Comfort
Title: Comfort
Author: Garneteve
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Carson/Michael
Word Count:
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I only lay claim to the $120 worth of photos and autographs that I got from Melbourne.
Author's Notes:I'd like to thank the wonderful echelon_ga_l for the inspiration to write this fic.
Summary: Michael and Carson share a moment of unusual comfort.
Warning: None
NOTE: In the interests of keeping everything together, I've posted both pics here with the story. These pics are from the talented echelon_ga_l, without whom, you'd never get this wonderful pairing!
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The smooth, smooth skin beneath his fingers was like the solo of a piano on a quiet Sunday morning. Not even the tell-tale body hair of another male, of another human, marred the slow path of discovery.
The body of his lover was smooth as his own lips, as he caressed the musky skin of his lovers’ arm, tasting like day old sweat and even older muskiness of their surroundings.
Sharp scratches trailed down his chest, from his lovers’ fingernails, so unnaturally sharp and so alien in the difference from his past lovers. It sent shivers down Carsons’ frame, to know how his lover was so gentle, but that there was a dangerous lilt to the soft pants that echoed in his ear from behind.
The gentle caresses from a lover who had fought only hours before was a sweet relief for Carson, one that warmed his heart as he remembered the way his lover went still in rage, staring down their attackers.
The long black coat flaring out as his lover spun and fought and attacked in the typical Wraith style. Carson had seen it many times before in the practice rooms, many times before he came to be with Michael. Michael was always the victor in the simulated battles here in the Wraith Hive. The uncontested champion of his brethren.
It was something else entirely to see his lover, the one who was always so gentle with him, spin on his heal, stalking towards their enemy, ensuring that he was between the threat and Carson at all times.
His mouth bared in an angry snarl, teeth glinting in the bluish light as his lovers’ deep voice echoed in distaste around the room, protecting Carson from the evilness that would have threatened him otherwise, that would have taken him away from his beloved.
Carson would secretly long for these moments where he would see his lovers’ true self, the lust and need soaking his system until he was a mass of exposed nerves waiting for Michaels’ dangerous touch to sate him.
From the gentle fingertip touches with the tantalizingly sharp nails, to the sensation of Michael scenting his flesh, mouth partly open, huffing his breath out in hunger. The palm of his lovers’ hand twitching, the feeding gills pinching his vulnerable flesh, leaving small trails of clear fluid in its wake even as Michael fought his natural urge to feed upon Carson.
Carson was helpless to do anything but stay in his lovers’ arms, becoming nothing more than a plaything until Michael saw fit to end their game.
Until Michael had sated his own need, claimed and marked Carson as his, the feeling and need in their bodies, would drive them to fever pitch, both tumbling down in the haze of orgasm and comfort.
Together, knowing that none of the Lanteans could tear them apart, the closeness that these moments always ended in, was comfort enough for them both.