Pairings: Chris/Ezra
Disclaimers: The characters of Mag7 do not, nor have they ever, nor will they ever (dang it!) belong to me. I am merely borrowing them to calm these dang plot bunnies in my brain. Please don't sue me. I don't even have any Mac & Cheese left to offer....
Notes: Okay, here it is. I said I was considering writing a Chris/Ezra fic. This is what I came up with. As I was finishing it up, I noticed that it bore a slight resemblance to the revenge story by Rita. I promise, Rita, I didn't mean for it to come out that way and am not trying to steal your ideas! At any rate, here it is. A relationship between the two is assumed as having been long-standing. There's a slight bondage warning, but it's all in good fun and nothing too serious. Just some tying to the bed. ;) This is pretty much just a PWP, but if you happen to spot a bit of a plot, please let me know so I can snare it. LOL Any and all comments, good or bad, are welcome & appreciated. Enjoy!
Ezra writhed on the mattress, his muscles tense against the soft leather ties that held him secured to the bed. He needed touch. Contact. He needed release. And he needed it badly. He was beginning to understand the full weight of his suggestion of this idea now. He hadn't fully expected his lover to be very keen on the idea, but then again, Chris had always been good at surprising him. After all, he had taken to Ezra's bed in the first place, something the gambler had thought only a desire that was even out of the league of wishful thinking. Ezra closed his eyes, the emerald orbs so dark with desire they were almost black. His tongue flitted out to trace the bandana in his mouth, trying to touch his dry lips, wishing for a moist mouth to kiss. His hands clenched into fists, aching for a body to caress. His hips thrust up, anxious for contact with anything other than the air around his hard flesh.And then, the softest, lightest touch. Ghostly on his chest. His eyes snapped open, looking into a pair of pale green eyes that would have held him pinned to the spot with or without the restraints. The flickering light of the lantern from the dresser across the room cast shadows over that chiseled countenance, playing over those tempting lips like a familiar friend. It made his skin seem even whiter as the black clothing he wore blended into the darkness of the room, hiding the fine musculature of the other man's lean form. Ezra saw a small smile play about the Chris' lips as a tongue reached out to lap at the corner. And then, with a shift of his arm, that ghostly touch was back on his hungry flesh. Ezra shivered as the fingertip brushed over his tingling nipples, the sensation rushing straight to his burning erection. A muffled cry came from his throat, trying desperately to escape from behind the gag.
The gunslinger just laughed, his voice caressing Ezra's skin like phantom fingers on his body.
"Looks almost good enough to eat," the man in black commented, trailing a finger from Ezra's throat down to just above that light nest of hair. The gambler strained to push his hips upward, begging with his eyes for a touch. He needed it so badly...
Ezra's head thrashed from side to side as he took his hands away from him. The touch had only been light, but it had set fire to his already blazing body, stoking the heat in his groin. He watched, wide-eyed as those taunting fingers deftly undid the row of buttons on the front of that black shirt, letting it fall open to reveal more of that smooth, pale flesh. The gambler stared hard, his groan trapped in his mouth as he devoured the body before him, tensing as the shirt was slipped from toned shoulders and fluttered to the floor. That pale skin, flushed with arousal, nipples hard with lust, making Ezra wonder what else was hardening further down, and those lips, wet with longing.
Chris in turn examined the man on the bed. Ezra strained with all that was in him as he raked that pale gaze down his body. Normally, that gaze was full of ice and hardness, but at moments like this, when it was just the two of them, Ezra saw what was behind that cold look. Warmth. Caring. Humor. Yes, those eyes held many things the good Mr. Larabee didn't let just anyone see. And that was what made this so special. Chris shifted his stare down Ezra's body, focusing on his long, hard cock, shivering with the thought of what it would feel like to have it buried deeply inside his yearning body. With lightining-like speed, the gunman wrapped his fist about his lover's length, offering one hard, squeezing stroke, watching him squirm with a pleasure so keen it was almost pain.
"Is this for me?" he asked, smiling slightly as he dipped his head, flicking his tongue out to gather the pearly drops that leaked steadily from the hard organ. It tasted so good. Ezra screamed into the gag, feeling himself so close, but he moved away again. Chris chuckled a bit as he moved onto the bed, his weight causing the bed to shift a little. Kneeling next to his hungry body, Chris looked deeply into Ezra's passion filled eyes. Running a finger around where the gag filled his mouth, the gunman smiled wickedly.
"I could take this off. But, it only comes off if your mouth goes to work. Do you want it off?" Chris paused, waiting to see what the tormented man's response would be. He really should have undone his jeans before sitting down on the bed. The tight fabric was rubbing sensually against his erection, pressing it with each breath he took. The feeling was wonderful, but Chris feared that too much of it would end this game before it had even begun. He shifted his hips to ease the strain, fighting back a groan of pleasure as his member throbbed with even greater fierceness.
Ezra shuddered for a moment, understanding the meaning behind his words. He looked straight at the gunman, nodding slowly. Chris quickly undid the gag, his mouth replacing it and silencing him just as effectively. His tongue swirled through his mouth, sucking the gambler's own velvety softness into his mouth. Chris could never get enough of Ezra's mouth. The sweet taste of fine liquor was always like a match to a flame, and, when mixed with that deadly taste that was simply labeled as "Ezra", it was like an explosion. The gambler moaned into Chris' throat, tasting every inch of his mouth that he could reach.
Chris growled, knowing what he wanted. Pulling back, despite the needy groan of his lover, Larabee completely left the bed. With a feral grin, Chris let his hands drift down his flushed chest until they rested at the top button of his pants. Ezra's tongue flicked out to wet his lips and Chris shuddered. Forgetting about the torturously slow approach he had planned, the gunman tore his pants open and pushed them down his hips. Chris stood still for a moment, enjoying the combined sensations of freedom on his hardness with the tight heat of Ezra's gaze as those emerald eyes covered his body like a second skin. The gunman climbed on the bed slowly, working his way up from the bottom. Ezra was reminded of the slow, movements of a cat lapping up a treat. Just then Chris' tongue shot out to taste his skin, as if he was reading the gambler's thoughts. The gunman kissed, licked, and nipped his way up Ezra's body, skipping over the weeping steel, pausing to pay special homage to the gambler's sensitive nipples, until he was busy sucking at Ezra's throat. Ezra groaned, thrusting up against that hard body, feeling the briefest touch of his shaft against his lover's. The gunman growled low in his throat and raised up to fix his lust-filled eyes on the mirroring gaze of his lover.
After quickly checking to make sure that what he had in mind wouldn't put any strain on Ezra's arms, Chris threw a leg over Ezra's stomach, letting him feel his arousal hard against the firm muscle of his chest. Ezra groaned out Chris' name, the last syllable ending in a hiss as Chris rocked his hips.
"Enough talk," Chris said breathlessly, moving up. "Time for you to go to work." Ezra sucked in his breath, smelling the familiar scent of his essence, making him heady with need. As soon as he was within reach, Ezra's long, southern tongue lashed out, tasting Chris' sweetness. Chris threw his head back, gripping the headboard in front of him, a strangled cry coming from his throat. Ezra sucked the swollen crown into his mouth, his lips, tongue, and teeth making the gunman pant with his impending orgasm.
Chris felt Ezra's tongue slide down his length, so fast and quick, like a flit of flame dancing about his flesh. He released the headboard with one hand to wrap it in Ezra's sweat dampened hair. Using that as a brace, Chris held him still, grinding his hips down. Ezra opened his mouth wide, eagerly accepting his lover, curling his tongue about the hard length to taste all of him that he could. The blonde gunman began to moan, Ezra's name coming off his lips like an angel's song.
Ezra sucked and lapped at every inch of the deliciously hard treat. With a growl, he bit down with just enough force to send Chris over the edge, drawing him in as far as he could. Chris' length exploded in his mouth as the orgasm tore through him. Chris gasped, screaming as the coil of warmth in his groin spiraled out.
Shakily, Chris backed away, kneeling to catch his breath. His eyes darkened as he watched Ezra lick away the creamy reminders of the feast he'd just partaken of. Chris felt his body responding to the sight and leaned down, latching his lips to a nipple. Ezra arched his back as much as he could into the hot mouth, his breath hitching as Chris bestowed a small nip to the bud in his mouth. And then, after seeing to both pebbled, hard nubs, the gunman slid his body down between Ezra's tensely muscled thighs.
Ezra gulped air into his lungs as he felt that hard, warm body just out of reach of his quivering legs. He rolled his arms so that his fingers could fasten on the leather that held him to the bed, gripping it tightly. The sheets were drenched with his sweat, and soon to be something else. Ezra felt Chris' fingers brush over his length lightly, teasing the firm flesh before leaning over to blow hot air across the tip.
"Chris..." Whatever the gambler meant to say was lost in a moan as a pair of warm, supple lips enclosed the first inch of him, a hot tongue lapping at the circumfrence of the swollen head. Slowly, ever so slowly, both feeling every inch, Chris lowered his mouth onto him, his tongue playing over the veins and pounding pulse just underneath the stretched skin.
One calloused hand wrapped around his pendulous sac, squeezing it with just the right amount of pressure to make Ezra jump, his hips thrusting up into the gunman's mouth. Chris moaned around the mouthful, his tongue teasing the gambler in long, curled strokes. Ezra thought he would go mad from the pained pleasure his lover's mouth was causing him. He longed, no needed, to thrust. To sink himself deeply into that hot, fiery mouth and just let go. He felt Chris begin to suck down his length, taking him in completely, almost as if he could read his needs.
Chris made no sound as Ezra's organ filled his mouth, concentrating instead on literally sucking every last drop of pleasure he could get from the southener below him. Still squeezing his balls in one hand, the other dipped behind, one lone finger teasing and tickling that sensitive inch of skin that lay hidden there. That was Ezra's undoing, and the gambler exploded, the fiery eruption sending out the sweetest feeling of heaven he'd ever experienced. Chris stretched his mouth and throat to accomodate the swollen flesh and the nectar the poured from it. Holding him there until he softened slightly in his mouth, Chris quietly slid off.
Ezra longed to rest a hand in that mussed blonde hair, now equally as damp as his own, as Chris rested his sweaty forehead on his drenched stomach. Chris' gaze stayed locked on the still mostly hard cock that his lips had so recently left and smiled slightly. There were definitely benefits to making his lover wait for release. He raised his head up, green eyes locking onto Ezra's recovering, but still hungry gaze.
"Round three, comin' up," he said, sliding his body back up to claim his lips for a soul searing kiss. Ezra tasted the remenants of his explosion on Chris' lips, the combined flavors in his mouth causing his flesh to stir to a firmer tone. Chris thrust his tongue into Ezra's mouth, coaxing his out to join him in a teasing tango in the limbo of where their mouths met. Ezra strained to touch him, run his hands over his skin, caress him. But still, Chris did not relent, instead stopping to lean back and watch the frustration and arousal cloud over his face.
Ever so gently, Chris brought his leg up between Ezra's spread thighs, rocking the smooth flesh against his hardness, making it into that same weeping steel once more. The gambler tried to rock against the pressure, but couldn't, his howl of need making Chris shiver with anticipation. Straining to reach the bedside table, Chris gave an involuntary jump as his stretch brought his chest within range of Ezra's mouth. When the gunman sat back, the small jar he'd been reaching for firmly in hand, he glared at his lover, reaching up a finger to rub at the red spot by his nipple where the enthusiastic southener had bit him. Ezra smiled wickedly, not even looking apologetic.
Raising an eyebrow, Chris opened the jar and scooped out a fingerful of the oily liquid that was normally used in the lantern that burned across the room. Chris, however, appreciated its usefullness in lighting a certain southern gambler's fire much more than he did the lamp. Warming the slippery substance in his hands, Chris suddenly reached down and grabbed Ezra's throbbing member, giving it seven hard strokes. Ezra grunted with the harsh pleasure, his hips rising a bit further from the bed with each stroke. Suddenly, the hand was gone,and Ezra gasped as the air surrounded his glistening erection. Opening his eyes, Ezra almost wished he hadn't, and yet, he couldn't take his eyes away.
Chris kneeled between his legs, his own knees spread wide. But what held Ezra's attention was the slow movement of Chris' fingers as they moved in and out of his own body. The gunman held his gaze as he pushed a bit further, adding a second finger to the first's work. Ezra made a sound similar to a whimper. Chris closed his eyes and thrust a third finger inside himself, moving frantically. Ezra couldn't look away, and was afraid that if he didn't, he'd die from the need pounding in his blood. A second of a look was the only warning Ezra got as Chris pulled his hand away and moved to straddle his hips. And then, he was inside him.
Ezra thought his flesh would simply explode, allowing his soul and his guts to go flying everywhere. But the tightness and heat of Chris' flesh as he slid into him grounded him, keeping him together while tearing him apart at the same time. Chris sank down in one thrust and sheathed him completely in his body, biting his lip hard to hold back a long and powerful scream. He was just as delicious as he'd looked. Just as filling as that first time. His length filled him perfectly, stretching at the skin, his hardness brushing up in all the right places.
With slow, deliberate movements, Chris began to raise and lower his hips, controling the speed of the thrusts. Ezra tried to buck against him, his cock chasing the hot, liquid silk he knew waited just beyond that opening in his flesh. Chris understood the drive behind the gambler's jerky movements and began to ride him faster, rocking forcefully as Ezra panted beneath him. His muscles were clenched, trying to fight off his release.
Chris leaned down, never stopping their momentum, his tongue making one long swipe from one side of his chest to the other, making sure to surround both nipples on the way with loving caresses. The gambler could feel Chris' renewed hardness as it was trapped between their sweat covered stomaches. Ezra began to make a soft, mewling cry deep in his throat. The gunman increased their pace, riding him faster and faster, his hips grinding down as he slid inside of him.
Ezra felt it building, and could tell Chris was close from the way he bit his lip, holding the corner in his teeth, turning the pink skin a flaming white from the pressure. Ezra gave everything he had to pleasing his lover and was rewarded when he felt the tip of his erection brush against that one sweet spot deep inside Chris' body. Chris quickly took Ezra's mouth with his, and rammed his hips down on him. He then moved his mouth to bite Ezra's shoulder, fighting back his cry. Ezra felt those long, slippery fingers dig into the flesh of his chest and shoulders. With an inarticulate cry, Ezra felt his body explode, expecting his skin to split from the power of it as he poured his white-hot liquid lust inside the gunman's body. Chris growled and a second later, their stomachs were covered with the blonde's seed. The gambler thrashed, only barely noting that his right wrist was now free. In his throes of passion, he had broken his restraints.
As the last of his release died away into the warmth of the body on top of him, he pulled Chris closer with his hands. The gunman slid, reluctantly, off of Ezra's wilting flesh and lay by his side. He smiled sleepily as his fingers found the frayed ends of the leather still wrapped around Ezra's wrists. Ezra wrapped an arm about the gunman's shoulders as the blonde tucked his head under his chin. Their breathing slowed as the soft strains of their love floated away with the Sandman. Ezra moved slightly. He was still tied by his feet to the bed, but he figured that could wait till morning. After all, then it would be his turn.
THE END
Comments to: NMGambler@aol.com
The follow-up to this story is With Age Comes Experience