American Idol Cake Fic: Telling Us To NC-17
Title: Telling Us To
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1853
Pairing: Blake Lewis/Chris Richardson
Summary: What do the guys do when they are told to behave?
Disclaimer: Not even a slice of Cake to my name
Time Frame: A week or so before the John Mayer concert and the ‘Blake is straight. Blake is single’ talk.
Notes: Written for daasgrrl’s birthday. And she was also kind enough to beta it for me *huggle*
Blake could tell that something was wrong. He kissed Chris’ lips again, becoming worried when the kiss wasn’t returned. He reluctantly pulled back, searching his lover’s eyes. “Chris?”
“The fucking producers told me that we have to stop this.”
“This? How do they even know there is a this?”
“They don’t.”
Blake blinked, flabbergasted. “Then…” he helplessly motioned between them with his upright palm. “Why no kissing?”
Chris gently brushed past, sprawling out on the couch and rubbing his eyes. Blake followed, sitting next to him, but keeping a distance. “They want us to stop acting like we're a couple.”
“Who’s acting?” Blake playfully rubbed Chris’s thigh, but pulled back when he was shot a glare that normally meant ‘no sex for a week.’
“They think that we're trying to be seen as a couple just to fuck with the fans’ minds.”
“I enjoyed the ass slap just as much as those girls that dared you to do it did.” Blake was going to say more, but his phone rang and he fished it out of his pocket. He listened for a minute. “Look, I’m kinda busy here--” He snapped his mouth shut. “Fine. Be there in two.”
With a put-upon sigh, Blake put the phone back in his pocket and banged his head back against the couch cushions several times before rolling it to the side to look at Chris. “Busted. Looks like I get the ‘little chat’ as well.” He slowly rose and started to head for the door. Chris’ fingers brushed his hand as he walked past and Blake turned to give him a quick smile.
***
Twenty minutes later, he was back, slamming the door shut and causing Chris to jump a foot in the air.
Blake was fuming. He didn’t even look at Chris as he stalked past, heading to the bathroom and starting up a shower. The nerve! Who the fuck did those people think they were? It had taken all of Blake’s willpower not to come right out and say that it wasn’t an act. That he and Chris really were screwing. He had to calm down first as he wasn’t responsible for his actions when he was angry enough to see red.
The water was starting to get cold when he heard a knock on the door.
“Are you okay?”
Blake immediately shut off the water, shivering.
Yeah,” he answered. “Out soon.”
He paused a brief moment before leaving the shower. He wrapped a towel around his middle and rubbed another over his hair until it stopped dripping, not bothering to comb down the spikes. Then he went to seek out Chris, finding him on one of the beds, sitting with his back against the headboard, a book resting on his bent knees.
“Feel better?” Chris asked him.
Blake nodded and wordlessly crawled up on the bed, waiting for Chris to move his book before settling in the space between his knees. He leaned back against Chris’ chest and sighed when arms were wrapped around him.
They stayed like that for a while, Chris idly floating his hands along Blake’s chest, never dipping past the fluffy towel at his waist.
“What are we going to do?” Blake asked as he traced an invisible pattern on Chris’ knee.
“We have to lay low for awhile. Deny everything. I’ll ask Sligh to stop all the Cake talk…”
“Going to crush him.”
“He’ll deal.”
“For how long?” Blake whispered.
“The end of the tour. Then we'll go public.”
“But that isn’t until October!” Blake frowned, then sighed. No. He couldn’t do it. He turned around looking up into Chris’ eyes before giving his lips a soft lick and slipping his tongue inside the hot mouth.
Chris rested his hands on Blake’s shoulders as if to push him away, then slowly ran them down the expanse of back, pausing at the towel before seeking out the knot and pulling it free, leaving the fluffy towel to slip down Blake’s ass and get pushed off the bed.
Blake flattened himself against the still-clothed body and pulled the neck of Chris’s shirt to the side, pressing first his lips, then his teeth to the skin. He bit down gently, hearing the intake of breath by his ear and hands tightening around his back, nails digging into his skin. A moan of encouragement as he slowly bruised a small spot that no one else would see.
Chris finally dropped his hands away and arched up, causing Blake to make a pleased noise as denim came in contact with his stirring erection and Chris made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat.
“Did you want something?” Blake purred, amused at the feeble attempt for some friction.
“Stop fucking with me and start fucking me!”
Blake chuckled. “There appears to be something in the way.” He wiggled, making his weight known, daring Chris to do something about it. He could feel the rapid breaths as Chris slowly started losing control. They stared at each other. A glimpse of teeth as Chris fought a losing battle before finally grabbing Blake by the forearms and rolling him roughly onto his back.
Chris got on his knees, legs spread either side of Blake’s hips, and peeled off his shirt, nearly ripping the material in his haste.
Blake watched with wide eyes as the shirt went flying and Chris started to remove his pants as well. He didn’t get to see this side of Chris that often. His fingers itched to help push and pull down the denim, but he resisted, biting his lip hard.
Chris leaned down, nipping at Blake’s lips before rolling to the side, stripping his jeans the rest of the way off, then rolling back, none too gently, causing the air to rush from Blake’s lungs.
Blake coughed, trying to get his air back. “Evil man, Richardson.” But then lips were back on his, and he became aware of skin upon skin upon skin pressing against him from lips to toes. Chris pulled himself up slightly, braced on his forearms. Blake found Chris’ hands and pulled at them, trying to get the other man to ease his weight back down.
“Thought I was too much for you,” Chris pulled away to say.
“And you start listening to me now?”
“Did you lock the door?”
“Probably not...” Blake said, not caring.
Chris was up and running towards the door before Blake could think to tighten his hold. He grumbled and looked up at the ceiling, waiting for Chris to return. He felt the bed dip. “Totally killed the mood.”
A hand wrapped around his dick and squeezed. “Sure about that?” Chris asked, leering down at him.
Blake put his arms behind his head and proceeded to ignore Chris. He had to bite his tongue to keep from reacting to the gentle strokes and pulls, lips ghosting over the tip of his dick, fingers on his balls, pinching and rolling...His hips twitched and Chris laughed, crawling up his body to deliver a kiss, slow and sensual.
Ready for a change of scenery, Blake rolled so that he was on top, then twisted to the side, fishing over the edge of the bed for Chris’ discarded pants. He grabbed a condom from the wallet still stuck in the back pocket of his discarded pants, then a small tube of unmarked lube from the dresser.
“Last one,” Blake said, shaking the condom at Chris. “Need to restock.”
Chris shook his head. “Really, man. We need to keep on the down-low for awhile.” Like he was in any position for that sort of talk.
“Lack of rubbers isn’t an effective way to keep me away from you...”
“Serious,” Chris said, eyes firm. He nodded towards the condom. “Make it count.”
“Does this mean you won’t be drawing hearts above my picture when you're signing anymore?”
Chris bit his lip. “You heard about that?”
Blake grinned, all teeth, then tore open the condom wrapper. He kissed Chris’ inner thigh as the other shifted to put his legs over Blake’s shoulders. Blake rolled the condom on and squeezed some lube over his fingers. He rubbed his hands together, warming the liquid. With one hand, he spread some over his dick, while he teased Chris’ hole with the other. Legs tightened around him, threatening harm if he didn’t speed up. “Puuushy.”
“Not pushy enough.” Chris made his point by trying to impale himself on the fingers that were now massaging him. “Blake--” A finger, thrust inside him, cut him off.
Blake took his time, unfortunately for Chris. By the time he withdrew his fingers and wiped his hands on the sheets, Chris was squirming and repeating ‘fuck’ over and over. Blake smiled at the words of encouragement, shifting Chris into a better position, then eased inside, feeling fingers wrap behind his head, gripping his hair. He leaned down and kissed Chris’ exposed neck. “More?”
Chris swallowed and nodded. Chris hadn’t bottomed for awhile, so Blake wanted to make sure he didn’t move too fast...and get in his teasing quota while he was at it.
“All. In. Now. Damn it!”
Aching for some release himself, Blake slammed the rest of the way in, rolling his hips after, encouraged by the sharp high-pitched squeak from Chris. “Ready for the main event?”
“Yes,” Chris said and nodded enthusiastically, making sure his point was made, hands still twisted loosely into Blake’s hair.
Blake rolled his hips once more, and then began to move. He started out slowly, then frantically picked up speed. He leaned down, pressing the side of his head against Chris’, lips by each other's ears so that they were able to hear the in and outs of each other's breath. Blake reached a hand between their two bodies and grinned at the high-pitched noise that came from the back of Chris’ throat.
“Almost,” Chris gasped into Blake’s ear. “Fuck,” he hissed.
Just knowing that Chris was close was enough to send him tumbling over the edge. He sped up, nearly weeping at the sensation around his sensitive cock, trying to get Chris to fall with him.
Chris bucked into Blake’s hand, growling deep in his throat. Blake was doing a mental countdown, seeing if he could predict the exact time of ejaculation. He was off by less than five seconds. Only then did he relax against Chris’ chest, kissing his shoulder even as he gasped for breath, tasting salt. “And you say we need to stop this,” he mumbled.
“Fuck, Blake.” Chris finally lowered his legs, wincing, still breathing hard.
“Mmmm,” Blake agreed, tilting his head to nibble an ear. “There's a John Mayer concert coming up soon,” he whispered into it.
“Blake...” Chris warned.
“I know of a few girls who would be more than happy to pose as our ‘dates’ for the evening.”
Chris laughed, rolling them on their sides and kissing Blake deeply. “We’ll get through this.”
“I know.”
***
They were awakened the next morning by a pounding on their door and Sligh’s voice hollering, “Stop fucking around in there and come out for breakfast!”
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1853
Pairing: Blake Lewis/Chris Richardson
Summary: What do the guys do when they are told to behave?
Disclaimer: Not even a slice of Cake to my name
Time Frame: A week or so before the John Mayer concert and the ‘Blake is straight. Blake is single’ talk.
Notes: Written for daasgrrl’s birthday. And she was also kind enough to beta it for me *huggle*
Blake could tell that something was wrong. He kissed Chris’ lips again, becoming worried when the kiss wasn’t returned. He reluctantly pulled back, searching his lover’s eyes. “Chris?”
“The fucking producers told me that we have to stop this.”
“This? How do they even know there is a this?”
“They don’t.”
Blake blinked, flabbergasted. “Then…” he helplessly motioned between them with his upright palm. “Why no kissing?”
Chris gently brushed past, sprawling out on the couch and rubbing his eyes. Blake followed, sitting next to him, but keeping a distance. “They want us to stop acting like we're a couple.”
“Who’s acting?” Blake playfully rubbed Chris’s thigh, but pulled back when he was shot a glare that normally meant ‘no sex for a week.’
“They think that we're trying to be seen as a couple just to fuck with the fans’ minds.”
“I enjoyed the ass slap just as much as those girls that dared you to do it did.” Blake was going to say more, but his phone rang and he fished it out of his pocket. He listened for a minute. “Look, I’m kinda busy here--” He snapped his mouth shut. “Fine. Be there in two.”
With a put-upon sigh, Blake put the phone back in his pocket and banged his head back against the couch cushions several times before rolling it to the side to look at Chris. “Busted. Looks like I get the ‘little chat’ as well.” He slowly rose and started to head for the door. Chris’ fingers brushed his hand as he walked past and Blake turned to give him a quick smile.
***
Twenty minutes later, he was back, slamming the door shut and causing Chris to jump a foot in the air.
Blake was fuming. He didn’t even look at Chris as he stalked past, heading to the bathroom and starting up a shower. The nerve! Who the fuck did those people think they were? It had taken all of Blake’s willpower not to come right out and say that it wasn’t an act. That he and Chris really were screwing. He had to calm down first as he wasn’t responsible for his actions when he was angry enough to see red.
The water was starting to get cold when he heard a knock on the door.
“Are you okay?”
Blake immediately shut off the water, shivering.
Yeah,” he answered. “Out soon.”
He paused a brief moment before leaving the shower. He wrapped a towel around his middle and rubbed another over his hair until it stopped dripping, not bothering to comb down the spikes. Then he went to seek out Chris, finding him on one of the beds, sitting with his back against the headboard, a book resting on his bent knees.
“Feel better?” Chris asked him.
Blake nodded and wordlessly crawled up on the bed, waiting for Chris to move his book before settling in the space between his knees. He leaned back against Chris’ chest and sighed when arms were wrapped around him.
They stayed like that for a while, Chris idly floating his hands along Blake’s chest, never dipping past the fluffy towel at his waist.
“What are we going to do?” Blake asked as he traced an invisible pattern on Chris’ knee.
“We have to lay low for awhile. Deny everything. I’ll ask Sligh to stop all the Cake talk…”
“Going to crush him.”
“He’ll deal.”
“For how long?” Blake whispered.
“The end of the tour. Then we'll go public.”
“But that isn’t until October!” Blake frowned, then sighed. No. He couldn’t do it. He turned around looking up into Chris’ eyes before giving his lips a soft lick and slipping his tongue inside the hot mouth.
Chris rested his hands on Blake’s shoulders as if to push him away, then slowly ran them down the expanse of back, pausing at the towel before seeking out the knot and pulling it free, leaving the fluffy towel to slip down Blake’s ass and get pushed off the bed.
Blake flattened himself against the still-clothed body and pulled the neck of Chris’s shirt to the side, pressing first his lips, then his teeth to the skin. He bit down gently, hearing the intake of breath by his ear and hands tightening around his back, nails digging into his skin. A moan of encouragement as he slowly bruised a small spot that no one else would see.
Chris finally dropped his hands away and arched up, causing Blake to make a pleased noise as denim came in contact with his stirring erection and Chris made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat.
“Did you want something?” Blake purred, amused at the feeble attempt for some friction.
“Stop fucking with me and start fucking me!”
Blake chuckled. “There appears to be something in the way.” He wiggled, making his weight known, daring Chris to do something about it. He could feel the rapid breaths as Chris slowly started losing control. They stared at each other. A glimpse of teeth as Chris fought a losing battle before finally grabbing Blake by the forearms and rolling him roughly onto his back.
Chris got on his knees, legs spread either side of Blake’s hips, and peeled off his shirt, nearly ripping the material in his haste.
Blake watched with wide eyes as the shirt went flying and Chris started to remove his pants as well. He didn’t get to see this side of Chris that often. His fingers itched to help push and pull down the denim, but he resisted, biting his lip hard.
Chris leaned down, nipping at Blake’s lips before rolling to the side, stripping his jeans the rest of the way off, then rolling back, none too gently, causing the air to rush from Blake’s lungs.
Blake coughed, trying to get his air back. “Evil man, Richardson.” But then lips were back on his, and he became aware of skin upon skin upon skin pressing against him from lips to toes. Chris pulled himself up slightly, braced on his forearms. Blake found Chris’ hands and pulled at them, trying to get the other man to ease his weight back down.
“Thought I was too much for you,” Chris pulled away to say.
“And you start listening to me now?”
“Did you lock the door?”
“Probably not...” Blake said, not caring.
Chris was up and running towards the door before Blake could think to tighten his hold. He grumbled and looked up at the ceiling, waiting for Chris to return. He felt the bed dip. “Totally killed the mood.”
A hand wrapped around his dick and squeezed. “Sure about that?” Chris asked, leering down at him.
Blake put his arms behind his head and proceeded to ignore Chris. He had to bite his tongue to keep from reacting to the gentle strokes and pulls, lips ghosting over the tip of his dick, fingers on his balls, pinching and rolling...His hips twitched and Chris laughed, crawling up his body to deliver a kiss, slow and sensual.
Ready for a change of scenery, Blake rolled so that he was on top, then twisted to the side, fishing over the edge of the bed for Chris’ discarded pants. He grabbed a condom from the wallet still stuck in the back pocket of his discarded pants, then a small tube of unmarked lube from the dresser.
“Last one,” Blake said, shaking the condom at Chris. “Need to restock.”
Chris shook his head. “Really, man. We need to keep on the down-low for awhile.” Like he was in any position for that sort of talk.
“Lack of rubbers isn’t an effective way to keep me away from you...”
“Serious,” Chris said, eyes firm. He nodded towards the condom. “Make it count.”
“Does this mean you won’t be drawing hearts above my picture when you're signing anymore?”
Chris bit his lip. “You heard about that?”
Blake grinned, all teeth, then tore open the condom wrapper. He kissed Chris’ inner thigh as the other shifted to put his legs over Blake’s shoulders. Blake rolled the condom on and squeezed some lube over his fingers. He rubbed his hands together, warming the liquid. With one hand, he spread some over his dick, while he teased Chris’ hole with the other. Legs tightened around him, threatening harm if he didn’t speed up. “Puuushy.”
“Not pushy enough.” Chris made his point by trying to impale himself on the fingers that were now massaging him. “Blake--” A finger, thrust inside him, cut him off.
Blake took his time, unfortunately for Chris. By the time he withdrew his fingers and wiped his hands on the sheets, Chris was squirming and repeating ‘fuck’ over and over. Blake smiled at the words of encouragement, shifting Chris into a better position, then eased inside, feeling fingers wrap behind his head, gripping his hair. He leaned down and kissed Chris’ exposed neck. “More?”
Chris swallowed and nodded. Chris hadn’t bottomed for awhile, so Blake wanted to make sure he didn’t move too fast...and get in his teasing quota while he was at it.
“All. In. Now. Damn it!”
Aching for some release himself, Blake slammed the rest of the way in, rolling his hips after, encouraged by the sharp high-pitched squeak from Chris. “Ready for the main event?”
“Yes,” Chris said and nodded enthusiastically, making sure his point was made, hands still twisted loosely into Blake’s hair.
Blake rolled his hips once more, and then began to move. He started out slowly, then frantically picked up speed. He leaned down, pressing the side of his head against Chris’, lips by each other's ears so that they were able to hear the in and outs of each other's breath. Blake reached a hand between their two bodies and grinned at the high-pitched noise that came from the back of Chris’ throat.
“Almost,” Chris gasped into Blake’s ear. “Fuck,” he hissed.
Just knowing that Chris was close was enough to send him tumbling over the edge. He sped up, nearly weeping at the sensation around his sensitive cock, trying to get Chris to fall with him.
Chris bucked into Blake’s hand, growling deep in his throat. Blake was doing a mental countdown, seeing if he could predict the exact time of ejaculation. He was off by less than five seconds. Only then did he relax against Chris’ chest, kissing his shoulder even as he gasped for breath, tasting salt. “And you say we need to stop this,” he mumbled.
“Fuck, Blake.” Chris finally lowered his legs, wincing, still breathing hard.
“Mmmm,” Blake agreed, tilting his head to nibble an ear. “There's a John Mayer concert coming up soon,” he whispered into it.
“Blake...” Chris warned.
“I know of a few girls who would be more than happy to pose as our ‘dates’ for the evening.”
Chris laughed, rolling them on their sides and kissing Blake deeply. “We’ll get through this.”
“I know.”
***
They were awakened the next morning by a pounding on their door and Sligh’s voice hollering, “Stop fucking around in there and come out for breakfast!”