Actions

Work Header

An Unorthodox Medical

Summary:

Price and Nik fuck in Price's office after an (in)opportune twinge of an old injury.

Notes:

I transed your Price and I'll do it again; I can't be stopped! [Terminology: cunt, cock].

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 

Old injuries rearing their ugly mugs at inopportune times was nothing new. As you aged through the service, it took chunks of you with it and Price's body was riddled with scars, dodgy nerves and aching joints. A particularly bad landing had left his back in a state some years ago, but it had been nothing a few rounds of physio and some leave hadn't fixed… or so he’d thought.

It was easy to disregard medical’s advice when you were younger. Everything seemed to bounce back in your twenties with no harm done. But despite warnings from senior colleagues who had experienced much the same, Price had let the physio and stretching lapse, because he had more important bloody things to do in the evenings than perfect his downward dog. His arrogance came back to haunt him as he leaned over a map of urban sprawl with Nikolai, trying to pick a safe spot for Nik’s heli to land.

“Safest exfil spots are here, here and–christ.”

Nik hummed, mildly amused at first. “I am not sure he will be much of an asset for this–Price?” 

Price knew he looked a prize twat slumped on the map on one elbow, the other hand flailing to try and get to the point in his back that felt like someone had jammed a Bowie knife between his vertebrae. He scrambled at the map, scrunching it between his fingers in search of purchase as the pain punched the air from his lungs. “It’s–ahh, fuck,” he wheezed, his face flushing red with embarrassment.

“Jonathan,” Nik said, softer, concerned, and if that didn't just make it worse. The big Russian circled the table and placed his hands at Price’s waist to steady him as he flailed, clearly ascertaining said flails were making it worse. “Tell me what to do. It hurts, where?”

Price drew in deep breaths through his nose, shoulders hunched over. He tried not to think about the giant bear paws settled so carefully at his waist, nor the way Nik’s crotch lined up perfectly with his backside because that was an entirely normal bloody thing to be thinking about when your back was doing a good imitation of a London back alley stabbing. 

There was a clear choice: huff and puff his way through it in hopes the nerve or whatever the fuck it was eased itself, or let Nik assist and get back to work, feathers only mildly ruffled. Price took another steadying breath. “It's… lumber, uh… lower back, betw–mmph, between L1 and… an, L3 to the right, just…”

One of Nik’s hands moved from Price’s waist, tugging his shirt free from his trousers so a warm palm could reach his skin. “Here?” 

“A little out to the right, up… ah, there… yeah.” Price’s shoulders slumped as Nik found the spot. The pain was acute at first, Price’s teeth and fists clenching as Nik worked it over, and then it dulled into a deeper ache; the low, throbbing relief of a splinter removed from the skin. Price’s heart, which had been trying to hammer free of his chest, settled. Nik’s pressure was perfect, his other hand on Price's hip, steadying him, occasionally circled in a brief caress. To reach properly Nik had to press close, and in the comfortable lull of relief, Price’s body started to respond; a building heat beneath his skin, a coiled tension in his hips. Shit, shit.

“Is good?” Nik asked, his voice still soft, patient. 

But Price could hear something else there; a wry amusement. “This isn't bloody funny, Nik.” Ruffled, Price scowled into his forearms, but was privately glad his bluster didn't cause the pressure to cease. If anything, Nik branched out, rubbing at the rest of Price's back in a wide arc, and chuckled. Bloody chuckled. A deep, hearty noise that made that tension twist a little tighter in Price’s groin.

“It's just… this was not how I pictured bending you over for the first time, you know. There was… uhm, more beer involved. Perhaps a… date.”

Price’s face turned the shade of a commie’s flag and he choked on his next breath. The rest of his body, rather unhelpfully, warmed with pleasure at the thought of it. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Deadly,” Nik replied, without missing a beat. “You are an attractive man. I think of you very… well, hmm, highly. But you are… difficult to reach. Private, hm?”

Nik enjoyed touching him, Price realised. He could feel it in the reverence of Nik’s hand as it glided in firm circles around his back. He returned in passes to the sore spot, but now he seemed to be savouring what he could, lingering at Price’s ribs, in the valley of his spine, following the curves of each flexed muscle and leaving goosebumps in his wake. Price knew he should do something, say something, put a stop to it before it could escalate… but he didn't want to. Bloody hell, he didn't want to.

A soft haze had settled over his mind, calmed by the strength in the large palms soothing away his pain and the warm timber in Nik’s voice. Fuck it, he was wet too, why even try to lie to himself? This was the most someone had touched him beyond a physical in years. If anyone walked in now… their superior officer bent over a damn map table, his hips tilted just to feel Nik bump against his… christ. Small bloody mercies that they were all off base for the moment. “Mmm. Nik, I…”

“You have not pushed me away, I am glad.”

“Why would I do that? Your hands feel like fucking god…”

Nik chuckled again, squeezing gently just about Price’s hips in what was undeniably an affectionate way, before moving up. “You are a joy, John Price.” Nik paused where his thumbs had been working over the expanse of Price's shoulder blades, like he was weighing something up. “I would like to show you what else they can do, and… other things.”

This was the turning point. If Price said no now, he knew Nik would honour it and they could return to the map. What they were actually here for at some godforsaken bloody hour. The mission was a few days away. They had time. Price couldn't quite believe his mind was talking him into… he wasn't sure what, but he wanted it. Wanted it bad. He just needed Nik to keep touching him, and talking like he was the prettiest damn thing in the world. “I’d like that.”

Nik’s breath hitched and his hands paused. A small victory, but it didn't last. He continued his leisurely, firm massage down to Price’s waistband with a soft hum, resuming command of the situation as naturally as if they sat in the cockpit of his heli. “Your back.. is better?”

“Mm, feels solid.” Only a small lie. There was an ice pack and a pack of ibuprofen in his future. 

“Good…”

Nik’s hands swept gently around Price’s waist to his belly, stroking up to his chest where Nik raked blunt nails through the fur there. “Ya tebya hochu,” he growled, and Price wasn't fucking sure what he’d said, but it sounded hungry. Nik guided Price up gently, hesitant perhaps in case he jarred his back, and Price looked down to watch those big hands explore the curves and valleys of his torso as the first kiss pressed to his neck. It was like electric over his skin, which seemed apt considering the storm of arousal brewing in his damned boxers. Fuck this was too good.

“You are… eager,” Nik said, a little awed, as his palms stroked over Price’s hard nipples.

“You have no idea… ahh.” Price pressed back against the strong body behind him and tilted his head to press his face into Nik’s stubble, curling a hand up to slide into his hair. Nik smelled of faded cologne and clean sweat, the motor oil from his earlier maintenance run, the leather of his brown jacket; Price pressed his nose into warm skin and breathed him in like he was oxygen on a deep dive, pressure coiling tighter in his gut. He hadn’t realised how starved he was of basic human contact, every fiber of him wanted to crawl inside Nik’s skin, to sink his teeth in, burrow away until he was completely consumed by Russian bear.

As if sensing Price’s building desperation, one of Nik’s hands slid down, following the trail of hair at the centre of Price’s stomach, hitching over the buckle of his belt, to settle between his legs. He hummed low in his throat, his other big paw grasping beneath Price’s chin to hold his face close as he teased. 

With the same firm pressure that had relieved the pain in Price’s back, he now stroked Price’s cunt, finding his engorged cock through the material of his trousers and boxers with a pleased hum. Price moaned, louder in the room than he intended, and gripped the wrist of that wandering hand as an anchor point. Nik seemed to like it. He muttered something in Russian again, pressing his hips into Price’s backside so he could feel the firm bulge at the front of his jeans.

“I would take you here, I…” Nik whispered, voice thick, pressing another kiss to Price's neck. “I am desperate for you.”

It was fucking stupid; in his office, the door unlocked, but Price’s head was full of Nikolai and need and not much else. His hips were twitching into the hand massaging in slow, deliberate circles between his legs, sure he would come fully clothed if Nik kept going. Another kiss, another soft phrase uttered in Russian, a squeeze of his jaw and throat beneath the big paw that held him in place to remind him of his surrender, and Price murmured. “Yeah. Here. Now.”

Nik growled, possessive, delighted, and nipped another kiss into the soft skin beneath Price’s ear. Price lost the hand teasing him for a moment as it tugged his belt off and undid his fly, and Price watched it happen as his boots scrambled for purchase against the floor. Nik licked his fingers leisurely, the wet sound of it making Price’s knees go weak with anticipation, before sliding into Price's boxers without more preamble; Nik knew what he wanted.

The first touch was euphoric; a gentle stroke over his hard cock, curious and appreciative. Nik lingered there, pads of his fingers passing over it, enjoying the eager hardness, before stroking up and down its length with finger and thumb in a way that made Price stutter and whimper in surprised pleasure. When Price jolted, Nik held his chin a little firmer, lifting him against his chest to keep him off balance. The bastard loved having Price at his mercy and he was keeping him that way apparently. Price couldn't find it in him to fuss over his lack of control; yielding to Nik’s lead felt… good.

Price made a strangled noise in his throat as Nik's fingers left his cock and delved into the wet, eager folds of his cunt like it belonged to him. Price knew he was soaking but the sounds of Nik’s exploration were fucking obscene, the pleasure swelling through Price’s hips as Nik experimented with different pressures and movements to find what made Price noisiest. From soft gasps to decadent moans when Nik found the combination that worked; a slow, easy glide from cock to hole that hit every nerve ending.

Nik paused only to shove Price’s trousers a little lower down his thighs, freeing his hand from their constraint and making Price feel a damn sight more exposed, barely able to stand on tiptoes the way Nik was holding him. Now that Nik had secured his captain, he wasn't going anywhere, pinned to Nik’s broad chest as strong fingers teased him relentlessly to his peak. “Mm, so wet, perfect…” Nik whispered, slowly stroking his thumb down Price’s cock while a finger slipped gently inside. It couldn't go far at this angle, but it was enough to push Price closer to the brink. 

“Nik, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna…” Price growled, clenching down on Nik’s finger as it teased his sensitive opening, collecting more of his slick before returning to his cock. “Please, faster, fucking–”

“Bistreye?”

“Nik!”

Another low chuckle. “Ya skhozhu po tebe s uma…”

“Ahh, fu-fuck.” 

Nik’s touch was perfect, massaging the flats of his fingers in swift circles, pinning Price's body to him so that he couldn’t buck away and lessen the intensity. Nik was playing Price like an instrument, soft chuckles of joy and amusement bursting free between adoring kisses against Price’s neck, encouraging him towards his peak in soft whispers that melted in and out of English like the ebb of a tide.

Price’s orgasm spread through him in a heady rush, an irresistible heat from the tips of Nik’s fingers that left him breathless and wound taut. He tried to close his thighs but Nik kept his hand there, slowing, gentling, so that Price could enjoy the aftershocks without overstimulation, yet still forced to endure the full extent of his pleasure at Nik’s hand. 

As his shudders calmed, gasped breaths abating, Nik let Price slump forward on shaking legs, his elbows braced over the map. Price looked over his shoulder just in time to see Nik slide his wet fingers into his mouth, those dark eyes closed as he savoured Price’s taste with a guttural moan. Price let out a shaky breath and rested his forehead on the table, unable to cope with the sight, or what if did to him, too long and still keep his balance. Fuck, fuck. “Nik…”

In the next breath, Price heard the click and clatter of Nik’s belt and watched it coil on the table by his elbow; he stared at it for a long moment, the reality of what he'd asked for catching up in the afterglow. Nik’s hand returned to his naked hip, stroking, asking. Price huffed an incredulous laugh; a bark of breath as his head fell between his shoulders. In for a penny in for a pound, right? “Yeah,” he said, sliding one booted foot further out as he presented himself for Nik’s attention. “Yeah. Here.” 

Nik growled in excited pleasure, like that damned Russian bear he so reminded Price of, and Price couldn't help the dizzy, stupid grin on his mug. It faltered into open mouthed awe when he felt Nik’s finger again, sliding over his cunt from behind before dipping into his hole in a deeper thrust. “You're so relaxed,” Nik said, clearly enraptured by the sight of Price’s body sucking so eagerly at his fingers, even when he added a second.

“Cause I want you… want this,” Price replied, surprised by how hoarse and fucked out his voice already sounded. He'd never understood the ‘tight’ shit in porno. Tight meant reluctant in his book; one partner hadn't done enough to work up the other, or worse. This… this felt a hundred times fucking better. Nik seemed to agree, because as his fingers withdrew, the very next thing that pressed against Price was the large head of his cock. It rubbed through his folds, and Price ducked his head to watch it slide beneath his own eager prick, dripping in precum and glistening with his slick.

Nik moaned, uttering another slew of Russian as he thrust lazily against Price's cunt. He wasn't in any rush and Price was content to let him tease himself into a furor, eyes sliding shut as sparks of pleasure marked his progress. Nik was thick, and long, and Price’s body throbbed in desperate anticipation of what it would feel like splitting him open. He dropped a hand between his legs to feel the velvet-clad iron of it; the soft underside gliding over his palm as Price pressed it against his cunt, the hint of heavy balls nudging against his fingertips. “C’mon, Nik. C’mon.”

“Mmm, I love it when you beg.” Nik rested a palm on Price’s back as he pressed the fat head of his cock to his hole, exerting only enough pressure for his glans to notch in twitching muscle. “You are… exactly as I dreamed.”

Price breathed out as Nik sank into him, his walls fluttering and clutching with pleasure as every successive inch opened him up. Price dragged his nails across the desk, tearing at the edges of the map, and it took all his self discipline to not collapse forward and whimper in surrender. It had been… a while, and relaxed as he was, there was nothing quite like being filled to the brim by a generously sized prick. The feeling of fullness, of warmth, of struggling to breathe around the intensity of it, two strong hands on his hips to hold him in place. Unmatched.

“Oh, John…” Nik breathed, speech a little slurred. Drunk on me, Price’s fucked out brain offered. It was his last sane thought before Nik began to rock his hips. He moaned into his forearms, tasting his own damp skin as he tried to muffle his noise. Nik’s hand slid up Price’s spine to bury in his hair, tugging lightly until Price lifted his face. “Nyet, let me hear, John. Please.”

Price obliged because he could do nothing but gift his body to Nik's demands. Every thrust made his toes curl in his boots, Nik’s thick cock imprinting itself inside him, the obscenely wet sounds of each slap of skin filling the room as Price’s arousal and desire crested. The angle was perfect, Nik’s firm hand dropping to Price’s shoulder to keep him arched just so from the table, pulling him back to meet his hips.

Nik kept the pace measured at first, trying to long out his first taste of Price’s body but he quickened as his own desperation took hold. He gripped tighter at Price’s hip, his other leaving Price’s back to plant on the table for purchase. Price watched as strong fingers curled against the wood grain, accompanied by reverent mutterings that flowed in and out of Russian and English, like Nik wanted to express his adoration in a way that Price could understand but the primal part of his mind could only muster his default. 

To have someone so lost in him was a heady kind of power, and Price might feel emboldened by it, if his own brain hadn't been metaphorically melting with the searing pleasure of Nik’s cock and the overwhelming weight of him keeping Price pinned to the table. Price followed orders, he didn't muffle his whimpers and grunts, building towards another peak without even touching his cock under the relentless precision of Nik’s over the sweet spot inside him. Nik let out a pleased snarl when Price finally clenched around him in fitful stutters, fingers tearing the edge of the map, his sweat-slicked forehead pressed down in helpless ecstasy. 

Nik pulled out just as Price’s aftershocks began to plateau into a more stable pleasure, but Price didn't have a chance to complain. He was turned, his arse lifted onto the edge of the table as Nik wrenched off his boots, trousers and boxers with unapologetic urgency. Price got his first proper look at that majestic prick against the rest of Nik, and felt his chest jitter. Thick and long had been right, with a slight upward curve and a dark thatch of hair at the base, soaked with Price’s slick and come. Nik had lifted his shirt out of the way, and it sat shucked halfway up his abdomen; there were no chiselled abs, but an attractive plushness that made Price’s mouth water at the thought of rubbing his face into the hair there. Later, he'd do it later, when Nik was naked in his bed. Price would allow himself that indulgence.

Nik kicked Price’s boots out the way and stepped back between his thighs. Price latched onto the table, but Nik gentled him with a soft kiss. “Relax, John… trust me, I will not drop you,” he whispered to Price's lips. And Price did trust him. Trusted him to save their arses in a bind, to kill, kidnap and maim at his request, to always be there when he was most needed, no questions asked. Trusting him with his body in this way felt as natural as breathing, Price realised. 

Those big hands scooped around him to bring him to the edge and then planted behind his knees to spread him wide. Those dark eyes watched Price for pain, tuned in and attentive even through his haze of lust. Price looked up to Nik's face and saw that very same hunger again, inspecting Price’s face and apparently liking what it found. 

“Watch me take you,” Nik demanded, and Price looked down as Nik guided his thick cock back into the eager clutch of his cunt, choking out a gasp even as it felt like Nik was jostling his lungs for space. Like Nik was leaving his mark inside him. Price accepted the deep, possessive kiss that followed as Nik bottomed out, buried as close to the hilt as he could. Nothing quite like a considerate lover… fuck, of course he was. Strong hands slid down the backs of his thighs to cup his arse, leaving Price’s legs to hook over his forearms.

Price soon realised why Nik wanted him like this. He wanted to watch Price fall apart, to savour every squeak, moan and pant he coaxed out of Price’s chest, but it wasn't one-sided. Price got to see it all in Nik’s face too. The open-mouthed wonder, the misty eyes with wide pupils that looked at Price with unabashed adoration. Price threw an arm around Nik’s shoulders, clinging on for dear fucking life, as he slipped a hand between them to touch his own cock. Nik pressed kisses into the scruff of his beard, occasionally his lips as if he could taste the moans he coaxed, but he always returned to Price’s eyes to consume what he found there, and Price couldn't look away. 

No one in his life had ever looked at him like that. 

Like he had hung the bloody sun, like he was all their dreams come true at once. 

Overwrought, every nerve ending tingling with sensitivity, Price couldn’t contain the broken noises escaping his throat nor control the way his body came in a flood of wetness over Nik’s cock when his third orgasm licked up his spine and unfurled through every limb. He might have sworn and snarled, his teeth biting at Nik’s shoulder at the sheer intensity of it; his vision whited, the pleasure bordering on pain.

Nik’s hips stuttered before grinding in deep as he came, shoved over the brink by the sight of his lover unspooling, both hands cupping Price’s arse to pull him close as he pumped him full. Nik nudged Price’s chin up with his nose and kissed him deeply again as his cock pulsed in the aftershocks, buried deep in the clutch of Price’s body. Price slumped against the barrelled chest in front of him when he was allowed breath, wrapped his legs around Nik’s waist and pressed a heel into Nik’s backside, drawing him yet closer, like if he pulled hard enough they could really merge into one.

They stood wrapped in each other until Nik’s cock softened to the brink of discomfort. He pulled away reluctantly, nipping kisses into the scruff of Price’s beard, as he guided Price's legs down. Price was grateful; he felt shakier than a newborn fawn.

“We need to get cleaned up,” Nik said softly, his hands resting on Price's hips as he nosed his sweaty neck and shoulders, riddled with his love bites.

“My room. We can use the en suite.” Price thanked whatever god still took an interest in him for Captain’s privilege. The walk of shame to communal showers would have been too much. 

“Hmm. Sounds good.” Nik tucked his cock away and slid his belt back into place and, despite the bitemarks and nail scratches on his neck that Price had managed to return, the sweat and the ruffled hair, looked relatively normal. Bastard.

They left the wrecked map behind and headed to the safety and quiet of Price’s quarters. While Price might have thought his shower would be solo, Nik quickly disabused him of that idea by crowding him into the cubicle and using the opportunity to explore his body further, hands and lips consuming everything they could reach. 

They slept together in Price’s narrow cot that night. Nik found Price's first aid kick and ensured there was a heat pack on his back for a few hours, stroking through Price's hair in the comfortable quiet of their afterglow. Price woke to soft, groggy kisses and a cheeky entreaty for more sex… if his back was up for it. As Nik nudged his thigh forward and pressed inside him from behind, wrapping Price in his arms for the tenderest fuck he had ever experienced in his thirty-seven years on this earth, Price couldn't help but wonder what the fuck had taken him so long.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are very welcome; they give me hope and motivation to write more, for I am but a simple hobby author. For more short stories, fanart, headcanons and the very occasional meta post, I can be found @on-a-lucky-tide.

Series this work belongs to: