Fic - Dialogue of an Evening, Blake/Chris RPS, NC17
The first story I posted on Livejournal was the result of a challenge over at CakeForever, back during the 2007 American Idol season when Blake and Chris were on. These two boys were one of the slashiest things to ever hit television. I don't really follow the fandom anymore, what with their 15 minutes being up and all, but I did have a good time with this short fic.
Here we go, my offering for the fic exchange! This was written for lost_lover2790, who wanted to see someone flirting with Blake, Chris fighting for Blake, and Chris taking a more dominant role in the relationship. Well...it's got those elements in it! I'm pretty sure it's not what you were expecting, but I hope you like it anyway!
Title: Dialogue of an Evening
Rating: NC 17, baby! And, um, I really mean it. Seriously. Oh, and RPS, so steer clear if that's not your thing.
Summary: It's the dialogue of an evening, basically.
Disclaimer: Not mine. So not mine.
It started like this:
"This club is hot, dude! Good choice! I'm gonna get us some drinks. Yeah, I'll find you in a bit. Vodka tonic? Excellent."
A couple hours later it became this:
"Are you drunk? Because I'm drunk. Drunk, drunk, drunk. Too many tonics. Too many vodkas. Too many drinks with drinks and alcohols."
And a little bit later it went a lot like this:
"Mmm, baby, you're so hot. I wanna bend you over right here and fuck you. Or rip off those stupid plaid pants and suck your pretty cock, right here on the dance floor. I bet you'd like that, baby. Make an exhibitionist out of you. We'd be the hottest show in the place. Just think of all the tickets they'd sell if I fucked you on stage, fucked you until you screamed my name and came all over the stage. Then I'd pull out and come all over your back. Icing on the cake, baby."
But unfortunately, it then went like this:
"I got more drinks, babe! Where the fuck did you go? Blake? Seriously, where the fuck are you? Too fucking short…fucking short person. Probably getting trampled. Blake? Oh fuck. That little shit. He better back away from my - you fucker! Get your fucking hand off his ass! Oh, that's it. It's on, now."
And the worst part went like this:
"Get the fuck off him! Don't make me punch you again, mother fucker! I will break that pretty little nose and you'll be chanting 'Seacrest out' from your fucking hospital bed while some nurse changes your bedpan."
On the way back from the club it went like this:
"…"
But back at the apartment, it went like this:
"You are mine. Not his and not any fucking one else's. You are here for me and I am here for you and if you ever so much as touch that mother fucker again I will kill him. I love you but you've pissed me off and now you're gonna pay. I'm going to ram you so hard you'll see stars and tomorrow when you see him all you'll think about is how sore your ass is and how much you want me in it again."
The very best part went like this:
"Oooooh, fuck, yes!"
And after a time, it ended like this:
"I love you, you piece of shit."
"Back at you, babe."
Here we go, my offering for the fic exchange! This was written for lost_lover2790, who wanted to see someone flirting with Blake, Chris fighting for Blake, and Chris taking a more dominant role in the relationship. Well...it's got those elements in it! I'm pretty sure it's not what you were expecting, but I hope you like it anyway!
Title: Dialogue of an Evening
Rating: NC 17, baby! And, um, I really mean it. Seriously. Oh, and RPS, so steer clear if that's not your thing.
Summary: It's the dialogue of an evening, basically.
Disclaimer: Not mine. So not mine.
It started like this:
"This club is hot, dude! Good choice! I'm gonna get us some drinks. Yeah, I'll find you in a bit. Vodka tonic? Excellent."
A couple hours later it became this:
"Are you drunk? Because I'm drunk. Drunk, drunk, drunk. Too many tonics. Too many vodkas. Too many drinks with drinks and alcohols."
And a little bit later it went a lot like this:
"Mmm, baby, you're so hot. I wanna bend you over right here and fuck you. Or rip off those stupid plaid pants and suck your pretty cock, right here on the dance floor. I bet you'd like that, baby. Make an exhibitionist out of you. We'd be the hottest show in the place. Just think of all the tickets they'd sell if I fucked you on stage, fucked you until you screamed my name and came all over the stage. Then I'd pull out and come all over your back. Icing on the cake, baby."
But unfortunately, it then went like this:
"I got more drinks, babe! Where the fuck did you go? Blake? Seriously, where the fuck are you? Too fucking short…fucking short person. Probably getting trampled. Blake? Oh fuck. That little shit. He better back away from my - you fucker! Get your fucking hand off his ass! Oh, that's it. It's on, now."
And the worst part went like this:
"Get the fuck off him! Don't make me punch you again, mother fucker! I will break that pretty little nose and you'll be chanting 'Seacrest out' from your fucking hospital bed while some nurse changes your bedpan."
On the way back from the club it went like this:
"…"
But back at the apartment, it went like this:
"You are mine. Not his and not any fucking one else's. You are here for me and I am here for you and if you ever so much as touch that mother fucker again I will kill him. I love you but you've pissed me off and now you're gonna pay. I'm going to ram you so hard you'll see stars and tomorrow when you see him all you'll think about is how sore your ass is and how much you want me in it again."
The very best part went like this:
"Oooooh, fuck, yes!"
And after a time, it ended like this:
"I love you, you piece of shit."
"Back at you, babe."