IL Fic: Cautionable Offense: Hand Ball
Aug. 23rd, 2023 02:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chibi_veneficus
Title: Cautionable Offense: Hand Ball
Rating: M
Characters: Gold Foot, Flash Kid, Gold Foot/Flash Kid
Contains: Light BDSM, Tactile Sexual Interfacing, Inappropriate Use of Sports Equipment, Dom/sub Undertones
Summary:Flash Kid deliberately handles the ball. Gold Foot doesn't protest.
Notes: an old gift for the sin bin group. Contains slight spoilers for episode 24
On AO3
“Open,” Flash Kid said, his fingers digging at the central seam of Gold Foot‘s chest.
It wasn’t fair, Gold Foot thought in some distant part of his mind as his plating obediently unlatched and folded outward. It really wasn’t fair that Flash Kid could so easily corner and open him up with a few forceful touches while looking so indifferent. Foot arched forward, expecting an immediate plunge of ungentle fingers into his wiring like every time before, craving the sensation.
It took him a moment wrapped up as he was in that anticipation to notice that Flash Kid was no longer following the script. Gold Foot cracked open an eye, annoyed at the delay, and scowled when he saw Kid staring down at his chest and not doing much else.
“What’s the hold up?” he snapped to cover a sudden spike of fear. Was Flash Kid done with him at last? Gold Foot had thought it strange that the other leaguer--as famous and popular as he was, being Dark‘s top forward--had sought him out in the first place and had continued seeking him out after that initial tryst. He honestly wouldn’t put it past Flash Kid to heat him up and then casually toss him aside. Part of him kept expecting it.
But discarding his lover apparently wasn’t what had Kid pausing. Flash Kid slowly looked up to meet his glare, confusion coloring his voice as he asked, “Is that a soccer ball?”
“What?” The non sequitur threw Gold Foot for a loop. A soccer ball? What soccer ball? Why would Kid ask--
The rack. The leftover gift from Dark’s reformatting that he had chosen to keep despite his brothers’ concerned remarks. It sat in front of his internals, crowding them aside to make room for the spherical chamber that had once held the spiked ball for combat. That weapon had been left behind in Dark’s headquarters in the scramble to catch up with Magnum Ace and Gold Mask, but a soccer ball neatly filled the hole and was preferred at any rate. He would never be caught off guard defenseless again.
But the rack was heavy and bringing an unapproved ball onto the field, even if it was in his chest, was just asking for penalties. Gold Foot had always made sure to stash it in his locker before playing.
He’d taken the rack out before practice today…right? A glance down and a peek of white and black confirmed that no, he’d forgotten to. Mortification twisted through Gold Foot’s circuits as he realized he couldn’t explain it away without revealing the nightmares that still visited him at night, and like hell he was ever going to tell Kid about those. Best to quickly get rid of the thing and continue on as if the interruption hadn’t happened.
“It’s removable, here…” His left arm was solidly pinned behind his back, but he could clumsily remove the rack one handed if he could take his other hand back from Kid. He tried to twist his wrist out of Flash Kid’s grip but Kid forcefully pinned his hand back and bodily bullied him flush against the wall. The position put pressure on his trapped arm and a thrill of excitement shot through him at the pain.
“Hold still,” Flash Kid growled and roughly palmed his free hand from Foot’s waist up to rest on the soccer ball, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. A thoughtful expression crossed his face which morphed into a smirk that set Gold Foot’s oil to burning. Gold Foot couldn’t see it, but he could feel Kid repositioning his hand on the ball to more firmly grip it.
“What’ll happen if I do this, I wonder?” Flash Kid pressed down hard and pleasure hit Gold Foot like a punch to the gut. Tile cracked under his head as it slammed backwards, and a moan escaped him before he could hold it in. He’d known that the cup base and plunger held more tactile sensors than the entirety of the rack’s front, but never would have guessed they were this sensitive. His whole body felt lit with sensation from that one area of contact alone.
He writhed in Kid’s hold as Kid manipulated the ball back and forth, side to side in its cup. The smooth outer covering of the soccer ball rubbed the entirety of the chamber, stimulating all the sensors without pause, and the edges of the stitch length caught delicately on the plunger’s head at the back when it passed by. Heat rapidly built in his internals, making him desperately pant for cooler air in-between incoherent mumbles that were definitely not stifled pleas for more.
The ball was pressed harder still, pain beginning to edge in with the pleasure, and Foot’s legs stopped supporting him. It was only Flash Kid’s body pressing into his that kept him from collapsing, hips grinding forward to keep him upright against the wall. Flash Kid twisted the ball in a fast circle and chuckled as Foot tried to push into the motion.
The heated air from their vents mingled together and made their corner of the showers sweltering. Condensation fogged up the outer lens of Foot’s eyes, and blinking made the water trail down his cheeks. Kid leaned in with an interested hum, his hand slowing as it was compressed between their chests, and said, “That’s a good expression.”
Gold Foot turned away, mouth contorting into a grimace, abruptly embarrassed by what he must look like, but the glorious pressure on his chest disappeared and its sudden absence made him sob. A hand seized his chin and forced his face frontward.
“Open your eyes,” Flash Kid demanded. Foot didn’t know he had closed them and wasn’t so sure he could open them again, but the grip on his chin tightened in warning and he managed to open them a crack. Heat burned through his systems anew at the hungry look Flash Kid gave him. Kid squeezed hard one more time before releasing him and commanding, “Keep them on me.”
The pressure returned, and even though he had an idea of what to expect, it was still a shock to feel it again. The short pause had done next to nothing to alleviate the charge in his systems and he was immediately squirming in Flash Kid’s grip again. Gold Foot could do nothing but savor the pleasure igniting in his circuits. Steam hissed out of his vents as components began to redline and sharp bites of static electricity snapped from his plating to Kid‘s as the other leaguer mercilessly played with the ball.
Foot was sure he was going to explode; his body couldn’t possibly handle this much sheer sensation without something breaking. Kid didn’t let up on the ball, using the palm of his hand to press it down with crushing force, turning it slow one way, fast another, all the while making sure to keep their eyes locked, and it was almost a relief when safety programs finally triggered. Gold Foot cried out as his charge crested and safeties sent electricity discharging across his frame in search of ground points, and went completely limp in Kid’s hold as he underwent a soft reboot.
He came to seated on the floor, Flash Kid carefully moving his numb left arm out from behind his back. It must have been the aftershocks still sparking in his wires messing with his visual feed but the hard planes of Kid’s face looked almost soft as he rubbed the joints to help stave off soreness. Gold Foot floated in a pleasant haze, trying not to think and just enjoy the quiet attention.
Hands wiping away the water tracks on his face brought him back to the present. Kid‘s face was back to its usual stern countenance and when he spoke his tone was gruff.
“Alright?”
“Yeah,” Gold Foot answered, though static clung to the word.
“Good.” Flash Kid moved from kneeling next to him to straddling his thighs, finger tapping impatiently on the rack.
“Take that out and unspool your cable,” he said, a dangerous grin lighting across his face. “I‘m not done with you yet.”
Rating: M
Characters: Gold Foot, Flash Kid, Gold Foot/Flash Kid
Contains: Light BDSM, Tactile Sexual Interfacing, Inappropriate Use of Sports Equipment, Dom/sub Undertones
Summary:Flash Kid deliberately handles the ball. Gold Foot doesn't protest.
Notes: an old gift for the sin bin group. Contains slight spoilers for episode 24
On AO3
“Open,” Flash Kid said, his fingers digging at the central seam of Gold Foot‘s chest.
It wasn’t fair, Gold Foot thought in some distant part of his mind as his plating obediently unlatched and folded outward. It really wasn’t fair that Flash Kid could so easily corner and open him up with a few forceful touches while looking so indifferent. Foot arched forward, expecting an immediate plunge of ungentle fingers into his wiring like every time before, craving the sensation.
It took him a moment wrapped up as he was in that anticipation to notice that Flash Kid was no longer following the script. Gold Foot cracked open an eye, annoyed at the delay, and scowled when he saw Kid staring down at his chest and not doing much else.
“What’s the hold up?” he snapped to cover a sudden spike of fear. Was Flash Kid done with him at last? Gold Foot had thought it strange that the other leaguer--as famous and popular as he was, being Dark‘s top forward--had sought him out in the first place and had continued seeking him out after that initial tryst. He honestly wouldn’t put it past Flash Kid to heat him up and then casually toss him aside. Part of him kept expecting it.
But discarding his lover apparently wasn’t what had Kid pausing. Flash Kid slowly looked up to meet his glare, confusion coloring his voice as he asked, “Is that a soccer ball?”
“What?” The non sequitur threw Gold Foot for a loop. A soccer ball? What soccer ball? Why would Kid ask--
The rack. The leftover gift from Dark’s reformatting that he had chosen to keep despite his brothers’ concerned remarks. It sat in front of his internals, crowding them aside to make room for the spherical chamber that had once held the spiked ball for combat. That weapon had been left behind in Dark’s headquarters in the scramble to catch up with Magnum Ace and Gold Mask, but a soccer ball neatly filled the hole and was preferred at any rate. He would never be caught off guard defenseless again.
But the rack was heavy and bringing an unapproved ball onto the field, even if it was in his chest, was just asking for penalties. Gold Foot had always made sure to stash it in his locker before playing.
He’d taken the rack out before practice today…right? A glance down and a peek of white and black confirmed that no, he’d forgotten to. Mortification twisted through Gold Foot’s circuits as he realized he couldn’t explain it away without revealing the nightmares that still visited him at night, and like hell he was ever going to tell Kid about those. Best to quickly get rid of the thing and continue on as if the interruption hadn’t happened.
“It’s removable, here…” His left arm was solidly pinned behind his back, but he could clumsily remove the rack one handed if he could take his other hand back from Kid. He tried to twist his wrist out of Flash Kid’s grip but Kid forcefully pinned his hand back and bodily bullied him flush against the wall. The position put pressure on his trapped arm and a thrill of excitement shot through him at the pain.
“Hold still,” Flash Kid growled and roughly palmed his free hand from Foot’s waist up to rest on the soccer ball, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. A thoughtful expression crossed his face which morphed into a smirk that set Gold Foot’s oil to burning. Gold Foot couldn’t see it, but he could feel Kid repositioning his hand on the ball to more firmly grip it.
“What’ll happen if I do this, I wonder?” Flash Kid pressed down hard and pleasure hit Gold Foot like a punch to the gut. Tile cracked under his head as it slammed backwards, and a moan escaped him before he could hold it in. He’d known that the cup base and plunger held more tactile sensors than the entirety of the rack’s front, but never would have guessed they were this sensitive. His whole body felt lit with sensation from that one area of contact alone.
He writhed in Kid’s hold as Kid manipulated the ball back and forth, side to side in its cup. The smooth outer covering of the soccer ball rubbed the entirety of the chamber, stimulating all the sensors without pause, and the edges of the stitch length caught delicately on the plunger’s head at the back when it passed by. Heat rapidly built in his internals, making him desperately pant for cooler air in-between incoherent mumbles that were definitely not stifled pleas for more.
The ball was pressed harder still, pain beginning to edge in with the pleasure, and Foot’s legs stopped supporting him. It was only Flash Kid’s body pressing into his that kept him from collapsing, hips grinding forward to keep him upright against the wall. Flash Kid twisted the ball in a fast circle and chuckled as Foot tried to push into the motion.
The heated air from their vents mingled together and made their corner of the showers sweltering. Condensation fogged up the outer lens of Foot’s eyes, and blinking made the water trail down his cheeks. Kid leaned in with an interested hum, his hand slowing as it was compressed between their chests, and said, “That’s a good expression.”
Gold Foot turned away, mouth contorting into a grimace, abruptly embarrassed by what he must look like, but the glorious pressure on his chest disappeared and its sudden absence made him sob. A hand seized his chin and forced his face frontward.
“Open your eyes,” Flash Kid demanded. Foot didn’t know he had closed them and wasn’t so sure he could open them again, but the grip on his chin tightened in warning and he managed to open them a crack. Heat burned through his systems anew at the hungry look Flash Kid gave him. Kid squeezed hard one more time before releasing him and commanding, “Keep them on me.”
The pressure returned, and even though he had an idea of what to expect, it was still a shock to feel it again. The short pause had done next to nothing to alleviate the charge in his systems and he was immediately squirming in Flash Kid’s grip again. Gold Foot could do nothing but savor the pleasure igniting in his circuits. Steam hissed out of his vents as components began to redline and sharp bites of static electricity snapped from his plating to Kid‘s as the other leaguer mercilessly played with the ball.
Foot was sure he was going to explode; his body couldn’t possibly handle this much sheer sensation without something breaking. Kid didn’t let up on the ball, using the palm of his hand to press it down with crushing force, turning it slow one way, fast another, all the while making sure to keep their eyes locked, and it was almost a relief when safety programs finally triggered. Gold Foot cried out as his charge crested and safeties sent electricity discharging across his frame in search of ground points, and went completely limp in Kid’s hold as he underwent a soft reboot.
He came to seated on the floor, Flash Kid carefully moving his numb left arm out from behind his back. It must have been the aftershocks still sparking in his wires messing with his visual feed but the hard planes of Kid’s face looked almost soft as he rubbed the joints to help stave off soreness. Gold Foot floated in a pleasant haze, trying not to think and just enjoy the quiet attention.
Hands wiping away the water tracks on his face brought him back to the present. Kid‘s face was back to its usual stern countenance and when he spoke his tone was gruff.
“Alright?”
“Yeah,” Gold Foot answered, though static clung to the word.
“Good.” Flash Kid moved from kneeling next to him to straddling his thighs, finger tapping impatiently on the rack.
“Take that out and unspool your cable,” he said, a dangerous grin lighting across his face. “I‘m not done with you yet.”
