Kings
Title: Kings
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Word count: 1450
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Lost in the dark. (PWP)
Disclaimer: Pure imagination. No disrespect intended.
Kings
In a room full of guys, it's bound to happen, but Kris wishes he wasn't awake to hear it. Not fair that he should be reminded of his difference in this place that’s supposed to be about belonging. Because his body’s responding, betraying him as always, his body that seems designed to respond this way. He’s asked God why, so many times, and the answering silence is the loneliest thing of all. His own will is no match for the arousal, or for the guilt. The best he can do is to keep praying for a future he doesn’t quite believe in.
But it’s real. He’s safely there, opening his eyes, exiting the nightmare loop. He's not a tenth grader at Fall Retreat, and the person jerking off a few feet away isn’t some fellow New Lifer. Adam isn’t going about it surreptitiously, either, just considerately. Hitching breaths and the occasional soft syllable that’s barely an oh. Memory supplies the image that darkness conceals, the tight slide of Adam’s hand up and down his cock, not too fast. He isn’t close yet, Kris can tell, but he radiates urgency, a fever that’s spreading to Kris already. “Adam?”
Adam stills. The mattress shifts slightly as he turns to face Kris. “Did I wake you up? Sorry. I had a really intense dream.” Kris’s jealousy flares absurdly before Adam continues, “You were--a king, I guess. I was your servant or slave or something. You barely noticed me, but I knew I was going to . . . bring you down, make you mine. It was . . . ” Pulled out of its spell, he sounds disoriented, spun around and set adrift in reality.
Maybe Kris can get lost with him. It should be easy here in the dark, with nothing but night like open ocean all around. “You need to come, don’t you?”
“Yeah . . . ”
“What if I say you can’t?”
Seconds pass. The possibilities gather, thick as the silence. Reveling as they do in comfort, they’ve never been tempted to cross into safeword territory. Yet Kris’s heart pounds with the uncertainty of how Adam will react, Adam who holds Kris's arms above his head, Adam who curls warm around him afterwards and croons to him, too giddy to sleep.
And then Adam says, humbly, “Will you let me work for it?”
Kris opens his mouth with no inkling of his next words. “That depends on what you’re offering.”
“I can suck you off.”
Kris grunts noncommittally.
“You can fuck me.” There’s no overt seduction in Adam’s delivery. The suggestion of lushness is almost subliminal, the promise of a banquet spread out for Kris alone, a harem’s worth of decadence. He adds, a flash of kohl-lined eyes and demurely bowed head, “Please, I’ll be so good for you.”
“Lie on your side.” Kris’s voice is steady, though his hands are clumsy as he gropes for what they’ll need. He pours out too much lube, the thin gel dripping messy over his balls, sure to turn sticky between their bodies. The one other time they did this, Adam talked him through it, encouraging. You’re not hurting me, I promise. Don’t stop. Kris was pinned helpless in the moment, too overwhelmed to compare the new with the known. Oh fuck, there. Just like that. You feel so good.
It’s easier now. He’s prepared for the way Adam is so closed to him at first and so welcoming inside, closing around him. The effort means that this won’t fade in sunlight, that Adam will wake up to the reminder of Kris’s claim on him.
“Don’t touch yourself,” Kris remembers to say. He strokes Adam’s chest, checking in, and Adam lifts his hand and nuzzles a kiss into it. Otherwise Adam is quiescent, waiting. “You can move,” Kris tells him, and he works himself off Kris’s cock and back on, gasping a little. The neat fit of his ass against Kris’s hips sends mixed signals to Kris’s brain: the heavy contentment of afternoon naps, the blood-pounding rush of sex. The smooth curve is the mate to his palm, the secretive cleft a lure, wet where Kris's cock has its way. No one would guess how completely Adam gives himself up. To Kris, and only Kris.
“It’s going to feel so incredible, coming inside you,” Kris whispers. “Remember?” Candlelight and slow escalation, Adam’s eyes gone dazed and Adam’s cock spilling in Kris’s hand before Kris could do more than pant, Sorry, I couldn’t, sorry.
“You couldn’t believe . . . I wanted it.” Each thrust forces a breathy noise from Adam’s throat, faint and frustrated. Not much leverage in this position, not nearly enough for someone who’s increasingly desperate to get fucked past his boundaries. Kris believes now. Callous, he licks at the defenseless spot behind Adam’s ear.
“Oh-- ” Adam turns his face into the pillow. A second lick, and he clenches on Kris’s cock.
“Did I say you could do that?” Kris pulls out, careful to suppress his own whimper of frustration. “Maybe I should spank that ass instead. Teach you a lesson.”
Adam’s broken laugh means he’ll submit, if that’s how Kris wants to own him. “I can’t stop you.”
“Aren’t you planning a takeover?” Kris can’t stay away, he’s aching with the distance between them, the length of his cock. So cold outside of you. He plasters himself against Adam’s back, the stick-slide of sweaty skin on skin putting a begging arch in Adam’s spine, beautiful. They both deserve a reward. An inch, that’s all, just a shallow nudge to bring them back together. “Don’t you want me on my knees?”
“No, just . . . just this.”
“Just what?” Kris no longer recognizes himself here in the dark, but Adam answers without hesitation. “Your cock. In me.”
“I don’t know if I can trust you to behave,” Kris says, too husky, but a brush of fingertips over the head of Adam’s cock makes up for that. Adam goes rigid. A flick of Kris’s thumb has him jerking almost out of Kris’s hold, but he’s learned, he doesn’t try to take Kris deeper. One quick shove would do it, with Kris right there, caught snug at the rim. “Ask me, make me, anything-- ”
“Don’t come.” Again, teasing the slit, painting Adam’s lips, oh God, his lips, for once as shockable as they are sweet. It’s Kris who can’t be trusted, Kris who’s barely restraining himself from rolling Adam over and kissing away the slippery gloss, floating with him to the softest of landings. “Taste,” he says, so they can fall hard. And then, “Good, that’s good,” as though Adam weren’t stripping a layer of his sanity with each tongue flick. “I think you’ve earned it.”
Such simple things, flesh and lust, synonymous by the grace of their bodies’ design. Just this. But it’s not just the strokes of Kris’s cock, smooth and full now, that make Adam melt for him. Not just that angle of all angles that makes his every breath a moan. “Kris, I-- ” He’s not asking Kris to let him come.
“Go on, say it.” Screw the rules, Kris needs to hear it the way he needs to have Adam like this. The pleading teenager he used to be needs to hear it, the answer beyond anything he’d hoped for. It fills him, shudders through him in echoes and echoes of bell-struck glory, pleasure wringing him dry and leaving him boneless and trembling. Blessed.
He separates himself from Adam with a near-painful twinge that matches Adam's low groan. On his knees in every possible way, a shaky breath away from collapsing facedown on the bed and lying there shipwrecked. Adam’s arms are there for him, Adam reading his intention, murmuring, “You don’t have to, baby.”
It’s that freely offered I love you all over again, it’s Adam putting him on a pedestal. It makes Kris crazy. “Don’t you know,” he says, raw. The heat of Adam’s cock reaches him before he gets his mouth on it and takes it in, inches farther than he usually can. Adam has fucked him open too.
“Kris, Kris-- ” No one else has ever said his name like that, like it’s the password to joy. His fingers find Adam still slick and ready for him, and Adam comes with a sob, wrenching relief and thankfulness and a hot gush in Kris’s throat. Kris swallows with nothing but gratification, his own, Adam’s, impossible to tell them apart when they’re so entwined, so much the same, the two of them one in their desire to serve each other.
--End--
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Word count: 1450
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Lost in the dark. (PWP)
Disclaimer: Pure imagination. No disrespect intended.
Kings
In a room full of guys, it's bound to happen, but Kris wishes he wasn't awake to hear it. Not fair that he should be reminded of his difference in this place that’s supposed to be about belonging. Because his body’s responding, betraying him as always, his body that seems designed to respond this way. He’s asked God why, so many times, and the answering silence is the loneliest thing of all. His own will is no match for the arousal, or for the guilt. The best he can do is to keep praying for a future he doesn’t quite believe in.
But it’s real. He’s safely there, opening his eyes, exiting the nightmare loop. He's not a tenth grader at Fall Retreat, and the person jerking off a few feet away isn’t some fellow New Lifer. Adam isn’t going about it surreptitiously, either, just considerately. Hitching breaths and the occasional soft syllable that’s barely an oh. Memory supplies the image that darkness conceals, the tight slide of Adam’s hand up and down his cock, not too fast. He isn’t close yet, Kris can tell, but he radiates urgency, a fever that’s spreading to Kris already. “Adam?”
Adam stills. The mattress shifts slightly as he turns to face Kris. “Did I wake you up? Sorry. I had a really intense dream.” Kris’s jealousy flares absurdly before Adam continues, “You were--a king, I guess. I was your servant or slave or something. You barely noticed me, but I knew I was going to . . . bring you down, make you mine. It was . . . ” Pulled out of its spell, he sounds disoriented, spun around and set adrift in reality.
Maybe Kris can get lost with him. It should be easy here in the dark, with nothing but night like open ocean all around. “You need to come, don’t you?”
“Yeah . . . ”
“What if I say you can’t?”
Seconds pass. The possibilities gather, thick as the silence. Reveling as they do in comfort, they’ve never been tempted to cross into safeword territory. Yet Kris’s heart pounds with the uncertainty of how Adam will react, Adam who holds Kris's arms above his head, Adam who curls warm around him afterwards and croons to him, too giddy to sleep.
And then Adam says, humbly, “Will you let me work for it?”
Kris opens his mouth with no inkling of his next words. “That depends on what you’re offering.”
“I can suck you off.”
Kris grunts noncommittally.
“You can fuck me.” There’s no overt seduction in Adam’s delivery. The suggestion of lushness is almost subliminal, the promise of a banquet spread out for Kris alone, a harem’s worth of decadence. He adds, a flash of kohl-lined eyes and demurely bowed head, “Please, I’ll be so good for you.”
“Lie on your side.” Kris’s voice is steady, though his hands are clumsy as he gropes for what they’ll need. He pours out too much lube, the thin gel dripping messy over his balls, sure to turn sticky between their bodies. The one other time they did this, Adam talked him through it, encouraging. You’re not hurting me, I promise. Don’t stop. Kris was pinned helpless in the moment, too overwhelmed to compare the new with the known. Oh fuck, there. Just like that. You feel so good.
It’s easier now. He’s prepared for the way Adam is so closed to him at first and so welcoming inside, closing around him. The effort means that this won’t fade in sunlight, that Adam will wake up to the reminder of Kris’s claim on him.
“Don’t touch yourself,” Kris remembers to say. He strokes Adam’s chest, checking in, and Adam lifts his hand and nuzzles a kiss into it. Otherwise Adam is quiescent, waiting. “You can move,” Kris tells him, and he works himself off Kris’s cock and back on, gasping a little. The neat fit of his ass against Kris’s hips sends mixed signals to Kris’s brain: the heavy contentment of afternoon naps, the blood-pounding rush of sex. The smooth curve is the mate to his palm, the secretive cleft a lure, wet where Kris's cock has its way. No one would guess how completely Adam gives himself up. To Kris, and only Kris.
“It’s going to feel so incredible, coming inside you,” Kris whispers. “Remember?” Candlelight and slow escalation, Adam’s eyes gone dazed and Adam’s cock spilling in Kris’s hand before Kris could do more than pant, Sorry, I couldn’t, sorry.
“You couldn’t believe . . . I wanted it.” Each thrust forces a breathy noise from Adam’s throat, faint and frustrated. Not much leverage in this position, not nearly enough for someone who’s increasingly desperate to get fucked past his boundaries. Kris believes now. Callous, he licks at the defenseless spot behind Adam’s ear.
“Oh-- ” Adam turns his face into the pillow. A second lick, and he clenches on Kris’s cock.
“Did I say you could do that?” Kris pulls out, careful to suppress his own whimper of frustration. “Maybe I should spank that ass instead. Teach you a lesson.”
Adam’s broken laugh means he’ll submit, if that’s how Kris wants to own him. “I can’t stop you.”
“Aren’t you planning a takeover?” Kris can’t stay away, he’s aching with the distance between them, the length of his cock. So cold outside of you. He plasters himself against Adam’s back, the stick-slide of sweaty skin on skin putting a begging arch in Adam’s spine, beautiful. They both deserve a reward. An inch, that’s all, just a shallow nudge to bring them back together. “Don’t you want me on my knees?”
“No, just . . . just this.”
“Just what?” Kris no longer recognizes himself here in the dark, but Adam answers without hesitation. “Your cock. In me.”
“I don’t know if I can trust you to behave,” Kris says, too husky, but a brush of fingertips over the head of Adam’s cock makes up for that. Adam goes rigid. A flick of Kris’s thumb has him jerking almost out of Kris’s hold, but he’s learned, he doesn’t try to take Kris deeper. One quick shove would do it, with Kris right there, caught snug at the rim. “Ask me, make me, anything-- ”
“Don’t come.” Again, teasing the slit, painting Adam’s lips, oh God, his lips, for once as shockable as they are sweet. It’s Kris who can’t be trusted, Kris who’s barely restraining himself from rolling Adam over and kissing away the slippery gloss, floating with him to the softest of landings. “Taste,” he says, so they can fall hard. And then, “Good, that’s good,” as though Adam weren’t stripping a layer of his sanity with each tongue flick. “I think you’ve earned it.”
Such simple things, flesh and lust, synonymous by the grace of their bodies’ design. Just this. But it’s not just the strokes of Kris’s cock, smooth and full now, that make Adam melt for him. Not just that angle of all angles that makes his every breath a moan. “Kris, I-- ” He’s not asking Kris to let him come.
“Go on, say it.” Screw the rules, Kris needs to hear it the way he needs to have Adam like this. The pleading teenager he used to be needs to hear it, the answer beyond anything he’d hoped for. It fills him, shudders through him in echoes and echoes of bell-struck glory, pleasure wringing him dry and leaving him boneless and trembling. Blessed.
He separates himself from Adam with a near-painful twinge that matches Adam's low groan. On his knees in every possible way, a shaky breath away from collapsing facedown on the bed and lying there shipwrecked. Adam’s arms are there for him, Adam reading his intention, murmuring, “You don’t have to, baby.”
It’s that freely offered I love you all over again, it’s Adam putting him on a pedestal. It makes Kris crazy. “Don’t you know,” he says, raw. The heat of Adam’s cock reaches him before he gets his mouth on it and takes it in, inches farther than he usually can. Adam has fucked him open too.
“Kris, Kris-- ” No one else has ever said his name like that, like it’s the password to joy. His fingers find Adam still slick and ready for him, and Adam comes with a sob, wrenching relief and thankfulness and a hot gush in Kris’s throat. Kris swallows with nothing but gratification, his own, Adam’s, impossible to tell them apart when they’re so entwined, so much the same, the two of them one in their desire to serve each other.
--End--