for orion_fics - Fic Part 2
For: orion_fics
From: sian1359
Request:
Possessive partner, 'mine' is a real kink as is jealousy
Carson injured, especially if he's trying to get out of being treated and underplaying his injuries
Bondage -enough said
Ep tag for Misbegotten - what really happened to Carson (nothing too tame)
Title: The Mummer's Dance
Words: 4541
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: up through Sateda
Summary: They're just trying to get back to even
Author's Notes: I've combined a couple of the requests and hope it doesn't disappoint even if it's not what you are expecting.
Flex cuffs are part of the military's standard tactical gear, and Carson knows that in addition to his handgun, John keeps a combat vest in his quarters; too often he's been called upon to respond to an emergency in the dead of night or with a sense of immediacy, to give him the time to even go running down to the armory. With another partner or launching from another scenario, Carson would prefer to use something softer like silken ties or padded cuffs, but the nylon restraints will dig and mark just enough without actually causing physical damage.
And Carson knows just how damn good John looks in plastic restraints.
"Take off your shirt if you don't want to lose it," he calls back over his shoulder as he pulls out a couple of the nylon ties. "But leave your dog tags and pants on." Having been asleep in bed, John had already removed his socks and shoes. Carson spends a couple more minutes poking through the many pockets to see if he can find anything else that strikes his fancy, as well as to further focus himself into the proper mindset. He doesn't check to see if John is complying -- he can hear that John is doing something, and if John isn't going along with the program well….
Nay, no more doubts. John would nae have suggested and offered if he was nae serious. He uses his gene interface to dim the lights.
When Carson finally does turn around, John is shirtless. There is a growing flush of color that is really only obvious along the tips of his pointed ears thanks to a tan from the suns of many worlds that darkens the rest of his skin -- all over (as Carson has had the opportunity to observe both as a doctor and a lover). The black-rimmed, silvered metal tags gleam as they and his rapidly tightening, dusky nipples are showcased by the generous amount of body hair that covers John's bloody fine torso. Carson‘s eyes canna help but to follow the thickening trail of lush hair down below the waistband of the low and loose pants John's been sleeping, covering yet doing nothing to hide another sign of John's willingness to have them do this.
Neither of them say anything more as Carson moves back until he is standing directly in front of where John has remained kneeling, his crotch to John's face. He simply gives John a look and lets the plastic restraints dangle between them. Although John licks his lips more in his telltale sign of consternation than anticipation, John says nothing either and raises his arms, wrists already crossed.
For an instant Carson debates whether he should restrain John's arms behind his back, but having them in front offers him a few more possibilities, and the thought of John not being able to reach and touch due to Carson's order rather than from a physical impossibility is much more appealing.
"You can touch only when I give you permission, and talk only then too, although I will allow you to make non verbal noises," he instructs as he fastens the cuffs and cinches them tight enough that John has no give without cutting into flesh. "If you need to struggle, you are nae allowed to actually hurt yourself. I will punish you appropriately if you be violating the first two rules, and your punishment if you be breaking the third will be me stopping, untying you and then leaving. Do you understand?"
John licks his lips again and opens his mouth but then pauses and raises his face so that he can meet Carson's stern gaze. ''Yesss…" he draws out.
Carson gives a brief nod in understanding. "Sir, I be thinking. You do nae say it often enough, and Master …Master does nae really fit either of us, I be thinking."
"Yes, Sir," John repeats without either the snap of over-enthusiasm or any true submission, but then Carson isn't expecting John to actually be submissive. Forcing John to accept Carson's control is part and parcel of what Carson is being gifted with. Enforcing his own control, by taking away John's.
No doubt they are both bloody idiots, and Carson can only hope that Kate never hears about this or she'll be encouraging them to seek therapy with her for months.
Carson takes another step forward, not quite pushing against John chest with his knees, but his burgeoning cock does brush against John's lips and the wet tip of John's tongue that has come out once again. Before John takes the initiative, Carson grabs hold of John's hair in the back and yanks, taking John -- and himself -- by surprise.
"What's your safe word, boy?" he asks harshly, letting the dark thrill curl around his spine, all too aware that John's quicken breaths are helping accelerate the dampness spreading across the front of his uniform and nae giving a damn.
"C..c-clown, Sir," John says with a hitch in his voice.
Carson has to wonder about that, but gives a quick nod of acknowledgement and lets a hint of approval come to his eyes. "Clown," he repeats to make sure he has heard it correctly.
John jerks a nod.
"If you say it I will stop what I am doing, but I won't untie you, I won't leave, unless that is what we both decide is best."
John gives him another nod, licks his lips yet one more time, this one, Carson decides, finally being from arousal. He growls to keep his own breathing from sounding near as frantic, and pulls back on John's hair just a little more, until he can see the barest of winces and feel the jolt of movement that shakes through John's entire body.
Past sexual experience has shown Carson that John enjoys having his hair played with. Past observation and medical treatment experience has given Carson a pretty good idea of just how high John's pain tolerance truly is, as well as having hinted that rough actions leading up to that threshold will bring about a flood of pleasure and endorphins.
Keeping John's head back and his neck exposed, Carson uses his other hand to unzip and finally free his erection, although he makes no move to actually remove his pants and briefs. His penis springs out to rest across John's chin and lips, but Carson keeps hold of it at the base and directs it away from the reaching tongue. He paints his pre-ejaculate instead across John's cheeks and his lower lip until John closes his eyes in acceptance that even in this he has no control and the tongue disappears back into his mouth.
"Good boy," Carson praises him while still making sure to sound somewhat condescending. It is a fine line he is taking here, having only third hand knowledge of what John's turn-on and -off points might be through a series of nights spent drinking and a sharing of their personal pornography that each had brought along.
Indeed, the main reason Carson has never suggested anything like this before is because of John's propensity to put everyone else's welfare before his own, and for the fear of triggering some kind of flashback or post traumatic stress incident. What John had gone through before coming to Atlantis is nae something they have ever discussed, perhaps because John knows that Carson would have read all of his performance and medical files in detail. Unfortunately the files contain only a bare recital of times and duration of incidents (including capture by the enemy), along with final evaluations by military doctors and psychiatrist that always granted John a return to duty and eventually flight status. Similar incidences have occurred since their arrival on Atlantis, although, fortunately John has nae sustained any serious injury or lasting damage or injury -- at least physically. Unfortunately, as John will only see Kate when he is forced to, Carson just doesn't know if there is any major mental trauma waiting to be called forth, and up until now, has nae been willing to test things and find out.
Still, Carson figures a little humiliation will be acceptable -- at least in the form of taunting, since that is often the way John and Rodney communicate their friendship with one another. He also has to wonder if John is getting a bit of his own out of this, instead of just giving to Carson's needs, as if ever there was a man who might yearn to occasionally cede all control …
John is keeping his eyes closed and remaining passive, letting Carson move his head thither and yon. He plays for a bit, further glistening John's face, but such passivity is not quite what Carson finds he be wanting. This time he pushes John's head forward, pushes his penis forward too until he's forced his way into John's mouth and back against John's throat. John's eyes fly open and he chokes a wee bit before managing to relax enough to accept what Carson already knows he can take. From personal experience and a great deal of pleasure, Carson knows that John enjoys and is very good at giving head.
He will nae last long, though, if he stays down John's throat. And while he'd love nothing more than to play with John all night (maybe for most of the entire forty-eight hours of their down-time), he also knows the only reason John hasn't already crashed and burned in exhaustion is because they are both currently overdosing on adrenalin and the heightened emotions of their initial confrontation. Carson does nae intend to draw things out for too long, but neither does he plan on just coming immediately and calling it a night. He has a responsibility to show John that his offer is nae being wasted or downplayed. Which means Carson is going to have to take care in keeping both their arousals ramped up.
Which means he better concentrate just as much at keeping John on edge as he is concentrating on his own pleasure.
"You know you nae be allowed to come until I tell you," because this is nae a rule Carson remembered to spell out with the others, and John is certainly perverse enough to call him on it despite the intent of letting Carson be in control.
John nods because he cannot answer in any other way, and he chokes again from the movement. There is now a hint of tears pooling at his lashes that feeds Carson's arousal as much as the feel of John's mouth around his erection. He pulls back though, and stops pumping of his hips. He does nae remove his penis from John's mouth, does nae release his tight hold in John's hair. For a moment they just both breathe deeply, reaching for a bit of calm and taking the opportunity to actually absorb that they have done and are doing instead of both just being swept along by their reactions.
Carson can tell his penis is heavy on John's tongue, that it feels thick and tumid as John can really only pant around it. Carson's lack of movement is nae offering any relief either. John canna lick, can only kneel there and hold it -- and suck. Which Carson commands him to do, then offers encouragement and praise for John's enthusiasm by ghosting his free fingers over the rhythmic hollows appearing in John's cheeks.
"Do you have any idea what this feels like, what you feel like?" Not normally one for talking dirty -- for talking much at all during sex -- Carson canna help himself this time, the wonder and the newness and the difference being so much more than he expects. "I could just stand here and have you do nothing John, just stand here and look at you on your knees, your eyes wide and wet, your chest heaving, and your hands bound helplessly in front of you. So fucking pretty, so terribly wonderfully vulnerable."
The choke and jolt John gives this time has little to do with his penis Carson is pretty sure.
"It would take nary the barest of touches before I could come, you know. Well, certainly, I know. Because I've done it, John. Me and Rodney, and probably half this damn base."
John chokes again and this time stops sucking. His eyes are growing impossibly wider at the implication and Carson gives a wee laugh
"Och, you dinna know about the security tape of you that got circulated after that horrible business with Thalen and Phoebus? You were nae on your knees, but Teyla certainly had you bound and vulnerable." Carson pulls out completely this time, because John's is near to hyperventilating and if he chokes now, he really might not be able to breathe.
"Rodney says he's only gotten off by picturing what Teyla could have done to you then." Carson moves around to John's back and kneels down behind him, leaning over John's shoulder and just whispering his words into John's ear. He knows John is so close to saying something, sees the denial being formed and forced silent. A part of him wants John to break here, wants to be able to punish but it's too soon and he knows John can take so much more.
"Rodney's favorite fantasy is to image himself held in your place, while Teyla binds him and strips them both." Carson releases John's hair and now trails both hands down John's heaving sides and around John's stomach to push his fingers under the waistband of John's pants. One hand then drags John's pants down to his knees while the other raises back up to lift the dog tags from around John's neck. Somehow John still manages not to say anything that could be called words, but Carson knows he is holding on only by dent of pride. The sounds are something like an angry growl, something that includes a whimper and a protest and hot, horrified denial, and Carson isn't sure whether John's more mortified than aroused, whether John really believes that Carson is telling the truth or is simply keeping the scene going.
"Even he admits though," Carson continues unrelentingly, "that seeing her have her way with you would be a wicked good show." John's penis is still erect and dripping and Carson gets a full body shudder when he snags the dog tags beneath John's scrotum and gives just a little tug. John's head then drops back against Carson's shoulder as the rest of him collapses back against Carson's body until Carson is all that is holding him upright.
"But in my preferred fantasy, you're bound as you were, and it's Ronon instead of Teyla stripping away all of your clothes and defenses. Have you ever seen Ronon hard, John?" Carson presses with his words even as he is looping the chain of the dog tags around and around John's scrotum before carefully splitting the sac with one metal loop to spread John's testicles apart. The rest of the chain he winds up and around John's shaft, occasionally flicking the edges of actual tag across the crown before nudging the rounded corner of the rubber silencer into John's slit.
"Hae you ever imagined what it would be like to hae that pole up your arse, t' hae it pounding int' you, splitting you near in half? Or it being forced down your throat?" Carson drags one set of fingers up John's extended throat while keeping the other around John's bound penis and beginning to squeeze it in a tight, rhythmic pattern. His own penis is throbbing and bobbing on its own, spreading moisture across the small of John's back as he pulls John even closer.
"Not only would you be choking," which is pretty close to the sounds John's now making without anything constricting his mouth, "but most likely it would split your lips, maybe even dislocate your jaw." A quick rimming of a finger tip around the fullness of John's lips and then Carson is thrusting all four fingers into John's mouth. John gags and sucks and whines deep in his throat, his body and penis bucking against Carson's relentless grips, but still he doesn't come, somehow manages to hold on --
"Should I call him in right now, John? Maybe nae just him, but your whole team? Watch them spread you wide, Teyla bouncing on your bound cock while she comes and comes and you canna? See if you can take both Rodney and me in your mouth at the same time while Ronon plows your arse, first with his cock and then with his fucking huge fist?"
It's too much for Carson this time when John convulses against him again. He tears his fingers from John's mouth and pushes them both over, releasing John's penis and dragging at John's bound hands to make sure John catches himself against the floor before thrusting two of his sopping fingers into John's arsehole. Spit really is nae enough, but John's pushing himself back against Carson's fingers and so Carson jacks himself a couple of times to release more pre-ejaculate even though his penis is already pretty coated. He spreads the new moisture and then switches fingers with penis fast enough that what might have been a protest from John turns into a broken cry and hiss as Carson's entry burns and tears at them both.
The pain only makes it better, as do John's denials and Carson's name spilling from John's lips in between pants and moans. Absolutely nothing there sounds like clown, and maybe John has simply become overwhelmed and has forgotten the no speaking rule, but Carson more thinks that John is doing it deliberately.
Carson growls at this exhibition of control. He reaches for the tube of lotion he'd found in John's vest, squeezing it until it explodes between his hands. He then reaches down and begins jacking John with a brutal, punishing pace, the chain of the dogtags now loose, but still digging in with every hand movement. Carson moves his own body agonizingly slowly, drawing his penis out until only his tip is still sheathed. He slathers another handful of lotion over his own shaft before grinding back into John, mercilessly deep. Keeping the counter rhythm going, Carson actually pulling completely out a couple of times only to slam back in, tugging at John's balls and squeezing the base of John's penis every time John draws up and is just about to shoot.
Carson canna keep things balanced thusly for too long however. He lets the desperation build up in them both and then gives into his own needs without warning and damn near shakes them both apart.
"Carson!"
"Nay!" he roars and still pounds although he's spent, denying John and letting go because John has been talking, because Carson wants to -- because he can, and John can do nothing because his hands are bound and he is supporting both their weight with stiffened yet trembling muscles. Once more Carson is moving with the speed of a trauma surgeon, switching penis for fingers this time and stabbing with the precision of the doctor that he is. John is nae one of those men who can orgasm from prostate stimulation, but it does keep him screaming and Carson figures he can listen to and keep John begging like this for hours. Wonders, when he finally deigns to relent, just how many orgasms he'll be able to coax out of John, and in how short a time. How many before John's milked and only dry ejaculating, before his screams are just hoarse, wordless pleadings.
"Och, you stupid, senseless bugger." The sudden image in his mind is nae John begging, but himself.
Carson immediately stills his fingers and sets his other hand to making soothing circles on John's trembling flank, trying to comfort and calm them both.
"Clown, indeed," because how could Carson have ever been thinking that John would safeword? When this is a man who's never met a dangerous mission he would nae volunteer for to keep someone else from having to, and who's the first to jump in front a bullet or a wraith hand for people he dinna even know, much less for a friend -- for his lover. Carson knows John would do absolutely anything to keep him from experiencing any hurt.
Except John had nae. He had nae been able protect Carson from Michael or Lucius --
Aye, guilt and remorse both, and so now offering penance.
Because Carson had demanded John show contrition.
He eases his fingers out so very carefully. John's quiet now, except for the terrible harsh breathing that just might be sobs. While John is still erect, Carson has no doubt that it's because of brutal stimulation he'd been meting out and nae from any desire left in John.
"Come back," he coaxes, gently pulling and taking Johns weight again against his own thighs and chest so that he can get John down and then rolled over supine. John's combat knife is within a stretched reach, and Carson eases it out of the sheath and rests the tip under where the restraints have stretched a little from John's involuntary flexing against them. He'll need treatment, maybe only some lotion to hydrate the abraded skin, but maybe even some bandages, and Carson is nae sure how either of them are going to explain that.
Not important now.
Carson sheathes the knife again and tosses it back onto the nightstand. John's nae really moving other than shuddering in body and breaths. It's up to Carson to pull John's wrists apart and he begins to rub briskly at the flesh above the livid marks to quicken the restoration of full circulation. He wants to kiss and hold John, to wipe at the tears that now spill behind tightly closed eyes and disappear amidst sweat soaked strands of hair, but there are things Carson needs to check first, as a doctor before the lover.
John's dog tags are draped across his groin, caught up in a twist of metal but thankfully no longer tight against any part of his flesh. There are little beaded indents and bruises, red and white marks both, but nowhere is the skin actually broken and the abrasions are much less deep than the ones around John's wrists. Carson frees him here too and uses his tongue to ease away the hurts and the pre-ejaculate that has matted the surrounding hair in Mandelbrot patterns. He licks cleans the patches between hip and thigh, between groin and thigh and then lets the warm, moist flat of his tongue rasp across John's swollen arsehole.
John canna come from prostate stimulation, but he can alone from rimming, yet Carson also moves one of his hands over one of John's, to have them both begin to jack John's penis in slow, careful undulations that match the rhythm of Carson's tongue. John's body ratchets back into tense lines and rigid planes, but his breathing is becoming deep instead of frantic. Carson starts alternating between soothing swipes and stimulating stabs of his tongue against the quivering and musky nerve endings, lets John quicken and tighten the pace of their hands. Finally John is flying, is falling and Carson is there to catch and bring him down.
Angry at discovering that he is still wearing his uniform, Carson strips quickly, efficiently, and uses his shirt to wipe at the ejaculate that now stripes John's body. Next he uses his tongue and fingers again, this time against the sweat and the tears as he draws himself up John's body. John is so limp and compliant that Carson need only to tangle their legs and twist his hips to get them each rolled onto their sides. While the bed would be much more comfortable, he knows John is nae up to moving yet, and Carson decides manhandling him there would be counter-productive. By using his foot he can snag at the blanket John uses and draw it down and then close enough that he can then reach behind himself and grab it to cover them both.
"I'd love to say you should nae have done that," Carson begins, but then backs off when he recognizes the expression of concern and discomfort that are now overtaking John's face.
"Nay, we could talk this to death, love, and maybe we should have found a better way, but it is done. It is more communicating then we've done in months, and we'd both be lying if either of us says we are sorry. On the other hand," Carson adds just a bit more sharply even as he brings a hand up to cup against John's damp cheek. "On the other hand, I dinna ever want you to accept or let either of us use sex as a form of punishment again. Tell me I'm being a dunderhead and closing you out. Just as I will call you a prick if that's what you're being. We'll shout just as you and Rodney do, and maybe I'll even find myself punching you again, but no fighting and hurting with sex."
John nods cautiously and then shows Carson absolutely everything he is feeling, the guilt and remorse as well as the love and trust. In return Carson lets John see his doubts and his fear, but also his resolve and hope and his own abiding love and trust before tilting into exchange a slow, soulful kiss. When they draw back Carson canna help but offer the most hesitant of grins.
"That's nae to say we canna explore a wee bit of roughness now again. If you want it or even pain in our sex, I be thinking that after this I can accommodate you." And was nae that just one more surprise on a day of surprises.
"If you enjoyed the bondage or denial, or any of a handful of other kinks, we can try again and maybe I'll even offer up a few of my own," he continues and gives John a peck on the nose. "But only because it is something we might want and enjoy and nae because either or both of us are seeking some sort of absolution. I appreciate that you are willing and able to protect me under most circumstances, and it was wrong of me to blame you when you could nae -- Nay, love," he stops John from arguing or protesting with a single finger to John's lips. "You ceded me control tonight, and part of that means I can admit and take responsibility for my own mistakes. Michael was just as much my victim as I was his. We can all be sorry that any of it happened, can do what we can to make sure something like that does nae be happening again. But you owe me nothing but your caring."
This might not always be enough, but it's what they have, what they can give, and such honesty between them is the one thing they can always control, even if they have to show their masks to everyone else.
They would just have to make it be enough.
From: sian1359
Request:
Possessive partner, 'mine' is a real kink as is jealousy
Carson injured, especially if he's trying to get out of being treated and underplaying his injuries
Bondage -enough said
Ep tag for Misbegotten - what really happened to Carson (nothing too tame)
Title: The Mummer's Dance
Words: 4541
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: up through Sateda
Summary: They're just trying to get back to even
Author's Notes: I've combined a couple of the requests and hope it doesn't disappoint even if it's not what you are expecting.
Flex cuffs are part of the military's standard tactical gear, and Carson knows that in addition to his handgun, John keeps a combat vest in his quarters; too often he's been called upon to respond to an emergency in the dead of night or with a sense of immediacy, to give him the time to even go running down to the armory. With another partner or launching from another scenario, Carson would prefer to use something softer like silken ties or padded cuffs, but the nylon restraints will dig and mark just enough without actually causing physical damage.
And Carson knows just how damn good John looks in plastic restraints.
"Take off your shirt if you don't want to lose it," he calls back over his shoulder as he pulls out a couple of the nylon ties. "But leave your dog tags and pants on." Having been asleep in bed, John had already removed his socks and shoes. Carson spends a couple more minutes poking through the many pockets to see if he can find anything else that strikes his fancy, as well as to further focus himself into the proper mindset. He doesn't check to see if John is complying -- he can hear that John is doing something, and if John isn't going along with the program well….
Nay, no more doubts. John would nae have suggested and offered if he was nae serious. He uses his gene interface to dim the lights.
When Carson finally does turn around, John is shirtless. There is a growing flush of color that is really only obvious along the tips of his pointed ears thanks to a tan from the suns of many worlds that darkens the rest of his skin -- all over (as Carson has had the opportunity to observe both as a doctor and a lover). The black-rimmed, silvered metal tags gleam as they and his rapidly tightening, dusky nipples are showcased by the generous amount of body hair that covers John's bloody fine torso. Carson‘s eyes canna help but to follow the thickening trail of lush hair down below the waistband of the low and loose pants John's been sleeping, covering yet doing nothing to hide another sign of John's willingness to have them do this.
Neither of them say anything more as Carson moves back until he is standing directly in front of where John has remained kneeling, his crotch to John's face. He simply gives John a look and lets the plastic restraints dangle between them. Although John licks his lips more in his telltale sign of consternation than anticipation, John says nothing either and raises his arms, wrists already crossed.
For an instant Carson debates whether he should restrain John's arms behind his back, but having them in front offers him a few more possibilities, and the thought of John not being able to reach and touch due to Carson's order rather than from a physical impossibility is much more appealing.
"You can touch only when I give you permission, and talk only then too, although I will allow you to make non verbal noises," he instructs as he fastens the cuffs and cinches them tight enough that John has no give without cutting into flesh. "If you need to struggle, you are nae allowed to actually hurt yourself. I will punish you appropriately if you be violating the first two rules, and your punishment if you be breaking the third will be me stopping, untying you and then leaving. Do you understand?"
John licks his lips again and opens his mouth but then pauses and raises his face so that he can meet Carson's stern gaze. ''Yesss…" he draws out.
Carson gives a brief nod in understanding. "Sir, I be thinking. You do nae say it often enough, and Master …Master does nae really fit either of us, I be thinking."
"Yes, Sir," John repeats without either the snap of over-enthusiasm or any true submission, but then Carson isn't expecting John to actually be submissive. Forcing John to accept Carson's control is part and parcel of what Carson is being gifted with. Enforcing his own control, by taking away John's.
No doubt they are both bloody idiots, and Carson can only hope that Kate never hears about this or she'll be encouraging them to seek therapy with her for months.
Carson takes another step forward, not quite pushing against John chest with his knees, but his burgeoning cock does brush against John's lips and the wet tip of John's tongue that has come out once again. Before John takes the initiative, Carson grabs hold of John's hair in the back and yanks, taking John -- and himself -- by surprise.
"What's your safe word, boy?" he asks harshly, letting the dark thrill curl around his spine, all too aware that John's quicken breaths are helping accelerate the dampness spreading across the front of his uniform and nae giving a damn.
"C..c-clown, Sir," John says with a hitch in his voice.
Carson has to wonder about that, but gives a quick nod of acknowledgement and lets a hint of approval come to his eyes. "Clown," he repeats to make sure he has heard it correctly.
John jerks a nod.
"If you say it I will stop what I am doing, but I won't untie you, I won't leave, unless that is what we both decide is best."
John gives him another nod, licks his lips yet one more time, this one, Carson decides, finally being from arousal. He growls to keep his own breathing from sounding near as frantic, and pulls back on John's hair just a little more, until he can see the barest of winces and feel the jolt of movement that shakes through John's entire body.
Past sexual experience has shown Carson that John enjoys having his hair played with. Past observation and medical treatment experience has given Carson a pretty good idea of just how high John's pain tolerance truly is, as well as having hinted that rough actions leading up to that threshold will bring about a flood of pleasure and endorphins.
Keeping John's head back and his neck exposed, Carson uses his other hand to unzip and finally free his erection, although he makes no move to actually remove his pants and briefs. His penis springs out to rest across John's chin and lips, but Carson keeps hold of it at the base and directs it away from the reaching tongue. He paints his pre-ejaculate instead across John's cheeks and his lower lip until John closes his eyes in acceptance that even in this he has no control and the tongue disappears back into his mouth.
"Good boy," Carson praises him while still making sure to sound somewhat condescending. It is a fine line he is taking here, having only third hand knowledge of what John's turn-on and -off points might be through a series of nights spent drinking and a sharing of their personal pornography that each had brought along.
Indeed, the main reason Carson has never suggested anything like this before is because of John's propensity to put everyone else's welfare before his own, and for the fear of triggering some kind of flashback or post traumatic stress incident. What John had gone through before coming to Atlantis is nae something they have ever discussed, perhaps because John knows that Carson would have read all of his performance and medical files in detail. Unfortunately the files contain only a bare recital of times and duration of incidents (including capture by the enemy), along with final evaluations by military doctors and psychiatrist that always granted John a return to duty and eventually flight status. Similar incidences have occurred since their arrival on Atlantis, although, fortunately John has nae sustained any serious injury or lasting damage or injury -- at least physically. Unfortunately, as John will only see Kate when he is forced to, Carson just doesn't know if there is any major mental trauma waiting to be called forth, and up until now, has nae been willing to test things and find out.
Still, Carson figures a little humiliation will be acceptable -- at least in the form of taunting, since that is often the way John and Rodney communicate their friendship with one another. He also has to wonder if John is getting a bit of his own out of this, instead of just giving to Carson's needs, as if ever there was a man who might yearn to occasionally cede all control …
John is keeping his eyes closed and remaining passive, letting Carson move his head thither and yon. He plays for a bit, further glistening John's face, but such passivity is not quite what Carson finds he be wanting. This time he pushes John's head forward, pushes his penis forward too until he's forced his way into John's mouth and back against John's throat. John's eyes fly open and he chokes a wee bit before managing to relax enough to accept what Carson already knows he can take. From personal experience and a great deal of pleasure, Carson knows that John enjoys and is very good at giving head.
He will nae last long, though, if he stays down John's throat. And while he'd love nothing more than to play with John all night (maybe for most of the entire forty-eight hours of their down-time), he also knows the only reason John hasn't already crashed and burned in exhaustion is because they are both currently overdosing on adrenalin and the heightened emotions of their initial confrontation. Carson does nae intend to draw things out for too long, but neither does he plan on just coming immediately and calling it a night. He has a responsibility to show John that his offer is nae being wasted or downplayed. Which means Carson is going to have to take care in keeping both their arousals ramped up.
Which means he better concentrate just as much at keeping John on edge as he is concentrating on his own pleasure.
"You know you nae be allowed to come until I tell you," because this is nae a rule Carson remembered to spell out with the others, and John is certainly perverse enough to call him on it despite the intent of letting Carson be in control.
John nods because he cannot answer in any other way, and he chokes again from the movement. There is now a hint of tears pooling at his lashes that feeds Carson's arousal as much as the feel of John's mouth around his erection. He pulls back though, and stops pumping of his hips. He does nae remove his penis from John's mouth, does nae release his tight hold in John's hair. For a moment they just both breathe deeply, reaching for a bit of calm and taking the opportunity to actually absorb that they have done and are doing instead of both just being swept along by their reactions.
Carson can tell his penis is heavy on John's tongue, that it feels thick and tumid as John can really only pant around it. Carson's lack of movement is nae offering any relief either. John canna lick, can only kneel there and hold it -- and suck. Which Carson commands him to do, then offers encouragement and praise for John's enthusiasm by ghosting his free fingers over the rhythmic hollows appearing in John's cheeks.
"Do you have any idea what this feels like, what you feel like?" Not normally one for talking dirty -- for talking much at all during sex -- Carson canna help himself this time, the wonder and the newness and the difference being so much more than he expects. "I could just stand here and have you do nothing John, just stand here and look at you on your knees, your eyes wide and wet, your chest heaving, and your hands bound helplessly in front of you. So fucking pretty, so terribly wonderfully vulnerable."
The choke and jolt John gives this time has little to do with his penis Carson is pretty sure.
"It would take nary the barest of touches before I could come, you know. Well, certainly, I know. Because I've done it, John. Me and Rodney, and probably half this damn base."
John chokes again and this time stops sucking. His eyes are growing impossibly wider at the implication and Carson gives a wee laugh
"Och, you dinna know about the security tape of you that got circulated after that horrible business with Thalen and Phoebus? You were nae on your knees, but Teyla certainly had you bound and vulnerable." Carson pulls out completely this time, because John's is near to hyperventilating and if he chokes now, he really might not be able to breathe.
"Rodney says he's only gotten off by picturing what Teyla could have done to you then." Carson moves around to John's back and kneels down behind him, leaning over John's shoulder and just whispering his words into John's ear. He knows John is so close to saying something, sees the denial being formed and forced silent. A part of him wants John to break here, wants to be able to punish but it's too soon and he knows John can take so much more.
"Rodney's favorite fantasy is to image himself held in your place, while Teyla binds him and strips them both." Carson releases John's hair and now trails both hands down John's heaving sides and around John's stomach to push his fingers under the waistband of John's pants. One hand then drags John's pants down to his knees while the other raises back up to lift the dog tags from around John's neck. Somehow John still manages not to say anything that could be called words, but Carson knows he is holding on only by dent of pride. The sounds are something like an angry growl, something that includes a whimper and a protest and hot, horrified denial, and Carson isn't sure whether John's more mortified than aroused, whether John really believes that Carson is telling the truth or is simply keeping the scene going.
"Even he admits though," Carson continues unrelentingly, "that seeing her have her way with you would be a wicked good show." John's penis is still erect and dripping and Carson gets a full body shudder when he snags the dog tags beneath John's scrotum and gives just a little tug. John's head then drops back against Carson's shoulder as the rest of him collapses back against Carson's body until Carson is all that is holding him upright.
"But in my preferred fantasy, you're bound as you were, and it's Ronon instead of Teyla stripping away all of your clothes and defenses. Have you ever seen Ronon hard, John?" Carson presses with his words even as he is looping the chain of the dog tags around and around John's scrotum before carefully splitting the sac with one metal loop to spread John's testicles apart. The rest of the chain he winds up and around John's shaft, occasionally flicking the edges of actual tag across the crown before nudging the rounded corner of the rubber silencer into John's slit.
"Hae you ever imagined what it would be like to hae that pole up your arse, t' hae it pounding int' you, splitting you near in half? Or it being forced down your throat?" Carson drags one set of fingers up John's extended throat while keeping the other around John's bound penis and beginning to squeeze it in a tight, rhythmic pattern. His own penis is throbbing and bobbing on its own, spreading moisture across the small of John's back as he pulls John even closer.
"Not only would you be choking," which is pretty close to the sounds John's now making without anything constricting his mouth, "but most likely it would split your lips, maybe even dislocate your jaw." A quick rimming of a finger tip around the fullness of John's lips and then Carson is thrusting all four fingers into John's mouth. John gags and sucks and whines deep in his throat, his body and penis bucking against Carson's relentless grips, but still he doesn't come, somehow manages to hold on --
"Should I call him in right now, John? Maybe nae just him, but your whole team? Watch them spread you wide, Teyla bouncing on your bound cock while she comes and comes and you canna? See if you can take both Rodney and me in your mouth at the same time while Ronon plows your arse, first with his cock and then with his fucking huge fist?"
It's too much for Carson this time when John convulses against him again. He tears his fingers from John's mouth and pushes them both over, releasing John's penis and dragging at John's bound hands to make sure John catches himself against the floor before thrusting two of his sopping fingers into John's arsehole. Spit really is nae enough, but John's pushing himself back against Carson's fingers and so Carson jacks himself a couple of times to release more pre-ejaculate even though his penis is already pretty coated. He spreads the new moisture and then switches fingers with penis fast enough that what might have been a protest from John turns into a broken cry and hiss as Carson's entry burns and tears at them both.
The pain only makes it better, as do John's denials and Carson's name spilling from John's lips in between pants and moans. Absolutely nothing there sounds like clown, and maybe John has simply become overwhelmed and has forgotten the no speaking rule, but Carson more thinks that John is doing it deliberately.
Carson growls at this exhibition of control. He reaches for the tube of lotion he'd found in John's vest, squeezing it until it explodes between his hands. He then reaches down and begins jacking John with a brutal, punishing pace, the chain of the dogtags now loose, but still digging in with every hand movement. Carson moves his own body agonizingly slowly, drawing his penis out until only his tip is still sheathed. He slathers another handful of lotion over his own shaft before grinding back into John, mercilessly deep. Keeping the counter rhythm going, Carson actually pulling completely out a couple of times only to slam back in, tugging at John's balls and squeezing the base of John's penis every time John draws up and is just about to shoot.
Carson canna keep things balanced thusly for too long however. He lets the desperation build up in them both and then gives into his own needs without warning and damn near shakes them both apart.
"Carson!"
"Nay!" he roars and still pounds although he's spent, denying John and letting go because John has been talking, because Carson wants to -- because he can, and John can do nothing because his hands are bound and he is supporting both their weight with stiffened yet trembling muscles. Once more Carson is moving with the speed of a trauma surgeon, switching penis for fingers this time and stabbing with the precision of the doctor that he is. John is nae one of those men who can orgasm from prostate stimulation, but it does keep him screaming and Carson figures he can listen to and keep John begging like this for hours. Wonders, when he finally deigns to relent, just how many orgasms he'll be able to coax out of John, and in how short a time. How many before John's milked and only dry ejaculating, before his screams are just hoarse, wordless pleadings.
"Och, you stupid, senseless bugger." The sudden image in his mind is nae John begging, but himself.
Carson immediately stills his fingers and sets his other hand to making soothing circles on John's trembling flank, trying to comfort and calm them both.
"Clown, indeed," because how could Carson have ever been thinking that John would safeword? When this is a man who's never met a dangerous mission he would nae volunteer for to keep someone else from having to, and who's the first to jump in front a bullet or a wraith hand for people he dinna even know, much less for a friend -- for his lover. Carson knows John would do absolutely anything to keep him from experiencing any hurt.
Except John had nae. He had nae been able protect Carson from Michael or Lucius --
Aye, guilt and remorse both, and so now offering penance.
Because Carson had demanded John show contrition.
He eases his fingers out so very carefully. John's quiet now, except for the terrible harsh breathing that just might be sobs. While John is still erect, Carson has no doubt that it's because of brutal stimulation he'd been meting out and nae from any desire left in John.
"Come back," he coaxes, gently pulling and taking Johns weight again against his own thighs and chest so that he can get John down and then rolled over supine. John's combat knife is within a stretched reach, and Carson eases it out of the sheath and rests the tip under where the restraints have stretched a little from John's involuntary flexing against them. He'll need treatment, maybe only some lotion to hydrate the abraded skin, but maybe even some bandages, and Carson is nae sure how either of them are going to explain that.
Not important now.
Carson sheathes the knife again and tosses it back onto the nightstand. John's nae really moving other than shuddering in body and breaths. It's up to Carson to pull John's wrists apart and he begins to rub briskly at the flesh above the livid marks to quicken the restoration of full circulation. He wants to kiss and hold John, to wipe at the tears that now spill behind tightly closed eyes and disappear amidst sweat soaked strands of hair, but there are things Carson needs to check first, as a doctor before the lover.
John's dog tags are draped across his groin, caught up in a twist of metal but thankfully no longer tight against any part of his flesh. There are little beaded indents and bruises, red and white marks both, but nowhere is the skin actually broken and the abrasions are much less deep than the ones around John's wrists. Carson frees him here too and uses his tongue to ease away the hurts and the pre-ejaculate that has matted the surrounding hair in Mandelbrot patterns. He licks cleans the patches between hip and thigh, between groin and thigh and then lets the warm, moist flat of his tongue rasp across John's swollen arsehole.
John canna come from prostate stimulation, but he can alone from rimming, yet Carson also moves one of his hands over one of John's, to have them both begin to jack John's penis in slow, careful undulations that match the rhythm of Carson's tongue. John's body ratchets back into tense lines and rigid planes, but his breathing is becoming deep instead of frantic. Carson starts alternating between soothing swipes and stimulating stabs of his tongue against the quivering and musky nerve endings, lets John quicken and tighten the pace of their hands. Finally John is flying, is falling and Carson is there to catch and bring him down.
Angry at discovering that he is still wearing his uniform, Carson strips quickly, efficiently, and uses his shirt to wipe at the ejaculate that now stripes John's body. Next he uses his tongue and fingers again, this time against the sweat and the tears as he draws himself up John's body. John is so limp and compliant that Carson need only to tangle their legs and twist his hips to get them each rolled onto their sides. While the bed would be much more comfortable, he knows John is nae up to moving yet, and Carson decides manhandling him there would be counter-productive. By using his foot he can snag at the blanket John uses and draw it down and then close enough that he can then reach behind himself and grab it to cover them both.
"I'd love to say you should nae have done that," Carson begins, but then backs off when he recognizes the expression of concern and discomfort that are now overtaking John's face.
"Nay, we could talk this to death, love, and maybe we should have found a better way, but it is done. It is more communicating then we've done in months, and we'd both be lying if either of us says we are sorry. On the other hand," Carson adds just a bit more sharply even as he brings a hand up to cup against John's damp cheek. "On the other hand, I dinna ever want you to accept or let either of us use sex as a form of punishment again. Tell me I'm being a dunderhead and closing you out. Just as I will call you a prick if that's what you're being. We'll shout just as you and Rodney do, and maybe I'll even find myself punching you again, but no fighting and hurting with sex."
John nods cautiously and then shows Carson absolutely everything he is feeling, the guilt and remorse as well as the love and trust. In return Carson lets John see his doubts and his fear, but also his resolve and hope and his own abiding love and trust before tilting into exchange a slow, soulful kiss. When they draw back Carson canna help but offer the most hesitant of grins.
"That's nae to say we canna explore a wee bit of roughness now again. If you want it or even pain in our sex, I be thinking that after this I can accommodate you." And was nae that just one more surprise on a day of surprises.
"If you enjoyed the bondage or denial, or any of a handful of other kinks, we can try again and maybe I'll even offer up a few of my own," he continues and gives John a peck on the nose. "But only because it is something we might want and enjoy and nae because either or both of us are seeking some sort of absolution. I appreciate that you are willing and able to protect me under most circumstances, and it was wrong of me to blame you when you could nae -- Nay, love," he stops John from arguing or protesting with a single finger to John's lips. "You ceded me control tonight, and part of that means I can admit and take responsibility for my own mistakes. Michael was just as much my victim as I was his. We can all be sorry that any of it happened, can do what we can to make sure something like that does nae be happening again. But you owe me nothing but your caring."
This might not always be enough, but it's what they have, what they can give, and such honesty between them is the one thing they can always control, even if they have to show their masks to everyone else.
They would just have to make it be enough.