M logo. When Metro Man ducks his head down to look, it brings him low enough for Megamind to hop up onto his toes and kiss him right on the mouth. He bolts away just as quickly as he bolted in, shy, but Metro Man catches the back of his neck and draws him back for one more. Megamind’s body shifts lazily in his arms, and the hero opens his eyes just enough to see that one blue foot has popped up from the ground, the toes curling in delight.
“Remember,” Megamind breathes into him. “This will be our little secret.”
Metro Man steps back from him, winks, and says, “Gotta fly.”
He shoots up into the air, arms outstretched, enjoying, for the first time in a long time, the feeling of the wind on his face.
- - -
He arrives at 2:30pm on the dot, hovering down onto the balcony that KMCP added onto Roxanne’s office for this exact purpose. She’s waiting for him by the doors, and her serene smile assures him that she never doubted he would be on time. However, as his feet touch down, her smile fades into a look of confusion. He resists the urge to check his crotch, trusting his powerful uniform to cover him yet again.
“Um, Metro Man?” she says uncertainly.
“Yes, Roxanne?”
“Why aren’t you wearing your cape?”
Oh, crab nuggets.
He stares at her. She stares at him.
Then, as if by magic, he summons a genuine-sounding chuckle.
“I can never get that thing to look right when I’m seated,” he waves dismissively. “I didn’t want it to distract your viewers from the interview. Which,” he flashes a million-dollar smile. “I’m sure is going to be brilliant, as always.”
“Well, I don’t about you...” she teases, then gestures for him to follow her inside. “Come on, let’s get you a mic.”
She bought it. She totally bought it.
Metro Man might not be so bad at this secret-keeping thing after all.
______end.