(Falling All Over You) Spilled Coffee - Kradam - NC17
Title: Spilled Coffee
'Verse: Falling All Over You, Part 2
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Adam/Kris
Word Count: ~1,900
Beta: sbb23 Thank you, bb, for being fast, thorough and educational. (Though I'm afraid I will never learn the rules that govern third person singular verbs.) ♥
Disclaimer: Not true. Not even a little bit. Not even at all.
Summary: Kris unexpectedly runs into Adam and spills coffee all over him. Then they have sex in a Starbucks bathroom.
Notes: Sequel to Bumpy Ride and a part of my public sex 'verse, dubiously dubbed Falling All Over You. All parts may be read as stand-alones (unless you care more about the big picture than porn, because in that case you might be out of luck).
Part 1: Bumpy Ride
Spilled Coffee
Kris isn't surprised when Adam's gone in the morning. The only proof he's even been there is the number of condom wrappers littering the bed, a single dark hair on the pillow, and a used towel neatly folded and put on top of the laundry basket. Kris hadn’t really expected anything else, but that doesn't mean he likes it.
Every day for two weeks he braves the rush hour train, scanning the crowd for Adam's shock of dark hair before stepping into the car, but he's never there and Kris gets the feeling he's being avoided. It's probably for the best - Kris got a scolding for not grading the essays like he should have and he walked around in a daze for three days, getting hard every time he sat down and was reminded of just how many times they’d fucked before the night was over.
The thing about really fucking amazing sex with a really fucking amazing guy, though, is that it's not so easy to just push it away and go on. Kris finds himself reminiscing about their night at the oddest times, and the number of times he doodles Adam in the margins of his notebook is frankly embarrassing. Maybe Andrew is right and he is too much of a hopeless romantic to be gay, or maybe he really is a girl like Matt keeps suggesting.
He supposes it doesn’t matter. He knows close to nothing about Adam besides his name, not even where he gets on or off the train, so even if he had a hopelessly romantic love-sick grand gesture stored up his sleeve, he wouldn’t know where to enact it. Not that he has one. Or would even do it if he bumped into Adam again. He’s really not that pathetic. Really.
When he does run into Adam again, it's literally, and he's completely unprepared. He's just gotten coffee from the Starbucks by the school and is turning around to leave when he walks right into Adam, splashing coffee all over Adam's shirt and his own hand.
"Shit, your shirt," he says.
"Shit, your hand," Adam says and for a moment they just stare at each other.
Then Adam takes control, grabbing Kris's wrist and dragging him towards the bathroom, dripping coffee from his lapels along the way. Kris stumbles along, dazed and more than a little confused, until Adam thrusts his hand down into the sink and turns the water on.
"Ouch," he yelps and yanks his hand back. The water is hot enough to be scalding on his already glowing skin.
"Shit, shit, shit," Adam curses, turning the temperature down and pulling Kris's hand back under the spray. It's cool enough to be soothing without turning his hand to ice and he hums happily.
"How does it feel?" Adam asks, looking at Kris in the mirror.
"Tender," Kris says, looking at his reddened skin and Adam's grip of his wrist. Adam's nail polish is black and chipped along the edges of his nails - his hands are big and strong.
He studies Adam in the mirror, wincing at the stain spread over the front of his t-shirt that makes it cling to his stomach.
"You should take your shirt off," he says.
Adam laughs and he realizes what that sounded like.
"No," he says quickly. "That wasn't… I mean… the stain."
Adam looks down and grimaces. "You're right."
He lets go of Kris's wrist in favor of yanking his shirt off, making the chain around his neck clatter as it bounces off his chest. Kris stares and then stares some more. Adam's chest hair is gone.
"You…" Kris cuts himself off and swallows. He's got no protocol for these things. How do you talk to the guy who snuck out after the best sex of your life?
"You like?" Adam asks, smoothing a hand over his pecs. Obviously he doesn't care about protocol.
"I… uh… yeah."
It's hard to stop staring, because Adam is pretty much the hottest guy he's ever seen. Even though he remembers it (vividly and often) it's hard to believe they actually had sex now that he sees Adam in real life again. Kris knows he isn't ugly, but he's also not out there and breathtaking like Adam. He's a pretty ordinary guy, kind of cute, but a bit on the short side. He probably hasn't been anyone's dream guy since he broke up with Katy O'Connell in 12th grade because he realized that no matter how cute and bubbly and safe she was, she would never hold a candle to Cale Mills' soulful brown eyes.
Beside him Adam carefully dips his shirt in under the spray, rinsing the shirt out as best he can while making sure Kris's fingers are still being showered. Kris watches the way his biceps flex, pale skin and freckles shifting over toned muscles. He kind of forgets how to breathe. This is so fucked up.
Adam's fingers slide over his when he pulls the shirt back and Kris has to bite down on a moan. It hasn't been that long since he got laid - his reaction to Adam and the insistent erection pressing against his zipper is nothing short of embarrassing. Adam wrings the shirt out, droplets of water splattering over Kris's arm and he worries at his lower lip, trying not to shiver.
"How's your hand?" Adam asks.
"Uh… Good, I think." Kris flexes his fingers under the water. His skin is going numb.
"I'm sorry," Adam says, looking at him in the mirror. "For sneaking out. That was kind of low."
Kris shrugs, trying to look like he doesn't care in the slightest. "It's okay," he says.
"That night was..." Adam trails off, eyes fixed on Kris's reflection. "Amazing, but my life's kind of… uhm… complicated right now."
"It's okay," Kris repeats, tearing his eyes away from the mirror. He kind of wishes he had that grand romantic gesture up his sleeve, because letting Adam just walk away again is going to suck.
"Hey." Adam touches the back of his neck. "It's not you."
Kris rolls his eyes. "I think you need to pull another one from the cliché dictionary. That one's getting old."
Adam snorts. "But it isn't. Really isn't. This one's definitely all me"
He still has his fingers wrapped around the back of Kris's neck, his thumb rubbing against Kris's hairline. It makes it hard to think.
"It's not only old, it's also stupid," Kris mutters. "I mean… it's not my fault, it's yours, but if your problem is that you don't find me attractive then it's really my fault, isn't it?"
"Have you thought about this a lot?" Adam asks with barely hidden amusement.
"Maybe," Kris admits. He really hates that excuse.
Adam bends closer until his lips are almost touching Kris's ear. "For the record," he murmurs. "I think you're insanely attractive."
Kris isn't going to turn his head, he really isn't, but when he does he's not surprised that Adam kisses him. Adam's hand slides around his neck to cup his cheek, holding him still when Adam deepens the kiss and licks his way into Kris's mouth. Kris's heart trips against his ribcage and he's so hard he think he might actually die. Adam is eerily like human sized Viagra.
"Shouldn't be doing this," Adam murmurs against Kris's lips, at the same time as he flips Kris over, pressing him up against the sink with a thigh between Kris's legs. "Shouldn't…"
But he doesn't stop kissing Kris, sucking lightly on his tongue and nibbling on his lower lip with just enough of an edge to sting. Kris slides his hands over Adam's chest, marveling at the smoothness. It's different, not necessarily better, but he loves the silky feel of Adam's skin.
"Your hand's cold," Adam murmurs, sucking a kiss against Kris's jaw line.
"Sorry," Kris responds, tilting his head back to give Adam better access.
He groans when Adam nips at his pulse point, thrusting his hips against Adam's leg.
"Fuck," Adam hisses. "Can you keep it down if I blow you?"
He doesn't wait for an answer before sinking to his knees, and Kris gurgles at the back of his throat. Adam fumbles Kris's jeans open, pushing them down impatiently, and Kris doesn't even get the chance to breathe before Adam's mouth is on him. He bites down on his lip to keep from shouting and grabs the sink behind him with both hands.
Adam isn't fooling around, his mouth is tight and hot around Kris's dick, one of his hand curled around Kris's hip and the other caressing Kris's balls. He looks absolutely indecent with his bangs falling over his forehead and his mouth stretched around Kris's dick. Kris pants harshly through his nose, clamping down on every sound that wants to escape. Suddenly the people outside sound much louder and closer and he wonders if they even remembered to lock the door.
He lifts a hand to clutch on Adam's hair, trying to give him some warning that Kris's getting really fucking close. The tight suction and the hand tugging rhythmically on his balls is more than enough to get him off embarrassingly fast. He hears footsteps outside the door and his hips jerks forward on their own volition, cock sliding against the roof of Adam's mouth.
Adam moans around him and Kris can swear he feels the echo in his brain. He squeezes his eyes shut and bites down on his tongue, hips twitching against Adam's face. Blood rushes through his ears so loudly he can no longer hear the people outside. Then Adam's fingers slide in behind his balls, pressing hard, and he comes so abruptly it feels like his orgasm is ripped out of him. He doesn't quite manage to keep quiet, but it's a close thing, tiny needy little sounds escaping through his nose as he spills down Adam's throat, pleasure curling through his loins and spreading in waves through his body.
"Fuck," Adam says hoarsely when he pulls away, licking his lips. "Jesus."
He presses his face into Kris's hip, panting harshly, as he fumbles with his jeans. Kris cards his fingers through Adam's hair, silky soft strands snaking around his fingers, while Adam jerks himself furiously. It doesn't take long for Adam to come, burying a moan into Kris's skin which makes Kris feel a bit better about his less than stellar stamina.
They breathe in silence for a moment, Kris's fingers still rubbing Adam's scalp until Adam collects himself and scrambles to his feet, reaching for a paper towel.
"That was not…" Adam starts as he cleans himself off quickly. "I mean… I really shouldn't have done that. Sorry."
Kris blinks. This is the first time anyone has ever apologized for giving him a blowjob - then it dawns on him.
"You're not going to ask for my number," he says as he tucks himself in and straightens his clothes.
"I… I would but… if I had it I would use it. It's bad enough that I know where you live."
Kris snorts and nods like he understands even though it doesn't make sense at all. He doesn't expect it at all when Adam suddenly moves forward and kisses him.
"We'll see each other again," Adam murmurs against his lips. "What's meant to be is meant to be and there's no way this isn't."
Kris wants to ask what he means, but Adam's tugging his shirt on and reaching for the door already. Kris sighs. It’s back to doodling Adam’s name in his notebook while dreaming of another reunion. If Adam can be hopeful about it, so can he. Maybe somehow it is meant to be.
The End
Part 3: Crowded Club
'Verse: Falling All Over You, Part 2
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Adam/Kris
Word Count: ~1,900
Beta: sbb23 Thank you, bb, for being fast, thorough and educational. (Though I'm afraid I will never learn the rules that govern third person singular verbs.) ♥
Disclaimer: Not true. Not even a little bit. Not even at all.
Summary: Kris unexpectedly runs into Adam and spills coffee all over him. Then they have sex in a Starbucks bathroom.
Notes: Sequel to Bumpy Ride and a part of my public sex 'verse, dubiously dubbed Falling All Over You. All parts may be read as stand-alones (unless you care more about the big picture than porn, because in that case you might be out of luck).
Part 1: Bumpy Ride
Spilled Coffee
Kris isn't surprised when Adam's gone in the morning. The only proof he's even been there is the number of condom wrappers littering the bed, a single dark hair on the pillow, and a used towel neatly folded and put on top of the laundry basket. Kris hadn’t really expected anything else, but that doesn't mean he likes it.
Every day for two weeks he braves the rush hour train, scanning the crowd for Adam's shock of dark hair before stepping into the car, but he's never there and Kris gets the feeling he's being avoided. It's probably for the best - Kris got a scolding for not grading the essays like he should have and he walked around in a daze for three days, getting hard every time he sat down and was reminded of just how many times they’d fucked before the night was over.
The thing about really fucking amazing sex with a really fucking amazing guy, though, is that it's not so easy to just push it away and go on. Kris finds himself reminiscing about their night at the oddest times, and the number of times he doodles Adam in the margins of his notebook is frankly embarrassing. Maybe Andrew is right and he is too much of a hopeless romantic to be gay, or maybe he really is a girl like Matt keeps suggesting.
He supposes it doesn’t matter. He knows close to nothing about Adam besides his name, not even where he gets on or off the train, so even if he had a hopelessly romantic love-sick grand gesture stored up his sleeve, he wouldn’t know where to enact it. Not that he has one. Or would even do it if he bumped into Adam again. He’s really not that pathetic. Really.
When he does run into Adam again, it's literally, and he's completely unprepared. He's just gotten coffee from the Starbucks by the school and is turning around to leave when he walks right into Adam, splashing coffee all over Adam's shirt and his own hand.
"Shit, your shirt," he says.
"Shit, your hand," Adam says and for a moment they just stare at each other.
Then Adam takes control, grabbing Kris's wrist and dragging him towards the bathroom, dripping coffee from his lapels along the way. Kris stumbles along, dazed and more than a little confused, until Adam thrusts his hand down into the sink and turns the water on.
"Ouch," he yelps and yanks his hand back. The water is hot enough to be scalding on his already glowing skin.
"Shit, shit, shit," Adam curses, turning the temperature down and pulling Kris's hand back under the spray. It's cool enough to be soothing without turning his hand to ice and he hums happily.
"How does it feel?" Adam asks, looking at Kris in the mirror.
"Tender," Kris says, looking at his reddened skin and Adam's grip of his wrist. Adam's nail polish is black and chipped along the edges of his nails - his hands are big and strong.
He studies Adam in the mirror, wincing at the stain spread over the front of his t-shirt that makes it cling to his stomach.
"You should take your shirt off," he says.
Adam laughs and he realizes what that sounded like.
"No," he says quickly. "That wasn't… I mean… the stain."
Adam looks down and grimaces. "You're right."
He lets go of Kris's wrist in favor of yanking his shirt off, making the chain around his neck clatter as it bounces off his chest. Kris stares and then stares some more. Adam's chest hair is gone.
"You…" Kris cuts himself off and swallows. He's got no protocol for these things. How do you talk to the guy who snuck out after the best sex of your life?
"You like?" Adam asks, smoothing a hand over his pecs. Obviously he doesn't care about protocol.
"I… uh… yeah."
It's hard to stop staring, because Adam is pretty much the hottest guy he's ever seen. Even though he remembers it (vividly and often) it's hard to believe they actually had sex now that he sees Adam in real life again. Kris knows he isn't ugly, but he's also not out there and breathtaking like Adam. He's a pretty ordinary guy, kind of cute, but a bit on the short side. He probably hasn't been anyone's dream guy since he broke up with Katy O'Connell in 12th grade because he realized that no matter how cute and bubbly and safe she was, she would never hold a candle to Cale Mills' soulful brown eyes.
Beside him Adam carefully dips his shirt in under the spray, rinsing the shirt out as best he can while making sure Kris's fingers are still being showered. Kris watches the way his biceps flex, pale skin and freckles shifting over toned muscles. He kind of forgets how to breathe. This is so fucked up.
Adam's fingers slide over his when he pulls the shirt back and Kris has to bite down on a moan. It hasn't been that long since he got laid - his reaction to Adam and the insistent erection pressing against his zipper is nothing short of embarrassing. Adam wrings the shirt out, droplets of water splattering over Kris's arm and he worries at his lower lip, trying not to shiver.
"How's your hand?" Adam asks.
"Uh… Good, I think." Kris flexes his fingers under the water. His skin is going numb.
"I'm sorry," Adam says, looking at him in the mirror. "For sneaking out. That was kind of low."
Kris shrugs, trying to look like he doesn't care in the slightest. "It's okay," he says.
"That night was..." Adam trails off, eyes fixed on Kris's reflection. "Amazing, but my life's kind of… uhm… complicated right now."
"It's okay," Kris repeats, tearing his eyes away from the mirror. He kind of wishes he had that grand romantic gesture up his sleeve, because letting Adam just walk away again is going to suck.
"Hey." Adam touches the back of his neck. "It's not you."
Kris rolls his eyes. "I think you need to pull another one from the cliché dictionary. That one's getting old."
Adam snorts. "But it isn't. Really isn't. This one's definitely all me"
He still has his fingers wrapped around the back of Kris's neck, his thumb rubbing against Kris's hairline. It makes it hard to think.
"It's not only old, it's also stupid," Kris mutters. "I mean… it's not my fault, it's yours, but if your problem is that you don't find me attractive then it's really my fault, isn't it?"
"Have you thought about this a lot?" Adam asks with barely hidden amusement.
"Maybe," Kris admits. He really hates that excuse.
Adam bends closer until his lips are almost touching Kris's ear. "For the record," he murmurs. "I think you're insanely attractive."
Kris isn't going to turn his head, he really isn't, but when he does he's not surprised that Adam kisses him. Adam's hand slides around his neck to cup his cheek, holding him still when Adam deepens the kiss and licks his way into Kris's mouth. Kris's heart trips against his ribcage and he's so hard he think he might actually die. Adam is eerily like human sized Viagra.
"Shouldn't be doing this," Adam murmurs against Kris's lips, at the same time as he flips Kris over, pressing him up against the sink with a thigh between Kris's legs. "Shouldn't…"
But he doesn't stop kissing Kris, sucking lightly on his tongue and nibbling on his lower lip with just enough of an edge to sting. Kris slides his hands over Adam's chest, marveling at the smoothness. It's different, not necessarily better, but he loves the silky feel of Adam's skin.
"Your hand's cold," Adam murmurs, sucking a kiss against Kris's jaw line.
"Sorry," Kris responds, tilting his head back to give Adam better access.
He groans when Adam nips at his pulse point, thrusting his hips against Adam's leg.
"Fuck," Adam hisses. "Can you keep it down if I blow you?"
He doesn't wait for an answer before sinking to his knees, and Kris gurgles at the back of his throat. Adam fumbles Kris's jeans open, pushing them down impatiently, and Kris doesn't even get the chance to breathe before Adam's mouth is on him. He bites down on his lip to keep from shouting and grabs the sink behind him with both hands.
Adam isn't fooling around, his mouth is tight and hot around Kris's dick, one of his hand curled around Kris's hip and the other caressing Kris's balls. He looks absolutely indecent with his bangs falling over his forehead and his mouth stretched around Kris's dick. Kris pants harshly through his nose, clamping down on every sound that wants to escape. Suddenly the people outside sound much louder and closer and he wonders if they even remembered to lock the door.
He lifts a hand to clutch on Adam's hair, trying to give him some warning that Kris's getting really fucking close. The tight suction and the hand tugging rhythmically on his balls is more than enough to get him off embarrassingly fast. He hears footsteps outside the door and his hips jerks forward on their own volition, cock sliding against the roof of Adam's mouth.
Adam moans around him and Kris can swear he feels the echo in his brain. He squeezes his eyes shut and bites down on his tongue, hips twitching against Adam's face. Blood rushes through his ears so loudly he can no longer hear the people outside. Then Adam's fingers slide in behind his balls, pressing hard, and he comes so abruptly it feels like his orgasm is ripped out of him. He doesn't quite manage to keep quiet, but it's a close thing, tiny needy little sounds escaping through his nose as he spills down Adam's throat, pleasure curling through his loins and spreading in waves through his body.
"Fuck," Adam says hoarsely when he pulls away, licking his lips. "Jesus."
He presses his face into Kris's hip, panting harshly, as he fumbles with his jeans. Kris cards his fingers through Adam's hair, silky soft strands snaking around his fingers, while Adam jerks himself furiously. It doesn't take long for Adam to come, burying a moan into Kris's skin which makes Kris feel a bit better about his less than stellar stamina.
They breathe in silence for a moment, Kris's fingers still rubbing Adam's scalp until Adam collects himself and scrambles to his feet, reaching for a paper towel.
"That was not…" Adam starts as he cleans himself off quickly. "I mean… I really shouldn't have done that. Sorry."
Kris blinks. This is the first time anyone has ever apologized for giving him a blowjob - then it dawns on him.
"You're not going to ask for my number," he says as he tucks himself in and straightens his clothes.
"I… I would but… if I had it I would use it. It's bad enough that I know where you live."
Kris snorts and nods like he understands even though it doesn't make sense at all. He doesn't expect it at all when Adam suddenly moves forward and kisses him.
"We'll see each other again," Adam murmurs against his lips. "What's meant to be is meant to be and there's no way this isn't."
Kris wants to ask what he means, but Adam's tugging his shirt on and reaching for the door already. Kris sighs. It’s back to doodling Adam’s name in his notebook while dreaming of another reunion. If Adam can be hopeful about it, so can he. Maybe somehow it is meant to be.
The End
Part 3: Crowded Club