snarrymod (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} snarrymod) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} snarry_games,@ 2008-05-29 21:47:00 |
 |
|||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Entry tags: | entry, stepmnstr, team dragon |
TEAM DRAGON ENTRY: Stepmnstr "Seeking Silence"
Title: Seeking Silence
Author: stepmnstr
Team:DRAGON!!!!
Genre(s): Alternate Reality *Hover/Click for Games Definition of Alternate Reality*
Prompt(s):Flesh Memory, Treasure Hunt
Rating/Warnings/Kinks: NC17; *Adult subject matter. MAJOR kink… BDSM, Wax Play, Knife Play, Bondage, Public Play (sort of), Sensation Play, OC's.*
Word Count: ~7,000
Summary: In one seeker's search for silence he finds a new beginning.
A/N (Beta's/thank-yous/et al): bella_the_dark, triciagnosis,florida_minxie and all of Team Dragon. Special thanks to the wonderful MODS!!!!!!
Disclaimer: If I owned them they wouldn't be found in the Kiddie Lit section of any bookstore. Actually if I owned them…
Harry squeezed his eyes closed under the blindfold trying to keep them from drying out. It also eased the itch that was creeping across the tip of his nose. This evening had been a complete waste of his time. Normally, he'd have been flying by now, the wonderful words of praise and comfort would have warmed him the way nothing else could. There hadn't been anyone near him since the guy with nylon ropes. Ick! Well, that guy'd had a good time but someone needed to tell him that bondage with nylon ropes was barbaric. Not to mention uncomfortable in a not-so-pleasant way.
The draft from the door caught his attention and brought him back to waiting position, in the centre of the room. Almost immediately, he was assaulted by the most unusual combination of scents. The aroma of well-worn, warm leather, a hint of fine tobacco, and the faintest whisper of something almost hypnotic, something teasing the edge of his mind. No words were spoken, which for this place was unusual. No verbal posturing, no lengthy explanations. Actually, the uncertainty was making for a nice change. He knew, by rules of this place, that his limits had been explained and agreed to by whomever entered this little room. The metallic click of an old-fashioned lighter echoed the sound of the door closing behind him.
The caress of leather against his skin caused him to shiver briefly. The push/pull of a gloved hand at his chin brought his head up, encouraging his body to follow. Standing now, he could feel those hands firmly guiding his arms as they were positioned and restrained. His torso was bent forward, parallel to the floor exposing the back of his neck, making a long slope of his back. His shivering intensified. He willed himself to stillness, to wait for what the mysterious presence had in mind. The hand slid down his back as if gentling him.
Suddenly heat danced over his skin. Abstract and random the first droplets fell. Oh! The heat! The blossoming pain! The muscles in his upper arms were traced and then encased in warm wax. His ribcage became the next section of canvas to be warmed and etched. Harry no longer cared where the wax was going. He no longer had any realisation of where those magical hands were or what designs they were drawing on the canvas of his body. He was in full flight. Nowhere near the planet and loving every second of it. Gods, he lived for this.
Slowly he realised that there was no heat on his skin. New patterns inscribed into the hardened wax to the canvas being made as the ice thin edge of a knife on his skin. The slight scritch of the blade, the sounds of breathing - both his and that of his companion, and that scent, that tantalising half recognised scent, were the anchors returning him to earth. Harry was only half-aware when his arms were slowly, carefully brought down. A warm blanket enfolded him, as he was lead to the cushions in the corner. Usually there were words of praise and reassurance to go along with the gentle touches and comfort of warm arms. Tonight however, no words were spoken even now. Had he been more aware that lack would have shocked him right back into his skin. As it was with this person, it seemed natural, normal, and above all right in a way that defied description. His heartbeat danced along his eardrums and the hairs on his arms and legs shifted with each breath. Harry floated along comfortable in the strong arms that cradled him as confidently as those hands had tortured him. Sounds of leaves dancing in a high wind, surf crashing against rocks filled his brain and a kaleidoscope of rainbows danced behind his eyelids. The warm damp rough feel of the flannel added to his contentment. If he were a cat, Harry would be purring. There was no reason to rush back to Earth. Everything he needed/wanted/could ever wish for was right here right now. This was his whole reason for being here; doing this, this was perfect.
He must have dozed off. When his eyes opened he was alone. The only sign that he had not been alone all evening, besides the lassitude that held him in place, was the short stub of a paraffin candle.
Harry looked across the table at Orly, trying to consider her advice, but his attention wandered. The dark tint of her skin reminded him of the feel of the gloves that his mystery had been wearing. Everything seemed to remind him of that night.
He, Orly, and Rayne had met up at the pub. He had older friendships, but none deeper than the one he shared with these two. A wad of paper caught the side of his face and his glasses.
"Earth to Potter. Come in, Potter." Rayne's voice was laced with laughter but it was obvious that he'd been trying to get Harry's attention for a few minutes. "You've been wandering around in a fog ever since last Saturday night, what gives?"
Harry just looked at him. He hadn't been that oblivious had he?
Orly laughed.
"Rayne, you got here too late to hear the whole story. Harry's met the "Dom of his dreams"," she said, wiggling her fingers in the universal motion, "and he has no f-ing clue who it is. Hell, he doesn't even know what sex they are; or even what they look like. It's been rather cute actually, listening to him gush alllll over someone he can't even describe."
"I. Don't. Gush." Harry was certain of that fact. He was not the gushing type. Nope, not him. "It was just really an amazing night. Started out like crap. Bloody hell, but it ended marvellously."
"See what I mean, Rayne? He's been like this all week. What's he gonna do if this mystery Dom turns out to be a mystery Domme?" She giggled, Rayne laughed, and Harry choked.
Harry decided that Orly was having just too much fun with all of this. He leaned back in his chair trying to find a way to take some of the wind out of her sails. The firm back of the chair caused his spine to arch as if in reaction to touch.
"Orly, you are so wrong! It couldn't have been a mystery Domme. He was a Dom. Totally male." He couldn't really say why he was so sure all of a sudden. But he was. Totally, completely and confidently sure.
Harry and his pint relaxed in the bar area of The Warthog. He wasn't in the mood to play tonight. He was waiting for Rayne and Amiee. Rayne had finally convinced Amiee to come to bar and see what options it offered. It was loads of fun for Harry, watching Rayne and Amiee renegotiate their marriage. Not that he knew the details, of course. That was strictly between the Domme and her sub, between a husband and his wife. As it should be; no matter how close the two friends were some things would always remain TMI. He had used Rayne as his safe call more than once in the past, in return he'd agreed to be Rayne's. He sighed and checked his watch. They were, as usual, late.
Harry's wrists twitched as if checking the strength of a rope. He wasn't bound he knew that; something was causing him… there, that scent… vaguely familiar and oh so very tantalising. It wasn't just a reaction to a pub full of people wearing leather as easily as if it were denim. He was more than used to that. It was the combination of scent and shadow that was making his wrists ache and his cock react. There was something so compelling that about it that he forgot he was waiting for Rayne and Amiee. As he stood overlooking the room, trying to isolate t what-ever-it was that had grabbed him so completely.
There. Over there, in that corner by the door. Tall, shadowed, male? If this was the Dom from last weekend it had to be male. Harry had to get a much closer look. He really wanted to be sure before he began approaching someone the basis of half-remembered aroma.
"Harry! We're here." Rayne's normally welcome voice broke into his thoughts distracting him from his search. Bloody hell this made for rotten timing. "Were you looking for us? We aren't that late."
"Not really. I just thought I recognised someone's all" Harry hugged his friend as he returned to his seat at the bar. " Wanna go grab a table so Amiee has a better view of everything without being on display?"
"Stared at? Why on earth would anyone be staring at me?" Amiee sounded truly curious.
"Rayne, you want to answer that one?"
"Nope. You're the resident expert in the correct behaviour in leather bars."
Amiee looked at the two men as if they were speaking Greek. Then she checked out her own outfit. Nothing strange there: Black jeans, black shirt, and boots. "I thought you said this was a casual place and that I didn't need to dress up? So… what am I missing here?"
As they made their way to an empty table along the wall, Harry couldn't help but laugh at her questions. He remembered asking the same things when Orly had brought him here for the first time. Come to think of it Orly had laughed at him too.
"Amiee, dear, you two are new faces. And you're with me a known, un-partnered sub. And you're obviously a Domme. Any new Domme is going to get stared at and appraised. There aren't as many Dommes in this crowd as there are Doms. Before you ask no, this isn't a gay bar. You are going to find all types in a really good leather bar."
"Rayne isn't going to attract attention then?" Amiee asked as she took in her surroundings.
"Of course he is! Just not as much or as openly. He came in with you."
"I always knew who had the looks in this marriage!" Rayne laughed. He was thrilled that Amiee had agreed to come and was proud of all the attention directed her way. He knew she was something special. That was why he'd married her as soon as she'd let him. "Now answer my question, if you weren't looking for us, who was it you were starring at over by the door? My Lord Mysterious?" Rayne had decided that tag was much more fun for teasing Harry than Orly's tall dark and questionable theme.
"Could have been. I don't know." And I now may never know, Harry thought to himself, but there had been something to that shadowy shape and the hint of something in the air.
They settled back into causal conversation as Amiee and Rayne let their eyes explore the club and its patrons, trying not to stare too much. Harry relaxed and watched his world unfurl for his friends.
It caught him at the most unexpected times: the feeling of hands stroking his back, a fist in his hair, the sight of burning candles on the cake Neville had made for Luna, the crackle of waxed paper in the staff room still drawing him back to That Night. Harry laughed at himself. He could hear the capitalisation in his own thoughts. Bloody hell though, if he'd ever had a night that deserved such a memorial, that had been it. The scent held his imagination most securely. He still hadn't been able to remember exactly what had been in that amazing aroma besides the stroke of leather but almost everywhere he went there was at least a hint of it on the air.
In the tube this morning had been the half-seen silhouette of the man exiting the car as he had entered. Taller and slender seeming, the man had moved quickly with the grace of a martial artist or dancer. Harry's pulse had picked up a beat or three as he gazed after the shadowy figure. As he took a steadying breath a touch of that elusive scent assailed him. It could have just been the usual combination of people, perfume, and take away. Harry wanted it to be the usual commuter smells but inside, where true his feelings, lived he knew better. Bollocks, he was sounding like Rayne's teenage daughter with her newest boy-band-crush. Sighing, Harry returned his attention to the piles of files on his desk. Silent and mysterious was much more interesting than quality control.
Looking around Harry realised that it had been a month since he had placed himself in a playroom. Four weeks since the night of silence, the night that haunted his dreams and his fantasies. He adjusted his blindfold as the door began to open after a brief knock. Bloody hell! There it was again that scent: that indefinable, indescribable scent. Harry swallowed the shivery sigh that tried to escape his throat. Footsteps - firm and measured- circled around him. Harry could feel the pressure of the silent figure's gaze weighing, measuring, appraising and he hoped, oh Gods, how he hoped, approving.
Harry wasn't able to contain the sound/breath that escaped him as a loose jumble of silk ropes cascaded over his shoulders and pooled at his feet. An approving touch landed on the back of his neck with the cool warmth of soft leather.
Arms encircled him as hands ran down his sides to his hips with just enough weight to be authoritative and then those leather-clad fingers spider-walked their way back up his body. One wrist was clasped and raised out to shoulder height. The silent presence behind paused there, holding Harry's arm, waiting. Waiting for Harry's acceptance or rejection of the offer made by the rope at his feet.
"Y-y-y-yes. Oh yes, sir," fell out of his throat, dropping into the pregnant silence. His arm was raised above his head and held there, as once again, his acceptance was silently requested. Harry's voice was surer stronger this time, "Yes, please, sir." His other arm was quickly brought to join the first one. His fingers closed over the leather wrapped ring and his wrists were cuffed together. He heard the rattle of slack in the chain being taken up. And felt the abrupt movement of the gears as the ring was raised up just a bit closer to the ceiling. Stretching him until almost on his toes.
Harry hung there for a moment, all stretched and exposed. A blush began to build and heat his face. He could feel a delicate knotted pattern beginning, as his feet were bound heel to heel. Slowly the ropes began to be worked up his legs. It felt as if there was a diamond pattern being done. A part of him wished he could see; the rest of him relaxed into the building feeling of entanglement. Over, under, around, the web grew up his legs, towards his aching cock. The thought crossed his mind that this must be how Hans Christian Anderson's little mermaid felt when she lost her legs and got her tail back, just before she dissolved into foam. Those talented hands with the silken ropes stopped their upward advance and pushed his thighs apart. Taking time to build a solid pattern of knots stopping just there. Just below his balls where he could just barely feel the edge of the ropes brushing against the sensitive, shaven skin.
From the tops of the ropes, the backs of those magical, marvellous hands roam up across his thighs and arse, teasing down low across his belly but never ever going near the centre of his obvious need. Then, suddenly, surely they are there; wrapping the rope around his cock, as if it were the centre strand in a braid. Not too tight. This wasn't meant to work as cock ring but as decoration, with a hint of restraint. Harry couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes downward. He wanted to see, damn it!
The silent Dom - and it really, really had to be a Dom- stepped up on the riser behind him and began to weave a new pattern on Harry's upraised arms. Again, the hypnotic of feeling of being cocooned. Pressure. Tighter here. Slightly less there. He soon felt as if there were no bones in his arms; the cage of the silk that rose over his head solely supported him. Light, teasing licks ran over his knuckles and short biting kisses landed on his fingertips. Feather soft touches graced his ankles and feet. He relaxed even more into boneless contentment. Those magic hands began stroking his torso and back, occasionally dropping pinches here and there. As markers, perhaps to plan where the next set of designs would be placed. Harry didn't know. Harry didn't care.
Time passed in that wonderful space, that was nowhere and yet everywhere. Universes were born and died; an acorn sprouted to a sapling and grew into an entire forest. Life began again, cool fingers ran along the bottom edge of his blindfold, fleeting fingers danced through his hair and tracing spirals around his navel. Harry felt the edge of a hand across the bridge of his nose, just where one shields the eyes for a surprise or to play peek-a-boo with a child. Harry closed his eyes behind the blindfold and waited; still floating in his nest of silk and trust.
With the blindfold dangling behind his neck, Harry looked down at himself. He was staring at his poor, neglected, aching, leaking cock in its cage of diamond spaces and knots. His body bore no ropes, just his arms, legs and cock. The design making the tan of his legs and arms all the darker; making the blush kissed winter paleness of his body all the more startling in contrast. He was framed in the ropes, the designs accented by the leather-clad hand resting on his hip. Harry had never felt so exposed.
He watched, fascinated, as the naked fingers of the other's hand traced the edges of the designs on his cock- light teasing touches tracing the braided pattern. He leant backward just enough to feel the man at his back. Harry melted. With the firm chest at his back, the knot work exposing him, the leather at his hips and the warm fingers on his cock. Oh yes! He melted.
In no predictable pattern, the knot work on his needy cock began to slacken: to release his leaking flesh into the waiting hands - one leather clad and the other as naked as he was. Harry's head fell back, his eyes rolled back into his head. He could feel the play of the muscles holding him as those hands danced. Stroking, pulling, twisting, tapping a pattern on the head, fondling his balls. The combination of these sensations launched Harry into flight and he exploded with jet propelled force into the air. Harry didn't hear his own moan of release but he felt the echoing breath in his mysterious playmate. Arms circled around him, holding him close, giving him an anchor. Harry drifted slowly back into his skin, he found the ropes were being undone as skilfully, as surely, as silently as they had been applied. His legs released and feet placed fully back on the floor, his arms brought back down slowly as those hands - wonderful, magical, masterful hands- ran up and down checking for bruises or scrapes and easing those muscle spasms as his body was returned to him. The comfort of a soft damp flannel cleaned him and the warmth of a blanket enfolded him. As secure in the arms as he had been in the ropes, Harry dozed knowing those eyes- the eyes he had yet to meet- were watching over him.
Harry stood in the shower, the lather from his hair running down his arms. Who'd ever have thought that lather flowing into lines could form such pretty patterns? So very similar to the ones that had held him so securely the other night. Not as attractive, though. White foam versus black silk? No contest.
Oh, bloody hell, he was late! Rushing into his office he was greeted by the calming tones of his assistant/keeper of the coffee.
"Harry, there's a Mr. Snape on line two for you. He says he's the new head of QA at Long-Good's."
"Finally. I've been waiting to hear from them for days now. Put him through, please, Cho." He grabbed the top file. " Quality Control, Potter speaking."
"Mr. Potter, this is Severus Snape. I am the new head of Quality Assurance at Long-Good's Natur-Medics. I would like to apologise for taking so long to return your call. However, I wished to be certain that I had all of the facts in order before speaking with you." A deep, rich voice rolled out of the telephone.
He remembered Neville mentioning something about a new department head and his being something of a particular sort of man. Rather intimidating was Neville's description of the man. Luna had merely laughed and said that his manner was all the more reason for Nev to stay out of the offices and in the greenhouses where he belonged.
"Neville, Mr. Longbottom, had mentioned that there were some changes coming into effect when I last talked with him. I was prepared to wait a bit until you had a chance to settle in and familiarise yourself with the situation." Prepared to wait, yes but not patiently or happily. "From the fact that you are calling me now, I hope that means that you have found out where our shipment is, why it isn't here and when we can receive it? "
"As to the first part of your question, you have not received it because it was sent to Phoenix Feathers Ltd. in Scotland. As to the second part it appears that someone in shipping and receiving went to school with owners of Phoenix Feathers and included your order along with theirs. An unfortunate choice of friendship over employment was to blame."
Hmm. Mr. Snape didn't sound too happy about that. Harry wondered if Nev or Luna had informed their new hire that they were old school friends of his. He wondered if that might be the reason for the bite in that rich voice.
"Mrs. Longbottom will be in London tomorrow and will personally deliver that portion of your order we have for you by two o'clock in the afternoon. This includes the Sweet Dreams tincture, the Cough-Off syrup and half of your requested amount of the Simmer Down tea. The remainder should be ready to ship by Friday, Monday next at the latest."
Yes, there was a touch of disdain in that operatic voice. Harry wondered if he realised that it was Luna who chose the names and did most of the market research.
"That's very nice of Lu… Mrs. Longbottom, but we really need the entire order before Friday. The loss of this last shipment has put our distribution and sales forces in a bind. We are already behind in our deliveries by a week. What's the hold up with the rest?"
"The hold-up, as you phrased it, is merely that some of the specific items in your order are still infusing, whilst other items are awaiting Mr. Longbottom's approval for harvest. Add to those two facts, the terms of your contract ensure that I must personally examine your orders. I intend for these tinctures to be of the highest quality when delivered to you."
"I appreciate that, Mr. Snape. I shouldn't need to have to tell you that we have never had a complaint about anything we have ever purchased from Long-Good's. While I am sure that Mr. Longbottom has complete confidence in any changes that he is allowing you to make in his traditional formulae, my order was for the original formula and I am quite happy with it. I see no need for you to be experimenting on my purchases. As this seems to have started with a shipping clerk may I ask why I'm talking to you in stead of Padma, Ms. Patil, rather? She is that department's head after all."
"Ms. Patil is no longer employed here. As for the changes, I wish for the Natur-Medics customers to receive the best that we can offer and that would be my own formulations."
Damn, but the man was sure of himself. Harry wasn't sure if it was arrogance or competence. He flipped through his desk calendar. "We really do need the entire order as soon as possible. Is there anyway that you can overnight the remainder say on Thursday morning? With flu season nearly here and the need to run our own QC checks, especially on your alterations to what we've been receiving. You will be including the list of changes with the order documentation? "
A heavy silence came over the telephone line. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Potter, did you just request a list of the changes made to the tinctures and teas? As well as performing your own checks on my work? Surely, I did not hear that correctly."
"Surely, you did. You can't expect me to release what are essentially untried products into our stores? I will personally be checking the new formulations."
"Mr. Potter," the words were cool, clipped and not at all happy, "you do realise that I am Severus Snape."
"And I'm Harry Potter. Your point is, Mr. Snape? I wouldn't release untested mixtures if the Queen herself told me to. I have a responsibility to our stores and our customers."
"As well you should not as Her Majesty has no training in this area. However, my own training and reputation…"
"Check Dragon's Hoard's contract with Long-Good's. I have a perfect right to test and reject any modifications in supplies to us. I, we, also have a tighter than standard confidentiality clause regarding your company's proprietary info and processes."
"You may rest assured that I will be checking into both of those statements. I shall speak to you again after I have done so and have spoken with Mrs. Longbottom. Good day, Mr. Potter."
"Good day…" Harry didn't finish the sentence. He'd always thought that talking to the dial tone was stupid. What a git.
"Hey, Cho, expect a call from Luna Longbottom sometime just after lunch. I think I just managed to massively insult their new QA guy."
"Sure thing, Harry. I was just about to remind you that you have a meeting in 5 with Fred and George and they' re really going to want some updates on the missing shipment."
"At least, I can answer that. You remember Millie went into business with that Parkinson girl from school? Well, Padma diverted our shipment to their store in Scotland. Gotta love the old school ties."
"Like doing business with Long-Goods, isn't? Or hiring me on George's word?"
"George may have brought your name to my attention but he did not get you this job. Your skills, the fact that you can organise this disaster I call an office without having or causing a meltdown did that. I'm heading down to the canteen. I need a very strong cuppa and chocolate after that. Ask the twins to join me there, please?"
Harry turned his computer on when he got home that evening. He had no plans for this evening beyond checking his e-mail. He noticed that he had an offline message from the Abbess.
Seeker,
Please check your email at the club account or I'll think you don't love me anymore.
Abbess ;)
Well, that was certainly unusual. If he was going to hear from one of Playmasters at The Warthog it was almost always Seedy. Abbess dealt primarily with the other Dommes/Doms, Seedy with subs and Serpentine with the high rollers on either side. It wasn't set in stone though. After all it wasn't a very large club and everyone mostly knew everyone by sight if not by name. But it couldn't have been that long since he had checked his club account, could it? Better to log in and find out.
Seeker,
I have a dom wondering if you are going to be here this weekend? Apparently you two have played before. His scene name is silence. Let me know one way or the other by Thursday night.
Abbess
Abbess,
yeah, I'll be there. Did he specify a time? Or anything? Seeker
Harry hit send. As if any other answer were possible. With a scene name like that it had to be his mystery man.
It was finally Friday. It was time to hit the shower and then The Warthog. In the back of his mind Harry kept hearing Tim Curry stutter out antici…pation.
It was Friday and of course the club was crowded as harry made his way to the check-in at the end of the bar. "Hey Seedy. Busy night, yeah?"
"Isn't it always? I saw that there had been an invitation for your presence but it didn't come through me. What's up? Or do you know?" C.D. was protective of everyone but more so of the unattached like Harry. He took his duties very seriously. Well, all three of them really did but with Seedy it was right out there in front.
"I don't know but I hope it's tall and silent. Y'know, the Dom I've seen the last coupla times I've been here? You don't happen to know anything about him do you? Like maybe what he looks like? Or if he's local?" Harry thought he might sound a little desperate but some clues would be nice. Then, too, CD was a friend if you can't wheedle information from friend…
"Seeker. You know the rules as well as the rest of us and better than most of them out there tonight." Cd's expansive gesture took in the entire mass of people in the club. " When and if he wants to tell you, you'll know. You've got his scene name and his attention so relax and enjoy it. Unless you have some complaints? Changes? General comments besides being a nosy bugger?" Sliding a cider and a key across the bar he watched Harry's face. "Didn't think so."
Harry accepted the drink, the key and the rebuke.
"Drink up, it's almost play time"
Harry left the half-finished drink on the bar and headed off for the room. Checking the numbered doors against the key tag he let himself into room number seven.
Looking around It could have almost been any mid-priced businessman's hotel room: fitted carpet, thick drapes allowing for the illusion of windows, a narrow bed that was taller than average - about waist high on a tall man, with matching tables. Two chairs flanking an electric fire completed the main room. A partially open door showed a small 'fridge and a microwave. He assumed the door led to the loo.
There, on the bed, was a folded piece of paper with his name typed on it.
Seeker,
Strip and as soon as you have made yourself comfortable I will be there. A reminder: safewords are Havoc and Mercury.
Silence
Brief, no hint of personality, or any clues as to what the man had in store for him this evening. Not that he really minded the lack of clues. Anticipation was a part of the game. His limits and safeword were fully known to his play-partners as tonight's note acknowledged. He didn't always know his Doms' safewords. In this case, though, it was another clue. Harry always felt very safe here at The Warthog.
Stripping, he was very grateful for the electric fire, not that it was ever really cold in the playrooms. With a slight jump, he landed on the bed and noticed that there was something missing. There was no blindfold. Oh bloody hell. One deep shuddering breath later, Harry opened his eyes. He didn't need the blindfold. He just really really liked it. Relaxation techniques that he had learnt early on came rushing into his head. Inhale-two-three-four. Exhale-two-three-four. Repeat and repeat again as needed. Your choice, Seeker, remember it's always your choice. The words of his long ago mentor echoed in his head. Just as he brought his breathing and his nerves under control, the outer door quickly opened and closed. His eyelids fluttered as he fought to keep them closed. There it was that scent! He lost the battle and his eyes went straight to the man. Tall, slender, black clad with dark hair pulled back from a … masked face? This must by why there was no blindfold here tonight. And he was staring directly at him. Bugger it! So much for obedience! Harry forced his eyes away from the view and concentrated once more on his breathing. Bloody hell but he was looking forward to the rest of the evening.
A series of soft noises came from the table to his left and then moved to his right. He strained his ears trying to guess what was causing the rustles and clinks. He hadn't heard any drawers opening and didn't remember seeing anything in the man's hands but… well easily distractible was an understatement, even at the best of times. He fought to keep his eyes closed. He was going to do this right: no peeking. Harry's mind drifted back over his previous encounters with the silent stranger. The amount of comfort he felt with this man, this silent presence was...
His arms and legs being positioned interrupted Harry's musings. No ropes, no bindings, just that gentle/firm touch letting him know he was to stay put on his own. A cool finger traced the shape of his mouth before tapping his lips in the universal sign for silence. Damn a pun in his own mind. Gods, this was so much harder than being able to relax into the ropes and blindfold. What would it be tonight? Why had Silence requested his presence specifically? Surely he hadn't infected the Dom's dreams as much as he had taken over his?
Anticipation mated with anxiety and Harry struggled to remain still, fought to keep his limbs straight and his head still. Trying to pretend that there really were soft ropes around his ankles and wrists. Telling himself again and again and again that he was here by choice that he could play without restraints that he used to like it. Breathe deeply. Breathe slowly. Breathe.
A soft touch trailed across the planes of his face, a feather. It tickled. A sharp scratch from the other end of the feather redirected his attention to soles of his feet. He jerked, almost reflexively, and stilled himself almost at once. He could do this. He would do this. He would make this man proud of him.
Scritch, scratch up one leg. Scratch, scritch spiralling down the other. The occasional brush of the softer end of the feather. Now tracing the extended lines of his arms with the feather, dipping into that ticklish spot just below his armpit. A cold wetness, ice, tracing the lines, bringing more heat to his skin's surface. A solid coldness was resting in the centre of his chest as ice cold lips claimed his mouth. Harry whimpered, even as he welcomed the kiss. Those talented fingers using the barely melted water to paint circles around his nipples.
Time passed in kisses and touches. The ice melted away. Harry felt warm, almost too warm as if his skin were about to split apart.
Something cool and soft was dragging across his chest. Little fringes, like fingers, caught at the sparse hair on his chest tugging slightly before letting go and moving on. Dropping briefly over his needy cock, like a virgin's veil. Leaving fiery trails across his hips and thighs. Between his toes and around his ankles, a hint of bondage. It all brought to mind the ropes that he longed for, something to strain against something to hold him secure against the rising tide of…
Panic.
Too much.
Not enough
Too intense.
He wasn't strong enough. He needed to be stronger. Needed to relax and enjoy these feelings, this warmth, this caring.
"H-h-h-h-h-havock," Harry's safeword fell brokenly from his lips. "Havock!"
And time… stopped and quickly restarted.
The silkiness fell away and arms dropped to encircle him, hugging him close to the strong chest, while the other reached up and repositioned his arms. Strong arms, the same arms that had brought him down from the suspension, arms that had released from the ropes and held him safely, securely as he returned to Earth.
"I can't do this. It's too hard. Not without a blindfold. Too hard. I'm sorry. So sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry…" the tears that fell were strictly those of bitter sorrow, not the bittersweet release of other nights. "So very sorry."
"Hush, Seeker. Little bird, it is all right. I am here and you are safe." The cool edge of a glass touched Harry's lips just as the words hit his ear. Mmm, cool water, just perfect. Gentle touches down his arms, fingers massaged his skull and every now and then a warm secure hug wrapped him up. "Talk to me, little bird."
"I'm so sorry. It was just… too much…Overload…." Harry tried to get the words out so that they made some sense to the man holding him so well. It was just so hard.
"Seeker, talk to me. Tell me what is going on with you." The voice was firm though not commanding. Deep and rich like the tolling of a bell it called him to continue. "I need to know. And if you want to continue with me you need to tell me."
"I just felt like I was gonna fly apart… fall into pieces without the ropes or my blindfold," there, there was the first part. He shuddered a little. The first part was supposed to be the hardest. Harry's hand reached up expecting to touch the edge of the mask that Silence had been wearing earlier. He was surprised to feel warm skin, with just a bare touch of stubble. He leaned his head back, looking up, meeting for the first time the darkest eyes ever, staring down at him. "You're real."
"Yes, Little Bird, I am real. I thought that mask may have been… Never mind that, I wanted you to see me, to know that I am really here. Why didn't you tell me you wanted a blindfold?"
Harry blushed and looked down at his hands, twisted into a knot resembling the one growing in his stomach. "Y-y-y-you had a reason for not including one tonight. I thought I could handle it. Really, I did. I wanted to so much. But then I couldn't see you even with my eyes open and it was… I didn't want to… disappoint you, sir." The tears were still falling and he fought to control them. He wanted this man's respect and his continued attention.
"Yes, I had a reason. I wanted to see your responses on your face. To learn more about what you liked and how you felt it. But I never never wanted you to feel lost or at risk."
They sat there for awhile. Watching the fake flames burn the fake logs, Silence holding Harry close and Harry feeling safe and wanted in that embrace. This was good. This was what he had been looking for; what Rayne and Amiee had someone who cared as hard as he played. He wondered what the man behind him was thinking but didn't want to break the spell long enough to ask.
"Seeker, perhaps we can meet somewhere for a more complete discussion of what we each want? What are our expectations? That is, if you want to continue to see me?"
The questions came quietly, unexpectedly. Harry turned and looked into the serious face above him. He stared and studied the face above him. "You're serious? You want to see me again? Away from here? I'd like that." Harry didn't realise that his face was glowing with happiness. "My name is Harry. Pleased to meet you."
"Hello, Harry. My friends call me Rus."
As black eyes met green, they both realised that this was a new beginning for them both
- end
Mod note: POLLS ARE NOW CLOSED. THANK YOU FOR PARTICIPATING IN THE SNARRY GAMES.