I'm serious, this lives up to the limits of its T rating.


Kellach chewed on his lip nervously as he stood outside Moyra's door. It wasn't that he didn't trust Driskoll, but his brother had had an interesting look on his face when he told his Kellach that Moyra wanted to see him tonight.

Scuffing the toe of his boot on the pavement, Kellach tugged his fingers through his hair briefly, but then again when he found snarls he hadn't noticed before. He should have run a comb through his hair before coming over here.

Not that Moyra would likely notice or care. This was Moyra, one of his best friends. Nothing had changed.

Just everything.

Stop, he chided himself, I just want my friend back. But he couldn't shake the lingering sensations from their first, and second kiss, and how much he wanted to do it again.

The sound of the door opening startled him, and he almost jumped back a step as Moyra appeared in the doorway, fully dressed with her knives sheathed at her waist.

Kellach didn't quite know what to say. The blood pounding in his ears and stuttering breath settled for, "Um… hi."

Moyra's expression was guarded, before she took a deep breath. "Hi," she exhaled the word.

There was another awkward period of silence. Moyra's face was nearly blank, but behind the façade Kellach could see an anticipatory nervousness that he didn't know how to take.

"Should I-"

"Your wrists."

They both spoke at the same time, just like they so often used to. They met each other's eyes, a moment of quiet before Moyra spoke again. "Hold out your wrists."

Kellach was confused. "What?" He asked.

From behind her, Moyra produced a length of rope. Kellach blinked, looked at the rope, glanced down at his wrists as his hands subconsciously balled into fists. Then it clicked. "What?" He squeaked, looked at her again. Was she serious?

Moyra just met his gaze. "Do you trust me?" She asked, and Kellach could hear how she was struggling to hide the nervousness in her voice. But she sounded sure in her resolve.

They stared at each other for a long moment, each watching the other's reaction. Hearts pounding, breath bated, neither speaking, until Moyra asked again, "Do you trust me?"

Kellach looked at her, his best friend, or something, whatever they were now. The answer was simple. The answer had, and would always be simple.

Kellach didn't speak, but silently held out his wrists in answer to the question, never breaking his gaze.

Moyra took a shuddering breath, and nodded. "Thank you," She whispered quietly, and lifted the rope as she began to wrap it around his wrists. She broke their stare to weave the knots, but Kellach couldn't stop looking at her; the red of her hair, the light flush on her cheeks. How could he deny her anything?

Moyra tied off the last knot and Kellach tested the bonds instinctively. They were tight. Not so tight as to cut off circulation, but tight enough that he would not be getting out of them without help. His heart rate accelerated even more, and something throbbed in the pit of his stomach. What was that?

Moyra held about two feet of loose ends in her hand, and meeting his eyes again, she stepped back into her house, tugging him with her. The tug was more of a suggestion than an order, as if she was still timid about this whole situation, but Kellach followed willingly. If this were what it took for her to trust him again, he would do anything.

He was lead through the kitchen and back into her room, where she directed him to sit on her bed, which was located in the center of the back wall, with walking room on either side. Kellach sat, and then was pulled onto his back as Moyra tied his wrists to the headboard above his head.

There was that throb in the pit of his stomach again. Tied down on Moyra's bed, helpless to stop her from doing anything, unable to reach to touch her if he needed to as she stood at the side of the bed. There was an answering throb from the lower regions of his body. St. Cuthbert, not now! Kellach thought to himself. This was the opposite of productive for this conversation. Kellach shifted a little on the bed, readjusting himself to hopefully conceal what this situation was doing to him from Moyra.

He tried to break the silence, which now felt almost stifling by asking, "So… why the rope?"

Moyra didn't answer immediately, choosing instead to run her eyes from his bound wrists, down his body and then back up. She paced to the end of the bed, and then back to his other side. She walked behind him again, before sitting down to his right, placing a hand on his chest.

Kellach's breathing hitched. He had not expected the contact. Moyra started tracing patterns on his chest with her right hand, ghosting up and tracing down the tendons in his throat. Kellach's breathing got shallower as he twisted his neck to allow her more access to the skin. "Moyra, what are you doing?" He breathed, fighting his body's instinctive reaction to her touches.

The touches moved back down his chest and over his hips, and Kellach did his best to control the shudder that passed through his body as her hand strayed close to sensitive areas. "Moyra!"

And still she didn't stop. Her fingers ran down on leg and back up the other, dancing on the sensitive skin of his inner thighs and back up to trace circles on his stomach. Kellach found himself cursing the stupid wizard apprentice robes he was wearing for being so thick, but at the same time being a little horrified that this was going like this.

He had not expected this evening to go like this at all. He thought maybe they'd talk or she'd punch him or something, anything besides this teasing touch!

He wanted everything to stop.

He never wanted it to end.

He let out a startled groan as her hand brushed over a sensitive area of his inner hip. He pressed his head back into the pillow, arms straining against the rope as his body twisted. "Gods, Moyra!"

All of the sudden he felt his chin gripped tightly and his head jerked up and he opened squeezed-shut eyes to meet hers. He was heaving like he'd just run a mile through Promise, his whole body trembled, and there was no way that Moyra hadn't noticed how much he was enjoying this.

"Moyra, what, what?" He was lost for words, just caught up in her green gaze.

"How do you feel?" She asked, all intense stare and tight grip.

"How do… what?" He was still having issues forming coherent sentences, but there was a growing fear in his stomach.

"How do you feel?" Moyra shook his jaw, just one, sharp shake.

"What…?" The overwhelming sensations and mental onslaught muted him.

"How does this make you feel!" And with her other hand she gripped him straight through his pants.

Kellach swore, his whole body tightening as he thrashed in straight up shock combined with the arousal and heat of the moment. He came down from the initial shock and felt something within him break. "I don't know!" He cried.

"How do you not know?" She snapped, gripping hard and his body shook again as a whimper was pulled from his mouth.

"I can't, please…"

"Please what?" The hand on his chin migrated down to tighten on his throat.

Kellach swore again as tears rose in his eyes "St. Cuthbert, Moyra!" He felt helpless, trapped. Scared of what she might do.

"Please what?"

"Please just-" Kellach's hands twisted against the rope, looking for some give, trying to escape.

"Just what?" The grip on his throat was tightening, and Kellach wondered if it would bruise. The way the finger marks on Moyra's throat had.

"Please stop," He croaked out, eyes still closed against the tears threatening the break through. "Please." He couldn't process what was happening as her hand stroked him and the lust and fear confused his brain. He lost all sense where he was and who he was with. He just wanted it to stop.

"This is what you did to me," Moyra whispered in his ear. "Made me feel trapped, helpless, but at the same time craving more. Knowing it was wrong but still wanting it."

Kellach's wrists were on fire from his struggles, but he couldn't help but keep fighting. He sensed a slight change in the atmosphere of the room, as the presence above him seemed to realize that something was wrong. "Kellach!" An open-handed slap to his face. "For Gods' sake look at me!" But he wasn't really there anymore. Too caught up in his body. "Kellach!"

"Please stop." He whispered again. "Gods Moyra, please stop." Tears squeezed out from under his eyelids. "Please, please stop."

And all of the sudden, the hands on him were gone. Kellach felt the tears begin to roll down his cheeks as his hands were unbound from the headboard and he felt the rope around his wrists loosen. He let out a sob as arms were wrapped around him and he buried his head in her shoulder. He swore quietly and Moyra just pulled him in tighter, whispering comforting things in his ear as he came back down from his endorphins.

Slowly, he became cognizant of the world around him again and after a while, he pulled back and met Moyra's eyes, only to discover that she was crying too. "Gods, Moyra, I'm so sorry," He whispered. "You must have felt so helpless, and I am so, so sorry-"

And then she kissed him. It was a hard kiss, both parties emotional and channeling all the pent up emotions into the kiss, that turned into touching from both parties. Clothing was thrown over chairs and tables. Moyra ended up on her back on the bed, with Kellach positioned over her again, a much different scene from the one that had begun it all.

Kellach whispered, "Do you trust me?", a slight, teasing grin on his face.

Moyra met his gaze, a tender look of comfort and resolution in her eyes.



If Driskoll noticed the marks, he didn't comment. He was just glad his brother and best friend were happy again.

So that's that. I have some other old KotSD drafts on my laptop that I might be willing to dust off if there's enough attention and demand. If not, I hope you enjoyed this one and if you did and want to see more (or not) let me know.

Thank you for reading!