Just some more Yelgrun/Keevan time. Enjoy!

Again, I own nothing.

Keevan liked it rough.

Yelgrun liked to be rough with him.

And it did not matter which fashion was used.

Ever since the older Vorta came onto the other months ago, the younger Field Supervisor had not been able to forget about how Yelgrun rammed into him in the manner which matched his words of how his fantasies as well as Keevan's distant, arrogant manner kept him waiting long enough - and showed him that it was worth the while.

Keevan himself had felt such fire that told him he had missed out on such worldly pleasure. He never thought he would admit to such things, but he had never felt so alive since Yelgrun took him into his bed. He still detested him for his lack of patience and temper, but at least he was a sizzling lover, driven by impulse and began to teach Keevan some techniques.

One of Yelgrun's favorite styles was torture.

It wasn't in any means like the methods the Cardassians or any other races used, but the sadomasochistic sexual methods known to any race - mysterious as Risian jamaharon - that the Vorta delighted in learning against them, but S&M was another matter altogether that was seldom involved. It involved pain mixed with pleasure, leather and whips, and bindings. Keevan discovered he liked to be bound naked and blindfolded. It was the mystery of wondering where his dominant was and then, out of the blue, bring the whip onto his buttocks, rib cage and other sensitive parts of his body. The sting to come would send his nerves into shock, but to follow was a tingle of pleasure that he wanted more.

That is, until the pattern of bruises eventually became enough that his body began to burn as though literally on fire. This sometimes irritated Yelgrun because he never got enough of seeing him whipped and sweating, bruised sometimes - the sight was erotic to the much rougher Vorta. That was what made them both different from their fellow Vorta; they liked rough edges.

And now Keevan was in bed, his wrists bound above his head and his legs spread for Yelgrun. The other man liked to keep his clothes on except for what he kept inside his pants; his body was not in the best of shapes unlike Keevan's, whose lay bare for his pleasure. This made Keevan angry to know he was a pet to play with, but at the same time, he wasn't sure if he wanted to see Yelgrun as much as he let Yelgrun see him. He wasn't sure if the sight of what penetrated him belonged to would please him as much as the latter did.

Another thing that made him angry was the fact Yelgrun enjoyed tormenting the young Vorta with his hands as well as - "Say please."

He hissed, squeezing his eyes closed. "I will not."

Bony finger grasped his thighs and squeezed, almost bruising. Keevan hissed, arms straining and pulling at his bindings. "If you don't, then I'll make this lack of contact go on for my satisfaction," Yelgrun teased.

"I hate you," the other man spat, and opened his eyes to glare up at him.

"Doesn't matter to me. Just that you say please and I will do just that."

He gritted his teeth. He wanted to spit at him, hiss a leash of obscenities that could come to mind, but that would only please his dominant even more. He would NOT submit; this was a game he liked to play on his part, and they would keep on playing this to the very end. "You will have to do more than that to get me to beg," Keevan snarled, his hips twisting only to be gripped by those hands, holding him in place.

And then, one hand moved from a hip, trailing over his firm stomach and upwards to pinch a nipple, drawing a gasp from Keevan that he suppressed with all his might. Then Yelgrun's hand snaked down and came between his legs - and this time Keevan could not keep himself from gasping aloud, his lips parting to compress. "Who's defiant now, little one?" his partner sneered back, leaning down so his face was close enough to let his hot breath wash over Keevan's face, the latter turning his face away and baring his teeth in another snarl.

He hated Yelgrun for winning - but it was what rewarded him with the release he needed.

"Are we going to stop fighting now?"

Well, what the hell?

"Please," Keevan ground out, keeping his face away and his eyes wide, facing the opposite direction and teeth still exposed. "Do it - make me yours, you bastard."

Yelgrun grinned and pulled back into his sitting position. "That's all I needed."

With that, he thrust himself into Keevan.

A harsh cry tore from his throat, and his body arched upwards, back threatening to snap with the brute invasion. Wet heat seeped between him and Yelgrun; he must have already begun bleeding. This was another part they began to like and share: bloodlust. He would cry harder and harder, words inescapable between them, his loins on fire with the roughness. Yelgrun pounded into him, bruising him and bleeding him, his perfection marred with bites and marks, reminding him that he belonged to the one above him and no one else. Not that Keevan ever cared in the slightest. However, ownership? In Yelgrun's dreams.

The climax was hot and wet, blood and seed in one. With a grunt, sated, Yelgrun pulled himself from Keevan's throbbing core, smirking when he saw the young man's blood staining the sheets. But, as Keevan had grown used to this, he was not done with him. Untying the other's wrists from the headboard, he did what he loved best that Keevan did, too, and did not protest; he covered his partner's body with his hands and lips, kissing and nibbling every part of him. One hand reached down to ruffle the deliciously musky curls between Keevan's legs, then took his limp sex into his mouth. Keevan gasped but didn't move a muscle; he was too tired. However, Yelgrun didn't care. Then he shifted and turned the exhausted Keevan over on his stomach.

"I'm not in the mood..." He sighed. His limbs were numb and sore, but the other man's hands did not stop caressing his back and firm rear end, sliding into him afterwards.

"You'll be all on your own after this one. You're mine, remember?"

Keevan closed his eyes and said no more, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep. His conscious was telling him that he was being used for someone else's selfish desire, but what could he do about it? It gave him the pleasure he wanted, too.

However, he wasn't completely helpless, and he knew it.

He belonged to no one, really. No one but himself. Yelgrun might get a scream out of him, ravage and ravish his body and being, touch him whenever he pleased, but he was still his own, independent man.

S&M was used in my very first oneshot, "Sweet Vorta Fantasy", but in an ambiguous light now. But it's very fitting for the relationship between these two.