Tension Relief By: randi (as Keith) and JoAnn (as Sven)
Disclaimer: WEPownsVoltron Bah.
Sven followed Keith with his eyes. His commander's motions were sharper, his reactions wound a fraction tighter than they ought to be for optimum effect. It was time. Sven smiled.
He could feel eyes on him, following him everywhere he went. Every step he took was monitored and catalogued and damn it, he didn't like it.
Keith sighed quietly. Especially since he knew the desire behind the eyes.
Sven picked his moment carefully. He watched Keith and made sure Keith knew he was being watched -- not hard to do, as ... nervous ... as Keith was becoming. Sven believed in actions rather than words that disappeared. And Keith never changed the locks on his doors. If he had changed the lock, Sven would have taken that as a 'No' but since he didn't, Sven took it for an open invitation.
Keith really wished it could have come as a shock, that he could act startled to find Sven in his quarters, and maybe just ... well, throw him off a little.
Not that that would help any . . .
But when he stepped through the door that evening, feeling a bit guilty for snapping at Lance over nothing, and saw the tall Swede backlit by the sunset, a demon shadow outlined by the flaming sky, he could honestly admit that he wasn't at all surprised.
"Sven," he said, and prided himself on keeping his voice even.
Watching Keith vibrate with tension was one of the least complicated pleasures in his life. Sven paced forward, caging Keith with his eyes, and his hands planted around his body.
One hand slid down and locked the door.
Keith allowed one finely controlled shiver to run through him. The *click* of the lock sounded more like the crack of doom to his ears. But he raised his chin in response to Sven's cold leer, and told himself that he would not let Sven see him react like that again.
Somehow, his lips had gone terribly dry, but he resisted the urge to dampen them again.
Looking not into Sven's steely eyes, but rather at the point of his nose, he waited, waited, feeling his nerves sing through him with the tension in the air.
Emotions chased themselves across Keith's expressive eyes, the one quiver Keith allowed himself was savored all the more for its uniqueness. There was a reason why Sven kept returning to play with Keith. All that emotion was seen only in flashes and buried behind a crumbling mask of calm. Sven had the small-boy-urge to simply *smash* that mask.
But if he did that, he wouldn't be able to keep doing this.
He didn't really want to break Keith. Just… bend him. Hard. And feel the fine tremor that was Keith *almost* breaking.
Sven's hands drifted feather-light up his back, over his shoulders, down his arms, but he stood stoic, trying not to betray the way his stomach was fluttering. Control, Keith told himself over and over, and did not let himself close his eyes.
A tiny smile quirked the corner of Sven's mouth, chilling him to the bone.
The struggle in Keith's eyes, the fight against the despised lust Sven could so easily summon – the way Keith stayed so very still merely concentrated all of it.
But this wasn't the first time they'd done this, this wasn't the first time Sven had the delight of all of Keith under his power. So he knew just what to do to make him even more beautifully conflicted.
Without warning, Sven's hands closed, viselike, on Keith's wrists. Savoring the rising panic in those black, black eyes, still, Sven barely paused before claiming Keith's mouth.
Who struggled, not because he wanted to give Sven the satisfaction- far from it!- but because he couldn't help himself. But the Swede had all the leverage, and a bit more muscle, and Keith found that though he could twist his wrists, he could not break free.
Sven's tongue wormed its way into his mouth, daring him to bite down. He kept his own tongue as uninvolved as he could, but it could not help but respond to the invader that poked and prodded.
He forced himself to stillness again, hoping that this was all Sven wanted, but knowing that there was more humiliation to come.
While Keith realized, once again, that he couldn't break free of Sven's grip, Sven reacquainted himself with the inside of Keith's mouth. Smooth teeth, bumpy ridge of palate, soft give of the cheeks. Initially quiescent tongue that, as usual, eventually responded. The taste of mint and chocolate and the faintest ghost of expensive scotch were overlaid by the rich taste that Sven could only label as *Keith*. Pulling free of the wet heat, Sven caught the complex layers of emotions that he'd only ever found in the man before him. Resignation over fear over deeply stifled anticipation and desire. And, again, all of it concentrated by the stillness Keith fought with.
Fondly, Sven rubbed his nose against Keith's. Yes. There was a reason why he went to Keith, rather than any of the others.
Opening the space between them, Sven easily forced Keith's hands above his head, and pinned both wrists with one hand. Now, things would truly get interesting.
It was so hard not to turn away from the hand that brushed his cheek, harder yet not to turn into the touch. His breath shuddered in his chest as the hand trailed down his neck, his chest, just barely tangible even through the worn fabric of his flight suit. His waist, now, then ghosting around to his flank, and further down . . .
Lightning quick, the hand grabbed at one cheek of his ass, and he gasped as Sven rocked his hips forward, so they were body to body, their clothing only a thin barrier between them.
Sven reclaimed Keith's mouth, slowly tongue-fucking him as a promise of what was to come. He kept his hips completely still, the better to enjoy the slow, helpless engorgement of Keith's cock against his own and the instinctive movements of Keith's hips against his.
For a minute, he increased the intensity of his kiss, until Keith was helplessly responding, lost.
And then, Sven stepped back until no part of his body touched Keith's. There was nothing in his face to show that a moment ago he'd been all but grinding Keith through the wall.
Taking in the wrecked and panting mess that was his commanding officer, Sven smiled.
Feeling the pressure against his pelvis suddenly disappear, Keith opened his eyes. Sven stared at him, cool and impervious and two steps away. Even his usual disdainful smirk was absent, but there was something in his eyes that told Keith all he needed to know. This wasn't over yet.
He was loose. Of necessity, Sven had had to release his hands. Slowly, he lowered them once more, his fingers itching to claw that smug look out of Sven's eyes. But he still wasn't free.
A whimper caught in the back of his throat, as his flight suit rubbed across his sensitized skin, and he felt the arousal Sven had created surge through him.
Sven let his eyes linger over the sensitive parts of Keith's body. His face, glowing with arousal, red with frustrated fury and lust. His neck, at the angle of his jaw that Sven so liked to mark as his. The jut of Keith's collarbones. The thrust of his cock. The trembling knees. The toes Sven knew were curling, hidden though they were in boots. Letting his eyes sweep back up to meet Keith's now extremely angry eyes, Sven let his smile widen. "Don't you want to get more comfortable?"
Rather than answering, Keith simply firmed his mouth into a thin line. Was there a word stronger than hate to describe what he felt over what Sven did to him? He despised that the force, the kiss, the simple pressure of hips on hips could bring him to such a state.
At his sides, his hands clenched into impotent fists. But he did not move otherwise. His control was just strong enough to not give Sven the satisfaction.
Amusement flickered over Sven's face before the accustomed mask settled back in place. Thoughtfully, he moved back, closer to Keith. Smoothly, he pulled the zipper completely down. For someone who gave the appearance of being rule-bound, Keith was a closet sensualist. Why else would he be one zipper from almost complete nakedness? Lifting his eyes from the tempting skin, Sven enjoyed the outrage in Keith's black eyes. Unerringly, he placed a calloused fingertip on one of Keith's nipples, feeling the small nub tighten in reaction.
His breath caught in his throat as the touch- so impersonally personal, the way Sven insolently held his gaze- sent another jolt of excitement through him. That small nubbin of flesh seemed to have a direct connection to his groin. His hips flexed, and his knees weakened. As quickly as he could, he put some iron into his knees, kept his pelvis from moving even the most miniscule amount.
Almost roughly, Sven pushed the other flap of his open flight suit back, and flicked one cracked nail over the other nipple. His back arced, and no matter how he ground his teeth, a small whine broke from his closed throat.
Sven hummed. "If you wanted it the hard way, you could have just said so." Sven studied the flaring emotions that were slowly eroding Keith's mask. He played with the two small bits of flesh, the barest touch of his callouses, a sudden sharp pinch, a gentle tug, a slight twist. He relished the every sound he could coax out of Keith.
Slowly, hands still busy on Keith's chest, Sven bent forward and bit at the center of Keith's throat.
Keith watched the dark head draw closer and closer, and wished he had the daring to pull away and let Sven's teeth snap shut on air rather than him. He did not raise his chin for this, choosing instead to let Sven work for the taste of his skin. But he closed his eyes, and could not stifle a gasp when the slightly pointed teeth closed above his Adam's apple.
And his hands ... Sven's fingers were just chill enough to make his nipples that bit more sensitive, so that each tug, each flick, made him want to collapse in the most wanton fashion.
Keith shuddered as Sven's mouth worked up his throat, along the line of his jaw, bestowing nips and kisses almost at random. In the sensitive spot just beneath his ear, Sven bit down again, as if eager for the blood that flowed so rapidly just beneath the surface.
Sven smiled against the flesh trapped in his mouth. He could feel Keith's body trembling against his, and he played one more time with those so-sensitive nipples. Moving his hands up in a smooth sweep against goose-pimpled skin, he slipped his hands under his commander's flight suit, stripping Keith's upper body bare, the unzipped suit dangling precariously on Keith's hips.
Lifting his mouth free, he smiled to see the bright bloom of his mark on Keith's neck.
Then he spun Keith around, pressing him against the door in a movement that had Keith's hands flying up automatically to brace himself.
Sven studied the long pale line of Keith's back, and let a finger trail down the bumps of his spine.
Playing with Keith was so satisfying.
Keith's control had frayed so close to snapping that he could not stop the low sound that escaped him as Sven's finger traced his back. He could almost see the look of satisfaction that his tormentor wore, the smugness almost palpable in the room.
The finger reached the fold of his flight suit, where it had hung up on his hips, and paused.
Keith curled his hands into fists, scraping his knuckles against the door, but was able to hold his tongue.
He didn't even have a chance to sense the sudden movement behind him before the cool hands had grabbed his flight suit and peeled it down to the tops of his boots. It puddled on the floor between his feet.
It utterly horrified him that Sven would see him this way: nearly naked, without even the faint modesty of an undergarment, and his fists tightened, his joints turning white.
Sven smiled, and leaned against Keith, letting the fabric of his clothing rub against Keith's naked back. "No underwear? How delightful." Gently, he rubbed one finger against Keith's fluttering hole.
He thrust one thigh between Keith's, prying his legs apart as much as they could, with the flight suit around his ankles. The hand not playing with Keith's ass grabbed a hip, and yanked him out, displaying and positioning him just right.
Letting go, Sven unzipped his pants, and pulled his cock free.
Leaning in against Keith, he breathed the words against Keith's ear, savoring the trembling of the body trapped under him. "I'm going to fuck you now."
And that was all the warning he got. Less than a second later, the hand on his hip tightened, holding him in place, and he felt what was possibly the warmest part of Sven nudging against him, spreading him wide. He gasped and tensed as it opened him, feeling far too big to fit ...
Sven's fingers curled cruelly into the flesh of his hip, and he whimpered and tried to relax the muscle.
Slowly, as if savoring every centimeter, Sven thrust into him. And every centimeter burned, burned, until he was nothing but flame and sensation, his own cock straining painfully, stimulated from the inside.
It was several long minutes before Sven stopped, the fabric of his shirt rough against Keith's back, his trousers brushing the backs of his thighs and his ass.
Keith panted heavily, sweat trickling down the side of his face, to patter on the floor. But he didn't move.
Sven smiled against the back of Keith's neck. "Still want to be stubborn?" He pulled out, slowly savoring the grip of the tight ring of muscle around his cock. "It doesn't matter to me." He pumped back in, still slow, the burn still there, but the precum leaking from his cock slicking matters slightly. "But still. I would hate for you to think this is all for me." With that, he wrapped his hand around Keith's cock, pumping it in tandem with his thrusts, teasing the sensitive head with his fingers, playing with Keith's balls with his other hand.
Keith jerked as Sven closed his hands around him, threatening to drown him in feeling. Sven bit deep into the curve of his neck, where it joined the shoulder, and he stilled.
Of their own accord, his hips started to rock in counterpoint to Sven's, and he found that even that small part of his mind that wanted to remain detached, separate from this sordid incident, could not do so. A strangled sound worked its way from his throat as Sven sped up his thrusts, his hand gripping more firmly around Keith's cock.
His body defeated him, and he climaxed, his seed spilling against the door and over Sven's hand.
Shivering in the aftermath, he still couldn't help but notice Sven's final forceful thrusts, and the quiet groan that would not be stifled, hot and vibrating against his neck.
Sven withdrew, savoring the scent of cum and sweat that wreathed them. Tucking himself away, he stroked Keith's back one more time.
"As always, a pleasure, my commander."
Rolling Keith over to prop him against the wall near the door, Sven allowed himself one possessive, deep kiss.
Pulling free he tapped Keith's mouth. "Until next time."
Opening the door, he left.
Moving slowly, Keith straightened away from the wall and palmed the door closed, then bent very cautiously to pick up the tangled mess of his flight suit.
Wetness and warmth leaked out of him, trickling down his leg.
The little aftershocks of pleasure that had held him dazed while Sven plundered his mouth finally melted away. He looked down at himself, then away, ashamed.
But he could not escape the way his entire room now smelled of sex, nor the burn that still lingered.
His mouth twisted. Walking very carefully, he made his way to his bathroom. Turning on the shower full blast, he stepped in, still clutching his flight suit, holding it up around his thighs.
He lifted his face to the spray.
And allowed himself a very small, private smile.