ihearthings_ii (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ihearthings_ii) wrote2009-07-09 06:52 pm
ihearthings_ii) wrote2009-07-09 06:52 pm
Entry tags:
Serious
Written for the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
ontd_ai kink meme (round the second.)
The prompt was:
34. Adam/Kris, rimming. bb kris is reluctant at first but Adam shows him what he's been missing.
Title: Serious
Pairing: Kradam (KRAM)
Rating: nc-17
And it's not like he's squeamish or something. He's really, really not. He's had Adam's cock and come in his mouth, in his ass, all over his face, hands, belly--- pretty much everywhere, really, but the first time Adam carefully puts his mouth there, Kris's entire body stutters, and he flinches away.
Adam, who isn't blind or stupid, and who still, after four months of them doing this, is too cautious when it comes to sex, stops immediately. Adam never makes the first move and always lets Kris set the pace, and Kris is pretty sure that even though they've fucked more times than he can remember, Adam hasn't ever really let go, too afraid of hurting Kris, too afraid of doing something he might not like.
And rimming, apparently, is his limit. Adam runs his hands soothingly up his back, and presses a soft kiss to the swell of Kris's ass, but Kris feels self-conscious, all of a sudden, and he flops down on his back, pulling Adam along.
He flings an arm over his face, and the other around Adam's neck.
C'mon, c'mon, he says, and Adam proceeds to finger him until he's lost every word but please, and then fucks him until he's lost that one as well.
*
Kris is stuck to Adam when he wakes up. It's uncomfortable and stings a little when he detaches himself. Adam mutters soft, indignant protests into the pillow, but remains dead to the world.
Kris showers. Washes his hair. He lets his fingers creep down, down, down, touches where Adam had been last night. Adam's fingers. Adam's cock. Adam's tongue, for a brief moment.
He can admit it to himself, if nobody else (for various reasons); he really kind of loves getting fucked. He loves Adam using his fingers on him, loves it so much that he's come with nothing but Adam's fingers inside him several times, and he loves Adam's cock inside him, stretching until he thinks he can take no more and then going deeper, he loves it. He also loves this, carefully fingering himself the morning after, his ass swollen and sore, reminding him.
And yet. The rimming had weirded him out. He'd known about rimming in an abstract sort of way, but it had never been something he'd even considered. And last night, Adam had--- Kris leans his head against the cool tiles, fingers the swollen ring of his asshole and fists his cock until he comes messily all over the wall.
In the bedroom next door, Adam sleeps on.
*
So um, he says over breakfast, that--- last night. Um. And then he stuffs half a bagel in his mouth, jam going everywhere.
Adam's fingers tighten around his coffee mug, and he looks at the cracks in the tabletop. It's not, he says carefully, I mean. We don't have to do that. And Kris really hates that. It actually kind of pisses him off. Adam wanted - wants it, obviously, or he wouldn't have tried to begin with. But it freaked Kris out, so Adam won't push it, and Kris doesn't understand. Adam wants things, and then he figures out how to get them, and then he gets them. But these past four months, the only thing Adam has asked for was that Kris not break his heart, and then- well. Last night.
It's just kind of. Weird, is what he says, when he realizes the silence, and Adam shrugs easily. Some guys aren't into it, it's no big. Kris eats the rest of his bagel and burns his mouth when he drinks his coffee too fast.
*
Adam's hands are white-knuckled, tightly fisting the metal of the headboard. Kris is between his spread legs, mouth stuffed full of cock, and he still doesn't have this down, but Adam is always more than eager to let him practice.
Adam throws his head back, shouts, and Kris swallows eagerly. Adam's powerful thighs tremble, and his fingers are still curled tightly around metal. Kris wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, makes up his mind. He leans back down, spreading Adam wider, and Adam, boneless and still pretty out of it, lets him. Kris licks at Adam's balls and he shivers, whimpers. Then Kris licks higher, higher still until he feels the tight muscle under his tongue. Adam's breath hitches, and he unfurls a hand from the headboard to weakly push as Kris's head, but Kris lets his tongue explore a little. The texture is odd; he's never felt anything like it. It doesn't taste like what he'd expected, just musky and intimate, and with determination, he pushes his tongue further, inside, and Adam flinches.
Kris. Stop. There's a low note of warning in his voice, so Kris stops and sits back. Adam swallows, runs a hand through his hair, and then gets off the bed on wobbly legs.
He shuts the bathroom door behind him, and Kris hears the shower come on.
*
Adam stays in the bathroom long enough that Kris falls asleep. He wakes up when the door creaks open, but keeps his breathing even, turns over in bed.
He hears Adam's soft footsteps near the bed, feels him sit down. He manages not to flinch when Adam's warm hand cups his shoulder, when Adam leans in and kisses the top of his head. Adam sighs shakily, and then the bed moves when he stands, leaves.
*
Kris putters listlessly around the next day. Tries to write a song, but neither the words nor the melody will come to him. He checks his phone every 10 minutes, drinks too much coffee and ends up feeling sick enough that when Adam finally comes back from wherever he's been the whole day, he is still jittery on the couch where he has parked himself with a movie.
Adam struts in, affected casualness and barely a glance in Kris's direction. I brought dinner, he yells from the kitchen, and Kris slowly gets up from the couch, and goes to the kitchen.
They eat shitty take-out in relative silence. Adam doesn't tell Kris where he's been all day and Kris doesn't ask, but he eats with a forceful determination, setting his glass down hard, clinking his knife and fork together, scraping them across his plate.
After a particularly vicious stab to an unsuspecting green bean, Kris puts his own cutlery down and sighs.
I don't get why you're pissed, he says, because he doesn't, and Adam clearly is.
I'm not pissed, he says, though, rising pissily from the table and setting his plate by the sink. Kris frowns.
I thought that was what you --- I thought you wanted that! His voice is louder than he intended and Adam turns to look at him, mouth set in a hard, unhappy line.
I don't want you to do stuff you're uncomfortable with just to--- he makes a vague gesture that could mean anything, and crosses his arms in front of him.
Just to what? Kris asks, and Adam shrugs, looks away, his jaw tense.
Prove a point? I don't know, Adam shrugs helplessly, refuses to even look Kris's way.
Prove a point? Kris says, incredulous, prove a fucking point? Is that what you think this is? Adam shrugs again, and he rolls his shoulders, looks at his boots.
You're not gay, he says, and I'd promised myself I wouldn't ever chase after straight guys again. It always just fucks me up, but you're just so--- he presses the heels of his hands roughly into his eyes, and his eyeliner smudges. He still looks beautiful.
He puts his hands behind him on the kitchen counter, body swaying forward, closer, but he still isn't looking at Kris.
No you're right, Kris says, I'm not gay. But I'm like. Bi, or something.
Adam laughs harshly. Or something, yeah, he says, words clipped.
And okay, that's it.
I had your cock up my ass last night, I'm pretty sure that counts as not being 100% straight! He says loudly, which finally gets Adam to whip his head around and look at him, eyes wide and startled.
Kris's words reverberate in the room for a second. Adam blinks at him, and then his mouth quirks up at the corners before he doubles over, his laugh loud and booming in the kitchen.
Kris laughs a little, too, but that's mostly out of relief.
I can't believe you just said that, Adam says, when his laughter has subsided.
Yeah well. Kris shrugs, pushes at his plate. I may not be gay, but clearly, I'm not straight either --- Adam. He looks at Adam and tries to let everything he feels show on his face. But he's not as trained as Adam in letting things show or not show on his face, though, and he's not sure he succeeds.
Adam. This isn't something I'm doing because I'm bored or curious. I'm serious about this. About you. And yeah, there are maybe some things that I need time getting used to, but. Even if I freak out, it's not about being with a guy. Being with you.
Adam licks his lips nervously, bows his head, and his hair falls in his face.
So you know. You can stop walking on fucking eggshells around me, okay? I'm not gonna freak out. I’m not going back. He gets up and walks over to Adam, puts his hands on his hips and crowds him back against the kitchen counter. Adam's breath hitches in his throat and he looks down at Kris, unguarded and exposed.
So what--- what does that mean, he asks stubbornly, what---
It means, Kris says, pressing even closer, relishing in the sound Adam makes, it means that I want you to not wait for me to make the first move always. It means that I want you to realize that you're not going to scare me away. He pauses, not sure if he should really spell this out, but he figures now is a good a time as any.
I want you to stop being so careful with me. Okay? I'm not gonna break. I'm not gonna freak. I'd probably just enjoy it a lot more. I know you would.
Adam is still against him, pressed up against the counter, but then he circles Kris's wrist loosely, dips his head to really look him in the eyes.
If you're serious, he says, and Kris makes an impatient noise, I am, he says, trying to slip his wrists from Adam's hands, but Adam tightens his hold and pulls him impossibly close.
If you're serious, Adam presses on, then tell me after this.
*
And then the counter is digging into his back, and he's bent back over it further than he thought he was able to. One of Adam's hands is half pushing his face closer to where he is kissing Kris roughly, half pulling sharply at the short hair at the nape of his neck. Adam kisses him like he'd done only a few times at the very beginning; deep, rough kisses, tongue and teeth and lips --- Kris hasn't ever been kissed this thoroughly, he's pretty sure. And then he's not really sure of anything, because Adam's other hand is rubbing his dick through denim, rubbing and squeezing and Kris presses into his hand eagerly.
Then he's being manhandled into the bedroom, more or less thrown on the bed, and this is how Kris had thought sex with Adam was like, before. It's turning him on so much he's drunk with it.
Adam crawls up the bed and settles between his legs, his eyes dark with intent. He unbuttons Kris's shirt, undoes his belt and jeans, then he sits back on his haunches.
Strip, he says, and Kris can't obey fast enough, almost falling off the bed in his haste. Adam doesn't laugh at his flailing, though, just sits there, watching Kris with intense eyes, and the second Kris is naked, Adam crowds him back against the headboard.
Adam briefly touches Kris's cock, and Kris can feel his stomach quiver; it's too soon, too soon, but Adam just smirks at him before taking off one of his leather bracelets, black with silver studs, deftly wrapping it around the base of Kris's cock. Kris whines, and Adam just chuckles low in his throat.
Adam then takes Kris's hands and curls them around the headboard, fingers slipping between Kris's on the cool metal. Don't let go until I tell you to, he says, breath hot and damp against the sensitive skin under Kris's ear, and Kris gulps. He grips the headboard so hard it hurts.
Adam shuffles closer on his knees, and it should look ridiculous, but it doesn't, it really doesn't, and Kris is so hard, so hard, it makes him dizzy.
Adam's crotch is right in his face, and Adam slowly, slowly unzips himself, hard cock jutting out. Kris shamelessly chases for it with his mouth, and Adam drives his hips forward, pushing most of his cock down Kris's throat.
Kris gags and his eyes water, but Adam roughly slides a hand over Kris's cheek, fingers tapping lightly where the cheeks hollows, before cupping the back of Kris's head, pulling him closer yet. When Adam pulls away, he coughs, gasps for breath, but Adam is right there again, thrusting into his mouth with determination. Kris is hypnotized by the heady taste of Adam on his tongue, the weight and warmth of his cock, but he struggles to match Adam's ruthless pace.
And just like that, Adam pulls out and away, and once again Kris is left gasping for breath, his mouth and throat sore, lips swollen. He doesn't get much chance to sober up though, because Adam grins lasciviously up at him before swallowing him down in one go.
And like, it's really a beautiful thing, how much Adam loves sucking cock. Kris actually genuinely thinks it's a shame that Ode to Cocksucking (a rock-electronica power ballad, according to Adam, who wrote it after going down on Kris in every room in the house in a single day) won't ever be heard outside of the recording studio Adam's built in the basement.
Kris tightens his hold on the headboard, as Adam uses every dirty trick on him, and he's so hard it's painful. His hips jerk and he arches up into Adam, but Adam slams his hips down, large hands hot on his hips, fingers digging hard enough to bruise.
All of a sudden, Adam snaps the cock-ring off and takes Kris deep into his throat, and Kris shouts, and comes and comes and comes.
When his head clears a little, Adam is slowly uncurling his fingers from the headboard. Kris's fingers hurt and he whimpers, but Adam just takes his time and kisses each one sweetly.
Then he unceremoniously flips Kris over on his belly and puts an arm under his hips, pulling him up on his hands and knees.
Adam roughly palms his ass before using his thumbs to spread him open, and Kris hisses. He feels spent and exhausted already, and is more than content to lay back and let Adam drive.
Adam pushes two lubed fingers inside, and Kris's breath stutters, but Adam kisses the base of his spine and whispers, relax into his heated skin. He does, feels his body open around Adam's blunt fingers, and Adam hums in appreciation. His thumb traces the rim of Kris's ass while working him open, and Kris shivers, feels his cock stir.
The next second Adam has his cock buried deep inside him, and Kris yells out, wordlessly. Adam starts fucking into him immediately, hard, deep strokes that makes Kris's head spin. He can hear Adam talking, filth and endearments and he tries to answer, but he can't find the words anywhere in his head.
A particularly deep thrust catches him off guard, and he comes messily all over the bedspread. His arms tremble, and he falls forward onto the bed, and it's only Adam's determined hands on his hips that keeps him on his knees. Adam's pace is relentless, and Kris's cheek is rubbed raw on the fabric of the bedspread, but he doesn't care, can't even think about anything else but the feel of Adam's fat, gorgeous cock in him, stretching him so wide, fucking him so deep.
Adam's fingers finally tighten around his hips, and he slumps down over Kris, covering his body with his own as he comes deep inside him.
Adam's breath is harsh and loud in his ear, and Kris's own pulse is racing. He wants to just lie down and pass out, but Adam is keeping him on his raw knees.
Adam slowly pulls out, and Kris is really fucking sore already, but he doesn't mind one bit. Again he tries to just collapse down on the bed, but Adam won't let him and he whines, high and pathetic. Adam kisses him just above his ass and says, patience, voice rough and raw.
Kris just grunts and closes his eyes. Adam can do whatever he wants; Kris is just going to lie right here and pass out.
Except--- except, Adam spreads him open with his fingers and Kris whimpers into the bedspread, and then Adam's tongue, warm and slick, presses inside him and Kris, Kris can't even--- he feels his cock harden, and he has no idea how the fuck that happens, he can't come again, he can't, except his body obviously feels differently.
Adam's warm hands have him spread wide open, and Adam's tongue is so deep inside him, and Kris can't help but wantonly, shamelessly pushing back against him, begging, he's fucking begging for Adam to just keep doing what he's doing, pleasepleaseplease panted into the mattress, and Adam is making these eager noises and wet sounds, and Kris can't help it, he comes again, so hard that he loses a few seconds.
*
He's sprawled out on his back, and Adam is propped up on an elbow beside him, carefully not touching him anywhere, weakly wiping at the mess on his face.
So yeah, he says, and his voice is shot to all hell, and he's not looking Kris in the eye again, that's me not holding back or being careful with you.
He exhales shakily and flops down on his back, tense and unhappy. Kris groans, but manages to slide close to Adam. He slips an arm under Adam's neck and pulls him up as he leans in, licks Adam's glistening chin, lapping at come and spit and lube, and then finally kissing Adam with everything he's got left.
Then he curls around Adam as best as he can, lacing their fingers together.
I'm serious, he says.
ontd_ai kink meme (round the second.)The prompt was:
34. Adam/Kris, rimming. bb kris is reluctant at first but Adam shows him what he's been missing.
Title: Serious
Pairing: Kradam (KRAM)
Rating: nc-17
And it's not like he's squeamish or something. He's really, really not. He's had Adam's cock and come in his mouth, in his ass, all over his face, hands, belly--- pretty much everywhere, really, but the first time Adam carefully puts his mouth there, Kris's entire body stutters, and he flinches away.
Adam, who isn't blind or stupid, and who still, after four months of them doing this, is too cautious when it comes to sex, stops immediately. Adam never makes the first move and always lets Kris set the pace, and Kris is pretty sure that even though they've fucked more times than he can remember, Adam hasn't ever really let go, too afraid of hurting Kris, too afraid of doing something he might not like.
And rimming, apparently, is his limit. Adam runs his hands soothingly up his back, and presses a soft kiss to the swell of Kris's ass, but Kris feels self-conscious, all of a sudden, and he flops down on his back, pulling Adam along.
He flings an arm over his face, and the other around Adam's neck.
C'mon, c'mon, he says, and Adam proceeds to finger him until he's lost every word but please, and then fucks him until he's lost that one as well.
*
Kris is stuck to Adam when he wakes up. It's uncomfortable and stings a little when he detaches himself. Adam mutters soft, indignant protests into the pillow, but remains dead to the world.
Kris showers. Washes his hair. He lets his fingers creep down, down, down, touches where Adam had been last night. Adam's fingers. Adam's cock. Adam's tongue, for a brief moment.
He can admit it to himself, if nobody else (for various reasons); he really kind of loves getting fucked. He loves Adam using his fingers on him, loves it so much that he's come with nothing but Adam's fingers inside him several times, and he loves Adam's cock inside him, stretching until he thinks he can take no more and then going deeper, he loves it. He also loves this, carefully fingering himself the morning after, his ass swollen and sore, reminding him.
And yet. The rimming had weirded him out. He'd known about rimming in an abstract sort of way, but it had never been something he'd even considered. And last night, Adam had--- Kris leans his head against the cool tiles, fingers the swollen ring of his asshole and fists his cock until he comes messily all over the wall.
In the bedroom next door, Adam sleeps on.
*
So um, he says over breakfast, that--- last night. Um. And then he stuffs half a bagel in his mouth, jam going everywhere.
Adam's fingers tighten around his coffee mug, and he looks at the cracks in the tabletop. It's not, he says carefully, I mean. We don't have to do that. And Kris really hates that. It actually kind of pisses him off. Adam wanted - wants it, obviously, or he wouldn't have tried to begin with. But it freaked Kris out, so Adam won't push it, and Kris doesn't understand. Adam wants things, and then he figures out how to get them, and then he gets them. But these past four months, the only thing Adam has asked for was that Kris not break his heart, and then- well. Last night.
It's just kind of. Weird, is what he says, when he realizes the silence, and Adam shrugs easily. Some guys aren't into it, it's no big. Kris eats the rest of his bagel and burns his mouth when he drinks his coffee too fast.
*
Adam's hands are white-knuckled, tightly fisting the metal of the headboard. Kris is between his spread legs, mouth stuffed full of cock, and he still doesn't have this down, but Adam is always more than eager to let him practice.
Adam throws his head back, shouts, and Kris swallows eagerly. Adam's powerful thighs tremble, and his fingers are still curled tightly around metal. Kris wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, makes up his mind. He leans back down, spreading Adam wider, and Adam, boneless and still pretty out of it, lets him. Kris licks at Adam's balls and he shivers, whimpers. Then Kris licks higher, higher still until he feels the tight muscle under his tongue. Adam's breath hitches, and he unfurls a hand from the headboard to weakly push as Kris's head, but Kris lets his tongue explore a little. The texture is odd; he's never felt anything like it. It doesn't taste like what he'd expected, just musky and intimate, and with determination, he pushes his tongue further, inside, and Adam flinches.
Kris. Stop. There's a low note of warning in his voice, so Kris stops and sits back. Adam swallows, runs a hand through his hair, and then gets off the bed on wobbly legs.
He shuts the bathroom door behind him, and Kris hears the shower come on.
*
Adam stays in the bathroom long enough that Kris falls asleep. He wakes up when the door creaks open, but keeps his breathing even, turns over in bed.
He hears Adam's soft footsteps near the bed, feels him sit down. He manages not to flinch when Adam's warm hand cups his shoulder, when Adam leans in and kisses the top of his head. Adam sighs shakily, and then the bed moves when he stands, leaves.
*
Kris putters listlessly around the next day. Tries to write a song, but neither the words nor the melody will come to him. He checks his phone every 10 minutes, drinks too much coffee and ends up feeling sick enough that when Adam finally comes back from wherever he's been the whole day, he is still jittery on the couch where he has parked himself with a movie.
Adam struts in, affected casualness and barely a glance in Kris's direction. I brought dinner, he yells from the kitchen, and Kris slowly gets up from the couch, and goes to the kitchen.
They eat shitty take-out in relative silence. Adam doesn't tell Kris where he's been all day and Kris doesn't ask, but he eats with a forceful determination, setting his glass down hard, clinking his knife and fork together, scraping them across his plate.
After a particularly vicious stab to an unsuspecting green bean, Kris puts his own cutlery down and sighs.
I don't get why you're pissed, he says, because he doesn't, and Adam clearly is.
I'm not pissed, he says, though, rising pissily from the table and setting his plate by the sink. Kris frowns.
I thought that was what you --- I thought you wanted that! His voice is louder than he intended and Adam turns to look at him, mouth set in a hard, unhappy line.
I don't want you to do stuff you're uncomfortable with just to--- he makes a vague gesture that could mean anything, and crosses his arms in front of him.
Just to what? Kris asks, and Adam shrugs, looks away, his jaw tense.
Prove a point? I don't know, Adam shrugs helplessly, refuses to even look Kris's way.
Prove a point? Kris says, incredulous, prove a fucking point? Is that what you think this is? Adam shrugs again, and he rolls his shoulders, looks at his boots.
You're not gay, he says, and I'd promised myself I wouldn't ever chase after straight guys again. It always just fucks me up, but you're just so--- he presses the heels of his hands roughly into his eyes, and his eyeliner smudges. He still looks beautiful.
He puts his hands behind him on the kitchen counter, body swaying forward, closer, but he still isn't looking at Kris.
No you're right, Kris says, I'm not gay. But I'm like. Bi, or something.
Adam laughs harshly. Or something, yeah, he says, words clipped.
And okay, that's it.
I had your cock up my ass last night, I'm pretty sure that counts as not being 100% straight! He says loudly, which finally gets Adam to whip his head around and look at him, eyes wide and startled.
Kris's words reverberate in the room for a second. Adam blinks at him, and then his mouth quirks up at the corners before he doubles over, his laugh loud and booming in the kitchen.
Kris laughs a little, too, but that's mostly out of relief.
I can't believe you just said that, Adam says, when his laughter has subsided.
Yeah well. Kris shrugs, pushes at his plate. I may not be gay, but clearly, I'm not straight either --- Adam. He looks at Adam and tries to let everything he feels show on his face. But he's not as trained as Adam in letting things show or not show on his face, though, and he's not sure he succeeds.
Adam. This isn't something I'm doing because I'm bored or curious. I'm serious about this. About you. And yeah, there are maybe some things that I need time getting used to, but. Even if I freak out, it's not about being with a guy. Being with you.
Adam licks his lips nervously, bows his head, and his hair falls in his face.
So you know. You can stop walking on fucking eggshells around me, okay? I'm not gonna freak out. I’m not going back. He gets up and walks over to Adam, puts his hands on his hips and crowds him back against the kitchen counter. Adam's breath hitches in his throat and he looks down at Kris, unguarded and exposed.
So what--- what does that mean, he asks stubbornly, what---
It means, Kris says, pressing even closer, relishing in the sound Adam makes, it means that I want you to not wait for me to make the first move always. It means that I want you to realize that you're not going to scare me away. He pauses, not sure if he should really spell this out, but he figures now is a good a time as any.
I want you to stop being so careful with me. Okay? I'm not gonna break. I'm not gonna freak. I'd probably just enjoy it a lot more. I know you would.
Adam is still against him, pressed up against the counter, but then he circles Kris's wrist loosely, dips his head to really look him in the eyes.
If you're serious, he says, and Kris makes an impatient noise, I am, he says, trying to slip his wrists from Adam's hands, but Adam tightens his hold and pulls him impossibly close.
If you're serious, Adam presses on, then tell me after this.
*
And then the counter is digging into his back, and he's bent back over it further than he thought he was able to. One of Adam's hands is half pushing his face closer to where he is kissing Kris roughly, half pulling sharply at the short hair at the nape of his neck. Adam kisses him like he'd done only a few times at the very beginning; deep, rough kisses, tongue and teeth and lips --- Kris hasn't ever been kissed this thoroughly, he's pretty sure. And then he's not really sure of anything, because Adam's other hand is rubbing his dick through denim, rubbing and squeezing and Kris presses into his hand eagerly.
Then he's being manhandled into the bedroom, more or less thrown on the bed, and this is how Kris had thought sex with Adam was like, before. It's turning him on so much he's drunk with it.
Adam crawls up the bed and settles between his legs, his eyes dark with intent. He unbuttons Kris's shirt, undoes his belt and jeans, then he sits back on his haunches.
Strip, he says, and Kris can't obey fast enough, almost falling off the bed in his haste. Adam doesn't laugh at his flailing, though, just sits there, watching Kris with intense eyes, and the second Kris is naked, Adam crowds him back against the headboard.
Adam briefly touches Kris's cock, and Kris can feel his stomach quiver; it's too soon, too soon, but Adam just smirks at him before taking off one of his leather bracelets, black with silver studs, deftly wrapping it around the base of Kris's cock. Kris whines, and Adam just chuckles low in his throat.
Adam then takes Kris's hands and curls them around the headboard, fingers slipping between Kris's on the cool metal. Don't let go until I tell you to, he says, breath hot and damp against the sensitive skin under Kris's ear, and Kris gulps. He grips the headboard so hard it hurts.
Adam shuffles closer on his knees, and it should look ridiculous, but it doesn't, it really doesn't, and Kris is so hard, so hard, it makes him dizzy.
Adam's crotch is right in his face, and Adam slowly, slowly unzips himself, hard cock jutting out. Kris shamelessly chases for it with his mouth, and Adam drives his hips forward, pushing most of his cock down Kris's throat.
Kris gags and his eyes water, but Adam roughly slides a hand over Kris's cheek, fingers tapping lightly where the cheeks hollows, before cupping the back of Kris's head, pulling him closer yet. When Adam pulls away, he coughs, gasps for breath, but Adam is right there again, thrusting into his mouth with determination. Kris is hypnotized by the heady taste of Adam on his tongue, the weight and warmth of his cock, but he struggles to match Adam's ruthless pace.
And just like that, Adam pulls out and away, and once again Kris is left gasping for breath, his mouth and throat sore, lips swollen. He doesn't get much chance to sober up though, because Adam grins lasciviously up at him before swallowing him down in one go.
And like, it's really a beautiful thing, how much Adam loves sucking cock. Kris actually genuinely thinks it's a shame that Ode to Cocksucking (a rock-electronica power ballad, according to Adam, who wrote it after going down on Kris in every room in the house in a single day) won't ever be heard outside of the recording studio Adam's built in the basement.
Kris tightens his hold on the headboard, as Adam uses every dirty trick on him, and he's so hard it's painful. His hips jerk and he arches up into Adam, but Adam slams his hips down, large hands hot on his hips, fingers digging hard enough to bruise.
All of a sudden, Adam snaps the cock-ring off and takes Kris deep into his throat, and Kris shouts, and comes and comes and comes.
When his head clears a little, Adam is slowly uncurling his fingers from the headboard. Kris's fingers hurt and he whimpers, but Adam just takes his time and kisses each one sweetly.
Then he unceremoniously flips Kris over on his belly and puts an arm under his hips, pulling him up on his hands and knees.
Adam roughly palms his ass before using his thumbs to spread him open, and Kris hisses. He feels spent and exhausted already, and is more than content to lay back and let Adam drive.
Adam pushes two lubed fingers inside, and Kris's breath stutters, but Adam kisses the base of his spine and whispers, relax into his heated skin. He does, feels his body open around Adam's blunt fingers, and Adam hums in appreciation. His thumb traces the rim of Kris's ass while working him open, and Kris shivers, feels his cock stir.
The next second Adam has his cock buried deep inside him, and Kris yells out, wordlessly. Adam starts fucking into him immediately, hard, deep strokes that makes Kris's head spin. He can hear Adam talking, filth and endearments and he tries to answer, but he can't find the words anywhere in his head.
A particularly deep thrust catches him off guard, and he comes messily all over the bedspread. His arms tremble, and he falls forward onto the bed, and it's only Adam's determined hands on his hips that keeps him on his knees. Adam's pace is relentless, and Kris's cheek is rubbed raw on the fabric of the bedspread, but he doesn't care, can't even think about anything else but the feel of Adam's fat, gorgeous cock in him, stretching him so wide, fucking him so deep.
Adam's fingers finally tighten around his hips, and he slumps down over Kris, covering his body with his own as he comes deep inside him.
Adam's breath is harsh and loud in his ear, and Kris's own pulse is racing. He wants to just lie down and pass out, but Adam is keeping him on his raw knees.
Adam slowly pulls out, and Kris is really fucking sore already, but he doesn't mind one bit. Again he tries to just collapse down on the bed, but Adam won't let him and he whines, high and pathetic. Adam kisses him just above his ass and says, patience, voice rough and raw.
Kris just grunts and closes his eyes. Adam can do whatever he wants; Kris is just going to lie right here and pass out.
Except--- except, Adam spreads him open with his fingers and Kris whimpers into the bedspread, and then Adam's tongue, warm and slick, presses inside him and Kris, Kris can't even--- he feels his cock harden, and he has no idea how the fuck that happens, he can't come again, he can't, except his body obviously feels differently.
Adam's warm hands have him spread wide open, and Adam's tongue is so deep inside him, and Kris can't help but wantonly, shamelessly pushing back against him, begging, he's fucking begging for Adam to just keep doing what he's doing, pleasepleaseplease panted into the mattress, and Adam is making these eager noises and wet sounds, and Kris can't help it, he comes again, so hard that he loses a few seconds.
*
He's sprawled out on his back, and Adam is propped up on an elbow beside him, carefully not touching him anywhere, weakly wiping at the mess on his face.
So yeah, he says, and his voice is shot to all hell, and he's not looking Kris in the eye again, that's me not holding back or being careful with you.
He exhales shakily and flops down on his back, tense and unhappy. Kris groans, but manages to slide close to Adam. He slips an arm under Adam's neck and pulls him up as he leans in, licks Adam's glistening chin, lapping at come and spit and lube, and then finally kissing Adam with everything he's got left.
Then he curls around Adam as best as he can, lacing their fingers together.
I'm serious, he says.
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