A Very Bad Idea
A Very Bad Idea
By: Emerald Embers
Rated: NC-17 for yaoi
Pairing: Kroenen/Abe Sapien
Fandom: Hellboy
Disclaimer: Non-profit fanfiction; m'seurs Del Toro and Mignola, I am sorry.
Notes: Totally, utterly and completely inspired by abe_kroenen. And, you know, the fact I'd been crushing on Abe since the movie came out but clueless as to who I could write him with.
Dedicated: To abe_kroenen for inspiring this daft thing in the first place, giving Kroenen a voice, and making me bloody curious about the mechanics of their relationship in the first place XD. Also a special call out to ilovedoyle in celebration of omgwtf we have a fandom I am actually capable of writing for in common.
Abe caught himself wondering as he stretched out on the bed, careful not to crush his fins too painfully, whether there was anything remotely close to sanity left in him. Here he was, voluntarily in the bed of Hitler's best assassin, and he wasn't frightened. Without armour on Kroenen's silhouette was human in ways his could never be, a reminder the nazi had once been the typical homo sapiens - physically, at least. And now those leather-clad legs straddled his own and the shadowy figure above him wasn't threatening, the mask's features seeming less than impassive, and the gloved fingers explored his face with a devastating gentleness he hadn't thought anyone could be capable of with an 'icthiyo sapiens'. Was it scientific curiosity? Kroenen was a murderer - was he trying to learn the physiology of a living example of Abe's species in case he had to kill one? "Open your mouth."
Abe gripped the bedsheets tight, doing as asked and trying not to bite down instinctively when two of the nazi's fingers slid between his lips, exploring his mouth briefly before switching to massaging his tongue, and it was after a moment's thought a quick jolt of surprise shot through him with the realisation Kroenen was using the fingers to 'kiss' him, after a bizarre fashion. How was he supposed to react to something like that?
Kroenen seemed to study him for a moment longer before pulling his fingers from Abe's mouth with what seemed awfully like reluctance. "Vait here." The order was simple enough but Abe couldn't resist worrying when Kroenen climbed off the bed, at least until the nazi pulled out a shelf from his chest of drawers to reveal the most meticulously organised collection of lubricants ever conceived. Was that alphabetical order? "I am sinking vater-based vould be best, ya?" Oh god, monotone or not, there was humour in his voice. Abe flushed lavender but valiantly avoided burying his head in his hands and nodded in agreement, scooted over a little in the bed when Kroenen sat down next to him and placed the tube of gel on the bedside table. "Are you going to take off your shorts?"
"Hm?" Abe followed Kroenen's eye... goggle line, blushed more before lifting his hips off the bed and peeling off his shorts, throwing them aside and folding his hands between his legs, nervous beyond anything he would have expected at the idea of being nude for something other than a medical examination. Gloved hands brushed across his chest and there was no trace of mockery now as Kroenen stroked his scars.
"These cleaned up vell. Samael hurt you badly, as I recall."
"Good surgeons," Abe said quietly, breathing out sharply when Kroenen's hands took his own and pinned them back against the bed, exposing him. "I - I've had worse."
"I am sinking zat is a lie," Kroenen replied, before sitting back on his haunches and taking the lubricant from the bedside table. "Turn over."
Kroenen apparently wasn't the hesitant type as Abe soon discovered, slick gloved fingers spreading him as soon as he moved to lie on his front but so carefully, as though there were scales there that could flake off. "I sink... I sink you should relax," Said the nazi, voice still monotone but concern showing in his words and movements, and Abe tried to obey as best as possible given he'd had to bite his hand to stop cringing at the wholly alien sensation of being explored where he'd never touched himself, pushed apart and onto insistant fingers drenched in lubricant. "Let me know when you are ready."
"Can we just try?" Abe asked, tired of his nerves and of just not knowing, and Kroenen picked him up to sit on his lap, sliding a hand between them to unzip his trousers, and in between thinking oh god oh god what am I doing Abe nearly laughed at his relief on finding the hardness no longer concealed in Kroenen's pants was flesh or one hell of a good approximation rather than another clockwork substitute.
"If you are certain."
Abe nodded his consent before digging his nails into Kroenen's thighs as the nazi thrust up and into him. A moment of stillness passed before either moved and for his part, Abe knew it was partially due to the sheer fact that this was now sex - messy, complicated, no going back sex. Intercourse, the more analytical part of his mind offered, and then Kroenen moved, pulling out a little before sliding back in, and Abe was suddenly over-aware of how slick Kroenen's thighs felt, suspicions confirmed when he rubbed his fingers together and felt a light smear of gel. "You... lubed your clothes?"
"I vas sinking, you are sticky und I am dry, und if we stuck together it could be quite unpleasant."
"Oh," Abe replied, a little breathless, listening to Kroenen wind himself and blushing bright lavender again at the implication of upcoming exertion until Kroenen slipped ungloved fingers between his lips. Courteous to have discarded the glove given where the fingers had previously been Abe later realised, but at the time he was more preoccupied with thoughts of oh, no fingernails, and that this was the first time he'd seen and tasted Kroenen's real skin all night. He'd expected to taste salt - probably thinking of sweat or dust - but it was just neutral and hard to describe. The fact the fingers weren't dry would have seemed strange if it wasn't for the flasks of water on the bedside table, and Abe caught himself wondering how long and how carefully Kroenen had planned all this until one of the flasks was taken and poured across his neck, making his gills flare eagerly for the welcomed source of oxygen. Were it not for his lips being occupied he would have said something or turned to look, but then Kroenen was moving inside him and oh, oh god, strangely dry muscle moved along his gills and he realised it was Kroenen's tongue.
"You're very still mein fischboy," Kroenen said, breath tingling Abe's gills, and what could he do then but whimper in response and move with him, carefully, carefully, working together to find a rhythm that didn't just morbidly match the clockwork ticking. Kroenen's free hand, still lubed, still gloved because it wasn't run by flesh and bone, took hold of Abe's neglected erection and explored this too, and that was it, Abe had to cry out at that, slick leather stroking every inch of him there, even the inch or so that was so sensitive it hurt under pressure. He lost their rhythm for a moment in response, bucking into Kroenen's hand before slamming back against the slickened legs, and the nazi's dry tongue moved away from his gills to say with level-voiced concern, "Don't hurt yourself." Abe pulled the ungloved hand from his mouth and lowered it to his thigh before moving onto hands and knees, wanting the extra freedom of movement, and his eyes opened wide when Kroenen hooked one leg around his thighs, locking the two of them together.
"How did you -"
"Gymnastics," Kroenen interrupted with something like pride, and in between moving with what he knew had to be the last thrusts Abe was suddenly hit by a flurry of images, each wilder and more likely to be illegal in half the world than the last about what exactly they could accomplish with their combined flexibility, and it was in the middle of this that he realised he hadn't sensed any images from Kroenen at all despite being in contact with him for so long.
"Are those clothes new?"
"Ja."
Abe blushed again at the attention to detail, decided against wondering what would have happened if that hadn't been the case and turned quite slowly to look at Kroenen, giving him time to readjust his mask. "Thank you."
The nazi broke their rhythm this time, keeping their balance carefully as he brushed the now dry, naked fingertips of his gloveless hand across Abe's right cheek and began to thrust slower and harder. "You're very beautiful tonight, Abe."
Abe smiled and freed a leg from behind Kroenen's so he could manoeuvre into a half-sitting, half-kneeling position and let the thrusts move deeper inside him, hooked one of his arms around the black-clad man's neck to pull him into one of their kisses. Lips and flesh be damned, he knew that as ridiculous as it might seem to press his lips against and run his tongue over the metal and plastic surface, Kroenen's mask was far more a part of his lover than the face beneath it. "You can call me fishboy."
"Fischboy," Kroenen repeated, voice hissing a little more than usual, and then he was moving faster again, gloved hand stroking Abe quicker.
Whatever part of Abe hadn't been worn dumb by the pace they had set spoke up with the odd observation that Kroenen didn't tick faster with the end exertion, but even his logic could only last so long with all that attention, with Kroenen studying him, learning him, and he knew the lidless eyes behind the mask were staring. He couldn't reign in his thoughts any longer, let his mind go blank as he tightened his hold on Kroenen's neck and licked the smooth surface of the goggles, pushing himself hard into Kroenen's lap and coming at last, whole body twitching as he spilt into the gloved hand.
"You're -" Kroenen didn't finish the sentence, letting his gloved hand slip to Abe's thigh and holding tight with his other hand as he pushed once, twice into Abe's relaxed body before there was a change in his ticking, winding down slowly, and he pulled back, slumping to a sitting position and draping his arms around Abe's waist.
It took a few moments before Abe realised Kroenen's clockwork had quite literally run down and had to wind it up himself, asking on Kroenen's return to consciousness, "Did you...?"
"Ja, ja." A moment's pause as he wiped his hands against the bed. "You're varm."
"Sapiens. I'm warm-blooded," Abe explained, blinking when Kroenen climbed off the bed and pulled him into following. "Why are you -"
The answer to that became pretty clear when Kroenen pulled the blanket and sheets off the bed, revealing a second layer of bedding that had been protected by a plastic sheet. "You really thought of everything."
"It vas vorth sinking about," Kroenen replied before tackling Abe back onto the bed. "There are zwei other sets to go through."
"Oh? Oh. I - ah..." Abe flushed as Kroenen's hands took an interesting travelling route during their kiss. "Can you - mmph - give me a few minutes?"
"Five minuten, ja."
"... maybe thirty?"
Kroenen made a sound suspiciously like a huff before climbing off to lie at Abe's side. "Vinding me up for nothing. You are a tease, fischboy."
"How was I to know you had no... no recovery!" Abe huffed back, snuggling against Kroenen's chest regardless of the frustration and trailing a hand down the smooth leather covering the nazi's sides. "I forget you're not really human anymore."
Kroenen seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding and returning the affection by stroking his clean hand down Abe's cheek. "Danke."
"So..." Abe couldn't quite resist being curious. "If I didn't wind you up, it'd be like you were sleeping?"
"Not really, vhy?"
"Nothing, nothing..." Feeling his face was going to betray every last thought he was having whether he wanted it to or not, Abe turned over to bury his face in the pillows, tried not to jump when he felt cold metal against the back of his neck and relaxed when he realised it was the lower part of Kroenen's mask.
The logical part of his mind had long since departed, muttering about illicit liaisons with a nazi assassin, and he doubted it would have been much impressed with the fact said nazi assassin was now snuggling up against him, but Abe couldn't quite find the will to miss it.
Dry fingertips stroked the sensitive skin just beneath his gills and Abe waited for the inevitable. "How about now?"
"Twenty minutes, please?" Abe sighed, wanting sleep that his impatient lover wasn't exactly prepared to grant.
"Hmm. I'll go get ze chocolate melting zen."
... and suddenly that lack of sleep didn't sound quite so terrible after all.
The End
By: Emerald Embers
Rated: NC-17 for yaoi
Pairing: Kroenen/Abe Sapien
Fandom: Hellboy
Disclaimer: Non-profit fanfiction; m'seurs Del Toro and Mignola, I am sorry.
Notes: Totally, utterly and completely inspired by abe_kroenen. And, you know, the fact I'd been crushing on Abe since the movie came out but clueless as to who I could write him with.
Dedicated: To abe_kroenen for inspiring this daft thing in the first place, giving Kroenen a voice, and making me bloody curious about the mechanics of their relationship in the first place XD. Also a special call out to ilovedoyle in celebration of omgwtf we have a fandom I am actually capable of writing for in common.
Abe caught himself wondering as he stretched out on the bed, careful not to crush his fins too painfully, whether there was anything remotely close to sanity left in him. Here he was, voluntarily in the bed of Hitler's best assassin, and he wasn't frightened. Without armour on Kroenen's silhouette was human in ways his could never be, a reminder the nazi had once been the typical homo sapiens - physically, at least. And now those leather-clad legs straddled his own and the shadowy figure above him wasn't threatening, the mask's features seeming less than impassive, and the gloved fingers explored his face with a devastating gentleness he hadn't thought anyone could be capable of with an 'icthiyo sapiens'. Was it scientific curiosity? Kroenen was a murderer - was he trying to learn the physiology of a living example of Abe's species in case he had to kill one? "Open your mouth."
Abe gripped the bedsheets tight, doing as asked and trying not to bite down instinctively when two of the nazi's fingers slid between his lips, exploring his mouth briefly before switching to massaging his tongue, and it was after a moment's thought a quick jolt of surprise shot through him with the realisation Kroenen was using the fingers to 'kiss' him, after a bizarre fashion. How was he supposed to react to something like that?
Kroenen seemed to study him for a moment longer before pulling his fingers from Abe's mouth with what seemed awfully like reluctance. "Vait here." The order was simple enough but Abe couldn't resist worrying when Kroenen climbed off the bed, at least until the nazi pulled out a shelf from his chest of drawers to reveal the most meticulously organised collection of lubricants ever conceived. Was that alphabetical order? "I am sinking vater-based vould be best, ya?" Oh god, monotone or not, there was humour in his voice. Abe flushed lavender but valiantly avoided burying his head in his hands and nodded in agreement, scooted over a little in the bed when Kroenen sat down next to him and placed the tube of gel on the bedside table. "Are you going to take off your shorts?"
"Hm?" Abe followed Kroenen's eye... goggle line, blushed more before lifting his hips off the bed and peeling off his shorts, throwing them aside and folding his hands between his legs, nervous beyond anything he would have expected at the idea of being nude for something other than a medical examination. Gloved hands brushed across his chest and there was no trace of mockery now as Kroenen stroked his scars.
"These cleaned up vell. Samael hurt you badly, as I recall."
"Good surgeons," Abe said quietly, breathing out sharply when Kroenen's hands took his own and pinned them back against the bed, exposing him. "I - I've had worse."
"I am sinking zat is a lie," Kroenen replied, before sitting back on his haunches and taking the lubricant from the bedside table. "Turn over."
Kroenen apparently wasn't the hesitant type as Abe soon discovered, slick gloved fingers spreading him as soon as he moved to lie on his front but so carefully, as though there were scales there that could flake off. "I sink... I sink you should relax," Said the nazi, voice still monotone but concern showing in his words and movements, and Abe tried to obey as best as possible given he'd had to bite his hand to stop cringing at the wholly alien sensation of being explored where he'd never touched himself, pushed apart and onto insistant fingers drenched in lubricant. "Let me know when you are ready."
"Can we just try?" Abe asked, tired of his nerves and of just not knowing, and Kroenen picked him up to sit on his lap, sliding a hand between them to unzip his trousers, and in between thinking oh god oh god what am I doing Abe nearly laughed at his relief on finding the hardness no longer concealed in Kroenen's pants was flesh or one hell of a good approximation rather than another clockwork substitute.
"If you are certain."
Abe nodded his consent before digging his nails into Kroenen's thighs as the nazi thrust up and into him. A moment of stillness passed before either moved and for his part, Abe knew it was partially due to the sheer fact that this was now sex - messy, complicated, no going back sex. Intercourse, the more analytical part of his mind offered, and then Kroenen moved, pulling out a little before sliding back in, and Abe was suddenly over-aware of how slick Kroenen's thighs felt, suspicions confirmed when he rubbed his fingers together and felt a light smear of gel. "You... lubed your clothes?"
"I vas sinking, you are sticky und I am dry, und if we stuck together it could be quite unpleasant."
"Oh," Abe replied, a little breathless, listening to Kroenen wind himself and blushing bright lavender again at the implication of upcoming exertion until Kroenen slipped ungloved fingers between his lips. Courteous to have discarded the glove given where the fingers had previously been Abe later realised, but at the time he was more preoccupied with thoughts of oh, no fingernails, and that this was the first time he'd seen and tasted Kroenen's real skin all night. He'd expected to taste salt - probably thinking of sweat or dust - but it was just neutral and hard to describe. The fact the fingers weren't dry would have seemed strange if it wasn't for the flasks of water on the bedside table, and Abe caught himself wondering how long and how carefully Kroenen had planned all this until one of the flasks was taken and poured across his neck, making his gills flare eagerly for the welcomed source of oxygen. Were it not for his lips being occupied he would have said something or turned to look, but then Kroenen was moving inside him and oh, oh god, strangely dry muscle moved along his gills and he realised it was Kroenen's tongue.
"You're very still mein fischboy," Kroenen said, breath tingling Abe's gills, and what could he do then but whimper in response and move with him, carefully, carefully, working together to find a rhythm that didn't just morbidly match the clockwork ticking. Kroenen's free hand, still lubed, still gloved because it wasn't run by flesh and bone, took hold of Abe's neglected erection and explored this too, and that was it, Abe had to cry out at that, slick leather stroking every inch of him there, even the inch or so that was so sensitive it hurt under pressure. He lost their rhythm for a moment in response, bucking into Kroenen's hand before slamming back against the slickened legs, and the nazi's dry tongue moved away from his gills to say with level-voiced concern, "Don't hurt yourself." Abe pulled the ungloved hand from his mouth and lowered it to his thigh before moving onto hands and knees, wanting the extra freedom of movement, and his eyes opened wide when Kroenen hooked one leg around his thighs, locking the two of them together.
"How did you -"
"Gymnastics," Kroenen interrupted with something like pride, and in between moving with what he knew had to be the last thrusts Abe was suddenly hit by a flurry of images, each wilder and more likely to be illegal in half the world than the last about what exactly they could accomplish with their combined flexibility, and it was in the middle of this that he realised he hadn't sensed any images from Kroenen at all despite being in contact with him for so long.
"Are those clothes new?"
"Ja."
Abe blushed again at the attention to detail, decided against wondering what would have happened if that hadn't been the case and turned quite slowly to look at Kroenen, giving him time to readjust his mask. "Thank you."
The nazi broke their rhythm this time, keeping their balance carefully as he brushed the now dry, naked fingertips of his gloveless hand across Abe's right cheek and began to thrust slower and harder. "You're very beautiful tonight, Abe."
Abe smiled and freed a leg from behind Kroenen's so he could manoeuvre into a half-sitting, half-kneeling position and let the thrusts move deeper inside him, hooked one of his arms around the black-clad man's neck to pull him into one of their kisses. Lips and flesh be damned, he knew that as ridiculous as it might seem to press his lips against and run his tongue over the metal and plastic surface, Kroenen's mask was far more a part of his lover than the face beneath it. "You can call me fishboy."
"Fischboy," Kroenen repeated, voice hissing a little more than usual, and then he was moving faster again, gloved hand stroking Abe quicker.
Whatever part of Abe hadn't been worn dumb by the pace they had set spoke up with the odd observation that Kroenen didn't tick faster with the end exertion, but even his logic could only last so long with all that attention, with Kroenen studying him, learning him, and he knew the lidless eyes behind the mask were staring. He couldn't reign in his thoughts any longer, let his mind go blank as he tightened his hold on Kroenen's neck and licked the smooth surface of the goggles, pushing himself hard into Kroenen's lap and coming at last, whole body twitching as he spilt into the gloved hand.
"You're -" Kroenen didn't finish the sentence, letting his gloved hand slip to Abe's thigh and holding tight with his other hand as he pushed once, twice into Abe's relaxed body before there was a change in his ticking, winding down slowly, and he pulled back, slumping to a sitting position and draping his arms around Abe's waist.
It took a few moments before Abe realised Kroenen's clockwork had quite literally run down and had to wind it up himself, asking on Kroenen's return to consciousness, "Did you...?"
"Ja, ja." A moment's pause as he wiped his hands against the bed. "You're varm."
"Sapiens. I'm warm-blooded," Abe explained, blinking when Kroenen climbed off the bed and pulled him into following. "Why are you -"
The answer to that became pretty clear when Kroenen pulled the blanket and sheets off the bed, revealing a second layer of bedding that had been protected by a plastic sheet. "You really thought of everything."
"It vas vorth sinking about," Kroenen replied before tackling Abe back onto the bed. "There are zwei other sets to go through."
"Oh? Oh. I - ah..." Abe flushed as Kroenen's hands took an interesting travelling route during their kiss. "Can you - mmph - give me a few minutes?"
"Five minuten, ja."
"... maybe thirty?"
Kroenen made a sound suspiciously like a huff before climbing off to lie at Abe's side. "Vinding me up for nothing. You are a tease, fischboy."
"How was I to know you had no... no recovery!" Abe huffed back, snuggling against Kroenen's chest regardless of the frustration and trailing a hand down the smooth leather covering the nazi's sides. "I forget you're not really human anymore."
Kroenen seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding and returning the affection by stroking his clean hand down Abe's cheek. "Danke."
"So..." Abe couldn't quite resist being curious. "If I didn't wind you up, it'd be like you were sleeping?"
"Not really, vhy?"
"Nothing, nothing..." Feeling his face was going to betray every last thought he was having whether he wanted it to or not, Abe turned over to bury his face in the pillows, tried not to jump when he felt cold metal against the back of his neck and relaxed when he realised it was the lower part of Kroenen's mask.
The logical part of his mind had long since departed, muttering about illicit liaisons with a nazi assassin, and he doubted it would have been much impressed with the fact said nazi assassin was now snuggling up against him, but Abe couldn't quite find the will to miss it.
Dry fingertips stroked the sensitive skin just beneath his gills and Abe waited for the inevitable. "How about now?"
"Twenty minutes, please?" Abe sighed, wanting sleep that his impatient lover wasn't exactly prepared to grant.
"Hmm. I'll go get ze chocolate melting zen."
... and suddenly that lack of sleep didn't sound quite so terrible after all.
The End