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Apple Cameron
"Speculation"
Blake's 7
mm, Blake/Avon
no spoilers (vague S1/S2)
Explicit, of the PWP variety.



"Do you know what I'd do if I had you to myself for a tenday?" He accompanied the question with an assault on Avon's earlobe, caressing him with hot breath while one hand cupped his groin firmly. The others were on planet for several more hours.

"You'd think of something, I expect." Avon's equanimity was almost entirely bravado at this point, surely, they'd been teasing each other for ages now, on the couch on the flight deck, but neither was ready to break and suggest they retire to a cabin. Two men of equal pride, shields worn thin with each other due to constant friction.

"I'd hide all your clothes and make you my slave," he whispered in Avon's ear and they both felt a jolt go through them. "I'd take you somewhere that's just we two. You'd spend your time on your knees, serving me with that perfect mouth of yours." He licked at Avon's pulse point, then nipped his earlobe and continued, murmuring into Avon's hair. "Better, I'd burn them in a great fire, that first night. And I'd take you on all fours while you watched them burn."

That perfect mouth was open, aching to be plundered, so Blake obliged. They lost track of time for a while, hands and mouths shuddering.

There was nothing he liked more than to see Avon surrendered to their lovemaking, to see the fire in him fully roused. It would consume them both if they weren't careful. But the sight of the other man made defenceless by desire, openly admitting how much he wanted Blake's touch, only made him want Avon's touch even more in return. Like tossing accelerant on flames.

"Would you be satisfied with only a tenday?" came the enquiry when cooler heads were once more prevailing.

"Momentarily replete, perhaps." They wound along a downward spiral together, bodies, mouths, minds meeting.

At some point Avon surfaced. "While enticing...your plan overlooks certain factors."

Blake tucked a strand of hair behind Avon's ear, brushing his cheek, then lips, with his fingers as he leaned back. "Such as?"

"I might get cold with no clothing." Sly smile winked at him as Avon held Blake's face to his own. "Far better to just teleport them into space and watch them tumble on visual." The kiss to punctuate the image was a long one. Avon whispered further, "then you could take me right here on the flight deck while you watch," he drew the words out, shaping them seductively, "in perfect comfort."

Both men's gaze was drawn to Liberator's visual display, as if it showed a bundle of trousers and tunics already, chilling and twisting in the vacuum of space. The air nearly vibrated between them when Blake turned his attention back.

Avon's expression was predatory, now. He reached up to take Blake's curls into a loose fist and pull him close, grinding their bodies together. "You could lock all the doors and take me in every public space on this ship." He gritted out.

"Nowhere to hide." Blake's cock was the hardest it had ever felt in his life, pressed between them.

"Nowhere to hide from you." Their kisses were becoming even more frantic, each goading the other. Avon's hand snaked between them and rubbed him through fabric until Blake rolled them onto the floor of the flight deck, himself on top, pinning Avon's hands away from their bodies. But that didn't stop his voice. "You could take me in the corridors, the computer centre, flesh in constant contact..."

"Yes...with the lights always on full so I could see every moment, so I could see your face." Thrust against him, lost in the web of words they made together.

"Hear every sigh." Avon whispered back, eyes dilated.

"Record you, even, and make you listen to yourself later. Avon--" Whatever he was going to say next was gone in a delirious explosion of pleasure.

When his mind was again capable of rational thought - semi-rational, as Avon would have put it, no doubt - he found himself draped over Avon, arms having given out, his head cradled in one hand.

They kissed, Blake's tongue a gentle probe that Avon took greedily. "Mmm. That was nice."

"Your trousers have seen better. Perhaps you should teleport them into space." That sly smile was back, but with an edge of need to it Blake recognized.

"I should make you come in yours," he said matter-of-factly, raising up on arms still a little unsteady. Instead he unfastened Avon's tunic, then his trousers, and took his rigid shaft into his mouth, prompting the low moan of a man long desperate for release. Then withdrew and sat back on Avon's legs, careful not to put his full weight on the man's knees.

Avon looked his most edible, chest pale with a light dusting of dark hair as decoration, hair mussed, lips swollen and parted. Pinned in place. And quite obviously in need of relief.

"I want to hear you, always." Blake admitted. "And for far more than just a tenday."

He didn't take his eyes off Avon's face, whose eyes widened at the confession. "Blake," he said softly, achingly, one hand reaching out for his thigh.

"Zen. Record." Blake bent to his task.

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