An exercise in trust: Mick and Len, probably nsfw

[hottestrogue]

Mick sits on Len's bed, his head in his hands. The smell of smoke and burning books still clung to his clothes. He had been helping that woman burn the books in the library, not because he cared for the books or her in anyway but because of the call of the fire. It could have gone bad. Really bad. They were on a spaceship, but once he had seen that flame it had been too late.

This was getting out of hand, he felt like he couldn't help it. He isn't sure how to put it into words, but for once in his life, Mick is scared. The timemasters had turned that need for chaos and the desire to watch the world burn in to a weapon they could point at people. With the legends it was less a weapon and more a controlled fire. Here on the Barge he doesn't have either of those two.

He licks his lips when he hears Len's footsteps and glances up at his partner. "Len..."

Comments

[chillestrogue]

He shrugs, rolling his shoulders back, though Mick can't see it.

"Good. Remember that promise."

Len pulls the weight of the spoon back with his other hand, and lets it smack against Mick's thigh.

"One."

[hottestrogue]

Mick makes a surpised sound at the feeling of the spoon. He hadn't expected a spoon. "One." He repeats. And then he keeps the count. For the first good while his voice is steady, calm. Then slowly it starts to change, his breathing is harder and the voice sounds strained. He tenses, not pulling away but anticipating each it. Then well past the point where most people would ask for it to stop something else changes in Rory. He seems to relax into it.

[chillestrogue]

He knows pain intricately, from being on the receiving end of it one too many times. He switches it up before it can be either too much to bear, or too monotonous. Mick's other thigh gets the same treatment after twenty, and even Leonard switches hands after a while.

It's becoming a little zen for him now, easier to zone out, when he listens to Mick's voice and takes careful note of when it threatens to become too much for him.

But he knows that tone of voice; it's right after Mick's set a gigantic blaze, and is settling in to watch it all burn. Bit by bit, Len starts to understand it.

[hottestrogue]

After the final count Mick is just resting against the bed for a long moment. Breathing, floating. "Thank you master." And his voice sounds like he means it. He knows it is going to hurt tomorrow. And the day after. But he doesn't care, right now he feels like he is floating. He reaches out with one hand, holding it out to take Len's hand.

[chillestrogue]

His arm hurting from the strain of it, Cold dropped the spoon down on the ground and drops next to Mick on the bed, panting. Without a word, he takes Mick's hand and holds it, just breathing in silence.

[hottestrogue]

Mick smiles, rather goofy in fact, as he pulls Len close and burries his head against Len's neck. He strokes Len's back, trying silently to tell him how much he had needed that.

[chillestrogue]

He's pulled into Mick's arms without complaint or hesitation, giving a tired smirk back at him.

"That's going to sting tomorrow. Should put some ice on it."

[hottestrogue]

"How did I know you were going to suggest ice, Master?" He simply holds Cold. They both need to relax from this, at least that is Mick's guess.

[chillestrogue]

He snorts, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"You can stop calling me that, we're done for today. I'm me."

[hottestrogue]

Mick nods and reaches over to stroke his hand over Len's chest. "Thank you Len."

[chillestrogue]

"You're welcome. Glad it's helping." He replied, setting his hand over Mick's.

"I'm willing to entertain suggestions from the floor for the next round."

[hottestrogue]

"That was actually really good. Not too hard but hard enough to get where I wanted. You sore though?" He finally removes the blackfold and looks over at Cold. "This was a stroke of genious too."

[chillestrogue]

He rubs his wrist, shrugging.

"Not bad. Just out of practice. There's a reason I like ranged weapons."

Len looks over and smirks.

"You'd be surprised what the library carries."

[hottestrogue]

"You found the blindfold in the library?" He raises his eyebrows, but reaches out to gently massage Cold's forearm.

[chillestrogue]

"The technique was in the library. The blindfold was in Iris' room." He replies, letting Mick take his arm from him.

[hottestrogue]

"Well it damn well worked. Maybe I should go visit the library." He continues to stroke the arm. "It helped a lot. I feel better."

[chillestrogue]

"I'm glad." And he was, really. Len had feared he would either go too hard, or too soft.

"Leaving here discretely might be a problem."

[hottestrogue]

"One of us leaves first and the other one follows a bit later?"

[chillestrogue]

"Me first. You need to rest."

He reaches over to Mick's pants, hesitating.

"Want me to pull these up?

[hottestrogue]

"I got it." He reaches down and tries to hide the wince as he pulls them up. "I think I'll rest best in my cabin but I'll let you head out first."

[chillestrogue]

He frowns, catching the wince, and runs his hand over Mick's head, tenderly.

"All right. Call me if it gets bad and you need me for a food run."

[hottestrogue]

He looks up and smiles slightly. "I will do that, go relax. I got food in my cabin."

[chillestrogue]

"Of course you do." It was no surprise to Cold that Mick had food in his cabin. He got up, stretching his arms above his head.

"Next time maybe I'll throw sex in the middle of this. See where it goes."

[hottestrogue]

Mick smiles at him, not bothering to hide that he is admiring him and the way Len moves. "You know that isn't ... what I mean is, only if you want it, alright?"

[chillestrogue]

He catches Mick's eye and smirks back, lowering his arms.

"What makes you think I don't want it?"