Forgot to post this here..
This fic is the result of a round robin-type collaboration between me and silver-ruby. In fact, it started with a collaboration-picture. Which in turn was inspired by a stray comment on another picture here in my LJ. X3
Back on my first 411 picture, I got the question if Vexen was wearing a corset because of how his robes fell. While he (to the best of my knowledge...) wasn't, the idea rooted itself hard in my brain and wouldn't budge until I'd drawn it.
So I did. And Silver-ruby declared that such an image needed a Marluxia in it. I told her to make it so, and she added a Marluxia, and by then the madness was bearing fruit and all the ideas turned into a fic.
Which I'm now posting here. u.u
First, the image that started it all...
And then the fic it inspired. X3
Title: Corsets and Cuffs
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Characters: Vexen, Marluxia
Rating: R? NC-17? MA? I'm not very familiar with the American ratings, but there's quite a bit of violence, kink, BDSM and the like, albeit with a bit of snarky humour. Simply put: hardcore yaoi, with bonus kink. X3
Once again, if you're homophobic, squeamish, underage or my mom, please don't click the link.
" Say. Vexen."
" Marluxia."
As ever the ice-elemental's voice was cool and indifferent, though the heat of recent physical activities still radiated comfortably from his body.
" I was thinking. For tomorrow night. ... I’d like you to kink it up a bit for me."
There was a moment of solid silence.
" 'Kink it up'."
The acerbity of the voice strangled all inquisition from the repeated words, leaving them a flat statement. Predictably the older man’s reaction only served to quirk the younger one’s lips into a rather wicked grin.
" Yes. Kink. Something to surprise me. You’re getting predictable. I’m getting bored. A bit of spice. Kink it up."
Vexen gave a derisive scoff.
" Why on earth would I want to do that?"
" As Keeper of Oblivion I could simply order you."
" And as your superior in rank I would refuse. We’ve been through this. Repeatedly. If that’s all you’ve got to-…"
" I’d make it up to you."
" Really. And just how would you do that?"
Vexen turned his head slightly to give the other a contemptuous yet calculating look.
Negotiable, then, not impossible. Promising. Marluxia pursed his lips slightly.
" Naminé?"
A slightly longer silence this time.
" What?"
" You researched memories back in Radiant Garden, didn’t you? Xehanort’s memories, even. I’ll bet you’d like to get your hands on the sweet little witch to see what makes her talents tick. Am I right?"
Research. The guaranteed way to get number Four’s attention.
" How did you know about my work in Radiant Garden?"
Pride and offense mixed in that aloof manner only Vexen could pull off. Marluxia shrugged.
"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer..? Knowledge is power. It pays to study your subordinates’ merits. It’s not as if anyone else was bothering with those old reports, anyway."
It was simply impossible not to jibe the other in hope of a sulky reaction.
Vexen scowled but let it pass, making a move as to sit up, getting ready to leave.
" Not interested. I have enough work with the replica-research as it is. I don’t need any further distractions."
Marluxia laughed scornfully and traced a teasing line across the others’ chest.
" No? Then what are you doing in my bed?"
Vexen scowled, apparently genuinely affronted now, slipped away out of reach to retrieve his uniform coat. Marluxia shrugged.
" Fine, fine. Then what do you want? As Keeper of Castle Oblivion I could probably have all kinds of interesting things brought here in the name of our mutual research."
That made the scientist hesitate, as he had known it would. And as the other would know he had known it would.
Silence again. Marluxia took the chance to study the man; for all their more or less regular fervent struggling encounters, it was rare to have Vexen distracted enough to sit calm and posing nude on his bed.
" Anything?"
" Pretty much. What do you want?"
" I… could always use more samples. Perhaps… Yes. I can get you a list. There are a few things I’ve really been wanting to research further."
" And you’ll kink it up for me?"
Vexen turned to give him a look of pure distilled exasperation and long-suffering resignation.
" Yes. Fine. I’ll ‘kink it up’ for you."
As he returned to his own rooms a while later, the very epitome of cool propriety and dignity once more, Vexen caught himself glancing up at his own face in the mirror. He quirked his lips slightly; disgusted or amused, he didn’t know which himself.
Kink, indeed. How typical of the lowlife neophyte.
He was rather certain he had notes on the subject somewhere, but the basic premise seemed simple enough. A handful of rather predictable variables utilized in the right manner; not too difficult, if hardly decorous. But dignity had stopped mattering as more than a convenient principle a long time ago along with the loss of a heart - and again since coming to Castle Oblivion. Marluxia had had him do worse not too long ago.
He smiled humorlessly at his own reflection. Marluxia might find himself to have bitten off more than he could chew yet again; not even back in Radiant Garden had Even ever been able to back away from a challenge.
And it was for science, after all.
No sacrifice was too great, if it was made in the name of science.
Really.
…
He thumbed his collar thoughtfully. Black leather. One of those basic variables.
It seemed like a good place to start.
***
The same mirror, a day later.
Horror was mercilessly kept in check by scientific detachment and a probably not altogether sound sort of wry amusement. Aside from the usual gargantuan amounts of work, the day had contained the kind of off-world shopping spree that would have been indescribably embarrassing, had he only still been capable to feel such emotion.
Lack of heart was good for something, he supposed. Even would have permanently blushed a darker red than his Master’s cloak if he’d ever found himself in any one of the places Vexen had visited throughout the worlds for the past few hours.
He turned his face slightly, applying eye-shadow with the same diligent focus and neatness he would normally use to perform a volatile experiment or write particularly important notes.
Surprisingly it wasn’t turning out bad at all. Odd, even disturbing, yes, but thankfully a long way from the ridiculous or downright ugly he had half-feared.
The corset was actually not uncomfortable either; there wasn’t much for it to shape, so it only fitted snugly without constraining too much. A not entirely useless support for his back, even; he knew he had a tendency to hunch up when working. Perhaps it could come in useful for more mundane purposes later on.
The Chilly Academic was nothing if not practical.
He was also efficient, and so it was that he even had the time to leaf through a few books, grab a quick snack, perform a minor experiment and scribble down a few accompanying notes before he heard the whisper of a portal open in the next room, and footfalls he’d recognize anywhere approached.
Marluxia had apparently decided the underground laboratory was the most suitable backdrop for his kinky desires. Annoying as such intrusions were, it at least gave him the advantage of being on home turf.
It was with meticulous scientific determination and not much at all of a deranged grin that he perched on a high metal chair, neatly arranging his folded down robes around his hips. As a last minute inspiration he grabbed a test-tube from the nearest table just before his visitor came into view.
And pose…
Marluxia’s confident swagger came to an abrupt halt as he entered the room, and the look on the neophyte’s face invoked the warm glow of satisfaction that only the verification of a hard-worked theory could bring about. The Graceful Assassin was notoriously difficult to surprise, but for a few precious seconds, he looked perfectly flabbergasted.
Encouraged Vexen leaned back slightly, lowering rather heavily painted eye-lids even further.
" Kinky enough for you?"
Husky was easy to pull off, just a tad more breath, a somewhat deeper tone.
Marluxia stood silent, himself wearing only leather pants and boots, a general’s cap jauntily shoved over his unruly hair. The dark blue eyes, first widened in shock, narrowed and swept over him.
Then his face split into a grin, genuinely amused and maliciously lusty at the same time.
" You… never do anything by half-measures, do you?"
Let’s see. Pout. Yes. And another of those smoldering glances.
" Have I ever?"
He twirled the test-tube between long fingers, the all but glowing turquoise contents looking decidedly venomous. He also couldn’t help but notice Marluxia had brought props of his own; a quite wicked-looking whip and those not entirely unfamiliar handcuffs.
Marluxia gave him an appraising gaze with that dark gleam in his eyes that had once meant cruelty, and still did but much more than that now.
" I want to rip those robes off you right here and now," he said conversationally.
Vexen shook his head.
" No you don’t."
Marluxia raised an eyebrow as the older man rose with surprising grace and all but slithered closer.
He stopped a step away, all corset and make-up and hard, bony lines, the half-discarded coat flaring from his hips like a rich leather skirt.
" You actually want to take your time with that."
A chuckle.
" Ah. Of course."
There was a harsh kiss, the usual struggle. While Marluxia’s affinity for flowers was well-known, it had taken quite a bit of subtle research to discover that his apparent preference for pink aside, nothing drove him wild like the scent of violets. Which was incidentally the flavor of the plum-colored lipstick the scientist had studiously picked out for the evening’s endeavor.
It worked.
They broke off rather breathlessly.
" You felt inadequate enough in yourself to bring toys, I see."
Vexen tugged slightly at the handcuffs dangling from the shorter man’s hand to emphasize the mocking words.
" And a whip. I do wonder just on whom you intended it to be used, seeing as how my back is clothed and yours is not. "
And then Marluxia smiled his evil, horrible smile, bit him on the ear and murmured;
" My lovely oh-so-kinky darling, I had not intended to use it on your back."
Vexen cocked an elegantly accentuated eyebrow and studiously set down the test tube.
" Oh…?" he questioned softly, internally slightly distressed; if Marluxia didn’t have an apparent passion for slave-driving, then what? When he didn’t receive an answer he pressed on.
"Well you won’t be needing that."
That being said in a soft, breathy voice, Vexen advanced on Marluxia, walking him backwards, steering the other until the Assassin’s thighs bumped into a cold table.
" Or this."
Taking the handcuff that was dangling off Marluxia’s fingers, he tossed it aside, his lips curling into a smile at the metal clack it made as it collided with the floor.
Marluxia’s eyebrows rose, amused.
" And what brings on this sort of behavior, from you of all people?"
He held his arms up in front of him, in a half-supplicating manner. It earned him a condescending look and an irritated smirk.
" You wanted ‘kink’ didn’t you?" Vexen supplied, taking one of Marluxia’s wrists and pressing it back, deftly strapping it into a leather restraint on the table.
Laboratory examination tables were certainly, certainly in on this one. He strapped the other wrist into another restraint.
Strange. No resistance.
" I must admit I’m surprised you’re not fighting any of this," the scientist stated flatly, looking down at the man he had bent into an uncomfortable position on the table.
Marluxia merely smiled, chuckling.
" Does it bother you that I haven’t? You kinky, kinky man, with all your bondage toys in your lab."
Dark shadows surrounded Marluxia, and Vexen sucked in a surprised breath as the Graceful Assassin disappeared into a dark portal.
A warm hand around his neck almost made him whip around in shock. Almost.
" You’ve been very naughty. I’m putting you under arrest."
Keeping his response in check Vexen half turned before he in turn was bent over and pressed down against the cold metal surface, a soft grunt of surprise escaping his lips.
His eyes widened as familiar cold metal cuffs were fitted around his wrists.
" Creative use of transportation," he commented coldly, rolling his eyes back and tilting his head to look at his captor.
" Silence. All I need to hear are your moans - and cries. Your pleas. Your needs..."
The man’s whisper tickled his ear as the other pressed into his back.
Marluxia ground languidly into Vexen’s hips, the whole motion rolling up his body with a purr.
Setting the long whip beside the Academic’s body, he slid both his hands down the other’s back slowly, nails catching and dragging and scraping down the laced back of the corset.
A soft kiss pressed into the back of a cold neck.
Followed by a bite. Then lower.
Vexen bit his lip and pressed his cheek into the table. Although activities like this happened regularly, distaste was still the first and strongest response to it.
" Is this all? Or did you really put effort into pleasing me? Hmm?" Marluxia asked rhetorically, sliding down to his knees behind Vexen, scraping his teeth across the thin line of flesh where corset met leather.
…
And came in contact with an elastic band.
His mouth pursing in curiosity, he turned his gaze to Vexen’s back, missing the almost victorious smirk on the other’s lips.
Sliding his hands around front, Marluxia unzipped the robe slightly, just enough to slide it down thin hips.
" What’s this..?" he questioned softly, bringing his hands back and hooking his fingers into the bunched up robes, pulled them down slowly.
Exposing skin. Skin. And thin strips of fabric.
Staring with ill-hidden lust, Marluxia almost purred. Entertained was he.
Vexen pulled at the handcuffs slightly; as satisfied as he was with the Assassin’s reactions, the memory of embarrassment flickered in the back of his mind.
At least, this experiment proved to be successful. Successful indeed.
" You are really making your way into my good graces," Marluxia commented breathily, eyes tracing over the line of fabric caressing a hip, plunging between pale, perfect buttocks. Perfect to mar and cover with welts.
" But that doesn’t take away your punishment."
He pressed forward, biting the curve of flesh, tongue swathing over red marks, earning him a slight writhe.
Letting the rest of the robes fall, he really did purr at the sight of lacey fishnet stockings, held up by elastic garters connected to the corset.
" You naughty, naughty thing."
He brought his hand down in a firm spank on the unmarked cheek.
Smirking at the red print that surfaced.
Vexen grunted slightly at the smack, scowling at the humiliating gesture.
" You needn’t treat me like a disobedient child, ‘darling’," he stated derisively.
" I do remember telling you to be silent."
He growled deep in his throat, snarling at the unresponsive metal table.
Getting to his feet, Marluxia pressed a quick kiss to the handprint, then reached over and snatched his whip off the table.
" But I don’t mind if you scream in pain. Or pleasure. Maybe we’ll discover some of your kinks, hmm?"
He smiled into Vexen’s back before stepping back a few meters, hefting the prop in his hand.
Snapping the whip once on the ground beside him he watched Vexen intently, trying to gauge a reaction.
At the sound of leather slapping against linoleum, Vexen flinched visibly.
Most entertaining.
" Maybe you’ll beg me to stop."
He laughed, twisting his wrist before he brought the whip to crack against Vexen’s buttocks, leaving a red welt across.
A sharp cry left Vexen’s throat, and his hands curled up into fists, knuckles turning whiter than already pale skin.
Pain. Definite, unrelenting pain.
Another crack of the whip and he moaned, his eyes squeezing shut.
And another. And another.
" Please… Stop! It’s excruciating-.." the Chilly Academic begged; this was a part of the experiment he had not anticipated. It hurt… so… good?
Another moan tore its way up his throat, and it wasn’t pained.
" -ly good?" Marluxia finished his sentence, purring at the sound he’d forced out of the scientist.
Urged on by the response, he flicked another whip across the other’s thighs, amused at the visible clenching of muscles at impact. He continued.
By the time he stopped "punishing" Vexen, the other was a writhing, moaning mess on the table, bony hands clenching and unclenching, as though the man himself was unsure whether pain or pleasure was the correct reaction.
Lowering the whip Marluxia allowed himself a few sweet moments to revel in the sight before closing the distance between them once again.
" You look a bit flustered," he purred, sliding the whip teasingly between the scientist’s legs, just enough to caress the soft skin along the inside of a thigh. Vexen hissed something unintelligible, still at a certain loss for breath. Heat veritably radiated from the abused skin, warmer than even sex would make him, beautiful patterns of red against pale.
Marluxia chuckled and put the whip down on the table again, more than a little pleased at the thought of that burning skin soon to grind against his own hips.
But as he languidly leaned forward to brush away the blonde hair obscuring his view of the other’s no doubt interestingly wincing face, he suddenly found himself stumbling forwards through empty air, falling none too comfortably against the table even as a shadow portal faded and vice-like hands grabbed and held his own wrists.
" You shouldn’t be careless," said a slightly breathless voice behind him, aiming at chill but not quite succeeding. A click of handcuffs around one of his own wrists now. " Even old dogs can learn a new trick."
Equally amused and annoyed he twisted around on the table to catch the rather displeased look on Vexen’s face, which was conveniently rather close. Another click.
" And being old dogs, they have the experience and wisdom to put them to much better use than wet mongrel puppies such as yourself."
The younger man snorted mockingly even as he felt his hands go numb from cold, a coating of ice securing the handcuffs mercilessly against his wrists.
" Experience? You were a prude, fumbling virgin before I took pity on your deprived…"
He trailed off, the clenching of ice along his arms and hands really quite painful.
But there was that delicious affronted gleam in Vexen’s eyes, the fuming anger and sheer wickedness that only surfaced when he had been pushed far enough to strike back; usually in rather inventive and unexpected ways.
" So you insist on believing. Either way, I have always been an exceptionally fast learner," the scientist stated blandly.
Given the striking make-up and attire, he would have to admit this was true.
" Very well, " Marluxia condescended, turning to face the other. " But just what makes the old dog think I will let him keep me bound?"
Another portal began to form around him, but even as he braced himself to melt into it, lips against his own made him pause.
" Oh, I have it all planned out," Vexen growled, managing to sound lecturing and terse even with his mouth occupied. " Close your eyes, and I will show you."
Surprised, amused Marluxia grinned. Vexen’s lips were hard and cold, but his mouth quite warm, the odd sensation and intensity more than making up for lack of expertise.
Allowing the older man his illusions of control he obediently closed his eyes, kissed back with tongue and bite, knowing he was better at this by far.
And then suddenly there was an intrusion into the kiss, hard cool glass against his lips, liquid in his mouth, and even as he sputtered and swallowed instinctively to be able to breathe, his eyes flew open to see the horribly triumphant smile on Vexen’s face, the test tube from before in his hand, empty now.
" What was that?!"
An odd, too-sweet taste lingered in his mouth, something familiar he couldn’t quite place. Vexen looked horribly smug.
" It probably won’t hurt you much as it is - although the mixture is rather volatile. You probably won’t implode if you try to teleport or use your magic. At least not instantly."
An almost demented tilt to the grin now.
" But do feel free to try. I’ve been curious to learn exactly what would happen."
Marluxia swore and glared, not at all pleased with how his position had suddenly changed. He couldn’t even feel his frozen hands anymore.
Vexen stepped closer, invading his personal space now. Strange how eerily unfamiliar the thin face looked behind the make-up; a painted mask with baleful green eyes, so much more intense framed by sooty black.
Vexen couldn’t help but feel rather pleased as the neophyte shrank back the slightest from him against the table. The petulant scowl on his face revealed that Marluxia really hadn’t anticipated the sudden turn of events, and as always any aggravation on the other’s part was most gratifying.
His backside still stung, albeit from humiliation as much as physical pain, and he determinedly decided there was quite a bit of payback to hand out for that little episode.
" Now be a good puppy. Stay," Vexen commanded in dangerous tone, moving to the side to sift through the pockets of his discarded robe. Smiling to himself, he fished out a length of cord that revealed itself to be a leash with a small length of chain at the end.
" I’m sure you know what this is, Marluxia; it seems to be in your area of expertise."
The younger man stared at the leash for a good few moments, his scowl deepening at the knowledge that he was to be humiliated, as just retribution.
" A choke collar…?" he ventured, eyes never leaving the item dangling from the scientist’s hand.
" Good boy. I knew you would get it," Vexen praised, pressing up against the other’s body to loop the chain over his head, ripping off the cap as he went, flicking it away distastefully as though its mere existence offended him.
Growling slightly at the numbness and pain in his hands, Marluxia let out a small hiss of dismay as Vexen tugged none-too-gently on the leash and brought him to his knees. He looked up at the other, his throat smarting from the choking effect that the chain possessed. Devilish little contraption... Simple, devilish little contraption.
" Now… What shall I do with you, hmm? You own up to a lot, young man," Vexen whispered huskily, his made-up eyes lowering into a sultry gaze. His painted lips curled into a sneer.
" I should make you do every degrading thing you’ve made me do..."
Marluxia glared up at him quietly.
" But I don’t know… should I be merciful..? Should I let you beg?"
He reached down with his free hand, stroking over Marluxia’s head like an owner does a pet.
" Hmm?" Vexen grabbed a handful of fluffy hair, yanking it back. Marluxia’s head snapped back with a broken gasp.
Smiling with malicious amusement Vexen wrapped a length of leash around his hand while keeping a hold of the other’s hair, pulling his arms apart from each other, choking Marluxia, hurting the younger man.
" Want to try asking for mercy now?" he purred, bending down and dragging his lips along the bruising flesh along the chain.
Letting go of grip-crinkled hair, Vexen yanked Marluxia’s face close to his groin, standing before the other with his hips jutted forward slightly.
A little frantic from the pain and lack of air Marluxia pressed forward, nuzzling and kissing along a pale thigh, close to-..
Before he even came in contact with the other’s cloth-enclosed sex, he was yanked back and away.
A rebellious whimper that tapered off into a growl broke from his lips as he gazed up at Vexen, absolute distaste in his gaze.
" You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?" The older man smiled menacingly, jerking on the leash again.
Marluxia winced, one eye shutting slightly as he gritted his teeth.
" Poor puppy." Condescending. Marluxia snarled.
" Down." Another harsh tightening of the chain, and a gasp later Marluxia found himself lying on his chest on the ground, staring at Vexen’s boots.
Vexen’s stiletto boots.
" Stilettos. How darling, I never noticed." Marluxia commented hoarsely, swallowing with trouble.
" It’s amazing the things you notice when you’re on your knees."
As if his pride couldn’t be bruised more at the moment. Marluxia was not pleased.
" Well?" he growled testily.
" Lick." Vexen smiled down at him, grin bordering insane from the angle that Marluxia could see.
" Lick." Marluxia repeated, stupidly, staring up with shock at the incredulous request.
" Yes. Lick my boots. They had better be spotless."
A shiny, booted foot descended with a harsh, echoing stomp next to his face, causing him to jerk aside with a strangled gasp.
" Come on now," the voice continued, teasing as a pointed toe of a boot nudged him in the cheek.
Not even trying to bite back the growl, Marluxia shut his eyes and licked the shoe presented to him hesitantly, looking up at the other for, to his utter displeasure, approval.
Vexen was looking elsewhere, and unable to hide a grunt from irritation, he licked again, a long and slow stroke up the side of the glossy boot, nose wrinkling at the unusual flavor the leather left in his mouth.
" Hmm. I do believe you missed a spot," the scientist sneered, twisting his foot slightly and presenting the other side of the boot.
Marluxia obliged with another angry slow lick.
He was rewarded with another patronizing pat on the head, which only added to his disapproval of the switch in roles.
Gazing up at the older man, he watched Vexen stalk back to the metal chair, and with a painful constricting around his neck, realized much to his chagrin, that he was still attached to the leash and had to crawl in a debasing, ungraceful manner after the other.
Vexen crossed his legs elegantly, his foot held inches away from Marluxia’s face, stiletto heel pointing imposingly at the other.
" Suck on it," he commanded in a low, husky voice, as if referring to something else.
Marluxia stared, dumbfounded at what he was being asked to suck when it wasn’t presented to hi-.. His face curled in distaste at the thought that sprang unbidden to mind.
" That’s it. That’s right. Suck on it." Vexen smiled dangerously, pulling on the leash slightly, bringing Marluxia’s anguished face close to his boot.
With much hesitation and loathing, the younger man opened his mouth, wrapping his lips around the bitter heel of his "master’s" victory, his eyes cinching shut. A sound of disgust could not be prevented from crawling out of his throat as he sucked slightly on the point, pressing forward and taking more of it into his mouth, trying to make a show of something he found absolutely revolting. He opened his eyes to see Vexen staring down at him from behind those painted lids, intent, like a hawk, a predator playing with its prey. That damned sinister smile never left those lips.
A bit too far, he concluded somewhat sullenly. Perhaps pushed a bit too far for even his liking. At least Vexen was fussy enough to keep his lab spotless, and so the boots were mercifully clean.
Eventually growing bored with the show Vexen pulled his boot back, only to place it firmly on the other’s chest with a nasty little kick.
The collar constrained painfully again as he was pushed backwards, sprawled on the floor. Gasping he squirmed to get back on his knees, but Vexen stood and moved to his side, accursed boot placed again firmly on his chest, pinning him down. What he could still feel of his arms ached and throbbed dully under him, and a part of him wondered with certain mortification if it was possible for flesh to freeze so cold it could actually shatter.
Vexen smirked down at the Assassin, practically glowing with satisfaction. The slight power trip had gone to his head, and his interests in the other were tilting towards the carnal; Marluxia looked so delicious lying prone, bruised, pained… So helpless, so submissive.
Marluxia wondered if he had unconsciously made a noise, for a fraction of a second later, Vexen was kneeling at his side, cupping his face, stroking his cheek, cooing. Condescendingly, of all things. Just how he did manage to sound so pretentious yet kind, he would never know.
" Now the poor puppy’s had enough, hmm?"
A cold hand slid down to grip him between the legs, squeezing, kneading, working him to pants and gasps. His eyes squeezed shut and grit his teeth. He wouldn’t reward the other with a sound.
Cold hands unzipping his pants then plunging inside forced a gasp out of his throat. He arched his back, a grunt of pain following the gasp as his arms strained and cramped, still bound, still numb and frozen.
" Vex-" His voice died in his throat as a hot, moist mouth descended on him, enveloping him in blinding pleasure.
Eyes snapping open with a soft, strangled moan, Marluxia looked down watching, fascinated, as Vexen played with him, tongue teasing, tempting, torturing. His head fell back with a snap of his teeth, a frustrated growl tearing from him as he lifted his hips slightly, trying to get more. Just a little more...
Then cold. Really, really cold.
" Wha-?" Marluxia looked back down to see a lusty, evil smile on Vexen’s lips. The other had pressed a finger to the base of his sex, and what appeared to be a ring of ice was growing around- Cold!
" A ‘cock-ring’? W-w-why Vexen, I d-didn’t know you were s-so kinky." Marluxia shivered, he couldn’t keep his teeth from chattering as he snarled cynically.
" You c-certainly are outd-doing yourself."
" I know... aren’t you pleased? I am," Vexen responded coolly, slowly undoing the younger man’s boots and sliding them off, pleased that the other was squirming like a trapped rat. ‘Blue-balls’ certainly seemed an uncomfortable thing, especially when interpreted so literally. He chuckled to himself, much to Marluxia’s annoyance.
Suddenly his previous concern about frozen, shattering flesh felt very pressing. The same dull, aching numbness that engulfed what he could still feel of his arms began spreading between his legs, and he whimpered and squirmed. Vexen’s dark smirk didn’t help things at all, either, and he seethed in helpless resentment.
The man should by all reason look ridiculous in his corset and fishnets and make up, he should have been flustered and out of his depth at the mere suggestion! He certainly should not be able to look regal, imposing and insufferably irresistible - and he most definitely should not have been able to ever, ever get the Graceful Assassin into a compromised position such as this one, ever.
And sweet darkness, even through the pain there shouldn’t be such ravaging pleasure as that warm tongue returned to tease him, burning hot against the spreading cold.
To see Marluxia writhing helplessly beneath him was starkly satisfying on so many different levels, Vexen concluded. The occasional defiant growl or hiss confirmed that the neophyte’s helpless responses were quite involuntary, and getting to play the puppet-master for once was really very enjoyable.
What he had said to Marluxia was true; he always had been a fast learner, addicted to knowledge and striving for excellence in any subject he turned his hungry mind to. He would watch in detached silence, observe, study, come to conclusions in contemplative solitude; and then more often than not being proved absolutely right once putting his theories to the test.
This was no different. Nor was the outcome.
Breathless, disheveled, squirming on the floor, Marluxia helpfully verified every little hypothesis thrown at him through muffled moans and gasps.
The one thing he hadn’t anticipated was his own increasing lack of detachment. What previous self-consciousness at proximity and nakedness a scientist could maintain had been rather efficiently ground away after those countless nights in Marluxia’s bed - yet to actually find any personal physical pleasure in such encounters was a rare occurrence.
Still he couldn’t deny that having the intolerable creature so fully at his mercy was quite arousing, or the unanticipated effect those strangled sighs were having on him.
He licked, sucked, touched, using ice to hurt and bring pleasure, caressing, clawing and squeezing. Wanting, needing more of those breathless screams.
Movements meticulously calculated and neat stripped the last pieces of clothing from the other, baring more burning flower-scented skin to taste and hurt.
Marluxia shivered uncontrollably by now, from cold and pain and pulse and that most wondrously inspired touch. Damn inventive scientists!
His hair was plastered against his face, which was strange, because the air was so chilly he shouldn’t be sweating, chilly enough to bring goose bumps to his skin and make his nipples so stiff they hurt.
And then he arched his back and cried out loud as long fingers thickly coated in ice pressed into him, slippery and hard and cold.
They pulled back, the ice melted from his body heat relentlessly replenished, then another was added as they slid deep into him again. He couldn’t have refused them entry even had he wanted to; the slick ice so slippery and lubricated it met with no resistance at all. He jerked at the touch, enthralled, then winced in protest as the cold slowly turned him numb, made that staggering sensation fade.
" Vexen!" he gasped, then squeezed his eyes shut in pain as the other bit down hard on a nipple. The feeling of that blonde hair dragging across his chest drove him wild, and it was several seconds before he found his voice again.
" Vexen, it’s too cold… I can’t feel…"
The older man pulled back a little, looked down at him with aloof disdain in his accentuated green eyes.
" Is that so? Well. That would indeed have been a pity - had any of this been for your pleasure."
But he relented, letting the ice around his fingers slowly melt away, moving them in the most fascinating way deep inside, giving the smallest smirk at Marluxia’s resulting outcry.
The sudden shudder and moan was overwhelmingly arousing, and Vexen too shuddered, unable to fight back the involuntary response. He stroked his fingers again in the same manner, earning himself a violent arch and yowl from Marluxia. He almost purred.
Marluxia turned and gritted his teeth, fighting back another loud cry as the scientist continued to press and rub inside him, continually, in that infuriatingly sensitive spot.
" Ah-" Violent thrashing of his head.
" Feel free to cry out... In fact, do keep screaming, Marluxia. You’re here in my laboratory after all… No one can hear you scream." Vexen smirked, thoroughly amused.
" Oh gods-" Marluxia gasped, his voice catching in his throat and his back arching so violently it looked like he would snap in two. His toes were curling and his legs felt rigid, the inexplicable cold in his lower abdomen surging in between waves of hot pleasure lancing up from between his legs.
" Who’s crying out like a chaste, virginal maiden now?" Vexen jabbed, forcing another finger inside, spreading.
Marluxia threw the scientist a most hateful glare, his eyes wavering at the stab of pleasure and pain.
" I am- nngh- Not a virgin. Don’t compare me to that." Of course his words would come back and bite him, quite literally, in the ass. He averted his face slightly, mouth hanging open in breathless pants.
However, the seemingly unsure lilt in the other’s tone convinced Vexen otherwise. He knew how to read people, he had studied human psychology.
" Liar."
The one word made Marluxia’s head snap back, growl in his throat. How dare Vexen assume that he-
" You have never let yourself get bent over by another man, have you."
His protest died in his throat, staring, half in horror half in shock that Vexen of all people, could tell.
" You just love being in control," that spitefully apathetic voice drawled slowly as cold fingers continued to pump into him, making his eyes flutter, forcing noises out of his body that he would never have made had he been on top.
Breathless, Marluxia tried to push Vexen away, but realized he couldn’t, his arms were still caught under him, he just couldn’t feel them! So cold and numb were they, he practically forgot they were there-
" Vexen, my arms!" he cried out softly, trying to change the subject; he didn’t like where Vexen’s rhetorical inquisition was going.
" You hate it when your control is taken from you."
Green eyes held blue in a sharp stare that meant everything and nothing. Those hatefully pleasurable fingers were pulled out, and he fought violently not to whimper in disappointment.
" You hate it when power is just out of your reach."
He watched, silently fascinated as Vexen shifted onto fish netted knees, his gaze drawn to the other’s obvious arousal.
" You hate it when you aren’t the leader in any given task."
He watched as Vexen undid the corset, painted eyes never leaving his face, never giving him a chance to recover his pride.
" You hate it when you aren’t subjugating others to your whim."
Marluxia almost forgot to breathe as numbness fogged his mind and he was prompted into a sharp intake of breath, much like a gasp, which was rewarded with a sinister smile.
" You hate it when you have to submit. Don’t you?"
The rustle of fabric aside, the Assassin was so torn between being displeased and pleased at the sight of Vexen on top of him, on hands beside his hips and knees between his legs, he couldn’t help but whimper piteously.
" Now tell me… is my analysis of you correct; or must I run a few more tests…?" Vexen absolutely purred, his voice deep and husky with ill-hidden lust. His fingers, those damnable, talented, precise fingers raking up and down, teasing his need unrelentingly.
" I..I-" Marluxia could barely get his voice out of his throat, his body empty, needy, his desire for release overwhelming. He shook his head, as if trying to clear certain dirty thoughts out of his head.
Vexen smiled smugly, most satisfied with how he had reduced his "superior" into a quivering mass of want. Without a word of warning, he grabbed Marluxia’s shoulder, wrenching the other over onto their side. He knew Marluxia’s arms were beyond use now, so he had no fear of retribution.
Unfreezing the bound limbs, he cracked the frozen chain of the metal cuffs, chuckling at the panicked bucking Marluxia produced, probably thinking him demented enough to be snapping his frozen fingers off one by one.
" Oh don’t worry, I won’t mar the perfect complexion that you are ever so vain about," the scientist purred, throwing the other back on his back.
Marluxia gasped as blood rushed back into his hands, like pins and needles, hot and painful. He gritted his teeth and writhed in discomfort, only to moan in complaint as his arms were grabbed and spread out to his sides.
" Just what are you-…"
He was silenced by a cold finger on his lips, ice forming over his mouth, and he made a panicked thrash, only to be held down by the shoulders, limbs out of commission.
" Shh. Let me do my work. I only want to hear your moans and screams - not whatever protest springs unbidden to mind," Vexen whispered, pressing his hands to the cold floor and forming two blocks of ice, cemented to the ground, wrapped around the metal handcuffs and frostbitten wrists once again.
With a snap of his fingers, the thin layer of ice over Marluxia’s jaw shattered and melted onto heated, flushed skin, allowing Marluxia to cry out once again in discomfort and pain, the abused muscles of his arms clenching and cramping spasmodically.
" Vexen, I swear," he managed to grit out, genuine danger lurking beneath breathless desire, " If you do me any permanent damage…"
And he drowned in the intense green eyes suddenly so very close to his own, turned his head slightly when prompted to grant better access as the older man calmly licked molten ice and tears from his face. A haughty sneer between licks and bites.
" Shush, now. I know exactly what I’m doing."
A smirk.
" Can’t you tell?"
And had he thought himself able to form coherent words he would have been forced to agree, but Vexen was over him again, those hands sliding up from his hips along his sides, firm and tangible, and warm tongue and cold lips nuzzled against his throat, and the texture of lace tinted the sensation of skin against his thighs as he spread his legs helplessly, and closeness, and touch, and even coherent thought was becoming really quite difficult.
Bound again, albeit in a marginally more comfortable manner, there was nothing he could do as those hands touched him, held him firmly, thumbs rubbing at already sore and sensitive nipples. Refusing, simply refusing to go down without one last fight he responded in the only way he could, arching his back, raising his legs to rub slowly against Vexen’s narrow hips with his thighs and knees.
A scythe was a difficult weapon to wield, not really all that well suited for combat; to be able to use one gracefully, or even decently you needed agility and strong legs. He just so happened to have both.
Vexen didn’t really stand a chance as the Assassin caught the slim body on top of him between his thighs, clenched mercilessly, wrapping his legs firmly around the other and pulling him down.
Even in his helpless state he found the look on the scientist’s face priceless, languid eyes suddenly flung wide open, a hissed gasp between clenched teeth.
He held on tight, grinding his crotch against the other, pressing his thighs together until Vexen squirmed, his face contorted in annoyance and pain and more.
With his legs apart and the academic firmly pressed down against him there was nothing between their writing bodies but the flimsy piece of underwear, growing increasingly frustrating as he found himself needing touch, hardness against hardness, skin against skin.
But before he could even begin to voice his frustration Vexen gave a low growl and reached down to simply rip off the offensive garment himself, too impatient and flustered to even attempt removing it properly.
They both gasped in unison as the cloth was torn away and flesh both hot and cold, velvet soft and relentless hard met, the most impossible, wonderful sensation.
Vexen gave a barely audible groan, capturing Marluxia’s face between both hands, his fingers in the other’s hair, holding him still to steal all the brutal kisses he wanted, his breathing somewhat labored. Rather than fighting him the younger man returned the kisses, equally breathless, ravenous, so warm inside and out it seemed to burn him, their mouths battling for superiority.
Too far gone to uphold his strength for long Marluxia gave one last cruel squeeze of his legs, tearing a most rewarding groan of pain from his lover before slowly relaxing, trembling with adrenaline and pulse, letting his legs spread open in dignified defeat.
Vexen shifted slightly on top of him, nimble but trembling fingers finding his entrance again, melting ice wetting and preparing him. Refusing to give in to hollow apprehension he sucked hard on the blonde’s lower lip, a feeble but needed illusion of control, gracious consent, as though if he said no Vexen wouldn’t push against him like so, entering, claiming, and darkness help me, stop it, stop it stop never stop yes yes yes…
With Marluxia mewling like a cat in heat, Vexen gritted his teeth, lips set in a determined smirk, hands gripping hips hard enough to leave marks as he moved in and out of the other, his own voice harmonizing with the assassin’s in groans and grunts.
Now to make the other scream... ah, that took a different tactic. Pulling out almost all the way, Vexen shushed the unhappy whimper that escaped the younger man’s lips at the sudden loss of heat deep inside him.
" It will get better. I promise," the scientist whispered huskily, grabbing Marluxia’s knees and lifting the legs, setting them on his shoulders, shifting the angle of entry completely. He sat still for a while longer, savoring the impatient glare the assassin threw him.
" Get on with it," Marluxia growled, before his head thumped back with a deep gasp. Vexen had pushed into him with a deep, hard thrust, halting all movement as he was fully sheathed.
Amused with the reaction he pulled out and slammed home again, thrusting up to brush right against, if not into, that spot he knew would make the other’s toes curl, vision go white.
The assassin absolutely howled at the sensation, his legs tensing, eyes squeezing shut. The scientist watched, amused, at the straining, powerful shoulders beneath him, trying to break out of the restraints he himself had set.
In, out, in, out, deep, hard, fast-
" Are you alright?" Vexen teased, stopping all movement, although the heat coiled in his abdomen protested violently, wanted release… He bit the inside of his cheek slightly to distract himself.
" Why did you stop?!" Marluxia wailed, almost desperate, chest heaving as he sucked in sobbing breaths.
" What do you want?" Cold hands gripped well muscled thighs roughly, nails digging into the hard flesh, leaving bruised half-moon furrows.
" You know what I want."
" I know that you know that I know."
" Would you stop playi-.." Marluxia was silenced by a well-placed thrust, leaving him breathless.
" I want you to say it."
" Say wha- unngh!" Another distracting plunge deep inside.
" What do you want?" A patient, sinister smile graced Vexen’s lips as he held still once again, hands stroking up and down the other’s thighs.
" How do you want me to sa- aa~Ah!"
" Stop being coy. What do you want me to do to you?"
Vexen rolled his hips slightly, earning a frustrated moan from the younger man.
" Fuck me." Marluxia turned his head to the side, unable to meet the other’s gaze as he murmured. Damnable scientist, not about to let him get away with any shreds of dignity. He was sure he wasn’t going to be able to salvage any bits after this session in the lab.
" What was that? I’m sorry, I must be getting old, I didn’t hear you clearly." Vexen cocked his head to the side, bringing a hand up to his ear, doing a poor imitation of an old deaf man.
Marluxia growled angrily. His body was like a tightly wound spring; he felt like he could burst any moment, but it was just being held back by the lack of… well, friction, and the cold, cold ring of ice around his genitals.
" I want you… to… fuck me."
He glared resolutely at the other, grinding his demand out between his teeth.
" Duck me? I have no idea what that is… But I guess I’ll have to go and look it up..." Vexen made as to pull out.
" No no no! FUCK me! Just fuck me already, Vexen-... Please! Fuck me, fuck me, FUCK ME!"
Dignity well out the proverbial window Marluxia begged as he strained, surged against the bindings, his face in a pitiable expression as he looked as if he couldn’t decide to be desperate or angry. He was rewarded with a sneer.
Then Vexen obliged. Repeatedly.
His throat was sore from yelling, and yet it was hard to keep from screaming as the other moved in him, touching so very deep, brutal yet gentle, cold, hot, relentless. The gaunt face had never been more beautiful than now, with its slightly smeared make-up, framed by ruffled hair, expression so tight and focused, gaze strangely possessive.
A slight change of angle again and he did scream, head thrown back, over and over, couldn’t help himself, couldn’t bring himself to care.
Vexen grit his teeth, struggling for self-control even as the younger man writhed beneath him, heated skin rubbing against his own, Marluxia’s unique scent of man and flowers all around, drawn in with every gasping breath.
Tight. Warm. Arrogant smirk finally replaced with naked need and helpless desire.
There was beauty in that helplessness. Deep gratifying satisfaction in victory.
He could afford to be gracious now.
Could be rough and gentle and deeper, harder, more, now, now, now, just as the other begged, in gasped strangled pleas.
Could even pretend to care, feign affection; kiss, mark, bruise, claim, own.
Marluxia broken was not nearly as insufferable.
Damn, tight!
He hissed, fighting a losing battle against himself, shivering as taut restraint was frayed around the edges by urges ever deeper, need so intense it almost frightened him.
He struggled, focusing on rhythm, trying to keep his mind clear and cool as always, but the sensation of Marluxia beneath him, around him, squeezing him…
The Assassin gave a scream, primitive, furious and pitiful at the same time, his entire body suddenly tense to the point of breaking, quivering violently with each hard thrust.
One look at the other’s face shattered all attempts at self-control, and with a low growl he gave in, calculated rhythm faltering, changing, thrusts violent and fast, and darkness have pity on our wretched souls I never realized and so close and so tight and so hot and yes, yes, yes…
Marluxia screamed again, as from intolerable pain, and he too cried out, stiffened, the sensation seemingly too intense for their fragile existence to bear, and certainly, certainly this must be death, blinding darkness, searing light, too much…
He finally collapsed over the younger man, lungs burning, hollow emptiness in his chest reverberating painfully with the explosive release. It rather hurt.
He heard Marluxia gasping for breath as well, felt the other’s chest heave beneath him, feathery flower-scented hair ticking his face, nearly choking him.
There would be much, no doubt, to consider later.
Not right now, though. Analysis without detachment was by principle flawed from the start, and entwined as he was, ‘detachment’ seemed nowhere near a proper term to apply to the situation.
Later, then.
He kept his eyes closed, breathed, content for the time being.
Eventually felt Marluxia stir somewhat.
" Say. Vexen."
Voice still somewhat hoarse, but no longer furious or desperate. Thoughtful if anything.
" Yes. Marluxia," he managed to grunt. A short moment of silence.
" What was in the test-tube?"
He couldn’t help but grin slightly against the Assassin’s shoulder.
" Water. Unhealthy doses of sugar, color and artificial flavors. And sea-salt."
Another silence, quite a bit longer.
" Sea-salt."
" Yes."
Another pause.
" You force-fed me sea-salt ice cream?"
No matter how pleasantly drowsy he might feel he propped himself up on an elbow to be able to see Marluxia’s face. Gave his best aloof drawl.
" Yes. It was supposed to be my dessert, but you interrupted me before I could freeze it."
The look on Marluxia’s face really was perfectly precious.
After quite a while of struggling expressions, amusement finally seemed to win over disbelief, rage and mortification.
" I… almost suspected as much."
He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that.
" Really? Then why pretend fighting?"
Marluxia scowled slightly.
" Well, I could hardly be certain - it was you who gave it to me, after all."
" I thought you said I was getting predictable."
It was quite enjoyable to see the other widen his eyes and gasp as he moved ever so slightly, still buried inside.
" Sometimes… you’re not. Really not."
A small victory in itself. Unfortunately the moment of triumph was short-lived, reluctant admission replaced by that wicked thoughtful look again.
" So, Vexen…"
A wary glare.
" Yes?"
A most sinful grin graced the beautifully bruised lips.
" About tomorrow night…"
~and so it never ends.
Back on my first 411 picture, I got the question if Vexen was wearing a corset because of how his robes fell. While he (to the best of my knowledge...) wasn't, the idea rooted itself hard in my brain and wouldn't budge until I'd drawn it.
So I did. And Silver-ruby declared that such an image needed a Marluxia in it. I told her to make it so, and she added a Marluxia, and by then the madness was bearing fruit and all the ideas turned into a fic.
Which I'm now posting here. u.u
First, the image that started it all...
And then the fic it inspired. X3
Title: Corsets and Cuffs
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Characters: Vexen, Marluxia
Rating: R? NC-17? MA? I'm not very familiar with the American ratings, but there's quite a bit of violence, kink, BDSM and the like, albeit with a bit of snarky humour. Simply put: hardcore yaoi, with bonus kink. X3
Once again, if you're homophobic, squeamish, underage or my mom, please don't click the link.
" Say. Vexen."
" Marluxia."
As ever the ice-elemental's voice was cool and indifferent, though the heat of recent physical activities still radiated comfortably from his body.
" I was thinking. For tomorrow night. ... I’d like you to kink it up a bit for me."
There was a moment of solid silence.
" 'Kink it up'."
The acerbity of the voice strangled all inquisition from the repeated words, leaving them a flat statement. Predictably the older man’s reaction only served to quirk the younger one’s lips into a rather wicked grin.
" Yes. Kink. Something to surprise me. You’re getting predictable. I’m getting bored. A bit of spice. Kink it up."
Vexen gave a derisive scoff.
" Why on earth would I want to do that?"
" As Keeper of Oblivion I could simply order you."
" And as your superior in rank I would refuse. We’ve been through this. Repeatedly. If that’s all you’ve got to-…"
" I’d make it up to you."
" Really. And just how would you do that?"
Vexen turned his head slightly to give the other a contemptuous yet calculating look.
Negotiable, then, not impossible. Promising. Marluxia pursed his lips slightly.
" Naminé?"
A slightly longer silence this time.
" What?"
" You researched memories back in Radiant Garden, didn’t you? Xehanort’s memories, even. I’ll bet you’d like to get your hands on the sweet little witch to see what makes her talents tick. Am I right?"
Research. The guaranteed way to get number Four’s attention.
" How did you know about my work in Radiant Garden?"
Pride and offense mixed in that aloof manner only Vexen could pull off. Marluxia shrugged.
"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer..? Knowledge is power. It pays to study your subordinates’ merits. It’s not as if anyone else was bothering with those old reports, anyway."
It was simply impossible not to jibe the other in hope of a sulky reaction.
Vexen scowled but let it pass, making a move as to sit up, getting ready to leave.
" Not interested. I have enough work with the replica-research as it is. I don’t need any further distractions."
Marluxia laughed scornfully and traced a teasing line across the others’ chest.
" No? Then what are you doing in my bed?"
Vexen scowled, apparently genuinely affronted now, slipped away out of reach to retrieve his uniform coat. Marluxia shrugged.
" Fine, fine. Then what do you want? As Keeper of Castle Oblivion I could probably have all kinds of interesting things brought here in the name of our mutual research."
That made the scientist hesitate, as he had known it would. And as the other would know he had known it would.
Silence again. Marluxia took the chance to study the man; for all their more or less regular fervent struggling encounters, it was rare to have Vexen distracted enough to sit calm and posing nude on his bed.
" Anything?"
" Pretty much. What do you want?"
" I… could always use more samples. Perhaps… Yes. I can get you a list. There are a few things I’ve really been wanting to research further."
" And you’ll kink it up for me?"
Vexen turned to give him a look of pure distilled exasperation and long-suffering resignation.
" Yes. Fine. I’ll ‘kink it up’ for you."
As he returned to his own rooms a while later, the very epitome of cool propriety and dignity once more, Vexen caught himself glancing up at his own face in the mirror. He quirked his lips slightly; disgusted or amused, he didn’t know which himself.
Kink, indeed. How typical of the lowlife neophyte.
He was rather certain he had notes on the subject somewhere, but the basic premise seemed simple enough. A handful of rather predictable variables utilized in the right manner; not too difficult, if hardly decorous. But dignity had stopped mattering as more than a convenient principle a long time ago along with the loss of a heart - and again since coming to Castle Oblivion. Marluxia had had him do worse not too long ago.
He smiled humorlessly at his own reflection. Marluxia might find himself to have bitten off more than he could chew yet again; not even back in Radiant Garden had Even ever been able to back away from a challenge.
And it was for science, after all.
No sacrifice was too great, if it was made in the name of science.
Really.
…
He thumbed his collar thoughtfully. Black leather. One of those basic variables.
It seemed like a good place to start.
***
The same mirror, a day later.
Horror was mercilessly kept in check by scientific detachment and a probably not altogether sound sort of wry amusement. Aside from the usual gargantuan amounts of work, the day had contained the kind of off-world shopping spree that would have been indescribably embarrassing, had he only still been capable to feel such emotion.
Lack of heart was good for something, he supposed. Even would have permanently blushed a darker red than his Master’s cloak if he’d ever found himself in any one of the places Vexen had visited throughout the worlds for the past few hours.
He turned his face slightly, applying eye-shadow with the same diligent focus and neatness he would normally use to perform a volatile experiment or write particularly important notes.
Surprisingly it wasn’t turning out bad at all. Odd, even disturbing, yes, but thankfully a long way from the ridiculous or downright ugly he had half-feared.
The corset was actually not uncomfortable either; there wasn’t much for it to shape, so it only fitted snugly without constraining too much. A not entirely useless support for his back, even; he knew he had a tendency to hunch up when working. Perhaps it could come in useful for more mundane purposes later on.
The Chilly Academic was nothing if not practical.
He was also efficient, and so it was that he even had the time to leaf through a few books, grab a quick snack, perform a minor experiment and scribble down a few accompanying notes before he heard the whisper of a portal open in the next room, and footfalls he’d recognize anywhere approached.
Marluxia had apparently decided the underground laboratory was the most suitable backdrop for his kinky desires. Annoying as such intrusions were, it at least gave him the advantage of being on home turf.
It was with meticulous scientific determination and not much at all of a deranged grin that he perched on a high metal chair, neatly arranging his folded down robes around his hips. As a last minute inspiration he grabbed a test-tube from the nearest table just before his visitor came into view.
And pose…
Marluxia’s confident swagger came to an abrupt halt as he entered the room, and the look on the neophyte’s face invoked the warm glow of satisfaction that only the verification of a hard-worked theory could bring about. The Graceful Assassin was notoriously difficult to surprise, but for a few precious seconds, he looked perfectly flabbergasted.
Encouraged Vexen leaned back slightly, lowering rather heavily painted eye-lids even further.
" Kinky enough for you?"
Husky was easy to pull off, just a tad more breath, a somewhat deeper tone.
Marluxia stood silent, himself wearing only leather pants and boots, a general’s cap jauntily shoved over his unruly hair. The dark blue eyes, first widened in shock, narrowed and swept over him.
Then his face split into a grin, genuinely amused and maliciously lusty at the same time.
" You… never do anything by half-measures, do you?"
Let’s see. Pout. Yes. And another of those smoldering glances.
" Have I ever?"
He twirled the test-tube between long fingers, the all but glowing turquoise contents looking decidedly venomous. He also couldn’t help but notice Marluxia had brought props of his own; a quite wicked-looking whip and those not entirely unfamiliar handcuffs.
Marluxia gave him an appraising gaze with that dark gleam in his eyes that had once meant cruelty, and still did but much more than that now.
" I want to rip those robes off you right here and now," he said conversationally.
Vexen shook his head.
" No you don’t."
Marluxia raised an eyebrow as the older man rose with surprising grace and all but slithered closer.
He stopped a step away, all corset and make-up and hard, bony lines, the half-discarded coat flaring from his hips like a rich leather skirt.
" You actually want to take your time with that."
A chuckle.
" Ah. Of course."
There was a harsh kiss, the usual struggle. While Marluxia’s affinity for flowers was well-known, it had taken quite a bit of subtle research to discover that his apparent preference for pink aside, nothing drove him wild like the scent of violets. Which was incidentally the flavor of the plum-colored lipstick the scientist had studiously picked out for the evening’s endeavor.
It worked.
They broke off rather breathlessly.
" You felt inadequate enough in yourself to bring toys, I see."
Vexen tugged slightly at the handcuffs dangling from the shorter man’s hand to emphasize the mocking words.
" And a whip. I do wonder just on whom you intended it to be used, seeing as how my back is clothed and yours is not. "
And then Marluxia smiled his evil, horrible smile, bit him on the ear and murmured;
" My lovely oh-so-kinky darling, I had not intended to use it on your back."
Vexen cocked an elegantly accentuated eyebrow and studiously set down the test tube.
" Oh…?" he questioned softly, internally slightly distressed; if Marluxia didn’t have an apparent passion for slave-driving, then what? When he didn’t receive an answer he pressed on.
"Well you won’t be needing that."
That being said in a soft, breathy voice, Vexen advanced on Marluxia, walking him backwards, steering the other until the Assassin’s thighs bumped into a cold table.
" Or this."
Taking the handcuff that was dangling off Marluxia’s fingers, he tossed it aside, his lips curling into a smile at the metal clack it made as it collided with the floor.
Marluxia’s eyebrows rose, amused.
" And what brings on this sort of behavior, from you of all people?"
He held his arms up in front of him, in a half-supplicating manner. It earned him a condescending look and an irritated smirk.
" You wanted ‘kink’ didn’t you?" Vexen supplied, taking one of Marluxia’s wrists and pressing it back, deftly strapping it into a leather restraint on the table.
Laboratory examination tables were certainly, certainly in on this one. He strapped the other wrist into another restraint.
Strange. No resistance.
" I must admit I’m surprised you’re not fighting any of this," the scientist stated flatly, looking down at the man he had bent into an uncomfortable position on the table.
Marluxia merely smiled, chuckling.
" Does it bother you that I haven’t? You kinky, kinky man, with all your bondage toys in your lab."
Dark shadows surrounded Marluxia, and Vexen sucked in a surprised breath as the Graceful Assassin disappeared into a dark portal.
A warm hand around his neck almost made him whip around in shock. Almost.
" You’ve been very naughty. I’m putting you under arrest."
Keeping his response in check Vexen half turned before he in turn was bent over and pressed down against the cold metal surface, a soft grunt of surprise escaping his lips.
His eyes widened as familiar cold metal cuffs were fitted around his wrists.
" Creative use of transportation," he commented coldly, rolling his eyes back and tilting his head to look at his captor.
" Silence. All I need to hear are your moans - and cries. Your pleas. Your needs..."
The man’s whisper tickled his ear as the other pressed into his back.
Marluxia ground languidly into Vexen’s hips, the whole motion rolling up his body with a purr.
Setting the long whip beside the Academic’s body, he slid both his hands down the other’s back slowly, nails catching and dragging and scraping down the laced back of the corset.
A soft kiss pressed into the back of a cold neck.
Followed by a bite. Then lower.
Vexen bit his lip and pressed his cheek into the table. Although activities like this happened regularly, distaste was still the first and strongest response to it.
" Is this all? Or did you really put effort into pleasing me? Hmm?" Marluxia asked rhetorically, sliding down to his knees behind Vexen, scraping his teeth across the thin line of flesh where corset met leather.
…
And came in contact with an elastic band.
His mouth pursing in curiosity, he turned his gaze to Vexen’s back, missing the almost victorious smirk on the other’s lips.
Sliding his hands around front, Marluxia unzipped the robe slightly, just enough to slide it down thin hips.
" What’s this..?" he questioned softly, bringing his hands back and hooking his fingers into the bunched up robes, pulled them down slowly.
Exposing skin. Skin. And thin strips of fabric.
Staring with ill-hidden lust, Marluxia almost purred. Entertained was he.
Vexen pulled at the handcuffs slightly; as satisfied as he was with the Assassin’s reactions, the memory of embarrassment flickered in the back of his mind.
At least, this experiment proved to be successful. Successful indeed.
" You are really making your way into my good graces," Marluxia commented breathily, eyes tracing over the line of fabric caressing a hip, plunging between pale, perfect buttocks. Perfect to mar and cover with welts.
" But that doesn’t take away your punishment."
He pressed forward, biting the curve of flesh, tongue swathing over red marks, earning him a slight writhe.
Letting the rest of the robes fall, he really did purr at the sight of lacey fishnet stockings, held up by elastic garters connected to the corset.
" You naughty, naughty thing."
He brought his hand down in a firm spank on the unmarked cheek.
Smirking at the red print that surfaced.
Vexen grunted slightly at the smack, scowling at the humiliating gesture.
" You needn’t treat me like a disobedient child, ‘darling’," he stated derisively.
" I do remember telling you to be silent."
He growled deep in his throat, snarling at the unresponsive metal table.
Getting to his feet, Marluxia pressed a quick kiss to the handprint, then reached over and snatched his whip off the table.
" But I don’t mind if you scream in pain. Or pleasure. Maybe we’ll discover some of your kinks, hmm?"
He smiled into Vexen’s back before stepping back a few meters, hefting the prop in his hand.
Snapping the whip once on the ground beside him he watched Vexen intently, trying to gauge a reaction.
At the sound of leather slapping against linoleum, Vexen flinched visibly.
Most entertaining.
" Maybe you’ll beg me to stop."
He laughed, twisting his wrist before he brought the whip to crack against Vexen’s buttocks, leaving a red welt across.
A sharp cry left Vexen’s throat, and his hands curled up into fists, knuckles turning whiter than already pale skin.
Pain. Definite, unrelenting pain.
Another crack of the whip and he moaned, his eyes squeezing shut.
And another. And another.
" Please… Stop! It’s excruciating-.." the Chilly Academic begged; this was a part of the experiment he had not anticipated. It hurt… so… good?
Another moan tore its way up his throat, and it wasn’t pained.
" -ly good?" Marluxia finished his sentence, purring at the sound he’d forced out of the scientist.
Urged on by the response, he flicked another whip across the other’s thighs, amused at the visible clenching of muscles at impact. He continued.
By the time he stopped "punishing" Vexen, the other was a writhing, moaning mess on the table, bony hands clenching and unclenching, as though the man himself was unsure whether pain or pleasure was the correct reaction.
Lowering the whip Marluxia allowed himself a few sweet moments to revel in the sight before closing the distance between them once again.
" You look a bit flustered," he purred, sliding the whip teasingly between the scientist’s legs, just enough to caress the soft skin along the inside of a thigh. Vexen hissed something unintelligible, still at a certain loss for breath. Heat veritably radiated from the abused skin, warmer than even sex would make him, beautiful patterns of red against pale.
Marluxia chuckled and put the whip down on the table again, more than a little pleased at the thought of that burning skin soon to grind against his own hips.
But as he languidly leaned forward to brush away the blonde hair obscuring his view of the other’s no doubt interestingly wincing face, he suddenly found himself stumbling forwards through empty air, falling none too comfortably against the table even as a shadow portal faded and vice-like hands grabbed and held his own wrists.
" You shouldn’t be careless," said a slightly breathless voice behind him, aiming at chill but not quite succeeding. A click of handcuffs around one of his own wrists now. " Even old dogs can learn a new trick."
Equally amused and annoyed he twisted around on the table to catch the rather displeased look on Vexen’s face, which was conveniently rather close. Another click.
" And being old dogs, they have the experience and wisdom to put them to much better use than wet mongrel puppies such as yourself."
The younger man snorted mockingly even as he felt his hands go numb from cold, a coating of ice securing the handcuffs mercilessly against his wrists.
" Experience? You were a prude, fumbling virgin before I took pity on your deprived…"
He trailed off, the clenching of ice along his arms and hands really quite painful.
But there was that delicious affronted gleam in Vexen’s eyes, the fuming anger and sheer wickedness that only surfaced when he had been pushed far enough to strike back; usually in rather inventive and unexpected ways.
" So you insist on believing. Either way, I have always been an exceptionally fast learner," the scientist stated blandly.
Given the striking make-up and attire, he would have to admit this was true.
" Very well, " Marluxia condescended, turning to face the other. " But just what makes the old dog think I will let him keep me bound?"
Another portal began to form around him, but even as he braced himself to melt into it, lips against his own made him pause.
" Oh, I have it all planned out," Vexen growled, managing to sound lecturing and terse even with his mouth occupied. " Close your eyes, and I will show you."
Surprised, amused Marluxia grinned. Vexen’s lips were hard and cold, but his mouth quite warm, the odd sensation and intensity more than making up for lack of expertise.
Allowing the older man his illusions of control he obediently closed his eyes, kissed back with tongue and bite, knowing he was better at this by far.
And then suddenly there was an intrusion into the kiss, hard cool glass against his lips, liquid in his mouth, and even as he sputtered and swallowed instinctively to be able to breathe, his eyes flew open to see the horribly triumphant smile on Vexen’s face, the test tube from before in his hand, empty now.
" What was that?!"
An odd, too-sweet taste lingered in his mouth, something familiar he couldn’t quite place. Vexen looked horribly smug.
" It probably won’t hurt you much as it is - although the mixture is rather volatile. You probably won’t implode if you try to teleport or use your magic. At least not instantly."
An almost demented tilt to the grin now.
" But do feel free to try. I’ve been curious to learn exactly what would happen."
Marluxia swore and glared, not at all pleased with how his position had suddenly changed. He couldn’t even feel his frozen hands anymore.
Vexen stepped closer, invading his personal space now. Strange how eerily unfamiliar the thin face looked behind the make-up; a painted mask with baleful green eyes, so much more intense framed by sooty black.
Vexen couldn’t help but feel rather pleased as the neophyte shrank back the slightest from him against the table. The petulant scowl on his face revealed that Marluxia really hadn’t anticipated the sudden turn of events, and as always any aggravation on the other’s part was most gratifying.
His backside still stung, albeit from humiliation as much as physical pain, and he determinedly decided there was quite a bit of payback to hand out for that little episode.
" Now be a good puppy. Stay," Vexen commanded in dangerous tone, moving to the side to sift through the pockets of his discarded robe. Smiling to himself, he fished out a length of cord that revealed itself to be a leash with a small length of chain at the end.
" I’m sure you know what this is, Marluxia; it seems to be in your area of expertise."
The younger man stared at the leash for a good few moments, his scowl deepening at the knowledge that he was to be humiliated, as just retribution.
" A choke collar…?" he ventured, eyes never leaving the item dangling from the scientist’s hand.
" Good boy. I knew you would get it," Vexen praised, pressing up against the other’s body to loop the chain over his head, ripping off the cap as he went, flicking it away distastefully as though its mere existence offended him.
Growling slightly at the numbness and pain in his hands, Marluxia let out a small hiss of dismay as Vexen tugged none-too-gently on the leash and brought him to his knees. He looked up at the other, his throat smarting from the choking effect that the chain possessed. Devilish little contraption... Simple, devilish little contraption.
" Now… What shall I do with you, hmm? You own up to a lot, young man," Vexen whispered huskily, his made-up eyes lowering into a sultry gaze. His painted lips curled into a sneer.
" I should make you do every degrading thing you’ve made me do..."
Marluxia glared up at him quietly.
" But I don’t know… should I be merciful..? Should I let you beg?"
He reached down with his free hand, stroking over Marluxia’s head like an owner does a pet.
" Hmm?" Vexen grabbed a handful of fluffy hair, yanking it back. Marluxia’s head snapped back with a broken gasp.
Smiling with malicious amusement Vexen wrapped a length of leash around his hand while keeping a hold of the other’s hair, pulling his arms apart from each other, choking Marluxia, hurting the younger man.
" Want to try asking for mercy now?" he purred, bending down and dragging his lips along the bruising flesh along the chain.
Letting go of grip-crinkled hair, Vexen yanked Marluxia’s face close to his groin, standing before the other with his hips jutted forward slightly.
A little frantic from the pain and lack of air Marluxia pressed forward, nuzzling and kissing along a pale thigh, close to-..
Before he even came in contact with the other’s cloth-enclosed sex, he was yanked back and away.
A rebellious whimper that tapered off into a growl broke from his lips as he gazed up at Vexen, absolute distaste in his gaze.
" You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?" The older man smiled menacingly, jerking on the leash again.
Marluxia winced, one eye shutting slightly as he gritted his teeth.
" Poor puppy." Condescending. Marluxia snarled.
" Down." Another harsh tightening of the chain, and a gasp later Marluxia found himself lying on his chest on the ground, staring at Vexen’s boots.
Vexen’s stiletto boots.
" Stilettos. How darling, I never noticed." Marluxia commented hoarsely, swallowing with trouble.
" It’s amazing the things you notice when you’re on your knees."
As if his pride couldn’t be bruised more at the moment. Marluxia was not pleased.
" Well?" he growled testily.
" Lick." Vexen smiled down at him, grin bordering insane from the angle that Marluxia could see.
" Lick." Marluxia repeated, stupidly, staring up with shock at the incredulous request.
" Yes. Lick my boots. They had better be spotless."
A shiny, booted foot descended with a harsh, echoing stomp next to his face, causing him to jerk aside with a strangled gasp.
" Come on now," the voice continued, teasing as a pointed toe of a boot nudged him in the cheek.
Not even trying to bite back the growl, Marluxia shut his eyes and licked the shoe presented to him hesitantly, looking up at the other for, to his utter displeasure, approval.
Vexen was looking elsewhere, and unable to hide a grunt from irritation, he licked again, a long and slow stroke up the side of the glossy boot, nose wrinkling at the unusual flavor the leather left in his mouth.
" Hmm. I do believe you missed a spot," the scientist sneered, twisting his foot slightly and presenting the other side of the boot.
Marluxia obliged with another angry slow lick.
He was rewarded with another patronizing pat on the head, which only added to his disapproval of the switch in roles.
Gazing up at the older man, he watched Vexen stalk back to the metal chair, and with a painful constricting around his neck, realized much to his chagrin, that he was still attached to the leash and had to crawl in a debasing, ungraceful manner after the other.
Vexen crossed his legs elegantly, his foot held inches away from Marluxia’s face, stiletto heel pointing imposingly at the other.
" Suck on it," he commanded in a low, husky voice, as if referring to something else.
Marluxia stared, dumbfounded at what he was being asked to suck when it wasn’t presented to hi-.. His face curled in distaste at the thought that sprang unbidden to mind.
" That’s it. That’s right. Suck on it." Vexen smiled dangerously, pulling on the leash slightly, bringing Marluxia’s anguished face close to his boot.
With much hesitation and loathing, the younger man opened his mouth, wrapping his lips around the bitter heel of his "master’s" victory, his eyes cinching shut. A sound of disgust could not be prevented from crawling out of his throat as he sucked slightly on the point, pressing forward and taking more of it into his mouth, trying to make a show of something he found absolutely revolting. He opened his eyes to see Vexen staring down at him from behind those painted lids, intent, like a hawk, a predator playing with its prey. That damned sinister smile never left those lips.
A bit too far, he concluded somewhat sullenly. Perhaps pushed a bit too far for even his liking. At least Vexen was fussy enough to keep his lab spotless, and so the boots were mercifully clean.
Eventually growing bored with the show Vexen pulled his boot back, only to place it firmly on the other’s chest with a nasty little kick.
The collar constrained painfully again as he was pushed backwards, sprawled on the floor. Gasping he squirmed to get back on his knees, but Vexen stood and moved to his side, accursed boot placed again firmly on his chest, pinning him down. What he could still feel of his arms ached and throbbed dully under him, and a part of him wondered with certain mortification if it was possible for flesh to freeze so cold it could actually shatter.
Vexen smirked down at the Assassin, practically glowing with satisfaction. The slight power trip had gone to his head, and his interests in the other were tilting towards the carnal; Marluxia looked so delicious lying prone, bruised, pained… So helpless, so submissive.
Marluxia wondered if he had unconsciously made a noise, for a fraction of a second later, Vexen was kneeling at his side, cupping his face, stroking his cheek, cooing. Condescendingly, of all things. Just how he did manage to sound so pretentious yet kind, he would never know.
" Now the poor puppy’s had enough, hmm?"
A cold hand slid down to grip him between the legs, squeezing, kneading, working him to pants and gasps. His eyes squeezed shut and grit his teeth. He wouldn’t reward the other with a sound.
Cold hands unzipping his pants then plunging inside forced a gasp out of his throat. He arched his back, a grunt of pain following the gasp as his arms strained and cramped, still bound, still numb and frozen.
" Vex-" His voice died in his throat as a hot, moist mouth descended on him, enveloping him in blinding pleasure.
Eyes snapping open with a soft, strangled moan, Marluxia looked down watching, fascinated, as Vexen played with him, tongue teasing, tempting, torturing. His head fell back with a snap of his teeth, a frustrated growl tearing from him as he lifted his hips slightly, trying to get more. Just a little more...
Then cold. Really, really cold.
" Wha-?" Marluxia looked back down to see a lusty, evil smile on Vexen’s lips. The other had pressed a finger to the base of his sex, and what appeared to be a ring of ice was growing around- Cold!
" A ‘cock-ring’? W-w-why Vexen, I d-didn’t know you were s-so kinky." Marluxia shivered, he couldn’t keep his teeth from chattering as he snarled cynically.
" You c-certainly are outd-doing yourself."
" I know... aren’t you pleased? I am," Vexen responded coolly, slowly undoing the younger man’s boots and sliding them off, pleased that the other was squirming like a trapped rat. ‘Blue-balls’ certainly seemed an uncomfortable thing, especially when interpreted so literally. He chuckled to himself, much to Marluxia’s annoyance.
Suddenly his previous concern about frozen, shattering flesh felt very pressing. The same dull, aching numbness that engulfed what he could still feel of his arms began spreading between his legs, and he whimpered and squirmed. Vexen’s dark smirk didn’t help things at all, either, and he seethed in helpless resentment.
The man should by all reason look ridiculous in his corset and fishnets and make up, he should have been flustered and out of his depth at the mere suggestion! He certainly should not be able to look regal, imposing and insufferably irresistible - and he most definitely should not have been able to ever, ever get the Graceful Assassin into a compromised position such as this one, ever.
And sweet darkness, even through the pain there shouldn’t be such ravaging pleasure as that warm tongue returned to tease him, burning hot against the spreading cold.
To see Marluxia writhing helplessly beneath him was starkly satisfying on so many different levels, Vexen concluded. The occasional defiant growl or hiss confirmed that the neophyte’s helpless responses were quite involuntary, and getting to play the puppet-master for once was really very enjoyable.
What he had said to Marluxia was true; he always had been a fast learner, addicted to knowledge and striving for excellence in any subject he turned his hungry mind to. He would watch in detached silence, observe, study, come to conclusions in contemplative solitude; and then more often than not being proved absolutely right once putting his theories to the test.
This was no different. Nor was the outcome.
Breathless, disheveled, squirming on the floor, Marluxia helpfully verified every little hypothesis thrown at him through muffled moans and gasps.
The one thing he hadn’t anticipated was his own increasing lack of detachment. What previous self-consciousness at proximity and nakedness a scientist could maintain had been rather efficiently ground away after those countless nights in Marluxia’s bed - yet to actually find any personal physical pleasure in such encounters was a rare occurrence.
Still he couldn’t deny that having the intolerable creature so fully at his mercy was quite arousing, or the unanticipated effect those strangled sighs were having on him.
He licked, sucked, touched, using ice to hurt and bring pleasure, caressing, clawing and squeezing. Wanting, needing more of those breathless screams.
Movements meticulously calculated and neat stripped the last pieces of clothing from the other, baring more burning flower-scented skin to taste and hurt.
Marluxia shivered uncontrollably by now, from cold and pain and pulse and that most wondrously inspired touch. Damn inventive scientists!
His hair was plastered against his face, which was strange, because the air was so chilly he shouldn’t be sweating, chilly enough to bring goose bumps to his skin and make his nipples so stiff they hurt.
And then he arched his back and cried out loud as long fingers thickly coated in ice pressed into him, slippery and hard and cold.
They pulled back, the ice melted from his body heat relentlessly replenished, then another was added as they slid deep into him again. He couldn’t have refused them entry even had he wanted to; the slick ice so slippery and lubricated it met with no resistance at all. He jerked at the touch, enthralled, then winced in protest as the cold slowly turned him numb, made that staggering sensation fade.
" Vexen!" he gasped, then squeezed his eyes shut in pain as the other bit down hard on a nipple. The feeling of that blonde hair dragging across his chest drove him wild, and it was several seconds before he found his voice again.
" Vexen, it’s too cold… I can’t feel…"
The older man pulled back a little, looked down at him with aloof disdain in his accentuated green eyes.
" Is that so? Well. That would indeed have been a pity - had any of this been for your pleasure."
But he relented, letting the ice around his fingers slowly melt away, moving them in the most fascinating way deep inside, giving the smallest smirk at Marluxia’s resulting outcry.
The sudden shudder and moan was overwhelmingly arousing, and Vexen too shuddered, unable to fight back the involuntary response. He stroked his fingers again in the same manner, earning himself a violent arch and yowl from Marluxia. He almost purred.
Marluxia turned and gritted his teeth, fighting back another loud cry as the scientist continued to press and rub inside him, continually, in that infuriatingly sensitive spot.
" Ah-" Violent thrashing of his head.
" Feel free to cry out... In fact, do keep screaming, Marluxia. You’re here in my laboratory after all… No one can hear you scream." Vexen smirked, thoroughly amused.
" Oh gods-" Marluxia gasped, his voice catching in his throat and his back arching so violently it looked like he would snap in two. His toes were curling and his legs felt rigid, the inexplicable cold in his lower abdomen surging in between waves of hot pleasure lancing up from between his legs.
" Who’s crying out like a chaste, virginal maiden now?" Vexen jabbed, forcing another finger inside, spreading.
Marluxia threw the scientist a most hateful glare, his eyes wavering at the stab of pleasure and pain.
" I am- nngh- Not a virgin. Don’t compare me to that." Of course his words would come back and bite him, quite literally, in the ass. He averted his face slightly, mouth hanging open in breathless pants.
However, the seemingly unsure lilt in the other’s tone convinced Vexen otherwise. He knew how to read people, he had studied human psychology.
" Liar."
The one word made Marluxia’s head snap back, growl in his throat. How dare Vexen assume that he-
" You have never let yourself get bent over by another man, have you."
His protest died in his throat, staring, half in horror half in shock that Vexen of all people, could tell.
" You just love being in control," that spitefully apathetic voice drawled slowly as cold fingers continued to pump into him, making his eyes flutter, forcing noises out of his body that he would never have made had he been on top.
Breathless, Marluxia tried to push Vexen away, but realized he couldn’t, his arms were still caught under him, he just couldn’t feel them! So cold and numb were they, he practically forgot they were there-
" Vexen, my arms!" he cried out softly, trying to change the subject; he didn’t like where Vexen’s rhetorical inquisition was going.
" You hate it when your control is taken from you."
Green eyes held blue in a sharp stare that meant everything and nothing. Those hatefully pleasurable fingers were pulled out, and he fought violently not to whimper in disappointment.
" You hate it when power is just out of your reach."
He watched, silently fascinated as Vexen shifted onto fish netted knees, his gaze drawn to the other’s obvious arousal.
" You hate it when you aren’t the leader in any given task."
He watched as Vexen undid the corset, painted eyes never leaving his face, never giving him a chance to recover his pride.
" You hate it when you aren’t subjugating others to your whim."
Marluxia almost forgot to breathe as numbness fogged his mind and he was prompted into a sharp intake of breath, much like a gasp, which was rewarded with a sinister smile.
" You hate it when you have to submit. Don’t you?"
The rustle of fabric aside, the Assassin was so torn between being displeased and pleased at the sight of Vexen on top of him, on hands beside his hips and knees between his legs, he couldn’t help but whimper piteously.
" Now tell me… is my analysis of you correct; or must I run a few more tests…?" Vexen absolutely purred, his voice deep and husky with ill-hidden lust. His fingers, those damnable, talented, precise fingers raking up and down, teasing his need unrelentingly.
" I..I-" Marluxia could barely get his voice out of his throat, his body empty, needy, his desire for release overwhelming. He shook his head, as if trying to clear certain dirty thoughts out of his head.
Vexen smiled smugly, most satisfied with how he had reduced his "superior" into a quivering mass of want. Without a word of warning, he grabbed Marluxia’s shoulder, wrenching the other over onto their side. He knew Marluxia’s arms were beyond use now, so he had no fear of retribution.
Unfreezing the bound limbs, he cracked the frozen chain of the metal cuffs, chuckling at the panicked bucking Marluxia produced, probably thinking him demented enough to be snapping his frozen fingers off one by one.
" Oh don’t worry, I won’t mar the perfect complexion that you are ever so vain about," the scientist purred, throwing the other back on his back.
Marluxia gasped as blood rushed back into his hands, like pins and needles, hot and painful. He gritted his teeth and writhed in discomfort, only to moan in complaint as his arms were grabbed and spread out to his sides.
" Just what are you-…"
He was silenced by a cold finger on his lips, ice forming over his mouth, and he made a panicked thrash, only to be held down by the shoulders, limbs out of commission.
" Shh. Let me do my work. I only want to hear your moans and screams - not whatever protest springs unbidden to mind," Vexen whispered, pressing his hands to the cold floor and forming two blocks of ice, cemented to the ground, wrapped around the metal handcuffs and frostbitten wrists once again.
With a snap of his fingers, the thin layer of ice over Marluxia’s jaw shattered and melted onto heated, flushed skin, allowing Marluxia to cry out once again in discomfort and pain, the abused muscles of his arms clenching and cramping spasmodically.
" Vexen, I swear," he managed to grit out, genuine danger lurking beneath breathless desire, " If you do me any permanent damage…"
And he drowned in the intense green eyes suddenly so very close to his own, turned his head slightly when prompted to grant better access as the older man calmly licked molten ice and tears from his face. A haughty sneer between licks and bites.
" Shush, now. I know exactly what I’m doing."
A smirk.
" Can’t you tell?"
And had he thought himself able to form coherent words he would have been forced to agree, but Vexen was over him again, those hands sliding up from his hips along his sides, firm and tangible, and warm tongue and cold lips nuzzled against his throat, and the texture of lace tinted the sensation of skin against his thighs as he spread his legs helplessly, and closeness, and touch, and even coherent thought was becoming really quite difficult.
Bound again, albeit in a marginally more comfortable manner, there was nothing he could do as those hands touched him, held him firmly, thumbs rubbing at already sore and sensitive nipples. Refusing, simply refusing to go down without one last fight he responded in the only way he could, arching his back, raising his legs to rub slowly against Vexen’s narrow hips with his thighs and knees.
A scythe was a difficult weapon to wield, not really all that well suited for combat; to be able to use one gracefully, or even decently you needed agility and strong legs. He just so happened to have both.
Vexen didn’t really stand a chance as the Assassin caught the slim body on top of him between his thighs, clenched mercilessly, wrapping his legs firmly around the other and pulling him down.
Even in his helpless state he found the look on the scientist’s face priceless, languid eyes suddenly flung wide open, a hissed gasp between clenched teeth.
He held on tight, grinding his crotch against the other, pressing his thighs together until Vexen squirmed, his face contorted in annoyance and pain and more.
With his legs apart and the academic firmly pressed down against him there was nothing between their writing bodies but the flimsy piece of underwear, growing increasingly frustrating as he found himself needing touch, hardness against hardness, skin against skin.
But before he could even begin to voice his frustration Vexen gave a low growl and reached down to simply rip off the offensive garment himself, too impatient and flustered to even attempt removing it properly.
They both gasped in unison as the cloth was torn away and flesh both hot and cold, velvet soft and relentless hard met, the most impossible, wonderful sensation.
Vexen gave a barely audible groan, capturing Marluxia’s face between both hands, his fingers in the other’s hair, holding him still to steal all the brutal kisses he wanted, his breathing somewhat labored. Rather than fighting him the younger man returned the kisses, equally breathless, ravenous, so warm inside and out it seemed to burn him, their mouths battling for superiority.
Too far gone to uphold his strength for long Marluxia gave one last cruel squeeze of his legs, tearing a most rewarding groan of pain from his lover before slowly relaxing, trembling with adrenaline and pulse, letting his legs spread open in dignified defeat.
Vexen shifted slightly on top of him, nimble but trembling fingers finding his entrance again, melting ice wetting and preparing him. Refusing to give in to hollow apprehension he sucked hard on the blonde’s lower lip, a feeble but needed illusion of control, gracious consent, as though if he said no Vexen wouldn’t push against him like so, entering, claiming, and darkness help me, stop it, stop it stop never stop yes yes yes…
With Marluxia mewling like a cat in heat, Vexen gritted his teeth, lips set in a determined smirk, hands gripping hips hard enough to leave marks as he moved in and out of the other, his own voice harmonizing with the assassin’s in groans and grunts.
Now to make the other scream... ah, that took a different tactic. Pulling out almost all the way, Vexen shushed the unhappy whimper that escaped the younger man’s lips at the sudden loss of heat deep inside him.
" It will get better. I promise," the scientist whispered huskily, grabbing Marluxia’s knees and lifting the legs, setting them on his shoulders, shifting the angle of entry completely. He sat still for a while longer, savoring the impatient glare the assassin threw him.
" Get on with it," Marluxia growled, before his head thumped back with a deep gasp. Vexen had pushed into him with a deep, hard thrust, halting all movement as he was fully sheathed.
Amused with the reaction he pulled out and slammed home again, thrusting up to brush right against, if not into, that spot he knew would make the other’s toes curl, vision go white.
The assassin absolutely howled at the sensation, his legs tensing, eyes squeezing shut. The scientist watched, amused, at the straining, powerful shoulders beneath him, trying to break out of the restraints he himself had set.
In, out, in, out, deep, hard, fast-
" Are you alright?" Vexen teased, stopping all movement, although the heat coiled in his abdomen protested violently, wanted release… He bit the inside of his cheek slightly to distract himself.
" Why did you stop?!" Marluxia wailed, almost desperate, chest heaving as he sucked in sobbing breaths.
" What do you want?" Cold hands gripped well muscled thighs roughly, nails digging into the hard flesh, leaving bruised half-moon furrows.
" You know what I want."
" I know that you know that I know."
" Would you stop playi-.." Marluxia was silenced by a well-placed thrust, leaving him breathless.
" I want you to say it."
" Say wha- unngh!" Another distracting plunge deep inside.
" What do you want?" A patient, sinister smile graced Vexen’s lips as he held still once again, hands stroking up and down the other’s thighs.
" How do you want me to sa- aa~Ah!"
" Stop being coy. What do you want me to do to you?"
Vexen rolled his hips slightly, earning a frustrated moan from the younger man.
" Fuck me." Marluxia turned his head to the side, unable to meet the other’s gaze as he murmured. Damnable scientist, not about to let him get away with any shreds of dignity. He was sure he wasn’t going to be able to salvage any bits after this session in the lab.
" What was that? I’m sorry, I must be getting old, I didn’t hear you clearly." Vexen cocked his head to the side, bringing a hand up to his ear, doing a poor imitation of an old deaf man.
Marluxia growled angrily. His body was like a tightly wound spring; he felt like he could burst any moment, but it was just being held back by the lack of… well, friction, and the cold, cold ring of ice around his genitals.
" I want you… to… fuck me."
He glared resolutely at the other, grinding his demand out between his teeth.
" Duck me? I have no idea what that is… But I guess I’ll have to go and look it up..." Vexen made as to pull out.
" No no no! FUCK me! Just fuck me already, Vexen-... Please! Fuck me, fuck me, FUCK ME!"
Dignity well out the proverbial window Marluxia begged as he strained, surged against the bindings, his face in a pitiable expression as he looked as if he couldn’t decide to be desperate or angry. He was rewarded with a sneer.
Then Vexen obliged. Repeatedly.
His throat was sore from yelling, and yet it was hard to keep from screaming as the other moved in him, touching so very deep, brutal yet gentle, cold, hot, relentless. The gaunt face had never been more beautiful than now, with its slightly smeared make-up, framed by ruffled hair, expression so tight and focused, gaze strangely possessive.
A slight change of angle again and he did scream, head thrown back, over and over, couldn’t help himself, couldn’t bring himself to care.
Vexen grit his teeth, struggling for self-control even as the younger man writhed beneath him, heated skin rubbing against his own, Marluxia’s unique scent of man and flowers all around, drawn in with every gasping breath.
Tight. Warm. Arrogant smirk finally replaced with naked need and helpless desire.
There was beauty in that helplessness. Deep gratifying satisfaction in victory.
He could afford to be gracious now.
Could be rough and gentle and deeper, harder, more, now, now, now, just as the other begged, in gasped strangled pleas.
Could even pretend to care, feign affection; kiss, mark, bruise, claim, own.
Marluxia broken was not nearly as insufferable.
Damn, tight!
He hissed, fighting a losing battle against himself, shivering as taut restraint was frayed around the edges by urges ever deeper, need so intense it almost frightened him.
He struggled, focusing on rhythm, trying to keep his mind clear and cool as always, but the sensation of Marluxia beneath him, around him, squeezing him…
The Assassin gave a scream, primitive, furious and pitiful at the same time, his entire body suddenly tense to the point of breaking, quivering violently with each hard thrust.
One look at the other’s face shattered all attempts at self-control, and with a low growl he gave in, calculated rhythm faltering, changing, thrusts violent and fast, and darkness have pity on our wretched souls I never realized and so close and so tight and so hot and yes, yes, yes…
Marluxia screamed again, as from intolerable pain, and he too cried out, stiffened, the sensation seemingly too intense for their fragile existence to bear, and certainly, certainly this must be death, blinding darkness, searing light, too much…
He finally collapsed over the younger man, lungs burning, hollow emptiness in his chest reverberating painfully with the explosive release. It rather hurt.
He heard Marluxia gasping for breath as well, felt the other’s chest heave beneath him, feathery flower-scented hair ticking his face, nearly choking him.
There would be much, no doubt, to consider later.
Not right now, though. Analysis without detachment was by principle flawed from the start, and entwined as he was, ‘detachment’ seemed nowhere near a proper term to apply to the situation.
Later, then.
He kept his eyes closed, breathed, content for the time being.
Eventually felt Marluxia stir somewhat.
" Say. Vexen."
Voice still somewhat hoarse, but no longer furious or desperate. Thoughtful if anything.
" Yes. Marluxia," he managed to grunt. A short moment of silence.
" What was in the test-tube?"
He couldn’t help but grin slightly against the Assassin’s shoulder.
" Water. Unhealthy doses of sugar, color and artificial flavors. And sea-salt."
Another silence, quite a bit longer.
" Sea-salt."
" Yes."
Another pause.
" You force-fed me sea-salt ice cream?"
No matter how pleasantly drowsy he might feel he propped himself up on an elbow to be able to see Marluxia’s face. Gave his best aloof drawl.
" Yes. It was supposed to be my dessert, but you interrupted me before I could freeze it."
The look on Marluxia’s face really was perfectly precious.
After quite a while of struggling expressions, amusement finally seemed to win over disbelief, rage and mortification.
" I… almost suspected as much."
He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that.
" Really? Then why pretend fighting?"
Marluxia scowled slightly.
" Well, I could hardly be certain - it was you who gave it to me, after all."
" I thought you said I was getting predictable."
It was quite enjoyable to see the other widen his eyes and gasp as he moved ever so slightly, still buried inside.
" Sometimes… you’re not. Really not."
A small victory in itself. Unfortunately the moment of triumph was short-lived, reluctant admission replaced by that wicked thoughtful look again.
" So, Vexen…"
A wary glare.
" Yes?"
A most sinful grin graced the beautifully bruised lips.
" About tomorrow night…"
~and so it never ends.