| Title: Title: One Foot Forward Author: Jo Series: Kink, part 1 Pairing: Karl Urban/Marton Csokas Rating: PG13 Summary: Karl's had a long day on the set and Marton just wants to relax him. Warnings: mild kink/foot fetish Disclaimer: If you think this is real, then I'm fucking Orlando Bloom on a nightly basis. Author's Notes: Inspired by, and written for, the RSF Contest. Written & completed August 27, 2002, making it the first Karl/Marton fic in the fandom. Go me. Big thanks to Cyndi for the beta! *mwah* Author's Notes 2: This fic won the "Most Creative Non-Smut" award in the RSF Contest.
Karl limped to the rocking chair, dropped into it, toed off his shoes. Rubbing one foot, he glanced at Marton. "Nothing. Just a long day today. Half riding, half standing." "Ah," Marton murmured, leaned down for a brief kiss. He pulled back, wrinkling his nose. "Feh. You smell like horse sweat. Go take a shower." "You don't like sweat?" Karl teased, grinning at Marton's expression. "Karl sweat is fine. Horse sweat is not. Shower. Now." "Alright, alright," Karl chuckled, then groaned as he stood. He noted Marton's sympathetic gaze but waved it off as he trudged towards the stairs and the shower that waited above. Thirty minutes later, clean, refreshed, and smelling of citrus and sandlewood, he was back in the living room. Marton was nowhere in sight. Now...where had he gotten to? The kitchen, perhaps. Karl made it two steps in that direction before Marton's soft voice stopped him. "Sit." Marton appeared, carrying a small basket. Okay. Sit. Right. Karl collapsed on the sofa, watching with interest as Marton turned off all the lamps but one, dimming that one until the room was cast in shadows. Curious. He waited, silent, as Marton settled on the floor at his feet. "What's that?" "This?" Marton asked, indicating the basket. Karl's nod brought a faint smile to his face. "Just a few things." Things. So nice of Marton to be specific. Apparently 'things' included a bottle of peppermint massage lotion. Karl grinned, relaxing into the cushions, knowing what was coming next. Lovely. Marton had the most talented hands this side of the Pacific. "Oh," Karl breathed when Marton lifted one of his feet. Peppermint scented the air, then warm, slick fingers were gliding over Karl's instep, stroking, rubbing, soothing the knots out. Oh, yes. Marton's hands should be declared a national treasure. Karl wondered whom he had to contact to make that happen. "Like that?" Marton's quiet words cut through the silence as he finished with the first foot, then moved on to the other. "Mmhmm..." Definitely liked that. Loved it, actually. Would give Marton exactly three days to stop. Yes. Strong, lovely, gentle, talented fingers that knew exactly what to do. Karl's head lolled back against the sofa, and he closed his eyes, letting his mind drift as his body relaxed under Marton's ministrations. "All better?" Marton's hands slid up Karl's legs, stroking ankles and calves with light, almost delicate, touches. "Mmhmm..." Karl didn't think he could move, ever again. Not even if the sofa had been on fire. He felt his foot being lifted, felt Marton's hand cradling his heel while the other curled over the top of his foot. Mmm...wonderful. More massaging, more...oh. Oh. His eyes snapped open as wet heat closed around his big toe. Karl stared, found Marton's midnight eyes fastened on his, Marton's luscious mouth wrapped around his toe. Oh...oh, God... A soft tongue slid across the bottom of his toe, then Marton sucked. Softly at first, but the pressure gradually increased. The suction sent tongues of fire licking through Karl's veins, sending sparks dancing through his body. Karl couldn't tear his eyes away. The sight of Marton sucking his toe had all of his blood pooling in his groin, the sheer sexiness of the act overwhelming conscious thought. Not that he needed conscious thought right then. Not as long as Marton kept doing that... Then Marton's mouth left his big toe, moved on to the next, and Karl thought that maybe he had whimpered. "Unh..." Karl groaned, fists gripping the cushion beneath him, erection tenting his pajama bottoms. Amazing that one small act could have him so hard, could have him aching so much. Oh..fuck... Marton smiled, tongue playing over Karl's little toe, lips curving around the small digit, mouth sucking gently. Karl wasn't sure how much more he could take. Each tiny lick, each subtle variation in pressure, had him writhing, moaning, wanting more. If Marton's hands were a national treasure, his mouth was a gift from God. And Karl wanted it elsewhere, wanted it sucking and licking and worshipping other parts of his body, wanted it... "Touch yourself," Marton commanded in a gentle tone, eyes glittering in the dimness. He waited until Karl's hand had slid down to rub his erection through the thin flannel. Then Marton smiled once more, tongue snaking out to play between two toes before drawing one of them back into his mouth once more. It was, without a doubt, the most erotic thing Karl had ever experienced. Marton's mouth on his toes, Marton's eyes on his face, his own hand rubbing his thighs and cock through his pajamas. It felt great. Better than great. Felt fucking incredible, to be honest. Toe sucking rocketed up his list of favorite things. And Marton...sweet Jesus. All that quiet intensity focused on him, focused on making him feel good, was enough to leave Karl shaking with lust, with need. His foot twitched, leg jumping as Marton's tongue touched a sensitive spot. Oh, God...Jesus...fuck... Wetness and heat and suction...on his toes. Who would have ever thought his toes were an erogenous zone? But dear God...the things Marton was doing with his mouth and tongue... Marton sucked hard on his big toe again, fingers gliding over his instep, and Karl felt an answering tug in his groin. His whole body was burning, heavy with want. His complete attention was focused on Marton, narrowed down until nothing was left but Marton and toes and heat and wet and...damn. If Marton kept that up, he was going to come right now. "Marton, please..." Karl whimpered, didn't care. Fuck dignity and pride. Didn't matter any more. A soft laugh echoed through the room as Marton released the toe. His tongue licked across the top of Karl's foot and over his ankle, drawing another plaintive whimper from Karl. "Problems, lover?" Marton's voice was husky, low, as he crawled up Karl's body. "Something you want?" "You," Karl replied, breathless. Dark eyes flashed. Then Marton smiled, slow and seductive. "Then take me." Take him? Oh, yes. Sounded like the best fucking idea he'd heard in ages. Take him, indeed. Karl intended to do just that.
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