Episode 6 #4
“Reevesworth Industries?” Sevastyan raised an eyebrow. “Is this too . . .”
Ellisandre smirked and switched to French. “Government contract, and not the only application of the technology. My design. Tonight’s the first field test.”
Ellisandre went ahead.
Sevastyan waited with Kramer. Moments later, Ellisandre opened the door and motioned Sevastyan inside.
He picked Kramer up and slung him over his shoulder, following his deux into the office hallway.
Ellisandre walked straight ahead and turned into an open office space that was almost certainly used by a few detectives.
Other parts of the building had soft buzzing noises of people moving around.
They had somewhere between the rest of the night and no time at all.
Ellisandre pointed to one of the L-shaped desks.
Sevastyan lowered his burden silently, arranging Kramer in a sitting position on the floor with his back against a stack of drawers.
He wouldn’t be easily seen by someone coming in from the doors or the via the cameras.
Ellisandre secured Kramer in place. Not that he could really move with how he was already taped up.
Sevastyan stepped back, checking their work. Kramer looked like a proper package, taped up to the point he couldn’t move, gagged into silence, and his genitals exposed and stapled to the laminated arrest warrant. His ID was still attached to his ear.
Ellisandre and Sevastyan’s eyes met. They nodded to each other. Sevastyan grinned behind his mask. This was a mission he could be proud of.
Ellisandre pointed him at the exit and they leapt up onto the ceiling.
Better Ellisandre than him. There were many things he could do, but spider crawling wasn’t something he trained for.
Sevastyan ducked back out through the hallways and up onto the roof.
A couple minutes later, Ellisandre tapped the underside of the door and Sevastyan lifted them through.
Getting off the roof without an entire human’s worth of extra weight was much easier than climbing up.
Together, they avoided the cameras and made it back to the van in only a handful of minutes.
The snow was coming down hard now. Ellisandre opened the back of the van and jumped inside. Sevastyan swung in after.
As soon as the door shut, Ellisandre pulled off their balaclava, giggling. Sevastyan tugged his own mask away and fell back on the floor, a grin breaking out over his face.
“Three minutes.” Ellisandre pulled off their black gear as they crawled to the front of the van, opened the gate between the back and the front, and flung themselves into the driver seat.
“Three minutes?” Sevastyan tipped his head back to watch them from his place on the floor.
“Three minutes to park somewhere else.” Ellisandre turned on the engine.
Sevastyan pulled open the front of his coat and the first layer of his under clothes. “Too long.”
Ellisandre chuckled. “If I hadn’t already firmly committed to the gray side of morality, tonight would have finished the deal.”
“Why?”
“You tagged his ear like a cow.”
Sevastyan’s eyes widened. “Excuse me! You stapled his dick first.”
The van swung around a corner. Sevastyan let the centrifugal force slide him across the floor. His hand went out and slapped the side of the cabin. “Can I say we’re dating now?”
“I died. I didn’t break up with you.” Ellisandre swung the van into some space Sevastyan couldn’t see from where he lay and threw the gear shift into park. “We just committed breaking and entering. I’d call that still dating.”
They swung their feet around to the area between the two front seats, staring at Sevastyan from the driver’s seat. Sevastyan arched his back to be able to see them from where he lay on the floor, his head towards the front of the van. Ellisandre dropped to all fours, slinking towards him.
He swallowed convulsively, eyes on his deux. Tingles broke out over his skin. For the first time all evening, he felt the thrill of being hunted instead of hunting. “El.”
“Vast.” Affection laced every layer of Ellisandre’s voice.
Sevastyan shivered.
Ellisandre leaned over him, hands on either side of his shoulders, strands of their white hair falling towards his face.
Their knees were almost at his shoulders.
He was belly up, exposed, supine. Exactly where he wanted to be.
Ellisandre leaned lower, hair stroking his cheeks before their lips touched his.
He whimpered, arching up into their caress. “El.”
“Vast.”
He wasn’t breathing. Cold snow surrounded the van, blanking out the windshield like his goddex was blanking out his awareness of anything but their lips, their touch, the pull they had over his entire form.
Their hand gripped his left pectoral, strong fingers digging into his muscles with greed.
He arched into the pain, their appreciation communicated in every tendril of pressure.
“My strong, strong boy,” Ellisandre whispered against his face, kissing across his cheekbones. “You carried him up that wall like you were Thor.”
Sevastyan laughed, raising his hands, asking, not taking. They took one of his hands in theirs and brought it to their shoulder, giving permission for him to clutch and hold.
He groaned. “You told me to.”
Ellisandre smiled down at him and bit his lip, licking the sting away and kissing him again. They spun around on their hands so that their body aligned with his, their thighs pressing against the sides of his hips, their eyes locked together.
Sevastyan stroked his hands up and down their arms, hesitant, full of wonder. They waited, letting him approach, until he dared touch the tips of his fingers to the planes of their face. “I always think of you as cold and white, but your skin is gold like summer.”
Ellisandre lowered their body, rolling themselves against Sevastyan’s full length.
“My mother told me my visage was the map of the Mediterranean, north and south, east and west, the mark of the wind against the face above blue water.” They brushed their lips against Sevastyan’s.
“And then there is you, northern bred, east and west.”
“More west than east.”
“And yet the son of both.” They feasted on his lips and down his arched throat. “So violent, my Vast. So beautiful.”
He had nothing to say to that. He touched Ellisandre’s face and pressed kisses against their shoulder.
They were as intoxicating as absinthe and as deadly as a viper.
Sevastyan arched up into Ellisandre, pressing his hips against theirs.
Danger. Sharp, sweet pain. Straight speech.
A firm grip on his throat. His deux. Ellisandre pulled back the collar of his shirt and bit his neck.
He moaned, eyes fluttering shut and rolling back.
Gods. They could have him. They could take him.
He wanted them to lay claim. Irrevocable claim.
Ellisandre sucked blood to the surface of his skin and sat up, pinning his hips to the plastic floor of the van with their weight, fingers pressed against his wet skin they had just abused. “Mine.”
He reached for them, touching whatever he could. Ellisandre lay against him, turning him on his side, kissing and pressing both of them together. The floor of the van became their playground. Coats and jackets came off.
Sevastyan’s head hit the wheel well. He sucked in air, bracing against the wash of sudden undesired pulsation in his skull.
Ellisandre’s fingers went to his scalp, checking for damage.
“Cake. Champagne. The Bolthole,” they said, when they were sure the hurt wasn’t serious.
Sevastyan laughed through the throbbing. “Couches, pillows, rugs.”
Ellisandre gripped him by the front of his shirt, dragging him up into one more fierce press of their lips. “Get into your seat.”
Inside the warmth of the Bolthole, Ellisandre slammed Sevastyan up against the wall before their boots were even off.
The coat stand fell, clattering to the floor.
Their mouth was against his, taking what they wanted.
He pulled at their outer layers, dragging them off their shoulders.
Coats, jackets, hats, and gloves hit the ground.
They mutually pulled and kicked off their boots and stumbled towards the couch.
Sevastyan pushed the coffee table out of the way on its wheels.
Ellisandre gripped him and swept his feet out from under him.
He tumbled down onto his back, his fists in their sweater, dragging them down with him.
They landed on their knees, straddling him, one hand gripping the back of his neck, the other on the hem of his shirt.
They pulled up on the hem. Sevastyan arched his back and raised his arms, helping to get the fabric swept from his torso and over his head.
He pushed up hard, sliding his own palms beneath his goddex’s layers.
The floor was a mess. But finally—gloriously—they were both bare above the waist. Ellisandre shoved him back down and lifted his hips by his belt. “Mine.”
“Yours.” Sevastyan pushed up on his heels, arching his back, and holding Ellisandre’s weight on his thighs.
Ellisandre laughed, riding Sevastyan’s legs.
They jerked his belt open and pulled off his pants, under-layers.
The fabric scrunched up against Ellisandre’s own thighs where they rested on Sevastyan’s.
They pushed up, their own feet on the floor, shoving Sevastyan’s clothes down his legs.
Sevastyan reached for Ellisandre’s belt.
They leaned forward letting him pull it loose.
And then, finally, they were both naked. Pants tossed. Socks discarded. Nothing but soft rugs, throw pillows, and old, well-washed quilts against bare skin.
“Gods,” Sevastyan gasped against Ellisandre’s chest, mouth open and tongue against their skin. “Gods.”
Ellisandre gripped his cock and shoved a condom down over his length. He groaned, writhing.