Apr. 20th, 2005 05:19 pm
Title: Thrill of the Kill
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lovely_ambitionTitle: Thrill of the Kill
Rating: R
Pairing: Gawain/Dagonet
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened.
Summary: Gawain's first kill. "The adrenaline makes you do funny things."
Notes: One of many interludes planned for the Modern Day Legends story.
Gawain’s opportunity for a first kill was given to him at the young age of eighteen. Galahad was off with some girl on another date – their fourth – a girl that Gawain disapproved heartily of, knowing a gold digger when he saw one. She had the hungry thirst for money in her eyes, cooing and simpering every time Galahad withdrew his wallet. Gawain most vehemently did not like her. So, Galahad was on a date and Gawain was on a kill.
Briefly, he wondered just how long he could keep this life from Galahad.
“You nervous?” Dagonet asked, raising one eyebrow calmly as he slipped his leather gloves on. Gawain shook his head, vehemently and silently, his shoulder-length hair in wisps. He quickly put on his cap and sighed, knowing this was the only way to get out of his troubles without his mother finding out that her son had wound up with two inexplicable broken legs because of a bad loan. “Good. Don’t be nervous. I’ve done this before. You’ve trained.”
“I feel almost excited,” Gawain confided in a whisper, shoving wavy strands behind his ears and tucking his hair under his cap. He wanted to grow it long again, maybe add some braids to it. Tristan would surely help. “Like my heart’s sped up twice as much as it should.”
“Then you’re ready,” Dagonet said quietly, a proud smile hanging on the corner of his lips. “I’m just going to watch and let you have the thrill. He shouldn’t scream much, not after you tie him down,” Dagonet offered Gawain a long strip of cloth; thick, something that would muffle screams. Gawain grinned and took the long cloth into hand along with the coarse ropes Tristan had given him before they left.
“So,” Gawain leaned in, shuffling until his gun was at easy access. “You think Tristan’s used these on Dinidan?”
“Or Isolde,” Dagonet laughed quietly. “They’re a strange sort.”
Gawain laughed quietly, pressing his lips together to quiet himself as he took a deep breath, counted to three. He nodded slowly as he made it to his feet and pressed his lips hard to Dagonet’s. “For luck,” he explained in a hush, creeping towards the house and gripping the trellis, slowly ascending towards the heavens of the second floor where the balcony door was kept open during the summer months. Gawain reached the top and hopped over the balcony’s edge, silent as he crept forward, gag taut between his hands.
He slipped forward with great stealth and in three short seconds, had the mark gagged, turned, and pushed to the bed as Gawain grabbed the ropes and began to make quick work of tying him down. Gawain worked fast, not going for the showmanship like Tristan or Lancelot might, but instead enjoying the briskness that efficiency had to offer. Gawain bit on his lip and breathed in and out as evenly as he could, not about to risk ruining a job because of his nerves.
He withdrew his sword, wanting his first kill – he’d dreamt of this, nightmares and dreams that haunted him for weeks – to be by the blade instead of the gun. Gawain nodded his head downwards, whispering his Mother’s favourite words for good luck to the goddess before taking his sword and staring down the mark, who showed him no fear.
“You were a brave man,” Gawain commented quietly, slitting his throat with one fell swoop of the sword, never missing and always lethal. “You will be missed,” he told the corpse, turning and sheathing his sword. He didn’t form any attachment. There was no reason he should care about the life he just took. The only lives on the line were his own and Dagonet’s.
“Nice work,” Dagonet said approvingly.
Gawain grinned, letting his emotions slide forward now that he could afford to lose a little bit of control. “Yeah?” he grabbed the cloth Dagonet threw to him, cleaning any evidence that he might have left. His fingers were gloved and his hair was still tucked under the cap. There were no cameras in the room and Gawain and Dagonet had an alibi prepared for them, just in case.
“You were efficient,” Dagonet said briskly, crawling back down the way they came. “I like that,” he whispered back up to Gawain as Gawain hopped the balcony and began to climb down the trellis. “It speaks of talent. That you don’t need to show off.”
“Stop,” Gawain said dryly. “You’re flattering me.”
“You deserve to be flattered,” Dagonet gave him a pat on the back. “I’ve noticed the extra hours you’ve been putting into training. You deserved this kill and you did well.”
Gawain licked his lips, heart beating too fast; mind running through too many thoughts. He stepped forward, Dagonet’s hand not moving from his shoulder – the warmth of his big fingers seeping through Gawain’s black shirt. “Do I get my reward now?” he asked cheekily, sounding a bit too much like Galahad for his likes. He grinned slyly, abandoning that thought for tomorrow. He would confront Galahad about the gold-digger; maybe even get Galahad to dump her. Right now, he wanted a release for this energy.
Dagonet raised one eyebrow.
“I’ve heard stories,” Gawain whispered, still grinning. “Of the hotels Arthur and Lancelot go to? Of the old days of you and Bors and Vanora. I heard Bedivere took Tristan to bed.”
“Stories,” Dagonet replied evenly.
Gawain blinked, not giving a single inch. “C’mon,” he urged, leaning up and stealing a harsh kiss, fast and hot. “Come on,” he whispered again, pushing his hips against Dagonet’s. “Take the car, drive it to the woods, we’ll go in the backseat. You can drive,” Gawain promised, eyes bright with enthusiastic hope. His lips were quirked in the oddest, most hopeful smile and he just wanted his release. “Or I could always go ask Tristan…”
“Get in the car,” Dagonet ordered, an amused set to his face – but never an actual grin, not from Dagonet. “I know a place.”
Gawain did as ordered, sliding into the leather and grinning madly at Dagonet, his heart pumping with the adrenaline. The revving of the engine was like music to his ears and the cool night air cycled through the open windows as Dagonet just drove, Gawain’s trust in his hands and the fate of the night in the air. Gawain closed his eyes, pulling the cap off and shaking his hair loose from the messy knot he’d tied it in, frizzing in the climate.
“Almost there,” Dagonet reassured.
Gawain nodded, tapping his fingers in rhythmic anticipation against the dashboard of the sleek car. Finally, the engine was turned off and the sound of crickets in the dead of the night assaulted their ears. Gawain unbuckled quickly, crawling into the back seat and wasting no time in taking off his belt and shoving down his trousers. “Make me shout, why don’t you?” He gave a feral grin as he tugged Dagonet on top of him, pushing Dagonet’s shirt buttons open and shoving the zipper of his jeans down, cursing loudly as he fumbled and reached into his pocket for the emergency condom he carried around – just in case.
He pushed it into Dagonet’s palm.
“Be quick, go slow, I don’t care,” Gawain said in a rush. “Just need a release.”
Dagonet gave a small smile. “You sound like Percival. Impatient bastard, he is.”
“Don’t compare me to him,” Gawain protested, arching his back and guiding Dagonet’s hands to his cock. “He’s lanky and scrawny and complains all the time about everything. Even the job. You know I’m not like that.”
Dagonet gave an amused chuckle. “I know. I don’t work out with people I can’t stand,” he said evenly, pushing Gawain’s thighs apart and shifting until he was perfectly atop Gawain, rolling the condom on slowly, one hand – and splayed fingers – stroking Gawain’s cock with slow and sure precision. Gawain exhaled slowly, tipping his head back to the sky and enjoying the view. Dagonet knew what he was doing, that much was clear from the way he was pushing into Gawain with a care that spoke of a man who had done this before many times, yet did not care to brag about it the next day. Gawain grunted a little. “Easy,” Dagonet instructed gently, one hand descending to hold onto Gawain’s hip, the other still methodically stroking Gawain’s cock – all the while Dagonet kept thrusting in evenly, hips rolling upwards.
Not once did Dagonet close his eyes or seem to lose control.
Gawain, on the other hand, lost control of his senses in the midst of his being fucked. His breathing slipped into ragged pulls of oxygen and his sense of touch went into overdrive. His hand slipped from its grip on the back of the seat more than once and he stuttered out unintelligible phrases and names, exhaling “faster,” a few times. Dagonet obliged with a murmur and a grunt, pushing into Gawain a little faster, stroking a little harder.
Gawain came, shutting his eyes tight, hissing out air through clenched teeth as he bowed his head into his chest, the world coming back to him. He was greeted with the sounds of Dagonet mumbling something beneath his breath, coming as he did … and the sounds of Gawain’s mobile.
“Fuck,” Gawain swore, rubbing his eyes and tapping Dagonet on the shoulder. “No, you were good. That was good,” he grinned and assured, untangling from Dagonet’s grasp and fumbling to lean into the front seat to get his phone. “Yeah?” he started, his voice hoarse. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Dagonet redress and get back into complete control, tossing the condom into the woods and getting back into the front seat.
Gawain frowned, listening to the babbling at the other end of the line.
“What do you mean you’re alone?” he asked with worry. “She did…she…you dumped her?” Gawain tried desperately to keep the happiness and relief out of his voice. “Oh, Galahad,” Gawain murmured. “No, just stay there, okay? I’ll be there. I’ll come get you.” Gawain hung up and shook his head, crawling back into the front and doing up his trousers. “His date threw water in his face and left him stranded with no money at the restaurant after he dumped her and she dumped the dessert in his lap.”
Dagonet chuckled. “Sounds like a real ladies’ man.”
Gawain snorted. “That’s the problem,” he groaned. “All right, let’s go. I have to go pick up Prince Charming.”
end
Rating: R
Pairing: Gawain/Dagonet
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened.
Summary: Gawain's first kill. "The adrenaline makes you do funny things."
Notes: One of many interludes planned for the Modern Day Legends story.
Gawain’s opportunity for a first kill was given to him at the young age of eighteen. Galahad was off with some girl on another date – their fourth – a girl that Gawain disapproved heartily of, knowing a gold digger when he saw one. She had the hungry thirst for money in her eyes, cooing and simpering every time Galahad withdrew his wallet. Gawain most vehemently did not like her. So, Galahad was on a date and Gawain was on a kill.
Briefly, he wondered just how long he could keep this life from Galahad.
“You nervous?” Dagonet asked, raising one eyebrow calmly as he slipped his leather gloves on. Gawain shook his head, vehemently and silently, his shoulder-length hair in wisps. He quickly put on his cap and sighed, knowing this was the only way to get out of his troubles without his mother finding out that her son had wound up with two inexplicable broken legs because of a bad loan. “Good. Don’t be nervous. I’ve done this before. You’ve trained.”
“I feel almost excited,” Gawain confided in a whisper, shoving wavy strands behind his ears and tucking his hair under his cap. He wanted to grow it long again, maybe add some braids to it. Tristan would surely help. “Like my heart’s sped up twice as much as it should.”
“Then you’re ready,” Dagonet said quietly, a proud smile hanging on the corner of his lips. “I’m just going to watch and let you have the thrill. He shouldn’t scream much, not after you tie him down,” Dagonet offered Gawain a long strip of cloth; thick, something that would muffle screams. Gawain grinned and took the long cloth into hand along with the coarse ropes Tristan had given him before they left.
“So,” Gawain leaned in, shuffling until his gun was at easy access. “You think Tristan’s used these on Dinidan?”
“Or Isolde,” Dagonet laughed quietly. “They’re a strange sort.”
Gawain laughed quietly, pressing his lips together to quiet himself as he took a deep breath, counted to three. He nodded slowly as he made it to his feet and pressed his lips hard to Dagonet’s. “For luck,” he explained in a hush, creeping towards the house and gripping the trellis, slowly ascending towards the heavens of the second floor where the balcony door was kept open during the summer months. Gawain reached the top and hopped over the balcony’s edge, silent as he crept forward, gag taut between his hands.
He slipped forward with great stealth and in three short seconds, had the mark gagged, turned, and pushed to the bed as Gawain grabbed the ropes and began to make quick work of tying him down. Gawain worked fast, not going for the showmanship like Tristan or Lancelot might, but instead enjoying the briskness that efficiency had to offer. Gawain bit on his lip and breathed in and out as evenly as he could, not about to risk ruining a job because of his nerves.
He withdrew his sword, wanting his first kill – he’d dreamt of this, nightmares and dreams that haunted him for weeks – to be by the blade instead of the gun. Gawain nodded his head downwards, whispering his Mother’s favourite words for good luck to the goddess before taking his sword and staring down the mark, who showed him no fear.
“You were a brave man,” Gawain commented quietly, slitting his throat with one fell swoop of the sword, never missing and always lethal. “You will be missed,” he told the corpse, turning and sheathing his sword. He didn’t form any attachment. There was no reason he should care about the life he just took. The only lives on the line were his own and Dagonet’s.
“Nice work,” Dagonet said approvingly.
Gawain grinned, letting his emotions slide forward now that he could afford to lose a little bit of control. “Yeah?” he grabbed the cloth Dagonet threw to him, cleaning any evidence that he might have left. His fingers were gloved and his hair was still tucked under the cap. There were no cameras in the room and Gawain and Dagonet had an alibi prepared for them, just in case.
“You were efficient,” Dagonet said briskly, crawling back down the way they came. “I like that,” he whispered back up to Gawain as Gawain hopped the balcony and began to climb down the trellis. “It speaks of talent. That you don’t need to show off.”
“Stop,” Gawain said dryly. “You’re flattering me.”
“You deserve to be flattered,” Dagonet gave him a pat on the back. “I’ve noticed the extra hours you’ve been putting into training. You deserved this kill and you did well.”
Gawain licked his lips, heart beating too fast; mind running through too many thoughts. He stepped forward, Dagonet’s hand not moving from his shoulder – the warmth of his big fingers seeping through Gawain’s black shirt. “Do I get my reward now?” he asked cheekily, sounding a bit too much like Galahad for his likes. He grinned slyly, abandoning that thought for tomorrow. He would confront Galahad about the gold-digger; maybe even get Galahad to dump her. Right now, he wanted a release for this energy.
Dagonet raised one eyebrow.
“I’ve heard stories,” Gawain whispered, still grinning. “Of the hotels Arthur and Lancelot go to? Of the old days of you and Bors and Vanora. I heard Bedivere took Tristan to bed.”
“Stories,” Dagonet replied evenly.
Gawain blinked, not giving a single inch. “C’mon,” he urged, leaning up and stealing a harsh kiss, fast and hot. “Come on,” he whispered again, pushing his hips against Dagonet’s. “Take the car, drive it to the woods, we’ll go in the backseat. You can drive,” Gawain promised, eyes bright with enthusiastic hope. His lips were quirked in the oddest, most hopeful smile and he just wanted his release. “Or I could always go ask Tristan…”
“Get in the car,” Dagonet ordered, an amused set to his face – but never an actual grin, not from Dagonet. “I know a place.”
Gawain did as ordered, sliding into the leather and grinning madly at Dagonet, his heart pumping with the adrenaline. The revving of the engine was like music to his ears and the cool night air cycled through the open windows as Dagonet just drove, Gawain’s trust in his hands and the fate of the night in the air. Gawain closed his eyes, pulling the cap off and shaking his hair loose from the messy knot he’d tied it in, frizzing in the climate.
“Almost there,” Dagonet reassured.
Gawain nodded, tapping his fingers in rhythmic anticipation against the dashboard of the sleek car. Finally, the engine was turned off and the sound of crickets in the dead of the night assaulted their ears. Gawain unbuckled quickly, crawling into the back seat and wasting no time in taking off his belt and shoving down his trousers. “Make me shout, why don’t you?” He gave a feral grin as he tugged Dagonet on top of him, pushing Dagonet’s shirt buttons open and shoving the zipper of his jeans down, cursing loudly as he fumbled and reached into his pocket for the emergency condom he carried around – just in case.
He pushed it into Dagonet’s palm.
“Be quick, go slow, I don’t care,” Gawain said in a rush. “Just need a release.”
Dagonet gave a small smile. “You sound like Percival. Impatient bastard, he is.”
“Don’t compare me to him,” Gawain protested, arching his back and guiding Dagonet’s hands to his cock. “He’s lanky and scrawny and complains all the time about everything. Even the job. You know I’m not like that.”
Dagonet gave an amused chuckle. “I know. I don’t work out with people I can’t stand,” he said evenly, pushing Gawain’s thighs apart and shifting until he was perfectly atop Gawain, rolling the condom on slowly, one hand – and splayed fingers – stroking Gawain’s cock with slow and sure precision. Gawain exhaled slowly, tipping his head back to the sky and enjoying the view. Dagonet knew what he was doing, that much was clear from the way he was pushing into Gawain with a care that spoke of a man who had done this before many times, yet did not care to brag about it the next day. Gawain grunted a little. “Easy,” Dagonet instructed gently, one hand descending to hold onto Gawain’s hip, the other still methodically stroking Gawain’s cock – all the while Dagonet kept thrusting in evenly, hips rolling upwards.
Not once did Dagonet close his eyes or seem to lose control.
Gawain, on the other hand, lost control of his senses in the midst of his being fucked. His breathing slipped into ragged pulls of oxygen and his sense of touch went into overdrive. His hand slipped from its grip on the back of the seat more than once and he stuttered out unintelligible phrases and names, exhaling “faster,” a few times. Dagonet obliged with a murmur and a grunt, pushing into Gawain a little faster, stroking a little harder.
Gawain came, shutting his eyes tight, hissing out air through clenched teeth as he bowed his head into his chest, the world coming back to him. He was greeted with the sounds of Dagonet mumbling something beneath his breath, coming as he did … and the sounds of Gawain’s mobile.
“Fuck,” Gawain swore, rubbing his eyes and tapping Dagonet on the shoulder. “No, you were good. That was good,” he grinned and assured, untangling from Dagonet’s grasp and fumbling to lean into the front seat to get his phone. “Yeah?” he started, his voice hoarse. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Dagonet redress and get back into complete control, tossing the condom into the woods and getting back into the front seat.
Gawain frowned, listening to the babbling at the other end of the line.
“What do you mean you’re alone?” he asked with worry. “She did…she…you dumped her?” Gawain tried desperately to keep the happiness and relief out of his voice. “Oh, Galahad,” Gawain murmured. “No, just stay there, okay? I’ll be there. I’ll come get you.” Gawain hung up and shook his head, crawling back into the front and doing up his trousers. “His date threw water in his face and left him stranded with no money at the restaurant after he dumped her and she dumped the dessert in his lap.”
Dagonet chuckled. “Sounds like a real ladies’ man.”
Gawain snorted. “That’s the problem,” he groaned. “All right, let’s go. I have to go pick up Prince Charming.”
end
Tags:
no subject
DAG LOVE.
no subject
no subject
Loved it loved it loved it loved it loved it.
PeeK
P.S. YOU are a GODDESS!
no subject
Thank you for reading! And *blushes* you're too kind.
no subject
no subject
And oh yes, Gawain must always have Galahad in his miiiind. It's his obsession!