Kinkmeme #7

[minaloush]

Kinkmeme 7 is go.

Remember: if you want a prompt written for a different person, you can repost it yourself.

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Backwards Part 3 (repost).

[anonymous]

"Can I?" Adam says, putting his hand lightly on Kris's pants somewhere around mid-thigh, trailing his fingers slowly up toward his ass.

Kris huffs out a breath and buries his head in the sofa, nods slightly.

Adam has to breath deeply. He strokes Kris's actual ass; his palm curves over its glorious roundness. Holy shit, Kris's ass. He must make a little sound, because Kris laughs a little, choked.

"Do you have any fucking idea?" Adam murmurs, then lifts his hand and taps Kris's cheek, just a tap.

Kris gasps and wiggles on Adam's lap. Adam's getting harder by the second. He shifts around. "Uh. Sorry," he says, because there's no way Kris won't have noticed his dick, which is probably drilling a hole in Kris's stomach right now.

"This is probably too weird," Kris says, moving to get up. Adam realizes he's got to get his fucking shit together and do this right. Kris's voice is tense again, on the edge of freaked out, but Adam thinks it's more that Kris really needs this than anything else.

"No. Wait. I can do this. This doesn't have to be--It can be whatever you need." Adam takes a breath, then brings his hand down harder on the same cheek. Kris gasps. Adam smacks the other cheek, a little harder. Kris makes a bitten-off moaning sound, and that's it. Adam realizes yeah, fuck, this is what Kris really needs. He gets serious now, peppering Kris's ass with swats, building slowly in intensity, the way he knows is the way to go.

Kris is panting now, face flushed -- the part of it Adam can see -- hair curling on his temples. Kris's hands are curled into fists, and Adam suspects Kris is frustrated, wanting more, but he's afraid to presume, leery of transgressing. "Can I--" He lets his hands linger at Kris waistband. "Do you want..."

"Oh, god," Kris says, voice thick.

That's enough for Adam, and he's reaching around, trying to find the fastenings for Kris's pants, careful not to get near his cock, but Kris is there first and gets them undone. Together, they shove them down. Kris is wearing boxers. Adam chokes out a sort-of laugh. "Plaid?"

"Fuck you," Kris manages, muffled in the sofa cushion.

"Mmm, we could arrange that." Adam means it to be their regular kind of banter, but given the circumstances, probably it wasn't the wisest thing to say. Kris stiffens a little, but this time, Adam knows what to do to divert him.

"Amazing," he can't help but say, as he tentatively puts his hand on the back of Kris's thigh. Kris's legs are incredible, just like the rest of his body, and the swell of his thighs where they join his hips... it's like some wet dream of a boy's body, but with a little curve, just the right kind to--

"Ow," Kris says, when Adam smacks his thigh; Adam wants to see the flesh turn pink.

"Sorry," Adam says, stroking the skin, watching, fascinated, as the color fades to pale again. "I should have asked whether--"

"Good ow, though."

"Holy fuck." Adam does it again, this time to the other thigh, then intersperses lighter smacks to the thighs with heavier ones to Kris's ass.

Kris pants and squirms. Adam feels like he's going to explode. His dick is aching, hot, and he can feel Kris, his hard length digging into Adam's thigh.