The Burn
Chapter Seven
"Are we ever going to talk about the fact that the Bowmen lied about us being contagious?" Ilya whispered to Ben as they entered the front office of the motel.
"No. I mean, that probably wasn't the only thing they lied about..." Ben offered unhelpfully. He shrugged, "I don't know why they assumed they could fool you."
"I don't know, either. Watching them run around in hazmat suits was pretty amusing, though."
"Go Girl looked especially ridiculous."
"They don't make suits to fit tiny little blonde girls," Ilya said, grinning. Ben smiled back --
They were interrupted by a girl in giant furry boots and an oversized sweater. "Excuse me -- are you Benjamin?" She asked, looking pointedly at Ben.
"I am!"
"We have...a call for you? On the desk phone." She seemed perplexed by this, even as she explained it. She was just a teenager -- petite with dark eyes and even darker hair -- and she was obviously hesitant to deal with the gigantic man that had entered her workplace. She led Ben to the phone and mumbled, "We don't usually get calls for people up here. I mean, for people who aren't guests. If it's out of town, it's going to cost us..."
"Don't worry, sweetheart," Ben replied, "I'll take care of it. I promise you won't get into trouble." He rounded around the desk and picked up the receiver. He spoke quickly and in hushed tones.
The girl looked from him to Ilya, and blinked. She stepped forward and smiled slowly, and Ilya gave her an awkward wave, as if the gesture would stop her approach. It didn't, though, and she stood in front of him, shuffling sweetly. "You're not from around here."
"Oh?" Ilya squeaked, and she laughed.
"Not very many gingers in these parts."
"O-oh."
She offered her hand. "I'm Ahnah Kanayurak."
"Um." Ilya looked at her hand, and slowly put his out, and shook. "I'm --" Ilya Tomlin, that terrorist everyone's been looking for. "I...n. Ian. Tom...as. Ian Tomas."
"You sure about that?" She quirked an eyebrow.
"Not really."
She laughed, a twinkling noise, and Ilya smiled. "My fake name is Isabel Lanapuk. If I ever run off... That'll be my name."
"Pretty."
"Thanks!" She was edging closer and Ilya was absolutely baffled. Was this girl really expressing interest in him? Was it that he was white in an area mainly Inuit? Ben blended in just fine -- but him, with firecracker hair -- he was a sore, interesting thumb. He'd gone twenty years with only one person advancing on him sexually -- and now, in the span of one week, it had happened twice.
While Ilya struggled with something to say, Ben approached again.
"Alright. That was our ride. They're going to be here tomorrow," He said.
"Oh. Okay..." Ilya looked at him, brow furrowed. What did that mean?
Ben turned to Ahnah. "Could we get a room?"
She blinked. "Just one? Sure." Her eyes flitted from Ilya to Ben and back again. "How many beds?"
Ilya thought he might pass out from the sudden rush of blood to his head. Bright red, he snapped, "Two!" Before Ben could say anything. "Two beds."
"Is there a place around here we can pick up some new threads? My stuff doesn't fit him very well and this genius left his bag on the bus a day ago." He lied so smoothly that Ilya was startled by it -- if he hadn't actually witnessed the last few days, he would have easily believed Ben's lie.
Ahnah obviously bought it, too. "Sure, there's a second-hand store right on that corner. You see it through the window? They're only open until seven, though..." She glanced to the clock. Twenty minutes.
"We'll grab our keys when we get back. Come on," Ben motioned for Ilya to follow as he started out the doors.
"I'll be here!" Ahnah said.
When they exited the office, Ben started laughing, and Ilya slugged him in the arm, growling with irritation.
-----
Bicycle shorts, long johns, soft blue denim jeans, wool socks, Timberland boots, a sweater, a scarf, sunglasses, a knitted cap, and ear muffs.
Ilya walked through the store, his new outfit bundled in his arms. He looked over the tops of the racks to try to spot Ben. He found him in the toys, debating between two decks of playing cards. Ilya watched at him struggle with the choice for a minute before saying:
"Just get them both."
Ben looked up, blinked, and smiled. "What a simple solution. I mean, I love Beyblades, and a Beyblade deck of cards is really cool, but I also really like the Disney Princesses, and the Princesses cards are such pretty colors."
Ilya pursed his lips impatiently. "They're closing in like, five minutes."
"Yeah, yeah." Ben stood up to his full height and dropped the cards into the shopping basket at his side. "I found this jacket for you." He lifted it up -- it was very soft faux-leather, brown, and had an attached hood lined with wool. Ilya glanced at the label and made a face.
"This is a woman's jacket."
"That just means it'll fit you."
Ilya grumbled, but conceded. The Bowmen jacket he had would fit Ben much better anyhow -- it's slick, sharp lines were built to be worn on a body as tall and muscular as a mask.
When they approached the clerk at the cash register, Ilya noticed the man's disgruntled look. It was clear he rarely had to close up shop so late. The sour look he had seemed to dissipate the moment he started tallying the purchases. They were well over a hundred bucks at the end. Right before he gave the pair their total, Ben said, "Wait!" He snatched some gloves off the shelf nearby. "These too."
"That's $122.80." Ben beamed at Ilya as they paid and Ilya felt his stomach flip-flop nervously.
And now for a night alone with the guy he dry-humped in the back of a truck. Ilya wondered if that backpack had a side pocket full of condoms and lube, and went bright red at the turn his thoughts had taken. God, he was like a teenager again.
-------
Ilya’s earlier thoughts were obviously unfounded.
Ben was sound asleep on his own separate bed, a queen-sized pile of green blankets and pillows. He hadn’t made a sound or a movement since they returned around 7:30 and he crashed. In the last two hours Ilya had showered, changed into his new clothes, read the entirety of the magazine left under the bed, hand-washed his linen pants (blushing the whole time), and was now staring at the muted television on his own oversized bed, knees pulled up beneath his chin.
He had imagined a lot of things from the second Benry requested a room -- making out against the door, frotting on the bed, fucking in the shower, fucking again on the sink, fellatio on the dresser. Ben could regenerate; Ilya had wondered if he would fuck him again and again and again until he begged him to stop. He wondered if Benry had done that before, with someone else, and felt a flare of combined jealousy and fear of inadequacy.
He suddenly felt too warm in the small room, with the heater humming in front of the window. Ilya padded over, shut it off, and returned to his bed. Not long after, he fell asleep, a weight resting on his chest, made of disappointment, anxiety, self-hatred, and most of all, confusion.
------
“Fucking Christ, it’s fucking cold,” Benry groaned. Ilya’s eyelids flitted for a moment before he slowly opened them to reveal the darkness of the room they were in. The curtains were open, revealing the dark navy sky over the mountains. And Benry was right: it was freezing.
Shaking, Ilya curled up closer to himself. Groggy and literally sore from the cold, he couldn’t will himself to full consciousness. He heard the heater snap back to life as Ben fiddled with it. A moment later, a hand touched his forehead.
“You're cold...”
Ilya just squeezed his eyes more tightly shut.
“Why the hell aren’t you under your blankets?” Immediately the meta started fussing, pulling back the covers and tucking them around Ilya, who just shivered even harder at being forced to move out of his slightly warm spot. Ben stood straight and huffed, staring at him. “I’m gonna go shower.”
When the doctor didn’t respond, he walked away.
Ilya dozed again and woke later, when the bed dipped to one side. “You okay?” Ben asked. Big blue eyes opened slowly, taking in the pink streaks that appeared through the window. Dawn.
“Cold,” Ilya mumbled, pulling his hands against his chest and shuddering hard.
“Yeah, no shit. You turned off the heater, Mr. Genius.”
“Fuck you,” He managed, and Benry laughed. A second later, he slid under the covers too, and took Ilya’s hands in his own. He was so incredibly warm that Ilya immediately pushed close and pressed his nose into his collarbone. Their legs tangled easily.
“There you go, get comfy...” Ben said gently.
“You smell good,” Ilya said,” Like soap.”
“Well, I had a shower.”
“And like cigarettes...”
Ben sank a little, almost like he felt guilty. “Uh, yeah, I had one of those, too. I bought a pack from the convenience store.”
“That’s a bad habit.”
“I’ll be sure to talk to my doctor about it.”
Ilya smiled against his chest, the feeling of skin on skin warm and electric, humming like the heater on the other end of the room. He kissed the smooth plane without even thinking about it. It felt natural and compelling. Ben shivered a bit, so Ilya did it again. He sank a little lower and did it again. And again... Lower. He found himself following a trail of soft hair -- from Ben’s chest to his belly, and then lower. The line of hair disappeared beneath the waistband of his new used boxers. Ilya’s hands, warm now, slid from Ben’s stomach to his thighs, and he kissed his way to the hard length beneath the fabric.
His tongue lapped out and Ben called, hoarse, “Ilya --” and the sound of it shot straight to Ilya’s cock. It strained against his pants, sudden and marble hard. He rubbed lips along the length long and slow, from the bottom to the top, and closed his mouth around the head and sucked briefly. Benry jerked at that, hissing.
Ilya reached up with both hands and pulled the boxers down. He bit his lip -- it was dark beneath the blankets but he feel perfectly how large Ben’s cock was. As a doctor and metahuman specialist, he knew, scientifically speaking, that metahumans had a unique physiology that often included larger ears, hands, feet, and genitalia. As a scientist, it was expected.
As the guy pulling it into his mouth, it lit him up inside. He moaned as it pushed past his tongue, filling his mouth, and he found himself pressing his own cock against the mattress. Laying on their sides like they were, he couldn’t get leverage enough to apply enough pressure, and he let out a sound torn between a whine and a moan, hands squeezing the base of the dick between his lips.
“Fuck, Ilya,” Ben groaned. Ilya responded by circling his tongue around the head, pulling back and sliding down again. He couldn’t take him deeply enough, not like this. His hands slid from Ben’s erection to his thighs, and up to his hard sculpted stomach and his felt his own cock strain at how perfect he was; Benry was walking sex. Ilya pulled back on the dick and let out an open-mouthed moan against it, rolling his hips harder on the bed.
And very suddenly, the covers were pulled back, his hands were pulled off Ben’s stomach, and he was flat on his back, wrists pinned overhead, Ben straddled across his chest.
Ilya’s eyes dropped from his face and Benry growled, holding his wrists with one hand and using the other to grab at his short red hair. He pulled his head back, forcing his eyes up.
“I didn’t say you could stop looking at me,” He bit, and Ilya felt a hard jolt of electricity fill him inside. His mouth opened just a little, pupils dilated. “You like that?” Ben’s hand tightened in his hair and Ilya’s eyes fluttered with arousal. “Tell me.”
“I like your cock,” He breathed.
“That’s what I thought.” Ben dick was inches from Ilya’s mouth. “Do you want it?”
“Y--” His eyes watered, breathing heavy now, “Yes, please,” He managed to plead.
“You want me to come in your mouth? On your face?”
The thought of that alone was enough to send him way over the edge of rational thought. His mouth fell open, panting. “God y--" Ilya inhaled sharply, "Yes,” He moaned.
Benry obliged, pushing his cock forward, against Ilya’s mouth. The doctor parted his lips and Ben pushed it in, slowly. The meta let out a pleased, throaty sigh, one hand tangled in Ilya’s hair still, the other keeping his arms pinned above his head. Ilya’s eyes closed, but Benry growled and pulled his head back again.
“Keep your fucking eyes open. Look at me.”
Ilya obeyed, eyes opening, and watering immediately in pure embarrassment, pain, and incredible arousal. Benry’s eyes were that perfect gold-brown, lashes thick. He looked amused, his grin fanged, playful, and lethal. He pulled back from Ilya’s mouth, and forward again, and his tongue snaked out to lick his own lip. Ilya watched it and shuddered hard, even pinned like he was.
“Are you thinking about fucking my mouth, babe?” Ben asked, catching Ilya’s stare, “Thinking about how deep I could take your pretty pink cock?” He rolled his hips forward and back again, fucking Ilya’s mouth shallowly. “I’d be better than you are. You can’t take my whole dick, can you?”
He started fucking Ilya’s mouth faster, still shallow, stopping at the back of his tongue every time. “Can you?” Ilya managed a small shake of his head no, he couldn’t -- Ben’s dick was thick in the middle, curved and smooth, and wider at its largest diameter than Ilya’s throat could take. He knew. After a moment, eyes watering, a tear lined the corner of his lashes.
“Fuck,” Ben hissed, hips rolling faster now, “You’re so fucking pretty,” He said, eyes narrowing. He released his grip on Ilya’s hands and reached out to wipe another tear that slid from his lashes.
Ilya used the opportunity with his hands free to hold Ben’s cock, surface slick with saliva and pulsing. Ben groaned gratefully, eyes falling closed. Ilya felt a thrill of victory at getting him this far, and started sucking in time with his trusts. He moaned when Benry sped up, his own hips jerking involuntarily, desperate for touch.
“Yeah...” Ben sighed, head falling back, hips moving faster and erratically. After a moment, he pulled back, and slapped Ilya’s hands away. He started stroking himself hard and fast with one hand, the other holding Ilya’s head down and tilting it back. Ilya let out an open-mouthed whine. “What? You like this?” Ben growled, eyes fluttering.
Ilya felt the words bubble up in his chest and he said, voice quiet but even, “C-come...on my face. I want...you --”
“Yeah you fucking do.” Ben hunched forward, hand squeezing hard, hips still. He came, ribbons of cum across Ilya’s face. The doctor opened his mouth, and Ben rubbed the head of his dick against his soft pink lips, rolling his hips slowly as he rode out his orgasm, breathing hard and uneven. His eyes were dark and hooded, watching as Ilya kissed his dick gently and keened. “You’re fucking perfect,” He growled, “Perfect...”
He slid down, off of Ilya’s chest and grabbed several tissues from the box by the bed. He wiped Ilya's face gently, quietly, while Ilya continued to breath heavily, hands gripping the comforter. He had never been so hard in his life and the thought that he’d be denied orgasm was somehow even more arousing. He whined and Ben used a thumb to wipe some semen from his bottom lip.
“You want me to touch you?”
Ilya’s mouth opened, but he didn’t answer. Benry pressed a hand to the front of his long-johns and Ilya immediately pushed his hips up, to add more pressure. Ben pulled his hand away and the doctor let out a desperate, pleading cry.
“Ah, ah. Don’t move,” Ben ordered, pressing his palm back down. It took everything in Ilya to keep his hips still, and he gasped. “That’s right...” He stroked him up and down with the flat of his palm.
“Nn...” Ilya wouldn’t last long, not after everything. His eyes watered as he looked at Benry, “No, not in my p...”
Benry pulled his hand away, “No? No touching?”
“N-no please!” Ilya said, irrational at the loss of touch, “Please touch m --” Ben’s hand returned and he had no arguments this time, as the meta’s hand stroked him, adding more and more pressure, until Ilya was moaning with an open mouth, head thrown back, hips shaking but never moving off the bed. “Ben, I -- I’ll come --”
“Yeah? You’re going to come?”
Ilya’s fingers gripped the mattress, Ben’s hand moving agonizingly slow. Again, behind denied everything he wanted drove him absolutely insane. “I’m g --” He gasped, and then cried out as orgasm suddenly gripped him. Ben’s hand stopped moving altogether, just pressed against him, and Ilya screamed. At the end of it, Ben moved his hand again, gripping and moving his hand up and down in short, hard strokes that wrecked Ilya completely. He came still, short spurts continuing at the sudden, fast grip. He’d never come that hard -- though he’d been very close in the back of the truck.
Would sex with Benry always be like this? It was shattering; unreal; intense. Twice now he had been blinded by it; flashing white lights behind his eyelids.
“No more,” He managed to cry, “P-please --” And Benry slowly eased his hand off. He stared down at Ilya and took him in: his eyes and mouth were wet, he was panting and gripping the bed. He slowly opened blue eyes and found Ben smiling at him, the same happy, carefree look he always had. They remained there, Ben propped on an elbow, Ilya on his back, watching each other. Ben's smile was contagious and Ilya gave him a lazy, sated grin in return. “We never kissed,” Ben said softly, after a few minutes. Ilya blinked slowly, reached up, and pulled him down until their lips met.
------
When they picked up breakfast from the selection of stale bagels and cereal in the motel front office, Benry struck up a conversation with Ahnah. He had her smiling, and said he promised to tell her more about his trip to India eventually.
Ilya sipped his orange juice, standing by the door, while they talked, and quirked an eyebrow.
Ben was a very sweet, friendly, nice guy out in public, and an absolute demon in bed. He started to think again about how Ben had talked him into begging for the meta to come on his face. And suddenly Ben approached, interrupting his fantasy, and Ilya coughed on orange juice.
“You okay?” Benry asked.
Clearing his throat, Ilya stood up straight. His cheeks were pink. “Uh, yeah.”
Something in Ben’s face changed, and he had the same wolfish grin Ilya had seen when Ben fucked his mouth. “Well, good.”
Ilya looked away, embarrassed, and wondered how many people had gotten to see that grin, too. They started out the front doors, bagels and fruit in tow, when Ben went still. Ilya blinked up at him, and then followed his stare out into the parking lot. Next to the motorcycle, a young guy -- maybe Ilya’s age -- stood adjusting his gray fitted suit. He wore a black cowl -- obviously a Mask.
“Looks like our ride is here,” Ben grumbled, frowning.
Ilya looked back to him. “Something wrong?”
“No.” His frown turned to a pout. “Nothing’s wrong.” ------ Author's Note: Hellllo everyone. I'm here with a rather smut-filled update! I'm going to pretend the ratio of plot to smut in this chapter is much more balanced than it actually is. HA. Review responses for the last chapter can be found on my tumblr: http://missellywhite.tumblr.com -- again, thank you SO MUCH everyone for your great feedback. It means the world to me! Next week: Benry and Ilya get "a ride" and their "driver" is...a bit of a character. See you next week!