[Fic] Krandrew -- What That Teasing Will Get You, NC-17
Title: What That Teasing Will Get You
Fandom: American Idol
Pairing: Kris Allen/Andrew DeRoberts
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Dub-con leanings, facial
Word Count: 1,207
Summary: Kris makes fun of Andrew on stage. Andrew gets payback.
Notes: Opening quote is an actual quote from Kris. This is flash fic written in about an hour. Un-beta-ed and probably sub-par. But hey, I got my first square of kink bingo out of the way for plaguedbymen. ( My card) \o/
What That Teasing Will Get You
“Ooo, look,” Kris coos in a high pitched voice, “I’m Andrew. My hair is so cute!”
Andrew is used to the mocking. It’s a boys club to be in this band. Taunting, teasing, flirting - they’re all fair game. And Kris is always pushing the envelope, always trying to see how much he can unnerve each of them - even if it means doing so in front of an audience, like right now. The packed auditorium - triple level auditorium, in fact - indulges in the mirth that Kris naturally brings to the stage.
He’ll pay for it, later. Andrew is certain on that.
“Live Like We’re Dying” - the final song - passes by quickly. Andrew gets in his guitar licks that encourage the audience to cheer on Kris through his lukewarm hit. Bigger acts are next and the five of them exit the stage after a measly four songs. It’s okay, though. Larger shows are on the horizon and hey, they just opened for The Fray. How wicked awesome is that?
When Kris heads down a random, dimly lit corridor backstage, he says it’s to call his wife. Andrew quietly follows Kris. He has payback on his mind. Kris has slowly compounded the need for a good reaming over the last few days. The girlish jab at his hair was the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back in Andrew’s eyes.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an asshole?” Andrew asks Kris’s back. The question is so sudden that Kris actually drops his phone.
Kris kneels to retrieve the Blackberry before musing, “Once or twice. But who’s the bigger asshole, here? I told you I was coming back here to call Katy.” Kris brushed at the cell phone’s face and gave Andrew a hard look. “You’re disrupting the matrimonial vibes, man. What the hell do you want?”
Andrew laughs; it has a slight pompous air to it, which is unavoidable. Andrew knows he’s leaps more articulate than Kris. He settles for the blunt answer. “I think it’s about time you blew me,” he says, lofty yet serious, as he leans against the nearest wall and crosses his arms.
Kris halts and pulls a face of utter confusion that makes Andrew chuckle. “You think I don’t know what you and Cale get up to?” Andrew asks. “I want in. Now.”
Wincing, Kris droops against the same mauve colored wall. “Damn it. I thought we were being careful.”
“Yeah, no.” Andrew shakes his head. “I think all of us know at this point. Well, except for maybe Torres…” His voice trails off with a shrug. “And you’ve been a complete prick to me lately.”
“It’s like - It’s like pulling on your pigtails,” Kris explains, face reddening. “You know, like if we were twelve and you were a girl I liked.”
“But I’m a dude you like.”
Kris sighs and concedes with a nod. “I can’t help it.”
“But you can manage it.”
“By blowing you?”
Andrew smirks. “That’s the idea. Glad you’ve come around to it.”
“Whoa,” Kris says as he throws up his hands. “I didn’t come around to anything-“
“Right,” Andrew interrupts. “Are you getting on your knees or not? Should I just call Katy and tell her everything, right now?”
Kris blanches. “She doesn’t know,” he whispers.
“Pardon the expression, but ‘duh’,” Andrew says as he grabs the front of Kris’s zip-up hoodie and leads them further down the hall, until it’s dark enough that he can just barely make out the tufts of Kris’s wild hair as Kris fidgets, putting away his phone.
Kris’s hands finally land on Andrew’s front, making him shudder with anticipation. Kris pats him before boldly drifting to palm the crotch of Andrew’s jeans. Andrew groans softly. Kris responds by throwing open his fly. Each movement Kris makes is hesitant. Andrew’s not sure Kris is entirely up for this and that excites him. He’s always felt like a pawn around Kris. It’s nice to take the reins for a change.
When Kris goes to his knees, Andrew finds the nearest wall with a hand and braces. Kris scrubs at the back of his neck. The nerves must be getting to him.
“First time?” Andrew asks in a curious whisper, thinking surely this can’t be.
“No,” Kris says flatly and scrubs the back of his neck. “But I usually get buttered up a little before I choke on hard dick.”
Andrew snickers. “What do you want me to do, call you ‘baby’ and coax you into it?”
“Hell no,” Kris huffs as he grabs the beltline of Andrew’s jeans. He pulls the jeans off of Andrew’s hips before rubbing his thumbs over the almost-gaunt bones. Andrew runs his hands through Kris’s hair in encouragement. Kris ducks away.
“Stop petting me,” Kris snaps. “As if this could get more demeaning.”
“Clock’s ticking,” Andrew reminds him.
Kris grumbles and slides his hand into Andrew’s boxers to grasp his dick with apprehensive fingers. He pumps slowly over Andrews length, making Andrew sigh in frustration. Andrew begins to rock his hips, seeking more friction. He stifles a yelp when Kris nips at the flesh of his waist, as if to say “I’ve got this.”
Andrew stalls his hips and Kris rolls down his underwear. Kris’s hand moves faster and Kris dabs his thumb in the precome that leaks out of Andrew’s head. It feels systematic and unwanted from Kris’s end, but there’s no way in hell Andrew is stopping him, now.
Subtly, Kris licks at Andrew’s length, making him gasp at the sudden sensation that warms his belly. Andrew’s head lulls back and he bites down, hard on his lower lip when Kris brushes those full lips over his head before swallowing half of Andrew’s dick. Andrew’s fingers tighten their brace on the wall as Kris bobs his head in time with the pumping of his fist. Andrew then beats a fist lightly when pangs shoot through his dick as Kris gets him off. Eventually, he can no longer hold back his groans and lets them sneak out with panted breaths.
Kris pulls Andrew in deeper. Andrew lets out a soft cry when his dick hits the back of Kris’s throat and Kris swallows. Kris’s hands fan out to hold Andrew’s hips steady as he works Andrew’s dick with his tongue, straining hard to breathe nasally as the spit and precome collects in his mouth.
Andrew comes with a heavy and stuttered sigh. He nearly falls forward, but Kris catches him with a shoulder as he vainly attempts to hold onto Andrew’s dick a little longer, to swallow everything pumping out of it. For his efforts, Kris gets a squirt of hot come on his cheek, which he generously wipes into Andrew’s boxers.
“Shit, Kris,” Andrew says deliriously as he grasps for his bearings and his pants. “Just…holy shit. How much dick have you sucked?”
Kris rocks back on his haunches before standing slowly. He shakes his head before straightening his clothes. “Why does everyone ask that damn question?” he mumbles before turning away.
“Everyone,” Andrew repeats breathlessly.
Kris scowls as he walks back into a brighter section of the hallway. “Shut up,” he spits out as he lifts the Blackberry to his ear. “I’m on the phone.”
Fandom: American Idol
Pairing: Kris Allen/Andrew DeRoberts
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Dub-con leanings, facial
Word Count: 1,207
Summary: Kris makes fun of Andrew on stage. Andrew gets payback.
Notes: Opening quote is an actual quote from Kris. This is flash fic written in about an hour. Un-beta-ed and probably sub-par. But hey, I got my first square of kink bingo out of the way for plaguedbymen. ( My card) \o/
What That Teasing Will Get You
“Ooo, look,” Kris coos in a high pitched voice, “I’m Andrew. My hair is so cute!”
Andrew is used to the mocking. It’s a boys club to be in this band. Taunting, teasing, flirting - they’re all fair game. And Kris is always pushing the envelope, always trying to see how much he can unnerve each of them - even if it means doing so in front of an audience, like right now. The packed auditorium - triple level auditorium, in fact - indulges in the mirth that Kris naturally brings to the stage.
He’ll pay for it, later. Andrew is certain on that.
“Live Like We’re Dying” - the final song - passes by quickly. Andrew gets in his guitar licks that encourage the audience to cheer on Kris through his lukewarm hit. Bigger acts are next and the five of them exit the stage after a measly four songs. It’s okay, though. Larger shows are on the horizon and hey, they just opened for The Fray. How wicked awesome is that?
When Kris heads down a random, dimly lit corridor backstage, he says it’s to call his wife. Andrew quietly follows Kris. He has payback on his mind. Kris has slowly compounded the need for a good reaming over the last few days. The girlish jab at his hair was the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back in Andrew’s eyes.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an asshole?” Andrew asks Kris’s back. The question is so sudden that Kris actually drops his phone.
Kris kneels to retrieve the Blackberry before musing, “Once or twice. But who’s the bigger asshole, here? I told you I was coming back here to call Katy.” Kris brushed at the cell phone’s face and gave Andrew a hard look. “You’re disrupting the matrimonial vibes, man. What the hell do you want?”
Andrew laughs; it has a slight pompous air to it, which is unavoidable. Andrew knows he’s leaps more articulate than Kris. He settles for the blunt answer. “I think it’s about time you blew me,” he says, lofty yet serious, as he leans against the nearest wall and crosses his arms.
Kris halts and pulls a face of utter confusion that makes Andrew chuckle. “You think I don’t know what you and Cale get up to?” Andrew asks. “I want in. Now.”
Wincing, Kris droops against the same mauve colored wall. “Damn it. I thought we were being careful.”
“Yeah, no.” Andrew shakes his head. “I think all of us know at this point. Well, except for maybe Torres…” His voice trails off with a shrug. “And you’ve been a complete prick to me lately.”
“It’s like - It’s like pulling on your pigtails,” Kris explains, face reddening. “You know, like if we were twelve and you were a girl I liked.”
“But I’m a dude you like.”
Kris sighs and concedes with a nod. “I can’t help it.”
“But you can manage it.”
“By blowing you?”
Andrew smirks. “That’s the idea. Glad you’ve come around to it.”
“Whoa,” Kris says as he throws up his hands. “I didn’t come around to anything-“
“Right,” Andrew interrupts. “Are you getting on your knees or not? Should I just call Katy and tell her everything, right now?”
Kris blanches. “She doesn’t know,” he whispers.
“Pardon the expression, but ‘duh’,” Andrew says as he grabs the front of Kris’s zip-up hoodie and leads them further down the hall, until it’s dark enough that he can just barely make out the tufts of Kris’s wild hair as Kris fidgets, putting away his phone.
Kris’s hands finally land on Andrew’s front, making him shudder with anticipation. Kris pats him before boldly drifting to palm the crotch of Andrew’s jeans. Andrew groans softly. Kris responds by throwing open his fly. Each movement Kris makes is hesitant. Andrew’s not sure Kris is entirely up for this and that excites him. He’s always felt like a pawn around Kris. It’s nice to take the reins for a change.
When Kris goes to his knees, Andrew finds the nearest wall with a hand and braces. Kris scrubs at the back of his neck. The nerves must be getting to him.
“First time?” Andrew asks in a curious whisper, thinking surely this can’t be.
“No,” Kris says flatly and scrubs the back of his neck. “But I usually get buttered up a little before I choke on hard dick.”
Andrew snickers. “What do you want me to do, call you ‘baby’ and coax you into it?”
“Hell no,” Kris huffs as he grabs the beltline of Andrew’s jeans. He pulls the jeans off of Andrew’s hips before rubbing his thumbs over the almost-gaunt bones. Andrew runs his hands through Kris’s hair in encouragement. Kris ducks away.
“Stop petting me,” Kris snaps. “As if this could get more demeaning.”
“Clock’s ticking,” Andrew reminds him.
Kris grumbles and slides his hand into Andrew’s boxers to grasp his dick with apprehensive fingers. He pumps slowly over Andrews length, making Andrew sigh in frustration. Andrew begins to rock his hips, seeking more friction. He stifles a yelp when Kris nips at the flesh of his waist, as if to say “I’ve got this.”
Andrew stalls his hips and Kris rolls down his underwear. Kris’s hand moves faster and Kris dabs his thumb in the precome that leaks out of Andrew’s head. It feels systematic and unwanted from Kris’s end, but there’s no way in hell Andrew is stopping him, now.
Subtly, Kris licks at Andrew’s length, making him gasp at the sudden sensation that warms his belly. Andrew’s head lulls back and he bites down, hard on his lower lip when Kris brushes those full lips over his head before swallowing half of Andrew’s dick. Andrew’s fingers tighten their brace on the wall as Kris bobs his head in time with the pumping of his fist. Andrew then beats a fist lightly when pangs shoot through his dick as Kris gets him off. Eventually, he can no longer hold back his groans and lets them sneak out with panted breaths.
Kris pulls Andrew in deeper. Andrew lets out a soft cry when his dick hits the back of Kris’s throat and Kris swallows. Kris’s hands fan out to hold Andrew’s hips steady as he works Andrew’s dick with his tongue, straining hard to breathe nasally as the spit and precome collects in his mouth.
Andrew comes with a heavy and stuttered sigh. He nearly falls forward, but Kris catches him with a shoulder as he vainly attempts to hold onto Andrew’s dick a little longer, to swallow everything pumping out of it. For his efforts, Kris gets a squirt of hot come on his cheek, which he generously wipes into Andrew’s boxers.
“Shit, Kris,” Andrew says deliriously as he grasps for his bearings and his pants. “Just…holy shit. How much dick have you sucked?”
Kris rocks back on his haunches before standing slowly. He shakes his head before straightening his clothes. “Why does everyone ask that damn question?” he mumbles before turning away.
“Everyone,” Andrew repeats breathlessly.
Kris scowls as he walks back into a brighter section of the hallway. “Shut up,” he spits out as he lifts the Blackberry to his ear. “I’m on the phone.”