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Title: 26 - Solo
Author: Haleth
Fandom/Pairing: BHD, McKnight/Grimes
Rating: NC-17,
Warning: Oh, kinky, yes it it. Eroticization of yet another common household item. And there's pie!
Disclaimer: Has absolutely nothing to do with the real life men the book and movie were based. It's only inspired by the movie and I make no profit. And I do not set forth this type of relationship as ideal or healthy for anyone. Although it works for these two.
Solo
Grimes stretched his arms and legs across crisp, clean sheets. He could almost feel McKnight’s hands on his chest, his belly, soothing and caressing him.
McKnight loved to touch Grimes.
McKnight loved Grimes.
That was a thought Grimes planned to return to often during the ten days McKnight was to be away from home.
Grimes didn’t know why, he didn’t know how, he didn’t know what he’d ever done to deserve it, but McKnight loved him, and he was going to do everything in his power to maintain that particular status quo.
That included obeying orders. McKnight had left strict instructions pertaining to Grimes’ sexual activity during their separation, and Grimes was determined to follow them precisely.
He’d already done the first part. He was to remove all clothing and lie flat on their bed, – our bed, McKnight had stressed – close his eyes and imagine McKnight's hands on his body while he concentrated on how much McKnight loved him.
Easy.
Grimes remembered the instructions clearly. He could also remember the wash of warm air over his skin as McKnight spoke them. McKnight’s fingers pressing his flesh, stroking his hair. The gentle rays of the rising sun. McKnight had only minutes before he had to leave. His words were rushed, a bit hoarse, emphatic. But he said them all.
“When you’re sure you remember how much I love you, I want you to slide your hands down to your belly.”
Grimes shivered, fingertips prickling with some new, unexplainable energy.
“Flat and soft, smooth skin, silky hair,” McKnight whispered as his fingers played over Grimes’ stomach and made the muscles jump. “Mm, hard.” McKnight’s fingers strayed. “Spread your legs. I like it when your legs are wide open.”
Grimes spread his legs and sighed.
“The skin here is so soft.”
Grimes scratched the very top of his inner thigh.
“I like the way your balls hang down.”
He’d then said some stuff about Grimes’ balls that was sort of embarrassing to even remember. Not a body part Grimes was used to having praised. But he forced himself to repeat every word in his head diligently.
“They’re so big. Mmm, the hair looks coarse but it’s soft, and the way the skin is wrinkled makes it feel even softer. All warm and heavy. So pretty.”
Grimes came close to grimacing as he remembered McKnight’s hot tongue on his balls, lips plucking at the loose skin, voice rumbling against them.
“And when they draw up…”
They did.
“So tense, so full of come, waiting to burst. I want you to come so hard your balls ache.”
They did. They ached. Grimes wanted to them to burst. McKnight had nuzzled them and rubbed his nose against them. Fuck.
The wrinkled skin was soft. And warm. And his balls were heavy. Full. Warm and heavy. He wasn’t so sure about pretty. Grimes tugged at the skin, a little too sharply, felt his testicles complain. He pulled a couple of hairs for a brusque few seconds. It did nothing to stop his cock from filling.
“Nice, fat balls go so well with your cock.”
Grimes cupped his balls. They were huge, it seemed. He’d read in a book that large testicles were a sign of virility. That men with big balls would want more sex, and would cheat to get it.
He couldn’t imagine such a thing. He had never cheated on anyone in his life. That would be absurd. Especially now that he had McKnight. He couldn’t have sex with anyone else, even if he wanted to. It wouldn’t feel good. It would serve no purpose.
McKnight’s balls were probably normal, but they looked smaller because his cock was so fucking huge. Grimes wondered if his fat balls and McKnight’s fat cock were somehow meant to be together. His fingers skittered over his sac and he spread his legs a bit more.
“Touch yourself. Touch your pretty cock and pretend it’s my mouth on you. Every night, before you go to sleep. Touch yourself and say my name when you come.”
Grimes let out a moan. He had the fingers of one hand curled around his shaft. He ran his thumb over the head and pretended it was McKnight’s tongue. The bit of wetness at the tip spread, so he imagined that was saliva, from McKnight’s tongue, from McKnight’s tongue on his cock.
He had more than enough source material to get him through the ten days. McKnight had sucked his cock and made him come from it three times. Three times in one night.
The mind boggled.
And Grimes had liked it, every single time, and wanted more.
He’d always assumed that at least part of the pleasure McKnight felt when Grimes sucked his cock was from being served. After all, as good as McKnight’s cock felt and tasted in his mouth, it was the fact that he was serving that drove Grimes to distraction.
So, he’d thought having his cock sucked would seem wrong. Grimes was supposed to do the sucking. Grimes was the one who did the serving. Sucking. Licking.
And, oh, could McKnight lick. Grimes had already known that, but knowing and knowing are two different things.
It felt good. It felt so good Grimes couldn’t think about it without wanting it again. He was appalled by his own selfishness. And delighted that McKnight considered sucking Grimes to be a selfish act on his part.
“Fuck, I can’t get enough,” McKnight had groaned against Grimes’ belly after the second time. “I want to devour you.”
Grimes hadn’t been able to respond. He’d just had all his energy sucked out through his dick. He was close to comatose.
McKnight climbed up him, still hard from before the first time he’d sucked Grimes, still hard from when Grimes had sucked him in the chair, downstairs, a lifetime ago. He was careful to rest his weight on his knees and his elbows but he was also careful to cover as much of Grimes’ body as possible, and Grimes melted under the heat of him.
“Oh, sir, I want you to devour me.” Grimes had wrapped his legs around McKnight’s thighs and squeezed tight. “I want you every way. I want you inside me, please. Inside, I want to feel you come in me.”
“No, this isn’t about me fucking you,” McKnight insisted, although he did grind his hard cock into Grimes’ hip. “No fucking.”
Frustrating, but oddly sweet. Grimes could see McKnight’s point, even if he didn’t agree with it. It would hurt McKnight’s feelings to fuck Grimes right then. He wanted to give, wanted to control the giving, didn’t want to come while he was giving Grimes pleasure; he wanted to overwhelm Grimes.
But McKnight had to come. It was insane, to be that hard, that long, when Grimes was perfectly happy, even desperate, to give back. It was tough to budge McKnight when he decided to be stubborn, but Grimes knew he had words, and that he could use them more effectively than any other weapon. No matter how much he writhed and moaned, McKnight wouldn’t fuck him. He wouldn’t even let Grimes finish sucking him unless Grimes used the right words.
“Danny,” he whispered, throaty and close to McKnight’s ear, “I need you to come inside me.”
McKnight’s hands raked across Grimes shoulders, pawing, clutching.
“In my mouth, Danny. I’m famished. You’ve drained me, and I’m starving for you. I need your come.”
Had McKnight really thought he could suck and drink and devour and not have the same done to him all night? Was it supposed to be noble, or was it some kind of a test? That was it - McKnight was testing. Testing himself.
Grimes pushed McKnight back on the bed and slithered down his body. Kept the words going until he got the cock in his mouth. “I need your come in my mouth, sir. Please, sir, let me suck your cock; I want you to come in me.” Dirty words. Pained groans. “Put your cock in my mouth.”
So hard it shuddered in Grimes’ mouth when he closed his lips around it. It would be a fast, hard blow job, no time for finesse. Grimes sucked and took as much in as he could in that position. McKnight tossed his head back and forth, hissing. “Ah, fuck, so good. So fucking good at that.”
Grimes pursed his lips hard and wiggled his head fast. McKnight grabbed his hair and started to move Grimes’ head. Fuck, yeah. It took a lot to get McKnight that selfish, and Grimes felt his cock, flaccid and sated and sucked dry twice in a row, start to grow once again.
McKnight’s yell of release was open-mouthed and anguished. Grimes deftly gathered all the come in his mouth, not swallowing a drop. He slid his slick lips off the cock and sat up, folding his arms neatly behind his back.
“Motherfucker. Fucking hell. Goddamn, fuck.”
Grimes ignored the outburst.
“Jesus, fuck, Grimes, how am I supposed to retain any fucking control at all when you do shit like that?”
Grimes tried not to smirk. He spread his legs a bit more and adjusted the angle of his hips so his genitals were on more formal display, and his shoulders tightened. Stomach hard and still, chest heaving just a bit.
McKnight struggled a bit to upright himself. Grimes could see, at the very bottom of his vision, McKnight’s cock, still so thick and meaty, dark and wet.
“Is this supposed to prove something?” McKnight panted.
Grimes shook his head respectfully.
“Trying to show who’s in charge?” McKnight asked.
Grimes wasn’t sure what that meant. He was offering himself in the most submissive way he knew. He wanted McKnight to be in charge. He wasn’t doing anything to usurp his authority, was he?
“Play all the games you want, soldier,” McKnight said harshly. Falsely harsh. Not really harsh. More growling. “Isn’t going to change a thing. It’ll only make it more interesting.”
McKnight attacked his mouth, lips and teeth clashing, tongue forcing his lips open. Sucking. Sucking the come out of his mouth. Grimes let his mouth fall open, empty. McKnight’s lips were softer when they came back, hesitant for a second, right before McKnight’s tongue pushed the come back into Grimes’ mouth.
Aw, fuck. Grimes felt his knees slip on the bed. McKnight held him up with one hand gripping his shoulder. The other hand, oh, fuck, the other hand closed over his mouth.
“So fucking sexy,” McKnight whispered.
Grimes tugged on his cock and closed his mouth. He even put his own hand over it, trying to simulate the feel of McKnight’s hand on his mouth. He swallowed his saliva, pretending it was his McKnight’s come, McKnight’s come that had tasted like McKnight’s mouth.
His hands both had let go at the same time, burst free of their self-imposed restraint, grabbed McKnight’s biceps as Grimes swallowed.
McKnight was swearing, calling Grimes a good boy, licking Grimes face around the hand that still covered his mouth. There was a blur and the world tilted and they were lying on the bed the wrong way around with their limbs intertwined and McKnight’s mouth on his and McKnight’s chest, broad and hot, against his, and one thickly muscled thigh between his legs and hands in his hair and their semi-soft cocks enjoying their own embrace.
“You okay?”
It was Grimes asking, for once.
McKnight nodded and answered, but his voice was tight. “Wanted…”
“You wanted to put your hand on my mouth?” Grimes said plainly. Best to be very clear about these things, he’d found.
McKnight nodded. “God, yeah.”
Grimes squeezed his fingers on McKnight’s shoulders. “I’m glad you finally got around to it, sir. I’ve been kind of hoping for it for a while.”
McKnight pulled Grimes’ head down, tucked it between his shoulder and chin. “Aw, fuck, you’re fucking perfect.”
Grimes blushed, alone on the bed, at the memory of the words and the feel of McKnight’s fingers on his scalp, scratching like they wanted to get inside his head.
It would have been a good time to say he loved McKnight, but McKnight’s hand snuck back to his mouth and Grimes was sucking fingers and moaning.
“There isn’t enough time,” McKnight grumbled.
The night was slipping away.
Grimes was spread out on the sheets; Grimes spread himself out on the sheets. His cock was stroked and gently encouraged; he stroked himself and gently encouraged his cock.
McKnight had settled between his legs and licked so tenderly it ached. Once Grimes’ cock was hard again, McKnight began to lick in earnest, and to slide his lips over the head and suck. His tongue seemed to have a mind of its own. It worked Grimes’ cock independent of his lips. It was what Grimes tried to do, sometimes.
Grimes could not believe this was the first time, or rather times, McKnight ever went down on a guy.
Grimes stopped stroking his cock and stared up at the crazy patterns of moonlight on the ceiling.
McKnight had been paying attention.
He’d learned at least some of the stuff he was doing to Grimes from Grimes doing it to him.
Grimes had, effectively, taught McKnight how to suck cock.
Grimes had to squeeze the base of his cock hard to keep from coming, just from that thought.
And the best part, the very best part of all, was that he didn’t have to worry, not one little bit, about McKnight going off looking for another cock to suck.
Grimes moved one hand up and pinched a nipple to calm himself.
McKnight was only gone for ten days; that wasn’t very long.
McKnight didn’t serve. He was a commanding officer. He wouldn’t suck a stranger’s cock; it would be too much like serving.
McKnight loved Grimes; he didn’t want anyone else, anyway.
Grimes’ hand shook. He wanted, so badly, to fuck himself with a couple of fingers. His asshole clenched and unclenched with desire. It wasn’t allowed. No finger fucking. No fucking with the shampoo bottle or any other inanimate object. No fucking with any animate objects either. Nothing in his ass for the whole time McKnight was gone.
That had been the final instruction.
“Nothing goes in your ass until the next time I go in your ass. Your ass is mine.”
McKnight had said that in a joking, tough-guy growl which, naturally, made Grimes desperately want McKnight’s cock in his ass. But McKnight had been dressed and ready to go out the door at the time.
“Yes, sir, I understand, sir.”
McKnight had got up, towering over Grimes who had been lying, as he was now, totally naked and uncovered on the bed with his legs spread wide.
McKnight bent down again, pulled Grimes’ hands off the headboard, where McKnight had commanded him to hold them, and placed them on Grimes’ chest. Kissed his forehead.
“You’re going to be virgin tight when I get back, and I’m going to make love with you like it’s our very first time.”
Aw, fuck! Grimes’ hips lifted right up off the mattress and his come spurted up across his stomach and chest.
“Yes, Danny,” he heard himself say. “Make love to me, Danny.”
Following his orders to the letter.
He stretched back out across the sheets and shivered. He’d thought it had been a warm day, but it still got chilly after the sun went down. He should close the window before he fell asleep.
He lazily drew his fingertip through the spatters of come on his stomach and chest. He brought the fingers to his mouth and licked.
Funny. He tasted different. Not as clean and crisp as he usually did.
And Grimes knew what his own come tasted like. He’d licked up enough of it to know. Off his hand, McKnight’s hand, McKnight’s body, the table, the floor, the smooth, cool porcelain of the bathtub. A plate…
He shook from head to toe when he remembered that time. He’d been on his knees in the living room. A baseball game was on TV. He’d brought McKnight coffee and a piece of pie. McKnight had been seized by the sudden desire to watch Grimes jerk off. Grimes had done so, with his t-shirt pushed up and his jeans at his knees, one hand on his cock, the other with two fingers up his ass from behind.
He’d just started to moan loudly when McKnight held the plate out in front of him. He must have realized Grimes didn’t want come on the freshly cleaned carpet. Grimes came in thick spurts on the flower-patterned china.
McKnight had been tentative about putting the plate on the floor. Grimes had put his hands behind, grasped his elbows firmly, and bent gracefully to lick it up. Along with the pastry crumbs and a faint hint of lemon meringue.
McKnight had groaned and petted Grimes’ hair and told him what a good boy he was and then got on the floor too, since Grimes had not been ordered to pull up his pants and McKnight could not, in his words, “resist such a fuck-worthy ass.” McKnight had come deep inside him at the same time someone hit a home run.
Grimes finished licking the come from his fingers, checked to make sure he’d cleaned all the mess from his belly and chest, pulled the quilt up over his naked body.
That had been the wrong thing to think about. He was only allowed one orgasm per day. He would have to wait until tomorrow night.
He was tired anyway. He was always tired. He coughed and wriggled to get comfortable, but he couldn’t get all that comfortable. He ached. Maybe he had done a bit too much work, trying to keep his mind off the next ten days.
He closed his eyes and remembered the last words McKnight said that morning when he was leaving.
“I love you too, sir,” Grimes murmured as he fell asleep.
Continued in 27 Empty House
Back to: Soldier Porn
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