Call Me Sir [The Comedian/John McCain]
May. 18th, 2009 04:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hysteriaTitle: Call Me Sir
Author:hysteria
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: John McCain/The Comedian
Word Count: 1,804
Warnings: Political RPF, sort of? Rimming, light bondage, un-beta'd
Summary:The Comedian wasn't exactly the hero type.
He’d heard the screams, deep bellowing screams of his Vietnamese captors. He knew of Nixon’s plans to send in the “masked vigilantes” to offset the balance in the war. He never though one of their assignments would be to rescue a few POW’s shot down up North. He was a conservative man, he believed that the American people should rely on legit military assets rather than outsourcing to those masked freaks. But you’d never hear him argue, not after he saw the man who’d sliced up his arm lit up by flame thrower. When the door kicked in he expected something along the lines of ‘are you alright?’ or ‘where are the rest of the men?’ not the deep laugh and crude remark he was given when he hadn‘t moved from the bed, “They fuck you so good you don’t wanna leave?”
“No, Sir.” he hadn’t meant the ‘Sir’ to follow, it was more of just a habit.
“Sir, huh?” the man laughed again and tossed his cigar on the crisp body that used to be the leader of his captors, “I think I like that. No wonder that Vietcong kept you locked up here all to himself.”
He couldn’t manage to looked him in the eye, his gaze fixated on the smiley face pin attached to what could hardly pass for decent armor. “I’m not sure where the others are.” he choked off before moving to the edge of the cot.
“I didn’t ask you that, boy.” he stalked over to the edge of the cot, placing his heavy boot between John’s dirty feet his discomfort evident. “Your forgot the ‘Sir’, boy.” He didn’t move to answer and his would be rescuer placed a hand on his shoulder. He was shoved back onto the cot at an awkward angle his neck craned to the side to avoid hitting the small table beside it, “Why ain’t you cuffed?” he gripped on of his wrists, “you a commie now?”
“No, Sir.”
Blake smirked, “That’s better.” he grabbed his other hand and pushed them both under his back. “Keep ‘em there, understand?” John nodded slightly, as his lips parted slightly. That earned him another laugh “You gettin’ off on this already?” he pulled roughly at what was left of John’s BDUs, “Boy, we got a long way to go before you’re allowed to get off.” Blake rised up and looked down at the smaller man, “Ya know what? Get up, this ain’t working for me.”
John got up almost simultaneously with Blake’s orders and stood before him, almost half a foot shorter. Blake pulled him up against me and rubbed against the crease of his ass, “I want you to use that rope over there to tie your hands together,” he waited for the reciprocal nod before continuing “ then I want you to bend over, and put your hands on the edge of that table.” he licked his lips when he heard the boys breath hitch when one of his fingers pushed as his hole. “An’ I’m going to lick you open for me. Because I ain’t no little Asian man. You’re going to need a lot of work if you’re going to take me.” He removed his hands from John and looked down at his face, “you like that idea? I mean you do owe me after all, seein’ as I coulda just left you here for crispy over there.” he pointed over to the dead man on the floor.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Yes sir what, boy?”
“I like that idea, sir.”
“Damn right you do.” the smiled never left his face as he watched him follow the orders so easily.
“You learn to tie rope on some weekend cartoon, boy?” Blake moved over in front of him and grabbed the rope, “I didn’t tell you to half-ass it, when I ask you to do somethin’ I expect it done right.” he pulled the knot tight and pushed his hands away, motioning for him to move.
“Can I undress, sir?” John mumbled as he placed his hands onto the top side of the table.
“Nah, leave what you got on, on.” he grinning, “Like a girl leavin’ her heels on. You’re gonna be my girl for the night.” he moved to place his calloused hand on the boys narrow hips forcing him to move backward until he was effectively holding onto the table with the ends of his fingers.
“Now what did I say I was gonna do next?” Blake let his eyes drift down to the boys shaking back, before moving his gloved palm over the soft skin. “I ain‘t talkin‘ to myself here, boy.” bring his hand down hard against his backside causing John to cry out.
“Y-ya said you we’re going to lick me open, sir.” inhaling deep through his nose while the pinks of nails turned white.
Blake took a knee and spread John’s ass roughly, “Fuck you look tight,” his idea was confirmed when he pressed the tip of his thumb into his opening and was met with a warm vice, “you mean to tell me he had you strung up here all this time and didn’t touch you?”
John’s chapped lips parted instantaneously with the new intrusion, “No, sir!”
“Well damn, I’m really gonna have to work you open then.” Blake leaned down and ran his tongue down the cleft of his ass until it reached his hole, running it lightly across the outside before dipping in.
“f-fuck, sir--” John gasped as Blake continued opening him up to his tongue.
He let one of his hands slide down and pushed his index finger back inside of the boy, alongside his tongue. Alternating between licking and sucking at the edges of his clenching hole. One finger became two almost instantly and as if on cue he began pushing his hips back against his fingers, fucking himself deeper until he felt the third finger start to penetrate him, “S’too much--” he gasped again, “too much sir.”
Blake refused to let up, tonguing where the third finger was pressing before pulling back, “Trust me, it ain’t too much yet. Sides’ you’re opening up real nice ‘n wet, just like a girl.”
“M’not a girl,” Blake’s warm leather clad hand wasn’t exactly a shock when he felt the sharp impact, “Sir…m’not a girl, sir.”
The grin must’ve been emanating because John shook beneath him as soon as it spread across his features, “Think yer ready now, boy?” he moved his three fingers roughly in and out, occasionally spreading and flexing them.
“Yes, sir.” his voice didn’t falter as his hips moved along with Blake’s fingers.
“Gotta agree with you there, you definitely feel ready.” he stood and began unclasping his body armor and under clothing. “Too many fuckin’ layers.” he mumbled as he freed his straining cock. He gave it a few pumps before lining himself up, “fuck you’re still going to be tight as hell.”
He buried himself to the hilt in one stroke, his hand leaving deep finger-shaped bruises on the smaller mans hips, he could feel him trembling beneath him, could see him struggling for purchase on that piece of shit desk in front of them. “You’re even tighter than I expected.” Blake grated out making a circular motion with his hips to draw out a reaction. “Not too much now, is it boy?”
“No,” John swallowed a dry moan, “no sir.”
Blake let his hands slide up the warm flesh until the reached his shoulders, “Good.” and he roughly pulled back out and slammed home before John could protest. His steady rhythm was accompanied by low grunts coming from the man beneath him, stifled moans or noises of pain didn’t really matter; he wasn’t exactly screaming ‘no’.
He moved his one of his hands to fist in what used to be a tight crop top, months in a POW camp had changed into a shaggy pile of hair; he gripped it roughly forcing the boy to crane his head up while Blake continued to pound into him. “Fuck your ass feels all warm and wet just like a cunt too.” he groaned as he moved his other hand to the boy’s hips pulling him off the table.
Keeping his chest flush with John’s back he grinned into the other mans neck as he felt the boy push himself down onto his cock in time with his thrusts. He reached his arm around and wrapped his hand around John’s cock, “You think you deserve to come yet?”
“Please sir, I need--”
Blake pulled out almost completely before shoving deep back in electing a deep moan from the blonde, “Didn’t ask what you needed boy, only what you think you deserve.”
John wiggled his hips trying to get friction with Blake’s unmoving hand before answering, “I only get to get off when you do, sir.”
Blake flashed his teeth before nuzzling into his neck, “That’s right--” he inhaled deep and he picked up the pace of his thrust, “and fuck-- I’m about ready to.” he allowed his hand to start sliding up and down the boys aching hard-on while he continued to thrust up into him. Blake cried out loudly as he came still buried inside of John fingers gripping the other mans cock and waist, he gave a few more light pumps before John came all over the table and Blake’s hand.
He laughed out loud before pulling out and leaving the younger man to lean against the table, “Damn, that was pretty good for your first time, boy.”
John remained hunched over by the table, catching his breath; “Where do we go now, sir?” John asked, still panting from his release.
Blake raised an eyebrow, the smile disappearing from his features, “The fuck do you mean we? I don’t care what you do, I’ve still got business up North.”
His brow furrowed and he stole a glimpse back at the older man, “Then why--why’d you come to the POW camp?”
Blake shrugged as he tidied himself up, “It was on the way, and I was getting damn bored. Fuckin’ commie cowards were hiding, though I’d get my own action.”
He still didn’t move from where Blake had let him drop, still trying to understand what Blake was saying; “Look you can grab a couple guns and shit from those Vietcong I lit up outside, and make your way South to a camp, ‘cause you sure as fuck ain’t my problem.”
He didn’t give John time to reply as he made his way to his discarded flame thrower and walked back out the same door he’d come in through. John didn’t move to stop him though, because even though he’d saved him he wouldn’t have doubted that Blake would turn the weapon on him; he was The Comedian after all.
Author:
hysteriaRating: NC-17
Pairing: John McCain/The Comedian
Word Count: 1,804
Warnings: Political RPF, sort of? Rimming, light bondage, un-beta'd
Summary:The Comedian wasn't exactly the hero type.
He’d heard the screams, deep bellowing screams of his Vietnamese captors. He knew of Nixon’s plans to send in the “masked vigilantes” to offset the balance in the war. He never though one of their assignments would be to rescue a few POW’s shot down up North. He was a conservative man, he believed that the American people should rely on legit military assets rather than outsourcing to those masked freaks. But you’d never hear him argue, not after he saw the man who’d sliced up his arm lit up by flame thrower. When the door kicked in he expected something along the lines of ‘are you alright?’ or ‘where are the rest of the men?’ not the deep laugh and crude remark he was given when he hadn‘t moved from the bed, “They fuck you so good you don’t wanna leave?”
“No, Sir.” he hadn’t meant the ‘Sir’ to follow, it was more of just a habit.
“Sir, huh?” the man laughed again and tossed his cigar on the crisp body that used to be the leader of his captors, “I think I like that. No wonder that Vietcong kept you locked up here all to himself.”
He couldn’t manage to looked him in the eye, his gaze fixated on the smiley face pin attached to what could hardly pass for decent armor. “I’m not sure where the others are.” he choked off before moving to the edge of the cot.
“I didn’t ask you that, boy.” he stalked over to the edge of the cot, placing his heavy boot between John’s dirty feet his discomfort evident. “Your forgot the ‘Sir’, boy.” He didn’t move to answer and his would be rescuer placed a hand on his shoulder. He was shoved back onto the cot at an awkward angle his neck craned to the side to avoid hitting the small table beside it, “Why ain’t you cuffed?” he gripped on of his wrists, “you a commie now?”
“No, Sir.”
Blake smirked, “That’s better.” he grabbed his other hand and pushed them both under his back. “Keep ‘em there, understand?” John nodded slightly, as his lips parted slightly. That earned him another laugh “You gettin’ off on this already?” he pulled roughly at what was left of John’s BDUs, “Boy, we got a long way to go before you’re allowed to get off.” Blake rised up and looked down at the smaller man, “Ya know what? Get up, this ain’t working for me.”
John got up almost simultaneously with Blake’s orders and stood before him, almost half a foot shorter. Blake pulled him up against me and rubbed against the crease of his ass, “I want you to use that rope over there to tie your hands together,” he waited for the reciprocal nod before continuing “ then I want you to bend over, and put your hands on the edge of that table.” he licked his lips when he heard the boys breath hitch when one of his fingers pushed as his hole. “An’ I’m going to lick you open for me. Because I ain’t no little Asian man. You’re going to need a lot of work if you’re going to take me.” He removed his hands from John and looked down at his face, “you like that idea? I mean you do owe me after all, seein’ as I coulda just left you here for crispy over there.” he pointed over to the dead man on the floor.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Yes sir what, boy?”
“I like that idea, sir.”
“Damn right you do.” the smiled never left his face as he watched him follow the orders so easily.
“You learn to tie rope on some weekend cartoon, boy?” Blake moved over in front of him and grabbed the rope, “I didn’t tell you to half-ass it, when I ask you to do somethin’ I expect it done right.” he pulled the knot tight and pushed his hands away, motioning for him to move.
“Can I undress, sir?” John mumbled as he placed his hands onto the top side of the table.
“Nah, leave what you got on, on.” he grinning, “Like a girl leavin’ her heels on. You’re gonna be my girl for the night.” he moved to place his calloused hand on the boys narrow hips forcing him to move backward until he was effectively holding onto the table with the ends of his fingers.
“Now what did I say I was gonna do next?” Blake let his eyes drift down to the boys shaking back, before moving his gloved palm over the soft skin. “I ain‘t talkin‘ to myself here, boy.” bring his hand down hard against his backside causing John to cry out.
“Y-ya said you we’re going to lick me open, sir.” inhaling deep through his nose while the pinks of nails turned white.
Blake took a knee and spread John’s ass roughly, “Fuck you look tight,” his idea was confirmed when he pressed the tip of his thumb into his opening and was met with a warm vice, “you mean to tell me he had you strung up here all this time and didn’t touch you?”
John’s chapped lips parted instantaneously with the new intrusion, “No, sir!”
“Well damn, I’m really gonna have to work you open then.” Blake leaned down and ran his tongue down the cleft of his ass until it reached his hole, running it lightly across the outside before dipping in.
“f-fuck, sir--” John gasped as Blake continued opening him up to his tongue.
He let one of his hands slide down and pushed his index finger back inside of the boy, alongside his tongue. Alternating between licking and sucking at the edges of his clenching hole. One finger became two almost instantly and as if on cue he began pushing his hips back against his fingers, fucking himself deeper until he felt the third finger start to penetrate him, “S’too much--” he gasped again, “too much sir.”
Blake refused to let up, tonguing where the third finger was pressing before pulling back, “Trust me, it ain’t too much yet. Sides’ you’re opening up real nice ‘n wet, just like a girl.”
“M’not a girl,” Blake’s warm leather clad hand wasn’t exactly a shock when he felt the sharp impact, “Sir…m’not a girl, sir.”
The grin must’ve been emanating because John shook beneath him as soon as it spread across his features, “Think yer ready now, boy?” he moved his three fingers roughly in and out, occasionally spreading and flexing them.
“Yes, sir.” his voice didn’t falter as his hips moved along with Blake’s fingers.
“Gotta agree with you there, you definitely feel ready.” he stood and began unclasping his body armor and under clothing. “Too many fuckin’ layers.” he mumbled as he freed his straining cock. He gave it a few pumps before lining himself up, “fuck you’re still going to be tight as hell.”
He buried himself to the hilt in one stroke, his hand leaving deep finger-shaped bruises on the smaller mans hips, he could feel him trembling beneath him, could see him struggling for purchase on that piece of shit desk in front of them. “You’re even tighter than I expected.” Blake grated out making a circular motion with his hips to draw out a reaction. “Not too much now, is it boy?”
“No,” John swallowed a dry moan, “no sir.”
Blake let his hands slide up the warm flesh until the reached his shoulders, “Good.” and he roughly pulled back out and slammed home before John could protest. His steady rhythm was accompanied by low grunts coming from the man beneath him, stifled moans or noises of pain didn’t really matter; he wasn’t exactly screaming ‘no’.
He moved his one of his hands to fist in what used to be a tight crop top, months in a POW camp had changed into a shaggy pile of hair; he gripped it roughly forcing the boy to crane his head up while Blake continued to pound into him. “Fuck your ass feels all warm and wet just like a cunt too.” he groaned as he moved his other hand to the boy’s hips pulling him off the table.
Keeping his chest flush with John’s back he grinned into the other mans neck as he felt the boy push himself down onto his cock in time with his thrusts. He reached his arm around and wrapped his hand around John’s cock, “You think you deserve to come yet?”
“Please sir, I need--”
Blake pulled out almost completely before shoving deep back in electing a deep moan from the blonde, “Didn’t ask what you needed boy, only what you think you deserve.”
John wiggled his hips trying to get friction with Blake’s unmoving hand before answering, “I only get to get off when you do, sir.”
Blake flashed his teeth before nuzzling into his neck, “That’s right--” he inhaled deep and he picked up the pace of his thrust, “and fuck-- I’m about ready to.” he allowed his hand to start sliding up and down the boys aching hard-on while he continued to thrust up into him. Blake cried out loudly as he came still buried inside of John fingers gripping the other mans cock and waist, he gave a few more light pumps before John came all over the table and Blake’s hand.
He laughed out loud before pulling out and leaving the younger man to lean against the table, “Damn, that was pretty good for your first time, boy.”
John remained hunched over by the table, catching his breath; “Where do we go now, sir?” John asked, still panting from his release.
Blake raised an eyebrow, the smile disappearing from his features, “The fuck do you mean we? I don’t care what you do, I’ve still got business up North.”
His brow furrowed and he stole a glimpse back at the older man, “Then why--why’d you come to the POW camp?”
Blake shrugged as he tidied himself up, “It was on the way, and I was getting damn bored. Fuckin’ commie cowards were hiding, though I’d get my own action.”
He still didn’t move from where Blake had let him drop, still trying to understand what Blake was saying; “Look you can grab a couple guns and shit from those Vietcong I lit up outside, and make your way South to a camp, ‘cause you sure as fuck ain’t my problem.”
He didn’t give John time to reply as he made his way to his discarded flame thrower and walked back out the same door he’d come in through. John didn’t move to stop him though, because even though he’d saved him he wouldn’t have doubted that Blake would turn the weapon on him; he was The Comedian after all.
