FIC - Fingerpainting (Heroes)
Jun. 8th, 2007 12:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ashinaeFrom my self-challenge here.
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
veraxia - Mohinder/Isaac? (As for kink... hmmm... something with paint and that symbol thingy?)
Fingerpainting
byashinae
Pairing: Mohinder/Isaac
Rating/Warnings: Hard R. AU, of course.
Spoilers: Not a one.
Disclaimer: Written for fun, not profit. Will return the boys in one piece.
Summary: ...as his paint-covered fingers move across Mohinder's back, in a vague ess-shape, Mohinder just squirms...
Note: Thanks tocaras_galadhon for speedy-quick beta.
Word count: ~675
Fingerpainting
Mohinder is barefoot and naked to the waist. His feet keep kicking on the bed, impatient, restless -- or maybe it's that Isaac's touch is so light and he's more ticklish than he'll let on.
"Hold still," Isaac murmurs, again, trying not to laugh as Mohinder huffs out a breath. And as his paint-covered fingers move across Mohinder's back, in a vague ess-shape, Mohinder just squirms and Isaac does laugh.
"You're ticklish," he says, finally straddling Mohinder's waist instead of kneeling next to him.
"I most certainly am not," Mohinder says, indignant.
"You are." Isaac's fingers finish at the small of Mohinder's back. He reaches out to the palette again, dragging his fingers through the wet paint, and draws three lines of varying length across Mohinder's back.
"You're definitely ticklish," he announces, because Mohinder won't lie still and his fingers end up down on Mohinder's side. But he sounds amused, and leans forward, nuzzling through Mohinder's hair, finding his ear.
"You'll get paint on your shirt," Mohinder murmurs.
That's easily rectified.
Of course, when he leans down again, Mohinder says, "You'll get paint on yourself." As if that's something that Isaac isn't used to.
Still, he staves off any further protests by slipping down, tugging off Mohinder's jeans, tossing them off the edge of the bed. He urges Mohinder to get onto his knees, spreading them wide with a gentle push of his hands. There's dark paint on Mohinder's thigh now, but whatever protest there might have been dies when Isaac drags his tongue along the crease between buttock and thigh. He can hear the way Mohinder sucks in a breath. He goes very still. "Isaac..."
Isaac hushes him, gently, and nips at the back of Mohinder's thigh before he spreads the man open and his tongue darts out. The first few licks are tentative, questioning, permission-seeking; when Mohinder doesn't so much as breathe, Isaac just takes that as the go-ahead he needs to be bold. Bolder.
"Isaac!" Mohinder's voice is deep, choked, and Isaac can feel him trembling. He hushes him again, then pushes his tongue inside, feeling a deep sense of prideful satisfaction when Mohinder moans. The sounds he makes are downright sinful as Isaac moves his tongue over and over that puckered hole.
"Touch yourself," he says, before pushing his tongue inside again. Mohinder moans, and a moment later, Isaac's hand covers his, moving over his cock. Mohinder pushes his hips back with another sinful noise, and then a gasp.
When Isaac tells Mohinder to come, it doesn't take long for him to give in to that either. Then he sprawls out next to Mohinder, who says, "You certainly look self-satisfied."
Isaac grins, one arm tucked behind his head, then leans up when Mohinder slides down the bed, opening Isaac's pants. His dark head lowers, and then his mouth is on Isaac's cock -- wet lips sliding over his length, tongue darting across the head, then swallowing him down. Isaac's hips come off the bed, and Mohinder resolutely pushes him back down. All Isaac can do is push himself up on his elbows and watch.
"God," he gasps, falling back when Mohinder lifts his head and licks his lips. He shouldn't be allowed to do that, but he always does. "Tease," he says, accusing, and the fingers of his clean hand slide through Mohinder's curls.
That causes a throaty chuckle, and then Mohinder's mouth is on his cock again. Isaac closes his eyes, breathing through his mouth, and it's just utterly glorious, rising to a peak until he crashes over the edge with a choked-back cry.
*
The symbol keeps cropping up everywhere, in Isaac's sketches, in the comics, in his paintings. Though he isn't sure what it means, he's more than used to it. He simply never anticipates flipping through his sketchbook while Mohinder lies asleep, and there he is on a page -- all lean lines and dark hair, in Isaac's own bed, with the symbol drawn across his back -- more than slightly askew, mind, but there it is.
For
veraxia - Mohinder/Isaac? (As for kink... hmmm... something with paint and that symbol thingy?)Fingerpainting
by
ashinaePairing: Mohinder/Isaac
Rating/Warnings: Hard R. AU, of course.
Spoilers: Not a one.
Disclaimer: Written for fun, not profit. Will return the boys in one piece.
Summary: ...as his paint-covered fingers move across Mohinder's back, in a vague ess-shape, Mohinder just squirms...
Note: Thanks to
caras_galadhon for speedy-quick beta.Word count: ~675
Mohinder is barefoot and naked to the waist. His feet keep kicking on the bed, impatient, restless -- or maybe it's that Isaac's touch is so light and he's more ticklish than he'll let on.
"Hold still," Isaac murmurs, again, trying not to laugh as Mohinder huffs out a breath. And as his paint-covered fingers move across Mohinder's back, in a vague ess-shape, Mohinder just squirms and Isaac does laugh.
"You're ticklish," he says, finally straddling Mohinder's waist instead of kneeling next to him.
"I most certainly am not," Mohinder says, indignant.
"You are." Isaac's fingers finish at the small of Mohinder's back. He reaches out to the palette again, dragging his fingers through the wet paint, and draws three lines of varying length across Mohinder's back.
"You're definitely ticklish," he announces, because Mohinder won't lie still and his fingers end up down on Mohinder's side. But he sounds amused, and leans forward, nuzzling through Mohinder's hair, finding his ear.
"You'll get paint on your shirt," Mohinder murmurs.
That's easily rectified.
Of course, when he leans down again, Mohinder says, "You'll get paint on yourself." As if that's something that Isaac isn't used to.
Still, he staves off any further protests by slipping down, tugging off Mohinder's jeans, tossing them off the edge of the bed. He urges Mohinder to get onto his knees, spreading them wide with a gentle push of his hands. There's dark paint on Mohinder's thigh now, but whatever protest there might have been dies when Isaac drags his tongue along the crease between buttock and thigh. He can hear the way Mohinder sucks in a breath. He goes very still. "Isaac..."
Isaac hushes him, gently, and nips at the back of Mohinder's thigh before he spreads the man open and his tongue darts out. The first few licks are tentative, questioning, permission-seeking; when Mohinder doesn't so much as breathe, Isaac just takes that as the go-ahead he needs to be bold. Bolder.
"Isaac!" Mohinder's voice is deep, choked, and Isaac can feel him trembling. He hushes him again, then pushes his tongue inside, feeling a deep sense of prideful satisfaction when Mohinder moans. The sounds he makes are downright sinful as Isaac moves his tongue over and over that puckered hole.
"Touch yourself," he says, before pushing his tongue inside again. Mohinder moans, and a moment later, Isaac's hand covers his, moving over his cock. Mohinder pushes his hips back with another sinful noise, and then a gasp.
When Isaac tells Mohinder to come, it doesn't take long for him to give in to that either. Then he sprawls out next to Mohinder, who says, "You certainly look self-satisfied."
Isaac grins, one arm tucked behind his head, then leans up when Mohinder slides down the bed, opening Isaac's pants. His dark head lowers, and then his mouth is on Isaac's cock -- wet lips sliding over his length, tongue darting across the head, then swallowing him down. Isaac's hips come off the bed, and Mohinder resolutely pushes him back down. All Isaac can do is push himself up on his elbows and watch.
"God," he gasps, falling back when Mohinder lifts his head and licks his lips. He shouldn't be allowed to do that, but he always does. "Tease," he says, accusing, and the fingers of his clean hand slide through Mohinder's curls.
That causes a throaty chuckle, and then Mohinder's mouth is on his cock again. Isaac closes his eyes, breathing through his mouth, and it's just utterly glorious, rising to a peak until he crashes over the edge with a choked-back cry.
The symbol keeps cropping up everywhere, in Isaac's sketches, in the comics, in his paintings. Though he isn't sure what it means, he's more than used to it. He simply never anticipates flipping through his sketchbook while Mohinder lies asleep, and there he is on a page -- all lean lines and dark hair, in Isaac's own bed, with the symbol drawn across his back -- more than slightly askew, mind, but there it is.
