Bored

Part 3.

"Fun? Hell yes, brother," Loz grinned, reaching for the offered beer, liking the prompt, in-spa service. Belatedly recalling that Yazoo wasn't actually his own personal slave and didn't /have/ to do any of this, he added gratefully, "Thanks, man."

After Loz had taken the frosty glass bottle from him, Yazoo went to pull his hand back but Loz suddenly stopped him, curling the strong fingers of his non-dominant hand around his middle sibling's slim wrist. Loz glanced up. His longer-haired brother had paused mid-bend, face showing no expression behind that sweeping curtain of silver. If he was wondering what Loz was doing, he did not ask. He simply stayed like that, half-leaning forward in Loz's direction, waiting wordlessly, like he always did, watching with guarded green eyes to see what would happen next.

Since Yazoo wasn't pulling away, Loz turned back to what he held in his grasp. Yazoo's hand was bare, the glove removed when he first entered the hotel room, his skin soft and pure beneath the black leather that always protected it. Underneath Yazoo's wrist Loz could feel a pulse, slow and steady, betraying no change in emotion. Blue veins showed under translucent alabaster skin, pulsing with life-force, but they weren't what he was looking at. When Yazoo lifted the bottle to his lips and took a sip Loz's keen sense of observation had noticed the dribble of beer foam that had overflowed and trickled down his brother's slimly feminine fingers, triggering a memory of another time when white stuff had been spilled onto his hand; a secret, furtively rushed time they don't ever talk about, even though Loz sometimes wished they would. The memory was months old but it struck him as if it had only happened yesterday, the sight something Loz could not ignore or drag his eyes away from, his pupils narrowed in aroused concentration upon the foamy trail running down Yazoo's knuckles and fingers.

He wanted to lick that trail away.

And as the leader, that's exactly what he was going to do. At least, that was the plan. Like all plans, it could quickly go awry if Yazoo didn't co-operate or allow him to do what he wanted but Loz could only try, couldn't he? Giving Yazoo plenty of time to resist, the older brother gradually brought that ungloved hand up to his mouth. When it was not yanked out of his firm but gentle grip, he tentatively grazed his lips over those long pale fingers. They were cool against his mouth, and wet. He waited for a response - good or bad - but didn't get any. Yazoo's hands were slim and graceful, like a woman's, but he could easily kill and maim with them and Loz knew if he wasn't careful or overstepped his bounds, he could end up getting hit in the face and something could get broken.

Namely, his nose.

It wouldn't be the first time Yazoo had busted a part of his bone structure but that usually happened during training and Loz didn't want this quiet, still, strangely submissive moment to be ruined by him gushing blood into the bubbling spa and turning the water red. Not that he thought Yazoo would actually get pissed - he never really did, not unless you insulted Mother - but it was better to be safe than sorry so when he brought out his tongue it was slowly and carefully. When the tip of it connected with Yazoo's fingers a coil of excitement began in Loz's belly, enhanced by Yazoo's apparent willingness to let this happen. The sweet, bitter taste of beer spread into his mouth as he sensually licked up over his brother's knuckles in one continuous line, catching the foam-trail and erasing it with his tongue, the action seeming a lot more erotic than it actually was. He repeated the motion, making sure he got in between each of Yazoo's fingers, knowing how sticky beer could get if it dried. Probing between those slim digits with his tongue was way more arousing than it perhaps should have been and that coil in his belly tightened, along with another part of him down further.

Or maybe it was the effect of the hot water jetting onto his flesh, stimulating and relaxing him at the same time. Whatever it was, this felt too nice and he didn't want it to end.

There was now nothing left for him to lick up but Loz couldn't bring himself to let Yazoo go just yet, not when he had him held here so passively and unresisting. Maybe Yazoo didn't want to be let go either. Maybe he wanted this too. Loz couldn't tell but he privately hoped that was what Yazoo was thinking. Without even looking, Loz set aside his forgotten beer bottle on the rim of the bath tub and brought that hand up to join the other. Holding Yazoo's wrist in both hands, Loz let his eyelids drift shut and nuzzled against his slenderer sibling's fingers, kissing them softly and reverently, as one might kiss the hand of a priest or holy man. He was immensely thankful that Yazoo had chosen to follow him here so they could spend some time alone together and Loz wanted to show his gratitude somehow, since he wasn't that great at saying stuff. Talking with his actions, he gently kissed the back of Yazoo's hand and then turned his head to rub his cheek on the silky skin. He briefly wondered if Yazoo's skin was this silky all over and he knew somehow that it would be.

He halted, realizing he'd been making out with Yazoo's hand for a few minutes now and it was probably time to quit, before his brother started to think he had a weird hand-fetish or something. He released Yazoo's wrist, feeling it slip out of his grasp, leaving him slightly disappointed by the withdrawal. Yazoo still stood there beside him, though, his presence silent and unreadable. Loz kept his eyes lowered to the bubbles he was surrounded by for a few moments, almost afraid to look up in case he saw that Yazoo was displeased with him. Then he remembered with a flush of bolstering confidence that he was supposed to be the boss for the night so if he wanted to lick Yazoo's fingers, he had every damn right to. Anyway, Yazoo could have stopped him from doing it but he didn't.

Finally, he looked up from his seat in the tub to gauge Yazoo's reaction, keen to know if his bold actions had affected his calm, collected brother in any way at all.


Yazoo blinked, coming back to reality. He´d actually lost himself in the sensation of Loz´s velvety tongue exploring his skin, tickling every nerve, stroking it, stimulating it... Time seemed to have stopped, and everything else but his brother´s touch on him had become redundant. The room had faded from his vision, the light sound of water splashing as Loz moved had been quelled by the sensations that had taken over tactile sense.

What he still had been able to see was Loz´s face though. The sharp, but strangely delicate angles, his downcast eyes and long lashes, his pink, wet tongue... His strong hands that held his own. Again he was amazed how gentle his oldest brother could actually be, if he chose so. Yazoo knew what strength and potential for destruction rested within Loz´s body; he had seen him make use of it often enough. It was something he could understand and work with, whereas the concept of being gentle and close to another person in a non-combat situation was still a somewhat foreign concept to him. They had had one of these close moments together -or at least Yazoo supposed it had been one- and it hadn´t been unpleasant at all.

Just as this moment hadn´t been.

Blinking again, Yazoo´s narrowed vision switched back to full mode and he became aware of his half bend position and Loz looking up at him with inquiring, almost nervous eyes.

"Why did you stop?"

The silver haired remnant tilted his head, his own eyes just as questioning, but otherwise they were neutral.


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A/N: Thanks to Hakucho for being the first to comment! Hope you liked the last couple of parts as well. Can you tell we're having fun with it? lol