Sanguine--NC-17--Simon/Mal
Title: Sanguine
Author: lvs2read
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Simon/Mal
Warnings: Bloodplay
Disclaimer: Belongs to the almighty Joss Whedon. I'm just having fun playing.
Author's Notes: For prehistoric-sea, who wanted blood and/or tears, aftercare, and no shame, though reluctance was fine. Hope this meets your criteria, hon!
Also, thanks to woodsong-1978 and thunder-nari for betaing this for me. Couldn't have done it without you ladies! Thanks!
Sanguine
Doc and I have been sharing quarters off and on for nigh on a year now. Say 'off and on' 'cause there's times when one or the other of us feels the need for a mite more space than can be found in my bunk, and there's still nights when River needs him more than I do, but on the whole, we've spent more nights together than not over the last year or so.
And, yes, did say I need him. Kind of took me by surprise when I realized that. Thought I didn't need anything more than my ship, my crew, and my sky to fill the endless roll of days left to me after the war. Thought that right up until the time Doc shoved me against the bulkhead in a fit of pique. Course, I struggled. I'm the captain. Ain't no one supposed to do any shoving unless it's me. But Doc's stronger than he looks, and before I knew it, he'd thrust his knee between my thighs and pulled my head down for a hard, bruising kiss. That's about the time I quit resisting.
Know what you're thinking. "Malcolm Reynolds, I thought you leaned toward women?" It's true, I do, but I've been known to bend toward men. Especially when they're as easy on the eyes as Doc. And truth to tell, I'd been wondering how that mouth of his tasted far too long for my own peace of mind. Turned out it tasted pretty damn good.
So, anyway, like I was saying, found out then how much I need him. Found out, too, that he needs me just as much. See, there's not a lot of things he can control in his life. Too many variables for him what with River's troubles and the law being after them. And, me? Well, sometimes I try to control too many things and stretch myself too thin. But not in the bunk. There we switch roles as it were. He's the protector, the one in charge, the leader. And I trust him more than I've trusted anyone since joining up.
Course, that trust didn't come easy. I've struggled with that side of myself more times than I care to say. Never thought I'd be one for taking orders. Oh, sure, took them in the war, but that was different. And even then, fought against some of them. Now, when I struggle, Doc helps me through it, talks it out with me, makes me understand why I need to let it go, and then takes me so deep inside myself I'd be lost if he wasn't right there, catching me when I fall, guiding me back with gentle touches and a soothing voice.
It's not all about taking orders, though. It's about giving and receiving pleasure in any number of ways. And let me tell you something - behind those fancy vests and starched shirts, Doc's got one hell of a kinky mind. Downright surprising, some of the things he comes up with. And while sometimes I ain't too sure going in, he's never given me any reason to doubt that the outcome's going to be pleasurable. Take tonight for instance.
Came down into the bunk after making one last round of the ship, a habit I got into after that bounty hunter took us by surprise, and there he was, waiting for me. Nothing so unusual about that. Sometimes he's there before me, sometimes not. Don't make no nevermind to either of us who gets there first, so long as we both end up there eventually.
So, anyway, I closed the hatch and walked over to kiss him as is my wont - he likes to be greeted that way, and I got no reason to complain, not with the way his kisses take my breath away. True to form, we kissed 'til my head spun, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip igniting desire in my gut, his hands on my face grounding me in the here and now even as his tongue threatened to send my thoughts skittering as it swept over my lips and into my mouth, exploring me like he hadn't just tasted me a few hours earlier in the shadowed hallway by the infirmary. When he broke the kiss, could see I wasn't the only one affected by it, not with the way his chest rose and fell as he drew several deep breaths. Hands still on my face, eyes locked with mine, he waited until we were both breathing normal before giving a nod.
That nod was his signal for me to go ahead and undress. Something else he likes is for me to strip down while he watches. And the way his eyes follow my movements with an almost hungry look makes me more than willing to do it. Sometimes I do it real slow just to see how far I can push him, but not tonight. Just stripped down and stood there while he walked around me, trailing his fingers over old scars, brushing lightly over a flesh wound I got in a shootout earlier today.
I've always been comfortable in my own skin. Never bothered me to stand around naked when others were fully-clothed. Don't know why that is, just is. But his fingers on my skin, the soft puff of air on my back from his breath, the rough scratch of stubble on my shoulder, all made me hyperaware that he hadn't yet stripped out of his own clothes, or even asked me to do it for him as he sometimes does. Got me to wondering if maybe he didn't have something else in mind for tonight.
Before I could ask about it, though, he stepped away from me and over to the desk, where I could see his bag sitting in its usual place. "I think I figured out something about you today, Mal," he said to me as he opened the bag.
"Yeah? What's that?" I asked, a little too cockily perhaps, but then I've never been a quick learner. Not as slow as some I could name, but sometimes do have to have the error of my ways pointed out to me. Repeatedly.
Doc laid a sterile pad on a tray then put gauze, scissors, tape and rubbing alcohol on it. Couldn't figure what he was doing since he hadn't even bandaged my wound earlier. Said he didn't see the point since I'd just take it off as soon as I left the room. He knows me too well. The sound of latex snapping into place drew my attention back to him just as he picked up a scalpel and walked over to stand in front of me.
"I think you get off on bloodshed. Isn't that right, Malcolm?" He looked up at me, didn't make a move or anything, just waited for me to speak my piece. Like he does every time we try something new.
"What?! Hey, no!" I raised my hands and backed off a step. "I mean, there's nothing wrong with a good brawl now and then to work off steam. And sometimes shit happens when we're on a job. But I don't 'get off' on it."
He just watched me with a considering look on his face. Knew that look. He wasn't going to force me to do anything I didn't want to do. But he was going to do his damnedest to make me want to do it. "Hmm…Let's just test that, shall we?"
Couldn't believe my eyes when he held out his arm and drew the scalpel down the inside of his forearm making a small cut. When he brought his arm up to his mouth and sucked on the wound, staring at me the whole time, couldn't help the groan that escaped, nor the way my cock twitched in interest. But it wasn't 'cause of the blood. Couldn't be. Had to be because I'd never seen anything as erotic as Doc licking his own skin. Didn't it?
"Your turn."
Shook my head, trying to clear the fog of lust clogging my brain. My turn? Stared in fascination as he held his arm out to me, the blood welling slowly around the cut. Knew I had to look confused as my glance moved back and forth between his face and arm. "Huh?"
"Lick it. Suck it. Either one." His voice was so calm, matter-of-fact. Like that wasn't an usual request.
Swallowing hard - how difficult could it be? - I reached out and grasped his arm, bringing it up to my mouth. Watching his face carefully, I flicked my tongue out for a quick lick. At the first taste of his blood, saltsweet and iron, my eyes drifted shut in an ecstasy usually reserved for orgasm. I licked the wound clean then sucked lightly, trying to follow that flavor to its origin. Could feel my cock swelling with anticipation. How had I not known this about myself? I'd tasted my blood before and never had it affected me like this. Why did his? And how did he know when I didn't? These questions and more roiled through my brain as I continued to suck until he pulled his arm away.
"That's enough for now." Raising an eyebrow at me, he ran the glove-coated fingers of his empty hand up my cock, teasing me as he sometimes did. "Still going to insist that you don't get off on it?"
I gulped and shook my head. How could I deny the evidence of my own traitorous body? Still couldn't understand why I was so turned on. Seen Doc hurt and bleeding plenty of times before. Others, too. Never got me riled like I was then. 'Fore I could think on it too much, Doc was moving away.
"Good. Glad to see you're not trying to deny the obvious." He had a small smile of satisfaction on his face, kind that usually makes me want to hit him.
Instead I just grinned back and scratched my cheek. "Yeah, well, don't see much point to it."
"No, there isn't any." That smile still firmly on his face, he laid the scalpel down on the tray and stripped off the gloves then started working on the buttons of his clothes. "Go ahead and lie down, Mal." He nodded towards the bed as he removed his shirt.
Figured we were done with all that talk about blood and such, so crawled onto the bed and propped myself up on an elbow, watching as Doc finished taking his clothes off. Something else I can't deny is how much I enjoy the way his muscles move under his skin. Still remember the surprise I felt first time I saw those muscles. Surprise and awe. And a whole lot of lust. Just something else he hides behind his pretty fits, but I ain't complaining that I'm the only one gets to see them. Not by a long shot.
Was so busy watching those muscles and thinking lustful thoughts, didn't even notice the protective cover on the bed. Forgot, too, about all them supplies he'd set out earlier. Remembered them right quick when he picked up the tray and brought it over to set by the bed. Noticed he'd added another pair of gloves and a couple of scalpels to the tray as well. When he sat down on the bed, rolled onto my back and put my hands behind my head, grinning up at him and ignoring the crackling noise as I shifted around on the cover. "Thought we were done with that stuff."
He laid his hand on my chest, fingers splayed right over my heart. Wondered if he could feel it racing with dread. Or was that anticipation? "And I thought we'd see if me tasting your blood is just as enjoyable as you tasting mine."
Wasn't really a question, but knew I could say no if I wanted to. Trouble was, wasn't sure I wanted to. Looked into his eyes, so steady and sure, patient as he waited for my decision. Could feel myself growing calmer under his touch. Licked my lips, wondered if that was just a hint of his flavor that I tasted, and asked, "What -" Couldn't quite get it out the first time, so swallowed hard and tried again. "What do I have to do?"
He leaned down and brushed his lips over mine. Sort of like a benediction. Not long enough to get caught up in him, just long enough for reassurance. Then his fingers were stroking my arm, guiding it to lie across my stomach, setting off goose bumps his touch was so light.
"You don't have to do anything. Just let me do all the work." Watched him pull on another set of gloves then reach down and pick up a piece of gauze and open the rubbing alcohol. The sharp tang of it filled my senses as he poured some on the gauze, took my hand, and wiped down the same spot on my arm that he'd cut on his. My chest tightened in anticipation.
He blew gently over my damp skin--couldn't help the quick, indrawn breath at the sensation--then picked up a scalpel, holding it so I could see it. "I'm going to give you several small cuts with this. They'll probably hurt, but less than that bullet that winged you this morning."
Started to protest that, but the look he gave me told me he wouldn't believe that it hadn't hurt, so kept my mouth shut and let him finish. "None of them will be deep enough to scar, you've got enough of those, but they'll probably take a day or two to heal, so other than this first one, I won't cut you anywhere anyone else can see."
He rubbed his thumb over my wrist, the cool slide of the latex a definite contrast to the warm skin I usually feel. "I don't want to tie you down, though I might decide to blindfold you before we finish. Can you lie still for me when I'm cutting you?"
Thought about it for a second or two. Could I? Wasn't like I'd never felt pain before, and the bullet hadn't hurt that much, not really. And, like I said, I trust Doc. "Think so. If I can't, can always ask you to tie me down. But, what if…" Was pretty sure I knew the answer to the question I was about to ask, but still, needed to know. "What if I wanna stop?"
Thought he might get upset at me asking. Should have known better. He smiled the soft smile that always sets my stomach trembling, not the big one that makes it turn over, just that little one that lets me know I've done something right. Something to make him proud of me. Something that… Wait, where was I? Oh, yeah. He smiled and told me, "The same rules apply as always, Malcolm." Did I tell you how much it thrills me when he says my name like that? Sends shivers down my spine. Anyway, to continue…
He asked me if I remembered what our rules are and, when I nodded, asked if there was anything else I wanted to know before we started. Only one thing occurred to me. Kind of made me blush to ask, but really wanted to know. "Do I get to taste your blood again?"
That's when he smiled that big smile. The one that really gets me going. Then he winked at me. "We'll see, Mal, but yes, I imagine you will." Then he held the scalpel next to my arm, remember the metal cool against my skin sending a different kind of shiver down my back. "Ready?"
Took a deep breath, told myself again that I trusted him, and nodded. Watched as he cut through my skin, hissed a bit at the sting of it, but he was right, didn't hurt as much as the bullet had. Didn't do anything for my libido, either. Maybe he was wrong after all? As we watched the blood ooze from the cut, wondered if I should point out that it wasn't exactly getting me excited.
Then he leaned down and, looking at me through his eyelashes, flicked his tongue over the cut.
That got my attention. Gasped at the softness of his tongue after the sharp blade. So different. Almost tickled. Wanted more. Didn't have to ask. He licked again. Slower.
Don't get me wrong. Not like he's never licked my skin before. Or me his. But there was something different about the sensation this time. It was more…focused. More intense. And when he started to suck on the wound, it was all I could do not to whimper.
Then he stopped sucking and started blowing. Couldn't keep my eyes open any more, or stop the moan that escaped. Knew I was getting hard again, too. Next thing I knew, his lips were on mine, and I was tasting my blood on his tongue, and it was so damn good, didn't want it to stop, ever. Groaned in protest when he pulled away, reaching out with my other hand, wanting to hold him close.
"Liked that, did you?" Could hear the smugness in his voice, but didn't rightly care.
"Mmm...hmm." Let my hand flop back down on the bed and lay there thinking about just how much I'd liked it.
"Want me to stop?"
My eyes flew open at that and saw him grinning down at me. The smug bastard. Sometimes he's too smart for his own good.
That wasn't one of those times.
Smiled back up at him and said the only word I could. "No."
"I didn't think so." Did I say he can be insufferably smug?
From there things progressed as you might expect. Watched him make the next few cuts, hissing at the slice of the blade, gasping at the touch of his tongue, trying not to anticipate where or when the next one would be, feeling my cock swell every time he sucked on one of the wounds, eyes falling shut at the almost unbearable pleasure of it all.
Could tell he was enjoying it, too, by the words falling out of his mouth. Words like 'Oh, yes.' 'That's it.' 'So shuài.' and 'Let me hear you, Mal.' Doc's quite the talker.
After a bit, lost track of how many cuts he made and just let the sensations flow over me. The sharp tang of the alcohol in the air. The slice of the blade. The coppery smell of blood. The scrape of his teeth on my skin. Slow drag of his tongue. Firm hands on my body, encouraging me to move where he wanted me. Kisses that lasted too long and not long enough. Before long I was moaning pretty much non-stop, arching up into his touch, close to begging for release.
"Malcolm. Open your eyes." Couldn't disobey the commanding tone. Opened my eyes. And what a sight I saw. Doc was stretched out on top of me, bracing himself up on one hand, and there on his chest, just over his heart, was a cut just beginning to ooze blood.
Don't have to tell you what that did to me. If my cock hadn't already been hard and needy, would have been then. And I'm thinking my own heart skipped a beat as I glanced back to his face, a question in my eyes.
He smiled and nodded, and as he took both our cocks in his hand, I stretched up and licked at his wound. The taste was just as stimulating as earlier, and before I knew it I was sucking hard on that cut, thrusting into his hand, our cocks rubbing against each other as he tugged and twisted, bringing us closer and closer to the edge, my balls tightening as sparks traveled down my spine, white heat surrounding me as I fell down, down into the dark nothing where the only sound I could hear was the murmur of his voice leading me slowly back to awareness.
Opened my eyes to see him licking our spunk off his fingers and smiled up at him. The smile he gave me in return made my heart do somersaults. He leaned down and kissed me. Soft and gentle.
"Are you all right?"
Had to think about it for a bit, wasn't quite back to the thinking stage, but finally decided that yeah, I was. Told him so, and he kissed me again.
"Good. Just lie still. I'm going to get something to clean you up. I'll be right back." He ran his hand down my arm and our fingers curled around each other for a moment before he stepped over to the wash basin.
Laid there in kind of a haze and watched him clean himself as water filled a bowl he'd put under the tap. Must have put some soap in there, too, 'cause there were lots of bubbles when he brought it back over and sat down next to me.
Couldn't keep my eyes from following his hands as he dipped a cloth in the water then twisted it before running it gently down my arm, cleaning away the blood. There wasn't as much as I expected. Not as much as I've had from gunshot and knife wounds.
He didn't say anything as he continued to wipe away the blood. Just watched me as I looked at all the cuts. There weren't really all that many. More than I cared to count, but not so many as I'd half feared. And, true to his word, none of them were where anyone but he and I would see. Long as I don't get shot bad in the next few days.
Then there were the ones on his body. Just two of them, but the one over his heart drew me the most. Reached out my hand to trace it, and met his eyes. Knew my confusion had to be there for him to see. "Why?"
He dropped the cloth into the bowl and took my hand, kissing my fingers before indicating that I should move so he could dispose of the protective cover. "Why what, Malcolm?"
Thought about that as I shifted carefully, didn't want to start any of the cuts bleeding again, and he pulled the cover off the bed. Why what? So many things I was wondering, but only two were important. Waited until he joined me on the bed, stretching out next to me and wrapping his arms around me. "Why did I like it so much?"
His hand stroked through my hair as he took his time answering my question. "To be honest, Mal, I don't know." Felt him kiss the top of my head as I moved closer. "I wasn't sure you would, but does it really matter?" Felt his shoulders move under my head as he shrugged. "People have all kinds of fetishes, or kinks if you will. Some are a little more unusual than others, but if consenting adults give and receive pleasure from them, do the whys and wherefores really matter?" Tipped my head up when his fingers came to rest under my chin, and there were no sounds in the room for the next few moments except those of our kisses.
When we stopped for breath, my hand automatically covered the cut on his chest. "Why here?"
He smiled tenderly as his fingers wrapped around mine. "Because it's the closest I can come to literally giving you my heart. I love you, you fēng le rén."
Knew my smile had to match his as I stretched up to whisper against his lips. "Love you, too, Simon."
So, all things considered, I'm sanguine, hopeful if you will, that Doc and I are gonna make a go of it.
Of course, sanguine also means bloody.
Author: lvs2read
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Simon/Mal
Warnings: Bloodplay
Disclaimer: Belongs to the almighty Joss Whedon. I'm just having fun playing.
Author's Notes: For prehistoric-sea, who wanted blood and/or tears, aftercare, and no shame, though reluctance was fine. Hope this meets your criteria, hon!
Also, thanks to woodsong-1978 and thunder-nari for betaing this for me. Couldn't have done it without you ladies! Thanks!
Sanguine
Doc and I have been sharing quarters off and on for nigh on a year now. Say 'off and on' 'cause there's times when one or the other of us feels the need for a mite more space than can be found in my bunk, and there's still nights when River needs him more than I do, but on the whole, we've spent more nights together than not over the last year or so.
And, yes, did say I need him. Kind of took me by surprise when I realized that. Thought I didn't need anything more than my ship, my crew, and my sky to fill the endless roll of days left to me after the war. Thought that right up until the time Doc shoved me against the bulkhead in a fit of pique. Course, I struggled. I'm the captain. Ain't no one supposed to do any shoving unless it's me. But Doc's stronger than he looks, and before I knew it, he'd thrust his knee between my thighs and pulled my head down for a hard, bruising kiss. That's about the time I quit resisting.
Know what you're thinking. "Malcolm Reynolds, I thought you leaned toward women?" It's true, I do, but I've been known to bend toward men. Especially when they're as easy on the eyes as Doc. And truth to tell, I'd been wondering how that mouth of his tasted far too long for my own peace of mind. Turned out it tasted pretty damn good.
So, anyway, like I was saying, found out then how much I need him. Found out, too, that he needs me just as much. See, there's not a lot of things he can control in his life. Too many variables for him what with River's troubles and the law being after them. And, me? Well, sometimes I try to control too many things and stretch myself too thin. But not in the bunk. There we switch roles as it were. He's the protector, the one in charge, the leader. And I trust him more than I've trusted anyone since joining up.
Course, that trust didn't come easy. I've struggled with that side of myself more times than I care to say. Never thought I'd be one for taking orders. Oh, sure, took them in the war, but that was different. And even then, fought against some of them. Now, when I struggle, Doc helps me through it, talks it out with me, makes me understand why I need to let it go, and then takes me so deep inside myself I'd be lost if he wasn't right there, catching me when I fall, guiding me back with gentle touches and a soothing voice.
It's not all about taking orders, though. It's about giving and receiving pleasure in any number of ways. And let me tell you something - behind those fancy vests and starched shirts, Doc's got one hell of a kinky mind. Downright surprising, some of the things he comes up with. And while sometimes I ain't too sure going in, he's never given me any reason to doubt that the outcome's going to be pleasurable. Take tonight for instance.
Came down into the bunk after making one last round of the ship, a habit I got into after that bounty hunter took us by surprise, and there he was, waiting for me. Nothing so unusual about that. Sometimes he's there before me, sometimes not. Don't make no nevermind to either of us who gets there first, so long as we both end up there eventually.
So, anyway, I closed the hatch and walked over to kiss him as is my wont - he likes to be greeted that way, and I got no reason to complain, not with the way his kisses take my breath away. True to form, we kissed 'til my head spun, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip igniting desire in my gut, his hands on my face grounding me in the here and now even as his tongue threatened to send my thoughts skittering as it swept over my lips and into my mouth, exploring me like he hadn't just tasted me a few hours earlier in the shadowed hallway by the infirmary. When he broke the kiss, could see I wasn't the only one affected by it, not with the way his chest rose and fell as he drew several deep breaths. Hands still on my face, eyes locked with mine, he waited until we were both breathing normal before giving a nod.
That nod was his signal for me to go ahead and undress. Something else he likes is for me to strip down while he watches. And the way his eyes follow my movements with an almost hungry look makes me more than willing to do it. Sometimes I do it real slow just to see how far I can push him, but not tonight. Just stripped down and stood there while he walked around me, trailing his fingers over old scars, brushing lightly over a flesh wound I got in a shootout earlier today.
I've always been comfortable in my own skin. Never bothered me to stand around naked when others were fully-clothed. Don't know why that is, just is. But his fingers on my skin, the soft puff of air on my back from his breath, the rough scratch of stubble on my shoulder, all made me hyperaware that he hadn't yet stripped out of his own clothes, or even asked me to do it for him as he sometimes does. Got me to wondering if maybe he didn't have something else in mind for tonight.
Before I could ask about it, though, he stepped away from me and over to the desk, where I could see his bag sitting in its usual place. "I think I figured out something about you today, Mal," he said to me as he opened the bag.
"Yeah? What's that?" I asked, a little too cockily perhaps, but then I've never been a quick learner. Not as slow as some I could name, but sometimes do have to have the error of my ways pointed out to me. Repeatedly.
Doc laid a sterile pad on a tray then put gauze, scissors, tape and rubbing alcohol on it. Couldn't figure what he was doing since he hadn't even bandaged my wound earlier. Said he didn't see the point since I'd just take it off as soon as I left the room. He knows me too well. The sound of latex snapping into place drew my attention back to him just as he picked up a scalpel and walked over to stand in front of me.
"I think you get off on bloodshed. Isn't that right, Malcolm?" He looked up at me, didn't make a move or anything, just waited for me to speak my piece. Like he does every time we try something new.
"What?! Hey, no!" I raised my hands and backed off a step. "I mean, there's nothing wrong with a good brawl now and then to work off steam. And sometimes shit happens when we're on a job. But I don't 'get off' on it."
He just watched me with a considering look on his face. Knew that look. He wasn't going to force me to do anything I didn't want to do. But he was going to do his damnedest to make me want to do it. "Hmm…Let's just test that, shall we?"
Couldn't believe my eyes when he held out his arm and drew the scalpel down the inside of his forearm making a small cut. When he brought his arm up to his mouth and sucked on the wound, staring at me the whole time, couldn't help the groan that escaped, nor the way my cock twitched in interest. But it wasn't 'cause of the blood. Couldn't be. Had to be because I'd never seen anything as erotic as Doc licking his own skin. Didn't it?
"Your turn."
Shook my head, trying to clear the fog of lust clogging my brain. My turn? Stared in fascination as he held his arm out to me, the blood welling slowly around the cut. Knew I had to look confused as my glance moved back and forth between his face and arm. "Huh?"
"Lick it. Suck it. Either one." His voice was so calm, matter-of-fact. Like that wasn't an usual request.
Swallowing hard - how difficult could it be? - I reached out and grasped his arm, bringing it up to my mouth. Watching his face carefully, I flicked my tongue out for a quick lick. At the first taste of his blood, saltsweet and iron, my eyes drifted shut in an ecstasy usually reserved for orgasm. I licked the wound clean then sucked lightly, trying to follow that flavor to its origin. Could feel my cock swelling with anticipation. How had I not known this about myself? I'd tasted my blood before and never had it affected me like this. Why did his? And how did he know when I didn't? These questions and more roiled through my brain as I continued to suck until he pulled his arm away.
"That's enough for now." Raising an eyebrow at me, he ran the glove-coated fingers of his empty hand up my cock, teasing me as he sometimes did. "Still going to insist that you don't get off on it?"
I gulped and shook my head. How could I deny the evidence of my own traitorous body? Still couldn't understand why I was so turned on. Seen Doc hurt and bleeding plenty of times before. Others, too. Never got me riled like I was then. 'Fore I could think on it too much, Doc was moving away.
"Good. Glad to see you're not trying to deny the obvious." He had a small smile of satisfaction on his face, kind that usually makes me want to hit him.
Instead I just grinned back and scratched my cheek. "Yeah, well, don't see much point to it."
"No, there isn't any." That smile still firmly on his face, he laid the scalpel down on the tray and stripped off the gloves then started working on the buttons of his clothes. "Go ahead and lie down, Mal." He nodded towards the bed as he removed his shirt.
Figured we were done with all that talk about blood and such, so crawled onto the bed and propped myself up on an elbow, watching as Doc finished taking his clothes off. Something else I can't deny is how much I enjoy the way his muscles move under his skin. Still remember the surprise I felt first time I saw those muscles. Surprise and awe. And a whole lot of lust. Just something else he hides behind his pretty fits, but I ain't complaining that I'm the only one gets to see them. Not by a long shot.
Was so busy watching those muscles and thinking lustful thoughts, didn't even notice the protective cover on the bed. Forgot, too, about all them supplies he'd set out earlier. Remembered them right quick when he picked up the tray and brought it over to set by the bed. Noticed he'd added another pair of gloves and a couple of scalpels to the tray as well. When he sat down on the bed, rolled onto my back and put my hands behind my head, grinning up at him and ignoring the crackling noise as I shifted around on the cover. "Thought we were done with that stuff."
He laid his hand on my chest, fingers splayed right over my heart. Wondered if he could feel it racing with dread. Or was that anticipation? "And I thought we'd see if me tasting your blood is just as enjoyable as you tasting mine."
Wasn't really a question, but knew I could say no if I wanted to. Trouble was, wasn't sure I wanted to. Looked into his eyes, so steady and sure, patient as he waited for my decision. Could feel myself growing calmer under his touch. Licked my lips, wondered if that was just a hint of his flavor that I tasted, and asked, "What -" Couldn't quite get it out the first time, so swallowed hard and tried again. "What do I have to do?"
He leaned down and brushed his lips over mine. Sort of like a benediction. Not long enough to get caught up in him, just long enough for reassurance. Then his fingers were stroking my arm, guiding it to lie across my stomach, setting off goose bumps his touch was so light.
"You don't have to do anything. Just let me do all the work." Watched him pull on another set of gloves then reach down and pick up a piece of gauze and open the rubbing alcohol. The sharp tang of it filled my senses as he poured some on the gauze, took my hand, and wiped down the same spot on my arm that he'd cut on his. My chest tightened in anticipation.
He blew gently over my damp skin--couldn't help the quick, indrawn breath at the sensation--then picked up a scalpel, holding it so I could see it. "I'm going to give you several small cuts with this. They'll probably hurt, but less than that bullet that winged you this morning."
Started to protest that, but the look he gave me told me he wouldn't believe that it hadn't hurt, so kept my mouth shut and let him finish. "None of them will be deep enough to scar, you've got enough of those, but they'll probably take a day or two to heal, so other than this first one, I won't cut you anywhere anyone else can see."
He rubbed his thumb over my wrist, the cool slide of the latex a definite contrast to the warm skin I usually feel. "I don't want to tie you down, though I might decide to blindfold you before we finish. Can you lie still for me when I'm cutting you?"
Thought about it for a second or two. Could I? Wasn't like I'd never felt pain before, and the bullet hadn't hurt that much, not really. And, like I said, I trust Doc. "Think so. If I can't, can always ask you to tie me down. But, what if…" Was pretty sure I knew the answer to the question I was about to ask, but still, needed to know. "What if I wanna stop?"
Thought he might get upset at me asking. Should have known better. He smiled the soft smile that always sets my stomach trembling, not the big one that makes it turn over, just that little one that lets me know I've done something right. Something to make him proud of me. Something that… Wait, where was I? Oh, yeah. He smiled and told me, "The same rules apply as always, Malcolm." Did I tell you how much it thrills me when he says my name like that? Sends shivers down my spine. Anyway, to continue…
He asked me if I remembered what our rules are and, when I nodded, asked if there was anything else I wanted to know before we started. Only one thing occurred to me. Kind of made me blush to ask, but really wanted to know. "Do I get to taste your blood again?"
That's when he smiled that big smile. The one that really gets me going. Then he winked at me. "We'll see, Mal, but yes, I imagine you will." Then he held the scalpel next to my arm, remember the metal cool against my skin sending a different kind of shiver down my back. "Ready?"
Took a deep breath, told myself again that I trusted him, and nodded. Watched as he cut through my skin, hissed a bit at the sting of it, but he was right, didn't hurt as much as the bullet had. Didn't do anything for my libido, either. Maybe he was wrong after all? As we watched the blood ooze from the cut, wondered if I should point out that it wasn't exactly getting me excited.
Then he leaned down and, looking at me through his eyelashes, flicked his tongue over the cut.
That got my attention. Gasped at the softness of his tongue after the sharp blade. So different. Almost tickled. Wanted more. Didn't have to ask. He licked again. Slower.
Don't get me wrong. Not like he's never licked my skin before. Or me his. But there was something different about the sensation this time. It was more…focused. More intense. And when he started to suck on the wound, it was all I could do not to whimper.
Then he stopped sucking and started blowing. Couldn't keep my eyes open any more, or stop the moan that escaped. Knew I was getting hard again, too. Next thing I knew, his lips were on mine, and I was tasting my blood on his tongue, and it was so damn good, didn't want it to stop, ever. Groaned in protest when he pulled away, reaching out with my other hand, wanting to hold him close.
"Liked that, did you?" Could hear the smugness in his voice, but didn't rightly care.
"Mmm...hmm." Let my hand flop back down on the bed and lay there thinking about just how much I'd liked it.
"Want me to stop?"
My eyes flew open at that and saw him grinning down at me. The smug bastard. Sometimes he's too smart for his own good.
That wasn't one of those times.
Smiled back up at him and said the only word I could. "No."
"I didn't think so." Did I say he can be insufferably smug?
From there things progressed as you might expect. Watched him make the next few cuts, hissing at the slice of the blade, gasping at the touch of his tongue, trying not to anticipate where or when the next one would be, feeling my cock swell every time he sucked on one of the wounds, eyes falling shut at the almost unbearable pleasure of it all.
Could tell he was enjoying it, too, by the words falling out of his mouth. Words like 'Oh, yes.' 'That's it.' 'So shuài.' and 'Let me hear you, Mal.' Doc's quite the talker.
After a bit, lost track of how many cuts he made and just let the sensations flow over me. The sharp tang of the alcohol in the air. The slice of the blade. The coppery smell of blood. The scrape of his teeth on my skin. Slow drag of his tongue. Firm hands on my body, encouraging me to move where he wanted me. Kisses that lasted too long and not long enough. Before long I was moaning pretty much non-stop, arching up into his touch, close to begging for release.
"Malcolm. Open your eyes." Couldn't disobey the commanding tone. Opened my eyes. And what a sight I saw. Doc was stretched out on top of me, bracing himself up on one hand, and there on his chest, just over his heart, was a cut just beginning to ooze blood.
Don't have to tell you what that did to me. If my cock hadn't already been hard and needy, would have been then. And I'm thinking my own heart skipped a beat as I glanced back to his face, a question in my eyes.
He smiled and nodded, and as he took both our cocks in his hand, I stretched up and licked at his wound. The taste was just as stimulating as earlier, and before I knew it I was sucking hard on that cut, thrusting into his hand, our cocks rubbing against each other as he tugged and twisted, bringing us closer and closer to the edge, my balls tightening as sparks traveled down my spine, white heat surrounding me as I fell down, down into the dark nothing where the only sound I could hear was the murmur of his voice leading me slowly back to awareness.
Opened my eyes to see him licking our spunk off his fingers and smiled up at him. The smile he gave me in return made my heart do somersaults. He leaned down and kissed me. Soft and gentle.
"Are you all right?"
Had to think about it for a bit, wasn't quite back to the thinking stage, but finally decided that yeah, I was. Told him so, and he kissed me again.
"Good. Just lie still. I'm going to get something to clean you up. I'll be right back." He ran his hand down my arm and our fingers curled around each other for a moment before he stepped over to the wash basin.
Laid there in kind of a haze and watched him clean himself as water filled a bowl he'd put under the tap. Must have put some soap in there, too, 'cause there were lots of bubbles when he brought it back over and sat down next to me.
Couldn't keep my eyes from following his hands as he dipped a cloth in the water then twisted it before running it gently down my arm, cleaning away the blood. There wasn't as much as I expected. Not as much as I've had from gunshot and knife wounds.
He didn't say anything as he continued to wipe away the blood. Just watched me as I looked at all the cuts. There weren't really all that many. More than I cared to count, but not so many as I'd half feared. And, true to his word, none of them were where anyone but he and I would see. Long as I don't get shot bad in the next few days.
Then there were the ones on his body. Just two of them, but the one over his heart drew me the most. Reached out my hand to trace it, and met his eyes. Knew my confusion had to be there for him to see. "Why?"
He dropped the cloth into the bowl and took my hand, kissing my fingers before indicating that I should move so he could dispose of the protective cover. "Why what, Malcolm?"
Thought about that as I shifted carefully, didn't want to start any of the cuts bleeding again, and he pulled the cover off the bed. Why what? So many things I was wondering, but only two were important. Waited until he joined me on the bed, stretching out next to me and wrapping his arms around me. "Why did I like it so much?"
His hand stroked through my hair as he took his time answering my question. "To be honest, Mal, I don't know." Felt him kiss the top of my head as I moved closer. "I wasn't sure you would, but does it really matter?" Felt his shoulders move under my head as he shrugged. "People have all kinds of fetishes, or kinks if you will. Some are a little more unusual than others, but if consenting adults give and receive pleasure from them, do the whys and wherefores really matter?" Tipped my head up when his fingers came to rest under my chin, and there were no sounds in the room for the next few moments except those of our kisses.
When we stopped for breath, my hand automatically covered the cut on his chest. "Why here?"
He smiled tenderly as his fingers wrapped around mine. "Because it's the closest I can come to literally giving you my heart. I love you, you fēng le rén."
Knew my smile had to match his as I stretched up to whisper against his lips. "Love you, too, Simon."
So, all things considered, I'm sanguine, hopeful if you will, that Doc and I are gonna make a go of it.
Of course, sanguine also means bloody.