FIC: Beauty Marks - 1/1, Pacific Rim, NC17, Chuck/Raleigh
Title: Beauty Marks
Author: Jo (jo@fadedink.com)
Fandom: Pacific Rim
Pairing: Chuck Hansen/Raleigh Becket
Rating: NC17
Word count: 2290
Summary: Chuck needs things and Raleigh knows what they are.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters; I'm just playing with them for a bit. Eternal love to Guillermo del Toro and Travis Beacham for creating this world.
Author's Notes: My PacRim Secret Santa gift for my boo, happyinthesilence. She deserves all the good things ever and I was ecstatic when I got her name as my assignment. Luckily, she'd already given me some ideas in the past, so I just took a few and smushed them together. Merry Christmas, baby!!!!
There have been times in Raleigh's life when he wasn't entirely sure he wasn't doing the right thing. However, this thing with Chuck is not one of those times.
In fact, nothing in Raleigh's life has ever felt more right.
You're beautiful like this, he tells Chuck and laughs softly when Chuck's answering growl drops to a whimper. It's so easy to push his buttons and his reactions are sometimes so predictable that Raleigh can't help himself.
And Chuck really is beautiful right now - skin flushed and slick with sweat, head bowed and hair matted to his skull, wrists snugly fastened with one of Raleigh's belt, and deep red-purple marks dotting each vertebrae from his nape to the small of his back. Those marks are courtesy of Raleigh, and he's proud of every one of them.
He's most proud, though, of the one that sits between Chuck's hairline and where his shirt collar will rest. That one's going to be visible for days with no way outside of a scarf or turtleneck to hide it.
And Raleigh can't help the smug feeling that sweeps over him at the fact that everyone is going to see it.
Chuck's whine snaps his attention back to the present.
Fuck, please... he hears Chuck say, his voice muffled as he presses his face against his biceps. And with that, Raleigh takes another moment to study Chuck. The entire line of his body, from bound wrists to knees firmly planted on the mattress, is tense, so tense that his muscles tremble.
Raleigh smoothes a hand down Chuck's spine and his fingertips linger over a few of the more intense marks. Tell me, he says, leaning in to croon the words in Chuck's ear. What is it you need, baby?
Chuck whimpers at the epithet, his entire body shuddering hard as he tugs once, twice at the belt before going still once more. You...
You already have me is all Raleigh says, but he's already easing slick fingers into Chuck, stretching him as Chuck fights to keep from pushing back, body vibrating with need. And Raleigh takes his time prepping Chuck, sucking another dark mark into the upper curve of one ass cheek, leaving a bite mark along the bottom of his ribcage, fingernails scraping over freckled skin as Chuck hisses through his teeth and curses Raleigh not quite under his breath.
It just serves to make Raleigh laugh.
Thought you said you could be a good boy, he reminds Chuck as he adds a third finger and rubs over his prostate.
Chuck snarls fuck off before he makes a noise deep in his throat, hips bucking at the new stimulation. There are times when he needs this - needs to be restrained and held down and just taken - but he'll never admit it. And he'll never ask. And Raleigh knows this, just as he knows the signs when all the pressure starts to become too much.
He also knows when he's pushed far enough and Chuck is dancing on the very edge. And when Chuck reaches that point, Raleigh slows things down a notch.
Pulling his fingers free, he curls over Chuck's back, breathes softly in his ear. Then, before Chuck can protest, Raleigh pushes in with one smooth, slow thrust. He doesn't stop until he bottoms out and Chuck's spine is arched, his head thrown back as he gasps. And with Chuck's breath coming in short, sharp pants, Raleigh starts to move.
You like that and fuck, feel so good, baby, slip from his tongue as he sets a hard pace. Chuck is too far gone to respond with actual words, but he moans and makes noises, grunting quietly each time he yanks against the belt (which is at least every other thrust). Raleigh relishes each one of those sounds.
Before long, Chuck's knees give out and his body flattens to the mattress. Raleigh follows him, fingers clutching at lean hips, pausing only long enough to adjust to their new position: Chuck stretched out on his stomach, wrists still fastened to the headboard, and Raleigh stretched out along his back, arms curved along Chuck's to lace their fingers together, legs shifted so his thighs bracket Chuck's to hold him firmly in place.
It's exactly how Chuck likes it on nights like this. He loves to have Raleigh surround him and hold him down so that he can't move and fuck him hard and fast. But as much as Chuck loves it, Raleigh loves even more being able to give it to him.
So it's brutal and rough and they're both going to feel it in the morning, but Chuck urges him on, begging for moreharderfaster before he comes with a sharp cry that sounds a lot like Raleigh's name. Raleigh follows a few thrusts later, forehead pressed to the back of Chuck's neck as Chuck sighs his name again.
Later, when they're curled together in a sated, half-asleep pile, Raleigh will press a soft kiss to that mark on Chuck's nape and Chuck will shiver and let out a soft whine.
*
Two days later, they have yet another interview. It's been a year, but everyone still wants to talk to the Heroes of the Breach.
Chuck is one of those heroes, though he bitches about it every time Herc orders him to talk to the press. Raleigh finds that bitching strangely endearing. It's just more proof that Chuck didn't become a Jaeger pilot for the fortune and fame (not that there had ever been a fortune involved until after it was all over, and the fame had been fickle when the tide of the war had turned and pilots had started dying).
But Chuck goes along and they seat him between Mako and Raleigh. That's something they learned during the whirlwind press tour that the three had embarked on after Medical had first cleared them all for active duty: if you give Chuck an opening, he's going to take it. And that includes bolting at the first opportunity if he's seated on the outside of the group.
So now he sits in the middle.
He doesn't speak much, preferring to let Raleigh and Mako do the talking, simply because as far as he's concerned, it's over and done. He did his job, just like the rest of the PPDC, and the war is over. They won. Now it's time to move on and rebuild.
But today the reporter is particularly obnoxious. Questions are asked about Stacker Pentecost. Questions directed at first Mako as his adopted daughter and then to Chuck as his last co-pilot. Mako shakes her head and politely declines to answer those questions. Chuck starts to growl out an answer before Raleigh steps in and redirects.
The redirection is less than successful.
The reporter focuses on the relationship between Chuck and Raleigh. It's no longer a secret and hasn't been for a few months, thanks to tabloid journalism, unrelenting paparazzi, and a few photos of the two of them together on vacation in Mauritius. But Raleigh refuses to let the world know the details, so he just confirms that they're involved.
Chuck, though, lets the reporter know that he's being a complete and utter dickhead (a snarled phrase that no doubt has Herc doing an epic facepalm back at the Shatterdome as he watches). He's never suffered fools, and he's not about to start now. Especially when it involves his private life.
But instead of saying anything or attempting to rein him in, Raleigh simply drapes his arm across the back of Chuck's chair and drags his fingertips hard over the bruise that's still there.
It serves its purpose. Chuck shivers and goes silent and still and wide-eyed, and he remains that way for the rest of the interview.
*
Chuck has extremely sensitive thighs, a fact Raleigh discovered the third time they slept together.
It's knowledge that Raleigh exploits shamelessly. More than once, he's held Chuck down and licked and sucked and bit his way along each thigh until Chuck was breathless and squirming and pleading for release.
Tonight is no exception.
The marks down Chuck's spine are fading, so Raleigh decides he needs new ones. Less noticeable ones.
Ones that can't be seen, but Raleigh and Chuck will know they're there.
So in the midst of mutual blowjobs (the phrase you're looking for, Rals, is 69, Chuck laughed), Raleigh shifts his attention. And Chuck whines at the abrupt lack of attention to his dick. But since he's flat on his back with Raleigh on top of him, there's nowhere for him to go and no way to escape.
Raleigh is absolutely ruthless.
The first mark is placed a few inches above Chuck's knee on the top of his thigh. It makes him jerk and kick his leg, but Raleigh has a firm grip. The next mark is higher on the opposite thigh as Raleigh sucks hard to bring the blood to the surface. It's dark red and satisfying when Raleigh lifts his head to study it.
Chuck starts to whimper, the sounds muffled as he presses his face to Raleigh's groin.
Raleigh continues. He alternates thighs, varying the pressure of his bites and the strength of his suction until soft pink marks are scattered the length of Chuck's thighs, interspersed with red-purple bruises that will last for a long time.
He slips off of Chuck and between his thighs, one arm braced over his hips before Chuck can react. He's so close, fingers clawing at the sheets, head thrown back, and hips rocking up as he seeks some sort of friction. Raleigh knows the signs.
So he leans his weight into the arm across Chuck's hips and dips his head to rest his lips against the inside of Chuck's right thigh just below his groin. It is, without a doubt, one of the most - if not the most - sensitive spots on Chuck's body. Chuck knows it and Raleigh knows it, and Chuck knows what's coming.
Raleigh kisses the spot once, twice, a third time. Then he sucks lightly. And when he feels Chuck's muscles start to relax, he bites. Hard. Chuck bows up in spite of Raleigh holding him down and comes with a strangled shout.
In the morning, they laze in bed, only half paying attention to the news on the television. Raleigh lies on his back, one arm tucked behind his head as Chuck sprawls against his side. Gentle fingertips idly trace the lines of Chuck's body and Raleigh knows the exact second he hits that spot because Chuck freezes.
Smiling, Raleigh turns his head to place a soft kiss on Chuck's forehead as his fingers press into the bruise. Chuck moans low in his throat and melts against Raleigh.
It's several hours before they get out of bed.
*
Anyone who's ever piloted a Jaeger has nightmares. Raleigh is no exception and neither is Chuck.
Raleigh's nightmares are no surprise: he felt his brother die in his head and blew up an alien world. Even now, years later, he's not sure which memories are his and which are Yancy's. And his brain feels like Swiss cheese some days. Mild brain damage they'd labeled it, and called it a side effect of piloting solo twice. Raleigh accepts it as being his payment for closing the Breach.
But it doesn't stop him from waking in a cold sweat in the middle of the night and reaching for Chuck. And Chuck always comes willingly to curl around Raleigh and offer warmth and support and soft words as he holds Raleigh close. Those nights Raleigh finds it impossible to get back to sleep. Usually, he greets the dawn to the sound of Chuck's soft snores and the feel of strong arms wrapped around him.
Chuck's nightmares are different. He had bad ones when he was younger, following his mother's death, but they stopped when he started piloting. These nightmares are nothing like those.
These are far, far worse.
Chuck died twice: once in the escape pod just before they could pry it open and get to him, and once on the operating table as they worked to stop the internal bleeding and fix the damage caused by being at what amounted to Ground Zero of the nuclear blast when Striker detonated.
His nightmares now are of that, and he can't talk about them. Not even in therapy. Raleigh's not entirely convinced that Chuck's therapist knows about the nightmares at all.
Where Raleigh wakes in a cold sweat, Chuck wakes with throat ripping screams.
The first time it happened, Raleigh woke from a sound sleep terrified out of his mind. By the time he'd settled down and was aware of exactly what was happening, Chuck was in the middle of a full blown panic attack. Neither of them had slept another wink that night.
Now though, the second Chuck bolts upright in the bed, Raleigh is awake, and by the time the first scream leaves Chuck's mouth, Raleigh's hand is on Chuck's waist, his chin on his shoulder, and he's whispering softly in Chuck's ear. It still takes several minutes to wake Chuck, but it takes less time to calm him than it once did.
That's now accomplished in minutes instead of hours.
He still cries, though, and clings to Raleigh like he's terrified that Raleigh will vanish on him.
Raleigh simply holds him and rubs his back and talks to him. He never says it's going to be okay or you're fine, but he always says I've got you, because he knows what Chuck needs to hear. And what he doesn't.
And Raleigh intends to spend the rest of his life giving Chuck everything he needs. Even when Chuck doesn't realize he needs it.
Author: Jo (jo@fadedink.com)
Fandom: Pacific Rim
Pairing: Chuck Hansen/Raleigh Becket
Rating: NC17
Word count: 2290
Summary: Chuck needs things and Raleigh knows what they are.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters; I'm just playing with them for a bit. Eternal love to Guillermo del Toro and Travis Beacham for creating this world.
Author's Notes: My PacRim Secret Santa gift for my boo, happyinthesilence. She deserves all the good things ever and I was ecstatic when I got her name as my assignment. Luckily, she'd already given me some ideas in the past, so I just took a few and smushed them together. Merry Christmas, baby!!!!
There have been times in Raleigh's life when he wasn't entirely sure he wasn't doing the right thing. However, this thing with Chuck is not one of those times.
In fact, nothing in Raleigh's life has ever felt more right.
You're beautiful like this, he tells Chuck and laughs softly when Chuck's answering growl drops to a whimper. It's so easy to push his buttons and his reactions are sometimes so predictable that Raleigh can't help himself.
And Chuck really is beautiful right now - skin flushed and slick with sweat, head bowed and hair matted to his skull, wrists snugly fastened with one of Raleigh's belt, and deep red-purple marks dotting each vertebrae from his nape to the small of his back. Those marks are courtesy of Raleigh, and he's proud of every one of them.
He's most proud, though, of the one that sits between Chuck's hairline and where his shirt collar will rest. That one's going to be visible for days with no way outside of a scarf or turtleneck to hide it.
And Raleigh can't help the smug feeling that sweeps over him at the fact that everyone is going to see it.
Chuck's whine snaps his attention back to the present.
Fuck, please... he hears Chuck say, his voice muffled as he presses his face against his biceps. And with that, Raleigh takes another moment to study Chuck. The entire line of his body, from bound wrists to knees firmly planted on the mattress, is tense, so tense that his muscles tremble.
Raleigh smoothes a hand down Chuck's spine and his fingertips linger over a few of the more intense marks. Tell me, he says, leaning in to croon the words in Chuck's ear. What is it you need, baby?
Chuck whimpers at the epithet, his entire body shuddering hard as he tugs once, twice at the belt before going still once more. You...
You already have me is all Raleigh says, but he's already easing slick fingers into Chuck, stretching him as Chuck fights to keep from pushing back, body vibrating with need. And Raleigh takes his time prepping Chuck, sucking another dark mark into the upper curve of one ass cheek, leaving a bite mark along the bottom of his ribcage, fingernails scraping over freckled skin as Chuck hisses through his teeth and curses Raleigh not quite under his breath.
It just serves to make Raleigh laugh.
Thought you said you could be a good boy, he reminds Chuck as he adds a third finger and rubs over his prostate.
Chuck snarls fuck off before he makes a noise deep in his throat, hips bucking at the new stimulation. There are times when he needs this - needs to be restrained and held down and just taken - but he'll never admit it. And he'll never ask. And Raleigh knows this, just as he knows the signs when all the pressure starts to become too much.
He also knows when he's pushed far enough and Chuck is dancing on the very edge. And when Chuck reaches that point, Raleigh slows things down a notch.
Pulling his fingers free, he curls over Chuck's back, breathes softly in his ear. Then, before Chuck can protest, Raleigh pushes in with one smooth, slow thrust. He doesn't stop until he bottoms out and Chuck's spine is arched, his head thrown back as he gasps. And with Chuck's breath coming in short, sharp pants, Raleigh starts to move.
You like that and fuck, feel so good, baby, slip from his tongue as he sets a hard pace. Chuck is too far gone to respond with actual words, but he moans and makes noises, grunting quietly each time he yanks against the belt (which is at least every other thrust). Raleigh relishes each one of those sounds.
Before long, Chuck's knees give out and his body flattens to the mattress. Raleigh follows him, fingers clutching at lean hips, pausing only long enough to adjust to their new position: Chuck stretched out on his stomach, wrists still fastened to the headboard, and Raleigh stretched out along his back, arms curved along Chuck's to lace their fingers together, legs shifted so his thighs bracket Chuck's to hold him firmly in place.
It's exactly how Chuck likes it on nights like this. He loves to have Raleigh surround him and hold him down so that he can't move and fuck him hard and fast. But as much as Chuck loves it, Raleigh loves even more being able to give it to him.
So it's brutal and rough and they're both going to feel it in the morning, but Chuck urges him on, begging for moreharderfaster before he comes with a sharp cry that sounds a lot like Raleigh's name. Raleigh follows a few thrusts later, forehead pressed to the back of Chuck's neck as Chuck sighs his name again.
Later, when they're curled together in a sated, half-asleep pile, Raleigh will press a soft kiss to that mark on Chuck's nape and Chuck will shiver and let out a soft whine.
*
Two days later, they have yet another interview. It's been a year, but everyone still wants to talk to the Heroes of the Breach.
Chuck is one of those heroes, though he bitches about it every time Herc orders him to talk to the press. Raleigh finds that bitching strangely endearing. It's just more proof that Chuck didn't become a Jaeger pilot for the fortune and fame (not that there had ever been a fortune involved until after it was all over, and the fame had been fickle when the tide of the war had turned and pilots had started dying).
But Chuck goes along and they seat him between Mako and Raleigh. That's something they learned during the whirlwind press tour that the three had embarked on after Medical had first cleared them all for active duty: if you give Chuck an opening, he's going to take it. And that includes bolting at the first opportunity if he's seated on the outside of the group.
So now he sits in the middle.
He doesn't speak much, preferring to let Raleigh and Mako do the talking, simply because as far as he's concerned, it's over and done. He did his job, just like the rest of the PPDC, and the war is over. They won. Now it's time to move on and rebuild.
But today the reporter is particularly obnoxious. Questions are asked about Stacker Pentecost. Questions directed at first Mako as his adopted daughter and then to Chuck as his last co-pilot. Mako shakes her head and politely declines to answer those questions. Chuck starts to growl out an answer before Raleigh steps in and redirects.
The redirection is less than successful.
The reporter focuses on the relationship between Chuck and Raleigh. It's no longer a secret and hasn't been for a few months, thanks to tabloid journalism, unrelenting paparazzi, and a few photos of the two of them together on vacation in Mauritius. But Raleigh refuses to let the world know the details, so he just confirms that they're involved.
Chuck, though, lets the reporter know that he's being a complete and utter dickhead (a snarled phrase that no doubt has Herc doing an epic facepalm back at the Shatterdome as he watches). He's never suffered fools, and he's not about to start now. Especially when it involves his private life.
But instead of saying anything or attempting to rein him in, Raleigh simply drapes his arm across the back of Chuck's chair and drags his fingertips hard over the bruise that's still there.
It serves its purpose. Chuck shivers and goes silent and still and wide-eyed, and he remains that way for the rest of the interview.
*
Chuck has extremely sensitive thighs, a fact Raleigh discovered the third time they slept together.
It's knowledge that Raleigh exploits shamelessly. More than once, he's held Chuck down and licked and sucked and bit his way along each thigh until Chuck was breathless and squirming and pleading for release.
Tonight is no exception.
The marks down Chuck's spine are fading, so Raleigh decides he needs new ones. Less noticeable ones.
Ones that can't be seen, but Raleigh and Chuck will know they're there.
So in the midst of mutual blowjobs (the phrase you're looking for, Rals, is 69, Chuck laughed), Raleigh shifts his attention. And Chuck whines at the abrupt lack of attention to his dick. But since he's flat on his back with Raleigh on top of him, there's nowhere for him to go and no way to escape.
Raleigh is absolutely ruthless.
The first mark is placed a few inches above Chuck's knee on the top of his thigh. It makes him jerk and kick his leg, but Raleigh has a firm grip. The next mark is higher on the opposite thigh as Raleigh sucks hard to bring the blood to the surface. It's dark red and satisfying when Raleigh lifts his head to study it.
Chuck starts to whimper, the sounds muffled as he presses his face to Raleigh's groin.
Raleigh continues. He alternates thighs, varying the pressure of his bites and the strength of his suction until soft pink marks are scattered the length of Chuck's thighs, interspersed with red-purple bruises that will last for a long time.
He slips off of Chuck and between his thighs, one arm braced over his hips before Chuck can react. He's so close, fingers clawing at the sheets, head thrown back, and hips rocking up as he seeks some sort of friction. Raleigh knows the signs.
So he leans his weight into the arm across Chuck's hips and dips his head to rest his lips against the inside of Chuck's right thigh just below his groin. It is, without a doubt, one of the most - if not the most - sensitive spots on Chuck's body. Chuck knows it and Raleigh knows it, and Chuck knows what's coming.
Raleigh kisses the spot once, twice, a third time. Then he sucks lightly. And when he feels Chuck's muscles start to relax, he bites. Hard. Chuck bows up in spite of Raleigh holding him down and comes with a strangled shout.
In the morning, they laze in bed, only half paying attention to the news on the television. Raleigh lies on his back, one arm tucked behind his head as Chuck sprawls against his side. Gentle fingertips idly trace the lines of Chuck's body and Raleigh knows the exact second he hits that spot because Chuck freezes.
Smiling, Raleigh turns his head to place a soft kiss on Chuck's forehead as his fingers press into the bruise. Chuck moans low in his throat and melts against Raleigh.
It's several hours before they get out of bed.
*
Anyone who's ever piloted a Jaeger has nightmares. Raleigh is no exception and neither is Chuck.
Raleigh's nightmares are no surprise: he felt his brother die in his head and blew up an alien world. Even now, years later, he's not sure which memories are his and which are Yancy's. And his brain feels like Swiss cheese some days. Mild brain damage they'd labeled it, and called it a side effect of piloting solo twice. Raleigh accepts it as being his payment for closing the Breach.
But it doesn't stop him from waking in a cold sweat in the middle of the night and reaching for Chuck. And Chuck always comes willingly to curl around Raleigh and offer warmth and support and soft words as he holds Raleigh close. Those nights Raleigh finds it impossible to get back to sleep. Usually, he greets the dawn to the sound of Chuck's soft snores and the feel of strong arms wrapped around him.
Chuck's nightmares are different. He had bad ones when he was younger, following his mother's death, but they stopped when he started piloting. These nightmares are nothing like those.
These are far, far worse.
Chuck died twice: once in the escape pod just before they could pry it open and get to him, and once on the operating table as they worked to stop the internal bleeding and fix the damage caused by being at what amounted to Ground Zero of the nuclear blast when Striker detonated.
His nightmares now are of that, and he can't talk about them. Not even in therapy. Raleigh's not entirely convinced that Chuck's therapist knows about the nightmares at all.
Where Raleigh wakes in a cold sweat, Chuck wakes with throat ripping screams.
The first time it happened, Raleigh woke from a sound sleep terrified out of his mind. By the time he'd settled down and was aware of exactly what was happening, Chuck was in the middle of a full blown panic attack. Neither of them had slept another wink that night.
Now though, the second Chuck bolts upright in the bed, Raleigh is awake, and by the time the first scream leaves Chuck's mouth, Raleigh's hand is on Chuck's waist, his chin on his shoulder, and he's whispering softly in Chuck's ear. It still takes several minutes to wake Chuck, but it takes less time to calm him than it once did.
That's now accomplished in minutes instead of hours.
He still cries, though, and clings to Raleigh like he's terrified that Raleigh will vanish on him.
Raleigh simply holds him and rubs his back and talks to him. He never says it's going to be okay or you're fine, but he always says I've got you, because he knows what Chuck needs to hear. And what he doesn't.
And Raleigh intends to spend the rest of his life giving Chuck everything he needs. Even when Chuck doesn't realize he needs it.