Dark Fandom/OTP Challenge - DalKenzie Edition (edited)

Sensory deprivation

[[AN: OK, this is possibly skirting the border of my no-sexual-content-chapters rule, but after seeing a couple certain someones freaking out at the mere mention of waxplay in another fic- trolololol, anyone? ;)]]

***

"OK, Mack, how many fingers am I holding up?"

MacKenzie was faintly aware of a dark shape waving in front of his blindfold, but that was about it. "Probably none because you're

cheeky," he grinned.

"Smart-ass," Dalton said with affection and playfully smacked his hip for a delightful sting. "Y'ready?"

A deep breath and MacKenzie went limp as if melting into the mattress. "Uh huh."

Of course he loved being able to look at Dalton- somebody as beautiful as that, how could you not?- and he was positive his lover

liked being able to see him too. But when they played like this, oh god... Mack for sure knew the stories were true about all your

other senses getting heightened when one was cut off, especially when Dalton teased along his skin. Anything from kisses and

tickles to-

He heard a rough scrape and smelled a faint whiff of smoke. Dalton was bringing out the candle this time. So this meant a few

minutes of waiting in delicious agony...he loosely curled and uncurled his fingers and listened to their soft breathing.

"So gorgeous," Dalton's voice floated around him as if disembodied. "All laid out like this, so pretty and willing..."

MacKenzie licked his lips that had suddenly gone dry and whispered, "Just like when I look at you." He was aware of the pressure of his body lying on the mattress, but with no part of himself in his field of vision, he felt barely like an entity.

Dalton made a soft throaty noise that could've been a laugh, and with no word of warning Mack felt the first drips on his stomach, much too heavy to be water.

"Ahh..." MacKenzie felt a similar heat burn on his face and tingle all the way to his outstretched fingers. The first time, yeah, that had definitely stung, but he trusted Dalton with every fibre of his being and now he welcomed this like another delightful little mess the young man loved to leave on his skin. More drips on his stomach now, stopping just short of his waistband.

"Oh my god, Mack, your lines," Dalton whispered in the sweetest awe and began using his fingertips as a paintbrush in the wax. If Mack concentrated hard enough he could discern what his lover was drawing, as he'd often made the same shapes himself. Patterns, swirls, words of love and lust. Drip, drip, fresher wax dropping closer to his chest now, more shapes including an elaborate heart. MacKenzie arched his hips in pleasure when he knew nothing could trickle up to damage his collarbone or neck skin. Dalton said nothing as he continued to trace.

"Mmf-" MacKenzie bit his lower lip at a particularly heavy splash of wax. Nothing but feeling. "Ungh, shit, Dalton-"

"Hmm?" Dalton paused his fingers, and for a moment the loss of touch hurt most of all. "You alright?"

He nodded and parted his lips for a slow breath to pass through. "...perfect."

Another dark shape passed in front of the blindfold, leaning in closer until he felt those sweet lips capturing his.