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by Lara Bee
Author's Voice of Warning (aka Author's Note): English is not my first language; it's German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize. The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are.....
Background: Chris and Ezra are shape shifters, and a bond forms between them. Ezra becomes the last member of Chris' team in law enforcement.
Link to the official Boarderlines site: http://home.arcor.de/larabee/mag7/m7slfic.html
Agent Ezra Standish entered his quarters and stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening. He had the brief, insane wish to check whether this was really his place. It was not because something was actually missing, on the contrary. He only had the odd feeling he had just entered another century. The medieval age, to be precise. The whole room was only lit by candles, which Ezra had no problems appreciating, but somehow the rest of the decoration was rather archaic. The logical part of him wondered how his partner had handled setting all of this up in such a short time, since he had no doubt that Chris was behind this, but the instinctive part was simply dumbstruck.
"Chris?" he asked both curious and careful.
<Here. Don't turn around> Chris answered over the Bond.
It wasn't a request, it was an order. His lover made his presence known with physical touch as well. Ezra swallowed as someone touched him from behind, a hand lying on his neck and tenderly massaging the skin with one thumb, making him shiver, another hand sneaking around his waist, deftly and expertly unbuttoning the uniform jacket and tossing it carelessly aside. Ezra shuddered at the light kiss and the careful teething on his neck, and another unfamiliar sensation as well. Chris had not shaved. The scratch of stubble over his skin made goosebumps rise on his skin.
<Chris, what ...> he tried.
Ezra felt himself pulled closer to the hard body of his lover. Chris's hands were roaming over his chest and stomach, and he placed another light kiss on his neck, the stubble eliciting another shiver of goosebumps.
<Come. I'm hungry> Chris murmured.
<No doubt about that ... >
<Food, Ezra> came the light, amused reply.
When Ezra turned around he realized two things. First, an interesting smell in the air indicating that someone had prepared a meal, making his mouth water involuntarily. Chris? Well, he had promised him a home made dinner once before, but somehow Ezra had slightly doubted his lover's ability to cook. Second, Chris's appearance, which made Ezra's eyes widen and his mouth water again.
His lover was dressed in black pants. Not too uncommon with Chris Larabee, but this time they were tight. VERY tight. They hugged the slender legs and narrow hips, leaving nothing to fantasy. Ezra wondered for a brief second how Chris had been able to get into them, and honestly, how he would be able to get out again. Then there were the high black leather boots, the black, wide linen shirt, and a black leather vest. Ezra's eyes were drawn to the very small golden earring. Ever since his change back from a Kiowata into a human, Chris had retained a small hole in the formerly tagged ear. Added to this was a one day beard growth and the mussed hair. It gave him a dangerous, roguish and decidedly erotic appearance that had Ezra tremble in anticipation. Now, if Chris Larabee wasn't up to something today!
"Has the hunting season been declared open, or have I missed something?" Ezra managed.
"Don't like it?" Chris teased as he walked over to the table, Ezra following him.
"I didn't say that. It's just .... well ... wow." The thief searched for words, but there was nothing to describe what he felt when looking at his lover.
"I think I take that as a compliment. Here, first course." Chris handed Ezra a strange looking cup.
Standish gazed at the cup, intrigued and bewildered in one. "What's that?"
"It's called Met, a wine made of honey."
"I meant the ... thingamajig it's served in."
"Oh, that. A medieval drinking vessel made of a bull's horn. Take some stone bread." Chris held out something that had a look of bread to it. Ezra gingerly took a piece.
"Met, stone bread ... where did you get that from, Chris?"
Ezra blinked, nearly dropping his bread. "You made it," he echoed, disbelief in his tone of voice.
Chris had baked bread? Made some kind of alcoholic drink? He couldn't believe it!
Chris gave him a grin. "Yep. The Met could have used a bit more time, but it's quite enjoyable. Like it?"
"Ahm ... yes, it's a little strange, but... " Ezra shrugged, still slightly overrun by the whole event.
"Let me guess. You could get used to it?"
"You might say that."
Chris's grin widened. "Wait for the next course."
Next course? Ezra thought, confusion spreading. "What ....?"
"I said wait, Ezra. Tonight I'm in charge here." Chris grinned, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "Think you will just have to follow orders, Agent."
"Yes sir, commander sir." He almost saluted, but with the Met in one hand and the bread in the other, it would have made a mess.
"Good boy. Let's eat."
"Yep. Still owe you a meal, Ez."
The moment Ezra saw the kitchen his jaw fell.
"In a way. Fits, don't you think?"
The kitchen looked as if Chris had cut it out of a history book, chapter medieval ages.
"Fits? To what?" he asked.
Chris chuckled. "Dinner, of course. Sit down."
Now Ezra was really curious. With Chris cooking he would have expected steak and baked potatoes, or linguini and green salad, but certainly not something like this. Whatever 'this' was.
Chris placed a large bowl and a wooden spoon in front of him. The bowl contained a soup, and it smelled well, interesting.
"What is this?"
"Second course, Ezra. River pike soup with bayleafs and white wine. "
He gazed dubiously at the liquid in the archaic bowl. "Oh." He tentatively dipped the spoon in it and tried it. "Hey, that's actually good."
Chris gave him a mild glare. "You doubt my cooking, Agent Standish?"
Ezra coughed. "Errr.... Yes?"
A smile answered him, one that didn't bode well for him. "I see."
Ezra concentrated on the soup again, but he didn't get very far. Something flickered over the Bond and he almost choked on the soup. He raised his gaze and looked into a pair of smoldering, hazel eyes. The flickers became more concrete and Ezra clenched his hand around the spoon.
All of a sudden, Chris rose, took the bowls away, leaving Ezra in a state of bewilderment and need.
"Okay, here we go," his lover announced casually, as if he was the waiter in a restaurant. "The next course, in case you would like to know, are veal pastries with baked onions, egg dough sticks, and an exquisite red wine."
Ezra fought for control. Okay, Larabee, two can play. He wouldn't let his partner get the upper hand just yet.
"Where's the cutlery?" he asked, his voice showing no inflection of his rising arousal.
"No cutlery, Ezra."
Chris smiled at him and gave him a look that held one hell of a promise. It made Ezra swallow, as did the slow and somewhat teasing way Chris took the food and started to eat, with his fingers. He had seen his lover act in a seductive way before, but this was simply overwhelming. He fought for control again, but it was gettign increasingly hard to do so.
"Try it, Ez. It's getting cold."
Oh no, it isn't, Ezra thought. On the contrary. And you know that, Larabee. Obviously his lover had planned this, in detail, again. Ezra smiled inwardly and wondered for the nth time how Chris was still able to surprise him.
"Where did you get the recipes from?" he wanted to know, trying to strike a normal conversation as he followed Chris's example and ate with his fingers.
"No. History. "
"You never told me."
"You never asked," came the simple answer.
"And you call me reserved?" Ezra exclaimed.
"Not always, Ezra. You can be quite outgoing sometimes."
The thief held the hazel eyes for a moment, then felt the heat rise to an unbearable level. He concentrated on the delicious food, desperately trying to ignore the Bond. It didn't help that every time he looked up, Chris was grinning wolfishly at him.
"Try the dessert," his lover's voice startled him out of his fight for control.
Ezra gave the new platter a curious look, wiping his hands on a napkin. "Looks interesting."
"Thanks. It's almond tarts and steamed apples in wine."
The dessert was sweet, and it held a promise, as did the looks Chris gave Ezra the whole time. Burning looks, combined with increasing desire. Ezra knew this, they had done it before, but somehow this was different. Ezra was thunderstruck by the whole scenery, awed, and unable to find out what Chris was up to. And there was definitely something yet to come. The moment his lover slid from his chair toward Ezra he knew he was about to find out.
"Let's get to the fun part."
Chris all but growled the words deep in his throat, hands wandering down his body and untying something that had been wrapped around his waist. Ezra hadn't really noticed its existence, but when Chris slowly wrapped the black silk scarf around Ezra's neck, pulling him close into a passionate, hot kiss, he understood. A blaze radiated from his lover, lighting a flame inside himself, combined with no uncertain images, need and raw lust. Ezra answered the kiss with just as much lust and need, and when Chris pulled him toward the bedroom, he didn't protest.
The bedroom held a scenery similar to the one in the kitchen: lit by what appeared to be a hundred candles, giving the whole room a somehow archaic touch. Ezra noticed something unusual lying on his bed, and as he took a closer look he felt a sudden heat shooting through his body.
<Owe you more than just a dinner, Ezra> Chris purred. <You know what this means>
<Yes... > he breathed.
The bed was covered with an animal skin, silky and soft and warm, and, tied around the bedposts were four black silk scarves.
Ezra was still willing to comply. Part of him was aroused to no end, the other was trembling with anticipation of the unknown. Chris started to kiss him slowly, nibbling at his throat, while his hands wandered under the shirt, roaming around, caressing, stroking, scratching and sensitizing the skin, playing special attention to his favorite spots. Ezra took in every sensation through every single sense, the smell of leather and something else, the hands on his skin and the touch of the rough fabric of Chris's shirt as he was undressed and finally the unusual but pleasant feeling of soft fur all over his naked body as he melted onto the bed. Chris had never stopped touching him all the time, but now he looked at him, a question in his eyes as well as over the Bond.
Ezra swallowed at the image, at the intention his lover made not secret of and he had to admit to himself he felt a little nervous about this. They had done something similar before, but not like this. He had never been completely immobilized, at all four limbs. But he trusted Chris completely, knew with his heart that his lover would never let any harm happen to him, least of all by his own hands. Chris would stop, should Ezra ask for it. He wouldn't go through with it if his lover requested it.
Ezra just nodded again. Chris leaned over him, placing some featherlike kisses on his lips as he took the scarves, wrapping them around Ezra's wrists, and Ezra's body arched involuntarily at the feeling of leather and rough linen brushing over the bare skin of his chest and the already sensitized nipples. Chris took another scarf and this time he carefully wrapped it around Ezra's head, blindfolding him. A kiss was placed on his lips, the tongue caressing his. His arousal grew, even more as he felt Chris's hands wandering over his body, chest, stomach, sides, legs, spreading them .... Ezra inhaled deeply as he Chris proceeded with securing his legs so he was lying spread-eagled and naked on the fur. Chris sent him an image of how he looked to him, combined with sheer yearning and something else.
<As I said, I owe you more than just a dinner, Ezra>
<Chris ... what are you ... >
Images touched him, giving him an idea of what this was. Revenge, for one. Revenge for the time Ezra had mercilessly teased and aroused Chris in the office over the Bond, keeping him at the edge without ever touching him, and then sending him over, still without a single direct touch. It had been a game and Chris had vowed he would get back to him for that, but Ezra had considered their later play revenge already.
He had been wrong.
He moaned when Chris retreated, leaving him alone on the bed. He could only hear him now, sitting down in the big antique chair Ezra had not consciously noticed before. Then it started, and the last coherent thought Ezra was able of was, <Where the hell did you practice?>
Ezra felt heat. The heat radiated from hands wandering half an inch over his body, and though he knew they weren't really there, his body reacted by arching against them. Ezra moaned as the images flew over his mind, the emotions dancing over the Bond clearly speaking of each and every thing Chris had in mind for him. He felt the lips of his lover touch every inch of his hot skin, while he was caressed and stroked at the same time. All he could do was shiver and shudder and moan at every single virtual but somehow still real touch of moist lips and talented hands.
Chris's lips were closing over his hardness, combined with a sparkly sensation, hot and cold at the same moment, and a harsh cry escaped Ezra's throat, his hands clenching around the restraining scarves. Ezra remembered how it had felt like when Chris had done this after chewing on an ice cube, and it had driven him almost crazy back then. This was even more intense. This time his lover had more in mind, not only the cold of the ice cube, but the sparkles of the Champagne as well. Ezra couldn't suppress the whimper that escaped his throat at the doubled sensations, the involuntary thrust of his hips against nothing, somewhere still aware of the fact that Chris was simply sitting several feet away from him, fully dressed in a chair. He was watching him, tied naked on the bed, reduced to only feeling, moaning , head thrown back against the animal skin, gasping and almost sobbing from sheer lust, hands clenched around the restraining ties.
The sensation lessened briefly, allowing him to breathe, allowing his tense body to relax, but his heart beat thundered in his chest and he was breathing hard. He knew he was covered in a fine layer of sweat, that Chris was watching him, his every move, monitoring every twitch over the Bond and by just gazing at the helpless figure on the bed.
Ezra couldn't help it, he felt embarrassed all of a sudden. It wasn't that he didn't trust Chris, with his heart and soul, but this - was, well... the most unusual thing they had ever tried. He was truly helpless, he knew. Chris was in complete control and despite his trust, despite the knowledge that his lover would stop if he wanted it, the embarrassment rose.
He felt a soft touch, a reassuring caress at his temple as Chris cupped his face with both hands and kissed him softly.
<Want me to stop?> he asked.
<Not really ... I can ... do this> Ezra panted, feeling the truth in his words. He wanted this. Badly. He had never experienced anything like this before and it was a heady sensation; completely at Chris's mercy....
<Not just for me, Ez. Want this to be good for you, too> Chris murmured, still caressing him, calming him.
Ezra yearned to see the familiar features, the warm hazel eyes, touch his lover, hold him. He wanted him.
<But it is... GOD ... >
Ezra involuntarily cried out at the feeling of both Chris's hands and tongue, real and virtual. His thoughts about discomfort were washed away by the love Chris sent, the pleasure he transferred over the Bond, and he gave in to it immediately.
Only to feel Chris backing off again.
Frustration mounted, replacing the former helplessness and fear. <This is ... not fair ...>
<Has nothing to do with fairness. I'm your boss. You do what I tell you> came the rough reply, heavy with lust again.
The commander was back in charge and Ezra felt himself react. He fought to control his repsonses, but Chris didn't give him a chance, teasing him back out of his retreat. He whimpered in need. The image of Chris in his black outfit, the tight tight pants, came back into his mind and he gasped. God, he wanted this man to take him. Now!
That was when Chris started to undress. At least Ezra thought so, because Chris suddenly sent something else over the Bond: the feeling of rough clothes and smooth leather gliding over too sensitive skin. Ezra writhed under the virtual sensation, panting heavily and feeling his heartbeat drum in his ears. Leather pants glided down his legs, peeling away from warm skin, air touching the sun-tanned thighs and calves. Rough linen rubbed over his nipples and he cried out as the hard nubs were painfully aroused by the simple piece of clothing.
Chris sat down at his side and continued with his sensual torture. Ezra had no idea how he managed to do it, but it felt as if Chris's hands were everywhere on his body, while his lips again closed around his hard member. Ezra almost sobbed with the effort of simply breathing.
<Chrisss... whatever you had... in mind... I can't ...>
<You can .... and you will> was the curt reply. <Understand?>
<...yes...> he whimpered.
The sensation of being entered was almost too much and Ezra all but screamed in need, trying to spread his legs even further, almost forgetting about the restraining scarves. His hips arched toward the hardness, wanting more, deeper, but he wasn't able to move very much. Chris must have sensed it and withdrew a little from the Bond, but not completely. Ezra breathed harshly, willing his muscles to comply, but he couldn't relax. He was tense to the breaking point, unable to achieve a climax because Chris was holding him back each and every time. His lover bent over to kiss him passionately. Ezra felt the soft lips claiming his mouth, and this time it was for real. He hungrily answered the kiss, sucking the questing tongue into his mouth, needing the reality of each sensation as fingers ran over sweat-slick skin. It was almost a bruising strength and he didn't care. He needed Chris; the real thing. Badly. Those very same fingers combed through his hair. They separated, both breathing hard.
Chris removed the blindfold and - , good Lord, finally - Ezra was able to look into his lover's burning eyes, reflecting both the sexual desire and the soft shine of the candles, giving the whole scenery an almost surreal aura. So he was able to see what Chris was doing now, but it didn't help too much, because Larabee didn't seem to want to end it anytime soon. The devilish, almost merciless smile was a dead giveaway, as was the expression in those well-known eyes.
This time he used both the Bond and his own hands, lips and tongue on Ezra, not doubling but almost tripling the sensations, until Ezra was reduced to a whimpering, begging, gasping for air and shivering bundle of pure craving and need. He writhed on the bed, the animal skin just another added sensation to his over-sensitized skin. Everything was pure torture. His mind was trying to make sense of the input it received, but nothing did make any sense at all. He was closing in on a total meltdown, but Chris was still not helping him reach climax.
<Chris ...> he begged.
<Shhh, love. I'll come to you soon>
<I ... god.... Please...>
Ezra mewled, unable to voice anything out loud any more. Chris had poured oil onto him, massaging, caressing, kneading and then entering him with two fingers, slowly stroking the spot deep inside him, almost sending him over the edge. Almost, because somehow he managed to hold him back over the Bond without reducing the pleasure, letting Ezra know how much he enjoyed it himself, seeing his lover like this, feeling the reactions Ezra gave him.
Chris licked his lips, the devlish look intensifying.
<Where did you ....?> Ezra started, then broke off, the effort too much as those damned fingers touched him again.
<Not ... really ... Chris, please...>
<Please what, Ezra?> came the purred reply.
Ezra tried to ignore the teasing fingers, but it was very hard to. He concentrated on his ability to communicate. <Do it ... wanna feel you... for real ... please> he begged and pleaded. <Too much> he added, voice unstable. <Please?>
With a swift move Chris turned around and loosened the scarves at Ezra's ankles. Ezra groaned as his leg muscles twitched. Chris's slick hands massaged the twitches before they could turn into painful cramps and Ezra's breathing hitched.
<Please....> the thief moaned. <Oh, please...>
Chris gave up the control over the Bond, Ezra and himself, as he crawled up Ezra's body. He entwined his hands with Ezra's still bound ones, kissing him hard as he complied with his lover's by now wordless pleas. He entered in one hard thrust and Ezra cried out, pushing back, muscles straining. His fingers dug into the hands entwined with his and Chris roughly claimed his mouth as he thrust hard, sending them both over the edge.
Ezra lay in Chris's arms, still spent from the passionate lovemaking, and silently wondering what exactly it was Chris had done to him, wondering a little about his own reactions to the, sometimes, rough play. It had excited him, despite the momentary fears, the embarrassment, the helplessness.
He felt Chris slowly stroking his back and sighed, content and one with the world again. He loved the silent moments afterwards. There was only the pleasant ache all over, his lax muscles, the sigh of a breath, and the touch of the one person closer to him than anyone else could ever be.
<What did you do?> Ezra asked, snuggling closer.
<...?> Chris sent a wordless question.
<I mean... did you practice, or something?>
<Or something> came the soft murmur.
Chris smiled over the Bond. <I didn't have the impression that you didn't like it>
<I did. It's just ... weird>
Apparently, Chris had noted his tone of voice, had felt a little something over the Bond. Ezra felt him shift a little until he was able to look into Ezra's eyes. Concern was shining in them.
<What's wrong, Ezra? I didn't hurt you none, did I?>
There was a slight fear in the well-known voice that had Ezra touch him gently, calming him.
<No, I'm fine, Chris. Really. Bit sore, but nothing that I haven't felt before> A crooked smile creased his tired face. <That's not it. It's... I can barely describe it... you watching me... not touching me... being 'in command' like that... the complete control...> Ezra's voice trailed off and his emotions underlined what he was trying to say.
<Oh> Chris murmured as he realized what his lover was trying to say.
There was an awkward silence.
<I noticed> Chris muttered slowly. <I... felt it. I...>
<Doesn't mean I don't like it, Chris> Ezra told him firmly, trying to reassure his partner. <I liked it. Truly. I trust you> he added softly. <I know I'm safe when you're in control>
Chris searched his lover's eyes. <I was a little.. rough on you, right? Got carried away somehow... > He inhaled deeply, chagrined. He hadn't wanted to do it, but something inside of him had driven him on.
<Yes.. and no>
Ezra caressed Chris's face. <No. As I said, it was a little strange... weird. But it's part of you, who you are, and you know that I love you. I like what you did. If hadn't, I would have told you. I would have let you know>
Chris relaxed slightly, smiling. Ezra returned that smile, brushing his thumb over Chris's lips.
<But there's something else. You ... ah ... were able to hold me, control me>
<We've done that before> Chris said slowly.
<No that way. You could have held me, let me hang there, for hours I assume. That was new... very weird and new. I didn't know the Bond could be manipulated like that or our bodies>
Slowly the true meaning of Ezra's words sunk in and Chris started to grin.
<Oh, no you don't! Chris ... don't even think of it ... Chris ... Geeezus....>
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