ihearthings_ii | just want your extra time

Written for the

ontd_ai kink!meme, Round the Third.

The prompt was:

18. Kradam. They'd been blowing each other for 2 months before Adam finally got up the nerve to ask Kris for a kiss. (friends w/ benefits type scenario.)

Title: Just want your extra time
Pairing: Kradam (KRAM)
Rating: nc-17

Adam is a sex god. It's really that simple, and it's not *just* him being full of himself --- he's had plenty of guys say so; "Fuck, you're like, a sex god," with that glazed and dazed look in their eyes, and pretty much the same reaction that Kara had when she proclaimed him a rock god. (The guys are usually just as vocal, if not more so, too.)

And hey, it's not like he's complaining. Adam loves sex. Everything about it. Sex can be fun, and sex can be hot and dangerous and intense and joyful and everything that's good about life. So yeah, he loves sex. All kinds.

He loves fucking. He could do it all day long, he really could. He loves it fast and rough, the kind that leaves bite-marks and bruises, the kind to leave you sore and out of breath. He likes it slow and drawn-out, the muscle-shaking, toe-curling torturous kind that leaves you a trembling mess for hours after. He has kinks, for sure, tying people up and being tied up, being at somebody's mercy like that, or having someone completely in his power, it's a trip he can never fully explain; but the rush of it always just hits his bloodstream like the best designer drug.

And he loves blowjobs, giving and getting; fucking into a tight, wet mouth, feeling himself sliding in and out, he loves it. When someone blows him, he loves touching them right on the corner of their mouth, feeling himself sliding in and out, feeling himself through their cheeks, their throats. And he fucking loves giving head, he loves just getting a guy up against a wall or down on his back and just fucking going to town.

It thrills him, the kind of control that gives him over someone, that he can do whatever he wants. He loves it, and he's good at it too. He really fucking loves having a cock in his mouth, he loves the feeling of that soft, soft skin sliding on his tongue, loves it going down, down, down until he thinks he can't take another inch, another second, loves pushing past that barrier and taking it all the way down, loves the way he can pin a guy's helplessly thrusting hips down with his hands and swallow everything he's got to give.

But he also really, really loves kissing. Sometimes even more than blowjobs or fucking, which is totally not something a sex god should think. But Adam, Adam loves kissing. He loves that it can mean so many things. I love you, fuck me, fuck you, and how, sometimes, kissing can be so much more intimate than fucking.

Him and Brad used to kiss for hours, and it didn't always lead to sex, and it had been one of Adam's favorite things to do. He'd kissed and fucked and sucked a lot of people before Brad, and he's kissed and fucked and sucked a lot of people since; but nothing has ever been able to measure up to how it felt, kissing Brad.

Just kissing; lips and tongues and teeth and mouths, messy and slick with spit; kissing and biting and nipping and licking; being so close to somebody, so happy and calm and in love --- for a while, he thought he would never have that again.

*

Him and Kris, they've been doing this for a couple of months, now. It's just trading blowjobs when they're lonely and horny or too wound up to sleep, and it doesn't really mean anything. Except, well. Except it kind of does. Except Adam kind of wants it to.

They haven't done anything except blowjobs, groping, rubbing off on each other, and when Adam thinks about taking it further with Kris, his mind goes to kissing instead of fucking. He kind of hates it cause yeah, he had a crush, but this was just supposed to be like, a tour thing, a mutually beneficial way to let off some steam.

"Man up, you pussy," Neil says when Adam calls him, which is completely unhelpful, but it would be in totally bad taste to call Drake for advice and calling Brad for tips on how to kiss someone the way they used to is just--- no.

"No really, I can't believe you're complaining that you're getting regular head," Neil continues, "how the fuck are we even related? What the fuck kind of rock star are you anyway? I don't-" Adam hangs up on him. He'll pay for that, he knows. Neil uses a lot of his creative energy to come up with inventive ways of getting back at people.

*

So he tries, once. After a leisurely blowjob he's pretty sure Kris had initiated more out of boredom than anything else, Adam had pulled Kris off his knees; cupped his face and leaned in. Kris had blinked at him before turning his head to the side at the last minute, and Adam's lips caught him high on his cheek, right next to his eye.

Kris had barely looked at him the rest of the night except for a few odd glances in his direction that Adam had avoided, but he had been strangely grateful that Kris had left him alone; he could still feel the rejection and humiliation burning bright on his face, and he'd sworn to himself that it wouldn't happen again.

*

Which last exactly as long as it takes Kris to suggest they 69 in his bunk while the others are at the after-party, and Adam probably doesn’t do too great a job at hiding how pleased he is with the whole thing. So okay, yeah, he wasn’t gonna do this anymore, but it’s Kris, and Adam has been bad at saying no to him since the second they met, and okay, yeah, it’s cramped and awkward and Kris hits his head against the ceiling more than once, but Kris took the initiative to have them both be naked at the same time, and touching pretty much everywhere, and it’s quite possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to Adam.

At least until they’re dressed and giggling, trying to air out the bunk. They’re sitting close on the floor, and Adam turns to say something to Kris as Kris turns to reach for something in his bunk, and there’s a short moment where they lock eyes, foreheads almost touching. Kris opens his mouth to say something, and Adam turns his head away and stands abruptly, shoving his hands deep in his pockets.

Kris calls after him, but Adam climbs into his own bunk and snaps the curtain closed. The sound of Kris, softly playing some song he doesn’t recognize follows him into sleep.

*

Three days later he's on his knees, Kris's cock fucking in and out of his mouth, occasionally dipping into his throat. Kris has a good grip on the back of his head with one hand, hair twined tightly around his fingers, and Adam loves the little pinpricks of pain. Kris's other hand is cupped around Adam's jaw, thumb tracing his bottom lip over and over again, a counter rhythm to his thrusting.

Adam looks up at Kris, he knows how he looks; smeared eye make-up and a mouth full of cock, one hand on Kris's ass, palming roughly through denim, and the heel of his other hand pressing against his own cock. He knows how he looks, and he wants Kris to know too.

Kris's head is tipped back against the wall, but his eyes are open, looking down at Adam. His pupils are blown, and he keeps licking his lips, and Adam has never wanted to kiss him more.

Kris's thrusting get rougher, faster, his hand tightens in Adam's hair, and he presses the nail of his thumb into Adam's lip, dragging it down; Adam feels spit spilling down his chin but does nothing to stop it.

Kris's hips falter, and he thrusts in all the way, only to pull almost all the way out, coming hot and bitter, right on Adam's tongue. Adam swallows and Kris pulls all the way out, but keeps his grip on Adam's face. He looks down at Adam, hooded eyes and shiny lips, and then he slowly, slowly drags the tip of his cock over Adam's lips, before tucking himself back in and leaving without a word.

Adam's breath catches in his chest, and his eyes feel raw. His hand is sticky in his lap; he'd come in his pants without even realizing it. His mouth feels used and sore, and maybe this arrangement he has with Kris was never just a casual thing but for the first time ever it feels shameful and sordid.

He stays on his knees in the grimy backstage toilet until his breathing is back to normal, and his hands have stopped shaking.

*

Adam pretends it didn't happen, and he's not sure what actually did happen. Kris hasn't mentioned it, and he continues on as if nothing had changed. But two days after it happens, Kris corners Adam backstage; pressing his erection slowly to the side of Adam's thigh, and Adam can't help the flinch.

"What the fuck," Kris says, pulling away sharply. Adam tries to explain but he is at a loss for word, and he never usually is.

Kris looks at him, head cocked to the side.

"I tried to kiss you," Adam finally says, curling his fingers around his thumbs, "I tried to --- and you turned away." He wishes he'd said something different, something cool and sexy, instead of something lame and stupid.

Kris looks startled. "Is that what this is about?" he says, "You've been acting weirdly for weeks. I thought you were like, bored or something."

"Bored?" Adam can't fathom how anybody could ever be bored with Kris.

"Yeah. I mean, you're like, a sex god or something, and all we've been doing is ---" Kris gestures. "I thought you wanted more. I didn't think you wanted. That."

Adam looks down. Their feet are almost touching.

"And what if I do?"

Kris tilts his head up, and his smile is brilliant. Kris has really nice teeth. Adam wants to lick them.

Kris reaches up and cups Adam’s face with both hands. Kris has really nice hands too. Kris yanks him down, and lifts up on his tip-toes, sliding his fingers into the long hair at the nape of Adam’s neck. He presses their lips together chastely, once, twice, and then licks playfully over the seam of Adam’s lips.

"That would be nice."

Current Location: ... work.
Current Music: Cry baby (in my head)