The Kink Diaries 3/?
Title: The Kink Diaries
Rating: R
Pairing: Nat Motte/Alex Gaskarth
POV: Third, Alex-centric
Summary: Alex never thought pens could become a sexual object.
Warning: Weird and not so weird kinks, noodles, brightly colored naughty things, Disney princesses
Chapter Warning: Writing kink
Disclaimer: You wish.
Author Notes: I have the biggest, naughtiest crush on Nat, and I have only ever seen him slashed once. I got the idea for this from a short story in the book K Is For Kinky.
It started off innocently enough. Fifteen year old Alex Gaskarth was getting someone's phone number for the first time. The boy got out a simple black ink pen to jot it down...
As soon as the tip touched Alex's skin, what felt like an electric shock went straight to his dick.
At first he'd been slightly scared. He'd jerked his hand back, apologized by claiming he thought he saw a bee, and let the boy continue what he'd started.
When Alex got home later that night, he'd overturned the small pencil holder sitting beside his notebook of lyrics on his desk, scattering pens all across the desktop. He'd stared at them for a good ten minutes before cautiously picking one up.
After contemplating if this experiment was even worth the time for a few seconds, Alex tossed the cap aside and set the pen to the back of his hand, drawing a simple circle. Unlike before, there's no jolt of electricity; however, there is a pleasant hum beneath his skin, the kind of feeling one gets when they know something sexual is going to happen. He becomes bolder, scribbling simple nothings. A smiley face, the numbers from zero to nine, his name.
Each time he pressed a bit harder, and each time the feeling got more and more intense until he's so hard he feels like he's going to come right then and there. By the time he'd stuck his hand down his pants and found release, he realized he'd written halfway up his arm.
It takes a second, sitting there in his computer chair, hand still shoved down his boxers, legs spread wide, until it really hits him.
He, Alexander Willliam Gaskarth, gets turned on by being written on.
---------------------------------
His days of experimentation are long past. Alexander is now twenty-three years old, fully aware of his kink and damn proud of it. He works in a book store (with a drawer full of pens all to himself), trying and usually finding people with similar bookish kinks. Last month he'd had a one night stand with a floppy haired twenty-five year old who liked to read erotica while Alex sucked him off. Before that, a girl who made him re-enact a scene from one of her favorite historical romances.
No matter the kink, they were all like him, and all willing to write on him.
Currently, Alex is sitting behind the register, bored as hell because it's fucking snowing outside and nobody really wants to go book shopping when there's a possibility of crashing into a telephone pole. They'll risk their lives for a new fridge, sure, but the newest issue of The Umbrella Academy? Hell no.
There's only about two or three people in the store, besides Alex and his co-worker, who is looking just as bored as he is. Alex has been discreetly doodling on the back of his hand for the past half hour, just for the thrill, when he finally decides to walk into the back room and start organizing new releases. If he alphabetizes them now, it's less work to do later.
He is about twenty minutes into his work, about to open a box full of YA romance novels when a voice behind him startles him so badly he jumps and nearly snips his own finger with the scissors he's holding.
"Umm, excuse me?"
The part of him that isn't startled is extremely turned on by the deep, sensual voice that's disrupted his work. Nonetheless, Alex turns and plans on giving this person a nice, harsh glare...
...that is, until he sets eyes on the owner of the aforementioned voice.
A messy tangle of brunette hair falls to the man's shoulders. Alex can't help but stare up into warm, hazel colored eyes. 'Staring up' is no understatement either. He's got to be over six feet, and Alex is pretty sure he can span the man's waist with his hands, he's so damn scrawny.
To top it all off, the unnamed gentleman is absentmindedly twirling a pen between his fingers. Alex can already feel his arousal building.
"Can I help you?"
Tall Gorgeous Hazel Eyes smiles, a bit shyly, and steps further into the room.
"Sorry for barging in. There wasn't anyone at the counter, and I saw you back here through the cracked open door. I, umm, I'm looking for a book. It's called Innocent Traitor."
Alex walks over to a box he's just opened, grabbing the book in question and handing it over. "A fan of history, are we?"
"A bit, yeah."
They stand there for a few moments, glancing over one another, before Tall Gorgeous Hazel Eyes speaks.
"So, my name's Nat. And I hope this isn't too forward of me, but you're really fucking good looking. Can I give you my number?"
Yes, Alex thinks this guy is just about the sexiest thing that's ever walked into his field of vision, but as soon as the words 'give you my number' are out in the air, all Alex can think about is that pen.
"Y-yes..."
Nat takes Alex's hand in his (his very sexy hands, Alex thinks) and begins writing his phone number. Alex had already begun biting his lip before the writing began, but once Nat gets to the third digit, he can't help but let out a groan.
Nat stops writing, quirking an eyebrow at Alex before continuing to write his phone number, a little more slowly this time. Alex is digging his fingernails into his palm, trying his hardest not to let another sound escape.
This fails miserably. Alexander has been writing on himself since that fateful day in his bedroom, but when another person is wielding the pen, the pleasure seems to increase tenfold. So when Nat finally finishes that last number, Alex lets a tiny moan slip out.
At first, the semi-awkward silence returns. Then Nat quietly closes the door the rest of the way before pressing Alex up against the wall, lips moving to the base of Alex's throat as he draws a line from Alex's wrist up to the crook of his elbow, causing the shorter man to let out another moan, louder this time. The pressure of the pen is fucking perfect. Nat's other hand is at his belt, making quick work of it and pushing Alex's pants to the ground.
He steps back, surveying the scene in front of him. Alex is panting, cheeks flushed, the beginnings of a hard on showing through heather grey boxer-briefs. The hand holding the pen reaches out, drawing a little 'x' across the front of the boxers, earning another sound of pleasure from Alex's lips.
Alex has never experienced this before. He's been written on loads of times, but never without some other form of touching involved, whether it be groping, kissing, or actual sex. Without his knowledge, this has someone dumbed down the experience of being written on. Standing here, pants around his ankles, with someone he's just met doing nothing but writing...Alex is pretty much a hundred percent sure he's about to have the best orgasm of his life.
The pressure of the pen becomes harder; Nat is drawing in a lazy neverending circle, smiling as Alex braces his hands against the wall and lets out a sound that can only be described as, "Nngh..."
Nat is grinning like crazy, drawing his name in neat cursive across Alex's now very obvious hard on. Alex can feel himself, getting closer, bringing one hand up to slap across his mouth as Nat tugs down the ink stained boxers and takes Alex's hardness into his hand. It doesn't take much. A thumb across Alex's slit, a flick of the wrist and Alex is coming hard, spraying across the front of Nat's jeans.
The only sounds that are heard for the next minute or so are Alex's panting and Nat wiping the evidence of Alex's orgasm off his pants. After Nat finishes, he smiles, picking Alex's underwear up off the floor and tucking them into his pocket.
"I think I'll be keeping this."
Alex can't help but smile. After he pulls his pants back up and gets himself looking presentable again, Nat steps forward, placing a kiss to the back of the hand with his number on it. Alex takes the opportunity to slide the pen out of Nat's other pocket, smiling and tucking it into his own.
"And I think I'll be keeping this."
Rating: R
Pairing: Nat Motte/Alex Gaskarth
POV: Third, Alex-centric
Summary: Alex never thought pens could become a sexual object.
Warning: Weird and not so weird kinks, noodles, brightly colored naughty things, Disney princesses
Chapter Warning: Writing kink
Disclaimer: You wish.
Author Notes: I have the biggest, naughtiest crush on Nat, and I have only ever seen him slashed once. I got the idea for this from a short story in the book K Is For Kinky.
It started off innocently enough. Fifteen year old Alex Gaskarth was getting someone's phone number for the first time. The boy got out a simple black ink pen to jot it down...
As soon as the tip touched Alex's skin, what felt like an electric shock went straight to his dick.
At first he'd been slightly scared. He'd jerked his hand back, apologized by claiming he thought he saw a bee, and let the boy continue what he'd started.
When Alex got home later that night, he'd overturned the small pencil holder sitting beside his notebook of lyrics on his desk, scattering pens all across the desktop. He'd stared at them for a good ten minutes before cautiously picking one up.
After contemplating if this experiment was even worth the time for a few seconds, Alex tossed the cap aside and set the pen to the back of his hand, drawing a simple circle. Unlike before, there's no jolt of electricity; however, there is a pleasant hum beneath his skin, the kind of feeling one gets when they know something sexual is going to happen. He becomes bolder, scribbling simple nothings. A smiley face, the numbers from zero to nine, his name.
Each time he pressed a bit harder, and each time the feeling got more and more intense until he's so hard he feels like he's going to come right then and there. By the time he'd stuck his hand down his pants and found release, he realized he'd written halfway up his arm.
It takes a second, sitting there in his computer chair, hand still shoved down his boxers, legs spread wide, until it really hits him.
He, Alexander Willliam Gaskarth, gets turned on by being written on.
---------------------------------
His days of experimentation are long past. Alexander is now twenty-three years old, fully aware of his kink and damn proud of it. He works in a book store (with a drawer full of pens all to himself), trying and usually finding people with similar bookish kinks. Last month he'd had a one night stand with a floppy haired twenty-five year old who liked to read erotica while Alex sucked him off. Before that, a girl who made him re-enact a scene from one of her favorite historical romances.
No matter the kink, they were all like him, and all willing to write on him.
Currently, Alex is sitting behind the register, bored as hell because it's fucking snowing outside and nobody really wants to go book shopping when there's a possibility of crashing into a telephone pole. They'll risk their lives for a new fridge, sure, but the newest issue of The Umbrella Academy? Hell no.
There's only about two or three people in the store, besides Alex and his co-worker, who is looking just as bored as he is. Alex has been discreetly doodling on the back of his hand for the past half hour, just for the thrill, when he finally decides to walk into the back room and start organizing new releases. If he alphabetizes them now, it's less work to do later.
He is about twenty minutes into his work, about to open a box full of YA romance novels when a voice behind him startles him so badly he jumps and nearly snips his own finger with the scissors he's holding.
"Umm, excuse me?"
The part of him that isn't startled is extremely turned on by the deep, sensual voice that's disrupted his work. Nonetheless, Alex turns and plans on giving this person a nice, harsh glare...
...that is, until he sets eyes on the owner of the aforementioned voice.
A messy tangle of brunette hair falls to the man's shoulders. Alex can't help but stare up into warm, hazel colored eyes. 'Staring up' is no understatement either. He's got to be over six feet, and Alex is pretty sure he can span the man's waist with his hands, he's so damn scrawny.
To top it all off, the unnamed gentleman is absentmindedly twirling a pen between his fingers. Alex can already feel his arousal building.
"Can I help you?"
Tall Gorgeous Hazel Eyes smiles, a bit shyly, and steps further into the room.
"Sorry for barging in. There wasn't anyone at the counter, and I saw you back here through the cracked open door. I, umm, I'm looking for a book. It's called Innocent Traitor."
Alex walks over to a box he's just opened, grabbing the book in question and handing it over. "A fan of history, are we?"
"A bit, yeah."
They stand there for a few moments, glancing over one another, before Tall Gorgeous Hazel Eyes speaks.
"So, my name's Nat. And I hope this isn't too forward of me, but you're really fucking good looking. Can I give you my number?"
Yes, Alex thinks this guy is just about the sexiest thing that's ever walked into his field of vision, but as soon as the words 'give you my number' are out in the air, all Alex can think about is that pen.
"Y-yes..."
Nat takes Alex's hand in his (his very sexy hands, Alex thinks) and begins writing his phone number. Alex had already begun biting his lip before the writing began, but once Nat gets to the third digit, he can't help but let out a groan.
Nat stops writing, quirking an eyebrow at Alex before continuing to write his phone number, a little more slowly this time. Alex is digging his fingernails into his palm, trying his hardest not to let another sound escape.
This fails miserably. Alexander has been writing on himself since that fateful day in his bedroom, but when another person is wielding the pen, the pleasure seems to increase tenfold. So when Nat finally finishes that last number, Alex lets a tiny moan slip out.
At first, the semi-awkward silence returns. Then Nat quietly closes the door the rest of the way before pressing Alex up against the wall, lips moving to the base of Alex's throat as he draws a line from Alex's wrist up to the crook of his elbow, causing the shorter man to let out another moan, louder this time. The pressure of the pen is fucking perfect. Nat's other hand is at his belt, making quick work of it and pushing Alex's pants to the ground.
He steps back, surveying the scene in front of him. Alex is panting, cheeks flushed, the beginnings of a hard on showing through heather grey boxer-briefs. The hand holding the pen reaches out, drawing a little 'x' across the front of the boxers, earning another sound of pleasure from Alex's lips.
Alex has never experienced this before. He's been written on loads of times, but never without some other form of touching involved, whether it be groping, kissing, or actual sex. Without his knowledge, this has someone dumbed down the experience of being written on. Standing here, pants around his ankles, with someone he's just met doing nothing but writing...Alex is pretty much a hundred percent sure he's about to have the best orgasm of his life.
The pressure of the pen becomes harder; Nat is drawing in a lazy neverending circle, smiling as Alex braces his hands against the wall and lets out a sound that can only be described as, "Nngh..."
Nat is grinning like crazy, drawing his name in neat cursive across Alex's now very obvious hard on. Alex can feel himself, getting closer, bringing one hand up to slap across his mouth as Nat tugs down the ink stained boxers and takes Alex's hardness into his hand. It doesn't take much. A thumb across Alex's slit, a flick of the wrist and Alex is coming hard, spraying across the front of Nat's jeans.
The only sounds that are heard for the next minute or so are Alex's panting and Nat wiping the evidence of Alex's orgasm off his pants. After Nat finishes, he smiles, picking Alex's underwear up off the floor and tucking them into his pocket.
"I think I'll be keeping this."
Alex can't help but smile. After he pulls his pants back up and gets himself looking presentable again, Nat steps forward, placing a kiss to the back of the hand with his number on it. Alex takes the opportunity to slide the pen out of Nat's other pocket, smiling and tucking it into his own.
"And I think I'll be keeping this."