Ehh my first fanfic...ever, really. 8D;; I'm not what one would call an avid writer. But I love this pairing, there is a sad lack of fics for them, and I decided to try my hand at it.
Reviews are lovely, and this isn't a one-shot, so there will be more of this story at some point. :3
"Ike, what the hell?" Marth had meant for his little screech to be angry, but it came out sounding like more of a moan.
There was absolutely no good reason for the teal-haired monarch to be senselessly pinned against his dorm-room wall, and yet here he was. His eyes were narrowed into dangerous slits, but his conviction was ruined when his eyebrows pulled up unintentionally to something happening below him.
"Relax, Marth…" Ike and his rough, husky voice were entirely too close. Well, the voice bothered him, but what was really irritating Marth was the position of Ike's knee. He wished the wall behind him would evaporate so he could fall through, because he wasn't sure how much farther his protesting spinal cord would let him back into the wall. And for every fraction of a centimeter he backed up, Ike only got closer.
Ike was advancing his knee on Marth's inner thigh, with one hand shoving him into the wall, and the other holding a firm grip on his chin. In other words, he had the little prince pegged. He briefly considered moving their little scene to Marth's nearby bed, but he feared the prince taking advantage of the opportunity to run. So they were intimately entwined with one another on the far wall of Marth's room—opposite the door. Well…Ike was intimately entwined, and Marth was by default when he ran out of free space between himself and the wall.
"By the grace of—nnnh! Ike! Get off of me before I—wagh!" Marth was having some trouble forming a coherent enough threat to get the mercenary off of him. Not like it would've mattered if he could form a coherent sentence or not. An entire Altean army couldn't remove the mercenary from his position of power over the petite little man. Ike smirked at roughly the exact moment his knee connected with Marth's pelvis. Coincidentally, that was the same time that Marth, cut off from whatever threat he was attempting to put in the air, cried out. He fisted both of his hands against the wall behind him, bucked his head up—tearing from Ike's grip on his chin--and bit his lip to try to keep it from happening again. He slowly lowered his head enough to glare daggers at Ike, but his mouth twitched, fighting the urge to moan again.
The older male watched him with a hint of amusement on his features. He removed his hands from their positions on various areas of the prince's body, and instead leaned into him, his forehead nearly touching the other male's. Nothing out of Marth. His eyes were twitching closed, and he was fighting all instinct to give up and left Ike have his way with him, which was an awful lot harder than it sounded. So much self control, that one. Ike thought to himself. Suppose that's how the little thing is still a virgin after all these months… Ike shrugged nonchalantly, returning to the scene, and finished his unheard thought aloud. "Well, your highness, that's about to change…" he murmured into Marth's cheek.
Marth, although he thought he would be pretty far beyond feeling anything at the moment, felt a weird tension lift from the air. Something that can only be noticed once it's gone. The monarch felt a warm blush creep up his face as he realized just how intimate Ike and his lusting gaze were planning to be. In a last ditch effort to struggle free, Marth wriggled his arms and legs, hoping at best to drop onto the floor and be able to crawl away.
No such luck.
In fact, his little trembly movements only ended up bringing him down harder on Ike's knee. His eye twitched and he seethed, cursing himself under his breath for making his job harder.
The taller of the two had leaned back a fraction, and was now merely keeping his knee locked in place. After evaluating the position of Marth's legs for a bit, his mouth formed an unintentional devilish smile. He leaned his head in once more, coming closer to the prince's struggling face.
"Are you finished?" Ike asked seductively, his tongue making exaggerated movements in his mouth.
Sensing no way out, Marth looked up at the suddenly nearer face with lidded eyes and nodded meekly. To his relief, Ike left his personal space…well…some of it. The mercenary backed his head away, at least. Now if he could just move that knee, Marth'd be able to—"Good." Ike replied. He sported a look of concentration for a split second, which then changed back to that shit-eating grin he was wearing before. It was maddening.
With the same look on his face, Ike began slowly bringing his knee up the wall. Marth, being forced onto his knee in some uncomfortable remake of a sitting position, gasped, but had no choice other than to go with it. Ike's patience was running low, so he hoisted his knee up as far as he wanted quite quickly.
"W—Whagh!" The prince was taken completely by surprise, and his feet being jerked off the floor that way caused him to lean forward. He was going to use his hands to balance himself a safe distance from the older man, but Ike had other plans. He grabbed the monarch's hands by his wrists, and pinned them to the wall. Without his hands to help get his footing…or…handing…Marth leaned straight into Ike's chest. There wasn't entirely enough momentum for him to try to get back up, but he kept trying anyway.
Well the mercenary certainly wasn't having that.
He pinned the prince's wrists harder into the wall, and stared him down. If it were at all possible, Ike's grin would've widened. He started using his knee again, rubbing sensual circles into Marth's pelvis area again.
"Auu--nnnn!" Marth's eyes bugged out for a second before snapping closed, and his mouth, which had fallen slack for a while, started a husky moan before he cut it off with clenched teeth. The faint red tint of his pale skin was visibly sinking towards his neck, and farther still. His eyes twitched and he shivered as he felt all of his blood headed southbound. He clamped his eyes shut, not wanting to look at Ike anymore. In fact, he really just wanted to go to sleep, not be raped against his dorm-room wall.
Ike knocked their two heads together, completely eliminating any chance of Marth's escape as he forced his way into the little prince's mouth. The hammering of his own heart and his labored but quickened breathing drowned out every other sound in the area. But there must have been some kind of sound, because the sapphire haired male abruptly disconnected their faces and turned towards the door.
Well? What do you all think so far? o:
Expect more of this unless there's a forming pitchfork mob.