Fic: Spies Do It Better 9 of 25
Title: Spies Do It Better
Authors: rufferto and kitty_trio
Fandom: Bourne Supremacy
Characters: Jason Bourne/Kirill
Prompt: #10 Bath
Word Count: 4600
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 10: Bath
Jason enters the flat, eyebrows knitted shirt slightly torn. He tosses his keys and they skitter across the table. The young man glares at Kirill and stomps off to his bed. He looks slightly bruised as he huffs once and then tosses Percy off his pillow. He then collapses into bed, all dirty and exhausted.
The slam of the door and the keys crashing on the table has Kirill turning from the stove. His dark eyebrows loft at Bourne’s temperament and condition. Following the blond into the bedroom, he gently grasps and turns Jason’s face. “Hurt, how?” the Russian’s fingers play lightly over a swollen area.
"He was too fucking fast." Jason grumbles. "Judo training," he pouts and sighs, "I don't have your long arms."
Kirill rolls his lips inward suppressing a smile. Leaning in to ease Jason’s shirt off, he tsks as more bruises are revealed. “Smaller, faster, should use to advantage.” An errant lock curls on his cheek when the dark youth begins shoving down Bourne’s sweats. “Come, bath, soothe,” he urges, not noticing his lover’s reaction to his last statement.
"He distracted me." Jason flips over on his stomach and lets Kirill take care of him. "And I don't like him." He sticks his lower lip out still pouting. "Okay, Okay. He tried to come on to me, and I was surprised.”
“What?” Kirill’s normally soft voice rises as he tugs with a bit too much force on Jason’s track pants. The sound of tearing fabric is loud in the small room. “Touch… he did not…” voice and hands shaking the Russian stands abruptly. He crosses his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep in the flash of anger to find and eliminate the trainer for hurting his golden boy.
Jason flushes red. On his ass is a pair of bruises, obviously made from rough hands. “Well uh, yeah he did.” He tries to shrug it off and grunts. He hadn’t yet told Kirill about the fight and how he had been trapped for a half an hour trying to struggle out of the other man’s iron grip.
The shaking intensifies as the bruises are revealed. “What. Did. He. Do?” Kirill’s words are bitten out harshly through gritted teeth. The anguish is raw on the Russian’s face as he backs further into the room’s shadows. Someone has hurt, ra… he can’t even think the word. Never has control been needed more, and never is it harder to garner.
His golden lover needs dispassionate, gentle help to get through the horror. All the quiet boy wants to do is smash, -kill- the man who’s taken this sweet boy against his will.
Jason looks up at Kirill, realizing just what the other man thinks. “Oh…no, he didn’t.” The blonde reaches over to take the Russian’s hand and squeeze it lightly. “I didn’t realize what he was doing at first until the last minute and he’d already put me into the hold.” Jason’s redness darkens. “He did touch me though, as you can tell. And….” Jason looks away, not wanting to admit what happened next.
Kirill’s hand tightens around Jason’s almost painfully, until he realizes. He lets go abruptly “And…?” he prompts, still trying to rein the rage traveling visibly beneath his skin.
Jason mumbles under his breath, "Don't want to talk about it." He says stubbornly, burying his face in the pillow. "Ouch, fuck." He apparently forgot about the bruise on his arm and had bent it in a position that aggravated the wound.
Immediately Kirill is kneeling back at the bed. “Don’t move…” his hand is steady as it runs lightly down Bourne’s shoulder. “Broken?” The anger is a bitter taste, and he has no comprehension how gentle he’s being to his lover.
The arm is tender, sprained likely because of being held in one position for so long. "Hurts," Jason mumbles, still avoiding Kirill's eyes. He can't tell Kirill how he was turned on. The man was hot, in a very sleek sort of way, but he wasn't Kirill and had intentionally pushed all of Jason's buttons.
Gently the taller boy rolls Bourne to his side. Biting his own lip against the further pain he may cause Jason, he prods for anything more than bruised or strained tissue. “Let me draw bath… soothe aches, yes?” he asks frowning at what Jason isn’t saying, and unconvinced his lover wasn’t hurt in other ways.
Jason nods softly, "Alright, kinda hungry too." He rubs his tummy hopefully. He knows Kirill is worried, can tell it in his eyes, but he really doesn't know what to say. He -had- come and he hadn't wanted to. He'd fought all the way. He belonged to Kirill and he felt like he had been soiled. He shudders.
“Will make …comfort? meal while you bathe.” Kirill helps Jason rise and ease off the remaining clothes. His lip is tortured to keep him from verbalizing what he wants to do to the trainer. The tell-tale stains on the front of Bourne’s clothing and stomach makes him begin shaking again. “He did use you!” Careful not to touch the trainer’s filth, Kirill enfolds the smaller man in a gentle hug.
“Need to report… if he not dismissed… will kill” Kirill states shakily but firmly, carding his fingers through Jason’s blond locks. A myriad of emotions play across his face.
Jason looks over at Kirill in fascination for a few moments, was he really that angry? He really wants to be clean before touching Kirill but he can't help but reach up to caress his lover's neck. He sighs, "Can't prove it." He looks down again, miserably. "He made me..." No he didn't want to talk about it. "Just want a shower and food, ok?"
Kirill’s jaw works as he guides Jason to the small bathroom. While the tub is stoppered and the water adjusted, he covertly studies his lover. The harsher lighting details each bruise, and more. Each time he thinks he has regained some control, another scratch or mark has the shaking begin anew. To distract himself, in a whisper he recites in his mother tongue a litany of ways to kill the trainer.
“Bathe now, what food when his filth gone?” Kirill quickly strips to his boxers in preparation of letting Jason rest against his body while the dark boy washes and eases his lover’s physical aches and pains.
Jason has a little trouble thinking when he listens to Kirill swear and rattle off in Russian. He hadn't expected Kirill to let him lean against him. In fact, it helps him settle his own nerves hearing the sound of his lover's heart. "Mmm. I don't know. Pizza? With extra cheese." He decides, nuzzling against Kirill's chest. He looks up at Kirill. "Yeah pizza would be good. Lots of sauce."
Jason tries hard not to think about what happened, he's just happy to be in Kirill's arms. He smiles a little wanly, but smiles at the idea of pizza. It's not a food that Kirill has been too fond of and he hasn't had it in a while.
Crinkling his nose at Jason’s choice of meal, Kirill lathers a cloth. Making sure the hand-print bruises on the youth’s rear aren’t pressing against a hard surface, he washes away the streaks of cum. Wishing all the while he could wash away the hurt his lover has suffered.
Jason grins suddenly as he sees Kirill's nose wrinkle. "I'm okay really." He shrugs in a manly fashion. "He just took me by surprise, never knew he was interested in me. I did fight him, and I did manage to get out of the hold eventually. Took -him- by surprise." The younger man grins devilishly. "I pretended to be responding to him and that's when he loosened his grip."
Kirill hides a frown by carefully folding Jason forward so the taller boy can look over the bruising on the American’s lower back. Responding physically was one of Bourne’s lack-of-control issues. While he cleaned his lover’s back, a number of things began to click into place.
Other than his initial outburst, Bourne has been too flippant about the entire encounter. Now the come stains within this golden boy’s clothing make more sense. Bringing Jason back to rest against his chest, Kirill speaks gently. “Took you… no, but took from you, yes?” His arms tightened protectively as a strange feeling curdles in his gut. No one but Kirill should be able to watch the fascinating emotions play over Jason’s face during release.
Jason settles, running a hand down one of Kirill's legs as he tries to forget what happened. It wasn't that it made him feel vulnerable or anything, he'd just been surprised, that's all. "Forget it, its fine." He tells Kirill with a low purr, eyes heavy-lidded. There's only one thing he wants right now, one thing that he can lose himself in. "Want you." He says, lips parting slightly as he shifts to kiss his lover's shoulder.
“Never forget, hurt you,” Kirill firmly but gently turns Bourne back to face away. Until he can grasp some understanding of his possessive feelings, he doesn’t trust himself not to hurt Jason further. “Let me care,” he reaches for the fragrant shampoo the blond uses and pours a small amount in his hand. His long slim fingers work it in, massaging Jason’s scalp soothingly.
Jason murmurs something as Kirill's long fingers start to work their magic. "Not a woman or something." He mutters, as the soap stops him from really kissing his lover's chest further. "Get that over with, want you inside." The words are somewhat gruff and forceful, unlike what Jason is like normally.
A lifetime ago until one small room became his world, only one ancient hag cared enough for the street urchins to ease their struggles against the life they were helpless to avoid. Cleansing the physical hurts as best she could, and letting the boys rail against the emotional wounds they were ill equipped to deal with or comprehend.
Kirill shudders as he deliberately probes his memories, searching for a way to help his lover deal with what the Russian perceives as a reaction to abuse. “Not right, only hurt more,” his attempts to soothe seem to fall on deaf ears as Jason moves with more force in his arms.
"Kirill, I'm not fragile." Jason almost snaps, anger flashing suddenly in his eyes. "He didn't hurt me; he just fucking took me by surprise, that's all. Now, are you going to fuck me or not?" The younger man's temper was rising and he couldn't put it down, unsure of why he was so angry all of a sudden.
Now that Bourne’s anger is surfacing, Kirill slips behind an impassive mask. It’s going to get worse, but any repressed reaction this process may trigger in the dark boy is worth getting his sunshine-golden lover past his horrific experience.
“Not fragile,” he agrees softly. After rinsing Jason’s body, he helps him stand. Wrapping him in a warm towel, Kirill deliberately pulls it tight around the youth’s arms.
Jason grunts, eyes flashing up at Kirill, still feeling like he's being 'babied'. "Kirill..." He whines. "You're not going to hurt me. Will you just..?" He allows his lover to pull him tight, though he stiffens very slightly, almost involuntarily.
Not meeting Jason’s eyes, Kirill hums soothingly. He crowds the smaller man seemingly only to dry his lover’s flesh. As the towel effectively pins Bourne’s arms to his sides, Kirill silently urges Jason to fight, fight the hold, fight Kirill, fight and overcome his recent ordeal.
Jason struggles really then, glaring at Kirill, "What are you doing? Let me go!" He fights hard, kicking out, slipping from the hold as he knows best. Kirill's stronger though.
Kirill scoffs, “Didn’t fight back, did you?” He releases Bourne with a slight shove. Letting all his anger at the trainer and at himself for having to push this sweet boy so cruelly show on his face, the Russian looks up as he strips off his soaked boxers. “Wanted his touch, wanted him, yes?”
He turns his back and walks into the bedroom. All the while anticipating, bracing for, and hoping Jason will attack. Only then can Jason begin to heal the emotional scars, and return to the sunshine and golden boy he… Kirill’s steps stutter …cares for. He cannot think on the emotions swirling within. The odd possessiveness and that something else will have to wait until he can purge them during a long run.
Jason picks up a pillow and flings it at Kirill. Then turns a side table over, scaring Percy. "I'm not a fucking girl." He growls. "Stop treating me like I'm some kind of powerless sap who's going to break because some asshole tried to fuck him. It didn't happen. I didn't want him. He tricked me, goddamit. Don't turn your back on me."
Ducking the pillow easily, Kirill continues nonchalantly to the beds, tossing one more gruff taunt over his shoulder. “Not girl, just boy who climaxed for another.” Pulling the rubber bands from his wet hair, he winces at what he is doing. Again, he deliberately turns his thoughts from *his* Jason reacting to someone else’s touch.
The dark youth nudges the kitten toward her food bowls in the kitchen after a soothing stroke to her back.
"Shut up." Jason clenches his fist. "I didn't." The sob catches in his throat. The towel falls from the boy and he stands there looking lost, unsure what to do. "Don't want him. Didn't want him. Didn't ask him to touch me."
The pain in Jason’s voice lowers Kirill’s shoulders in defeat. He spins and closes the distance between them. “Needed you to release anger, still should,” his fingers cup the blond’s face, thumbs tilting the shorter boy’s chin up for a soft but enveloping kiss.
Jason sinks into the kiss, lips opening willfully to his lover’s, body sagging into Kirill’s as his hands tighten on the other man's shoulders. His knees weaken as he realizes the emotion that's pent up within him ever since Dieter had started to trap him in that hold. When their lips part his eyes meet Kirill's. "I l... Oh fuck." He shudders. 'Kirill. It's you I want. Just you."
“Am yours,” the taller boy rasps. Supporting Jason’s weight, he backs to the nearest bed. Only now, with his lover reacting to his kiss, does Kirill’s body awaken. He sits heavily, pulling Bourne’s muscled thighs around his waist. Their cocks slide against each other, eliciting a moan as his green eyes glitter and darken in passion.
"Kir..." Jason swallows. He's never tried to nickname Kirill's name before. His fingers slide up and down his lover's chest and bunch around his nipple, massaging it. "Need you, but slow, with meaning. Not fast. Love me."
Purring when his nipple responds to Jason’s manipulations, Kirill rocks their bodies together. “Slow, yes…” his hair falls forward as he leans in to nip along Jason’s jaw. Licking the shell of one ear, the taller boy whispers, “Ride, set pace as slow as you can stand.” His long fingers massage the globes of Bourne’s rear, “ride all night, until passion is only thought in minds”.
"I can stand anything when it's you inside me." Jason grins. He suddenly pushes Kirill down on the bed and jumps on top of him. He pulls his lover up so that he can comfortably straddle him and looks down to admire the dark haired youth. His fingers thread through the long locks as he gazes heatedly into the other boy's eyes.
Kirill’s lips quirk in amusement for the first time this evening. On one level he’s not sure if Bourne is past whatever may have happened, but the return of his cheekily forceful golden boy is most welcome. Fumbling under a pillow for the lube, he cants his hips. From this position, his full shaft nudges between Jason’s curvaceous cheeks, precome allowing it to slide along the crease. “Here?” he asks teasingly, “how shall I open?” the dark youth’s eyes glitter with green fire as he licks his lips.
"However you want to." Jason grins. He leans down to flick his fingers over tightening nipples. "Just make sure you do it soon." He positions himself, maneuvering his body so that he's comfortably resting just over Kirill's cock. A shudder ripples through him as he feels it slide.
Dexterously Kirill sits up without dislodging Jason. He wouldn’t have minded flipping his lover over and opening him slowly with tongue and fingers. If his golden boy wants a fast preparation, he’ll do so, and spend the rest of the night buried in Jason’s tight sheath.
Quickly, efficiently the dark boy stretches the other. When three fingers are deep, that’s when he taps against the bundle of nerves deep inside. “Lower yourself, ride as you will.” Kirill’s voice is husky, watching the pleasure crossing Jason’s face.
Jason gives a low soft mewl which makes Percy lift her head with a quizzical expression. He squirms as the fingers play within him and his tongue snakes out to lick his lips. "Oh hell..." He whimpers. "Yeah..." When he's ready to sink onto Kirill's cock he lowers himself carefully.
“Yesss…” Kirill groans as Jason’s body envelops his cock. Other than lightly gripping the blond’s hips, he lets the smaller boy set the pace. He’s still sitting at the edge of the bed and runs a trail of nips along Jason’s shoulder.
Jason lowers himself slowly onto the hard cock, closing his eyes as he feels himself stretched open. This is what he was for, what he needed. He needs Kirill so badly he can feel it in every fiber of his being. Deep down, he knows that he more than cares for this man. Love has no place in their profession, but he can't help it. "Just... let me take it easy." He tells Kirill as he lets out another breath and pushes further again.
Kirill’s breath hitches when Jason settles deeply in his lap. Throbbing cock encased in tight heat, his fingers clench once on Jason’s hips. Already, it’s difficult to retain control and not thrust into his golden lover. He moans and licks at the sweat forming on the freckled skin of Bourne’s shoulder.
Jason's fingers play over Kirill's chest and up and down his neck to twirl around his nipples. He gazes down at his lover pushing downwards until Kirill is finally buried deep within him. The full sensation wipes out the memory of those hands on his cock and he can only focus on Kirill now. That's why he wanted this, why he needs this. Why he needs Kirill more than anything else. Kirill makes him forget. "Beg me to move." His smile becomes playful as he tweaks both of his lover's nipples deliberately.
Moaning again, Kirill tosses the hair out of his eyes. His full lips part as his tongue sweeps out to moisten them. “My body yours,” he rasps, leaning back against the pillows. “Manipulate as you wish.” The fire in his dark eyes counters the passive way he sprawls, crossing his arms over his head.
Jason gazes down at Kirill, "Want it to be good for you too." He whispers, fascinated at the way Kirill's tongue moves. He starts to ride then, just slow at first, tiny movements allowing Kirill to fill him and stretch him. "Yeah..." He murmurs, panting.
Kirill’s eyes flicker, drinking in the gorgeous sight of Jason’s golden skin flushing with heightened desire. “Mine…” slips from his lips as the possessive feeling swells. “Is good always, only if is you…” he pants through his golden boy’s small movements.
A thrill passes through Jason's heart when he hears Kirill say that word. Mine. Yes. His. Every part of him belonged to Kirill, that's what felt so wrong earlier. That's what hurt so much. "Didn't want him," Jason suddenly says, his eyes flashing. "Want you. Only you." He starts to move faster. "OH god... Oh god please, Kirill, I want you faster... please..."
Kirill moves then, gripping Jason’s hips again. “Slow, have all night” he urges. Keeping a firm hold he rolls his hips, letting his cock slide against his lover’s prostate. Jason’s full cock is twitching and leaking onto Kirill’s belly, “Come now?” one hand circles the length, “then last all night?”
"Not yet..." Jason bites his lip. He's not ready to come yet. He needs to feel Kirill deeper. The boy starts to move faster, slamming himself down on Kirill's cock, legs shuddering each time. He grips his lover's shoulders hard, "More, harder..." It's almost as if he's not even -listening- to Kirill and ignoring his own body. "Please..."
“Still,” Kirill orders, keeping Jason in place on his next downward slam. Holding tight to his lover’s hips the Russian rolls, pinning the smaller man beneath him. “Slow… you want slow,” bending the other’s thighs up, he sinks to the hilt within his golden boy’s sheath.
Lowering until he lays fully against Bourne, the dark boy whisper-growls, “Deep now… feel…” the wet waves of Kirill’s hair curtains their faces as he closes in for a kiss. His lower body remains immobile, hoping to calm the blond. They have all night, and he wants his sunshine-golden lover to revel in each long moment.
Jason wiggles underneath Kirill, he closes his eyes and growls low as he feels his lover sink to the hilt. The kiss takes his breath away and he has to gasp for breath while his legs tighten around his lover. He laps out at Kirill’s tongue, trying to keep the other man’s tangled within his mouth. “Don’t make me think.” He implores and lifts up a little to meet the thrust though finds himself completely pinned. “Move, please.”
The taller boy complies with a small shift, just the head of his cock scraping over Jason’s prostate. “Yes, only feel… so full, tight…” he thrusts shallowly again, letting their tongues tangle between his panted words. One arm moves down to hook Jason’s leg over a shoulder. His other tips his lover’s face up so he can drink in the younger boy’s passion.
Kirill hums his pleasure when Jason’s eyes glaze letting the darker youth know no thought beyond their lovemaking fills the blond’s head.
Jason’s eyes glaze as he feels the slow, hard thrusting. His body relaxes under each movement, the sounds that come from him becoming tiny little moans and sharp hitches of breath. He can only think of Kirill, and how his body tingles with pleasure, He can’t hold back the orgasm that ripples through him finally, his warm seed spilling over his lover’s stomach.
“Don’t stop…don’t stop…” He begs even as his insides clench.
A growl comes from low in Kirill’s throat when Jason’s passage squeezes around his shaft. Arms straightening, he lifts his upper body away slightly. Pinning the shuddering man with a passionate gaze, he moves with longer strokes, slowly and steadily. He has no idea how long he can last, just being within Jason’s tight heat plays havoc with his control.
Jason's head is starting to spin with the intensity of the moment. He gasps and whimpers, fingers clenching Kirill as he tries desperately to hold on. Their strength has left him, however, and he tumbles over the edge of bliss to float in the clouds that catch him. Every swift thrust pushes him further into the comfort of those warm and fluffy clouds. He keens a light and soft sound that echoes around the apartment. Percy's ears flatten at the sound, unsure of what to make of it. For Jason, the hurt has been erased and now all he feels is Kirill.
Kirill’s eyes lower to half-mast watching his lover sink further into heightened pleasure. Panting breaths puff from his parted lips with each stroke. His hips stutter as his orgasm builds. The knot of unease about what hurts are still lurking within his golden boy’s soul loosens, until the only thought left to the young Russian is ‘mine’.
“Mine” he pants on the next breath. “Yours” is grunted as his release rushes from his body into the channel clenching his shaft. His arms collapse and he falls into the cradle of Jason’s body, small thrusts fill his lover with his essence, his very soul.
“Yesssss..." Jason cries, holding onto Kirill desperately "Yess, Kirill..." His insides are finally filled with his lover's hot seed, sweeping away every trace or possibility that there could be anyone else. He squeezes and milks his lover, riding him till the very end, "Yours. Only yours."
Gasping, Kirill gathers Jason in shaking arms. His eyes reflect spent passion, and more. His brow furrows in confusion for the strange thoughts and feelings swirling in his head and gut. “Breathe, can’t…” His green eyes search Jason’s face as if it will have an answer to the fist tightening on his heart at the thought of ever being away from this special boy.
Jason's brow furrows into worry as he looks up at Kirill. His fingers massage his lover's chest. "Breathe, Kirill." He directs softly. "Come on...It's alright." He gathers his arms around the other man and presses himself against the dark haired youth, lips close to his. "Take my breath if you need it."
Kirill does, sucking in the unique sun and sand taste of the smaller boy. Plunging his tongue in to search for the special taste of Jason, the tightening in his chest eases. A steady throb of warmth envelops him, calming him. All tension leaves his body until it feels like he’s a boneless mass blanketing the man beneath.
Jason wraps himself around the other man, clinging to him desperately locking in the warmth and heat. They simply hold each other, he is afraid to look into Kirill's eyes. He knows that all the emotion he feels is on his face. He's raw and vulnerable, and Kirill...he makes everything alright. But this can't be happening; he can't be falling in love. He can't -love-. Their work has no place for love. Unfortunately, it was too late. He knew without a shadow of a doubt now that he loved Kirill and needed him "Don't leave me" Jason whispers. "Please. Everyone I l..." Everyone he loved dies.
“Sleep, not leave,” is all Kirill can manage. Any thoughts beyond this moment in time leads to emotions he’s never felt before and cannot comprehend. He rolls to one side, taking Jason with him. He should withdraw from his lover’s depths and clean their bodies. Instead he pulls the duvet around their entwined limbs, cocooning the lovers in warmth.
Jason whimpers and cuddles into Kirill. Exhausted, he finally closes his eyes and leans into Kirill, tightly wrapped around him. As he drifts off to sleep, he voices what's in his heart. "I love you." The words are spoken with sincerity and cannot be mistaken, and they come of their own free will. Finally, Jason sleeps.
On the edge of sleep, Kirill stiffens at the phrase. Love? He’s not worthy of such an illusive emotion, especially from such a special being as his Jason. Not realizing the possessive implications, the dark youth follows his Jason into sleep, a small smile of contentment on his face.
When they finally settle, Percy hops onto the bed. After a short wash and a few turns, she nestles in her dark human’s curve of shoulder and neck. It’s not her preferred place beneath his chin. She’ll let the light one have that favored place, this time.
Authors: rufferto and kitty_trio
Fandom: Bourne Supremacy
Characters: Jason Bourne/Kirill
Prompt: #10 Bath
Word Count: 4600
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 10: Bath
Jason enters the flat, eyebrows knitted shirt slightly torn. He tosses his keys and they skitter across the table. The young man glares at Kirill and stomps off to his bed. He looks slightly bruised as he huffs once and then tosses Percy off his pillow. He then collapses into bed, all dirty and exhausted.
The slam of the door and the keys crashing on the table has Kirill turning from the stove. His dark eyebrows loft at Bourne’s temperament and condition. Following the blond into the bedroom, he gently grasps and turns Jason’s face. “Hurt, how?” the Russian’s fingers play lightly over a swollen area.
"He was too fucking fast." Jason grumbles. "Judo training," he pouts and sighs, "I don't have your long arms."
Kirill rolls his lips inward suppressing a smile. Leaning in to ease Jason’s shirt off, he tsks as more bruises are revealed. “Smaller, faster, should use to advantage.” An errant lock curls on his cheek when the dark youth begins shoving down Bourne’s sweats. “Come, bath, soothe,” he urges, not noticing his lover’s reaction to his last statement.
"He distracted me." Jason flips over on his stomach and lets Kirill take care of him. "And I don't like him." He sticks his lower lip out still pouting. "Okay, Okay. He tried to come on to me, and I was surprised.”
“What?” Kirill’s normally soft voice rises as he tugs with a bit too much force on Jason’s track pants. The sound of tearing fabric is loud in the small room. “Touch… he did not…” voice and hands shaking the Russian stands abruptly. He crosses his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep in the flash of anger to find and eliminate the trainer for hurting his golden boy.
Jason flushes red. On his ass is a pair of bruises, obviously made from rough hands. “Well uh, yeah he did.” He tries to shrug it off and grunts. He hadn’t yet told Kirill about the fight and how he had been trapped for a half an hour trying to struggle out of the other man’s iron grip.
The shaking intensifies as the bruises are revealed. “What. Did. He. Do?” Kirill’s words are bitten out harshly through gritted teeth. The anguish is raw on the Russian’s face as he backs further into the room’s shadows. Someone has hurt, ra… he can’t even think the word. Never has control been needed more, and never is it harder to garner.
His golden lover needs dispassionate, gentle help to get through the horror. All the quiet boy wants to do is smash, -kill- the man who’s taken this sweet boy against his will.
Jason looks up at Kirill, realizing just what the other man thinks. “Oh…no, he didn’t.” The blonde reaches over to take the Russian’s hand and squeeze it lightly. “I didn’t realize what he was doing at first until the last minute and he’d already put me into the hold.” Jason’s redness darkens. “He did touch me though, as you can tell. And….” Jason looks away, not wanting to admit what happened next.
Kirill’s hand tightens around Jason’s almost painfully, until he realizes. He lets go abruptly “And…?” he prompts, still trying to rein the rage traveling visibly beneath his skin.
Jason mumbles under his breath, "Don't want to talk about it." He says stubbornly, burying his face in the pillow. "Ouch, fuck." He apparently forgot about the bruise on his arm and had bent it in a position that aggravated the wound.
Immediately Kirill is kneeling back at the bed. “Don’t move…” his hand is steady as it runs lightly down Bourne’s shoulder. “Broken?” The anger is a bitter taste, and he has no comprehension how gentle he’s being to his lover.
The arm is tender, sprained likely because of being held in one position for so long. "Hurts," Jason mumbles, still avoiding Kirill's eyes. He can't tell Kirill how he was turned on. The man was hot, in a very sleek sort of way, but he wasn't Kirill and had intentionally pushed all of Jason's buttons.
Gently the taller boy rolls Bourne to his side. Biting his own lip against the further pain he may cause Jason, he prods for anything more than bruised or strained tissue. “Let me draw bath… soothe aches, yes?” he asks frowning at what Jason isn’t saying, and unconvinced his lover wasn’t hurt in other ways.
Jason nods softly, "Alright, kinda hungry too." He rubs his tummy hopefully. He knows Kirill is worried, can tell it in his eyes, but he really doesn't know what to say. He -had- come and he hadn't wanted to. He'd fought all the way. He belonged to Kirill and he felt like he had been soiled. He shudders.
“Will make …comfort? meal while you bathe.” Kirill helps Jason rise and ease off the remaining clothes. His lip is tortured to keep him from verbalizing what he wants to do to the trainer. The tell-tale stains on the front of Bourne’s clothing and stomach makes him begin shaking again. “He did use you!” Careful not to touch the trainer’s filth, Kirill enfolds the smaller man in a gentle hug.
“Need to report… if he not dismissed… will kill” Kirill states shakily but firmly, carding his fingers through Jason’s blond locks. A myriad of emotions play across his face.
Jason looks over at Kirill in fascination for a few moments, was he really that angry? He really wants to be clean before touching Kirill but he can't help but reach up to caress his lover's neck. He sighs, "Can't prove it." He looks down again, miserably. "He made me..." No he didn't want to talk about it. "Just want a shower and food, ok?"
Kirill’s jaw works as he guides Jason to the small bathroom. While the tub is stoppered and the water adjusted, he covertly studies his lover. The harsher lighting details each bruise, and more. Each time he thinks he has regained some control, another scratch or mark has the shaking begin anew. To distract himself, in a whisper he recites in his mother tongue a litany of ways to kill the trainer.
“Bathe now, what food when his filth gone?” Kirill quickly strips to his boxers in preparation of letting Jason rest against his body while the dark boy washes and eases his lover’s physical aches and pains.
Jason has a little trouble thinking when he listens to Kirill swear and rattle off in Russian. He hadn't expected Kirill to let him lean against him. In fact, it helps him settle his own nerves hearing the sound of his lover's heart. "Mmm. I don't know. Pizza? With extra cheese." He decides, nuzzling against Kirill's chest. He looks up at Kirill. "Yeah pizza would be good. Lots of sauce."
Jason tries hard not to think about what happened, he's just happy to be in Kirill's arms. He smiles a little wanly, but smiles at the idea of pizza. It's not a food that Kirill has been too fond of and he hasn't had it in a while.
Crinkling his nose at Jason’s choice of meal, Kirill lathers a cloth. Making sure the hand-print bruises on the youth’s rear aren’t pressing against a hard surface, he washes away the streaks of cum. Wishing all the while he could wash away the hurt his lover has suffered.
Jason grins suddenly as he sees Kirill's nose wrinkle. "I'm okay really." He shrugs in a manly fashion. "He just took me by surprise, never knew he was interested in me. I did fight him, and I did manage to get out of the hold eventually. Took -him- by surprise." The younger man grins devilishly. "I pretended to be responding to him and that's when he loosened his grip."
Kirill hides a frown by carefully folding Jason forward so the taller boy can look over the bruising on the American’s lower back. Responding physically was one of Bourne’s lack-of-control issues. While he cleaned his lover’s back, a number of things began to click into place.
Other than his initial outburst, Bourne has been too flippant about the entire encounter. Now the come stains within this golden boy’s clothing make more sense. Bringing Jason back to rest against his chest, Kirill speaks gently. “Took you… no, but took from you, yes?” His arms tightened protectively as a strange feeling curdles in his gut. No one but Kirill should be able to watch the fascinating emotions play over Jason’s face during release.
Jason settles, running a hand down one of Kirill's legs as he tries to forget what happened. It wasn't that it made him feel vulnerable or anything, he'd just been surprised, that's all. "Forget it, its fine." He tells Kirill with a low purr, eyes heavy-lidded. There's only one thing he wants right now, one thing that he can lose himself in. "Want you." He says, lips parting slightly as he shifts to kiss his lover's shoulder.
“Never forget, hurt you,” Kirill firmly but gently turns Bourne back to face away. Until he can grasp some understanding of his possessive feelings, he doesn’t trust himself not to hurt Jason further. “Let me care,” he reaches for the fragrant shampoo the blond uses and pours a small amount in his hand. His long slim fingers work it in, massaging Jason’s scalp soothingly.
Jason murmurs something as Kirill's long fingers start to work their magic. "Not a woman or something." He mutters, as the soap stops him from really kissing his lover's chest further. "Get that over with, want you inside." The words are somewhat gruff and forceful, unlike what Jason is like normally.
A lifetime ago until one small room became his world, only one ancient hag cared enough for the street urchins to ease their struggles against the life they were helpless to avoid. Cleansing the physical hurts as best she could, and letting the boys rail against the emotional wounds they were ill equipped to deal with or comprehend.
Kirill shudders as he deliberately probes his memories, searching for a way to help his lover deal with what the Russian perceives as a reaction to abuse. “Not right, only hurt more,” his attempts to soothe seem to fall on deaf ears as Jason moves with more force in his arms.
"Kirill, I'm not fragile." Jason almost snaps, anger flashing suddenly in his eyes. "He didn't hurt me; he just fucking took me by surprise, that's all. Now, are you going to fuck me or not?" The younger man's temper was rising and he couldn't put it down, unsure of why he was so angry all of a sudden.
Now that Bourne’s anger is surfacing, Kirill slips behind an impassive mask. It’s going to get worse, but any repressed reaction this process may trigger in the dark boy is worth getting his sunshine-golden lover past his horrific experience.
“Not fragile,” he agrees softly. After rinsing Jason’s body, he helps him stand. Wrapping him in a warm towel, Kirill deliberately pulls it tight around the youth’s arms.
Jason grunts, eyes flashing up at Kirill, still feeling like he's being 'babied'. "Kirill..." He whines. "You're not going to hurt me. Will you just..?" He allows his lover to pull him tight, though he stiffens very slightly, almost involuntarily.
Not meeting Jason’s eyes, Kirill hums soothingly. He crowds the smaller man seemingly only to dry his lover’s flesh. As the towel effectively pins Bourne’s arms to his sides, Kirill silently urges Jason to fight, fight the hold, fight Kirill, fight and overcome his recent ordeal.
Jason struggles really then, glaring at Kirill, "What are you doing? Let me go!" He fights hard, kicking out, slipping from the hold as he knows best. Kirill's stronger though.
Kirill scoffs, “Didn’t fight back, did you?” He releases Bourne with a slight shove. Letting all his anger at the trainer and at himself for having to push this sweet boy so cruelly show on his face, the Russian looks up as he strips off his soaked boxers. “Wanted his touch, wanted him, yes?”
He turns his back and walks into the bedroom. All the while anticipating, bracing for, and hoping Jason will attack. Only then can Jason begin to heal the emotional scars, and return to the sunshine and golden boy he… Kirill’s steps stutter …cares for. He cannot think on the emotions swirling within. The odd possessiveness and that something else will have to wait until he can purge them during a long run.
Jason picks up a pillow and flings it at Kirill. Then turns a side table over, scaring Percy. "I'm not a fucking girl." He growls. "Stop treating me like I'm some kind of powerless sap who's going to break because some asshole tried to fuck him. It didn't happen. I didn't want him. He tricked me, goddamit. Don't turn your back on me."
Ducking the pillow easily, Kirill continues nonchalantly to the beds, tossing one more gruff taunt over his shoulder. “Not girl, just boy who climaxed for another.” Pulling the rubber bands from his wet hair, he winces at what he is doing. Again, he deliberately turns his thoughts from *his* Jason reacting to someone else’s touch.
The dark youth nudges the kitten toward her food bowls in the kitchen after a soothing stroke to her back.
"Shut up." Jason clenches his fist. "I didn't." The sob catches in his throat. The towel falls from the boy and he stands there looking lost, unsure what to do. "Don't want him. Didn't want him. Didn't ask him to touch me."
The pain in Jason’s voice lowers Kirill’s shoulders in defeat. He spins and closes the distance between them. “Needed you to release anger, still should,” his fingers cup the blond’s face, thumbs tilting the shorter boy’s chin up for a soft but enveloping kiss.
Jason sinks into the kiss, lips opening willfully to his lover’s, body sagging into Kirill’s as his hands tighten on the other man's shoulders. His knees weaken as he realizes the emotion that's pent up within him ever since Dieter had started to trap him in that hold. When their lips part his eyes meet Kirill's. "I l... Oh fuck." He shudders. 'Kirill. It's you I want. Just you."
“Am yours,” the taller boy rasps. Supporting Jason’s weight, he backs to the nearest bed. Only now, with his lover reacting to his kiss, does Kirill’s body awaken. He sits heavily, pulling Bourne’s muscled thighs around his waist. Their cocks slide against each other, eliciting a moan as his green eyes glitter and darken in passion.
"Kir..." Jason swallows. He's never tried to nickname Kirill's name before. His fingers slide up and down his lover's chest and bunch around his nipple, massaging it. "Need you, but slow, with meaning. Not fast. Love me."
Purring when his nipple responds to Jason’s manipulations, Kirill rocks their bodies together. “Slow, yes…” his hair falls forward as he leans in to nip along Jason’s jaw. Licking the shell of one ear, the taller boy whispers, “Ride, set pace as slow as you can stand.” His long fingers massage the globes of Bourne’s rear, “ride all night, until passion is only thought in minds”.
"I can stand anything when it's you inside me." Jason grins. He suddenly pushes Kirill down on the bed and jumps on top of him. He pulls his lover up so that he can comfortably straddle him and looks down to admire the dark haired youth. His fingers thread through the long locks as he gazes heatedly into the other boy's eyes.
Kirill’s lips quirk in amusement for the first time this evening. On one level he’s not sure if Bourne is past whatever may have happened, but the return of his cheekily forceful golden boy is most welcome. Fumbling under a pillow for the lube, he cants his hips. From this position, his full shaft nudges between Jason’s curvaceous cheeks, precome allowing it to slide along the crease. “Here?” he asks teasingly, “how shall I open?” the dark youth’s eyes glitter with green fire as he licks his lips.
"However you want to." Jason grins. He leans down to flick his fingers over tightening nipples. "Just make sure you do it soon." He positions himself, maneuvering his body so that he's comfortably resting just over Kirill's cock. A shudder ripples through him as he feels it slide.
Dexterously Kirill sits up without dislodging Jason. He wouldn’t have minded flipping his lover over and opening him slowly with tongue and fingers. If his golden boy wants a fast preparation, he’ll do so, and spend the rest of the night buried in Jason’s tight sheath.
Quickly, efficiently the dark boy stretches the other. When three fingers are deep, that’s when he taps against the bundle of nerves deep inside. “Lower yourself, ride as you will.” Kirill’s voice is husky, watching the pleasure crossing Jason’s face.
Jason gives a low soft mewl which makes Percy lift her head with a quizzical expression. He squirms as the fingers play within him and his tongue snakes out to lick his lips. "Oh hell..." He whimpers. "Yeah..." When he's ready to sink onto Kirill's cock he lowers himself carefully.
“Yesss…” Kirill groans as Jason’s body envelops his cock. Other than lightly gripping the blond’s hips, he lets the smaller boy set the pace. He’s still sitting at the edge of the bed and runs a trail of nips along Jason’s shoulder.
Jason lowers himself slowly onto the hard cock, closing his eyes as he feels himself stretched open. This is what he was for, what he needed. He needs Kirill so badly he can feel it in every fiber of his being. Deep down, he knows that he more than cares for this man. Love has no place in their profession, but he can't help it. "Just... let me take it easy." He tells Kirill as he lets out another breath and pushes further again.
Kirill’s breath hitches when Jason settles deeply in his lap. Throbbing cock encased in tight heat, his fingers clench once on Jason’s hips. Already, it’s difficult to retain control and not thrust into his golden lover. He moans and licks at the sweat forming on the freckled skin of Bourne’s shoulder.
Jason's fingers play over Kirill's chest and up and down his neck to twirl around his nipples. He gazes down at his lover pushing downwards until Kirill is finally buried deep within him. The full sensation wipes out the memory of those hands on his cock and he can only focus on Kirill now. That's why he wanted this, why he needs this. Why he needs Kirill more than anything else. Kirill makes him forget. "Beg me to move." His smile becomes playful as he tweaks both of his lover's nipples deliberately.
Moaning again, Kirill tosses the hair out of his eyes. His full lips part as his tongue sweeps out to moisten them. “My body yours,” he rasps, leaning back against the pillows. “Manipulate as you wish.” The fire in his dark eyes counters the passive way he sprawls, crossing his arms over his head.
Jason gazes down at Kirill, "Want it to be good for you too." He whispers, fascinated at the way Kirill's tongue moves. He starts to ride then, just slow at first, tiny movements allowing Kirill to fill him and stretch him. "Yeah..." He murmurs, panting.
Kirill’s eyes flicker, drinking in the gorgeous sight of Jason’s golden skin flushing with heightened desire. “Mine…” slips from his lips as the possessive feeling swells. “Is good always, only if is you…” he pants through his golden boy’s small movements.
A thrill passes through Jason's heart when he hears Kirill say that word. Mine. Yes. His. Every part of him belonged to Kirill, that's what felt so wrong earlier. That's what hurt so much. "Didn't want him," Jason suddenly says, his eyes flashing. "Want you. Only you." He starts to move faster. "OH god... Oh god please, Kirill, I want you faster... please..."
Kirill moves then, gripping Jason’s hips again. “Slow, have all night” he urges. Keeping a firm hold he rolls his hips, letting his cock slide against his lover’s prostate. Jason’s full cock is twitching and leaking onto Kirill’s belly, “Come now?” one hand circles the length, “then last all night?”
"Not yet..." Jason bites his lip. He's not ready to come yet. He needs to feel Kirill deeper. The boy starts to move faster, slamming himself down on Kirill's cock, legs shuddering each time. He grips his lover's shoulders hard, "More, harder..." It's almost as if he's not even -listening- to Kirill and ignoring his own body. "Please..."
“Still,” Kirill orders, keeping Jason in place on his next downward slam. Holding tight to his lover’s hips the Russian rolls, pinning the smaller man beneath him. “Slow… you want slow,” bending the other’s thighs up, he sinks to the hilt within his golden boy’s sheath.
Lowering until he lays fully against Bourne, the dark boy whisper-growls, “Deep now… feel…” the wet waves of Kirill’s hair curtains their faces as he closes in for a kiss. His lower body remains immobile, hoping to calm the blond. They have all night, and he wants his sunshine-golden lover to revel in each long moment.
Jason wiggles underneath Kirill, he closes his eyes and growls low as he feels his lover sink to the hilt. The kiss takes his breath away and he has to gasp for breath while his legs tighten around his lover. He laps out at Kirill’s tongue, trying to keep the other man’s tangled within his mouth. “Don’t make me think.” He implores and lifts up a little to meet the thrust though finds himself completely pinned. “Move, please.”
The taller boy complies with a small shift, just the head of his cock scraping over Jason’s prostate. “Yes, only feel… so full, tight…” he thrusts shallowly again, letting their tongues tangle between his panted words. One arm moves down to hook Jason’s leg over a shoulder. His other tips his lover’s face up so he can drink in the younger boy’s passion.
Kirill hums his pleasure when Jason’s eyes glaze letting the darker youth know no thought beyond their lovemaking fills the blond’s head.
Jason’s eyes glaze as he feels the slow, hard thrusting. His body relaxes under each movement, the sounds that come from him becoming tiny little moans and sharp hitches of breath. He can only think of Kirill, and how his body tingles with pleasure, He can’t hold back the orgasm that ripples through him finally, his warm seed spilling over his lover’s stomach.
“Don’t stop…don’t stop…” He begs even as his insides clench.
A growl comes from low in Kirill’s throat when Jason’s passage squeezes around his shaft. Arms straightening, he lifts his upper body away slightly. Pinning the shuddering man with a passionate gaze, he moves with longer strokes, slowly and steadily. He has no idea how long he can last, just being within Jason’s tight heat plays havoc with his control.
Jason's head is starting to spin with the intensity of the moment. He gasps and whimpers, fingers clenching Kirill as he tries desperately to hold on. Their strength has left him, however, and he tumbles over the edge of bliss to float in the clouds that catch him. Every swift thrust pushes him further into the comfort of those warm and fluffy clouds. He keens a light and soft sound that echoes around the apartment. Percy's ears flatten at the sound, unsure of what to make of it. For Jason, the hurt has been erased and now all he feels is Kirill.
Kirill’s eyes lower to half-mast watching his lover sink further into heightened pleasure. Panting breaths puff from his parted lips with each stroke. His hips stutter as his orgasm builds. The knot of unease about what hurts are still lurking within his golden boy’s soul loosens, until the only thought left to the young Russian is ‘mine’.
“Mine” he pants on the next breath. “Yours” is grunted as his release rushes from his body into the channel clenching his shaft. His arms collapse and he falls into the cradle of Jason’s body, small thrusts fill his lover with his essence, his very soul.
“Yesssss..." Jason cries, holding onto Kirill desperately "Yess, Kirill..." His insides are finally filled with his lover's hot seed, sweeping away every trace or possibility that there could be anyone else. He squeezes and milks his lover, riding him till the very end, "Yours. Only yours."
Gasping, Kirill gathers Jason in shaking arms. His eyes reflect spent passion, and more. His brow furrows in confusion for the strange thoughts and feelings swirling in his head and gut. “Breathe, can’t…” His green eyes search Jason’s face as if it will have an answer to the fist tightening on his heart at the thought of ever being away from this special boy.
Jason's brow furrows into worry as he looks up at Kirill. His fingers massage his lover's chest. "Breathe, Kirill." He directs softly. "Come on...It's alright." He gathers his arms around the other man and presses himself against the dark haired youth, lips close to his. "Take my breath if you need it."
Kirill does, sucking in the unique sun and sand taste of the smaller boy. Plunging his tongue in to search for the special taste of Jason, the tightening in his chest eases. A steady throb of warmth envelops him, calming him. All tension leaves his body until it feels like he’s a boneless mass blanketing the man beneath.
Jason wraps himself around the other man, clinging to him desperately locking in the warmth and heat. They simply hold each other, he is afraid to look into Kirill's eyes. He knows that all the emotion he feels is on his face. He's raw and vulnerable, and Kirill...he makes everything alright. But this can't be happening; he can't be falling in love. He can't -love-. Their work has no place for love. Unfortunately, it was too late. He knew without a shadow of a doubt now that he loved Kirill and needed him "Don't leave me" Jason whispers. "Please. Everyone I l..." Everyone he loved dies.
“Sleep, not leave,” is all Kirill can manage. Any thoughts beyond this moment in time leads to emotions he’s never felt before and cannot comprehend. He rolls to one side, taking Jason with him. He should withdraw from his lover’s depths and clean their bodies. Instead he pulls the duvet around their entwined limbs, cocooning the lovers in warmth.
Jason whimpers and cuddles into Kirill. Exhausted, he finally closes his eyes and leans into Kirill, tightly wrapped around him. As he drifts off to sleep, he voices what's in his heart. "I love you." The words are spoken with sincerity and cannot be mistaken, and they come of their own free will. Finally, Jason sleeps.
On the edge of sleep, Kirill stiffens at the phrase. Love? He’s not worthy of such an illusive emotion, especially from such a special being as his Jason. Not realizing the possessive implications, the dark youth follows his Jason into sleep, a small smile of contentment on his face.
When they finally settle, Percy hops onto the bed. After a short wash and a few turns, she nestles in her dark human’s curve of shoulder and neck. It’s not her preferred place beneath his chin. She’ll let the light one have that favored place, this time.