Tear me from these complicated questions
Taking all the empty spaces inside me
I don't want to hear these simple answers
But complicated answers never did you any justice anyway - "Complicated Questions", Finger Eleven
The thing is, Vic, while good in bed in one sense, is very bad in bed in another sense.
Namely, sleeping. Sure, he goes to bed when she hauls him into it, but the man doesn't actually sleep. He lies in bed and stares at the ceiling and thinks about universes where all of them die, maybe drifting off for four hours or so in between. She's caught him dreaming once, but she had to wake him up when he started screaming.
She wishes he could stop thinking for a while so he could get some actual rest.
She's not a psychologist. She's not even a counsellor.
She only knows a few ways to short-circuit his brain, and one of them is this.
"Okay, baby, just hold still for me," she says. He can struggle against the bonds all he wants later, but she needs to get the tension right so he doesn't have ugly rope marks later. She's managed to maneuver him into a spread-eagle position and tie him to the bed - not that it takes much effort. She only does this when he's at the stage of sleep deprivation that is downright worrying, so he's pretty malleable then. She'd even managed to get his clothes off without much fuss.
His eyes are shut but his lips are moving and his brow is furrowed. Helena kisses his forehead.
"Is everything all right? No numbness?"
Vic nods, his eyes half-opened now, and murmurs something that includes the word "fine". He always gets a bit hazy when they do this, as if the ropes on his body help to align his erratic thought process. It's not like Helena dislikes his normal self, tense and thrumming with nervous energy as he sees the invisible connections between things, waving his hands around as he tries to explain it to her. In fact, sometimes she envies his ability to perceive, but she quashes those thoughts, because she knows what his ability leads to.
"I'll need you to test these," and that's when Vic starts writhing, trying to break free. He's good at finding weak points (in all aspects). But Vic won't do it now, because he knows he needs this to function, and because she is extremely competent at tying knots.
But enough with the ego-boost. Vic's struggles have ceased, as he's probably figured out that he's not going anywhere in the near future, and the tension has melted out of his body with that realisation.
"So, what were you thinking about all day?" she asks as she runs a hand down his bare chest. It's glistening with sweat from the struggles.
There's a stifled gasp from him.
"Alternate universes - divergence at certain points in continuity - bound to be a time where - ah!"
Her hand's reached his cock, which gets harder as she strokes it gently, and it's nice to know that even Vic can be affected by such base desires. Sort of flattering that he only reacts like this to her.
"A time where what?"
"Where they...figure out how to utilise the bleed between dimensions...ohhh, Helena," Vic moans, almost unable to continue, because Helena has climbed on top of him.
She's wet already, but she has to hold off, because Q needs to be so worn out that he stops thinking about anything besides her and how good he feels at the moment. That is the only thing that's stopping her from just grinding against him until her orgasm, which seems pretty imminent at the moment.
It's easy for him to be inside her, he's already erect and ready to go and she's so wet that it slips in without much effort.
She has to move, as generally being tied spreadeagle to the bed doesn't really do much for your ability to actively participate in sexual acts, unless Vic had learnt some new form of martial arts in the past few days. Establishing a rhythm, slow and steady, she uses her legs as leverage, moving up and down on his cock as he closes his eyes, taking it, feeling her weight on him.
She runs one hand through his damp hair, and he makes a sound, but tenderness and kissing can be saved for after this, when he can actually drift off to sleep instead of the feigned half-sleep that he usually tries to do.
She maintains the rhythm, a steady up-down up-down, slower than a pulse but still regular, and reaches down to play with his balls.
This elicits a soft noise from him, and as she continues, it gets louder until he's out-and-out moaning. He's so turned on he's lost his control, or whatever enables him to speak in that weird low inflection when he's being the Question, savior of the universe through elaborate research projects and punching people, unable to sleep because of all the things he imagines which are probably actually true.
But right now, he's just Vic, lying beneath Helena, trying to focus on the present instead of visions of a bleak apocalyptic future that could happen if just one thing occured.
And Helena's just trying to help.
She rotates her hips a little, shifting her weight, and his mouth opens slightly at that, so she does it more. She's using her legs, leaving the head of his cock inside her while slowly easing herself on and off, still keeping a steady rhythm, and if his legs weren't tied down he'd probably start thrusting against her. She can't let that happen, the whole point of this was to let Vic give up his control for a while, to surrender it to someone who he trusted not to harm him.
"Come on, baby-doll, look here. Look at me," and he finally opens his eyes all the way.
He's so very open at that moment, physically unable to give her the guarded, defensive impression that he usually does to ward everyone off. There is no trenchcoat to bury his hands in, no way to conceal his expressions as his hands are tied to the bedposts, his clothes are discarded on top of his agletless shoes and his stupid orange socks that Helena secretly likes, and his mask is lying on the table in a crumpled heap.
She's good at reading his face even beneath the mask, but observing subtle changes in inflection and a barely-detected smile can't even compare to this, when his face is flushed and he's trying not to moan too loudly and his eyes are wide. Helena knows that Vic's desperate at this point, it's showing on his face and she needs to end this before he's reduced to begging, which has very unpleasant connotations for both of them.
She can tell that Vic's close, his thighs are tensing up, so the rhythm gets a little faster but still remains regular until he tries his best to lift his hips up to meet her. Which is when it gets slightly erratic, as both of them are in a frenzied state. Helena's leg muscles are doing overtime, lifting her up and sliding her down, Vic feels the repeated motion of Helena sliding down on his cock, his member inside her from the tip to the root, and it's almost too much for both of them at that very moment.
Shaking, trembling, Vic's release comes quickly, which is when Helena gives in to all the pent-up arousal - her release follows shortly after.
Vic is lying there, panting, but she can't afford to do the same. Helena unties him quickly, checking for loss of circulation and unpleasant marks.
Satisfied that she hasn't incurred any problems, she kisses him on the forehead, then curls up next to him. He's still dazed, his eyelids fluttering, but he's aware enough to embrace her.
His arm is a warm weight on her body.
They fall asleep together.