Waltz to Kalinka - Daydream
Title: Waltz to Kalinka - Chapter 2: Daydream
Pairing: Liquid Snake/Psycho Mantis
Rating: NC-17 for handjob of dubious consent
Summary: Mantis fights with Ocelot. Liquid helps the psychic relax. With an orgasm.
Written by carthight_9, Co-written/Betaed by plus5pencil
Prologue: CQC
Chapter 1: Relief
Chapter 2: Daydream
Chapter 3: Xylophone Lullaby
Chapter 4: Something There
Author's Notes: Writing out Mantis and Ocelot yelling at each other was the most fun I've had with writing in a while. I don't know what it is, but writing dialogue comes to me extremely easily, so I expect a lot of you readers might find the dialogue to be very agreeable. The pronz, once more, is a quickie handjob. This time, though, it's our dearest Mantis on the full receivng end. I'm all for butts grinding against clothed dicks, so you'll probably see a lot of dry humping as things get more serious between these two. Part four is already in progress, and we shall see just what these two really think about where things are going. See you then~
Beta's Notes: OT's really getting the hang of writing smut. This is only her second piece and she's taken to my teachings very well. But it's so fluffy (and going to get much worse)! CURSE OT >8U. Decoy Octopus is such a non-action guy, lol. Ocelot menacing someone with a tub of IcyHot is still on my PChat to-do list, but his flashy outfits are such a pain to draw!
-Daydream-
Keeping up the silence was very easy. No one but them knew about what had happened when Mantis went on the rescue mission and neither of them had any reason to bring it up again. In theory at least. In practice, it proved to be a bit more complicated. Psycho Mantis found that only the best of his self-distracting strategies could keep him functioning like usual. Thank god one of them involved fighting.
Once again, they had moved house. The base was small and designed to be used by whoever needed it. There was a kitchenette, a group shower, and only three true rooms to sleep in not counting what passed for a living room area and the med ward. Actually, “ward” was a bit of a misnomer. There were all of two cots and enough complex medical supplies to let you know someone was poisoned, had a fever, high cholesterol and (if you were really unfortunate) was dying of thousands of possible fungal infections. Nobody slept in there, but it was generally understood that someone was always sleeping in the living room so Mantis got a bedroom all to himself. Wolf and Raven shared another. Ocelot, Liquid and Octopus took turns sharing the third one.
As things go, Mantis found himself resting in the living room area. The couches weren’t all that comfortable, but at least he could lie down for a bit and read. It was a slow and ordinary day with nothing to do. So what comes along to ruin things, you ask? One name: Ocelot.
The torture technician has a number of odd talents. Among the many is his ability to know just how to piss Mantis off on any given day of the week. Today was going to be no exception. Conversations were going on that day and Ocelot happened to be engaging Octopus in a spirited conversation about the techniques he used in torture in case the disguise master would ever need to impersonate the team sadist.
“Now,” Mantis could hear Ocelot saying. “No man would ever truly be comfortable in surgically removing another man’s balls, but it is something I know how to do and have done in the past.”
Ugh… Mantis sunk further into the couch, hoping they’d pass him by. Discussions about testicular torture? Fuck that noise. The book in his hands became a shield against the cringe worthy descriptions floating along the air to his ears. Always when he was trying to relax. Always.
Fate seemed intent on spiting him. The conversation grew louder as the two drew closer and now you could hear the spurs of Ocelot’s books clinking against the floor. Spurs. Seriously. The man showed off way too damn much.
“Pretty much. After you get the knife pressed against their…” His voice died down. The cat sensed that they were not alone. “Hello Mantis.”
“Mantis?” Octopus looked around the room.
“I’m here.” Like a vampire from his coffin did Mantis rise and appear over the back of the couch. “Is there a reason for the discussion that was just underway, or are you just fucking around again?”
“A little bit of both,” Ocelot nodded. “What are you doing lying around?”
“Reading a book. You might want to try it. I know some self-help books that can give you some tips on how to be less of an asshole and a sadist.”
“Only if it works on you first.”
Octopus sighed and took a few steps back. No a moment went by when those two weren’t at each other’s throats. Whenever they got near each other, it was just better to stand back a little and hope the fur didn’t fly too much. He could see Mantis’ eyes from behind the mask. They were narrowed and mean. Ocelot returned the glare with a grin.
“Anyway,” said Ocelot, turning back to his new pupil. “You should invest in that IcyHot cream. It has some surprising effects when applied to the right portion of the anato-“
“Take the lesson somewhere else, you sick fuck!” Mantis did not want the mental images that were springing into his mind.
“Oh, I’m the sick fuck?” Ocelot turned back to Mantis in full, shooing away Octopus. “You’re the one who dresses in a gimp suit.”
“At least I leave most of my corpses in one piece.”
“I’m not the one who looks like a corpse.”
“Fuck you.”
“I’d rather not. Even I won’t toy with necrophilia.”
“And your affair with your guns is any better?”
“Drop dead, Skin-and-Bones.”
“Tried that once. The devil didn’t want to deal with me yet. He’s got plans for you though. Sharp objects going where they shouldn’t.”
“I’m not sure that fetish of yours is something you should discuss so frankly. Don’t ask, don’t tell and all that.”
“You’re pretty suspect too. Does anyone know about your little thing for Big Boss?”
“Enough!” Octopus stepped between the two, knowing full well when Mantis would start throwing things around. “Ocelot, stop ticking him off. Mantis, you know better.”
Ocelot growled and clenched his fists. Mantis wasn’t quiet done yet. He wanted so badly to smack Ocelot around with something. Something heavy that might not leave anything behind if it clocked the torture technician in the head hard enough.
“Out of the way, Pagliacci.” Mantis said calmly. “This isn’t your fight.”
“Yeah,” Agreed Ocelot. “You wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. He might make you do something unspeakable with a handgu-“A bookcase at the other end of the room was relieved of one of its hardcover encyclopedia volumes. It flew at Ocelot’s head and nicked his ear before crashing into the wall.
Octopus flinched and ducked, hands over his head. “Will you stop that?” He yelled. Two more encyclopedia volumes (‘A’ and ‘D’, he’d discover later) sailed across the room and would have at least broken Ocelot’s nose had the cowboy not ducked. Octopus ran a few feet away. “I’m going to get Liquid.” He was ignored. Good enough for him. It meant he’d still be alive. Octopus ran through the base, calling for the boss. He was the only one who could get Mantis to calm down on most given occasions. Raven could too, and Wolf could always stick him with a tranq, but Raven always ran the risk of grabbing Mantis too tightly and they all knew better than to put drugs in the psychic’s system. So, Liquid it was.
It took a few precious moments, but he did find the boss-man. Liquid was in the commander’s office, talking on the phone with someone.
“Yes sir. Everything went according to plan. No of the enemy forces survived and the team came out in one piece.”
Octopus knocked on the door frame. Liquid looked at him and raised a shapely brow. Octopus made a clawing motion with his right hand and a wave-like movement with his left. Liquid held the phone in the crook between his neck and shoulder.
“Uhm, yes sir. Everything’s going alright.” He returned the gestures with his own: a fist pressed against an open palm.
Octopus nodded.
“Yes sir. Could I call you back later? There seems to be a little tiff going on. Yes sir, I’ll keep the body count to a minimum. Yes, the base will survive. Thank you, sir. Goodbye.” The phone went on the hook with a slam.
“I’m going to kill them.” Liquid growled, stomping off.
Octopus jogged after him. “I tried to get them to stop,” He began meekly. “They ignored me.”
“I’m not mad at you,” Octopus kind of doubted that, but he still led the boss to where he had left Ocelot and Mantis to their war games. He didn’t really have to since they could both hear Russian being spoken in increasingly loud and angry tones as the hallways passed on by. The two entered the living room area just in time to see a couch go sailing past the doorway.
“Your mother must be so proud seeing you act this way!” They heard Ocelot yell. “I bet she’s turning in her grave!”
“Go to hell you whoreson!” Mantis practically screamed back, accompanied by another crash. “At least I knew my father!”
“ENOUGH!!” Liquid’s voice resonated loudly over the din, bringing the fight to a temporary standstill. Dust settled and you could see Psycho Mantis standing in the middle of the room with many objects lying at his feet. His breath came out in hissing pants and Liquid could plainly see the rage in his body language. Ocelot stood a few feet away, backed up against the wall. He was grinning widely. Liquid’s boots crunched over unfortunate objects broken in the line of fire as he walked over to Mantis.
The psychic regarded him quietly, hands curling into tight fists. Liquid put Mantis’ arm in a one-handed vice grip and glared hard at Ocelot. “This is the second time I’ve had to deal with something like this in the last month.”
He fought to keep his voice calm. “On the third strike, you’re a dead man.”
Blondie stomped off with Mantis in tow. Mantis reluctantly allowed himself to be led away from the miniature warzone. Octopus stepped out of their way, his eyes wide.
“Make sure he cleans this up,” Liquid ordered. Octopus swallowed nervously and glanced at Ocelot. The wannabe cowboy was still smiling, but it seemed to be a different one than that “thrill of the battle” grin from before. This new one was more along the lines of “so that’s how it is”. Neither Liquid nor Mantis noticed the change in expression, the former much too busy dragging way the agitated psychic, and the latter fuming and wincing at how much Liquid’s grip hurt.
Mantis outright flinched as Liquid kicked open the door to the psychic’s room. You could see parts of other leather outfits scattered around like decorations. Liquid shut the door and locked it, walking Mantis over to the bed and tossing him down. The thin man bounced on the mattress and curled up a little, feeling overwhelmed, vulnerable, and confused. He was perfectly capable of throwing Liquid around, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t shaken up over being manhandled.
The bed frame creaked as Liquid sat down.
“What the fuck was that all about?” He asked.
The psychic did not speak, but lashed out at Liquid with an open palm. It was a futile effort and he knew it, but using his powers again so soon would put him in a worse mood than he was already in. Too much stress at once. Along with that, he knew there was only so much he could do to fight against Liquid and his manhandling. He trusted Blondie enough not to be as defensive as he got with Ocelot straight away, but there was still that instinctive fear of broken bones and a bloody nose that even he couldn’t repress.
Liquid caught him by the wrist and turned where he sat. Before Mantis had time to register it, he was flipped onto his stomach, arms held behind his back. Blondie kept his arms in place and turned him slowly onto his back, his large form pinning the frail psychic to the bed. Mantis stared with wide eyes at the angry blue orbs that were framed by sun-bleached locks. Liquid had a look on his face like he was going to bite someone’s head off.
“Show me what happened, if you’re so against speaking.” Liquid said, voice calm as frozen steel.
The heart that beat within Mantis’ chest jack hammered against his ribs. Damn whomever kept pushing them together like this and damn their motives. A warm rush went through him as he felt himself pressed hard against the mattress. It was the warmth of…lust. It had to be that, because it was the only way to explain why it felt like his cheeks were burning from underneath and the way certain parts of his anatomy woke up with a tingle and a dull ache respectively.
What was one man to do? He complied and brought Liquid into his mind. The memories of the fight were still very fresh, and he kept the allowed intrusion for as long as it took to go through all the memories. Liquid heard Ocelot’s harsh and sexual comments and felt the memory of the agitation Mantis had felt at hearing those words and how they made Mantis ashamed for his repressions. He saw the same shade of red Mantis did over the "mother" comment, but couldn’t see where the rage had come from. There was a strange sensation that must have been what Mantis felt when he used his powers and then…nothing.
The moment their minds separated, Mantis turned his gaze to the wall and ignored the small pants and hums of understanding that came from Liquid. After a moment, he found himself unpinned and watched Blondie flop down onto the bed next to him.
“I’m going to kill that man.” Liquid vowed as Mantis dug his arms out from the indent they had started to make in the mattress. It had hurt the psychic to have all that metal from his gloves digging into his spine and he flexed his arms a few times before holding them close to his chest, rubbing out the aches as best he could. The aching back was alleviated somewhat as he turned his body away from Liquid. He couldn’t help the slight hiss of pain that came out as he tried to find a comfortable position.
Before he had joined FOXHOUND, Mantis rarely found himself in physical pain. Ever since he got saddled with Liquid and the others, it seemed like there had rarely been a mission when he wasn’t getting hurt in some way or another. Sometimes he really wondered whether a license to kill was worth getting smacked around a little in the name of doing his job. Still lying next to him, Liquid turned onto his side and stared at Mantis. The blond Goliath felt bad for grabbing the smaller man like he had. There was no excuse for taking out his frustrations over Ocelot out on the most physically weak member of the team.
Using the arm under him for a pillow, Liquid reached out and touched Mantis on the shoulder. A little of the skin showing over the top of the glove was turning red. Mantis scrunched up a little under the touch. His hand ran down the psychic’s side in a slow, and what he hoped would be perceived as a comforting, gesture. It was hard to tell what would set Mantis off most times.
The wandering hand was going to end up broken at the wrist if Mantis had any say in it. Cuddle with him the first time, shame on you. Jerk him off the second time, shame on them both. Try that shit again, and you’ll be lucky if you don’t wind up dead. Mantis grit his teeth a little and edged away from Liquid, but the blonde bimbo simply moved closer to him until they were spooning. Murder was imminent, but it never came, even though Liquid’s hand was now on his hip. Comrades in arms in the past had died for much less than what Mantis put up with between Ocelot and Liquid. It was a well-known fact in his personal records he made no effort to hide. It could have been that he was in need of some comfort after fighting with Ocelot. It could have been that those two other instances of closeness had softened him up a little to the antics so natural to Blondie. It could just be that he was feeling a little off his game in general. All that was clear was the fact that Liquid was fingering the first strap on his thigh and he was doing jack shit about it aside from shaking a little in his ‘gimp suit’.
For the third time in a month and a half, Mantis was in close contact with Liquid. It was a worrying routine they were developing. Much to the thin man’s surprise, Liquid didn’t try anything funny. He undid the buckle of that first strap, pulled it tighter and fastened it again. The squeezing sensation was… Okay, he had needed that, but he was still annoyed at how Liquid’s hand refused to leave.
“Boss?” Mantis’ voice sounded alien even in his own ears.
“Hmm?” Liquid replied. He hoped that hadn’t gone too out of line.
“Why are you still here?”
“I’m not keen on leaving yet. I want to give you-know-who a chance to clean up the mess and find some place to twirl his guns where I won’t be seeing him.”
Mantis smiled a little behind his mask. That he could understand completely.
“Do you want me to leave?”
That deserved some consideration. Did Mantis really want Liquid to leave? Aside from the hand thing, he was behaving himself. Aside from the fact that he could feel a small bulge pressing against his ass… Better than being back in the living room starting World War Three, at least.
“Not yet.” Mantis eventually replied.
Liquid was pleased with that answer. It meant he’d live for now and had permission to stay. The closer proximity was a little uncomfortable given the fabric and design of Mantis’s outfit, but it was worth it to be able to lie down in the darkened recesses of Mantis’ temporary Fortress of Solitude. No one ever came into the hallowed grounds of the territory staked out by the psychic, so you were guaranteed a peaceful time. Usually.
Tightening the strap on Mantis’ thigh had seemed like a good idea. It was what he did to relieve the stress. Liquid had to admit that his beloved psychic teammate was having an effect on him as of late. At first, he thought it was just lingering lust from the handjob incident, but the time in which his lust would typically dissipate had passed and he still found himself becoming unusually hot and bothered thinking about what had happened and just looking at Mantis. Blondie had seriously been contemplating what it might take to get close to the psychic like this again, but never imagined the opportunity would present itself so readily.
Please God, he prayed silently. Don’t let him read my mind.
To say that Liquid was fascinated by the man that he lay next to was an understatement. is hand, restless and impatient, managed to make its way to Mantis’ drawn up knee. He ran his palm over the leather and metal with a practiced finesse and delicate touch. A replacement for the outfit Mantis has burnt previously, the material was still stiff and new. Liquid liked the feeling of the fresh leather and felt up Mantis’ thigh with as much gentleness as he could muster.
Oh god… Mantis’s lips and all the rest of him shook under the not-even-trying-to-hide-it groping. Why, God, why? He wasn’t shaking just out of fear. His body certainly seemed to remember that large, warm hand, if the growing ache between his legs meant anything.
Scrawny thighs pressed together, partly trapping the tips of Liquid’s fingers. He could feel them sliding out from between his legs and continue to run up and down the length of his thigh, sometimes going so far up that they touched his stomach a little. His body was betraying him again! He shut his eyes and tried to force it to all stop. He wasn’t getting turned on by this. No way, no hooooooooh god, what was Liquid doing now?
One of Liquid’s tree-like booted legs swung over the psychic’s and wedged itself between two boney ankles ankles. The thin legs that had been pressed tightly together were now forced apart by this intruder. Mantis’s crotch was partly exposed and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. On one hand, he was perfectly in his rights to knock Liquid out. On the other, he was a bit too preoccupied with crushing his growing (and still very painful) arousal to get enough concentration together to go the violent route. As such, he began to pant as Liquid began rubbing the inside of his thigh. The thumb of his hand sought out and found the zipper up front and Mantis bucked under his touch. In that instinctive bucking of the hips, the helpless psychic could feel that he wasn’t the only one enjoying this a little too much.
Half-mast. Liquid could feel that much through the leather. Getting Mantis to buck into him like that was just…the icing on the cake, if you’ll forgive the phrase. Whether or not Mantis was getting hard due to the action or the emotion and memories that stemmed from it weren’t a great concern of his, but he did make a point to fully cup Mantis through the leather of his outfit, shameless and blatant in intent. He wanted there to be no mistake in the psychic’s mind about what his intentions were. If you’re going to die, die telling the truth, as he personally believed.
The truth of the matter was that Mantis had given up on fighting against Blondie if he was going to do this. So far, he’d yet to end up in a position where he wasn’t made fully aware of all intentions and desires from his boss, so there was no real reason to fight aside from being frightened. And even that was dubious at best. A short, low moan came from the psychic’s mouth as Liquid began to half-stroke, half-rub him through the leather and he reached down with one hand to roughly pinch that groping hand. Just get on with it, the pinch seemed to say, and the groping hand got the message loud and clear.
With due care, the zipper on the front was undone and Mantis’s unnaturally swollen and purplish cock greeted Liquid’s hand. The hand grabbed the offended and molested organ like an old lover: taking it slow and giving undivided attention from balls to tip. Liquid also believed in never doing things half assed. He stroked Mantis without hurry, avoiding touching the piercing that still made all of this a painful experience for the psychic.
New shudders wacked Mantis’s frame as his bare skin fell victim to Liquid’s touches. The psychic could feel the larger man's breath hot against his ear, which did nothing to make things easier for the thin, leather-clad man. Mantis's whole face felt like it had been under the sun, though the warmth came from underneath his skin.
Liquid’s thumb pressed down against the tip of Mantis' cock, drawing a loud gasp from the trembling psychic. That had definitely gotten the gaunt man a little harder. Liquid smeared pre-cum across Mantis's growing shaft, and the other man bit his lip to avoid crying out in pain. Fucking Liquid and his fucking hands! Why did the larger man have this kind of effect on him?
For a few moments, they laid still like this. Mantis had added his own hand to the mix so Liquid didn’t end up rubbing him raw (god, what a mess that could have been). Blondie didn’t mind being led along at all and tightened what little grip he had on Mantis’ leg to get better access at the psychic’s cock. That hand, further slicked with pre-cum was already driving Mantis insane and the psychic was gripping at the bed sheet with his free hand. The cloth covering the bed was soon wrinkled under Mantis’ grip as he tried to ignore the awful-wonderful-terribly-too-good pleasure went through him. Liquid was catching on fast and stroking him with the same pace.
Unable to stand the silence much more, Liquid began to breathe the most obscene things in Mantis’s ears. Each word seemed to get the psychic’s hips to move more or draw his voice forward.
“Come on,” Liquid asked of Mantis. “Let it out.”
Mantis moaned a little bit louder.
“You know you’re enjoying this.”
Mantis bit his lip and tried not to buck his hips into the growing tent in Liquid’s pants.
“I know you want this.”
Mantis clenched his eyes at the feeling of the pain danced wickedly up his spine.
“I want you to cum.”
Mantis could hardly breathe. The hand guiding Liquid’s tightened but hard and encouraged the larger man to move faster still. Blondie responded with gusto. Lord above! Liquid thought, groaning himself at the wanton way Mantis writhed against him. Who needed cheap whores and paramours when you could have a teammate like this? Liquid wasn’t even touching himself, and the larger man knew that he was two shakes and a stroke of the nuts away from being as hard as Mantis was under his hand.
“I…” Mantis gasped.
“Hmm?” Liquid leaned in as close as he could, biting at the psychic’s ear.
“I’m…” It was that same pressure inside; like from before. Even the din of the pain could not keep him from recognizing the internal signals of his body getting ready for him to topple over into the thoughtless and temporary oblivion. Oh god… The stinging pain wasn’t as bad as it was before, but still very much there.
“I’m what?” Liquid murmured, stopping his strokes altogether to cup Mantis’ balls with just a little firmness.
“Ah!” A single tear escaped from Mantis’s eyes. It was all too much. “P-please…”
Liquid smiled against Mantis’ ear and finished what he had started. Oh yes. Blondie was going to remember this for weeks.
After that brief moment of talk, Mantis felt more turned on than he had ever thought possible. What had he just done? He had spoken. He had acknowledged Liquid and what he was doing and seemed to get even more turned on for his troubles. This could be bad. This could be very bad. If Liquid could have this kind of effect on hi-
The thought became a forgotten fragment in his mind as he came. His whole body seemed to double over and press harshly into Liquid’s much larger and warmer form. Never mind that he could feel Blondie’s raging hard on through a layer of leather and another of khaki. Never mind that he had just cum for the third time in his life that hadn’t involved waking up in the middle of the night with sticky sheets. Never mind any of that. He was too far gone in those few seconds following the orgasm to think much of anything. It all came crashing back in full force soon enough, though.
Most, if not all of Mantis’ load had been caught in Liquid’s palm. The larger of the two peeled himself away from Mantis, careful not to spill the spent spunk on the still shaking man next to him. He wiped the sticky fluid (noting with a touch of mild shock the impressive amount. God damn, the man needed to get laid more often) onto his pants leg and sat up. His blue eyes were clouded with lust. He had to get off, but he didn’t want to leave Mantis all alone in this state.
Fixing his gaze on the psychic, he caught him finishing zipping up his pants. Like a million times before, Mantis formed a little ball by drawing his limbs close together and holding his hands between his knees.
“Are you alright?”
Mantis nodded weakly.
“Should I stay?”
The bedroom door unlocked, seemingly on its own.
“Alright,” Liquid shimmied off the bed and began walking to the door. He paused as he turned the handle in his non-spunk-catching hand and took a long look at Mantis. He looked so pathetic and delicate lying there… He wanted to stay, erection be damned, but there would very likely be no arguing with Mantis at this point. So he left the room and closed the door behind him.
It was short work getting to the room he was sharing between Ocelot and Octopus on a turn by turn basis. He found no one inside and quickly shut and locked the door behind him. In less than a minute, he was lying down on the bed and stroking himself much harder than he had been stroking Mantis, thinking about what he had done, what he had said, and what the psychic had done in return. He came with a growl, remembering the way he had felt that small ass writhe against him between his pants and that leather.
There was something terribly right about it all, but damn if he knew what it was.
Back in his room, Mantis used his powers to lock the door again and waited for the pain to subside. How could he have let that happen? How could he have let Liquid get into his pants again? The first time, it had been a bit of an emergency, but this time… This time he could have said ‘no’. Could have said a lot of things. Could have done a lot of things, hell, but he hadn’t. Still a little tender, the psychic brushed his fingertips against his slightly aching cock through the leather. Pain didn’t come this time. He just felt.
It felt good. Terribly, wonderfully, worryingly good.
Pairing: Liquid Snake/Psycho Mantis
Rating: NC-17 for handjob of dubious consent
Summary: Mantis fights with Ocelot. Liquid helps the psychic relax. With an orgasm.
Written by carthight_9, Co-written/Betaed by plus5pencil
Prologue: CQC
Chapter 1: Relief
Chapter 2: Daydream
Chapter 3: Xylophone Lullaby
Chapter 4: Something There
Author's Notes: Writing out Mantis and Ocelot yelling at each other was the most fun I've had with writing in a while. I don't know what it is, but writing dialogue comes to me extremely easily, so I expect a lot of you readers might find the dialogue to be very agreeable. The pronz, once more, is a quickie handjob. This time, though, it's our dearest Mantis on the full receivng end. I'm all for butts grinding against clothed dicks, so you'll probably see a lot of dry humping as things get more serious between these two. Part four is already in progress, and we shall see just what these two really think about where things are going. See you then~
Beta's Notes: OT's really getting the hang of writing smut. This is only her second piece and she's taken to my teachings very well. But it's so fluffy (and going to get much worse)! CURSE OT >8U. Decoy Octopus is such a non-action guy, lol. Ocelot menacing someone with a tub of IcyHot is still on my PChat to-do list, but his flashy outfits are such a pain to draw!
-Daydream-
Keeping up the silence was very easy. No one but them knew about what had happened when Mantis went on the rescue mission and neither of them had any reason to bring it up again. In theory at least. In practice, it proved to be a bit more complicated. Psycho Mantis found that only the best of his self-distracting strategies could keep him functioning like usual. Thank god one of them involved fighting.
Once again, they had moved house. The base was small and designed to be used by whoever needed it. There was a kitchenette, a group shower, and only three true rooms to sleep in not counting what passed for a living room area and the med ward. Actually, “ward” was a bit of a misnomer. There were all of two cots and enough complex medical supplies to let you know someone was poisoned, had a fever, high cholesterol and (if you were really unfortunate) was dying of thousands of possible fungal infections. Nobody slept in there, but it was generally understood that someone was always sleeping in the living room so Mantis got a bedroom all to himself. Wolf and Raven shared another. Ocelot, Liquid and Octopus took turns sharing the third one.
As things go, Mantis found himself resting in the living room area. The couches weren’t all that comfortable, but at least he could lie down for a bit and read. It was a slow and ordinary day with nothing to do. So what comes along to ruin things, you ask? One name: Ocelot.
The torture technician has a number of odd talents. Among the many is his ability to know just how to piss Mantis off on any given day of the week. Today was going to be no exception. Conversations were going on that day and Ocelot happened to be engaging Octopus in a spirited conversation about the techniques he used in torture in case the disguise master would ever need to impersonate the team sadist.
“Now,” Mantis could hear Ocelot saying. “No man would ever truly be comfortable in surgically removing another man’s balls, but it is something I know how to do and have done in the past.”
Ugh… Mantis sunk further into the couch, hoping they’d pass him by. Discussions about testicular torture? Fuck that noise. The book in his hands became a shield against the cringe worthy descriptions floating along the air to his ears. Always when he was trying to relax. Always.
Fate seemed intent on spiting him. The conversation grew louder as the two drew closer and now you could hear the spurs of Ocelot’s books clinking against the floor. Spurs. Seriously. The man showed off way too damn much.
“Pretty much. After you get the knife pressed against their…” His voice died down. The cat sensed that they were not alone. “Hello Mantis.”
“Mantis?” Octopus looked around the room.
“I’m here.” Like a vampire from his coffin did Mantis rise and appear over the back of the couch. “Is there a reason for the discussion that was just underway, or are you just fucking around again?”
“A little bit of both,” Ocelot nodded. “What are you doing lying around?”
“Reading a book. You might want to try it. I know some self-help books that can give you some tips on how to be less of an asshole and a sadist.”
“Only if it works on you first.”
Octopus sighed and took a few steps back. No a moment went by when those two weren’t at each other’s throats. Whenever they got near each other, it was just better to stand back a little and hope the fur didn’t fly too much. He could see Mantis’ eyes from behind the mask. They were narrowed and mean. Ocelot returned the glare with a grin.
“Anyway,” said Ocelot, turning back to his new pupil. “You should invest in that IcyHot cream. It has some surprising effects when applied to the right portion of the anato-“
“Take the lesson somewhere else, you sick fuck!” Mantis did not want the mental images that were springing into his mind.
“Oh, I’m the sick fuck?” Ocelot turned back to Mantis in full, shooing away Octopus. “You’re the one who dresses in a gimp suit.”
“At least I leave most of my corpses in one piece.”
“I’m not the one who looks like a corpse.”
“Fuck you.”
“I’d rather not. Even I won’t toy with necrophilia.”
“And your affair with your guns is any better?”
“Drop dead, Skin-and-Bones.”
“Tried that once. The devil didn’t want to deal with me yet. He’s got plans for you though. Sharp objects going where they shouldn’t.”
“I’m not sure that fetish of yours is something you should discuss so frankly. Don’t ask, don’t tell and all that.”
“You’re pretty suspect too. Does anyone know about your little thing for Big Boss?”
“Enough!” Octopus stepped between the two, knowing full well when Mantis would start throwing things around. “Ocelot, stop ticking him off. Mantis, you know better.”
Ocelot growled and clenched his fists. Mantis wasn’t quiet done yet. He wanted so badly to smack Ocelot around with something. Something heavy that might not leave anything behind if it clocked the torture technician in the head hard enough.
“Out of the way, Pagliacci.” Mantis said calmly. “This isn’t your fight.”
“Yeah,” Agreed Ocelot. “You wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. He might make you do something unspeakable with a handgu-“A bookcase at the other end of the room was relieved of one of its hardcover encyclopedia volumes. It flew at Ocelot’s head and nicked his ear before crashing into the wall.
Octopus flinched and ducked, hands over his head. “Will you stop that?” He yelled. Two more encyclopedia volumes (‘A’ and ‘D’, he’d discover later) sailed across the room and would have at least broken Ocelot’s nose had the cowboy not ducked. Octopus ran a few feet away. “I’m going to get Liquid.” He was ignored. Good enough for him. It meant he’d still be alive. Octopus ran through the base, calling for the boss. He was the only one who could get Mantis to calm down on most given occasions. Raven could too, and Wolf could always stick him with a tranq, but Raven always ran the risk of grabbing Mantis too tightly and they all knew better than to put drugs in the psychic’s system. So, Liquid it was.
It took a few precious moments, but he did find the boss-man. Liquid was in the commander’s office, talking on the phone with someone.
“Yes sir. Everything went according to plan. No of the enemy forces survived and the team came out in one piece.”
Octopus knocked on the door frame. Liquid looked at him and raised a shapely brow. Octopus made a clawing motion with his right hand and a wave-like movement with his left. Liquid held the phone in the crook between his neck and shoulder.
“Uhm, yes sir. Everything’s going alright.” He returned the gestures with his own: a fist pressed against an open palm.
Octopus nodded.
“Yes sir. Could I call you back later? There seems to be a little tiff going on. Yes sir, I’ll keep the body count to a minimum. Yes, the base will survive. Thank you, sir. Goodbye.” The phone went on the hook with a slam.
“I’m going to kill them.” Liquid growled, stomping off.
Octopus jogged after him. “I tried to get them to stop,” He began meekly. “They ignored me.”
“I’m not mad at you,” Octopus kind of doubted that, but he still led the boss to where he had left Ocelot and Mantis to their war games. He didn’t really have to since they could both hear Russian being spoken in increasingly loud and angry tones as the hallways passed on by. The two entered the living room area just in time to see a couch go sailing past the doorway.
“Your mother must be so proud seeing you act this way!” They heard Ocelot yell. “I bet she’s turning in her grave!”
“Go to hell you whoreson!” Mantis practically screamed back, accompanied by another crash. “At least I knew my father!”
“ENOUGH!!” Liquid’s voice resonated loudly over the din, bringing the fight to a temporary standstill. Dust settled and you could see Psycho Mantis standing in the middle of the room with many objects lying at his feet. His breath came out in hissing pants and Liquid could plainly see the rage in his body language. Ocelot stood a few feet away, backed up against the wall. He was grinning widely. Liquid’s boots crunched over unfortunate objects broken in the line of fire as he walked over to Mantis.
The psychic regarded him quietly, hands curling into tight fists. Liquid put Mantis’ arm in a one-handed vice grip and glared hard at Ocelot. “This is the second time I’ve had to deal with something like this in the last month.”
He fought to keep his voice calm. “On the third strike, you’re a dead man.”
Blondie stomped off with Mantis in tow. Mantis reluctantly allowed himself to be led away from the miniature warzone. Octopus stepped out of their way, his eyes wide.
“Make sure he cleans this up,” Liquid ordered. Octopus swallowed nervously and glanced at Ocelot. The wannabe cowboy was still smiling, but it seemed to be a different one than that “thrill of the battle” grin from before. This new one was more along the lines of “so that’s how it is”. Neither Liquid nor Mantis noticed the change in expression, the former much too busy dragging way the agitated psychic, and the latter fuming and wincing at how much Liquid’s grip hurt.
Mantis outright flinched as Liquid kicked open the door to the psychic’s room. You could see parts of other leather outfits scattered around like decorations. Liquid shut the door and locked it, walking Mantis over to the bed and tossing him down. The thin man bounced on the mattress and curled up a little, feeling overwhelmed, vulnerable, and confused. He was perfectly capable of throwing Liquid around, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t shaken up over being manhandled.
The bed frame creaked as Liquid sat down.
“What the fuck was that all about?” He asked.
The psychic did not speak, but lashed out at Liquid with an open palm. It was a futile effort and he knew it, but using his powers again so soon would put him in a worse mood than he was already in. Too much stress at once. Along with that, he knew there was only so much he could do to fight against Liquid and his manhandling. He trusted Blondie enough not to be as defensive as he got with Ocelot straight away, but there was still that instinctive fear of broken bones and a bloody nose that even he couldn’t repress.
Liquid caught him by the wrist and turned where he sat. Before Mantis had time to register it, he was flipped onto his stomach, arms held behind his back. Blondie kept his arms in place and turned him slowly onto his back, his large form pinning the frail psychic to the bed. Mantis stared with wide eyes at the angry blue orbs that were framed by sun-bleached locks. Liquid had a look on his face like he was going to bite someone’s head off.
“Show me what happened, if you’re so against speaking.” Liquid said, voice calm as frozen steel.
The heart that beat within Mantis’ chest jack hammered against his ribs. Damn whomever kept pushing them together like this and damn their motives. A warm rush went through him as he felt himself pressed hard against the mattress. It was the warmth of…lust. It had to be that, because it was the only way to explain why it felt like his cheeks were burning from underneath and the way certain parts of his anatomy woke up with a tingle and a dull ache respectively.
What was one man to do? He complied and brought Liquid into his mind. The memories of the fight were still very fresh, and he kept the allowed intrusion for as long as it took to go through all the memories. Liquid heard Ocelot’s harsh and sexual comments and felt the memory of the agitation Mantis had felt at hearing those words and how they made Mantis ashamed for his repressions. He saw the same shade of red Mantis did over the "mother" comment, but couldn’t see where the rage had come from. There was a strange sensation that must have been what Mantis felt when he used his powers and then…nothing.
The moment their minds separated, Mantis turned his gaze to the wall and ignored the small pants and hums of understanding that came from Liquid. After a moment, he found himself unpinned and watched Blondie flop down onto the bed next to him.
“I’m going to kill that man.” Liquid vowed as Mantis dug his arms out from the indent they had started to make in the mattress. It had hurt the psychic to have all that metal from his gloves digging into his spine and he flexed his arms a few times before holding them close to his chest, rubbing out the aches as best he could. The aching back was alleviated somewhat as he turned his body away from Liquid. He couldn’t help the slight hiss of pain that came out as he tried to find a comfortable position.
Before he had joined FOXHOUND, Mantis rarely found himself in physical pain. Ever since he got saddled with Liquid and the others, it seemed like there had rarely been a mission when he wasn’t getting hurt in some way or another. Sometimes he really wondered whether a license to kill was worth getting smacked around a little in the name of doing his job. Still lying next to him, Liquid turned onto his side and stared at Mantis. The blond Goliath felt bad for grabbing the smaller man like he had. There was no excuse for taking out his frustrations over Ocelot out on the most physically weak member of the team.
Using the arm under him for a pillow, Liquid reached out and touched Mantis on the shoulder. A little of the skin showing over the top of the glove was turning red. Mantis scrunched up a little under the touch. His hand ran down the psychic’s side in a slow, and what he hoped would be perceived as a comforting, gesture. It was hard to tell what would set Mantis off most times.
The wandering hand was going to end up broken at the wrist if Mantis had any say in it. Cuddle with him the first time, shame on you. Jerk him off the second time, shame on them both. Try that shit again, and you’ll be lucky if you don’t wind up dead. Mantis grit his teeth a little and edged away from Liquid, but the blonde bimbo simply moved closer to him until they were spooning. Murder was imminent, but it never came, even though Liquid’s hand was now on his hip. Comrades in arms in the past had died for much less than what Mantis put up with between Ocelot and Liquid. It was a well-known fact in his personal records he made no effort to hide. It could have been that he was in need of some comfort after fighting with Ocelot. It could have been that those two other instances of closeness had softened him up a little to the antics so natural to Blondie. It could just be that he was feeling a little off his game in general. All that was clear was the fact that Liquid was fingering the first strap on his thigh and he was doing jack shit about it aside from shaking a little in his ‘gimp suit’.
For the third time in a month and a half, Mantis was in close contact with Liquid. It was a worrying routine they were developing. Much to the thin man’s surprise, Liquid didn’t try anything funny. He undid the buckle of that first strap, pulled it tighter and fastened it again. The squeezing sensation was… Okay, he had needed that, but he was still annoyed at how Liquid’s hand refused to leave.
“Boss?” Mantis’ voice sounded alien even in his own ears.
“Hmm?” Liquid replied. He hoped that hadn’t gone too out of line.
“Why are you still here?”
“I’m not keen on leaving yet. I want to give you-know-who a chance to clean up the mess and find some place to twirl his guns where I won’t be seeing him.”
Mantis smiled a little behind his mask. That he could understand completely.
“Do you want me to leave?”
That deserved some consideration. Did Mantis really want Liquid to leave? Aside from the hand thing, he was behaving himself. Aside from the fact that he could feel a small bulge pressing against his ass… Better than being back in the living room starting World War Three, at least.
“Not yet.” Mantis eventually replied.
Liquid was pleased with that answer. It meant he’d live for now and had permission to stay. The closer proximity was a little uncomfortable given the fabric and design of Mantis’s outfit, but it was worth it to be able to lie down in the darkened recesses of Mantis’ temporary Fortress of Solitude. No one ever came into the hallowed grounds of the territory staked out by the psychic, so you were guaranteed a peaceful time. Usually.
Tightening the strap on Mantis’ thigh had seemed like a good idea. It was what he did to relieve the stress. Liquid had to admit that his beloved psychic teammate was having an effect on him as of late. At first, he thought it was just lingering lust from the handjob incident, but the time in which his lust would typically dissipate had passed and he still found himself becoming unusually hot and bothered thinking about what had happened and just looking at Mantis. Blondie had seriously been contemplating what it might take to get close to the psychic like this again, but never imagined the opportunity would present itself so readily.
Please God, he prayed silently. Don’t let him read my mind.
To say that Liquid was fascinated by the man that he lay next to was an understatement. is hand, restless and impatient, managed to make its way to Mantis’ drawn up knee. He ran his palm over the leather and metal with a practiced finesse and delicate touch. A replacement for the outfit Mantis has burnt previously, the material was still stiff and new. Liquid liked the feeling of the fresh leather and felt up Mantis’ thigh with as much gentleness as he could muster.
Oh god… Mantis’s lips and all the rest of him shook under the not-even-trying-to-hide-it groping. Why, God, why? He wasn’t shaking just out of fear. His body certainly seemed to remember that large, warm hand, if the growing ache between his legs meant anything.
Scrawny thighs pressed together, partly trapping the tips of Liquid’s fingers. He could feel them sliding out from between his legs and continue to run up and down the length of his thigh, sometimes going so far up that they touched his stomach a little. His body was betraying him again! He shut his eyes and tried to force it to all stop. He wasn’t getting turned on by this. No way, no hooooooooh god, what was Liquid doing now?
One of Liquid’s tree-like booted legs swung over the psychic’s and wedged itself between two boney ankles ankles. The thin legs that had been pressed tightly together were now forced apart by this intruder. Mantis’s crotch was partly exposed and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. On one hand, he was perfectly in his rights to knock Liquid out. On the other, he was a bit too preoccupied with crushing his growing (and still very painful) arousal to get enough concentration together to go the violent route. As such, he began to pant as Liquid began rubbing the inside of his thigh. The thumb of his hand sought out and found the zipper up front and Mantis bucked under his touch. In that instinctive bucking of the hips, the helpless psychic could feel that he wasn’t the only one enjoying this a little too much.
Half-mast. Liquid could feel that much through the leather. Getting Mantis to buck into him like that was just…the icing on the cake, if you’ll forgive the phrase. Whether or not Mantis was getting hard due to the action or the emotion and memories that stemmed from it weren’t a great concern of his, but he did make a point to fully cup Mantis through the leather of his outfit, shameless and blatant in intent. He wanted there to be no mistake in the psychic’s mind about what his intentions were. If you’re going to die, die telling the truth, as he personally believed.
The truth of the matter was that Mantis had given up on fighting against Blondie if he was going to do this. So far, he’d yet to end up in a position where he wasn’t made fully aware of all intentions and desires from his boss, so there was no real reason to fight aside from being frightened. And even that was dubious at best. A short, low moan came from the psychic’s mouth as Liquid began to half-stroke, half-rub him through the leather and he reached down with one hand to roughly pinch that groping hand. Just get on with it, the pinch seemed to say, and the groping hand got the message loud and clear.
With due care, the zipper on the front was undone and Mantis’s unnaturally swollen and purplish cock greeted Liquid’s hand. The hand grabbed the offended and molested organ like an old lover: taking it slow and giving undivided attention from balls to tip. Liquid also believed in never doing things half assed. He stroked Mantis without hurry, avoiding touching the piercing that still made all of this a painful experience for the psychic.
New shudders wacked Mantis’s frame as his bare skin fell victim to Liquid’s touches. The psychic could feel the larger man's breath hot against his ear, which did nothing to make things easier for the thin, leather-clad man. Mantis's whole face felt like it had been under the sun, though the warmth came from underneath his skin.
Liquid’s thumb pressed down against the tip of Mantis' cock, drawing a loud gasp from the trembling psychic. That had definitely gotten the gaunt man a little harder. Liquid smeared pre-cum across Mantis's growing shaft, and the other man bit his lip to avoid crying out in pain. Fucking Liquid and his fucking hands! Why did the larger man have this kind of effect on him?
For a few moments, they laid still like this. Mantis had added his own hand to the mix so Liquid didn’t end up rubbing him raw (god, what a mess that could have been). Blondie didn’t mind being led along at all and tightened what little grip he had on Mantis’ leg to get better access at the psychic’s cock. That hand, further slicked with pre-cum was already driving Mantis insane and the psychic was gripping at the bed sheet with his free hand. The cloth covering the bed was soon wrinkled under Mantis’ grip as he tried to ignore the awful-wonderful-terribly-too-good pleasure went through him. Liquid was catching on fast and stroking him with the same pace.
Unable to stand the silence much more, Liquid began to breathe the most obscene things in Mantis’s ears. Each word seemed to get the psychic’s hips to move more or draw his voice forward.
“Come on,” Liquid asked of Mantis. “Let it out.”
Mantis moaned a little bit louder.
“You know you’re enjoying this.”
Mantis bit his lip and tried not to buck his hips into the growing tent in Liquid’s pants.
“I know you want this.”
Mantis clenched his eyes at the feeling of the pain danced wickedly up his spine.
“I want you to cum.”
Mantis could hardly breathe. The hand guiding Liquid’s tightened but hard and encouraged the larger man to move faster still. Blondie responded with gusto. Lord above! Liquid thought, groaning himself at the wanton way Mantis writhed against him. Who needed cheap whores and paramours when you could have a teammate like this? Liquid wasn’t even touching himself, and the larger man knew that he was two shakes and a stroke of the nuts away from being as hard as Mantis was under his hand.
“I…” Mantis gasped.
“Hmm?” Liquid leaned in as close as he could, biting at the psychic’s ear.
“I’m…” It was that same pressure inside; like from before. Even the din of the pain could not keep him from recognizing the internal signals of his body getting ready for him to topple over into the thoughtless and temporary oblivion. Oh god… The stinging pain wasn’t as bad as it was before, but still very much there.
“I’m what?” Liquid murmured, stopping his strokes altogether to cup Mantis’ balls with just a little firmness.
“Ah!” A single tear escaped from Mantis’s eyes. It was all too much. “P-please…”
Liquid smiled against Mantis’ ear and finished what he had started. Oh yes. Blondie was going to remember this for weeks.
After that brief moment of talk, Mantis felt more turned on than he had ever thought possible. What had he just done? He had spoken. He had acknowledged Liquid and what he was doing and seemed to get even more turned on for his troubles. This could be bad. This could be very bad. If Liquid could have this kind of effect on hi-
The thought became a forgotten fragment in his mind as he came. His whole body seemed to double over and press harshly into Liquid’s much larger and warmer form. Never mind that he could feel Blondie’s raging hard on through a layer of leather and another of khaki. Never mind that he had just cum for the third time in his life that hadn’t involved waking up in the middle of the night with sticky sheets. Never mind any of that. He was too far gone in those few seconds following the orgasm to think much of anything. It all came crashing back in full force soon enough, though.
Most, if not all of Mantis’ load had been caught in Liquid’s palm. The larger of the two peeled himself away from Mantis, careful not to spill the spent spunk on the still shaking man next to him. He wiped the sticky fluid (noting with a touch of mild shock the impressive amount. God damn, the man needed to get laid more often) onto his pants leg and sat up. His blue eyes were clouded with lust. He had to get off, but he didn’t want to leave Mantis all alone in this state.
Fixing his gaze on the psychic, he caught him finishing zipping up his pants. Like a million times before, Mantis formed a little ball by drawing his limbs close together and holding his hands between his knees.
“Are you alright?”
Mantis nodded weakly.
“Should I stay?”
The bedroom door unlocked, seemingly on its own.
“Alright,” Liquid shimmied off the bed and began walking to the door. He paused as he turned the handle in his non-spunk-catching hand and took a long look at Mantis. He looked so pathetic and delicate lying there… He wanted to stay, erection be damned, but there would very likely be no arguing with Mantis at this point. So he left the room and closed the door behind him.
It was short work getting to the room he was sharing between Ocelot and Octopus on a turn by turn basis. He found no one inside and quickly shut and locked the door behind him. In less than a minute, he was lying down on the bed and stroking himself much harder than he had been stroking Mantis, thinking about what he had done, what he had said, and what the psychic had done in return. He came with a growl, remembering the way he had felt that small ass writhe against him between his pants and that leather.
There was something terribly right about it all, but damn if he knew what it was.
Back in his room, Mantis used his powers to lock the door again and waited for the pain to subside. How could he have let that happen? How could he have let Liquid get into his pants again? The first time, it had been a bit of an emergency, but this time… This time he could have said ‘no’. Could have said a lot of things. Could have done a lot of things, hell, but he hadn’t. Still a little tender, the psychic brushed his fingertips against his slightly aching cock through the leather. Pain didn’t come this time. He just felt.
It felt good. Terribly, wonderfully, worryingly good.