Charity Ficlets Roundup

[cjmarlowe]

Seven ficlets written for donations to Donors Choose, between October 22 and today. (If you're linked to this post directly and want to see it with the cut tags intact, click here.)

Disclaimer: No disrespect intended to any of the persons depicted herein, who I hope are all living happy and fulfilled lives with their partner(s) of choice. This is purely fictional, and not in any way intended as an accurate representation of reality.

Allison, Kris, Adam. 838 words. PG. For binkleywtf. Gen.
Lessons

Prompt: Kris teaching Allison to play guitar for Michael Jackson week when they were still kind of getting to know each other.

Kris didn't make a point of telling everyone that he was the resident expert on Michael Jackson, it happened more organically than that. In retrospect, after it was pointed out to him, he realized he might have talked about him a lot even before the theme was announced, but music was the one safe topic of conversation with a bunch of people who were only sure you had that one thing in common with.

"Hey, how's that song working out for you?" he asked Allison as she flung herself into the chair next to him, for a moment reminding Kris so much of one of Katy's little sisters in her sheer teenagerness. It made him ache a little bit for the life he left behind, but not nearly enough to make him wish he hadn't come.

"It's the shit," she said, singing a couple of lines under her breath like they were part of the same sentence. "It would've taken me forever to find the right one on my own. He has a lot of songs!"

Allison wasn't the first person to come to him for advice, but she was the first one Kris really sat down and spent some time with. In Kris's head it wasn't really possible to not get the awesomeness of Michael Jackson, but Allison was just that much younger than him that maybe she just missed the whole phenomenon.

"Hey, play it for me, would you?" she said. "I wanna go through it again."

"You sure?" he said, strumming a couple of chords automatically. When his guitar was in his lap it wasn't even something he thought about. "I don't want you to blow your voice or anything."

"Nah, I'm good," she said, leaning forward onto her knees and watching him closely, not his face but his hands and the way they moved on the guitar. "We've got days until we have to perform."

"You want to...?" he said a moment later, holding the guitar up to her and lifting his eyebrows.

"I'm not really any good," she said, shaking her head. "My brother taught me a little, but I don't play much." She was still watching him closely, though, and Kris knew interest when he saw it.

"Come here then and I'll show you a little," he said, and Allison was quick to move from the chair to the couch next to him so he could hand the guitar over. Her hand position was a little awkward, but she more or less knew what she was doing. "Older brother?"

"Yeah," she said, strumming a chord as soon as she found it. "He plays way better than I do. I was always the singer, you know? But music runs in the family."

"You just need to practice a little," he said. "Just keep at it and it gets easier."

"I started complaining it hurt my fingers and stopped practicing," she admitted, finding another chord and playing it too.

"Yeah, it gets easier when you get past that," said Kris. "If you don't quit, you only have to go through that once, build up some calluses."

"That's not much fun," she said, strumming a little more. "How long did it take you to learn?"

"You don't stop learning," he insisted, trying to get her not to tense up her hand quite so much. "But I mean, I guess I taught myself over a summer when I was in high school. That's probably what you're asking."

"Yeah, that's what I'm asking," she said. "All right, show me some more." She handed the guitar back, and Kris played for her for a little while, until they reached the end of her limited attention span and she bounced off the couch to find herself something to snack on.

After watching her go Kris just kept on playing idly, joined on the couch again mere moments later.

"Maybe I should get you to help me with my stuff too," said Adam, half empty mug in his hand as he watched Kris quietly play. "You're good with her."

"You were watching?"

"I like to watch," said Adam, with a coy little smile that Kris already knew was for show. "Seriously, though, that was sweet."

"We were all sixteen once," said Kris, "and anything that can get her to sit still for a while, you know?"

"Yeah, but you try to get her." Kris just shrugged and smiled a little and stilled the guitar strings with his hand, not quite knowing what to say to that. "You're just good," Adam went on. "Not to mention talented."

"I try to be," said Kris with another little shrug. Good, not talented, though he guessed he tried to be both, from a certain point of view. "So are you angling for a lesson too?"

Adam laughed and shook his head. "Maybe another time," he said. "But I'll sing if you play."

"Sure," said Kris. "What did you have in mind?"

"Just start in on something," said Adam, "and I'll follow wherever you go."

Adam/Kris. 2014 words. PG. For orihara_kaoru. Sequel to Six Months (High school AU).
Written All Over

Prompt: Can you expand on the kradam hs au you wrote for me before? (first time sex) This time more about their relationship? Why are they keeping it a secret and what is school life like? Or something?

Kris thinks maybe if he just came out, it would be okay. He knows he'll be judged for it, maybe even hated for it, but the people who matter will still love him and isn't that the important thing? It can't be any harder than going to school every day, and to rehearsal, and to practice, and pretending that Adam is nothing more than a friend. And not even a particularly close friend. It makes him ache sometimes, knowing how much he loves Adam and how much he can't tell anyone.

But Adam's not ready, and that's the thing that Kris respects above everything else. Adam still feels awkward and uncertain, and when they talked about it, seriously talked about it, they agreed high school just isn't the time to do this. Once they graduate, once they moved on to bigger places and bigger things, then they can start fresh with their relationship being something everyone knows from the start, and not a big revelation that might change everything.

But maybe just a few people, a few important people. It doesn't have to be all or nothing.

Adam's standing at his locker with Alisan when Kris walks by and so Kris settles for a short, friendly wave at them, but then Alison whispers something in Adam's ear and heads off in the other direction and Kris veers off course to steal a couple of minutes with him while he can.

"Do you have rehearsal after class?" he says, because they've just started up a new show and Kris doesn't have the schedule memorized yet. Adam shakes his head and looks at Kris out of the corner of his eye without quite looking like he's looking at him. "Do you want to come over?"

"Sure," says Adam, fishing his books out and then closing his locker, finally turning to look at him. "Will your parents be home?"

"When they get off work, yeah," says Kris. "That's okay, right?"

"Of course," says Adam. "I just mean we'll just have to, you know, be more careful." He drops his voice even further before speaking again. "And I'm dying to fool around a little."

"This weekend," Kris promises him. "They're gone all day on Saturday, and Daniel is spending the weekend with a friend of his. We'll have the place to ourselves so we can, you know, take our time."

"Yeah?" says Adam. "Really?"

"Really," says Kris, "but I was thinking...." Adam looks wary at that, glancing up and down the hall and then looking Kris right in the eye. "No, maybe this isn't a good time."

"You can't just say something like that and then not finish," says Adam. "I'm going to worry all through last period if you don't tell me."

Kris could kick himself for doing this now, when they only have a few minutes, but he opened his big mouth so now he has to deal with the consequences. "I was thinking we could tell my parents," he says. "Maybe."

Adam chews on his lip, but he doesn't say no right away, so that's something. "Why now?" he says finally. "Isn't everything okay the way it is?"

"I've never lied to them about anything before," says Kris. "And I think this'll be okay, if I tell them. I would feel better. But I won't, if you don't want to. We should do it when we're ready."

"Would it just be your parents?" says Adam. "I mean, would they tell anyone else? Would they feel obligated to tell people at your church? Would they tell my parents?"

"I don't think so," says Kris, because he won't lie and say he knows when he doesn't. "Every time I've gone to them with anything else, they haven't told my secrets to anyone."

"This is different," says Adam, and Kris knows he's right about that, but maybe it isn't as different as they're making it out to be. "This is big."

"Yeah, it is," agrees Kris, and then the buzzer sounds before they can discuss it any more than that. "It's totally okay if you say no, but think about it? Just them, it doesn't have to be anyone else."

"I will," says Adam, and raises one finger in Kris's direction, their secret signal when they wish they could kiss. Kris raises his back and gives him a little smile before he heads to class.

:::

Kris has been home for about an hour before Adam arrives, knocking on the door in a way that Kris can almost always identify as him even though he can't quite pinpoint how it's different.

"Okay," says Adam as soon as he opens the door. "If you still want to. Okay."

Kris can't help breaking into a smile, and even though he's nervous too, maybe even more nervous than Adam, he really does want this. He wants his family to know him the way they always knew him before Kris realized he was gay and started keeping this big part of his life a secret from them.

"Thank you," says Kris as he lets him inside. He kind of wants to kiss him right now, but this close to actually telling his family the truth he's not going to risk being caught before he can actually say it in his own words. He raises a finger at him instead, and Adam doesn't hesitate to return the gesture. "Let's...they're in the kitchen, Dad just got home and Mom's just starting dinner. Let's do it now, and then it'll be over with. It'll be done."

"Less time to panic about it," says Adam, though from the look of him he's been panicking a little since Kris first mentioned it. "You're sure they're going to be okay?"

"As sure as I can be," says Kris. "They love me." And really, he's so confident in his parents' love that he can't imagine they'll ever stop, no matter what. Adam nods and bites his lip and Kris stops just short of taking his hand. He grabs hold of his sleeve instead, just long enough to tug him in the direction of the kitchen, encouraging him to follow.

"Mom? Dad?" he says as he peeks his head inside.

His mom looks over from the pantry, one hand on a tupperware container of rice. "No, you don't need a snack," she says. "Dinner's already on."

"No, I know," says Kris, looking back over his shoulder to make sure Adam's still behind him. This isn't Adam's conversation to have, but in a lot of ways this is for both of them. "Are you busy?"

"You mean besides putting dinner together?" she says, but then she looks at Kris's face and something changes. Instead of arguing she just sits down next to her husband, dinner apparently taking a back seat now. "Of course we're not too busy for you."

Kris licks his lips and looks at Adam and decides he's going to do this sitting down, and not like he's hovering in the doorway ready to bolt. Adam follows his lead, though he taps his fingers silently at the table, obviously nervous.

"I just wanted to..." he starts, then chews on his lip for a moment and wishes he'd put together some kind of speech before doing this, if only to give himself a place to start. But then he looks at his parents' faces, at the way his father is clearly expectant, at the way his mother looks knowing and kind, and the truth slowly dawns on him. "You already know, don't you?"

His mother just reaches for his hands, covering them in hers. "Why don't you tell us anyway?"

Kris heart stops pounding, just like that, and he takes one of his hands away from his mother's so he can reach for Adam's, lacing their fingers together. "I'm gay," he says. "And me and Adam are together."

"Okay," she says, giving his hand a squeeze before withdrawing hers again.

"And you already knew all along," he says. "I can't believe it."

"Your face has always been easy to read, sweetheart," she says, "and we see how you look at him."

Kris does look at Adam then, and Adam looks a little embarrassed but he doesn't look freaked out. "See?" he says softly. "Not so scary."

"It's a little scary," argues Adam, but he also looks up at Kris's parents shyly. "Hi. I'm gay too."

"We figured that part out," says Kris's dad, and Adam blushes and looks at his hands.

"Just practicing," he says. "You're not going to tell anyone, right?"

"Oh honey, of course not," says Kris's mom comfortingly. "That's yours to tell. Are you staying for dinner?"

"Thank you," he says, "that would be nice. Then maybe Kris can come to my house afterwards? To do our homework?"

Kris knows immediately it has nothing to do with homework, and he wants to ask if Adam is really sure he wants to do this tonight, but that can wait until they're alone again.

"Of course he can," says his mom, even though he doesn't actually need the permission to go out after dinner anymore, as long as he's home by curfew. And from the way she says it, Kris is pretty sure she knows what Adam actually means too. "Kris, are you going to tell your brother?"

"Yeah," says Kris, "but can you guys help me make sure he doesn't tell anyone either? We don't want that, not yet, and he listens to you."

"Daniel will behave himself," she promises him. "We love you, Kris, and we're really happy you told us. I know it wasn't easy."

"I love you guys too," he says. "Thanks for being awesome. I think we're just going to, uh, go up to my room now. Till dinner."

"Door open," says his father automatically. "You know the rules about having a gir- a boyfriend in your room."

And honestly, Kris is just so happy that his parents are treating the two things as exactly the same that he doesn't argue the point at all, and definitely doesn't call attention to the fact that they've never enforced it before now. He wanted them to know this about him, but there are other things about his relationship with Adam they definitely don't need to know.

"Of course," he says. "And we'll talk more later, okay? You can ask me stuff, if you want to."

"We just want to know that you're happy and safe," she says. "That's what we want for you, Kristopher." She reaches out and squeezes his hand one more time before Kris gets up from the table, Adam rising right alongside him. "And we will always be here. For both of you."

Kris is pretty sure Adam's parents are going to be equally awesome, but he appreciates that all the same. Adam's parents might be cool, but there are other people that won't be.

"Thank you," says Adam. "And we'll be good. I promise."

Kris kind of doesn't want to be good - he at least wants a very long kiss after that - but he nods his head very firmly and pretends he doesn't see the knowing looks on his parents' faces. He figures they're probably going to talk about this with one another once Kris is gone, and he wants to give them that time to process it as much as he wants a little time alone with Adam.

"I'll call you when dinner's ready," she says, and Kris mumbles his thanks and tugs on Adam's hand to make their escape while they can.

"So I'm pretty sure my parents already know, too," Adam blurts out just before they reach the stairs. "They've said some stuff sometimes. I was just a little too unsure of myself to take the bait. But you and me, we've been together over six months now. I'm not exactly uncertain about any of this anymore."

"They're going to be awesome," Kris says confidently, because he can't really imagine them being anything else. "But for now, come on. I think we have some stuff to celebrate."

Kris/Brad. 1247 words. PG-13. For christig428.
Lost and Found

Prompt: Kris/Brad. I don't really have a prompt but I do want Brad as Brad, not Cheeks.

Kris Allen, the quintessential Arkansas boy, found himself in Los Angeles. Which was funny because until he got to LA he didn't even realize he was lost.

It didn't happen all at once, but on one particular morning he woke up and looked back at the past couple of years and realized just how much had changed. It wasn't just the divorce. It wasn't just the house, or the career, or the friends he'd made. It was waking up and looking at where he'd been and where he was going and not wondering when his life was really going to start.

Though it was still a bit of a surprise, and maybe always would be, who he was waking up with.

Brad was already out of bed and throwing open the curtains, transforming himself into a silhouette in the bright morning light. Kris propped himself up on one elbow and squinted at where Brad was greeting the world. Naked.

"Come back to bed," he said, pushing the covers out of the way. He had a lunch meeting in a couple of hours, and time in the studio after that, and then a real sit down interview that he had to squeeze in to talk about the new album, plus if he didn't call Adam back he was going to show up at Kris's front door and that was just going to be awkward for everyone. But right now, while they still could, he just wanted to be a little lazy. "You don't even have to do anything."

"If you think I should come back to bed and not do anything, we're not doing this right," said Brad, finally letting go of the curtains and turning around. "You could get up."

"But I like being lazy," said Kris. "We used to--"

Brad gave him a sad smile. "And if you're still talking about your ex-wife," he said, "we're definitely not doing this right."

"It just reminded me of before," said Kris, shaking his head, "when getting out of bed was sometimes optional. I'm not wishing I was with her."

"I know you're not," said Brad, "yet somehow you're still talking about her." He came back to the bed and leaned forward on both hands in order to give him a kiss, but it was clear that Kris was going to have to wrestle him to get him back in. "I'm going to have to work on that."

If he was going to have to work on that, then he really was sticking around, something Kris hadn't been entirely sure about. After all, it was still pretty new and he knew this whole thing sort of came out of left field, knew he was still feeling on some pretty unsteady ground about it. Good, and right, but unsteady.

"You know you're not just here because it was easy, right?" said Kris. "I mean, you know it's not just because you were the first convenient gay man the I knew?"

"There's nothing about this that's easy or convenient for you," said Brad. "The thought hadn't even crossed my mind. I'm here because I interest you, and what more could I ask for? I like to interest people, and I like people who interest me. And you, Kristopher Allen, have proven to be very interesting."

He might've said something else, or Kris might've answered, but Brad's phone started vibrating insistently on top of the dresser and Brad stilled a little as he looked and saw who was calling. "It's Adam," he said, and took the call right there by the bed instead of moving somewhere more private.

"Well, obviously I'm not at home," he said, squatting down and searching the floor for his clothes. "Do you know how many people try to pick me up at your concerts? There wasn't much chance of me going home alone last night." Kris scrunched up his nose at him, but Brad just stuck his tongue out at him and pulled his underwear on one handed. "I don't know, it might be someone you know. You know a lot of people."

Kris wondered if he should call Adam right now while he was on the phone with Brad, just to draw suspicion away from the fact that Brad was in his apartment, his bed, but that was both stupid and cowardly, and in the end he didn't even look at his phone, nevermind reach for it.

"I don't think you're allowed to ask me that question anymore," said Brad, smirking into his phone, and Kris wondered just what Adam had asked him and whether it had anything to do with sexual positions. "And no, I'm not going to ask him to say hi to you. Have some boundaries, Lambert."

Kris finally got out of bed, swinging his legs over the side and snagging a pair of clean boxers shorts that were just within arm's reach. Adam knew that Kris was interested in dating guys, and had even introduced him to a few, but there was no way he'd see this coming and Kris wasn't sure how or when to tell him. He only knew that it kind of wasn't optional.

"You know, if you were a good friend, you'd let me go," said Brad. "And no, not for the walk of shame. This one might be a keeper." Kris was glad Brad couldn't see his face when he said that. "Go be a rock star and let me enjoy my morning. I'll tell you about it later. Do you have time for coffee, or are you too busy being desired by the entire planet?"

With that Kris finally got up off the bed, stretched his arms over his head and wondered if it would be rude to work out for a little while. He had this itch under his skin now and he wasn't quite sure how to deal with it. Even morning sex wasn't going to get his mind off it now.

"Well, good to know it doesn't actually take up that much of your time," he said. "I'll call you when I'm free. Go pine for your lost innocence or something and let me enjoy my morning." He hung up without saying goodbye, but that was just something you could do with someone who knew you that well.

"You didn't say anything about me," said Kris as Brad tossed the phone on the unmade bed and pulled a tight t-shirt over his head.

"It's not really mine to tell, is it," he said, "and let me stop you before you say something about how it's about both of us, because you know that's not what I'm saying. We both know this one has to come from you."

Kris nodded and looked at his hands and it wasn't at all that he was in any way ashamed of this. He just didn't feel like he had the language yet to talk about it, it was new in all kinds of ways and it was Adam's ex-boyfriend, which had to be some sort of social taboo no matter what your sexuality or social circle. But they'd connected, in ways that had surprised them both, and this was just him. Kris had found himself in Los Angeles, and somehow Brad had become a part of that.

"I will," he said. "I promise I will. Just not today?"

"You'll tell him when you're ready," said Brad, and kissed his temple and set about making some breakfast.

Adam/Kris. 1780 words. NC-17. For vaguelycoherent. Contains: fingering, semi-public sex. begging
Willpower

Prompt: anything that has kris begging; it doesn't have to be really hardcore but you could also throw some fingering in there.

It had been too long, and that was a legitimate too long, not an 'I haven't seen you in a whole day, it's been too long'. Too long in a literal sense and too long in an emotional sense, too many events standing between the last time they'd done this and now.

"Adam," said Kris, trying to draw him away, trying to get his full attention. But Adam was in the spotlight here at this party and that was a hard thing to give up when he was trying to promote a new album, trying to carve out a career for himself. He knew Kris would be there when he's finished, and he wasn't wrong about that. Still, after his failed attempt Kris hovered, talked to a few key players himself, drank three quarters of a glass of wine and waited for Adam to be ready.

He knew he wasn't the only one who thought it had been too long; right now it was all a matter of willpower.

Adam's lasted until just after midnight, and Kris was watching his throat work as he drained his wine in one gulp then headed for the coat check. Kris waited just a few minutes before following; while this thing of theirs, whatever you wanted to call it, wasn't exactly a secret, it wasn't exactly public either.

The limo was waiting for him by the VIP exit, and he knew perfectly well it was for him even before the driver opened the door to present Adam waiting in the back seat for him.

"So where are we going?" Kris asked, unsnapping the leather cuff from his wrist and then resnapping it again, twisting it with his fingertips.

"I think around the block will do," said Adam, and with one touch of his finger he put up the privacy screen. "Maybe a few times, if we want to do this right."

"It's been too long," said Kris, finally saying those words out loud, those words that had been repeating themselves inside his head all night. He didn't care if it was in the limo; it wouldn't be the first time. "Please, Adam."

Adam grabbed hold of his ankle and pushed him back onto the leather seat, sliding a hand up his pants until he found bare skin. He stroked it with painfully thorough attention, then slowly slid his hand back down again to remove Kris's shoes with such care that you'd think it was his vocation.

"You're killing me here," said Kris, rotating his ankle when Adam placed his shoes and socks on the floor of the limo. "We're going to have to circle the block about a hundred times at this rate."

"We will if we have to," said Adam, kissing his ankle and then running his hands up Kris's legs, beginning to crawl overtop of him as he did. When he reached Kris's belt he took his time getting it undone, pulling it out inch by slow inch and placing it, too, with care on the floor with the rest.

Kris was going to go out of his head before they ever got there, but then maybe that was what Adam was counting on. He didn't take Kris's pants off but instead pulled him up to a sitting position again, pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders and hung it up carefully. "Adam," said Kris, closing his eyes and moaning out the word. It didn't help, it didn't make Adam go any faster, but it felt so good just to get to say it. "Adam, please, anything."

Adam undid Kris's shirt one button at a time, smoothing the lines of the fabric as he went until it was unbuttoned and untucked, exposing an expanse of bare flesh that was already beginning to flush. He paused then, rested his hands just beneath the open sides of Kris's shirt and took a few slow breaths.

"We can do it like rabbits in here and no one would care," said Kris, breathless though he'd done nothing so far but sit there. "We have."

"Let me savor this," said Adam. "We don't have to be anywhere. We don't have to go fast."

"Maybe you don't have to go fast," murmured Kris as Adam moved his hands around to push his shirt off his shoulders, hanging it up with the coat. "If you try to fold my pants, I'm going to knee you in the balls, I swear I will."

Adam just gave him an indulgent smile. "Do you really want to look rumpled when we get out?" he said. Kris had never cared before. "Or maybe I'll just leave your pants on."

"No," said Kris, and almost reached to undo his pants himself but he knew, he knew without it ever having to be said, that that would spoil this little game that Adam was playing so well. "Please Adam, please take off my pants. You can iron them if you want to, as long as you take them off."

"I wonder if they do have an iron in here," Adam said, and Kris was grateful when he didn't actually go looking for one. He was doubly grateful when Adam finally began undoing his pants, slowly, deliberately, but at least in the process of getting them off. They were cut well, cut to hide what they needed to hide and show what they needed to show, but there was no amount of cut that was going to do anything but agitate the raging hard-on Kris had going on in his pants. "I promise it won't kill you."

Kris just breathed, loud breaths in and out, in and out, as he struggled to just let Adam do what Adam wanted to do. "Adam, please, just touch me. That's all you'll need to do, just touch me."

Adam smiled at him, leaned in and kissed him so deep and so hard, then finally pulled his pants and underwear off, tossing them over a hanger and pressing Kris back down on the wide leather seat again, bare and squirming and desperate for Adam.

"Now you," said Kris, running a hand up and down his own thigh and nowhere else because he wanted Adam to be the one to touch him first. He'd had enough of his own right hand this last while and he'd been waiting for this. He'd even been dreaming about it.

"No, I don't think so," said Adam, kissing up the inside of Kris's thigh and reaching blindly for something in his own coat pocket, and if there was one person who would carry sex supplies casually in his dress clothing, it was Adam. "Let me have you just like this."

"Oh God," said Kris, looking up at the ceiling of the limo as he said it, like a prayer. "Adam."

"I'll get there," he said, licking along the crease where Kris's leg joined his body, lavishing attention on every part of him.

"Adam, please, now," he said, shifting his hips under Adam's lips, so hard it was wonderful and uncomfortable and Kris felt like he could hardly breathe with the wanting. "I can't wait."

"You can," Adam promised him, spreading Kris's legs with both hands, kissing up the other thigh. "You want to."

What Kris wanted was for Adam to make love to him, for Adam to fuck him, for Adam to do both for as long as the limo's wheels still turned, and then for as long as they could still stay inside before they started to ache with hunger and thirst.

"Just touch it," he said, "just touch me."

"I am touching you," said Adam, his slick fingertips fluttering over Kris's hole as he continued to lavish kisses on his skin.

"Touch me more," said Kris, trying to push back, trying to get Adam inside him any way he could. "Adam, come on, please, I'll do anything, give me more." Adam kissed his balls, kissed the base of his cock, kissed along the flat planes of his abdomen, and Kris swallowed hard before speaking again. "Please suck me or fuck me with your fingers or bite me or--" He panted for breath as Adam licked his skin. "--let me tear your clothes off so you can just fuck me, Adam, fuck, please."

"I don't think I've ever heard you curse that many times in one sentence before," murmured Adam as he finally, finally, slid his fingers inside. "Don't worry. I've got you."

Kris would have been mad Adam reduced him to this if he hadn't done it so lovingly, with such care in every stroke, every kiss, every tease. And now that he was inside he was going a little harder, a little faster.

"Talk to me," Adam said, and Kris uttered every plea, every curse, every term of endearment he'd ever known or ever even heard as Adam's fingers plunged and twisted and stroked inside him. And then he was reduced to mere noise as his orgasm approached, as Adam drove his fingers in deep and caught it on his tongue.

The leather seats were damp beneath him, and as Adam pulls away, as Kris shifted his legs, pushed himself up on his elbows, he slipped a couple inches, just enough to knock Adam back on top of him again. Adam just smiled and kissed him and hovered over him for a long, tender moment before pushing himself away again and finding a towel to clean them up.

And when he finished, he retrieved all of Kris's clothes again and put them back on him, hands sliding gently all over Kris's body as he did, Kris too satiated to so much as say a word about it. He reached out to touch Adam's cock a couple of times, visibly hard in his tight pants, but Adam always batted his hand away after a moment, didn't let it get anywhere.

When Kris was presentable again, Adam tapped the glass separating them from the driver and apparently it was a prearranged signal of some sort because he gave no further instruction than that.

"So where can I drop you?"

"Adam...."

Adam kissed him again before Kris could figure out what he was even asking for. "Just teasing," he said, resting his thumb against Kris's lower lip as he spoke. Kris's tongue darted out to just flick against the end of it. "You're coming home with me. I'm not finished with you yet."

"I don't want you to ever be finished with me," said Kris. "I know I won't ever be finished with you."

Adam kissed him again, sudden and fierce, and he didn't have to say anything else for Kris to understand.

Kris solo. 1200 words. NC-17. For vaguelycoherent. Contains: fingering
The Main Event

Prompt: Kris fingering himself.

Kris has never told anybody - who would he even tell? - but he's thought about this before. Actually, he's thought about it a lot, but in a kind of abstract, curious way that he never did anything about. Okay, well, maybe he's prodded a little bit once in a while in the shower, but that's hardly more than an innocent slip of the fingertips while washing. Thoroughly.

These days, though, he doesn't even have to try to hear Adam's stories, and Adam's friends' stories, and it's not like they get all explicit about it but they all take for granted that guys just do that sort of thing all the time. And the more he hears it, the more the whole thing becomes a little less abstract and a little more real. Even Adam, who, all joking aside, Kris knows actually is that toppy, has implied how good it can feel.

And Kris wants to know.

Adam isn't going to be back down to their room for at least an hour, if Kris is any judge, but he locks the door anyway just in case there's some kind of makeup emergency. He's not embarrassed about his curiosity, but being caught in the actual act is something he'd just as soon avoid. Being caught in any sexual act is something he'd just as soon avoid.

Plus, he doesn't want Adam to know that he borrowed some of the lube Adam left out in the bathroom, because in this one case Kris is pretty sure lotion isn't going to quite do the trick for him like it does when he's doing other, less ambitious, solo acts.

Once he's spread out on his bed, on top of the covers, he's not quite sure what he's doing, actually. Or, well, what the best way to do it is. Maybe a shower would've been a better idea, but he's here now, and he's got supplies and everything, and he finally just squirms down a little and spreads his legs and tugs his cock a little first, just to make sure it knows that something good is coming.

Frankly, his dick seems a little gunshy at the moment, even though there's an excited curling in Kris's belly about what he's about to do.

Then he spreads his legs wider, knees higher, and sort of cups his balls for a moment before going for the prize.

It's kind of awkward to wriggle a finger inside himself, but most of that's finding the right position to do it in. The actually wriggling inside goes pretty smoothly, all in all. And when one finger proves to be that easy, he's quick to add another.

At first he doesn't get it. It just feels kind of strange and awkward, and maybe it just isn't his thing after all. But he's not giving up just yet, sliding further down the bed and bracing his foot against the footboard for some leverage, so he can push in a little deeper, a little harder. That's a little more interesting, if hard on the wrist, and his dick is getting a little interested in all the activity down there but it's still nothing to write home about.

But then Kris pushes in again and twists his fingers to find a more comfortable position and suddenly it's like he just discovered his dick all over again. There's a pulse of pleasure coming from somewhere down there and now he's pretty sure he's not leaving until he figures out how to get it again and again and again.

And he definitely has his dick's attention now.

This position isn't working for him, though, and his arm's going to cramp up soon, so he reluctantly pulls his fingers out and rolls onto his side and yeah, yeah, that works better. He lifts his knee and reaches behind and oh yeah, he can work this for a while. He just fingers the hole for a few moments, running his fingertips over the slight swell of it, poking one inside just to the first knuckle because it's so easy and just the anticipation makes his cock twitch, makes heat pool in his groin.

If he'd ever let himself do this before, if he'd ever touched himself for more than a moment, he might've known just how good this feels, how good just touching with sure, moist fingertips can feel. But it's not long before he pushes to fingers up inside himself again, as far as they can go, curling them then realizing that everything is the other way round from this side and pushing them backwards instead.

He moves his hips and lifts his knee and pushes a little harder and there, there it is. He gasps then bites his lip hard enough that it swells between his teeth. He twists his hand round and curls his fingers and just rubs hard, sending shocks of pleasure and heat straight to his cock.

But he can't keep it up this way either, not twisted like that, so he pulls his fingers free and doesn't fool around this time when he reaches between his legs and thrusts them back in, curling his body so he's half sitting up and holding his leg up and open with one hand behind his knee. When he gets a rhythm going like this, fast and hard, his whole body rocking against his fingers, he feels like he can go on forever.

Or at least as long as it takes.

He's not even touching his cock as he comes, jerking and pulsing over his abs and chest as he finger fucks himself through it, gasping and hissing and not even thinking about what he must look or sound like anymore. He smears it with his free hand, grasping desperately at his hot skin, and he leaves his fingers buried in his ass for a few more moments while he remembers how to breathe.

Okay, that was a little more...intense than he'd been expecting. Honestly, at best he thought maybe it would add just a little zing to jerking himself off; at worst it would be a complete failure and he'd give up on it after a few minutes. He never expected that it would be the headliner.

Finally he pulls his fingers free, rolls lazily off the bed and cleans himself up. His legs are a little shaky and he still feels a little bit stretched though the physical sensation itself is fading fast and he's just left with the memory of what it felt like. He pulls his sleep pants on and stares at himself in the mirror for a moment and besides the fact that he looks like he just came back from a run, he doesn't look any different from before he started. He just feels different.

When Adam comes back into the room less than a minute after Kris unlocks the door, neither one of them says anything about the coincidence, or the fact that strands of Kris's hair are still sticking to his sweaty forehead. And when Kris finds a fresh bottle of Wet has mysteriously appeared among his things, well, neither one of them says anything about that either.

Kris/jacket. 1136 words. NC-17. For amproof. Contains: clothing fetish
Fetish

Prompt: Kris/Adam's jacket. Either him having some alone time with it and jacking off while rubbing his body all over it and having some kind of leather/texture fetish. A+++ if Adam walks in on him...

The word 'fetish' makes Kris feel awkward and uncomfortable, like something that should only be used to describe other people, even though he knows that's pretty judgmental which is something he tries not to be. It's just hard to see himself as being the kind of person who has fetishes, even after he summons his courage and stands in front of a mirror and says it to his own face. But getting turned on by a thing, an inanimate object, that's a fetish and Kris can't pretend it's not just so he can crawl back into his comfort zone and pretend that everything about his sexuality is completely average and normal.

His definition of normal has been kind of stretched lately anyway.

So okay, he has a little fetish. That doesn't have to mean he's a pervert. It just means that his brain and his body and, well, let's be honest, his dick, are wired to get wound up by something a little out of the ordinary. He doesn't need to be embarrassed about it. It's totally innocent and harmless.

At least, it's totally innocent until, in an insane, impulsive act after one too many beers with Matt, Kris breaks into wardrobe and steals Adam's jacket. Steals it like some crazy, possibly certifiable, stalker-type fan. It's wrong on so many levels, and Kris still can't help himself.

He isn't even sure what he actually wants to do with it once he has it, clutched in his arms as he stretches out on his bed. The studs prick his fingertips and he presses his cheek to the surprisingly soft leather as he smells it, the distinct scent of leather mingling with the equally distinct scent of Adam. He's been hard since he first snatched it and he's doubly hard now, but he tries to ignore it anyway. It's harmless as long it would theoretically get him off; it's not harmless anymore once he actually does.

But if he's being honest - totally, painfully, embarrassingly honest - he already gave in to the temptation as soon as he swiped the jacket in the first place. It's crazy, it's just so crazy. He still kind of can't believe he did it. Only it feels so unbelievably good in his arms, against his skin, and he's rocking his hips against the bed now. But he's not actually touching himself, and as long as he doesn't actually touch then it still doesn't count. He's not a complete pervert as long as he doesn't touch his cock at the same time as he's fondling the jacket.

Only he is, he is, he really, really is, and rubbing against the mattress isn't enough. He presses his face into the collar of the coat and lies on top of it and scrambles to open his pants, tearing the zipper down and reaching inside and pulling his cock out, tugging it desperately. The leather feels so amazing, better than he imagined it, and he rubs his cheek against it in time with his strokes, presses his nose up against it, tears his shirt open and rubs his whole body against the studded leather

It's already hard enough to look at Adam on stage wearing the jacket. After this, it's going to be almost impossible. And Kris still can't stop, his hand working furiously between his legs, no time and no desire to make this last.

He comes with a loud groan that's nowhere near lost in the folds of the coat. A groan that's echoed by a quiet-but-not-quiet-enough sound from the end of the bed. Kris can't even move for a moment, mortified and frozen, then when he finally glances over his shoulder, sure enough, Adam is standing there. That finally spurs him into motion, practically jumping off the bed and tucking himself in as he goes, still sensitive and sticky.

"Oh no," he says, "please tell me you're not really--" But Adam is really, definitely standing there. "Oh crap oh crap oh crap it's not what you think."

Adam opens and closes his mouth a couple of times but nothing comes out until his third try. "I'm...pretty sure it's exactly what I think," he says. "But I'd welcome any alternate explanations right now."

Kris so, so wishes he had one. And so, so wishes Adam hadn't chosen now to take advantage of shared room key.

"Okay, it's what you think," he says, licking his suddenly dry lips. "It's just a thing. Like, a...fetish?"

The tries the word out, tastes it in his mouth. It's still a little raw, not quite ready to come out.

"Apparently, says Adam, still standing at the foot of the bed, still staring at Kris and his jacket like he can't quite believe what he's looking at. Which he probably can't. Kris isn't sure he can, and he's the one who did it.

"I didn't mess it up," Kris adds. "I promise. I wouldn't."

"No, it's too precious for that, isn't it?" says Adam, and he doesn't sound mad. He sounds surprised and maybe even a little understanding, but not mad. "Just when I thought I knew all there was to know about you."

"You're not going to tell anyone, are you?" Kris says, holding his pants closed with one hand as he hands the jacket over with the other. "Please, Adam, I promise I've never done anything like this before. I swear I'm not creepy."

Adam examines the jacket, and Kris knows it's more to stall for time than because he's looking for anything Kris might've done to it. Or at least, he hopes that's what it is.

"Well," says Adam finally, "at least I know what to get you for your next birthday."

Kris just exhales slowly, relief washing through him. And a little hopefully-concealed excitement mixed in with the embarrassment that Adam might be serious about that gift, and not as something for Kris to wear.

"Thank you," he says, "for not being...for not treating me like a freak."

"Oh, believe me," says Adam. "I've seen much, much weirder things than this. Next time just ask, all right?"

"Oh, no," says Kris. "No, no, no, no, no. No next times."

"It's okay," says Adam, hanging the coat over his arm. "Just ask. That's all you need to do. It's okay."

He says is calmly, even soothingly, and it's obviously a deliberate attempt to keep Kris from freaking out, but it still works. Kris takes a couple of deep, slow breaths and he's pretty sure his hands aren't even shaking anymore. Which is good because one of them is still holding his pants closed.

"I...all right," mumbles Kris. "Okay. Thank you."

He still thinks there's not going to be a next time, still too mortified at the moment to even contemplate it. But Adam seems sincere, and...maybe.

Maybe.

Kris/Cassidy. 2055 words. NC-17. For amproof. Contains: clothing fetish
And Leather Makes Three

Prompt: Kris returning Adam's jacket to Skingraft on Adam's behalf, getting Cassidy to wear it and fucking Cassidy. Cassidy shouldn't be an Adam stand-in, though. It's all about the texture. I don't care who's on top, but the bottom should be wearing the jacket. Either way would be hot.

Adam's too busy to worry about why Kris is offering to do something that should be passed on to someone's assistant's assistant, which is what Kris was counting on. Or maybe it's just that he just thinks Kris knows he values the garment too much to be comfortable letting someone else take care of it. Either way, Adam takes him up on his offer to take care of it with no convincing necessary, and Kris isn't going to question it and take the chance of someone wondering just why he offered in the first place.

This is how he ends up not at the Skingraft boutique or studio but on the street in front of Cassidy's loft, Adam's tour jacket still in the dry cleaner's bag but desperately needing the touch of its designer before it goes to auction or into Adam's closet or whatever he decides to do with it next. Kris has his phone out, scrolling through numbers, but before he can dial someone takes his arm.

It's a reflexive action to jerk away but it's just Cassidy, hoodie pulled back and gym bag over his shoulder. "You're early," he says. "Were you about to call up?"

"Guess that wouldn't've done me any good, huh?" says Kris, putting the phone away again.

"Come on," is all Cassidy says, giving a kind of a full body tilt towards the building and encouraging Kris to follow him. "You might as well come up, as long as you're here, right? Or do you have someplace more important to be?"

Kris has a bunch of things he's supposed to do today, but if Cassidy's going to offer then he's going to see this through. After all, it's the whole point of him coming personally in the first place. "Nah, I had some free time," he says, "figured I'd save some overworked assistant the trip over, right? Besides, you know Adam."

"I do know Adam."

The place is pretty cool, pretty spacious, and Kris can just imagine the kinds of parties he has up here. Kris has seen pictures of the kinds of parties he has up here. He looks around a little before looking over at Cassidy, only to see he already has his hand out expectantly.

"Right," says Kris, but he's not quite ready to hand the jacket over yet, not like this. He takes the plastic off, balling it up and stuffing it in his pocket, then can't help running a hand down the front of it, the leather warm under his fingertips.

"We did good work on this one," says Cassidy, and Kris barely even registers it as Cassidy lowers his hand again. He doesn't want to think that this is the last time he's going to see it, the last time he's going to touch it. "I'm not really involved much anymore, but for Adam I made an exception. Do you want a drink?"

When Kris finally looks up, Cassidy is already halfway to the fridge. "I just had lunch."

"Perfect," says Cassidy, hauling out a bottle of wine and pouring them both a glass. Well, a mug, actually. "That means it's not morning anymore."

Kris doesn't argue the point, and the wine means he gets to stay that little bit longer without looking like he's trying too hard for it. It's sharp and a little sweet, and it really is too early for him but for this he can make an exception.

"You like it, huh?"

"Yeah, it's not bad," says Kris, licking his lips. "We usually lean towards reds at home."

"Not the wine," says Cassidy. "I mean the jacket."

"Oh," says Kris, and tries to figure out what to do with the jacket that's not clutch it in his arms for as long as he can. It's starting to get obvious. Then he snorts and admits to himself that it's a lot past 'starting to'. "Yeah, I've never seen anything quite like it. It'll be weird not to see it every night anymore."

"Well, maybe you'll see it in your dreams," says Cassidy coyly. "Or maybe if Adam decides to auction it off for charity, you can suck it up and make the big donation."

Kris blushes and shakes his head. "It's not going to go that far," he says. "It's just...got a lot of good memories."

"Oh really," says Cassidy. "Do tell."

"Not like that!" says Kris quickly. Not outside his imagination, anyway. "I just...like it. I'm going to miss it."

Cassidy finally takes the jacket out of his arms, almost gently like he's handling Kris's prized possession, or his child, then instead of taking it away he slips the jacket on. It's big on him, the shoulders too wide, the tails a little too long, and it doesn't look the same at all as when Adam's wearing it but Kris's breath catches a little anyway.

"He took good care of it," says Cassidy, taking a step closer and running a hand long the bottom hem of the coat. Kris reaches out too, runs his finger over the places Cassidy has just touched, then Cassidy's fingers close over Kris's wrist and Kris looks up at him. "I don't mind if you want to."

Kris doesn't understand what he means at first, but Cassidy doesn't let go of him and seems to be waiting for his answer. Kris knows he's hard, and he knows why he's hard, but he doesn't realize it's noticeable until Cassidy looks pointedly down at it, and then suddenly Kris understands just what's on offer here.

"I'm...." He knows he should say he can't, but he doesn't want to.

"You're cute," says Cassidy with a little shrug. "It could be fun. Just a one time thing. It doesn't have to be a big deal."

Just a one time thing, thinks Kris. Kind of like a good-bye, and when he thinks about it like that it's easier to excuse himself for wanting it.

"You do look hot in the jacket," he says, and then Cassidy is pulling him in even closer and they're kissing before Kris even really realizes what's happening. They're kissing and Kris is pressed up against Cassidy and the jacket and he really does kind of want this.

"Come on," says Cassidy, finally taking a step back, Kris's wrist still caught in his. "You don't look like the kind of boy who does it standing up."

"I could be," says Kris, but the words stutter when they come out and Cassidy's right, he's not that kind of boy, but sometimes he's really not sure just what kind of boy he really is. "Don't...just leave the jacket on, okay? No matter what else comes off."

"Don't worry," says Cassidy, pulling him close for one more kiss before they reach the bed. "I'm pretty sure I understand what's revving your engine right now."

Kris would be embarrassed except he thinks that he's not the only one excited by the prospect; he's pretty sure it's not just him, who Cassidy has probably never considered sexually before, that has Cassidy ready to go. And he knows he doesn't have to tell him he's never done this before; that much, he thinks, is implied.

He's not sure whether it says something about him, or about Cassidy, when he looks completely natural standing at the foot of his bed in nothing but the jacket. And Kris, who so far had only managed to pull his shirt off, doesn't waste any more time with the rest of it. Cassidy sprawls back on the bed then, and Kris crawls overtop of him, letting instinct take over and not thinking too hard about it. He grabs a fistful of the coat and kisses Cassidy's neck and tries not to be too surprised when Cassidy reaches down and wraps a hand around both their cocks.

"Oh," breathes Kris fervently, rocking into his hand.

"You're going to fuck me, right?" says Cassidy, stroking them with a sure hand, making little gasps himself. "I just want to make sure you're ready for it."

It's not going to be long before Kris is ready for it, and apparently Cassidy means ready for it, because lube and condoms are close at hand, and Kris is pretty sure they aren't just accidentally there. Nor does he think they're there just because of him, and that's reassuring in a way. He's never done this, but Cassidy has.

He's proactive, though, biting at Cassidy's nipple as he reaches for the lube, the edge of the jacket pressing into his cheek, the smell of it in his nose. It just makes him harder.

"Yeah, like that," says Cassidy as he splays his knees and Kris awkwardly presses his fingers into him, doesn't think just does. It's tight and hot and he doesn't remember the last time he needed to have sex quite this badly. It's hard to take his time, but he presses his face to the leather and moves his fingers inside Cassidy and he reminds himself that he wants this to last.

He wants his good-bye to be memorable.

"I don't know if you can--" says Kris as he positions himself between Cassidy's legs, but it turns out it's not something he really needs to worry about.

"I'm a dancer," says Cassidy, swinging his leg around Kris's body. "You might be surprised just what I can do."

He can practically fold in half when Kris presses into him, is what he can do, and that means that Kris's lips can not only reach Cassidy's, but also the collar of the coat. He takes a deep breath near it, then runs his tongue along the edge.

"Fuck that's hot," Cassidy hisses, running a finger along Kris's jaw as Kris tongues the leather, then some of the studs adorning it. His hips move almost on their own, pushing into Cassidy a little faster, a little harder. He might not have done this before but Cassidy has, and knows how to move to make sure Kris is moving inside him just right.

Cassidy gasps and Kris gets a mouthful of both his throat and the collar of the coat, tonguing and sucking at both of them. Kris is going to come so easily, but he's not so far gone that he doesn't remember to take care of Cassidy, reaching down and wrapping a hand around his cock, and stroking it is so easy. Kris has been doing that for years.

"You can bite me," says Cassidy and Kris does, practically on command, another mouthful of skin and leather, his teeth sinking into both. "So fucking hot."

It's sheer willpower that has Cassidy coming first, because Kris wants to come so badly and he won't, he just won't until he has to. But when Cassidy comes, his body tightening, a sharp cry echoing off the walls of the loft, Kris is done, he's gone, his breath hitches and he closes his eyes and he shakes as he comes, body pressed into Cassidy's and face pressed into the jacket.

He doesn't want to move but he has to, he can't stay like that forever. But when he pulls out and moves away to strip off the condom and clean up, he's not even sure which he's more reluctant to let go of, Cassidy or Adam's leather coat.

"Okay, you can come by and do that any day," says Cassidy, sprawled back on the bed, the coat in need of a good dry cleaning again.

"I have to go," says Kris reluctantly. "I feel like a jerk about it, though."

Cassidy just grins at him, arms above his head and legs still splayed, a sheen of sweat all over his body. "We both knew that before we started," he says.

Kris dresses quickly, before he can give in to the temptation to go again, and he's glad that Cassidy is still wearing the jacket so he isn't tempted to take it with him. "I'll..." he starts, but he doesn't know how to finish it.

"Don't tell me you'll call," says Cassidy lazily. "Just say hi to Adam for me. I think it's safe to say we'll be seeing one another again. Just remember...I make these jackets."

It's that thought that Kris carries with him as he finally leaves, and for a long time after that.