Ficlet: Anamnesis (Gunn/Lindsey) NC17
Title: Anamnesis
Pairing: Gunn/Lindsey
Rating: NC17
Timeline: S5
Written for obsessedmuch, who wanted G/L and gave me a prompt of "sweat".
*
The room is hot as hell. When Gunn rigged the system to lock him in here and blind the surveillance, he didn't know it would take the climate control out, too. Not that it matters a damn. Not that either one of them gives a shit.
It's nicer than some hotel suites, this holding room they stashed Lindsey in, and Gunn's a little glad for that because getting shoved facedown on a big bed is better than getting shoved onto some rickety cot.
"This what you came here for?" Lindsey asks and crawls between Gunn's legs, plasters his chest to Gunn's back.
They're both naked and their bodies slipslide against each other, frictionless and slick, and Gunn feels Lindsey's pretty lips drag against his back, collecting a line of moisture that he licks up, swallows down.
"Yeah, it's what I came here for," Gunn whispers, because it is, and they've already done the posturing, and it's time for other things now.
Lindsey sits up, slides his hands down Gunn's sweaty back, over his ass, and if Gunn had any shame when he came to this room then an hour of rolling around on this bed with Lindsey has done away with it: he fists the damp sheets under him and lifts his ass.
There's just the wetness from Gunn's back on Lindsey's fingers when he pushes two of them inside, and Gunn gasps, shoves back for more.
Lindsey laughs, wicked and knowing, and twists his fingers sharply. The laughter gets smug when Gunn arches his head back and groans loud and long. And, whatever. Lindsey can be smug as he wants, as long as he gives Gunn what he came here for.
There's sweat rolling down Gunn's forehead, into his eyes, and he tries to blink it away but there's more that comes after it, and he gives up, squeezes his eyes shut.
"Why?" Lindsey asks, soft and curious, his fingers driving in and out of Gunn's ass. He bends over Gunn's back, teeth nipping against skin that's too slick to give him any kind of purchase to bite for real. "Why the hell do you want this? From me, no less?"
It's all so complicated and Gunn's long past being able to explain it. He shakes his head, makes a broken noise when Lindsey works a third finger into him, and moves so that he can get his knees under him and ride those fingers, make Lindsey forget the question.
"Shit," Lindsey grunts and then he pulls his fingers out. Gunn curses in frustration and feels the mattress shift under them. "Just need--okay."
When Lindsey comes back his hands latch onto Gunn's hips, slick with more than just sweat, and Gunn twists under him. "On my back," Gunn says and opens his eyes.
"No way in hell we're doing this face-to-face."
Lindsey tries to hold him in place, but Gunn glides through his grip easily, gets onto his back and wraps his legs around Lindsey's waist.
"Not just me who wants this," Gunn says, and Lindsey probably can't bring himself to admit it the way Gunn did, with words, but he does it with actions: he spills forward, the sweaty skin of his waist sliding against Gunn's thighs.
Gunn reaches out, grabs a pillow and pushes it at Lindsey, who shoves it under Gunn's hips and then lines his dick up. There's more than just the wetness of sweat on his dick, too, and Gunn doesn't want to wait anymore. His legs slip against Lindsey's back when he tightens them around him, when he tries to pull Lindsey's dick into himself.
Lindsey braces his hands on the bed, on either side of Gunn's chest, and his dick does a maddening slide away from where Gunn wants it, and they both curse. It happens twice more before Gunn reaches down, holds Lindsey steady while Lindsey pushes and then--
Oh, fuck. It's been years since Gunn's had a dick in him, and he has no fucking idea how he didn't miss it until recently, because it's so goddamn motherfucking *good*.
"Fuck, you're tight as hell," Lindsey gasps, and his eyes are wide and wild, and Gunn clenches around him just so that he can see those eyes roll back. When Lindsey brings them back down again there's this fierceness in them that makes Gunn smile a challenge at him, and Lindsey's lips curl before he starts fucking Gunn.
Three thrusts in, Lindsey's hands slide outwards on the sheets, even though he grabs them, and Gunn curls his own lips before shoving Lindsey's hands out from under him entirely, so that Lindsey falls onto his chest.
More frictionless slipsliding against each other, but Lindsey's hips never stop, don't even pause, and Gunn clamps down on the only friction that exists anywhere between them, and it makes Lindsey's spine curve with pleasure.
"The basement," Lindsey says faintly, forehead pressed against Gunn's chest, his hips still moving. "That's why, right?"
Gunn lays there on his back, something evil and malevolent hovering over him, driving into him, and he nods.
"You sick fuck." Lindsey can say whatever he wants, but his hips are shoving harder, faster, and his hands are trying to dig into Gunn's sides desperately, and Gunn hacks out a laugh.
"Ain't the only one."
"Shut up," Lindsey snaps and he turns his head, so that his mouth is right over Gunn's heart, and his teeth gnaw at Gunn's skin, scrape away sweat and moisture until they can get a solid hold.
Gunn comes when Lindsey bites him hard enough to break skin, and Lindsey comes a second later, the blood on his lips mixed with the sweat pouring down his face.
"How much longer?" Lindsey asks.
"Another half hour," Gunn tells him.
Lindsey pulls out of Gunn, slides up his chest and smears his lips against Gunn's. "My turn."
*
.End
Pairing: Gunn/Lindsey
Rating: NC17
Timeline: S5
Written for obsessedmuch, who wanted G/L and gave me a prompt of "sweat".
*
The room is hot as hell. When Gunn rigged the system to lock him in here and blind the surveillance, he didn't know it would take the climate control out, too. Not that it matters a damn. Not that either one of them gives a shit.
It's nicer than some hotel suites, this holding room they stashed Lindsey in, and Gunn's a little glad for that because getting shoved facedown on a big bed is better than getting shoved onto some rickety cot.
"This what you came here for?" Lindsey asks and crawls between Gunn's legs, plasters his chest to Gunn's back.
They're both naked and their bodies slipslide against each other, frictionless and slick, and Gunn feels Lindsey's pretty lips drag against his back, collecting a line of moisture that he licks up, swallows down.
"Yeah, it's what I came here for," Gunn whispers, because it is, and they've already done the posturing, and it's time for other things now.
Lindsey sits up, slides his hands down Gunn's sweaty back, over his ass, and if Gunn had any shame when he came to this room then an hour of rolling around on this bed with Lindsey has done away with it: he fists the damp sheets under him and lifts his ass.
There's just the wetness from Gunn's back on Lindsey's fingers when he pushes two of them inside, and Gunn gasps, shoves back for more.
Lindsey laughs, wicked and knowing, and twists his fingers sharply. The laughter gets smug when Gunn arches his head back and groans loud and long. And, whatever. Lindsey can be smug as he wants, as long as he gives Gunn what he came here for.
There's sweat rolling down Gunn's forehead, into his eyes, and he tries to blink it away but there's more that comes after it, and he gives up, squeezes his eyes shut.
"Why?" Lindsey asks, soft and curious, his fingers driving in and out of Gunn's ass. He bends over Gunn's back, teeth nipping against skin that's too slick to give him any kind of purchase to bite for real. "Why the hell do you want this? From me, no less?"
It's all so complicated and Gunn's long past being able to explain it. He shakes his head, makes a broken noise when Lindsey works a third finger into him, and moves so that he can get his knees under him and ride those fingers, make Lindsey forget the question.
"Shit," Lindsey grunts and then he pulls his fingers out. Gunn curses in frustration and feels the mattress shift under them. "Just need--okay."
When Lindsey comes back his hands latch onto Gunn's hips, slick with more than just sweat, and Gunn twists under him. "On my back," Gunn says and opens his eyes.
"No way in hell we're doing this face-to-face."
Lindsey tries to hold him in place, but Gunn glides through his grip easily, gets onto his back and wraps his legs around Lindsey's waist.
"Not just me who wants this," Gunn says, and Lindsey probably can't bring himself to admit it the way Gunn did, with words, but he does it with actions: he spills forward, the sweaty skin of his waist sliding against Gunn's thighs.
Gunn reaches out, grabs a pillow and pushes it at Lindsey, who shoves it under Gunn's hips and then lines his dick up. There's more than just the wetness of sweat on his dick, too, and Gunn doesn't want to wait anymore. His legs slip against Lindsey's back when he tightens them around him, when he tries to pull Lindsey's dick into himself.
Lindsey braces his hands on the bed, on either side of Gunn's chest, and his dick does a maddening slide away from where Gunn wants it, and they both curse. It happens twice more before Gunn reaches down, holds Lindsey steady while Lindsey pushes and then--
Oh, fuck. It's been years since Gunn's had a dick in him, and he has no fucking idea how he didn't miss it until recently, because it's so goddamn motherfucking *good*.
"Fuck, you're tight as hell," Lindsey gasps, and his eyes are wide and wild, and Gunn clenches around him just so that he can see those eyes roll back. When Lindsey brings them back down again there's this fierceness in them that makes Gunn smile a challenge at him, and Lindsey's lips curl before he starts fucking Gunn.
Three thrusts in, Lindsey's hands slide outwards on the sheets, even though he grabs them, and Gunn curls his own lips before shoving Lindsey's hands out from under him entirely, so that Lindsey falls onto his chest.
More frictionless slipsliding against each other, but Lindsey's hips never stop, don't even pause, and Gunn clamps down on the only friction that exists anywhere between them, and it makes Lindsey's spine curve with pleasure.
"The basement," Lindsey says faintly, forehead pressed against Gunn's chest, his hips still moving. "That's why, right?"
Gunn lays there on his back, something evil and malevolent hovering over him, driving into him, and he nods.
"You sick fuck." Lindsey can say whatever he wants, but his hips are shoving harder, faster, and his hands are trying to dig into Gunn's sides desperately, and Gunn hacks out a laugh.
"Ain't the only one."
"Shut up," Lindsey snaps and he turns his head, so that his mouth is right over Gunn's heart, and his teeth gnaw at Gunn's skin, scrape away sweat and moisture until they can get a solid hold.
Gunn comes when Lindsey bites him hard enough to break skin, and Lindsey comes a second later, the blood on his lips mixed with the sweat pouring down his face.
"How much longer?" Lindsey asks.
"Another half hour," Gunn tells him.
Lindsey pulls out of Gunn, slides up his chest and smears his lips against Gunn's. "My turn."
*
.End