Of an Inflatable Couch & Having Too Much to Drink
Kevin’s not really sure whose idea it is.
Okay, yes, he’s completely sure because there’s no way in hell it’s his idea. He doesn’t know why he’s going along with it now either because they could both get in much more trouble than he can even fathom if they get caught.
But that possibility doesn’t stop him from sneaking out onto the field with David once the sky is dark and most of their friends are happily hanging out in the giant ballroom of their swanky hotel. He figures that this might be more interesting than yet another chaste party with kids he has almost nothing in common with. Technically, David should be one of those kids, but there’s something about him that cuts a different way, makes him seem bored with it all, and that gives Kevin something interesting to waste his time with until this godforsaken week is over.
And okay, maybe there is a little bit of alcohol involved. He’s not sure where David got the whiskey, but that doesn’t stop him from precariously taking sips of it, and while neither of them is really drunk, there is a certain looseness in Kevin’s limbs that he likes and appreciates, and which makes it much easier for him to laugh at David’s jokes, which as a rule aren’t all that funny.
And David’s not really his type, in any sense of the word, even as someone to just hang out with. Kevin tends to find the bad-ass charade tiring, and he could definitely do without the faux-hawk, but he does appreciate the surge of biceps and the broad definition of muscles moving beneath his tank top, and he figures that at the very least, he could do with looking at him for long periods of time, which is what he’s mostly been doing tonight because listening to him talk is somewhat painful.
But he hears him somehow when he suggests they leave behind the hotel room and head out under the stars. He vaguely thinks it’s rather irresponsible for the Disney employees to just leave the tents set up on the field, but they must be at least relatively difficult to access, which he figures is just a good thing for them, especially when they drag the red inflatable couch out of the Inferno tent to sit on because Kevin figures that Nick will be the brother that’s most pissed off about something stupid like that.
Of course, that’s the last thing on his mind right now because, somewhere between the first time he laughed at one of David’s bawdry jokes and the way they flopped down beside each other on the couch, the actor started looking just good, and Kevin’s a fan of the way his face is a little flushed with the alcohol, and it leads him to the amusing conclusion that he isn’t as worldly as he likes to make himself out to be. Then again, Kevin could be drunker than he thinks he is.
And the whole thing is David’s fault when it happens, because he lurches forward out of the position he’s been lazily lounging in and tugs his way out of his tank top, and Kevin really just looks at him because he’s much more gorgeous than he would have let himself consider a few moments ago. The tattoos on his arms, the one spreading across the back of his shoulder, just give him a kind of character more than the intimidation factor Kevin figures he was going for when he got them.
It continues to be David’s fault when he reaches for Kevin’s hand and just presses it against his chest, and Kevin lets his palm slide against nipples, which makes David bite his lip in a way that makes him look naughtier than any bad little schoolgirl, and then they’re both leaning in and Kevin’s hand is cupping his face and he presses their mouths together, and David holds onto his wrist and presses back into him, and then it’s all tongues and teeth, and at one point, Kevin’s sure David’s bitten him.
It’s really okay though because David’s half-naked and working at the buttons of Kevin’s shirt to get him there too, and sooner than later, their clothes are in a pile on the grass, and David’s legs are open, and Kevin is settled in the cradle of his thighs as they kiss, his fingers curled around his hip, and he’s not completely sure what’s happening, but he’s okay with it because David’s cock rubbing against his feels good in a way he can’t really explain to himself.
They naturally didn’t plan this, so there’s little available in the way of lube, and David urgently whines out a suggestion that saliva is as good as they’re going to get. Kevin ends up on his knees in the grass, and it’s kind of itchy, and he remembers that he’s kind of allergic to it, but that’s okay, especially since he forgets all about it once his tongue is pressing inside of David, and David’s fingers are knotted in his hair and he’s arching up and grinding down against him, and Kevin’s pretty proud of himself, considering he has no idea what he’s doing.
At some point, David presses him to hurry up already, so Kevin spits in his hand, which is gross, but if he thinks about it where the slick fingers are going probably isn’t much more sanitary, so he stops thinking about it and just pushes them inside him, and David’s hands slide back to hold onto the arm of the couch, and Kevin can’t help but watch the way his biceps flex as he groans and pushes himself against Kevin’s hand. He figures he’s doing something right when David arches and gasps and comes in spurts across his stomach.
Kevin pushes himself up to mouth at his stomach, tonguing the come off with little moans of contentment until David is pressing on his head, urging him to do more productive things with his mouth, and the hot heavy weight of his cock against his tongue is so good, so strange, and Kevin lets David guide his head in bobbing until it’s pressing into his cheek because David’s hard again, and he pulls off to move up and push their mouths together.
And then big hands are on Kevin’s cock, and David’s legs are spread obscenely wide, which Kevin imagines is a good description for this whole encounter, and the actor guides him in, murmuring quietly at the pressure. Kevin can only think about how perfectly bizarre this whole situation is, and if someone told him yesterday that he would be fucking his way into David Henrie in twenty-four hours, he… Well, he probably wouldn’t find it this crazy.
David’s hands are moving restlessly against his shoulders, and Kevin thinks for the first time that maybe he’s young, and maybe he’s pretending to be more experienced than he is, except the way his legs hook around his waist, his thighs pressing to his hips, and the way he gyrates against him like a pro makes him retract the opinion a bit.
They rut together in a way that feels like they’ve done so a thousand times before, and at some point, Kevin realizes a condom may have been a good idea, but fuck if it’s not too late for it now, and besides, David arches and moans with each sharp thrust, his fingers curling against his shoulders, so consequences be damned.
He comes suddenly, when David drags blunt nails down his chest and screams out a rasping Fuck! as he comes again, and it’s hot and tight and unbelievable and Kevin’s groan is low and loud as he spills into him. They lay there tangled up for a few moments, David’s arm slung around Kevin’s neck as they kiss slowly before he pulls out. He pauses for a moment standing above him, breathless at the sight of his own come painting the insides David’s thighs sticky white, and he wants to offer to help him clean up, but David is positively filthy, his fingers sliding through it and coming to his lips to lick it away, and Kevin stops watching him so he won’t be drawn in again.
When they’re dressed, David walks beside him, an uncomfortable expression on his face, and Kevin feels guilty but doesn’t say anything because he knows him well enough to know there’s some pride at stake. When David slides the key card into his door, Kevin steps in behind him for a moment, just to press their mouths together one more time, one hand cupping his cheek, the other settled against his hip. When he pulls away, David grins at him, petting his chest lightly, and he jokes that he hopes there’s come on the couch, and you laugh because that would really piss Nick off.
Okay, yes, he’s completely sure because there’s no way in hell it’s his idea. He doesn’t know why he’s going along with it now either because they could both get in much more trouble than he can even fathom if they get caught.
But that possibility doesn’t stop him from sneaking out onto the field with David once the sky is dark and most of their friends are happily hanging out in the giant ballroom of their swanky hotel. He figures that this might be more interesting than yet another chaste party with kids he has almost nothing in common with. Technically, David should be one of those kids, but there’s something about him that cuts a different way, makes him seem bored with it all, and that gives Kevin something interesting to waste his time with until this godforsaken week is over.
And okay, maybe there is a little bit of alcohol involved. He’s not sure where David got the whiskey, but that doesn’t stop him from precariously taking sips of it, and while neither of them is really drunk, there is a certain looseness in Kevin’s limbs that he likes and appreciates, and which makes it much easier for him to laugh at David’s jokes, which as a rule aren’t all that funny.
And David’s not really his type, in any sense of the word, even as someone to just hang out with. Kevin tends to find the bad-ass charade tiring, and he could definitely do without the faux-hawk, but he does appreciate the surge of biceps and the broad definition of muscles moving beneath his tank top, and he figures that at the very least, he could do with looking at him for long periods of time, which is what he’s mostly been doing tonight because listening to him talk is somewhat painful.
But he hears him somehow when he suggests they leave behind the hotel room and head out under the stars. He vaguely thinks it’s rather irresponsible for the Disney employees to just leave the tents set up on the field, but they must be at least relatively difficult to access, which he figures is just a good thing for them, especially when they drag the red inflatable couch out of the Inferno tent to sit on because Kevin figures that Nick will be the brother that’s most pissed off about something stupid like that.
Of course, that’s the last thing on his mind right now because, somewhere between the first time he laughed at one of David’s bawdry jokes and the way they flopped down beside each other on the couch, the actor started looking just good, and Kevin’s a fan of the way his face is a little flushed with the alcohol, and it leads him to the amusing conclusion that he isn’t as worldly as he likes to make himself out to be. Then again, Kevin could be drunker than he thinks he is.
And the whole thing is David’s fault when it happens, because he lurches forward out of the position he’s been lazily lounging in and tugs his way out of his tank top, and Kevin really just looks at him because he’s much more gorgeous than he would have let himself consider a few moments ago. The tattoos on his arms, the one spreading across the back of his shoulder, just give him a kind of character more than the intimidation factor Kevin figures he was going for when he got them.
It continues to be David’s fault when he reaches for Kevin’s hand and just presses it against his chest, and Kevin lets his palm slide against nipples, which makes David bite his lip in a way that makes him look naughtier than any bad little schoolgirl, and then they’re both leaning in and Kevin’s hand is cupping his face and he presses their mouths together, and David holds onto his wrist and presses back into him, and then it’s all tongues and teeth, and at one point, Kevin’s sure David’s bitten him.
It’s really okay though because David’s half-naked and working at the buttons of Kevin’s shirt to get him there too, and sooner than later, their clothes are in a pile on the grass, and David’s legs are open, and Kevin is settled in the cradle of his thighs as they kiss, his fingers curled around his hip, and he’s not completely sure what’s happening, but he’s okay with it because David’s cock rubbing against his feels good in a way he can’t really explain to himself.
They naturally didn’t plan this, so there’s little available in the way of lube, and David urgently whines out a suggestion that saliva is as good as they’re going to get. Kevin ends up on his knees in the grass, and it’s kind of itchy, and he remembers that he’s kind of allergic to it, but that’s okay, especially since he forgets all about it once his tongue is pressing inside of David, and David’s fingers are knotted in his hair and he’s arching up and grinding down against him, and Kevin’s pretty proud of himself, considering he has no idea what he’s doing.
At some point, David presses him to hurry up already, so Kevin spits in his hand, which is gross, but if he thinks about it where the slick fingers are going probably isn’t much more sanitary, so he stops thinking about it and just pushes them inside him, and David’s hands slide back to hold onto the arm of the couch, and Kevin can’t help but watch the way his biceps flex as he groans and pushes himself against Kevin’s hand. He figures he’s doing something right when David arches and gasps and comes in spurts across his stomach.
Kevin pushes himself up to mouth at his stomach, tonguing the come off with little moans of contentment until David is pressing on his head, urging him to do more productive things with his mouth, and the hot heavy weight of his cock against his tongue is so good, so strange, and Kevin lets David guide his head in bobbing until it’s pressing into his cheek because David’s hard again, and he pulls off to move up and push their mouths together.
And then big hands are on Kevin’s cock, and David’s legs are spread obscenely wide, which Kevin imagines is a good description for this whole encounter, and the actor guides him in, murmuring quietly at the pressure. Kevin can only think about how perfectly bizarre this whole situation is, and if someone told him yesterday that he would be fucking his way into David Henrie in twenty-four hours, he… Well, he probably wouldn’t find it this crazy.
David’s hands are moving restlessly against his shoulders, and Kevin thinks for the first time that maybe he’s young, and maybe he’s pretending to be more experienced than he is, except the way his legs hook around his waist, his thighs pressing to his hips, and the way he gyrates against him like a pro makes him retract the opinion a bit.
They rut together in a way that feels like they’ve done so a thousand times before, and at some point, Kevin realizes a condom may have been a good idea, but fuck if it’s not too late for it now, and besides, David arches and moans with each sharp thrust, his fingers curling against his shoulders, so consequences be damned.
He comes suddenly, when David drags blunt nails down his chest and screams out a rasping Fuck! as he comes again, and it’s hot and tight and unbelievable and Kevin’s groan is low and loud as he spills into him. They lay there tangled up for a few moments, David’s arm slung around Kevin’s neck as they kiss slowly before he pulls out. He pauses for a moment standing above him, breathless at the sight of his own come painting the insides David’s thighs sticky white, and he wants to offer to help him clean up, but David is positively filthy, his fingers sliding through it and coming to his lips to lick it away, and Kevin stops watching him so he won’t be drawn in again.
When they’re dressed, David walks beside him, an uncomfortable expression on his face, and Kevin feels guilty but doesn’t say anything because he knows him well enough to know there’s some pride at stake. When David slides the key card into his door, Kevin steps in behind him for a moment, just to press their mouths together one more time, one hand cupping his cheek, the other settled against his hip. When he pulls away, David grins at him, petting his chest lightly, and he jokes that he hopes there’s come on the couch, and you laugh because that would really piss Nick off.