Vanilla
Series: Flavor of the Month
Title: Vanilla
Author: Hiper Bunny
Pairing: Kourt/Kato
Category: PWP (if you can believe it!)
Fandom: Bonds of Choice Extended Universe (oh GOD that feels good!)
Disclaimer: There's a Jedi who's sure/ All that glitters is Force/ and he's
buying a Stairway to Luuu-cas
Notes:
Thank you Fox, for being willing to beta ALL this crap. Even the stuff
spawned by fever dreams
Thanks also to Layna, who WILL one day squeek, deep in the pits of the Evil
Empire. I declare it.
I really, totally believe that, except for one word, this is original fic.
This is also my first success in writing a PWP in this fandom. Tell me if
you liked it or if it sucked, feedback on-list is a GOOD thing!
It's strange to me now, the way you opened up to me. Our meeting was so
tainted, mixed up in blood and rhetoric. It's surprising to me that the
love got through at all. I can't forget your taste, the pure innocence in
your eyes that first time you looked at me and told me how you felt. Stoned to the gills and buck-naked on a bed in one of the most tawdry planets of
the Republic you said "I find myself almost uncontrollably attracted to
you."
My attraction to you was not uncontrollable. It was something I chose to
feel, continue to choose to feel, every day. I have selected you to be my
own trusted partner, and I know I have chosen rightly. The wonder, of
course, is that you have opted to accept this left-handed compliment. What
could move so wonderful a person as you to undertake the upkeep of a badly
worn, overaged old villain like me? I don't spy under the miracles, though.
I take them for what they are. I accept you for who you are, as you have
accepted me.
One day, almost ten years gone now, you stood in the doorway of a cabana on
some tropical island. The moons were making wonderful glitter of the ocean,
and you were swaying to the sound of the surf. Your hair was so long, then.
Before you lost it that first time. As fine as silk and twice as soft, it
was its own night time treasure and bore its own illumination. Your loose,
thin shirt was unfastened, caught in the same strong night breezes that
played havoc with your hair. About your hips was one of those royal blue
sarongs for which we both have a certain fondness, though for different
reasons. It was the thin material of that garment that gave you away.
You'd been trying to stay mad at me for better than two days, though I doubt
your actual ire had lasted more than an hour. When it comes to the gentler
arts of the Jedi, you are my superior in any number of ways. But you had
reason to be angry, so if you chose to counterfeit the effects, if not the
emotion, I was in no position to call you on it. Waking to discover you
were not in our bedroom was bad enough, especially considering that I woke
on the floor, as per your orders. To find you in the doorway, watching surf
and stars, was almost too much to bear. But you heard my approach and
half-turned, and I saw why you weren't in our rooms.
You gave me one of those little half-smiles, the kind that tells me you
recognize your own foolishness and are near helpless to do anything
constructive about it. "Damn you anyway," you muttered. "No man has any
right to be as sexy as you are when I'm trying to stay pissed."
Your cock was already straining against the folds of your wrap, a proud,
possibly rebellious display of your desire for me. I could do no less than
honor it. Silently I moved to stand before you, then dropped to one knee
and tilted my face up in offering. You took pity on me and kissed my mouth,
filling me with your scent and your taste for a long, blessed moment before
withdrawing. You leaned back against the doorframe and crossed your arms
over your chest, expectation written on your every feature.
My hands slid up your thighs, cherishing the skin beneath them before
loosening and casting aside the sarong. Your shirttails still fluttered
unfettered, and I quite enjoyed the sometimes-there feel of the light
material against my face as I kissed along the curve of your belly and down
into the spare cradle of your hip. I smelled of you deeply then, the spice
and musk that is at once earthy and sublime. Your skin had tanned dark on
this world, making the spice that much more appropriate. You seemed to have
been created for flower-crowns and torchlight rites of honor, some child of
a primal deity. I opened my mouth to invite you within me and you twisted
your fingers in my hair, holding me still for the claiming.
I made short work of my own preparations, slacking muscles and softening
edges so that you could simply thrust into my mouth and throat as it pleased
you. For myself, I had a bellyful of passion that ached for you, even as I
slid forward to press myself against your inner calf. Even there your skin
is soft and your muscles are strong and controlled. I cupped your buttocks
in my hands, pulling you deeper into me and encouraging you to thrust
harder, to use me to your best advantage. All the while I stroked your
rock-hard shaft with my tongue, teasing sighs and gasps from you.
How long we were thus engaged I do not know. I am only certain that when
your seed spilled into me the rains had already begun. The storms would
keep everyone indoors, more or less, for the next three days. When at last
we emerged into the sunlight I was not yet forgiven, but I think we were
both enjoying the process of 'making up.'
In these days that we are separated, I think of those nights when we were
together.
-end-
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