Nowhere To Go (1/1)
Title: Nowhere To Go
Author: somehowunbroken
Fandom: SGA
Characters: John/Evan
Word Count: 1,503
Rating: NC-17/pooooooooooorn.
Prompt: sga_kinkmeme: 'John looks so pretty all tied up that it's almost a shame to do him, so Evan takes his time.'
Notes: I was pretty sure the Porn Muse had packed up and moved to Rio, but I found her and convinced her to come home. Finally.
Evan’s been at this a while now, and he thinks he’s almost done. He’s got the ropes wrapped perfectly around John, crisscrossing over pale skin and dark hair, and Evan taps at John’s foot as he secures the last knot. John obediently pulls on the rope, which doesn’t give at all, and Evan smiles, pleased. He steps back to survey his work, the artist and his masterpiece, surveying from this angle and that.
“Good,” he murmurs; it’s the first word either of them has said since Evan put the gag in - how long ago? It’s probably been nearly an hour. Evan likes to take his time, make sure everything’s done right. He’s positive he’s outdone himself this time.
John is absolutely fucking glorious like this, restrained and arranged and sweating, eyes closed as he hangs his head down. His dog tags are dangling and reflecting light, moving as he breathes; they’re the only thing he’s wearing besides the ropes holding him in place. It’s a powerful feeling, watching him like this. John’s totally at his mercy, and as much of a rush as that gives Evan, knowing that John is there by his own suggestion makes it even more incredible.
Willingness to participate doesn’t, however, equal control. The control here, the power, is all Evan’s, and they both know it, both crave it, both love it.
Evan decides that his work is done and steps back to the bed, moving until he’s kneeling in front of John’s face. He starts with feather-light touches on John’s cheeks, trailing down his neck, leaning over to spread gossamer fingers across the broad planes of his back, skipping over the ropes as he goes. He continues his careful exploration, barely touching, barely close enough for the heat from his hand to reach John’s skin. He can tell John’s feeling it, though; his breathing has quickened and he’s leaking against his stomach. He hasn’t made a sound, though, hasn’t tried to do so much as twitch a muscle.
Evan stands, then, moving around John’s body until he can settle comfortably behind his lover. His hands are firmer now, providing pressure for John to try to arch into, and he follows his hands with tongue and teeth, covering every exposed inch of John except where John most wants him to be. John knows the rules of engagement here, though, knows that he’s following Evan’s commands, and stays absolutely, almost eerily still. He very carefully doesn’t angle himself more easily towards Evan’s mouth, and he definitely doesn’t squirm when Evan finally leans his head down to lick a stripe from the base of his cock all the way to the very tip. His control is only so good, though, and when Evan licks him again there’s a stream of words that Evan can understand even through the gag. It ends in a high whine as Evan swallows him down.
Evan loves being able to take his time. He sucks and licks at John’s cock, his balls, until John is moaning and shaking from the effort of not coming, because he’s still himself enough to know that he doesn’t have permission to, not yet. Evan finally pulls off with a pop and John almost sags, would have if not for the ropes holding him firmly where he is. Evan has to give him credit, though, because he’s been told he’s damn good at sucking cock, and John has never yet come before Evan gives him the word.
He props himself up next to John now and trails a finger down his side. “You look fucking amazing like this,” Evan says, letting the hoarseness in his voice come through, and John makes a needy little sound in the back of his throat. Evan chuckles, low and rough, enjoys the slight burn in his throat from where John’s cock had been pressing. “Kneeling on my bed, all tied up so you can’t move, gagged up, hard as fuck, dripping on my sheets.” Evan drags a finger from the base of John’s spine to his neck, feeling muscles flex all the way up. His fingers brush in John’s hair as Evan stretches out next to him, reaching to cup John’s face. John’s eyes snap open and immediately focus on Evan’s.
“I should’ve plugged you,” Evan says softly, and John makes the most indescribable noise, somewhere between a moan and a gasp, saying God yes and please do without the words - after all, he’s still gagged - but Evan hears them anyway.
“Next time,” he promises, and John’s eyes flash darker, almost black with the thought. For now, though, Evan reaches around to the back of John’s head and releases the gag, pulling it off slowly. John licks his lips but otherwise doesn’t move, and Evan has the bizarrely out-of-place thought that this is the only place that he actually obeys orders, knowing not to do or say anything until Evan allows it.
“What do you want, John?” Evan asks him. “Tell me.”
“God, Evan, fuck me,” and he’s pleading, fucking begging for it, moving what little he can to stick his ass higher in the air. “Through the goddamned mattress.”
Evan is losing the battle for control and he takes a deep breath, bringing himself back from the edge because, really, it would be too easy to just come now and leave John like this, tied and needy and hard, until Evan was ready again. He has to bite the inside of his check to keep from groaning out loud at the idea. Next time, he promises again, silently this time.
Instead, he moves back behind John, grabbing the condoms and lube he’d set nearby earlier. He rolls the condom on quickly and flicks the lube open, squirting it out and shoving two fingers in. John takes them easily; they don’t get to play like this nearly enough for either of them, but they fuck often enough that this isn’t going to have to be at all gentle. Evan opens John up quickly, twisting and scissoring his fingers, making sure he’s pressing against John’s sweet spot. He’s hitting his mark fairly often, if the sounds John is making are any indication.
“Tell me,” Evan orders, stilling his fingers.
“Fuck,” John responds instantly, “Fuck, Evan, it’s incredible, it’s great, I need more, please, I need you.” He’s babbling, and that’s how Evan knows he’s ready even though he could probably use a little more preparation. Evan pulls his fingers out and lines himself up, pushing in all at once, and John moans and gasps underneath him. His body is writhing in the restraints, and Evan can tell that he’s torn between wanting to move, to push back against him, and loving the fact that he can’t.
“Tell me,” he orders again, because he loves hearing it and John has no issues with letting him know.
“Perfect, fucking perfect, full and perfect,” and oh, it’s one of those nights where John’s like a broken record, so far gone already that he can’t talk for his focus on not losing it before Evan tells him he can.
Evan leans over, holding himself above John’s back, and licks a pattern between the ropes crisscrossing John’s upper back. He keeps his hips as still as he can as his upper body moves. John’s breathing is becoming shallower and shallower, more ragged with each intake. Evan bites into his shoulderblade and laps at the mark before leaning up to John’s ear.
“Go ahead,” he breathes. As he speaks, he pulls out and pushes back in almost violently, and John comes with a broken gasp. Evan thrusts through it, knowing that it won’t be long before he’s following along, what with John clenching around him and gasping and writhing beneath him, all sweaty skin and sated little moans. John’s still quaking through his own aftershocks when Evan shudders, coming hard, and slumps down over John’s back.
“God,” he groans when he remembers that he can speak again. “We do not get enough time off.”
“Agreed,” John says, voice muffled; his head is pressed into the mattress, as if he doesn’t have enough strength left to hold it up. Evan reaches out and tugs on a few of the knots, releasing John’s body from their hold, and John drops, boneless, to the mattress. He groans, and Evan is instantly more alert, leaning over.
“Are you okay?” he asks, reaching for John’s wrist. The skin there is darker, red from where the rope had been, and Evan rubs it gently.
John snorts. “I’m fine. Wet spot,” he explains, rolling to the side.
Evan grins. “We should change the sheets.”
“Yeah,” John says, yawning and wrapping an arm around Evan. He’s still got ropes everywhere, some loose and some still pretty tight across his chest, but his movement is no longer restricted. He pulls Evan close, and Evan can feel the rope against his own body, rough on his sensitized skin. He doesn’t pull away, though. “Let’s do it later.”
“Later,” Evan agrees. “Good idea.”
Author: somehowunbroken
Fandom: SGA
Characters: John/Evan
Word Count: 1,503
Rating: NC-17/pooooooooooorn.
Prompt: sga_kinkmeme: 'John looks so pretty all tied up that it's almost a shame to do him, so Evan takes his time.'
Notes: I was pretty sure the Porn Muse had packed up and moved to Rio, but I found her and convinced her to come home. Finally.
Evan’s been at this a while now, and he thinks he’s almost done. He’s got the ropes wrapped perfectly around John, crisscrossing over pale skin and dark hair, and Evan taps at John’s foot as he secures the last knot. John obediently pulls on the rope, which doesn’t give at all, and Evan smiles, pleased. He steps back to survey his work, the artist and his masterpiece, surveying from this angle and that.
“Good,” he murmurs; it’s the first word either of them has said since Evan put the gag in - how long ago? It’s probably been nearly an hour. Evan likes to take his time, make sure everything’s done right. He’s positive he’s outdone himself this time.
John is absolutely fucking glorious like this, restrained and arranged and sweating, eyes closed as he hangs his head down. His dog tags are dangling and reflecting light, moving as he breathes; they’re the only thing he’s wearing besides the ropes holding him in place. It’s a powerful feeling, watching him like this. John’s totally at his mercy, and as much of a rush as that gives Evan, knowing that John is there by his own suggestion makes it even more incredible.
Willingness to participate doesn’t, however, equal control. The control here, the power, is all Evan’s, and they both know it, both crave it, both love it.
Evan decides that his work is done and steps back to the bed, moving until he’s kneeling in front of John’s face. He starts with feather-light touches on John’s cheeks, trailing down his neck, leaning over to spread gossamer fingers across the broad planes of his back, skipping over the ropes as he goes. He continues his careful exploration, barely touching, barely close enough for the heat from his hand to reach John’s skin. He can tell John’s feeling it, though; his breathing has quickened and he’s leaking against his stomach. He hasn’t made a sound, though, hasn’t tried to do so much as twitch a muscle.
Evan stands, then, moving around John’s body until he can settle comfortably behind his lover. His hands are firmer now, providing pressure for John to try to arch into, and he follows his hands with tongue and teeth, covering every exposed inch of John except where John most wants him to be. John knows the rules of engagement here, though, knows that he’s following Evan’s commands, and stays absolutely, almost eerily still. He very carefully doesn’t angle himself more easily towards Evan’s mouth, and he definitely doesn’t squirm when Evan finally leans his head down to lick a stripe from the base of his cock all the way to the very tip. His control is only so good, though, and when Evan licks him again there’s a stream of words that Evan can understand even through the gag. It ends in a high whine as Evan swallows him down.
Evan loves being able to take his time. He sucks and licks at John’s cock, his balls, until John is moaning and shaking from the effort of not coming, because he’s still himself enough to know that he doesn’t have permission to, not yet. Evan finally pulls off with a pop and John almost sags, would have if not for the ropes holding him firmly where he is. Evan has to give him credit, though, because he’s been told he’s damn good at sucking cock, and John has never yet come before Evan gives him the word.
He props himself up next to John now and trails a finger down his side. “You look fucking amazing like this,” Evan says, letting the hoarseness in his voice come through, and John makes a needy little sound in the back of his throat. Evan chuckles, low and rough, enjoys the slight burn in his throat from where John’s cock had been pressing. “Kneeling on my bed, all tied up so you can’t move, gagged up, hard as fuck, dripping on my sheets.” Evan drags a finger from the base of John’s spine to his neck, feeling muscles flex all the way up. His fingers brush in John’s hair as Evan stretches out next to him, reaching to cup John’s face. John’s eyes snap open and immediately focus on Evan’s.
“I should’ve plugged you,” Evan says softly, and John makes the most indescribable noise, somewhere between a moan and a gasp, saying God yes and please do without the words - after all, he’s still gagged - but Evan hears them anyway.
“Next time,” he promises, and John’s eyes flash darker, almost black with the thought. For now, though, Evan reaches around to the back of John’s head and releases the gag, pulling it off slowly. John licks his lips but otherwise doesn’t move, and Evan has the bizarrely out-of-place thought that this is the only place that he actually obeys orders, knowing not to do or say anything until Evan allows it.
“What do you want, John?” Evan asks him. “Tell me.”
“God, Evan, fuck me,” and he’s pleading, fucking begging for it, moving what little he can to stick his ass higher in the air. “Through the goddamned mattress.”
Evan is losing the battle for control and he takes a deep breath, bringing himself back from the edge because, really, it would be too easy to just come now and leave John like this, tied and needy and hard, until Evan was ready again. He has to bite the inside of his check to keep from groaning out loud at the idea. Next time, he promises again, silently this time.
Instead, he moves back behind John, grabbing the condoms and lube he’d set nearby earlier. He rolls the condom on quickly and flicks the lube open, squirting it out and shoving two fingers in. John takes them easily; they don’t get to play like this nearly enough for either of them, but they fuck often enough that this isn’t going to have to be at all gentle. Evan opens John up quickly, twisting and scissoring his fingers, making sure he’s pressing against John’s sweet spot. He’s hitting his mark fairly often, if the sounds John is making are any indication.
“Tell me,” Evan orders, stilling his fingers.
“Fuck,” John responds instantly, “Fuck, Evan, it’s incredible, it’s great, I need more, please, I need you.” He’s babbling, and that’s how Evan knows he’s ready even though he could probably use a little more preparation. Evan pulls his fingers out and lines himself up, pushing in all at once, and John moans and gasps underneath him. His body is writhing in the restraints, and Evan can tell that he’s torn between wanting to move, to push back against him, and loving the fact that he can’t.
“Tell me,” he orders again, because he loves hearing it and John has no issues with letting him know.
“Perfect, fucking perfect, full and perfect,” and oh, it’s one of those nights where John’s like a broken record, so far gone already that he can’t talk for his focus on not losing it before Evan tells him he can.
Evan leans over, holding himself above John’s back, and licks a pattern between the ropes crisscrossing John’s upper back. He keeps his hips as still as he can as his upper body moves. John’s breathing is becoming shallower and shallower, more ragged with each intake. Evan bites into his shoulderblade and laps at the mark before leaning up to John’s ear.
“Go ahead,” he breathes. As he speaks, he pulls out and pushes back in almost violently, and John comes with a broken gasp. Evan thrusts through it, knowing that it won’t be long before he’s following along, what with John clenching around him and gasping and writhing beneath him, all sweaty skin and sated little moans. John’s still quaking through his own aftershocks when Evan shudders, coming hard, and slumps down over John’s back.
“God,” he groans when he remembers that he can speak again. “We do not get enough time off.”
“Agreed,” John says, voice muffled; his head is pressed into the mattress, as if he doesn’t have enough strength left to hold it up. Evan reaches out and tugs on a few of the knots, releasing John’s body from their hold, and John drops, boneless, to the mattress. He groans, and Evan is instantly more alert, leaning over.
“Are you okay?” he asks, reaching for John’s wrist. The skin there is darker, red from where the rope had been, and Evan rubs it gently.
John snorts. “I’m fine. Wet spot,” he explains, rolling to the side.
Evan grins. “We should change the sheets.”
“Yeah,” John says, yawning and wrapping an arm around Evan. He’s still got ropes everywhere, some loose and some still pretty tight across his chest, but his movement is no longer restricted. He pulls Evan close, and Evan can feel the rope against his own body, rough on his sensitized skin. He doesn’t pull away, though. “Let’s do it later.”
“Later,” Evan agrees. “Good idea.”