Fic: "Sunnyside Up" - Mike/Kevin, Hard R
Title: Sunnyside Up
Authors: xrysomou and xaritomene
Rating: Hard R
Pairing: Mike Carden/Kevin Jonas ('The Academy Is...'/The Jonas Brothers. Oh god.)
Warnings: Sex, drugs and rock and roll! Well, two out of three ain't bad. (And there's drinking involved?)
Word Count: 5215
Summary: Mike didn't go out with the intention of picking up some drunken kid, but sometimes things just happen that way.
Disclaimer: No. (Or, not ours, ain't real, please don't sue us.)
AN: Written with xaritomene and posted to cheer her up. And also because I was supposed to post this a week ago. Better late than never?
Cross-posted to our private journals, bandslashmania, sodamnskippy and theacademyslash. Sorry for any spam!
Mike had been glaring at the bartender for the last ten minutes, but since that didn’t seem to be working, he headed over to the bar. “Kronenberg, please,” he said, glancing down the bar. It was pretty much empty at that moment, unsurprising since it was barely eight on a Wednesday night. Had Mike not had a very trying day battling out the next album with Bill, he wouldn’t have been there himself.
There was the usual smattering of dead-beat drunks, and the one nearest to him caught his eye - usually the dead-beats looked a little older than sixteen. This one seemed to have lost all motor control and was slumped over on himself on the stool, swaying very gently and humming to himself under his breath.
Having caught Mike’s eyes on him, he beamed brightly, and went back to his rapt contemplation of his beer bottle.
“Hey, man,” Mike hailed the bartender again. “Have you actually been serving that kid alcohol?” He asked very quietly, though he wasn’t entirely sure the kid would have heard him if he had bellowed it.
“He had a passport,” the bartender shrugged. “Normally fake ID don’t come in passport form.”
Mike kept his surprise that the kid had brought a passport here to himself. These weren’t exactly the mean streets, but still. “And he was legal?”
“Passport said nineteen-eighty-seven,” the guy said, all interest lost. Mike pressed his luck with one more question.
“How many has he had?”
“Like, three beers,” the bartender said. “Look, man, if you’re interested, talk to him yourself - this ain’t a dating agency.” He headed off down the bar, and Mike took his drink back to his little corner, deliberating silently but viciously with himself over what to do. His inner-Bill, the irritating little morality angel on his shoulder, told him to go over and at least make sure everything was OK. His inner-Carden was telling him to leave it the fuck alone. After all, if he’d been drinking alone aged, what, just twenty one? Twenty two? He wouldn’t have wanted some officious older stranger coming over and telling him he’d had enough.
Then again, aged twenty one, he wouldn’t have been drinking alone. That kicked it.
He went over and slid into the bar stool next to the kid. “Hey,” he said awkwardly. “How you doin’?”
“I know you! You smiled at me!” The kid said and he sounded delighted.
Mike winced. He’d hoped the kid wouldn’t remember that. He would have felt a little less like he was scouting the place out and preying on drunken innocents if the kid hadn’t remembered he’d been there before. He was perfectly used to being creepy and lurking in the background, but he didn’t normally get called on it. “Er, yeah, I did. I’m Mike.”
“Kevin,” the kid said, beam still firmly in place.
“Hi,” Mike repeated pointlessly. “So, um. Is everything OK, kid? Because you seem really kind of - down.”
The beam dimmed a little. “It’s really kind of you to notice,” he said, “but I’m fine. Fine, fine, fine.” He trailed off with a little hiccup, his expression the biggest contradiction possible to his words.
“OK. So... why are you here? You with anyone? Anyone who could take you home, maybe?” To Mike’s ears, that sounded a little wrong. “Your own home,” he clarified.
“Oh. No,” the kid actually looked a little devastated. “I moved out. Couple of years ago. Got my own place!”
Mike, who had had his own place since he was seventeen, albeit through Bill’s soulless retail job, nodded. “Huh, pretty cool. So, you heading back there soon?”
“Oh, no,” Kevin shook his head. “It’s in New York.”
That was something of a stick in Mike’s wheels. “OK then. Well, why-” ‘Why are you here’ sounded a little abrupt, so he changed tack quickly. “What’s brought you to Chicago, huh?”
“I wanted a break. From. Everything.” The kid started picking at the label on his beer bottle. “It’s a bit big, though. Chicago. But it’s not very windy, though.”
“Not today, no,” Mike agreed. “Sometimes, though. So, er, you’ll be staying in a hotel?”
“Yes. They’re kind of unfriendly, though. Behind the uniform...”
Mike waited to see if anything else was forthcoming. When it was clear that Kevin’s attention had once again been caught by his beer bottle, Mike cleared his throat. “You’ll be heading back there pretty soon, right?”
“No, I - I don’t think so. I think I’ll stay here a little longer, have a couple more...”
“Kid, that might not be the best idea...”
“Why not?” Kevin blinked big, innocent eyes at Mike.
Inner-Carden warred furiously with Inner-Bill for a long moment, then he sighed. Inner-Bill inevitably won. “Kid, why don’t you tell me what’s up? Why the big break?”
“My parents,” Kevin said, looking sadly down at his beer again. Mike sighed - wasn’t that always the way? “They’re really religious.”
Like that didn’t spell it out. “Right,” Mike paused. “You gay or getting divorced?” The ring on Kevin’s ring finger was a confusing factor.
“Gay,” Kevin said morosely. “Haven’t told ’em yet. Don’t think I ever can.”
“It’s not my business, I know, but...” This, right here, was why Mike had never become an agony aunt. He needed Bill for this kind of crap. “Well, that’s not the healthiest way to go about shit.”
“I know,” Kevin said, his eyes starting to slip in and out of focus. “But what they don’t know can’t hurt them. Or me. Right?”
For one moment, Mike felt desperately, horribly sorry for the kid. “I’m sorry, can’t help you with that one, kid. You’re gonna have to figure it out on your own. Look, why don’t we get some fresh air and see if we can sober you up a little? You might feel better without all the alcohol...”
Kevin nodded agreeably and slid down off his barstool - and down, and down. Mike caught him before he hit the ground.
“OK, kid, c’mon, up you come.” He slung one of Kevin’s arms around his neck, hoisting him out with him into the cold night. He struggled along in silence with Kevin’s feet shuffling along and barely keeping him upright, before he had the presence of mind to ask the name of his sudden companion’s hotel. “Hey, dude-” but it was too late. Kevin was a fair way past coherence, and even Mike’s rather tentative taps to his cheek didn’t help matters. Finally, Mike heaved a sigh. He couldn’t leave him here, and he couldn’t take him back to his hotel - wherever that might be - so he’d just have to take him home.
“Right,” he said to no one in particular, then stuck his free arm out for a cab. No way was he hauling the kid the five or six blocks back to his apartment.
As he manoeuvred Kevin up the stairs to his front door, he muttered at him under his breath. “OK, you better not freak out and call the police when you’re more with it, OK?” Still conscious but more than a little dazed, Kevin only smiled at him. “Mm, yeah,” Mike said sceptically. “This is gonna go well. I’m not going to rape you or beat you or steal from you or whatever, alright?”
“Mmm,” Kevin agreed sleepily.
“You’re gonna come in, sleep things off, and then we can find out where you’re staying,” Mike said, lugging Kevin down towards his bedroom and pouring him into his bed.
Kevin was out the moment his head hit the pillow, and for a long moment, Mike stood staring down at him. He might have felt better about his philanthropic gesture had the kid not been so fucking hot.
**
Kevin woke at about one in the morning, completely disorientated, his mouth dry. He remembered vaguely where he was - he remembered a hot guy with kind eyes who’d talked to him and been nice to him and finally had ushered him to bed and - hang on. He did a mental tally. No, he didn’t feel - no. No, he was OK.
OK.
Swinging his legs out of bed, he headed towards the light he could see through the open doorway.
The guy who had brought him here was sat on the sofa fooling around with a guitar. “Oh, hey, kid - hey, woah!” he added, when Kevin stumbled, disorientated by the bright lights. Large, warm hands caught his shoulders, the guitar hanging on by the strap round the guys neck. “Hey, you alright?”
“Eurgh?” Kevin managed, eloquently, then wanted to die. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just wanted to say - thanks. I must have made a total idiot out of myself.”
The guy smiled. It was a pretty weird smile, but it was friendly, and Kevin felt warmth begin to pool in the pit of his stomach. “Nah, not an idiot. No more than every kid who can just drink.” Kevin stared at the guy, beginning to realise just how much he wanted him, and hey, wasn’t that a scary thought.
“You know,” Kevin said, licking his lips inexpertly, “I’d really like to show how grateful I am...”
“Um?” The guy looked wary.
“I mean - you gave me a bed for the night?”
“Yeah. I didn’t ask for anything in return,” the guy said, expression beginning to cool a little.
“But you could!” Kevin said hopefully, “I mean, I’d let you! You’d be my first,” he admitted, “but that wouldn’t matter, right?”
The guy’s expression outright froze. “Kid, it really, really would. Look, just go back to bed, sleep it off, OK?”
“I’m not drunk!” he said, only half a lie - he was a little drunk, but not enough to be properly
incapacitated.
“Oh, trust me, you are.”
Kevin took a deep breath. “OK,” he said, deciding to come clean. “I am, a little. But not really. And - I know, you would be,” he swallowed. “Look, I know this is ridiculous high school cliché, OK? But I’d like you to be my first. You’re the first nice guy I’ve come across who’s hot and the first hot guy I’ve come across who’s nice and to top it off, you’re not a total psycho! I think you’re a win-win.”
The man smiled a little. “What kind of people have you been hanging out with?” He asked.
“Disney, mostly,” Kevin said earnestly.
“Right,” the guy swallowed a little. “So, what’s your name, then?”
“Kevin?”
“Kevin? I’m Mike. Nice to meet you. You’re - look, are you really fucking sure about this?”
“You mean you want to?”
“Yes,” Mike acknowledged. “I want to. And I’m going to hell for it, because you’re what, twelve?”
“Twenty one,” Kevin said reprovingly. “Legal, in every state.”
“Oh my god, stop talking.”
“If you don’t want to do this, that’s totally O-” Mike’s control could only last so long, and he cut Kevin off with a kiss. It was nothing Disney - it was messy and dirty and perfect, lips sliding across lips and teeth nipping at his bottom lip. Kevin kind of liked it, more still because he wasn’t sure he was supposed to.
When Mike pulled away, he was panting into his neck. “You OK, kid?”
“More than OK,” Kevin grinned, and launched himself at Mike, who caught him with a sudden, surprised laugh, arms catching him round the waist as Kevin landed in his lap. Mike wasn’t a saint, and he’d checked the kid was legal and willing, and he could damn well see he was gorgeous - Mike went for it.
He licked filthily at the bottom lip of the kid’s closed-mouth kiss, enjoying the feeling of the kid’s shudder, and yanking him still closer. The kid - Kevin - it seemed was a fast learner, and his next kiss was open-mouthed and a little less inhibited.
“You ever done this before, kid?”
“I told you I hadn’t,” Kevin said, sitting back. “Is that a problem, cos-”
Mike hauled him forwards again. “No, no - come here,” he licked at the corner of his mouth. “God, you’re so fucking hot.”
Kevin grinned. “Y’ain’t so bad yourself,” he said, trying not to sound bashful and grinning into Mike’s face. Mike groaned and kissed him again, hands sliding a little further down, pulling back a little to make sure Kevin was OK. The expression he was presented with was one of apparent bliss.
“Hey, er, d’you want to move this to the bedroom?” Mike asked, hands firm at Kevin’s waist.
“Wha’?” Kevin said, kiss-drunk.
“Bedroom. I have stuff there,” Mike said, hauling Kevin impossibly closer.
“OK,” Kevin said agreeably.
Mike grinned, and helped Kevin upright, but paused when they reached the door of the bedroom. “Kid, you OK? Cos I don’t wanna-”
“Of course I’m OK,” Kevin grinned and yanked him forwards. Apparently, his tug was a little too forceful, since they ended up tangled up in each other, falling onto the bed, Kevin sprawled on top of Mike. “Hi,” Kevin said in a tiny voice, looking down at him.
Mike grinned back, smoothing Kevin’s hair away from his forehead. “Hi,” he returned. “You’re sure, right?”
“I’m sure,” Kevin agreed stoutly.
Mike rolled them over until he was on top of Kevin, pinning him down into the mattress. Kevin swallowed then moaned as Mike bit a filthy kiss onto the sensitive skin of his neck. Immediately, he flushed with embarrassment, and Mike pulled back and grinned at him. “Hey, I told you. Fucking hot, kid.”
“I’m not the hot one,” Kevin said, blushing harder despite himself and hating himself for it, intensely aware of his own body beneath Mike’s. Rather than hear Mike’s protestations, he distracted him with an inexpert but enthusiastic kiss, capturing his mouth and opening his own mouth hopefully. Mike helpfully took the bait, and Kevin arched a little helplessly, feeling Mike’s hands at the waistband of his pants.
“Fuck,” he moaned and felt Mike smile into his collarbone through the thin cotton of his T-shirt.
“Yeah,” Mike agreed, muttering, “Christ, kid, I want you so fucking much.”
Kevin shivered. “Then - OK,” he blurted out smoothly, blushing to the roots of his hair.
Mike just grinned, not seeming put off by Kevin’s apparent total lack of social skills (though, really, what was the etiquette for this anyway?), and slid Kevin's pants down to his knees, leaving Kevin to kick them the full way off. Kevin didn’t know what to do with himself, unsure and ungainly under Mike, and he jumped a little as Mike’s hand settled at his hip.
Mike clearly realised, thumb rubbing soothing circles over his hipbone. “You sure you’re OK, kid?”
Kevin dithered a little and Mike started to pull back. Startled, Kevin grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. “No, look, I promise, OK, I promise I’m OK with this,” he said firmly. “I’m just a little...” he waved his hand awkwardly. “New to all this.”
Mike nodded, look still uncomfortably searching. “Gotcha. Look, kid, I wasn’t planning anything hardcore.” He paused. “I wasn’t actually planning anything at all, but now we’re here, and you’re sure...?”
“I’m sure!” Kevin said again, insistently.
“So, let’s just - play it by ear, OK?”
“OK,” Kevin said, beginning to relax.
“I’m not exactly an expert in virginity,” Mike said, a touch of deprecation in his tone, “so you’ve gotta keep me informed, OK? Tell me what feels good and what you don’t want me doing-”
“It’s not going to hurt, is it?” Kevin asked nervously.
Mike glanced up at him. “I was only planning on sucking you off,” he said casually, “so if it’s hurting, I’m doing something very wrong.” Kevin had gone bright scarlet and embarrassingly hard, but Mike just laughed, hand sliding from his hip-bone to his cock. Kevin actually whimpered, and then clamped his mouth shut. “Hey, kid,” Mike said, hand still on Kevin’s dick, “did no one tell you that noises in bed are sexy?” It wasn’t really a topic which came up all that much at Disney, Kevin thought inanely, and was grateful he’d managed not to say that aloud. “Not to mention,” Mike continued, sliding down the bed a little, “good for keeping me informed.”
Kevin managed a nod, but nothing more, and then all but cried out when Mike licked a broad stripe up his dick.
Mike pulled back, the teasing bastard. “So far, so good?” He asked.
“Um, yes,” Kevin squeaked, fingers fisting in the duvet.
Mike sucked the head of Kevin’s cock into his mouth, then held his hips down when they threatened to buck him right off. Kevin moaned, enjoying it too much to be embarrassed, and he felt Mike smile - which, um, weird. Mike’s hand closed around the rest of his cock, and he pumped it once, twice, and Kevin could feel his orgasm building low in his stomach, and managed, somehow, to formulate the words to tell Mike.
“S’cuse me, I think... I’m going to...” Kevin whimpered, throwing his head back as Mike pulled off and he came.
-
Mike gave him a moment to come back down to earth, rubbing lazy circles on his thigh. “So, how was it?” Kevin gave him a wordless sound of affirmation. “I hope that’s a good sound?” Kevin sat up and nodded emphatically. “Good. Well, I’m going to go-”
Kevin glanced at him and before Mike had time to react, he had practically thrown himself across his lap, limbs still shaking slightly. “But you’re hard,” he whispered, very close to Mike’s ear.
Mike shuddered a little, but resolutely (if gently) pushed Kevin away. “Am I?” He said, a faint ring of sarcasm in his tone. “How ’bout that? Anyway, this has been fun, but I’m-” going to go and jerk off like a loser in the bathroom, his psyche supplied.
Kevin looked ridiculously disappointed, and interrupted before Mike could finish. “But I want to try-”
“Hey, kid - I’m not actually a total skeeze. I might have molested you a little bit, and y’know, I’m sorry that it’s not with someone you-” he broke off. He was really bad at this - at least hell would be warm - but God help him, he was not going to say ‘with someone you loved’. “Y’know, I wouldn’t be surprised if in the morning you wanted to, like, report me or some shit like that-”
“Why would I want to report you?” Kevin asked, genuinely bemused. “And what would I charge you with? An awesome blowjob?”
Mike buried his head in his hands. He could actually hear Bill’s lyrics in his head - the song would be called “Mike’s Bumpy Handcart to Hell”, and Bill would take an unholy relish in singing it. “I was thinking more ‘rape’, but-”
“-because it was an awesome blowjob,” Kevin said, apparently without even listening to him.
“You’re really not listening, are you?” Mike said redundantly as Kevin steamrollered on.
“I would have let you know, if I didn’t want you to do something,” Kevin said earnestly.
“That’s - reassuring,” Mike said slowly, even as Kevin said brightly:
“So I would really appreciate if you let me blow you right now.”
Mike paused. “Wait, what?”
“You’re not taking advantage of me,” Kevin said earnestly. “If anything, I’m taking advantage of you.” He leant forwards and whispered in Mike’s ear, “because I really, really want to suck you off.”
Mike grabbed desperately at the last disappearing threads of restraint and moral decency. “I really don’t think-“
Kevin gave him wide, innocent eyes, tinged with eagerness. “ But I really want to...?”
Mike winced. His moral compass was only so strong. “If you’re sure...?” he said slowly, and Kevin pounced.
“Oh, I’m sure,” he said, lunging for Mike and pinning to the bed before Mike had a chance to react.
Mike just about managed to push him off. “Dude, seriously. Wait a second.”
“No.”
“What? We need to talk about this-”
“No, we don’t,” Kevin said blithely.
Mike grinned suddenly, and before Kevin had a chance to say a goddamn word, Mike had somehow flipped them over so that Kevin was the one pinned to the bed, and was kissing the shit out of him. Kevin had always thought that kissing was kind of weird - someone else’s tongue in your mouth, oh my god - but it turned out that with Mike, it was less weird, more hot. He moaned into Mike’s mouth, and Mike pulled away, panting a little.
“Y’ever done this before?”
“Well...” Kevin dithered a moment before deciding on honesty. “No. But I’m always told I’m a fast learner?”
Mike pulled away a little. “Well, it’s your show kid. Whatever you wanna do, at your speed.”
Kevin grinned. “I really, really wanna blow you.”
Mike sounded a little strained when he replied. “I wouldn’t exactly object,” he admitted. Kevin grinned and slid down a little before Mike paused him by laying a hand on his shoulder.
“What?” Kevin demanded.
“I just wanna make sure you’re - sure, kid,” Mike said, and Kevin nodded emphatically.
“I am so fucking sure,” he assured him, feeling edgy and daring because of the swearing he would never do around his parents, dangerous on the tip of his tongue.
“OK then.”
Kevin unzipped Mike’s jeans and tried to suppress a vague, unspecified sense of triumph. He was really doing this, and the guy wasn’t an asshole, and he was actually fucking hot. Kevin had no idea how he got so lucky, but he intended to make the most of it.
He managed to get maybe half of Mike’s cock into his mouth before he started to gag a little around it. Frowning, he pulled off and tried to swallow it back down. Suddenly, Mike’s hand was in his hair, pulling him off and wow that was a kink Kevin hadn’t known he had. When Kevin glanced up, Mike’s eyes were intent on his own.
“OK, compromise.” As Kevin started to protest, Mike held up his free hand. “I know, I know - but this way, you still have a voice and some self-respect in the morning, and I still get off. Win/win, right?” Kevin was already so turned on, he could only really manage a nod.
“What is this compromise?” he managed eventually.
Mike grinned, not relaxing the grip he had on Kevin’s hair for a moment. “Wrap your hand around my dick,” he ordered, and Kevin did so unquestioningly. “Now, kiss your hand,” he ordered, and Kevin actually shivered with lust, wrapping his lips around Mike’s cock and sliding down until his lips met his own hand. Mike moaned, clearly trying very hard not to buck up into his own hand. Kevin, emboldened by his success, sucked delicately on Mike’s dick, then pulled back and flicked his tongue over the head. Mike shuddered, and Kevin grinned. This was awesome. Slowly, carefully, he slid his hands up Mike’s cock.
“Fuck,” Mike groaned, one hand fisting in the sheets, the other hand tightening in Kevin’s hair. “Shit, kid, this - your - ” Kevin hummed his agreement, then had to pull back sharply as Mike’s hips bucked, shoving his dick deeper into Kevin’s mouth than expected. “Shit, shit, sorry!” he managed, then, “I’m - I’m - ” then he was coming. Kevin caught half a mouthful of the stuff and pulled off, taking the rest across one cheek and pulling a face. Mike looked genuinely sheepish. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-” he stopped. “You can spit, if you like. The sheets could use a wash anyway.”
Kevin felt a little sheepish, but did it anyway - it really didn’t taste that great. He dithered a little, then Mike was beckoning him back up the bed, and Kevin crawled somewhat awkwardly up the bed until he could curl up under Mike’s chin. He might have been hard, but he was pretty sure the evening was over - until he felt Mike’s hand slide down the front of the tracksuit trousers he’d been manoeuvred into earlier that night. He squeaked embarrassingly, and Mike chuckled against his ear.
“Oh, for the refractory period of a twenty-one year old,” he said teasingly, and slid his (somewhat sweaty) hand up Kevin’s dick - once, twice, then down, cupping his balls before he slid back up Kevin’s dick and rubbed his thumb gently over the slit. That was all it took, and Kevin was coming again with a muffled groan, feeling strung out and weak, but markedly less pent-up and desperate than he had been feeling for the past week. It was strangely liberating.
Once he had recovered a little, he curled somewhat tentatively around Mike, and Mike slid a strangely protective arm around his shoulders. That, and the fantastic sex, was all it took for Kevin to slip over into sleep. Mike grinned, wrapped himself around his dozing bed partner and fell asleep himself.
Neither of them, of course, knew exactly what the next day would hold, but both of them had the sneaking suspicion that it would be awesome.
**
As it turned out, the next day brought Kevin his very own hangover. He made an inarticulate sound of misery and rolled over towards Mike for some comfort - only to find his side of the bed very definitely empty and the sheets cold. Immediately he sat up and regretted it as the room did a lazy waltz around him.
When things had steadied somewhat, he pushed himself out of bed and ignored the urge to go looking for Mike immediately, stumbling instead into the bathroom. He looked bad, he realised, face waxy and pale, hair everywhere. And his mouth tasted like something had died in it - he needed to sort shit out first. Hopefully Mike wouldn’t mind him using his toothpaste, he thought, smearing some hopefully onto his forefinger and rubbing at his teeth (and his tongue, God. He hadn’t even known it could turn that colour).
By the time Kevin appeared in the kitchen, he looked a little more decent, having scraped a wet hand through his hair and splashed water on his face. At least he didn’t look quite as much like death as he had before. Mike had made coffee, and was padding around in a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt that read ‘The Academy Is...’. Kevin couldn’t stop himself.
“‘The Academy Is...’ what?” he asked.
Mike jumped a little, but calmed himself. “Drunk, mostly,” he admitted, pushing a cup of coffee across the table to Kevin. Kevin sipped and looked around surreptitiously for sugar. “Also, me.”
“Just you? Doing what?”
Mike gave him a look. “There are others. It’s a band.”
Suddenly it made sense. “Ooh!” Kevin beamed. “Awesome!”
“Thanks. You want sugar?” Kevin could have kissed him. In fact, Kevin had kissed him, and maybe he should do it again - but maybe in the future, when Mike wasn’t looking quite so forbidding.
Mike could admit to himself that he was acting like the typical morning-after jackass, but things would have been so much easier if Kevin hadn’t looked so, well, debauched. His hair was in disarray, despite an obvious attempt at grooming it, his lips were kiss-red and there was a hickey just under his jaw, half-hidden by his hair. He had clearly dragged his own jeans back on and had pulled his T-shirt on, though he’d left his button-down God only knew where, and all in all, he presented a picture which made Mike want to march directly down to the police station and hand himself in.
He was a bad, bad man.
Kevin was grinning at him, though, and Mike couldn’t bring himself to be that much of a bastard, so he smiled back, handing him the jar of sugar. “So, sleep well?”
“Like a rock,” Kevin said cheerfully. In fact, he was just generally over-cheerful for the entire situation, and he was practically emanating I got LAID! vibes. “How ’bout you?”
Mike would have loved to be able to say that his conscience had kept him awake, but it had not. “Yeah, not bad,” he admitted. “So, you’ll be wanting to head back to your hotel, right?” Kevin’s face fell and Mike realised he might have sounded far too pointed, but before he could say anything to make it better, Kevin was already talking.
“Oh, um - yeah, of course, you’ve got stuff to do,” he said, backing away. “And like you say, I should get going, so, I’ll - um -”
Mike sighed. “Jesus, kid, at least have breakfast first,” he said, meaning every word of the invitation. He reached up to grab a frying pan out of a cupboard. “What kind of operation do you think I’m running here?”
“The kind where you’re a creepy old man preying on young innocents?” Kevin said sweetly, and Mike swung round so fast he almost hit him in the face with the pan. Kevin, damn him, was grinning unrepentantly, and Mike let himself sag back against the counter, cracking the first genuine smile of the day.
“Jesus, don’t do that,” he said firmly, and Kevin actually laughed. “Also, hey, you little bastard, I’m not old!”
“I know!” Kevin said quickly. “And I know you’re not creepy or any of the rest of that stuff, but even I can tell you’re kind of thinking that, and I’m not the brightest crayon in the drawer.” Mike considered this, nodded and moved on. “So how old are you anyway?” Kevin asked.
“Twenty four,” he said then added quickly, “which is not old!”
“I know,” Kevin nodded, still smiling a little. It was bizarrely cute, so Mike cleared his throat to distract himself and asked gruffly,
“How do you want your eggs?”
“Unfertilised!” Kevin chirped and Mike opened his mouth, then shut it again.
“Too late,” he said finally. “Sunnyside up it is.”
**
Mike was a little worried by just how unawkward breakfast was. He’d had his fair share of fun-time, no-strings one-night-stands, and he’d equally done his fair share of sneaking out before the other guy woke up, just so as to avoid embarrassingly stilted morning conversations over cereal. They weren’t supposed to go like this - for a drunk, barroom pick up, Kevin was probably one of the nicer guys Mike had spent time with recently.
Right now, that pretty much included his entire band.
So when Kevin was fed, showered, reunited with his belongings and hovering awkwardly by the door, Mike was strangely reluctant to let him go just like that. “I’ll, er, see you out,” he offered and Kevin beamed, reaching out before Mike could dodge and all-but cuddling him and pecking him on the cheek. Mike hugged him back, and pulled away gently, searching around for a pen and paper. “Look, I’ll just give you my number,” he said awkwardly, scribbling it down on a torn take-out menu. “If you wanna talk about anything - seriously, um, anything -I’m, er. Yeah.” He gave an awkward little wave then wanted to kill himself, but Kevin took the number with a look on his face like it was the Holy Grail.
“Thanks,” he said reverently, tucking it into his wallet, and Mike nodded.
“No problem?” he offered, and Kevin grinned - and Mike’s willpower was demonstrably not that strong, so it really wasn’t a shock that he leant forward and kissed him.
Kevin both blushed and beamed, and Mike followed him down to street level with a small smile of his own.
**
OK, well. Please do tell us what you thought!
Authors: xrysomou and xaritomene
Rating: Hard R
Pairing: Mike Carden/Kevin Jonas ('The Academy Is...'/The Jonas Brothers. Oh god.)
Warnings: Sex, drugs and rock and roll! Well, two out of three ain't bad. (And there's drinking involved?)
Word Count: 5215
Summary: Mike didn't go out with the intention of picking up some drunken kid, but sometimes things just happen that way.
Disclaimer: No. (Or, not ours, ain't real, please don't sue us.)
AN: Written with xaritomene and posted to cheer her up. And also because I was supposed to post this a week ago. Better late than never?
Cross-posted to our private journals, bandslashmania, sodamnskippy and theacademyslash. Sorry for any spam!
Mike had been glaring at the bartender for the last ten minutes, but since that didn’t seem to be working, he headed over to the bar. “Kronenberg, please,” he said, glancing down the bar. It was pretty much empty at that moment, unsurprising since it was barely eight on a Wednesday night. Had Mike not had a very trying day battling out the next album with Bill, he wouldn’t have been there himself.
There was the usual smattering of dead-beat drunks, and the one nearest to him caught his eye - usually the dead-beats looked a little older than sixteen. This one seemed to have lost all motor control and was slumped over on himself on the stool, swaying very gently and humming to himself under his breath.
Having caught Mike’s eyes on him, he beamed brightly, and went back to his rapt contemplation of his beer bottle.
“Hey, man,” Mike hailed the bartender again. “Have you actually been serving that kid alcohol?” He asked very quietly, though he wasn’t entirely sure the kid would have heard him if he had bellowed it.
“He had a passport,” the bartender shrugged. “Normally fake ID don’t come in passport form.”
Mike kept his surprise that the kid had brought a passport here to himself. These weren’t exactly the mean streets, but still. “And he was legal?”
“Passport said nineteen-eighty-seven,” the guy said, all interest lost. Mike pressed his luck with one more question.
“How many has he had?”
“Like, three beers,” the bartender said. “Look, man, if you’re interested, talk to him yourself - this ain’t a dating agency.” He headed off down the bar, and Mike took his drink back to his little corner, deliberating silently but viciously with himself over what to do. His inner-Bill, the irritating little morality angel on his shoulder, told him to go over and at least make sure everything was OK. His inner-Carden was telling him to leave it the fuck alone. After all, if he’d been drinking alone aged, what, just twenty one? Twenty two? He wouldn’t have wanted some officious older stranger coming over and telling him he’d had enough.
Then again, aged twenty one, he wouldn’t have been drinking alone. That kicked it.
He went over and slid into the bar stool next to the kid. “Hey,” he said awkwardly. “How you doin’?”
“I know you! You smiled at me!” The kid said and he sounded delighted.
Mike winced. He’d hoped the kid wouldn’t remember that. He would have felt a little less like he was scouting the place out and preying on drunken innocents if the kid hadn’t remembered he’d been there before. He was perfectly used to being creepy and lurking in the background, but he didn’t normally get called on it. “Er, yeah, I did. I’m Mike.”
“Kevin,” the kid said, beam still firmly in place.
“Hi,” Mike repeated pointlessly. “So, um. Is everything OK, kid? Because you seem really kind of - down.”
The beam dimmed a little. “It’s really kind of you to notice,” he said, “but I’m fine. Fine, fine, fine.” He trailed off with a little hiccup, his expression the biggest contradiction possible to his words.
“OK. So... why are you here? You with anyone? Anyone who could take you home, maybe?” To Mike’s ears, that sounded a little wrong. “Your own home,” he clarified.
“Oh. No,” the kid actually looked a little devastated. “I moved out. Couple of years ago. Got my own place!”
Mike, who had had his own place since he was seventeen, albeit through Bill’s soulless retail job, nodded. “Huh, pretty cool. So, you heading back there soon?”
“Oh, no,” Kevin shook his head. “It’s in New York.”
That was something of a stick in Mike’s wheels. “OK then. Well, why-” ‘Why are you here’ sounded a little abrupt, so he changed tack quickly. “What’s brought you to Chicago, huh?”
“I wanted a break. From. Everything.” The kid started picking at the label on his beer bottle. “It’s a bit big, though. Chicago. But it’s not very windy, though.”
“Not today, no,” Mike agreed. “Sometimes, though. So, er, you’ll be staying in a hotel?”
“Yes. They’re kind of unfriendly, though. Behind the uniform...”
Mike waited to see if anything else was forthcoming. When it was clear that Kevin’s attention had once again been caught by his beer bottle, Mike cleared his throat. “You’ll be heading back there pretty soon, right?”
“No, I - I don’t think so. I think I’ll stay here a little longer, have a couple more...”
“Kid, that might not be the best idea...”
“Why not?” Kevin blinked big, innocent eyes at Mike.
Inner-Carden warred furiously with Inner-Bill for a long moment, then he sighed. Inner-Bill inevitably won. “Kid, why don’t you tell me what’s up? Why the big break?”
“My parents,” Kevin said, looking sadly down at his beer again. Mike sighed - wasn’t that always the way? “They’re really religious.”
Like that didn’t spell it out. “Right,” Mike paused. “You gay or getting divorced?” The ring on Kevin’s ring finger was a confusing factor.
“Gay,” Kevin said morosely. “Haven’t told ’em yet. Don’t think I ever can.”
“It’s not my business, I know, but...” This, right here, was why Mike had never become an agony aunt. He needed Bill for this kind of crap. “Well, that’s not the healthiest way to go about shit.”
“I know,” Kevin said, his eyes starting to slip in and out of focus. “But what they don’t know can’t hurt them. Or me. Right?”
For one moment, Mike felt desperately, horribly sorry for the kid. “I’m sorry, can’t help you with that one, kid. You’re gonna have to figure it out on your own. Look, why don’t we get some fresh air and see if we can sober you up a little? You might feel better without all the alcohol...”
Kevin nodded agreeably and slid down off his barstool - and down, and down. Mike caught him before he hit the ground.
“OK, kid, c’mon, up you come.” He slung one of Kevin’s arms around his neck, hoisting him out with him into the cold night. He struggled along in silence with Kevin’s feet shuffling along and barely keeping him upright, before he had the presence of mind to ask the name of his sudden companion’s hotel. “Hey, dude-” but it was too late. Kevin was a fair way past coherence, and even Mike’s rather tentative taps to his cheek didn’t help matters. Finally, Mike heaved a sigh. He couldn’t leave him here, and he couldn’t take him back to his hotel - wherever that might be - so he’d just have to take him home.
“Right,” he said to no one in particular, then stuck his free arm out for a cab. No way was he hauling the kid the five or six blocks back to his apartment.
As he manoeuvred Kevin up the stairs to his front door, he muttered at him under his breath. “OK, you better not freak out and call the police when you’re more with it, OK?” Still conscious but more than a little dazed, Kevin only smiled at him. “Mm, yeah,” Mike said sceptically. “This is gonna go well. I’m not going to rape you or beat you or steal from you or whatever, alright?”
“Mmm,” Kevin agreed sleepily.
“You’re gonna come in, sleep things off, and then we can find out where you’re staying,” Mike said, lugging Kevin down towards his bedroom and pouring him into his bed.
Kevin was out the moment his head hit the pillow, and for a long moment, Mike stood staring down at him. He might have felt better about his philanthropic gesture had the kid not been so fucking hot.
**
Kevin woke at about one in the morning, completely disorientated, his mouth dry. He remembered vaguely where he was - he remembered a hot guy with kind eyes who’d talked to him and been nice to him and finally had ushered him to bed and - hang on. He did a mental tally. No, he didn’t feel - no. No, he was OK.
OK.
Swinging his legs out of bed, he headed towards the light he could see through the open doorway.
The guy who had brought him here was sat on the sofa fooling around with a guitar. “Oh, hey, kid - hey, woah!” he added, when Kevin stumbled, disorientated by the bright lights. Large, warm hands caught his shoulders, the guitar hanging on by the strap round the guys neck. “Hey, you alright?”
“Eurgh?” Kevin managed, eloquently, then wanted to die. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just wanted to say - thanks. I must have made a total idiot out of myself.”
The guy smiled. It was a pretty weird smile, but it was friendly, and Kevin felt warmth begin to pool in the pit of his stomach. “Nah, not an idiot. No more than every kid who can just drink.” Kevin stared at the guy, beginning to realise just how much he wanted him, and hey, wasn’t that a scary thought.
“You know,” Kevin said, licking his lips inexpertly, “I’d really like to show how grateful I am...”
“Um?” The guy looked wary.
“I mean - you gave me a bed for the night?”
“Yeah. I didn’t ask for anything in return,” the guy said, expression beginning to cool a little.
“But you could!” Kevin said hopefully, “I mean, I’d let you! You’d be my first,” he admitted, “but that wouldn’t matter, right?”
The guy’s expression outright froze. “Kid, it really, really would. Look, just go back to bed, sleep it off, OK?”
“I’m not drunk!” he said, only half a lie - he was a little drunk, but not enough to be properly
incapacitated.
“Oh, trust me, you are.”
Kevin took a deep breath. “OK,” he said, deciding to come clean. “I am, a little. But not really. And - I know, you would be,” he swallowed. “Look, I know this is ridiculous high school cliché, OK? But I’d like you to be my first. You’re the first nice guy I’ve come across who’s hot and the first hot guy I’ve come across who’s nice and to top it off, you’re not a total psycho! I think you’re a win-win.”
The man smiled a little. “What kind of people have you been hanging out with?” He asked.
“Disney, mostly,” Kevin said earnestly.
“Right,” the guy swallowed a little. “So, what’s your name, then?”
“Kevin?”
“Kevin? I’m Mike. Nice to meet you. You’re - look, are you really fucking sure about this?”
“You mean you want to?”
“Yes,” Mike acknowledged. “I want to. And I’m going to hell for it, because you’re what, twelve?”
“Twenty one,” Kevin said reprovingly. “Legal, in every state.”
“Oh my god, stop talking.”
“If you don’t want to do this, that’s totally O-” Mike’s control could only last so long, and he cut Kevin off with a kiss. It was nothing Disney - it was messy and dirty and perfect, lips sliding across lips and teeth nipping at his bottom lip. Kevin kind of liked it, more still because he wasn’t sure he was supposed to.
When Mike pulled away, he was panting into his neck. “You OK, kid?”
“More than OK,” Kevin grinned, and launched himself at Mike, who caught him with a sudden, surprised laugh, arms catching him round the waist as Kevin landed in his lap. Mike wasn’t a saint, and he’d checked the kid was legal and willing, and he could damn well see he was gorgeous - Mike went for it.
He licked filthily at the bottom lip of the kid’s closed-mouth kiss, enjoying the feeling of the kid’s shudder, and yanking him still closer. The kid - Kevin - it seemed was a fast learner, and his next kiss was open-mouthed and a little less inhibited.
“You ever done this before, kid?”
“I told you I hadn’t,” Kevin said, sitting back. “Is that a problem, cos-”
Mike hauled him forwards again. “No, no - come here,” he licked at the corner of his mouth. “God, you’re so fucking hot.”
Kevin grinned. “Y’ain’t so bad yourself,” he said, trying not to sound bashful and grinning into Mike’s face. Mike groaned and kissed him again, hands sliding a little further down, pulling back a little to make sure Kevin was OK. The expression he was presented with was one of apparent bliss.
“Hey, er, d’you want to move this to the bedroom?” Mike asked, hands firm at Kevin’s waist.
“Wha’?” Kevin said, kiss-drunk.
“Bedroom. I have stuff there,” Mike said, hauling Kevin impossibly closer.
“OK,” Kevin said agreeably.
Mike grinned, and helped Kevin upright, but paused when they reached the door of the bedroom. “Kid, you OK? Cos I don’t wanna-”
“Of course I’m OK,” Kevin grinned and yanked him forwards. Apparently, his tug was a little too forceful, since they ended up tangled up in each other, falling onto the bed, Kevin sprawled on top of Mike. “Hi,” Kevin said in a tiny voice, looking down at him.
Mike grinned back, smoothing Kevin’s hair away from his forehead. “Hi,” he returned. “You’re sure, right?”
“I’m sure,” Kevin agreed stoutly.
Mike rolled them over until he was on top of Kevin, pinning him down into the mattress. Kevin swallowed then moaned as Mike bit a filthy kiss onto the sensitive skin of his neck. Immediately, he flushed with embarrassment, and Mike pulled back and grinned at him. “Hey, I told you. Fucking hot, kid.”
“I’m not the hot one,” Kevin said, blushing harder despite himself and hating himself for it, intensely aware of his own body beneath Mike’s. Rather than hear Mike’s protestations, he distracted him with an inexpert but enthusiastic kiss, capturing his mouth and opening his own mouth hopefully. Mike helpfully took the bait, and Kevin arched a little helplessly, feeling Mike’s hands at the waistband of his pants.
“Fuck,” he moaned and felt Mike smile into his collarbone through the thin cotton of his T-shirt.
“Yeah,” Mike agreed, muttering, “Christ, kid, I want you so fucking much.”
Kevin shivered. “Then - OK,” he blurted out smoothly, blushing to the roots of his hair.
Mike just grinned, not seeming put off by Kevin’s apparent total lack of social skills (though, really, what was the etiquette for this anyway?), and slid Kevin's pants down to his knees, leaving Kevin to kick them the full way off. Kevin didn’t know what to do with himself, unsure and ungainly under Mike, and he jumped a little as Mike’s hand settled at his hip.
Mike clearly realised, thumb rubbing soothing circles over his hipbone. “You sure you’re OK, kid?”
Kevin dithered a little and Mike started to pull back. Startled, Kevin grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. “No, look, I promise, OK, I promise I’m OK with this,” he said firmly. “I’m just a little...” he waved his hand awkwardly. “New to all this.”
Mike nodded, look still uncomfortably searching. “Gotcha. Look, kid, I wasn’t planning anything hardcore.” He paused. “I wasn’t actually planning anything at all, but now we’re here, and you’re sure...?”
“I’m sure!” Kevin said again, insistently.
“So, let’s just - play it by ear, OK?”
“OK,” Kevin said, beginning to relax.
“I’m not exactly an expert in virginity,” Mike said, a touch of deprecation in his tone, “so you’ve gotta keep me informed, OK? Tell me what feels good and what you don’t want me doing-”
“It’s not going to hurt, is it?” Kevin asked nervously.
Mike glanced up at him. “I was only planning on sucking you off,” he said casually, “so if it’s hurting, I’m doing something very wrong.” Kevin had gone bright scarlet and embarrassingly hard, but Mike just laughed, hand sliding from his hip-bone to his cock. Kevin actually whimpered, and then clamped his mouth shut. “Hey, kid,” Mike said, hand still on Kevin’s dick, “did no one tell you that noises in bed are sexy?” It wasn’t really a topic which came up all that much at Disney, Kevin thought inanely, and was grateful he’d managed not to say that aloud. “Not to mention,” Mike continued, sliding down the bed a little, “good for keeping me informed.”
Kevin managed a nod, but nothing more, and then all but cried out when Mike licked a broad stripe up his dick.
Mike pulled back, the teasing bastard. “So far, so good?” He asked.
“Um, yes,” Kevin squeaked, fingers fisting in the duvet.
Mike sucked the head of Kevin’s cock into his mouth, then held his hips down when they threatened to buck him right off. Kevin moaned, enjoying it too much to be embarrassed, and he felt Mike smile - which, um, weird. Mike’s hand closed around the rest of his cock, and he pumped it once, twice, and Kevin could feel his orgasm building low in his stomach, and managed, somehow, to formulate the words to tell Mike.
“S’cuse me, I think... I’m going to...” Kevin whimpered, throwing his head back as Mike pulled off and he came.
-
Mike gave him a moment to come back down to earth, rubbing lazy circles on his thigh. “So, how was it?” Kevin gave him a wordless sound of affirmation. “I hope that’s a good sound?” Kevin sat up and nodded emphatically. “Good. Well, I’m going to go-”
Kevin glanced at him and before Mike had time to react, he had practically thrown himself across his lap, limbs still shaking slightly. “But you’re hard,” he whispered, very close to Mike’s ear.
Mike shuddered a little, but resolutely (if gently) pushed Kevin away. “Am I?” He said, a faint ring of sarcasm in his tone. “How ’bout that? Anyway, this has been fun, but I’m-” going to go and jerk off like a loser in the bathroom, his psyche supplied.
Kevin looked ridiculously disappointed, and interrupted before Mike could finish. “But I want to try-”
“Hey, kid - I’m not actually a total skeeze. I might have molested you a little bit, and y’know, I’m sorry that it’s not with someone you-” he broke off. He was really bad at this - at least hell would be warm - but God help him, he was not going to say ‘with someone you loved’. “Y’know, I wouldn’t be surprised if in the morning you wanted to, like, report me or some shit like that-”
“Why would I want to report you?” Kevin asked, genuinely bemused. “And what would I charge you with? An awesome blowjob?”
Mike buried his head in his hands. He could actually hear Bill’s lyrics in his head - the song would be called “Mike’s Bumpy Handcart to Hell”, and Bill would take an unholy relish in singing it. “I was thinking more ‘rape’, but-”
“-because it was an awesome blowjob,” Kevin said, apparently without even listening to him.
“You’re really not listening, are you?” Mike said redundantly as Kevin steamrollered on.
“I would have let you know, if I didn’t want you to do something,” Kevin said earnestly.
“That’s - reassuring,” Mike said slowly, even as Kevin said brightly:
“So I would really appreciate if you let me blow you right now.”
Mike paused. “Wait, what?”
“You’re not taking advantage of me,” Kevin said earnestly. “If anything, I’m taking advantage of you.” He leant forwards and whispered in Mike’s ear, “because I really, really want to suck you off.”
Mike grabbed desperately at the last disappearing threads of restraint and moral decency. “I really don’t think-“
Kevin gave him wide, innocent eyes, tinged with eagerness. “ But I really want to...?”
Mike winced. His moral compass was only so strong. “If you’re sure...?” he said slowly, and Kevin pounced.
“Oh, I’m sure,” he said, lunging for Mike and pinning to the bed before Mike had a chance to react.
Mike just about managed to push him off. “Dude, seriously. Wait a second.”
“No.”
“What? We need to talk about this-”
“No, we don’t,” Kevin said blithely.
Mike grinned suddenly, and before Kevin had a chance to say a goddamn word, Mike had somehow flipped them over so that Kevin was the one pinned to the bed, and was kissing the shit out of him. Kevin had always thought that kissing was kind of weird - someone else’s tongue in your mouth, oh my god - but it turned out that with Mike, it was less weird, more hot. He moaned into Mike’s mouth, and Mike pulled away, panting a little.
“Y’ever done this before?”
“Well...” Kevin dithered a moment before deciding on honesty. “No. But I’m always told I’m a fast learner?”
Mike pulled away a little. “Well, it’s your show kid. Whatever you wanna do, at your speed.”
Kevin grinned. “I really, really wanna blow you.”
Mike sounded a little strained when he replied. “I wouldn’t exactly object,” he admitted. Kevin grinned and slid down a little before Mike paused him by laying a hand on his shoulder.
“What?” Kevin demanded.
“I just wanna make sure you’re - sure, kid,” Mike said, and Kevin nodded emphatically.
“I am so fucking sure,” he assured him, feeling edgy and daring because of the swearing he would never do around his parents, dangerous on the tip of his tongue.
“OK then.”
Kevin unzipped Mike’s jeans and tried to suppress a vague, unspecified sense of triumph. He was really doing this, and the guy wasn’t an asshole, and he was actually fucking hot. Kevin had no idea how he got so lucky, but he intended to make the most of it.
He managed to get maybe half of Mike’s cock into his mouth before he started to gag a little around it. Frowning, he pulled off and tried to swallow it back down. Suddenly, Mike’s hand was in his hair, pulling him off and wow that was a kink Kevin hadn’t known he had. When Kevin glanced up, Mike’s eyes were intent on his own.
“OK, compromise.” As Kevin started to protest, Mike held up his free hand. “I know, I know - but this way, you still have a voice and some self-respect in the morning, and I still get off. Win/win, right?” Kevin was already so turned on, he could only really manage a nod.
“What is this compromise?” he managed eventually.
Mike grinned, not relaxing the grip he had on Kevin’s hair for a moment. “Wrap your hand around my dick,” he ordered, and Kevin did so unquestioningly. “Now, kiss your hand,” he ordered, and Kevin actually shivered with lust, wrapping his lips around Mike’s cock and sliding down until his lips met his own hand. Mike moaned, clearly trying very hard not to buck up into his own hand. Kevin, emboldened by his success, sucked delicately on Mike’s dick, then pulled back and flicked his tongue over the head. Mike shuddered, and Kevin grinned. This was awesome. Slowly, carefully, he slid his hands up Mike’s cock.
“Fuck,” Mike groaned, one hand fisting in the sheets, the other hand tightening in Kevin’s hair. “Shit, kid, this - your - ” Kevin hummed his agreement, then had to pull back sharply as Mike’s hips bucked, shoving his dick deeper into Kevin’s mouth than expected. “Shit, shit, sorry!” he managed, then, “I’m - I’m - ” then he was coming. Kevin caught half a mouthful of the stuff and pulled off, taking the rest across one cheek and pulling a face. Mike looked genuinely sheepish. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-” he stopped. “You can spit, if you like. The sheets could use a wash anyway.”
Kevin felt a little sheepish, but did it anyway - it really didn’t taste that great. He dithered a little, then Mike was beckoning him back up the bed, and Kevin crawled somewhat awkwardly up the bed until he could curl up under Mike’s chin. He might have been hard, but he was pretty sure the evening was over - until he felt Mike’s hand slide down the front of the tracksuit trousers he’d been manoeuvred into earlier that night. He squeaked embarrassingly, and Mike chuckled against his ear.
“Oh, for the refractory period of a twenty-one year old,” he said teasingly, and slid his (somewhat sweaty) hand up Kevin’s dick - once, twice, then down, cupping his balls before he slid back up Kevin’s dick and rubbed his thumb gently over the slit. That was all it took, and Kevin was coming again with a muffled groan, feeling strung out and weak, but markedly less pent-up and desperate than he had been feeling for the past week. It was strangely liberating.
Once he had recovered a little, he curled somewhat tentatively around Mike, and Mike slid a strangely protective arm around his shoulders. That, and the fantastic sex, was all it took for Kevin to slip over into sleep. Mike grinned, wrapped himself around his dozing bed partner and fell asleep himself.
Neither of them, of course, knew exactly what the next day would hold, but both of them had the sneaking suspicion that it would be awesome.
**
As it turned out, the next day brought Kevin his very own hangover. He made an inarticulate sound of misery and rolled over towards Mike for some comfort - only to find his side of the bed very definitely empty and the sheets cold. Immediately he sat up and regretted it as the room did a lazy waltz around him.
When things had steadied somewhat, he pushed himself out of bed and ignored the urge to go looking for Mike immediately, stumbling instead into the bathroom. He looked bad, he realised, face waxy and pale, hair everywhere. And his mouth tasted like something had died in it - he needed to sort shit out first. Hopefully Mike wouldn’t mind him using his toothpaste, he thought, smearing some hopefully onto his forefinger and rubbing at his teeth (and his tongue, God. He hadn’t even known it could turn that colour).
By the time Kevin appeared in the kitchen, he looked a little more decent, having scraped a wet hand through his hair and splashed water on his face. At least he didn’t look quite as much like death as he had before. Mike had made coffee, and was padding around in a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt that read ‘The Academy Is...’. Kevin couldn’t stop himself.
“‘The Academy Is...’ what?” he asked.
Mike jumped a little, but calmed himself. “Drunk, mostly,” he admitted, pushing a cup of coffee across the table to Kevin. Kevin sipped and looked around surreptitiously for sugar. “Also, me.”
“Just you? Doing what?”
Mike gave him a look. “There are others. It’s a band.”
Suddenly it made sense. “Ooh!” Kevin beamed. “Awesome!”
“Thanks. You want sugar?” Kevin could have kissed him. In fact, Kevin had kissed him, and maybe he should do it again - but maybe in the future, when Mike wasn’t looking quite so forbidding.
Mike could admit to himself that he was acting like the typical morning-after jackass, but things would have been so much easier if Kevin hadn’t looked so, well, debauched. His hair was in disarray, despite an obvious attempt at grooming it, his lips were kiss-red and there was a hickey just under his jaw, half-hidden by his hair. He had clearly dragged his own jeans back on and had pulled his T-shirt on, though he’d left his button-down God only knew where, and all in all, he presented a picture which made Mike want to march directly down to the police station and hand himself in.
He was a bad, bad man.
Kevin was grinning at him, though, and Mike couldn’t bring himself to be that much of a bastard, so he smiled back, handing him the jar of sugar. “So, sleep well?”
“Like a rock,” Kevin said cheerfully. In fact, he was just generally over-cheerful for the entire situation, and he was practically emanating I got LAID! vibes. “How ’bout you?”
Mike would have loved to be able to say that his conscience had kept him awake, but it had not. “Yeah, not bad,” he admitted. “So, you’ll be wanting to head back to your hotel, right?” Kevin’s face fell and Mike realised he might have sounded far too pointed, but before he could say anything to make it better, Kevin was already talking.
“Oh, um - yeah, of course, you’ve got stuff to do,” he said, backing away. “And like you say, I should get going, so, I’ll - um -”
Mike sighed. “Jesus, kid, at least have breakfast first,” he said, meaning every word of the invitation. He reached up to grab a frying pan out of a cupboard. “What kind of operation do you think I’m running here?”
“The kind where you’re a creepy old man preying on young innocents?” Kevin said sweetly, and Mike swung round so fast he almost hit him in the face with the pan. Kevin, damn him, was grinning unrepentantly, and Mike let himself sag back against the counter, cracking the first genuine smile of the day.
“Jesus, don’t do that,” he said firmly, and Kevin actually laughed. “Also, hey, you little bastard, I’m not old!”
“I know!” Kevin said quickly. “And I know you’re not creepy or any of the rest of that stuff, but even I can tell you’re kind of thinking that, and I’m not the brightest crayon in the drawer.” Mike considered this, nodded and moved on. “So how old are you anyway?” Kevin asked.
“Twenty four,” he said then added quickly, “which is not old!”
“I know,” Kevin nodded, still smiling a little. It was bizarrely cute, so Mike cleared his throat to distract himself and asked gruffly,
“How do you want your eggs?”
“Unfertilised!” Kevin chirped and Mike opened his mouth, then shut it again.
“Too late,” he said finally. “Sunnyside up it is.”
**
Mike was a little worried by just how unawkward breakfast was. He’d had his fair share of fun-time, no-strings one-night-stands, and he’d equally done his fair share of sneaking out before the other guy woke up, just so as to avoid embarrassingly stilted morning conversations over cereal. They weren’t supposed to go like this - for a drunk, barroom pick up, Kevin was probably one of the nicer guys Mike had spent time with recently.
Right now, that pretty much included his entire band.
So when Kevin was fed, showered, reunited with his belongings and hovering awkwardly by the door, Mike was strangely reluctant to let him go just like that. “I’ll, er, see you out,” he offered and Kevin beamed, reaching out before Mike could dodge and all-but cuddling him and pecking him on the cheek. Mike hugged him back, and pulled away gently, searching around for a pen and paper. “Look, I’ll just give you my number,” he said awkwardly, scribbling it down on a torn take-out menu. “If you wanna talk about anything - seriously, um, anything -I’m, er. Yeah.” He gave an awkward little wave then wanted to kill himself, but Kevin took the number with a look on his face like it was the Holy Grail.
“Thanks,” he said reverently, tucking it into his wallet, and Mike nodded.
“No problem?” he offered, and Kevin grinned - and Mike’s willpower was demonstrably not that strong, so it really wasn’t a shock that he leant forward and kissed him.
Kevin both blushed and beamed, and Mike followed him down to street level with a small smile of his own.
**
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