just_1_word | 1.3 Cathartic
1.3. Cathartic
[Co-written with dontdotricks and follows THIS]
ADULT CONTENT NSFW
Flynn had turned all the lights off in Remy’s room and opted instead for lighting some candles here and there to create a relaxing atmosphere. He warmed the massage oils and no had his lover carefully resting on his stomach amongst the sheets on the bed. Remy hadn’t been completely in to the idea of receiving a massage but he also hadn’t been able to deny that over the last few weeks, his muscles just felt achy from lying in the same positions all the time. His cheek was pressed against his arm as he watched Flynn uncap the bottle of massage oil and settled on the bed in a kneeling position beside him. Flynn had insisted that if they were going to do this, they were both doing it in just their boxers, but the room was warm enough and cosy enough from the candles for it not to be an issue.
Remy still had the dressings over the wound on his back, but Chase had told him the bandages could be removed now because it was best if the skin was able to breathe or he’d get sores from them rubbing. “Are you comfortable, sweets?” Flynn asked, leaning down to see Remy’s face with a smile. “You’ll tell me if it hurts?”
“I’ll tell you if it hurts more, amour,” Remy murmured. He tried to see what Flynn was up to behind him, but it was impossible, so he had no choice but to relax and trust what Flynn had planned. He sucked in a small breath through his nose when Flynn started to rub the warm oil into his shoulders. No doubt about it, it felt amazing. His eyes closed reflexively as he quickly got used to the feeling.
Flynn was careful in the massage at first, wanting to ease into it to see how much Remy could tolerate. He saw the red eyes slip closed and he smiled, keeping a slow rhythm in the gentle rubs. “While I have you pliant at my fingertips, I have a confession to make, gorgeous,” he admitted.
“Hm?” was all Remy managed, not even bothering to open his eyes.
“I went down on Maddy before she left for work. She was going crazy and needed some sort of relief,” Flynn explained. He wet his lips. “But if it’s any consolation, we thought about you the whole time.”
Remy did open his eyes at this, though just a little. “Was it good, mon amour?” he asked, his voice coming out with a husky edge to the tone.
Remy’s voice did nothing but shoot straight to Flynn’s groin. He indulged in a moment of letting it wash over him and then nodded. “Oh yeah… it was amazing, sweetness. It always is…”
“Where did you do it?” Remy pressed, his tongue brushing over his top lip. Flynn’s hands moved a little lower and Remy hummed in appreciation. There had been nothing more than hugs and kisses since he’d been injured and the hands on his bare skin were starting to drive him wild.
“On the balcony,” Flynn said lowly, watching Remy’s face closely. That tongue… oh how he knew what that Cajun tongue could do. “She was trying not to scream our names and disturb the neighbours.”
Remy’s breathing deepened and he shifted just a little under Flynn’s hands. “Fuck the neighbours,” he said through a deep exhalation.
Flynn leaned over and brushed his lips against Remy’s ear. “I’d rather fuck you,” he whispered and teased his tongue along Remy’s earlobe.
Remy made a frustrated sound and scrunched his face up. “I need to lie on my side,” he hissed, already trying to shift positions. It just pulled on the injury though and he gasped, biting down on his lip to try and dilute it. “Merde, must you two always insist on the prick teasing?!”
“Let me help you,” Flynn murmured and braced Remy’s weight against him to help him move back on to his side. It was more than starkly evident why Remy wanted to get on to his side. He was as hard as rock, the thin underwear doing nothing to hide the fact. It was at least a relief to know that part of him still worked a treat, even if the ‘prick teasing’ had annoyed him. He lay on his side next to Remy with his head propped up on his hand. He lightly ran his other hand down the side of Remy’s bare torso and leaned him to ease him into a lethargic kiss. Part of him expected Remy to not be interested in reciprocating, but the Cajun kissed back hungrily, a taste clearly not being enough to satiate him. It lingered until Flynn pulled back just a little bit to meet Remy’s eyes. “Trust me?” he asked softly.
Remy nodded, licking his lips to still taste Flynn there. There was trust, although he was always anxious when someone said that. But Flynn and Madison weren’t threats. Remy had seen enough now to understand that. They’d helped him through the most intimate and personal of tasks over the last few weeks that the trust was underlying now without a need to constantly analyse it. But he didn’t know why Flynn was requesting that now. Probably because Remy had just snapped at him. The last thing Remy wanted to do was put them both back to walking on eggshells around him. That was never his intention; he just had to try and deal with this shock of being shot the best way he knew how. Anger and frustration had broken through in leaps and bounds beyond all other emotions.
Flynn got comfortable, remaining close enough to be able to kiss Remy. He slipped his fingers into the elastic of Remy’s underwear and cupped his palm over the hard length of Remy’s erection. “It’s okay,” he whispered, noticing how Remy’s eyes seemed so much darker in the candlelight. “We’ll go slow. Just try to relax and enjoy it. I want to help you, just like I helped Maddy.”
Remy’s breaths were already deepening with arousal. He gave the tiniest of nods and then let his head rest against the pillow, looking down at Flynn’s hand on him, starting to work in soft squeezes around the hardened flesh. God, he wanted it and needed it so badly. There were thoughts beyond the surface that the effort of an orgasm was going to hurt like hell or he would be left drained afterwards, but right then, with Flynn touching him like this again, he just couldn’t care. Then Flynn’s lips were against his again, tasting sweet like Flynn had just been eating chocolate but with a mix of nicotine that Remy himself always craved. It was intoxicating and the kiss deepened, their tongues curling against each other linking them in a way that their bodies were unable to at that moment. Flynn’s hand caressed and massaged Remy’s cock like it was made to do just that and Remy was unable to stifle a hungry groan that purred through his throat as he tried to draw Flynn’s tongue further into his mouth.
Flynn was more distracted in the kiss than Remy was, but that was the intent. He was determined to get his lover off, though was aware he didn’t want to hurt him anymore than he already was. His leg was pressed against Remy’s to keep him as immobile as possible while he worked his hand expertly within the Cajun’s boxers. The elastic was pulled tightly against his wrist and he made a note to next time get them off before starting to make his moves. On the downward sweep of his hand, he reached a little further and cupped Remy’s balls, rolling them between his fingers and giving them in soft pulsing squeezes. What he really wanted was access to that gorgeous Cajun arse, to lose his fingers in the hot, tight depth of it but he didn’t want to push his luck. Hearing, seeing, and feeling Remy come undone in his hand was already more sweet treats than he should rightfully be partaking in right then, but if Remy was up to it, why not?
Considering Hawaii was the last time Remy indulged in any sort of sexual touch, it didn’t take long for him to spiral rapidly to climax. His hand went to Flynn’s hip with a small whimper of anticipation. It was going to hurt, but fuck, was it going to feel amazing too. He had to break out of the kiss to brace his cheek against the pillow and the top of his head fell against Flynn’s jaw. It was barely more than two beats before the orgasm pulsed through him, tightening his muscles and sending a prickling sensation across his skin. With his cock pressed firmly into Flynn’s palm, Remy grunted as the climax ebbed away and pleasure gave way to pain in his back from the tensing. His breath hitched in his throat as he released his tight grip on Flynn’s hip and looked up to meet Flynn’s eyes breathlessly. “Merde… chere…” he panted, wetting his lips.
“Is that a good Cajun swearing or a bad one?” Flynn asked as he tried to read Remy’s red eyes. He gently uncurled his fingers from Remy’s now spent cock, his fingers and palm covered in the warm, slick semen. No doubt about it, it was a forceful orgasm. That’s what happened when bloke was forced to hold off for any length of time, no matter what the reason. He was tempted to put his fingers to his lips and taste Remy’s essence, but thought that was a bit premature considering Remy seemed to be in pain. But Remy was watching him with what could only be a challenge in the red gleam of his eyes. Flynn wet his lips and put his hand to his mouth, slowly trailing his tongue from his wrist over his palm and up to his fingers. He moaned at the taste, eyes falling closed indulgently while his lips circled his index finger.
There was pain. A pulsing pain right at the sight the bullet had entered his flesh, but the sight of Flynn savouring his taste was enough to dull the ache. It was erotic and it was addictive. He managed to lean forward enough to take Flynn’s hand from his mouth, and then he kissed him, hard, deep, tasting the remnants of his own climax on Flynn’s tongue. Suddenly he realised there was more argument for the notion of sexual healing…
All characters mentioned referenced with permission
Muse | Flynn Marcus Hunter (Original Character)
Word Count | 1,760
[Co-written with dontdotricks and follows THIS]
ADULT CONTENT NSFW
Flynn had turned all the lights off in Remy’s room and opted instead for lighting some candles here and there to create a relaxing atmosphere. He warmed the massage oils and no had his lover carefully resting on his stomach amongst the sheets on the bed. Remy hadn’t been completely in to the idea of receiving a massage but he also hadn’t been able to deny that over the last few weeks, his muscles just felt achy from lying in the same positions all the time. His cheek was pressed against his arm as he watched Flynn uncap the bottle of massage oil and settled on the bed in a kneeling position beside him. Flynn had insisted that if they were going to do this, they were both doing it in just their boxers, but the room was warm enough and cosy enough from the candles for it not to be an issue.
Remy still had the dressings over the wound on his back, but Chase had told him the bandages could be removed now because it was best if the skin was able to breathe or he’d get sores from them rubbing. “Are you comfortable, sweets?” Flynn asked, leaning down to see Remy’s face with a smile. “You’ll tell me if it hurts?”
“I’ll tell you if it hurts more, amour,” Remy murmured. He tried to see what Flynn was up to behind him, but it was impossible, so he had no choice but to relax and trust what Flynn had planned. He sucked in a small breath through his nose when Flynn started to rub the warm oil into his shoulders. No doubt about it, it felt amazing. His eyes closed reflexively as he quickly got used to the feeling.
Flynn was careful in the massage at first, wanting to ease into it to see how much Remy could tolerate. He saw the red eyes slip closed and he smiled, keeping a slow rhythm in the gentle rubs. “While I have you pliant at my fingertips, I have a confession to make, gorgeous,” he admitted.
“Hm?” was all Remy managed, not even bothering to open his eyes.
“I went down on Maddy before she left for work. She was going crazy and needed some sort of relief,” Flynn explained. He wet his lips. “But if it’s any consolation, we thought about you the whole time.”
Remy did open his eyes at this, though just a little. “Was it good, mon amour?” he asked, his voice coming out with a husky edge to the tone.
Remy’s voice did nothing but shoot straight to Flynn’s groin. He indulged in a moment of letting it wash over him and then nodded. “Oh yeah… it was amazing, sweetness. It always is…”
“Where did you do it?” Remy pressed, his tongue brushing over his top lip. Flynn’s hands moved a little lower and Remy hummed in appreciation. There had been nothing more than hugs and kisses since he’d been injured and the hands on his bare skin were starting to drive him wild.
“On the balcony,” Flynn said lowly, watching Remy’s face closely. That tongue… oh how he knew what that Cajun tongue could do. “She was trying not to scream our names and disturb the neighbours.”
Remy’s breathing deepened and he shifted just a little under Flynn’s hands. “Fuck the neighbours,” he said through a deep exhalation.
Flynn leaned over and brushed his lips against Remy’s ear. “I’d rather fuck you,” he whispered and teased his tongue along Remy’s earlobe.
Remy made a frustrated sound and scrunched his face up. “I need to lie on my side,” he hissed, already trying to shift positions. It just pulled on the injury though and he gasped, biting down on his lip to try and dilute it. “Merde, must you two always insist on the prick teasing?!”
“Let me help you,” Flynn murmured and braced Remy’s weight against him to help him move back on to his side. It was more than starkly evident why Remy wanted to get on to his side. He was as hard as rock, the thin underwear doing nothing to hide the fact. It was at least a relief to know that part of him still worked a treat, even if the ‘prick teasing’ had annoyed him. He lay on his side next to Remy with his head propped up on his hand. He lightly ran his other hand down the side of Remy’s bare torso and leaned him to ease him into a lethargic kiss. Part of him expected Remy to not be interested in reciprocating, but the Cajun kissed back hungrily, a taste clearly not being enough to satiate him. It lingered until Flynn pulled back just a little bit to meet Remy’s eyes. “Trust me?” he asked softly.
Remy nodded, licking his lips to still taste Flynn there. There was trust, although he was always anxious when someone said that. But Flynn and Madison weren’t threats. Remy had seen enough now to understand that. They’d helped him through the most intimate and personal of tasks over the last few weeks that the trust was underlying now without a need to constantly analyse it. But he didn’t know why Flynn was requesting that now. Probably because Remy had just snapped at him. The last thing Remy wanted to do was put them both back to walking on eggshells around him. That was never his intention; he just had to try and deal with this shock of being shot the best way he knew how. Anger and frustration had broken through in leaps and bounds beyond all other emotions.
Flynn got comfortable, remaining close enough to be able to kiss Remy. He slipped his fingers into the elastic of Remy’s underwear and cupped his palm over the hard length of Remy’s erection. “It’s okay,” he whispered, noticing how Remy’s eyes seemed so much darker in the candlelight. “We’ll go slow. Just try to relax and enjoy it. I want to help you, just like I helped Maddy.”
Remy’s breaths were already deepening with arousal. He gave the tiniest of nods and then let his head rest against the pillow, looking down at Flynn’s hand on him, starting to work in soft squeezes around the hardened flesh. God, he wanted it and needed it so badly. There were thoughts beyond the surface that the effort of an orgasm was going to hurt like hell or he would be left drained afterwards, but right then, with Flynn touching him like this again, he just couldn’t care. Then Flynn’s lips were against his again, tasting sweet like Flynn had just been eating chocolate but with a mix of nicotine that Remy himself always craved. It was intoxicating and the kiss deepened, their tongues curling against each other linking them in a way that their bodies were unable to at that moment. Flynn’s hand caressed and massaged Remy’s cock like it was made to do just that and Remy was unable to stifle a hungry groan that purred through his throat as he tried to draw Flynn’s tongue further into his mouth.
Flynn was more distracted in the kiss than Remy was, but that was the intent. He was determined to get his lover off, though was aware he didn’t want to hurt him anymore than he already was. His leg was pressed against Remy’s to keep him as immobile as possible while he worked his hand expertly within the Cajun’s boxers. The elastic was pulled tightly against his wrist and he made a note to next time get them off before starting to make his moves. On the downward sweep of his hand, he reached a little further and cupped Remy’s balls, rolling them between his fingers and giving them in soft pulsing squeezes. What he really wanted was access to that gorgeous Cajun arse, to lose his fingers in the hot, tight depth of it but he didn’t want to push his luck. Hearing, seeing, and feeling Remy come undone in his hand was already more sweet treats than he should rightfully be partaking in right then, but if Remy was up to it, why not?
Considering Hawaii was the last time Remy indulged in any sort of sexual touch, it didn’t take long for him to spiral rapidly to climax. His hand went to Flynn’s hip with a small whimper of anticipation. It was going to hurt, but fuck, was it going to feel amazing too. He had to break out of the kiss to brace his cheek against the pillow and the top of his head fell against Flynn’s jaw. It was barely more than two beats before the orgasm pulsed through him, tightening his muscles and sending a prickling sensation across his skin. With his cock pressed firmly into Flynn’s palm, Remy grunted as the climax ebbed away and pleasure gave way to pain in his back from the tensing. His breath hitched in his throat as he released his tight grip on Flynn’s hip and looked up to meet Flynn’s eyes breathlessly. “Merde… chere…” he panted, wetting his lips.
“Is that a good Cajun swearing or a bad one?” Flynn asked as he tried to read Remy’s red eyes. He gently uncurled his fingers from Remy’s now spent cock, his fingers and palm covered in the warm, slick semen. No doubt about it, it was a forceful orgasm. That’s what happened when bloke was forced to hold off for any length of time, no matter what the reason. He was tempted to put his fingers to his lips and taste Remy’s essence, but thought that was a bit premature considering Remy seemed to be in pain. But Remy was watching him with what could only be a challenge in the red gleam of his eyes. Flynn wet his lips and put his hand to his mouth, slowly trailing his tongue from his wrist over his palm and up to his fingers. He moaned at the taste, eyes falling closed indulgently while his lips circled his index finger.
There was pain. A pulsing pain right at the sight the bullet had entered his flesh, but the sight of Flynn savouring his taste was enough to dull the ache. It was erotic and it was addictive. He managed to lean forward enough to take Flynn’s hand from his mouth, and then he kissed him, hard, deep, tasting the remnants of his own climax on Flynn’s tongue. Suddenly he realised there was more argument for the notion of sexual healing…
All characters mentioned referenced with permission
Muse | Flynn Marcus Hunter (Original Character)
Word Count | 1,760