New Fic - Sanctuary
Title: Waiting on a Rainy Day
Author: Kedd
Summary: As the storm neared, reaching overhead, Nikola became more intensely aware of the power, of the raindrops, of all the sensations, until he felt as though he merely had to stretch out his hands and he would be able grasp all the energy cascading through the air and channel it, bend it to his will.
Rating: Mature
Notes: Written for the sfa_pornbattle prompt: Nikola Tesla - caught in a rainstorm.
1886 -- Oxford, England
He’d been feeling particularly irritable all day, even snapping at Helen, who’d had the grace to ignore him with nary a sideways gaze. Since the injection of the source blood a few short days ago, they had all been making allowances for his moods, but he was usually able to keep himself in check around Helen. Lovely, intelligent Helen, who was helping him develop a replacement for the blood his body craved, and was the least deserving victim of his sharp tongue. Mid-afternoon Nikola had decided to leave the laboratory before the others kicked him out, and had donned his hat and overcoat to stroll around the grounds of Oxford. The air was humid, the sky overcast, and as he leaned against an oak and scowled at a scuff on his shoe, Nikola felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
The crack still took him by surprise, and it seemed he wasn’t alone. All around the quadrangle, scholars were craning their necks at the sky, suddenly turned dark with roiling, heaving clouds. The smart quickly gathered their belongings and headed for the nearest doors. The foolish tried to finish their work and play, wanting to see who would score that final goal. Nikola stood still, his eyes fixated on the darkening sky, waiting for the first drops to fall. While it frequently rained in London, it rarely did so with the ferocity that he was accustomed to from his youth.
“You had better head in, mate,” a rushing passerby called, drawing Nikola’s gaze from the heavens, “It looks like it’s going to be a wicked one.”
Nikola nodded his thanks, but didn’t move from his spot leaning against the sturdy trunk. He could feel the power building, the uneasy currents meeting in the air, playing across his senses like invisible waves, building up to a steady discordant hum along his nerves. The first heavy drops began to fall, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the hum evened out. The thunder cracked again, and the rain hit the ground more solidly, making its way through even the rustling leaves of the oak tree to drop onto his hat and shoulders.
The wind began to pick up, and Nikola removed his hat, holding it securely in one hand, as he moved out from under the tree allowing the raindrops to delicately slap against his cheeks, the cool water running in tiny streams down his face. It wasn’t enough to distract him from the feeling that was building beneath his skin, however, a growing wave of power, dancing along his nerves, sending tingling caresses throughout his body. He forgot to breathe, standing there letting it build, feeling the gentle surges where he least expected it. Just when it reached a point where he wasn’t sure if he could bear it any further, where he wasn’t sure if it was pleasurable or painful, it crested and a bolt of lightening struck the ground in the distance.
He sighed in relief, before realizing the sensation hadn’t dissipated completely -- there it was in the background, a low hum once again. His hair was plastered against his head, now, and he could feel water trickling down his collar, soaking through his waistcoat. The coolness felt good against his overheated skin, and he closed his eyes to better focus on the sensations around him, in him. There was the harsh clap of thunder, nearer now, and the hum swelled in response. As the power began to build again, Nikola realized that he was reacting viscerally to the storm, his cock pressing against his cotton pants, his now soaked wool trousers lying heavily against it. The tingling was moving throughout his body, and he had to suppress a moan -- it felt like thousands of invisible fingers were caressing him, fleetingly, while a vibration hummed through him. It built until it felt like his teeth were about to start clattering against each other, and then collapsed as the lightening struck.
As the storm neared, reaching overhead, Nikola became more intensely aware of the power, of the raindrops, of all the sensations, of his hardened cock. With each surge of energy, he moved closer to the edge of release, desperately trying to resist the urge to reach for his cock, settling for shifting his hips and letting the friction of his clothes provide extra stimulation. The wind whipped his overcoat around him, the rain pounded against his upturned face, and the jangling, harsh surges of power reached for him -- from the sky, from the ground, until Nikola felt as though he merely had to stretch out his hands and he would be able grasp all the energy cascading through the air, through the earth, and channel it, take that immense power, wildly swelling around him, and control it, master it, bend it to his will. He moaned, imagining the ecstasy that would bring, and felt a crackle around his fingertips.
The sharp crack of thunder drew his attention back out to the storm, and to his astonishment, there were small bluish sparks dancing around his fingertips, and more gathering around his feet. He couldn’t help but trail his fingers down his chest, shivering with the tingling sensations they left behind; then he felt it roiling up, the largest surge yet. His head thrown back to the sky, his arms extended to his sides, and his hips arching forward, Nikola let the power flood over him, through him, into him. He felt the energy build in every cell of his body, raging through him in an uncontrollable onslaught, felt his blood respond with savage delight, felt every sensation heightened as his nerve-endings awoke from decades of slumber. The cool drops on his face, catching on his eyelashes, following the curves of his cheekbones. The warm tingling around his fingertips, the faint crackling when energy sparked from the ground reaching for his hands. The texture of his silk shirt, the smooth way it brushed across his hardened nipples, the faint tugging where it was damply stuck to his upper chest. The slightly rough, damp pressure against his cock, the friction with every movement, no matter how slight, against the head causing the tingling to centre low down in his abdomen, fiery fingers trailing up the inside of his thighs and curling around the base of his cock and his balls. And as the lightening arched down from the sky, Nikola cried out, energy channeling from the ground through him to meet its counterpart, and as the power crested, so did he, ecstasy running through him as strongly as the electricity.
And just as the low hum of energy faded into the background, his arousal became replaced by a lassitude, a feeling of satiation and complete relaxation. Opening his eyes, Nikola could see the sky was considerably less dark, the clouds making their way into the distance while he stood, dripping with water and other fluids, at the edge of the quadrangle.
He’d never wish for a sunny day again.
End.
Author: Kedd
Summary: As the storm neared, reaching overhead, Nikola became more intensely aware of the power, of the raindrops, of all the sensations, until he felt as though he merely had to stretch out his hands and he would be able grasp all the energy cascading through the air and channel it, bend it to his will.
Rating: Mature
Notes: Written for the sfa_pornbattle prompt: Nikola Tesla - caught in a rainstorm.
1886 -- Oxford, England
He’d been feeling particularly irritable all day, even snapping at Helen, who’d had the grace to ignore him with nary a sideways gaze. Since the injection of the source blood a few short days ago, they had all been making allowances for his moods, but he was usually able to keep himself in check around Helen. Lovely, intelligent Helen, who was helping him develop a replacement for the blood his body craved, and was the least deserving victim of his sharp tongue. Mid-afternoon Nikola had decided to leave the laboratory before the others kicked him out, and had donned his hat and overcoat to stroll around the grounds of Oxford. The air was humid, the sky overcast, and as he leaned against an oak and scowled at a scuff on his shoe, Nikola felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
The crack still took him by surprise, and it seemed he wasn’t alone. All around the quadrangle, scholars were craning their necks at the sky, suddenly turned dark with roiling, heaving clouds. The smart quickly gathered their belongings and headed for the nearest doors. The foolish tried to finish their work and play, wanting to see who would score that final goal. Nikola stood still, his eyes fixated on the darkening sky, waiting for the first drops to fall. While it frequently rained in London, it rarely did so with the ferocity that he was accustomed to from his youth.
“You had better head in, mate,” a rushing passerby called, drawing Nikola’s gaze from the heavens, “It looks like it’s going to be a wicked one.”
Nikola nodded his thanks, but didn’t move from his spot leaning against the sturdy trunk. He could feel the power building, the uneasy currents meeting in the air, playing across his senses like invisible waves, building up to a steady discordant hum along his nerves. The first heavy drops began to fall, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the hum evened out. The thunder cracked again, and the rain hit the ground more solidly, making its way through even the rustling leaves of the oak tree to drop onto his hat and shoulders.
The wind began to pick up, and Nikola removed his hat, holding it securely in one hand, as he moved out from under the tree allowing the raindrops to delicately slap against his cheeks, the cool water running in tiny streams down his face. It wasn’t enough to distract him from the feeling that was building beneath his skin, however, a growing wave of power, dancing along his nerves, sending tingling caresses throughout his body. He forgot to breathe, standing there letting it build, feeling the gentle surges where he least expected it. Just when it reached a point where he wasn’t sure if he could bear it any further, where he wasn’t sure if it was pleasurable or painful, it crested and a bolt of lightening struck the ground in the distance.
He sighed in relief, before realizing the sensation hadn’t dissipated completely -- there it was in the background, a low hum once again. His hair was plastered against his head, now, and he could feel water trickling down his collar, soaking through his waistcoat. The coolness felt good against his overheated skin, and he closed his eyes to better focus on the sensations around him, in him. There was the harsh clap of thunder, nearer now, and the hum swelled in response. As the power began to build again, Nikola realized that he was reacting viscerally to the storm, his cock pressing against his cotton pants, his now soaked wool trousers lying heavily against it. The tingling was moving throughout his body, and he had to suppress a moan -- it felt like thousands of invisible fingers were caressing him, fleetingly, while a vibration hummed through him. It built until it felt like his teeth were about to start clattering against each other, and then collapsed as the lightening struck.
As the storm neared, reaching overhead, Nikola became more intensely aware of the power, of the raindrops, of all the sensations, of his hardened cock. With each surge of energy, he moved closer to the edge of release, desperately trying to resist the urge to reach for his cock, settling for shifting his hips and letting the friction of his clothes provide extra stimulation. The wind whipped his overcoat around him, the rain pounded against his upturned face, and the jangling, harsh surges of power reached for him -- from the sky, from the ground, until Nikola felt as though he merely had to stretch out his hands and he would be able grasp all the energy cascading through the air, through the earth, and channel it, take that immense power, wildly swelling around him, and control it, master it, bend it to his will. He moaned, imagining the ecstasy that would bring, and felt a crackle around his fingertips.
The sharp crack of thunder drew his attention back out to the storm, and to his astonishment, there were small bluish sparks dancing around his fingertips, and more gathering around his feet. He couldn’t help but trail his fingers down his chest, shivering with the tingling sensations they left behind; then he felt it roiling up, the largest surge yet. His head thrown back to the sky, his arms extended to his sides, and his hips arching forward, Nikola let the power flood over him, through him, into him. He felt the energy build in every cell of his body, raging through him in an uncontrollable onslaught, felt his blood respond with savage delight, felt every sensation heightened as his nerve-endings awoke from decades of slumber. The cool drops on his face, catching on his eyelashes, following the curves of his cheekbones. The warm tingling around his fingertips, the faint crackling when energy sparked from the ground reaching for his hands. The texture of his silk shirt, the smooth way it brushed across his hardened nipples, the faint tugging where it was damply stuck to his upper chest. The slightly rough, damp pressure against his cock, the friction with every movement, no matter how slight, against the head causing the tingling to centre low down in his abdomen, fiery fingers trailing up the inside of his thighs and curling around the base of his cock and his balls. And as the lightening arched down from the sky, Nikola cried out, energy channeling from the ground through him to meet its counterpart, and as the power crested, so did he, ecstasy running through him as strongly as the electricity.
And just as the low hum of energy faded into the background, his arousal became replaced by a lassitude, a feeling of satiation and complete relaxation. Opening his eyes, Nikola could see the sky was considerably less dark, the clouds making their way into the distance while he stood, dripping with water and other fluids, at the edge of the quadrangle.
He’d never wish for a sunny day again.
End.