New fic
I'm here again with my new fic. Well, it's not too new, but it's finally typed and edited and ready to be posted...
Hope you'll enjoy... or better hope you'll read... :)
Title: The Right Music
Author: draquita79
Disclaimer: This is a fiction, I’m lying!
Characters: Stéphane Lambiel/Carlos Moya, Rafael Nadal/Lauri Ylönen
Rating: PG-15
Author's Notes: Intended to be (hopefully) funny… Posted in three parts.
The Right Music
“You can’t mean that seriously, Stéphane, can you?!”
Carlos is visibly startled as he looks at his lover sitting on his lap.
“I can?” Stéphane admits carefully.
„It’s… it’s… it’s not… uuhh…”
Carlos shoves Stéphane off his knees, settling him beside him on the couch and starts pacing back and forth in his living room.
Stéphane lays on his belly, his chin placed on his palms, watching Carlos. He tries to stay calm.
For now.
“I get it you don’t like the music…”
“To like this?! It’s… terrible!”
Carlos is upset.
Stéphane grins to himself, he didn’t mean to upset him but he likes upsetting Carlos. Then his wild side reveals itself and it’s very… interesting.
Carlos inhales deeply.
“Look, Stéphane,“ he starts softly, kneeling at the couch, “you certainly don’t want to dance to this mus…”
“Dance?! I’m not a dancer, I’m a figure skater!” Stéphane interrupts him.
“Well, yeah,” Carlos rolls his eyes.
For him, it’s the same, either dancing or skating… He’s here to support the man he loves in everything he does and Carlos does support him, at least as long as he doesn’t have to learn the terminology and everything…
“So, you don’t want to skate your free… that…”
“Free program!”
Now it’s time for Stéphane to roll his eyes.
He doesn’t mind Carlos doesn’t care about figure skating too much. To be honest, he cares about tennis just enough to know the important facts but he slowly starts to be irritated by Carlos’ inability to at least remember his lover’s not dancing…
“OK, then free program, satisfied? But we’re not discussing your profession now, we’re discussing your absolutely inconvenient choice of music!”
Carlos sits on an armchair across Stéphane who moved to sit cross-legged on the couch.
“What’s so bad about it?” Stéphane waves towards the CD player.
“Everything!”
Carlos’ exclamation’s followed by Stéphane’s annoyed glare.
Carlos growls, gets the remote and switches the music off.
The young Swiss jumps up. “Hey!” and wants to switch the music on again but Carlos is faster and gets the CD off the player.
“Only over my dead body, boy!” he’s angry now.
The kid wanted to know what he’d say about his music and when Carlos tells it’s bad he can’t take it?! If Stéphane wanted him to agree with his decision he could tell first! He then could say, yeah, yeah, it’s quite good…
He looks back at Stéphane who’s pouting at him. To Carlos he seems irresistible, he would love to kiss away the sexy pout but he doesn’t want Stéphane to know.
And above, he can’t let his man to skate with this silly musical interpretation, can he? He’s the World Champion so he has to have an appropriate music otherwise it would ruin his career…
“Fine, there are many knives in the kitchen!”
Stéphane’s also angry. He can’t let Carlos dictate him what he has to do! He’s not a child anymore…
He’s his lover, not his older brother!
And he doesn’t understand figure skating!
Stéphane also doesn’t tell Carlos how to play…
But he looks so hot now… And he’s so much passionate when he’s angry…
Stéphane ponders throwing himself at Carlos and dragging him to their bedroom… or anywhere, maybe this couch… but he decides Carlos must be punished for offending his decision… Or can he get a second chance?
OK, he can.
They glare at each other, standing, none of them wanting to be the first to yield. Then Stéphane sighs.
“Carlos?” he knows if this is Carlos’ choice they’d be standing here until tomorrow. Someone has to be that smarter one.
“Yeah?”
“Tell me one reason why I shouldn’t skate to this piece of music.”
“I don’t like it!”
Stéphane holds his head and whines in desperation.
“Carlos! Logical reason, please!”
Carlos throws his hands and sits again.
“Logical? You want a logical reason? OK! The music itself is illogical!”
Stéphane just tilts his head and keeps glaring.
“OK, OK, fine! Here you are… The music doesn’t suit you! It’s too classical, it’s too noble, it’s too… I don’t know, to me it sounds so… ‘gayish’…”
Stéphane has to try hard not to laugh in spite of his angry mood. That really is a logical reason!
He sits on Carlos’ lap and lays his hand into Carlos’ hair.
“As a matter of fact, Carlos, I’m gay…”
Carlos just growls, he knows his reason’s stupid. But what can he do when he can’t find another one, except that he doesn’t like the music Stéphane has chosen?
“And you’re gay, too,” Stéphane continues, playing with Carlos’ hair.
Carlos loves it but not now when it’s disturbing him. He’s fully determined to save his lover from this horrible music.
“Whatever!” he stands up and Stéphane glances at him furiously as he almost fell on his ass.
“Stéphane, you and me being gay doesn’t mean you have to use just this music,” Carlos waves with the CD, “what’s it anyway?”
Stéphane drops his look at the floor. This is the weakest point.
“You don’t have to know…” he mutters under his breath.
“Stéphane?”
Stéphane lifts his eyes, the don’t-you-dare-say-anything look on his face.
“A ballet,” he answers quickly.
Carlos doesn’t obey the look.
“Uuuuuuuuuhh!” he wails and claps his hand on his forehead. “You’re insane! You said it yourself, you’re not a dancer so you don’t need your shitty ballet music like some stupid Russian dancer from that Small Theatre of theirs!”
“Small Theatre, right…” Stéphane mumbles but Carlos doesn’t hear him and goes on.
“You’re a man! You’d look laughable, like an idiot on the ice with this… masterpiece!” “Pfff!”
“Now you don’t know what to say, huh?!”
“It’s absurd!”
“What?”
“Your reasons are absurd!”
“Absurd?!”
“Yeah! And you’re ridiculous!”
“Oooh! Say it again!”
“Why? You heard it!”
“Stéphane…” Carlos moves closer to him but Stéphane’s insulted now, mainly because Carlos said what he also feared when he decided for this music…
“And give me my CD anyway! I need to choose the best parts!” Stéphane continues.
Carlos is also offended.
How can’t Stéphane see what’s obvious? He just wants the best for him…
“CD? Which CD? Oh, this CD! OK, here you are!”
And with a loud crash he breaks the CD. Stéphane looks at him with wide eyes. “What… why…?!”
Then he quickly recovers and sticks his tongue out at the older Spaniard.
“I have a copy!”
And with that he runs into the bedroom, locking the door.
Carlos looks at the shreds of the CD and feels a little guilty.
This has gone too far. Maybe…
Stéphane said he had a copy. Maybe he should destroy even that one…
He goes to the kitchen and takes some juice from the fridge. He grins. It’s here again. After a year of his relationship with Stéphane he’s used to their arguments. It’s never been anything serious and sometimes they even argue just to argue…
These are the moments when Carlos’ sweet, polite boy stops being the dream of all mothers-in-law.
These are the moments when his Portuguese mother’s side occurs.
Well, either in these moments or when in bed. Carlos enjoys both possibilities.
He smirks.
Of course he prefers the second one. But also that first one isn’t that bad. And usually the first possibility leads to the second one. Both of them can’t stand sulking for long.
Carlos knows from experience that in an hour or in two hours longest they’ll be reconciling.
Again.
In a very delightful way.
All Carlos has to do is to wait for Stéphane to come out from the bedroom. He won’t be there longer than 30 minutes. He has to go for his chocolate which is his biggest weakness.
And once he’s out of the bedroom Carlos has to apologize even if Stéphane always says it’s nothing. Carlos wants to apologize because he does so when he thinks it’s his fault.
Like now.
Stéphane also apologizes when the argument’s because of him. And then they have to make it up to themselves.
Carlos laughs.
He loves his boy. Well, rather man, he grins.
He loves him more than he ever thought he could love anybody. He can be such a brat sometimes but Carlos wouldn’t change him for anything.
Carlos sighs contently, sitting at the table in the kitchen, sipping his juice and after checking the time he decides to read the paper. He’s sure Stéphane will come.
As always.
The chocolate power’s stronger than his decision to pout and above it all he loves Carlos like crazy and he knows Carlos is waiting…
Stéphane enters the kitchen carefully and frowns. Nobody’s inside.
What’s wrong?
Carlos should be here, he always is.
He wants to turn around and go searching for his lover in the rest of the house when he feels somebody coming closer and two hands sneaking around his waist.
He feels a pair of warm, soft, familiar lips kissing his neck and hot breath on his ear before he hears Carlos whispering.
“Hello Bambi. Still mad at me?”
Stéphane smiles and leans against the strong body behind him but nods.
“Yeah, go away. I don’t want you here…”
“But this is my house…”
Stéphane loves Carlos’ low, sexy voice with the Spanish accent. He would love to turn around and kiss his man but he doesn’t want to give up so easily. Instead he just sighs when Carlos tightens his embrace and starts gently biting his earlobe.
“I don’t care… You were evil to me, Carlos…”
“Just a little bit, Bambi…” he agrees, “and I’m sorry I broke the CD. Forgive me, please?”
“Chéri, I…”
“Please, please…” Carlos purrs against Stéphane neck, “please…”
Stéphane turns his head and captures Carlos’ lips in a long, tender, playful kiss while he himself slowly turns around in Carlos’ hug. He buries his fingers into Carlos’ hair, holding his head still and looking into his eyes.
“I don’t care about that CD. I care only about you, mon chocochéri…”
“I love you, Bambi,” Carlos whispers before they kiss again, this time hungrily, with more desire and passion.
“Is the music really so bad?” Stéphane asks, snuggled comfortably against Carlos’ chest.
Carlos sighs. “More than bad, my little one…”
“Hmm. I didn’t like it either…”
Carlos’ eyes widen at Stéphane‘s confession.
“Then why… why did you choose this one?”
Now it’s time for Stéphane to sigh.
“Because…” he can’t resist and has to lick Carlos’ neck, “because I didn’t like the music Salomé chose and I said her that I’d choose my music alone. And then… this one was the best I was able to come up with…”
Carlos strokes Stéphane’s head lying on his shoulder.
“You’re my silly baby…”
Stéphane pouts at Carlos and he has no other choice than to kiss him.
“And why don’t you just go to Salomé and ask her to bring up some other music?” Carlos suggests.
“Because I can’t, chéri.”
“You can’t?”
“No… I can’t. Men don’t beg…”
“I see,” Carlos smiles amusedly, “then I don’t want to spoil your illusion but I can think of many times when I made you beg me…”
“Oh… I don’t remember anything…”
Carlos smirks and whispers something in Stéphane’s ear that causes Stéphane starts blushing.
“You blush lovely, my pretty boy…”
Stéphane giggles.
“OK… well, let’s say that you’re the only one who can make me beg… Because you’re mon chocochéri.”
Carlos girns. “I love the way you say that… it’s so flirty and… French.”
Stéphane laughs.
“And what about my music? What will we do?”
“Let me think a little, Bambi… When do you need it?”
“Now… Yesterday would be better, Carlos.”
“Oh… And how long can you wait, Stéphane?”
“Well… one week, let’s say. Two weeks is the deadline. Why do you…?” Stéphane’s words are interrupted by Carlos.
“Give me one week, love, and I will bring you the most wonderful music of the world…”
Stéphane’s perplexed.
“But… How… You have no taste, chéri!”
“Is it so? Then why I’m here with you?!”
“Musical taste…” Stéphane quickly corrects himself and giggles as Carlos pats his ass.
“Now, now… Maybe I haven’t but I can hear what’s good and what’s not… And besides nothing can be worse than that ballet of yours, Bambi…”
“True…” Stéphane mumbles.
“Well?” Carlos kisses his eyebrows.
“OK, you have seven days, love…”
“Thank you. Of course, you can search by yourself, just promise me you’ll listen to what I’ll bring.”
“I promise, Carlos,” and they verified the promise with a kiss.
And another…
“Carlos? Chéri, you don’t mean to leave for searching tonight…” Stéphane asks. Carlos grins.
“No way! How could I? We still have a lot of things to do…”
“Do we?”
“Sure, Bambi… We had an argument and therefore we have to make it up…”
“You obviously have some plans ready, right, Carlos?” Stéphane’s curious.
“Well, what if I carry you up to the bedroom and fuck you there? Or maybe I can bend you over this table and fuck you? I can also…”
“Wait, chéri, wait, wait, wait!” Stéphane laughs, “don’t you have any other plan that doesn’t end by ‘I fuck you’?”
Carlos shrugs his shoulders.
“Of course, I have, Bambi! I can make tea and biscuits for you and we can play chess…”
“I don’t play chess, Carlos!”
“Neither I…” Carlos grins when Stéphane smacks his shoulder.
“Hey!”
“Sure, there are many of other possibilities,” Carlos still grins, “for example you can fuck me…”
“Anytime!” Stéphane giggles, lifting his head and gently biting Carlos’ chin, then rubs his cheek against his chéri’s growing stubble.
“There are so many interesting options…” he pulls out from Carlos’ embrace, walking around him in circles, running his fingers along Carlos’ belt, “I have to think about it, chocochéri…”
Carlos throws his head backwards, laughing, settling his arms across his chest. “Hurry up, baby…” he tries to catch one of Stéphane’s hands but Stéphane escapes Carlos’ reach, jumping up the kitchen counter.
“I like the plan A the most,” he grins, kicking his feet.
Carlos comes closer and steps between Stéphane’s legs, smirking.
“And I thought you’d want to fuck me…” he says, caressing Stéphane’s thighs and ass.
Stéphane shrugs his shoulders, kisses Carlos and strokes his neck with his fingers. “I’m not as good top as you are, love…”
Another kiss.
“You just need…” Carlos pulls Stéphane closer, slowly starting to unzip his lover’s jeans, “… to learn, Bambi.”
“I will…” he sighs, pressing himself against Carlos’ hands inside his pants, “later… Tonight… Now I want you in… in me…”
He licks at Carlos’ lips, stripping him off his shirt, then taking off his own.
Carlos lets him do it, smiling.
“Eager, aren’t we? Soon, my boy, soon…” And he pulls downs Stéphane’s jeans together with his underwear, letting them drop on the floor.
“I love your taste, chéri…” Stéphane whispers and he draws crazy patterns on Carlos’ skin with his tongue.
Carlos laughs.
“Just my taste, Bambi?”
“Hmm… Yes. The rest goes for nothing.”
Stéphane giggles when Carlos growls at him.
“I love everything about you. And you know it, mon petit chouchou…” Stéphane whispers into Carlos’ ear, nibbling at it, grinning when Carlos’ hand starts gently stroking his cock.
He uses the French endearment on purpose, knowing what a turn-on for Carlos they are.
But soon his grinning’s replaced by moaning at Carlos’ delightful attention to his body.
“Good, baby?”
“Mmmm… so good… the best, oh Carlos… chéri…”
“You like it… tell me… oh god, love!”
Stéphane starts to unbuckle Carlos’ belt with one hand while his other hand travels down into Carlos’ pants, touching his ass.
“Oh, yeah…” he mumbles against Carlos’ neck, nuzzling it, “I adore… this… I adore you… mon chocochéri! Don’t stop… more, please… please… I need more… Come on, Carlos… please…”
Carlos chuckles. “See, you’re begging now…”
Stéphane pouts at his lover, growls, leans his head down again, biting quite hard into Carlos’ shoulder.
“Owww!”
Carlos buries his hands into Stéphane’s hair and lifting his head he sees a wicked grin on Stéphane’s face.
“You naughty, naughty pet!” and he kisses away the grin with hard, bruising kiss that leaves Stéphane gasping for air.
“Carlos! Take me!”
Now it’s time for Carlos to grin.
“Beg, Bambi…?”
Stéphane widens his eyes and pouts but then he licks at Carlos’ bitten shoulder. “Please, please… Chéri, take me!”
Carlos smirks, kisses Stéphane‘s head and purrs into his hair, still stroking him really slowly.
“Again…”
“Awww, Carlos! You’re… so bad! Please…”
“I’m bad… And you’re my sweet, little boy… I love when you beg… Come to me, Bambi.”
Carlos pulls Stéphane as close as possible and they kiss, rubbing against each other, when Carlos lays his head on Stéphane’s shoulder, cursing.
“What’s it, chéri?” Stéphane asks, pouting.
“We don’t have… we don’t have any lube, baby…”
“You don’t need…” Stéphane tries to persuade his lover who silences him by putting one finger on Stéphane’s lips.
“No… Stay here, Bambi, don’t go anywhere, OK?”
“Carlos!” Stéphane almost whines, preventing the Spaniard from leaving him by holding at the belt loops of Carlos’ opened pants, “you can’t leave now!”
“Bambi, love…”
“I could get cold…” he pouts.
“I’ll warm you up again,” Carlos promises, “give me ten seconds.”
“Ten?!”
“OK, eight…” And before Stéphane could react Carlos is gone, only his stomping on the stairs audible.
When Carlos enters the kitchen again he groans. The sight of Stéphane on the counter touching himself is so provocative.
In an effort to get to his lover as fast as possible he almost falls as he tries to get rid of his pants while running.
Finally they’re pressed together again, kissing, touching, caressing every part of skin of the other one that can be reached. After a quick preparation Carlos enters his pretty Bambi in one smooth stroke as Stéphane holds him tight.
They move together in well known, ancient rhythm, the air filled with moans, nonsensical sweet whispers and screams until they together find their overwhelming, mind blowing completion with the name of the other one on their lips.
Stéphane leans his forehead against Carlos’ and after a while he starts giggling. Carlos strokes his back and hips, kissing his nose.
“Bambi?”
“It’s nothing… Just… I love you, Carlos…” he grins.
Carlos takes Stéphane’s face in his hands, laughing.
“I love you too. You find it funny?”
“You’re laughing too…”
“But you started…”
“That’s it! Exactly!” Stéphane giggles again.
“What?”
Carlos is confused but only a little bit because he knows his lover does silly, childish things quite often. Mainly to enchant his Carlos who thinks it’s adorable.
“Our arguments!” Stéphane explains, “I love them… I really enjoy arguing with you, chéri…” he kisses Carlos on his palm.
“I see…” Carlos laughs as he caresses Stéphane’s cheek, “and mainly when we later make up, huh?”
“Hmm,” Stéphane purrs and smirks, “I’ve always known you’re smart…”
He lifts his arms, stretching, tauting.
“And you’re a tease!” Carlos growls, amused, nuzzling against Stéphane’s neck, “I would love to…”
“No, no, no…” Stéphane interrupts him, running his fingers through Carlos’ hair, “now it’s my turn to make plans!”
“Oh… so, tell me, baby!”
There’s this wicked gleam in Stéphane’s eyes when he says. “You could carry me to the bedroom and let me fuck you…” He wiggles his eyebrows.
Carlos smirks at the idea.
“With pleasure, Bambi,” and kisses the younger man.
Stéphane suddenly shrieks as Carlos throws him over his shoulder, laughing, patting his ass.
“You… you… Carlos!” Stéphane screams, kicking his legs and waving his hands, pretending to be scared and upset although he licks Carlos’ spine at the same time, “for this you have to find me the music!”
Carlos just laughs and carries his lover up the stairs to the bedroom.
~*~*~*~
Hope you'll enjoy... or better hope you'll read... :)
Title: The Right Music
Author: draquita79
Disclaimer: This is a fiction, I’m lying!
Characters: Stéphane Lambiel/Carlos Moya, Rafael Nadal/Lauri Ylönen
Rating: PG-15
Author's Notes: Intended to be (hopefully) funny… Posted in three parts.
The Right Music
“You can’t mean that seriously, Stéphane, can you?!”
Carlos is visibly startled as he looks at his lover sitting on his lap.
“I can?” Stéphane admits carefully.
„It’s… it’s… it’s not… uuhh…”
Carlos shoves Stéphane off his knees, settling him beside him on the couch and starts pacing back and forth in his living room.
Stéphane lays on his belly, his chin placed on his palms, watching Carlos. He tries to stay calm.
For now.
“I get it you don’t like the music…”
“To like this?! It’s… terrible!”
Carlos is upset.
Stéphane grins to himself, he didn’t mean to upset him but he likes upsetting Carlos. Then his wild side reveals itself and it’s very… interesting.
Carlos inhales deeply.
“Look, Stéphane,“ he starts softly, kneeling at the couch, “you certainly don’t want to dance to this mus…”
“Dance?! I’m not a dancer, I’m a figure skater!” Stéphane interrupts him.
“Well, yeah,” Carlos rolls his eyes.
For him, it’s the same, either dancing or skating… He’s here to support the man he loves in everything he does and Carlos does support him, at least as long as he doesn’t have to learn the terminology and everything…
“So, you don’t want to skate your free… that…”
“Free program!”
Now it’s time for Stéphane to roll his eyes.
He doesn’t mind Carlos doesn’t care about figure skating too much. To be honest, he cares about tennis just enough to know the important facts but he slowly starts to be irritated by Carlos’ inability to at least remember his lover’s not dancing…
“OK, then free program, satisfied? But we’re not discussing your profession now, we’re discussing your absolutely inconvenient choice of music!”
Carlos sits on an armchair across Stéphane who moved to sit cross-legged on the couch.
“What’s so bad about it?” Stéphane waves towards the CD player.
“Everything!”
Carlos’ exclamation’s followed by Stéphane’s annoyed glare.
Carlos growls, gets the remote and switches the music off.
The young Swiss jumps up. “Hey!” and wants to switch the music on again but Carlos is faster and gets the CD off the player.
“Only over my dead body, boy!” he’s angry now.
The kid wanted to know what he’d say about his music and when Carlos tells it’s bad he can’t take it?! If Stéphane wanted him to agree with his decision he could tell first! He then could say, yeah, yeah, it’s quite good…
He looks back at Stéphane who’s pouting at him. To Carlos he seems irresistible, he would love to kiss away the sexy pout but he doesn’t want Stéphane to know.
And above, he can’t let his man to skate with this silly musical interpretation, can he? He’s the World Champion so he has to have an appropriate music otherwise it would ruin his career…
“Fine, there are many knives in the kitchen!”
Stéphane’s also angry. He can’t let Carlos dictate him what he has to do! He’s not a child anymore…
He’s his lover, not his older brother!
And he doesn’t understand figure skating!
Stéphane also doesn’t tell Carlos how to play…
But he looks so hot now… And he’s so much passionate when he’s angry…
Stéphane ponders throwing himself at Carlos and dragging him to their bedroom… or anywhere, maybe this couch… but he decides Carlos must be punished for offending his decision… Or can he get a second chance?
OK, he can.
They glare at each other, standing, none of them wanting to be the first to yield. Then Stéphane sighs.
“Carlos?” he knows if this is Carlos’ choice they’d be standing here until tomorrow. Someone has to be that smarter one.
“Yeah?”
“Tell me one reason why I shouldn’t skate to this piece of music.”
“I don’t like it!”
Stéphane holds his head and whines in desperation.
“Carlos! Logical reason, please!”
Carlos throws his hands and sits again.
“Logical? You want a logical reason? OK! The music itself is illogical!”
Stéphane just tilts his head and keeps glaring.
“OK, OK, fine! Here you are… The music doesn’t suit you! It’s too classical, it’s too noble, it’s too… I don’t know, to me it sounds so… ‘gayish’…”
Stéphane has to try hard not to laugh in spite of his angry mood. That really is a logical reason!
He sits on Carlos’ lap and lays his hand into Carlos’ hair.
“As a matter of fact, Carlos, I’m gay…”
Carlos just growls, he knows his reason’s stupid. But what can he do when he can’t find another one, except that he doesn’t like the music Stéphane has chosen?
“And you’re gay, too,” Stéphane continues, playing with Carlos’ hair.
Carlos loves it but not now when it’s disturbing him. He’s fully determined to save his lover from this horrible music.
“Whatever!” he stands up and Stéphane glances at him furiously as he almost fell on his ass.
“Stéphane, you and me being gay doesn’t mean you have to use just this music,” Carlos waves with the CD, “what’s it anyway?”
Stéphane drops his look at the floor. This is the weakest point.
“You don’t have to know…” he mutters under his breath.
“Stéphane?”
Stéphane lifts his eyes, the don’t-you-dare-say-anything look on his face.
“A ballet,” he answers quickly.
Carlos doesn’t obey the look.
“Uuuuuuuuuhh!” he wails and claps his hand on his forehead. “You’re insane! You said it yourself, you’re not a dancer so you don’t need your shitty ballet music like some stupid Russian dancer from that Small Theatre of theirs!”
“Small Theatre, right…” Stéphane mumbles but Carlos doesn’t hear him and goes on.
“You’re a man! You’d look laughable, like an idiot on the ice with this… masterpiece!” “Pfff!”
“Now you don’t know what to say, huh?!”
“It’s absurd!”
“What?”
“Your reasons are absurd!”
“Absurd?!”
“Yeah! And you’re ridiculous!”
“Oooh! Say it again!”
“Why? You heard it!”
“Stéphane…” Carlos moves closer to him but Stéphane’s insulted now, mainly because Carlos said what he also feared when he decided for this music…
“And give me my CD anyway! I need to choose the best parts!” Stéphane continues.
Carlos is also offended.
How can’t Stéphane see what’s obvious? He just wants the best for him…
“CD? Which CD? Oh, this CD! OK, here you are!”
And with a loud crash he breaks the CD. Stéphane looks at him with wide eyes. “What… why…?!”
Then he quickly recovers and sticks his tongue out at the older Spaniard.
“I have a copy!”
And with that he runs into the bedroom, locking the door.
Carlos looks at the shreds of the CD and feels a little guilty.
This has gone too far. Maybe…
Stéphane said he had a copy. Maybe he should destroy even that one…
He goes to the kitchen and takes some juice from the fridge. He grins. It’s here again. After a year of his relationship with Stéphane he’s used to their arguments. It’s never been anything serious and sometimes they even argue just to argue…
These are the moments when Carlos’ sweet, polite boy stops being the dream of all mothers-in-law.
These are the moments when his Portuguese mother’s side occurs.
Well, either in these moments or when in bed. Carlos enjoys both possibilities.
He smirks.
Of course he prefers the second one. But also that first one isn’t that bad. And usually the first possibility leads to the second one. Both of them can’t stand sulking for long.
Carlos knows from experience that in an hour or in two hours longest they’ll be reconciling.
Again.
In a very delightful way.
All Carlos has to do is to wait for Stéphane to come out from the bedroom. He won’t be there longer than 30 minutes. He has to go for his chocolate which is his biggest weakness.
And once he’s out of the bedroom Carlos has to apologize even if Stéphane always says it’s nothing. Carlos wants to apologize because he does so when he thinks it’s his fault.
Like now.
Stéphane also apologizes when the argument’s because of him. And then they have to make it up to themselves.
Carlos laughs.
He loves his boy. Well, rather man, he grins.
He loves him more than he ever thought he could love anybody. He can be such a brat sometimes but Carlos wouldn’t change him for anything.
Carlos sighs contently, sitting at the table in the kitchen, sipping his juice and after checking the time he decides to read the paper. He’s sure Stéphane will come.
As always.
The chocolate power’s stronger than his decision to pout and above it all he loves Carlos like crazy and he knows Carlos is waiting…
Stéphane enters the kitchen carefully and frowns. Nobody’s inside.
What’s wrong?
Carlos should be here, he always is.
He wants to turn around and go searching for his lover in the rest of the house when he feels somebody coming closer and two hands sneaking around his waist.
He feels a pair of warm, soft, familiar lips kissing his neck and hot breath on his ear before he hears Carlos whispering.
“Hello Bambi. Still mad at me?”
Stéphane smiles and leans against the strong body behind him but nods.
“Yeah, go away. I don’t want you here…”
“But this is my house…”
Stéphane loves Carlos’ low, sexy voice with the Spanish accent. He would love to turn around and kiss his man but he doesn’t want to give up so easily. Instead he just sighs when Carlos tightens his embrace and starts gently biting his earlobe.
“I don’t care… You were evil to me, Carlos…”
“Just a little bit, Bambi…” he agrees, “and I’m sorry I broke the CD. Forgive me, please?”
“Chéri, I…”
“Please, please…” Carlos purrs against Stéphane neck, “please…”
Stéphane turns his head and captures Carlos’ lips in a long, tender, playful kiss while he himself slowly turns around in Carlos’ hug. He buries his fingers into Carlos’ hair, holding his head still and looking into his eyes.
“I don’t care about that CD. I care only about you, mon chocochéri…”
“I love you, Bambi,” Carlos whispers before they kiss again, this time hungrily, with more desire and passion.
“Is the music really so bad?” Stéphane asks, snuggled comfortably against Carlos’ chest.
Carlos sighs. “More than bad, my little one…”
“Hmm. I didn’t like it either…”
Carlos’ eyes widen at Stéphane‘s confession.
“Then why… why did you choose this one?”
Now it’s time for Stéphane to sigh.
“Because…” he can’t resist and has to lick Carlos’ neck, “because I didn’t like the music Salomé chose and I said her that I’d choose my music alone. And then… this one was the best I was able to come up with…”
Carlos strokes Stéphane’s head lying on his shoulder.
“You’re my silly baby…”
Stéphane pouts at Carlos and he has no other choice than to kiss him.
“And why don’t you just go to Salomé and ask her to bring up some other music?” Carlos suggests.
“Because I can’t, chéri.”
“You can’t?”
“No… I can’t. Men don’t beg…”
“I see,” Carlos smiles amusedly, “then I don’t want to spoil your illusion but I can think of many times when I made you beg me…”
“Oh… I don’t remember anything…”
Carlos smirks and whispers something in Stéphane’s ear that causes Stéphane starts blushing.
“You blush lovely, my pretty boy…”
Stéphane giggles.
“OK… well, let’s say that you’re the only one who can make me beg… Because you’re mon chocochéri.”
Carlos girns. “I love the way you say that… it’s so flirty and… French.”
Stéphane laughs.
“And what about my music? What will we do?”
“Let me think a little, Bambi… When do you need it?”
“Now… Yesterday would be better, Carlos.”
“Oh… And how long can you wait, Stéphane?”
“Well… one week, let’s say. Two weeks is the deadline. Why do you…?” Stéphane’s words are interrupted by Carlos.
“Give me one week, love, and I will bring you the most wonderful music of the world…”
Stéphane’s perplexed.
“But… How… You have no taste, chéri!”
“Is it so? Then why I’m here with you?!”
“Musical taste…” Stéphane quickly corrects himself and giggles as Carlos pats his ass.
“Now, now… Maybe I haven’t but I can hear what’s good and what’s not… And besides nothing can be worse than that ballet of yours, Bambi…”
“True…” Stéphane mumbles.
“Well?” Carlos kisses his eyebrows.
“OK, you have seven days, love…”
“Thank you. Of course, you can search by yourself, just promise me you’ll listen to what I’ll bring.”
“I promise, Carlos,” and they verified the promise with a kiss.
And another…
“Carlos? Chéri, you don’t mean to leave for searching tonight…” Stéphane asks. Carlos grins.
“No way! How could I? We still have a lot of things to do…”
“Do we?”
“Sure, Bambi… We had an argument and therefore we have to make it up…”
“You obviously have some plans ready, right, Carlos?” Stéphane’s curious.
“Well, what if I carry you up to the bedroom and fuck you there? Or maybe I can bend you over this table and fuck you? I can also…”
“Wait, chéri, wait, wait, wait!” Stéphane laughs, “don’t you have any other plan that doesn’t end by ‘I fuck you’?”
Carlos shrugs his shoulders.
“Of course, I have, Bambi! I can make tea and biscuits for you and we can play chess…”
“I don’t play chess, Carlos!”
“Neither I…” Carlos grins when Stéphane smacks his shoulder.
“Hey!”
“Sure, there are many of other possibilities,” Carlos still grins, “for example you can fuck me…”
“Anytime!” Stéphane giggles, lifting his head and gently biting Carlos’ chin, then rubs his cheek against his chéri’s growing stubble.
“There are so many interesting options…” he pulls out from Carlos’ embrace, walking around him in circles, running his fingers along Carlos’ belt, “I have to think about it, chocochéri…”
Carlos throws his head backwards, laughing, settling his arms across his chest. “Hurry up, baby…” he tries to catch one of Stéphane’s hands but Stéphane escapes Carlos’ reach, jumping up the kitchen counter.
“I like the plan A the most,” he grins, kicking his feet.
Carlos comes closer and steps between Stéphane’s legs, smirking.
“And I thought you’d want to fuck me…” he says, caressing Stéphane’s thighs and ass.
Stéphane shrugs his shoulders, kisses Carlos and strokes his neck with his fingers. “I’m not as good top as you are, love…”
Another kiss.
“You just need…” Carlos pulls Stéphane closer, slowly starting to unzip his lover’s jeans, “… to learn, Bambi.”
“I will…” he sighs, pressing himself against Carlos’ hands inside his pants, “later… Tonight… Now I want you in… in me…”
He licks at Carlos’ lips, stripping him off his shirt, then taking off his own.
Carlos lets him do it, smiling.
“Eager, aren’t we? Soon, my boy, soon…” And he pulls downs Stéphane’s jeans together with his underwear, letting them drop on the floor.
“I love your taste, chéri…” Stéphane whispers and he draws crazy patterns on Carlos’ skin with his tongue.
Carlos laughs.
“Just my taste, Bambi?”
“Hmm… Yes. The rest goes for nothing.”
Stéphane giggles when Carlos growls at him.
“I love everything about you. And you know it, mon petit chouchou…” Stéphane whispers into Carlos’ ear, nibbling at it, grinning when Carlos’ hand starts gently stroking his cock.
He uses the French endearment on purpose, knowing what a turn-on for Carlos they are.
But soon his grinning’s replaced by moaning at Carlos’ delightful attention to his body.
“Good, baby?”
“Mmmm… so good… the best, oh Carlos… chéri…”
“You like it… tell me… oh god, love!”
Stéphane starts to unbuckle Carlos’ belt with one hand while his other hand travels down into Carlos’ pants, touching his ass.
“Oh, yeah…” he mumbles against Carlos’ neck, nuzzling it, “I adore… this… I adore you… mon chocochéri! Don’t stop… more, please… please… I need more… Come on, Carlos… please…”
Carlos chuckles. “See, you’re begging now…”
Stéphane pouts at his lover, growls, leans his head down again, biting quite hard into Carlos’ shoulder.
“Owww!”
Carlos buries his hands into Stéphane’s hair and lifting his head he sees a wicked grin on Stéphane’s face.
“You naughty, naughty pet!” and he kisses away the grin with hard, bruising kiss that leaves Stéphane gasping for air.
“Carlos! Take me!”
Now it’s time for Carlos to grin.
“Beg, Bambi…?”
Stéphane widens his eyes and pouts but then he licks at Carlos’ bitten shoulder. “Please, please… Chéri, take me!”
Carlos smirks, kisses Stéphane‘s head and purrs into his hair, still stroking him really slowly.
“Again…”
“Awww, Carlos! You’re… so bad! Please…”
“I’m bad… And you’re my sweet, little boy… I love when you beg… Come to me, Bambi.”
Carlos pulls Stéphane as close as possible and they kiss, rubbing against each other, when Carlos lays his head on Stéphane’s shoulder, cursing.
“What’s it, chéri?” Stéphane asks, pouting.
“We don’t have… we don’t have any lube, baby…”
“You don’t need…” Stéphane tries to persuade his lover who silences him by putting one finger on Stéphane’s lips.
“No… Stay here, Bambi, don’t go anywhere, OK?”
“Carlos!” Stéphane almost whines, preventing the Spaniard from leaving him by holding at the belt loops of Carlos’ opened pants, “you can’t leave now!”
“Bambi, love…”
“I could get cold…” he pouts.
“I’ll warm you up again,” Carlos promises, “give me ten seconds.”
“Ten?!”
“OK, eight…” And before Stéphane could react Carlos is gone, only his stomping on the stairs audible.
When Carlos enters the kitchen again he groans. The sight of Stéphane on the counter touching himself is so provocative.
In an effort to get to his lover as fast as possible he almost falls as he tries to get rid of his pants while running.
Finally they’re pressed together again, kissing, touching, caressing every part of skin of the other one that can be reached. After a quick preparation Carlos enters his pretty Bambi in one smooth stroke as Stéphane holds him tight.
They move together in well known, ancient rhythm, the air filled with moans, nonsensical sweet whispers and screams until they together find their overwhelming, mind blowing completion with the name of the other one on their lips.
Stéphane leans his forehead against Carlos’ and after a while he starts giggling. Carlos strokes his back and hips, kissing his nose.
“Bambi?”
“It’s nothing… Just… I love you, Carlos…” he grins.
Carlos takes Stéphane’s face in his hands, laughing.
“I love you too. You find it funny?”
“You’re laughing too…”
“But you started…”
“That’s it! Exactly!” Stéphane giggles again.
“What?”
Carlos is confused but only a little bit because he knows his lover does silly, childish things quite often. Mainly to enchant his Carlos who thinks it’s adorable.
“Our arguments!” Stéphane explains, “I love them… I really enjoy arguing with you, chéri…” he kisses Carlos on his palm.
“I see…” Carlos laughs as he caresses Stéphane’s cheek, “and mainly when we later make up, huh?”
“Hmm,” Stéphane purrs and smirks, “I’ve always known you’re smart…”
He lifts his arms, stretching, tauting.
“And you’re a tease!” Carlos growls, amused, nuzzling against Stéphane’s neck, “I would love to…”
“No, no, no…” Stéphane interrupts him, running his fingers through Carlos’ hair, “now it’s my turn to make plans!”
“Oh… so, tell me, baby!”
There’s this wicked gleam in Stéphane’s eyes when he says. “You could carry me to the bedroom and let me fuck you…” He wiggles his eyebrows.
Carlos smirks at the idea.
“With pleasure, Bambi,” and kisses the younger man.
Stéphane suddenly shrieks as Carlos throws him over his shoulder, laughing, patting his ass.
“You… you… Carlos!” Stéphane screams, kicking his legs and waving his hands, pretending to be scared and upset although he licks Carlos’ spine at the same time, “for this you have to find me the music!”
Carlos just laughs and carries his lover up the stairs to the bedroom.
~*~*~*~