FIC: Catalyst (part 32) (Harry Sinclair, Karl Urban, Orlando Bloom, Dave Wenham)
Title: "Catalyst" (Part Thirty-Two)
Authors: Brenda (azewewish) & Jo (idiosyncratic)
Series: Claimed Universe
Notes: Click here for full disclaimers and pairings.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen | Part Seventeen | Part Eighteen | Part Nineteen | Part Twenty | Part Twenty-One | Part Twenty-Two | Part Twenty-Three | Part Twenty-Four | Part Twenty-Five | Part Twenty-Six | Part Twenty-Seven | Part Twenty-Eight | Part Twenty-Nine | Part Thirty | Part Thirty-One
It took no time to clear the papers from the desk. Sean made sure he stacked them neatly in a nearby chair. No need to give Harry reason to change his mind. His eyes shifted to the door. Harry had given no clue as to how long he would be, but Sean wasn't going to take any chances. Each move efficient and calm, he stripped his pants off, folded them, and set them aside before taking several deep breaths to relax as he stepped up to the desk and bent over it, arms outstretched so he could curl his hands around the sides.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. He could feel the leather of the collar around his neck, and it helped center him. Right now, he belonged to Harry. Harry would take good care of him.
He had no idea how much time had passed before he heard the creaking of Harry's footsteps on the hardwood floor. They paused a foot or so behind him. Sean's breath sounded inordinately loud to his own ears as he waited, unmoving.
Another moment passed. Two. Three. Then Sean heard a slight whistling sound. The immediate sharp burst of pain across the back of his thighs was a welcome, visceral shock to Sean's entire body.
There was barely enough time to draw a breath before the whistling came again, followed by a throbbing so intense that Sean arched off the desk. Holy fuck, what was Harry using on him? Sean almost turned to see, but stopped himself just in time. He knew if he looked, Harry would stop. So he gritted his teeth, held tight to the desk, and fought to keep his body from instinctively reacting.
//Relax.// It was a low purr just before the next blow, this time across his ass. Ohfuckohfuckohfuck... The next one came on the heels of the first, viciously fast, stole Sean's breath.
"You look beautiful like this. Stretched out for me, my marks on you..."
Sean shuddered at the dark promise in the words. He wasn't going to survive this. There was the slightest pause between blows, and Sean took advantage of it. As he attempted to relax each muscle, he heard Harry's low chuckle behind him.
It was all the warning he had.
The next blows came hard and fast, with no time between them to catch his breath, no time to untense his body from the pain spiking through him. It was as if Harry had simply been getting a measure of how much Sean would take. Whatever it was, he quickly settled into a rhythm that wasn't really a rhythm, and Sean was writhing against the desk before he realized it.
All he could focus on was each snap across his thighs, ass, lower back, each blow swift and calculated. Every sense was in overload, heightened to the point of unbearable. Every harsh rasp of breath was too loud in his ears, his skin felt too tight, his heart felt like it might burst out of his chest.
//Just a little more for me.//
Harry didn't give Sean time to respond - not that he could have made a sound. Pain flared with the next blow, and it was like something inside Sean snapped. His entire body went pliant as he started arching, anticipating Harry's movements. Sean gave himself completely over to Harry, to Harry owning him and marking him, branding him like property.
A few more blows, and Sean rolled with them, words he didn't understand tumbling from his lips. Some small part of his brain told him he should know them, but he ignored it because it wasn't important. What was important was the sound of something hitting the floor a split second before strong hands grabbed his hips.
Blunt fingers slid over bruised and welted flesh, then dug in, planting fresh bruises. Sean's gasp was buried by Harry's growl as Harry pushed into him, slick and hot, fully seating himself as Sean bucked. Fresh pain exploded through him, whipped across raw nerves, tripped across his brain until he was a bundle of pure sensation that wanted more.
He pushed back, welcoming the sting with each thrust. Harry drove himself deeper and deeper, pushed Sean across the desk with so much force that Sean thought it might buckle beneath them. Harry filled him, surrounded him, hard body pressing him down as his cock filled him over and over. Then Harry tugged back on the collar, leather digging into vulnerable skin, until Sean was bowed completely against Harry, his for the taking, completely Harry's.
Through the white noise in his ears, he could dimly hear Harry's voice, raw and untamed, growling at him, words of possession, words that marked him just as clearly as the deep welts on his body and the collar around his neck. Sean responded on pure instinct, offered everything, his body, his thoughts, his pain and pleasure, so twined together he couldn't tell which was which. His entire being was focused on Harry, on giving Harry everything he had to give. Bright lights exploded behind his eyelids when Harry yanked on the collar, cutting off oxygen, and through the haze, he felt Harry's fangs sink into the skin just below his throat.
The intensity of the orgasm that ripped through him pulled a scream from his throat. Through the haze of darkness that fell over him, Sean felt Harry stiffen against him. Then everything went black.
He knew he couldn't have been out long when the bite of the desk edge into his thighs brought him back to himself. Harry was still buried deep inside his body, mouth now gentle on Sean's throat. He was still trapped, and that was just fine with him. Sean wasn't sure he could move if he tried. //Fuck...me...//
//Think I'll have to get my breath back first.//
Sean managed a tired chuckle. //No rush.//
//Ah, good.// Harry nuzzled at the collar and let out a contented hum. //You truly are gorgeous like this.//
Sean flushed with pleasure at the compliment and wondered a little at his response. It wasn't like this was the first time Harry had said something like that. He pushed it to the back of his mind and turned his head to rest his cheek on the desk. "Not so bad yourself," he replied, not trusting himself to speak louder. Some of those screams had been throat-ripping in their intensity.
Harry gave the back of his neck a small kiss, then straightened. When he pulled out, he did it slowly, giving Sean a chance to regain some sort of equilibrium. The second Harry's warmth left him, Sean started shivering, as every welt and bruise made themselves known.
"Don't move." It was a gentle order. "I'll be right back."
"Yes, sir," Sean said, the words automatic. He closed his eyes, tried to relax. Harry didn't need to worry about him going anywhere. Sean had a feeling that if he let go of the desk, he was going to end up on the floor.
He sensed Harry coming back in the room a few minutes later, but didn't move. Harry hadn't given him permission yet. Then he felt cool fingers, coated with some sort of salve, slide across the welts on his lower back, and he almost wept with gratitude. "Thank you, sir."
"Shhh...don't talk." Another soft order as the fingers continued to glide over his skin. "Just relax so I can do this."
The salve was cool, soothing, and Harry took his time applying it to Sean's skin. When he hit a sensitive spot, Sean hissed through clenched teeth. "Hurt?" Harry asked, pausing, and Sean nodded.
"A little, sir," he admitted, forcing each muscle to relax once more. Harry's hand returned, the touch lighter this time, gentler. The idea that he would carry some of the marks for more than a few hours pleased him, and he couldn't help the smile that formed on his face.
"You're happy about something." It wasn't a question.
"Yessir."
Harry stood, sliding his hands along Sean's side, the touch light, possessive. "Why?"
Sean let out a low, satisfied sigh. "I'll be wearing your marks for days, sir."
Warm breath tickled his ear. "And this pleases you?"
"Yes, sir," he said, fingers clenching and unclenching around the edge of the desk as Harry's breath continued to caress his ear and throat.
"Why?" The question was low, firm, but Harry's hands remained gentle as they slid along Sean's sides.
"They'll remind me that you own me, even when I don't have my collar on, sir."
Harry tilted Sean's head back, the kiss gentle, slow, stealing what little breath Sean had left. "Think you can make it to the Jacuzzi for me?" Harry asked, when he lifted his head.
Mutely, Sean nodded. Whatever Harry asked or required of him, he would do, and gladly.
"Put your arm around my shoulders," Harry instructed, and Sean obeyed, gratefully leaning into Harry's body for strength. He still felt like a newborn. They made their slow way down the steps that led to the basement bedroom, and into the spacious bathroom. Sean was touched to see that the jets in the Jacuzzi were already going.
With Harry's help, Sean stepped into the Jacuzzi and sank down into the water. As the heat slid over his abused muscles, he groaned, then breathed out a soft sigh. "Thank you, sir."
Harry slid into the water, hissing a little at the heat, then he gently pulled Sean to sit in the cradle of his thighs. "Better?"
"Yes, sir."
They sat in comfortable silence for a long time. Sean concentrated on each ache, each welt and bruise, each mark, as his body began the slow process of healing itself. He snuggled against Harry, content to simply sit and let the warm water work its magic.
After a long while, Harry placed a light kiss to his jaw. "It's time." Then Sean felt the collar loosen, and slip completely off his neck. Grief shot through him, fast and bright, for a handful of moments.
"Okay?"
Sean nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet, and took a moment to get himself back under control. He wasn't ready to examine his reaction to the loss of the collar yet. "Sore," he finally said, with a quick grin, "but I'll live. Fucking intense, though."
"That it was," Harry agreed, with his own smile.
"What the hell did you use on me, anyway?" Now that he could ask, he was more than a little curious.
"One of my old belts." Harry traced one of the marks on Sean's back with gentle fingers. "Seemed like it would do the job."
"It did, believe me." Sean twisted around to straddle Harry's thighs as Harry chuckled.
"You did say you wanted marks."
"I did." Thinking back over what had happened, Sean ran his palms along Harry's biceps. "Hell of a swing you've got," he said, playing on a hunch. "You swing as hard as you could?"
"You know I didn't."
"Why not?"
"There wasn't a need." Harry settled his hands on Sean's hips, looked him in the eyes. "I wanted to mark you, not maim you."
"I'm a vampire. I'll heal." When Harry opened his mouth to reply, Sean covered it with his fingers. "Would it be easier for you if we used a safe word?"
"I don't know," Harry answered. It seemed like the words were being dragged out of him.
Sean frowned. On some level, he'd always known that Harry had this core of control that he never shed, no matter how provoked. He'd been witness to Harry and Karl trying to tear each other limb from limb, then try to fuck each other into the ground, and he'd sensed that both of them, even with each other, held back just a little bit. He'd always put it down to their strange, inexplicable bond and that they could test the other's limits without fear, but maybe for Harry it was something more.
"You don't have to be afraid you'll hurt me, you know," he finally said. "I trust you with this. I trust you enough to place myself completely at your mercy."
"I know," Harry replied, as he rubbed soothing circles along Sean's back. "You trust me enough to give yourself over completely to me. I won't dishonor that by losing myself."
"Do you trust me?"
"With my life. You know that."
"Then trust me to know when to stop you."
Harry shook his head slowly. He looked so troubled that Sean had to repress the urge to tell him to forget the conversation. "I..."
Once again, Sean shut him up, this time with a light kiss. "I'm not asking for miracles. I'm just asking you to try. The collar works both ways. I'm trusting you to own me when it's on. So own me."
Harry's lips flickered into a small smile. "I generally take good care of things in my possession."
Sean chuckled, and gave Harry another kiss. "Oh, I felt very taken care of."
"Not that it was in any doubt."
"It's a wonder Karl's put up with you as long as he has," Sean said, fighting back laughter. "Your arrogance grows every year."
Harry snorted as he wrapped an arm around Sean's hips to drag him closer. "You say that like it's a bad thing," he said, then moved just a fraction. It was enough to slide his half-hard cock along Sean's. "How do you feel now?"
Sean rocked against him, certain his own smile was just as arrogant as Harry's. "Well enough to take you on," he said, fangs flashing as he leaned in lick a long stripe along Harry's jaw.
Harry's only response was a low moan of approval.
(To Be Continued)
Authors: Brenda (azewewish) & Jo (idiosyncratic)
Series: Claimed Universe
Notes: Click here for full disclaimers and pairings.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen | Part Seventeen | Part Eighteen | Part Nineteen | Part Twenty | Part Twenty-One | Part Twenty-Two | Part Twenty-Three | Part Twenty-Four | Part Twenty-Five | Part Twenty-Six | Part Twenty-Seven | Part Twenty-Eight | Part Twenty-Nine | Part Thirty | Part Thirty-One
It took no time to clear the papers from the desk. Sean made sure he stacked them neatly in a nearby chair. No need to give Harry reason to change his mind. His eyes shifted to the door. Harry had given no clue as to how long he would be, but Sean wasn't going to take any chances. Each move efficient and calm, he stripped his pants off, folded them, and set them aside before taking several deep breaths to relax as he stepped up to the desk and bent over it, arms outstretched so he could curl his hands around the sides.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. He could feel the leather of the collar around his neck, and it helped center him. Right now, he belonged to Harry. Harry would take good care of him.
He had no idea how much time had passed before he heard the creaking of Harry's footsteps on the hardwood floor. They paused a foot or so behind him. Sean's breath sounded inordinately loud to his own ears as he waited, unmoving.
Another moment passed. Two. Three. Then Sean heard a slight whistling sound. The immediate sharp burst of pain across the back of his thighs was a welcome, visceral shock to Sean's entire body.
There was barely enough time to draw a breath before the whistling came again, followed by a throbbing so intense that Sean arched off the desk. Holy fuck, what was Harry using on him? Sean almost turned to see, but stopped himself just in time. He knew if he looked, Harry would stop. So he gritted his teeth, held tight to the desk, and fought to keep his body from instinctively reacting.
//Relax.// It was a low purr just before the next blow, this time across his ass. Ohfuckohfuckohfuck... The next one came on the heels of the first, viciously fast, stole Sean's breath.
"You look beautiful like this. Stretched out for me, my marks on you..."
Sean shuddered at the dark promise in the words. He wasn't going to survive this. There was the slightest pause between blows, and Sean took advantage of it. As he attempted to relax each muscle, he heard Harry's low chuckle behind him.
It was all the warning he had.
The next blows came hard and fast, with no time between them to catch his breath, no time to untense his body from the pain spiking through him. It was as if Harry had simply been getting a measure of how much Sean would take. Whatever it was, he quickly settled into a rhythm that wasn't really a rhythm, and Sean was writhing against the desk before he realized it.
All he could focus on was each snap across his thighs, ass, lower back, each blow swift and calculated. Every sense was in overload, heightened to the point of unbearable. Every harsh rasp of breath was too loud in his ears, his skin felt too tight, his heart felt like it might burst out of his chest.
//Just a little more for me.//
Harry didn't give Sean time to respond - not that he could have made a sound. Pain flared with the next blow, and it was like something inside Sean snapped. His entire body went pliant as he started arching, anticipating Harry's movements. Sean gave himself completely over to Harry, to Harry owning him and marking him, branding him like property.
A few more blows, and Sean rolled with them, words he didn't understand tumbling from his lips. Some small part of his brain told him he should know them, but he ignored it because it wasn't important. What was important was the sound of something hitting the floor a split second before strong hands grabbed his hips.
Blunt fingers slid over bruised and welted flesh, then dug in, planting fresh bruises. Sean's gasp was buried by Harry's growl as Harry pushed into him, slick and hot, fully seating himself as Sean bucked. Fresh pain exploded through him, whipped across raw nerves, tripped across his brain until he was a bundle of pure sensation that wanted more.
He pushed back, welcoming the sting with each thrust. Harry drove himself deeper and deeper, pushed Sean across the desk with so much force that Sean thought it might buckle beneath them. Harry filled him, surrounded him, hard body pressing him down as his cock filled him over and over. Then Harry tugged back on the collar, leather digging into vulnerable skin, until Sean was bowed completely against Harry, his for the taking, completely Harry's.
Through the white noise in his ears, he could dimly hear Harry's voice, raw and untamed, growling at him, words of possession, words that marked him just as clearly as the deep welts on his body and the collar around his neck. Sean responded on pure instinct, offered everything, his body, his thoughts, his pain and pleasure, so twined together he couldn't tell which was which. His entire being was focused on Harry, on giving Harry everything he had to give. Bright lights exploded behind his eyelids when Harry yanked on the collar, cutting off oxygen, and through the haze, he felt Harry's fangs sink into the skin just below his throat.
The intensity of the orgasm that ripped through him pulled a scream from his throat. Through the haze of darkness that fell over him, Sean felt Harry stiffen against him. Then everything went black.
He knew he couldn't have been out long when the bite of the desk edge into his thighs brought him back to himself. Harry was still buried deep inside his body, mouth now gentle on Sean's throat. He was still trapped, and that was just fine with him. Sean wasn't sure he could move if he tried. //Fuck...me...//
//Think I'll have to get my breath back first.//
Sean managed a tired chuckle. //No rush.//
//Ah, good.// Harry nuzzled at the collar and let out a contented hum. //You truly are gorgeous like this.//
Sean flushed with pleasure at the compliment and wondered a little at his response. It wasn't like this was the first time Harry had said something like that. He pushed it to the back of his mind and turned his head to rest his cheek on the desk. "Not so bad yourself," he replied, not trusting himself to speak louder. Some of those screams had been throat-ripping in their intensity.
Harry gave the back of his neck a small kiss, then straightened. When he pulled out, he did it slowly, giving Sean a chance to regain some sort of equilibrium. The second Harry's warmth left him, Sean started shivering, as every welt and bruise made themselves known.
"Don't move." It was a gentle order. "I'll be right back."
"Yes, sir," Sean said, the words automatic. He closed his eyes, tried to relax. Harry didn't need to worry about him going anywhere. Sean had a feeling that if he let go of the desk, he was going to end up on the floor.
He sensed Harry coming back in the room a few minutes later, but didn't move. Harry hadn't given him permission yet. Then he felt cool fingers, coated with some sort of salve, slide across the welts on his lower back, and he almost wept with gratitude. "Thank you, sir."
"Shhh...don't talk." Another soft order as the fingers continued to glide over his skin. "Just relax so I can do this."
The salve was cool, soothing, and Harry took his time applying it to Sean's skin. When he hit a sensitive spot, Sean hissed through clenched teeth. "Hurt?" Harry asked, pausing, and Sean nodded.
"A little, sir," he admitted, forcing each muscle to relax once more. Harry's hand returned, the touch lighter this time, gentler. The idea that he would carry some of the marks for more than a few hours pleased him, and he couldn't help the smile that formed on his face.
"You're happy about something." It wasn't a question.
"Yessir."
Harry stood, sliding his hands along Sean's side, the touch light, possessive. "Why?"
Sean let out a low, satisfied sigh. "I'll be wearing your marks for days, sir."
Warm breath tickled his ear. "And this pleases you?"
"Yes, sir," he said, fingers clenching and unclenching around the edge of the desk as Harry's breath continued to caress his ear and throat.
"Why?" The question was low, firm, but Harry's hands remained gentle as they slid along Sean's sides.
"They'll remind me that you own me, even when I don't have my collar on, sir."
Harry tilted Sean's head back, the kiss gentle, slow, stealing what little breath Sean had left. "Think you can make it to the Jacuzzi for me?" Harry asked, when he lifted his head.
Mutely, Sean nodded. Whatever Harry asked or required of him, he would do, and gladly.
"Put your arm around my shoulders," Harry instructed, and Sean obeyed, gratefully leaning into Harry's body for strength. He still felt like a newborn. They made their slow way down the steps that led to the basement bedroom, and into the spacious bathroom. Sean was touched to see that the jets in the Jacuzzi were already going.
With Harry's help, Sean stepped into the Jacuzzi and sank down into the water. As the heat slid over his abused muscles, he groaned, then breathed out a soft sigh. "Thank you, sir."
Harry slid into the water, hissing a little at the heat, then he gently pulled Sean to sit in the cradle of his thighs. "Better?"
"Yes, sir."
They sat in comfortable silence for a long time. Sean concentrated on each ache, each welt and bruise, each mark, as his body began the slow process of healing itself. He snuggled against Harry, content to simply sit and let the warm water work its magic.
After a long while, Harry placed a light kiss to his jaw. "It's time." Then Sean felt the collar loosen, and slip completely off his neck. Grief shot through him, fast and bright, for a handful of moments.
"Okay?"
Sean nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet, and took a moment to get himself back under control. He wasn't ready to examine his reaction to the loss of the collar yet. "Sore," he finally said, with a quick grin, "but I'll live. Fucking intense, though."
"That it was," Harry agreed, with his own smile.
"What the hell did you use on me, anyway?" Now that he could ask, he was more than a little curious.
"One of my old belts." Harry traced one of the marks on Sean's back with gentle fingers. "Seemed like it would do the job."
"It did, believe me." Sean twisted around to straddle Harry's thighs as Harry chuckled.
"You did say you wanted marks."
"I did." Thinking back over what had happened, Sean ran his palms along Harry's biceps. "Hell of a swing you've got," he said, playing on a hunch. "You swing as hard as you could?"
"You know I didn't."
"Why not?"
"There wasn't a need." Harry settled his hands on Sean's hips, looked him in the eyes. "I wanted to mark you, not maim you."
"I'm a vampire. I'll heal." When Harry opened his mouth to reply, Sean covered it with his fingers. "Would it be easier for you if we used a safe word?"
"I don't know," Harry answered. It seemed like the words were being dragged out of him.
Sean frowned. On some level, he'd always known that Harry had this core of control that he never shed, no matter how provoked. He'd been witness to Harry and Karl trying to tear each other limb from limb, then try to fuck each other into the ground, and he'd sensed that both of them, even with each other, held back just a little bit. He'd always put it down to their strange, inexplicable bond and that they could test the other's limits without fear, but maybe for Harry it was something more.
"You don't have to be afraid you'll hurt me, you know," he finally said. "I trust you with this. I trust you enough to place myself completely at your mercy."
"I know," Harry replied, as he rubbed soothing circles along Sean's back. "You trust me enough to give yourself over completely to me. I won't dishonor that by losing myself."
"Do you trust me?"
"With my life. You know that."
"Then trust me to know when to stop you."
Harry shook his head slowly. He looked so troubled that Sean had to repress the urge to tell him to forget the conversation. "I..."
Once again, Sean shut him up, this time with a light kiss. "I'm not asking for miracles. I'm just asking you to try. The collar works both ways. I'm trusting you to own me when it's on. So own me."
Harry's lips flickered into a small smile. "I generally take good care of things in my possession."
Sean chuckled, and gave Harry another kiss. "Oh, I felt very taken care of."
"Not that it was in any doubt."
"It's a wonder Karl's put up with you as long as he has," Sean said, fighting back laughter. "Your arrogance grows every year."
Harry snorted as he wrapped an arm around Sean's hips to drag him closer. "You say that like it's a bad thing," he said, then moved just a fraction. It was enough to slide his half-hard cock along Sean's. "How do you feel now?"
Sean rocked against him, certain his own smile was just as arrogant as Harry's. "Well enough to take you on," he said, fangs flashing as he leaned in lick a long stripe along Harry's jaw.
Harry's only response was a low moan of approval.
(To Be Continued)