fredbassett | Fic, Don't Try This At Home, Children, Alex/Yassen, 18

Title : Don’t Try This At Home, Children
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Alex Rider
Rating : 18
Characters : Alex/Yassen
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Warning/Advert : gun!kink
Summary : Alex is 24, but instead of being out on Saturday night pubbing or clubbing, he’s at home in bed with only his own hand for company. Until someone decides to break into his house …
A/N : This was written ages ago as part of a comment porn on the Adult Riders Discord. I’ve added a new intro and tidied it up for posting. I can’t remember who else was on the original thread, but if you let me know, I’ll acknowledge! This part is all my own work.

Most people in London in their early 20s were out on the town on Saturday night, drinking with friends in a pub, or writhing on a sticky dance floor in a dark, noisy club, doing their best to pick someone up, or get picked up.

Either way, they wouldn’t be sprawled out in their own bed, knackered from saving the world from the psychotic billionaire of the week then suffering the indignity of having to spend four hours in a debrief with Jones and Blunt before getting reamed out for blowing his expense account – quite literally - sky high, along with an ugly concrete and stripped wood monstrosity in the Cotswolds that wouldn’t have won any prizes on Grand Designs and had probably cost a fortune in bribes to the local planners.

He'd been too fucking exhausted even to take up Tom’s offer of pizza and a daft movie. All he’s wanted to do was neck a couple of beers on an empty stomach and then stagger off to bed for a solitary wank.

The drag of his own gun-calloused palm on his cock had been good, especially when he slicked the fingers of his other hand and buried them as far as he could in his own arse. He’d fucked himself to a lonely climax in his own hand then collapsed panting onto his stomach, head buried in one pillow, with another under his hips.

It had been good, but on a Saturday night, he’d rather hoped for more.

Maybe he should just tell MI6 to stuff their job where the sun doesn’t shine and go back to uni …

A sudden danger sense pricked at the ragged edge of Alex’s consciousness. A slight change in air pressure, an almost imperceptible sound … just something that set a great big red flag flying in his head as he came down from his climax.

Before he could react, Alex felt the cold drag of a gun barrel down his spine.

He stiffened. If someone capable of getting through his defences wanted him dead, then he’d already be dead. Or unconscious, awaiting transportation to an even worse fate.

The gun barrel scraped down his oversensitive flesh from his neck to the cleft of his arse, then stopped and described a small, perfect circle in the small hollow at the base of his spine. A featherlight caress that promised so much.

Then it was gone, and he groaned in frustration.

“Patience, little one.” The man’s voice was like rough silk on his skin and in response, Alex spread his legs wider, invitingly.

He wanted to be fucked. And fucked hard. It had been five months since he;d last had a dick inside him. Five long months of nothing more than fucking his own hand and stuffing his own fingers up his arse.

He heard the sound of metal on metal, something being screwed together, then the barrel of the gun was on his skin again, hard and unyielding as it scraped down his lower back and into his arse crack.

The cold metal probed at his hole, and Alex was glad he’d taken the time to prep himself for his own hand because he wasn’t going to get that degree of consideration from his visitor.

“Relax,” the man murmured, pressing the gun against his tight hole.

“You’re about to stick a gun up my arse, how relaxed would you be in my position?” he ground out.

The man’s low laugh sent shivers chasing their way up Alex’s spine. “To be precise, I’m about to stick a suppressed Stechkin APB up your arse. You’re less likely to tear that way. As you no doubt learned at Malagosto, this weapon is capable of single shot and full automatic fire.”

Alex's shivers turned to a full-body shudder as the barrel of the suppressor pressed against his tight rim. It hurt, even without a front sight to rip his sensitive flesh. He tensed. He couldn’t help it. It fucking hurt.

Alex bit back a whine and forced himself to relax.

The hard metal suddenly breached him, sliding in, the feel of it like nothing Alex had ever imagined.

He gasped and tensed as the unyielding metal was pushed deep into his tight channel.

He lay there, not daring to move as the man started to fuck him with the suppressor. Did the bastard have his finger on the trigger?

Despite the pain, Alex could feel his cock start to harden again, trapped between his belly and the damp pillow.

The barrel went deeper with every thrust, sending sparks of pain-pleasure-pain through his body. Then it grazed something inside him and the sparks ignited, driving white hot pleasure into his dick. He was fully hard now and pushing back for more.

He wanted this more than he’d ever wanted anything.

“Can you take more, little Alex?”

The gun was slowly withdrawn, leaving Alex moaning and writhing on the bed as his hole closed. He wanted it back. He wanted to be fucked with it, hard and fast.

“Yes.” He turned his head, looking over his shoulder.

The man’s eyes were dark with amusement as he saw Alex take in the fact that yes, there was a finger on the trigger. A moment later, the intruder changed his grip on the pistol, dropped out the magazine and showed it to Alex. Loaded. The Grach was definitely loaded. The magazine was pressed back into place and the metallic click sent a shiver through Alex’s body. Then the barrel was raked down his spine again and, without warning, shoved back deep into his body, breaching him again.

This time the man set up a punishing pace. Alex could feel every centimetre of the drag and thrust in his body. The metal raked his prostate every time now, the line between pleasure and pain quickly crossed, but in which direction, Alex couldn’t say. All he knew was that he wanted more. He wanted to come – needed to come – so fucking badly. And he still needed more …

“It would be unwise to move too much,” the man said. “The trigger pressure on this weapon is light. Can you stay still while you climax? Now might be a good time to test your self-control. Fail, and you night not get another chance.”

The words hit with the force a bucket of iced water. Alex had never managed to stay still while he climaxed – or stay quiet, for that matter. With an effort of will he didn’t even know he possessed, Alex forced himself to lie quiescent under the assault of the hard metal in his arse. He clutched the sheets in his sweat-slicked hands and tried not to writhe. Every muscle in his body was now unbearably tense with the effort of remaining still.

As the barrel of the suppressor drove deep inside him, dragging against the sensitive bundle of nerves, Alex could feel himself being driven to the point of no return. For a heartbeat, everything stopped. All he could feel was the pressure deep inside him, deeper than he’d ever taken anything before, then the Grach was pushed even further into his unresisting body and Alex felt himself coming apart as his climax ripped through him with the force of a bullet to the guts.

He cried out, but held himself immobile, every muscle hard and tense, strung as tight as a hunting bow. He could feel his cock pulsing under him and fought the urge just to push back and fuck himself through his orgasm on the gun barrel and to hell with the danger, but some miniscule sense of self-preservation stopped him from acting on that impulse and he forced himself to lie there, clenching and unclenching around the hard metal that was now sliding slowly in and out of his spasming body.

Alex could feel the man’s warm breath on the back of his neck and an amused voice said, “Did you enjoy that, little Alex?”

The first time the man had used his name had barely registered. This time it hit Alex squarely between the eyes, but he was too far gone to question, too far gone to care.

“What do you think?” he gasped.

The gun was slowly withdrawn from his tender arse and Alex groaned at the loss.

“What do I think?” Yassen Gregorovich made no attempt to disguise his amusement. “I think next time I’ll leave the safety catch off, no?”