I bear a request story.
Title: In Knee Deep
Rating: R
Pairings: Keith/Mick
Word Count: 2182
Disclaimer: I don't own the Stones; I would be rich if I did.
This is for ray191 who I had answered to make slash story to. I also like the idea of a drunk Mick and Keith.
With brains currently saturated in a nights worth of alcohol, Mick had barely enough of a thought to flag down a taxi while he nearly toppled over on the side of the road, Keith in tow. For a moment, Mick nearly stumbled into the street and instead ht a cold pole. He swore, a strung together slurred sentence of violent curses at the pole; he could have sworn that his vision had never seen it and it was just placed there to make him angry.
He was supporting Keith on his shoulders as they both stumbled and again had nearly fallen. Like a God sending a gift to help out the humans, a taxicab had pulled to the side of the curve where the two were currently blundering about. With less grace then say a few hours ago, both Mick and Keith fell into the soft seats and both laughed like crazy lunatics.
The driver turned around and wrinkled his nose in a silent gesture that spoke, ‘not another batch of drunken fools; it is too early to be dealing with them.’ They were tangled in a mass of sprawled limbs and could not untangle themselves from this seemingly impossible task. With clownish grace, Mick fumbled through his pockets and hoped to search out any money he had left over the boozing night he had done with Keith.
“C’mon now,” he muttered through the thick drunken murkiness that had settled over his mind. ‘Gotta have some money left and-- ah.” He produced just enough money to satisfy the driver.
“Go to-- to…” his mind faltered and briefly panicked if he were to forget their current residing homes. Or rather flats. He didn’t feel like calling any of the others, mostly because they would just hang up. Maybe Stu would have come out but who knows. He felt Keith rustle behind him and he turned to see him. Just as he was about to utter some words, Keith put his hand on his face to move Mick aside.
“Go to--…” The words slipped from Mick’s mind as Keith explained with a wobbly voice on where to go and the driver looked as though he were trying really hard to decipher the onslaught of words. The cab began to push forwards and the world flew by in a projection of colors and sounds that blurred into a mass of splashed voices. He was aware of Keith’s body as he felt the heat of the other man vibrate in waves. He felt every move that Keith made every warm breath of air and it made his head nearly dizzy.
The fluorescent lights of the city blew past him at a speed to which his mind could not fully predict. He felt the night’s alcohol starting to make a resurface in his belly and he felt the gagging sensation slowly close in around his throat. He blinked and willed his stomach to stop any movements. Keith spent his time hunched over the seat, his head placed on the back seat of the passengers’ seat. His greasy bangs were everywhere as his hair still stuck out at its odd angles. He was breathing and his fingers flexed.
Mick nearly closed his eyes as the lights rolled by; his head swimming with so many sensations and thoughts that he thought his head might grow. His body was buzzing; a type of feeling that tolled him he was giddy with excitement and endorphins. However, in a moment of a quick passed time, the cab stopped moving. Mick blinked as his mind foggily pieced together that they had stopped. He felt opaque and groggy as he moved to get out of the seat. E found the proper grasp of the situation to move, albeit a bit uncoordinated.
Keith’s hands were upon him as he used Mick’s body to steady himself. Mick swiveled his neck to meet Keith’s face and he laughed robustly. Keith smiled and they stumbled towards the steps and kept moving, despite the chill air of February eating at their bones. They stumbled into the hotel, the lights searing in at a painful rate into their minds as they stumbled upstairs. Keith bid Mick a goodbye as Mick left to his room. Unfortunately, Mick had drunken more then he thought and his body had automatically shut down and he collapsed onto the bed and passed out.
--
Keith sat on his plush bed, the white colored blankets seemingly holding the same crisp smell of detergent. His eyes dully noted his surroundings as a drab, boring eye sore and he looked other places. It had been almost an hour after they had arrived in the hotel and Keith’s mind hadn‘t yet to cease activity. He had calmed down from the alcohol, but it was not enough to keep a steady forward balance.
A cigarette was clenched between thin fingers as he contemplated his mind. It’d been a long time since he felt this way. He felt the surge if an amour like feeling in his gut. He’d felt it few times before and one person was currently cavorting through his mind. His other twin; Glimmer Twin as they were called. Mick was something of a fascination and he really liked it. Many times had he woken up in the night to watch the
Older man sleep. He looked as ethereal as moonlight could spill into the room, highlighting his features.
He looked like a jewel there; a precious stone (no pun, he would mentally add) and would thoughtfully reach his hand across to touch the stack of burnt sienna hair that adorned Mick’s head. Keith would marvel at how it was as though pearls had melted over Mick’s skin as it lightly reflected the proceeding moonlight. It had been a long time since Keith felt this feeling as it periodically made trips into his heart.
A feeling had erupted in his stomach and his mind began to become swayed; he looked down at his cigarette and stubbed it out into the stony ash trey that was rimmed in used buds. He did feel that feeling of need: he liked to think that he and Mick needed each other equally: Mick sang and gave notes of his voice into words and Keith played what Mick was translating and provided the melody, the soundtrack of life. Now he had a voice in his drunken mind telling him to go carry out what he wanted. He was already face to heels drunk, Mick was sloshed, and it would be highly doubtful if they could remember.
Keith’s mind was astonishingly convincing and persuading because his body made an unsteady ascent to his feet. His feet were very unsteady and he began to move once he found the right position to move in. Keith then headed out to the other Glimmers’ room. He grabbed the handle, finding it unlocked and nearly careened into the door. Shaking his head loose, he advanced on. He saw the bed, and then saw Mick: he was lying on the bed, possibly passed out and it excited Keith and increased his alcohol-fueled bravery.
Jumpy sensations were tingling in his spine and spread through his body like a heated wildfire. He licked his thin lips in an attempt to prepare himself mentally. He slowly advanced onto the bed, his fingers curling around the blankets. He stared at Mick, his hair strewn out into clumps. His fingers reached for the hem of Mick’s shirt and he started pulling at Mick’s shirt.
--
His lips pulled back in a put as he felt a sagging weight. His mind was sloshed; stirring in alcohol and it hardly helped. He felt fingers snatch at his clothes and his eyebrows knitted together. He felt the tugs of fabric and he slowly opened an eye. A blur of black hair and a blotched face moved into his view. He felt the cool air slide around his back as Keith wrenched the shirt free. Mick turned around, his arms cracking. He brought his hand up to Keith’s face and felt the light stubble that accumulated over night.
They both locked eyes: a mass of lust and drunken urgency hit each other like a wall; it had become clear about what would happen. Keith titled his head and he leaned down to warily taste Mick’s lips. Mick leaned his head upwards to help deliver to Keith. They met in hesitance, a wary caution and a slight anticipation to what could happen. They met and the initial nervousness had nearly tuckered out.
A burst of heat enveloped them as Mick shot his hands up to grapple onto Keith’s shaggy mane and pull him down for a rough, almost bruising force. Keith responded when he rolled his hips forwards, feeling a pronounced shape in Mick’s pants. Their tongues hit each other and a delirious feeling enveloped them. They fought each other in like a war but a war of the mouth. Keith tugged himself free of his shirt and peeled away his grungy jeans as Mick slipped from skin-tight pants. The heat they felt was generated from the friction of their bodies and Keith gazed at Mick.
His hands held himself over Mick, looking at Mick as though he were one of his guitars. Those looks shot feelings of desire and lust to his loins as he and Keith once again met through their mouths. Keith broke away to move down the spindly neck and bite down on the collarbones. Mick nearly moaned out, no shame for what Keith was doing.
Hands were at his pelvis and they rustled about, fiddling with the bony shape. Mick felt like putty in Keith’s hands as he wriggled. He closed his eyes, feeling Keith near him. In his closed mind, he could see Keith: everything about it felt beautiful and he felt whole. Everything was coming together in a haze of liquor and passion. Two fingers prodded at him and without warning, abruptly pushed past his entrance, burying inside him.
Mick gasped slightly, feeling the sudden intrusion and he slightly arched his back. The bony fingers only added to the feverish lust he felt and this was helping it grow. Soon they were removed and replaced with something wider, prodding. When he felt Keith push past into him, he quickly sought out Keith’s hair, limbs, anything to hold onto, feeling like Keith was his anchor. He wanted to feel the other close; to inhale that sweet smell and feel his body heat like a warm breeze. Keith began to push his hips forward, a rhythm to be established. He felt himself sink and edge into a warm bubbling water.
His body was glowing with sensations as Keith’s hands gripped the jaunting hipbones as a leverage as he steadily pushed in and out of Mick. Keith grunted out a stream of sounds, cut off and broken as he to become under the influence of his movements. A tight heat coiled in his stomach as Mick embraced the other boy, placing burnt tracks on Keith’s skin through fingernails. Keith was suddenly at his mouth again to receive those moans. The bed began to squeak and roll on the floor, coming closer in contact with the wall, threatening to dent the perfectly crafted plaster.
Keith grunted and Mick needed more-- just something from Keith to have that height of sensations that would flood his body faster then light could a room.
“Keith-- I-- you, please just--” As if reading the words before they could be read from lips, Keith’s hand shot down between tem, grasping the desire that Mick so needed. He moved steadily, their movements fast. They moved together, dancing in this bed that would become soaked in sweat. Then, Mick felt the heat coiling in his chest and burst through his body at light speed, taking him under the waves of ecstasy. Keith followed him down and both became one. One single person before separated.
Only haggard breaths remained as the vital sound to tell them they were still alive. Mick’s eyes shuttered open to see Keith with his eyes pressed shut and his head tipped back. Keith let his eyes crack open to gaze at Mick; his eyes were a light color. Mick raised a hand and slid it through Keith sweat shinned hair. Only their eyes connected and it was al they needed. With an effort, Keith pulled off Mick and collapsed beside him, a heap of tired muscles and gasps of air. Keith gazed tiredly at Mick as the other did the same.
“I think,” Mick began, obviously winded, “that I might have a rush on you.”
Keith’s eyebrows moved upwards. “Really? Just now?”
Mick laughed. “Yeah.” Keith could not hold the grin off his face. He moved closer to Mick, his fingers blindly grasping as the covers and pulled them up, covering their sweat soaked bodies. Mick leaned his head on Keith’s shoulder and Keith laid his on Mick’s head. They stayed like that until the morning, when both could only see each other.
That was how it should be.
Rating: R
Pairings: Keith/Mick
Word Count: 2182
Disclaimer: I don't own the Stones; I would be rich if I did.
This is for ray191 who I had answered to make slash story to. I also like the idea of a drunk Mick and Keith.
With brains currently saturated in a nights worth of alcohol, Mick had barely enough of a thought to flag down a taxi while he nearly toppled over on the side of the road, Keith in tow. For a moment, Mick nearly stumbled into the street and instead ht a cold pole. He swore, a strung together slurred sentence of violent curses at the pole; he could have sworn that his vision had never seen it and it was just placed there to make him angry.
He was supporting Keith on his shoulders as they both stumbled and again had nearly fallen. Like a God sending a gift to help out the humans, a taxicab had pulled to the side of the curve where the two were currently blundering about. With less grace then say a few hours ago, both Mick and Keith fell into the soft seats and both laughed like crazy lunatics.
The driver turned around and wrinkled his nose in a silent gesture that spoke, ‘not another batch of drunken fools; it is too early to be dealing with them.’ They were tangled in a mass of sprawled limbs and could not untangle themselves from this seemingly impossible task. With clownish grace, Mick fumbled through his pockets and hoped to search out any money he had left over the boozing night he had done with Keith.
“C’mon now,” he muttered through the thick drunken murkiness that had settled over his mind. ‘Gotta have some money left and-- ah.” He produced just enough money to satisfy the driver.
“Go to-- to…” his mind faltered and briefly panicked if he were to forget their current residing homes. Or rather flats. He didn’t feel like calling any of the others, mostly because they would just hang up. Maybe Stu would have come out but who knows. He felt Keith rustle behind him and he turned to see him. Just as he was about to utter some words, Keith put his hand on his face to move Mick aside.
“Go to--…” The words slipped from Mick’s mind as Keith explained with a wobbly voice on where to go and the driver looked as though he were trying really hard to decipher the onslaught of words. The cab began to push forwards and the world flew by in a projection of colors and sounds that blurred into a mass of splashed voices. He was aware of Keith’s body as he felt the heat of the other man vibrate in waves. He felt every move that Keith made every warm breath of air and it made his head nearly dizzy.
The fluorescent lights of the city blew past him at a speed to which his mind could not fully predict. He felt the night’s alcohol starting to make a resurface in his belly and he felt the gagging sensation slowly close in around his throat. He blinked and willed his stomach to stop any movements. Keith spent his time hunched over the seat, his head placed on the back seat of the passengers’ seat. His greasy bangs were everywhere as his hair still stuck out at its odd angles. He was breathing and his fingers flexed.
Mick nearly closed his eyes as the lights rolled by; his head swimming with so many sensations and thoughts that he thought his head might grow. His body was buzzing; a type of feeling that tolled him he was giddy with excitement and endorphins. However, in a moment of a quick passed time, the cab stopped moving. Mick blinked as his mind foggily pieced together that they had stopped. He felt opaque and groggy as he moved to get out of the seat. E found the proper grasp of the situation to move, albeit a bit uncoordinated.
Keith’s hands were upon him as he used Mick’s body to steady himself. Mick swiveled his neck to meet Keith’s face and he laughed robustly. Keith smiled and they stumbled towards the steps and kept moving, despite the chill air of February eating at their bones. They stumbled into the hotel, the lights searing in at a painful rate into their minds as they stumbled upstairs. Keith bid Mick a goodbye as Mick left to his room. Unfortunately, Mick had drunken more then he thought and his body had automatically shut down and he collapsed onto the bed and passed out.
--
Keith sat on his plush bed, the white colored blankets seemingly holding the same crisp smell of detergent. His eyes dully noted his surroundings as a drab, boring eye sore and he looked other places. It had been almost an hour after they had arrived in the hotel and Keith’s mind hadn‘t yet to cease activity. He had calmed down from the alcohol, but it was not enough to keep a steady forward balance.
A cigarette was clenched between thin fingers as he contemplated his mind. It’d been a long time since he felt this way. He felt the surge if an amour like feeling in his gut. He’d felt it few times before and one person was currently cavorting through his mind. His other twin; Glimmer Twin as they were called. Mick was something of a fascination and he really liked it. Many times had he woken up in the night to watch the
Older man sleep. He looked as ethereal as moonlight could spill into the room, highlighting his features.
He looked like a jewel there; a precious stone (no pun, he would mentally add) and would thoughtfully reach his hand across to touch the stack of burnt sienna hair that adorned Mick’s head. Keith would marvel at how it was as though pearls had melted over Mick’s skin as it lightly reflected the proceeding moonlight. It had been a long time since Keith felt this feeling as it periodically made trips into his heart.
A feeling had erupted in his stomach and his mind began to become swayed; he looked down at his cigarette and stubbed it out into the stony ash trey that was rimmed in used buds. He did feel that feeling of need: he liked to think that he and Mick needed each other equally: Mick sang and gave notes of his voice into words and Keith played what Mick was translating and provided the melody, the soundtrack of life. Now he had a voice in his drunken mind telling him to go carry out what he wanted. He was already face to heels drunk, Mick was sloshed, and it would be highly doubtful if they could remember.
Keith’s mind was astonishingly convincing and persuading because his body made an unsteady ascent to his feet. His feet were very unsteady and he began to move once he found the right position to move in. Keith then headed out to the other Glimmers’ room. He grabbed the handle, finding it unlocked and nearly careened into the door. Shaking his head loose, he advanced on. He saw the bed, and then saw Mick: he was lying on the bed, possibly passed out and it excited Keith and increased his alcohol-fueled bravery.
Jumpy sensations were tingling in his spine and spread through his body like a heated wildfire. He licked his thin lips in an attempt to prepare himself mentally. He slowly advanced onto the bed, his fingers curling around the blankets. He stared at Mick, his hair strewn out into clumps. His fingers reached for the hem of Mick’s shirt and he started pulling at Mick’s shirt.
--
His lips pulled back in a put as he felt a sagging weight. His mind was sloshed; stirring in alcohol and it hardly helped. He felt fingers snatch at his clothes and his eyebrows knitted together. He felt the tugs of fabric and he slowly opened an eye. A blur of black hair and a blotched face moved into his view. He felt the cool air slide around his back as Keith wrenched the shirt free. Mick turned around, his arms cracking. He brought his hand up to Keith’s face and felt the light stubble that accumulated over night.
They both locked eyes: a mass of lust and drunken urgency hit each other like a wall; it had become clear about what would happen. Keith titled his head and he leaned down to warily taste Mick’s lips. Mick leaned his head upwards to help deliver to Keith. They met in hesitance, a wary caution and a slight anticipation to what could happen. They met and the initial nervousness had nearly tuckered out.
A burst of heat enveloped them as Mick shot his hands up to grapple onto Keith’s shaggy mane and pull him down for a rough, almost bruising force. Keith responded when he rolled his hips forwards, feeling a pronounced shape in Mick’s pants. Their tongues hit each other and a delirious feeling enveloped them. They fought each other in like a war but a war of the mouth. Keith tugged himself free of his shirt and peeled away his grungy jeans as Mick slipped from skin-tight pants. The heat they felt was generated from the friction of their bodies and Keith gazed at Mick.
His hands held himself over Mick, looking at Mick as though he were one of his guitars. Those looks shot feelings of desire and lust to his loins as he and Keith once again met through their mouths. Keith broke away to move down the spindly neck and bite down on the collarbones. Mick nearly moaned out, no shame for what Keith was doing.
Hands were at his pelvis and they rustled about, fiddling with the bony shape. Mick felt like putty in Keith’s hands as he wriggled. He closed his eyes, feeling Keith near him. In his closed mind, he could see Keith: everything about it felt beautiful and he felt whole. Everything was coming together in a haze of liquor and passion. Two fingers prodded at him and without warning, abruptly pushed past his entrance, burying inside him.
Mick gasped slightly, feeling the sudden intrusion and he slightly arched his back. The bony fingers only added to the feverish lust he felt and this was helping it grow. Soon they were removed and replaced with something wider, prodding. When he felt Keith push past into him, he quickly sought out Keith’s hair, limbs, anything to hold onto, feeling like Keith was his anchor. He wanted to feel the other close; to inhale that sweet smell and feel his body heat like a warm breeze. Keith began to push his hips forward, a rhythm to be established. He felt himself sink and edge into a warm bubbling water.
His body was glowing with sensations as Keith’s hands gripped the jaunting hipbones as a leverage as he steadily pushed in and out of Mick. Keith grunted out a stream of sounds, cut off and broken as he to become under the influence of his movements. A tight heat coiled in his stomach as Mick embraced the other boy, placing burnt tracks on Keith’s skin through fingernails. Keith was suddenly at his mouth again to receive those moans. The bed began to squeak and roll on the floor, coming closer in contact with the wall, threatening to dent the perfectly crafted plaster.
Keith grunted and Mick needed more-- just something from Keith to have that height of sensations that would flood his body faster then light could a room.
“Keith-- I-- you, please just--” As if reading the words before they could be read from lips, Keith’s hand shot down between tem, grasping the desire that Mick so needed. He moved steadily, their movements fast. They moved together, dancing in this bed that would become soaked in sweat. Then, Mick felt the heat coiling in his chest and burst through his body at light speed, taking him under the waves of ecstasy. Keith followed him down and both became one. One single person before separated.
Only haggard breaths remained as the vital sound to tell them they were still alive. Mick’s eyes shuttered open to see Keith with his eyes pressed shut and his head tipped back. Keith let his eyes crack open to gaze at Mick; his eyes were a light color. Mick raised a hand and slid it through Keith sweat shinned hair. Only their eyes connected and it was al they needed. With an effort, Keith pulled off Mick and collapsed beside him, a heap of tired muscles and gasps of air. Keith gazed tiredly at Mick as the other did the same.
“I think,” Mick began, obviously winded, “that I might have a rush on you.”
Keith’s eyebrows moved upwards. “Really? Just now?”
Mick laughed. “Yeah.” Keith could not hold the grin off his face. He moved closer to Mick, his fingers blindly grasping as the covers and pulled them up, covering their sweat soaked bodies. Mick leaned his head on Keith’s shoulder and Keith laid his on Mick’s head. They stayed like that until the morning, when both could only see each other.
That was how it should be.