Old Habits (J/A) (One-Shot)
This fic is rated: D for Disturbing
Fandom: James Bond: Goldeneye
Characters/Pairing: James/Alec
Summary: AU -- Alec won, and took James captive.
Warnings: Man-sex, gun-play, and hints of Very Bad Things in store for our Mr. Bond.
Word Count: 625
Feedback: yes, please!
X-Posted: were_lemur, forengland
Disclaimer: I don't own James Bond. I don't own Alec Trevelyan either (alas), nor any other recognizable characters mentioned in this fic. James, Alec, etc. are all property of Ian Fleming and MGM. I'm just playing with them for a while. Not making any money, don't have any money, please don't sue!
One minute, they were fighting, the next, Alec closed in and slammed James against the wall. Stepped back away to grab the pistol, then returned, to shove it in his mouth.
"I was always better," he said.
Any second, James thought, he would pull the trigger. End his life.
The gun's front sight scraped against his palate, triggering a stream of memories. Tastes of gun oil and cordite. Alec looking at him. Green eyes intense, as he manipulated the gun, pushing it deeper.
He realized he was hard.
Why the hell didn't Alec pull the trigger?
Instead, Alec shoved the gun deeper, far enough to make him gag. Then he pulled it half-way out. Shoved it deep in again, until he choked.
His legs went wobbly. His fell forward. Pain jolted up his knees, but it felt far away. Distant.
He tilted his head back, giving Alec a better angle. Letting the gun slide in and out. Rocked his head back and forth, to increase penetration. When Alec pulled the gun back out, James slid the tip of his tongue into the barrel.
"Yes ... " Alec whispered. His hand dropped to the top of James's head, fingers tangled in his hair. Tipped his head all the way back, forced the gun in as far as it would go. James could see his finger tighten on the trigger ...
And then he jerked the gun out, so fast the front sight opened a cut in the roof of his mouth. He tasted blood. Before he could react, Alec reversed the gun, and slammed the butt into the side of his head. The world went dark.
* * *
When he woke, he was tied to a bed. He kept his eyes closed, tried to listen for any clues to location, situation.
"I know you're awake." Alec's voice sounded smug. "You never could fool me."
James opened his eyes. "Unlike you. You had me fooled all along." He stared at Alec, who was sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed. His right arm was in a sling, and butterfly bandages held the edges of the cuts on his face together.
"Did I?" Alec's expression was closed, unreadable. "It certainly didn't stop you from denying my vengeance, destroying my plans ...
"I hope you aren't expecting an apology."
"Ah, James, you never fail to entertain." Alec pushed himself to his feet -- moving a little stiffly, James noted with a hint of grim satisfaction -- and walked around to the side of the bed. With the back of his hand, he stroked James's cheek. James closed his eyes at the warmth of that touch.
He had no warning, when Alec backhanded him.
He kept his eyes closed for a long moment, before looking back up at Alec. "Feel better?"
"Not yet." Alec reached down and grabbed his hair, held him still as he bent over him, close enough to kiss. Before he could, though, James nipped at him.
"You never did give up easily," Alec murmured. Then he smiled. "I'll enjoy breaking you. Making you scream. Making you beg."
"You can try," James said, feeling himself grow hard. Old habits.
"It'll go easier if you surrender now."
"And miss out on all the fun?"
"I knew I could count on you, James."
"Was there ever any doubt?"
"Never," Alec whispered, with something almost like affection in his voice. He picked up a pistol from the bedside table, and ran it up the inside of his leg.
James closed his eyes, and tilted his head back, and waited to see what Alec had in mind. As he waited, breathless with anticipation, the thought floated through his mind: The bloodier the battle, the sweeter the surrender.
Fandom: James Bond: Goldeneye
Characters/Pairing: James/Alec
Summary: AU -- Alec won, and took James captive.
Warnings: Man-sex, gun-play, and hints of Very Bad Things in store for our Mr. Bond.
Word Count: 625
Feedback: yes, please!
X-Posted: were_lemur, forengland
Disclaimer: I don't own James Bond. I don't own Alec Trevelyan either (alas), nor any other recognizable characters mentioned in this fic. James, Alec, etc. are all property of Ian Fleming and MGM. I'm just playing with them for a while. Not making any money, don't have any money, please don't sue!
One minute, they were fighting, the next, Alec closed in and slammed James against the wall. Stepped back away to grab the pistol, then returned, to shove it in his mouth.
"I was always better," he said.
Any second, James thought, he would pull the trigger. End his life.
The gun's front sight scraped against his palate, triggering a stream of memories. Tastes of gun oil and cordite. Alec looking at him. Green eyes intense, as he manipulated the gun, pushing it deeper.
He realized he was hard.
Why the hell didn't Alec pull the trigger?
Instead, Alec shoved the gun deeper, far enough to make him gag. Then he pulled it half-way out. Shoved it deep in again, until he choked.
His legs went wobbly. His fell forward. Pain jolted up his knees, but it felt far away. Distant.
He tilted his head back, giving Alec a better angle. Letting the gun slide in and out. Rocked his head back and forth, to increase penetration. When Alec pulled the gun back out, James slid the tip of his tongue into the barrel.
"Yes ... " Alec whispered. His hand dropped to the top of James's head, fingers tangled in his hair. Tipped his head all the way back, forced the gun in as far as it would go. James could see his finger tighten on the trigger ...
And then he jerked the gun out, so fast the front sight opened a cut in the roof of his mouth. He tasted blood. Before he could react, Alec reversed the gun, and slammed the butt into the side of his head. The world went dark.
* * *
When he woke, he was tied to a bed. He kept his eyes closed, tried to listen for any clues to location, situation.
"I know you're awake." Alec's voice sounded smug. "You never could fool me."
James opened his eyes. "Unlike you. You had me fooled all along." He stared at Alec, who was sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed. His right arm was in a sling, and butterfly bandages held the edges of the cuts on his face together.
"Did I?" Alec's expression was closed, unreadable. "It certainly didn't stop you from denying my vengeance, destroying my plans ...
"I hope you aren't expecting an apology."
"Ah, James, you never fail to entertain." Alec pushed himself to his feet -- moving a little stiffly, James noted with a hint of grim satisfaction -- and walked around to the side of the bed. With the back of his hand, he stroked James's cheek. James closed his eyes at the warmth of that touch.
He had no warning, when Alec backhanded him.
He kept his eyes closed for a long moment, before looking back up at Alec. "Feel better?"
"Not yet." Alec reached down and grabbed his hair, held him still as he bent over him, close enough to kiss. Before he could, though, James nipped at him.
"You never did give up easily," Alec murmured. Then he smiled. "I'll enjoy breaking you. Making you scream. Making you beg."
"You can try," James said, feeling himself grow hard. Old habits.
"It'll go easier if you surrender now."
"And miss out on all the fun?"
"I knew I could count on you, James."
"Was there ever any doubt?"
"Never," Alec whispered, with something almost like affection in his voice. He picked up a pistol from the bedside table, and ran it up the inside of his leg.
James closed his eyes, and tilted his head back, and waited to see what Alec had in mind. As he waited, breathless with anticipation, the thought floated through his mind: The bloodier the battle, the sweeter the surrender.