Disclaimer: Neither Yassen Gregorovich nor Alex Rider belong to me. (but I sooo wish they would *sigh*) I'm not making money with this either. It's purely for fun and to enjoy my own obsession with a certain very hot 35-year-old contract killer and a sexy 14-year-old teenage spy. *harhar*
Warnings: male/male, language, explicit sex, underage sex (Alex is fifteen)
Author's comment: Nothing much to say folks. XD This is my first Alex Rider story and I wrote it when I haven't even read any of the Alex Rider books (I have now..XD) but a friend who loves the books for a long time already totally approved. *lol* So I think I kept them fairly good in character.^^ Comments and critics are appreciate! (very, very much craved for in fact *chuckles*)
Alex gasped and flailed about disorientated, searching desperately for something, anything, to hold onto. But there was only water around him. His feet didn't even touch the ground and his vision was blurred from the drugs they had injected him with - making his limbs feel weak too. He didn't know how long he'd still be able to stay above water.
Haphazardly he tried to push the hood of his sweater off his head but his movements were clumsy and uncoordinated. Had he been in a different state he might've tried to take off some of his clothes that were completely soaked by now and dragging him further down, but it was all he could do to keep swimming.
He felt dizzy and sick and wondered dimly what the hell it was they had drugged him with before they'd dumped him down here. For a few seconds his arms gave out and he vanished beneath the water surface, coughing and sputtering heavily when he came back up. Panic began to rise inside of him and by the way his breathing had become sharp and shallow, he tried his best not to hyperventilate.
His gasps and splashes reverberated hollowly. Maybe this was a tunnel; maybe he could find the end of it. Although highly doubting that he had enough strength left to make it, it wasn't like he had a choice. Unless he wanted to just give up and drown.
The thought sent an icy chill up his spine and he felt the cold water lapping at his neck and pulling at his clothes. It felt as if actual hands were reaching out to drag him under.
Pushing his irrational fears aside, Alex tried to swim forward, wherever that was and found it harder than he'd thought to get control of his arms and legs enough to coordinate his movements. His stomach was churning and he felt bile rising in his throat. He really was going to be sick. Gritting his teeth, he pushed on. It really couldn't be called swimming and he was sure he looked like some five-year-old just throwing his arms and legs out to slap the water with them. But who was he to complain as long as it kept him afloat.
The sound of a loud splash caused him to freeze momentarily and he strained to listen as the echo resounded for a few moments. Alex tried to think of something that would explain the noise. Maybe something heavy had fallen into the water – but what? Or maybe somebody. His stomach dropped at the thought. They wouldn't send somebody down to finish him off, would they? Or to make sure he really did drown. With bated breath he listened for further noises that would maybe tell him if somebody was swimming, coming closer.
He was pulled under once more and struggled as hard as he could, his clothes suddenly seeming to weigh tons. He resurfaced only for a second and managed a sharp gasp for air before the water surrounded him again.
Numbness started to creep through his limbs, making it more and more difficult to move. He couldn't tell if it was the cold water or the drug setting in some more. Maybe it was both. Most likely it was.
The longer he stayed under water, the greater his need for air became. His lungs actually began to burn. He really, really wanted to open his mouth and breathe. Just for a moment. Just to-
A hand grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back up.
Alex gasped loudly as the so desperately longed for air filled his lungs. He clutched at the person in front of him, clinging to anything he could reach. His legs really had gone numb now and were dragging him down like dead weight. Taking deep gulps of air, he squinted into the semi-darkness but all he could make out was the silhouette of somebody in front of him - somebody who had just saved his life. Or maybe not?
"Who are you?" Alex panted and reflexively reached out into the direction he thought the other's face would be. That really must've counted as the stupidest idea he'd ever had. But wasn't that what blind people did too? Feeling somebody's face to tell who it was? Not that he could do it but it was worth a try, wasn't it?
His attempt was thwarted, however, when the stranger caught his wrist and pushed his arm away. Before Alex could protest or start another try, he was pulled along and held on to the other's back tightly. Their arms and legs bumped into each other from time to time, it made Alex realize just how numb his legs really were and now he was losing all feeling in his fingers too. Afraid that he'd be separated from his saviour and left to fend for himself again, he wrapped his arms in a desperate move around the stranger's neck, probably hanging on to it more tightly than he should. But the man (at least Alex thought it was a man) didn't protest.
Alex stared intently at the back of the man's head, trying to order his thoughts.
It must've been the splash he'd heard. So somebody beside his enemies must've known where he was, maybe even anticipated what would happen to him. But where were they? Some kind of sewage system underneath that huge mansion he'd been in? At least it didn't smell like the sewage or maybe that was just his nose giving up on him too. He couldn't trust his eyes or pretty much the rest of his body anymore, who knew what this drug had done to his nose.
Swimming with Alex on his back didn't seem to tire out the stranger at all, the blonde spy noted after they'd been moving through the darkness for quite some while and all he could hear were the soft echoes of the water and the calm, steady breathing of the man in front of him. Not that he was a bad swimmer (well, when he wasn't drugged anyway) but that kind of stamina was almost scary.
He wanted to say something. Thank the stranger for saving his life. But he had the feeling that he wouldn't get much of an answer and it probably also wasn't a bad idea to wait until he really was somewhere save and with solid ground under his feet. Who knew if this guy really was here to save his life or just drag him back up to that mansion, so they could torture him some more. Maybe they'd realized that they'd dumped him down here without trying to get any information out of him.
The thought nearly made him snort. They'd thought he was just some stupid random kid that had gotten lost and ended up in the mansion and accidentally listened to that really top-secret conference of theirs. Well, lucky for him. More or less.
They now made a sharp turn to the left and Alex wondered how this guy was able to see anything in the darkness. He briefly thought that maybe the stranger was just as lost as he was and that was the reason why they were swimming for such a seemingly long time. At least it felt like ages to him already. But then he saw light shimmering on the water as they'd apparently rounded a corner and a wave of relief washed over him.
The light was growing brighter and Alex was able to make out the end of that underwater tunnel they were in. It didn't look like the sewage anymore though. More like the ocean and this here was some kind of drainage. Maybe it was the freshwater supply for the mansion, directly coming from the ocean. He could remember that he'd heard something distinctly like the sound of waves when he'd reached the top of the hill the almost palace like house had been on.
Well, so apparently his nose wasn't useless after all and he wouldn't get back to daylight with rubbish hanging all over him. That had to be one thing he could be grateful for.
He was still clutching at the stranger's neck and suddenly thought it was a good idea to loosen that hold just a bit. When they were back on solid ground, he'd have to look that saviour of his in the eyes and still have some dignity left in him. So maybe he could start trying not to appear quite as terrified as he'd been minutes ago.
Alex' eyes wandered back to the man's head that was slightly illuminated now, but he was too close to see anything of the face. He had short, light-blond hair with a bit of a red tint that reminded Alex of somebody. The feeling was really, really familiar but he couldn't pin-point it. Damnit.
The curiosity to find out who had saved him was almost overwhelming. He knew it was ridiculous to do anything stupid now, especially when he'd find out about the man's identity in a matter of minutes anyway. And still.
They had almost reached the end of the tunnel when the stranger stopped and turned around.
Alex let go of the other's neck and his attention was diverted for a moment when he noticed that his feet touched the ground. He only stood for a split-second though, before his legs gave out again and he plunged into the water.
With a hard grip on his upper arm, he was pulled up and finally had the chance to find out who-
The shock was like a slap to the face and Alex would've stumbled back, hadn't it been for the hand still holding his arm. His eyes widened and for a moment he thought that maybe this drug made him see things that couldn't possibly exist. It had to. This or-
He'd gone delirious. "You!" Alex winced as his voice echoed through the tunnel. That was impossible. Impossible. "Are dead," he added, slightly dazed and shook his head as if to dispel the image of a person who he'd seen dying.
But it was all there. The sharp features, the cold blue eyes and that unfazed expression. He knew it all too well. And the hair had seemed so familiar. Alex nearly laughed despite himself.
Yassen Gregorovich. This was insane.
"You can't be here," he finally concluded, still unable to believe that he was seeing the Russian contract killer. For god's sake he'd seen the man dying.
"Well, I guess you just drowned then."
The deep and indifferent voice sent a shiver up his spine and for a moment Alex couldn't wrap his mind around what the other had said. It was probably embarrassing but he couldn't help staring at Yassen in disbelief and astonishment. He didn't see somebody coming back from the dead every day after all.
"How'd you know I was here?" Alex asked confusedly. How did he know indeed?
Instead of answering his question, however, the Russian maneuvered him up against the wall and looked to the end of the tunnel. The light was throwing his profile into a great contrast of black and white as it drew stark shadows and emphasized the sharp lines of Yassen's face. "There are many guards outside. We will wait for the dark."
Alex tried to prop himself up against the wall but it was too slippery and the water was still too deep for him to stand. Every time he managed for his feet to touch the ground, he nearly vanished under the water surface. Cursing inwardly, he resorted to the only other option he had and reached for Yassen's shoulder to stay afloat. The Russian didn't seem to pay his struggling much heed. His eyes were still intently fixed to the end of the tunnel as he listened if they'd been discovered.
"Look," Alex sputtered after just having swallowed another gulp of water and was growing increasingly frustrated with the situation. "They drugged me with something-"
That seemed to catch Yassen's attention, for he turned back to face the young spy and raised an eyebrow. "I noticed."
"Great," he almost pouted. But then not really. "Then maybe you could help me not to drown after all," he half-accused the other and grabbled at the wet stones behind him but failed to steady himself once more. "My legs are numb, I can't stand and the water is too deep. Can't we move a bit-"
"No," The assassin cut across his words resolutely but before Alex could retort something, he was pushed up against the wall again and gasped in shock as Yassen shoved his thigh between his legs.
He couldn't help the heat crawling up his cheeks as he gaped at the other, attempting to back up and get some distance between them. "What the heck are you doing?"
Yassen threw him an irritated look. "Keeping you afloat?"
The teen couldn't help but stare at him incredulously for a moment. "Well, what about using your hands instead?" He snapped in return, trying his best to cover up his embarrassment with annoyance. Who knew if Yassen was even aware that his move could've maybe, by a teenager Alex' age, been seen as something completely different?
"I need them elsewhere."
Alex eyes widened some more. "Huh?" He uttered intelligently, while telling himself that Yassen didn't mean what he thought he'd meant.
The assassin reached behind his back and that's when Alex noticed the strap across Yassen's torso. A second later, the Russian held a gun in one hand and released the safety catch with the other. Somewhere between confusion and surprise, the meaning of Yassen's words dawned on him as he watched him check the gun before getting out some bullets and loading it. He marveled silently at the assassin's quick, efficient moves, the fact that he was still held upright by a thigh pressed against his groin seemingly forgotten. For now.
It would probably never cease to amaze and scare him just how deadly this man was.
Clicking the safety catch twice, to make sure it was back in place, Yassen secured the weapon in a little holder at the strap on his chest. "It is shortly before sundown. We will be able to proceed soon," he surveyed Alex intently. "The drug should have worn off by then."
The young spy nodded, hoping that Yassen was right because it really started to suck to be so utterly useless. He was beginning to feel like some dead weight the other had to drag along. Not to mention that he was getting colder the longer he was rendered immobile. Raising his hands, he saw goose bumps rising on his arms and the skin on his fingers had already become white and somewhat squishy. The teen groaned internally. Why couldn't they be somewhere in the Caribbean with nice lukewarm water?
A few minutes of silence passed and Alex wondered if it would be any use trying to engage the Russian in small talk. Maybe his desperation to say something wouldn't be quite so great if he wasn't pressed bodily against the wall by Yassen and their close proximity wouldn't make him so nervous. As it was, however, he really wished very badly for that damn drug to wear off, so he could stay or swim by himself. He also wished that he wouldn't be so horribly aware of the assassin's thigh continuously rubbing against his-
Alex gave a strangled "Umph" noise as Yassen adjusted his posture and consequently brushed this thigh rather strongly up against his groin. Heat twisted in his stomach at the unintentionally stimulating friction and he bit his lip, stifling any further sound.
The assassin gave him an odd look that he returned with an uncomfortable grumble. "A bit consideration would be appreciated." He really couldn't have been more grateful for the growing darkness around them, because his cheeks were burning. Maybe Yassen could feel that. He certainly wouldn't be surprised if he could.
Chances were that he could feel something else too and for an agonizingly long moment as he looked at the Russian, Alex wished for a bomb to explode somewhere or sudden gunfire to start that would interrupt the most embarrassing moment in his life. Nothing of that sort happened of course and so he was left to hope that Yassen would have the decency to keep any comments to himself.
"What are we gonna do when we're out of this tunnel?" Alex broke their eye contact and squinted slightly as he looked towards the end of the tunnel. Maybe he could distract himself by talking or by making the assassin talk about something vital as how they would stay alive as soon as they got out of here. Maybe it would also make his hormones realize that this really wasn't the right moment at all to kick in. Especially not when it wasn't a pretty girl his age pressed up against him.
Then again, he never went for the easy catch.
"We will swim," Yassen replied eventually and Alex felt a lot less grateful for having been saved by the assassin. It appeared that conversation wasn't one of the Russian's strengths.
"Great. And th-" Alex halted as the other lifted his arm and he followed the movement with his eyes, cursing inwardly when all Yassen did was brace himself with his left hand against the wall next to him. He was getting paranoid. "And then?"
"Why are you nervous?" The assassin asked unexpectedly and Alex found the elder's eyes on him once more, watching him closely. "You are very agitated too."
Opening his mouth, he realized that he didn't know how to answer that question. Alex frowned slightly and chewed on his lower lip, wishing Yassen wouldn't stare at him like that. "Because of… the whole, uh… situation?" He offered lamely, not believing for a second that the other would buy it. His eyes dropped to the gun when he couldn't hold the Russian's calculating gaze anymore. "Are you going to use it?"
The assassin raised an eyebrow at him as if to say 'You should know better than to ask questions like that' but said: "If I have to. But I would prefer not to. The gun has no silencer; it would draw too much attention. "
Wow. That must've been the longest time he had managed to make Yassen talk since he'd saved him. It seemed they were making some progress after all.
Unfortunately, he didn't have much time to think about how else he could engage the assassin in some kind of light conversation, as the other shifted on his foot a little. No doubt, standing the way Yassen did wasn't exactly comfortable for a long time and holding his balance no less, while preventing a wriggling teenager from drowning along the way.
The Russian's hand curled around Alex' left upper arm, shoving him slightly up the wall and pushing his legs further apart. That way he could prop his knee against the stones and relief some of the young spies weight from his leg.
At first, Alex was too surprised to react at all and watched, a little in awe, as the assassin moved as if he wasn't supporting Alex' entire weight on one leg. The man's strength really was scary. A moment later, it was all he could do to refrain from moaning when Yassen's thigh half-ground against his arousal. Again. His hips gave an involuntary jerk, creating the most maddening friction.
"Argh!" Alex yelped but was immediately silenced by Yassen clapping a hand over his mouth. Cursing incoherently into the hand for a moment, he yanked at the Russian's arm and pulled it away from his mouth. "Let go of me, damnit! Let me down!" He hissed in protest, careful to keep his voice down and tried to kick out with his legs which ended up being a few uncoordinated jerks at best. That didn't stop the young spy from being persistent though. "If I drown, so what?! Anything! I don't care! But this is humiliating!"
The assassin gave him a positively disturbed look and for a second Alex nearly forgot about the situation he was in. That was probably a face he was never ever going to see in his life, ever, again. Something in the eyes of the Russian told him, however, that it wouldn't be a good idea to laugh.
"You are aroused," Yassen deadpanned suddenly, regaining his composure.
Alex froze, not quite believing what he'd just heard. He felt as if ice cubes had dropped down into his stomach, but the assassin only shrugged unconcernedly. "It is true, is it not? You should take care of it. It will be very distracting otherwise."
The young spy nearly choked on his spit as he tried to swallow the heavy lump that was stuck in his throat. "I- what?" He exclaimed, wincing at the hysteric pitch in his voice. This wasn't the most embarrassing moment in his life, it was a fucking nightmare! "This is your fault to begin with!" Accusing the assassin probably wasn't his smartest move, but hell did he care about the consequences.
Yassen raised his eyebrows, looking as unimpressed as ever. "Is it?" He leaned in a little, causing Alex to back up, as far as that was possible, anyway. The young spy's eyes widened slightly, his heart hammering. This was utterly and completely insane. And it had started with Yassen saving his life when he really should be dead! Damnit, he wasn't even attracted to the assassin!
Well, not in the general sense of attraction. How could he be attracted to someone who he'd thought was dead for nearly six months now? Right, so Yassen was kinda, uh… handsome, when he was still alive. Which he was now, again.
Ack! What the hell was he thinking? This didn't help.
"Well, I didn't- You just-" Alex stammered, trying frantically to come up with something suitable to say that would make this whole mess a lot less embarrassing. He was soaking wet, pressed up against a wall with Yassen's thigh rubbing over his groin and - god, why the hell did this have to feel so good?! – he was hard. Let's face it; there really wasn't anything he could say. "You could've held me up with your hands if you'd just loaded your damn gun beforehand!" He finally blurted out.
A moment later realization hit him as he noticed the corner of Yassen's lips twitch slightly in amusement. Alex flushed madly and opened his mouth, desperate to convince the assassin that he didn't mean it that way but eventually closed it again. He was sure that one could actually die of embarrassment. And hoped it would happen to him. Soon.
To his utter shock, the Russian suddenly reached for the fly of his pants and started to open it, pulling the zipper down. "What- what are you doing?" Alex gasped, momentarily petrified.
Yassen looked at him with a slightly exasperated expression and halted his movements. "I said you need to take care of it. I do not know about you, but most men cannot swim with an erection."
Ugh. How could he say things like that?! And with a completely straight face! "I'm not gonna do it in front of you! What the hell are you thinking?!" The teen could only stare at the Russian in disbelief. Did he have no sense for privacy? "God," he dropped his face into his hands. "This is so embarrassing."
"It only is because you make it," Yassen stated simply. He retracted his hand from the teen's pants.
Alex looked up from between his fingers and found the assassin eyeing him calmly. "You are young, Alex. It is normal to be easily stimulated at your age. That is nothing to be ashamed of."
For a few moments, the young spy returned the Russian's even gaze before groaning and burying his face in his hands again. "Could you not be so grown-up about this?" He muttered, his words muffled by his fingers. "I bet when you were a teenager, you weren't half as cool about this when it happened to you!" As soon as the words were out he flushed some more. Shit. He so wanted a hole to open up and swallow him right now.
Yassen chuckled lowly. The sound reverberated slightly through the tunnel and Alex couldn't help the shiver. It sounded nice. "I am 35, Alex. And, as a matter of fact, this never happened to me. I learned self-control at a very early age."
Now it was Alex' turn to raise an eyebrow and he dropped his hands. "Seriously? 'Cause, you know, in movies Russian guys are always the ones with the most women."
Amusement showed in the assassin's eyes. "Are they?"
"Uh-huh," he nodded. "They usually own brothels and stuff," grinning a little, he pushed a few damp strands out of his face. "But you should know that, shouldn't you? Aren't some of the guys you've worked for just like that?"
Alex blinked startled and leaned back when Yassen bent over him, coming dangerously close all of a sudden. "Indeed they are," the assassin replied, his voice slightly rough. "They are vile and despicable men that treat women and men, mind you, like their personal property, with no regard for their dignity or life. Do not compare me to them."
Swallowing, Alex shook his head and backtracked. "That's- I didn't mean it like that," he rectified, a little puzzled by the Russian's reaction. Sure, probably no one wanted to be compared to those sick bastards that raped women for the fun of it or sold them to someone who treated them equally inhumane. But he had actually meant it in a funny kind of way, thinking about Russian men with their funny accents and blatant pick-up lines. Besides- "But you're a contract killer. I mean-" he winced at a, yet again, thoughtless comment.
But Yassen didn't seem angry. "That is true. But I do not torture them nor do I find enjoyment in their deaths," the assassin replied easily before turning his head towards the end of the tunnel. The setting sun was colouring the ocean blood-red. "It is almost time for us to leave."
The pointed look the Russian gave him wasn't necessary at all to remind Alex of his little problem that their, surprisingly long and engaging, conversation had managed to distract him from. Unfortunately, he was still aroused and came to the conclusion that being a teenager was a real curse. Not that he was eager to get old fast but if he'd still look half as good as Yassen did with 35, he really didn't mind growing older all that much.
"I can't do it," mumbled Alex embarrassedly and felt his cheeks growing hot all over again. "I'm sorry, okay?" He gave the assassin an imploring look. "But I really just can't. I'll be… uh, fine by the time we leave." Lying was usually something he could pull off pretty well but being all flustered, plus the fact that his body was just proving them otherwise, made it a rather pathetic attempt.
Alex jumped when Yassen's hands were back on his pants. "No! Stop it!" He gritted, trying to slap the other's hands away from his fly. A startled sound left his lips as the assassin suddenly grabbed his wrists and pinned them against the wall. The Russian looked impatient and maybe just a little annoyed, making Alex swallow uncertainly.
"You said you cannot do it. So I will."
Not leaving time for Alex to interfere again or properly process what he'd just said, Yassen slipped his hand into the teen's pants and wrapped his fingers around the, despite the water, warm flesh. Alex eyes grew impossibly wide. He gasped sharply, his hips twitching traitorously but that didn't stop him from struggling against the Russian's hand that was still pinning both of his wrists to the wall above his head.
Impassive blue eyes regarded him silently, while the assassin's hand stroked him with shocking skill, squeezing and rubbing at all the right places, making him tremble all over. Alex breathing stuttered and his eyelashes fluttered dangerously. This was setting the blood in his veins on fire.
Why was Yassen looking at him like that?
The young spy nearly whined, tugging at the firm hold on his wrists. He wanted to- He-
"Lemme go," he pleaded breathlessly and the Russian complied, apparently not expecting any more resistance from him. The moment his hands were free, Alex dug his fingers into Yassen's shoulders and bowed his head, clenching his eyes shut. A shaky moan tumbled from his lips and he couldn't help it anymore as his hips bucked into the deliciously tight grip.
This wasn't happening. This just wasn't happening, the teen repeated over and over again in his head but his ability to think was slowly waning. The previously chilly temperature of the water was now pleasantly cool against his hot skin.
Alex thought he was losing his mind as Yassen thumbed over the head of his cock, actually circling and, god, how was he doing that? The teen whimpered in pleasure, wrapping his legs around the assassin's waist and pressing closer. If he'd thought earlier that feeling and some kind of strength had been coming back to his legs, they now felt as stable as jelly.
Dragging his nails down the Russian's back, Alex buried his fingers into the soaking wet shirt that stretched over Yassen's broad shoulder blades and let his head drop down onto the assassin's shoulder. He knew then and there that he wouldn't be able to see this through.
Yassen ran his short nails down his length, teasing the already oversensitive skin to a degree that was almost maddening in its intensity. With every stroke the fingers encircling the young spy's arousal tightened their grasp, making Alex groan loudly and arch his back as his toes curled. His whole body shook with need.
It wasn't supposed to feel this good! It was just a fucking hand job!
Suddenly the Russian was so close he could smell the slightly salty scent of the ocean on him, along with something sharp and citrus like. Blonde hair was brushing against his cheek and hot breath was fanning over his ear and down his neck. Alex shuddered and gasped, his nostrils flaring as he could almost taste Yassen on his tongue.
"You really need to stay quiet, Alex."
The teen bit back a groan as the deep voice flooded his senses. He'd never known his name could sound like that, rolling of the assassin's tongue the way it had. "Right," he half-moaned, tilting his head to the side. He really, really wished Yassen would kiss his neck. "Any other… wishes you got?"
The Russian chuckled quietly, a low rumble erupting in his chest. They were close enough for Alex to feel it, as well as the steady rise and fall of the other's chest.
A moment later it happened. Yassen pressed his lips to the hollow of the teen's neck, releasing a slightly shallow breath just before. It was only a mere ghost of a kiss at first but already enough for Alex to throw his head back and whimper at the sweet torment. He had been aching for the assassin to do that. And, fuck, the real thing felt even better than he would've ever been able to imagine.
He retracted one of his hands from the Russian's shirt, only to bury it in the short blonde hair. The urge for friction was becoming unbearable and he thrust into Yassen's hands, gasping and pleading incoherently as he felt the familiar tightening in his stomach.
"God, yess!" Alex yanked at the assassin's shirt, unable to contain himself any longer. His eyes flew open when he felt Yassen's tongue dart out and lick down the column of his throat, sucking on his collarbone. The thought that this would leave a mark crossed his mind but was lost a second later as the onslaught of sensations became all too much.
It was the sharp, almost electrical thrill the kiss had caused to shoot up his spine, along with the Russian's thumb pressing against the tip of his straining cock that sent him over the edge. Alex convulsed and bit down on the juncture of exposed skin between Yassen's neck and the seam of his shirt, muffling the choked shriek as his release came crashing down on him. His hands were desperately tugging at the assassin's hair and shirt as heavy tremors shook his body.
And the Russian didn't even stop stroking him, making it all too much to bear. Alex shuddered, his hips twitching and whined pleadingly. He wondered briefly if it was really possible to pass out from an orgasm because it sure as hell felt like it was going to happen to him really soon if Yassen wouldn't-
"Yassen!" He begged hoarsely. This was pure bliss but he just couldn't take it anymore.
Alex collapsed against the assassin, his breathing sharp and shallow and his skin tingling. The sudden awareness of the fabric of his clothes, the cold water around them and the Russian's body against him, made him realized just how on edge his senses were. It was a raw and intense feeling. Clenching his eyes shut, he let his head rest on Yassen's shoulder a little longer, unwilling to face the fact that he would have to look the assassin in the eye eventually. He was dimly aware that the Russian tugged his pants back up and buttoned them.
"We will leave in a few minutes."
Frowning, Alex stuck out his lower lip and leaned back against the wall. He hated how down to business the assassin sounded. Was this man even human? Maybe he was a machine. At least that seemed a lot more likely than to think of the Russian as a normal person with emotions and human failures and quirks.
"I hate you," the teen announced with conviction and crossed his arms, pointedly ignoring the light blush crawling up his cheeks. Yes, he had just been jerked off by the assassin and no, this was not the moment to think about it.
Yassen's lips quirked. "I guess I can live with that."
Huffing, Alex tried to free himself and gave the assassin a glowering look. "You can let me down now." The drug had worn off completely by now and his legs worked just fine, so no need to be pinned to the wall, feeling ridiculous, anymore. He was about to lift his foot to adjust his posture because he really didn't want to plunge into the water like a heavy chunk, when his knees brushed over-
Alex froze, his head snapping up and for a very long moment he and Yassen looked at each other motionlessly. Then the teenager blinked, his eyes widening slightly in realization and disbelief and a mischievous smile stretched his lips.
Was that-? Nah. Absolutely not.
The Russian raised an eyebrow, looking somewhat wary at the young spy.
Slowly and deliberately, Alex pressed his thigh back against the man's groin, clearly feeling the other's arousal. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to refrain from grinning. The thought that he had caused Yassen's hard-on was for some reason strangely satisfying.
He wanted to say something, but before he could get a word out the assassin took an unexpected step back and caused him to drop into the water. Coughing, the teen emerged again, not quite able to stand in the deep water and glared at Yassen. What was that? Punishment?
"The fact that I am aroused seems to be very amusing to you," observed the Russian matter-of-factly, a slight frown was tugging at his brows.
"Very," Alex agreed, gradually managing to keep himself afloat somewhat steadily.
Yassen pursed his lips. "Your behaviour is childish."
"We've got to leave soon. You don't wanna take care of it?" The teen teased with a grin, deliberately using the other's choice of words. The assassin's chiding comment was completely lost on him – because there would, no doubt, still be enough time to be serious and grown-up later on. This was far too much fun to pass up on.
Despite the fact that Alex was unabashedly gleeful how their situation was suddenly reversed. He couldn't deny that he was also curious what Yassen would do. He doubted, however, that the Russian would take his own advice on that one. In front of him, no less. He swallowed, momentarily forgetting to swim and vanished nose-deep in the water. Swimming on the spot sucked.
The assassin watched with a smile as Alex emerged again, spitting out a bit of water, before saying: "I am not fourteen anymore, Alex. Unlike you, I can control myself. In my case it will go away. So do not concern yourself." He waved his hand dismissively as if to say 'Nothing to worry about.'
Self-control, my ass.
It was Alex' turn to regard the Russian quietly, chewing on his lower lip as he pondered over what he would do. On one hand he knew pretty damn well that he was treading on very thin ice here, on the other hand he was really, really intrigued by the idea to find out about the limits of Yassen's self-control. Heat was churning in his stomach at the prospect.
Pushing himself away from the wall, Alex floated over to the assassin, grabbing at his arm and looking up at the taller man. "We still have some time, though." If only a hand job could make him feel so incredibly good, he couldn't help wondering what else the Russian could to do him. Alex felt a little dizzy at the thought.
"I need to ask something of you," the young spy whispered conspiratorially and curled his index finger, beckoning Yassen to come closer.
The Russian hesitated, quirking an eyebrow sceptically and giving Alex a long, assessing look.
"But nobody can hear," he added, not quite able to hide the nervous smile anymore. Finally, the assassin leaned in enough for Alex to reach his ear. He could smell the familiar scent and closed his eyes, relishing the sensation before pressing his lips against the soft skin.
"I want you to fuck me, Yassen."
Please let me know what you think! ^.^
(and of course, if you want to read the second part *nyahaha*)
PS: Oh and yeah... as of now this is a PWP. (the second part doesn't change that much about it XD) But I've already written a pretty long second drabble to this that focuses on story line and right now I'm writing the third part. ^^ So this is kinda the beginning of it all...)