Je n'ai pas connu d'autres garçons que toi, Kevin/Danny, NC-17
Title: Je n'ai pas connu d'autres garçons que toi (si j'en ai connu, je ne m'en souviens pas)
Author: Merle
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairing: Kevin/Danny
Word Count: 1470
Spoilers: For 1.05 “Date Night”
Disclaimer: Kevin, Danny and the Walkers belong to ABC; the title is a quote from the song “Mon amour, mon ami” by André Popp and Edmond Bacri.
Warnings: (Explicit) sex of the male/male kind (duh!), cross-dressing.
Summary: Kevin's 18th birthday turns out a bit different than expected.
A/N: Some Kevin birthday fic, since it's Matthew Rhys' birthday today! This was inspired by something Kevin said in season 1 when he was talking to Scotty about his coming out. I took some liberties with canon without actually ignoring it. For the translation of the French sentences see below, at the end of the fic. This is for semisweetsoul, because she's such a lovely girl and a good friend. I got to warn you, though: This might be the porniest thing I've ever written.
Link to my other B&S fanfic is here
Je n'ai pas connu d'autres garçons que toi (si j'en ai connu, je ne m'en souviens pas)
“That Halloween Danny dressed up as a French chamber maid.”
Kevin Walker, episode 1.05 “Date Night”
It’s seven pm on his birthday, and Kevin is ready to admit that birthdays suck. Especially eighteenth birthdays, and even more so his own.
His father is still at the office and didn’t even bother to call, which isn't really a surprise, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. His mother made walnut cake, which Kevin loves but is allergic to (and didn't she make the same mistake two years ago?), and Tommy gave him baseball tickets - and yes, he knows that his brother means well and that the tickets must have been expensive, and he’s even kind of looking forward to spending some time just with Tommy, but … baseball? What the fuck?
So yes, Kevin has resigned himself to the fact that his birthday sucks thoroughly, and he wonders if maybe going to bed early might just be the solution to all of his problems, even knowing that his sisters probably won’t let him - and that’s when Danny calls.
“Wanna come over?” Danny asks, and his voice is husky, like it sounds when he’s got a cold, or - when he’s really, really horny, and no, not going there right now, with Mom lurking right behind him. “I could give you your present.”
And yeah, Kevin definitely wants to go, gift or not, because Danny’s family is out of town for the week and they’ll have the house for themselves, and maybe this day can be saved, after all.
He tells his family that Danny has plans for him. They all seem to think that Danny’s just going to get him drunk, or maybe hook him up with some girl, and since they obviously think it’s how he should spend this night anyway, they let him go without much complaint - or maybe it's just that Mom still feels bad for the thing with the cake.
The door is unlocked when he gets to Danny’s house, so he just lets himself in. It’s not uncommon. He’s at their house so often that Mrs. MacCullough once jokingly said she should just get him his own key. She didn't, but since the door is never locked, it doesn’t matter anyway.
The house is quiet, and after taking off his shoes like the good boy he is, Kevin wanders into the living room in search of his boyfriend. For a moment, he wonders if maybe Abigail hasn’t left with her parents after all, because there’s someone standing at the window, with their back to him, in this really short, frilly dress and fishnet tights, and Kevin thinks that this outfit is really bold, even for someone as slutty as Danny's sister, but then the person turns around, and Kevin’s breath catches, because it’s not Abigail at all.
It’s Danny, and he’s wearing … “Oh my God”, Kevin says.
“Bon anniversaire, mon chéri”, Danny smiles, painted lips a deep red against the white of his teeth, and moves forward on his high heels, hips swaying.
“Mon Dieu”, Kevin says, because he still can’t think of anything else, but it seems more appropriate to say it in French, at least.
“Est-ce que ça te plaît?” Danny asks seductively, batting his eyelashes, but his voice is shaking slightly, and Kevin realizes that he’s nervous.
“J'adore”, he says truthfully, and reaches out to touch the black lace adorning the plunging neckline, tracing it softly with one finger, feeling the other boy shiver under his touch.
“So what are you going to do with me?” Danny whispers, too distracted to care that he’s switching back to English - or maybe it's just that his French isn’t sufficient for more complicated conversations. Kevin doesn’t care either way, because conversation is the last thing on his mind right now.
“Turn around”, he says hoarsely, and Danny swallows and obeys. Kevin puts his hands carefully on his bare, freckled shoulders, and Danny bends over eagerly, without even being told so, reaching out to hold onto the large dining table. His tiny skirt, silky black over a white tulle petticoat, rides up, exposing fishnet stockings and firm thighs, and Kevin can't help himself. He runs his hands down Danny's back and settles them on his hips where the curve of his buttocks begins, and Danny exhales a shaky breath, pushing his ass back into Kevin's hands, as if he couldn't think of anything better than being bent over a table in a French maid outfit, and the idea is such a turn on that Kevin doesn't even think before he walks his fingers even lower, slipping them under the white lace panties peaking out from under the skirt. He feels the tight globes of Danny's ass cheeks, dips a finger into the cleft, and - “O my God” Kevin breathes, because Danny is wet.
The boy turns his head to look at Kevin, and his eyes are wide and dark.
“Got myself ready for you”, he says shakily, and Kevin doesn't know if he should laugh or cry, because even if the line sounds more like the cheap porn his brother secretly watches with his buddies than anything else, the image of Danny fucking himself on his fingers in his parents' living room is so hot that he has to press the palm of his hand against his groin for a second to keep himself from coming right now.
The fingers of his other hand are still resting against Danny's hole, which is slippery and sticky with lube, and he can't resist pushing his index inside. It's not necessary, but he has to feel the sensation of the muscles clenching around his fingers, the hot throbbing of Danny's blood against his hand, has to hear the sounds Danny makes when he starts moving two fingers in and out.
He only gets to savor the feeling for two minutes, though, before Danny starts to wriggle against him impatiently. “Come on”, he moans, “just do it already,” and he reaches back to pull his panties down.
“Wait”, Kevin says quickly, voice maybe a little sharper than intended. “Leave them.”
Danny groans and drops his hands immediately, and Kevin thinks that maybe this submission kink of Danny's might be worth exploring one day, but then he's got his pants open, his cock hard and heavy in his hand, and he stops thinking entirely.
They don't last long - they are just eighteen, after all, and far too worked up to keep control. Kevin is reaching around to grip Danny's cock through the soft fabric of the panties, and when Danny comes all over Kevin's fingers and the panties and the dining room table, Kevin loses it, too.
He feels a bit weak at the knees - literally - and he takes his time to detach himself from Danny, to pull out and straighten up. When he steps back, Danny finally lets go of the table and turns around: His make up is smudged, mascara leaving black tracks on his cheeks, lipstick smeared all over his face, and Kevin wants nothing more than to lick it off.
Danny frowns and starts tugging on his corset, and Kevin stops him quickly by putting a hand over his. “Don't”, he says, “leave it. Please? We have time, right?”
Danny sighs. “Man, this stuff itches. You owe me, Walker.”
Kevin grins. “Damn right I do”, and then he bends forward to tongue that spot of red lipstick pooling in Danny's left dimple.
When he finally gets home, there's a note from his father on the living room table, together with a gift-wrapped box. He doesn't look twice at it on his way upstairs - it can wait until tomorrow.
Tommy is already sleeping, but he wakes up when Kevin opens the door to their room and turns on the light on the night stand.
“Damn”, he says, and he sounds impressed. “Someone got really lucky tonight, huh?”
“What do you mean?” Kevin says, not looking at his brother while he's kicking his shoes off.
“Dude” Tommy says. “You've got lipstick all over you. Must have been a real wildcat.”
“Oh”, Kevin breathes. He walks into the bathroom and stares at his dishevelled reflection in the mirror while he's brushing his teeth. No wonder Tommy is grilling him.
“Well?” Tommy asks when he comes back from the bathroom and changes into his pajamas.
“What, well?” Kevin asks, and Tommy makes an impatient movement with his hand.
“Well, who is she?”
“Oh”, Kevin shrugs, demonstratively casual. “Some French chick.”
“Dude”, Tommy shakes his head. Kevin wishes he'd hear this admiring tone in his brother's voice more often, and not only when Tommy thinks he picked up a girl. “Happy fucking birthday, bro.”
Kevin crawls into bed and turns off the light. His shoulder itches where Danny bit down too hard on it earlier, and he rubs his hand over the spot. “Yeah”, he whispers. “Happy birthday to me.”
French-English translations:
Je n'ai pas connu d'autres garçons que toi / si j'en ai connu, je ne m'en souviens pas - I have never known any other boys but you / or if I did, I don't remember.
Mon amour, mon ami - My love, my friend.
Bon anniversaire, mon chéri - Happy birthday, darling
Mon Dieu! - My God!
Est-ce que ça te plaît? - Do you like it?
J'adore - I love it
Author: Merle
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairing: Kevin/Danny
Word Count: 1470
Spoilers: For 1.05 “Date Night”
Disclaimer: Kevin, Danny and the Walkers belong to ABC; the title is a quote from the song “Mon amour, mon ami” by André Popp and Edmond Bacri.
Warnings: (Explicit) sex of the male/male kind (duh!), cross-dressing.
Summary: Kevin's 18th birthday turns out a bit different than expected.
A/N: Some Kevin birthday fic, since it's Matthew Rhys' birthday today! This was inspired by something Kevin said in season 1 when he was talking to Scotty about his coming out. I took some liberties with canon without actually ignoring it. For the translation of the French sentences see below, at the end of the fic. This is for semisweetsoul, because she's such a lovely girl and a good friend. I got to warn you, though: This might be the porniest thing I've ever written.
Link to my other B&S fanfic is here
Je n'ai pas connu d'autres garçons que toi (si j'en ai connu, je ne m'en souviens pas)
“That Halloween Danny dressed up as a French chamber maid.”
Kevin Walker, episode 1.05 “Date Night”
It’s seven pm on his birthday, and Kevin is ready to admit that birthdays suck. Especially eighteenth birthdays, and even more so his own.
His father is still at the office and didn’t even bother to call, which isn't really a surprise, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. His mother made walnut cake, which Kevin loves but is allergic to (and didn't she make the same mistake two years ago?), and Tommy gave him baseball tickets - and yes, he knows that his brother means well and that the tickets must have been expensive, and he’s even kind of looking forward to spending some time just with Tommy, but … baseball? What the fuck?
So yes, Kevin has resigned himself to the fact that his birthday sucks thoroughly, and he wonders if maybe going to bed early might just be the solution to all of his problems, even knowing that his sisters probably won’t let him - and that’s when Danny calls.
“Wanna come over?” Danny asks, and his voice is husky, like it sounds when he’s got a cold, or - when he’s really, really horny, and no, not going there right now, with Mom lurking right behind him. “I could give you your present.”
And yeah, Kevin definitely wants to go, gift or not, because Danny’s family is out of town for the week and they’ll have the house for themselves, and maybe this day can be saved, after all.
He tells his family that Danny has plans for him. They all seem to think that Danny’s just going to get him drunk, or maybe hook him up with some girl, and since they obviously think it’s how he should spend this night anyway, they let him go without much complaint - or maybe it's just that Mom still feels bad for the thing with the cake.
The door is unlocked when he gets to Danny’s house, so he just lets himself in. It’s not uncommon. He’s at their house so often that Mrs. MacCullough once jokingly said she should just get him his own key. She didn't, but since the door is never locked, it doesn’t matter anyway.
The house is quiet, and after taking off his shoes like the good boy he is, Kevin wanders into the living room in search of his boyfriend. For a moment, he wonders if maybe Abigail hasn’t left with her parents after all, because there’s someone standing at the window, with their back to him, in this really short, frilly dress and fishnet tights, and Kevin thinks that this outfit is really bold, even for someone as slutty as Danny's sister, but then the person turns around, and Kevin’s breath catches, because it’s not Abigail at all.
It’s Danny, and he’s wearing … “Oh my God”, Kevin says.
“Bon anniversaire, mon chéri”, Danny smiles, painted lips a deep red against the white of his teeth, and moves forward on his high heels, hips swaying.
“Mon Dieu”, Kevin says, because he still can’t think of anything else, but it seems more appropriate to say it in French, at least.
“Est-ce que ça te plaît?” Danny asks seductively, batting his eyelashes, but his voice is shaking slightly, and Kevin realizes that he’s nervous.
“J'adore”, he says truthfully, and reaches out to touch the black lace adorning the plunging neckline, tracing it softly with one finger, feeling the other boy shiver under his touch.
“So what are you going to do with me?” Danny whispers, too distracted to care that he’s switching back to English - or maybe it's just that his French isn’t sufficient for more complicated conversations. Kevin doesn’t care either way, because conversation is the last thing on his mind right now.
“Turn around”, he says hoarsely, and Danny swallows and obeys. Kevin puts his hands carefully on his bare, freckled shoulders, and Danny bends over eagerly, without even being told so, reaching out to hold onto the large dining table. His tiny skirt, silky black over a white tulle petticoat, rides up, exposing fishnet stockings and firm thighs, and Kevin can't help himself. He runs his hands down Danny's back and settles them on his hips where the curve of his buttocks begins, and Danny exhales a shaky breath, pushing his ass back into Kevin's hands, as if he couldn't think of anything better than being bent over a table in a French maid outfit, and the idea is such a turn on that Kevin doesn't even think before he walks his fingers even lower, slipping them under the white lace panties peaking out from under the skirt. He feels the tight globes of Danny's ass cheeks, dips a finger into the cleft, and - “O my God” Kevin breathes, because Danny is wet.
The boy turns his head to look at Kevin, and his eyes are wide and dark.
“Got myself ready for you”, he says shakily, and Kevin doesn't know if he should laugh or cry, because even if the line sounds more like the cheap porn his brother secretly watches with his buddies than anything else, the image of Danny fucking himself on his fingers in his parents' living room is so hot that he has to press the palm of his hand against his groin for a second to keep himself from coming right now.
The fingers of his other hand are still resting against Danny's hole, which is slippery and sticky with lube, and he can't resist pushing his index inside. It's not necessary, but he has to feel the sensation of the muscles clenching around his fingers, the hot throbbing of Danny's blood against his hand, has to hear the sounds Danny makes when he starts moving two fingers in and out.
He only gets to savor the feeling for two minutes, though, before Danny starts to wriggle against him impatiently. “Come on”, he moans, “just do it already,” and he reaches back to pull his panties down.
“Wait”, Kevin says quickly, voice maybe a little sharper than intended. “Leave them.”
Danny groans and drops his hands immediately, and Kevin thinks that maybe this submission kink of Danny's might be worth exploring one day, but then he's got his pants open, his cock hard and heavy in his hand, and he stops thinking entirely.
They don't last long - they are just eighteen, after all, and far too worked up to keep control. Kevin is reaching around to grip Danny's cock through the soft fabric of the panties, and when Danny comes all over Kevin's fingers and the panties and the dining room table, Kevin loses it, too.
He feels a bit weak at the knees - literally - and he takes his time to detach himself from Danny, to pull out and straighten up. When he steps back, Danny finally lets go of the table and turns around: His make up is smudged, mascara leaving black tracks on his cheeks, lipstick smeared all over his face, and Kevin wants nothing more than to lick it off.
Danny frowns and starts tugging on his corset, and Kevin stops him quickly by putting a hand over his. “Don't”, he says, “leave it. Please? We have time, right?”
Danny sighs. “Man, this stuff itches. You owe me, Walker.”
Kevin grins. “Damn right I do”, and then he bends forward to tongue that spot of red lipstick pooling in Danny's left dimple.
When he finally gets home, there's a note from his father on the living room table, together with a gift-wrapped box. He doesn't look twice at it on his way upstairs - it can wait until tomorrow.
Tommy is already sleeping, but he wakes up when Kevin opens the door to their room and turns on the light on the night stand.
“Damn”, he says, and he sounds impressed. “Someone got really lucky tonight, huh?”
“What do you mean?” Kevin says, not looking at his brother while he's kicking his shoes off.
“Dude” Tommy says. “You've got lipstick all over you. Must have been a real wildcat.”
“Oh”, Kevin breathes. He walks into the bathroom and stares at his dishevelled reflection in the mirror while he's brushing his teeth. No wonder Tommy is grilling him.
“Well?” Tommy asks when he comes back from the bathroom and changes into his pajamas.
“What, well?” Kevin asks, and Tommy makes an impatient movement with his hand.
“Well, who is she?”
“Oh”, Kevin shrugs, demonstratively casual. “Some French chick.”
“Dude”, Tommy shakes his head. Kevin wishes he'd hear this admiring tone in his brother's voice more often, and not only when Tommy thinks he picked up a girl. “Happy fucking birthday, bro.”
Kevin crawls into bed and turns off the light. His shoulder itches where Danny bit down too hard on it earlier, and he rubs his hand over the spot. “Yeah”, he whispers. “Happy birthday to me.”
French-English translations:
Je n'ai pas connu d'autres garçons que toi / si j'en ai connu, je ne m'en souviens pas - I have never known any other boys but you / or if I did, I don't remember.
Mon amour, mon ami - My love, my friend.
Bon anniversaire, mon chéri - Happy birthday, darling
Mon Dieu! - My God!
Est-ce que ça te plaît? - Do you like it?
J'adore - I love it