fic: the undying, the divine
fic: the undying, the divine
pairing: Chris/Darren
rating: nc-17
warnings: hmmm I don't usually post warnings but infidelity I know is a major one for people and mild breathplay but it's sort of skimmed over
summary: it's Chris's wedding night and he just wants to be fucked one last time. hopelssly in love with him and drunk on feelings and vodka, Darren is finding it hard to resist.
a/n: this actually came to me after reading The Great Gatsby, would you believe it. for those who've read it, think how Jordan met Daisy and that was where this image was from. title taken from the Florence and the Machine song, Bedroom Hymns.
--
Darren wasn’t really sure what had been going through Max’s head as he picked this place out. It was practically ancient and falling apart under their feet, complete with creaky stairs and squeaking floorboards. The walls were lined with ancient velvet and the chandeliers were pretty he’d admit. But the whole place kinda spooked him honestly.
Downing the rest of his vodka (shamelessly straight), Darren embraced the burn in his throat. Tonight had been hard but he knew tomorrow would be harder. Chris was the one that got away. He was more of a nymph than ever, hardly real, slipping through his fingers all the time.
Only this time it was for good.
Max. Fucking Max. Taking him away from him.
It wasn’t fair. Darren loved Chris.
But Chris loved Max. And he made him happy.
So Darren hadn’t done anything.
But ugh, the only way he had survived Chris’s buck’s night was by drinking away his sorrows. Thankfully Chris had gotten tired pretty quickly and told them to go out and have fun while he rested in his room. Darren knew he and Chris had gotten separate rooms so he was only a little hesitant when he knocked on his door. He hadn’t wanted to go out drinking with the guys. He wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. But he thought maybe one last conversation. One last special, stolen moment.
It would just mean something more to him than it would to Chris.
But it still meant something, right?
“Chris,” he called, tapping gently on the door in case he was actually asleep. But his voice called from within, beckoning him in, husky and dark in a way that made Darren shiver. He pushed the door open tentatively, hoping Chris hadn’t caught a cold…
Darren’s hand began to shake on its position on the doorknob. He shut the door hastily behind him. This was a sight for no one’s eyes but his.
No, Max’s.
But
Fuck.
The room was in the same style as the other’s but larger. The walls sheathed in thick purple velvet, a large four poster bed with matching velvet drapes, the centre of the space. Laying across the black silk sheets was Chris, his lithe body spread across the covers, his eyes smoky and wide, burning as they locked with Darren’s.
Darren’s heart stopped as he drunk in the magnificent man laid before him. his small waist was knotted in a lacy black corset with lacy velvet trimmings. Sheer black stockings ran up his long legs and caressed the strong muscles of his thighs, held in place with thick black garters that Chris had his fingerless gloved hands sneaking under playfully.
His heavy framed black lashes batted up at him and he untangled one of his hands from his stockings, reaching out for Darren.
“Come closer,” he purred seductively.
“Chris…” Darren said wearily, summoning all his restraint, despite the growing ache straining in his black slacks. Chris looked… Chris was…
Fuck.
The things Darren wanted to do to him…
“I should go,” Darren muttered, more to himself than Chris, attempting to avert his eyes.
“No,” Chris said quickly, rolling over onto his stomach to get a better look at him. He moved slowly closer across the sheets towards him. “You can’t go yet,” he whispered huskily. “Not when I need you…”
Darren swallowed hard. “Need…me?” he repeated weakly. Chris nodded, his eyes locked heavily beckoning him silently closer. Darren felt his legs moving of their own accord until his knees were hitting the bed and Chris was sliding up his torso, his hands playing tantalisingly with his tie.
Darren shut his eyes painfully. “I can’t do this, Chris. Max…”
“Doesn’t have to know,” Chris whispered, his breath hot over his ear. Darren felt a delightful shudder fever through him and Chris’s hands were pulling his blazer off slowly. “I have one more night of freedom, Darren,” he reminded him and Darren knew the words were wrong even to his own addled mind. “And Max is strictly a bottom. I’ll never be fucked again…” the glumness of his voice would be amusing if it weren’t for the position they were in.
“Chris…” Darren murmured pleadingly.
“Darren,” Chris breathed, finally managing to pull his blazer off. He discarded it on the floor beside them before snaking his hands around his neck. “Please, Darren… I’m so tight,” he buried his face in Darren’s collarbone, “I need you to fuck me, so bad, so bad…”
Darren wanted to cry. He wanted Chris so bad it literally ached in his chest. But it was so wrong…
But he could feel Chris against him, and his broken moans echoing in his ears were deliciously beautiful and hot and painful and Darren found himself fisting his hands into the ribbons of his corset, tugging him closer. Gasping at the friction, Chris rolled his hips, moving their aching cocks against each other. Darren grabbed at his thighs, his nails scratching angry, distressed marks against his impossibly pale skin.
“Please, please, Darren,” Chris whimpered, “fuck me.”
And Darren was gone.
Darren had dreamt about this. He had dreamt about kissing him sweet and slow and pressing him back against his bed, the rain pattering prettily against the windows, the way their noses would rub together as they laughed, their fingers intertwining, just so happy to be together.
This was nothing like he had imagined.
He kissed him and it was hard and it was rough and needy and their teeth clicked together and their hands were everywhere. Darren didn’t know what he wanted, his own mind too distressed to form coherent thoughts. There was just want and there was need and there was Chris.
And everything else was drowned out under their shared breaths and desperate cries.
Darren pushed Chris on his back, straddling his thighs and pulling at his ribbons harshly. They should stop, they should instigate a safe word, he should tell Chris they could stop if he wanted.
But he lost hold of what he should be doing and gave into want, selfish want and greed, tugging at his ribbons as Chris writhed helplessly beneath him, his hands tangling harshly into Darren’s hair. Darren released him and he was gasping, not for breath but for more, for Darren for his cock to fuck him already.
But Darren wasn’t done yet.
He had wanted him for so long. He wasn’t going to let this slip past.
Not the way all his other opportunities had.
Sliding down his small frame, he hooked his teeth into his garters, pulling them down teasingly, his teeth just gently scraping at his skin. He traced his tongue over the same path and Chris shuddered, his head thrown back gracefully against the pillows, his cheeks flushed, his lips bruised and looking so stunning that Darren would have taken him just then.
Chris let out a scream of frustration as Darren skimmed his teeth around his upper thigh, ignoring his cock once more. Darren smiled smugly against his skin as he removed his other stocking, tossing it aside with the other.
“Shame,” he whispered. “They looked so good on you.” He ran his palms up Chris’s bare legs and let his eyes flutter shut. He had dreamed about doing that for too long and he felt just as good as he imagined. “But,” he concluded after a moment, opening his eyes to meet Chris’s wide, frantic ones, “I think you look better without them.”
Chris shuddered under his hands, letting out a reverent finally as Darren palmed him over his boy shorts. Chris rolled his hips up into his touch and let out a breathy whimper as he mouthed around the hem of his shorts, skimming the skin under the fabric with his teeth before hooking his fingers under, sliding them down. Chris sighed in relief, letting his head fall back once more. Darren wrapped his fingers tightly around Chris’s cock, crawling back up him to kiss roughly at his neck, letting his teeth nip at the skin.
“Oh, oh, Darren!”
It took all he had to pull himself off Chris. At the loss of contact Chris whined and Darren hurried to remove his shirt and pants, leaping back on the bed as quick as he could, kissing Chris messily, winding his hands into his hair.
“Want you now,” Darren murmured against his lips. Chris let out a relieved exhale, nodding frantically. “Lube?”
“Drawer,” Chris answered promptly, crawling across the sheets to reach it. Darren kept his eyes trained on his ass, thinking of how in just minutes he would be fucking that tight little space, those perfect cheeks under his hands, quivering with effort as he spread himself for him…
He nearly came on the spot.
Uncapping the lube quickly, Chris moved to squeeze some out but Darren stopped him.
“What are you doing?” he asked in a growl. “That’s my job. Tonight, you're mine.”
And Chris’s wide, obedient stare told him it was true. Just tonight, in the remaining hours before dawn, fast slipping away through their fingertips just like everything else…
In those hours they were each other’s.
Darren took the lube from Chris, coating his fingers generously. Chris climbed into his lap and Darren groaned as Chris arched his back, pressing his thick cock against him as he raised his ass, ready for him.
Darren went as slowly as he could with the first finger. Chris was right. He was tight and the muscle squeezed around his finger as Darren tried to work his way in. chris screwed his brow up, pushing his hips down, seeking more pressure.
“Don’t go slow, Darren,” Chris whispered, “I need you, please.”
Giving in, Darren slipped in another finger, twisting persistently until he finally grazes the little spot of nerves that has Chris muffling a broken scream into his shoulder, their chests heaving together as they pant heavily, the heat between them building and building and pulling them steadily under.
Darren kept his hand steady on Chris’s waist, grabbing with the other for the lube. Chris whined at the loss of his touch, burying his head in the nook of his collarbone and sucking needily at the skin. His hands shaking, Darren tried to coat himself the best he could before tossing the lube aside and lining himself up with Chris once more. Chris gasped, excited and eager, his eyes bright and ready. Darren doesn’t even have to ask.
His grip on his hips is steady and he pressed their foreheads together, getting the nose brushes he dreamt of. A small smile graced his lips at the thought but Chris wiped it off, kissing him deeply as Darren pushed in, a shuddering exhale falling from his lips as the tight heat consumed him.
Darren’s name bubbled over Chris’s lips in a stream of frantic cries, and Darren fisted his hands into the velvet of his corset, struggling to find something to hold onto as his whole body shook with the onslave of sensation. He buried himself completely in Chris at last, a long wail leaving him as Chris clenched tightly around him.
He could hardly breathe, tugging forcefully against Chris’s corset, slamming his hips against him relentlessly, letting himself go completely as he fucked him hard, sweat dripping from both of them, running droplets across their heated skin as they moved together, their skin slipping easily. Darren licked up Chris’s neck, tracing over his scar which was enough to make Chris keen, high and desperate, grabbing a hold of Darren’s hips and slamming him into him once more before he arched his back, coming hard over Darren’s chest. Darren followed after, screaming as Chris tightened around him once more.
When it was over they separated slowly, Chris still gripping tightly to his hip, keeping him close. Darren reached over to the drawers and grabbed the tissues, wiping them down carefully, planting a tender kiss against Chris’s skin when he was done.
“Darren?” Chris asked suddenly as Darren threw their dirty things away. “Do you love me?”
It took a minute for Darren to register his words, still a little numb in his post orgasm haze.
He perched himself on the bed beside Chris, taking his hands in his.
“Hey,” he said softly, nudging Chris’s ducked chin with his forehead, trying to get him to meet his eyes. “What’s going on?”
When Chris finally met his eyes, Darren was shocked at the wet pooling in them. Darren brushed them aside gently before they could escape.
“Oh, Chris…” he murmured, his heart aching with guilt. He had ruined everything, hadn’t he…?
“I’m scared,” Chris admitted at alst, his voice barely a whisper. “I…I don’t want to get married yet.”
The confession echoed through the tense humidity of the room, pounding through Darren’s ears although it was uttered in the quietest voice. It was practically deafening.
“Are you… are you sure?” Darren ahd to check. “You’re not just getting cold feet?”
Chris shook his head. “I mean… I guess I sort of am… I don’t know.” He sighed. “I’m so young… there’s so much I want to do and I love Max, I do, so much… just…” he clenched his eyes shut, a few tears dancing down from under closed lids. “I don’t want this.”
Darren nodded, squeezing his hands tight.
“Whatever you choose,” Darren told him earnestly, “I’ll be there every step of the way.”
Chris nodded, sniffling a little as he kissed Darren’s forehead.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “That’s all I ever needed.”
pairing: Chris/Darren
rating: nc-17
warnings: hmmm I don't usually post warnings but infidelity I know is a major one for people and mild breathplay but it's sort of skimmed over
summary: it's Chris's wedding night and he just wants to be fucked one last time. hopelssly in love with him and drunk on feelings and vodka, Darren is finding it hard to resist.
a/n: this actually came to me after reading The Great Gatsby, would you believe it. for those who've read it, think how Jordan met Daisy and that was where this image was from. title taken from the Florence and the Machine song, Bedroom Hymns.
--
Darren wasn’t really sure what had been going through Max’s head as he picked this place out. It was practically ancient and falling apart under their feet, complete with creaky stairs and squeaking floorboards. The walls were lined with ancient velvet and the chandeliers were pretty he’d admit. But the whole place kinda spooked him honestly.
Downing the rest of his vodka (shamelessly straight), Darren embraced the burn in his throat. Tonight had been hard but he knew tomorrow would be harder. Chris was the one that got away. He was more of a nymph than ever, hardly real, slipping through his fingers all the time.
Only this time it was for good.
Max. Fucking Max. Taking him away from him.
It wasn’t fair. Darren loved Chris.
But Chris loved Max. And he made him happy.
So Darren hadn’t done anything.
But ugh, the only way he had survived Chris’s buck’s night was by drinking away his sorrows. Thankfully Chris had gotten tired pretty quickly and told them to go out and have fun while he rested in his room. Darren knew he and Chris had gotten separate rooms so he was only a little hesitant when he knocked on his door. He hadn’t wanted to go out drinking with the guys. He wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. But he thought maybe one last conversation. One last special, stolen moment.
It would just mean something more to him than it would to Chris.
But it still meant something, right?
“Chris,” he called, tapping gently on the door in case he was actually asleep. But his voice called from within, beckoning him in, husky and dark in a way that made Darren shiver. He pushed the door open tentatively, hoping Chris hadn’t caught a cold…
Darren’s hand began to shake on its position on the doorknob. He shut the door hastily behind him. This was a sight for no one’s eyes but his.
No, Max’s.
But
Fuck.
The room was in the same style as the other’s but larger. The walls sheathed in thick purple velvet, a large four poster bed with matching velvet drapes, the centre of the space. Laying across the black silk sheets was Chris, his lithe body spread across the covers, his eyes smoky and wide, burning as they locked with Darren’s.
Darren’s heart stopped as he drunk in the magnificent man laid before him. his small waist was knotted in a lacy black corset with lacy velvet trimmings. Sheer black stockings ran up his long legs and caressed the strong muscles of his thighs, held in place with thick black garters that Chris had his fingerless gloved hands sneaking under playfully.
His heavy framed black lashes batted up at him and he untangled one of his hands from his stockings, reaching out for Darren.
“Come closer,” he purred seductively.
“Chris…” Darren said wearily, summoning all his restraint, despite the growing ache straining in his black slacks. Chris looked… Chris was…
Fuck.
The things Darren wanted to do to him…
“I should go,” Darren muttered, more to himself than Chris, attempting to avert his eyes.
“No,” Chris said quickly, rolling over onto his stomach to get a better look at him. He moved slowly closer across the sheets towards him. “You can’t go yet,” he whispered huskily. “Not when I need you…”
Darren swallowed hard. “Need…me?” he repeated weakly. Chris nodded, his eyes locked heavily beckoning him silently closer. Darren felt his legs moving of their own accord until his knees were hitting the bed and Chris was sliding up his torso, his hands playing tantalisingly with his tie.
Darren shut his eyes painfully. “I can’t do this, Chris. Max…”
“Doesn’t have to know,” Chris whispered, his breath hot over his ear. Darren felt a delightful shudder fever through him and Chris’s hands were pulling his blazer off slowly. “I have one more night of freedom, Darren,” he reminded him and Darren knew the words were wrong even to his own addled mind. “And Max is strictly a bottom. I’ll never be fucked again…” the glumness of his voice would be amusing if it weren’t for the position they were in.
“Chris…” Darren murmured pleadingly.
“Darren,” Chris breathed, finally managing to pull his blazer off. He discarded it on the floor beside them before snaking his hands around his neck. “Please, Darren… I’m so tight,” he buried his face in Darren’s collarbone, “I need you to fuck me, so bad, so bad…”
Darren wanted to cry. He wanted Chris so bad it literally ached in his chest. But it was so wrong…
But he could feel Chris against him, and his broken moans echoing in his ears were deliciously beautiful and hot and painful and Darren found himself fisting his hands into the ribbons of his corset, tugging him closer. Gasping at the friction, Chris rolled his hips, moving their aching cocks against each other. Darren grabbed at his thighs, his nails scratching angry, distressed marks against his impossibly pale skin.
“Please, please, Darren,” Chris whimpered, “fuck me.”
And Darren was gone.
Darren had dreamt about this. He had dreamt about kissing him sweet and slow and pressing him back against his bed, the rain pattering prettily against the windows, the way their noses would rub together as they laughed, their fingers intertwining, just so happy to be together.
This was nothing like he had imagined.
He kissed him and it was hard and it was rough and needy and their teeth clicked together and their hands were everywhere. Darren didn’t know what he wanted, his own mind too distressed to form coherent thoughts. There was just want and there was need and there was Chris.
And everything else was drowned out under their shared breaths and desperate cries.
Darren pushed Chris on his back, straddling his thighs and pulling at his ribbons harshly. They should stop, they should instigate a safe word, he should tell Chris they could stop if he wanted.
But he lost hold of what he should be doing and gave into want, selfish want and greed, tugging at his ribbons as Chris writhed helplessly beneath him, his hands tangling harshly into Darren’s hair. Darren released him and he was gasping, not for breath but for more, for Darren for his cock to fuck him already.
But Darren wasn’t done yet.
He had wanted him for so long. He wasn’t going to let this slip past.
Not the way all his other opportunities had.
Sliding down his small frame, he hooked his teeth into his garters, pulling them down teasingly, his teeth just gently scraping at his skin. He traced his tongue over the same path and Chris shuddered, his head thrown back gracefully against the pillows, his cheeks flushed, his lips bruised and looking so stunning that Darren would have taken him just then.
Chris let out a scream of frustration as Darren skimmed his teeth around his upper thigh, ignoring his cock once more. Darren smiled smugly against his skin as he removed his other stocking, tossing it aside with the other.
“Shame,” he whispered. “They looked so good on you.” He ran his palms up Chris’s bare legs and let his eyes flutter shut. He had dreamed about doing that for too long and he felt just as good as he imagined. “But,” he concluded after a moment, opening his eyes to meet Chris’s wide, frantic ones, “I think you look better without them.”
Chris shuddered under his hands, letting out a reverent finally as Darren palmed him over his boy shorts. Chris rolled his hips up into his touch and let out a breathy whimper as he mouthed around the hem of his shorts, skimming the skin under the fabric with his teeth before hooking his fingers under, sliding them down. Chris sighed in relief, letting his head fall back once more. Darren wrapped his fingers tightly around Chris’s cock, crawling back up him to kiss roughly at his neck, letting his teeth nip at the skin.
“Oh, oh, Darren!”
It took all he had to pull himself off Chris. At the loss of contact Chris whined and Darren hurried to remove his shirt and pants, leaping back on the bed as quick as he could, kissing Chris messily, winding his hands into his hair.
“Want you now,” Darren murmured against his lips. Chris let out a relieved exhale, nodding frantically. “Lube?”
“Drawer,” Chris answered promptly, crawling across the sheets to reach it. Darren kept his eyes trained on his ass, thinking of how in just minutes he would be fucking that tight little space, those perfect cheeks under his hands, quivering with effort as he spread himself for him…
He nearly came on the spot.
Uncapping the lube quickly, Chris moved to squeeze some out but Darren stopped him.
“What are you doing?” he asked in a growl. “That’s my job. Tonight, you're mine.”
And Chris’s wide, obedient stare told him it was true. Just tonight, in the remaining hours before dawn, fast slipping away through their fingertips just like everything else…
In those hours they were each other’s.
Darren took the lube from Chris, coating his fingers generously. Chris climbed into his lap and Darren groaned as Chris arched his back, pressing his thick cock against him as he raised his ass, ready for him.
Darren went as slowly as he could with the first finger. Chris was right. He was tight and the muscle squeezed around his finger as Darren tried to work his way in. chris screwed his brow up, pushing his hips down, seeking more pressure.
“Don’t go slow, Darren,” Chris whispered, “I need you, please.”
Giving in, Darren slipped in another finger, twisting persistently until he finally grazes the little spot of nerves that has Chris muffling a broken scream into his shoulder, their chests heaving together as they pant heavily, the heat between them building and building and pulling them steadily under.
Darren kept his hand steady on Chris’s waist, grabbing with the other for the lube. Chris whined at the loss of his touch, burying his head in the nook of his collarbone and sucking needily at the skin. His hands shaking, Darren tried to coat himself the best he could before tossing the lube aside and lining himself up with Chris once more. Chris gasped, excited and eager, his eyes bright and ready. Darren doesn’t even have to ask.
His grip on his hips is steady and he pressed their foreheads together, getting the nose brushes he dreamt of. A small smile graced his lips at the thought but Chris wiped it off, kissing him deeply as Darren pushed in, a shuddering exhale falling from his lips as the tight heat consumed him.
Darren’s name bubbled over Chris’s lips in a stream of frantic cries, and Darren fisted his hands into the velvet of his corset, struggling to find something to hold onto as his whole body shook with the onslave of sensation. He buried himself completely in Chris at last, a long wail leaving him as Chris clenched tightly around him.
He could hardly breathe, tugging forcefully against Chris’s corset, slamming his hips against him relentlessly, letting himself go completely as he fucked him hard, sweat dripping from both of them, running droplets across their heated skin as they moved together, their skin slipping easily. Darren licked up Chris’s neck, tracing over his scar which was enough to make Chris keen, high and desperate, grabbing a hold of Darren’s hips and slamming him into him once more before he arched his back, coming hard over Darren’s chest. Darren followed after, screaming as Chris tightened around him once more.
When it was over they separated slowly, Chris still gripping tightly to his hip, keeping him close. Darren reached over to the drawers and grabbed the tissues, wiping them down carefully, planting a tender kiss against Chris’s skin when he was done.
“Darren?” Chris asked suddenly as Darren threw their dirty things away. “Do you love me?”
It took a minute for Darren to register his words, still a little numb in his post orgasm haze.
He perched himself on the bed beside Chris, taking his hands in his.
“Hey,” he said softly, nudging Chris’s ducked chin with his forehead, trying to get him to meet his eyes. “What’s going on?”
When Chris finally met his eyes, Darren was shocked at the wet pooling in them. Darren brushed them aside gently before they could escape.
“Oh, Chris…” he murmured, his heart aching with guilt. He had ruined everything, hadn’t he…?
“I’m scared,” Chris admitted at alst, his voice barely a whisper. “I…I don’t want to get married yet.”
The confession echoed through the tense humidity of the room, pounding through Darren’s ears although it was uttered in the quietest voice. It was practically deafening.
“Are you… are you sure?” Darren ahd to check. “You’re not just getting cold feet?”
Chris shook his head. “I mean… I guess I sort of am… I don’t know.” He sighed. “I’m so young… there’s so much I want to do and I love Max, I do, so much… just…” he clenched his eyes shut, a few tears dancing down from under closed lids. “I don’t want this.”
Darren nodded, squeezing his hands tight.
“Whatever you choose,” Darren told him earnestly, “I’ll be there every step of the way.”
Chris nodded, sniffling a little as he kissed Darren’s forehead.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “That’s all I ever needed.”