Together
folder
M through R › Matrix, The (All)
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,009
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
M through R › Matrix, The (All)
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,009
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Matrix movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Together
Title: Together
Author: Lizzie
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: One/Two
Warnings: Incest (if you choose to view it as such, of course); almost-graphic m/m sex; a little bloodplay (bless those razors!)
Disclaimer: Not mine, don’t sue. All you’ll get is a collection of my trashy fanfic and a well-thumbed copy of LotR anyway.
Summary: Total PWP, with not a hint of plot whatsoever. For bri_chan, because she asked for Dominant!Two ;-)
***
Two pressed the blade flat against One’s scrotum and smirked momentarily as a quick, involuntary shiver ran down his brother’s spine. The steel would be cold against his hot flesh, and unexpected. And Two was not often so unabashedly dominant. When it happened, it always came as a surprise.
“Keep still”, he said, and One nodded dumbly as Two leant forward, placed the razor on the smooth white muscle of his stomach and fished two long, black ribbons from drawdrawer by their bed. One watched intently from behind his dark glasses as Two knelt astride his waist and moved to tie his hands; the wet head of his erection pressed against One’s chest as he pulled the ribbons almost painfully tight, first around his brother’s wrists and then around the bedposts. The long ends trailed down over his pale forearms and down onto the white satin pillows on which One’s head rested.
“These bonds won’t keep us tied here, Two”, said One, a small frown creasing his brow. “We could easily phase out of them”.
“Yes, you could”, said Two, picking up the razor and running his thumb experimentally along the sharp edge. The blade shone harshly, somehow still cold and silver in the warmth of the golden candlelight. “But you won’t”.
“We won’t?”
Two shook his head. “No, One; you’ll stay right there. Because if you don’t, I’ll leave”.
One didn’t move. He understood.
Two left the bed. “Close your eyes”, he said, padding softly across the room, and One did as he was told. His brother vanished as his eyelids fluttered shut, isolating him. All he could hear was the sound of his brother’s bare feet against the bare wooden floorboards and the constant whir of the ceiling fan above him, the gentle breeze from which suddenly seemed to chill him to the bone. His skin tingled with it. He shivered.
The footsteps stopped at the foot of the bed and One wanted to open his eyes. He didn’t; he bit gently on his bottom lip with his sharp teeth and willed away the desire. The waiting was unbearable, long, cold moments stretching out and tugging at his skin. Then the blade touched the sole of his foot.
It ran up lightly from his heel to his big toe, the touch almost tickling like the satin ribbons against his forearms but with a harder edge, a sharper edge. When it was gone again he felt the touch still and realised after one breathless moment that what he felt was a trickle of his own blood. The warm, wet flat of Two’s tongue followed shortly after.
He felt the mattress shift beneath him with Two’s added weight. He felt the heat from his brother’s body as he spread his thighs, warm palms pressing lightly at his knees. Then the blade came, up over his exposed calf, over his left thigh. His foot stung against the bed sheets and Two’s hand came to rest on his hip as his tongue traced the razor’s bloody path over his skin. He bit down harder on his lip. Two’s long dreadlocks brushed against his hardened cock.
“We want to see”, he gasped. Two’s free hand wandered higher, onto his stomach, which quivered with the contact. The blade traced a lazy line across his abdomen, seeming sharper now, cutting deeper. One could almost feel the blood welling in the shallow wounds, spilling over the smooth edges onto his pale skin. “Let us…”
“Keep your eyes closed”. Two’s harsh whisper sounded by his ear though in a moment his hot tongue swiped over One’s belly, down into his navel. One squirmed against the bed, pulled against the ribbons. “Stay still”. He found he couldn’t disobey.
He felt Two’s fingers by his temples as he lifted his glasses away. He heard the click of metal and glass against wood as he set them down on the nightstand by the bed.
"We want to see our eyes", said One. "We want to see us both, see what we’ve done".
"There is no 'we' here, One", said Two, his tone cold as he held the razor to his brother's throat. " I'll take off my glasses when I feel like it. And I don't feel like it".
One shuddered. His closed eyes stung.
One’s mouth hung open uselessly and his fingers clutched at the ribbons as Two’s tongue rasped across the fine white hair that trailed down from his navel. His cock was lodged under Two’s chin, against the hollow at the base of his throat, and the fingers of Two’s left hand went to his balls, squeezing roughly, making him moan. Then, pressing the razor tight against One’s throat, Two took him deep into his mouth. The head of his cock nudged against the back of his brother’s throat and his balls tightened. He swallowed and felt the razor bite down sharply. He pulled harder on the ribbons. It was dizzying.
Then Two pulled back and One frowned, the cool air from the fan blowing over his wet cock, making him shudder down low in his spine. The razorblade shifted from his throat. Two’s weight shifted on the bed. One could feel him now; he was kneeling astride his waist, letting One’s cock press bluntly at his arse.
It was a surprise. One almost opened his eyes but caught himself in time and took a deep, shuddering breath. Two’s left hand clutched at his shoulder and he tapped the flat edge of the razor against the inside of One’s left forearm. His arse pressed down teasingly against the head of his cock, wiggled enticingly against it, and One had to struggle not to buck upwards, a strangled moan dying in his throat.
He felt the blade move. It shifted, the sharp edge lying against his shoulder now, then trailed down onto his chest, blazing a fiery trail across his skin. He could feel the blood now, spilling from the cuts, bleeding down over his sides and down onto his back, soaking into the silk sheets. They’d be ruined now, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Fingers plucked at his hard, exposed nipples and Two’s tongue teased over his wounds. One’s breathing was heavy. He felt weak, dizzy, intoxicated with the smell of blood and semen. He longed to open his eyes.
Two pressed down sharply and One moaned loudly as Two’s tight body sank down around his cock. The heat was searing, the tightness so unbearably sweet that the sensation choked his breath and made his muscles contract. The wooden posts of the bed creaked as he pulled at the ribbons. His neck arched and his mouth opened wide in a silent, perfect O. Two moved up and pressed down again. One bucked from his hips and felt the razor at his throat. Two’s hand clutched his shoulder. He moved faster.
Two’s balls slapped against One’s abdomen with each downward stroke; One thrust up against him. Two’s hand left his shoulder and One knew he was jerking himself, fast, because that was what he would do in his brother’s position. Two moved faster. The bed was almost rocking and as One pulled down harder and Two moved faster and faster the frame creaked loudly, the mattress shifting. The pressure built, stirring hard and low in his balls and crawling up through his stomach, overtaking him, mounting, clawing, ‘til he heard Two’s low moan and felt the hot splash of semen against his chest and One found himself coming. He came hard and fast and hot, buried inside his brother. He was so dizzy. His heart was pounding.
Two moved. One heard the dull sound of the heavy-handled razor as it was placed on the nightstand and Two shifted, One’s softening cock pulling out of him. His feet hit the floor and his fingers caught One’s right wrist, loosening the ribbon ‘til his hand slipped free. He reached across the bed and repeated the action, pulling the ribbon free from the bedpost and trailing it lightly across his brother’s bloody chest.
“You can open your eyes now, One”, he said, his hand brushing over his neck, his nails scratching lightly.
One opened his eyes. Two looked right back at him, silver eyes shining in the gold light. There was a hint of a smile on his dark lips, and a stain of red blood.
One shifted, pulling himself up ‘til he was sitting cross-legged on the bed beside Two. He looked down at himself, ran his fingertips over the bright red scratches, the cuts, over the drying blood left by his own sharp razor. He smiled. For a moment of soft, glowing green, he phased, and phased back. He ran one silver-tipped, silver-ringed finger over the spot by his nipple where just a second before there’d been a bloody, red cut; the skin was white, perfect, completely unblemished. His smile brightened.
“Good as new”, he said.
“Beautiful”, Two agreed.
Two smiled, his mouth still stained red. When they kissed, hot mouths and lips and tongues pressing harshly against each other, they shared the taste of their blood. Then they pulled back, breathless.
“We’re beautiful”, said one, his grasp on his brother’s shoulders just a little too tight, just a little too desperate. “Aren’t we?”
Two nodded; he stroked his thumb softly over his brother’s high cheekbone. “Yes, we are”, he said.
***
End
***
Author: Lizzie
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: One/Two
Warnings: Incest (if you choose to view it as such, of course); almost-graphic m/m sex; a little bloodplay (bless those razors!)
Disclaimer: Not mine, don’t sue. All you’ll get is a collection of my trashy fanfic and a well-thumbed copy of LotR anyway.
Summary: Total PWP, with not a hint of plot whatsoever. For bri_chan, because she asked for Dominant!Two ;-)
***
Two pressed the blade flat against One’s scrotum and smirked momentarily as a quick, involuntary shiver ran down his brother’s spine. The steel would be cold against his hot flesh, and unexpected. And Two was not often so unabashedly dominant. When it happened, it always came as a surprise.
“Keep still”, he said, and One nodded dumbly as Two leant forward, placed the razor on the smooth white muscle of his stomach and fished two long, black ribbons from drawdrawer by their bed. One watched intently from behind his dark glasses as Two knelt astride his waist and moved to tie his hands; the wet head of his erection pressed against One’s chest as he pulled the ribbons almost painfully tight, first around his brother’s wrists and then around the bedposts. The long ends trailed down over his pale forearms and down onto the white satin pillows on which One’s head rested.
“These bonds won’t keep us tied here, Two”, said One, a small frown creasing his brow. “We could easily phase out of them”.
“Yes, you could”, said Two, picking up the razor and running his thumb experimentally along the sharp edge. The blade shone harshly, somehow still cold and silver in the warmth of the golden candlelight. “But you won’t”.
“We won’t?”
Two shook his head. “No, One; you’ll stay right there. Because if you don’t, I’ll leave”.
One didn’t move. He understood.
Two left the bed. “Close your eyes”, he said, padding softly across the room, and One did as he was told. His brother vanished as his eyelids fluttered shut, isolating him. All he could hear was the sound of his brother’s bare feet against the bare wooden floorboards and the constant whir of the ceiling fan above him, the gentle breeze from which suddenly seemed to chill him to the bone. His skin tingled with it. He shivered.
The footsteps stopped at the foot of the bed and One wanted to open his eyes. He didn’t; he bit gently on his bottom lip with his sharp teeth and willed away the desire. The waiting was unbearable, long, cold moments stretching out and tugging at his skin. Then the blade touched the sole of his foot.
It ran up lightly from his heel to his big toe, the touch almost tickling like the satin ribbons against his forearms but with a harder edge, a sharper edge. When it was gone again he felt the touch still and realised after one breathless moment that what he felt was a trickle of his own blood. The warm, wet flat of Two’s tongue followed shortly after.
He felt the mattress shift beneath him with Two’s added weight. He felt the heat from his brother’s body as he spread his thighs, warm palms pressing lightly at his knees. Then the blade came, up over his exposed calf, over his left thigh. His foot stung against the bed sheets and Two’s hand came to rest on his hip as his tongue traced the razor’s bloody path over his skin. He bit down harder on his lip. Two’s long dreadlocks brushed against his hardened cock.
“We want to see”, he gasped. Two’s free hand wandered higher, onto his stomach, which quivered with the contact. The blade traced a lazy line across his abdomen, seeming sharper now, cutting deeper. One could almost feel the blood welling in the shallow wounds, spilling over the smooth edges onto his pale skin. “Let us…”
“Keep your eyes closed”. Two’s harsh whisper sounded by his ear though in a moment his hot tongue swiped over One’s belly, down into his navel. One squirmed against the bed, pulled against the ribbons. “Stay still”. He found he couldn’t disobey.
He felt Two’s fingers by his temples as he lifted his glasses away. He heard the click of metal and glass against wood as he set them down on the nightstand by the bed.
"We want to see our eyes", said One. "We want to see us both, see what we’ve done".
"There is no 'we' here, One", said Two, his tone cold as he held the razor to his brother's throat. " I'll take off my glasses when I feel like it. And I don't feel like it".
One shuddered. His closed eyes stung.
One’s mouth hung open uselessly and his fingers clutched at the ribbons as Two’s tongue rasped across the fine white hair that trailed down from his navel. His cock was lodged under Two’s chin, against the hollow at the base of his throat, and the fingers of Two’s left hand went to his balls, squeezing roughly, making him moan. Then, pressing the razor tight against One’s throat, Two took him deep into his mouth. The head of his cock nudged against the back of his brother’s throat and his balls tightened. He swallowed and felt the razor bite down sharply. He pulled harder on the ribbons. It was dizzying.
Then Two pulled back and One frowned, the cool air from the fan blowing over his wet cock, making him shudder down low in his spine. The razorblade shifted from his throat. Two’s weight shifted on the bed. One could feel him now; he was kneeling astride his waist, letting One’s cock press bluntly at his arse.
It was a surprise. One almost opened his eyes but caught himself in time and took a deep, shuddering breath. Two’s left hand clutched at his shoulder and he tapped the flat edge of the razor against the inside of One’s left forearm. His arse pressed down teasingly against the head of his cock, wiggled enticingly against it, and One had to struggle not to buck upwards, a strangled moan dying in his throat.
He felt the blade move. It shifted, the sharp edge lying against his shoulder now, then trailed down onto his chest, blazing a fiery trail across his skin. He could feel the blood now, spilling from the cuts, bleeding down over his sides and down onto his back, soaking into the silk sheets. They’d be ruined now, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Fingers plucked at his hard, exposed nipples and Two’s tongue teased over his wounds. One’s breathing was heavy. He felt weak, dizzy, intoxicated with the smell of blood and semen. He longed to open his eyes.
Two pressed down sharply and One moaned loudly as Two’s tight body sank down around his cock. The heat was searing, the tightness so unbearably sweet that the sensation choked his breath and made his muscles contract. The wooden posts of the bed creaked as he pulled at the ribbons. His neck arched and his mouth opened wide in a silent, perfect O. Two moved up and pressed down again. One bucked from his hips and felt the razor at his throat. Two’s hand clutched his shoulder. He moved faster.
Two’s balls slapped against One’s abdomen with each downward stroke; One thrust up against him. Two’s hand left his shoulder and One knew he was jerking himself, fast, because that was what he would do in his brother’s position. Two moved faster. The bed was almost rocking and as One pulled down harder and Two moved faster and faster the frame creaked loudly, the mattress shifting. The pressure built, stirring hard and low in his balls and crawling up through his stomach, overtaking him, mounting, clawing, ‘til he heard Two’s low moan and felt the hot splash of semen against his chest and One found himself coming. He came hard and fast and hot, buried inside his brother. He was so dizzy. His heart was pounding.
Two moved. One heard the dull sound of the heavy-handled razor as it was placed on the nightstand and Two shifted, One’s softening cock pulling out of him. His feet hit the floor and his fingers caught One’s right wrist, loosening the ribbon ‘til his hand slipped free. He reached across the bed and repeated the action, pulling the ribbon free from the bedpost and trailing it lightly across his brother’s bloody chest.
“You can open your eyes now, One”, he said, his hand brushing over his neck, his nails scratching lightly.
One opened his eyes. Two looked right back at him, silver eyes shining in the gold light. There was a hint of a smile on his dark lips, and a stain of red blood.
One shifted, pulling himself up ‘til he was sitting cross-legged on the bed beside Two. He looked down at himself, ran his fingertips over the bright red scratches, the cuts, over the drying blood left by his own sharp razor. He smiled. For a moment of soft, glowing green, he phased, and phased back. He ran one silver-tipped, silver-ringed finger over the spot by his nipple where just a second before there’d been a bloody, red cut; the skin was white, perfect, completely unblemished. His smile brightened.
“Good as new”, he said.
“Beautiful”, Two agreed.
Two smiled, his mouth still stained red. When they kissed, hot mouths and lips and tongues pressing harshly against each other, they shared the taste of their blood. Then they pulled back, breathless.
“We’re beautiful”, said one, his grasp on his brother’s shoulders just a little too tight, just a little too desperate. “Aren’t we?”
Two nodded; he stroked his thumb softly over his brother’s high cheekbone. “Yes, we are”, he said.
***
End
***