Physical Therapy for Sist3r_Sin

[red_peril]

"Come on, don't stop now. Give me ten more reps." The physical therapist was very attractive. He had dark hair and blue eyes that had a mischievous sparkle to them. Though he seemed irritatingly pleased at the pain that Illya was experiencing. The tag on his t-shirt read N. Solo, PT. The dark t-shirt showed off his own impressively muscular physique.

Illya had been glad to get the stupid splint off. Not so much to meet the physical therapist. But if he intended ever to raise his right arm above his head again, he would have to do it. So, sweating and growling as he lifted the weight ten more times. He kept his movements precise, but by the end, his arm was shaking, his shoulder throbbing, and he had a keen desire to punch the physical therapist in the face. No matter how attractive that face was. Still, he didn't stop until the reps were done.

"Good job," he said as Illya set down the weights. Illya was panting and his weak muscles trembled. "Lay down and we'll get some deep ultrasonic massage for it. It'll make it feel really good." Illya laid back on the bench as he was asked. He hated feeling weak. But nearly two full months in a hospital bed with no exercise at all had made Illya lose some of his muscle tone. Especially in his injured right arm. It would take a while to get back into shape. He watched the physical therapist roll a piece of equipment into the room.

After putting on a pair of gloves, he squirted some gel onto Illya's wounded shoulder. He let out a little gasp at how cold it was. Then Solo turned on the massager and applied the machine to his shoulder. "Bozhe moy..." he sighed as the ultrasonic waves and the gel started to heat as well as cool.

"What?" Solo asked.

"Is Russian for 'My god.' That feels very good," he sighed, relaxing as Solo worked on him. This angle gave him a different perspective on the man's face. Illya's eyes were especially drawn to his lips. They looked so kissable. Solo's blue eyes caught him staring and he smiled. He had not been attracted like this to anyone other than Sinthia in a very long time.

"It should feel good," Solo said, very amused by the Russian's attention. "You have beautiful eyes, by the way."

"Really?" he looked at the man's eyes directly. Could it be that he was feeling a similar attraction? Illya's eyes softened and he chanced a smile.

Comments

[abyssum_invocat]

With her hips canted as they were, his cock kept sliding against every pleasurable nerve she had and sent them all firing in succession several times, leaving Sinthia limp and shivering, moaning as her head fell back. She took a long, deep breath in and held herself to Illya as she spasmed, rocking and letting the aftershocks buffet her.

"Don't push it," she whispered to him, biting down gently on the edge of his earlobe, rubbing her hands over his shoulder and back.

[red_peril]

He felt her tighten and spasm around him as she came, the sensation of it pushing him over the edge. Illya cried out, stilling above her as he came. When he was done, he carefully flopped over on his back, panting.

"It's okay," he assured her. "I did not hurt it. It was just warning." Illya rolled his right shoulder. He would put a little ice on it later.

[abyssum_invocat]

Sinthia sighed when he fell to his back and pulled out of her, rolling to her side against him with a lazy stretch. "You need ice," she murmured, lifting herself up onto her elbows to kiss him gently, sweetly, longingly.

She still wanted him, but it would have to wait. "Let me get it for you."

[red_peril]

"Hmmm... Don't go yet," he reached out and took her hand with his left, drawing her back to him for another kiss. "I don't need ice just yet. I need you."

[abyssum_invocat]

"You need ice," she repeated, but let herself be drawn back to bed, laying next to Illya with a sweet kiss, possessive and lovely as she traced her fingers down patterns of ink and muscle.

"I don't want your nurse angry with me."

[red_peril]

He deepened the kiss, "I know, but right now I need you more." Illya smiled, loving the feeling of her fingers tracing his ink. "Let him, perhaps I can watch him spank you."

[abyssum_invocat]

Sinthia snorted a laugh, momentarily inelegant but startlingly real as she did and settled back down with Illya. "Really? you want to watch him spank me?"

[red_peril]

He laughed, loving to see Sinthia laughing and happy, instead of worried, even if it was a bit snorty. "Maybe," he laughed teasing. "Would you like him to spank you?" he reached down left handed and grabbed her ass, giving her a little squeeze.

[abyssum_invocat]

"I've never been spanked," she confessed, still laughing a bit as she dipped her head and kissed his chest over his heart. His squeeze to her backside made her arch and squirm.

[red_peril]

"Never? Not even by your parents for being bad girl?" he teased. Enjoying her reaction, he squeezed her ass again. "Though being spanked for pleasure is nothing like being spanked for punishment."

[abyssum_invocat]

At his mention of her parents, Sinthia felt more than saw the flicker of shadow, a pulling-back, cross her face; she hadn't ever fully explained that situation and had hoped she'd never have to. She shook her head, and didn't get into it now, just bowing up against him and relishing the touches, the closeness. The reality that he was home and here with her made them both very happy.

"You seem knowledgeable about this idea. Is there something I should know?"

[red_peril]

He did notice her reaction, but she seemed to shake it off. Illya had been teasing her. Her question made him laugh a bit.

"No, not really." Illya leaned over to kiss her again.

[abyssum_invocat]

"Not really? Is that all?" she asked, head tilted.

"Come on. Tell me what you like about him." Since she knows what he likes about her.

[red_peril]

"His eyes are kind and beautiful. They remind me of yours actually," he ran the fingers of his left hand through her hair. "They are very blue except for upper quadrant in left eye which is brown." Where Sinthia's were brown with blue flecks that were so pretty. Illya blushed a little. "I know it is just silly crush. Is not real like I have with you. Every time he leans down over me, I want to lean up and kiss his lips. But I don't want to get him in trouble at hospital."

[abyssum_invocat]

"So he has heterochromia," she chuckled. "He does have very pretty blue eyes. Much like yours. Mine aren't so light."

She ducked her head under his hand and smiled, tilting her chin up to kiss his jaw and tug him down to kiss his lips. "It's okay to have a silly crush, Illya," Sinthia laughed. "It really is. It's cute on you, seeing the way you watch his face. He was watching your ass, so there's something there from him too."

[red_peril]

"Da," Though the color of Illya's eyes was a little lighter, like blue sky. Solo's were darker blue like the depths of the sea. It was strange admitting this to his girlfriend. "Really? He watched my ass?"

[abyssum_invocat]

"Oh yeah," she laughed. "All the way out the door. I think it's funny that you're interested in each other. I think he's cute too," she confessed.

[red_peril]

"Huh," Illya couldn't help but laugh. It was nice that she was not jealous. But it's not like anything was going to happen between them. "He has nice ass too. But right now, it is not his ass I am interested in." Illya carefully scooped her into his arms and pulled Sinthia close.

Once he had told her about his crush, it seemed to lose it's hold over him. Perhaps it was that it would be taboo that fired it. That and he had been missing being with Sinthia for quite some time. And kissing her put Solo completely out of his mind.

After a couple of weeks, though, he needed to get out of the house. More than just going to the grocery store and his physical therapy appointments. Even if just for a little while.

[abyssum_invocat]

After a few weeks Sinthia found herself relaxing to the idea of going out with Illya somewhere--and why not? She hadn't heard anything out of the ordinary from anyone, and she was getting tired of having to exist between work, her apartment, and physical therapy without any break to the three locations. So when Illya had seen an advertisement for an Italian fashion museum exhibit she was more than happy to go with him.

She even let him pick through her closet, something she knew he enjoyed, while she was in the shower, just to see what he came up with. He made a surprisingly good personal consultant for such things, picking out dark jeans and a Cavalli silk tunic in cool teal-y green. "Some day I should go and pick out your clothes for you," she teased, getting dressed before they headed out to her car.

[red_peril]

"You could, you have very good taste," he said, helping her to put on a necklace. "And you know what looks good on me." He wore jeans too with teal jacket and a lavender turtleneck. He was excited about going out tonight and seeing the exhibit.

He still wasn't driving, even though his shoulder was now mostly healed. They were lucky they found a parking space not far from the museum.

[abyssum_invocat]

"Everything looks good on you," Sinthia replied, twisting her hair up off her neck. "And it looks better off you, on the floor," she teased. She knew he was wearing a turtleneck to conceal the hickey she'd given him (by accident, but still) at the base of his throat.

She helped Illya out of her somewhat low-set car, and locked it with the remote key, happy to be out and about with her boyfriend, to have some of that worry eased. "So, Italian fashion. Are you going to give me a primer before we dive into this exhibit?" she asked.

[red_peril]

"Thank you," he said laughing. "The same could be said of you. I know what we'll be doing when we get home."

It was a couple of blocks walk from the museum. When he got out of the car, he offered her his arm. "Okay. Before World War 2, Italy had a flourishing fashion industry. When Mussolini came to power, that changed. Everything had to be state approved, color, design, material. Anyone caught using things that weren't state sanctioned could be jailed or shot. In just a few years, their fashion industry was completely destroyed. There was a Countess, a fashion designer, I don't remember her name, but she defied Mussolini and spent ten years in prison. When Mussolini was overthrown, she was released. She was married to a Frenchman, who was also a fashion designer. After the war, the two of them basically rebuilt the Italian fashion industry. My mother told me the story when I was little. She admired the Countess."

[abyssum_invocat]

"It's a nice story," she said, wrapping her arm around his and holding his hand as she listened to him talk.

"I'm glad you found this exhibit, I wouldn't have looked for it," Sinthia murmured. She herself hadn't particularly planned on going anywhere this weekend before Illya had shown her the museum leaflet; she'd spent two days having to dress up for a particular client at her job, being the particular kind of man.

"Have you ever given thought to being a fashion designer?" she asks. "You already arrange my clothes and yours."

[red_peril]

"I have been thinking about doing something along those lines," he said as they reached the museum and he opened the door for her. It was true, he did arrange their clothes. Illya knew that he was lucky that Sinthia allowed him to do that.

He was excited to see this exhibit. They wandered through it looking at the amazing clothing and reading about the history of it. Illya wore an expression on his face not unlike the one he had when they'd seen the Faberge exhibit.

[abyssum_invocat]

"You'd look good in that," Sinthia laughed, pointing to one of the suits worn in Roman Holiday, displayed next to a dress from the same movie. Sinthia was enjoying herself with an entirely normal afternoon-to-evening date with her boyfriend, bonding over something he liked.

Her smile grew when she spotted a somewhat familiar head of dark hair between them and the next exhibit section. "Illya. Look," she said, nodding that way. "Do you want to catch up to him?"