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English
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Published:
2014-03-18
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1,814
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1/1
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At Your Hands

Summary:

Grabbing a bottle of scented oil, James uncapped it and squeezed a sizeable amount onto his hand, figuring his only course of action was to finish off Niki’s massage since he’d dismissed his masseuse.

Notes:

Fufilled my own prompt, disregarded all college obligations as I did so o(╥﹏╥)o

Work Text:

James was restlessly wandering the hotel corridors when he heard the muffled grunts of pain. They sounded distant and unfamiliar, but they made James pause nonetheless, curious and strangely drawn like a moth to a flame. He soon followed them to a spacious room that he could just glimpse through the gap between the sliding door and the frame. In the center of the room was a padded table upon which lay a figure James would never fail to recognise, and a masseuse who stood pressing and pulling muscles and limbs this way and that. The source of the pained sounds was suddenly evident, and James winced in sympathy.

Niki looked tired and vulnerable stretched out on the table in nothing but a towel, and bandages wrapped tight around his head and wrist. He was staring out the window, face crumpled in discomfort, before he turned his head to rest on his good ear, grumbling when his arm was pulled back with professional indifference.

When the masseuse turned away to collect more oil James slipped silently into the room, watching as Niki shifted his shoulders and relaxed with a heavy breath. The masseuse turned when he caught James in his peripheral, but the Brit quickly put his finger to his lips in a silencing motion. He jerked his head in the direction of the door and gave his most charming and pleading smile.

It looked like the man was about to protest, to give James away, but something must have convinced him otherwise when he sighed.

“You are okay, Mr Lauda?” the masseuse asked. Niki’s head shifted minutely, as if he was too exhausted to properly look over his shoulder.

“I am fine.”

The masseuse gave James a pointed look before wordlessly leaving the room. The blond stood for a moment, realising he hadn’t actually planned this far ahead, he’d just wanted the pained noises to stop. James flexed his fingers uncertainly before he removed his jacket and began to rifle through the oils, occasionally glancing at Niki who remained surprisingly silent. Grabbing a bottle of scented oil, James uncapped it and squeezed a sizeable amount onto his hand, figuring his only course of action was to finish off Niki’s massage since he’d dismissed his masseuse.

He rubbed his hands together as he approached the table to warm the oil, catching a glimpse of Niki’s face as he drew closer. The Austrian’s eyes were closed, and from this close he could see the slight swelling of his brow and the prominent scarring that reached across his forehead. But Niki’s typical defensive posture was gone, as was his semi-permanent scowl. In their place his rival was tired and languid, soft and exposed, and it made James’ hands itch.

He placed his hands on Niki’s back with no small amount of assurance. Had he not had his brief stint in medicine to familiarise himself with the body, James was no stranger to massaging another round of sex out his parters. He started with a few tender back and forth strokes before he applied more pressure and followed the ridges of Niki’s shoulder blades, admiring the warmth and smoothness of the man’s back as Niki sighed and groaned gently beneath him. James faltered at the noise, inhaling sharply.

Niki furrowed his brow and James hurriedly restarted, kneading Niki’s back and shoulders with long firm strokes that had him melting beneath James’ hands with unfiltered sounds. With each appreciative sigh, James pressed harder in the hopes of milking more from him.

Biting his lip thoughtfully, James decided he was indeed not above toying with the Austrian’s erogenous zones. He slid both his hands up the center of Niki’s back, onto his shoulders, and began working his thumbs in tight steady circles at the base of Niki’s neck.

The response was almost instantaneous as Niki released a low, pleased hum. When Niki suddenly shifted James froze, but it was merely to turn his head again to look out window, his arms languidly framing the rolled up towel that acted as his pillow.

The massage continued in silence for countless minutes and James drank in the sight and sounds of a Niki Lauda he never got to see.

He jerked his head up in surprise when Niki suddenly spoke, pulling him from his reverie.

“Can’t see the mountain,” his voice was low and even, relaxed. James kept his hands moving in basic rhythmic circles as he looked up to follow Niki’s gaze, frowning when he saw the soft grey mist shrouding the mountain had darkened to ominous storm clouds. “The locals here believe if you can’t see the mountain in the morning, it brings good luck”.

James faltered, astounded by the comment; a comment Niki would have never made had he known who stood over his shoulder. Niki was not about beliefs and luck, he was statistics and skill. James felt sucker punched by this new aspect of Niki, and the intimacy of the situation. He stood silently for several heartbeats, hands motionless on Niki’s back. He licked his lips.    

“You of all people don’t need luck”.

Niki inhaled sharply and jerked under James’ hands and the blond hastily added pressure to keep Niki flat on the table. The Austrian’s body was too lax for him to properly free himself from where James had him pinned, so instead he looked furiously over his shoulder, his previous lethargy lost to alarm and mortification.

“What are you doing, you bastard! Geh runter von mir! [let me go!]” Niki seethed, curling his hands into fists against the table. “How long have you been here?” he snapped.

James cleared his throat, “Not too long, my darling rat, and you know I don’t understand German, I hope you’re being nice”. He sounded only partially abashed at being caught.

“Let me up, Hunt!”

“Come now, Niki, you’ve got at least another half hour of a massage, I wasn’t doing too badly was I?”

Niki growled warningly and tried to get up again, but James held firm, hands spread out at the top and bottom of Niki’s back. James softened his tone, “You won’t be doing yourself any favours if you try to race all wound up,” he said seriously.

“And who’s fault would that be!?” Niki snipped, but James’ reasoning seemed to douse Niki’s ire, if only slightly. He reluctantly lay himself flat on the table, his head cushioned back on the towel while he set his gaze resolutely out the window, away from James.

The Brit sighed and relaxed his arms when it was clear Niki wasn’t going to put up further resistance. “Right then,” he murmured as he refreshed his supply of oil and returned his hands to Niki’s back, feeling the man tense at the contact. James huffed softly and began to work his hands into Niki’s back and shoulders, kneading deep into the tense knots to try and loosen them and reclaim the pliancy he had lost. He found himself missing the sounds Niki had previously given freely as he did so, but the man remained resolutely silent, as if determined not to enjoy his massage now that he knew whose hands were roaming his skin.

James’ brow furrowed at the challenge. He once again pushed his hands up Niki’s back and spread his palms over his shoulders, rubbing his thumbs into the base of Niki’s neck. He heard Niki’s breath stutter almost instantly, and James pressed harder, encouraged by the response. He dragged his hands back down, ghosting his thumbs down Niki’s spine and his fingers down his sides, and was rewarded with a tremor and the barest sigh.

James slid his gaze down Niki’s prone figure and scrutinised the towel slung low across his hips, barely covering him. Then on his downward stroke he pushed the towel lower until his palms were smoothing over the pale curves of Niki’s ass.

“Hunt!” Niki gasped, but James hushed him and leant over and peppered kisses along Niki’s shoulder. He brought his hands back up and pressed them into the dips of Niki’s back as he kissed and sucked the brunet’s vulnerable neck. “Gott,” Niki breathed helplessly, groaning as he was overtaken by James’ fingers and lips, the tension finally bleeding away as James’ hands roamed every inch of available skin, still moving in long circular motions.

Dragging his tongue over Niki’s nape, James tenderly gripped his hip and eased Niki onto his side, letting the towel fall to the floor. His fingers then sought out Niki’s cock, which was hard and leaking against his belly. “Hunt,” Niki moaned as the blond gripped him firmly, sliding his oil-slicked hand slowly up and down Niki’s shaft and smoothing his thumb over the darkened head.

“That’s it, Niki,” James murmured into the Austrian’s neck, increasing his pace as Niki began to pant and tremble, murmuring ‘bitte, bitte, bitte,’ under his breath.

James tightened his grip and Niki came with a sob, body curling instinctively as James hummed against his neck and stroked him through his orgasm until Niki was squirming from the sensitivity.

Satisfied, James straightened and collected the towel from the floor, wiping the come from Niki’s stomach and his hand as the man lay in a daze, eyes fluttering from the aftershocks. His body was finally loose and pliant, shimmering with a mixture of oil and sweat. James couldn’t resist kissing him until Niki was gasping against his lips.

He wordlessly wiped away the moisture from Niki’s chest and back and threw the towel to the side, leaving Niki lying fully exposed on the table. He leant over Niki again and softly dragged his lips up the man's nape.  

“You know, darling, we could do this again,” James murmured into Niki’s hair, absently dragging his fingers down his side; over the swell of Niki’s hip and then back again.

The smaller man snorted quietly, only the slightest rasp to his voice. “I did not doubt this proposition would come. I am sure you have what you wanted, Hunt, there is no need for misplaced consolation.”

“No, no,” James hastily muttered, leaning forward to layer Niki’s neck with wet kisses that had the brunet panting softly. “The massages. I can help. Every night. If you want to.” James said between kisses, his lips working their way up Niki’s neck and jaw until his nose gently bumped Niki’s ear. “But if they were to finish like this, I certainly wouldn’t oppose,” he smiled against his skin.

Niki lay pliant and at ease on the table as silence fell over the room, broken only by their breathing, James’ lips against Niki’s neck, and the intermittent splatter of rain against the window. For several long minutes he stared from beneath his lashes at the cavernous space where the mountain was meant to be in the skyline, before he at last replied to James.

“I would like that”.