(FIC) Riptide (Jason Blood/Clark Kent, R)
...yeaaaah. I failed at the smut. Sorry dien! But.. there's still magic bondage on it! My Clark muse got wicked eventually but wouldn’t let me see much. Though there was candle play. That much I’m certain of.
Looked over by sasha_anu, jen_in_japan and quiet__tiger (hands ferret shaped cookies around). All remaining mistakes are mine!
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Jason Blood/Clark Kent
Rating: R
Warnings: Some magic bondage.
Word count: 500+
Summary: Clark is here to learn.
Riptide
Riptide: A stretch of turbulent water in a river or the sea caused by one current flowing into or across another current.
Clark wriggles, pulling at the restraints chaining him to the luxurious bed. The restraints sparkle, the low buzz making Clark’s hair stand up, like electricity but not quite. He shivers; it isn’t entirely unpleasant. He pulls at the restraints again, feeling them tighten around his wrists, not cutting flesh, not yet. Clark knows that if he pulls hard enough, it’s his skin that will give, and not the chains. Or the bed.
It’s an unfamiliar feeling, being physically vulnerable. Not many things can bring Superman to his knees, very few can restrain him. All his experiences with them -kryptonite, red sunlight, magic- have involved psychopaths attempting to kill him or enslave him, and he seldom has the opportunity to just lay back and… experiment.
“Are you enjoying yourself yet?” The redhead asks, a sardonic smile on his lips as he lights yet another candle. The flames dance to a current of wind Clark can’t feel, shadows chasing after each other on the walls. Clark smiles at the magician. There is no love lost between them… but then neither of them is here looking for love. “Good. Usually more conventional toys would suffice,” he says, idly gesturing towards the engraved restraints and arcane artifacts laying around, the smell of sage and pine strong in the air, “but you’re not the first person to make me have to improvise. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I’m here to learn,” Clark says, and feels a surge of anticipation at Jason’s grin.
“Learn what? How to do this?” The magician makes a swift pass in the air and the restraints tighten, pulling at his arms and his legs, leaving him spread eagle and eliciting a grunt from him, “Or learn about yourself?”
Clark tries to find the most honest answer in himself. He can’t be sure, but the restraints are burning his wrists and ankles a little, and it’s hard to think. The pain is curiously intoxicating; he doesn’t think he’s in control here, but it’s up to him how much he pulls at the magical chains. He decides just how much he'll allow them to cut and burn, and he thinks Jason knows enough about morbid curiosity and secret desires to help him understand his own. The restraints feel like electricity licking his skin, a vibrant but distant lover, and he can’t contain his hunger for knowledge.
He wants to know this pain intimately, make it his. He wants to embrace it and see where it might take him beyond the limits of his physical invulnerability.
Jason nods like he has gotten his answer, and maybe he has. Clark can never be sure how much the magician can read from him.
“Live and learn, Superman. I didn’t think you had it in you. We might both learn something from tonight,” Jason says, deft hands slowly undoing his silken red tie and unbuttoning his shirt. Clark grins to himself. He’s naked on the bed of an unreadable man, bound and vulnerable. He doesn’t think he should feel quite this empowered.
He does, anyway.
Looked over by sasha_anu, jen_in_japan and quiet__tiger (hands ferret shaped cookies around). All remaining mistakes are mine!
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Jason Blood/Clark Kent
Rating: R
Warnings: Some magic bondage.
Word count: 500+
Summary: Clark is here to learn.
Riptide
Riptide: A stretch of turbulent water in a river or the sea caused by one current flowing into or across another current.
Clark wriggles, pulling at the restraints chaining him to the luxurious bed. The restraints sparkle, the low buzz making Clark’s hair stand up, like electricity but not quite. He shivers; it isn’t entirely unpleasant. He pulls at the restraints again, feeling them tighten around his wrists, not cutting flesh, not yet. Clark knows that if he pulls hard enough, it’s his skin that will give, and not the chains. Or the bed.
It’s an unfamiliar feeling, being physically vulnerable. Not many things can bring Superman to his knees, very few can restrain him. All his experiences with them -kryptonite, red sunlight, magic- have involved psychopaths attempting to kill him or enslave him, and he seldom has the opportunity to just lay back and… experiment.
“Are you enjoying yourself yet?” The redhead asks, a sardonic smile on his lips as he lights yet another candle. The flames dance to a current of wind Clark can’t feel, shadows chasing after each other on the walls. Clark smiles at the magician. There is no love lost between them… but then neither of them is here looking for love. “Good. Usually more conventional toys would suffice,” he says, idly gesturing towards the engraved restraints and arcane artifacts laying around, the smell of sage and pine strong in the air, “but you’re not the first person to make me have to improvise. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I’m here to learn,” Clark says, and feels a surge of anticipation at Jason’s grin.
“Learn what? How to do this?” The magician makes a swift pass in the air and the restraints tighten, pulling at his arms and his legs, leaving him spread eagle and eliciting a grunt from him, “Or learn about yourself?”
Clark tries to find the most honest answer in himself. He can’t be sure, but the restraints are burning his wrists and ankles a little, and it’s hard to think. The pain is curiously intoxicating; he doesn’t think he’s in control here, but it’s up to him how much he pulls at the magical chains. He decides just how much he'll allow them to cut and burn, and he thinks Jason knows enough about morbid curiosity and secret desires to help him understand his own. The restraints feel like electricity licking his skin, a vibrant but distant lover, and he can’t contain his hunger for knowledge.
He wants to know this pain intimately, make it his. He wants to embrace it and see where it might take him beyond the limits of his physical invulnerability.
Jason nods like he has gotten his answer, and maybe he has. Clark can never be sure how much the magician can read from him.
“Live and learn, Superman. I didn’t think you had it in you. We might both learn something from tonight,” Jason says, deft hands slowly undoing his silken red tie and unbuttoning his shirt. Clark grins to himself. He’s naked on the bed of an unreadable man, bound and vulnerable. He doesn’t think he should feel quite this empowered.
He does, anyway.