Initiation; Highlander, KMD
Jan. 20th, 2008 01:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparklebutchTitle: Initiation
Fandom: Highlander
Pairing: Kronos/Duncan, +
Prompt: dancing, from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
oxoniensis' Porn Battle V
Beta and responsibility:ceruleancat
Every step is like dancing; they circle each other, and just like in flamenco, it's the eyes that do most of the talking. Heated, dark gazes. The tension very nearly crackles between them; death, blood, mayhem... lust. Something strange about immortals, about how they choose to feel alive.
They meet in a kiss that hurts, all teeth and too much kinetic energy. Duncan closes his eyes on impact; Kronos doesn't. His hands tangle in long hair, grasping it to the point of pain. Duncan's own hands are on his opponent, where neck meets shoulders, holding tight. Opponent, not lover. Not yet.
It could look like wrestling to the casual observer. They push against each other, each struggling for a foothold, for a better grip. They're panting, Duncan's face heats up, Kronos shrugs off his leather jacket.
When they take each other's clothes off it's not done with tenderness. More like unwrapping an angry present who at the same time tries to kick and unwrap you. Kronos runs his fingers up Duncan's bare chest, and on the way back down they leave red marks. Duncan grabs his upper arms, and the pale flesh there bruises red and purple.
It's less of a fight when their bodies press flush together and their cocks line side by side. Their movements now are less violent; they glide together instead, building pressure rather than impact. Kronos' hands tighten on Duncan's buttocks almost painfully, no longer in anger but in need. He pulls the other man closer to him, closer still despite the fact there is no more space between them. With a growl, he tugs Duncan to the bed.
Still dancing, like mating snakes, Kronos on top and Duncan writhing beneath him. They kiss like they ache for each other. They touch like a starving man grasping at a mirage of a buffet, never getting his fill. And when Kronos finally pushes Duncan's strong thighs apart, it's done with such concentration that no anger can be found in the act.
Tight and resigned at first, Duncan soon opens up under skilled fingers, under the knowing touch of experience. Before long he's moaning, pushing back against Kronos' hand; his own hands stay by his sides through sheer willpower. His hair is wild around his face, lush dark frame stark against the white linen. He's rocking on the fingers inside him and calls out a name.
Kronos smirks. "That's understandable," he says. "But soon enough, you'll be screaming my name."
It might be a threat, might be a promise, but either way it makes Duncan swallow, working a suddenly-dry throat. Kronos climbs on him and they kiss, this time wet lips and tongue that caress in pleasure. Kronos slides inside Duncan's body, and the Highlander wraps his legs around the slighter frame, urging him on. Something feels as if a ritual has just ended, or perhaps one has just begun.
They rock together and the rhythm is bewitching, hypnotic. Duncan feels Kronos' hardness inside him and moves against it, his own cock straining for a touch. He leaves his mark in scratches all across Kronos' broad back.
The sex is hard, but in a way it feels like training sometimes does; pure muscle, no consciousness, and the pleasure that spikes up with each jab inside him. Duncan's moans grow louder as Kronos' thrusts grow fiercer, and eventually he cries out Kronos' name. It doesn't feel like giving in, it feels like letting go. It feels good. He says it again and again, driving Kronos on until the older, much older man cries out a few guttural words, unintelligible possibly even to himself, and comes with Duncan in his arms.
He rests with his forehead on Duncan's shoulder, content or maybe just catching his breath, until another voice calls his name. It's Methos, calling from the chair in which he's been sitting all along, watching and smirking and leaning forward, hands clutching at his sides. He did not touch himself, but he still manages to sound perfectly composed, and just a little condescending.
"Brother," he calls to Kronos, "in polite society, it's only considered fair to assist the one you're with."
Kronos chuckles against Duncan's chest and curses Methos' heritage with an eloquent but amused choice of words. To Duncan's surprise, the ancient man slides down his body to take his still-hard cock in his mouth, seemingly content to perform this act. Duncan gazes downwards to see his cock disappearing between those lips and a stray thought enters his mind; I hope he won't bite.
Kronos does nothing of the sort. He simply uses his tongue and very steady suction to bring Duncan over the edge, where he's been teetering for quite a while. The technique suggests this isn't his first time, either. Duncan shouts a warning and Kronos moves aside, finishing him off with a few expert strokes. Duncan feels ridiculously self-conscious when pale, stark eyes stare at him through his orgasm. As if he hadn't been watched, they hadn't been watched, all along.
Methos, over on the chair, claps slowly. "Very good." He grins. "Very good show indeed."
Kronos raises an eyebrow and sits up on the bed. Duncan's eyes follow the curve of his back, from neck downwards.
"Will you join us, brother?" he asks silkily.
Methos nods and climbs on the bed with his two lovers. He settles between them, looking from one to the other as if planning who to ravish first.
"Happy now, Methos?" Duncan asks. Kronos' eyes echo the question.
Methos' grin becomes wider, if such a thing is possible. "More than ever before," he purrs.
Fandom: Highlander
Pairing: Kronos/Duncan, +
Prompt: dancing, from
oxoniensis' Porn Battle VBeta and responsibility:
ceruleancatEvery step is like dancing; they circle each other, and just like in flamenco, it's the eyes that do most of the talking. Heated, dark gazes. The tension very nearly crackles between them; death, blood, mayhem... lust. Something strange about immortals, about how they choose to feel alive.
They meet in a kiss that hurts, all teeth and too much kinetic energy. Duncan closes his eyes on impact; Kronos doesn't. His hands tangle in long hair, grasping it to the point of pain. Duncan's own hands are on his opponent, where neck meets shoulders, holding tight. Opponent, not lover. Not yet.
It could look like wrestling to the casual observer. They push against each other, each struggling for a foothold, for a better grip. They're panting, Duncan's face heats up, Kronos shrugs off his leather jacket.
When they take each other's clothes off it's not done with tenderness. More like unwrapping an angry present who at the same time tries to kick and unwrap you. Kronos runs his fingers up Duncan's bare chest, and on the way back down they leave red marks. Duncan grabs his upper arms, and the pale flesh there bruises red and purple.
It's less of a fight when their bodies press flush together and their cocks line side by side. Their movements now are less violent; they glide together instead, building pressure rather than impact. Kronos' hands tighten on Duncan's buttocks almost painfully, no longer in anger but in need. He pulls the other man closer to him, closer still despite the fact there is no more space between them. With a growl, he tugs Duncan to the bed.
Still dancing, like mating snakes, Kronos on top and Duncan writhing beneath him. They kiss like they ache for each other. They touch like a starving man grasping at a mirage of a buffet, never getting his fill. And when Kronos finally pushes Duncan's strong thighs apart, it's done with such concentration that no anger can be found in the act.
Tight and resigned at first, Duncan soon opens up under skilled fingers, under the knowing touch of experience. Before long he's moaning, pushing back against Kronos' hand; his own hands stay by his sides through sheer willpower. His hair is wild around his face, lush dark frame stark against the white linen. He's rocking on the fingers inside him and calls out a name.
Kronos smirks. "That's understandable," he says. "But soon enough, you'll be screaming my name."
It might be a threat, might be a promise, but either way it makes Duncan swallow, working a suddenly-dry throat. Kronos climbs on him and they kiss, this time wet lips and tongue that caress in pleasure. Kronos slides inside Duncan's body, and the Highlander wraps his legs around the slighter frame, urging him on. Something feels as if a ritual has just ended, or perhaps one has just begun.
They rock together and the rhythm is bewitching, hypnotic. Duncan feels Kronos' hardness inside him and moves against it, his own cock straining for a touch. He leaves his mark in scratches all across Kronos' broad back.
The sex is hard, but in a way it feels like training sometimes does; pure muscle, no consciousness, and the pleasure that spikes up with each jab inside him. Duncan's moans grow louder as Kronos' thrusts grow fiercer, and eventually he cries out Kronos' name. It doesn't feel like giving in, it feels like letting go. It feels good. He says it again and again, driving Kronos on until the older, much older man cries out a few guttural words, unintelligible possibly even to himself, and comes with Duncan in his arms.
He rests with his forehead on Duncan's shoulder, content or maybe just catching his breath, until another voice calls his name. It's Methos, calling from the chair in which he's been sitting all along, watching and smirking and leaning forward, hands clutching at his sides. He did not touch himself, but he still manages to sound perfectly composed, and just a little condescending.
"Brother," he calls to Kronos, "in polite society, it's only considered fair to assist the one you're with."
Kronos chuckles against Duncan's chest and curses Methos' heritage with an eloquent but amused choice of words. To Duncan's surprise, the ancient man slides down his body to take his still-hard cock in his mouth, seemingly content to perform this act. Duncan gazes downwards to see his cock disappearing between those lips and a stray thought enters his mind; I hope he won't bite.
Kronos does nothing of the sort. He simply uses his tongue and very steady suction to bring Duncan over the edge, where he's been teetering for quite a while. The technique suggests this isn't his first time, either. Duncan shouts a warning and Kronos moves aside, finishing him off with a few expert strokes. Duncan feels ridiculously self-conscious when pale, stark eyes stare at him through his orgasm. As if he hadn't been watched, they hadn't been watched, all along.
Methos, over on the chair, claps slowly. "Very good." He grins. "Very good show indeed."
Kronos raises an eyebrow and sits up on the bed. Duncan's eyes follow the curve of his back, from neck downwards.
"Will you join us, brother?" he asks silkily.
Methos nods and climbs on the bed with his two lovers. He settles between them, looking from one to the other as if planning who to ravish first.
"Happy now, Methos?" Duncan asks. Kronos' eyes echo the question.
Methos' grin becomes wider, if such a thing is possible. "More than ever before," he purrs.
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no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 12:34 am (UTC)Wow. Dark Duncan. And the threesome on the way.
And appropriately rough and tumble. Lovely little ficlet.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 12:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 12:43 am (UTC)Even if my pup hated every bit of it. ;)
no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 12:50 am (UTC)Nah, I know. He hates to behave, and Duncan isn't big on dismemberment games...
no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 02:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 12:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 12:51 am (UTC)I don't even drink coffee. I don't do immies, either.
Glad you had funs!
no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 07:54 am (UTC)like unwrapping an angry present who at the same time tries to kick and unwrap you. Sabertooth kittens. *here, kitty-kitty-kitty*.
Mmmmm.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 12:40 pm (UTC)I really wish you'd take the sabertooth kittens idea and run wild with it.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 09:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 12:39 pm (UTC)And yeah, KMD should happen lots. Sometimes even seriously. With a plot and all.
Thanks :)
no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 01:13 pm (UTC)Some day, I'll get round to finishing the sequel to the M/K/D threesome in a crypt fic... some day *sigh*
no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 01:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 03:42 pm (UTC)In conclusion? Yay! ; D
no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 03:46 pm (UTC)Oh listen, ages ago you took and are still using (apparently) a "give head, don't take it: HL porn" icon that I made. I'm currently trying to make one of a similar nature, but prettier. If you'd be interested. It's harder with this new computer, but I have hope.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 06:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 03:44 pm (UTC)I keep making icons and not uploading them..