wickedwords | FIC-ish: Pit Traps, not so much (Lorne/Parrish)

I wrote some comment!porn for

casspeach the other day, and by comment!porn, I mean comment!UST.

Title: Pit Traps, not so much
Author: Rachael Sabotini
500 words, Lorne/Parrish

Pit Traps, not so much

Being tied up didn't bother Lorne too much -- as a member of the SGC, he'd kinda gotten used to it -- but Parrish was a scientist, and he wasn't used to being assaulted by bird worshipers while attempting to get samples of a new type of fern, then being tied up and imprisoned in a mud hut. Ferns, Parrish knew. Pit traps, not so much.

But apparently, Parrish did know a thing or two about ropes. Even in the dim moonlight that made it in through the window slots of their prison, Lorne could see him concentrating and evaluating the information at hand.

"I'd say a Sisal derivative," Parrish said, twisting his wrists slightly. "Those don't have a lot of give to them, and have an excellent knot-holding capability."

"Ya don't say," Lorne grunted, trying to scoot around so he could get his hands close to Parrish's. He figured if he got close enough, maybe he could untie Parish somehow.

Or Parrish could untie him. He was easy like that.

"Hhm, yes." Parrish stretched his neck out, closing his eyes as he felt at the ropes, like a wine connoisseur at a blind taste test. "Twisted, though, not braided." His eyes sprang open. "That means it will be easy to unravel, if we can just--" He hissed as Lorne's fingers brushed his. "Ah, yes. Get in close, where-- Like that."

Lorne worked at the knots, at first digging at the scratchy fiber with his fingernails until he accidentally scratched the soft skin on the inside of Parrish's wrist. This time, when Parrish hissed, it was more like a moan.

It sounded kinda vaguely dirty.

"You okay?" Lorne asked quietly.

"Fine. Yes." He could hear Parrish swallow. "Just a little...more gentle, if possible, Major. My hands are delicate."

Now that he thought about it, Lorne knew what Parrish meant. His fingers were long and tapered, yet strong. Lorne moved a little slower as he continued to work at the rope, being as gentle as he could with Parrish's hands.

Parrish was pressed against his back, and Lorne could hear him breathing, deep, hard, heavy breaths whenever he jerked too hard at the rope. The real fuck of the matter was that this was turning him on. Every whisper, every sigh went straight to Lorne's cock -- but he really couldn't think about that right now. He thought of escape, and freedom, and not what Parrish might look like with those fucking long-fingered hands wrapped around Lorne's cock some night.

The rope gave way, and Lorne let out a sigh of relief. Parrish was able to get enough slack and fold up his hand in such a way that he could slip free.

"Thank you," Parrish whispered as he untied Lorne. His lips brushed Lorne's ear as he spoke, and Lorne couldn't help but arch into it, his cock aching. Once they got back to Atlantis, he had a few questions to ask Parrish.

Like where the hell had he learned so much about rope.