FIC: More Than God (4/4)
Title: More Than God (4/4)
Author: Daemonikk
Summary: Based on nanomites's prompt (#1 of 27) "Everything is for sale."
Rating: R. Rather R, yes.
Notes: The last chapter of this story, enjoy.
“You seem a man of considerable subtlety, if I may say, Doctor,” he murmured with a slight smile, dragging his fingertips lightly over Rex's torso as they drifted meanderingly towards the high collar of his jacket. He pressed his lips against Rex's forehead again, wishing he could pry down his mask but thinking better of it, for the moment at least. Drawing away, his eyes were almost playful. “I shall have to be very delicate with you...”
He almost laughed at the way Rex bristled indignantly at the suggestion. Was his poor long-suffering genius finally becoming impatient? How lovely. He hooked a finger on Rex's collar, chuckling darkly. “Well... Perhaps not quite so gentle as that.”
He worked his fingers between the folds at the front of Rex's jacket, slowly popping the hidden snaps one by one. He forced himself not to rush, smiling seductively, relishing the way Rex shivered, so sweetly, when his hand brushed over the crotch at the last one.
“Five hundred and twelve thousand, Doctor,” he whispered with a smirk, just to watch him shake his head and try to make it look convincing while staring at McCullen's clearly-outlined cock. It was almost endearing, the way he tried so hard to hold out now. He tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow playfully when Rex managed to meet his gaze again. Good to know he liked what he saw.
“With the right persuasion, of course...” he purred, dragging down the hidden zipper that acted as a backup fastener, making sure his hand pressed against his chest just so, “I could perhaps be convinced to dispense with gentleness entirely...”
Rex answered him with a fierce stare and a nearly feral growl. No anger or warning in it, though; just something else, something hungry that shot straight down McCullen's spine and centred in his now painfully-tight undergarments. Shivering, he focused intently on the task at hand, parting Rex's jacket to (finally) get a good look at what was underneath. He had always been so curious...
His hand met something warm and smooth, almost slick, and a small piece of metal. Breaking Rex's eye contact, he seemed to forget how to breathe, or indeed do anything at all but stare at the glossy black neoprene bodysuit and full-body strap harness.
The fabric seemed painted onto his body, clinging tightly to every muscle and bone. His ribs and hips appeared appealingly stark against the lean muscle, the tight obliques drawing his eyes to the hard flesh between his legs. It looked vacuum-sealed against his stomach, the head pressed tightly and clearly quite painfully against the straps around his waist and the circular metal ring cinching them.
He stepped back to more easily admire the gorgeous sight before him. Perhaps in light mockery of him, Rex was reclined slightly against the bench with his one visible eyebrow raised, his eye narrowed just a touch. Saying nothing and panting slightly, he could not have given a clearer message: 'Do you like what you see?'
“Oh... Oh, Doctor,” he moaned softly, running his hands against the sleek black material, fingering the myriad straps and buckles. He tugged lightly against a strap that ran from Rex's left hip to his knee, pulling the material even tighter against Rex's cock. Rex growled again, that beautiful sound, and McCullen purred in response as he wove the fingers of his other hand around the round metal clasp in the middle of Rex's chest, almost yanking him closer. He released the leg strap, sliding his hand a little to the left...
Rex bucked into McCullen's hand with a strangled, rasping hiss, hands snapping to his back to grip the back of his vest. “Oh, God...”
So close their eyelashes were touching, they panted against each other, a low rumble in McCullen's throat as he stroked Rex faster through the fabric. So hot, so hard, he couldn't last long like this. Neither of them would, for that matter.
“One million and twenty four thousand dollars,” he growled, letting go of Rex's chest and flying to undo the clasps on his mask hurriedly. His voice dropped to a hiss, urgent and burning. “Give yourself to me, Rex. Now.”
Rex's eyes seared his own, and he moaned despite himself when Rex pushed his hands away to claw off the mask impatiently. Christ, those lips...
“Yes,” Rex gasped and lunged to kiss him almost violently, tongue stabbing against his own and teeth biting his lips almost hard enough to draw blood, sucking the very air from his lungs. McCullen clutched him, possessive and starving, his hand on the back of Rex's head as his tongue hastily learnt every ridge and curve of Rex's mouth.
Quickly, far too quickly, Rex began to tremble, breathlessly hissing his annoyance as he reluctantly pulled back. McCullen nodded, understanding, quickly stroking Rex's seldom-exposed cheek before he could put the mask back again.
His chest racked with smothered coughs, Rex was clearly starting to feel real pain, but forced it down for the moment, holding McCullen's hand against his face like an attention-starved cat.
He stared pointedly into McCullen's eyes, making a deep effort to speak despite the fact that it felt like he had to rip each word out of his throat one by one. “I-- have a smaller-- direct apparatus. It-- delivers more oxygen...” Unable to stand it any longer, he mentally cursed as he replaced the mask to continue. “...It delivers more oxygen, for certain... activities that require it. It leaves most of my face exposed.”
McCullen smiled coyly, refastening the bare minimum of required snaps to keep Rex's coat closed. “I may be mistaken, but you seem to be trying to tempt me even more. If that were possible.”
Rex's eyes seemed to glimmer a little as he chuckled. “You're not mistaken.”
McCullen purred low in his throat, smiling deviously. “Can you bring it to my quarters with you?” he murmured, wrapping his arms around Rex's waist.
Rex nodded curtly, his icy veneer of professionalism flawed only by his smirk, and the fact that he was stroking McCullen's chest. “It is self-contained, and carried within a briefcase. My finest mask work to date.”
“Ah, yes, lest I forget,” McCullen said, reluctantly releasing Rex and standing at the bench. He took a pen and a small piece of paper from his pocket, which Rex recognised immediately as a cheque. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, merely smirking at the cleverness of the conniving bastard that had so conveniently displayed himself, and rather beautifully, against the bench. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to abate the pressure plaguing him. That walk down the corridor was going to be murder. He tried to busy himself with replacing his glove.
McCullen caught Rex looking and smiled, tucking the finished check under Rex's coat and between the straps encircling his waist and hips. “I am a man of my word,” he grinned, giving Rex's cock a promising stroke before stepping back. Rex growled softly, and fought the urge to pounce on the infuriatingly teasing older man immediately.
McCullen took his hand, leading him towards the door. He tilted his head to stare slightly upwards at Rex, eyes beckoning. “No more playing, I promise.”
Rex grabbed a small black and silver metallic case from beside the bench and followed, fixing McCullen with a surprisingly predatory expression.
“Can you growl for me again, dear Doctor?” McCullen whispered, pulling Rex to walk closer to him and laying a hand to rest between his narrow shoulder blades. His skilfully blank expression did little to hide the heat in his voice.
Rex looked down the corridor and locked one arm behind his back, as was his habit. McCullen's hand drifted down his back and he clasped it lightly, stroking along the fingers rather purposefully. He felt like purring when he heard McCullen's low groan beside him, and noticed the way they had sped up slightly.
Rex smiled, removing the cheque from his strap webbing and depositing it carefully in a pocket in his coat.
“Make me.”
Author: Daemonikk
Summary: Based on nanomites's prompt (#1 of 27) "Everything is for sale."
Rating: R. Rather R, yes.
Notes: The last chapter of this story, enjoy.
“You seem a man of considerable subtlety, if I may say, Doctor,” he murmured with a slight smile, dragging his fingertips lightly over Rex's torso as they drifted meanderingly towards the high collar of his jacket. He pressed his lips against Rex's forehead again, wishing he could pry down his mask but thinking better of it, for the moment at least. Drawing away, his eyes were almost playful. “I shall have to be very delicate with you...”
He almost laughed at the way Rex bristled indignantly at the suggestion. Was his poor long-suffering genius finally becoming impatient? How lovely. He hooked a finger on Rex's collar, chuckling darkly. “Well... Perhaps not quite so gentle as that.”
He worked his fingers between the folds at the front of Rex's jacket, slowly popping the hidden snaps one by one. He forced himself not to rush, smiling seductively, relishing the way Rex shivered, so sweetly, when his hand brushed over the crotch at the last one.
“Five hundred and twelve thousand, Doctor,” he whispered with a smirk, just to watch him shake his head and try to make it look convincing while staring at McCullen's clearly-outlined cock. It was almost endearing, the way he tried so hard to hold out now. He tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow playfully when Rex managed to meet his gaze again. Good to know he liked what he saw.
“With the right persuasion, of course...” he purred, dragging down the hidden zipper that acted as a backup fastener, making sure his hand pressed against his chest just so, “I could perhaps be convinced to dispense with gentleness entirely...”
Rex answered him with a fierce stare and a nearly feral growl. No anger or warning in it, though; just something else, something hungry that shot straight down McCullen's spine and centred in his now painfully-tight undergarments. Shivering, he focused intently on the task at hand, parting Rex's jacket to (finally) get a good look at what was underneath. He had always been so curious...
His hand met something warm and smooth, almost slick, and a small piece of metal. Breaking Rex's eye contact, he seemed to forget how to breathe, or indeed do anything at all but stare at the glossy black neoprene bodysuit and full-body strap harness.
The fabric seemed painted onto his body, clinging tightly to every muscle and bone. His ribs and hips appeared appealingly stark against the lean muscle, the tight obliques drawing his eyes to the hard flesh between his legs. It looked vacuum-sealed against his stomach, the head pressed tightly and clearly quite painfully against the straps around his waist and the circular metal ring cinching them.
He stepped back to more easily admire the gorgeous sight before him. Perhaps in light mockery of him, Rex was reclined slightly against the bench with his one visible eyebrow raised, his eye narrowed just a touch. Saying nothing and panting slightly, he could not have given a clearer message: 'Do you like what you see?'
“Oh... Oh, Doctor,” he moaned softly, running his hands against the sleek black material, fingering the myriad straps and buckles. He tugged lightly against a strap that ran from Rex's left hip to his knee, pulling the material even tighter against Rex's cock. Rex growled again, that beautiful sound, and McCullen purred in response as he wove the fingers of his other hand around the round metal clasp in the middle of Rex's chest, almost yanking him closer. He released the leg strap, sliding his hand a little to the left...
Rex bucked into McCullen's hand with a strangled, rasping hiss, hands snapping to his back to grip the back of his vest. “Oh, God...”
So close their eyelashes were touching, they panted against each other, a low rumble in McCullen's throat as he stroked Rex faster through the fabric. So hot, so hard, he couldn't last long like this. Neither of them would, for that matter.
“One million and twenty four thousand dollars,” he growled, letting go of Rex's chest and flying to undo the clasps on his mask hurriedly. His voice dropped to a hiss, urgent and burning. “Give yourself to me, Rex. Now.”
Rex's eyes seared his own, and he moaned despite himself when Rex pushed his hands away to claw off the mask impatiently. Christ, those lips...
“Yes,” Rex gasped and lunged to kiss him almost violently, tongue stabbing against his own and teeth biting his lips almost hard enough to draw blood, sucking the very air from his lungs. McCullen clutched him, possessive and starving, his hand on the back of Rex's head as his tongue hastily learnt every ridge and curve of Rex's mouth.
Quickly, far too quickly, Rex began to tremble, breathlessly hissing his annoyance as he reluctantly pulled back. McCullen nodded, understanding, quickly stroking Rex's seldom-exposed cheek before he could put the mask back again.
His chest racked with smothered coughs, Rex was clearly starting to feel real pain, but forced it down for the moment, holding McCullen's hand against his face like an attention-starved cat.
He stared pointedly into McCullen's eyes, making a deep effort to speak despite the fact that it felt like he had to rip each word out of his throat one by one. “I-- have a smaller-- direct apparatus. It-- delivers more oxygen...” Unable to stand it any longer, he mentally cursed as he replaced the mask to continue. “...It delivers more oxygen, for certain... activities that require it. It leaves most of my face exposed.”
McCullen smiled coyly, refastening the bare minimum of required snaps to keep Rex's coat closed. “I may be mistaken, but you seem to be trying to tempt me even more. If that were possible.”
Rex's eyes seemed to glimmer a little as he chuckled. “You're not mistaken.”
McCullen purred low in his throat, smiling deviously. “Can you bring it to my quarters with you?” he murmured, wrapping his arms around Rex's waist.
Rex nodded curtly, his icy veneer of professionalism flawed only by his smirk, and the fact that he was stroking McCullen's chest. “It is self-contained, and carried within a briefcase. My finest mask work to date.”
“Ah, yes, lest I forget,” McCullen said, reluctantly releasing Rex and standing at the bench. He took a pen and a small piece of paper from his pocket, which Rex recognised immediately as a cheque. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, merely smirking at the cleverness of the conniving bastard that had so conveniently displayed himself, and rather beautifully, against the bench. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to abate the pressure plaguing him. That walk down the corridor was going to be murder. He tried to busy himself with replacing his glove.
McCullen caught Rex looking and smiled, tucking the finished check under Rex's coat and between the straps encircling his waist and hips. “I am a man of my word,” he grinned, giving Rex's cock a promising stroke before stepping back. Rex growled softly, and fought the urge to pounce on the infuriatingly teasing older man immediately.
McCullen took his hand, leading him towards the door. He tilted his head to stare slightly upwards at Rex, eyes beckoning. “No more playing, I promise.”
Rex grabbed a small black and silver metallic case from beside the bench and followed, fixing McCullen with a surprisingly predatory expression.
“Can you growl for me again, dear Doctor?” McCullen whispered, pulling Rex to walk closer to him and laying a hand to rest between his narrow shoulder blades. His skilfully blank expression did little to hide the heat in his voice.
Rex looked down the corridor and locked one arm behind his back, as was his habit. McCullen's hand drifted down his back and he clasped it lightly, stroking along the fingers rather purposefully. He felt like purring when he heard McCullen's low groan beside him, and noticed the way they had sped up slightly.
Rex smiled, removing the cheque from his strap webbing and depositing it carefully in a pocket in his coat.
“Make me.”