Timeline: the night before the energy-ball thingie, which is episode 9
CHAPTER 3:
Silk Sheets
Anubis stood, feet firmly planted apart, carefully taking in the monstrosity before him. He was dimly aware of the fact that he had been staring at it for quite some time, but he just couldn't unlock his legs and make himself approach ... the bed.
He sighed. It was a small sound, almost lost in his large room, loud enough though to rouse him from his trance-like state. He looked around, uncertain, wanting to make sure that there were no spying eyes. There were none. Of course, there were none. He'd chosen this night precisely because there wouldn't be the off-chance that his antics might be discovered. Just thinking about what would happen if they saw ... color flooded his cheeks and the shame very nearly weakened his resolve.
No, no, no. He'd gone to all this trouble ... He growled impatiently and raked long fingers through thick red hair, taking a purposeful step forward and immediately chiding himself an idiot. This was foolish. Damn Wildfire and his stupid comment. Damn him for listening to it. With a sneer he took another step, bent down to rip those silk sheets off his bed, when his hands touched the soft material.
"Oh." It was a soft sound full of childlike wonder and amazement. Eyes wide he very carefully reached out again and traced an invisible line over the pillow case. It was a caress. The instant Anubis realized that a smile had crept onto his face, he withdrew his hand and took a very determined step away from the bed.
Without another look he stormed out of his room. The door slammed shut, leaving him in a dimly lit corridor. He set off to find something to ... skewer. He needed to bloody something. He moved with a purpose now, his feet taking him in the direction of the dungeon. It wasn't until he passed the first few guards that his mind, determined to flee those sheets, realized he was inviting trouble. Maybe their looks tipped him of, maybe the chilly dampness that raised goosebumps did. He wasn't wearing his armor and for once had shed his sub-armor and none of the guards had ever seen him so casual before. He growled and glared and that was enough to have the tin cans snap to attention and avert their curious stares.
Too late, he realized. There would be talk. Gossip. And it would only be a matter of time before the others and Talpa himself would hear of this. He sighed, dropped his head and, in a gesture completely foreign to him, slouched against the cold stone wall. What was wrong with him? He ought to be planning the Ronin demise. Talpa had informed them that something big was going to happen in the morning. Something to rid them of Strata who floated somewhere in space ... which might feel like sleeping beneath silk sheets.
Argh. Furious now he pushed himself away from the wall to make his way back to his bedchamber. Damn Wildfire and his stupid comment. Why did his every thought, no matter what it started out as, always end up with Wildfire? Aw, hell, he had even invaded his meditation, but 'Wildfire must die' was such a nice chant. He sneered. Well, at least it had distracted him enough to ignore Kale's leering looks. Needing to do something with his hands, he raked ten fingers through his hair. But the moment the soft strands slid trough his callused fingers, he was reminded again of his defeat at the hands of ... Wildfire. He very nearly screamed out his frustration.
Resigned to the fact that he was going to have to face the silk sheets, he turned and headed back. He was a Warlord, feared and fearless, and yet, here he was reduced to an uncertain quivering mess at the sight of luxuriously black silk sheets.
Eyes narrowed, blood heated with anger, he stared at his bed. He was determined now to go to sleep, rest before the battle that was surely going to happen in the morning, and not notice those darn sheets. Hell, they were just sheets after all. Bed clothing, nothing more. And it wasn't like he'd never seen silk before. Kale wore it all the time. Kale slept in it, too. An amused smile curled Anubis' lips. Kale who had now one set of sheets less. Serves him right for ogling.
With a sigh that spoke of frustration and resignation, he flopped ungracefully on his bed. And he did well. His control stayed intact until he slid beneath those sheets ... naked.
Two things happened at once and had his senses reeling under the sensual assault. As the luxurious softness washed over him, tiny hairs all over his body took notice and seemed to set his skin aflame with the sensation, while his sense of smell detected the slight scent of Kale that still clung to the sheets. Combined, a force strong enough to wring a moan out of his suddenly parched throat. A soft noise that echoed a thousand fold in his barren room and shattered his already weakened resolve.
He closed his eyes and for once abandoned control to give himself over to the sensation of liquid silk caressing his skin, sliding beneath his hands and back, washing over his chest and legs, trapping him in an intimate embrace that had his blood boiling.
A lazy smile tugged at his mouth, exposing an even set of white teeth and a tongue that licked over dry lips in a gesture that would have been flirtatious had there been somebody with him.
He raised his hands to brush errant strands of red away from his face, only to let them glide down his silk covered chest. He concentrated on the feeling beneath his palms as his hands traveled lower. Slowly the silk ran through his fingers like a heated liquid, pooling in his palms, before sliding over his wrists and the frantic pulse that beat there.
He was only dimly aware of the fact that his hands were not only caressing the soft sheets but also the heated body underneath those sheets. A body that hadn't felt such a touch in a very long time. In a very, very long time. He might have trouble dredging up memories that spoke to the fact, but his body remembered.
He gasped with the sudden realization, but kept caressing the silk for the sheer delight of feeling it rush through his hands. Like water streaming over his naked skin, it felt heavenly, the cool touch a welcome sensation on his heated body. It felt wonderful.
He wiggled with childish pleasure, grinning foolishly, completely enjoying the sheer sensual pleasure of it all. His sudden movement tugged on the sheets, made them slide over him like a slow wave. His nipples tightened. There was an awakening twitch in his groin.
His hand brushed over the still limp organ between his legs, a casual touch, uncertain. He began stroking himself slowly, still unsure. A low groan of pleasure escaped his lips that were now tightly pressed together, too tightly. Sucking in a lungful of air, he skimmed his hand over his heated flesh and opened his eyes to take in the full moon above him and beyond that a sea of stars.
Strata?
Wildfire!
Eyes blazing with fury shot wide open. His hand fell to his side. There was no moon; there were no stars. What had he been thinking? What was he doing? With a howl of anguish he jumped out of bed, nearly tripping over his own feet that tangled in the soft sheets. Nude, seething with fury and something akin to ... fear ... he stood in front of his bed, chest rising and falling with the labored breaths he desperately sucked in. What was he doing? This wasn't right. Where had his control gone?
His hands clawed at the sheets, tearing them off the wide bed. Wildfire was going to die. Not until he lay dead at his feet would Anubis regain his peace, find his equilibrium again. Wildfire must die.
CHAPTER 3:
Silk Sheets
Anubis stood, feet firmly planted apart, carefully taking in the monstrosity before him. He was dimly aware of the fact that he had been staring at it for quite some time, but he just couldn't unlock his legs and make himself approach ... the bed.
He sighed. It was a small sound, almost lost in his large room, loud enough though to rouse him from his trance-like state. He looked around, uncertain, wanting to make sure that there were no spying eyes. There were none. Of course, there were none. He'd chosen this night precisely because there wouldn't be the off-chance that his antics might be discovered. Just thinking about what would happen if they saw ... color flooded his cheeks and the shame very nearly weakened his resolve.
No, no, no. He'd gone to all this trouble ... He growled impatiently and raked long fingers through thick red hair, taking a purposeful step forward and immediately chiding himself an idiot. This was foolish. Damn Wildfire and his stupid comment. Damn him for listening to it. With a sneer he took another step, bent down to rip those silk sheets off his bed, when his hands touched the soft material.
"Oh." It was a soft sound full of childlike wonder and amazement. Eyes wide he very carefully reached out again and traced an invisible line over the pillow case. It was a caress. The instant Anubis realized that a smile had crept onto his face, he withdrew his hand and took a very determined step away from the bed.
Without another look he stormed out of his room. The door slammed shut, leaving him in a dimly lit corridor. He set off to find something to ... skewer. He needed to bloody something. He moved with a purpose now, his feet taking him in the direction of the dungeon. It wasn't until he passed the first few guards that his mind, determined to flee those sheets, realized he was inviting trouble. Maybe their looks tipped him of, maybe the chilly dampness that raised goosebumps did. He wasn't wearing his armor and for once had shed his sub-armor and none of the guards had ever seen him so casual before. He growled and glared and that was enough to have the tin cans snap to attention and avert their curious stares.
Too late, he realized. There would be talk. Gossip. And it would only be a matter of time before the others and Talpa himself would hear of this. He sighed, dropped his head and, in a gesture completely foreign to him, slouched against the cold stone wall. What was wrong with him? He ought to be planning the Ronin demise. Talpa had informed them that something big was going to happen in the morning. Something to rid them of Strata who floated somewhere in space ... which might feel like sleeping beneath silk sheets.
Argh. Furious now he pushed himself away from the wall to make his way back to his bedchamber. Damn Wildfire and his stupid comment. Why did his every thought, no matter what it started out as, always end up with Wildfire? Aw, hell, he had even invaded his meditation, but 'Wildfire must die' was such a nice chant. He sneered. Well, at least it had distracted him enough to ignore Kale's leering looks. Needing to do something with his hands, he raked ten fingers through his hair. But the moment the soft strands slid trough his callused fingers, he was reminded again of his defeat at the hands of ... Wildfire. He very nearly screamed out his frustration.
Resigned to the fact that he was going to have to face the silk sheets, he turned and headed back. He was a Warlord, feared and fearless, and yet, here he was reduced to an uncertain quivering mess at the sight of luxuriously black silk sheets.
Eyes narrowed, blood heated with anger, he stared at his bed. He was determined now to go to sleep, rest before the battle that was surely going to happen in the morning, and not notice those darn sheets. Hell, they were just sheets after all. Bed clothing, nothing more. And it wasn't like he'd never seen silk before. Kale wore it all the time. Kale slept in it, too. An amused smile curled Anubis' lips. Kale who had now one set of sheets less. Serves him right for ogling.
With a sigh that spoke of frustration and resignation, he flopped ungracefully on his bed. And he did well. His control stayed intact until he slid beneath those sheets ... naked.
Two things happened at once and had his senses reeling under the sensual assault. As the luxurious softness washed over him, tiny hairs all over his body took notice and seemed to set his skin aflame with the sensation, while his sense of smell detected the slight scent of Kale that still clung to the sheets. Combined, a force strong enough to wring a moan out of his suddenly parched throat. A soft noise that echoed a thousand fold in his barren room and shattered his already weakened resolve.
He closed his eyes and for once abandoned control to give himself over to the sensation of liquid silk caressing his skin, sliding beneath his hands and back, washing over his chest and legs, trapping him in an intimate embrace that had his blood boiling.
A lazy smile tugged at his mouth, exposing an even set of white teeth and a tongue that licked over dry lips in a gesture that would have been flirtatious had there been somebody with him.
He raised his hands to brush errant strands of red away from his face, only to let them glide down his silk covered chest. He concentrated on the feeling beneath his palms as his hands traveled lower. Slowly the silk ran through his fingers like a heated liquid, pooling in his palms, before sliding over his wrists and the frantic pulse that beat there.
He was only dimly aware of the fact that his hands were not only caressing the soft sheets but also the heated body underneath those sheets. A body that hadn't felt such a touch in a very long time. In a very, very long time. He might have trouble dredging up memories that spoke to the fact, but his body remembered.
He gasped with the sudden realization, but kept caressing the silk for the sheer delight of feeling it rush through his hands. Like water streaming over his naked skin, it felt heavenly, the cool touch a welcome sensation on his heated body. It felt wonderful.
He wiggled with childish pleasure, grinning foolishly, completely enjoying the sheer sensual pleasure of it all. His sudden movement tugged on the sheets, made them slide over him like a slow wave. His nipples tightened. There was an awakening twitch in his groin.
His hand brushed over the still limp organ between his legs, a casual touch, uncertain. He began stroking himself slowly, still unsure. A low groan of pleasure escaped his lips that were now tightly pressed together, too tightly. Sucking in a lungful of air, he skimmed his hand over his heated flesh and opened his eyes to take in the full moon above him and beyond that a sea of stars.
Strata?
Wildfire!
Eyes blazing with fury shot wide open. His hand fell to his side. There was no moon; there were no stars. What had he been thinking? What was he doing? With a howl of anguish he jumped out of bed, nearly tripping over his own feet that tangled in the soft sheets. Nude, seething with fury and something akin to ... fear ... he stood in front of his bed, chest rising and falling with the labored breaths he desperately sucked in. What was he doing? This wasn't right. Where had his control gone?
His hands clawed at the sheets, tearing them off the wide bed. Wildfire was going to die. Not until he lay dead at his feet would Anubis regain his peace, find his equilibrium again. Wildfire must die.