Four Times Mike Carden And Kevin Jonas Didn't Have Sex
(most of) Four Times Mike Carden and Kevin Jonas Didn't Have Sex (And One Time They Did, And It Was Totally Worth The Wait)
Mike Carden/Kevin Jonas (yes, THAT Kevin Jonas)
NC17
This isn't actually finished. Shush.
1
The first time Mike tries to have sex with Kevin starts off awesome but kind of crashes and burns pretty early on. Like, Mike has Kevin pressed up against the wall of his hotel room, and he has his hands on Kevin's waist, curled in his shirt, and Kevin's hands are all tangled in Mike's hair and he's pulling, and Mike loves hair pulling, okay? It's fucking hot. And Kevin's not being pushy or anything - Mike doesn't think he really has it in him - but his mouth his hot and almost insistent against Mike's, and he's making little "uhn, uhn" noises in the back of his throat. And he's PULLING HIS HAIR. Also, he's totally hard, Mike can feel it, and, just, FINALLY.
Mike's kind of mad at himself for leaving it as long as he did. He's usually the kind to kiss first and ask questions later, so how he's been going about this thing with Kevin - this halting, sweet kind of courtship or whatever - has been really out of character. He supposes they just haven't been left alone for long enough to really get into it, you know, what with Kevin's brothers and bodyguard and Mike's band, especially William, who is a total cockblocking TRAITOR when he wants to be.
Also, Mike's spent maybe twelve consecutive hours with Kevin in all the time he's known him. That probably has something to do with the fact that they only know each other at all due to a series of increasingly strange and startling coincidences, starting with TAI's bus breaking down in the middle of LA, and continuing with mixed-up interviews and appearing on the same TV shows or being nominated for similar awards. For all intents and purposes, Mike really shouldn't know Kevin at all, much less be kissing him so fucking hotly right now, and much, much less have started some kind of awkward boyfriends-type-thing with him.
Sometimes Mike has to sit down and actually remind himself that he's dating a Disney star, like when he sees Kevin on the cover of Tiger Beat or Teen People or whatever. Or, like, he'll be walking through a mall in New Jersey or waiting in line at a gas station in Arkansas, and a girl young enough to be his own kid will look at him like she's about to stab him. With a knife. He's never been so terrified of eleven-year-olds in his life.
Anyway, point: Mike's dating a Disney star, they haven't spent more than 12 hours in a row together since they started dating six entire months ago, and now they have a whole weekend and a hotel room and no bus call tomorrow morning. Mike is totally ready to (in simplest terms) get it the fuck on.
Kevin is, too, or at least it seems like it from the way he's currently attempting to climb Mike, one leg hooked around Mike's hip and the other one only just touching the floor. Kevin makes up for what he lacks in skill with massive amounts of enthusiasm, and Mike approves heartily.
"Shirt," he manages to grunt, and Kevin says, "Mmm," against his mouth, starts tugging at the hem of Mike's t-shirt. Mike laughs against Kevin's lips and wriggles out of his shirt, dumping it on the floor as he tugs Kevin across the room to the bed.
He fumbles with the buttons on Kevin's shirt, but soon gets them undone, and pushes it back off his shoulders, pulling Kevin down on top of him so he can get some skin-on-skin going. Kevin is warm and a little soft, and he's breathing heavily, chest rising and falling rapidly against Mike's, and when Mike bites his bottom lip a little roughly and slips his thigh between Kevin's legs, he makes this little frustrated sound in the back of his throat and -
Pushes himself away.
"What?" Mike says, kind of blearily. He's not sure exactly what's happening, or why it's happening, but whatever it is, Kevin's stopped touching him, and it sucks. "What's wrong?"
Kevin is taking stupid big gulps of air, sitting hunched over a little. Mike sits up, worried as fuck, and puts his hand on the back of Kevin's neck. "What's -"
"I'm fine," Kevin says, finally. "It's late - let's sleep." He smiles at Mike, turns his head to kiss him chastely - fucking chastely, okay, just a quick brush of lips against his, and five minutes ago they had been well on their way to fucking for the first time in ever, Mike hasn't had sex since before he and Kevin started dating, this isn't fair.
"I, what? Did I do something wrong?"
Kevin huffs fondly and waggles his left hand at Mike. And of course Mike would be the only person in the world to not know that the Jonas Brothers wear purity rings, even though he's goddamn DATING ONE OF THEM.
2
Mike wakes a good half-hour before the alarm. It's fucking five in the morning and he's only been asleep since two, when the television had gone blank after the movie they'd been watching finished and they didn't stop making out to turn it off, when Mike had been warm and freshly-washed and the kind of turned on that hums slow and sleepy under your skin, not at all urgent. It's still dark, now, but the sky outside is turning a watery shade of dark blue, and all the birds in a five-mile radius of the hotel obviously have it in for him because they will not. Shut. Up.
Mike stretches, joints popping, feeling lazy and very not ready to wake up yet (even if it means an extra fifteen minutes in the shower, or ten minutes just cuddling with Kevin under the covers, which is totally his favourite way to waste time though he'll never admit it), and freezes when Kevin makes this - this NOISE and grinds forward against his thigh.
"Kevin?" he asks, voice rough with sleep. Kevin doesn't answer, just presses his hips forward again, making that same little "nyah" and shivering all over, and Mike just thinks, OH. Because Kevin's dreaming, and he's hard, and he's making the sexiest sounds Mike has heard in his entire life, okay, and Mike's been waiting for Kevin, he has. He likes Kevin a whole lot - like, house in the suburbs, adopting puppies, going to church on Sundays just because it means something to kevin, like. He doesn't want to screw this up, at all, and part of that is waiting. Not for marriage, Kevin had told him - which is fucking awesome, because it doesn't look like it's gonna be legal anywhere Mike wants to live in the near future - just for him to be ready.
But - Kevin slings a leg over Mike's, and rolls his hips, and makes that noise again, and Mike is only human. He is so fucking hard he can hardly think. Basically, he has two options - he can extract himself from the tangle of Kevin and blankets he's in and go jerk off in the shower. Or he can stay right where he is, put one hand on Kevin's back, and fucking -
Wait until Kevin wakes up and looks at him with those stupid big eyes, so hurt that Mike would take something like that from him. Jesus. Mike can be an asshole sometimes, but he's not a fucking - not a rapist, or anything.
He takes a couple of deep breaths, presses the heel of his hand over his dick once, real quick, and starts untangling himself from Kevin. He's halfway out of bed when Kevin snuffles and rolls over, eyes fluttering open.
"Where're you going?"
"Shower," Mike says, and nods at the clock. "Sorry I woke you."
"Mm," Kevin mumbles, and for a moment Mike is certain that he's going to say something like, "Mind if I join you?" But he just smiles sleepily at Mike and yawns. "Don't use all the hot water."
Mike would like to say that he manages to talk himself down once he's in the bathroom, but that would be a lie. He leans up against the wall of the shower and uses the extra ten minutes or so to jerk off nice and slow, thinking of Kevin's mouth, his hands, his soft little stomach and the cut of his hips.
In his mind, Kevin wakes up first. Maybe he'd go down on Mike, wake him up with his mouth sliding wetly over his cock. It would be his first time, of course, and he wouldn't be very good at it - licking carefully at Mike's dick, sucking gently on the tip, unsure of how to go about anything. But when Mike woke up properly he would help out, telling him how hard to suck or how deep to take it, and it would be so good, just because it was Kevin it would be good -
Or maybe Kevin would jerk him off, the way he jerks himself off when he's alone, curling around Mike and reaching around to rub at his cock, pulling it out of his boxers and stroking roughly a couple of times. He'd lick the palm of his hand and go back again, and Mike would wake up pressing back against Kevin's hard-on, right on the edge of orgasm. And he'd gasp Kevin's name, start to say something, and - and -
Or Mike could wake up to Kevin hovering over his hips, three fingers pressing into his ass, prepping himself for Mike's dick, and Mike would groan low in his throat just at the sight - grab at Kevin's hips and pull him down - and Kevin would love it, he'd be making so much noise, babbling at Mike or telling him how good it felt or -
Mike comes with Kevin's name on his lips. He spends a few moments just standing there, leaning against the shower wall and feeling the water running hot over his face and chest, coming down.
When he finally gets out of the bathroom, Kevin's up, glasses on, hair all over the place. He looks to be concentrating very hard on his cup of orange juice, and when Mike leans in for a good morning kiss, he turns pink.
Mike decides not to tease him.
3
Kevin is really, stupidly, falling down drunk. The kind of drunk caused by drinks with little umbrellas and Gabe Saporta. It takes him thirty minutes to find his way back from the bathroom. He would have been quicker, but he was waylayed in the kitchen by someone very short and covered in tattoos, who looked him over, said "You look thirsty," and gave him a glass. A full one! With a little umbrella in it! He can start a collection.
He walks very slowly back to the couch he came from, mostly because he's not sure his legs will hold him up if he walks any faster, and sits down in the tiny space between Victoria and Mike.
Mike's drunk too, but he's not as drunk. Probably because he's been drinking beers while Kevin's been drinking something hot pink and sticky-looking that smells like a single strawberry floating in a swimming pool of pure alcohol. Also, Mike is 26. He is in the Academy Is.... He can hold his drink, okay? Kevin, on the other hand, is in the Jonas Brothers. Mike doesn't think he can remember him drinking more than a single glass of wine when they visited his family last Christmas.
"Hey, you," he says when Kevin slides into the space next to him. "Where've you been all this time?"
"I got lost," Kevin says, grinning sheepishly. Mike pets the side of his head absently and goes back to his conversation with Victoria - some kind of stupid tour story everybody around seems to think is the most hilarious thing on earth. Kevin snuffles a little and settles into Mike's side, sipping at his drink and almost totally zoning out. Everything feels so much warmer right now. Kind of fuzzy. Mike's side is burning through the two layers of t-shirt separating them.
Mike smells really good, too, and, like, Kevin knew that, but he never really KNEW it. Like, whenever he's around Mike, he's aware that he smells like soap and rain and alcohol and sweat and just really, really good, but he's never noticed it, never just breathed it in.
"Dude. Are you sniffing me?"
Kevin looks up at Mike. He is so good looking. Really. Like, Kevin's breath catches in his throat and he actually has to gasp good looking. Kevin puts his hand up, slowly, like he's underwater, and touches Mike's face, and jesus. He even feels good. His skin is rough with stubble and so, so warm, and Kevin just wants to taste him so he leans up and presses his lips to Mike's cheek, drags his open mouth across Mike's chin, over his throat. He's vaguely aware of people laughing, talking loudly, and he can feel - rather than hear - Mike talking, but he doesn't know what he's saying.
"Mike," Kevin says, and, wow. He didn't know his voice could even sound like that, all low and rough. "Mike," he repeats, just to hear himself again, "You're really hot tonight, Mike."
Mike's hands are heavy on his shoulders. "And you're really drunk," Mike says, right in his ear. Kevin shivers all over and his eyes slip shut, and that's when Mike stands up and Kevin falls foward. He has to flail around a little to get his balance back, and then Mike's helping him up, "Time to go, I think," wrapping his arm around his waist and steering him towards the door.
Kevin kisses Mike in the cab, curls his hands in the front of his shirt and holds Mike against him, small, sweet kisses at first that evolve slowly until Kevin's panting against Mike's mouth, moving restlessly against him. Mike keeps pulling back to talk to him, just little things like "You had fun, then," or "You're in a good mood" or just "That feels really good, Kevin." Kevin's getting a little frustrated, though, because he doesn't want to talk, he just wants Mike to make out with him. And maybe touch his dick.
Mike manages to get Kevin out of the cab and into the house without causing too much damage, helps him through the hall and into the bedroom. It's no mean feat. Kevin is taking every opportunity to put his mouth on Mike, biting at his neck while he slides his hands up under Mike's shirt.
Mike says, "Let's get you undressed," and Kevin jerks a little and moans kinda loudly even as his hands go to the hem of his shirt. Mike helps him get his shirt off, and his shoes, and his jeans, then strips down to his boxers himself. Kevin flattens himself against Mike. There's just so much skin.
The room is dark, and Mike pulls at Kevin until he falls to the bed with him, kicks at the covers until they're covering both of them decently. Kevin presses himself flush against Mike's side, licking at his mouth until Mike reciprocates. Kevin's hard, has been since god knows when, and he can feel Mike against his hip. He rocks forward and gasps at the feeling. Mike groans, and his hands come up to frame Kevin's waist.
"Kevin, no."
"Wha'?"
Mike's hands are really nice, Kevin decides. They're just the right size, and all callused from playing guitar. They draw patterns on his back while Mike speaks to him, quietly, even though there's nobody else in the house.
"You don't actually want this," Mike says, and Kevin shakes his head because no, he really, really does; "You're drunk, and you don't know what you want right now, and I'm flattered and everything - obviously -" Mike laughs low, and Kevin smiles and smooths his hand down his chest to cup his dick, "-But." Mike takes his wrist gently and moves it away. "I'd rather you not do something you regret in the morning."
"'Mnot gonna regret it," Kevin says, slurring the words together. "Love you. You're it."
"You're it for me too, Kev," Mike says, sounding almost sweet (for him, at least). "But, you know - um. Like. 'True Love Waits', and all that shit."
"I don't want to wait," Kevin says, "I want you now. I want you to touch me, please, Mike, I just want your hand -"
"Nope," Mike says. At least he sounds a little regretful. The bastard.
"I hope you die of fu- I hope you die of blue balls," Kevin spits, and turns over.
When he wakes up, the bed is empty next to him; he can hear Mike moving around in the kitchen, the radio turned low on some classic rock station. Something smells good, but the instant he moves, his head splits open and something he ate last night starts trying to get out of his mouth. So he lies very, very still, and listens to Mike clattering about, singing snatches of lyrics to AC/DC.
When he wakes again, it's because Mike's hand is on his shoulder. Kevin blinks at him blearily and kind of wants to die. Mike has a plate of waffles in one hand, a steaming mug in the other, and the wide smirk on his face juxtaposed against the apparent breakfast in bed is the most terrifying thing Kevin has ever seen. "'M sorry," he squeaks, clutching the blankets to his chest, "I didn't-"
Mike laughs. "Shut up," he says fondly, and offers the waffles to Kevin. They're almost perfect, surprisingly, and Kevin can't help but make a rather embarrassing noise around the first mouthful. Mike just grins lazily and takes another gulp of coffee.
4
Kevin's been on tour for the past three months non-stop and it's gotten to that point that Mike's been arranging the pillows in a vaguely Kevin-like shape before he goes to sleep, just so he has something to hold on to. They're not as good as the real thing, of course; they don't smell like new stationary and apple shampoo, and they don't squeak when Mike makes vague innuendos at them, and they definitely don't kiss back. (Not that Mike's tried, or anything.)
Mike's fully aware that he's getting pathetic:
(Basically Kevin comes home early while Mike's being lonely and self-pitying and Mike pretty much jumps him, and then they snuggle on the couch with all their clothes totally still on.)
[And one time they did]
The weirdest thing about dating Kevin Jonas isn't the fact that Mike's suddenly on the cover of teenie magazines, or that eleven year old girls everywhere suddenly have it out for him, or even that he's gone for a year, while being in a solid relationship, without having sex except for the kind that gets him pretty well acquainted with his right hand. The weirdest thing is that dating Kevin Jonas has somehow turned Mike into a total girl, and he's not so sure he's cool with that.
For example: Mike now makes breakfast in bed for his boyfriend, apparently. He spends hours trying to create the perfect waffles, slicing strawberries and whipping cream (because whip from a can is nowhere near good enough for Kevin, okay, they put all this nasty preservative shit in it and no way is Mike letting Kevin risk getting some kind of chemical sickness from fucking WHIP CREAM). And then, once he's totally messed up the kitchen and wasted tonnes of flour and milk and almost totalled the wafflemaker, he goes through to the bedroom and actually SITS and FLIRTS and MAKES EYES at Kevin, which he's never done for anyone else he's gone out with, ever. Even if they had gotten to the point of living together. Even if they'd slept in the same bed. Making breakfast in bed is just not the kind of thing Mike Carden, Pre-Jonas, would do.
Also for example: When Kevin gets sick, Mike gets worried. Like, really worried. Not just "oh I hope I don't get sick either" worried, but full-on home-made chicken soup worried, cool washcloth and cold medicine worried, "OH GOD HE'S SNEEZING MOM WHAT DO I DO NOW" worried. Mike curls up behind Kevin in bed and rubs little circles on Kevin's stomach, muttering absolutely nothing of importance and kissing the back of his neck whenever Kevin's breathing goes funny. He strips Kevin's shirt off and turns him over and rubs the ache out of his muscles, and Kevin moans low and goes all soft and boneless against the matress. (When Mike gets sick a week later, Kevin feeds him soup that's ten times better than the stuff Mike made him, and pets his head and lets him watch movies with actual swearing in them WHILE HE'S IN THE SAME ROOM.)
Also for example: Mike is totally down with snuggling now. Before, he was more of a one-arm hug, maybe a little bit of cuddling after sex kind of guy. But now he's curling up with Kevin on the couch to watch a movie, spooning as soon as he gets into bed, holding Kevin's hand in public, sneaking kisses behind the waiter's back whenever they go out to dinner. Mike's never really felt the need for that kind of physical closeness before. Maybe it's because they're not having sex, or whatever, but having Kevin pressed up against his side even though there's plenty of room on the couch, or having Kevin's hands curled gently around his wrists while they sleep, is suddenly a huge deal for him. It's awesome. It makes him smile like an idiot and forget what he's saying in the middle of a sentence, and it makes pretty much every single one of his labelmates laugh at him behind his back but he doesn't even care.
So anyway. Mike and Kevin come in from grocery shopping and Kevin says, "I think I want you to, um, you know," like he was going for smooth but then lost it halfway in. He's turning pink and it's kind of adorable and Mike grins at him and kisses him quick while he goes past to start putting the groceries away, and says, "No, I don't actually know," not really expecting anything too shocking. But Kevin's like, "Tonight. I want you to. You know. Tonight." and Mike drops the bag he's holding. The bag splits and food spills out over the floor and Kevin's like, "Yeah, I definitely want you to."
The thing is, it's only two in the afternoon, and they don't go to bed until eleven at the fucking earliest, and Mike spends the whole day unbelievably, blindingly hard. He doesn't even know how he's going to last when he's inside Kevin at last, god, and he doesn't want to embarrass himself and oh jesus why couldn't they have just worked their way up here like most people do? He hasn't had sex in over a year, it's going to be terrible, but oh, god, he hasn't had sex in over a year and now he's going to be having sex with KEVIN. It's going to be AWESOME.
And then they have sex and it's totally awkward, because it's the first time anyone's ever touched Kevin's dick (other than himeslf) and he comes as soon as Mike gets his mouth on him. Then, of course, he's all angsty about it, like, "I didn't want it to happen like that I'm so sorry let me make it up to you" and he's SO BAD at blowjobs, Mike would be laughing if he wasn't so terrified that Kevin was going to do something wrong and he would end up dickless.
Mike grabs Kevin's shoulders and hauls him back up, kisses him deep and dirty (and at least Kevin's good at this, they've been doing it long enough) and eventually he goes to Kevin, "I'm gonna finger you now," and Kevin goes "Nyaaaaah" against the side of Mike's mouth, like he's forgotten how to speak. So Mike gets Kevin on his back with his knees bent and his feet flat on the bed, and he slicks up his fingers and presses one into Kevin really slowly because he knows that Kevin is secretly freaking out about it.
Kevin's mostly silent, which is strange, because he's so responsive when they're making out, with his little gasps and half-moans. Mike clears his throat, "Um, you doing okay?" and Kevin nods but doesn't say anything. Mike figures it's just because it's this huge occasion for him, something totally new, and maybe he's nervous, maybe he's getting some strange kind of - performance anxiety or stage fright or something. So he pets at Kevin's hip and pulls his finger out, sliding two back in its place. And Kevin's still totally silent (secretly, he's focussing on breathing steadily, in, out, in, do not moan, Jonas, you're a stronger man than that) until Mike curls his fingers up and then Kevin manages to choke on a breath in and make this ridiculous strangled kind of noise.
Mike says "You're okay?" and Kevin goes "Yes, yeah, sorry," and Mike smirks and bites his shoulder, curls his fingers again and listens to Kevin's ragged breath.
Eventually Kevin says, "Mi-ike," all drawn out on a moan, and Mike totally copies him, "Wha-at?" Kevin's all breathless and squirmy and he says "Can you - can you just do it?" and Mike laughs at him, of course, because there's nothing else to do. Kevin scowls, "Don't laugh at me," and Mike says, "I'm not, I'm not. Okay."
Mike pushes in slow, slow, slow. It's so fucking hard, because HE'S so fucking hard, and he hasn't had sex in more than a year, and Kevin's so fucking hot spread out below him with his head tipped back and his eyes wide and his face and chest all pink. His mouth's open and Mike can hear him breathing, right up until he's all the way in and then the only thing he can hear is his blood rushing in his ears and he grits out, "This is going to be over way too soon, sorry."
Kevin looks at him with his eyes all huge and Mike is reminded absurdly of tiny lemurs and bush babies and a bunch of really cute things and he snorts out a laugh and says, "You're fucking adorable," and Kevin says "What?" on a high note. Mike shakes his head and rocks a little and even that's too fucking much, but Kevin's rocking back against him and running his hands all over Mike's back like he's just realised he's actually allowed to touch him. Mike is going to be so embarrassed later, but it takes him maybe three minutes of actually being all the way inside Kevin before he comes. It's totally okay, though, because Kevin comes like two seconds after Mike.
After, Kevin gets all clingy. He's always clingy, though. Mike clings back, a tiny bit, and kisses him and tries to talk to him about the kind of stupid, mundane stuff he used to talk about after sex before. Kevin smiles at him dopily and goes to sleep. Mike rolls his eyes, but he's asleep pretty quick, too.
Mike Carden/Kevin Jonas (yes, THAT Kevin Jonas)
NC17
This isn't actually finished. Shush.
1
The first time Mike tries to have sex with Kevin starts off awesome but kind of crashes and burns pretty early on. Like, Mike has Kevin pressed up against the wall of his hotel room, and he has his hands on Kevin's waist, curled in his shirt, and Kevin's hands are all tangled in Mike's hair and he's pulling, and Mike loves hair pulling, okay? It's fucking hot. And Kevin's not being pushy or anything - Mike doesn't think he really has it in him - but his mouth his hot and almost insistent against Mike's, and he's making little "uhn, uhn" noises in the back of his throat. And he's PULLING HIS HAIR. Also, he's totally hard, Mike can feel it, and, just, FINALLY.
Mike's kind of mad at himself for leaving it as long as he did. He's usually the kind to kiss first and ask questions later, so how he's been going about this thing with Kevin - this halting, sweet kind of courtship or whatever - has been really out of character. He supposes they just haven't been left alone for long enough to really get into it, you know, what with Kevin's brothers and bodyguard and Mike's band, especially William, who is a total cockblocking TRAITOR when he wants to be.
Also, Mike's spent maybe twelve consecutive hours with Kevin in all the time he's known him. That probably has something to do with the fact that they only know each other at all due to a series of increasingly strange and startling coincidences, starting with TAI's bus breaking down in the middle of LA, and continuing with mixed-up interviews and appearing on the same TV shows or being nominated for similar awards. For all intents and purposes, Mike really shouldn't know Kevin at all, much less be kissing him so fucking hotly right now, and much, much less have started some kind of awkward boyfriends-type-thing with him.
Sometimes Mike has to sit down and actually remind himself that he's dating a Disney star, like when he sees Kevin on the cover of Tiger Beat or Teen People or whatever. Or, like, he'll be walking through a mall in New Jersey or waiting in line at a gas station in Arkansas, and a girl young enough to be his own kid will look at him like she's about to stab him. With a knife. He's never been so terrified of eleven-year-olds in his life.
Anyway, point: Mike's dating a Disney star, they haven't spent more than 12 hours in a row together since they started dating six entire months ago, and now they have a whole weekend and a hotel room and no bus call tomorrow morning. Mike is totally ready to (in simplest terms) get it the fuck on.
Kevin is, too, or at least it seems like it from the way he's currently attempting to climb Mike, one leg hooked around Mike's hip and the other one only just touching the floor. Kevin makes up for what he lacks in skill with massive amounts of enthusiasm, and Mike approves heartily.
"Shirt," he manages to grunt, and Kevin says, "Mmm," against his mouth, starts tugging at the hem of Mike's t-shirt. Mike laughs against Kevin's lips and wriggles out of his shirt, dumping it on the floor as he tugs Kevin across the room to the bed.
He fumbles with the buttons on Kevin's shirt, but soon gets them undone, and pushes it back off his shoulders, pulling Kevin down on top of him so he can get some skin-on-skin going. Kevin is warm and a little soft, and he's breathing heavily, chest rising and falling rapidly against Mike's, and when Mike bites his bottom lip a little roughly and slips his thigh between Kevin's legs, he makes this little frustrated sound in the back of his throat and -
Pushes himself away.
"What?" Mike says, kind of blearily. He's not sure exactly what's happening, or why it's happening, but whatever it is, Kevin's stopped touching him, and it sucks. "What's wrong?"
Kevin is taking stupid big gulps of air, sitting hunched over a little. Mike sits up, worried as fuck, and puts his hand on the back of Kevin's neck. "What's -"
"I'm fine," Kevin says, finally. "It's late - let's sleep." He smiles at Mike, turns his head to kiss him chastely - fucking chastely, okay, just a quick brush of lips against his, and five minutes ago they had been well on their way to fucking for the first time in ever, Mike hasn't had sex since before he and Kevin started dating, this isn't fair.
"I, what? Did I do something wrong?"
Kevin huffs fondly and waggles his left hand at Mike. And of course Mike would be the only person in the world to not know that the Jonas Brothers wear purity rings, even though he's goddamn DATING ONE OF THEM.
2
Mike wakes a good half-hour before the alarm. It's fucking five in the morning and he's only been asleep since two, when the television had gone blank after the movie they'd been watching finished and they didn't stop making out to turn it off, when Mike had been warm and freshly-washed and the kind of turned on that hums slow and sleepy under your skin, not at all urgent. It's still dark, now, but the sky outside is turning a watery shade of dark blue, and all the birds in a five-mile radius of the hotel obviously have it in for him because they will not. Shut. Up.
Mike stretches, joints popping, feeling lazy and very not ready to wake up yet (even if it means an extra fifteen minutes in the shower, or ten minutes just cuddling with Kevin under the covers, which is totally his favourite way to waste time though he'll never admit it), and freezes when Kevin makes this - this NOISE and grinds forward against his thigh.
"Kevin?" he asks, voice rough with sleep. Kevin doesn't answer, just presses his hips forward again, making that same little "nyah" and shivering all over, and Mike just thinks, OH. Because Kevin's dreaming, and he's hard, and he's making the sexiest sounds Mike has heard in his entire life, okay, and Mike's been waiting for Kevin, he has. He likes Kevin a whole lot - like, house in the suburbs, adopting puppies, going to church on Sundays just because it means something to kevin, like. He doesn't want to screw this up, at all, and part of that is waiting. Not for marriage, Kevin had told him - which is fucking awesome, because it doesn't look like it's gonna be legal anywhere Mike wants to live in the near future - just for him to be ready.
But - Kevin slings a leg over Mike's, and rolls his hips, and makes that noise again, and Mike is only human. He is so fucking hard he can hardly think. Basically, he has two options - he can extract himself from the tangle of Kevin and blankets he's in and go jerk off in the shower. Or he can stay right where he is, put one hand on Kevin's back, and fucking -
Wait until Kevin wakes up and looks at him with those stupid big eyes, so hurt that Mike would take something like that from him. Jesus. Mike can be an asshole sometimes, but he's not a fucking - not a rapist, or anything.
He takes a couple of deep breaths, presses the heel of his hand over his dick once, real quick, and starts untangling himself from Kevin. He's halfway out of bed when Kevin snuffles and rolls over, eyes fluttering open.
"Where're you going?"
"Shower," Mike says, and nods at the clock. "Sorry I woke you."
"Mm," Kevin mumbles, and for a moment Mike is certain that he's going to say something like, "Mind if I join you?" But he just smiles sleepily at Mike and yawns. "Don't use all the hot water."
Mike would like to say that he manages to talk himself down once he's in the bathroom, but that would be a lie. He leans up against the wall of the shower and uses the extra ten minutes or so to jerk off nice and slow, thinking of Kevin's mouth, his hands, his soft little stomach and the cut of his hips.
In his mind, Kevin wakes up first. Maybe he'd go down on Mike, wake him up with his mouth sliding wetly over his cock. It would be his first time, of course, and he wouldn't be very good at it - licking carefully at Mike's dick, sucking gently on the tip, unsure of how to go about anything. But when Mike woke up properly he would help out, telling him how hard to suck or how deep to take it, and it would be so good, just because it was Kevin it would be good -
Or maybe Kevin would jerk him off, the way he jerks himself off when he's alone, curling around Mike and reaching around to rub at his cock, pulling it out of his boxers and stroking roughly a couple of times. He'd lick the palm of his hand and go back again, and Mike would wake up pressing back against Kevin's hard-on, right on the edge of orgasm. And he'd gasp Kevin's name, start to say something, and - and -
Or Mike could wake up to Kevin hovering over his hips, three fingers pressing into his ass, prepping himself for Mike's dick, and Mike would groan low in his throat just at the sight - grab at Kevin's hips and pull him down - and Kevin would love it, he'd be making so much noise, babbling at Mike or telling him how good it felt or -
Mike comes with Kevin's name on his lips. He spends a few moments just standing there, leaning against the shower wall and feeling the water running hot over his face and chest, coming down.
When he finally gets out of the bathroom, Kevin's up, glasses on, hair all over the place. He looks to be concentrating very hard on his cup of orange juice, and when Mike leans in for a good morning kiss, he turns pink.
Mike decides not to tease him.
3
Kevin is really, stupidly, falling down drunk. The kind of drunk caused by drinks with little umbrellas and Gabe Saporta. It takes him thirty minutes to find his way back from the bathroom. He would have been quicker, but he was waylayed in the kitchen by someone very short and covered in tattoos, who looked him over, said "You look thirsty," and gave him a glass. A full one! With a little umbrella in it! He can start a collection.
He walks very slowly back to the couch he came from, mostly because he's not sure his legs will hold him up if he walks any faster, and sits down in the tiny space between Victoria and Mike.
Mike's drunk too, but he's not as drunk. Probably because he's been drinking beers while Kevin's been drinking something hot pink and sticky-looking that smells like a single strawberry floating in a swimming pool of pure alcohol. Also, Mike is 26. He is in the Academy Is.... He can hold his drink, okay? Kevin, on the other hand, is in the Jonas Brothers. Mike doesn't think he can remember him drinking more than a single glass of wine when they visited his family last Christmas.
"Hey, you," he says when Kevin slides into the space next to him. "Where've you been all this time?"
"I got lost," Kevin says, grinning sheepishly. Mike pets the side of his head absently and goes back to his conversation with Victoria - some kind of stupid tour story everybody around seems to think is the most hilarious thing on earth. Kevin snuffles a little and settles into Mike's side, sipping at his drink and almost totally zoning out. Everything feels so much warmer right now. Kind of fuzzy. Mike's side is burning through the two layers of t-shirt separating them.
Mike smells really good, too, and, like, Kevin knew that, but he never really KNEW it. Like, whenever he's around Mike, he's aware that he smells like soap and rain and alcohol and sweat and just really, really good, but he's never noticed it, never just breathed it in.
"Dude. Are you sniffing me?"
Kevin looks up at Mike. He is so good looking. Really. Like, Kevin's breath catches in his throat and he actually has to gasp good looking. Kevin puts his hand up, slowly, like he's underwater, and touches Mike's face, and jesus. He even feels good. His skin is rough with stubble and so, so warm, and Kevin just wants to taste him so he leans up and presses his lips to Mike's cheek, drags his open mouth across Mike's chin, over his throat. He's vaguely aware of people laughing, talking loudly, and he can feel - rather than hear - Mike talking, but he doesn't know what he's saying.
"Mike," Kevin says, and, wow. He didn't know his voice could even sound like that, all low and rough. "Mike," he repeats, just to hear himself again, "You're really hot tonight, Mike."
Mike's hands are heavy on his shoulders. "And you're really drunk," Mike says, right in his ear. Kevin shivers all over and his eyes slip shut, and that's when Mike stands up and Kevin falls foward. He has to flail around a little to get his balance back, and then Mike's helping him up, "Time to go, I think," wrapping his arm around his waist and steering him towards the door.
Kevin kisses Mike in the cab, curls his hands in the front of his shirt and holds Mike against him, small, sweet kisses at first that evolve slowly until Kevin's panting against Mike's mouth, moving restlessly against him. Mike keeps pulling back to talk to him, just little things like "You had fun, then," or "You're in a good mood" or just "That feels really good, Kevin." Kevin's getting a little frustrated, though, because he doesn't want to talk, he just wants Mike to make out with him. And maybe touch his dick.
Mike manages to get Kevin out of the cab and into the house without causing too much damage, helps him through the hall and into the bedroom. It's no mean feat. Kevin is taking every opportunity to put his mouth on Mike, biting at his neck while he slides his hands up under Mike's shirt.
Mike says, "Let's get you undressed," and Kevin jerks a little and moans kinda loudly even as his hands go to the hem of his shirt. Mike helps him get his shirt off, and his shoes, and his jeans, then strips down to his boxers himself. Kevin flattens himself against Mike. There's just so much skin.
The room is dark, and Mike pulls at Kevin until he falls to the bed with him, kicks at the covers until they're covering both of them decently. Kevin presses himself flush against Mike's side, licking at his mouth until Mike reciprocates. Kevin's hard, has been since god knows when, and he can feel Mike against his hip. He rocks forward and gasps at the feeling. Mike groans, and his hands come up to frame Kevin's waist.
"Kevin, no."
"Wha'?"
Mike's hands are really nice, Kevin decides. They're just the right size, and all callused from playing guitar. They draw patterns on his back while Mike speaks to him, quietly, even though there's nobody else in the house.
"You don't actually want this," Mike says, and Kevin shakes his head because no, he really, really does; "You're drunk, and you don't know what you want right now, and I'm flattered and everything - obviously -" Mike laughs low, and Kevin smiles and smooths his hand down his chest to cup his dick, "-But." Mike takes his wrist gently and moves it away. "I'd rather you not do something you regret in the morning."
"'Mnot gonna regret it," Kevin says, slurring the words together. "Love you. You're it."
"You're it for me too, Kev," Mike says, sounding almost sweet (for him, at least). "But, you know - um. Like. 'True Love Waits', and all that shit."
"I don't want to wait," Kevin says, "I want you now. I want you to touch me, please, Mike, I just want your hand -"
"Nope," Mike says. At least he sounds a little regretful. The bastard.
"I hope you die of fu- I hope you die of blue balls," Kevin spits, and turns over.
When he wakes up, the bed is empty next to him; he can hear Mike moving around in the kitchen, the radio turned low on some classic rock station. Something smells good, but the instant he moves, his head splits open and something he ate last night starts trying to get out of his mouth. So he lies very, very still, and listens to Mike clattering about, singing snatches of lyrics to AC/DC.
When he wakes again, it's because Mike's hand is on his shoulder. Kevin blinks at him blearily and kind of wants to die. Mike has a plate of waffles in one hand, a steaming mug in the other, and the wide smirk on his face juxtaposed against the apparent breakfast in bed is the most terrifying thing Kevin has ever seen. "'M sorry," he squeaks, clutching the blankets to his chest, "I didn't-"
Mike laughs. "Shut up," he says fondly, and offers the waffles to Kevin. They're almost perfect, surprisingly, and Kevin can't help but make a rather embarrassing noise around the first mouthful. Mike just grins lazily and takes another gulp of coffee.
4
Kevin's been on tour for the past three months non-stop and it's gotten to that point that Mike's been arranging the pillows in a vaguely Kevin-like shape before he goes to sleep, just so he has something to hold on to. They're not as good as the real thing, of course; they don't smell like new stationary and apple shampoo, and they don't squeak when Mike makes vague innuendos at them, and they definitely don't kiss back. (Not that Mike's tried, or anything.)
Mike's fully aware that he's getting pathetic:
(Basically Kevin comes home early while Mike's being lonely and self-pitying and Mike pretty much jumps him, and then they snuggle on the couch with all their clothes totally still on.)
[And one time they did]
The weirdest thing about dating Kevin Jonas isn't the fact that Mike's suddenly on the cover of teenie magazines, or that eleven year old girls everywhere suddenly have it out for him, or even that he's gone for a year, while being in a solid relationship, without having sex except for the kind that gets him pretty well acquainted with his right hand. The weirdest thing is that dating Kevin Jonas has somehow turned Mike into a total girl, and he's not so sure he's cool with that.
For example: Mike now makes breakfast in bed for his boyfriend, apparently. He spends hours trying to create the perfect waffles, slicing strawberries and whipping cream (because whip from a can is nowhere near good enough for Kevin, okay, they put all this nasty preservative shit in it and no way is Mike letting Kevin risk getting some kind of chemical sickness from fucking WHIP CREAM). And then, once he's totally messed up the kitchen and wasted tonnes of flour and milk and almost totalled the wafflemaker, he goes through to the bedroom and actually SITS and FLIRTS and MAKES EYES at Kevin, which he's never done for anyone else he's gone out with, ever. Even if they had gotten to the point of living together. Even if they'd slept in the same bed. Making breakfast in bed is just not the kind of thing Mike Carden, Pre-Jonas, would do.
Also for example: When Kevin gets sick, Mike gets worried. Like, really worried. Not just "oh I hope I don't get sick either" worried, but full-on home-made chicken soup worried, cool washcloth and cold medicine worried, "OH GOD HE'S SNEEZING MOM WHAT DO I DO NOW" worried. Mike curls up behind Kevin in bed and rubs little circles on Kevin's stomach, muttering absolutely nothing of importance and kissing the back of his neck whenever Kevin's breathing goes funny. He strips Kevin's shirt off and turns him over and rubs the ache out of his muscles, and Kevin moans low and goes all soft and boneless against the matress. (When Mike gets sick a week later, Kevin feeds him soup that's ten times better than the stuff Mike made him, and pets his head and lets him watch movies with actual swearing in them WHILE HE'S IN THE SAME ROOM.)
Also for example: Mike is totally down with snuggling now. Before, he was more of a one-arm hug, maybe a little bit of cuddling after sex kind of guy. But now he's curling up with Kevin on the couch to watch a movie, spooning as soon as he gets into bed, holding Kevin's hand in public, sneaking kisses behind the waiter's back whenever they go out to dinner. Mike's never really felt the need for that kind of physical closeness before. Maybe it's because they're not having sex, or whatever, but having Kevin pressed up against his side even though there's plenty of room on the couch, or having Kevin's hands curled gently around his wrists while they sleep, is suddenly a huge deal for him. It's awesome. It makes him smile like an idiot and forget what he's saying in the middle of a sentence, and it makes pretty much every single one of his labelmates laugh at him behind his back but he doesn't even care.
So anyway. Mike and Kevin come in from grocery shopping and Kevin says, "I think I want you to, um, you know," like he was going for smooth but then lost it halfway in. He's turning pink and it's kind of adorable and Mike grins at him and kisses him quick while he goes past to start putting the groceries away, and says, "No, I don't actually know," not really expecting anything too shocking. But Kevin's like, "Tonight. I want you to. You know. Tonight." and Mike drops the bag he's holding. The bag splits and food spills out over the floor and Kevin's like, "Yeah, I definitely want you to."
The thing is, it's only two in the afternoon, and they don't go to bed until eleven at the fucking earliest, and Mike spends the whole day unbelievably, blindingly hard. He doesn't even know how he's going to last when he's inside Kevin at last, god, and he doesn't want to embarrass himself and oh jesus why couldn't they have just worked their way up here like most people do? He hasn't had sex in over a year, it's going to be terrible, but oh, god, he hasn't had sex in over a year and now he's going to be having sex with KEVIN. It's going to be AWESOME.
And then they have sex and it's totally awkward, because it's the first time anyone's ever touched Kevin's dick (other than himeslf) and he comes as soon as Mike gets his mouth on him. Then, of course, he's all angsty about it, like, "I didn't want it to happen like that I'm so sorry let me make it up to you" and he's SO BAD at blowjobs, Mike would be laughing if he wasn't so terrified that Kevin was going to do something wrong and he would end up dickless.
Mike grabs Kevin's shoulders and hauls him back up, kisses him deep and dirty (and at least Kevin's good at this, they've been doing it long enough) and eventually he goes to Kevin, "I'm gonna finger you now," and Kevin goes "Nyaaaaah" against the side of Mike's mouth, like he's forgotten how to speak. So Mike gets Kevin on his back with his knees bent and his feet flat on the bed, and he slicks up his fingers and presses one into Kevin really slowly because he knows that Kevin is secretly freaking out about it.
Kevin's mostly silent, which is strange, because he's so responsive when they're making out, with his little gasps and half-moans. Mike clears his throat, "Um, you doing okay?" and Kevin nods but doesn't say anything. Mike figures it's just because it's this huge occasion for him, something totally new, and maybe he's nervous, maybe he's getting some strange kind of - performance anxiety or stage fright or something. So he pets at Kevin's hip and pulls his finger out, sliding two back in its place. And Kevin's still totally silent (secretly, he's focussing on breathing steadily, in, out, in, do not moan, Jonas, you're a stronger man than that) until Mike curls his fingers up and then Kevin manages to choke on a breath in and make this ridiculous strangled kind of noise.
Mike says "You're okay?" and Kevin goes "Yes, yeah, sorry," and Mike smirks and bites his shoulder, curls his fingers again and listens to Kevin's ragged breath.
Eventually Kevin says, "Mi-ike," all drawn out on a moan, and Mike totally copies him, "Wha-at?" Kevin's all breathless and squirmy and he says "Can you - can you just do it?" and Mike laughs at him, of course, because there's nothing else to do. Kevin scowls, "Don't laugh at me," and Mike says, "I'm not, I'm not. Okay."
Mike pushes in slow, slow, slow. It's so fucking hard, because HE'S so fucking hard, and he hasn't had sex in more than a year, and Kevin's so fucking hot spread out below him with his head tipped back and his eyes wide and his face and chest all pink. His mouth's open and Mike can hear him breathing, right up until he's all the way in and then the only thing he can hear is his blood rushing in his ears and he grits out, "This is going to be over way too soon, sorry."
Kevin looks at him with his eyes all huge and Mike is reminded absurdly of tiny lemurs and bush babies and a bunch of really cute things and he snorts out a laugh and says, "You're fucking adorable," and Kevin says "What?" on a high note. Mike shakes his head and rocks a little and even that's too fucking much, but Kevin's rocking back against him and running his hands all over Mike's back like he's just realised he's actually allowed to touch him. Mike is going to be so embarrassed later, but it takes him maybe three minutes of actually being all the way inside Kevin before he comes. It's totally okay, though, because Kevin comes like two seconds after Mike.
After, Kevin gets all clingy. He's always clingy, though. Mike clings back, a tiny bit, and kisses him and tries to talk to him about the kind of stupid, mundane stuff he used to talk about after sex before. Kevin smiles at him dopily and goes to sleep. Mike rolls his eyes, but he's asleep pretty quick, too.