FIC: By Silk Undone (Conrad Veidt/Basil Rathbone, NC-17)
Title: By Silk Undone
Author: Snowgrouse
Fandom: Old Hollywood RPS
Pairing: Conrad Veidt/Basil Rathbone
Rating: NC-17
Genre: PWP, fluff and smut
Warnings: Instafic, mild and brief references to past unpleasant bummings
Length: ~3400 words
Summary: Even if he's the one wearing the dress, Connie is the one on top tonight, undoing Baz the way he knows how.
A/N: Instafic originally written as an email to a friend, but I realised this was certainly hotter than some of the instaporn I'd posted on Ao3 before. So I ironed it out a bit, but not on the same proofread-everything-at-least-six-times level the way I do with my properfics; this has only had about two and a half such combings. Therefore, slight wobblinesses may remain. But again, having said that, some of the porn turned out pretty good, I thought.
(Even if he's the one wearing the dress--a beautiful, white silk dress and silk stockings, with smooth-shaven legs underneath--Connie's the one who's ended up on top tonight. And very literally so: now, Connie is straddling Baz, kissing him, grinding into him, hard underneath his dress; determined, Connie is pressing his wrists into the bed and won't let him move.
All of this had happened naturally, somehow; inevitably. The moment Baz had shown up looking gloomy and tense--well. Connie had taken one look at him and had known that tonight, he needed to take charge, needed to undo that stupid anguish of his, those knots in his being.
And even if it's but subconscious, both of them know that tonight's the night: tonight, Connie will finally take him. He wants Baz so much he isn't going to be satisfied with just taking the female role this time--well, depending on the female. For Connie is now also the woman who takes, the maneater, and Baz cannot help but think of the firm command with which Marlene had taken him to her bed.
Therefore, after a little tumble upon the bed--not different from what they normally do--it just so happens that all of a sudden, Connie throws Baz face down upon the bed, yanks up his hips and buries his tongue in his arse.
At the shock of how good it feels, Baz is plunged into a mental and physical chaos as he crouches there; he staggers upon his hands and his knees, his head and shoulders braced upon the pillows, his hands clutching at the rumpled-up bedcovers. Just moments ago, he had mumbled something about how Connie didn't have to, how he wasn't clean, but Connie had cheerfully ignored all that and just chuckled with his mouth pressed into Baz's arse, his tongue vibrating with his laughter.
Baz's eyes remain closed and his entire body is trembling as Connie takes him with his tongue, the pleasure so unbelievable and so overwhelming it adds to his panic: no one has ever done this to him before, every touch of Connie's tongue a shock, all his senses now so whipped up, turned up so high that it all becomes a noise in his head. And he doesn't know what to do, sure that he has never been this hard in his entire life; he wants something to thrust into, but he also wants more of this pressure Connie is now only giving him a hint of, a hint of something terrible: the promise of a much greater pleasure he could feel inside of his body.
Connie, inside of him. The thought of Connie inside of him, damn him--even if Baz hates being fucked, has never liked being fucked, has only ever been hurt by men. But now, here he is, pushing his arse back onto Connie's tongue like a tart, the little puffs of Connie's breathing sending shivers across his skin, and he wants more, more, more.)
Author: Snowgrouse
Fandom: Old Hollywood RPS
Pairing: Conrad Veidt/Basil Rathbone
Rating: NC-17
Genre: PWP, fluff and smut
Warnings: Instafic, mild and brief references to past unpleasant bummings
Length: ~3400 words
Summary: Even if he's the one wearing the dress, Connie is the one on top tonight, undoing Baz the way he knows how.
A/N: Instafic originally written as an email to a friend, but I realised this was certainly hotter than some of the instaporn I'd posted on Ao3 before. So I ironed it out a bit, but not on the same proofread-everything-at-least-six-times level the way I do with my properfics; this has only had about two and a half such combings. Therefore, slight wobblinesses may remain. But again, having said that, some of the porn turned out pretty good, I thought.
(Even if he's the one wearing the dress--a beautiful, white silk dress and silk stockings, with smooth-shaven legs underneath--Connie's the one who's ended up on top tonight. And very literally so: now, Connie is straddling Baz, kissing him, grinding into him, hard underneath his dress; determined, Connie is pressing his wrists into the bed and won't let him move.
All of this had happened naturally, somehow; inevitably. The moment Baz had shown up looking gloomy and tense--well. Connie had taken one look at him and had known that tonight, he needed to take charge, needed to undo that stupid anguish of his, those knots in his being.
And even if it's but subconscious, both of them know that tonight's the night: tonight, Connie will finally take him. He wants Baz so much he isn't going to be satisfied with just taking the female role this time--well, depending on the female. For Connie is now also the woman who takes, the maneater, and Baz cannot help but think of the firm command with which Marlene had taken him to her bed.
Therefore, after a little tumble upon the bed--not different from what they normally do--it just so happens that all of a sudden, Connie throws Baz face down upon the bed, yanks up his hips and buries his tongue in his arse.
At the shock of how good it feels, Baz is plunged into a mental and physical chaos as he crouches there; he staggers upon his hands and his knees, his head and shoulders braced upon the pillows, his hands clutching at the rumpled-up bedcovers. Just moments ago, he had mumbled something about how Connie didn't have to, how he wasn't clean, but Connie had cheerfully ignored all that and just chuckled with his mouth pressed into Baz's arse, his tongue vibrating with his laughter.
Baz's eyes remain closed and his entire body is trembling as Connie takes him with his tongue, the pleasure so unbelievable and so overwhelming it adds to his panic: no one has ever done this to him before, every touch of Connie's tongue a shock, all his senses now so whipped up, turned up so high that it all becomes a noise in his head. And he doesn't know what to do, sure that he has never been this hard in his entire life; he wants something to thrust into, but he also wants more of this pressure Connie is now only giving him a hint of, a hint of something terrible: the promise of a much greater pleasure he could feel inside of his body.
Connie, inside of him. The thought of Connie inside of him, damn him--even if Baz hates being fucked, has never liked being fucked, has only ever been hurt by men. But now, here he is, pushing his arse back onto Connie's tongue like a tart, the little puffs of Connie's breathing sending shivers across his skin, and he wants more, more, more.)