WIP Wednesday ("Restraint")
Jan. 14th, 2019 08:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
northstarfanMore Mag7/GI Joe fusion. Not sure if this bit is ever going to be attached to anything bigger, but it was inspired by Lazaefair's mention of GI Goodnight seeing Storm in restraints.
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The door to the laboratory suite hissed open exactly twelve hours after Storm Shadow had been locked into restraints. Too precise. Someone who didn’t know a damn thing about him must have decided those twelve hours would be sufficient time to contemplate his situation and consider cooperating.
The light from the overheads gleamed off his presumed interrogator’s bald pate and the gold rim of his ridiculous monocle.
Dr. Venom. If Mindbender expected that Storm Shadow would be unnerved by the presence of a mere underling, he’d either badly misjudged Storm's mettle or finally gone completely insane.
Mostly, Storm was irritated at his current circumstances. He was sore from the capture itself and the annoyingly thorough search that had come afterward. The manacles that sheathed his arms to just below the elbow were pulled back and over his head; concentrating on keeping sufficient blood flow to his arms meant he couldn’t slip into meditation to heal his injuries. His legs, locked to the floor in similarly cumbersome magnetic restraints, were only slightly better off. And while he could have theoretically broken free, it would have required damaging himself enough that he would be left ill-prepared to fight his way out of this remote base. The situation wasn’t so desperate that he needed to resort to extreme measures yet.
“Well. The prodigal traitor returns.” Venom leaned in close, gripped the muzzle that enveloped the lower half of Storm’s face, and jerked his head up to meet his gaze. “I realize you lead a deprived childhood, Mr. Arashikage, but someone should have told you long ago: ‘Those who kill snakes get killed by snakes.’”
Venom cast a meaningful look at the medical equipment around them. “Eventually, of course. Once we have what we need to know.”
A deceptively lazy drawl sounded in Storm’s ear.
“Sergent Cullen? Respectfully request that you shoot that particular SOB twice when you catch up to him.”
The one thing COBRA’s grunts hadn’t found were Breaker’s new toys; microscopic comm units implanted in the ear canal. And “Goodnight” Robicheux had been the loquacious, redneck angel on Storm Shadow’s shoulder since the moment it became clear that splitting up was the only chance of the whole team avoiding capture.
“No love for the classics, Goodnight?” Sam “Bounty Hunter” Chisolm had shown up two hours ago to spell Goodnight from comms duty. To the surprise of no one, Goody had stayed put.
“Sam, ‘The White Man’s Burden’ was one of three poems my daddy could recite from memory. And did. Frequently. Suffice to say, I was sick of Kipling long before I ever read his works.”
"And yet you did."
"If I'm going to hate a man, I like to have an informed opinion."
Goodnight was the primary reason Storm hadn’t bothered dislocating anything in an attempt to free himself yet. He knew help was incoming. For now, keeping himself in readiness until Snake Eyes and his redhead struck was the better option.
Now if only his favorite idiot soldier would stop making him smile with his steady stream of nonsense chatter. Whether or not the muzzle hid his expression was beside the point; if they didn't find their professionalism soon, his lifeline might be more a distraction than a comfort.
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The door to the laboratory suite hissed open exactly twelve hours after Storm Shadow had been locked into restraints. Too precise. Someone who didn’t know a damn thing about him must have decided those twelve hours would be sufficient time to contemplate his situation and consider cooperating.
The light from the overheads gleamed off his presumed interrogator’s bald pate and the gold rim of his ridiculous monocle.
Dr. Venom. If Mindbender expected that Storm Shadow would be unnerved by the presence of a mere underling, he’d either badly misjudged Storm's mettle or finally gone completely insane.
Mostly, Storm was irritated at his current circumstances. He was sore from the capture itself and the annoyingly thorough search that had come afterward. The manacles that sheathed his arms to just below the elbow were pulled back and over his head; concentrating on keeping sufficient blood flow to his arms meant he couldn’t slip into meditation to heal his injuries. His legs, locked to the floor in similarly cumbersome magnetic restraints, were only slightly better off. And while he could have theoretically broken free, it would have required damaging himself enough that he would be left ill-prepared to fight his way out of this remote base. The situation wasn’t so desperate that he needed to resort to extreme measures yet.
“Well. The prodigal traitor returns.” Venom leaned in close, gripped the muzzle that enveloped the lower half of Storm’s face, and jerked his head up to meet his gaze. “I realize you lead a deprived childhood, Mr. Arashikage, but someone should have told you long ago: ‘Those who kill snakes get killed by snakes.’”
Venom cast a meaningful look at the medical equipment around them. “Eventually, of course. Once we have what we need to know.”
A deceptively lazy drawl sounded in Storm’s ear.
“Sergent Cullen? Respectfully request that you shoot that particular SOB twice when you catch up to him.”
The one thing COBRA’s grunts hadn’t found were Breaker’s new toys; microscopic comm units implanted in the ear canal. And “Goodnight” Robicheux had been the loquacious, redneck angel on Storm Shadow’s shoulder since the moment it became clear that splitting up was the only chance of the whole team avoiding capture.
“No love for the classics, Goodnight?” Sam “Bounty Hunter” Chisolm had shown up two hours ago to spell Goodnight from comms duty. To the surprise of no one, Goody had stayed put.
“Sam, ‘The White Man’s Burden’ was one of three poems my daddy could recite from memory. And did. Frequently. Suffice to say, I was sick of Kipling long before I ever read his works.”
"And yet you did."
"If I'm going to hate a man, I like to have an informed opinion."
Goodnight was the primary reason Storm hadn’t bothered dislocating anything in an attempt to free himself yet. He knew help was incoming. For now, keeping himself in readiness until Snake Eyes and his redhead struck was the better option.
Now if only his favorite idiot soldier would stop making him smile with his steady stream of nonsense chatter. Whether or not the muzzle hid his expression was beside the point; if they didn't find their professionalism soon, his lifeline might be more a distraction than a comfort.
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Date: 2019-01-14 02:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-14 02:38 pm (UTC)Will comment later. Too busy stemming the ruddy great nosebleed you caused with this ficlet
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Date: 2019-01-14 02:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-14 02:39 pm (UTC)Also: after it’s all over, in revenge for Goodnight’s unprofessional conduct during this op, the second they get some time alone Storm gags Goodnight with one of Storm’s own face masks and proceeds to go down on him for half an hour before he lets Goodnight come. One simply does not make the Great and Terrible Ninja Storm Shadow smile involuntarily for twelve hours straight without suffering the consequences for it.
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Date: 2019-01-14 02:40 pm (UTC)The part that's going to get Goody bound, gagged, and tormented is the sound he made when Scarlett, with her A/V kit intact and weapons at the ready, stepped into the lab and gave everyone in the comms room an eyeful of nude, restrained Storm Shadow. Neither of them will ever live that down.
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Date: 2019-01-14 02:41 pm (UTC).......Jesus fuck. Yeah, okay, that’s not a half-hour-level offense, that’s going to get him a full hour of being edged while Storm makes him beg for it until he deigns to let Goody come. Who proceeds to come so hard he almost knocks himself out on the headboard Storm has him tied to. He never lives down that particular head wound, or the rope-shaped bruises on his wrists, or the prominent string of bruises Storm sucked into his neck like an obscene necklace, either. (Storm figures if they’re going to be this obvious, he might as well double down and basically put up a THIS IS MINE billboard all over Goody.)
(Outlaw, baffled: “I thought ninjas were supposed to be subtle and mysterious.”
Bounty Hunter: *gestures eloquently* “Have you met these ninjas? Any of them?”)
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Date: 2019-01-14 02:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-14 02:41 pm (UTC)Hey, wow, you just turned my shameless commentfic smut into something full of tenderness and feels. For GI Joe. You're a wizard, Northstarfan.
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Date: 2019-01-14 02:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-14 02:42 pm (UTC)“You’re thinking of me naked and tied up again, aren’t you.”
Goody is too well-trained to startle, not really - even if he had, indeed, been lost in a full-color daydream, equal parts memory and fantasy, of said blessed scenario. Not when the dumb animal part of him is so desperately attuned to Storm Shadow these days, knowing on some unconscious level when and where the other man is nearby. No one else in the goddamn world could get away with approaching him from behind like that. But Storm can. Because Goody already knows he’s there.
So he doesn’t startle, but he does flush red as a tomato, darting a glance around to confirm they’re still alone on this level’s common room. He tries on a sheepish smile as Storm comes around into his field of vision. “Don’t mean anythin’ by it, cher. You know I’d never ask for something like that—”
“As well you shouldn’t,” Storm interrupts, mouth in a flat line, dark eyes impassive. Goody shuts his own mouth and looks back at him, which is how he catches the miraculous moment when the corner of Storm’s mouth ticks up, ever so minutely.
“You would like that, though, wouldn’t you?” he says, tone shifting to something more thoughtful, and the same dumb animal part of Goody metaphorically gulps. Prey instinct.
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Date: 2019-01-14 02:43 pm (UTC)It's not...the same.
Even with the precautions - wrists and arms tied by himself, the knots easily slipped if need be, legs unbound, not actually tied to the chair he's seated in - he'd expected to have to grit his teeth and reach for a meditative state to get through it.
But Goody is nothing like any of his previous captors, nothing like his old training masters. An obvious distinction that becomes doubly so as he walks into his quarters all unknowing, catches sight of Storm in the middle of the room, and freezes for a length of time that would be comical - if the adrenaline rush of discovery (even planned) didn't get Storm half-hard instead, to his faint annoyance.
At least he can watch Goody get hard in his impractically snug pants, too.
"Jesus fucking goddamned Christ," Goody finally manages to croak, and Storm can't help the satisfied smile that flickers over his face over achieving the feat of shocking Goodnight Robicheaux into silence.
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Date: 2019-01-14 02:43 pm (UTC)There'd also be the additional gratification in Goodnight's profanity being entirely desire and admiration directed Storm's way (as opposed to last time, when it was shock and embarrassment followed by anger). But not so much as Goody reaching Storm in three long strides and falling to his knees like his legs have been kicked out from under him.
Which was the main point of this exercise, of course.
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Date: 2019-01-14 02:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-14 02:44 pm (UTC)Jinx: "You want 24/7 subtle and mysterious, you want that guy." *points to Pathfinder*
Pathfinder: *doesn't roll his eyes but gives off the strong impression of doing so anyway* "You trying to fill out your stereotype bingo card or what?"
Jinx: "Yup, and I just need one more to get a diagonal, so where's Outlaw? I haven't insulted him yet. Today."
The Joes, collectively: "Ninjas."
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Date: 2019-01-14 02:46 pm (UTC)Storm teaching Billy to ambush Snake (all in the name of the boy's continued education, of course!). Retaliation is swift and humiliating - Snake tattles to Goodnight. There is A Talk about Storm passing his issues on to Billy, who already has a cartload of his own to deal with. Storm vows vengeance against his sword-brother.
Flint suggesting Billy might be better off with the "real" ninjas in Clan Arashikage if safety is a concern. Storm getting his hands around Flint's neck. Snake intervening before actual murder takes place (but ends up stapling Flint to the hangar wall in a cocoon anyway because seriously, man, wtf was that?).
Jinx, Scarlett, Nanika and Jaye ganging up on Storm and Snake, because they take themselves too damn seriously. There is glitter involved. All four (and a half) ninjas vanish for two days when Roadblock takes a round of friendly fire.
Storm using Goodnight as a pillow in the common area while The Pit is waiting for news on an op. Even dozing, his expression dares anyone to say *anything*.
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Date: 2019-01-14 02:47 pm (UTC)"Storm using Goodnight as a pillow in the common area while The Pit is waiting for news on an op. Even dozing, his expression dares anyone to say *anything*."
After that afternoon, for the next few days Goody has enough sparkles and happy hums issuing from his person to fuel an entire Lisa Frank advent calendar. He's only eventually out-sparkled by Storm himself following the glitter hand grenade incident.
(Roadblock knows good and well that Storm and Billy are hiding out in Goody's quarters, Snake is in Scarlett's, and Jinx and Nanika are in Jaye's. But he bides his time for his revenge. It involves confetti, hair dye, bribing the laundry crew to switch out certain clothing items in certain ninjas' wardrobes, and some truly horrific dubstep pop. Pathfinder captures the whole thing in 4K definition video - broadcast live to the Pit's internal network and encrypted and uploaded in real-time to multiple redundant off-site servers.)
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Date: 2019-01-14 02:47 pm (UTC)But since it's such a small thing he can do to please Goodnight (and pleasing Goodnight is entirely to Storm's advantage), Storm Shadow does make an effort to be more tactile with him. Even when others are around.
(Snake and Jinx immediately shut down the idea of there being any revenge for the laundry incident. That's an escalation where there can be no winners - and besides that, Roadblock fights ugly. And, honestly, it's probably best not to antagonize the man who can still hand Storm over to people who'll stick him right back in a place like Einsargen. So they just have to put up with the daily viewings until the Pit finds something else to collectively amuse themselves... however long that takes.)
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Date: 2019-01-14 02:48 pm (UTC)"(and pleasing Goodnight is entirely to Storm's advantage)"
Yep, that's all it is. Aaaaaall it is. Pure, cold strategery. There are absolutely no endorphins whatsoever getting released into Storm's nervous system from the surfeit of human touch that he's receiving these days, the longest sustained period of regular, non-hostile skin-to-skin contact he's ever experienced in his entire life.
He does not miss Goody's voice, hands, or body when he goes on ops. Does not acknowledge the persistent memories of curling up with Goody in the bunk that he spends far more time in than in his own assigned bunk these days when he's spending yet another cold night in a desert or forest or shitty safehouse somewhere. And definitely, absolutely does not ever admit to actively trying to make Goody laugh. Never.
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Date: 2019-01-14 02:48 pm (UTC)Storm absolutely has not learned to read Goodnight's tells. He definitely does not half-doze on those nights so as to be awake and ready to help Goody exorcise his demons when he wakes gasping in a cold sweat, trying to tell dead men that the intel was wrong. He doesn't dodge and block impassively as Goody swings wild, making his quarters into a sparring ring as he and curses the whole world rotten, until he finally collapses, sheened in new shade of sweat and no closer to peace than when he woke.
And it's definitely someone else who gets Goodnight cleaned up and down to the mess hall for an early start to the day, since there's no chance of Goody getting back to sleep, and having someone fake-sleeping next to him puts Storm more on edge than someone actually awake in the same room.
Storm Shadow truly has no idea who this person Goodnight so adores is, but he doesn't seem to be going anywhere.
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Date: 2019-01-14 02:48 pm (UTC)Also, the daily Laundry Incident viewings stop after about a week, but for at least a month Outlaw and Flint take great pleasure in mentioning the word "glitter" within Storm or Snake's hearing to watch them try not to shudder. (There's definitely still glitter ground into the grout in Goody's shower. Somehow.) Thing is, Roadblock might be off-limits...but those two aren't. And Flint still hasn't learned his lesson from the cocoon incident. Let's just say, he and Outlaw never look at silly string the same way ever again.
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Date: 2019-01-14 02:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-14 02:49 pm (UTC)"And no poison, either," Lady Jaye says firmly.
Storm folds his arms. Were this literally anyone else on the planet, the expression on his face would be called pouting, but this is Storm, so it's not.
"Listen. I was here for the Bad Taco Meat Fiasco of 2011, and I've seen what Flint does to the toilets when he's sick. You do not want to go down that road. Trust me."