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Generation Kill Fic: If He Moves When He Shouldn't
The other night I was feeling stuck on what I was supposed to be writing, and ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
celli suggested I take a crack at the 50 Smuts of Gray Challenge. Looking through the selection of grays, I immediately caught on #21, Duct, and remembered that I owed frostfire a scene of Nate topping the hell out of Brad. So then this happened.
Many thanks to Celli and Frost for inciting this,iulia for cheering it on, and missmollyetc and petra for beta.
Nate/Brad. Explicit. Duct tape bondage. 2400 words.
"I distinctly remember informing you that if you left my bed before I was finished with you, I would duct tape you to it."
If He Moves When He Shouldn't
"I distinctly remember informing you that if you left my bed before I was finished with you, I would duct tape you to it."
Brad looked up from his contemplation of the contents of Nate's fridge as Nate brushed past him with a fleeting warm contact of skin on skin that was startling in the cold air. Nate hadn't bothered to put anything on when he got out of bed, either.
Nate didn't look over at Brad, just opened a kitchen drawer and pulled out a roll of duct tape, which he set down firmly on the counter before opening a cupboard and pulling out the first aid kit.
Brad raised his eyebrows, but his dick was already stirring. After six months of deprivation, he was more than ready to go twice in a night, and they'd never have gotten to where they were if Brad minded taking orders from Nate. "My mistake, sir. From the way you passed out I figured you were done."
"I'm done when I tell you I'm done," Nate said calmly, folding his arms as he leaned against the counter. Brad looked him up and down; without any clothes in the way it was easy to see that Nate was just as much up for pushing Brad around as Brad was for being pushed.
"May I ask what the first aid kit's for, sir?" Brad shut the fridge and left his hands at his sides, not quite at attention but playing out his part.
"You, obviously." Nate tilted his head with an expression of faint concern, like it worried him that Brad had even needed to ask. He picked up the plastic box along with the duct tape. "Now move, Sergeant, or I'll move you."
Brad nodded and turned sharply on his heel, making his way back through the dark apartment to Nate's bed. His heart beat faster with every step, and with Nate behind him Brad was conscious of his own nakedness. The air felt cooler against his skin as he heated up.
"Lie on your back," Nate directed from behind him when Brad reached the bed. "Reach up and hold the headboard."
Brad obeyed. Nate's headboard was conveniently slatted, and Brad got a little bit harder thinking about Nate picking it out with something like this in mind. Nate followed him up onto the bed, dropping the tape and the first aid kit beside him and straddling Brad on all fours. There was enough light in the room for Brad to meet his eyes, and Nate looked down at him with a slight smile.
"Did I say welcome home?" Nate asked, not touching him anywhere but keeping him boxed in.
Brad nodded. Their first round of sex had made it abundantly clear, but Nate had said it in words as well.
"Welcome home," Nate repeated, lowering himself enough for a brush of lips. "I hope you got a drink of water before I came in, because I'm duct taping you to my bed now and not letting you leave."
"Understood," Brad said, flexing his wrists and smiling up at Nate.
Nate straightened up on his knees and grabbed the first aid kit, popping it open and pulling out a roll of gauze. He scooted up, his knees pressing into Brad's armpits, which put his dick directly above Brad's face while he wrapped gauze around Brad's wrists. Brad wanted to reach out and touch, but he only flexed his fingers around the slats of the headboard. He couldn't even raise his head very high with his arms in this position and with Nate over him, though if Nate were inclined to lean down a little lower they shouldn't have a problem. For now, though, Brad couldn't touch anything but the bed.
Brad squirmed. He had to move, and he couldn't do anything except rock his hips and feel his dick shifting against his thigh, getting harder from sheer frustration. Nate shifted over him, wrapping gauze around Brad's left wrist. Brad turned his head and got his lips to the inside of Nate's thigh. Nate's knees pinched in tighter on either side of him in answer, and Nate finished with the gauze and shifted the other way.
At the sound of duct tape coming off the roll, Brad shut his eyes and tightened his grip, doing his best to hold still. Nate wrapped it around his right wrist first, tight enough not to slip but not too tight. Brad kept his eyes shut while Nate let go of his wrist, leaving him still gripped tight by the tape, but without the warmth of Nate's fingers. Nate did something to secure him to the bed, making another flurry of harsh duct tape noises, and then added another wrapping of tape on Brad's wrist.
He repeated the procedure on the other side and by the time he finished Brad could feel sweat dripping down his side just from the effort of keeping still, just from being secured to Nate's bed.
"Test it." Nate sounded a little hoarse, and Brad looked up to see Nate looking down avidly at him. Nate's dick was definitely hard now.
Brad smiled a little and gave a couple of hard jerks against the tape—not his whole strength, but enough. The bed frame rattled and creaked, but everything held. The feeling of coming up short against his restraints went straight to his dick, and by the time Nate set the duct tape on the night stand Brad was hard as hell without Nate even touching him.
Nate moved off of him, kneeling beside him on the bed, and Brad felt the loss of Nate's presence above and around him. He gave a few experimental tugs at his taped wrists as Nate looked at him from a distance of two or three entirely uncalled-for inches.
"Hmmm," Nate said, running a ticklish-light touch Brad's from his throat to the top of his pubes, his hand close enough to Brad's dick that he could almost feel it through the air. "I suppose you're not going to be very useful as a pillow in this state."
"Distasteful though you will assuredly find it, sir, you may have to fuck me." Brad drew up his knees helpfully, letting them sag apart in invitation.
"You may have to shut up before I duct tape your mouth," Nate said idly, sliding his fingers across Brad's skin to the crease of his groin. Brad shuddered, hips hitching upward without his volition.
Brad licked his lips but didn't say a word.
"I am going to fuck you," Nate added, when Brad had been quiet long enough to demonstrate that he'd understood the order. "But I have plans for that; I'm going to take my time. Tomorrow. Right now I think I'd rather ride you."
Brad tried to breathe in a manner that conveyed yes please and thank you sir. Nate was still looking down thoughtfully at Brad's dick; he closed a hand casually on his own erection, jacking himself slowly while trailing his fingers too lightly over Brad's thigh. Brad's eyes closed as he shivered—wanting that hand on himself, wanting to be able to touch Nate. He was at Nate's mercy, forbidden even to ask for what he wanted.
"Yeah," Nate said softly, and Brad opened his eyes at the feeling of imminent contact, just in time to see Nate bending down over him, shifting his hand to Brad's opposite hip to brace himself. "I guess we've both had more than enough anticipation, haven't we."
Brad didn't have to find a way to express his affirmative, because Nate was kissing him. Brad strained closer, and Nate's hand slid under the back of his neck, tilting his head up into the kiss while Nate's other hand closed on Brad's cock. The sound Brad made was kiss-muffled, but he could feel Nate's mouth curve up in a smile at it. Brad was silent after that as Nate stroked him; he bit down hard on his tingling lip when Nate abruptly pulled away, mouth and hands leaving Brad all at once.
He felt more exposed than ever, given away. His fingers opened and closed on the headboard as Nate knelt up beside him, once again just looking down at him while Brad lay stretched out before him. Then Nate turned away, bending over to get at the night stand drawer. He dropped a wrapped condom onto the center of Brad's chest; the corner prickled against his skin and Brad twitched away from it, making it rustle in the silence. Nate rested a soothing hand on Brad's chest and moved to straddle him before he flipped open the top on the bottle of lube.
Brad's dick jumped, his balls aching with want, and he bit down harder on his lip, watching Nate and considering just how high he could arch off the bed. He had his feet down, he could probably....
Nate dropped the lube on Brad's chest next to the condom. He leaned forward, bracing one hand on the pillow beside Brad's head and reached behind him with the other.
Brad stayed very still, transfixed. Nate's lips parted and his eyes half-closed, and lube dripped cold onto Brad's belly. There was a small, wet, thoroughly obscene sound and Nate's whole body shivered as his breath caught. Brad couldn't hold back a wordless noise.
Nate opened his eyes and bared his teeth at Brad. "Do you know how many times I did this while you were gone? Wishing it was you—your fingers, your ass, anything as long as it was you—"
Nate's arm was moving, his whole body rocking on an awkward diagonal, and more lube spattered down onto Brad.
"And now you're right—fucking—here—and because you can't follow one simple instruction, it's still my ass and my fingers."
Brad thought, vaguely, that he should attempt to look apologetic, but that kind of effort was beyond him. He was gripping the headboard so hard he could feel every joint of his fingers straining, and he could hear Nate working himself open with his own fingers, and all the blood in his body was pounding in his dick. Brad turned his head, keeping his eyes on Nate's face, and managed to press his mouth to the side of Nate's wrist. It was all he could reach, and he kissed it as sloppily as he knew how, scraping his teeth over the soft skin, tonguing the hardness of bone.
"There is that," Nate said breathlessly, and then lifted his hand, knocking Brad's face away as he did.
Brad might have objected, but Nate grabbed the condom off of Brad's chest, tearing it open with his teeth. His other hand was still behind him, still moving, and Brad's toes curled with the effort of keeping still, not breaking the bed or burning his wrists raw to get free and touch. Nate made a face then, and his other hand came around before he scooted further back, down Brad's body. Brad shook as Nate got the condom on him, as Nate jacked him a few times—like he wasn't hard enough?—and then grabbed the lube and slicked him up.
"Nate," he gasped, and then winced, choking back any other sound, as Nate looked up sharply.
Nate's startled look broke toward a smile. "You're right. I'm not going to stop to gag you now. Especially not for saying that."
"Nate," Brad repeated, the word whooshing out of him irresistibly as Nate came forward again, keeping one hand on Brad's dick as he lined himself up. "Nate," as he lowered himself, biting his lip, "Nate," as Nate's ass pressed against the head of his dick. Brad held himself absolutely still, panting silently, eyes fixed on the intent look on Nate's face for that suspended moment.
Nate closed his eyes and pressed down onto him, and his dick was clutched in tight, tight heat, Nate. Nate's groan nearly covered Brad's.
Brad couldn't help rocking up into him, and Nate leaned forward, dropping his hands onto Brad's shoulders. "Yes."
Pain shot through Brad's wrists before he realized he needed to reach for Nate; Brad had no way to translate the motion but into a thrust up and then another. Nate moved with him, against him, amplifying his force, holding him down harder and freeing him to move. Brad couldn't get enough traction to really push up, but Nate gave him more than enough movement, working his dick hard and fast as Brad arched up into him, his head tilting back on the pillow.
He gasped out, "Nate, Nate, fuck," and shoved up hard as he came in Nate' ass, his whole body racked with it as Nate ground down onto him.
Nate sat up a little when Brad was finished, lying under him and gasping. Nate closed his hand on his own dick, and Brad couldn't help grinding up into Nate's ass, even feeling so oversensitive that the clutch of Nate's body around him was almost pain. Nate jerked himself off fast and hard, rocking down onto Brad's dick. He came all over Brad's chest, his ass tightening rhythmically on Brad's cock as he did. Brad made a last broken sound, watching Nate's dick and Nate's hand and the way Nate's eyes were fixed fiercely on him the whole time.
Brad met his gaze and held it for a few seconds after, both of them breathing hard. Brad cracked and grinned first, and then Nate folded forward, pulling off Brad's dick as he collapsed onto Brad's chest.
Brad twitched against the tape again, but Nate nestled into Brad without Brad needing to pull him closer. One of Nate's hands slid stickily up Brad's arm to his wrist, and Nate's fingers insinuated themselves into Brad's grip on the headboard.
"Hands okay?" Nate asked, half yawning.
Brad yawned helplessly himself and nodded, squeezing Nate's fingers in demonstration. "Fine."
"M'gonna go back to sleep," Nate said quietly. "And this time when I wake up you will still be here, and I will not have to figure out whether I dreamed you coming home."
Brad turned his head, fumbling his way into a sleepy, breathless kiss. The words weren't necessary, but he said it out loud anyway, flexing his wrists one more time in the grip of the duct tape, drawing in a breath under Nate's weight.
"I'm staying put."
celli suggested I take a crack at the 50 Smuts of Gray Challenge. Looking through the selection of grays, I immediately caught on #21, Duct, and remembered that I owed frostfire a scene of Nate topping the hell out of Brad. So then this happened.Many thanks to Celli and Frost for inciting this,
iulia for cheering it on, and missmollyetc and petra for beta.Nate/Brad. Explicit. Duct tape bondage. 2400 words.
"I distinctly remember informing you that if you left my bed before I was finished with you, I would duct tape you to it."
If He Moves When He Shouldn't
"I distinctly remember informing you that if you left my bed before I was finished with you, I would duct tape you to it."
Brad looked up from his contemplation of the contents of Nate's fridge as Nate brushed past him with a fleeting warm contact of skin on skin that was startling in the cold air. Nate hadn't bothered to put anything on when he got out of bed, either.
Nate didn't look over at Brad, just opened a kitchen drawer and pulled out a roll of duct tape, which he set down firmly on the counter before opening a cupboard and pulling out the first aid kit.
Brad raised his eyebrows, but his dick was already stirring. After six months of deprivation, he was more than ready to go twice in a night, and they'd never have gotten to where they were if Brad minded taking orders from Nate. "My mistake, sir. From the way you passed out I figured you were done."
"I'm done when I tell you I'm done," Nate said calmly, folding his arms as he leaned against the counter. Brad looked him up and down; without any clothes in the way it was easy to see that Nate was just as much up for pushing Brad around as Brad was for being pushed.
"May I ask what the first aid kit's for, sir?" Brad shut the fridge and left his hands at his sides, not quite at attention but playing out his part.
"You, obviously." Nate tilted his head with an expression of faint concern, like it worried him that Brad had even needed to ask. He picked up the plastic box along with the duct tape. "Now move, Sergeant, or I'll move you."
Brad nodded and turned sharply on his heel, making his way back through the dark apartment to Nate's bed. His heart beat faster with every step, and with Nate behind him Brad was conscious of his own nakedness. The air felt cooler against his skin as he heated up.
"Lie on your back," Nate directed from behind him when Brad reached the bed. "Reach up and hold the headboard."
Brad obeyed. Nate's headboard was conveniently slatted, and Brad got a little bit harder thinking about Nate picking it out with something like this in mind. Nate followed him up onto the bed, dropping the tape and the first aid kit beside him and straddling Brad on all fours. There was enough light in the room for Brad to meet his eyes, and Nate looked down at him with a slight smile.
"Did I say welcome home?" Nate asked, not touching him anywhere but keeping him boxed in.
Brad nodded. Their first round of sex had made it abundantly clear, but Nate had said it in words as well.
"Welcome home," Nate repeated, lowering himself enough for a brush of lips. "I hope you got a drink of water before I came in, because I'm duct taping you to my bed now and not letting you leave."
"Understood," Brad said, flexing his wrists and smiling up at Nate.
Nate straightened up on his knees and grabbed the first aid kit, popping it open and pulling out a roll of gauze. He scooted up, his knees pressing into Brad's armpits, which put his dick directly above Brad's face while he wrapped gauze around Brad's wrists. Brad wanted to reach out and touch, but he only flexed his fingers around the slats of the headboard. He couldn't even raise his head very high with his arms in this position and with Nate over him, though if Nate were inclined to lean down a little lower they shouldn't have a problem. For now, though, Brad couldn't touch anything but the bed.
Brad squirmed. He had to move, and he couldn't do anything except rock his hips and feel his dick shifting against his thigh, getting harder from sheer frustration. Nate shifted over him, wrapping gauze around Brad's left wrist. Brad turned his head and got his lips to the inside of Nate's thigh. Nate's knees pinched in tighter on either side of him in answer, and Nate finished with the gauze and shifted the other way.
At the sound of duct tape coming off the roll, Brad shut his eyes and tightened his grip, doing his best to hold still. Nate wrapped it around his right wrist first, tight enough not to slip but not too tight. Brad kept his eyes shut while Nate let go of his wrist, leaving him still gripped tight by the tape, but without the warmth of Nate's fingers. Nate did something to secure him to the bed, making another flurry of harsh duct tape noises, and then added another wrapping of tape on Brad's wrist.
He repeated the procedure on the other side and by the time he finished Brad could feel sweat dripping down his side just from the effort of keeping still, just from being secured to Nate's bed.
"Test it." Nate sounded a little hoarse, and Brad looked up to see Nate looking down avidly at him. Nate's dick was definitely hard now.
Brad smiled a little and gave a couple of hard jerks against the tape—not his whole strength, but enough. The bed frame rattled and creaked, but everything held. The feeling of coming up short against his restraints went straight to his dick, and by the time Nate set the duct tape on the night stand Brad was hard as hell without Nate even touching him.
Nate moved off of him, kneeling beside him on the bed, and Brad felt the loss of Nate's presence above and around him. He gave a few experimental tugs at his taped wrists as Nate looked at him from a distance of two or three entirely uncalled-for inches.
"Hmmm," Nate said, running a ticklish-light touch Brad's from his throat to the top of his pubes, his hand close enough to Brad's dick that he could almost feel it through the air. "I suppose you're not going to be very useful as a pillow in this state."
"Distasteful though you will assuredly find it, sir, you may have to fuck me." Brad drew up his knees helpfully, letting them sag apart in invitation.
"You may have to shut up before I duct tape your mouth," Nate said idly, sliding his fingers across Brad's skin to the crease of his groin. Brad shuddered, hips hitching upward without his volition.
Brad licked his lips but didn't say a word.
"I am going to fuck you," Nate added, when Brad had been quiet long enough to demonstrate that he'd understood the order. "But I have plans for that; I'm going to take my time. Tomorrow. Right now I think I'd rather ride you."
Brad tried to breathe in a manner that conveyed yes please and thank you sir. Nate was still looking down thoughtfully at Brad's dick; he closed a hand casually on his own erection, jacking himself slowly while trailing his fingers too lightly over Brad's thigh. Brad's eyes closed as he shivered—wanting that hand on himself, wanting to be able to touch Nate. He was at Nate's mercy, forbidden even to ask for what he wanted.
"Yeah," Nate said softly, and Brad opened his eyes at the feeling of imminent contact, just in time to see Nate bending down over him, shifting his hand to Brad's opposite hip to brace himself. "I guess we've both had more than enough anticipation, haven't we."
Brad didn't have to find a way to express his affirmative, because Nate was kissing him. Brad strained closer, and Nate's hand slid under the back of his neck, tilting his head up into the kiss while Nate's other hand closed on Brad's cock. The sound Brad made was kiss-muffled, but he could feel Nate's mouth curve up in a smile at it. Brad was silent after that as Nate stroked him; he bit down hard on his tingling lip when Nate abruptly pulled away, mouth and hands leaving Brad all at once.
He felt more exposed than ever, given away. His fingers opened and closed on the headboard as Nate knelt up beside him, once again just looking down at him while Brad lay stretched out before him. Then Nate turned away, bending over to get at the night stand drawer. He dropped a wrapped condom onto the center of Brad's chest; the corner prickled against his skin and Brad twitched away from it, making it rustle in the silence. Nate rested a soothing hand on Brad's chest and moved to straddle him before he flipped open the top on the bottle of lube.
Brad's dick jumped, his balls aching with want, and he bit down harder on his lip, watching Nate and considering just how high he could arch off the bed. He had his feet down, he could probably....
Nate dropped the lube on Brad's chest next to the condom. He leaned forward, bracing one hand on the pillow beside Brad's head and reached behind him with the other.
Brad stayed very still, transfixed. Nate's lips parted and his eyes half-closed, and lube dripped cold onto Brad's belly. There was a small, wet, thoroughly obscene sound and Nate's whole body shivered as his breath caught. Brad couldn't hold back a wordless noise.
Nate opened his eyes and bared his teeth at Brad. "Do you know how many times I did this while you were gone? Wishing it was you—your fingers, your ass, anything as long as it was you—"
Nate's arm was moving, his whole body rocking on an awkward diagonal, and more lube spattered down onto Brad.
"And now you're right—fucking—here—and because you can't follow one simple instruction, it's still my ass and my fingers."
Brad thought, vaguely, that he should attempt to look apologetic, but that kind of effort was beyond him. He was gripping the headboard so hard he could feel every joint of his fingers straining, and he could hear Nate working himself open with his own fingers, and all the blood in his body was pounding in his dick. Brad turned his head, keeping his eyes on Nate's face, and managed to press his mouth to the side of Nate's wrist. It was all he could reach, and he kissed it as sloppily as he knew how, scraping his teeth over the soft skin, tonguing the hardness of bone.
"There is that," Nate said breathlessly, and then lifted his hand, knocking Brad's face away as he did.
Brad might have objected, but Nate grabbed the condom off of Brad's chest, tearing it open with his teeth. His other hand was still behind him, still moving, and Brad's toes curled with the effort of keeping still, not breaking the bed or burning his wrists raw to get free and touch. Nate made a face then, and his other hand came around before he scooted further back, down Brad's body. Brad shook as Nate got the condom on him, as Nate jacked him a few times—like he wasn't hard enough?—and then grabbed the lube and slicked him up.
"Nate," he gasped, and then winced, choking back any other sound, as Nate looked up sharply.
Nate's startled look broke toward a smile. "You're right. I'm not going to stop to gag you now. Especially not for saying that."
"Nate," Brad repeated, the word whooshing out of him irresistibly as Nate came forward again, keeping one hand on Brad's dick as he lined himself up. "Nate," as he lowered himself, biting his lip, "Nate," as Nate's ass pressed against the head of his dick. Brad held himself absolutely still, panting silently, eyes fixed on the intent look on Nate's face for that suspended moment.
Nate closed his eyes and pressed down onto him, and his dick was clutched in tight, tight heat, Nate. Nate's groan nearly covered Brad's.
Brad couldn't help rocking up into him, and Nate leaned forward, dropping his hands onto Brad's shoulders. "Yes."
Pain shot through Brad's wrists before he realized he needed to reach for Nate; Brad had no way to translate the motion but into a thrust up and then another. Nate moved with him, against him, amplifying his force, holding him down harder and freeing him to move. Brad couldn't get enough traction to really push up, but Nate gave him more than enough movement, working his dick hard and fast as Brad arched up into him, his head tilting back on the pillow.
He gasped out, "Nate, Nate, fuck," and shoved up hard as he came in Nate' ass, his whole body racked with it as Nate ground down onto him.
Nate sat up a little when Brad was finished, lying under him and gasping. Nate closed his hand on his own dick, and Brad couldn't help grinding up into Nate's ass, even feeling so oversensitive that the clutch of Nate's body around him was almost pain. Nate jerked himself off fast and hard, rocking down onto Brad's dick. He came all over Brad's chest, his ass tightening rhythmically on Brad's cock as he did. Brad made a last broken sound, watching Nate's dick and Nate's hand and the way Nate's eyes were fixed fiercely on him the whole time.
Brad met his gaze and held it for a few seconds after, both of them breathing hard. Brad cracked and grinned first, and then Nate folded forward, pulling off Brad's dick as he collapsed onto Brad's chest.
Brad twitched against the tape again, but Nate nestled into Brad without Brad needing to pull him closer. One of Nate's hands slid stickily up Brad's arm to his wrist, and Nate's fingers insinuated themselves into Brad's grip on the headboard.
"Hands okay?" Nate asked, half yawning.
Brad yawned helplessly himself and nodded, squeezing Nate's fingers in demonstration. "Fine."
"M'gonna go back to sleep," Nate said quietly. "And this time when I wake up you will still be here, and I will not have to figure out whether I dreamed you coming home."
Brad turned his head, fumbling his way into a sleepy, breathless kiss. The words weren't necessary, but he said it out loud anyway, flexing his wrists one more time in the grip of the duct tape, drawing in a breath under Nate's weight.
"I'm staying put."