Waltz to Kalinka - Fingertips
Title: Waltz to Kalinka - Chapter 5: Fingertips
Pairing: Liquid Snake/Psycho Mantis
Rating: NC-17 for plot progression and handjob
Summary: In which there is a big mistake, a big step up, and one very happy commanding officer.
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
Chapter 5: Fingertips
Author's Notes: Liquid is smart, make no mistake. He's just the kind of smart that keeps you alive on a battlefield. Don't worry, this is about as bad as he'll screw up. Probably. Maybe. Kind of. You'll see.
Beta's Notes: FINALLY. Our schedules were not the most agreeable last semester so this took forever to get done. I have no idea if we'll have it better this spring.
Author's Notes: Have faith, dear. I'll be keeping my laptop on my person much more often this semester. I think.
-Fingertips-
The next day saw Liquid Snake arriving in the kitchen for lunch with a black eye and a grin. He didn’t even say anything. Just sat down and put his elbows on the table. Four pairs of eyes stared at him. It was a beautiful shiner: a masterpiece of black, blue and red that keep his right eye half-shut.
“Mantis won’t be dining with us,” Liquid said.
“Uhm…boss?” Octopus began quietly.
“Before you lot ask anything, I deserved it.”
“I-I’m sure you did, but...why?”
“I said something very stupid.”
Wolf set down the plates and brought the panini from the counter. They looked delicious and smelled like they’d make a good meal. Liquid took two for himself and began eating without waiting for the water pitcher to go around. He kept his eyes on the table, avoiding the rolling eyes and shaking heads, but he could sense the unspoken question in the air: ‘What the hell did you say?’
It was a sunny day. Not warm, but sunny. Mantis actually liked this sort of weather. It made him more comfortable when he decided to get some fresh air. He sat on the roof in the shade of the few clouds floating on by, fiddling with the battery run radio in his hands. There was plenty of static on the airwaves given how far they were from the nearest city, but not enough to drown out everything. He managed to catch a signal from a station playing church music. Not his first choice, but better than nothing. The static clinging to the signal gave charm to the songs about Jesus and how he loved people. Mantis preferred such songs in Latin. It sounded much more sincere.
“No one singing Crucifixus?” Mantis turned from his seat at the edge of the roof.
“They only sing in English out here.” He glared daggers as Liquid sauntered over to him. “Don’t you have some lying to do?”
“Roy’s busy with something today.” The blonde man smiled as he sat down next to the psychic. “And there’s nothing to lie about lately since we’ve been in a dry spell.”
“I’d have thought you’d like a few weeks off.”
“Out here? It’s like being on a cruise. Unless you’re drinking, there’s nothing to do.”
“Isn’t that my line?”
“Not today.”
Liquid hummed quietly and kicked his feet. They thumped gently on the side of the building as some overweight woman hit ungodly high notes. Mantis made his own noise of dissatisfaction and turned the radio off.
“I believe it’s my turn to apologize again.” That set off warning bells in Mantis’ head.
“Don’t you get tired of it?” He inched away from his boss, putting a good two feet between them.
“Don’t you get tired of having the same conversation over and over?”
"Liquid..."
"How the hell do you just-" The blonde man sighed and hung his head. "At least tell me that a kiss still means something to you." Mantis sighed, stood and walked away. Like the bad itch he was, Liquid followed him, still speaking. “Will you please talk to me?”
“No! You…you… I can’t even believe you’d do something that stupid!” The desperation in the psychic’s voice was embarrassingly apparent. He flinched, struggling to wrestle his emotions back into their dark little corner of his mind where no one could see them.
“Mantis, please-“
“Shut up.” Mantis raised his hand at Liquid, fingers splayed. “You wanted to think. I let you think. And you thought I’d be alright with that?”
“No!” Liquid held up his hands. “God damn it, I just… Can you at least come closer? I don’t want to yell and I certainly don’t want the others to hear this.”
“Fine.” Mantis took two long strides closer and lowered his hand. “Make your case before I kill you.”
Liquid really wanted to counter with a phrase along the lines of ‘Like you threatened to all those times before?’ but that would have made the threat a reality. He took a long, deep breath and sighed. “I want to make this work.”
Liquid could imagine the way Mantis’ mouth twitched as he prepared to hurt his commander. Hell, the muscular blond could see those long, bony fingers curling into fists. “What?”
Okay. Calm tone of voice. That was a good sign. “I…want to try. I want to see where this can go.”
He had expected Mantis to take those few steps away and raise his arms. It gave him hope and he closed his eyes and thanked god he knew Mantis that well. The pressure from Mantis’ fist making contact with his temple registered before the pain did. Liquid groaned and held his hands to his face, swearing at the top of his lungs. When he opened his eyes and looked around, Mantis was gone.
“Fuck…”
When did he learn to swing like that? Liquid wondered as he took a sip of water. Mantis had left a pretty impressive shiner for a man with no close combat skill whatsoever. Liquid poked at the bruised skin gently with his fingertips. At least it didn’t hurt any more on its own, that was always a good thing.
“Any idea where Mantis might be?” Wolf’s question drew him sharply out of his thoughts.
“Uhm…he reads when he’s upset, so he might be in his room.” “Oh…” The Kurdish woman licked her lips and set down her sandwich. “May I be frank?”
“Of course. You shouldn’t feel obligated to ask.”
“Is there something going on between you and Mantis?”
Green eyes looked between Octopus, Ocelot and Raven with suspicion. “Nothing at all. Why do you ask?”
“We’re just…concerned.” Octopus shifted in his seat, casting a glance at Ocelot, who had leaned back in his chair and chewed quietly, not even looking at them.
Bastard. Liquid thought bitterly. Spreading rumors like a plague… “There is nothing to be concerned about. Whatever fears you may have are unfounded.”
“Well,” Octopus got up from his chair, taking his plate and glass with him. “We know Mantis isn’t exactly all there most days and sometimes you both have moments where you lose your temper.” He set the dishes down in the sink and began to wash them. “We just wanted to know if…maybe you two got into an argument.”
“An argument? With Mantis?” Liquid genuinely chuckled. Oh, they didn’t know the half of it. “You have my word, in fact, I’ll swear it on my right hand, there’s no fight. No argument. Nothing at all. We were just talking, I said something stupid, and Mantis responded accordingly. I know he doesn’t throw a punch often, but it’s not above him to attack someone for pissing him off.”
“That’s a cheap argument, Liquid.” Ocelot dropped the remains of his sandwich on the plate and sat up to look at him. “We’re talking about Mantis here. He doesn’t throw punches for any little thing.”
“Perhaps the reason you have so many questions is because we’re trying to keep this incident between ourselves.” Liquid pushed his plate away and propped his arms up on the table so he had a resting place for his chin. “We are talking about Mantis. He’s a very reserved and private person. I don’t think he’d appreciate you sticking your oversized nose into his business. The animosity between you doesn’t really need another gallon of gasoline to keep the embers burning.”
“Leave it be, Ocelot.” Raven’s deep voice cut through their bantering. “If it is between Liquid and Mantis, we should let them resolve it. Adding our input to this conflict might bring about fighting we do not need. Roy has enough on his hands when we cause trouble on missions. Let’s give him peace of mind when we’re left to our own devices.”
“Thank you, Raven!” Liquid stood and took his now empty plate to the sink and handed it to Octopus. “I promise, I will have this resolved in no time.”
The older Russian also rose and passed along his dishes before heading off to polish his guns. “Do what you want, but I’m not picking up the body parts when Mantis decides to kill you.”
“What a dick.” Wolf scowled and got up as well, pausing to place her hand on Raven’s shoulder. She whispered something into his ear which made him chuckle and blush just slightly and Liquid observed Octopus raise one barely there brow as she left the kitchen. The disguise master shook his head and sighed, turning to look at Liquid.
“You really sure you can resolve it?”
“I’ll do a better job than Ocelot.”
“That’s not saying much.”
“Don’t worry. I have a plan.”
“Don’t get maimed?”
Liquid patted Octopus on the shoulder and waved farewell to Raven as he took his leave. He really did have a
plan, but it could easily leave him to getting maimed. That evened things out on his moral compass. Passing by Mantis’ room on the way to his own, he caught himself almost knocking on the door. He even went so far to hold his wandering hand down by the wrist. No. Not yet. Later, when Mantis has had time to fume.
Hiding in the confines of his own room, Liquid took to an old technique that had done more for his physique than running for his life ever did. Exercising his woes away. He could forget anything by doing sit-ups, push-ups, chin-ups and every other kind of up known to man. He worked every muscle he could think of for what ended up being a few hours. He collapsed onto his bed, covered in sweat and smelling like he’d been broiling in an oven. He ached all over in a way that left him feeling very satisfied, but the moment he stopped, it all came back to him. Every time he opened his mouth around Mantis, he ran the risk of getting hurt. There had to be a way of talking to him that didn’t end in pain. Pain… Mantis had decked him. The psychic might as well have had bones made of glass.
“Oww…” He could feel a headache coming on. One of those all-over aches brought on by stress. And he reeked. A shower. And then pills. And maybe a drink to help the pills cure the ache. Nodding, he sat back up with a mandatory groan and rubbed the back of his neck. He grabbed spare clothes from his trunk and took them with him to the team’s shared shower. The familiar off-white tiles and faint scent of mildew were a slight comfort to him. Clean clothes set down on the bench where they wouldn’t get wet; he stripped down and started the water, finding that sweet zone where it wasn’t cold enough to make him shiver or hot enough to leave his skin red.
As with any base, the team took time to scope out what constituted as the showers, be it a multi-stall tiled sauna or a hole in the ceiling to let the rain in. This time around, it was a one-stall affair, decorated with a stack of wire shelves screwed into the wall. Liquid grabbed his shampoo bottle off the top shelf, reveling in the feeling of warm water running down his skin. He poured the goop into his hair and placed the bottle back down, massaging his scalp while working up the lather. He’d die before he admitted it, but the sensation of freshly washed hair was one of Liquid’s favorite things.
“Joan was quizzical: studied pataphysical science in the home…” He sung under his breath, letting the water rinse the soapy, eye-stinging mess out of his hair. “Late nights all alone with a test tube. Ohh, oh, oh, oh…” The rest of the song became a hum as he reached for the body wash next and gave himself the male edition of a thorough scrub-down, going from neck to shoulders to torso and downward still.
In the space of twenty minutes, Liquid went from reeking of sweat to reeking to smelling faintly of soap. He dripped on the tiles as the water trickled to a stop. Thank god for showers. He could be alone, even when circumstances forced him to share a room. Quickly toweling himself dry, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed the clean clothes, tugging on the boxers and socks before slipping into his pants. He zipped up and buttoned his pants, the fabric as snug as ever around his ass and thighs. Dirty clothes wrapped in a bundle, he walked back to his room, hoping he wasn’t jumping back into the fray too soon.
Turning the corner back to his room, Liquid saw Raven exiting the room he shared with Wolf down the hall. The two men stared at each other for a few seconds before Raven turned away towards the kitchen. Liquid shrugged and tossed his dirty clothes into his room without much care with regards to where they landed. Now came the hard part. He moved to Mantis’ bedroom door, not knowing what he’d find. Would the psychic try and kill him? Would he be peaceful? Would Liquid wind up across the hall with an even bigger headache than before?
Unsure of himself, Liquid knocked on the door.
The door opened. Mantis stood in the doorway, hands pressed against the frame. Liquid noticed the bandages wrapped around the gaunt psychic’s right hand. It was a sloppy job, but one couldn’t mistake the purpose.
“Your hand…” It disappeared behind Mantis’ back. Strike one against his big mouth.
“What is it? Haven’t you done enough for one day? Or did you want me to make your eyes match?”
“That won’t be necessary. I could re-do that for you.” Liquid gestured to the sloppy bandages. “It’ll be easier on your hand.” “No, thank you. Is that all?”
“No, I was…hoping to talk. Peacefully.”
They stood like that for well over a minute before Mantis stepped aside. Liquid turned a bit sideways to avoid touching him while entering the room. The door closed and locked behind them and Mantis walked forward, tugging at the bandages around his hand. It was then that Liquid noticed the psychic was wearing his casual clothes. Tank top, skinny jeans, and much shorter gloves, all black of course.
"I'm tired of this shit." Mantis said, looking at everything but the man before him. "Why would you say something so stupid?"
"Because I meant it." The answer came without hesitation. "I can’t lie to you, Mantis. You've always read my mind like an open book."
"Bullshit." Mantis shook his head. "You couldn't have meant that."
“And why not?” Liquid walked forward slowly, his socked feet barely making any noise on the floor. “I have a say in this, even if it runs counter to what you want.”
“I give you time to think and you decide to make me even more miserable?”
“I’m deciding to make you admit that there’s more than one solution to all this.”
“What makes you think that I would be alright with any more of this?”
“Nothing.” Liquid stood in front of Mantis and tilted his head to one side. “I expect you to be against this in some way no matter how I phrase it. No matter how much I think we can both benefit from it.”
“What…benefits?” Mantis looked to his left. “Benefits for you?”
“And you as well. Can’t you at least try to see it from my perspective?”
“What’s to see?”
“Look at me, Mantis.” Liquid sat next to the psychic, tugging at his shoulders until he met his commander’s gaze. “It’s not just the notion of sex, is it? What else are you afraid of?”
Tense silence fell between them. Liquid glared into Mantis’ eyes as best he could through the orange lenses.
The psychic shook in his grasp and took in a few shuddering breaths until he spoke.
“I’m…emotionally dead. I wouldn’t feel anything for you.”
Liquid blinked, his grip loosening. “I…” He licked his lips. “You’re far from emotionally dead.”
“I’ve never…never done this before. Ever.” Mantis tried to pull his arms away.
“I have.” Liquid’s hands fell to his side. “I’ll lead you.” He watched the psychic wrap his arms around himself.
“I hate people.”
“So do I.”
“I’m clinically insane.”
“Everyone here is.”
Mantis sighed and got up onto his feet. He began to pace around. “I’ve never…”
“I’ll be gentle. You know I can do that.” Liquid was amazed at what he had managed. A few carefully placed words, and he not only had Mantis thinking of the possibilities, but considering them. Still, he would plead his case carefully. There was only so much he could say before Mantis began to shut him out.
"It won't feel good. Not for me. Not while I'm still...bound." Mantis paused in his pacing, glanced down, and turned to Liquid.
"In that case, I'd be obligated to think of your happiness and help you...remove the binding in whatever way I could. It wouldn't deter me in the slightest." The words came out of his mouth before he could process what the appropriate response would be to such a statement. To his surprise, it was a response Mantis accepted, because he continued his pacing.
“What if I never get used to it? What if that never happens?”
“Then it won’t. I’ll wait until I’m sure there’s no chance, and I’ll give up entirely.”
Mantis wrung his hands as he paced back and forth. Liquid watched Mantis cross one end of the room to the other several times before flopping down on the bed with an aggravated sigh.
“You really won’t stop?”
“May I answer that honestly?” Mantis nodded. Liquid sighed. “I can’t shut my emotions away like you can and I know that this isn’t dying easily, or else you wouldn’t be so agitated. I’m not saying that you want this, but I can’t help but think that maybe if you indulged it rather than attempt to force it down, you’ll get over it sooner.”
“Indulge?” The psychic asked it in a parroting manner. “Like how they get children to stop bringing their toys to bed?”
“If you want to think of it that way, then yes.” Liquid’s shoulders slumped as he heaved a sigh of relief. He was very grateful to still be alive.
“If this were any other situation, I’d have you pinned down and choking for air.” Liquid’s sat still. “I know what you’re thinking. I don’t even need to read your thoughts to know. Indulge. Indulge until we’re either sick of it or we can’t get enough. Is that right?”
“W-well, yes. I was hoping that we might get bored with it and it would die out on its own.”
“It might not.”
“A risk worth taking for a restful night’s staying awake.”
“You realize what you’re asking of me, right?” Liquid could sense the way Mantis’ brow rose behind the mask.
“Completely.” Liquid replied without hesitation. “You are welcome to punish me as you see fit if this doesn’t go the way I planned.”
It was Mantis’ turn to sigh. He sat further back on the bed until he sat against the wall, his legs stretched out before him. “Alright.” He said after a few minutes. “But I claim the right to kill you if this doesn’t work like you think it will.”
“My body is my collateral.” Liquid held out his hand. Mantis shook it.
“I give this bullshit a month at best.” And the metaphorical contract was filed away under Liquid’s other bad ideas.
“So, boss-man,” Mantis took his hand back, rubbing it with the other. “What happens now?”
“Well, my surly secretary,” Liquid smirked and turned to face Mantis fully. “I thought I’d start by giving you a chance at taking control.”
“Meaning?”
“Put your hands on me.” Liquid could feel the dirty look Mantis gave him.
“Elaborate. Fast.”
“I’ve already gotten my mitts on you before. I think it’s time that you got the chance to put me in a headlock, more or less, and make my body your plaything. It’s only fair.” Liquid shrugged.
“I just had to say yes, didn’t I?” Mantis drew up his knees, creating his usual barrier between him and others in close spaces. “Elaborate more.”
“A plaything. You can use me like a stuffed animal. Touch me wherever, move me however, until you’ve had enough with exploring. You can pretend I’m an anatomical model.”
Mantis’ head lowered. Liquid could hear what was possibly muffled laughter coming from behind the mask. “Not like any anatomical model I’ve ever seen.”
Liquid crawled over to the psychic very slowly. It was as good a day to die as any, right? Par the course, Mantis backed away until he was against the wall.
“Mantis, I’m not going to bite.” They were about a foot apart, Liquid sitting on his knees.
“Just…give me a moment. I’m not really ready for this.” Behind the mask, Mantis looked away from his…boss? Lover? God, not that. “I mean, I understand the logic, but actually going along with it is just so…it’s just nothing I’ve ever thought about. Not since I was…oh, I can’t even remember now. And why am I babbling like an idiot?” His hands went behind his head, fingers lacing.
“You’re just nervous. It’s okay.” Liquid reached out, only to have his hand slapped away. Mantis flinched, clutching his injured hand. “Don’t freak out on me, Mantis.” The blonde soldier had been taught, long ago in his childhood, that when faced with an angered wild animal, you should always speak to it in a calm tone of voice. It was amazing how often such simple tricks seemed to work on people.
“What the fuck do you think I’m trying to do?” The psychic moved a few inches away. Not enough to make a real physical difference, but enough that it felt like a lot. “Let me be…”
“In this state?” Liquid allowed the distance and matched Mantis’ bent up position as best as he could, wiggling his toes in the confines of his socks. "I refuse to leave you alone when so distressed. What would it say of my character?"
"It would say that you respect my wishes. Go away."
“No. I’m stay-“ The reply was cut off with a yelp as Liquid found himself pressed down into the mattress. An invisible force pressed against every inch of his body. He opened his mouth to protest, but found it quite impossible as his vocal chords seemed to have been immobilized as well. On one hand, he was praying he’d make it out of this alive. On the other, he really had to hand it to Mantis for going along with is idea, even if it wasn’t in the way he had anticipated. Now, if only the psychic would give him a little warning each time, Liquid could definitely get used to this sort of thing.
“You really can’t let me be, can you?” Liquid could hear the soft creak of bedsprings and the rustle of sheets. Mantis was on the move. “And to think they call me the madman.”
Liquid shivered as a chill went down his spine. He had been moved around with psychokinesis and spoke with the psychic telepathically, but this was very new. This was being held in place. Being a living statue.
“Are you frightened?” Mantis asked.
Liquid tried to speak once more. He found it to be manageable, but exceedingly difficult. “No.” He gasped.
“If you do get scared…say ‘blue’.”
“Blue…” Liquid croaked. His throat hurt a little. The pressure around his neck lessened just a small bit, and he could breathe freely again.
For many agonizing minutes, Liquid listened to the sounds of Mantis moving around him. Pillows were moved out of the way, because he could see them sailing over his head and hear them hitting the floor. One very rational part of him wanted to ask the obvious question regarding Mantis’ plans. An equally rational side spoke out against such an idea. There was enough at stake, it reasoned, without giving Mantis a reason to kill him.
“How does a man of your rank develop such a death wish?” Mantis had moved to sit next to his head. Liquid could smell the leather. Long fingers traced the shape of Liquid’s eyes, nose and cheekbones. Bony hands, one wrapped in bandages and the other in leather, slid down the sides of Liquid’s face. Green eyes closed and Liquid sighed. You wouldn’t think it of a man with a distinct negative body mass index, but Mantis had warm hands. Liquid could envision the other man’s strange and terrible power seeping out from each fingertip. He sorely missed that warmth when those palms traveled down to his shoulders and crudely clipped nails dug into his skin.
A low hiss rose between the soldier’s clenched teeth. Oh, he could get very used to this if the psychic chose to keep it up. The droplets of blood welling up on his skin barely registered in his mind. What Liquid did pay some attention to was the two inches that separated him and the mattress. The miniscule hairs all over his arms stood up on end. He could very easily imagine the goose flesh rising up. Okay. This was interesting.
Skinny fingers painted thin stripes of blood as they slowly worked their way along the length of Liquid’s arms. They followed the curve of the muscles and traced the skin stained with dark ink. The rod of Asclepius. It was one of the few ways Liquid had intentionally marked himself. A large tattoo that graced his arm with all the detail he could fit over his biceps. Liquid groaned softly. The only thing that would make this perfect was a soft lap to lie down on and the only lap available was notoriously bony and studded with metal buckles.
Liquid opened his eyes. As he expected, the most he saw was the ceiling. How depressing. Of all the times he wanted full control of his neck… Near as he could tell, Mantis was sitting behind him, so he tried looking up. All it did was give him a slight headache. He shut his eyes again. Mantis was exploring Liquid’s fingers. Thoughtful sounding murmurs came from the psychic.
“Calluses.” Mantis said quietly. “It’s like sandpaper.”
And your fingers feel like twigs. Liquid quipped silently. He could feel the bandages on Mantis’s injured hand. Against his better judgment, Liquid forced his constricted vocal chords to produce a groan of annoyance. He wanted to move his goddamn head. Mantis released Liquid’s hand to yank his hair.
“This was your idea.” Liquid was reminded. “Don’t bitch.”
His arms abandoned, Liquid’s chest came under attack from Mantis’ fingernails. Did the man ever indulge in a manicure? Or an emery board? Liquid’s skin yelled at him as it was decorated with red lines from collar bone to the hem of his pants. Mantis scratched like a wild animal. Moved like one too, near as Liquid could sense. The psychic relocated across the bed again. He was crouched by Liquid’s legs, one fingertip lazily tracing along the valleys between. Pecs, six pack, everything. Mantis even had the nerve to give Liquid’s right nipple a good pinch and twist out of spite, which stung like a motherfucker.
It only got better from there. Mantis moved once again and was now sitting atop Liquid’s thighs. Liquid tried to see what his captor was up to, but as before, his field of vision was unbearably limited. All he could see was the upper half of Mantis’ mask. This is getting to be tedious. Liquid thought to himself, sighing within. A prude was a prude no matter how much freedom you gave him.
“Fuck you, Liquid.” Mantis dug his nail into his boss’s stomach. The gaunt psychic dragged his hand across Liquid’s abdomen, carving shallow scratches into tanned skin. By the time Mantis drew his hand away the other man’s stomach was covered in puffy, pink scrapes and thin trickles of blood.
That son of a bitch! Though it hurt him to fight back, Liquid made a distinctly annoyed sound and strained against the psychic restraints. Mantis! I am going to get you for this. Let me speak, damn it!
“No...” The psychic ran the back of his nails along the tanned skin of Liquid’s chest. His voice was low and filled with barely restrained anger. “I’m fucking tired of you.” That’s when Liquid began to worry. That was Mantis’ ‘I just might hurt you now’ tone. “You just can’t leave well enough alone, can you?” Just when Liquid was certain that Death had finally decided to take him, Mantis sighed. All at once, Liquid found he could turn his head and craned his neck as far as he could, watching the psychic go back to sitting on the bed.
Bewildered, frustrated, and aching for some freedom of movement, Liquid squirmed as much as his remaining telekinetic bonds would allow, a choked whine escaping his mouth. He could see a shiver go through Mantis’ body. The psychic clenched his spidery hands into tight fists, head bowed.
“How did you do this to me?” Mantis whispered, his voice harsh and raspy through the mask.
I am a clone of a man who could wax poetic about guns. Liquid thought to himself, hoping that Mantis was still reading his thoughts. People like you make my life more interesting. That outfit you always wear does incredible things for your figure. I have a twisted desire to see you in the throes of ecstasy by my own doing again. I’m selfish. I’m human. What do you want from me?!
A groan slipped from Liquid’s lips, low and gravely. Why did the sisters of fate love to fuck with him so? He closed his eyes and quietly gave up on ever being able to do the right thing when dealing with Mantis. Then he felt the warm palms on his hips. A thumb brushed against the waistband of his pants.
“I heard that.” Mantis said in a muted voice. Liquid could feel the leather sliding along his legs as Mantis sat closer. “You really could…l-love me… Couldn’t you?”
Yes. Liquid opened his eyes and saw the dark shape of the psychic in his peripheral vision. I may be crazy for thinking this, but I really think I can.
Trickles of whispers filled Liquid’s ears. They grew louder and more distinct with a rapid pace and he found himself hearing Mantis’s muted thoughts. Russian words strung together like they were being spoken through a wall. He knew this sensation well enough from all the times he and Mantis spoke psychically, but this time.... Usually, he could sense the thoughts themselves more than anything else. More vague things were floating around into his head this time. Fragments of words. Sensations. Emotions…
Fear and confusion traded places with one another. Can’t let...why does…he’s so…body… can’t let myself…more. Want more. Want him. Want. Don’t want… It was a clusterfuck of miniscule thoughts and each thought came with a surge of emotion that flooded Liquid’s senses. Fear quickened his heartbeat. Confusion sent his blood rushing to his head. Curiosity made his fingertips itch. Liquid’s brow knotted together as the invasive sensations clouded his own thoughts.
They were Mantis’ emotions, he knew that much, but how could they be so intense? It was like drowning. Liquid could barely get his lungs to take in air. He would have tried to force Mantis away so he could breathe, but there was always a small something hiding amongst all the emotions. Something simple. Base. A tear fell from one eye as he sought out that small something. Want to run…shouldn’t be…leave…stop looking for…want…want to…touch. There. That was it. That was-
Mantis pulled his mind away, and suddenly the whole world seemed to go silent. Liquid’s mind felt empty after all that. Everything was dark and the sounds of his labored breathing and the pounding heart seemed distant and muffled. Slender fingers brushed against his brow.
“Liquid?” He heard Mantis’ voice in the distance, barely audible. “Liquid!” Green eyes shot open. The room went into focus. He was alone in his own head. Wow… What the hell? “Dumbass…”
Liquid’s mouth curved up into a smug grin. He had felt the lust. His precious psychic teammate wanted this. It was enough to make any snake smile. Mantis sighed through the mask and scratched Liquid again from shoulder to waist raked his fingernails down Liquid’s torso from shoulder to waist. “I hate you. I hate how you make me do these awful things.” Liquid bit back a triumphant snicker as Mantis fumbled with the button and zipper. “I used to have class and a sense of dignity.” The khaki pants slid slowly down Liquid’s thighs until the thick fabric bunched around his calves. There was no mistaking the semi underneath the boxers. “And you are nothing less than the animal I always thought you were.”
“If I let you talk,” Mantis’s hands rested just above the elastic waistband of Liquid’s boxers. “You’ll say something stupid, won’t you?” It was a statement more than a question. Long fingers splayed across tan skin, drumming meaningless beats as Liquid awaited his fate.
After an excruciatingly long moment’s wait, the psychic’s fingers finally slid under the band of the boxers now very much resembling a circus tent. The fabric crept down Liquid’s thighs before meeting the pants still crumpled up at his calves. If every muscle within him wasn’t under Mantis’ influence, his hips would have jerked up at the feeling of cool air on his cock.
Now, if only he could watch… Annoyingly enough, those long, slender and oooooh….warm, so warm and feeling so good to the skin of the thigh a little higher if you would…wait. Where are they going now? Liquid was far from ungrateful. Really, it was a miracle he hadn’t been outright killed at this point. So when Mantis’ hands pressed against Liquid’s cheeks and he was staring into those ungodly cold eyes through orange lenses, there were a great deal of unanswered questions begging for answers. One thumb wiped over the eye still damp with tears. It was… uncomfortable. He had seen such a look in wild animals contemplating whether or not the smaller animal they saw was good for eating.
“Only. You.” The words came with a chilling clarity from behind the mask. Mantis dragged his hands along Liquid’s face. One palm over his lips, the other resting over his throat. Liquid could speak. He kissed the palm pressed against his mouth. Psycho Mantis's spidery hands wandered south, tracing collarbone, shoulders, arms, chest, caressing the many scratches he had inflicted. Musculature flexed with each passing touch in a chorus of thanks until Mantis paused above the patch of not-blonde pubes. Liquid held his breath. Was Mantis really going to do this?
Mantis pulled off his glove and reached out with his uninjured hand, fingertips lightly brushing against the small patch of dark hair. Liquid jerked at the gentle touch and then it struck him that he had enough freedom of movement to jerk. It must have been incidental, though, since he still couldn’t do more than gasp. Really, he was a bit embarrassed. His pubes were the only remaining proof that he had been anything but a blonde. Mantis’s fingers moved southward still, until warm fingertips brushed the base of Liquid’s cock. It felt so much better than when Liquid would do such things to himself. Why was it always so much more arousing when someone else touched you? Was it because you had no idea where they’d go next? That must have been it.
Green eyes vanished and reappeared behind Liquid’s fluttering lids. A warm hand hesitantly gripped his cock and slowly slid up and down. It was a glorious sensation that excited him to full attention with minimal prompting. More than once, Mantis paused in his reluctant strokes like a child meeting an animal larger than they for the first time. Stopping was not in his plans, near as Liquid could feel. Being more perceptive than most gave him credit for, the blond man was very much aware of how uncomfortable this must have been for Mantis. There was no way the psychic could be in a caaaaaaalmohgod…. Thumb. Thumb right on the tip, god that never stopped feeling so good…
It was terribly unfair. Each breath Liquid took came in between gritted teeth. He still couldn’t speak, and desperately wanted to let out a groan that had been hitched in his throat for several minutes now. For fucks sake, Mantis! He bitched in his head as bony fingers tentatively brushed against his balls. Just give me some muscle movement back so I can wriggle around!
Then he felt his toes twitch. Not all of them, but definitely the little toes on his right foot and the left big toe. It wasn’t very important, though. Psycho Mantis was massaging his balls. To think there are people who honestly believe miracles never happen. Miracles like Mantis running his trembling fingers across the other man’s, inquisitive and a little scared. The pain in his throat didn’t even bother Liquid much as he groaned, feeling Mantis’s palm his cock. Had Liquid been with any other person, he’d have spread his legs and arched into the touch. Had he had any freedom of movement he’d have clutched at the sheets and tossed his head from one side to the other as he conjured up his dirtiest fantasies to make it just that much better.
Reality was a bitch. In reality, all Liquid could do was strain and struggle helplessly as the muscles in his hips jerked and twitched futilely while he received the world’s most awkward handjob from the world’s most awkward human being. As far as technique went, Mantis was horribly inexperienced and uncertain in his movements, leading to some instances where his nails were scratching Liquid’s cock or simply digging in too hard. Liquid had gotten far better handjobs under far kinder circumstances in the past, but in spite of that fact, he was enjoying himself quite completely. Why long for technique when you had the rush of adrenaline and the fear of being maimed at any minute to keep your heart rate up?
All Liquid had to bitch about was how Mantis was such a wuss about the whole thing. Too light. Liquid whined internally. For fucks sake, Mantis, I’m not made of plasticine! There was another scratch: more towards the tip this time. CHRIST, that hurt. And trim you’re fucking nails with something other than a straightedge! I want to keep this thing attached! The pain made all of his toes curl that time. Now that was interesting… He had distinctly felt all ten of them moving that time. His fingers were getting some mobility as well.
So he closed his eyes and licked his lips and felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he was stroked and fondled. Really, it was all he could do. If Mantis continued slowly rescinding his psychic restraints, Liquid had no doubt he’d be lying down at some point, but not soon. Hell, he wouldn’t cum any time soon unless Mantis worked up some courage and picked up the pace of his stroke. The thought alone nearly made Liquid roll his eyes, even though he knew his face was likely flushed from the effort struggling against his restraints.
Then a second miracle happened. After a great deal of fumbling and clumsy technique Mantis seemed to have finally slipped into a decent rhythm. That son of a bitch it still reading my thoughts. That was the only explanation for the way Mantis figured out to be careful with his nails and that one hand on cock and the other on balls was a good combination. Liquid was mentally cheering and squirming to the full extent his restraints allowed. The psychic’s thumb was pressing against the tip of his cock again, spreading the slick pre-cum. A full body tremor barely made him twitch under the psychic’s hold.
At that point, Liquid just gave up on thinking. It hurt too much and what Mantis’s spidery hands were doing between his legs was far more captivating and felt much nicer. Liquid’s mouth moved, though sound barely came out. He thrust his hips in time with Mantis’s still tentative, but notably quickened, strokes as much as the remaining psychic restraints would allow him. And there wasn’t that much left to hold him down.
“M-m-Man…tis…” Liquid knew this building sensation very well. Floating about two inches off the mattress, Blondie moved his head leftways and rightways, still trapped in the lying down position, little as it mattered. Mantis was pumping faster, evidently aware of how close Liquid was. Liquid clenched his teeth. His face was a unique shade of red and beads of sweat were pooling up at his temple.
He came with a grunt usually saved for when a fist made contact with his stomach. Not a second after the last shudder made its way through Liquid’s body, the bed frame creaked under his full weight. Liquid gasped and choked on air, writhing on the bedsheet. Liquid groaned as he turned over, trying to remember which way was up. Wow. The blonde man was in such a state of shock, he could barely recall how to cuss. His arms felt heavy, and he clumsily pulled himself to the edge of the bed. With numbed, shaky hands he reached for his boxers and slowly pulled them up, not caring that his cock was still a little stiff. As he adjusted the band, he absently wiped away the sticky mess on his lower abdomen.
The snake smiled and sat up. He was alive. He had all ten fingers and toes, eyes and ears, his nose and everything else he knew he’d miss if they were removed from his body. What mattered was that Liquid was alive and he needed to make sure death was not around the corner on his white horse and the entirety of hell. He turned his gaze to Mantis, who had remained remarkably silent.
As usual, the psychic had retreated into his “ball of safety” and seemed intent on ignoring Liquid with every fiber of his being. Liquid scooched closer and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. A sweat-slicked lock of blond hair fell over his shoulder and he could see Mantis’ face, or at least his mask. Grey eyes glared at him from behind the orange lenses and Liquid knew that he had better leave or else Death really would come for him. He nodded and got off the bed, pausing only to pull up his pants and zip up. With a dancer’s grace, he walked quietly to the door and turned back to the bed. Mantis had turned to stare at the wall, giving the blond man a good view of his back and the way his legs were rubbing together.
Jumping to conclusions best saved for later, Liquid left without a word and went back to his room. He closed the door, locked it and took several long breaths, bracing himself against the wall. A broad grin spread across Liquid’s face and he punched the air victoriously before flopping down with one of the most content sighs ever sighed. Liquid knew there was a lot of work ahead of him; but as far as he was concerned, things were off to a wonderful start.
Pairing: Liquid Snake/Psycho Mantis
Rating: NC-17 for plot progression and handjob
Summary: In which there is a big mistake, a big step up, and one very happy commanding officer.
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
Chapter 5: Fingertips
Author's Notes: Liquid is smart, make no mistake. He's just the kind of smart that keeps you alive on a battlefield. Don't worry, this is about as bad as he'll screw up. Probably. Maybe. Kind of. You'll see.
Beta's Notes: FINALLY. Our schedules were not the most agreeable last semester so this took forever to get done. I have no idea if we'll have it better this spring.
Author's Notes: Have faith, dear. I'll be keeping my laptop on my person much more often this semester. I think.
-Fingertips-
The next day saw Liquid Snake arriving in the kitchen for lunch with a black eye and a grin. He didn’t even say anything. Just sat down and put his elbows on the table. Four pairs of eyes stared at him. It was a beautiful shiner: a masterpiece of black, blue and red that keep his right eye half-shut.
“Mantis won’t be dining with us,” Liquid said.
“Uhm…boss?” Octopus began quietly.
“Before you lot ask anything, I deserved it.”
“I-I’m sure you did, but...why?”
“I said something very stupid.”
Wolf set down the plates and brought the panini from the counter. They looked delicious and smelled like they’d make a good meal. Liquid took two for himself and began eating without waiting for the water pitcher to go around. He kept his eyes on the table, avoiding the rolling eyes and shaking heads, but he could sense the unspoken question in the air: ‘What the hell did you say?’
It was a sunny day. Not warm, but sunny. Mantis actually liked this sort of weather. It made him more comfortable when he decided to get some fresh air. He sat on the roof in the shade of the few clouds floating on by, fiddling with the battery run radio in his hands. There was plenty of static on the airwaves given how far they were from the nearest city, but not enough to drown out everything. He managed to catch a signal from a station playing church music. Not his first choice, but better than nothing. The static clinging to the signal gave charm to the songs about Jesus and how he loved people. Mantis preferred such songs in Latin. It sounded much more sincere.
“No one singing Crucifixus?” Mantis turned from his seat at the edge of the roof.
“They only sing in English out here.” He glared daggers as Liquid sauntered over to him. “Don’t you have some lying to do?”
“Roy’s busy with something today.” The blonde man smiled as he sat down next to the psychic. “And there’s nothing to lie about lately since we’ve been in a dry spell.”
“I’d have thought you’d like a few weeks off.”
“Out here? It’s like being on a cruise. Unless you’re drinking, there’s nothing to do.”
“Isn’t that my line?”
“Not today.”
Liquid hummed quietly and kicked his feet. They thumped gently on the side of the building as some overweight woman hit ungodly high notes. Mantis made his own noise of dissatisfaction and turned the radio off.
“I believe it’s my turn to apologize again.” That set off warning bells in Mantis’ head.
“Don’t you get tired of it?” He inched away from his boss, putting a good two feet between them.
“Don’t you get tired of having the same conversation over and over?”
"Liquid..."
"How the hell do you just-" The blonde man sighed and hung his head. "At least tell me that a kiss still means something to you." Mantis sighed, stood and walked away. Like the bad itch he was, Liquid followed him, still speaking. “Will you please talk to me?”
“No! You…you… I can’t even believe you’d do something that stupid!” The desperation in the psychic’s voice was embarrassingly apparent. He flinched, struggling to wrestle his emotions back into their dark little corner of his mind where no one could see them.
“Mantis, please-“
“Shut up.” Mantis raised his hand at Liquid, fingers splayed. “You wanted to think. I let you think. And you thought I’d be alright with that?”
“No!” Liquid held up his hands. “God damn it, I just… Can you at least come closer? I don’t want to yell and I certainly don’t want the others to hear this.”
“Fine.” Mantis took two long strides closer and lowered his hand. “Make your case before I kill you.”
Liquid really wanted to counter with a phrase along the lines of ‘Like you threatened to all those times before?’ but that would have made the threat a reality. He took a long, deep breath and sighed. “I want to make this work.”
Liquid could imagine the way Mantis’ mouth twitched as he prepared to hurt his commander. Hell, the muscular blond could see those long, bony fingers curling into fists. “What?”
Okay. Calm tone of voice. That was a good sign. “I…want to try. I want to see where this can go.”
He had expected Mantis to take those few steps away and raise his arms. It gave him hope and he closed his eyes and thanked god he knew Mantis that well. The pressure from Mantis’ fist making contact with his temple registered before the pain did. Liquid groaned and held his hands to his face, swearing at the top of his lungs. When he opened his eyes and looked around, Mantis was gone.
“Fuck…”
When did he learn to swing like that? Liquid wondered as he took a sip of water. Mantis had left a pretty impressive shiner for a man with no close combat skill whatsoever. Liquid poked at the bruised skin gently with his fingertips. At least it didn’t hurt any more on its own, that was always a good thing.
“Any idea where Mantis might be?” Wolf’s question drew him sharply out of his thoughts.
“Uhm…he reads when he’s upset, so he might be in his room.” “Oh…” The Kurdish woman licked her lips and set down her sandwich. “May I be frank?”
“Of course. You shouldn’t feel obligated to ask.”
“Is there something going on between you and Mantis?”
Green eyes looked between Octopus, Ocelot and Raven with suspicion. “Nothing at all. Why do you ask?”
“We’re just…concerned.” Octopus shifted in his seat, casting a glance at Ocelot, who had leaned back in his chair and chewed quietly, not even looking at them.
Bastard. Liquid thought bitterly. Spreading rumors like a plague… “There is nothing to be concerned about. Whatever fears you may have are unfounded.”
“Well,” Octopus got up from his chair, taking his plate and glass with him. “We know Mantis isn’t exactly all there most days and sometimes you both have moments where you lose your temper.” He set the dishes down in the sink and began to wash them. “We just wanted to know if…maybe you two got into an argument.”
“An argument? With Mantis?” Liquid genuinely chuckled. Oh, they didn’t know the half of it. “You have my word, in fact, I’ll swear it on my right hand, there’s no fight. No argument. Nothing at all. We were just talking, I said something stupid, and Mantis responded accordingly. I know he doesn’t throw a punch often, but it’s not above him to attack someone for pissing him off.”
“That’s a cheap argument, Liquid.” Ocelot dropped the remains of his sandwich on the plate and sat up to look at him. “We’re talking about Mantis here. He doesn’t throw punches for any little thing.”
“Perhaps the reason you have so many questions is because we’re trying to keep this incident between ourselves.” Liquid pushed his plate away and propped his arms up on the table so he had a resting place for his chin. “We are talking about Mantis. He’s a very reserved and private person. I don’t think he’d appreciate you sticking your oversized nose into his business. The animosity between you doesn’t really need another gallon of gasoline to keep the embers burning.”
“Leave it be, Ocelot.” Raven’s deep voice cut through their bantering. “If it is between Liquid and Mantis, we should let them resolve it. Adding our input to this conflict might bring about fighting we do not need. Roy has enough on his hands when we cause trouble on missions. Let’s give him peace of mind when we’re left to our own devices.”
“Thank you, Raven!” Liquid stood and took his now empty plate to the sink and handed it to Octopus. “I promise, I will have this resolved in no time.”
The older Russian also rose and passed along his dishes before heading off to polish his guns. “Do what you want, but I’m not picking up the body parts when Mantis decides to kill you.”
“What a dick.” Wolf scowled and got up as well, pausing to place her hand on Raven’s shoulder. She whispered something into his ear which made him chuckle and blush just slightly and Liquid observed Octopus raise one barely there brow as she left the kitchen. The disguise master shook his head and sighed, turning to look at Liquid.
“You really sure you can resolve it?”
“I’ll do a better job than Ocelot.”
“That’s not saying much.”
“Don’t worry. I have a plan.”
“Don’t get maimed?”
Liquid patted Octopus on the shoulder and waved farewell to Raven as he took his leave. He really did have a
plan, but it could easily leave him to getting maimed. That evened things out on his moral compass. Passing by Mantis’ room on the way to his own, he caught himself almost knocking on the door. He even went so far to hold his wandering hand down by the wrist. No. Not yet. Later, when Mantis has had time to fume.
Hiding in the confines of his own room, Liquid took to an old technique that had done more for his physique than running for his life ever did. Exercising his woes away. He could forget anything by doing sit-ups, push-ups, chin-ups and every other kind of up known to man. He worked every muscle he could think of for what ended up being a few hours. He collapsed onto his bed, covered in sweat and smelling like he’d been broiling in an oven. He ached all over in a way that left him feeling very satisfied, but the moment he stopped, it all came back to him. Every time he opened his mouth around Mantis, he ran the risk of getting hurt. There had to be a way of talking to him that didn’t end in pain. Pain… Mantis had decked him. The psychic might as well have had bones made of glass.
“Oww…” He could feel a headache coming on. One of those all-over aches brought on by stress. And he reeked. A shower. And then pills. And maybe a drink to help the pills cure the ache. Nodding, he sat back up with a mandatory groan and rubbed the back of his neck. He grabbed spare clothes from his trunk and took them with him to the team’s shared shower. The familiar off-white tiles and faint scent of mildew were a slight comfort to him. Clean clothes set down on the bench where they wouldn’t get wet; he stripped down and started the water, finding that sweet zone where it wasn’t cold enough to make him shiver or hot enough to leave his skin red.
As with any base, the team took time to scope out what constituted as the showers, be it a multi-stall tiled sauna or a hole in the ceiling to let the rain in. This time around, it was a one-stall affair, decorated with a stack of wire shelves screwed into the wall. Liquid grabbed his shampoo bottle off the top shelf, reveling in the feeling of warm water running down his skin. He poured the goop into his hair and placed the bottle back down, massaging his scalp while working up the lather. He’d die before he admitted it, but the sensation of freshly washed hair was one of Liquid’s favorite things.
“Joan was quizzical: studied pataphysical science in the home…” He sung under his breath, letting the water rinse the soapy, eye-stinging mess out of his hair. “Late nights all alone with a test tube. Ohh, oh, oh, oh…” The rest of the song became a hum as he reached for the body wash next and gave himself the male edition of a thorough scrub-down, going from neck to shoulders to torso and downward still.
In the space of twenty minutes, Liquid went from reeking of sweat to reeking to smelling faintly of soap. He dripped on the tiles as the water trickled to a stop. Thank god for showers. He could be alone, even when circumstances forced him to share a room. Quickly toweling himself dry, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed the clean clothes, tugging on the boxers and socks before slipping into his pants. He zipped up and buttoned his pants, the fabric as snug as ever around his ass and thighs. Dirty clothes wrapped in a bundle, he walked back to his room, hoping he wasn’t jumping back into the fray too soon.
Turning the corner back to his room, Liquid saw Raven exiting the room he shared with Wolf down the hall. The two men stared at each other for a few seconds before Raven turned away towards the kitchen. Liquid shrugged and tossed his dirty clothes into his room without much care with regards to where they landed. Now came the hard part. He moved to Mantis’ bedroom door, not knowing what he’d find. Would the psychic try and kill him? Would he be peaceful? Would Liquid wind up across the hall with an even bigger headache than before?
Unsure of himself, Liquid knocked on the door.
The door opened. Mantis stood in the doorway, hands pressed against the frame. Liquid noticed the bandages wrapped around the gaunt psychic’s right hand. It was a sloppy job, but one couldn’t mistake the purpose.
“Your hand…” It disappeared behind Mantis’ back. Strike one against his big mouth.
“What is it? Haven’t you done enough for one day? Or did you want me to make your eyes match?”
“That won’t be necessary. I could re-do that for you.” Liquid gestured to the sloppy bandages. “It’ll be easier on your hand.” “No, thank you. Is that all?”
“No, I was…hoping to talk. Peacefully.”
They stood like that for well over a minute before Mantis stepped aside. Liquid turned a bit sideways to avoid touching him while entering the room. The door closed and locked behind them and Mantis walked forward, tugging at the bandages around his hand. It was then that Liquid noticed the psychic was wearing his casual clothes. Tank top, skinny jeans, and much shorter gloves, all black of course.
"I'm tired of this shit." Mantis said, looking at everything but the man before him. "Why would you say something so stupid?"
"Because I meant it." The answer came without hesitation. "I can’t lie to you, Mantis. You've always read my mind like an open book."
"Bullshit." Mantis shook his head. "You couldn't have meant that."
“And why not?” Liquid walked forward slowly, his socked feet barely making any noise on the floor. “I have a say in this, even if it runs counter to what you want.”
“I give you time to think and you decide to make me even more miserable?”
“I’m deciding to make you admit that there’s more than one solution to all this.”
“What makes you think that I would be alright with any more of this?”
“Nothing.” Liquid stood in front of Mantis and tilted his head to one side. “I expect you to be against this in some way no matter how I phrase it. No matter how much I think we can both benefit from it.”
“What…benefits?” Mantis looked to his left. “Benefits for you?”
“And you as well. Can’t you at least try to see it from my perspective?”
“What’s to see?”
“Look at me, Mantis.” Liquid sat next to the psychic, tugging at his shoulders until he met his commander’s gaze. “It’s not just the notion of sex, is it? What else are you afraid of?”
Tense silence fell between them. Liquid glared into Mantis’ eyes as best he could through the orange lenses.
The psychic shook in his grasp and took in a few shuddering breaths until he spoke.
“I’m…emotionally dead. I wouldn’t feel anything for you.”
Liquid blinked, his grip loosening. “I…” He licked his lips. “You’re far from emotionally dead.”
“I’ve never…never done this before. Ever.” Mantis tried to pull his arms away.
“I have.” Liquid’s hands fell to his side. “I’ll lead you.” He watched the psychic wrap his arms around himself.
“I hate people.”
“So do I.”
“I’m clinically insane.”
“Everyone here is.”
Mantis sighed and got up onto his feet. He began to pace around. “I’ve never…”
“I’ll be gentle. You know I can do that.” Liquid was amazed at what he had managed. A few carefully placed words, and he not only had Mantis thinking of the possibilities, but considering them. Still, he would plead his case carefully. There was only so much he could say before Mantis began to shut him out.
"It won't feel good. Not for me. Not while I'm still...bound." Mantis paused in his pacing, glanced down, and turned to Liquid.
"In that case, I'd be obligated to think of your happiness and help you...remove the binding in whatever way I could. It wouldn't deter me in the slightest." The words came out of his mouth before he could process what the appropriate response would be to such a statement. To his surprise, it was a response Mantis accepted, because he continued his pacing.
“What if I never get used to it? What if that never happens?”
“Then it won’t. I’ll wait until I’m sure there’s no chance, and I’ll give up entirely.”
Mantis wrung his hands as he paced back and forth. Liquid watched Mantis cross one end of the room to the other several times before flopping down on the bed with an aggravated sigh.
“You really won’t stop?”
“May I answer that honestly?” Mantis nodded. Liquid sighed. “I can’t shut my emotions away like you can and I know that this isn’t dying easily, or else you wouldn’t be so agitated. I’m not saying that you want this, but I can’t help but think that maybe if you indulged it rather than attempt to force it down, you’ll get over it sooner.”
“Indulge?” The psychic asked it in a parroting manner. “Like how they get children to stop bringing their toys to bed?”
“If you want to think of it that way, then yes.” Liquid’s shoulders slumped as he heaved a sigh of relief. He was very grateful to still be alive.
“If this were any other situation, I’d have you pinned down and choking for air.” Liquid’s sat still. “I know what you’re thinking. I don’t even need to read your thoughts to know. Indulge. Indulge until we’re either sick of it or we can’t get enough. Is that right?”
“W-well, yes. I was hoping that we might get bored with it and it would die out on its own.”
“It might not.”
“A risk worth taking for a restful night’s staying awake.”
“You realize what you’re asking of me, right?” Liquid could sense the way Mantis’ brow rose behind the mask.
“Completely.” Liquid replied without hesitation. “You are welcome to punish me as you see fit if this doesn’t go the way I planned.”
It was Mantis’ turn to sigh. He sat further back on the bed until he sat against the wall, his legs stretched out before him. “Alright.” He said after a few minutes. “But I claim the right to kill you if this doesn’t work like you think it will.”
“My body is my collateral.” Liquid held out his hand. Mantis shook it.
“I give this bullshit a month at best.” And the metaphorical contract was filed away under Liquid’s other bad ideas.
“So, boss-man,” Mantis took his hand back, rubbing it with the other. “What happens now?”
“Well, my surly secretary,” Liquid smirked and turned to face Mantis fully. “I thought I’d start by giving you a chance at taking control.”
“Meaning?”
“Put your hands on me.” Liquid could feel the dirty look Mantis gave him.
“Elaborate. Fast.”
“I’ve already gotten my mitts on you before. I think it’s time that you got the chance to put me in a headlock, more or less, and make my body your plaything. It’s only fair.” Liquid shrugged.
“I just had to say yes, didn’t I?” Mantis drew up his knees, creating his usual barrier between him and others in close spaces. “Elaborate more.”
“A plaything. You can use me like a stuffed animal. Touch me wherever, move me however, until you’ve had enough with exploring. You can pretend I’m an anatomical model.”
Mantis’ head lowered. Liquid could hear what was possibly muffled laughter coming from behind the mask. “Not like any anatomical model I’ve ever seen.”
Liquid crawled over to the psychic very slowly. It was as good a day to die as any, right? Par the course, Mantis backed away until he was against the wall.
“Mantis, I’m not going to bite.” They were about a foot apart, Liquid sitting on his knees.
“Just…give me a moment. I’m not really ready for this.” Behind the mask, Mantis looked away from his…boss? Lover? God, not that. “I mean, I understand the logic, but actually going along with it is just so…it’s just nothing I’ve ever thought about. Not since I was…oh, I can’t even remember now. And why am I babbling like an idiot?” His hands went behind his head, fingers lacing.
“You’re just nervous. It’s okay.” Liquid reached out, only to have his hand slapped away. Mantis flinched, clutching his injured hand. “Don’t freak out on me, Mantis.” The blonde soldier had been taught, long ago in his childhood, that when faced with an angered wild animal, you should always speak to it in a calm tone of voice. It was amazing how often such simple tricks seemed to work on people.
“What the fuck do you think I’m trying to do?” The psychic moved a few inches away. Not enough to make a real physical difference, but enough that it felt like a lot. “Let me be…”
“In this state?” Liquid allowed the distance and matched Mantis’ bent up position as best as he could, wiggling his toes in the confines of his socks. "I refuse to leave you alone when so distressed. What would it say of my character?"
"It would say that you respect my wishes. Go away."
“No. I’m stay-“ The reply was cut off with a yelp as Liquid found himself pressed down into the mattress. An invisible force pressed against every inch of his body. He opened his mouth to protest, but found it quite impossible as his vocal chords seemed to have been immobilized as well. On one hand, he was praying he’d make it out of this alive. On the other, he really had to hand it to Mantis for going along with is idea, even if it wasn’t in the way he had anticipated. Now, if only the psychic would give him a little warning each time, Liquid could definitely get used to this sort of thing.
“You really can’t let me be, can you?” Liquid could hear the soft creak of bedsprings and the rustle of sheets. Mantis was on the move. “And to think they call me the madman.”
Liquid shivered as a chill went down his spine. He had been moved around with psychokinesis and spoke with the psychic telepathically, but this was very new. This was being held in place. Being a living statue.
“Are you frightened?” Mantis asked.
Liquid tried to speak once more. He found it to be manageable, but exceedingly difficult. “No.” He gasped.
“If you do get scared…say ‘blue’.”
“Blue…” Liquid croaked. His throat hurt a little. The pressure around his neck lessened just a small bit, and he could breathe freely again.
For many agonizing minutes, Liquid listened to the sounds of Mantis moving around him. Pillows were moved out of the way, because he could see them sailing over his head and hear them hitting the floor. One very rational part of him wanted to ask the obvious question regarding Mantis’ plans. An equally rational side spoke out against such an idea. There was enough at stake, it reasoned, without giving Mantis a reason to kill him.
“How does a man of your rank develop such a death wish?” Mantis had moved to sit next to his head. Liquid could smell the leather. Long fingers traced the shape of Liquid’s eyes, nose and cheekbones. Bony hands, one wrapped in bandages and the other in leather, slid down the sides of Liquid’s face. Green eyes closed and Liquid sighed. You wouldn’t think it of a man with a distinct negative body mass index, but Mantis had warm hands. Liquid could envision the other man’s strange and terrible power seeping out from each fingertip. He sorely missed that warmth when those palms traveled down to his shoulders and crudely clipped nails dug into his skin.
A low hiss rose between the soldier’s clenched teeth. Oh, he could get very used to this if the psychic chose to keep it up. The droplets of blood welling up on his skin barely registered in his mind. What Liquid did pay some attention to was the two inches that separated him and the mattress. The miniscule hairs all over his arms stood up on end. He could very easily imagine the goose flesh rising up. Okay. This was interesting.
Skinny fingers painted thin stripes of blood as they slowly worked their way along the length of Liquid’s arms. They followed the curve of the muscles and traced the skin stained with dark ink. The rod of Asclepius. It was one of the few ways Liquid had intentionally marked himself. A large tattoo that graced his arm with all the detail he could fit over his biceps. Liquid groaned softly. The only thing that would make this perfect was a soft lap to lie down on and the only lap available was notoriously bony and studded with metal buckles.
Liquid opened his eyes. As he expected, the most he saw was the ceiling. How depressing. Of all the times he wanted full control of his neck… Near as he could tell, Mantis was sitting behind him, so he tried looking up. All it did was give him a slight headache. He shut his eyes again. Mantis was exploring Liquid’s fingers. Thoughtful sounding murmurs came from the psychic.
“Calluses.” Mantis said quietly. “It’s like sandpaper.”
And your fingers feel like twigs. Liquid quipped silently. He could feel the bandages on Mantis’s injured hand. Against his better judgment, Liquid forced his constricted vocal chords to produce a groan of annoyance. He wanted to move his goddamn head. Mantis released Liquid’s hand to yank his hair.
“This was your idea.” Liquid was reminded. “Don’t bitch.”
His arms abandoned, Liquid’s chest came under attack from Mantis’ fingernails. Did the man ever indulge in a manicure? Or an emery board? Liquid’s skin yelled at him as it was decorated with red lines from collar bone to the hem of his pants. Mantis scratched like a wild animal. Moved like one too, near as Liquid could sense. The psychic relocated across the bed again. He was crouched by Liquid’s legs, one fingertip lazily tracing along the valleys between. Pecs, six pack, everything. Mantis even had the nerve to give Liquid’s right nipple a good pinch and twist out of spite, which stung like a motherfucker.
It only got better from there. Mantis moved once again and was now sitting atop Liquid’s thighs. Liquid tried to see what his captor was up to, but as before, his field of vision was unbearably limited. All he could see was the upper half of Mantis’ mask. This is getting to be tedious. Liquid thought to himself, sighing within. A prude was a prude no matter how much freedom you gave him.
“Fuck you, Liquid.” Mantis dug his nail into his boss’s stomach. The gaunt psychic dragged his hand across Liquid’s abdomen, carving shallow scratches into tanned skin. By the time Mantis drew his hand away the other man’s stomach was covered in puffy, pink scrapes and thin trickles of blood.
That son of a bitch! Though it hurt him to fight back, Liquid made a distinctly annoyed sound and strained against the psychic restraints. Mantis! I am going to get you for this. Let me speak, damn it!
“No...” The psychic ran the back of his nails along the tanned skin of Liquid’s chest. His voice was low and filled with barely restrained anger. “I’m fucking tired of you.” That’s when Liquid began to worry. That was Mantis’ ‘I just might hurt you now’ tone. “You just can’t leave well enough alone, can you?” Just when Liquid was certain that Death had finally decided to take him, Mantis sighed. All at once, Liquid found he could turn his head and craned his neck as far as he could, watching the psychic go back to sitting on the bed.
Bewildered, frustrated, and aching for some freedom of movement, Liquid squirmed as much as his remaining telekinetic bonds would allow, a choked whine escaping his mouth. He could see a shiver go through Mantis’ body. The psychic clenched his spidery hands into tight fists, head bowed.
“How did you do this to me?” Mantis whispered, his voice harsh and raspy through the mask.
I am a clone of a man who could wax poetic about guns. Liquid thought to himself, hoping that Mantis was still reading his thoughts. People like you make my life more interesting. That outfit you always wear does incredible things for your figure. I have a twisted desire to see you in the throes of ecstasy by my own doing again. I’m selfish. I’m human. What do you want from me?!
A groan slipped from Liquid’s lips, low and gravely. Why did the sisters of fate love to fuck with him so? He closed his eyes and quietly gave up on ever being able to do the right thing when dealing with Mantis. Then he felt the warm palms on his hips. A thumb brushed against the waistband of his pants.
“I heard that.” Mantis said in a muted voice. Liquid could feel the leather sliding along his legs as Mantis sat closer. “You really could…l-love me… Couldn’t you?”
Yes. Liquid opened his eyes and saw the dark shape of the psychic in his peripheral vision. I may be crazy for thinking this, but I really think I can.
Trickles of whispers filled Liquid’s ears. They grew louder and more distinct with a rapid pace and he found himself hearing Mantis’s muted thoughts. Russian words strung together like they were being spoken through a wall. He knew this sensation well enough from all the times he and Mantis spoke psychically, but this time.... Usually, he could sense the thoughts themselves more than anything else. More vague things were floating around into his head this time. Fragments of words. Sensations. Emotions…
Fear and confusion traded places with one another. Can’t let...why does…he’s so…body… can’t let myself…more. Want more. Want him. Want. Don’t want… It was a clusterfuck of miniscule thoughts and each thought came with a surge of emotion that flooded Liquid’s senses. Fear quickened his heartbeat. Confusion sent his blood rushing to his head. Curiosity made his fingertips itch. Liquid’s brow knotted together as the invasive sensations clouded his own thoughts.
They were Mantis’ emotions, he knew that much, but how could they be so intense? It was like drowning. Liquid could barely get his lungs to take in air. He would have tried to force Mantis away so he could breathe, but there was always a small something hiding amongst all the emotions. Something simple. Base. A tear fell from one eye as he sought out that small something. Want to run…shouldn’t be…leave…stop looking for…want…want to…touch. There. That was it. That was-
Mantis pulled his mind away, and suddenly the whole world seemed to go silent. Liquid’s mind felt empty after all that. Everything was dark and the sounds of his labored breathing and the pounding heart seemed distant and muffled. Slender fingers brushed against his brow.
“Liquid?” He heard Mantis’ voice in the distance, barely audible. “Liquid!” Green eyes shot open. The room went into focus. He was alone in his own head. Wow… What the hell? “Dumbass…”
Liquid’s mouth curved up into a smug grin. He had felt the lust. His precious psychic teammate wanted this. It was enough to make any snake smile. Mantis sighed through the mask and scratched Liquid again from shoulder to waist raked his fingernails down Liquid’s torso from shoulder to waist. “I hate you. I hate how you make me do these awful things.” Liquid bit back a triumphant snicker as Mantis fumbled with the button and zipper. “I used to have class and a sense of dignity.” The khaki pants slid slowly down Liquid’s thighs until the thick fabric bunched around his calves. There was no mistaking the semi underneath the boxers. “And you are nothing less than the animal I always thought you were.”
“If I let you talk,” Mantis’s hands rested just above the elastic waistband of Liquid’s boxers. “You’ll say something stupid, won’t you?” It was a statement more than a question. Long fingers splayed across tan skin, drumming meaningless beats as Liquid awaited his fate.
After an excruciatingly long moment’s wait, the psychic’s fingers finally slid under the band of the boxers now very much resembling a circus tent. The fabric crept down Liquid’s thighs before meeting the pants still crumpled up at his calves. If every muscle within him wasn’t under Mantis’ influence, his hips would have jerked up at the feeling of cool air on his cock.
Now, if only he could watch… Annoyingly enough, those long, slender and oooooh….warm, so warm and feeling so good to the skin of the thigh a little higher if you would…wait. Where are they going now? Liquid was far from ungrateful. Really, it was a miracle he hadn’t been outright killed at this point. So when Mantis’ hands pressed against Liquid’s cheeks and he was staring into those ungodly cold eyes through orange lenses, there were a great deal of unanswered questions begging for answers. One thumb wiped over the eye still damp with tears. It was… uncomfortable. He had seen such a look in wild animals contemplating whether or not the smaller animal they saw was good for eating.
“Only. You.” The words came with a chilling clarity from behind the mask. Mantis dragged his hands along Liquid’s face. One palm over his lips, the other resting over his throat. Liquid could speak. He kissed the palm pressed against his mouth. Psycho Mantis's spidery hands wandered south, tracing collarbone, shoulders, arms, chest, caressing the many scratches he had inflicted. Musculature flexed with each passing touch in a chorus of thanks until Mantis paused above the patch of not-blonde pubes. Liquid held his breath. Was Mantis really going to do this?
Mantis pulled off his glove and reached out with his uninjured hand, fingertips lightly brushing against the small patch of dark hair. Liquid jerked at the gentle touch and then it struck him that he had enough freedom of movement to jerk. It must have been incidental, though, since he still couldn’t do more than gasp. Really, he was a bit embarrassed. His pubes were the only remaining proof that he had been anything but a blonde. Mantis’s fingers moved southward still, until warm fingertips brushed the base of Liquid’s cock. It felt so much better than when Liquid would do such things to himself. Why was it always so much more arousing when someone else touched you? Was it because you had no idea where they’d go next? That must have been it.
Green eyes vanished and reappeared behind Liquid’s fluttering lids. A warm hand hesitantly gripped his cock and slowly slid up and down. It was a glorious sensation that excited him to full attention with minimal prompting. More than once, Mantis paused in his reluctant strokes like a child meeting an animal larger than they for the first time. Stopping was not in his plans, near as Liquid could feel. Being more perceptive than most gave him credit for, the blond man was very much aware of how uncomfortable this must have been for Mantis. There was no way the psychic could be in a caaaaaaalmohgod…. Thumb. Thumb right on the tip, god that never stopped feeling so good…
It was terribly unfair. Each breath Liquid took came in between gritted teeth. He still couldn’t speak, and desperately wanted to let out a groan that had been hitched in his throat for several minutes now. For fucks sake, Mantis! He bitched in his head as bony fingers tentatively brushed against his balls. Just give me some muscle movement back so I can wriggle around!
Then he felt his toes twitch. Not all of them, but definitely the little toes on his right foot and the left big toe. It wasn’t very important, though. Psycho Mantis was massaging his balls. To think there are people who honestly believe miracles never happen. Miracles like Mantis running his trembling fingers across the other man’s, inquisitive and a little scared. The pain in his throat didn’t even bother Liquid much as he groaned, feeling Mantis’s palm his cock. Had Liquid been with any other person, he’d have spread his legs and arched into the touch. Had he had any freedom of movement he’d have clutched at the sheets and tossed his head from one side to the other as he conjured up his dirtiest fantasies to make it just that much better.
Reality was a bitch. In reality, all Liquid could do was strain and struggle helplessly as the muscles in his hips jerked and twitched futilely while he received the world’s most awkward handjob from the world’s most awkward human being. As far as technique went, Mantis was horribly inexperienced and uncertain in his movements, leading to some instances where his nails were scratching Liquid’s cock or simply digging in too hard. Liquid had gotten far better handjobs under far kinder circumstances in the past, but in spite of that fact, he was enjoying himself quite completely. Why long for technique when you had the rush of adrenaline and the fear of being maimed at any minute to keep your heart rate up?
All Liquid had to bitch about was how Mantis was such a wuss about the whole thing. Too light. Liquid whined internally. For fucks sake, Mantis, I’m not made of plasticine! There was another scratch: more towards the tip this time. CHRIST, that hurt. And trim you’re fucking nails with something other than a straightedge! I want to keep this thing attached! The pain made all of his toes curl that time. Now that was interesting… He had distinctly felt all ten of them moving that time. His fingers were getting some mobility as well.
So he closed his eyes and licked his lips and felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he was stroked and fondled. Really, it was all he could do. If Mantis continued slowly rescinding his psychic restraints, Liquid had no doubt he’d be lying down at some point, but not soon. Hell, he wouldn’t cum any time soon unless Mantis worked up some courage and picked up the pace of his stroke. The thought alone nearly made Liquid roll his eyes, even though he knew his face was likely flushed from the effort struggling against his restraints.
Then a second miracle happened. After a great deal of fumbling and clumsy technique Mantis seemed to have finally slipped into a decent rhythm. That son of a bitch it still reading my thoughts. That was the only explanation for the way Mantis figured out to be careful with his nails and that one hand on cock and the other on balls was a good combination. Liquid was mentally cheering and squirming to the full extent his restraints allowed. The psychic’s thumb was pressing against the tip of his cock again, spreading the slick pre-cum. A full body tremor barely made him twitch under the psychic’s hold.
At that point, Liquid just gave up on thinking. It hurt too much and what Mantis’s spidery hands were doing between his legs was far more captivating and felt much nicer. Liquid’s mouth moved, though sound barely came out. He thrust his hips in time with Mantis’s still tentative, but notably quickened, strokes as much as the remaining psychic restraints would allow him. And there wasn’t that much left to hold him down.
“M-m-Man…tis…” Liquid knew this building sensation very well. Floating about two inches off the mattress, Blondie moved his head leftways and rightways, still trapped in the lying down position, little as it mattered. Mantis was pumping faster, evidently aware of how close Liquid was. Liquid clenched his teeth. His face was a unique shade of red and beads of sweat were pooling up at his temple.
He came with a grunt usually saved for when a fist made contact with his stomach. Not a second after the last shudder made its way through Liquid’s body, the bed frame creaked under his full weight. Liquid gasped and choked on air, writhing on the bedsheet. Liquid groaned as he turned over, trying to remember which way was up. Wow. The blonde man was in such a state of shock, he could barely recall how to cuss. His arms felt heavy, and he clumsily pulled himself to the edge of the bed. With numbed, shaky hands he reached for his boxers and slowly pulled them up, not caring that his cock was still a little stiff. As he adjusted the band, he absently wiped away the sticky mess on his lower abdomen.
The snake smiled and sat up. He was alive. He had all ten fingers and toes, eyes and ears, his nose and everything else he knew he’d miss if they were removed from his body. What mattered was that Liquid was alive and he needed to make sure death was not around the corner on his white horse and the entirety of hell. He turned his gaze to Mantis, who had remained remarkably silent.
As usual, the psychic had retreated into his “ball of safety” and seemed intent on ignoring Liquid with every fiber of his being. Liquid scooched closer and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. A sweat-slicked lock of blond hair fell over his shoulder and he could see Mantis’ face, or at least his mask. Grey eyes glared at him from behind the orange lenses and Liquid knew that he had better leave or else Death really would come for him. He nodded and got off the bed, pausing only to pull up his pants and zip up. With a dancer’s grace, he walked quietly to the door and turned back to the bed. Mantis had turned to stare at the wall, giving the blond man a good view of his back and the way his legs were rubbing together.
Jumping to conclusions best saved for later, Liquid left without a word and went back to his room. He closed the door, locked it and took several long breaths, bracing himself against the wall. A broad grin spread across Liquid’s face and he punched the air victoriously before flopping down with one of the most content sighs ever sighed. Liquid knew there was a lot of work ahead of him; but as far as he was concerned, things were off to a wonderful start.