New Card - First Story...
17/7/11 11:05![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Whatever You Have To Do
Author:
telaryn
Word Count: 1046
Fandom: Leverage, SPN
Characters: Dean/Eliot
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Drugs, dub-con, masturbation
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit obtained.
Summary: Captured while on a hunt together, Dean and Eliot are drugged and locked up together to ride out the effects.
Author's Note: Written for
angst_bingo, for the prompt "sex pollen". Hey - I just go with the prompts I'm given! *g*
Warm…too warm… Dean came awake writhing, his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. “Fuck,” he groaned; his hand slid down to cup his erection. The added pressure gave him no relief whatsoever - his eyelids fluttered and his back arched against the concrete floor, as the feeling of every nerve ending in his body firing at once ripped through him.
They’d been captured and forced to their knees. Masks had been placed over their noses and mouths; Dean had struggled violently, but not before a sickly-sweet substance had been forced into his lungs and sinus cavity. His last clear memory before darkness overwhelmed him completely had been Eliot breaking the neck of one of their human captors.
Eliot… Forcing his hand away from his cock, Dean looked around the small enclosure – trying to locate his friend.
He finally saw him on his knees at the room’s only door. Eliot's forehead was pressed against the smooth metal; his hand gripping the knob tight enough for the skin around his knuckles to go white. Dean’s eyes were drawn inexorably to the other man’s ass, imagining what it would look like free of the jeans…how it would feel…fingers digging into flesh…thrusting into him with hard, even strokes…hearing him moan with pleasure…feeling the tightness squeezing his own cock…
“No,” he whimpered, pressing clenched fists against his eyes and willing the image away. When he lowered his hands, Eliot was looking at him. The other man’s face was flushed, his expression strained. His long hair was dark with sweat, hanging over most of his face.
“Dean,” he said, his voice a rough growl. “What…what the hell?” A shudder rippled through him, and Dean imagined he saw Eliot’s thighs tense. “What happened?”
“We’ve been drugged,” he said. “Hunters call it ‘sex pollen’. Depending on the dose, it can work on the human body as long as twelve to fourteen hours…ah!” He moaned as he struggled to his feet, and his cock rubbed against the fabric of his jeans. “God…” When he could think straight again he asked, “We’re locked in, right?”
Eliot had collapsed into a sitting position, with his back against the door now. His eyes were half-closed, and he was running his hand across his own cock. “Yeah,” he breathed. “How big a dose do you think we took?”
Dean licked his dry lips and tried to reexamine what he remembered through the filter of new information. “Big,” he admitted finally. He squeezed his cock lightly, trying to maintain some control over the situation and keep from undoing his own fly. “Really big. You need to stop trying to get us out of here.”
“What?” Eliot’s breathing was ragged – his voice hoarse. “Why?”
Dean half-collapsed into a rickety metal chair, crying out as the impact sent another jolt of pleasure through his body. “Whoever infected us wants to set us on each other, right?” he asked when his vision cleared.
Now it was Eliot’s turn to lick his lips. He nodded quickly. “Right.”
Dean closed his eyes briefly, fighting off a fresh image of himself kneeling in front of a naked Eliot…the other man’s hand fisted in his hair...his hard cock sliding across Dean’s tongue… “What do you think you’re going to do if you get out of here?” he asked when he could trust himself to look at Eliot again.
“Anything but you,” Eliot said with a wry chuckle. “Seriously man – we need to get as far away from each other as we can. Ride this out.”
While he didn’t disagree with Eliot’s plan in theory, Dean had more experience thinking out the full implications of supernatural traps like this. “Tell me,” he said, forcing eye contact with his friend, “what do you think you’d do if you ran into some innocent bystander while you’re trying to get away from me?”
“I wouldn’t…” Eliot began, but Dean could tell he was starting to think through the possibilities and didn’t like what they meant.
Smiling ruefully, Dean shook his head. “Trust me – you would. What you’re feeling now is nothing compared to what you’re going to be like in a couple hours.” Thumbing open the button on his jeans, he pulled the zipper down and slipped his hand inside his pants. “God...” he groaned softly; the increased contact gave him no relief – merely pushed his body ever closer to orgasm.
“There’s nothing else we can do?” Eliot asked. He had his own jeans undone now, and was pushing fabric over his hips and down his thighs.
Dean ran the pad of his thumb across the leaking slit in the end of his cock, smearing precum across the head. “Promise each other that whatever happens in here stays in here.” He worked the band of his underwear down one handed, until he could wrap his fingers around the length of his shaft. Three good, firm strokes, and he felt his balls tighten…his muscles tense…oh God…
The world went white around him as Dean came in a thick spill over his fist. “Fuck,” he groaned, his body curling in on itself. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
As the surge of hormones waned, and awareness of his surroundings bled in on his senses again, Dean took a few slow, careful breaths, trying to relax his muscles while he had the chance. While he hadn’t confessed the whole truth to Eliot yet, he knew from experience that he’d only bought himself a minute or so. He’d been down this road before – the only differences between last time and this was that the dose hadn’t been as strong last time, and Sam had been the one he was locked up with.
A low growl drew his attention back to Eliot, just in time to see the other man thrusting hard into his own fist – thick strands of come shooting out of the end of his own cock.
“Fuck,” Dean whispered, feeling himself get hard again. There was only one way they were going to get through this without permanently injuring themselves.
He was pretty sure Eliot was physically up to the job. Here’s hoping his mental fitness is everything I think it is. Whimpering as every move he made ramped up his hormones into the red zone, Dean started stripping out of the rest of his clothes.
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Word Count: 1046
Fandom: Leverage, SPN
Characters: Dean/Eliot
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Drugs, dub-con, masturbation
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit obtained.
Summary: Captured while on a hunt together, Dean and Eliot are drugged and locked up together to ride out the effects.
Author's Note: Written for
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
Warm…too warm… Dean came awake writhing, his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. “Fuck,” he groaned; his hand slid down to cup his erection. The added pressure gave him no relief whatsoever - his eyelids fluttered and his back arched against the concrete floor, as the feeling of every nerve ending in his body firing at once ripped through him.
They’d been captured and forced to their knees. Masks had been placed over their noses and mouths; Dean had struggled violently, but not before a sickly-sweet substance had been forced into his lungs and sinus cavity. His last clear memory before darkness overwhelmed him completely had been Eliot breaking the neck of one of their human captors.
Eliot… Forcing his hand away from his cock, Dean looked around the small enclosure – trying to locate his friend.
He finally saw him on his knees at the room’s only door. Eliot's forehead was pressed against the smooth metal; his hand gripping the knob tight enough for the skin around his knuckles to go white. Dean’s eyes were drawn inexorably to the other man’s ass, imagining what it would look like free of the jeans…how it would feel…fingers digging into flesh…thrusting into him with hard, even strokes…hearing him moan with pleasure…feeling the tightness squeezing his own cock…
“No,” he whimpered, pressing clenched fists against his eyes and willing the image away. When he lowered his hands, Eliot was looking at him. The other man’s face was flushed, his expression strained. His long hair was dark with sweat, hanging over most of his face.
“Dean,” he said, his voice a rough growl. “What…what the hell?” A shudder rippled through him, and Dean imagined he saw Eliot’s thighs tense. “What happened?”
“We’ve been drugged,” he said. “Hunters call it ‘sex pollen’. Depending on the dose, it can work on the human body as long as twelve to fourteen hours…ah!” He moaned as he struggled to his feet, and his cock rubbed against the fabric of his jeans. “God…” When he could think straight again he asked, “We’re locked in, right?”
Eliot had collapsed into a sitting position, with his back against the door now. His eyes were half-closed, and he was running his hand across his own cock. “Yeah,” he breathed. “How big a dose do you think we took?”
Dean licked his dry lips and tried to reexamine what he remembered through the filter of new information. “Big,” he admitted finally. He squeezed his cock lightly, trying to maintain some control over the situation and keep from undoing his own fly. “Really big. You need to stop trying to get us out of here.”
“What?” Eliot’s breathing was ragged – his voice hoarse. “Why?”
Dean half-collapsed into a rickety metal chair, crying out as the impact sent another jolt of pleasure through his body. “Whoever infected us wants to set us on each other, right?” he asked when his vision cleared.
Now it was Eliot’s turn to lick his lips. He nodded quickly. “Right.”
Dean closed his eyes briefly, fighting off a fresh image of himself kneeling in front of a naked Eliot…the other man’s hand fisted in his hair...his hard cock sliding across Dean’s tongue… “What do you think you’re going to do if you get out of here?” he asked when he could trust himself to look at Eliot again.
“Anything but you,” Eliot said with a wry chuckle. “Seriously man – we need to get as far away from each other as we can. Ride this out.”
While he didn’t disagree with Eliot’s plan in theory, Dean had more experience thinking out the full implications of supernatural traps like this. “Tell me,” he said, forcing eye contact with his friend, “what do you think you’d do if you ran into some innocent bystander while you’re trying to get away from me?”
“I wouldn’t…” Eliot began, but Dean could tell he was starting to think through the possibilities and didn’t like what they meant.
Smiling ruefully, Dean shook his head. “Trust me – you would. What you’re feeling now is nothing compared to what you’re going to be like in a couple hours.” Thumbing open the button on his jeans, he pulled the zipper down and slipped his hand inside his pants. “God...” he groaned softly; the increased contact gave him no relief – merely pushed his body ever closer to orgasm.
“There’s nothing else we can do?” Eliot asked. He had his own jeans undone now, and was pushing fabric over his hips and down his thighs.
Dean ran the pad of his thumb across the leaking slit in the end of his cock, smearing precum across the head. “Promise each other that whatever happens in here stays in here.” He worked the band of his underwear down one handed, until he could wrap his fingers around the length of his shaft. Three good, firm strokes, and he felt his balls tighten…his muscles tense…oh God…
The world went white around him as Dean came in a thick spill over his fist. “Fuck,” he groaned, his body curling in on itself. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
As the surge of hormones waned, and awareness of his surroundings bled in on his senses again, Dean took a few slow, careful breaths, trying to relax his muscles while he had the chance. While he hadn’t confessed the whole truth to Eliot yet, he knew from experience that he’d only bought himself a minute or so. He’d been down this road before – the only differences between last time and this was that the dose hadn’t been as strong last time, and Sam had been the one he was locked up with.
A low growl drew his attention back to Eliot, just in time to see the other man thrusting hard into his own fist – thick strands of come shooting out of the end of his own cock.
“Fuck,” Dean whispered, feeling himself get hard again. There was only one way they were going to get through this without permanently injuring themselves.
He was pretty sure Eliot was physically up to the job. Here’s hoping his mental fitness is everything I think it is. Whimpering as every move he made ramped up his hormones into the red zone, Dean started stripping out of the rest of his clothes.
Tags:
(no subject)
17/7/11 19:48 (UTC)Poor boys :).
(no subject)
18/7/11 09:33 (UTC)I'm probably going to revisit this at some point in the future, because...yeah. *g*
(no subject)
18/7/11 14:31 (UTC)(no subject)
18/7/11 12:48 (UTC)(no subject)
18/7/11 19:02 (UTC)