Title: Back In The Saddle
Character/s: Gwaine and someone else...
Summary: How he got the leather kink
Word Count: 590
Author's Notes: Because bunnysworld is so persuasive, and because of course it's all down to Gwaine
He walked into his room and stopped still in the doorway. When Gwaine had promised him a surprise after dinner on the way back from patrol he hadn’t actually expected it to shock. Gwaine’s surprises were usually something along the lines of him lying open and ready on the bed, or Gwaine tugging him into an alcove for an unexpected blowjob.
What he’d been expecting was certainly not his saddle perched on the bed, Gwaine shamelessly naked and very much hard, sitting on it with his legs spread.
“Are you coming in or are you gonna let the whole castle see?” Gwaine asked, so he took a step into the room and shut the door, locking it too, just in case.
“What’s this about?” he asked, once he’d found his voice again.
“Can’t stop thinking ‘bout how hot you look when you’re riding, when we’re out on patrol. So I wondered if it was possible to fuck in the saddle.”
“Right,” he said, going over and starting to strip, because Gwaine would have his way whether he liked it or not, he’d persuade him, somehow or other, so there was no point protesting.
Gwaine pulled him in for a kiss when he was down to just his breeches and took over the undressing.
“Come here,” Gwaine whispered, “I want you in the saddle. It’ll work best that way.”
He rolled his eyes but did as he was told anyway, swinging a leg over when Gwaine wriggled out of the way. Gwaine’s eyes raked over his body, then he moved suddenly, sweeping down to take his cock in his mouth. If the saddle had really been on a horse, Gwaine would have been draped somewhere over the neck, but he didn’t have the heart, or the masochism, to call Gwaine out on it because fuck that was good. His mouth was deep and eager and so warm and wet, sucking tight-
Gwaine did stop though, when he had lost all sight of what they’d been heading towards, hips shifting, rocking in the saddle. Gwaine could be annoyingly single-minded like that.
And perhaps the disappointment was written across his face, because Gwaine pulled up to kiss him, soothing, climbing into his lap and wrapping his legs around his chest. Gwaine took his fingers and pulled them round to his arse.
“Feel that,” he instructed, voice low and a little hoarse, “I got myself open for you, sitting here on your saddle.”
“Fuck me,” he added, with a wriggle.
“Gwaine,” he moaned, and he took hold of Gwaine’s hips and lowered him onto his cock. His thighs strained, keeping both of them moving, slowly at first, a parody of a rising trot. The hands on Gwaine’s hips were sure to bruise, but he kept Gwaine’s weight suspended, thrusting up into him.
The sounds Gwaine made were loud as usual, desperate and hungry, low and greedy. It was perhaps a little embarrassing to hear his voice joining the echoes, babbles of nonsense that went straight from thought to mouth, yes and more and god, you have the best ideas-
He came then, thinking of Gwaine riding throughout the day, thinking of him. Gwaine tensed, clinging onto him, fingernails digging into shoulder blades, coming untouched between them. He flopped back onto the bed, taking Gwaine with him and pushing the saddle away with his feet.
“So,” Gwaine said, yawning, “What was that about me and good ideas? Oh, no, the best.”
He elbowed Gwaine with a despairing cry. He’d never live that down.