Fic: Spies Do It Better 4 of 25
Title: Spies Do It Better
Author: rufferto and kitty_trio
Fandom: Bourne Supremacy
Characters: Jason Bourne/Kirill
Prompt: #4 Dinner
Word Count: 3735
Rating: NC-17, Slash
Disclaimer: It’s Fiction! Never happened. All lies from troubled minds. We do not own Jason, Kirill or any characters from the Bourne universe. Other characters are figments of vivid imaginations, any similarity to persons real or fictitious is merely incidental. No money made from this fantasy.
Author's Notes: Two young guns in spy school will not only learn to become lovers and assassins, but 'do it' against a backdrop of fluffy snags along the way.
This came from Karl’s comments about a running joke on the set that Kirill shot Jason’s girlfriend in Goa because the two had a ‘thing’ whilst in spy school together. Written for the 25fluffyfics Challenge.
Click button for our Fluffy Table:
Banner manip as always, made lovingly by rufferto
Prompt 4: Dinner
Jason considers the concoction he was stirring together with perplexity. Now where was that tin of salt? He knew it was around here SOMEWHERE. Just need a teaspoon for the biscuits. Or so the package said. He hoped it said teaspoon, anyway.
Percy eyes the antics on the countertop. Rubs against this other human is not resulting in tuna or milk refills. She eyes the distance from the chair to the counter. Backing to the very edge, her little rear wriggling in preparation, she makes the leap. A cloud of white explodes when she lands squarely in the soft pile next to the giant-sized milk bowl.
Jason exclaims very rudely as he hears the backdoor to the apartment open. He picks up the flour coated kitten and stomps over to Kirill. Cursing, he shoves the flailing cat at Kirill. Percy hooks onto Kirill's shirt and Jason storms back to the kitchen, hair covered in flour as he attempts to make sense of the billowing cloud that has resulted.
Sweaty from his run, Kirill doesn’t get more than one foot in the door when he receives an armful of dusty kitten. Bourne then storms off, colorful curses and more dust wafting behind him. Extracting the now white beast from his shirt and chest is proving difficult while he toes off his shoes. Instead he cuddles her closer and warily follows the trail of white. Lips twitching, a snort escapes as he surveys the aftermath. “Feed first, told you.”
"Had to get them done!" Jason raises his hands in the air in exasperation. The oven dings and he rushes to stop the first batch from being ruined. "Whew." He sighs in relief as he takes them out and puts them high above the cloud near the table, immediately throwing a cover over them. Also warming is some cooked ham that is (thankfully) wrapped in foil and baked potatoes. Unfortunately, the nicely laid out table is all covered in flour now. Jason sighs looking at it and rubs his face, resulting in white streaks.
His eyes dancing in amusement, Kirill pulls up the bottom of his t-shirt twisting the cotton and anchoring the fold beneath one armpit. This makes a nice pouch for the still fretting kitten. Leaving Bourne to his mess, he deftly maneuvers around the scowling American. Tin of kitten food, milk, saucer and fork are juggled to one relatively clean space. Percy begins settling down now that she hears and feels the steady beat of her dark savior’s heart. A good washing will have to wait as she eyes the preparation of her supper.
Jason grumpily cleans up the mess, lamenting the loss of most of the biscuit mix though he is able to save enough for one more batch. Sighing at the table he puts all the dishes into the sink and is thankful for whoever invented dishwashers. A few moments later he has a mop out for the floor though he himself is still covered in flour and cursing in a very colorful manner.
Kirill wriggles with Percy as he works. Each time she wiggles one way in her make-shift pouch, he counteracts with a shift of his upper body or elbows to nudge her back to the center. An expanse of bare flesh is visible beneath the active bundle, striped with runnels of sweat through the dusting of flour. Passing Jason who’s wielding the mop like he’s about the beat the floury mess to death, Kirill plucks it from his hands. “Vacuum first.” Having no hands or arms available, he uses a hip to nudge the flour-streaked man toward the closet.
Jason grumbles again at being shoved unceremoniously to vacuum the room. He fumbles a bit turning it on, muttering. "You didn't just spend two hours cooking." He starts vacuuming, still irritated.
Placing the kitten and her meal out of the way near the beds, Kirill strips his floury pasty shirt off. His lips have been quirking and eyes glittering with amusement that elevates as Jason’s ill humor rises. The run had done nothing to clear his head of the pleasurable but unsettling events on the sniper range. Confronted by humorous chaos in the flat, the unease from earlier is gone. The fluttering in his belly is growing, but it feels good, not as unsettling. Bourne is vacuuming the worst of the spill but each time he grumbles another curse or shakes his head more flour sifts to the floor.
Kirill steals a warm roll from the tray and shoves into Bourne’s startled face. “Shower, you need,” he looks full on into Jason’s eyes then down to the full lips, licking out at his own. Before his mouth threatens to widen into a smile, he lowers his chin, and orders again, “Go, I finish.”
Jason eyes Kirill and sighs, "Alright." He strips off his shirt on the way, glancing over his shoulder. "You..." He grunts, "You were going to smile." He accuses with a snort. "It's not funny." He tosses his shirt into the laundry basket and pulls out of his shorts. He pulls the shower curtain closed firmly and turns on the water.
Kirill gives another soft snort as he takes over cleaning. Vacuuming up most of the flour and using the attachments on the walls, nooks and crannies. A quick wipe down of the counter and tabletop, and then he moves onto the pasty dishes. Within a short time the room is returned to order and clean plates and flatware set out. The shower is still running but the flour still in his hair and stuck to his skin is itchy for different reasons than the arousal Bourne has been causing. Passing the beds, a tiny smile does break out when he sees the kitten curled in the middle of Jason’s pillow taking her own bath.
The Russian picks her up, swipes the small white streaks off the pillow and carries her into the bathroom to run a damp cloth over her fur. He sighs at the new lines and pinpricks on his chest, but at least with her nails now trimmed, they are very slight. He rattles the shower curtain to alert Bourne of his presence, “Food still warm, go eat.”
Jason pulls the curtain back, water still running, soap slicks down his body along with the drips as he suddenly grabs Kirill's shoulder and drags the taller man into the shower with him. "Kiss me." He tells the Russian fervently. "Kiss me and then we can eat."
Still in the middle of a gasp when the tug pulls Kirill full length against the shorter man, the warm water soon soaks through his thin running shorts, but does nothing to dispel his arousal. As Bourne’s soapy chest rubs against his sweat and flour streaked one the dark youth groans. His green eyes glitter as they stare into Jason’s. “Kiss?” comes out breathily and his eyes lower to the full lips and wide grin of the other.
Jason nods, eyes gleaming. "Yeah. I want you to kiss me. I want to feel your tongue, Kirill." One hand runs down his lover's chest as soon as he notices the arousal. "Please." He gazes up at the taller man, water streaking down his face. He licks his lips and parts them, inviting.
Kirill licks out at his own lips, following the movement of Jason’s tongue, the tongue that had briefly explored his mouth earlier. Watching another droplet run from cheek bone to lip, he lowers his head to lick it away. The heated breath flowing from the boy’s lips sends shivers down the Russian’s spine as he licks the next drop. The licks getting closer to the warm cavern between Bourne’s parted lips.
Jason's fingers hook into Kirill's shorts as he moans audibly into the touch. "Please... please..." He whispers. He isn't above begging, especially when he knows that this is new for his friend. Very new. His body tingles, cock stirring. He needs more, but wants Kirill to push for more first.
Eyes half mast at the sensations coursing through his body, Kirill lowers his head further. Lips just touching Jason’s he licks again, just the tip of his tongue entering to swipe across gleaming incisors and the underside of Bourne’s upper lip. In pulling back, his lower body rocks forward rubbing their arousals together. The thin, wet cotton feels like no barrier at all, and Kirill bites into his lower lip to stave a deep moan.
Jason gasps audibly at the sensation of Kirill's tongue. "Oh...god..." he leans back against the shower wall and reaches to turn off the water. He raises his arms to rest on the taller man's shoulders, fingers twisting through the thong that keeps his hair in place. "That...was nice." He smiles, temper all but gone now.
“Nice,” Kirill echoes, as a shudder of desire wracks his frame. He stays pinned in place, not knowing what is expected from him next. In two short days his whole world has upended and he has no idea what the emotions and sensations mean.
Jason lets the palm of his hand rest on Kirill's cheek, and then drags his fingers over the slight stubble. "Hm. you need a shave." He comments. "We should dry off and eat before it gets cold. If you're good, and eat everything that's on your plate. You might just get me for desert." His eyes twinkle as he encourages Kirill to move out of the shower.
In a daze, Kirill moves as directed, not fully realizing he was still in shorts and still had bits of floury paste stuck here and there. He absently strips and towels off. Pulling the band from his hair he runs the towel roughly over his wet head.
"You'll probably need a good shower afterwards." Jason nods. He cuts a bite of the ham, smiling as Kirill lets his hair down. "I'm not that great a cook." He says sheepishly, "But I know how to follow directions, and the cookbook. So, I hope it's good." He grabs a biscuit and butters it thoroughly.
“Is good,” Kirill eats quickly and efficiently. His mind runs a loop of the past two days. He only knows how to service another with his mouth and body. Long ago he’d made a vow to himself never to submit to that again. Now, this young American was awakening things he never knew existed. They were strange and pleasant and far from a dispassionate client using him for their own needs. After a few minutes of the scrape of flatware against china, he glances up under lowered brows. “Why?”
"I don't know..." Jason shrugs, looking down at his place as he spears some potato. "Because I want to." He lifts his eyes again, "And because when you smile..." He grins, "I know you’ll light up like a Christmas tree, and I’d love to see that smile."
Kirill’s flushes and lowers his head. Damp strands of hair curl forward on his cheek to tease against the tiny bit of dimple that appears for a second. “Never felt pleasure like that.” He huffs out a breath and scrapes long fingers through his hair, daring to look up and reveal the raw need in his eyes. “More, teach me.”
Jason rises from his side of the table and picks up a piece of ham. He turns Kirill's chair around so that he can sit across the taller man's lap. His movements are slow and easy, not meant to startle. "Hmmm..." He offers the piece of ham with his fingers to the full lips.
The Russian’s hands go automatically to Jason’s thighs when his chair is turned. The towel wrapped around the American’s waist parts and rises as he lowers himself. Stifling a moan when he encounters bare skin, Kirill tightens his hold. His eyes full of wariness and desire, he leans forward to take the bite, teeth just scraping the pads of Jason’s fingers.
Jason's fingers spread over Kirill's cheeks as he glides them downward, face coming closer and closer while his lover chews. He does not kiss lips, but presses a feather-light touch against a quivering jaw line as his hands continue a quest down the other man's shoulders and chest. "Have you ever?" He asks, knowing the answer already. He doubts Kirill has ever taken another man. "Do you want to?"
Swallowing the bite, Kirill does groan when Jason’s lips follow the movement of his throat. Though only covered now by a towel his shaft is painfully hard, and the question has it twitching in its terrycloth prison. “Mouth, body, only used for release, know nothing of this…” a hand flutters to indicate the pleasurable experiences they’ve shared so far.
"Then you will know tonight." Jason nods softly. "You will learn what it's like to be inside another, and you will also learn that there is a place you can touch within that brings pleasure not pain." He slides his hands back up and through the mass of dark hair.
Kirill nearly purrs from the fingers carding through his hair. He pulls Bourne’s hips toward his letting his body’s wants over rule his usual control. Hips rocking into the contact he lets his head fall back making the cords of his neck stand out. Flames of desire are swirling in the blood now roaring in his ears and throbbing in his cock. A groan from deep in his belly escapes when the hard ridge of Jason’s erection rubs against his.
Jason grins, "I take that as a yes. Hold that thought." He plays with Kirill's lips for a moment, and then rises. "I need to find something." He tells the desire-filled man with a cheeky smile. "Can't teach you without it, would be quite painful at least on my part." He rummages in his desk drawer, bending over to let Kirill have a nice view of his ass.
Shaking with the sensations coursing through him, Kirill’s eyes glitter darkly as he watches Bourne move about the room. His cock jumps to the beat of his pulse and the nervous flutter of his belly. The trepidation of hurting the youth begins to set in as each moment passes.
Jason returns with a tube of hardly used lubricant, eyes sparkling as he resettles himself on Kirill's lap. One hand spurts some lube on the other while he reaches down and begins to swath the hard cock. "I know what you want, Kirill, and I want it to be me. Your first. Will you give me that?" He asks as he leans over and kisses his lover's throat, sucking lightly on the skin.
“H…here?” Kirill stutters at the slick fingers working his length. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so lets them fall loosely to his sides. “Can not think when you do that.”
"Put your hands on my shoulders, touch me. That’s the idea. Better yet, put some lube on your hand. I bet no one has ever properly prepared you." He drags a dry thumb over Kirill's lips, marveling at how full they are.
On the verge of release from the strokes on his cock, Kirill licks out at his lips, the tip of his tongue just touching Jason’s thumb. Pupils dilated until his eyes are nearly black, he stares at the wide bow of Bourne’s mouth. His hands do come up the other’s shoulders, kneading the lean muscles. The kisses had been very pleasurable although even he knew he had no skill. “Kiss” he breathes, licking his tongue out again. Only when he sees the expression on Jason’s face does he realize he’s said that aloud.
Jason laughs and complies, leaning forward to almost devour Kirill's lips. He fumbles with the lube and slicks one of Kirill's hands. "Put your fingers inside me." He tells the other man against his lips, panting. "Stretch me."
Having been accustomed to preparing his body, Kirill pulls the sandy-haired youth up slightly and delves quickly between his nether cheeks. The feel of another’s channel clenching on his finger has him panting into Bourne’s mouth as well. When the way eases, he adds a second digit, scissoring efficiently.
"Mmm... not like that." Jason manages to speak clearly in spite of the sensations Kirill is wracking in his body. "Slowly, search around. You act like you're cleaning me out. There's something you haven't found yet." He threads his fingers through Kirill's hand again. "Look deeper."
A brow lowering in concentration, Kirill looks up into Bourne’s amused face. “Found?” Jason’s hand pushes his fingers deeper until one pad grazes over a soft spongy area. He jerks his hand away when the boy jumps. “Hurt. Pardon.” His other hand pats clumsily at the boy’s shoulder.
"N-no-...do it again." Jason growls, legs clamping down on Kirill. His eyes fiercely meet with his lovers. "Rub it....please. Now!" The command is calmed by the whimper on Jason's lips.
Kirill enters the passage again, his free hand cupping Jason’s face to gauge his reactions this time. With a bit of fumbling and questing he finds and taps lightly against that spot. This time it is he who gasps at the pleasure he sees on Jason’s face.
Jason wiggles in Kirill's lap, toes curling as he pants. "Yessss...' He purrs in his lover's neck. "Yeah, stretch me...'m ready for ya." He nuzzles the other man's hand and just writhes on his lap. The towel has fallen completely away.
Shaft leaking copiously from the earlier ministrations and the wriggling boy in his lap, Kirill scissors his fingers in the loosened channel. His body is thrumming in tune to the blood rushing in his veins. The sound and feel of Bourne’s passion is raising his own to a fever pitch. The Russian never knew a sexual encounter could send such pleasurable waves of sensations throughout his entire body.
He carefully lifts the blond’s hips and guides the tip of his rod to the clenching entrance. When the head passes the tight ring of muscle, Bourne bites into his neck, sending a flash of heat straight to his tightened sac. Grunting at the speed in which his release empties from his body, he shudders through each pulse.
Jason laughs softly as his aching entrance is already soothed immediately by warm soft come. "I knew you hadn't done this before." He whispers, lightly touching his lover's chest with one finger, trailing a little circle.
Kirill’s hand tightens on the boy’s hip as he tries to suck air back into his lungs. The slick heat surrounding the tip of his cock keeps it throbbing long after the last jet of come left his body. Head thrown back and eyes tightly closed, he sits limply in an attempt to recover from the intense orgasm.
Jason's hands run up and down Kirill's body, cooing and soothing him. "It's alright." He whispers. "It's ok."
Cheeks flushed in passion and embarrassment, Kirill opens glazed green eyes to stare at the younger man. He gasps as his softening rod slips from Jason’s entrance. There are no words to convey the emotions flitting through his mind and across his face. A shudder wracks his form each time the smaller man’s hands flow over a sensitive area.
Jason helps Kirill to his feet and draws him to the bedroom. He carefully lays the taller man down in his bed and sits on the edge hands still soothing as he smiles at his confused lover.
When Jason’s finger tip grazes an erect nipple, Kirill groans from deep in his chest. He brings his rubbery arms up to pull the other down into a hard hug. “Not enough,” he rasps out, not knowing if he means his too-quick release, Bourne’s still aroused state, or the light pets that are raising goose-flesh on his oversensitive skin.
Jason laughs softly and nuzzles Kirill's neck with his lips. "It's enough. You're more than enough." He murmurs soft words into his lover's ear as he attempts to settle them both down from that inspiring release. Too much perhaps for Kirill, the man had obviously never done that before, with anyone, much less with a woman. It made Jason sad, and he tips the other man's chin so he can look into his eyes. Deep and mesmerizing, they held him every time. It was like looking into a soul. "Lets get washed up in the shower, ok?"
Jason’s weight feels comforting to his still sensitized and lethargic body. He tightens his grip on the American’s waist as his mind tries to make sense of the emotions this boy pulls from hidden places with in him. In a few minutes he might regain some energy to bring the smiling youth to completion. For now all he can do is hold on tight as his body continues to shudder now and again.
“Canna move.” Disconcerted by the intent gaze, Kirill starts to turn his head away.
"Don't hide them from me." Jason implores, coaxing him to look back again. "I can only ever tell what you're feeling when you look at me." He runs a hand down Kirill's chest and up again over his shoulders. "Do you know how beautiful your eyes are?" He asks softly. "And how hard it is to get you to look straight at me?" He threads his fingers through long thick hair and sighs in content.
A flush of more than spent passion blooms on the Russian’s cheeks. He knew he was nothing more than a street urchin with a skill for killing quietly and efficiently. This place was only to hone those skills. Until his roommate wormed under his skin and into the dark recesses of his soul. Stirring strange emotions, making Kirill crave more. Letting the need shine through his once emotionless face, the dark youth pulled his lover down to lick at the boy’s wide lips.
Jason laps the kiss eagerly, taking it deeply, allowing their wet tongues to mesh together. He'd never felt anything like this before, emotion had always been difficult to understand, always channeled into energy or anger. He never thought that he actually needed more than that. Kirill gave him something new. It was almost... He balked at the very idea. Love? He was in training to perfect his skills at killing people. There was no room for love in their lives.
TBC
Author: rufferto and kitty_trio
Fandom: Bourne Supremacy
Characters: Jason Bourne/Kirill
Prompt: #4 Dinner
Word Count: 3735
Rating: NC-17, Slash
Disclaimer: It’s Fiction! Never happened. All lies from troubled minds. We do not own Jason, Kirill or any characters from the Bourne universe. Other characters are figments of vivid imaginations, any similarity to persons real or fictitious is merely incidental. No money made from this fantasy.
Author's Notes: Two young guns in spy school will not only learn to become lovers and assassins, but 'do it' against a backdrop of fluffy snags along the way.
This came from Karl’s comments about a running joke on the set that Kirill shot Jason’s girlfriend in Goa because the two had a ‘thing’ whilst in spy school together. Written for the 25fluffyfics Challenge.
Click button for our Fluffy Table:
Banner manip as always, made lovingly by rufferto
Prompt 4: Dinner
Jason considers the concoction he was stirring together with perplexity. Now where was that tin of salt? He knew it was around here SOMEWHERE. Just need a teaspoon for the biscuits. Or so the package said. He hoped it said teaspoon, anyway.
Percy eyes the antics on the countertop. Rubs against this other human is not resulting in tuna or milk refills. She eyes the distance from the chair to the counter. Backing to the very edge, her little rear wriggling in preparation, she makes the leap. A cloud of white explodes when she lands squarely in the soft pile next to the giant-sized milk bowl.
Jason exclaims very rudely as he hears the backdoor to the apartment open. He picks up the flour coated kitten and stomps over to Kirill. Cursing, he shoves the flailing cat at Kirill. Percy hooks onto Kirill's shirt and Jason storms back to the kitchen, hair covered in flour as he attempts to make sense of the billowing cloud that has resulted.
Sweaty from his run, Kirill doesn’t get more than one foot in the door when he receives an armful of dusty kitten. Bourne then storms off, colorful curses and more dust wafting behind him. Extracting the now white beast from his shirt and chest is proving difficult while he toes off his shoes. Instead he cuddles her closer and warily follows the trail of white. Lips twitching, a snort escapes as he surveys the aftermath. “Feed first, told you.”
"Had to get them done!" Jason raises his hands in the air in exasperation. The oven dings and he rushes to stop the first batch from being ruined. "Whew." He sighs in relief as he takes them out and puts them high above the cloud near the table, immediately throwing a cover over them. Also warming is some cooked ham that is (thankfully) wrapped in foil and baked potatoes. Unfortunately, the nicely laid out table is all covered in flour now. Jason sighs looking at it and rubs his face, resulting in white streaks.
His eyes dancing in amusement, Kirill pulls up the bottom of his t-shirt twisting the cotton and anchoring the fold beneath one armpit. This makes a nice pouch for the still fretting kitten. Leaving Bourne to his mess, he deftly maneuvers around the scowling American. Tin of kitten food, milk, saucer and fork are juggled to one relatively clean space. Percy begins settling down now that she hears and feels the steady beat of her dark savior’s heart. A good washing will have to wait as she eyes the preparation of her supper.
Jason grumpily cleans up the mess, lamenting the loss of most of the biscuit mix though he is able to save enough for one more batch. Sighing at the table he puts all the dishes into the sink and is thankful for whoever invented dishwashers. A few moments later he has a mop out for the floor though he himself is still covered in flour and cursing in a very colorful manner.
Kirill wriggles with Percy as he works. Each time she wiggles one way in her make-shift pouch, he counteracts with a shift of his upper body or elbows to nudge her back to the center. An expanse of bare flesh is visible beneath the active bundle, striped with runnels of sweat through the dusting of flour. Passing Jason who’s wielding the mop like he’s about the beat the floury mess to death, Kirill plucks it from his hands. “Vacuum first.” Having no hands or arms available, he uses a hip to nudge the flour-streaked man toward the closet.
Jason grumbles again at being shoved unceremoniously to vacuum the room. He fumbles a bit turning it on, muttering. "You didn't just spend two hours cooking." He starts vacuuming, still irritated.
Placing the kitten and her meal out of the way near the beds, Kirill strips his floury pasty shirt off. His lips have been quirking and eyes glittering with amusement that elevates as Jason’s ill humor rises. The run had done nothing to clear his head of the pleasurable but unsettling events on the sniper range. Confronted by humorous chaos in the flat, the unease from earlier is gone. The fluttering in his belly is growing, but it feels good, not as unsettling. Bourne is vacuuming the worst of the spill but each time he grumbles another curse or shakes his head more flour sifts to the floor.
Kirill steals a warm roll from the tray and shoves into Bourne’s startled face. “Shower, you need,” he looks full on into Jason’s eyes then down to the full lips, licking out at his own. Before his mouth threatens to widen into a smile, he lowers his chin, and orders again, “Go, I finish.”
Jason eyes Kirill and sighs, "Alright." He strips off his shirt on the way, glancing over his shoulder. "You..." He grunts, "You were going to smile." He accuses with a snort. "It's not funny." He tosses his shirt into the laundry basket and pulls out of his shorts. He pulls the shower curtain closed firmly and turns on the water.
Kirill gives another soft snort as he takes over cleaning. Vacuuming up most of the flour and using the attachments on the walls, nooks and crannies. A quick wipe down of the counter and tabletop, and then he moves onto the pasty dishes. Within a short time the room is returned to order and clean plates and flatware set out. The shower is still running but the flour still in his hair and stuck to his skin is itchy for different reasons than the arousal Bourne has been causing. Passing the beds, a tiny smile does break out when he sees the kitten curled in the middle of Jason’s pillow taking her own bath.
The Russian picks her up, swipes the small white streaks off the pillow and carries her into the bathroom to run a damp cloth over her fur. He sighs at the new lines and pinpricks on his chest, but at least with her nails now trimmed, they are very slight. He rattles the shower curtain to alert Bourne of his presence, “Food still warm, go eat.”
Jason pulls the curtain back, water still running, soap slicks down his body along with the drips as he suddenly grabs Kirill's shoulder and drags the taller man into the shower with him. "Kiss me." He tells the Russian fervently. "Kiss me and then we can eat."
Still in the middle of a gasp when the tug pulls Kirill full length against the shorter man, the warm water soon soaks through his thin running shorts, but does nothing to dispel his arousal. As Bourne’s soapy chest rubs against his sweat and flour streaked one the dark youth groans. His green eyes glitter as they stare into Jason’s. “Kiss?” comes out breathily and his eyes lower to the full lips and wide grin of the other.
Jason nods, eyes gleaming. "Yeah. I want you to kiss me. I want to feel your tongue, Kirill." One hand runs down his lover's chest as soon as he notices the arousal. "Please." He gazes up at the taller man, water streaking down his face. He licks his lips and parts them, inviting.
Kirill licks out at his own lips, following the movement of Jason’s tongue, the tongue that had briefly explored his mouth earlier. Watching another droplet run from cheek bone to lip, he lowers his head to lick it away. The heated breath flowing from the boy’s lips sends shivers down the Russian’s spine as he licks the next drop. The licks getting closer to the warm cavern between Bourne’s parted lips.
Jason's fingers hook into Kirill's shorts as he moans audibly into the touch. "Please... please..." He whispers. He isn't above begging, especially when he knows that this is new for his friend. Very new. His body tingles, cock stirring. He needs more, but wants Kirill to push for more first.
Eyes half mast at the sensations coursing through his body, Kirill lowers his head further. Lips just touching Jason’s he licks again, just the tip of his tongue entering to swipe across gleaming incisors and the underside of Bourne’s upper lip. In pulling back, his lower body rocks forward rubbing their arousals together. The thin, wet cotton feels like no barrier at all, and Kirill bites into his lower lip to stave a deep moan.
Jason gasps audibly at the sensation of Kirill's tongue. "Oh...god..." he leans back against the shower wall and reaches to turn off the water. He raises his arms to rest on the taller man's shoulders, fingers twisting through the thong that keeps his hair in place. "That...was nice." He smiles, temper all but gone now.
“Nice,” Kirill echoes, as a shudder of desire wracks his frame. He stays pinned in place, not knowing what is expected from him next. In two short days his whole world has upended and he has no idea what the emotions and sensations mean.
Jason lets the palm of his hand rest on Kirill's cheek, and then drags his fingers over the slight stubble. "Hm. you need a shave." He comments. "We should dry off and eat before it gets cold. If you're good, and eat everything that's on your plate. You might just get me for desert." His eyes twinkle as he encourages Kirill to move out of the shower.
In a daze, Kirill moves as directed, not fully realizing he was still in shorts and still had bits of floury paste stuck here and there. He absently strips and towels off. Pulling the band from his hair he runs the towel roughly over his wet head.
"You'll probably need a good shower afterwards." Jason nods. He cuts a bite of the ham, smiling as Kirill lets his hair down. "I'm not that great a cook." He says sheepishly, "But I know how to follow directions, and the cookbook. So, I hope it's good." He grabs a biscuit and butters it thoroughly.
“Is good,” Kirill eats quickly and efficiently. His mind runs a loop of the past two days. He only knows how to service another with his mouth and body. Long ago he’d made a vow to himself never to submit to that again. Now, this young American was awakening things he never knew existed. They were strange and pleasant and far from a dispassionate client using him for their own needs. After a few minutes of the scrape of flatware against china, he glances up under lowered brows. “Why?”
"I don't know..." Jason shrugs, looking down at his place as he spears some potato. "Because I want to." He lifts his eyes again, "And because when you smile..." He grins, "I know you’ll light up like a Christmas tree, and I’d love to see that smile."
Kirill’s flushes and lowers his head. Damp strands of hair curl forward on his cheek to tease against the tiny bit of dimple that appears for a second. “Never felt pleasure like that.” He huffs out a breath and scrapes long fingers through his hair, daring to look up and reveal the raw need in his eyes. “More, teach me.”
Jason rises from his side of the table and picks up a piece of ham. He turns Kirill's chair around so that he can sit across the taller man's lap. His movements are slow and easy, not meant to startle. "Hmmm..." He offers the piece of ham with his fingers to the full lips.
The Russian’s hands go automatically to Jason’s thighs when his chair is turned. The towel wrapped around the American’s waist parts and rises as he lowers himself. Stifling a moan when he encounters bare skin, Kirill tightens his hold. His eyes full of wariness and desire, he leans forward to take the bite, teeth just scraping the pads of Jason’s fingers.
Jason's fingers spread over Kirill's cheeks as he glides them downward, face coming closer and closer while his lover chews. He does not kiss lips, but presses a feather-light touch against a quivering jaw line as his hands continue a quest down the other man's shoulders and chest. "Have you ever?" He asks, knowing the answer already. He doubts Kirill has ever taken another man. "Do you want to?"
Swallowing the bite, Kirill does groan when Jason’s lips follow the movement of his throat. Though only covered now by a towel his shaft is painfully hard, and the question has it twitching in its terrycloth prison. “Mouth, body, only used for release, know nothing of this…” a hand flutters to indicate the pleasurable experiences they’ve shared so far.
"Then you will know tonight." Jason nods softly. "You will learn what it's like to be inside another, and you will also learn that there is a place you can touch within that brings pleasure not pain." He slides his hands back up and through the mass of dark hair.
Kirill nearly purrs from the fingers carding through his hair. He pulls Bourne’s hips toward his letting his body’s wants over rule his usual control. Hips rocking into the contact he lets his head fall back making the cords of his neck stand out. Flames of desire are swirling in the blood now roaring in his ears and throbbing in his cock. A groan from deep in his belly escapes when the hard ridge of Jason’s erection rubs against his.
Jason grins, "I take that as a yes. Hold that thought." He plays with Kirill's lips for a moment, and then rises. "I need to find something." He tells the desire-filled man with a cheeky smile. "Can't teach you without it, would be quite painful at least on my part." He rummages in his desk drawer, bending over to let Kirill have a nice view of his ass.
Shaking with the sensations coursing through him, Kirill’s eyes glitter darkly as he watches Bourne move about the room. His cock jumps to the beat of his pulse and the nervous flutter of his belly. The trepidation of hurting the youth begins to set in as each moment passes.
Jason returns with a tube of hardly used lubricant, eyes sparkling as he resettles himself on Kirill's lap. One hand spurts some lube on the other while he reaches down and begins to swath the hard cock. "I know what you want, Kirill, and I want it to be me. Your first. Will you give me that?" He asks as he leans over and kisses his lover's throat, sucking lightly on the skin.
“H…here?” Kirill stutters at the slick fingers working his length. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so lets them fall loosely to his sides. “Can not think when you do that.”
"Put your hands on my shoulders, touch me. That’s the idea. Better yet, put some lube on your hand. I bet no one has ever properly prepared you." He drags a dry thumb over Kirill's lips, marveling at how full they are.
On the verge of release from the strokes on his cock, Kirill licks out at his lips, the tip of his tongue just touching Jason’s thumb. Pupils dilated until his eyes are nearly black, he stares at the wide bow of Bourne’s mouth. His hands do come up the other’s shoulders, kneading the lean muscles. The kisses had been very pleasurable although even he knew he had no skill. “Kiss” he breathes, licking his tongue out again. Only when he sees the expression on Jason’s face does he realize he’s said that aloud.
Jason laughs and complies, leaning forward to almost devour Kirill's lips. He fumbles with the lube and slicks one of Kirill's hands. "Put your fingers inside me." He tells the other man against his lips, panting. "Stretch me."
Having been accustomed to preparing his body, Kirill pulls the sandy-haired youth up slightly and delves quickly between his nether cheeks. The feel of another’s channel clenching on his finger has him panting into Bourne’s mouth as well. When the way eases, he adds a second digit, scissoring efficiently.
"Mmm... not like that." Jason manages to speak clearly in spite of the sensations Kirill is wracking in his body. "Slowly, search around. You act like you're cleaning me out. There's something you haven't found yet." He threads his fingers through Kirill's hand again. "Look deeper."
A brow lowering in concentration, Kirill looks up into Bourne’s amused face. “Found?” Jason’s hand pushes his fingers deeper until one pad grazes over a soft spongy area. He jerks his hand away when the boy jumps. “Hurt. Pardon.” His other hand pats clumsily at the boy’s shoulder.
"N-no-...do it again." Jason growls, legs clamping down on Kirill. His eyes fiercely meet with his lovers. "Rub it....please. Now!" The command is calmed by the whimper on Jason's lips.
Kirill enters the passage again, his free hand cupping Jason’s face to gauge his reactions this time. With a bit of fumbling and questing he finds and taps lightly against that spot. This time it is he who gasps at the pleasure he sees on Jason’s face.
Jason wiggles in Kirill's lap, toes curling as he pants. "Yessss...' He purrs in his lover's neck. "Yeah, stretch me...'m ready for ya." He nuzzles the other man's hand and just writhes on his lap. The towel has fallen completely away.
Shaft leaking copiously from the earlier ministrations and the wriggling boy in his lap, Kirill scissors his fingers in the loosened channel. His body is thrumming in tune to the blood rushing in his veins. The sound and feel of Bourne’s passion is raising his own to a fever pitch. The Russian never knew a sexual encounter could send such pleasurable waves of sensations throughout his entire body.
He carefully lifts the blond’s hips and guides the tip of his rod to the clenching entrance. When the head passes the tight ring of muscle, Bourne bites into his neck, sending a flash of heat straight to his tightened sac. Grunting at the speed in which his release empties from his body, he shudders through each pulse.
Jason laughs softly as his aching entrance is already soothed immediately by warm soft come. "I knew you hadn't done this before." He whispers, lightly touching his lover's chest with one finger, trailing a little circle.
Kirill’s hand tightens on the boy’s hip as he tries to suck air back into his lungs. The slick heat surrounding the tip of his cock keeps it throbbing long after the last jet of come left his body. Head thrown back and eyes tightly closed, he sits limply in an attempt to recover from the intense orgasm.
Jason's hands run up and down Kirill's body, cooing and soothing him. "It's alright." He whispers. "It's ok."
Cheeks flushed in passion and embarrassment, Kirill opens glazed green eyes to stare at the younger man. He gasps as his softening rod slips from Jason’s entrance. There are no words to convey the emotions flitting through his mind and across his face. A shudder wracks his form each time the smaller man’s hands flow over a sensitive area.
Jason helps Kirill to his feet and draws him to the bedroom. He carefully lays the taller man down in his bed and sits on the edge hands still soothing as he smiles at his confused lover.
When Jason’s finger tip grazes an erect nipple, Kirill groans from deep in his chest. He brings his rubbery arms up to pull the other down into a hard hug. “Not enough,” he rasps out, not knowing if he means his too-quick release, Bourne’s still aroused state, or the light pets that are raising goose-flesh on his oversensitive skin.
Jason laughs softly and nuzzles Kirill's neck with his lips. "It's enough. You're more than enough." He murmurs soft words into his lover's ear as he attempts to settle them both down from that inspiring release. Too much perhaps for Kirill, the man had obviously never done that before, with anyone, much less with a woman. It made Jason sad, and he tips the other man's chin so he can look into his eyes. Deep and mesmerizing, they held him every time. It was like looking into a soul. "Lets get washed up in the shower, ok?"
Jason’s weight feels comforting to his still sensitized and lethargic body. He tightens his grip on the American’s waist as his mind tries to make sense of the emotions this boy pulls from hidden places with in him. In a few minutes he might regain some energy to bring the smiling youth to completion. For now all he can do is hold on tight as his body continues to shudder now and again.
“Canna move.” Disconcerted by the intent gaze, Kirill starts to turn his head away.
"Don't hide them from me." Jason implores, coaxing him to look back again. "I can only ever tell what you're feeling when you look at me." He runs a hand down Kirill's chest and up again over his shoulders. "Do you know how beautiful your eyes are?" He asks softly. "And how hard it is to get you to look straight at me?" He threads his fingers through long thick hair and sighs in content.
A flush of more than spent passion blooms on the Russian’s cheeks. He knew he was nothing more than a street urchin with a skill for killing quietly and efficiently. This place was only to hone those skills. Until his roommate wormed under his skin and into the dark recesses of his soul. Stirring strange emotions, making Kirill crave more. Letting the need shine through his once emotionless face, the dark youth pulled his lover down to lick at the boy’s wide lips.
Jason laps the kiss eagerly, taking it deeply, allowing their wet tongues to mesh together. He'd never felt anything like this before, emotion had always been difficult to understand, always channeled into energy or anger. He never thought that he actually needed more than that. Kirill gave him something new. It was almost... He balked at the very idea. Love? He was in training to perfect his skills at killing people. There was no room for love in their lives.
TBC