FIC: Kink bingo
Apr. 16th, 2010 09:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cjmarloweSo I actually managed to snag a second kink bingo card back when they were handing out a few extras they had made, and then never did anything with it. That seemed like a real shame, so I decided to try to do a little bingo with it before amnesty ran out. Late one night (or early one morning, depending on how you look at it) I gathered some prompt suggestions from a few friends (names withheld to protect the pervy) and started to write. All five are AI/Kris Allen RPF, wherein Kris mostly gets his top on.
Babydoll
Kris/Katy. NC-17. 1768 words. Contains: ageplay, thumbsucking, spanking, fingering, mirrors.
Kris gets home to an empty living room, lights on but no one around. "Hello?" he says, dumps his messenger bag over a chair and his sunglasses on the table and drinks some water straight from the tap while he waits for a response.
The apartment doesn't have that empty feel to it so Kris figures Katy's probably in the bathroom, maybe the bedroom.
"Katy?" he says, a little more softly in case she's sleeping, and wipes his mouth on his wrist before poking his head into the bedroom.
The light's on there too, so she's not sleeping. Instead she's standing by the window in a babydoll nightie and matching panties, hair up in pigtails and no makeup except for a thick layer of pink cherry lipgloss. As he watches her she leans against the wall and turns her bare feet inward a little and slides her thumb into her mouth.
Kris is glad he isn't holding anything because it would've been all over the floor as soon as he saw that. "Holy shit," he says.
Katy pops her thumb out of her mouth only long enough to say, "That was a bad word," then shuffles across the room in Kris's direction, head bowed a little like she's shy, wrapping one arm around herself when she gets close. Kris reaches out and runs a finger along her bare forearm but doesn't try anything with her, not yet.
He just swallows hard and begins to unbutton his shirt, fumbling the last one for so long that he finally just gives his shirt a good yank and pops it off. When his shirt's off Katy pops her thumb out of her mouth again, reaches for Kris's hand and contemplates his for a moment before sliding it into her mouth, sucking gently.
It's almost like Kris can't breathe for a moment.
Katy finally looks up and meets his eyes as she sucks his thumb, holding his hand in both of her own now, nightgown flowing just down to her hips and drifting out a little as the air conditioning comes on and it catches a breeze. Kris finally leans forward and kisses her forehead and Katy smiles around his thumb. She keeps sucking until Kris is painfully hard inside his jeans, but he doesn't do anything about it. He doesn't really trust himself to do anything appropriate about it.
Then, still holding Kris's hand between hers, poised just a few inches from her mouth, she says, "Do you have anything else I can suck on?" and pouts her cherry-glossed lips. Then she lets go of him and puts an index finger in her mouth and starts sucking on the tip of it while she waits.
"I...think we can find something," he says finally, clearing his throat awkwardly. What he really wants to do right now is pick her up, throw her onto the bed and rip those panties off her, but that's not how this game is played, and they're not there yet.
"Do you really think so?" she says, teeth sinking into her fingertip just lightly, and swaying back and forth as she waits.
Kris fumbles with his pants almost as much as he did with his shirt, but at least nothing is torn this time as he drops them to his ankles, his shorts quickly following. Katy is already smiling at him, and with her fingertip she's putting more lipgloss on.
"I think I'm going to like this," she says, dropping to her knees. "I think it's a little naughty."
"You like to be a naughty girl, don't you?" says Kris, twirling one of her pigtails around his finger.
"Just a little naughty," she says, and licks his cock like a lollipop. Kris lets out a faint moan and does his best to stay still for her, stay still like it's her first time. "Did you like that?"
"You can do that some more," he says. "It feels good like that."
"I bet I know a lot of ways to make it feel good," she says, licking it again. "Sometimes, when nobody's looking, I like to look at naughty pictures."
"I'd ask you to tell me about them," says Kris, "but I think your mouth is going to be busy soon."
"I wonder how much will fit?" she says, and starts sliding her mouth down over it. At first she makes like just a little bit will fit, and swirls her mouth over the head, then she fits a little more, then a little more, till she's sliding virtually his whole cock down her throat. Once she does, she lets it slide back out again and looks up at him, perfectly innocent. "Like that?"
He tugs on her pigtail, and she gives a little affected gasp and starts going down on him again, sliding him all the way right away this time, swallowing over the head and slowly bobbing over him, sliding him in and out, pressing her lips to his cock, her tongue. Making tiny little whimpery noises of pleasure like it's the best thing she's ever had.
Finally, when Kris is starting to go a little wild, she lets it slip out of her mouth again. "Was that a little naughty?"
"That was very naughty," says Kris.
"And what do you do with naughty little girls?"
"I put them over my knee," says Kris, grabbing hold of her pigtail again, and tugging just enough that she has to follow him to the bed, not enough to hurt. He sits down at the edge of it, and doesn't miss the brief but unmistakable look of anticipation on her face. "Go on."
She bents down over his knee and Kris takes the opportunity to look at her all over. He caresses her behind through her panties, then gives them a tug and slides them right down her legs.
"It's not right unless it's on your bare bottom," he says, and Katy gasps softly and kicks the panties off her ankles.
Kris's hand comes down on her ass hard enough to leave a warm, red mark in his wake. Katy gasps and squirms and Kris is about to ask if it's all right when she arches back up towards his hand and looks back over he shoulder with wet, parted lips and wide eyes and waits. Kris's breath catches and his hand comes down again, on a slightly different spot, warming it too. And then on the other cheek, changing it up. She bows her head again as he does, and she squirms in his lap but he can see she's getting wet. He can see the shine of it.
He can smell her, and he knows from experience what Katy smells like when she's hot.
He spanks her again and again, never too much, just enough to warm her skin, to leave red blotches on her ass and thighs, to turn her on like she turned him on as she stood there and sucked on his thumb.
And it's not as though Kris isn't enjoying this as well. His jeans are across the room now and he's so achingly hard, pressing up against her arm, against his own body, against anything that he can get any friction against while trying to maintain the posture that he is in control here, that he calls the shots.
He knows damn well that Katy is the one calling all the shots here.
Kris's hand comes down on her ass one last time one last time, hard and loud, then he's slipping his fingers between her legs and right up inside her in one smooth move. She's so wet, so slick, and she just arches back against him as he does.
"Oh!" she says, in her babygirl voice. "Is that part of my punishment?"
"Not if I do it right," says Kris, and twists his fingers and fucks her with them, sliding in and out of her tight cunt, so hot and slick and wet it's driving him even crazier than he was before but he keeps going, he keeps going as long as he can until finally he does what he's been wanting to do from the moment he first saw her standing there. One moment she's bent over his knee and the next he's sweeping almost everything off the dresser and bending her over it, his cock sliding right into her.
"Oh!" she says again, and Kris tries to run his hand through her hair but she grabs his wrist instead, pulls his thumb into her mouth and bites the tip of it a little wickedly. He can see the look on her face in the dresser mirror, next to a photo of them from college and on the other side of a bottle of perfume.
"You're going to be the death of me," he says, and she just sucks it into her mouth blissfully like she hadn't heard a word he said.
He's thrusting into her a little recklessly, but she's rocking right back against him, legs tight, mouth soft and warm.
"Oh, Katy," he murmurs, and he comes just like that, a wave sweeping him away. She gives him little shocked eyes again, but if she thinks Kris coming inside her is it she's in for another surprise. He slips a hand around her, two fingers sliding over her clit, and she's still so wet, so hot. She whimpers around his thumb and for just a moment her mouth falls open and she must have been right on the edge to come so fast.
He moves his hand against her a little longer as she rides it out, and when he pulls it out again she swaps it for his other and sucks his fingers clean.
"Naughty girl," he says, and breathes out a surprised chuckle, and then she's looking back over her shoulder and they're kissing for a long time.
Cupping one of her breasts is just an afterthought, hidden as they are by her babydoll top. But after she comes, after they're both leaning there panting, he brings his hand up, cupping her affectionately.
A few moments later he pulls out and steps away, takes her hand and finally leads her onto the bed so they can collapse there, side by side, legs tangled and kissing some more. Katy reaches for the nightstand and pops an actual red lollipop in her mouth, and as eyes flutter closed as she sucks on it, Kris feels a renewed spark in his groin.
He doesn't even know where this came from, but already he wants to do it all again.
Sweet Dreams
Kris/Andrew. NC-17. 1013 words. Contains: sleepy/unconscious sex, sexual dreams, open relationships.
It's a dream Kris has had before, though not very often and not since he was younger, physically aching for sex but emotionally unready to do it yet. There's a guy (it's not always a guy, sometimes it's a blonde girl, but tonight it's a guy), shirtless with a baseball cap and cargo shorts. Kris can't see his face, but he's never been able to. He's just a nameless, faceless object of desire. They're in the middle of a ball field on a hot summer day, but Kris isn't in uniform either, he's just in what he wore on stage last night, t-shirt and jeans and shoes with a tiny hole forming at one toe. Kris pokes at it as the guy slides his hands into his back pockets and smiles.
The dream shifts and they aren't in a ball field anymore, they're on a bluff over the ocean. Kris can feel the breeze on his face, ruffling his hair, and he can't hear the ocean but he can see waves coming up on shore. They aren't separated anymore either—they're pressed up close together and Kris can feel that the guy's turned on, and feel his kisses on Kris's cheek, his lips, his throat. He sighs happily and tilts his head back and feels the kisses start to trail down his—suddenly and mysteriously shirtless—body.
It shifts again and they're outside a tent, not a circus tent but a camping tent, one of the screened ones that you can eat in. The zipper is up and the tentflap is slapping against Kris's legs in the breeze until the guy drops to his knees and takes Kris into his mouth. The tentflap might still be hitting him, but Kris doesn't notice anymore. The tent could disappear completely and he wouldn't notice; in fact, maybe it has.
Kris reaches down to pull the hat off the guy's head but his fingers touch soft, clean hair instead and he begins to slowly emerge from the dream.
The air conditioner's gone out but someone's opened a window and there's a strong breeze blowing across the bed. The covers are off, rumbled and half fallen off the bed, and someone's between his legs with Kris's cock in his mouth. He's actually not a hundred percent certain who it is, because there are a few people it could be these days, but whichever one of them it is he's pretty happy to let them continue.
"Yes," he murmurs, and whoever it is doesn't seem surprised to hear his voice so Kris guesses he'd been mumbling a little in his sleep. It takes him a few more moments to recognize who's in bed with him, because everyone Kris has been with is different. Katy knows his body best, is slow and gentle and patient with him, never rushing. Adam is experienced, he's sure of himself, everything he does is designed to get Kris off. Cale is fun and he doesn't stress out about any of it, and somehow before the end they almost always end up laughing. And Andrew is new, he's still learning Kris's body, he's still trying new things, sometimes even things Kris has never done before.
Kris can't make out more than a blur in the darkness, but this is definitely Andrew.
"Yes, that," Kris says as Andrew tentatively laps at his balls, shivering as Andrew leaves wet trails on them with his tongue. He gets a little more confident with each one, until he burrows in between Kris's legs a little further and takes one of them into his mouth, warm and wet, and sucks gently on it. Kris wants to swear but he bites his tongue instead, and Andrew moves on to the other.
He's still sort of in that weird state between dreaming and waking, not entirely in control of his body but aware of what's going on around him. His hand is still in Andrew's hair but he can't seem to move it over to his own cock. But then maybe that's for the best, because when Andrew moves back up again and sucks and tongues at the head in a way that's just a little bit different from everyone else, it's just about the best thing ever.
Kris is aware that he's close to coming as Andrew takes him deeper, as he rolls Kris's balls in one strong hand and grips his hip with the other, but all he can do is let it happen. And with eyes that are barely half open, watch as Andrew shivers a little then swallows it all.
It's only afterwards that Kris realizes he's a little dizzy, that he forgot to breath for a few moments and his body starved itself of oxygen as it focused entirely on the orgasm that physically shook him. He sucks in a couple of deep, harsh breaths, and closes his eyes for a few moments as his body resettles itself.
When he opens them again, Andrew is looking up a little sheepishly and wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb. "Good morning?" he offers, though it's still dark out and the sun probably isn't even contemplating rising yet.
Kris just smiles and urges Andrew up the bed to join him, shifting onto his side so that he can wrap an arm around him. Andrew is wearing striped pajamas and Kris finds that so endearing he can't help kissing the end of his nose before he gives him a real, proper kiss.
"I need more sleep," he murmurs, pressing his face to the hollow of Andrew's throat, "and so do you. I'll return the favor when it's actually morning. I'll even open the curtains so we can do it in a sunbeam."
"You're too good to me," says Andrew, but Kris is already beginning to drift off again. He's pretty sure he feels a kiss to his temple and he thinks he feels a kiss to the top of the head, but the one thing he's absolutely sure of is that he's safe and blessed and loved.
Winding Down
Kris/Cale. NC-17. 820 words. Contains: humiliation (in private), facial, clothed orgasm.
Kris waits until he hears the swingbar tap into place on the hotel room door before he says anything. Actually, he waits a little bit longer because he knows Cale is waiting for him to say something and he likes giving him that moment of nervous anticipation.
"You can take my clothes off now," he says finally, setting his guitar on the floor by the wall.
He doesn’t have to tell him how, he just stretches his arms out and lets Cale unbutton his shirt from behind, pulling it off and laying it over the chair. He doesn't step out of his pants until Cale is kneeling on the floor, bent over at his feet, then he lifts them just enough for Cale to slide the rest of his clothes off. He doesn't say anything as he turns around and sits down on the edge of the bed, testing the springiness of it before leaning back on his hands and looking at the way Cale is still kneeling in front of him.
Kris is half hard, sort of lazily hard, knowing that orgasm is coming and knowing that he doesn't have to do a whole lot to get there. He doesn't have to work for it, he just has to let things unfold the way they always do.
"Leave yours on," he says. "For now. You'll take too long and I can't be bothered."
Cale doesn't so much as untuck his shirt once Kris has made his decision, wiping his palms on his thighs, then reaching for Kris's. He looks up at Kris's eyes and Kris just nods, knowing Cale doesn't need any more encouragement than that and, what's more, knowing Cale likes it better this way. He kisses Kris's knees, his thighs, lavishes attention on every bit of skin between his legs before he reaches Kris's cock, which by this time is a lot more than half hard.
He grips a handful of Cale's hair and gives it a tug, not painfully, just enough so that Cale knows he's there, knows he's paying attention to everything. So that Cale knows Kris is watching him on his knees, watching him get ready to suck him off.
Kris even understands, more or less. Cale needs to feel a little guilty and dirty to get off, and needs to have someone else take responsibility for it to feel okay about that afterwards.
"No hands," he says. "You're already a mess. Might as well get you messier."
Cale clasps his hands behind his back and leans forward again, just his face between Kris's thighs, licking at his cock, rubbing it against his cheek, against his throat. Letting smears of his own saliva and Kris's pre-come streak his face as he takes Kris's cock into his mouth and lets it slip out, again and again.
He's a mess already when he presses his face up against the crease between Kris's leg and his torso, licks along it and then nuzzles his balls. He sucks on them, too, for a little while before Kris tugs on his hair again, harder this time, and Cale takes his cock back into his mouth.
This time it's no game, this time Cale just swallows him down, sucking in harsh breaths through his nose as he does. Kris isn't rough with him, it's not like that, but he doesn't hesitate to let Cale do it, and doesn't hesitate to thrust into his throat when he knows Cale is ready.
But he doesn't come like that.
When he's right on the cusp he tugs on Cale's hair again, tugs him right off, and jerks his own cock a couple of times before he's coming all over Cale's face.
He slows down then, smears come-sticky fingers on Cale's shirt, then leans back and waits.
Cale licks him clean but leaves his own face streaked with come as he rocks back on his heels and looks up at Kris, still sitting comfortably on the edge of the bed.
"Go ahead," says Kris, giving a careless nod at Cale's cock, hard and straining against the zipper of his jeans. "Finish yourself off if you need to." Cale goes to undo it, but Kris shakes his head. "No. In your pants."
Cale shivers at the instruction, then cups himself through his pants and rubs hard with his whole palm until he gasps and pitches forward, grasping Kris's knee to steady himself, and a dark stain starts to appear.
Cale exhales then, a loud, shaky sigh, and it's over.
Cale only wipes his eyes clean before he climbs onto the bed, disheveled and damp clothing and all, and tugs Kris down with him so they can wrap their arms around each other. In about twenty minutes he'll get up, relaxed and happy, take his dirty clothes off and wash up and get back into bed, but until then Kris just holds him, and everything's good.
Watch
Kris/Adam. NC-17. 1313 words. Contains: mirrors, mild domination, power switch
It's kind of fun doing it in someone else's bedroom, some friend of Adam's Kris doesn't even know, even if it means careful cleanup afterwards because Kris is incapable of lying about it and they have to make sure they're never asked. It's even more exciting than having sex on vacation, that little thrill of the unfamiliar magnified because it's not a cold and predictable hotel room. Not that having sex with Adam at all isn't still often an adventure in the unfamiliar, for both of them.
Kris is on top, riding him awkwardly, a completely new position for him. He sort of feels like he can't catch his breath even though he's breathing deep and hard because his heart is pounding and his hands are trembling and he doesn't know what to do with the feeling of being so filled up by someone.
It's just when he's finding a rhythm, figuring out how to use his knees and thighs to move himself right, that he sees something out of the corner of his eye and realizes the full length mirror next to the bed is reflecting his arm as it flails out next to him.
"I can see myself," he breathes, and he almost stops moving as he feels the revelation deep in his gut.
Kris thinks he was incredibly turned on before but it's nothing compared to the surge he feels when he spots them in the mirror. "No, don't stop!" he says when Adam moves like he's going to try to slide them over into a position where Kris won't be able to see anymore. "Adam!"
"I thought you'd be more comfortable—"
Kris grabs hold of Adam's body so hard it's bound to leave a mark, determined that Adam get it. Kris is the one who rolls them, but only so that they're square in front of the mirror, so he's looking at them upside down and Adam is on top of him facing the mirror, able to watch his every thrust as Kris's legs fly up around him.
"Kris...?"
"Don't you stop," says Kris, trapping Adam with his legs. "Watch us. Watch the way you're inside me."
"Bossy," says Adam, but he has no idea how bossy Kris can be right now if it means getting what he wants. Adam looks down, though, and without even thinking about it, Kris catches Adam's jaw in his hand and pushes Adam's chin up so he has to look, so he has to see what Kris is seeing. Adam seems momentarily shocked by the action, then Kris feels a shiver go through him and he thinks maybe Adam is feeling the gut-deep revelation Kris felt a few moments ago.
Only maybe over an entirely different act.
So Kris holds him there, maintains his grip on Adam's jaw as Adam starts thrusting into him harder. And when he shifts his grip a little to force two fingers into Adam's mouth, Adam sucks on them like his life depends on it.
Kris watches it all in the mirror, the way Adam disappears inside his body, the way Adam is sucking blissfully on him, the way sweat is beading at his own hairline, the marks on both of their bodies, fingers and mouths and other body parts tangling as they made out for hours before they got to this point.
It's not a surprise when he comes, but the force of it is, almost physically rocking him as it hits. Kris's eyes close for the first time since they changed position, and he realizes that he's barely even been blinking.
Adam pulls out when Kris starts squirming, strips the condom off and puts his hand right back on his cock. "No, come here," says Kris, tugging on the back's of Adam's thighs, and it's a complicated maneuvering—further complicated by the fact that they can't keep their hands off each other—until Adam's actually standing by the bed, looking himself square in the eye with Kris right behind him.
"Look at you," says Kris. "Look at yourself. That's so hot. I can't even tell you how hot that is." He struggles to be more eloquent about it but he can't, he doesn't have the words for this. "Look."
Adam looks, and Kris runs his hands over Adam's chest, tweaking his nipples, scratching his skin, sinking his fingers into Adam's sides. Adam looks and Kris watches him look.
"Jerk off for me," says Kris. "I know you're close."
Adam doesn't even hesitate, not really, only pauses to meet Kris's eyes in the mirror before he starts touching himself. Kris moves his hands away but Adam stays right where he is, so close to the mirror he can only just barely see his entire reflection. He reaches out to the mirror once, touches his own fingertips in it like he's watching someone else.
Kris returns the bed without ever looking away from the mirror, and lounges back at an angle where he can still see their reflection. He gets a hand between his own legs just to cup his balls and rolls them a little in one palm. He's not fully aroused, not yet, but he can't help being turned on by watching Adam watch himself in the mirror.
He's not even sure Adam realizes he's watching anymore, except that even with his eyes closed, Adam's putting on a show, scratching at his nipples and twisting his wrist on his cock as he slowly strokes it.
"Watch yourself," says Kris. "Open your eyes. Watch."
Adam obeys, blinking his eyes open, first meeting Kris's gaze again and then looking up and down his own body, at his hard cock straining up towards his abdomen, at the teeth marks and scratch marks on his body, at the way his legs are trembling slightly.
"I want to watch you watch yourself get off."
He's only moments from it and they both know it, and Adam sinks his teeth into his lower lip as his hand moves like a blur over his cock, jerking hard and fast until he gasps and comes, not all over himself but all over the mirror. He's shaky as hell but his eyes are still open, and he looks almost shocked at the intensity of it all. Kris is a little shaken by it too, to an extent that maybe he won't even realize till afterwards.
Adam drops to his knees after he comes, bowing his head and wiping his hand on the carpet and struggling for a moment to catch his breath.
Kris pushes on Adam's shoulder with his toes and Adam tips forward, bracing himself with both hands on the face of the mirror. He meets Kris's eyes in their reflection and waits.
"Go on," says Kris, nudging his shoulder again. He watches as Adam's tongue darts out, as his breath fogs up the glass, as he licks up some of the come streaking it. "All of it."
He says the last in a whisper, so quietly he's not even sure if Adam hears it, but either way Adam cleans it all up, the mirror streaked in all directions from his tongue afterwards. He kisses right in the center of it, leaving a perfect set of lip prints, then turns his head to look at Kris.
Kris's lips are parted as he looks at the bit of come still on Adam's lower lip, then he grabs him and pulls him back onto the bed with him, kissing him fiercely.
"I think that was the hottest thing we've ever done," he says, "and we've done a lot of hot things."
"I think I like it when you take charge," says Adam, "once in a while."
"Once in a while," says Kris with a wry little twist to his lips, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with that condition, and is already thinking about the next time.
Electric Feel
Kris/Jim Cantiello. NC-17. 1618 words. Contains: hand fetish, blindfolds, infidelity
They're supposed to be going to his next interview but first there's a problem with the car, then there's a problem with the schedule, and they end up hanging around a lot longer than expected. It's not that nobody's watching Kris or cares what he's doing, it's that he's an adult and capable of wandering off to find the bathroom by himself, so it's pretty easy to find an intern who recognizes him and ask to be shown where Jim Cantiello's office is (which Kris has been in before but doesn't necessarily know how to find his way to).
The door's open but Kris knocks anyway, and Jim could've been anywhere in the building, or even at lunch, but he's there at his desk reviewing footage.
"I thought you did that in the editing room," Kris says when Jim looks up, and Jim immediately switches off the monitor.
"Kris?" he says. "I thought you left half an hour ago."
"There's, I don't know, complications," he says. He does know actually, because he makes it a point to know, but he just doesn't think it's important enough to get into. "We're stranded for a bit."
"Well, come on in then," says Jim, and Kris does, reaching right past him to turn the monitor back on again. He's on the screen but it's not the interview from today, it's actually footage of Ain't No Sunshine from the tour. "Make yourself at home."
Kris looks at the screen, then at Jim, then at the screen again. The camera work is shaky as it zooms in on him, first on his whole body, then just to the keyboard, just to his hands.
"Feeling nostalgic?"
Jim is quiet for a moment though instead of coming back with something right away. "You have a great hands," he says finally. "I like watching you play while I work." As lightly as he tries to say it, though, it doesn't come out casually. Jim sounds his most unnatural when he's trying not to sound excited.
Kris isn't sure 'work' is really the word Jim was going for there. He closes the door.
"Tell me about them," he says, holding his hands out in front of himself, studying them like they belong to someone else.
"What can I tell you?" says Jim, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, his words halting and awkward. "You always know exactly what to do with them, with a piano or a guitar or a mic, and everyone knows that Kris Allen gives good hug. They're strong and smooth and...perfect."
"They're not perfect," says Kris. When he looks he sees a map of creases and callouses, and a cut on his index finger he made just that morning with a plastic knife trying to put jelly on toast while in a moving vehicle.
He shows it to Jim. Jim takes his hand and kisses the cut better.
"Wow," says Jim a moment later. "That was so inappropriate."
"Not really any more inappropriate than me asking you to talk about them in the first place," says Kris. There's a scar on his middle finger, just a tiny one from his bike chain when he was a kid. He shows it to Jim and says, "What about this one?"
Jim hesitates only a moment before kissing it too, and when Kris doesn't flinch away he flicks his tongue along the seam of the scar. It's only as inappropriate as they make it. Kris shows him a mark on the heel of his hand, scraped up on playground concrete almost twenty years ago. Jim licks it too, then takes both of Kris's hands in his and sucks his calloused fingertips one after the other.
"I think that about covers it," murmurs Kris, feeling a warm tingling all the way through him. Jim even has his eyes closed for a moment, his mouth red and wet like he's just been sucking on something other than fingertips. He's only been kissing Kris's hands, but he looks as debauched as if they'd been doing much more.
"What about the one on your left palm?" says Jim, and Kris is surprised he even noticed it. It's almost invisible even to him these days, who's lived with it his entire adult life. He opens his palm and lets Jim kiss it too.
"You know them pretty well," he says, "but would you know them just by touch?"
"What do you mean?" says Jim, but Kris is already looking for something in his cluttered office and finally wraps an Idols Live souvenir scarf around his eyes, knotting it tightly in the back. After that, he doesn't feel like he needs to spell it out.
Jim looks like he wants to reach up and tug at the scarf, but he just lets his hands twitch in his lap and manages to resist. Kris runs his fingertips over Jim's face first, just lightly skimming the surface, rough fingertips sometimes catching on the bits of stubble at Jim's jawline. When one of them runs over Jim's lips, his tongue flicks out to lick at it again.
"Left index," he murmurs, and it sends a little extra shiver through Kris's body that he's right.
He runs his hands down over Jim's t-shirt, then pushes it up just enough that he can run his fingertips over the soft, bare flesh of his abdomen. He dips his thumb into Jim's navel, and doesn't expect it's hard for Jim to identify that, but he does whisper "right hand" and that, too, makes Kris shiver a little.
Mostly what Kris notices is that Jim is hard in his pants, and not just a little bit but visibly straining against them.
Kris hesitates a moment before going further, because there's a line here and he's about to cross it, but then he just slips a hand inside Jim's pants and it's done. The line is crossed and Kris exhales softly and he feels okay about it.
Jim's jeans are loose enough at the waist that Kris doesn't have any trouble wrapping his hand around Jim's cock, and even though he's never really done anything like this before it's a pretty natural motion after that. Still, after a few moments he uses his other hand to unbutton his jeans so that just the head of Jim's cock is peeking out. Kris feels the sudden impulse to bend down and lick it but resists the urge, running his thumb over the head instead.
Jim is breathing hard and fast, hands gripping the arms of his chair, and Kris runs his free hand up under his shirt again, runs one finger down the center of Jim's chest. "Ring finger," Jim says, his voice harsh and strained, and Kris impulsively leans in to kiss his jaw as he continues to jerk him off.
A few moments later Kris pulls the scarf from Jim's eyes to use to catch and clean up when Jim comes, which he does as soon as he's unblindfolded and can see Kris's hand down his pants. For someone who seems to always be in motion, Jim is surprisingly still and quiet as he comes, stifling himself with a fist to his mouth and only jerking his hips a little bit.
"Got it," murmurs Kris, and not quite knowing what else to do with it he folds the scarf into a tidy bundle and puts it back where he found it. Jim can take care of it later.
Jim is quiet for a few moments, then pulls his fist away from his mouth and Kris can see teethmarks on his knuckles. "Etiquette says that I return the favor," he says, but Kris shakes his head.
"My phone vibrated halfway through," he says. "Someone's going to be looking for me soon." Then, because it feels weird to leave it at that, he adds, "Another time," and finds he actually kind of means it.
Jim looks like he doesn't quite know what to say, and Kris can't blame him. He doesn't really know what to say either, other than, "Well, that happened." So they just sort of look at one another and start to tentatively smile.
There's a knock at the office door that startles them both, but the scarf is back on the shelf and Jim looks composed and Kris doesn't feel any more disheveled than he usually looks.
"I won't tell anyone," he says before he opens it, but he thinks Jim already knows that. He's secure in the knowledge that Jim's not going to tell anyone either.
"I should've known I'd find you here," says Lizzie. "Answer your phone, Kristopher."
"What, now?" says Kris with a cheeky little grin, and she looks stern but he knows he'll be forgiven. "Sorry, we were just reviewing some old footage while I was stuck here." He motions at the monitor and sure enough he's still on the screen, one of his later performances this time, one of his own shows after the Idol tour.
"You have a phone for a reason," she says though, and gives Jim a nod over Kris's shoulder. Kris assumes that Jim nods back, or gives her some other sort of friendly acknowledgement. "Come on, car's waiting."
Kris looks back over his shoulder, gives Jim a wave, and is happy to see Jim smile and wave back. It feels like everything is okay, everything is normal. Or as normal as it can be after that, but Kris feels like maybe it was a long time coming, and it's not a bad thing.
"See you next time I'm in town," he says, and wonders as he follows Lizzie out if that sounded as suggestive as it felt.
Babydoll
Kris/Katy. NC-17. 1768 words. Contains: ageplay, thumbsucking, spanking, fingering, mirrors.
Kris gets home to an empty living room, lights on but no one around. "Hello?" he says, dumps his messenger bag over a chair and his sunglasses on the table and drinks some water straight from the tap while he waits for a response.
The apartment doesn't have that empty feel to it so Kris figures Katy's probably in the bathroom, maybe the bedroom.
"Katy?" he says, a little more softly in case she's sleeping, and wipes his mouth on his wrist before poking his head into the bedroom.
The light's on there too, so she's not sleeping. Instead she's standing by the window in a babydoll nightie and matching panties, hair up in pigtails and no makeup except for a thick layer of pink cherry lipgloss. As he watches her she leans against the wall and turns her bare feet inward a little and slides her thumb into her mouth.
Kris is glad he isn't holding anything because it would've been all over the floor as soon as he saw that. "Holy shit," he says.
Katy pops her thumb out of her mouth only long enough to say, "That was a bad word," then shuffles across the room in Kris's direction, head bowed a little like she's shy, wrapping one arm around herself when she gets close. Kris reaches out and runs a finger along her bare forearm but doesn't try anything with her, not yet.
He just swallows hard and begins to unbutton his shirt, fumbling the last one for so long that he finally just gives his shirt a good yank and pops it off. When his shirt's off Katy pops her thumb out of her mouth again, reaches for Kris's hand and contemplates his for a moment before sliding it into her mouth, sucking gently.
It's almost like Kris can't breathe for a moment.
Katy finally looks up and meets his eyes as she sucks his thumb, holding his hand in both of her own now, nightgown flowing just down to her hips and drifting out a little as the air conditioning comes on and it catches a breeze. Kris finally leans forward and kisses her forehead and Katy smiles around his thumb. She keeps sucking until Kris is painfully hard inside his jeans, but he doesn't do anything about it. He doesn't really trust himself to do anything appropriate about it.
Then, still holding Kris's hand between hers, poised just a few inches from her mouth, she says, "Do you have anything else I can suck on?" and pouts her cherry-glossed lips. Then she lets go of him and puts an index finger in her mouth and starts sucking on the tip of it while she waits.
"I...think we can find something," he says finally, clearing his throat awkwardly. What he really wants to do right now is pick her up, throw her onto the bed and rip those panties off her, but that's not how this game is played, and they're not there yet.
"Do you really think so?" she says, teeth sinking into her fingertip just lightly, and swaying back and forth as she waits.
Kris fumbles with his pants almost as much as he did with his shirt, but at least nothing is torn this time as he drops them to his ankles, his shorts quickly following. Katy is already smiling at him, and with her fingertip she's putting more lipgloss on.
"I think I'm going to like this," she says, dropping to her knees. "I think it's a little naughty."
"You like to be a naughty girl, don't you?" says Kris, twirling one of her pigtails around his finger.
"Just a little naughty," she says, and licks his cock like a lollipop. Kris lets out a faint moan and does his best to stay still for her, stay still like it's her first time. "Did you like that?"
"You can do that some more," he says. "It feels good like that."
"I bet I know a lot of ways to make it feel good," she says, licking it again. "Sometimes, when nobody's looking, I like to look at naughty pictures."
"I'd ask you to tell me about them," says Kris, "but I think your mouth is going to be busy soon."
"I wonder how much will fit?" she says, and starts sliding her mouth down over it. At first she makes like just a little bit will fit, and swirls her mouth over the head, then she fits a little more, then a little more, till she's sliding virtually his whole cock down her throat. Once she does, she lets it slide back out again and looks up at him, perfectly innocent. "Like that?"
He tugs on her pigtail, and she gives a little affected gasp and starts going down on him again, sliding him all the way right away this time, swallowing over the head and slowly bobbing over him, sliding him in and out, pressing her lips to his cock, her tongue. Making tiny little whimpery noises of pleasure like it's the best thing she's ever had.
Finally, when Kris is starting to go a little wild, she lets it slip out of her mouth again. "Was that a little naughty?"
"That was very naughty," says Kris.
"And what do you do with naughty little girls?"
"I put them over my knee," says Kris, grabbing hold of her pigtail again, and tugging just enough that she has to follow him to the bed, not enough to hurt. He sits down at the edge of it, and doesn't miss the brief but unmistakable look of anticipation on her face. "Go on."
She bents down over his knee and Kris takes the opportunity to look at her all over. He caresses her behind through her panties, then gives them a tug and slides them right down her legs.
"It's not right unless it's on your bare bottom," he says, and Katy gasps softly and kicks the panties off her ankles.
Kris's hand comes down on her ass hard enough to leave a warm, red mark in his wake. Katy gasps and squirms and Kris is about to ask if it's all right when she arches back up towards his hand and looks back over he shoulder with wet, parted lips and wide eyes and waits. Kris's breath catches and his hand comes down again, on a slightly different spot, warming it too. And then on the other cheek, changing it up. She bows her head again as he does, and she squirms in his lap but he can see she's getting wet. He can see the shine of it.
He can smell her, and he knows from experience what Katy smells like when she's hot.
He spanks her again and again, never too much, just enough to warm her skin, to leave red blotches on her ass and thighs, to turn her on like she turned him on as she stood there and sucked on his thumb.
And it's not as though Kris isn't enjoying this as well. His jeans are across the room now and he's so achingly hard, pressing up against her arm, against his own body, against anything that he can get any friction against while trying to maintain the posture that he is in control here, that he calls the shots.
He knows damn well that Katy is the one calling all the shots here.
Kris's hand comes down on her ass one last time one last time, hard and loud, then he's slipping his fingers between her legs and right up inside her in one smooth move. She's so wet, so slick, and she just arches back against him as he does.
"Oh!" she says, in her babygirl voice. "Is that part of my punishment?"
"Not if I do it right," says Kris, and twists his fingers and fucks her with them, sliding in and out of her tight cunt, so hot and slick and wet it's driving him even crazier than he was before but he keeps going, he keeps going as long as he can until finally he does what he's been wanting to do from the moment he first saw her standing there. One moment she's bent over his knee and the next he's sweeping almost everything off the dresser and bending her over it, his cock sliding right into her.
"Oh!" she says again, and Kris tries to run his hand through her hair but she grabs his wrist instead, pulls his thumb into her mouth and bites the tip of it a little wickedly. He can see the look on her face in the dresser mirror, next to a photo of them from college and on the other side of a bottle of perfume.
"You're going to be the death of me," he says, and she just sucks it into her mouth blissfully like she hadn't heard a word he said.
He's thrusting into her a little recklessly, but she's rocking right back against him, legs tight, mouth soft and warm.
"Oh, Katy," he murmurs, and he comes just like that, a wave sweeping him away. She gives him little shocked eyes again, but if she thinks Kris coming inside her is it she's in for another surprise. He slips a hand around her, two fingers sliding over her clit, and she's still so wet, so hot. She whimpers around his thumb and for just a moment her mouth falls open and she must have been right on the edge to come so fast.
He moves his hand against her a little longer as she rides it out, and when he pulls it out again she swaps it for his other and sucks his fingers clean.
"Naughty girl," he says, and breathes out a surprised chuckle, and then she's looking back over her shoulder and they're kissing for a long time.
Cupping one of her breasts is just an afterthought, hidden as they are by her babydoll top. But after she comes, after they're both leaning there panting, he brings his hand up, cupping her affectionately.
A few moments later he pulls out and steps away, takes her hand and finally leads her onto the bed so they can collapse there, side by side, legs tangled and kissing some more. Katy reaches for the nightstand and pops an actual red lollipop in her mouth, and as eyes flutter closed as she sucks on it, Kris feels a renewed spark in his groin.
He doesn't even know where this came from, but already he wants to do it all again.
Sweet Dreams
Kris/Andrew. NC-17. 1013 words. Contains: sleepy/unconscious sex, sexual dreams, open relationships.
It's a dream Kris has had before, though not very often and not since he was younger, physically aching for sex but emotionally unready to do it yet. There's a guy (it's not always a guy, sometimes it's a blonde girl, but tonight it's a guy), shirtless with a baseball cap and cargo shorts. Kris can't see his face, but he's never been able to. He's just a nameless, faceless object of desire. They're in the middle of a ball field on a hot summer day, but Kris isn't in uniform either, he's just in what he wore on stage last night, t-shirt and jeans and shoes with a tiny hole forming at one toe. Kris pokes at it as the guy slides his hands into his back pockets and smiles.
The dream shifts and they aren't in a ball field anymore, they're on a bluff over the ocean. Kris can feel the breeze on his face, ruffling his hair, and he can't hear the ocean but he can see waves coming up on shore. They aren't separated anymore either—they're pressed up close together and Kris can feel that the guy's turned on, and feel his kisses on Kris's cheek, his lips, his throat. He sighs happily and tilts his head back and feels the kisses start to trail down his—suddenly and mysteriously shirtless—body.
It shifts again and they're outside a tent, not a circus tent but a camping tent, one of the screened ones that you can eat in. The zipper is up and the tentflap is slapping against Kris's legs in the breeze until the guy drops to his knees and takes Kris into his mouth. The tentflap might still be hitting him, but Kris doesn't notice anymore. The tent could disappear completely and he wouldn't notice; in fact, maybe it has.
Kris reaches down to pull the hat off the guy's head but his fingers touch soft, clean hair instead and he begins to slowly emerge from the dream.
The air conditioner's gone out but someone's opened a window and there's a strong breeze blowing across the bed. The covers are off, rumbled and half fallen off the bed, and someone's between his legs with Kris's cock in his mouth. He's actually not a hundred percent certain who it is, because there are a few people it could be these days, but whichever one of them it is he's pretty happy to let them continue.
"Yes," he murmurs, and whoever it is doesn't seem surprised to hear his voice so Kris guesses he'd been mumbling a little in his sleep. It takes him a few more moments to recognize who's in bed with him, because everyone Kris has been with is different. Katy knows his body best, is slow and gentle and patient with him, never rushing. Adam is experienced, he's sure of himself, everything he does is designed to get Kris off. Cale is fun and he doesn't stress out about any of it, and somehow before the end they almost always end up laughing. And Andrew is new, he's still learning Kris's body, he's still trying new things, sometimes even things Kris has never done before.
Kris can't make out more than a blur in the darkness, but this is definitely Andrew.
"Yes, that," Kris says as Andrew tentatively laps at his balls, shivering as Andrew leaves wet trails on them with his tongue. He gets a little more confident with each one, until he burrows in between Kris's legs a little further and takes one of them into his mouth, warm and wet, and sucks gently on it. Kris wants to swear but he bites his tongue instead, and Andrew moves on to the other.
He's still sort of in that weird state between dreaming and waking, not entirely in control of his body but aware of what's going on around him. His hand is still in Andrew's hair but he can't seem to move it over to his own cock. But then maybe that's for the best, because when Andrew moves back up again and sucks and tongues at the head in a way that's just a little bit different from everyone else, it's just about the best thing ever.
Kris is aware that he's close to coming as Andrew takes him deeper, as he rolls Kris's balls in one strong hand and grips his hip with the other, but all he can do is let it happen. And with eyes that are barely half open, watch as Andrew shivers a little then swallows it all.
It's only afterwards that Kris realizes he's a little dizzy, that he forgot to breath for a few moments and his body starved itself of oxygen as it focused entirely on the orgasm that physically shook him. He sucks in a couple of deep, harsh breaths, and closes his eyes for a few moments as his body resettles itself.
When he opens them again, Andrew is looking up a little sheepishly and wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb. "Good morning?" he offers, though it's still dark out and the sun probably isn't even contemplating rising yet.
Kris just smiles and urges Andrew up the bed to join him, shifting onto his side so that he can wrap an arm around him. Andrew is wearing striped pajamas and Kris finds that so endearing he can't help kissing the end of his nose before he gives him a real, proper kiss.
"I need more sleep," he murmurs, pressing his face to the hollow of Andrew's throat, "and so do you. I'll return the favor when it's actually morning. I'll even open the curtains so we can do it in a sunbeam."
"You're too good to me," says Andrew, but Kris is already beginning to drift off again. He's pretty sure he feels a kiss to his temple and he thinks he feels a kiss to the top of the head, but the one thing he's absolutely sure of is that he's safe and blessed and loved.
Winding Down
Kris/Cale. NC-17. 820 words. Contains: humiliation (in private), facial, clothed orgasm.
Kris waits until he hears the swingbar tap into place on the hotel room door before he says anything. Actually, he waits a little bit longer because he knows Cale is waiting for him to say something and he likes giving him that moment of nervous anticipation.
"You can take my clothes off now," he says finally, setting his guitar on the floor by the wall.
He doesn’t have to tell him how, he just stretches his arms out and lets Cale unbutton his shirt from behind, pulling it off and laying it over the chair. He doesn't step out of his pants until Cale is kneeling on the floor, bent over at his feet, then he lifts them just enough for Cale to slide the rest of his clothes off. He doesn't say anything as he turns around and sits down on the edge of the bed, testing the springiness of it before leaning back on his hands and looking at the way Cale is still kneeling in front of him.
Kris is half hard, sort of lazily hard, knowing that orgasm is coming and knowing that he doesn't have to do a whole lot to get there. He doesn't have to work for it, he just has to let things unfold the way they always do.
"Leave yours on," he says. "For now. You'll take too long and I can't be bothered."
Cale doesn't so much as untuck his shirt once Kris has made his decision, wiping his palms on his thighs, then reaching for Kris's. He looks up at Kris's eyes and Kris just nods, knowing Cale doesn't need any more encouragement than that and, what's more, knowing Cale likes it better this way. He kisses Kris's knees, his thighs, lavishes attention on every bit of skin between his legs before he reaches Kris's cock, which by this time is a lot more than half hard.
He grips a handful of Cale's hair and gives it a tug, not painfully, just enough so that Cale knows he's there, knows he's paying attention to everything. So that Cale knows Kris is watching him on his knees, watching him get ready to suck him off.
Kris even understands, more or less. Cale needs to feel a little guilty and dirty to get off, and needs to have someone else take responsibility for it to feel okay about that afterwards.
"No hands," he says. "You're already a mess. Might as well get you messier."
Cale clasps his hands behind his back and leans forward again, just his face between Kris's thighs, licking at his cock, rubbing it against his cheek, against his throat. Letting smears of his own saliva and Kris's pre-come streak his face as he takes Kris's cock into his mouth and lets it slip out, again and again.
He's a mess already when he presses his face up against the crease between Kris's leg and his torso, licks along it and then nuzzles his balls. He sucks on them, too, for a little while before Kris tugs on his hair again, harder this time, and Cale takes his cock back into his mouth.
This time it's no game, this time Cale just swallows him down, sucking in harsh breaths through his nose as he does. Kris isn't rough with him, it's not like that, but he doesn't hesitate to let Cale do it, and doesn't hesitate to thrust into his throat when he knows Cale is ready.
But he doesn't come like that.
When he's right on the cusp he tugs on Cale's hair again, tugs him right off, and jerks his own cock a couple of times before he's coming all over Cale's face.
He slows down then, smears come-sticky fingers on Cale's shirt, then leans back and waits.
Cale licks him clean but leaves his own face streaked with come as he rocks back on his heels and looks up at Kris, still sitting comfortably on the edge of the bed.
"Go ahead," says Kris, giving a careless nod at Cale's cock, hard and straining against the zipper of his jeans. "Finish yourself off if you need to." Cale goes to undo it, but Kris shakes his head. "No. In your pants."
Cale shivers at the instruction, then cups himself through his pants and rubs hard with his whole palm until he gasps and pitches forward, grasping Kris's knee to steady himself, and a dark stain starts to appear.
Cale exhales then, a loud, shaky sigh, and it's over.
Cale only wipes his eyes clean before he climbs onto the bed, disheveled and damp clothing and all, and tugs Kris down with him so they can wrap their arms around each other. In about twenty minutes he'll get up, relaxed and happy, take his dirty clothes off and wash up and get back into bed, but until then Kris just holds him, and everything's good.
Watch
Kris/Adam. NC-17. 1313 words. Contains: mirrors, mild domination, power switch
It's kind of fun doing it in someone else's bedroom, some friend of Adam's Kris doesn't even know, even if it means careful cleanup afterwards because Kris is incapable of lying about it and they have to make sure they're never asked. It's even more exciting than having sex on vacation, that little thrill of the unfamiliar magnified because it's not a cold and predictable hotel room. Not that having sex with Adam at all isn't still often an adventure in the unfamiliar, for both of them.
Kris is on top, riding him awkwardly, a completely new position for him. He sort of feels like he can't catch his breath even though he's breathing deep and hard because his heart is pounding and his hands are trembling and he doesn't know what to do with the feeling of being so filled up by someone.
It's just when he's finding a rhythm, figuring out how to use his knees and thighs to move himself right, that he sees something out of the corner of his eye and realizes the full length mirror next to the bed is reflecting his arm as it flails out next to him.
"I can see myself," he breathes, and he almost stops moving as he feels the revelation deep in his gut.
Kris thinks he was incredibly turned on before but it's nothing compared to the surge he feels when he spots them in the mirror. "No, don't stop!" he says when Adam moves like he's going to try to slide them over into a position where Kris won't be able to see anymore. "Adam!"
"I thought you'd be more comfortable—"
Kris grabs hold of Adam's body so hard it's bound to leave a mark, determined that Adam get it. Kris is the one who rolls them, but only so that they're square in front of the mirror, so he's looking at them upside down and Adam is on top of him facing the mirror, able to watch his every thrust as Kris's legs fly up around him.
"Kris...?"
"Don't you stop," says Kris, trapping Adam with his legs. "Watch us. Watch the way you're inside me."
"Bossy," says Adam, but he has no idea how bossy Kris can be right now if it means getting what he wants. Adam looks down, though, and without even thinking about it, Kris catches Adam's jaw in his hand and pushes Adam's chin up so he has to look, so he has to see what Kris is seeing. Adam seems momentarily shocked by the action, then Kris feels a shiver go through him and he thinks maybe Adam is feeling the gut-deep revelation Kris felt a few moments ago.
Only maybe over an entirely different act.
So Kris holds him there, maintains his grip on Adam's jaw as Adam starts thrusting into him harder. And when he shifts his grip a little to force two fingers into Adam's mouth, Adam sucks on them like his life depends on it.
Kris watches it all in the mirror, the way Adam disappears inside his body, the way Adam is sucking blissfully on him, the way sweat is beading at his own hairline, the marks on both of their bodies, fingers and mouths and other body parts tangling as they made out for hours before they got to this point.
It's not a surprise when he comes, but the force of it is, almost physically rocking him as it hits. Kris's eyes close for the first time since they changed position, and he realizes that he's barely even been blinking.
Adam pulls out when Kris starts squirming, strips the condom off and puts his hand right back on his cock. "No, come here," says Kris, tugging on the back's of Adam's thighs, and it's a complicated maneuvering—further complicated by the fact that they can't keep their hands off each other—until Adam's actually standing by the bed, looking himself square in the eye with Kris right behind him.
"Look at you," says Kris. "Look at yourself. That's so hot. I can't even tell you how hot that is." He struggles to be more eloquent about it but he can't, he doesn't have the words for this. "Look."
Adam looks, and Kris runs his hands over Adam's chest, tweaking his nipples, scratching his skin, sinking his fingers into Adam's sides. Adam looks and Kris watches him look.
"Jerk off for me," says Kris. "I know you're close."
Adam doesn't even hesitate, not really, only pauses to meet Kris's eyes in the mirror before he starts touching himself. Kris moves his hands away but Adam stays right where he is, so close to the mirror he can only just barely see his entire reflection. He reaches out to the mirror once, touches his own fingertips in it like he's watching someone else.
Kris returns the bed without ever looking away from the mirror, and lounges back at an angle where he can still see their reflection. He gets a hand between his own legs just to cup his balls and rolls them a little in one palm. He's not fully aroused, not yet, but he can't help being turned on by watching Adam watch himself in the mirror.
He's not even sure Adam realizes he's watching anymore, except that even with his eyes closed, Adam's putting on a show, scratching at his nipples and twisting his wrist on his cock as he slowly strokes it.
"Watch yourself," says Kris. "Open your eyes. Watch."
Adam obeys, blinking his eyes open, first meeting Kris's gaze again and then looking up and down his own body, at his hard cock straining up towards his abdomen, at the teeth marks and scratch marks on his body, at the way his legs are trembling slightly.
"I want to watch you watch yourself get off."
He's only moments from it and they both know it, and Adam sinks his teeth into his lower lip as his hand moves like a blur over his cock, jerking hard and fast until he gasps and comes, not all over himself but all over the mirror. He's shaky as hell but his eyes are still open, and he looks almost shocked at the intensity of it all. Kris is a little shaken by it too, to an extent that maybe he won't even realize till afterwards.
Adam drops to his knees after he comes, bowing his head and wiping his hand on the carpet and struggling for a moment to catch his breath.
Kris pushes on Adam's shoulder with his toes and Adam tips forward, bracing himself with both hands on the face of the mirror. He meets Kris's eyes in their reflection and waits.
"Go on," says Kris, nudging his shoulder again. He watches as Adam's tongue darts out, as his breath fogs up the glass, as he licks up some of the come streaking it. "All of it."
He says the last in a whisper, so quietly he's not even sure if Adam hears it, but either way Adam cleans it all up, the mirror streaked in all directions from his tongue afterwards. He kisses right in the center of it, leaving a perfect set of lip prints, then turns his head to look at Kris.
Kris's lips are parted as he looks at the bit of come still on Adam's lower lip, then he grabs him and pulls him back onto the bed with him, kissing him fiercely.
"I think that was the hottest thing we've ever done," he says, "and we've done a lot of hot things."
"I think I like it when you take charge," says Adam, "once in a while."
"Once in a while," says Kris with a wry little twist to his lips, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with that condition, and is already thinking about the next time.
Electric Feel
Kris/Jim Cantiello. NC-17. 1618 words. Contains: hand fetish, blindfolds, infidelity
They're supposed to be going to his next interview but first there's a problem with the car, then there's a problem with the schedule, and they end up hanging around a lot longer than expected. It's not that nobody's watching Kris or cares what he's doing, it's that he's an adult and capable of wandering off to find the bathroom by himself, so it's pretty easy to find an intern who recognizes him and ask to be shown where Jim Cantiello's office is (which Kris has been in before but doesn't necessarily know how to find his way to).
The door's open but Kris knocks anyway, and Jim could've been anywhere in the building, or even at lunch, but he's there at his desk reviewing footage.
"I thought you did that in the editing room," Kris says when Jim looks up, and Jim immediately switches off the monitor.
"Kris?" he says. "I thought you left half an hour ago."
"There's, I don't know, complications," he says. He does know actually, because he makes it a point to know, but he just doesn't think it's important enough to get into. "We're stranded for a bit."
"Well, come on in then," says Jim, and Kris does, reaching right past him to turn the monitor back on again. He's on the screen but it's not the interview from today, it's actually footage of Ain't No Sunshine from the tour. "Make yourself at home."
Kris looks at the screen, then at Jim, then at the screen again. The camera work is shaky as it zooms in on him, first on his whole body, then just to the keyboard, just to his hands.
"Feeling nostalgic?"
Jim is quiet for a moment though instead of coming back with something right away. "You have a great hands," he says finally. "I like watching you play while I work." As lightly as he tries to say it, though, it doesn't come out casually. Jim sounds his most unnatural when he's trying not to sound excited.
Kris isn't sure 'work' is really the word Jim was going for there. He closes the door.
"Tell me about them," he says, holding his hands out in front of himself, studying them like they belong to someone else.
"What can I tell you?" says Jim, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, his words halting and awkward. "You always know exactly what to do with them, with a piano or a guitar or a mic, and everyone knows that Kris Allen gives good hug. They're strong and smooth and...perfect."
"They're not perfect," says Kris. When he looks he sees a map of creases and callouses, and a cut on his index finger he made just that morning with a plastic knife trying to put jelly on toast while in a moving vehicle.
He shows it to Jim. Jim takes his hand and kisses the cut better.
"Wow," says Jim a moment later. "That was so inappropriate."
"Not really any more inappropriate than me asking you to talk about them in the first place," says Kris. There's a scar on his middle finger, just a tiny one from his bike chain when he was a kid. He shows it to Jim and says, "What about this one?"
Jim hesitates only a moment before kissing it too, and when Kris doesn't flinch away he flicks his tongue along the seam of the scar. It's only as inappropriate as they make it. Kris shows him a mark on the heel of his hand, scraped up on playground concrete almost twenty years ago. Jim licks it too, then takes both of Kris's hands in his and sucks his calloused fingertips one after the other.
"I think that about covers it," murmurs Kris, feeling a warm tingling all the way through him. Jim even has his eyes closed for a moment, his mouth red and wet like he's just been sucking on something other than fingertips. He's only been kissing Kris's hands, but he looks as debauched as if they'd been doing much more.
"What about the one on your left palm?" says Jim, and Kris is surprised he even noticed it. It's almost invisible even to him these days, who's lived with it his entire adult life. He opens his palm and lets Jim kiss it too.
"You know them pretty well," he says, "but would you know them just by touch?"
"What do you mean?" says Jim, but Kris is already looking for something in his cluttered office and finally wraps an Idols Live souvenir scarf around his eyes, knotting it tightly in the back. After that, he doesn't feel like he needs to spell it out.
Jim looks like he wants to reach up and tug at the scarf, but he just lets his hands twitch in his lap and manages to resist. Kris runs his fingertips over Jim's face first, just lightly skimming the surface, rough fingertips sometimes catching on the bits of stubble at Jim's jawline. When one of them runs over Jim's lips, his tongue flicks out to lick at it again.
"Left index," he murmurs, and it sends a little extra shiver through Kris's body that he's right.
He runs his hands down over Jim's t-shirt, then pushes it up just enough that he can run his fingertips over the soft, bare flesh of his abdomen. He dips his thumb into Jim's navel, and doesn't expect it's hard for Jim to identify that, but he does whisper "right hand" and that, too, makes Kris shiver a little.
Mostly what Kris notices is that Jim is hard in his pants, and not just a little bit but visibly straining against them.
Kris hesitates a moment before going further, because there's a line here and he's about to cross it, but then he just slips a hand inside Jim's pants and it's done. The line is crossed and Kris exhales softly and he feels okay about it.
Jim's jeans are loose enough at the waist that Kris doesn't have any trouble wrapping his hand around Jim's cock, and even though he's never really done anything like this before it's a pretty natural motion after that. Still, after a few moments he uses his other hand to unbutton his jeans so that just the head of Jim's cock is peeking out. Kris feels the sudden impulse to bend down and lick it but resists the urge, running his thumb over the head instead.
Jim is breathing hard and fast, hands gripping the arms of his chair, and Kris runs his free hand up under his shirt again, runs one finger down the center of Jim's chest. "Ring finger," Jim says, his voice harsh and strained, and Kris impulsively leans in to kiss his jaw as he continues to jerk him off.
A few moments later Kris pulls the scarf from Jim's eyes to use to catch and clean up when Jim comes, which he does as soon as he's unblindfolded and can see Kris's hand down his pants. For someone who seems to always be in motion, Jim is surprisingly still and quiet as he comes, stifling himself with a fist to his mouth and only jerking his hips a little bit.
"Got it," murmurs Kris, and not quite knowing what else to do with it he folds the scarf into a tidy bundle and puts it back where he found it. Jim can take care of it later.
Jim is quiet for a few moments, then pulls his fist away from his mouth and Kris can see teethmarks on his knuckles. "Etiquette says that I return the favor," he says, but Kris shakes his head.
"My phone vibrated halfway through," he says. "Someone's going to be looking for me soon." Then, because it feels weird to leave it at that, he adds, "Another time," and finds he actually kind of means it.
Jim looks like he doesn't quite know what to say, and Kris can't blame him. He doesn't really know what to say either, other than, "Well, that happened." So they just sort of look at one another and start to tentatively smile.
There's a knock at the office door that startles them both, but the scarf is back on the shelf and Jim looks composed and Kris doesn't feel any more disheveled than he usually looks.
"I won't tell anyone," he says before he opens it, but he thinks Jim already knows that. He's secure in the knowledge that Jim's not going to tell anyone either.
"I should've known I'd find you here," says Lizzie. "Answer your phone, Kristopher."
"What, now?" says Kris with a cheeky little grin, and she looks stern but he knows he'll be forgiven. "Sorry, we were just reviewing some old footage while I was stuck here." He motions at the monitor and sure enough he's still on the screen, one of his later performances this time, one of his own shows after the Idol tour.
"You have a phone for a reason," she says though, and gives Jim a nod over Kris's shoulder. Kris assumes that Jim nods back, or gives her some other sort of friendly acknowledgement. "Come on, car's waiting."
Kris looks back over his shoulder, gives Jim a wave, and is happy to see Jim smile and wave back. It feels like everything is okay, everything is normal. Or as normal as it can be after that, but Kris feels like maybe it was a long time coming, and it's not a bad thing.
"See you next time I'm in town," he says, and wonders as he follows Lizzie out if that sounded as suggestive as it felt.
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Date: 2010-04-17 02:28 am (UTC)*hugs and cuddles you*
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