Missive for melusinahp

[spyfestadmin]

Author: loony-lucifer
Recipient: melusinahp
Title: Winter Wonderland
Characters/Pairing(s): Yassen/Alex
Summary: Yassen can be quite a pleasant man when he has an ulterior motive.
Rating: NC-17
Warning(s): Underage sex
Word Count: 4,184
Author's Notes: I tried to take your requests and turn them into a creepy yet realistic little scenario. I hope you enjoy this fic!


Disclaimer: All Alex Rider characters herein are the property of Anthony Horowitz and the Penguin Group. No copyright infringement is intended.

Winter Wonderland

Yassen Gregorovich could be quite a pleasant man when he put his mind to it. For three weeks he’d been setting up the persona of Aaron Thomas, a young university professor with primary volunteer work supposedly spanning the length of years since he’d been out of college. “Aaron” was set with only a dash of consistent after school program history on his weekends.

Aside from the Winter Wonderland ice rink’s coordinator, Timothy, most of the other volunteer helpers were barely out of school themselves, but that alone wasn’t enough to undermine Yassen’s cover as a young professor.

Timothy, a man nearing his forties and still making his professional living coordinating after-school programs, immediately liked him. Yassen had expected so, even counted on it, after observing the man in his element in the park for the past severalweeks. It wasn’t difficult for him to determine Timothy’s motivation for coming in to work every morning, around the smiling, boisterous, trusting youth of Chelsea, and to fit himself, Aaron, into thatniche smoothly. Timothy took notice of Aaron’s similar enthusiasm immediately.

That was how, for the past two weeks, he’d spent every Saturday atHyde Parkwatching over early secondary school children putting up their best attempt at skating around the rink.

Yassen neither liked nor disliked the experience; as far as the children and other volunteers (minus Timothy) were concerned, he was Aaron Thomas - the friendly yet somewhat aloof teacher from Cardiff who must simply enjoy the presence of youth and have nothing better to do with his weekends. The poor fellow, he really ought to find a girlfriend.

He was there for one reason only, and as soon as that reason stepped through the gates of the park with his windswept straw colouredhair and frosty red tinged cheeks, nothing else in the Wonderland park mattered.

Alex Rider was back in school regularly now, even going on the occasional outing with other youths of his age.

For two months Yassen knew he’d been out of contact with MI6, previous mission completed and hoping for a final reprieve in their dogged attempts to coerce him into the nation’s war games. He seemed to be building slowly on the foundation of his friendship with his schoolmate Tom, one of the only people he could comfortably meet up with out of class for fun. Which was exactly what the two boys were doing now, as Yassen could see Alex’s lanky, dark haired friend gesture to the counter where they could retrieve their skates.

It was clear that Alex hadn’t been to the rink in some time, or perhaps ever, but Yassen had noticed Tom and another group coming to the Winter Wonderland rink often enough. He knew Alex would join them eventually.

With eyes locked on the boys putting on their skates, “Aaron” stepped out onto the ice. He eased into the flow of skaters, keeping away from the edges so as not to be noticed by Alex and his friend as they entered and gradually found their bearings.Picking a position on the other side of the rink where a group of beginners had set themselves out of the way where some of the volunteers could lend them a hand, Yassen rested on the wall beside them.

From there he had a good vantage point to watch the young Rider make slow circles around the ring. The boy gained confidence quickly as his legs remembered experienced movements. Ice-skating was surely something he picked up from Ian. He leaned down, getting more comfortable, catching his momentum and was soon zipping through the crowd. He was small enough still to manage that kind of speed, darting between pairs of adults and around smaller and slower children. Even Yassen, because of his size alone, would have found it difficult to keep up.

He was content to simply watch while Alex got comfortable on the ice. Yassen looked on as Tom introduced his group of friends to the young Rider. It didn’t seem that Alex knew the group of boys, but they got on well enough after a few laps around the rink.

It was only then that one of the boys noticed Yassen leaning on the sidelines and shouted a greeting as he went by.

“Aaron” had spent some time with him last week perfecting his awkward balance. In fact, quite a few children on the rink at any given time considered Aaron a friendly face, even though they had only known him for several weeks.

Yassen waved back and ignored Alex, coming up around the turn.

He could pinpoint the exact moment that the boy recognised him. Alex forgot to put one foot over and in front of the other to make his turn gracefully and stumbled.

Alex caught himself just in time, and his eyes swept back to Yassen’s still cordially smiling face as he sailed by.

Yassen stayed where he was, the first sensations of a thrill tngling under his skin.

Now Alex knew their game was about to begin.

He was risking a lot in coming here, following Alex, drawing him into a game of any sort. But the alternative…letting Alex go, letting Alex grow up and out of this perfect state of being without first trying to get to him, would be worse than Yassen could stand. Life is not a collection of opportunities missed. And if Yassen had to make his own opportunities, he was willing.

This boy, his old friend’s son, had a hold on him like no one ever had before. Alex was as near to perfection as humanly possible, it was as simple as that.

If Yassen could freeze him in time and keep him forever like he was, he would. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the boy grew up, before the missions became too much for him, before they changed him.

Alex’s eyes were bright with fear and his cheeks were rosy from the cold as he skated away from the ghost he thought he saw in the crowd. His small frame darted in and out of the crowd on unsteady legs, tufts of blond hair sweeping around his face as he went.

Absolute perfection.

It was the kind of perfection that made Yassen horny as hell. With a small curve to his lip, excited now that Alex had seen him, Yassen pushed away from the wall.

Alex stopped on the other side of the crowd, having lost his group of friends. His gaze locked on Yassen as the older man skated lazily around the elliptical rink. As he came closer and closer, Alex retreated along the side wall.

A boy, not much younger than Alex, fell ahead of them. Alex didn’t even notice. He cringed as Yassen neared, body rigid knowing he wouldn’t be able to skate away with Yassen advancing so quickly, until Yassen sailed past with just centimeters between them. He ignored Alex completely.

It took Alex a moment to right himself and snap out of the shock, but once he turned to see the Russian criminal down on one knee in front of the fallen boy, helping him sit up and inspecting his wrist, Alex was even more stunned. Yassen knew it, too.

Though he couldn’t turn and look lest he give himself away, he could all but see Alex behind him, staring a hole through his back and not understanding what he was witnessing.

“Aaron” the friendly staff member helped the other boy to his feet.

Scott, the young boy that Yassen had known for the few short weeks he’d been working there, wasn’t normally a bad skater. He’d fallen in a collision with another younger child, but he’d landed badly.

In perfect contrast to Alex he was quite fond of Yassen, knowing nothing about the man’s background and only that he thought he was one of the coolest teachers Scott had ever met.

The look on Alex Rider’s face was priceless.

The act was jarring enough for Yassen to let Scott go, then “notice” Alex, and casually skate up to the stunnedboy.

“You’re new here, aren’t you? Have you signed in yet?”

Alex’s jaw was dropping, forming a perfect little “o” between the curve of his lips. Yassen’s tongue swiped across the bottom of his own. This child was absolutely beautiful.

They stood there, a thin mass of people skating around them, and as though Alex suddenly realised that Yassen was expecting an answer, he stammered out, “No I... I didn’t. What are you doing here?”

“Come on, you’ve got to sign in.” Yassen turned on one skate and pushed off, tone and body language displaying nothing but ease.

Alex was left staring after him, but it wasn’t long before Yassen heard the clack of his skates picking up pursuit.

So the young Rider was going to follow him after all.

“I’m not going to ask again, what are you doing here?” Alex hissed at his back, low enough not to be heard even though the crowd naturally thinned out nearby the check-in area. Parents and tired skaters rested on benches sectioned off to the side and far out of their way. The boy’s skates cut shavings of ice out of the rink in his sudden halt when he realised they were leaving the main crowd.

Yassen ignored him, stepping off the rink into a small shack where they kept extra equipment and safety supplies in order to grab a handy clipboard and pencil. He turned back to Alex, offering the items. “Well?”

Alex looked wary at best. It was a good look on him. His head was cocked half to one side, peering out from stray locks of hair that fell into his face like he couldn’t look at Yassen fully.

Yassen only smiled, as kindly as if he were only Aaron.

Finally Alex stepped forward, off the ice and into the little shelter, head held high in defiance. He was accepting Yassen’s unspoken dare. He knew he could be walking into a trap, and he was taking up the challenge. Unfortunately for him, his first instincts had been right.

The moment he crossed that final barrier of sight between the rest of the Winter Wonderland ice rink and the supply room, Yassen struck.

With one well-placed blow to the back of the neck, the assassin’s smile was the last thing Alex saw.

--

When Alex came to, Yassenwas taking his time binding Alex’slimbs one by one to the trunks of two trees standing parallel to one another and just far enough apart for Alex to stand betweenthem. Each foot Yassen had slotted next to a trunk withcoarse rope wrapped tightly around his ankles. Yassen took first one wrist and then the other, hoisting them to Alex’s eye level and attaching them to the trunk of each tree. Protruding branches underneath the knots helped keep his wrists aloft. His arms and legs stretched, nearly spread-eagle, exposing Alex to the cool air. It could have been colder. Only last week, this would have been unbearable already, but if Alex were to count his blessings he would have been glad that the temperature had risen several degrees over the past few days.

He was shaking though not from the cold, and Yassen could tell the difference. He stepped into the boy’s space confidently, laying a gentle hand on Alex’s cheek and whispering a hushing sound in his ear.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Y-yeah. Yeah right.” With a puff of warm air came Alex’s words. “I’ve heard that before when somebody’s decided to tie me up.”

“Not from me, you haven’t.”

“And what makes you so different?” Biting anger this time. Alex was clinging to it instead of his fear.

Yassen looked at the boy, waiting for a beat as if to say ‘really?’. He ought to have noticed the assassin’s penchant for giving him easy escapes. But then again, Alex didn’t know the full extent of Yassen’s affections for him. The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

“You do, Alex. You make me different.”

The boy’s burst of anger seemed to melt into confusion. He still looked wary enough, but Yassen could see the questions circling through Alex’s eyes. Because you owed my father? Because he was your friend? Because you’re such a nice guy? Whatever it was that he wanted to ask, the boy couldn’t expect what Yassen had planned for him.

Finished with the last binding, the assassin’s hands ran down Alex’s trembling arms over his thick wool jacket and cupped his cheeks, stroking lightly.

Still no comprehension.

Alex swallowed, gathering himself together. “You were waiting for me at the ice rink.”

“Yes.”

“Well now you have me. You can-“ his breath hitched over a burst of emotion, “can get whatever information you want from me… I know you know how.”

Blunt and Jones hadn’t prepared him for a torture scenario. It was obvious. Alex was going into missions with scores of active hostiles and they hadn’t given him a day of training on the matter.That set Yassen’s teeth on edge.

“Alex, listen to me,” he leaned in, crouching down to the boy’s height, “I don’t want information from MI6.” Alex’s eyes were so wide staring back at him, the pupils just a tiny speck of black in a sea of chestnut. “I just want you to…relax.” His bare fingers stroked down Alex’s neck.

He pulled the boy’s scarf free of its knot. Alex’s eyes lowered, watching his fingers work at the length of fabric, slipping it from around his collar. Yassen stopped there, stroking his hands over Alex’s neck and cheeks in a soothing motion.

So soft.

Alex remained quiet. He didn’t understand what Yassen was asking for yet, but as long as he could get the boy to calm down enough to be relatively comfortable, he could move on to the next step.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” Yassen whispered. Alex’s eyes met his. Yassen shifted, the grip of his boots digging into the frozen ground beneath him. Chest to chest he pressed himself against Alex, whispering into his ear. “I would break you in half to rid myself of this, if only I could.” And maybe that was too much to give away this soon, too much to let the boy know, but Yassen wanted him to. Alex should know how frustrating he was, and how much Yassen would rather be rid of his desire.

A hint of red reappeared over Alex’s cheeks.

Slowly, Yassen took the zipper of Alex’s high collared sweater and tugged it down. Aside from the boy’s breathing, it was the only sound in the stand of trees. The boy watched as his hands opened the sweater, pushing it to the sides. Alex wore only a light tshirt underneath which Yassen rucked up to expose his bare abdomen. He ran a hand gently up Alex’s smooth skin.

“What are you doing?” Alex breathed. He was catching on. Yassen wasn’t tying him up and taking his clothing apart so that he could take a knife to Alex’s gut, this was something else entirely.

Crouched down to his knees, gazing up at Alex, a boy he so desperately wanted, but still only an untrained, inexperiencedyouth, Yassen felt like a fool. He was practically a slave to this need. He’d spent weeks lowering himself to volunteer work at the Winter Wonderland festival, he’d pretended to be the cheerful and helpful teacher, he’d taught boys who reminded him of Alex to skate back and forth across the ice rink. All to get just this one time alone with Alex.

It was demeaning and desperate, and it made him furious at times, but his own desperation wouldn’t let him go. If anyone ever learned of his weakness, it would be the end of him.

“There is one thing I want from you, Alex, but it is not meant to harm you.” Some of his old Russian accent slipped into that sentence. Yassen didn’t mean it to be intentional, but Alex’s eyelids lowered, relaxing slightly at the sound.

Yassen pulled the tshirt up higher, exposing Alex’s chest. He bent his head and mouthed at the dip just below Alex’s bellybutton, working his way up. He could hear the boy’s breathing deepen, feel his heart beating quickly as his lips passed Alex’s chest. When he raised his head to meet Alex’s eyes, he could see the understanding dawn across the boy’s features.

“Do you know what I want from you now?” he asked, allowing the Russian lilt back into his words.

Alex’s lips partedslowly, “Why?”

Dumb question. At least it was to Yassen. Sexual motivation was perhaps the single greatest source of all human motivation.

“You’ll see.”

His hands fell to Alex’s trousers, unbuttoning them and dragging them down just far enough past his hips.

“Yassen-!” The boy cried out, startled, until Yassen bent his head again and found what he’d been looking for. With a sharp inhale, Alex stilled. His skin was flushed red all over, and Yassen could bet that his cheeks had gone beet red.

No one had ever done this to Alex, that much was clear. Yassen moved slowly, using his tongue to lick lightly around Alex’s shaft before he pulled his trousers down further to gain better access. The boy’s body was interested that much was certain, whether his brain had caught up or not.

Only a small patch of hairs had grown above Alex’s shaft so far, and again Yassen wished that he could freeze Alex as he was forever.

He could only imagine what Alex must have been thinking of him at this point, whether the young Rider was further confused, or disgusted, or simply relieved not to be dead.

When he slipped his mouth over Alex’s cock fully, the boy’s breathing hitched and his body squirmed. When Yassen sucked, Alex’s hands gripped the bark of the trees holding his restraints to further support himself. He could tell Alex was trying not to make a sound.

His hands gripped Alex’s lower back, wide enough for his thumbs to curve into the dips of Alex’s hips and his fingers to reach the top of the boy’s rear.

Yassen sucked slowly, swirling his tongue now and then, and Alex’s breaths turned into pants. He wasn’t struggling, which was better than Yassen had expected. Perhaps he wasin disbelief then.

Alex gave a pronounced whimper when Yassen flicked his tongue. This was almost better than he had anticipated.

Then the boy’s body tensed, hips bucking forward at their own pace, and Yassen tasted the sweet, slightly bitter, tang of victory. Only a few drops, but that was expected at Alex’s age. The boy shuddered under his hands.

When it was over, Yassen ran his hands up and down Alex’s back. He’d screwed his eyes shut when he climaxed, and showed no sign of opening them soon.

“Let me down. I hate you.”

Yassen stopped moving. He hadn’t expected that statement to sting. The words themselves were not a surprise. Alex was a stranger to Yassen’s world and all the finer details therein.

As he was about to rise to his feet, Alex halted him a second time.

“Let me down,” he whispered. “…I just want to touch you.”

Yassen wasn’t sure the boy was being honest, and usually he was better at reading people, but god would he like that.

After a moment of studied consideration, in which Alex wouldn’t look at him directly, he slipped a knife from his boot and broke Alex’s bonds, one after another until he was free.

Alex looked unsteady on his feet for a moment, trousers still loose, jacket and sweater still hanging open, but then he dropped against Yassen pushing all his weight into the older man. Hewound up in Yassen’s lap when he fell back to the ground.

Alex wasn’t running away. He didn’t try to take a swing at Yassen. He wasn’t hiding a knife. He just looked up at the assassin as though wondering what to do with his hands.

Yassen was willing to help with that.

He took hold of Alex’s left hand and brought it to the bulge in his own trousers. Alex’s eyes widened as he watched Yassen’s hand move his up and down. He pressed the boy’s smaller palm against his shaft on every drag, using his whole hand to work slowly over his larger length.

He must have made some noise because suddenly Alex’s eyes were on his face.

He probably seemed fascinating to the young boy in this moment. Judging from the look in Alex’s eyes, Yassen’s perpetual demeanor of calm and control was slipping.

“Yes, Alex, this is what you do to me,” he whispered harshly.

It was clear that the boy didn’t know how to respond, so he gathered Alex into his lap so that legs were wrapped around Yassen’s waist. Bodies pressed together and hands trapped between, Yassen tugged his trousers open and wrapped Alex’s small fingers around his cock.

That was definitely a surprise for the young Rider, whether it was the size, or the feel, or simply that it was Yassen’s, he didn’t know. It only made him more excited.

He bent forward,leaned Alex back, and swiftly trapped the smaller body underneath him. It was hard to miss the flash of panic that flickered across Alex’s features, but when Yassen kissed him, driving his tongue into the boy’s mouth while he worked the pace of their hands faster, Alex responded and kissed back.

He was clumsy for a moment, but caught the rhythm quickly.

He was catching on so well in every way that it was hard to believe Yassen wasn’t dreaming. He was giving in, losing the all-important control, he knew he was, but he just couldn’t stop. He knew he had been losing that control every step of the way through this setup, more and more as the plan to get to Alex progressed, and still he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

The feel of Alex underneath him, so small, skin and hands and lips so soft, with such beautiful, passionate eyes… He had never met anyone as delicious as Alex Rider.

When Yassen came, he did so silently, in long spurts and nearly violent thrusts. Alex gritted his teeth as his back dug against the unforgiving soil beneath them. He was breathing almost harder than Yassen was.

It took Yassen a moment to come back to his senses. Once he had, he rolled onto his back and discreetly tucked himself back into his trousers, ignoring the mess.

In those brief moments after climax, when the night was absolutely still and before Alex had regained his own composure, the world culminated into a state of zen not quite like anything the assassin could remember feeling.

So distracted was he that he didn’t realise Alex had taken hold of his boot knife until it was too late. The boy was atop his chest in an instant, the blade’s edge pressed firmly to his throat.

“You…sick…fucking…bastard.” Alex was seething. “I can’t believe you…you…” He couldn’t even form a proper sentence he was so enraged. “Was this what you wanted, every time you saw me? Was it?”

Alex looked like he was going to spit in his face. Yassen’s state of bliss was broken in an instant, his body taking over and instinctively preparing for defense.

“I hate you! I wanted to be with you - you made me dream about you! Just like this. Every time you let me go, every time you helped me, every time you so much as looked at me, it was all for this? All so carefully designed to make me think about you? You’re disgusting.”

Alex was dreaming of him?

He truly had no idea that Alex had ever thought of him in this way before he’d initiated it in full force tonight. Something strange bubbled up inside of him until he couldn’t contain it.

Laughter. He was laughing. It was cold, and it was cruel, but it was definitely laughter. He didn’t care if Alex slit his throat.

Alex dreamed of him.

“Well Alex, now you’ll never stop dreaming of me, will you?”

Alex looked stricken. The knife fell out of his grasp.

He wasn’t capable of killing Yassen, that much was clear, but he didn’t wait for the assassin to regain his momentary lapse of composure either. He shot to his feet, hitching his trousers up as he went.

Yassen was absolutely right, Alex may hate him now, but whatever he’d felt for the man before, twisted or not, would be permanently lodged into his psyche from then on.

Yassen could not be more pleased.

Alex stumbled away, and with one last, long look at the assassin lying on his back, half undressed on the frozen earth, he took off into the woods.

Eventually he was nothing more than a small form following the city lights shimmering in the distance, with echoes of laughter at his back.

The End