Fic: Puzzling Evidence (Part II), NC-17, Lorne/Zelenka by inkscribe
Title: Puzzling Evidence (Part II)
Author: inkscribe
Pairings: Lorne/Zelenka
Kink: mild D/s, bondage, spanking
Warnings:Angst ahoy! Bad things start to happen. However, this part contains some reasonably tasty smut, so it’s not all terrible - yet.
Rating: NC-17
Words: ~2700 (this part)
Spoilers: S3.15 - “Tao of Rodney”
Locations: atlantiskink community, my LJ
Feedback: yes, please!
Summary: What we see is not always what it seems.
Chapter Summary: Action.
New to this WIP? Check out the Puzzling Evidence chapter index! Please remember to read the header block of each chapter for related spoiler alerts, warnings, and notes.
ETA: This chapter now revised with tooltip translations. [end ETA]
Author's Notes: It appears my leap into LJ-land was more-or-less successful as I see that people (other than me) have managed to read and reply! Wow! Thank you all. :-) I shall leap into the comment-o-sphere shortly to give proper thanks and replies.
As before, non-beta’d, so any errors are most definitely mine. One Czech phrase may be incorrect so my apologies in advance to anyone who actually reads or speaks Czech. I’m working a bit by guess-and-by-golly here - if interested, please see glossary at the end of this part for the notation.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is not mine; please don’t sue, we’ll both regret it in the morning.
Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard was reasonably certain no one else had caught the dark worry that crumpled Rodney’s face after he was saved from ascension-machine-induced death. Everyone had been delighted that McKay made it through, that he’d managed to defy the odds and find a way around an apparently unsolvable obstacle: his own death.
John was proud of Rodney: he had faced the entire ordeal with bravery and had revealed a core of compassion that few outside of his immediate staff and mission team had ever seen, and even for those few, they saw new depths of Rodney that most had never before suspected.
Truth be told, John was still a little jealous that the man had the opportunity to experience life as a superhuman, complete with superhero-type powers. If John had as strong a death wish as many liked to attribute to him, he would have already submitted to the machine’s treatment whether he had Elizabeth’s permission or not; but when it came down to it, the lure of possible superpowers versus a strong chance of certain death as a puddle of goo wasn’t a sufficiently strong argument in favour of John actually risking the procedure.
John had returned to his office as soon as reasonably possible to await Rodney’s visit. He was confident Rodney would prefer to meet there - the labs were too public and their respective quarters too intimate. John had seen Rodney’s face, and he knew that Rodney had renewed worries for Radek, worries that went beyond the two scientists’ working relationship, worries that might even go beyond friendship.
No more than two hours after John arrived to begin his wait, Rodney was at his door, still bubbling with happiness at making it past the Ancient-imposed expiry date at the midnight hour, so to speak. The bubbling lasted only long enough for Rodney to enter and John to think the door closed; now away from prying eyes, Rodney slumped into the chair across from John, the very picture of sadness and worry.
“What happened, Rodney?” John prompted, careful and quiet, worried that Rodney’s mien boded something far worse than he could guess.
“Remember -” Rodney began, then stopped for a moment, searching his memories. John figured that the layers of intensive thought the scientist had experienced in the last few days were probably crammed into Rodney’s mind like so much oxygen in a cannister. “Remember when Radek was dying? The electrical burns?”
John nodded.
“When I healed him,” Rodney said. “When I laid hands on him, I could feel the injury, the pain, all the way to the cellular level. It was - it was - amazing.” The wonder on Rodney’s face spoke volumes, but in moments, the darkness came again, and Rodney slumped anew, sadness catching his throat.
“But I felt something else then, too. Something scary,” he said.
“Oh?” John prompted, an eyebrow raised. John had assumed that whatever had Rodney worried had happened during the genetic re-set in what everyone believed were Rodney’s final moments. He found it hard to believe that Rodney would have kept something that made him this worried secret for even longer, secret from when Radek had been dying.
Rodney paused, looked at John, and scared John all over again as he practically read John’s mind and disputed John’s very thoughts.
“No no no, I don’t have any vestigal ‘powers’ left,” he snorted. “What you’re thinking is as clear as day on your face.”
John frowned at that, annoyed at himself for being possibly too open with his friend and colleague.
“Frankly, at the time I was so freaked out by all my new ‘powers’ that I really hadn’t given much thought about what I was feeling when I laid hands on Radek,” Rodney explained. “But once the genetic re-set put me back to normal, once all the - the overwhelming cacophony from everyone else’s minds pressing in on me was absent, I had remembered those moments with Radek.”
“OK,” John said. “That makes sense. Go on.”
“Yes, well, good.” Rodney said. “Just after I woke up among the living, as it were, I suddenly remembered that when I laid hands on Radek, something felt wrong.”
“Well -” John began.
“Don’t interrupt,” said Rodney. “I know something was wrong and he was already dying from the burns and the shock to his system. That particular wrongness was obvious from the moment I touched him. It’s all I noticed at the time, or so I thought. No, this wrongness had nothing to do with the injury. Did you know I healed Ronon’s implant scars?”
The sudden change of subject threw John off balance for a moment, and he asked, “What?”
“Ronon,” Rodney continued. “He had these scars on his back, from the implants the Wraith gave him. When he was a Runner.”
John stared, almost open-mouthed. “Rodney,” he drawled. “What does Ronon have to do with Radek?”
“Oh, yes - right. Well,” Rodney began again. “Like I said, when I healed Radek’s burns I could feel him on a cellular level. He had some scars, too, in another spot. I healed those ones at the same time that I healed his burns and restarted his heart.”
Rodney choked slightly. “But I couldn’t heal everything. There is something wrong deep inside Radek. I could feel it, but I knew I couldn’t fix it. I fixed everything else, but I couldn’t fix that.”
Rodney’s voice had trailed off into a high-pitched whisper, the type of whisper he used whenever the reality of imminent doom was far closer than anyone could possibly want to face. John sat silently, waiting him out.
Rodney continued after a pause, his voice still tight with strain and worry. “Those scars,” he whispered. “The other ones I healed, the ones that weren’t part of the burn. They have something to do with the wrongness I couldn’t fix. John, what’s going to happen to Radek?”
John kept his voice steady for Rodney’s sake. He still didn’t have a clear picture of what was going on, but it was obvious that Rodney was shook to his core. “Where were these other scars, Rodney? What were you able to heal?”
“He had scars on his wrists, John! Oh, god,” Rodney whimpered. “I think Radek’s tried to commit suicide since we’ve been stationed here. I’m his supervisor - hell, I’m his friend! - and I never once noticed that anything was wrong. I’m supposed to be the smartest man in two galaxies, and I didn’t notice a damn thing.”
“Calm down, McKay,” John said, a little snappish but he was on autopilot at the moment and he wanted to keep Rodney on-track. He thought back over the three years he’d known the Czech scientist, seeking behavioural signs that the man might be so unstable as to try to take his life. It just didn’t make sense. John had been there before, he’d missed the signs in other times, with other men. Try as he might, in the many interactions he’d had with Radek, he hadn’t had any sense that something was wrong with him. If anything, the opposite was true. Radek Zelenka was one of the more pragmatic people John had ever worked with, and while he had a wicked sense of humour, he usually seemed ... content ... with his role at Atlantis.
A sudden thought caused John to furrow his brow. “Lorne,” he mused. “Rodney, did you get any sense as to when these scars came from? Could they have something to do with that scene we witnessed between Radek and Major Lorne at the bear attack?”
Rodney’s eyes flashed from side to side as he reviewed his memories. “I - I -,” he said, lost in thought. “I’m not sure,” he conceded. Possibly. Or they may have been from before that day. Definitely sometime in the last couple of years. The scars, I mean. I think that the wrongness I felt is something deeper though, something older, even older than when we worked on Antarctica together. The scars though, they were relatively new.”
“After the last time we tried to talk to them, I don’t think either Major Lorne or Doctor Zelenka will speak to us willingly. And I don’t think they’re going to see Heightmeyer, either, even if I do make it an order for Major Lorne,” John said.
“So what do you propose?” Rodney said. “Take them to a dark room someplace and interrogate them?”
John nodded, his expression mirthless. “Something like that.”
oOo
In the privacy of Radek’s quarters, Radek was hours into a slow build of unresolved tension that would break if and only if Marc decided it would.
They had begun as always, a ritual comforting to Radek in its unwavering simplicity: Radek arrived first, stripped, and knelt upright on one knee, awaiting Marc. Marc arrived an indeterminate time later, circled Radek anywhere from one to several times as he inspected the man kneeling submissive before him, then clicked his fingers to bring Radek standing to attention before him. The ritual then to improvisation, to the needs or desires of the day: a kiss, perhaps. A touch. A grope, caress, even a tickle. Something gentle, soft and inviting; something hard and fast and sometimes even against the nearest wall.
Radek trembled before Marc, his body tight as he awaited Marc’s choice.
Tonight, after Radek stood tall and straight, Marc had stripped quickly, then walked behind Radek. He felt the soldier’s hard body press up behind him, a rigid erection tight-pressed against Radek’s back. He felt the slide of his calloused hands, moving from his back to his flanks to his stomach, caressing, stroking, petting.
“Oh, Love,” Marc sighed. “I love you so much.”
Radek snuggled back into the embrace, a wide smile spread across his face. “And you, miláčku. Miluju tě.”
Marc began to explore Radek’s neck and Radek found himself shuddering already in his lover’s arms. Radek turned his head to capture Marc’s mouth, his tongue seeking and gaining entrance.
“Mmmm,” Marc hummed, appreciatively. “Pushy tonight, aren’t you?”
Radek was pleased that these words no longer made shadow fears loom large in his mind. “Mmmm, sometimes, miláčku,” he agreed. “But I think not tonight.”
Marc nuzzled him again, his tongue tracing a warm, wet line along the tendon’s of Radek’s neck. “You deserve something special, I think,” Marc said. “You were wonderful this week.”
Radek smiled wider than ever. “I bet you say that to every lover brought back from certain death by the unearthly powers of their immediate supervisors,” he joked.
“Well, possibly,” Marc teased. “I am definitely, most definitely, pleased you are firmly. among. the. living.” He punctuated each word with a kiss. “But I was actually referring to how much work you put into saving McKay’s ass, even when he didn’t seem like he wanted you to.”
“Ah,” said Radek. “I see. Well, thank you.”
“I wonder if he has any idea just how good a friend you are to him,” Marc mused.
Radek chuckled softly. “Yes, he does.” Marc paused his ministrations for a moment.
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” Radek affirmed. “Even before he spoke to me this week of his deep love of my brilliance and emotional superiority demonstrated by my ability to tolerate him for years longer than any other human in existence in two galaxies, I knew he valued my friendship.”
Marc chuckled and swatted Radek lightly on his ass. “You’re being naughty, Love.”
“Mmmmm,” Radek agreed.
“Would you like that?” Marc asked, his voice throaty. “Would you like a spanking tonight?”
Radek was confident Marc could not miss the shudder of anticipation that rippled through his body.
Marc’s hands resumed their caresses across the front of Radek’s torso. “Would you prefer my hand? The strap? The flogger?” Marc whispered, soft kisses pressed to Radek’s shoulders between each question.
Radek thought for a few moments before choosing. “I think tonight, prosím, your hand,” Radek breathed, desire dripping from his words. “I’ve been so busy this week. I’ve missed you. I’ve missed your touch.”
Marc hugged Radek fiercely and hummed with pleasure. “I’ve missed you, too,” he said. “Then my hand it is, Love.”
Radek twisted in his embrace until they stood face to face, cock to cock, the heat between them strong. They kissed. They stroked. They touched.
Marc hissed, and Radek dropped to position. Radek felt his fingers in his hair, heard Marc’s praise. He waited while Marc retrieved his bindings from the closet. A clap: Radek nipped smartly to the bed and assumed position for binding. Tonight, there would be spanking, so Marc would probably leave his feet free to make it easier for Radek or Marc to reposition as needed. Radek’s hands, though, his hands would be bound, possibly together, possibly to the bed. Radek felt his cock jump in anticipation.
Radek enjoyed the drawn out manner Marc used to bind him; nothing was quick unless they were in the mood for something both intense and frisky. They weren’t brash young men who could sustain themselves on brief moments of intimacy: when Radek and Marc made love, it was a masterpiece of emotional, psychological, and physical action that left them both sated and absolutely certain of their love and devotion for one another.
Radek felt himself firmly attached to the bed, felt himself relax physically into the restrictions placed on his body. He felt his mind begin to uncoil - no matter how much loving foreplay, how many caresses or kisses or even blowjobs, this was for him the non-negotiable moment. He needed to be secured, to be made secure. Marc did both for him, beautifully.
As Marc began to take the tension from Radek’s body by clever patterns of soft touch and hard slaps on his ass, Radek found his mind slipping free and remembering again the first time they made love, the first time Marc fucked him into the mattress because Radek asked him to and Marc wanted him to ask. The memory alone could warm Radek like nothing else, and when combined with the real and immediate sensation of Marc’s movements and actions on his body in the here-and-now, Radek would smile and feel as though their time together was a nearly uninterrupted flow of loving exploration and joy.
Radek moaned, then cried out, as Marc’s slaps became harder, taking the tension up higher and higher. Soon, Radek would be senseless to cogent thought. He would be flying free in the ecstasy Marc built for him, his own submission to his needs and Marc’s demands bringing them both to the peak and down, again and again, until they could continue no more and would shudder to insensate sleep, warm bodies entwined the night through.
Radek hummed in pleasure, murmuring his happiness. “ Miláčku,” he groaned. “Harder, prosím. Harder. I want to see your marks tomorrow.”
He heard Marc chuckle. “As you wish, Love.”
Radek winced as the blows increased in strength. “ Ano,” he breathed. “ Ano.”
Radek lost himself again in the sensation. Stinging, burning, warm pleasure - it all wrapped him in a haze of sensory joy. He could feel his body unwind, the tension buried deep inside snap, line by line, readying his body for the release Marc would soon deliver.
“Oh god,” Radek heard, and horror sliced through the haze of pleasure in his mind as he realised it was not Marc’s voice he heard, that it was not an utterance of joy or pleasure, but an utterance of anger, perhaps disgust.
Not Marc? Who? Rodney!
Radek fought the fear rising fast within him, the fear that threatened to overwhelm his senses. He felt the rush of air on his back as Marc was suddenly gone, heard the scuffle, heard Marc’s grunts as fists met flesh, heard angry voices shouting, Marc’s own lost among them. It was too much: Radek screamed a scream of primal fear and passed mercifully into insensate oblivion.
End Part II
Author: inkscribe
Pairings: Lorne/Zelenka
Kink: mild D/s, bondage, spanking
Warnings:Angst ahoy! Bad things start to happen. However, this part contains some reasonably tasty smut, so it’s not all terrible - yet.
Rating: NC-17
Words: ~2700 (this part)
Spoilers: S3.15 - “Tao of Rodney”
Locations: atlantiskink community, my LJ
Feedback: yes, please!
Summary: What we see is not always what it seems.
Chapter Summary: Action.
New to this WIP? Check out the Puzzling Evidence chapter index! Please remember to read the header block of each chapter for related spoiler alerts, warnings, and notes.
ETA: This chapter now revised with tooltip translations. [end ETA]
Author's Notes: It appears my leap into LJ-land was more-or-less successful as I see that people (other than me) have managed to read and reply! Wow! Thank you all. :-) I shall leap into the comment-o-sphere shortly to give proper thanks and replies.
As before, non-beta’d, so any errors are most definitely mine. One Czech phrase may be incorrect so my apologies in advance to anyone who actually reads or speaks Czech. I’m working a bit by guess-and-by-golly here - if interested, please see glossary at the end of this part for the notation.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is not mine; please don’t sue, we’ll both regret it in the morning.
Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard was reasonably certain no one else had caught the dark worry that crumpled Rodney’s face after he was saved from ascension-machine-induced death. Everyone had been delighted that McKay made it through, that he’d managed to defy the odds and find a way around an apparently unsolvable obstacle: his own death.
John was proud of Rodney: he had faced the entire ordeal with bravery and had revealed a core of compassion that few outside of his immediate staff and mission team had ever seen, and even for those few, they saw new depths of Rodney that most had never before suspected.
Truth be told, John was still a little jealous that the man had the opportunity to experience life as a superhuman, complete with superhero-type powers. If John had as strong a death wish as many liked to attribute to him, he would have already submitted to the machine’s treatment whether he had Elizabeth’s permission or not; but when it came down to it, the lure of possible superpowers versus a strong chance of certain death as a puddle of goo wasn’t a sufficiently strong argument in favour of John actually risking the procedure.
John had returned to his office as soon as reasonably possible to await Rodney’s visit. He was confident Rodney would prefer to meet there - the labs were too public and their respective quarters too intimate. John had seen Rodney’s face, and he knew that Rodney had renewed worries for Radek, worries that went beyond the two scientists’ working relationship, worries that might even go beyond friendship.
No more than two hours after John arrived to begin his wait, Rodney was at his door, still bubbling with happiness at making it past the Ancient-imposed expiry date at the midnight hour, so to speak. The bubbling lasted only long enough for Rodney to enter and John to think the door closed; now away from prying eyes, Rodney slumped into the chair across from John, the very picture of sadness and worry.
“What happened, Rodney?” John prompted, careful and quiet, worried that Rodney’s mien boded something far worse than he could guess.
“Remember -” Rodney began, then stopped for a moment, searching his memories. John figured that the layers of intensive thought the scientist had experienced in the last few days were probably crammed into Rodney’s mind like so much oxygen in a cannister. “Remember when Radek was dying? The electrical burns?”
John nodded.
“When I healed him,” Rodney said. “When I laid hands on him, I could feel the injury, the pain, all the way to the cellular level. It was - it was - amazing.” The wonder on Rodney’s face spoke volumes, but in moments, the darkness came again, and Rodney slumped anew, sadness catching his throat.
“But I felt something else then, too. Something scary,” he said.
“Oh?” John prompted, an eyebrow raised. John had assumed that whatever had Rodney worried had happened during the genetic re-set in what everyone believed were Rodney’s final moments. He found it hard to believe that Rodney would have kept something that made him this worried secret for even longer, secret from when Radek had been dying.
Rodney paused, looked at John, and scared John all over again as he practically read John’s mind and disputed John’s very thoughts.
“No no no, I don’t have any vestigal ‘powers’ left,” he snorted. “What you’re thinking is as clear as day on your face.”
John frowned at that, annoyed at himself for being possibly too open with his friend and colleague.
“Frankly, at the time I was so freaked out by all my new ‘powers’ that I really hadn’t given much thought about what I was feeling when I laid hands on Radek,” Rodney explained. “But once the genetic re-set put me back to normal, once all the - the overwhelming cacophony from everyone else’s minds pressing in on me was absent, I had remembered those moments with Radek.”
“OK,” John said. “That makes sense. Go on.”
“Yes, well, good.” Rodney said. “Just after I woke up among the living, as it were, I suddenly remembered that when I laid hands on Radek, something felt wrong.”
“Well -” John began.
“Don’t interrupt,” said Rodney. “I know something was wrong and he was already dying from the burns and the shock to his system. That particular wrongness was obvious from the moment I touched him. It’s all I noticed at the time, or so I thought. No, this wrongness had nothing to do with the injury. Did you know I healed Ronon’s implant scars?”
The sudden change of subject threw John off balance for a moment, and he asked, “What?”
“Ronon,” Rodney continued. “He had these scars on his back, from the implants the Wraith gave him. When he was a Runner.”
John stared, almost open-mouthed. “Rodney,” he drawled. “What does Ronon have to do with Radek?”
“Oh, yes - right. Well,” Rodney began again. “Like I said, when I healed Radek’s burns I could feel him on a cellular level. He had some scars, too, in another spot. I healed those ones at the same time that I healed his burns and restarted his heart.”
Rodney choked slightly. “But I couldn’t heal everything. There is something wrong deep inside Radek. I could feel it, but I knew I couldn’t fix it. I fixed everything else, but I couldn’t fix that.”
Rodney’s voice had trailed off into a high-pitched whisper, the type of whisper he used whenever the reality of imminent doom was far closer than anyone could possibly want to face. John sat silently, waiting him out.
Rodney continued after a pause, his voice still tight with strain and worry. “Those scars,” he whispered. “The other ones I healed, the ones that weren’t part of the burn. They have something to do with the wrongness I couldn’t fix. John, what’s going to happen to Radek?”
John kept his voice steady for Rodney’s sake. He still didn’t have a clear picture of what was going on, but it was obvious that Rodney was shook to his core. “Where were these other scars, Rodney? What were you able to heal?”
“He had scars on his wrists, John! Oh, god,” Rodney whimpered. “I think Radek’s tried to commit suicide since we’ve been stationed here. I’m his supervisor - hell, I’m his friend! - and I never once noticed that anything was wrong. I’m supposed to be the smartest man in two galaxies, and I didn’t notice a damn thing.”
“Calm down, McKay,” John said, a little snappish but he was on autopilot at the moment and he wanted to keep Rodney on-track. He thought back over the three years he’d known the Czech scientist, seeking behavioural signs that the man might be so unstable as to try to take his life. It just didn’t make sense. John had been there before, he’d missed the signs in other times, with other men. Try as he might, in the many interactions he’d had with Radek, he hadn’t had any sense that something was wrong with him. If anything, the opposite was true. Radek Zelenka was one of the more pragmatic people John had ever worked with, and while he had a wicked sense of humour, he usually seemed ... content ... with his role at Atlantis.
A sudden thought caused John to furrow his brow. “Lorne,” he mused. “Rodney, did you get any sense as to when these scars came from? Could they have something to do with that scene we witnessed between Radek and Major Lorne at the bear attack?”
Rodney’s eyes flashed from side to side as he reviewed his memories. “I - I -,” he said, lost in thought. “I’m not sure,” he conceded. Possibly. Or they may have been from before that day. Definitely sometime in the last couple of years. The scars, I mean. I think that the wrongness I felt is something deeper though, something older, even older than when we worked on Antarctica together. The scars though, they were relatively new.”
“After the last time we tried to talk to them, I don’t think either Major Lorne or Doctor Zelenka will speak to us willingly. And I don’t think they’re going to see Heightmeyer, either, even if I do make it an order for Major Lorne,” John said.
“So what do you propose?” Rodney said. “Take them to a dark room someplace and interrogate them?”
John nodded, his expression mirthless. “Something like that.”
oOo
In the privacy of Radek’s quarters, Radek was hours into a slow build of unresolved tension that would break if and only if Marc decided it would.
They had begun as always, a ritual comforting to Radek in its unwavering simplicity: Radek arrived first, stripped, and knelt upright on one knee, awaiting Marc. Marc arrived an indeterminate time later, circled Radek anywhere from one to several times as he inspected the man kneeling submissive before him, then clicked his fingers to bring Radek standing to attention before him. The ritual then to improvisation, to the needs or desires of the day: a kiss, perhaps. A touch. A grope, caress, even a tickle. Something gentle, soft and inviting; something hard and fast and sometimes even against the nearest wall.
Radek trembled before Marc, his body tight as he awaited Marc’s choice.
Tonight, after Radek stood tall and straight, Marc had stripped quickly, then walked behind Radek. He felt the soldier’s hard body press up behind him, a rigid erection tight-pressed against Radek’s back. He felt the slide of his calloused hands, moving from his back to his flanks to his stomach, caressing, stroking, petting.
“Oh, Love,” Marc sighed. “I love you so much.”
Radek snuggled back into the embrace, a wide smile spread across his face. “And you, miláčku. Miluju tě.”
Marc began to explore Radek’s neck and Radek found himself shuddering already in his lover’s arms. Radek turned his head to capture Marc’s mouth, his tongue seeking and gaining entrance.
“Mmmm,” Marc hummed, appreciatively. “Pushy tonight, aren’t you?”
Radek was pleased that these words no longer made shadow fears loom large in his mind. “Mmmm, sometimes, miláčku,” he agreed. “But I think not tonight.”
Marc nuzzled him again, his tongue tracing a warm, wet line along the tendon’s of Radek’s neck. “You deserve something special, I think,” Marc said. “You were wonderful this week.”
Radek smiled wider than ever. “I bet you say that to every lover brought back from certain death by the unearthly powers of their immediate supervisors,” he joked.
“Well, possibly,” Marc teased. “I am definitely, most definitely, pleased you are firmly. among. the. living.” He punctuated each word with a kiss. “But I was actually referring to how much work you put into saving McKay’s ass, even when he didn’t seem like he wanted you to.”
“Ah,” said Radek. “I see. Well, thank you.”
“I wonder if he has any idea just how good a friend you are to him,” Marc mused.
Radek chuckled softly. “Yes, he does.” Marc paused his ministrations for a moment.
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” Radek affirmed. “Even before he spoke to me this week of his deep love of my brilliance and emotional superiority demonstrated by my ability to tolerate him for years longer than any other human in existence in two galaxies, I knew he valued my friendship.”
Marc chuckled and swatted Radek lightly on his ass. “You’re being naughty, Love.”
“Mmmmm,” Radek agreed.
“Would you like that?” Marc asked, his voice throaty. “Would you like a spanking tonight?”
Radek was confident Marc could not miss the shudder of anticipation that rippled through his body.
Marc’s hands resumed their caresses across the front of Radek’s torso. “Would you prefer my hand? The strap? The flogger?” Marc whispered, soft kisses pressed to Radek’s shoulders between each question.
Radek thought for a few moments before choosing. “I think tonight, prosím, your hand,” Radek breathed, desire dripping from his words. “I’ve been so busy this week. I’ve missed you. I’ve missed your touch.”
Marc hugged Radek fiercely and hummed with pleasure. “I’ve missed you, too,” he said. “Then my hand it is, Love.”
Radek twisted in his embrace until they stood face to face, cock to cock, the heat between them strong. They kissed. They stroked. They touched.
Marc hissed, and Radek dropped to position. Radek felt his fingers in his hair, heard Marc’s praise. He waited while Marc retrieved his bindings from the closet. A clap: Radek nipped smartly to the bed and assumed position for binding. Tonight, there would be spanking, so Marc would probably leave his feet free to make it easier for Radek or Marc to reposition as needed. Radek’s hands, though, his hands would be bound, possibly together, possibly to the bed. Radek felt his cock jump in anticipation.
Radek enjoyed the drawn out manner Marc used to bind him; nothing was quick unless they were in the mood for something both intense and frisky. They weren’t brash young men who could sustain themselves on brief moments of intimacy: when Radek and Marc made love, it was a masterpiece of emotional, psychological, and physical action that left them both sated and absolutely certain of their love and devotion for one another.
Radek felt himself firmly attached to the bed, felt himself relax physically into the restrictions placed on his body. He felt his mind begin to uncoil - no matter how much loving foreplay, how many caresses or kisses or even blowjobs, this was for him the non-negotiable moment. He needed to be secured, to be made secure. Marc did both for him, beautifully.
As Marc began to take the tension from Radek’s body by clever patterns of soft touch and hard slaps on his ass, Radek found his mind slipping free and remembering again the first time they made love, the first time Marc fucked him into the mattress because Radek asked him to and Marc wanted him to ask. The memory alone could warm Radek like nothing else, and when combined with the real and immediate sensation of Marc’s movements and actions on his body in the here-and-now, Radek would smile and feel as though their time together was a nearly uninterrupted flow of loving exploration and joy.
Radek moaned, then cried out, as Marc’s slaps became harder, taking the tension up higher and higher. Soon, Radek would be senseless to cogent thought. He would be flying free in the ecstasy Marc built for him, his own submission to his needs and Marc’s demands bringing them both to the peak and down, again and again, until they could continue no more and would shudder to insensate sleep, warm bodies entwined the night through.
Radek hummed in pleasure, murmuring his happiness. “ Miláčku,” he groaned. “Harder, prosím. Harder. I want to see your marks tomorrow.”
He heard Marc chuckle. “As you wish, Love.”
Radek winced as the blows increased in strength. “ Ano,” he breathed. “ Ano.”
Radek lost himself again in the sensation. Stinging, burning, warm pleasure - it all wrapped him in a haze of sensory joy. He could feel his body unwind, the tension buried deep inside snap, line by line, readying his body for the release Marc would soon deliver.
“Oh god,” Radek heard, and horror sliced through the haze of pleasure in his mind as he realised it was not Marc’s voice he heard, that it was not an utterance of joy or pleasure, but an utterance of anger, perhaps disgust.
Not Marc? Who? Rodney!
Radek fought the fear rising fast within him, the fear that threatened to overwhelm his senses. He felt the rush of air on his back as Marc was suddenly gone, heard the scuffle, heard Marc’s grunts as fists met flesh, heard angry voices shouting, Marc’s own lost among them. It was too much: Radek screamed a scream of primal fear and passed mercifully into insensate oblivion.
End Part II