Composure

Title: Composure
Prompt: schmoop prompt neck kisses
Medium: fic
Rating: R
Warnings: slash Carlos/Zhane (he stole him back :-S)
Summary: In the oddest way Carlos discovers Zhane is ticklish, harassment ensues
Note: Not super explicit, more sensual than anything, my first fic. like this.

Carlos learned the most interesting thing to date about his boyfriend, Zhane, was ticklish.

This enlightening discovery was made while leaning over said shoulder to read, thus brushing his hair against Zhane’s neck.

He found himself promptly shoved away.

“What did I do?” Shocked and mildly dismayed Carlos tried to not to fall on his ass from the force.

“You hair tickles me.” Only just turning away from his book to address Carlos.

“It’s just a little long.” Touching the strands on his neck length mane.

Curiosity getting the best of him, Carlos reaches out and pokes Zhane square in the nape of the neck. Only then to see him jump, from the action.

“Stop that!” is followed quickly by a smack in the head. “Ouch, you don’t love me anymore, do you?”

“Of course I do, but that doesn’t mean you can keep tickling me, ‘cause you want to” As he attempts to cover the offended area.

With a shake of his head, “Your way too sensitive.” Carlos leaves it at that. But he had a new mission, screwing with Zhane’s head and fucking with his composure.

Zhane never one to feel abashed by anything, least of all pda, found himself on the receiving end of Carlos' relentless attacks.

Carlos had taking to whispering a dirty joke here, a hot glance there. Innocent touches didn’t exist anywhere. He was the king of molest and run. Zhane’s neck being a prime target, he still had a hickey from last time he lost it and found himself pressed fast, against his doorjamb locked in a stand up make out session.

Zhane found himself more and more frazzled as Carlos could come from anywhere, damn Andros for teaching him to be stealthy. “I’ve had it, I want to see how he likes it, turn the tables on him.”

With that in mind and the others having plans for the evening, Zhane smiled feeling pretty self-assured.

Dinner and movie throw in a little sexual harassment and huzzah he won. At least that had been the plan, how it fell apart he would never know, but it did. Dammit!.

Dinner went great he had the offensive. For every dirty comment, he had a comeback. The movie went even better because. Carlos’ neck was very reminiscent of his own. Not to mention bucket style movie seats are great, Yay for darkness and blow jobs.

And yet somewhere in between the theater and teleporting back to the Mega-ship he’d lost his edge. The sole intent was payback and yet not quite.

Moving towards his room, Zhane finds himself pressed fast against the bay door. Looking up he sees nothing present in Carlos eyes but pure heat. Carlos leans down and kisses him breathless. Zhane loops around said shoulders…yeah he lost it.

“Had fun?” Smiling Carlos pulls back and yet was still so very close. His hands run up and down his back, edging ever so slowly lower and closer to Zhane’s fly.

“Fun?”

“Yes, fun that little stunt you pulled in the theater ten minutes ago.”

“Stunt”

“Yes, stunt, you on your knees, me in your mouth, and I can’t say shit.”

Whispered with much authority, it was hard to doubt his words. “You know what they say payback is a bitch, but honesty Zhane it’s the interest that’s a motherfucker.”

Zhane could only tremble at the closeness as Carlos ghosted a hand above his zipper.

“And just so you know, I intend to collect in full.” All the while Carlos’ hand had done much to drive Zhane over, touching but not really, lips grazing but not kissing, hips grinding but only just.

Zhane not being one for inaction quickly lost patience with, what could only be considered half-fucking, made his impatience known.

“Quit the bullshit, I want you, NOW!” Strong hands grabbed onto his broad shoulders and yanked Carlos forward into a passion filled kiss.

Carlos found himself pressed seamlessly against Zhane obvious the situation had gotten to both of them, with his evident erection.

Carlos taking momentum back, drags his lips away from Zhane's mouth and kisses a trail down to his neck and shoulder.

“Better?” He mumbles.

“Enjoying yourself?”A breathy gasp is all he’s given.

Taking his time he trails kisses back to his earlobe and across his other shoulder blade only to go back upwards again.

Feeling all the while Zhane shudders constantly beneath him, this successively is followed by light sighs, then deeper moans.

Serious pressure being used, almost determined to leave a hickey on his neck. Carlos bites down on the section where neck dips to meet said tempting shoulder. Zhane in an effort to release pressure can only grasp tightly at the dark silky strands caressing his lovers own neck.

Pulling Zhane’s hands down, almost to say let go, Carlos deters from his goal and kisses him hard on the mouth at the same time shoving Zhane back against the wall. It’s nothing but tangle of tongue, teeth and saliva.

“What do you want me to do” Breathing hard but determined, Zhane manages to gasp out.

“Flat surface and you."

Dragging him forward even closer, he grinds against Carlos in the most obscene of fashions, “can’t you tell I…” He’s cut off by a very decisive “Your room or mine?”

“Yours, closer” Zhane, pressing forward leans against Carlos’ chest, hands skimming skin, tracing scars, only to be kissed again.

No time is wasted hands fumble as they hastily strip clothing, drop pieces, here, there everywhere, as they stumble to and through Carlos’ bedroom door.

The need to kiss, touch and feel bare skin, overriding any sense of propriety.
The need to be closer, the sheer want of another person consuming both of them, bodies hit the mattress more kissing more touching, more everything a silent but indicative command to make the both feel complete.

And like always, their world was suspended for just a moment before it all goes white, wave after wave sensation rush to the surface and spill out with a strangled gasp of ecstasy as they both come.

And all this because Zhane was ticklish on the neck.

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