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fredbassettTitle : Complicated, Part 5 of 8
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Alex Rider
Rating : 15
Characters : Alex/Yassen
Word Count: 24,400
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : Against his better judgement, Alex agrees to do a job for MI6. A nice, simple job that doesn’t include power-crazed billionaires. Just righting a wrong that affects tens of thousands of teenagers. What could possibly go wrong? Then things get complicated. They always do where Alex is concerned.
A barely suppressed groan dragged Alex out of an uneasy sleep. And for once, the groan hadn’t come out of his own mouth.
He was attuned to the sound of coughing by now and knew when to be concerned and when to let the spasms run their course, but groans were new and Yassen wasn’t the sort of person to vocalise without good reason.
Alex tumbled out of bed and went to investigate.
In the other bedroom, Yassen has hunched over, his face was contorted in pain as he tried, without success, to reach his right calf with both hands.
“Cramp?”
A sharp hiss of indrawn breath was all the answer he got.
Alex swatted his hands away. “Lean back and let me deal with it. You can’t bend forward like that with broken ribs.”
He ran his hands down Yassen’s leg, feeling the corded muscle tight and hard under his fingers. He started to rub firmly with both hands, digging his thumbs into the knotted muscles, pressing hard until he could feel them start to loosen. In the dim light from the doorway, he could see that Yassen’s kneecap was puffy, but he’d have to deal with that later. For now, he needed to ease the pain from the cramp. As he worked, he could feel Yassen start to relax as the contorted muscles gradually eased.
Alex kept working on the knots. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to do this sort of work on Yassen’s damaged leg although this time the cramp was more widespread, easing while Alex was working on him but coming back with depressing regularity whenever Yassen tried to move.
“Do you need a piss?”
“Had one half an hour ago.”
“Without collapsing in a heap?”
“Clever, aren’t I?”
Alex lightly slapped Yassen’s naked thigh. “Sarky. Do you want to try walking it off?”
“That would be pushing my luck. I’ll quit while I’m ahead, if you don’t mind.”
“I can cope. Tell me where it hurts. I don’t have your ninja observation skills.”
“Peroneus longus.” The words came out through gritted teeth as another spasm hit Yassen hard.
“And again in English …”
“Outside calf muscle. Didn’t you pay any attention to Dr Three’s anatomy lessons?”
“I tried not to.” Alex went back to kneading the offending muscle until he felt Yassen start to relax for a moment until another sharp hiss told him a problem had started up elsewhere.
“Where now?”
“Same place.”
“Liar.” Alex slid his hands above Yassen’s knee, pushing the quilt aside. He didn’t need Yassen’s uncanny powers of observation to see the outer muscle running the length of the strong thigh contracting painfully under the scarred skin. Alex dug his thumbs in and started work, drawing another sharp hiss. “Shut up, it’s for your own good.”
“Dr Three would be proud of you.”
Alex shuddered. “No more reminders of him, please.” Three’s lessons had been the part of the Malagosto curriculum that Alex had liked the least. The man’s unrivalled academic and practical interest in pain still haunted some of his worst nightmares.
He dug his thumbs in hard and pushed up in a long sweep along Yassen’s thigh, feeling the leg muscles spasming under his hands. As he worked, he did his best to ignore the proximity of his fingers to Yassen’s groin. Alex dragged his eyes away from the tangle of dark hair that led upwards in a tantalising trail across the flat stomach to the shadowed hollow of Yassen’s belly button. Alex concentrated on the work of his hands and told his traitorous eyes that this was strictly a case of touch, don’t look.
“Where did you learn massage?”
“One of my flatmates is going out with the president of the Massage Soc at uni. She sorts us out after a hard climb or a long caving trip.”
Alex’s hands moved rhythmically over Yassen’s warm skin, feeling the hairs under his fingers, tracing the line of old scars, wanting to ask what had caused them but suspecting their fragile intimacy didn’t stretch that far. He pushed down another equally strong desire to continue the sweep of his fingers over Yassen’s hip bone and to run his fingertips through the curling hair and to touch the long slender cock.
The long slender cock that had now started to harden.
Surprised, Alex glanced up and his breath caught in his throat at the look of naked longing in Yassen’s eyes. He couldn’t remember anyone ever looking at him like that before, as though they’d just offered their heart to him on a silver platter. With all the reckless impulsiveness that had repeatedly landed him in hot water when he’d worked for MI6, Alex rested his right hand on Yassen’s cock and felt it jump under his fingers.
“Alex …” His name fell like a plea from Yassen’s lips.
“If you want me to stop, say so, but otherwise, don’t say anything,” Alex said, more harshly than he’d intended. “Just don’t say anything. And especially don’t bloody well lie to me because of some patronising belief that it’s for my own good. I’m not 14 any more.”
Yassen said nothing.
Alex watched as every shred of the protective armour Yassen had built up around himself simply fell away. He felt like he was seeing the man for the first time, utterly devoid of any defences and naked in every possible way under Alex’s gaze. Eyes that had stared expressionlessly down the barrel of every kind of lethal weapon the world had to offer were now wide open, beseeching him without words not to stop.
Alex slid his hand up the smooth skin of Yassen’s rapidly filling cock and pulled back the taut foreskin to expose a swollen head glistening with pre-come. Using just the tip of his index finger, he pressed it against the pink slit and then gently circled the tip.
Yassen drew in a sharp breath and promptly convulsed with a bone-deep cough.
Alex failed to fight down a laugh as he put his hands on Yassen’s shoulders, preventing him from doubling over. “Don’t fight it. Just lie back. You can have some more painkillers if you need them.”
Yassen muttered something in Russian that sounded rude then grimaced as the muscles in his leg contracted again. Alex watched in horrified fascination as the middle two toes on Yassen’s right foot started to cross entirely of their own accord.
“You could have just asked me to stop … no need for the amateur dramatics.” With a grin, Alex turned his attention back to Yassen’s lower leg. “Are you ticklish?”
“Nyet.”
“Good, because a foot in the face often offends.” Alex moved further down the bed and propped Yassen’s slender foot on his thigh as he started work his thumbs as hard as he could into the arch.
Yassen gasped and pushed into Alex’s grip. “Feels good …”
“Better than me stroking your dick?”
“Right now, yes; a minute ago, no.” Yassen coughed again and reached for a pillow to clasp to his chest.
“I really must buy you a teddy bear.”
Despite the pain, laughter danced in Yassen’s eyes. “I’ve never had a teddy bear.”
Alex forced his thumbs into Yassen’s instep, noting the hard skin on the heel and the ball of his foot in contrast to the smoother skin under the arch, and had the satisfaction of seeing the twisted toes start to uncross. Alex had experienced cramp like that a couple of times and knew exactly how excruciating it was. “Be careful what you wish for …” He started to straighten each toe in turn, pulling and rubbing, intoning, “This little piggy went to market …”
Yassen stared at him, confusion clearly written on his handsome face. And just when the fuck had he started to think of Yassen Gregorovich as handsome?
To cover that thought, Alex grinned in triumph. “You need to brush up on your cultural references, sunshine.” He tugged at Yassen’s second toe. “This little piggy stayed at home.” He turned his attention to the next in line, noticing the man’s neatly trimmed nails. “This little piggy ate roast chicken …” The slight jump under the muscles in Yassen’s ankle clued him in to another impending spasm and he promptly diverted his attention to heading it off at the pass before returning to the rhyme Jack had used to tickle a squirming seven-year-old who claimed to be too old for stuff like that. “This little piggy had none.”
“Piggy abuse,” Yassen commented. “There should be better aid for deprived piggies.”
That drew a surprised laugh. “You should do the humour thing more often, it suits you. I’ll spare you the line about the littlest piggy going wee wee wee all the way home in case it makes you want to piss. Will you be OK for a couple of minutes while I get you your tablets and a hot drink for your throat?”
Yassen nodded then asked with an almost boyishly hopeful expression, “Hot whisky?”
“We’re down to the good stuff again. Smithers’ll kill me if he finds out I’ve been feeding it to you loaded with sugar, honey and lemon.”
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
Alex privately thought there was very little Smithers didn’t know.
The kitchen clock proclaimed it to be 3.30am. Yassen was definitely overdue for his tablets now. Alex sighed as he warmed two thermos mugs, wondering what the fuck had prompted him to start stroking Yassen’s cock. They were stuck together for at least another week, probably more. Alex really didn’t need any more complications in his life than he’d already acquired isolating with a sick assassin, but the look of bone-deep longing in Yassen’s eyes had shaken him and he knew he wanted to see it again.
This time, Alex switched on the bedside lamp, turning it to no more than a warm golden glow, the same colour as the hot whisky.
“I want to see the look in your eyes when you come,” he said calmly once Yassen had successfully swallowed the tablets.
“Alex …”
“You had your chance to say no before. Do you want me to ask you again, just to be sure? But remember, no lies.”
“And no patronising.”
Alex took a mouthful of the hot whisky and felt the warmth rush to his stomach. Though he said it himself, he did make a hell of a good hot toddy. Mind you, the fifty quid a bottle single malt certainly helped. “Definitely no patronising. I’ll withdraw your whisky privileges if there’s any patronising. Now, where were we?” He shot Yassen’s limp cock an appraising glance and had the satisfaction of seeing it twitch.
“You were stroking my cock.” A slight cough escaped Yassen’s lips and Alex grinned at the look of frustration on the man’s face.
“We’ve got the rest of the night,” Alex said softly, resting his hand on Yassen’s stomach and stroking the thin trail of dark hair.
“We might need it if this fucking cough doesn’t stop.”
“And the cramp. Don’t forget the cramp.”
“Forgetting the cramp seems unlikely.”
Alex ran his hands lightly over the warm skin of Yassen’s chest, circling the scar all too close to the assassin’s heart, trying not to dwell on the memory of the blood that had seeped out between his fingers as he’d tried to keep pressure on the wound and push the life back into the broken body of the man who he thought had died trying to save him. A life for a life, Alex had believed at the time. The scar was in an almost identical position to the one that had nearly ended his own life.
From that scar he moved to another bullet wound in Yassen’s side. A clean in and out through flesh by the look of it. He wanted to know its story but didn’t want to break the mood.
The exploratory fingertips were already having an effect. Yassen’s cock was now very definitely starting to take an interest.
“Drink your whisky,” Alex instructed, pausing to take a mouthful of his own. “It’ll put hairs on your chest.”
“Do I need more?”
“Two out of ten for flirting. Must try harder.” He ran his hand over Yassen’s chest hair. “No, you don’t. If I wanted more hair, I’d adopt something from Battersea Dog’s Home. This is about right. Enough to play with but not too furry.” His questing hand dipped lower again, this time trailing a fingernail over a thin white scar on Yassen’s hip.
“Knife. Panama City,” Yassen offered. “I had to look like I’d been mugged. The idiot misjudged it and cut to the bone.”
Alex resisted the urge to run his tongue over the scar. Yassen still had a slight rabbit-in-the-headlights look and the explanation had the hallmark of Yassen’s habitual deflection when he was feeling emotionally uncomfortable. Alex didn’t want to spook him. Instead, he went back to stroking the now fully erect cock, wondering if this time he’d get further than simply pulling back Yassen’s foreskin and smearing pearly fluid around the head.
Yassen took a quick gulp of hot whisky, no doubt to stave off another cough.
With one hand drawing small circles around the flushed head, Alex slowly sipped his own drink and concentrated on slowly, methodically and relentlessly dismantling every single one of Yassen’s remaining defences. Maybe he had learnt something from Dr Three after all. He’d once heard it said that torturers made the best lovers, but that wasn’t a thought he wanted to explore with his hand wrapped around Yassen’s dick.
The way Yassen could go from blank poker face one moment to vulnerable and uncertain the next was deeply intoxicating. Alex didn’t regard himself as particularly experienced in bed. When he’d finally cut ties with MI6, he’d been plagued by nightmares, which hadn’t exactly been conducive to intimacy but his time at university had seen him lose his virginity with a female friend in the caving club at a party (it hadn’t lasted, but they’d parted on good terms) and then he’d gone out with one of the guys in the Krav Maga club for a few months (that hadn’t lasted either, but they still sparred together) and there had been a few other liaisons, none of them long term. And none of them had ever looked at him with the intensity shining in Yassen’s normally ice-cold eyes and it had gone to Alex’s head even more than the whisky.
“Tell me what you like.”
“Preferences can get you killed.” The amused smile on Yassen’s face drew an eye roll from Alex. “But since you ask, what you’re doing is perfect. Although I’m open to further suggestions …”
Alex circled the hard cock with his fingers and proceeded to draw them up and down in long, firm strokes across the silky skin.
Yassen gasped and bucked up into Alex’s fist.
“If you hurt your ribs and start coughing, I won’t be blamed.”
To Alex’s amusement, Yassen promptly took a large swallow of whisky to soothe his throat.
While lazily delivering a simple but effective hand-job, Alex finished his own drink, feeling a warm rush spreading through his body. He was fully hard now in his loose sleepwear and knew he was leaking as much pre-come as Yassen, but this wasn’t about him or his pleasure. He watched intently as Yassen’s pupils steadily dilated, learning exactly what caused the slight hitches in the other man’s breathing (a slight twist on the upstroke) and what prompted a low moan of satisfaction (cupping Yassen’s balls in his palm and stroking the sensitive skin in the crease of his thigh with his thumb).
Alex had never spent so long just touching anyone like this and watching their reactions. But then he’d never made out with anyone who had two broken ribs, a recently dislocated knee and a bad dose of coronavirus. He was always up for new experiences, but this was weird, even by his standards.
The look on Yassen’s face showed he had a pretty accurate idea of the direction his thoughts had drifted in. “Too weird?”
“Stop doing that mind reading thing. It’s faintly creepy. And no, it’s just weird enough, thank you. Now concentrate on what I’m doing, I want to watch you come.”
His hand twisted again on the upstroke and he swiped his thumb over Yassen’s leaking slit, drawing a gasp followed by the sort of moan that Alex had never imagined he’d hear outside of one of Tom’s porno movies. Slicking his fingers with Yassen’s pre-come, Alex dropped any pretence of taking this slowly and proceeded to work the hard cock with one hand while gently but firmly running his hand over Yassen’s chest and skimming lightly over the pebbled nipples.
Yassen’s eyelashes fluttered like the wings of a nervous bird, but his eyes never left Alex’s face as his cock pulsed in the encircling fingers, sending ropes of thick come over his stomach. Alex watched as the slight tension drained out of Yassen’s body and the unrestrained pleasure on his face cancelled out long years in a dirty business, giving Alex some idea of what he must have looked like when he’d first joined Scorpia.
Alex stroked sticky fingers over Yassen’s stomach, hyper-aware of the aftershocks of climax running through the toned muscles. For once in his life, Alex had no desire to make a smartarsed comment as he lost himself in warm eyes that promised the world and held nothing back.
He knew without needing to be told he’d just experienced the unique sight of Yassen Gregorovich with his defences lowered wholly and willingly. That was not a gift he’d ever expected to receive. And it was not a gift he entirely knew what to do with, but it wasn’t one he felt inclined to reject.
“Will you stay?” Yassen’s voice was as soft as the sound of an owl in flight.
Alex smiled as he reached for a handful of tissues. “If you want me to.”
He quickly cleaned the come from Yassen’s stomach, wiped his hands and shimmied out of his cotton sleep pants to reveal his own erection. He slid into the other side of the bed, pressed himself up against Yassen’s side and looped an arm around his waist. “Now go to sleep.”
Instead, Yassen’s fingers sought out Alex’s cock under the duvet. “Not just yet.”
Alex felt a bolt of pure pleasure hit him with the force of a lightning strike. To his embarrassment, he came out with the sort of noise he associated with a surprised kitten.
Yassen pushed the duvet down to Alex’s waist and murmured, “Do you object to me watching you come?”
“Seems only fair,” Alex said, resting his head against Yassen’s shoulder and watching with rapt attention as the long, gun callused fingers proceeded to caress him with maddeningly light strokes.
Alex couldn’t remember when anything had last felt this good. As myriad butterflies danced an impromptu jig in his stomach, he stretched out like a cat and allowed himself to hope that Yassen could stave off his next coughing fit and attack of leg cramps for just a little while longer.
Tendrils of pleasure wound their way up his body like swiftly spreading vines, wrapping him from head to foot in warmth and lethargy as he relaxed under Yassen’s touch and let sensation overtake conscious thought.
Yassen seemed to know by instinct what Alex liked, unerringly alternating hard drags with softer, teasing caresses, dipping lower to skim his sensitive balls and to stroke the even more sensitive skin that lay behind them. In the past, touching like this had always been nothing more than often hurried foreplay, but now, as the main event, Alex found himself revelling in the simple pleasure of a hand on his dick that wasn’t at the end of his own arm, and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer …
The light scrape of nail along his slit set liquid fire alight in his balls as they tightened and a heartbeat later Alex came in a hot rush as a wave of pleasure crashed through him in a climax more intense than anything he’d ever experienced that hadn’t involved a very large and very destructive explosion.
As he rode the wave, he felt the light brush of Yassen’s lips on his forehead in an almost chase kiss.
“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than your face in that moment,” Yassen murmured. He trailed his fingertips through the pool of come Alex had left on his stomach and brought his fingers to his lips and delicately licked them clean.
Alex’s eyes widened. “Christ on a bike, that’s hotter than it has any right to be.”
The devil danced in Yassen’s eyes as he did it again. “I wanted to taste you.”
Feeling distinctly like he’d missed a trick, Alex grinned. “Be my guest,” he offered, and watched as Yassen proceeded to mop up every drop that Alex had spilled onto him.
When Yassen had sucked the last drops from his fingertips, Alex pressed a kiss to his shoulder before sliding into a deep and untroubled sleep, only dimly conscious of the duvet being pulled up around his shoulders.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Alex Rider
Rating : 15
Characters : Alex/Yassen
Word Count: 24,400
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : Against his better judgement, Alex agrees to do a job for MI6. A nice, simple job that doesn’t include power-crazed billionaires. Just righting a wrong that affects tens of thousands of teenagers. What could possibly go wrong? Then things get complicated. They always do where Alex is concerned.
A barely suppressed groan dragged Alex out of an uneasy sleep. And for once, the groan hadn’t come out of his own mouth.
He was attuned to the sound of coughing by now and knew when to be concerned and when to let the spasms run their course, but groans were new and Yassen wasn’t the sort of person to vocalise without good reason.
Alex tumbled out of bed and went to investigate.
In the other bedroom, Yassen has hunched over, his face was contorted in pain as he tried, without success, to reach his right calf with both hands.
“Cramp?”
A sharp hiss of indrawn breath was all the answer he got.
Alex swatted his hands away. “Lean back and let me deal with it. You can’t bend forward like that with broken ribs.”
He ran his hands down Yassen’s leg, feeling the corded muscle tight and hard under his fingers. He started to rub firmly with both hands, digging his thumbs into the knotted muscles, pressing hard until he could feel them start to loosen. In the dim light from the doorway, he could see that Yassen’s kneecap was puffy, but he’d have to deal with that later. For now, he needed to ease the pain from the cramp. As he worked, he could feel Yassen start to relax as the contorted muscles gradually eased.
Alex kept working on the knots. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to do this sort of work on Yassen’s damaged leg although this time the cramp was more widespread, easing while Alex was working on him but coming back with depressing regularity whenever Yassen tried to move.
“Do you need a piss?”
“Had one half an hour ago.”
“Without collapsing in a heap?”
“Clever, aren’t I?”
Alex lightly slapped Yassen’s naked thigh. “Sarky. Do you want to try walking it off?”
“That would be pushing my luck. I’ll quit while I’m ahead, if you don’t mind.”
“I can cope. Tell me where it hurts. I don’t have your ninja observation skills.”
“Peroneus longus.” The words came out through gritted teeth as another spasm hit Yassen hard.
“And again in English …”
“Outside calf muscle. Didn’t you pay any attention to Dr Three’s anatomy lessons?”
“I tried not to.” Alex went back to kneading the offending muscle until he felt Yassen start to relax for a moment until another sharp hiss told him a problem had started up elsewhere.
“Where now?”
“Same place.”
“Liar.” Alex slid his hands above Yassen’s knee, pushing the quilt aside. He didn’t need Yassen’s uncanny powers of observation to see the outer muscle running the length of the strong thigh contracting painfully under the scarred skin. Alex dug his thumbs in and started work, drawing another sharp hiss. “Shut up, it’s for your own good.”
“Dr Three would be proud of you.”
Alex shuddered. “No more reminders of him, please.” Three’s lessons had been the part of the Malagosto curriculum that Alex had liked the least. The man’s unrivalled academic and practical interest in pain still haunted some of his worst nightmares.
He dug his thumbs in hard and pushed up in a long sweep along Yassen’s thigh, feeling the leg muscles spasming under his hands. As he worked, he did his best to ignore the proximity of his fingers to Yassen’s groin. Alex dragged his eyes away from the tangle of dark hair that led upwards in a tantalising trail across the flat stomach to the shadowed hollow of Yassen’s belly button. Alex concentrated on the work of his hands and told his traitorous eyes that this was strictly a case of touch, don’t look.
“Where did you learn massage?”
“One of my flatmates is going out with the president of the Massage Soc at uni. She sorts us out after a hard climb or a long caving trip.”
Alex’s hands moved rhythmically over Yassen’s warm skin, feeling the hairs under his fingers, tracing the line of old scars, wanting to ask what had caused them but suspecting their fragile intimacy didn’t stretch that far. He pushed down another equally strong desire to continue the sweep of his fingers over Yassen’s hip bone and to run his fingertips through the curling hair and to touch the long slender cock.
The long slender cock that had now started to harden.
Surprised, Alex glanced up and his breath caught in his throat at the look of naked longing in Yassen’s eyes. He couldn’t remember anyone ever looking at him like that before, as though they’d just offered their heart to him on a silver platter. With all the reckless impulsiveness that had repeatedly landed him in hot water when he’d worked for MI6, Alex rested his right hand on Yassen’s cock and felt it jump under his fingers.
“Alex …” His name fell like a plea from Yassen’s lips.
“If you want me to stop, say so, but otherwise, don’t say anything,” Alex said, more harshly than he’d intended. “Just don’t say anything. And especially don’t bloody well lie to me because of some patronising belief that it’s for my own good. I’m not 14 any more.”
Yassen said nothing.
Alex watched as every shred of the protective armour Yassen had built up around himself simply fell away. He felt like he was seeing the man for the first time, utterly devoid of any defences and naked in every possible way under Alex’s gaze. Eyes that had stared expressionlessly down the barrel of every kind of lethal weapon the world had to offer were now wide open, beseeching him without words not to stop.
Alex slid his hand up the smooth skin of Yassen’s rapidly filling cock and pulled back the taut foreskin to expose a swollen head glistening with pre-come. Using just the tip of his index finger, he pressed it against the pink slit and then gently circled the tip.
Yassen drew in a sharp breath and promptly convulsed with a bone-deep cough.
Alex failed to fight down a laugh as he put his hands on Yassen’s shoulders, preventing him from doubling over. “Don’t fight it. Just lie back. You can have some more painkillers if you need them.”
Yassen muttered something in Russian that sounded rude then grimaced as the muscles in his leg contracted again. Alex watched in horrified fascination as the middle two toes on Yassen’s right foot started to cross entirely of their own accord.
“You could have just asked me to stop … no need for the amateur dramatics.” With a grin, Alex turned his attention back to Yassen’s lower leg. “Are you ticklish?”
“Nyet.”
“Good, because a foot in the face often offends.” Alex moved further down the bed and propped Yassen’s slender foot on his thigh as he started work his thumbs as hard as he could into the arch.
Yassen gasped and pushed into Alex’s grip. “Feels good …”
“Better than me stroking your dick?”
“Right now, yes; a minute ago, no.” Yassen coughed again and reached for a pillow to clasp to his chest.
“I really must buy you a teddy bear.”
Despite the pain, laughter danced in Yassen’s eyes. “I’ve never had a teddy bear.”
Alex forced his thumbs into Yassen’s instep, noting the hard skin on the heel and the ball of his foot in contrast to the smoother skin under the arch, and had the satisfaction of seeing the twisted toes start to uncross. Alex had experienced cramp like that a couple of times and knew exactly how excruciating it was. “Be careful what you wish for …” He started to straighten each toe in turn, pulling and rubbing, intoning, “This little piggy went to market …”
Yassen stared at him, confusion clearly written on his handsome face. And just when the fuck had he started to think of Yassen Gregorovich as handsome?
To cover that thought, Alex grinned in triumph. “You need to brush up on your cultural references, sunshine.” He tugged at Yassen’s second toe. “This little piggy stayed at home.” He turned his attention to the next in line, noticing the man’s neatly trimmed nails. “This little piggy ate roast chicken …” The slight jump under the muscles in Yassen’s ankle clued him in to another impending spasm and he promptly diverted his attention to heading it off at the pass before returning to the rhyme Jack had used to tickle a squirming seven-year-old who claimed to be too old for stuff like that. “This little piggy had none.”
“Piggy abuse,” Yassen commented. “There should be better aid for deprived piggies.”
That drew a surprised laugh. “You should do the humour thing more often, it suits you. I’ll spare you the line about the littlest piggy going wee wee wee all the way home in case it makes you want to piss. Will you be OK for a couple of minutes while I get you your tablets and a hot drink for your throat?”
Yassen nodded then asked with an almost boyishly hopeful expression, “Hot whisky?”
“We’re down to the good stuff again. Smithers’ll kill me if he finds out I’ve been feeding it to you loaded with sugar, honey and lemon.”
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
Alex privately thought there was very little Smithers didn’t know.
The kitchen clock proclaimed it to be 3.30am. Yassen was definitely overdue for his tablets now. Alex sighed as he warmed two thermos mugs, wondering what the fuck had prompted him to start stroking Yassen’s cock. They were stuck together for at least another week, probably more. Alex really didn’t need any more complications in his life than he’d already acquired isolating with a sick assassin, but the look of bone-deep longing in Yassen’s eyes had shaken him and he knew he wanted to see it again.
This time, Alex switched on the bedside lamp, turning it to no more than a warm golden glow, the same colour as the hot whisky.
“I want to see the look in your eyes when you come,” he said calmly once Yassen had successfully swallowed the tablets.
“Alex …”
“You had your chance to say no before. Do you want me to ask you again, just to be sure? But remember, no lies.”
“And no patronising.”
Alex took a mouthful of the hot whisky and felt the warmth rush to his stomach. Though he said it himself, he did make a hell of a good hot toddy. Mind you, the fifty quid a bottle single malt certainly helped. “Definitely no patronising. I’ll withdraw your whisky privileges if there’s any patronising. Now, where were we?” He shot Yassen’s limp cock an appraising glance and had the satisfaction of seeing it twitch.
“You were stroking my cock.” A slight cough escaped Yassen’s lips and Alex grinned at the look of frustration on the man’s face.
“We’ve got the rest of the night,” Alex said softly, resting his hand on Yassen’s stomach and stroking the thin trail of dark hair.
“We might need it if this fucking cough doesn’t stop.”
“And the cramp. Don’t forget the cramp.”
“Forgetting the cramp seems unlikely.”
Alex ran his hands lightly over the warm skin of Yassen’s chest, circling the scar all too close to the assassin’s heart, trying not to dwell on the memory of the blood that had seeped out between his fingers as he’d tried to keep pressure on the wound and push the life back into the broken body of the man who he thought had died trying to save him. A life for a life, Alex had believed at the time. The scar was in an almost identical position to the one that had nearly ended his own life.
From that scar he moved to another bullet wound in Yassen’s side. A clean in and out through flesh by the look of it. He wanted to know its story but didn’t want to break the mood.
The exploratory fingertips were already having an effect. Yassen’s cock was now very definitely starting to take an interest.
“Drink your whisky,” Alex instructed, pausing to take a mouthful of his own. “It’ll put hairs on your chest.”
“Do I need more?”
“Two out of ten for flirting. Must try harder.” He ran his hand over Yassen’s chest hair. “No, you don’t. If I wanted more hair, I’d adopt something from Battersea Dog’s Home. This is about right. Enough to play with but not too furry.” His questing hand dipped lower again, this time trailing a fingernail over a thin white scar on Yassen’s hip.
“Knife. Panama City,” Yassen offered. “I had to look like I’d been mugged. The idiot misjudged it and cut to the bone.”
Alex resisted the urge to run his tongue over the scar. Yassen still had a slight rabbit-in-the-headlights look and the explanation had the hallmark of Yassen’s habitual deflection when he was feeling emotionally uncomfortable. Alex didn’t want to spook him. Instead, he went back to stroking the now fully erect cock, wondering if this time he’d get further than simply pulling back Yassen’s foreskin and smearing pearly fluid around the head.
Yassen took a quick gulp of hot whisky, no doubt to stave off another cough.
With one hand drawing small circles around the flushed head, Alex slowly sipped his own drink and concentrated on slowly, methodically and relentlessly dismantling every single one of Yassen’s remaining defences. Maybe he had learnt something from Dr Three after all. He’d once heard it said that torturers made the best lovers, but that wasn’t a thought he wanted to explore with his hand wrapped around Yassen’s dick.
The way Yassen could go from blank poker face one moment to vulnerable and uncertain the next was deeply intoxicating. Alex didn’t regard himself as particularly experienced in bed. When he’d finally cut ties with MI6, he’d been plagued by nightmares, which hadn’t exactly been conducive to intimacy but his time at university had seen him lose his virginity with a female friend in the caving club at a party (it hadn’t lasted, but they’d parted on good terms) and then he’d gone out with one of the guys in the Krav Maga club for a few months (that hadn’t lasted either, but they still sparred together) and there had been a few other liaisons, none of them long term. And none of them had ever looked at him with the intensity shining in Yassen’s normally ice-cold eyes and it had gone to Alex’s head even more than the whisky.
“Tell me what you like.”
“Preferences can get you killed.” The amused smile on Yassen’s face drew an eye roll from Alex. “But since you ask, what you’re doing is perfect. Although I’m open to further suggestions …”
Alex circled the hard cock with his fingers and proceeded to draw them up and down in long, firm strokes across the silky skin.
Yassen gasped and bucked up into Alex’s fist.
“If you hurt your ribs and start coughing, I won’t be blamed.”
To Alex’s amusement, Yassen promptly took a large swallow of whisky to soothe his throat.
While lazily delivering a simple but effective hand-job, Alex finished his own drink, feeling a warm rush spreading through his body. He was fully hard now in his loose sleepwear and knew he was leaking as much pre-come as Yassen, but this wasn’t about him or his pleasure. He watched intently as Yassen’s pupils steadily dilated, learning exactly what caused the slight hitches in the other man’s breathing (a slight twist on the upstroke) and what prompted a low moan of satisfaction (cupping Yassen’s balls in his palm and stroking the sensitive skin in the crease of his thigh with his thumb).
Alex had never spent so long just touching anyone like this and watching their reactions. But then he’d never made out with anyone who had two broken ribs, a recently dislocated knee and a bad dose of coronavirus. He was always up for new experiences, but this was weird, even by his standards.
The look on Yassen’s face showed he had a pretty accurate idea of the direction his thoughts had drifted in. “Too weird?”
“Stop doing that mind reading thing. It’s faintly creepy. And no, it’s just weird enough, thank you. Now concentrate on what I’m doing, I want to watch you come.”
His hand twisted again on the upstroke and he swiped his thumb over Yassen’s leaking slit, drawing a gasp followed by the sort of moan that Alex had never imagined he’d hear outside of one of Tom’s porno movies. Slicking his fingers with Yassen’s pre-come, Alex dropped any pretence of taking this slowly and proceeded to work the hard cock with one hand while gently but firmly running his hand over Yassen’s chest and skimming lightly over the pebbled nipples.
Yassen’s eyelashes fluttered like the wings of a nervous bird, but his eyes never left Alex’s face as his cock pulsed in the encircling fingers, sending ropes of thick come over his stomach. Alex watched as the slight tension drained out of Yassen’s body and the unrestrained pleasure on his face cancelled out long years in a dirty business, giving Alex some idea of what he must have looked like when he’d first joined Scorpia.
Alex stroked sticky fingers over Yassen’s stomach, hyper-aware of the aftershocks of climax running through the toned muscles. For once in his life, Alex had no desire to make a smartarsed comment as he lost himself in warm eyes that promised the world and held nothing back.
He knew without needing to be told he’d just experienced the unique sight of Yassen Gregorovich with his defences lowered wholly and willingly. That was not a gift he’d ever expected to receive. And it was not a gift he entirely knew what to do with, but it wasn’t one he felt inclined to reject.
“Will you stay?” Yassen’s voice was as soft as the sound of an owl in flight.
Alex smiled as he reached for a handful of tissues. “If you want me to.”
He quickly cleaned the come from Yassen’s stomach, wiped his hands and shimmied out of his cotton sleep pants to reveal his own erection. He slid into the other side of the bed, pressed himself up against Yassen’s side and looped an arm around his waist. “Now go to sleep.”
Instead, Yassen’s fingers sought out Alex’s cock under the duvet. “Not just yet.”
Alex felt a bolt of pure pleasure hit him with the force of a lightning strike. To his embarrassment, he came out with the sort of noise he associated with a surprised kitten.
Yassen pushed the duvet down to Alex’s waist and murmured, “Do you object to me watching you come?”
“Seems only fair,” Alex said, resting his head against Yassen’s shoulder and watching with rapt attention as the long, gun callused fingers proceeded to caress him with maddeningly light strokes.
Alex couldn’t remember when anything had last felt this good. As myriad butterflies danced an impromptu jig in his stomach, he stretched out like a cat and allowed himself to hope that Yassen could stave off his next coughing fit and attack of leg cramps for just a little while longer.
Tendrils of pleasure wound their way up his body like swiftly spreading vines, wrapping him from head to foot in warmth and lethargy as he relaxed under Yassen’s touch and let sensation overtake conscious thought.
Yassen seemed to know by instinct what Alex liked, unerringly alternating hard drags with softer, teasing caresses, dipping lower to skim his sensitive balls and to stroke the even more sensitive skin that lay behind them. In the past, touching like this had always been nothing more than often hurried foreplay, but now, as the main event, Alex found himself revelling in the simple pleasure of a hand on his dick that wasn’t at the end of his own arm, and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer …
The light scrape of nail along his slit set liquid fire alight in his balls as they tightened and a heartbeat later Alex came in a hot rush as a wave of pleasure crashed through him in a climax more intense than anything he’d ever experienced that hadn’t involved a very large and very destructive explosion.
As he rode the wave, he felt the light brush of Yassen’s lips on his forehead in an almost chase kiss.
“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than your face in that moment,” Yassen murmured. He trailed his fingertips through the pool of come Alex had left on his stomach and brought his fingers to his lips and delicately licked them clean.
Alex’s eyes widened. “Christ on a bike, that’s hotter than it has any right to be.”
The devil danced in Yassen’s eyes as he did it again. “I wanted to taste you.”
Feeling distinctly like he’d missed a trick, Alex grinned. “Be my guest,” he offered, and watched as Yassen proceeded to mop up every drop that Alex had spilled onto him.
When Yassen had sucked the last drops from his fingertips, Alex pressed a kiss to his shoulder before sliding into a deep and untroubled sleep, only dimly conscious of the duvet being pulled up around his shoulders.
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Date: 2021-02-06 09:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-02-07 05:14 pm (UTC)