Close Shave (J/A) (18/?)
This fic is rated: S for Sharp
Fandom: James Bond: Goldeneye
Characters/Pairing: James/Alec
Summary: James does Alec a very personal favor.
Warnings: Mild slashiness.
This series contains sex that, while nominally consensual, takes place during and after brainwashing. As the character is incapable of giving any meaningful consent, the sex in the story would legally and ethically be considered rape. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
Word Count: 986
Feedback: yes, please!
X-Posted: were_lemur, forengland
Series Master List
Chapter One
Previous Chapter
Disclaimer: I don't own James Bond. I don't own Alec Trevelyan either (alas), nor any other characters mentioned in this fic. James, Alec, etc. are all property of Ian Fleming and MGM. I'm just playing with them for a while. Not making any money, don't have any money, please don't sue!
He woke for the sixth time -- he doubted it had been six days; it might have been as little as two, but he had no way to tell -- and lay still. Gathered his thoughts, planned his next move.
He could hear James moving around. Pacing, he wondered, or cleaning? He listened, and could hear the soft swish of a broom. Cleaning, definitely.
James being domestic. He smiled at the image.
James must have seen him smile, because the next thing Alec knew, he was at his side. "Good dreams?" he asked.
"No. Just imagining you in a frilly little maid's outfit."
"Not my kink, I'm afraid"
"Nor mine." Alec opened his eyes. "You must admit, though, the image is not without a certain amusement value."
"Yes." James smiled. "And what shall we dress you up as?"
"I -- " Was this a trick, a test? Or an opportunity? He scratched at his beard. "A wild man, maybe. I've got the whiskers for it. Mostly." He'd tried to grow a beard, a few years after Arkangel, to conceal the scars. But it had grown in patchy; the grafted skin didn't grow any hair at all, and the areas that did have hair were twisted. It had only served to draw more attention to the burns; he'd shaved it off.
"Do you want a shave?" James asked.
"Please, God, yes!" He didn't even pretend to hide his eagerness.
James kissed him on the forehead. "All right. I'll be right back."
He heard James's footsteps retreat, and listened eagerly for their return. When James came back, he had an armful of things, including a plastic basin and several towels. Alec tried to watch as he set up, but it was out of his line of vision.
James covered him to his chin with a sheet, and tucked it in around him. Then he began to clip the beard short, with small scissors. The scissors made small chips of sound as the coarse hairs were clipped short.
Next, James brought over a tub of shaving lotion. He used a brush to whip up a froth, and swirled it across Alec's face. It smelled of limes -- freshly-cut limes. Alec felt his mouth start to water. He swallowed hard.
"Are you all right?" James asked.
"Fine." Even to his own ears, his voice sounded strained. James looked at him for a long moment, before he continued to apply the delicious-smelling foam. Alec had to fight the temptation not to take a taste.
James turned, setting the brush aside, and picked up something silvery, about a handspan long. He flipped it open, to reveal a straight razor.
"I hope you have steady hands," Alec said, only half-joking.
"Of course. Trust me?"
How could he answer that?
James didn't wait for a reply. Instead, he moved the blade of the razor to Alec's cheek. He swept it down in one smooth stroke, wiped the blade off, and reversed it, sweeping back up over the same territory.
Then he ran a thumb over the naked patch of skin. It was so sensitized, it was like a direct line right down to his cock. Alec felt himself growing hard. He ran the tip of his tongue over his lower lip. Tasted the soapy tang of the shaving lotion.
The deadly silver skimmed his face again. Once, twice, and then the warm kiss of flesh on flesh.
Over and over, the dance continued. Steel-steel-flesh, steel-steel-flesh. Cheek, upper lip, chin. Every touch made his nerves sing, blade or thumb, it didn't even matter, and James was playing his nerves like a violin without even trying. He felt his erection scraping against the inside of the cast. It should have been painful, but he found himself trying to arch his hips up against it. To no avail; he was braced too securely.
"Stop squirming," James said, without breaking his rhythm.
Then he moved on, to the badly-scarred right cheek.
Now, the dance became intricate. Small, delicate cuts, measured in millimeters. He opened his eyes to see the James frowning in concentration, his lips slightly parted. His eyes intent.
For a moment, he thought -- hoped -- James would kiss him. But James just kept on with what he was doing, his hands steady, his focus absolute.
"Close your eyes," James whispered. "You're distracting me."
He obeyed. Let his other senses take over; he felt the cool of the blade and the warmth of the skin. Smelled the limes, almost tasted them, beyond the soapy taste of the foam. Heard his breath, James's breath, synchronized like they were making love.
The razor moved down, across the line of his jaw, and down onto his neck. Alec flinched when James put his free hand on his collarbone, to gently stretch the skin, as he continued the careful work.
James finished with the scarred, disrupted flesh, and moved the razor, pressed it against the other side of his throat for just a moment. Alec felt his breath catch; he imagined James pressing the blade in, letting his blood flow.
The moment passed. James went back to work, clearing the last of the hair from Alec's throat. Then he wiped the last of the shaving foam away, and then laid another towel, warm and damp, across his face.
He was grateful for the chance to rest. Catch his breath. Slow his breathing.
Let his erection subside.
He'd just started to slide into sleep, when James pulled the towel away, and started to smooth on aftershave. It stung, but only a bit -- enough to wake him up.
"Better?" James asked.
"Yes." He ran his hand over his face, and found it smooth. "Thank you."
"Of course." James leaned over him, and smoothed on even more aftershave. Unnecessary, but Alec wasn't going to complain, as the fingers trailed across his lips and traced his jawline. "You'd do the same for me."
Next Chapter
Fandom: James Bond: Goldeneye
Characters/Pairing: James/Alec
Summary: James does Alec a very personal favor.
Warnings: Mild slashiness.
This series contains sex that, while nominally consensual, takes place during and after brainwashing. As the character is incapable of giving any meaningful consent, the sex in the story would legally and ethically be considered rape. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
Word Count: 986
Feedback: yes, please!
X-Posted: were_lemur, forengland
Series Master List
Chapter One
Previous Chapter
Disclaimer: I don't own James Bond. I don't own Alec Trevelyan either (alas), nor any other characters mentioned in this fic. James, Alec, etc. are all property of Ian Fleming and MGM. I'm just playing with them for a while. Not making any money, don't have any money, please don't sue!
He woke for the sixth time -- he doubted it had been six days; it might have been as little as two, but he had no way to tell -- and lay still. Gathered his thoughts, planned his next move.
He could hear James moving around. Pacing, he wondered, or cleaning? He listened, and could hear the soft swish of a broom. Cleaning, definitely.
James being domestic. He smiled at the image.
James must have seen him smile, because the next thing Alec knew, he was at his side. "Good dreams?" he asked.
"No. Just imagining you in a frilly little maid's outfit."
"Not my kink, I'm afraid"
"Nor mine." Alec opened his eyes. "You must admit, though, the image is not without a certain amusement value."
"Yes." James smiled. "And what shall we dress you up as?"
"I -- " Was this a trick, a test? Or an opportunity? He scratched at his beard. "A wild man, maybe. I've got the whiskers for it. Mostly." He'd tried to grow a beard, a few years after Arkangel, to conceal the scars. But it had grown in patchy; the grafted skin didn't grow any hair at all, and the areas that did have hair were twisted. It had only served to draw more attention to the burns; he'd shaved it off.
"Do you want a shave?" James asked.
"Please, God, yes!" He didn't even pretend to hide his eagerness.
James kissed him on the forehead. "All right. I'll be right back."
He heard James's footsteps retreat, and listened eagerly for their return. When James came back, he had an armful of things, including a plastic basin and several towels. Alec tried to watch as he set up, but it was out of his line of vision.
James covered him to his chin with a sheet, and tucked it in around him. Then he began to clip the beard short, with small scissors. The scissors made small chips of sound as the coarse hairs were clipped short.
Next, James brought over a tub of shaving lotion. He used a brush to whip up a froth, and swirled it across Alec's face. It smelled of limes -- freshly-cut limes. Alec felt his mouth start to water. He swallowed hard.
"Are you all right?" James asked.
"Fine." Even to his own ears, his voice sounded strained. James looked at him for a long moment, before he continued to apply the delicious-smelling foam. Alec had to fight the temptation not to take a taste.
James turned, setting the brush aside, and picked up something silvery, about a handspan long. He flipped it open, to reveal a straight razor.
"I hope you have steady hands," Alec said, only half-joking.
"Of course. Trust me?"
How could he answer that?
James didn't wait for a reply. Instead, he moved the blade of the razor to Alec's cheek. He swept it down in one smooth stroke, wiped the blade off, and reversed it, sweeping back up over the same territory.
Then he ran a thumb over the naked patch of skin. It was so sensitized, it was like a direct line right down to his cock. Alec felt himself growing hard. He ran the tip of his tongue over his lower lip. Tasted the soapy tang of the shaving lotion.
The deadly silver skimmed his face again. Once, twice, and then the warm kiss of flesh on flesh.
Over and over, the dance continued. Steel-steel-flesh, steel-steel-flesh. Cheek, upper lip, chin. Every touch made his nerves sing, blade or thumb, it didn't even matter, and James was playing his nerves like a violin without even trying. He felt his erection scraping against the inside of the cast. It should have been painful, but he found himself trying to arch his hips up against it. To no avail; he was braced too securely.
"Stop squirming," James said, without breaking his rhythm.
Then he moved on, to the badly-scarred right cheek.
Now, the dance became intricate. Small, delicate cuts, measured in millimeters. He opened his eyes to see the James frowning in concentration, his lips slightly parted. His eyes intent.
For a moment, he thought -- hoped -- James would kiss him. But James just kept on with what he was doing, his hands steady, his focus absolute.
"Close your eyes," James whispered. "You're distracting me."
He obeyed. Let his other senses take over; he felt the cool of the blade and the warmth of the skin. Smelled the limes, almost tasted them, beyond the soapy taste of the foam. Heard his breath, James's breath, synchronized like they were making love.
The razor moved down, across the line of his jaw, and down onto his neck. Alec flinched when James put his free hand on his collarbone, to gently stretch the skin, as he continued the careful work.
James finished with the scarred, disrupted flesh, and moved the razor, pressed it against the other side of his throat for just a moment. Alec felt his breath catch; he imagined James pressing the blade in, letting his blood flow.
The moment passed. James went back to work, clearing the last of the hair from Alec's throat. Then he wiped the last of the shaving foam away, and then laid another towel, warm and damp, across his face.
He was grateful for the chance to rest. Catch his breath. Slow his breathing.
Let his erection subside.
He'd just started to slide into sleep, when James pulled the towel away, and started to smooth on aftershave. It stung, but only a bit -- enough to wake him up.
"Better?" James asked.
"Yes." He ran his hand over his face, and found it smooth. "Thank you."
"Of course." James leaned over him, and smoothed on even more aftershave. Unnecessary, but Alec wasn't going to complain, as the fingers trailed across his lips and traced his jawline. "You'd do the same for me."
Next Chapter