Memorial Day Madness!
hd_obsession!!!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY.
You are honestly one of the sweetest, most thoughtful people that I know and I hope that your day has been full of sunshine (and not clouds!) and was as delightfully glorious as you yourself are. Thank you for being such a wonderful soul ♥
This is - well, it's half for you and half completely indulgent for me. I think you'll enjoy it, though. Cliche-fic ftw!
hot on your heels.
{Kris/Adam | NC-17 | 2600 words}
"Please? C'mon, Kris, come on come on come on."
Kris huffs, shaking his head fondly. "Dude, the nail polish is one thing, but - "
It's pretty easy for Kris to read Adam now, so when he pouts, his lips all slick and pink, Kris just checks his eyes and sees the amusement. "What? Will it be a smear on your masculinity?"
"I don't wanna lose an eye!"
This time, Adam's scoff is real. "First of all, you wear contacts, so that's a line of shit. Plus, I'm, like, a pro." He holds the pencil up, grinning wide.
Kris supposes that's a little true. He takes in the thick lines of black rimming Adam's eyes, all crystal-blue and sparkling with mischief. It doesn't look bad. In fact, it looks incredibly sexy, smoldering gaze that Kris quickly tears his eyes from. It's nothing, really, that pull in his gut, no, not at all. Adam doesn't seem to notice.
"It's just a little eyeliner. Harmless, tiny little thing." Adam pitches his voice into a fake accent, dancing the pencil between his fingers to lend it life. "Pwease, Kris, let me make your eyes sparkle and shine!"
It's ridiculous and incredibly dorky. Kris can't help but laugh.
"Fine," he says, throwing his hands up in surrender. "But only because I know you'll follow me around all day if I don't."
"Yes," Adam says, victorious. He's absolutely beaming. And the guy seriously is relentless, one of the many things Kris admires about him, so Kris doesn't feel too bad for giving in so easily. The trait's gotten Adam this far in his career - Kris is learning.
Adam advances on him instantly, two quick steps into Kris's space. He holds his ground, but goes easily when Adam guides him backwards towards the room's dresser. "Lean on that," he says. "It'll be easier if you're steady."
He's leaning in when the thought strikes Kris, so he pulls back and splays one palm over Adam's chest; looks him straight in the eye. Kris tries to glare, but he's pretty sure it probably comes across as more of a squint-grin combo. "And because I know you'll ask? No, I am not leaving the suite in it."
The way Adam laughs, all lit-up and genuine, makes Kris's heart trip over itself. That pure joy is infectious, buzzing under his skin and it strikes Kris again that he's so lucky that this is who he gets to share this crazy roller coaster ride with. Having the wide, open smile that tugs at his own face mirrored back at him is a fricken gift, because he knows that with anyone else he'd feel nervous and unsure. But Adam - having his friendship, all the support - it still blows Kris away.
"Noted," Adam says. He presses back into Kris's space, an easy smirk dimpling his cheek. "Now hold still."
Kris tips his head up, swallowing hard against the fingertips Adam presses beneath his chin, angling. "Look way, way up," Adam says, breath feathering hot against Kris's face. A simple order, but the words feel loaded, somehow.
The first swipe of the pencil at the base of his lower lashes makes Kris jerk. It's cold and kind of tickles. "Sorry, sorry," Kris apologizes, quickly. Adam just waves his hand and steps closer, his leg brushing the inside of Kris's thigh. Kris takes a deep breath and gratefully relaxes into the touch, calming.
He rolls his eyes back up, staring at the ceiling, trying not to anticipate the next brush of liner; trying not to think of how easy it is to have Adam plastered against him, how it would feel even better with less clothing and more skin.
And that's just it, those thoughts - Kris has no idea how he's slid from enjoying Adam's company to wanting more, to wanting something he's never had. It scares him a little, how willing he is to just go with it, how a friendly quirk of lips or a gentle squeeze to his shoulder from Adam has become complete and utter temptation. How easily the question of sexuality just becomes fluid around Adam.
There's a slight tug on the skin below his eyes, Adam's thumb pulling it taught while he drags the pencil along Kris's lash line. Adam's fingers curl around the back of Kris's head and he leans into it, not an ounce of tension in his neck or shoulders. Adam is staring at him, his lower lip caught between his teeth. The splattering of freckles across Adam's nose and cheeks draws Kris's eye, blurring oh-so-close. He feels dizzy.
"Close your eyes," Adam whispers, "Not done yet."
It's almost instinct to respond so easily. Kris's eyes slip shut, his heart racing. Every drag of Adam's fingertips over his face feels like a shock, sliding through his system, nagging tingle at the base of his spine. Adam's hips are pressed against his own, the heat of that touch drawing all of Kris's attention. When the liner glides across his lids it's almost a blessed relief, cool kiss against thin skin. Color flicker along with the touch, sparking out the black darkness behind his lids.
Adam drags his hand up, short nails scratching at Kris's scalp, and he has to bite back a groan. It feels so good, Adam - this close, this near - it's completely intoxicating.
When the touch slides down to his shoulder, Adam lightly squeezing his arm, Kris lets his eyes flutter open. The way Adam is staring at him, dark and intense, leaves Kris struggling to find his voice. He hates the way it cracks, his throat tight and dry.
"So how ridiculous do I look," he tries, grinning shakily. It's one Adam doesn't throw back, his fingers flexing against Kris's arm, his lip still bitten puffy and red between his teeth.
"God, you have no idea, do you," Adam finally breathes out. "I mean, you know you're cute, but. You're gorgeous. You have to know that."
Kris can absolutely feel the blush creeping up his neck. He clenches his fingers against his own thighs, the physical desire to cover his face - or worse, to grab at Adam's shoulders, pull him down, closer, in, god, does Kris want - too much, too strong.
Adam makes a strangled sound and Kris looks up, worried. His pupils are blown wide, lips parted on a rough breath, and the want-need-desire almost shorts Kris's brain out.
"I'm not - " Kris starts, ready to deflect the compliment. Adam cuts him off at the pass, long fingers curling back around Kris's neck. The pad of his thumb strokes over the thin skin below Kris's eye once more, smearing make-up, blurring the lines. So, so blurred.
"No," Adam murmurs. Kris has never heard him so soft-spoken, almost reverent. He's so close that the words fall from his lips right to Kris's. "You really, really are."
Adam dips down completely, their mouths brushing together, and just like that, all of Kris's internal struggling drops away. He grabs at Adam's shirt, tangling his fingers into the fabric and moaning right into the kiss, all invitation and yes, yes, I want, slickly pressing his tongue past Adam's lips.
It's hot and fierce, leaning up and crushing their mouths together, not at all restrained or chaste. Kris can't get himself close enough, just wants to drown in Adam now that he finally can, and he nips at Adam's lip when he starts to pull away, whining low in his throat.
"God, the way you flush, so pretty," Adam says, and leans back in, lips sliding over Kris's jaw. "Wanna see you all spread out for me, want - "
"Yes," Kris breathes. His mind is spinning and he ruts against Adam's thigh, so solid and strong between his own. "I want -"
Adam nibbles against Kris's throat, grinding the palm of his hand against Kris's cock in tandem. He can't help but arch into the sensation, overwhelmed and sweaty-hot. "Tell me, baby," Adam mumbles, "Wanna hear you say it."
It's too much, god, embarrassing, and Kris scrambles his hands over Adam's back, trying desperately to show him. He can't say it, it's too hard. "Please," he whines, "Just - "
"Tell me," Adam says, smooth and serious. He pulls away, his eyes slanted dark and hungry, pining Kris's hips to the dresser when he tries to follow.
"I want," Kris grits out, broken and raw. "I want your mouth."
Adam grins, Cheshire-quick and sly, and catches Kris's lower lip between his; fucks his tongue in rough and fast, stealing every thought, every bit of breath form Kris's lungs.
"Here?" Adam asks, tilting their foreheads together. "That all?"
Kris could cry, really, he could. Of course Adam would tease, breaking him down until all he can do is beg. He grabs at Adam's wrist, determined, and presses it to his dick.
"Here," Kris whispers. He screws his eyes shut and just blurts it out. "Please, Adam. I want - I want you to suck me."
"Oh, fuck yes," Adam says, kissing Kris wet and dirty before folding himself down onto his knees. Kris clutches at the counter behind him to keep from swaying forward, the lack of Adam's heat hitting him instantly.
Except it's not gone, not completely. Adam levels his gaze up at Kris, the slash of his eyes bright between the shock of dark hair that falls in front of them. Kris lets himself slide one hand into the prickly mess of it, breathing hard as Adam's fingers make short work of Kris's buckle, jeans. He pants when the denim slides over his hips and Adam leans in, mouthing along his cock through his boxers, sucking at an already damp spot in the cotton.
"You're fucking delicious," Adam says. He trails his fingers over the elastic of Kris's boxers; follows with the tip of his tongue. Kris tightens his hold on Adam's hair and hangs on for dear life.
"Please," he begs. "Adam."
His knees want to give out, maybe, because holding himself up when Adam finally tugs Kris's boxers down and fists his dick seems absolutely impossible. Adam slides his lips up the shaft and Kris has to fight not to hunch over completely, groaning when the head of his cock slides over Adam's lower lip, plush heat, so, so wet.
"Oh," he groans, and thrusts into Adam's mouth, slow, shallow slide, Adam pulling Kris closer by his hips, encouraging. His tongue swirls lazily around Kris's dick and god, is it hot, the way Adam hollows his cheeks and just sucks, sweet, sweet pressure. He's staring up at Kris, looking so damn cheerful about the fact that Kris is feeding him his cock that Kris has to grab the base and squeeze. "Shit."
"Wanted you, Jesus, wanted," Kris can faintly hear the clatter of Adam fumbling his own belt open through the ringing in his ears; watches raptly as Adam unzips and pulls out his cock. He's so hard, the fat head peeking between his fingers on every stroke and oh, Kris never thought he'd want, but his mouth waters, his hips straining back towards the heat of Adam's lips.
Adam's fucking devastating, working his mouth like nothing Kris has ever seen, ever felt. He pops off of Kris's cock, wrecking him when he slides his tongue over Kris's balls, enveloping one, then the other, in blessed, incredible heat. It takes Kris more than a minute to realize the absolute keening echoing in his head is him, hips stuttering as Adam swallows him down once more.
"Fucking - " Kris lets his fingers untangle, his grip loose on the back of Adam's head. Long, able fingers slide over the inside of Kris's thigh, slick and hot, and when Adam traces one in a slow circle over Kris's hole, he can't hold back his cries anymore. "Want you - want you to fuck me. Fuck."
"Holy Christ," Adam grunts, and comes all over his fist. Kris wants to cry, he's so close, so hot. Adam looks like a fucking dream between his legs, mouth bruised dark, eyes hooded, all shaken and blissed out and god, how Kris loves it. Loves him.
His mouth falls open, thinking that, fucking into his own fist with Adam staring lazily up at him. Kris cries out, the press of Adam's fingers back at his hole, one finger sliding hot and in, messy-wet-slick with come, oh God. He shakes down to his very core, coming in spurts, Adam's breath hot against the tip of Kris's cock, face upturned.
The world seems to tilt on it's axis, Kris's heart pounding in his chest, his vision all whited out in pleasure. He's faintly aware that he's running his hands over Adam's cheeks, smudging his come - his come - into the other man's cheeks, over his lips. Adam sucks Kris's thumb into his mouth, fucking smirking, and Kris gives up on the whole standing thing, just drops down like so much dead weight and collapses against Adam's chest, burying his face into the sweat-soaked shirt. Adam even smells amazing, Jesus.
Kris clings for awhile, lulled by the rhythmic pulse of Adam's heart under his ear, racing and thrumbing just as fast as his own. Adam's fingers drag up and down along Kris's back and when he can finally breathe again, finally think, Kris sits back onto his heels; watches Adam's mouth as he pants.
"So," Kris says. His throat feels raw, voice ragged. He gives into the ridiculously intense desire to just fucking beam at Adam. "The eyeliner doesn't look dumb?"
Adam breaks into a huge smile, eyes shining. "I think you can take that as a no, yeah." He shoves at Kris, half-heartedly, before pecking him on the lips. Kris considers the way Adam tastes and licks his own lips, testing. Adam makes that choking sound again, and shoves Kris harder. "Just go clean up and look."
It takes a moment for Kris to find his footing, but he eventually manages to draw himself back up, loosely bunching his underwear and jeans against his hip. He staggers to the bathroom, still dazed, and pretty much crashes into the sink counter.
Adam may have a point, he decides. Kris studies his reflection, the make-up smeared dark around his eyes, his lips bright and wet, hair a completely disheveled mess. He looks completely fucked out, sex-mussed and bleary-eyed, but it's not bad. Different, maybe, but Kris thinks he's pretty much gonna grow to love it.
He starts when Adam shuffles in behind him, arms bracketing around, his breath damp on the back of Kris's neck. Adam's giving him that warm, open grin and it only serves to make Kris's chest ache with the sheer size of his emotions. This is so good, so easy.
"I don't care if I win," he says, even though he really doesn't need to. Kris knows Adam doesn't really care either and this probably isn't really the time, but he feels compelled. It's been the two of them from the start, just pushing to do what they love; pushing one another.
Adam nibbles at Kris's jaw, his hands falling onto Kris's hips and squeezing tight. Kris shudders against the press of Adam against his back, the bruising press of his fingertips, moaning when Adam licks a hot path along his neck. His nose slides behind Kris's ear, his breath a whisper-kiss. "But, see," he says. "I kinda think we already won."
Kris doesn't really have an argument against that, so he twists around and meets Adam halfway to seal it with a kiss.