Fic: Beads
Title: Beads
Author:jennamcquaid
Rating: NC17
Warnings: mention of het sex, slight d/s notions
Pairing/Characters: Steve/UFC (undisclosed female character, see AN for info on that), Jon Dorenbos
Wordcount: 690
Disclaimer: This story is not true, completly made up and also utter fiction!
Summary: written for the kinky_kane prompt: The slim braids in Steve's hair remind him who he belongs to, the beads a teaser for what she's got planned for him next time he's home
Authors Note: The original prompt asked for a specific young lady, but I decided to keep it rather open and leave out the one part at the end where the name is mentioned in the version posted here as I´m not sure everybody likes that pairing. If you want to know what pairing I - and the prompter - had in mind check out the original prompt.
“So you decided to become a full-fledged hippie now?”
Steve looked up from where he was tuning his guitar, shooting Jon a confused look until the other man twirled his finger near his head explaining “The hair…”
“Oh…” Steve raised a hand to one of the small braids his hair was decorated with, the tug bringing back memories of slim fingers curled in it, gripping it, using it to position his head - his mouth, his lips, his tongue - just the way she´d wanted him.
“I was at my parents over the weekend and mum was watching the neighbor´s kid…” The lie slipped from his lips easily enough and Jon gave him a sympathetic nod before turning towards the guy at the mixing table.
Steve didn´t pay them any attention, his mind occupied with memories from 2 nights ago.
He could still feel her hands all over his body, knew he still had crescent-shaped bruises on his chest where her nails had dug into it as she rode him hard, taking what she needed from him.
He remembered the feeling of her body clenching down around him, the sound of the wordless cry that had fallen from her lips as she came for the third time that night ringing loudly in his ears, followed by a soft whisper as she´d - finally - given him permission to come as well.
He remembered the way she had curled up on his chest, running her hands up and down his sides and brushing through his hair again and again, her own curls tickling his skin, murmuring sweet nothings until he´d fallen asleep, still buried inside her.
He´d woken up a couple of hours later, his head cradled in her lap as she´d carefully combed her fingers through his hair, separating small strands before skillfully braiding them, tying them together with the small, brightly colored beads.
She´d noticed the exact moment he´d woken up - she always did - placing a finger to his lips to tell him to stay still. Only once she´d been done with his hair did she lean over him, her lips brushing against his ear as she´d whispered “Let´s play a game Stevie. When you come back to me next week I´m gonna count all those pretty beads. For everyone that´s still in place you´ll be allowed to come once over the long weekend ahead of us. For every braid that´s loose however, you´ll have to fulfill one of my wishes.”
A shudder of anticipation had made his body tremble and for a second he´d thought about pointing out that he would always do anything she´d ask of him, braided hair or not. But she hadn´t given him permission to talk so he´d just nodded his head once and she´d smiled as she´d kissed him slow and thoroughly, leaving his head spinning with the lack of oxygen.
She had driven him to the airport later that day and as she´d hugged him goodbye she had whispered to him again, slim fingers playing with one of the small braids. “And don´t even think of cheating. I´ll know…”
A very real tug on his hair brought Steve back to the recording studio. Jon was sitting beside him, inspecting one of the braids, a grin on his face as he pointed out “You really have to learn how to say no to little girls…”
Steve didn´t comment, just turned his head, prompting the small braid to fall from the other man´s hand. But that caused the red bead that had held it together to slip free and clatter to the floor.
“Sorry…” Jon looked genuine apologetic as he bent down to pick it up.
Steve took it with a “no worries man” and dropped it into his guitar case where he already kept the two he´d found on his pillow this morning and the one that had come loose in the shower last night.
He took one last look at them - red, blue, purple and orange - before bringing his attention back to his guitar, his friend and the work they had to do.
5 more days till he´d be home again, till he´d be with her again.