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Light slips through the cracks in the shutters, dusty and softened by dawn. It caresses Six’s skin, brushing against every scar and flaw and hollow of his body. Sleep has made him loose-limbed, almost docile. And for now, Avik is content with sitting back against the wooden headboard of the bed and watching over him.
Outside of the darkened windows of the safe house, the grass is wet and glittery from morning dew and the dense housing of cedar trees lightly sways in an upcoming breeze. Nature has stretched its hands all the way up to the horizon. They are alone here, completely off the grid and under the radar.
Not that it helps simmer down Six’s paranoia. This soldier-esque mentality has been so deeply drilled into his bones that it would take a lifetime of carefully dissecting and abrading all the conditioning and manipulation before anyone could even think about integrating him back into society.
Six is a murder tool of the CIA gone rogue, there is no way of sugar-coating the truth.
Even now, in the throes of deep slumber, there is still an awful lot of tension keeping his spine too rigid, his lips too pinched. It's barely noticeable, easy to miss, but Avik has always had an eye for details.
Six is lying on his back, one arm bent and weakly pressing a pillow into the curves of his rips while his other is sprawled across the mattress, his fingers crooked as though attempting to reach for the bedside table.
One of the drawers houses a gun; Avik knows because he's watched Six put it there before going to sleep, every single night without fail. In the beginning, once Avik finally convinced the man to use the bed instead of a chair near the door, Six used to store the gun under a pillow. But they are in a secure location, with a monitoring system and alarms and security cameras, and they do an extra sweep of the parameters every day around sunrise and nightfall.
They are safe. And Avik will never get tired of reminding Six of that, will never quite give up hope of one day getting that revelation through his thick skull. Because as much as Avik loves his own weapons very dearly, he has no intentions of cuddling with them.
He puts more of his weight against the headboard, a pleasant smile lifting the corners of his mouth as he rakes his gaze across the man beside him. It's not often that he gets these quiet, tender moments to himself, time to appreciate and marvel at Six's body in all its stretched-out glory.
Six is restive, unsettled, always on the move when he's awake. Being holed up in the safe house made that glaringly obvious. He treats sleep more like a rare luxury than a necessity, and on the occasion that he isn't deep cleaning his weapons, Avik either finds him excessively checking up on Claire or running circles into the floorboards like a caged animal at the zoo – he might as well be one.
Feeling trapped like this makes him agitated beyond belief, and sometimes Avik wonders if it's because it reminds him a little too much of his time in prison.
Six smells clean for once, but there is this metallic scent that seems to follow him, sharp but not quite like blood. It's enticing. Avik can't get enough of it.
Washed-out sheets are pooling dangerously low around his hips, twisting around his thighs and calves, and doing a poor job of hiding the plains of naked skin from the mallow rays of the rising sun. His groin is covered, if only barely, but his happy trail is peeking out over the corner of the sheets, a dusted line of fine, blonde hair trailing up his belly.
His lashes are dark against his cheeks, his lips dry and parted. He's taking slow but deep inhales, his lungs expanding and chest rising.
Six is handsome, in a ruggish, bloody sense, but judging by his day-to-day behavior and demeanor, he is aware of it in all the wrong ways. He knows how to use his looks to his advantage, but he's completely oblivious to the full-blown effect he can have on a person.
It fills Avik with both amusement and regret but he doesn't let himself dwell on it for too long.
He suppresses the urge to reach out and feel for the man's heartbeat, for the rush of blood in his veins. His cock isn't hard, but it's not fully soft either. He takes it in his hand, neither squeezing nor stroking, just holding it as he keeps his gaze pinned on Six; the bump of his nose, the cove of his collarbone, and the coiled muscles in his arms.
Six is starting to get restless. His brows furrow and his fingers twitch, the sheet across his lap shifting ever so slightly. He can feel he's being observed. His instincts never break down on him, even unconscious. It is one of the many traits Avik has come to appreciate about the man.
Avik keeps his facial expression smoothed out and cautiously schooled but he allows himself a tiny twitch of his mouth, the only thing betraying his fondness. It's a dangerous notion in their field of work, but he's always been a strong believer in preserving his humanity, no matter how much blood he's had to wash from his hands.
Gingerly, he shifts away from the headrest. His bones are buzzing pleasingly, the residues of a good lay from the night prior still palpable. There is no need to rush this. He firmly plans on drawing this out as long as possible.
Beginning to lean forward, he doesn't get very far.
Six startles awake, teeth fledged and fists swinging, but Avik barely has any difficulties catching his hands and restraining them against the mattress before they can do any harm.
The Sierra agent is still drowsy and worn out from last night, from when Avik finally got him to the point of letting his guard drop – the result of weeks of prodding and gentle prying. It was worth it, in the end, watching Six come fully undone, trapped between the sheets and darkness, like his pleasure was a secret only few are allowed to witness.
Avik fully intends on keeping him that way, open and exposed and soft, for as long as possible. He refuses to let Six slam his guards back down, to seal himself off.
Though Avik is all too aware that it's much easier said than done. It's going to require a lot of patience and work. Six is as stubborn as a mule.
But so is Avik.
Six begins to twist around in the firm grip Avik has on him. It's painfully clear he's struggling, not used to feeling so heavy and lethargic. He's getting more agitated by the second. Something dangerous flashes in his eyes and Avik knows better than to underestimate the strength of a predator, even sex-sedated and sleep-dazed. He lets go of Six’s hands.
“Stand down, soldier,” he murmurs, offering Six an anchor, a way to ground himself until he's gained back his orientation and composure.
Six squints up at him, swallowing hard as he fights old memories that are long lost to time; some of which are forever branded into his flesh in the form of ugly scars, Avik is sure of that.
“San,” Six grinds out his last name like he didn't have his dick down his throat only hours before. His voice is rough and hoarse, and Avik can't quite pinpoint whether it's from sleep or the blowjob.
He moves around until he's fully bent over Six’ naked body, bracketing him with his knees and hands. His cock is poking against the inside of Six’s thigh, smearing precum all over it, but the man hardly notices it. It doesn't take long for him to grow restless once more, his fight-or-flight reflex surely tearing his insides apart.
“You've been watching me sleep.” It's not a question. “That's not creepy at all.”
“Of course I did. How could I not?” He goes to tilt Six’s head up, hungry for a kiss, but Six shakes him off, his jaw clenched.
He's studying him warily, chin jutted out in an obvious attempt to appear scary and threatening.
Avik isn't easily fooled. Clicking his tongue, he reaches for Six’s shoulder, the one with the long, nasty-looking scar that seems to split his flesh so deeply, he fears it goes down to the bone. It's old, but Avik has noticed the way Six would sometimes flinch and rub at his shoulder, feebly trying to chase away the phantom ache of the injury.
Slowly, as to not startle Six a second time, he begins to massage the rough patch of skin, making sure to dig his fingers into taut knots and tense muscles until they relax under his hand.
A shiver slithers up Six’s spine. He's struggling, caught up in denial and want, but despite his best efforts to hide it, Avik can tell he's starting to enjoy being at the center of his attention.
“Relax,” says Avik, “It's just you and me. We've got all the time in the world.”
He uses his other hand to push the sheets away, bearing the last of Six’s dignity to the warm air of the room. Ignoring the stifled gasp it earns him, he ghosts his fingers along Six’ dick, brushing over the head and down to the base. His touch is fleeting, teasing, but he's relentless with it, working Six until he can feel his breath growing ragged and his cock stiffen against his palm.
Six huffs out a frustrated groan through clenched teeth, his hips stuttering as though he can't quite decide whether to push up or pull away. He's battling with the hard-wired urge to resist, to not show any weakness, and by the looks and sounds of it, it's working.
Feeling Six go deathly still beneath his hands, Avik bites back on a smirk. All fight seems to have drained out of him, at least for now.
This time, Six allows him to tilt back his chin and do as he pleases.
“That's it,” Avik can't help but purr. Six's breath is stale from sleep but Avik hardly complains, not wasting any time before interlocking them in a sweet, languid kiss.
Six is still slightly on edge, too overstrung and too cautious for Avik’s liking. So he draws the kiss out. playfully biting down on Six lips when he gets ahead of himself and tries to aim for something more intense.
Avik licks into Six’s mouth, behind his teeth, sucks on his tongue, savoring each breathy moan and sharp gasp, until he's lulled him away from the alert, paranoid state and back into the soft haze of drowsiness, and Six is pliant and malleable once more.
When he pulls away, Six’s lips are reddened and slick from saliva. His eyes are blown out under heavy lids, his skin hot and face flushed from sleep and arousal.
Avik has to contain the sudden urge to ravage him. He'd look beautiful forcefully taking his cock, completely gutted and fucked out, but it's not what he needs right now.
What he truly needs is someone who takes their sweet time to tug and pluck him apart, works him open, and feeds him their cock slowly, who is gentle and steady as they bring him to completion.
Not that Avik is complaining. How could he, when Six looks so breathtakingly gorgeous, sprinkled in flakes of morning light, spread out and vulnerable below him.
He kisses him again, not giving Six much time to breathe. Absently, he begins to stroke Six’ cock. It's painfully hard by now, pulsing hot against the calluses of his hand.
Six groans and presses his head deep into the pillow. Avik takes the opportunity to dip down and scrape his teeth over his ear lobe, keeping his voice low, barely above a whisper, “Let me fuck you.”
At that, Six thaws like snow, a deep, guttural whine building in the back of his throat.
“Please,” he mutters, sounding desperate, torn, as though it costs him excruciating pain just to bring the word over his lips.
The first time they slept together, his shyness had come as a surprise. As much as Six tries to keep up a stoic and poised persona during the day, he breaks ridiculously easily at the first signs of affection. It twinges and pulls at Avik's heartstrings, that Six knows how to disassemble and rebuild a gun by nothing but memories but has never been taught how to embrace tenderness and take pleasure unapologetically.
Six is no stranger to sex, that much is obvious. But between getting his hands dirty and staying alive, it has never been more than rough fucks and quick hook-ups. Six is not as confident in his sexuality as it may appear at first glance. He has never had the time to actually and thoroughly explore his own mind and body before, and Avik hopes to help him with that.
There is a different kind of control in being comfortable with one's sexuality, and he is eager for Six to get a taste of it.
He settles between Six legs, nudging his knees aside and parting his thighs. “‘Please’ what?”
Six grinds his jaw and glares up at him, though the heat of it is lost by the dazed look in his eyes. He's not ready to fully give up control just yet, and perhaps he never will. But Avik is fine with that. What they are doing here, it's not about power or dominance, but more about being pushed out of one's comfort zone.
“Come on, Six,” Avik encourages, ignoring the scowl. He tightens his fist around Six’s cock, delighted at the way Six rocks up and into him. “Cat got your tongue?”
Avik has always been good at reading people and although even he is struggling when it comes to Six and his emotions, he doesn't need to look too deep to know what's boiling up below the surface. Six is a very prideful, stubborn man; scarily similar to a dog with a bone when he senses a challenge.
Six’s brows knit together, a shadow of hesitancy scurrying across his face but it's gone before Avik can put much thought into it. Stubbornly, Six maintains his stare.
The lopsided grin that tugs at the corners of his mouth is both utterly infuriating and unbelievably infatuating, “Come and find out?”
Avik shakes his head, “Stupid American, always gotta be so damn cocky all the time.”
Six opens his mouth but whatever snarky remark he was about to make tapers off into a shocked gasp as Avik chooses that exact moment to push one of his fingers into him.
He effortlessly slips down to the last knuckle. Six is still deliciously loose and supple from last night. He adds another finger, curls and spreads them, brushes his dull nails across Six’s inner walls, observing as his carefully guarded expression crumbles and pleasure takes hold of him. Six is coming undone, piece by dragging piece, and it's a beautiful sight to behold.
Avik's own cock is heavily pressed up against his stomach, and as much as he prides himself on his iron-clad self-restraint, he's become tired of waiting. He retracts his fingers to grasp Six’s waist, shushing whatever protest is building up in the man's throat.
“Patience,” he simply says, not bothering to hide a smirk when Six growls at him.
He finds the bottle of lube just where he left it the day before, carelessly discarded on the bedside table. The lube is cold when he squeezes it out of its container, so he rubs the tips of his fingers together, warming it up before graciously slicking up his dick.
Then, without wasting any more time, he guides the head of his cock to Six’s hole and pushes inside.
Six’s teeth dig into his bottom lip but he can't quite stifle a whine as Avik slowly feeds him his cock inch by maddening inch, gentle but persistent. Embarrassment colors his cheeks red, licking down his neck and over his chest.
Who knew the Sierra agent would paint such a pretty picture, being a blushing and whimpering mess between sweaty sheets.
Giving Six time to adjust, Avik runs his fingers over his chest, along the black curved lines of a dog. His tattoos move with the stretch of his skin, like the dark ink is alive, winding and twisting along his arms and chest. It's fascinating, captivating, and Avik drags the palm of his hand over heated flesh, feeling the skin of Six’s abdomen ripples, the muscles hidden underneath the softness of his belly flexing in an effort to accommodate the full girth of the cock.
Avik is greatly enjoying this side of the Gray Man. There is just something about peeling back the layers of grime and blood, stripping away the violence, and exposing the vulnerability of his bones, bared and raw.
It's not a sadistic thrill at seeing him untethered that Avik draws from it, but more of a satisfaction. It's about being able to witness Six experience a fundamentally different side of pleasure, deep and primal, as well as an opportunity to get to know him, to meet the real Six, apart from the smoke of a gun or the adrenaline of a chase or the stench of death.
Six isn't just a brute muscle force, a killing machine at the CIA's disposal. There is a heart somewhere underneath his scarred skin, and to Avik, that makes him all the more desirable.
When he's fully sunken inside, hips flush with Six’s ass and the underside of his thighs, Avik stills. He gets a firm grip around his rips, getting a feel of the feverish flesh and the strong bones in his grasp; it feels easy, as natural as handling a gun or wielding a knife. Avik wants to memorize this moment, sear it into his brain for eternity.
“We gonna fuck, or what?” Impatiently, Six bucks up into him, grinding his ass back onto his cock.
Avik answers his restlessness with a crushing hold on his chin. He captures his lip in yet another kiss, thrusts his tongue deep into his throat, and pulls out husky, trembling gasps from under his gum and behind his teeth. He wants to feel Six, smell him, taste him; consume him with his hunger, and drown him in his pleasure.
The heavy scent of clean sheets and sweat and arousal clouds the air. The light of the sun is still delicately dim in the frail hours of the morning.
“This all you got?” Six complains breathlessly. He is growing uneasy under the intensity of Avik's scrutiny, grabbling for a desperate attempt to conceal his need with annoyance.
His lips are bitten raw. His eyes are dark pools of lust, the black of his pupils eating up most of his grayish blue irises. A drop of precum beads on his cock, dripping down and sticking to the dark hair curling around the base. Six’s chest trembles, his pulse flutters. He is so very close to falling apart completely, it's almost palpable.
The muscles in his shoulders twitch. He's preparing himself to make a move, to switch their positions, get Avik underneath him, and take back control, but Avik won't let him.
Tightening his grip, he pushes Six’s hips back into the mattress, flashing a tiny, toothy grin, “Slow down,” he whispers, drawing back until just the tip remains inside, “We've got the entire day all to ourselves. Let's make it count.”
Without warning, he snaps forward and buries himself to the hilt. Six clenches down on him, his jaw clicking open as he pants and gasps for air.
Avik isn't faring much better. It's taking every fiber of his concentration to not rail Six hard and fast until the windows shatter and the bed frame breaks. The maddening sensation of filling Six up, the feeling of the heat of his flesh and the drag of his walls, it's driving Avik insane.
He starts thrusting, slow but deep, keeping a tight leash on his own pleasure. Watching Six lose his mind like this, listening to the sinful noises spilling forth, that alone is almost enough to get him off.
Slightly canting up his hips, he picks up the pace. It's not hard to pinpoint the exact moment his dick brushes against his prostate. A sound builds up in Six’s chest, rumbling and obscene. His back curves off the mattress, the tightly coiled cords in his neck locking up as his eyes roll into the back of his head.
Avik softens his thrusts but does not stop.
“F-fuck, Avik.” Six blinks rapidly. His gaze is unfocused, his words beginning to slur together.
That's it, Avik thinks, smothering his smugness against the man's chest. His mouth finds one of Six’s nipples, already stiff from arousal. He flicks over it with his tongue, noting how Six’s hands bunch into fists and the beat of his heart takes a stumble.
“You're beautiful, Six. Did you know that?”
Six shakes his head vehemently, squeezing his eyes shut like that could protect him from the overwhelming onslaught of lust Avik pulls from him. He's tenacious, Avik has to hand him that.
He uses his teeth to scrape over Six’s nipples, not too harsh to inflict damage but enough to teeter the edge of pain. Six’s forehead creases together and yet he gathers enough strength to shove himself off the bed, pushing his chest into Avik’s mouth and his ass further down his cock.
Avik is pretty sure not even Six knows what he wants at this point.
Avik chuckles. He stretches out over Six, crowding him into the sheets and pillows. The new position changes the angle, shoves him right against Six’s prostate. He fucks into him steadily but keeps his strokes viciously lazy and slow, coaxing soft, needy moans from Six’s raw, slick lips.
“Avik, it's—this isn't…I need-” Six is past forming coherent sentences at this point, can do nothing but scramble for the headboard, his knuckles straining white against the old wood as he searches for any form of purchase.
Perhaps it makes him a bastard, but Avik feels oddly proud as he watches Six fall apart right underneath the gentle roughness of his hands. There is a special kind of gratification when reaping the fruits of one's labor, especially if they are as delicious and delectable as Six.
“Avik,” Six hisses again, “I'm gonna—gonna rip your throat out if you don't-”
He's a wreck, all dazed and fucked out. His hair is plastered against his temple, his gaze wild and glassy.
Avik responds by biting down on the junction of his shoulder, where a scar meets his neck, relishing in the shudder he draws out of Six.
“You've behaved so well, been so good for me,” he tells him, tone low as if sharing a secret with the man underneath him.
Six whimpers. His guards are fully torn down now, his inhibitions completely crushed, Avik is sure. If he were more lucid, less sex-drunk, he would've never allowed such a grave slip-up.
Avik digs his fingers into Six’s jaw, pulling him away from the safety of the pillows and forcing his neck to bend at an uncomfortable angle. “Such a good boy, Six. Think you deserve to cum?”
“Fuck you,” Six keens, “Fuck—fuck yes.”
Taking mercy on him, Avik grabs his neglected dick, focusing on the ridge below the head, where he's learned Six is the most sensitive. He shoves him deeper into the sheets, the grip on his hips bruising as he feverously thrusts him into the headboard.
It doesn't take long till Six’s legs begin to shake and his back arches off the mattress. The moan that leaves him is startlingly loud in the tender silence of the morning, his eyes rolling back once more. He spills over Avik's hand and his own chest, completely soaking and ruining the bed with his cum.
The knowledge that he is one of the few – perhaps the only one to ever see Six like this, so vulnerable and bared, is enough to push Avik over the edge as well and he spills deep inside Six, his hips stuttering against the sinful curve of his ass.
Trying to catch his breath, he lets go of Six in order to steady himself against the bed. He doesn't immediately pull out, burning with the need to be close to Six, pressed against the heat of his skin and buried deep inside his body.
Six doesn't shove him away. He's gone boneless beneath him, sluggishly blinking up at him. His face smoothed out and caressed by the gold-dusted glow of the sun, he looks ready to fall asleep, subdued by the tide of his orgasm and no longer jittery with the urge to flee or fight.
Avik smiles softly. He lazily swirls his pointer finger through the mess of cum pooling on Six's belly, painting over the valley of his scars. Then, he begins to drag his finger further up to his sternum, dampening Six's still-heaving chest as he circles one of his nipples. Six shudders under his touch, nostrils flaring and goosebumps rising, but he doesn't stop Avik when he, at last, gently pries his lips apart and slides his finger into his mouth.
Rubbing the sticky wetness onto his tongue, Avik forces him to taste himself. His cock twitches inside Six, if only weakly, utterly spent from the past two days.
Six makes a choking noise deep in the back of his throat, but hollows his cheeks, sucking the finger deeper as his lips curl into a sleepy, satisfied smile. Closing his eyes, he stretches out his long limbs across the dirty sheets, not unlike an overgrown cat bathing in the sun.