FAKE: Living Dangerously, NC-17
Summary: Sometimes, Dee just wants to push his limits.
Notes: Another one from the Olympic kink meme on springkink, this one for a prompt of "bondage and gunplay." On looking back, I'm not sure this is the kind of gun play the prompter had in mind. Oops?
LIVING DANGEROUSLY
*
Dee had just kicked off his shoes when he felt a gun pressed against his back, and a quiet, "Don't move."
Despite the whispered order, Dee let his bag of groceries slip to the floor, then raised his hands slowly, just enough to prove he wasn't trying to reach for his own gun. He received another jab of the gun barrel against his back, and a slightly louder, "Don't move."
"I'm not!"
"Good."
The pressure moved away from his back, and Dee breathed again -- even if he was pretty sure no finger was on the trigger, it wasn't like it was safe to be playing like this. Then he felt his gun pulled out from where it was tucked at the back of his belt, heard the gentle sound of it being put down somewhere, and then cool steel against his neck, moving up to rest his ear. He swallowed hard.
"Forward." Not whispering any more, and yeah, it was Ryo. Which should mean he could relax, they'd set this up, discussed this. Except they hadn't discussed Ryo lurking behind his apartment door with a fucking gun. Dee tried to glance over his shoulder, but the gun pressed harder beneath his ear, and Ryo said, "Dee."
Dee expected the push onto his bed: that fit what Ryo was doing here. He wasn't expecting the cuffs already in place, attached to his bed, and how long had Ryo been here? He half-heartedly struggled against them anyway, checking how well they were attached. Not bad. And these weren't standard-issue: Ryo must've gone somewhere to get them.
"You're not paying attention," Ryo said, startling Dee back from his momentary day-dream of Ryo in a sex shop, picking this shit out. Dee blinked, and realized that Ryo was naked. Shy Ryo -- who still had the gun in his hand, tracing it down across Dee's chest, sensation too sharp for being felt through his shirt. Then Ryo smiled down at him, that soft warm smile that made Dee melt, and whispered, "Don't move." And pointed the gun right at his head. And started unbuttoning Dee's shirt with his other hand.
Shirt. Belt. Pants undone, and Jesus if Ryo had warned him he wouldn't have worn the stupid smiley-face boxers. But Ryo ignored the boxers, tugging them off with the pants and tossing them to the floor. Then the gun came down again, resting against his belly, and he wasn't supposed to be this hard, not tied up, not with Ryo kneeling between his legs and Ryo's gun warming against his skin.
"Do you want this?" Ryo asked, more thoughtful than really questioning. The gun traced little circles, almost but not quite touching Dee's dick.
Dee opened his mouth to say no, not really, the gun is-- and then Ryo slid the gun down alongside Dee's dick, over the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, up to press ever so slightly behind his balls, and his eyes slid closed, and what came out was, "Fuck -- god, please, you, not that, you--"
He wasn't sure if Ryo really laughed or if he just imagined it. Didn't matter. The gun vanished, and he actually whimpered, except then it was replaced by Ryo between his legs, Ryo prepping him roughly with lube from someplace, Ryo himself sliding into him and fucking him hard, not the gun but Ryo.
Afterwards, when Ryo had undone the cuffs and cleaned him off, Dee cracked an eye open to look around. What had Ryo used for the gun? He hadn't exactly been paying close attention.
The only gun in the room was Ryo's police issue, sitting on the night stand next to the lube, almost innocent. Dee stared at it for a minute, then sighed and went to sleep. He'd talk to Ryo. Maybe. Some time when he hadn't come his brains out.
-end-
Notes: Another one from the Olympic kink meme on springkink, this one for a prompt of "bondage and gunplay." On looking back, I'm not sure this is the kind of gun play the prompter had in mind. Oops?
LIVING DANGEROUSLY
*
Dee had just kicked off his shoes when he felt a gun pressed against his back, and a quiet, "Don't move."
Despite the whispered order, Dee let his bag of groceries slip to the floor, then raised his hands slowly, just enough to prove he wasn't trying to reach for his own gun. He received another jab of the gun barrel against his back, and a slightly louder, "Don't move."
"I'm not!"
"Good."
The pressure moved away from his back, and Dee breathed again -- even if he was pretty sure no finger was on the trigger, it wasn't like it was safe to be playing like this. Then he felt his gun pulled out from where it was tucked at the back of his belt, heard the gentle sound of it being put down somewhere, and then cool steel against his neck, moving up to rest his ear. He swallowed hard.
"Forward." Not whispering any more, and yeah, it was Ryo. Which should mean he could relax, they'd set this up, discussed this. Except they hadn't discussed Ryo lurking behind his apartment door with a fucking gun. Dee tried to glance over his shoulder, but the gun pressed harder beneath his ear, and Ryo said, "Dee."
Dee expected the push onto his bed: that fit what Ryo was doing here. He wasn't expecting the cuffs already in place, attached to his bed, and how long had Ryo been here? He half-heartedly struggled against them anyway, checking how well they were attached. Not bad. And these weren't standard-issue: Ryo must've gone somewhere to get them.
"You're not paying attention," Ryo said, startling Dee back from his momentary day-dream of Ryo in a sex shop, picking this shit out. Dee blinked, and realized that Ryo was naked. Shy Ryo -- who still had the gun in his hand, tracing it down across Dee's chest, sensation too sharp for being felt through his shirt. Then Ryo smiled down at him, that soft warm smile that made Dee melt, and whispered, "Don't move." And pointed the gun right at his head. And started unbuttoning Dee's shirt with his other hand.
Shirt. Belt. Pants undone, and Jesus if Ryo had warned him he wouldn't have worn the stupid smiley-face boxers. But Ryo ignored the boxers, tugging them off with the pants and tossing them to the floor. Then the gun came down again, resting against his belly, and he wasn't supposed to be this hard, not tied up, not with Ryo kneeling between his legs and Ryo's gun warming against his skin.
"Do you want this?" Ryo asked, more thoughtful than really questioning. The gun traced little circles, almost but not quite touching Dee's dick.
Dee opened his mouth to say no, not really, the gun is-- and then Ryo slid the gun down alongside Dee's dick, over the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, up to press ever so slightly behind his balls, and his eyes slid closed, and what came out was, "Fuck -- god, please, you, not that, you--"
He wasn't sure if Ryo really laughed or if he just imagined it. Didn't matter. The gun vanished, and he actually whimpered, except then it was replaced by Ryo between his legs, Ryo prepping him roughly with lube from someplace, Ryo himself sliding into him and fucking him hard, not the gun but Ryo.
Afterwards, when Ryo had undone the cuffs and cleaned him off, Dee cracked an eye open to look around. What had Ryo used for the gun? He hadn't exactly been paying close attention.
The only gun in the room was Ryo's police issue, sitting on the night stand next to the lube, almost innocent. Dee stared at it for a minute, then sighed and went to sleep. He'd talk to Ryo. Maybe. Some time when he hadn't come his brains out.
-end-