|Compromising Positions | Into the Black | Contact|
Blind CurveNotes: Thanks to Grey Bard for the brainstorming that got this one rolling. It's not quite what we talked about, but sometimes the Muse has her own ideas and who am I to argue with her?
I may very well have the world's longest run-on sentence in this fic, but I don't care. I kept it in because of the way it builds the moment.
Sequel to: Full Speed Ahead
To see the translation of the Chinese text, hold your cursor over the text
Simon sits beside Mal, watching him sleep, waiting for him to wake. He knows that he has taken a big risk putting the blindfold on him while he is sleeping, but Simon knows that Mal would never let him do it otherwise. Simon understands that Mal always has to be in control, but he would like to show him how much fun letting go can be.
Mal wakes up nude and blind. Panicking for a minute, memories of Niska and torture flooding into his brain, he flails his hands out, hitting Simon's bare leg. Remembering where he is in an instant, Mal turns his face towards the warm body he senses next to him.
"Simon?" He asks, incredulous. "What the ruttin' hell do you think you're playin' at?" He moves his hands up to take the blindfold off only to have his hands intercepted.
"Simon," Mal says darkly, "Get this ruttin' thing off me now."
Still holding Mal's hands away from the blindfold, Simon leans down so that his face is hovering over Mal's and he says, "Mal, please." He leans in and places a soft, gentle kiss on the older man's parted lips. "Do this for me." Another kiss. "Please."
It's the pleading that gets to Mal. He's never heard Simon beg, not for anything. Mal relaxes and drops his hands, resting one on the bed and the other on Simon's back. "OK, you win. What's this all about?"
"Patience, all will be revealed in time," Simon says mysteriously, leaning in for another kiss. This time it's returned and intensified as Mal pulls Simon down across him, holding him tight as he thoroughly explores the inside of Simon's mouth with his tongue. Simon can feel himself melting into Mal's embrace and pulls away. Even now, Mal is trying to take over.
Breathing heavily, Simon asks in a stern voice, "Do I have to tie you down? Lay back and relax, let me do this my way."
Hearing the real threat in Simon's tone, Mal relents, and lets go of Simon.
"Sit up a bit," Simon says, leaning forward to prop another pillow behind Mal's head. Unable to resist, Mal nibbles at Simon's neck.
"You are hopeless," Simon says gently and gives Mal a soft kiss. "Now, stay. I'll be right back."
Simon gets up and fetches the basket of fruit he has hidden in his closet. Mal's head tracks his movements around the small room, following the noises that he makes. Simon places the basket on the table next to his bed and gets back onto the bed next to his lover. Mal puts his arm across Simon, resting his hand on his hip. Simon grabs a small handful of the purple field berries that remind him of blueberries, but with a sharper, tarter flavour. He runs his thumb across Mal's lower lip and says, "Open."
Without the expected argument, Mal does as he is asked. Simon places one of the berries on Mal's tongue. Mal presses it to the roof of his mouth. Watching Mal's face soften with delight, Simon nibbles a few berries himself.
"You like?" He asks.
"Very much," Mal says. "More?"
Instead of answering, Simon squashes a few of the berries between his fingers and rubs them across Mal's lips, staining them purple. When Mal's tongue comes out to lick the crushed fruit off his lips, Simon adds his tongue to the job. Keeping it light and easy, Simon pulls back when Mal tries to deepen the kiss. Growling, Mal lets him go.
"Tease," Mal says sulkily and wraps his free hand around Simon's back and tries to pull him down again.
"Behave, or you won't get to try the next one," Simon says, tapping Mal on the lips with his finger.
"I'm behaving, I'm behaving. See, this is me behaving," Mal says loosening his grip, but leaving his hand on Simon's back where he begins to trace small circles.
Reaching back into the basket, Simon pulls out a piece of mango. The fruit had been ripe enough to be sweet, but still firm enough to cut into crescents. He teases Mal's lips with the fruit, smiling as Mal's head arches up to follow the mango as he dips it down and away from the reaching mouth. Putting one end between his teeth, Simon lets Mal catch the other end. They nibble towards each other, stopping when their lips meet in the middle. Simon kisses Mal with a loud wet smack.
Mal thinks he's died and gone to heaven as he chews. "Mmmm, mango, my favourite." He can't believe how good the fruit is and how erotic Simon has managed to make it. He can actually feel himself getting hard.
"Mine too." Simon feeds Mal a few more slices, and then reaches for a peach. He holds it to Mal's lips and says, "Bite."
When Mal takes a big bite of the very ripe peach, juice runs down his chin and neck, onto his chest. As he chews, Simon leans in and licks the juice off him in long, wet strokes that make his toes curl.
"Lie down," Simon says as he slides further down the bed.
Mal lays flat, his breath sharpening in anticipation. Unable to see what Simon is doing, Mal gasps in shock when he feels peach juice dribble onto his nipple. Swooping in, Simon licks up the juice that has started sliding down Mal's side and works his way up to the nipple, teasing the nub of flesh into a hard point with his tongue before he begins to suck. Moaning, Mal arches into Simon's mouth and cups his head with a hand.
"Mmmm, peach-flavoured Mal," Simon says in a playful voice. He then squeezes the peach again, drawing a trail of juice across Mal's chest to the other nipple. He works his way across Mal's chest and nibbles lightly on the sensitive nub. Mal groans and twists up into Simon's mouth.
Settling himself between Mal's legs, Simon squeezes peach juice down Mal's body to his navel, which he fills with the sweet nectar. Following the trail, Simon licks and sucks and kisses as Mal writhes under him. Mal's whole body is on fire wherever Simon has touched him. When Simon reaches his bellybutton and plunges his tongue in deep, his hips buck upward. When the head of his throbbing cock rubs the underside of Simon's jaw he whimpers with need.
Simon sits up again, and with one last squeeze, he covers Mal's cock and balls with juice. After tossing the destroyed peach into the basket, Simon licks his hand clean. He begins with Mal's thigh, lapping up the juice with a light tongue. Working his way towards Mal's scrotum, Simon teases Mal's balls with soft, light kisses and then gently sucks on them one at a time. When they are thoroughly cleaned, Simon runs a sharp pointed tongue up the shaft of Mal's penis. Mal moans deep and low in his throat, his hips thrusting upwards.
"Oh, Simon, please, stop teasing," he groans, hands twisting in the bedclothes.
Simon sucks on his fingers and works them down, under Mal. He then slides his mouth over the head of Mal's cock, tasting the precome mixed with peach juice. As he teases the slit with his tongue, he slides two fingers slowly into Mal, curving them upward to hit his prostate. Mal lets out a sharp cry and his back arches off the bed. Simon swallows Mal whole and begins to suck. As he begins to move his head, Simon massages Mal's prostate with his fingers.
Mal's body shivers and shakes as his hips try to push him back into the fingers in his ass and up into the soft, wet suction of Simon's mouth at the same time. Driven beyond coherent thought and speech, Mal begins to babble in a mixture of Chinese and English - oh fuck, ta mah duh, Simon, oh God, yes, fuck yes, wuh de tyen ah - until he loses the capacity for speech altogether and comes hard in Simon's mouth.
Swallowing swiftly, nearly choking, Simon continues to suck gently on Mal until he's completely soft. When he slides his fingers out of Mal's bottom, Mal whimpers with the loss. Still quivering with the after shocks, he pulls Simon down into a long, deep kiss. Mal wants more, needs more, wants Simon in him more than he's ever wanted anything in his life.
"Can I take this gorram blindfold off now?" Mal asks breathlessly as he runs his hands across the curves of Simon's face. "I want to see your beautiful face when you fuck me."
Simon flips off the blindfold as he reaches into the basket for the tube of lube he put in with the fruit. They look deep into each other's eyes, seeing their own desire reflected back at them. Simon leans in for another deep kiss and then works his way slowly down Mal's body once again. He puts Mal's legs up onto his shoulders and squirts lube onto his hands. He quickly prepares Mal and himself. Simon is trembling with want, but he's determined to go slow, he wants to make this last. Pressing his cock against Mal's opening he slides in at a leisurely pace, leaning forward and down into Mal until he's buried to the hilt and resting on his elbows. Mal's hands curve tightly around Simon, pulling him down for a kiss, and as their lips meet, Simon starts to move his hips. He maintains a slow deliberate pace, not allowing Mal to rush him with words or actions. He wants to savour this - it's the first time he's made love to Mal and he wants to remember every minute of it.
Simon loses himself in the sensations - Mal's tight and hot cavity contracting around his cock, Mal's strong hands grasping at his back, pulling him in deeper and deeper, the soft wet pressure of Mal's mouth against his, the slick of sweat between them as their bodies rub together, the sound of their flesh slapping together, the soft, low moans Mal makes every time Simon's cock brushes against his prostate, his own moans of pleasure, the smell of sex and peaches - that will stay with him for the rest of his life. He begins to move faster, the pressure in his balls telling him he's close, very close. With one last hard thrust, Simon comes with a loud scream. Shaking and panting for air, Simon rests his head against Mal's shoulder.
"You OK?" Mal whispers, stroking Simon's back and head.
Still not capable of speech, Simon nods. Mal shifts them around, until they're on their sides and then he cradles Simon against him, kissing his face and lips, murmuring words of affection, and running his hands over his body, gentling the tremours that still wrack the doctor's slight form. Simon wraps himself tightly around Mal and falls asleep.
Later, they sit cuddled together, Simon between Mal's legs, resting back against him as they feed each other the leftover fruit. Simon holds up the last piece of mango for Mal to nibble on.
"How did you pay for all this fruit, anyway? Musta been costly." Finishing the slice, Mal begins to lick the juice off Simon's hand, one finger at a time.
"Traded for it," Simon says somewhat cryptically, enjoying the soft wetness of Mal's tongue on his fingers.
Sensing something is up, Mal presses on, "Traded what, exactly?"
"A vest," Simon answers, briefly.
"Which one?" Mal is sure Simon's trying to hide something from him now.
"The gold one, OK?" Simon says, exasperated at Mal's insistence on knowing.
Mal shifts them around a bit so that he can look Simon in the face. "You're telling me that you traded a fire-silk vest for a basket of fruit? For me?"
Smiling a little, Simon says firmly, "Yes. To both parts."
"Oh, Simon," Mal says softly, nearly overwhelmed by the gesture. Fire-silk is extremely rare and very expensive, and it is likely that Simon will never be able to replace it. He pulls Simon into a fierce, lip-bruising kiss. When they finally break for air, Mal says, his voice roughened by emotion, "I love you."
Running his fingers across Mal's lips, Simon says, "I love you too, Mal." They share a gentle smile and settle back into their former position, Simon tucked snugly against Mal's chest, Mal's arms tight around his middle. Reaching into the basket, Simon grabs a handful of berries and Mal nibbles on his neck and shoulder as he eats them.
"Next time," Mal says mischievously, "We should get some chocolate sauce. I think I'd like to try a chocolate-dipped Simon."