Black Cat Fic: "A Wet Cat" (NC-17) - Sven/Train
Title: "A Wet Cat"
Fandom: Black Cat
Characters: Sven/Train
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,534
Spoilers/Warnings: Porn, oh sweet porn...
Summary: Train was rather like a cat in his aversion to water, but he had to take baths regularly or it was impossible to live with him. It was easier to distract him if they bathed together, not to mention more fun.
Notes: Written for the September 17 prompt for springkink: Black Cat, Sven/Train: bathing, touching - He was rather like a cat in his aversion to water, but he had to take baths regularly or it was impossible to live with him. It was easier to distract him if they bathed together, not to mention more fun.
A Wet Cat
by Kantayra
Sven dipped the cloth back into the hot, soapy water, and slowly - almost lazily - brought it back up to scrub Train’s back. Train shifted where his elbows rested on the edge of the tub, chin atop them, and presented his bare back to Sven more fully. Train seemed to be dozing, as was often his habit in the daytime and even more when Sven stroked him, and Sven took full advantage of Train’s relaxation to outline every sharp, perfect line of muscle with the cloth.
It hadn’t always been like this. When Sven had first brought up the fact that Train’s aversion to bathing made travelling in a small, enclosed vehicle with him insufferable, Train had just smirked and decided to stick his heels in the ground. Sven knew that Train liked to play games with him sometimes; that didn’t mean that it was easier for Sven not to react to Train’s provocations.
Now, Sven didn’t even like to think about how wound up Train had gotten him…
***
“Take a bath!”
“No.”
“You smell!”
“So?” Train just glared at Sven and stretched out, sweaty and shirtless, across the floor of their inn room. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Eeny, meeny, miny, moe…” Sven weighed the pros and cons as he studied Train’s stubborn, prone form. “Catch a tiger by the-”
“Hey!” Train yelped when Sven grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him into the bathroom.
Train grabbed the edge of the bathroom doorframe and gave Sven a smug look. Sven was starting to suspect that Train’s aversion to baths might just be a new way to mess with Sven’s head.
Sven tugged.
Train smirked more.
Eve actually looked up from their book for a second, blinked at them, and then returned to the page in front of her. “You might want to-” she began.
Train let go of the doorframe.
Sven fell backwards straight into the bathtub, splashing the water inside it all over everything.
“Never mind,” Eve said.
Strangely enough, Train didn’t seem to mind getting wet at all, if it was at Sven’s expense.
Sven debated felicide…
***
Sven shuddered at the memory.
But, in the end, Sven had figured out how to make Train willing and pliant. The steam in the bath rose around them both, and Sven moved, sloshing the water in the tub about, so that he was kneeling on the tub bottom between Train’s parted legs.
The position brought them closer so that Sven could better wash Train’s back. Train reacted with a low, satisfied hum that, if Sven were inclined to be poetic, he might say sounded almost like a purr. It was hypnotic: the droplets of water and lines of suds running down Train’s back, the hot steam encircling them both and sticking to their bare skin, the deep and contented vibrations rumbling from Train’s chest, and the movement of the water in the tub as Train began to push back in response to Sven’s gentle rubbing motions.
Somehow, it was relaxing, even when Sven realized that Train’s parted ass cheeks where grinding right into Sven’s groin, and a certain part of Sven wasn’t relaxed at all in response.
Sven hesitated. Bathing together had become a necessity, as had petting Train into submission while they were naked together in the tub. This, however, was a big step over that line of necessary physical contact. Sven stopped rubbing Train’s back, just for a moment, and Train let out a hiss of complaint and ground back into Sven’s erection harder.
Sven dropped the cloth.
“Well?” Train said sleepily, and somehow it still sounded like a command.
The cloth was lost somewhere in the water and bubbles under Train. Sven very slowly reached out and rubbed a handful of soapy water into the base of Train’s spine with his bare fingers instead.
Train stretched beautifully, back arching and deadly fingers splaying, at the feel of Sven’s bare hands. So Sven touched him again. And again. Sven didn’t really know what he was doing, but it felt so good that he didn’t care. Unconsciously, Sven began to grind forward into Train’s hips, so that they rocked together in a steady rhythm.
“Well?” Train repeated a bit more impatiently when their combined movements had sent water spilling over the tub’s edge half a dozen or so times.
“What?” Sven was still mesmerized by the smooth sleekness of Train’s skin beneath his fingers and the exquisite torture of the pressure against his groin.
When Train made a little scoffing noise and pulled away, Sven felt so bereft that it suddenly slammed into him, hard and fast, what they were almost doing. What they had almost done. It wasn’t something he’d ever really let himself think about before, because Train was his partner and friend (albeit in an annoying “get me almost killed” kind of way), and the danger of-
But then Train simply flipped over, so that he was lying on his back. He folded his arms back behind where his head rested at one end of the tub and stretched again, this time slowly and deliberately. The lean muscles in his torso flexed and rippled, ever downward through the full-body stretch, until eventually he reached out with his toes, as long as he could, with one leg on either side of Sven’s waist.
When Train finished his stretch, his bent knees came up on either side of Sven, holding him in place, and Train’s ankles locked in the small of Sven’s back.
“Well,” Train insisted this time.
Sven wetted suddenly dry lips. “Well?” he barely managed to repeat with the steam and heat rushing to his brain.
Train gave him a coy smile. “You still haven’t washed my front,” he teased.
Sven didn’t know how Train had tricked him into this situation, and a part of him didn’t really care. He fingers almost shook as they reached out to rub soapy water into Train’s chest. Train’s eyes fluttered closed, and his lips parted, and he made the rumbling, humming noise again when Sven cautiously traced the XIII tattoo on Train’s chest.
It was almost a game - get Train clean - which was what allowed Sven not to over-think as he ran rivulets of water over Train’s ribs, down his stomach, and finally - finally - around Train’s cock, which was just as flushed and erect as Sven’s was.
Train gasped when Sven pulled on his cock just once, hard, and his legs tightened around Sven’s waist, rubbing Sven’s own cock between his buttocks.
And, at that point, Sven’s rational mind was gone.
Sven snapped and pulled Train harder again him, desperately sought out friction against his aching cock. Train parted for him, eager and excited, and when Sven pierced Train’s body with his fingers for the first time, Train’s muscles clenched deliberately around him once, welcoming.
Sven knew that he should be slow, careful, but his control was gone, and he was overcome with frenzy. He pushed inside Train, just a bit roughly, with nothing but the suds and water to ease his way.
Train shuddered and clutched at him, but soon began making those tantalizing little noises again. And, when Sven started to move, to thrust himself deeper and deeper, over and over again, Train moved with him, gasping at each intrusion, eyes still shut, but pleasure etched over his features. His cock was hard and heavy against Sven’s stomach, and that drove Sven even faster and wilder, water now pouring onto the floor around the tub in time to Sven’s frantic rutting into Train’s tight ass.
Sven came the same way they’d coupled - hard and fast and unexpected - and he trembled over Train’s glorious body as the pleasure washed over him and he emptied himself into Train.
Train, imperious as he could be, barely even offered Sven a moment of afterglow before he guided Sven’s hand to his impatient cock. Sven stroked Train off quickly as he slipped from Train’s body. It didn’t take Train long at all before he released into Sven’s palm, hot and sticky.
The water that remained in the tub settled as they panted and calmed down.
Then Train finally cracked open one eye to look at Sven. “Took you long enough,” he teased and stretched again, although this time he hesitated mid-stretch when he found a pleasant ache at the core of his being. “I need to be bathed again.” And he closed his eyes once more to nap through the rest of his bath.
Sven didn’t know for a moment which would win out: exasperation or bliss. But then, he reached back down into the water, found the forgotten washcloth and began stroking Train’s body all over again.
“I always get what I want, you know,” Train said with a lazy yawn.
“You eventually had to take a bath, didn’t you?” Sven retorted.
Train just smiled, and Sven was pretty sure he’d been taken in again.
“You may not smell anymore,” Sven added, “but you still snore at night.”
Train cracked open one eye curiously. “What are you going to do about it?” he challenged.
Sven grinned back. And Train was pretty sure that he’d been taken in, too.
As always, comments are most appreciated!
Fandom: Black Cat
Characters: Sven/Train
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,534
Spoilers/Warnings: Porn, oh sweet porn...
Summary: Train was rather like a cat in his aversion to water, but he had to take baths regularly or it was impossible to live with him. It was easier to distract him if they bathed together, not to mention more fun.
Notes: Written for the September 17 prompt for springkink: Black Cat, Sven/Train: bathing, touching - He was rather like a cat in his aversion to water, but he had to take baths regularly or it was impossible to live with him. It was easier to distract him if they bathed together, not to mention more fun.
A Wet Cat
by Kantayra
Sven dipped the cloth back into the hot, soapy water, and slowly - almost lazily - brought it back up to scrub Train’s back. Train shifted where his elbows rested on the edge of the tub, chin atop them, and presented his bare back to Sven more fully. Train seemed to be dozing, as was often his habit in the daytime and even more when Sven stroked him, and Sven took full advantage of Train’s relaxation to outline every sharp, perfect line of muscle with the cloth.
It hadn’t always been like this. When Sven had first brought up the fact that Train’s aversion to bathing made travelling in a small, enclosed vehicle with him insufferable, Train had just smirked and decided to stick his heels in the ground. Sven knew that Train liked to play games with him sometimes; that didn’t mean that it was easier for Sven not to react to Train’s provocations.
Now, Sven didn’t even like to think about how wound up Train had gotten him…
***
“Take a bath!”
“No.”
“You smell!”
“So?” Train just glared at Sven and stretched out, sweaty and shirtless, across the floor of their inn room. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Eeny, meeny, miny, moe…” Sven weighed the pros and cons as he studied Train’s stubborn, prone form. “Catch a tiger by the-”
“Hey!” Train yelped when Sven grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him into the bathroom.
Train grabbed the edge of the bathroom doorframe and gave Sven a smug look. Sven was starting to suspect that Train’s aversion to baths might just be a new way to mess with Sven’s head.
Sven tugged.
Train smirked more.
Eve actually looked up from their book for a second, blinked at them, and then returned to the page in front of her. “You might want to-” she began.
Train let go of the doorframe.
Sven fell backwards straight into the bathtub, splashing the water inside it all over everything.
“Never mind,” Eve said.
Strangely enough, Train didn’t seem to mind getting wet at all, if it was at Sven’s expense.
Sven debated felicide…
***
Sven shuddered at the memory.
But, in the end, Sven had figured out how to make Train willing and pliant. The steam in the bath rose around them both, and Sven moved, sloshing the water in the tub about, so that he was kneeling on the tub bottom between Train’s parted legs.
The position brought them closer so that Sven could better wash Train’s back. Train reacted with a low, satisfied hum that, if Sven were inclined to be poetic, he might say sounded almost like a purr. It was hypnotic: the droplets of water and lines of suds running down Train’s back, the hot steam encircling them both and sticking to their bare skin, the deep and contented vibrations rumbling from Train’s chest, and the movement of the water in the tub as Train began to push back in response to Sven’s gentle rubbing motions.
Somehow, it was relaxing, even when Sven realized that Train’s parted ass cheeks where grinding right into Sven’s groin, and a certain part of Sven wasn’t relaxed at all in response.
Sven hesitated. Bathing together had become a necessity, as had petting Train into submission while they were naked together in the tub. This, however, was a big step over that line of necessary physical contact. Sven stopped rubbing Train’s back, just for a moment, and Train let out a hiss of complaint and ground back into Sven’s erection harder.
Sven dropped the cloth.
“Well?” Train said sleepily, and somehow it still sounded like a command.
The cloth was lost somewhere in the water and bubbles under Train. Sven very slowly reached out and rubbed a handful of soapy water into the base of Train’s spine with his bare fingers instead.
Train stretched beautifully, back arching and deadly fingers splaying, at the feel of Sven’s bare hands. So Sven touched him again. And again. Sven didn’t really know what he was doing, but it felt so good that he didn’t care. Unconsciously, Sven began to grind forward into Train’s hips, so that they rocked together in a steady rhythm.
“Well?” Train repeated a bit more impatiently when their combined movements had sent water spilling over the tub’s edge half a dozen or so times.
“What?” Sven was still mesmerized by the smooth sleekness of Train’s skin beneath his fingers and the exquisite torture of the pressure against his groin.
When Train made a little scoffing noise and pulled away, Sven felt so bereft that it suddenly slammed into him, hard and fast, what they were almost doing. What they had almost done. It wasn’t something he’d ever really let himself think about before, because Train was his partner and friend (albeit in an annoying “get me almost killed” kind of way), and the danger of-
But then Train simply flipped over, so that he was lying on his back. He folded his arms back behind where his head rested at one end of the tub and stretched again, this time slowly and deliberately. The lean muscles in his torso flexed and rippled, ever downward through the full-body stretch, until eventually he reached out with his toes, as long as he could, with one leg on either side of Sven’s waist.
When Train finished his stretch, his bent knees came up on either side of Sven, holding him in place, and Train’s ankles locked in the small of Sven’s back.
“Well,” Train insisted this time.
Sven wetted suddenly dry lips. “Well?” he barely managed to repeat with the steam and heat rushing to his brain.
Train gave him a coy smile. “You still haven’t washed my front,” he teased.
Sven didn’t know how Train had tricked him into this situation, and a part of him didn’t really care. He fingers almost shook as they reached out to rub soapy water into Train’s chest. Train’s eyes fluttered closed, and his lips parted, and he made the rumbling, humming noise again when Sven cautiously traced the XIII tattoo on Train’s chest.
It was almost a game - get Train clean - which was what allowed Sven not to over-think as he ran rivulets of water over Train’s ribs, down his stomach, and finally - finally - around Train’s cock, which was just as flushed and erect as Sven’s was.
Train gasped when Sven pulled on his cock just once, hard, and his legs tightened around Sven’s waist, rubbing Sven’s own cock between his buttocks.
And, at that point, Sven’s rational mind was gone.
Sven snapped and pulled Train harder again him, desperately sought out friction against his aching cock. Train parted for him, eager and excited, and when Sven pierced Train’s body with his fingers for the first time, Train’s muscles clenched deliberately around him once, welcoming.
Sven knew that he should be slow, careful, but his control was gone, and he was overcome with frenzy. He pushed inside Train, just a bit roughly, with nothing but the suds and water to ease his way.
Train shuddered and clutched at him, but soon began making those tantalizing little noises again. And, when Sven started to move, to thrust himself deeper and deeper, over and over again, Train moved with him, gasping at each intrusion, eyes still shut, but pleasure etched over his features. His cock was hard and heavy against Sven’s stomach, and that drove Sven even faster and wilder, water now pouring onto the floor around the tub in time to Sven’s frantic rutting into Train’s tight ass.
Sven came the same way they’d coupled - hard and fast and unexpected - and he trembled over Train’s glorious body as the pleasure washed over him and he emptied himself into Train.
Train, imperious as he could be, barely even offered Sven a moment of afterglow before he guided Sven’s hand to his impatient cock. Sven stroked Train off quickly as he slipped from Train’s body. It didn’t take Train long at all before he released into Sven’s palm, hot and sticky.
The water that remained in the tub settled as they panted and calmed down.
Then Train finally cracked open one eye to look at Sven. “Took you long enough,” he teased and stretched again, although this time he hesitated mid-stretch when he found a pleasant ache at the core of his being. “I need to be bathed again.” And he closed his eyes once more to nap through the rest of his bath.
Sven didn’t know for a moment which would win out: exasperation or bliss. But then, he reached back down into the water, found the forgotten washcloth and began stroking Train’s body all over again.
“I always get what I want, you know,” Train said with a lazy yawn.
“You eventually had to take a bath, didn’t you?” Sven retorted.
Train just smiled, and Sven was pretty sure he’d been taken in again.
“You may not smell anymore,” Sven added, “but you still snore at night.”
Train cracked open one eye curiously. “What are you going to do about it?” he challenged.
Sven grinned back. And Train was pretty sure that he’d been taken in, too.
As always, comments are most appreciated!