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Title: Yoga
Author: Haleth
Fandom/Pairing: post-Black Hawk Down, Army of Two, Grimes/McKnight
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Kink. sub/Dom. Extreme self-pleasure. Do NOT try this at home.
Disclaimer: McKnight and Grimes have nothing to do with men in real life of fiction. I mostly made them up, especially the kinky parts, so any resemblance to any such men should be used only as a visual aid.
Yoga
“I could quit,” McKnight said unexpectedly, even to himself.
“Quit what?”
“Take early retirement. You know.”
Grimes stopped folding the laundry. “Why would you do that, sir?”
“Because…”
Because why? Because he was tired, that’s why. Tired of missing Grimes. Tired of hiding Grimes. Tired of lying and pretending and not being able to tell anyone that he lived with the most beautiful man in the world.
Sure, his sister knew. His sister and her girlfriend. That’s hardly the world. And it was weird, because he suspected that his sister and her girlfriend got a little too much out of his relationship with Grimes in the titillation department. Linda was always giving him these looks. Like she knew exactly what they got up to.
McKnight didn’t want anyone to know exactly what he and Grimes got up to in bed. Or in his chair. Or on the couch. Or the stairs. Garden. Weight bench.
Weight bench.
If McKnight quit, he’d be in amazing shape. All the time he would spend on the weight bench…
No, he certainly did not want anyone to know about that. But was it too much to ask to be able to treat Grimes as something more than a casual acquaintance the rare time they were in public?
Maybe it was an ego thing. McKnight wanted to prove something to everyone. He might not be the tallest, most buff, handsomest guy in the world; he wasn’t rich and he didn’t have a flashy car or clothes; he didn’t know anything about wine or the theatre; he hadn’t been good enough to go pro, or even go to college right after high school.
But, damn it, he had John Grimes in his bed every fucking night he was home, and that was more important than cheekbones and expensive suits and a fleet of BMWs.
Grimes crawled over a pile of folded towels and onto McKnight’s lap, undeniably proving McKnight’s point.
Grimes was wearing a pair of thin cotton pajama bottoms, something Linda had bought him when he’d been sick, and the bottoms were barely holding onto his hips. He wasn’t wearing anything else. His hair kept getting longer and softer and redder every time McKnight came home. His beard was grown in enough to make McKnight shiver when Grimes rubbed it across his bare shoulder. Which Grimes did. Twice.
Then Grimes made a little sound like a purr and rubbed his lips over the scar on McKnight’s neck.
“But, sir, it’s who you are, what you are. You’re a colonel in the United States Army. Rangers.” Grimes swiveled his hips, grinding over McKnight’s erection, which happened to be naked except for a single layer of bed sheet. “Elite,” Grimes whispered in McKnight’s ear. “Commanding officer.”
Aw, Jesus. McKnight couldn’t think about retirement. He couldn’t think any more at all. Not with Grimes writhing all over him like that. Motherfucker.
He put his hands on Grimes’ ribcage and lifted, so he could kick the sheet away. The folded towels fell on the floor and Grimes didn’t even flinch. He was arching his back, with his cock straining against the front of the striped pajamas, offering himself to McKnight in the most lewd manner imaginable.
McKnight hauled Grimes up roughly and pressed his face against Grimes’ belly. He licked the indentation of Grimes’ navel before grabbing the waistband of the pajamas with his teeth and yanking them down.
Grimes shrieked. Maybe that had tickled or something. McKnight was fixing to give Grimes a meticulous licking, starting at the base of Grimes’ cock and working his way out in a spiral. He was going to taste cock and balls and groin and belly and thighs and hips, and then he was going to flip Grimes over so he could feast on the other side. The little hollows above his ass, the grooves on either side of his spine, that gorgeous ass beyond perfection in shape and size and firmness and taste. Dark crease, with its hair coarse but straight, the sweat gathered there taunting him, salty and musky, the skin smooth and shining, if he were to bend Grimes right over and spread him and lean down to—
“Sir!”
McKnight’s nose twitched from the pubic hair tickling it. He eased his lips off Grimes’ left testicle and kissed the wrinkled skin of his right ball. “What?”
“I said, ‘We don’t have a lot of time for this.’”
McKnight nuzzled the hollow between the base of Grimes’ hard cock and the top of his thigh. “I don’t have to leave for another three days.”
“Yes, but my yoga class starts in less than an hour. Remember?”
Right. Yoga. It was Grimes’ turn to bring the snack. He’d been up the night before, cutting vegetables and mixing a tasty low-fat dip. McKnight hoped the last few veggies didn’t look too strange. Grimes had been in a hurry toward the end because McKnight had become impatient.
McKnight hadn’t meant to make him rush like that.
Okay. He had. He’d been resenting that Grimes was taking all that time to make food for someone else when McKnight was only home for a few days. So he’d watched for a while, and then he’d sat at the kitchen table with his legs spread wide and pulled his cock, full and feeling neglected, out of his pants and touched it.
Grimes had positively flown around the kitchen, chopping, wrapping, mixing, putting in the fridge. Some of the humus spilled and Grimes hadn’t taken the time to wash too carefully. On his knees, mouth open, tongue swirling, hands on McKnight’s forearms, so fucking good.
Grimes truly loved to suck cock. McKnight had hunched his hips and watched Grimes take all of him, astounded by his good fortune, as always, and by Grimes’ incredibly generous throat. No one else had ever, could ever, milk him like that.
McKnight had practically thrown Grimes on the table, on his back, legs over McKnight’s shoulders, first so McKnight could open him up with tongue and fingers, then with McKnight’s cock stretching his asshole wide open. The flailing had been accompanied by McKnight’s involuntary grunts.
Oh, so hard, he’d ached, he’d buried himself in Grimes and groaned, felt his cock embraced completely, and the legs tightening on either side of his neck, Grimes bent in two, going “ah ah ah” and tossing his head so his hair was a mess.
They’d both ended up smelling like garlic and red peppers and sex. Later, in the shower, Grimes bent over and McKnight used three soapy fingers to clean him out thoroughly, jerking him off with the other hand. Slipping, smelling of soap, wet hair in his eyes, Grimes had looked almost pained when he came in thick spurts against the tiles, until he opened his eyes to look at McKnight and it was clear it was not pain he felt at all.
Right. Yoga. Not a problem. They still had an easy half hour.
“Fine. I’ll do the full feast later.” McKnight pulled Grimes down into his lap.
Oops. The pants were still around his hips. That meant Grimes’ thighs were being held tight by the waist band. Tight around McKnight’s waist.
Not oops. Good. Very good. McKnight cock pushed up like it was trying to burrow through the pajamas.
“Ah, I’m gonna fuck you,” McKnight groaned.
“No, sir!”
What?
“Yoga, sir.”
“It’ll be a fast fuck. I’ll do it properly later.”
“Not a time issue, sir.”
Damn. That was right. He couldn’t fuck Grimes right before his yoga class. Might cause embarrassing leaks. Grimes had explained that the night before, about spreading his legs and twisting himself into pretzel shapes and how he couldn’t possibly fuck right before that, unless they used a condom, and even then lube might…
McKnight found himself in the awkward state of full arousal with a whimper escaping from his lips.
Grimes kissed him. “Let me handle this, sir.”
That was better; Grimes snaked his fingers around McKnight’s cock. Not ideal, but Grimes was bound to think of something to make it even better. McKnight had faith in him.
“Oh, sir,” Grimes moaned right next to his ear, flicks of his tongue and hot breath sending shivers down McKnight’s spinal cord, “I love your cock.” Grimes wiggled against him, bunching up the pajamas against McKnight’s belly. “I love to touch it, feel how big and hard I make it.” Grimes’ was fucking cooing in his ear and it was amazing. Made McKnight even bigger. And harder.
“I love your cock so much, sir.”
The dirty talk was good, but McKnight needed his hands on Grimes’ ass - easily enough achieved. He also wanted to be inside Grimes – forbidden. Tragic.
Fuck. He didn’t want any restrictions. He’d been through enough restrictions before. No kissing, no licking Grimes, no sucking Grimes off, no eating out Grimes’ asshole – they were supposed to be past all that.
He supposed this was a bit different. He would respect this restriction, just like he’d respected all the others. Sort of. He’d pushed a bit, here and there. He wouldn’t push now, though. He’d be good. Because Grimes finally managed to get his cock out of the pajamas and had it lined up with McKnight’s and it was fucking good. Really good. Good enough to make McKnight lose the ability to breathe.
He grasped Grimes’ ass tightly. Grimes was cooing something about McKnight’s fat cock and how delicious it was, and McKnight’s head was going to explode. He had to release some steam.
“Oh, fuck, I love your ass. I love playing with it and grabbing it. You’ve got a great ass. Let me… oh… yeah, your asshole is so hot and tight. Feels good on my finger. Tight little hole… when you get home, I’m gonna open it up properly.”
Grimes made a higher pitched moan and slid his other hand between them, both hands, squeezing and stroking frantically.
“I’m going to turn you upside down and you’re gonna suck my fingers into your mouth and get them wet.”
Grimes’ fingers fumbled, but he recovered.
“And I’m gonna slide one inside you. Just one. Just enough to make you need more.”
“Yes, please.”
But McKnight kept teasing the dry hole, rubbing his fingertip over the tight little folds, feeling the entire thing twitch.
“And I’m going to watch. Up close. Watch my finger slide into you. Then I’m going to lick around my finger, make sure you’re good and wet.”
“Aw, Jesus, sir, yes. Now. Do it.”
McKnight growled. “What about yoga?”
“Fuck yoga, sir!”
“But it’s your turn to bring the snack.”
“Fuck the hummus, sir!” Grimes writhed against McKnight’s stubborn finger, trying to force it inside.
Now, there was an idea. Hummus as lube. Tasty.
But was that safe? Or would the garlic be too harsh on Grimes’ delicate tissue? McKnight didn’t think any part of Grimes was seriously delicate, but inside he was so soft, so… no. No way was McKnight going to spoil the flavor of Grimes with garlic. Scratch that plan.
“Please,” Grimes whined.
McKnight pulled his finger away. Put both hands on Grimes’ hips. Enjoyed the way his palms covered them. There was a curve to Grimes’ hips, not exactly feminine but not hard and angular either, not abrupt.
He kissed Grimes on the nose. “After yoga.”
“What?” Grimes yelped, squeezing a handful of dick until McKnight winced.
“I am going to fuck you after yoga,” McKnight said clearly. He moved one hand from Grimes’ hip and folded it over Grimes’ hands. “I’m going to wait. Patiently. And you will go to your class and do yoga and meditate and socialize with the other yoga people. (McKnight didn’t want to think about them too much.)
“And when you’re finished, you’re going to come home and take off all your clothes and do an upside down yoga pose for me and I’m going to eat out your ass until you reach enlightenment.”
Grimes’ hands were only holding on because McKnight’s hand was making them. Grimes was far too far gone to have coordination.
“And then I’m going to fuck you until you scream.”
And then they both came.
* * *
There was something different about John. He was as polite and friendly as ever. He looked just as good, handsome and fit, if a bit slender, with that to-die-for long russet hair that made him look even more handsome. He hadn’t shaved, but then he never seemed to, at least not since his first class a few weeks before. He was dressed the same as always, modestly, in loose sweat pants and a neat t-shirt. But there was something about him.. an aura.
There was a tension in his body - not a bad tension. A healthy tension. It almost made him glow.
He must have got laid, Julie thought as she guided the class through the warm up stretches.
And it really, really suited him.
Julie observed the entire class. It couldn’t have been one of these ladies. She had no doubt that at least a half dozen of them would gladly leave the baby with a sitter or leave the hubby at home if John so much as hinted he’d appreciate her company. His arrival in the class had created quite a stir. But they all looked the same as they always did, and Julie was sure the lucky lady, whoever she may be, would be walking around with a blissed-out look on her face.
Julie had been watching John for a while. He was quite flexible. Quite strong. And… she shouldn’t notice such things, but he did pack a nice package.
After class, she watched John as he chatted with Marie and Josie. Such a nice man. She watched him smile and be charming. Then she watched him leave the community center, cross the street, and get into an old Crown Vic driven by someone who looked very familiar.
Then she watched John flash the smile that Marie and Josie had been angling for all morning.
Goddamn, that was Danny McKnight in that car!
And he looked blissed out.
They didn’t touch. They barely looked at each other. But they were together. Obviously together.
Julie thought about it for a long time. She had no problem with that sort of thing. But over half the women in the class were military wives. She was one herself. Some of them were bound to know Danny McKnight. She knew him socially. He’d been stationed with her husband two or three times.
Julie thought about it for a while. Wondered if she should mention it to John, that she’d seen him get into a car with another man.
And what? Oh, for goodness sake. She must have been going a little hormonal, what with Troy gone away for so long this time. There was not sign of anything untoward. No sign of anything. Nothing but that smile.
That damning smile.
She decided to pretend it had never happened. Don’t ask, don’t tell.
* * *
“Do that down dog thing again.”
“Sir, I can’t hold it for very long when you’ve got your fingers in my ass.”
“I won’t use my fingers.”
“Well… okay.”
“I’ll use my tongue.”
“Ah! Sir!”
Grimes collapsed to the bed in a fit of laughter.
Too bad. That was definitely McKnight’s favorite yoga position. He got to run his hands up the backs of Grimes’ taut thighs. He had an unparalleled view of the underside of Grimes’ balls and his asshole was so accessible. And of course, Grimes’ upturned ass, stretched to straining but still pliable, the skin going white and then a little pink as McKnight’s fingers pressed into it. The marks faded to nothing seconds after he eased up, but those ephemeral fingerprints…
Grimes rolled on his side. “Haven’t you had enough?”
McKnight flopped down on the bed next to Grimes. Enough? Enough of licking and sucking and tasting and teasing and nibbling Grimes? Never. “Nope. I’ll never get enough.” He slid down and nipped at the inside of Grimes’ elbow. “I want to devour you all day and all night.”
“But your cock, sir.”
Yeah, his cock. It was hard. It was aching a bit. His balls were aching more. It was impossible not to be erect when Grimes was naked in front of him, skin flushed and sporting the odd pink-purple mark where McKnight had sucked a little too enthusiastically.
No, just enthusiastically enough.
“Ignore my cock. My cock is fine. I have to cram three months of tasting you into three days!”
Grimes squirmed. “What about me?”
McKnight stopped sucking the curve of Grimes’ waist. What about Grimes?
“I won’t get to suck your cock for three whole months.”
Good point. McKnight lay back and let Grimes go at it for a while. Soft lips and firm tongue and gentle teeth and hot throat. Motherfucker, he was going to miss this so much. But even more than this, he was going to miss waking up in the middle of the night with John curled against him, fists clenched, sometimes muttering against McKnight’s skin.
And he was going to miss waking up in the morning to the feel of smooth skin against his thigh, and a warm mouth on his belly, and hot breath on his cock, and that tongue. Anywhere. That tongue on his cock or balls or thigh, on his neck, especially on his neck, teasing the scar, tracing his past, curling up under McKnight’s ear. In his mouth, tasting him inside, following the lines of his lips, twining with his own tongue.
And now that tongue was pressed flat against his shaft as lips worked up and down.
Oh, how he was going to miss coming inside that mouth.
He tightened his fingers in Grimes’ hair and groaned. Coming in that mouth.
Grimes swallowed eagerly and lapped at his cock in a soothing way. “Thank you, sir,” Grimes whispered.
McKnight felt like that should bother him. He should feel revulsion at being thanked for coming in someone’s mouth. In Grimes’ mouth. His lover’s mouth. But he didn’t. It felt perfect. Fucking kinky, but perfect. Was there no end to how kinky they could be?
“John, come here.”
Grimes scooted up the bed and plastered himself against McKnight’s side. “Mmm,” he murmured.
They lay like that for quite a while, Grimes’ head on McKnight’s chest, hand on his belly, McKnight’s hand stroking Grimes’ shoulder.
* * *
Grimes came back upstairs with two glasses of orange juice and a plate of toast. Midnight snack. They’d been at it ever since they’d got home from yoga class the afternoon before. They’d started by doing exactly what McKnight had said he was going to do, with Grimes half upside down and McKnight’s fingers and tongue in him, then his cock. And then they’d showered and done it all over again. Not exactly the same. Variations on a theme.
Insane, to spend that much time in bed. But it was their only chance for a long time. Grimes’ job, the housework, everything had been put off until tomorrow, their last day. Grimes would do the laundry and pack for McKnight. McKnight would take care of whatever needed taking care of before he left.
Grimes dropped McKnight’s bathrobe to the floor, revealing nothing but skin.
McKnight pulled Grimes down onto the bed. “I love you,” McKnight said.
Grimes smiled. “I know that, sir.”
“And I really love that we can keep… that it never gets…”
Grimes beamed. “Me too, sir. We can keep being as kinky as you want.”
Yeah. They could.
“As kinky as I want.”
And that was pretty fucking kinky.
“You want me to prove it to you?”
McKnight stared at Grimes, who was now kneeling on the bed, naked and half-hard.
Grimes was going to prove he was kinky? That was hardly necessary.
“You don’t have to prove anything. I don’t want proof; I want to fuck you. Again.” How many times had he fucked Grimes in the last few days? Many. Too many. No, it was impossible to fuck him too many times.
Grimes pouted. “But, sir. I’ve been saving this for a surprise.”
Oh. Well. Surprises were good.
“Okay. What do I do?”
There was the smile McKnight wanted. Full, almost sunny. Very naughty. “Just sit back, sir. I have to get warmed up. It’s been a long time since yoga class.
Warmed up. McKnight could handle that. Watching Grimes stretch his arms and legs, bend to grab his ankles, touch his toes. Twist to one side, then the other.
“And I’ve only ever done this once before.”
Oh, so he’d just learned it in yoga class. Cool.
“This is called ‘the plow’,” Grimes said. “I hope the bed is firm enough.”
So did McKnight. It sounded like fun.
Grimes turned his back to McKnight and lay down. He looked up. “Try not to touch me until I say I’m ready,” he said, his face upside down to McKnight.
McKnight nodded. He wasn’t sure he could comply. It was hard not to touch Grimes sometimes. But he’d try.
Grimes lifted his hips off the bed and rested them on his hands. Legs up, toes pointing at the ceiling. Very nice. And then he started to bend at the hips, lowering his legs over his torso.
Motherfucker. He wasn’t… he couldn’t… could he?
[Intrusive Author’s Note: I thought about ending it here and doing a TBC, and calling the next part “The Plow”, but that would hardly be fair, would it? Besides, it’s still McKnight’s POV, so I’ll just finish this scene right away, as it should be finished… with the plow.]
McKnight closed his fists, bunching the sheets in his hands. He couldn’t possibly survive watching this. Not if what he thought was going to happen happened.
Grimes’ feet rested against the headboard. Over his head. He spread them a little more, and his cock dangled down, only partially hard at first, but it would get harder. McKnight would make sure of that.
McKnight moved behind Grimes so he could take in the spectacular view of his upside down ass. Even better than that down dog thing. And then Grimes bent his knees and McKnight had to move back to the side so he could get a better look at Grimes’ cock, now half hard and still getting harder, hanging above his mouth.
“Can you do it?”
“I don’t know, sir. I wasn’t naked and hard in class yesterday.”
Oh, please please please, McKnight thought. He remembered a drunken night with a bunch of guys. Someone had claimed that one percent of men could do it – autofellatio – and that he, the guy making the claim, was big enough to do it.
McKnight had thought the guy was full of shit. No one was that big and most soldiers weren’t flexible enough with all that muscle on them. Back then, McKnight had never sucked a cock before, and he certainly had no interest in trying it on himself. If he really wanted his dick sucked he could always find someone else to do it for him.
But this…
“Oh, god, John. Please, do it.”
“Shh, sir. I’m concentrating!”
“Please. I want to see you do it.”
“Ah, sir, it’s not that easy.”
“Can I touch you? Please. I’ll be careful.”
“Okay.”
McKnight ran his hand over Grimes’ upturned ass. And pressed ever so slightly.
Grimes was hard. Really hard. So close. He opened his mouth and flicked his tongue out. He didn’t have to reach far. McKnight could see his cock move when his tongue touched it.
Motherfucking goddamn. “A little more, John. I want to see your lips touch it. Come on, kiss your cock for me.” McKnight slid his fingers under Grimes’ thigh, around the base of his cock. He tugged gently, stretched Grimes’ cock a little.
Grimes moaned and opened his mouth wider. And touched the head of his cock with them. McKnight could see tongue snaking out around Grimes’ lips. What the hell did that feel like?
“Are you okay?”
Grimes blinked and slid his lips so they covered the whole head.
“Oh, fuck, John, that’s so…” McKnight didn’t think he could bear much more of this. It was too much.
Grimes made a low moan and McKnight could see his lips working. Fuck fuck fuck.
Grimes’ thigh pushed against McKnight’s hand and Grimes unbent his legs. McKnight kept his hand on Grimes’ hip and helped him lower back to the bed slowly.
“Sorry, sir. Bit too much of a strain.”
McKnight lunged at Grimes and shoved his tongue in his mouth. Faint, but yes, he could taste Grimes’ cock there. Just a hint. Enough to make McKnight’s cock bounce all on its own.
“Fuck, that was amazing, John. Can we do that when I get back?”
Grimes half sat up. “What, sir?”
“I want to fuck you like that. Not now, though. Too risky - you have to work on your flexibility. Promise you’ll practice while I’m gone. Everyday, do it for a little while. First you’ll be able to lick yourself easily. Then, after a while, you’ll be able to suck the head without any strain. Maybe work your lips up the shaft a bit. And then…” McKnight sucked in a deep breath. “Then you can come in your own mouth.”
Grimes, already flushed from being upside down, turned beet red.
“You don’t want to?”
“I never really thought about… not really, sir, unless you want to watch me.”
Want to watch? Underfuckingstatement of the decade. “Fuck, that was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. I’m going to be replaying that in my head every night while I’m gone, when I’m alone in my quarters. I’m going to put my hand on my cock.” And he did. “And I’m going to hold it tight, and think about your pretty lips touching the end of your pretty cock.”
Grimes wriggled. He looked uncomfortable.
Oh, shit. Maybe it wasn’t good to concentrate on something so extreme.
“That’s not all,” McKnight said quickly. “I’ll be thinking about lots of different things. But this… you can’t blame me for…”
Grimes slid his hand up McKnight’s side. “I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want you to see it and think about it, sir.”
“Yeah, but there’s so much more. You don’t have to do anything that, you know.”
“Too kinky for you, sir?”
“Hell, no. I just don’t want you to think you have to keep coming up with new stuff all the time. Because all the old stuff is fucking great.”
Grimes licked his lips. “So, you’d be happy just to sit in your chair and watch the Superbowl video and let me suck your cock.”
“Hell, yes.” McKnight’s cock stiffened.
“Or sit in the back room and have a smoke while I lick your balls and rub my face all over your cock.”
“Oh, hell, yes.” And his cock began to gather moisture at the tip.
“Or watch me clean your come off your boots with my tongue.”
McKnight’s vision blurred. Grimes could have been cleaning come off his boots at that very moment and McKnight wouldn’t have been able to see it. McKnight grabbed his own dick to stop it from spurting all over the place.
Grimes’ cock moved against McKnight’s thigh. It was starting to leak. Might have been from the dirty talk. Might have been from the way McKnight was squeezing on his own cock. Hard to say with Grimes, sometimes.
Grimes was smiling. “Or I could kiss you. Danny.” And he did, hand on McKnight’s cock, tongue in McKnight’s mouth.
Then he climbed on top of McKnight.
And it wasn’t particularly kinky, but his asshole was tight and hot and lubed inside, and he kept kissing McKnight throughout the entire fuck, until the very end, when McKnight was sprung so tight he was about to burst, and Grimes was open and loose.
Then Grimes stopped kissing and said “I promise to practice, but I won’t actually come in my mouth until you get back.”
Done for, undone and done like dinner. McKnight came hard. Grimes jerked off on McKnight’s belly and slid down to lick it up.
Kinky as he wants to be. Okay. McKnight probably wouldn’t survive it, but that was okay. There were worse days to go than to be fucked to death by John Grimes.
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