Title: Kaleidoscope Eyes

Author: Crimsonsenya

Fandom: National Treasure/Chronicles of Riddick Crossover

Pairing: Ian/Vaako

Rating: R/NC17

Warnings: m/m sex

Disclaimer: Not mine. The characters belong to whatever persons/companies behind the films.

AN: Mwhaa, this could be the only Ian/Vaako fic ever.

Dedicated to my Jazzyjean, who made me love slashed Karl and who deserves to have a fic all for herself.

***********************************

How could have Ian known that the solving of the last riddle in the nearly endless hunt for the Templar treasure would open a dimensional portal that melted all the existing worlds into a void of fractured reality, stranding Ian alone somewhere on the outskirts of one of the branches in the now tree-shaped ever spiralling universe?

Or not exactly alone. He had found an armour-clad man standing at the waterline on a white gravelled beach with his eyes fixed on the horizon that collapsed and warped into a silver and purple wormhole. The rest of the sky and the undulating water shone in more red and violet hues than in shades of blue, but that was on the daytime, because they were to find out that the sky would regularly become ink black with not even stars sparkling in its inconsolable dusky space.

The stranger had attacked Ian the instant he’d noticed his presence. Ian had fought back with the ferocity and persistence of his caveman ancestors who had struggled for their lives and won the game called the survival of the fittest on the planet earth, but the dark man had overpowered him nonetheless, pinning Ian on his back on the ground, fingers around his neck ready to crush his throat. As his last resort, Ian had latched his mouth against the stranger in a rough bruising kiss. The grip around Ian’s neck had loosened in surprise, when he had bitten down on the ridiculously pink lower lip in an otherwise death-like pale face.

They would stay alive for a long time. There was a military barrack nearby supplied with provisions, even if it looked to Ian that it dated back to the World War II. Anyhow, the buildings and wares seemed more familiar to him than to Vaako and to whatever world he came from. Vaako didn’t try to kill him anymore, but they fought every day for another reason –for dominance to be precise. The one to stay on foot was the one to top. It took a while for Ian to come through as the last man standing. Not that he minded, especially as Vaako set about mauling Ian with the same devotion and thoroughness that he had probably assumed practicing his combat skills.

Vaako pushed into the hilt. The curve of his cock scraped Ian’s sweet spot, while his erect nipples brushed against Ian’s back, sending him to teeter on the brink of the precipice behind of which all the starts had gone hiding. When Ian had learnt new dirty tricks to force Vaako to fall, he paid back pleasure with equal verve, thrusting in at the same rhythm with which he stroked Vaako’s shaft. Ian leaned on, bringing his free hand to the back of Vaako’s neck and pulling him closer by the surprisingly soft braids to get a taste of the ash and incense flavoured mouth. For a fleeting moment, Ian wondered where Vaako had come from and why the man always made him think about orange incense, long processions of cloaked figures and mysterious chanting, but then Vaako usually came, shuddering and clenching around Ian, who lost the will to care about other worlds or time and space continuums as his vision became splintered glass that glimmered in hazel and olive green, the colours of Vaako’s eyes.