Night on the Town
Title: Night on the Town
Fandom: Glee RPF
Ship: Mark/Chris
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, boy touching
Summary: Written in response to an old prompt on glee_kink_meme:
Chris/Mark RPS
Chris seduces Mark. Preferably in a public place, where anyone could catch them.
Disclaimer: Most definitely not real
So yeah, this is my first fic ever. The world needs more Mark/Chris RPS; I hope this is worthy of them! Feedback & concrit welcome!
It's not like the thought had never crossed his mind, but Jesus Christ, hot as he is the kid's only 19. Nine-fuckin'-teen! And look at him, all pale and sweet (yeah, I bet he's real sweet) and innocent... shit he could pass for 16. Which is why, fake ID or not, TV star or not, there was no fuckin' way Chris was getting past this bouncer tonight. Shit, everyone was ready to blow off steam after a long week of filming, and call it blind optimism, but no one thought they'd have a problem getting their boy (boy!) into a club. But apparently tough, tattooed bouncers aren't their biggest demographic. The bouncer just laughs when Chris slaps down his ID, then motions for him to turn right back around and out the door. Doesn't even waste his breath to talk, just waves goodbye to him. Chris looks like he's gonna cry, which sure as hell isn't helping his case any. So Mark grabs his hand (soft and small and perfect) and walks out with him.
Outside on the sidewalk, tears already gone, Chris unleashes a litany of the foulest curses Mark has ever heard escape those (pretty pink) lips. “Goddamn cocksucking fucker, all I want is a fuckin' beer and a grope on the dance floor. What's that guy's fuckin' problem anyway?” Mark's jaw just about hits the sidewalk and he can't help it, but he laughs.
“Jesus Christ, Chris, what the hell? You kiss your mother with that mouth? Chill, dude, I can get you a fuckin' beer... wait, did you say you wanted a grope on the dance floor??”
Chris's eyes (like the ocean, green, blue, green, gray, cool... wait, no, HOT) flash at him. “You fuckin' heard me. I'm not the choirboy you all seem to think I am. Have you ever been to a gay bar? It's one big hands-fest and I for one like being in the middle of it.”
“Uh, dude, first of all you're kinda freaking me out; second of all, that wasn't a gay bar, so you probably would have been disappointed anyway.”
“Shut the fuck up, Mark. I'm not stupid. Yes, I know it wasn't a gay bar, but "we" are everywhere, you know. Get me out there and I'd be getting felt up before the first song ended.” He ends with a whimper that sounds a bit like, not fair.
Mark has been rendered completely speechless by this conversation. Who the hell was this person in front of him and what had he done with the Chris he knew (& loved?)? Had they all been wrong about this porcelain angel of theirs? Because calm, cool, virginal Chris was nowhere to be seen, and that version alone was enough to get Mark hard most days. This firecracker popping with raw sexual energy was a revelation, and Mark didn't know how much more he could stand.
“Look, Chris, I'm sorry we couldn't get you in. Maybe we could just go back and chill for a while. I'll pick us up a 6-pack or whatever you want...”
“NO! I'm not in a 'just chill' mood. C'mon, we're going someplace where I know I can get in. Text Lea and let her know we'll meet up with them later at the hotel. I don't want her calling the cops thinking I got fuckin' kidnapped or something.” The frustration in his voice is obvious as he mutters under his breath, “Always thinks I need a fuckin' babysitter, fuck!”
“Hey, calm down, I'm not your babysitter. Lead the way, Chris, you sound like you need to be in charge tonight, so I'll just come along for the ride.” Chris smiles up at him and for a second Mark is terrified... the glint in his friend's eyes is so unexpected (even after this whacked out conversation) that he almost stumbles backward.
“You're on,” Chris whispers, and struts (Jesus!) down the sidewalk, pulling Mark behind him. Mark wonders whether this will turn out to be the best decision or biggest mistake of his life.
20 minutes later finds them in the doorway of a club pulsing with electronic dance music, the strobe lights from inside flashing bright patterns on the sidewalk. The bouncer lights up when he sees Chris in line. He doesn't look much different from the bouncer in the last club, but he fuckin' squeals as he pulls Chris into a bear hug that looks like it will crush the boy. Mark flinches, and quickly hopes no one noticed. He's just being protective, right? That guy could fit Chris in his pocket.
“Oh, Chris, baby boy, you came back! We've missed you!” Mark wonders at that; when the hell had Chris been to this place before? The hulk whistles appreciatively, “And who is this gorgeous specimen you've brought us tonight, babe?”
Chris blushes. “Aw, AJ, this is my friend Mark. He works with me, you know, on the TV show?”
AJ laughs, “So modest, like your show isn't the biggest thing around. Nice to meet you Mark, I'm AJ. You boys have fun inside.” He lets his eyes roam over Mark, “And Chris? Don't do anything I wouldn't do.”
Chris's laugh is so deep and husky that Mark doesn't really believe it came from him. “Mark's just tagging along tonight cuz I couldn't get into another club with the rest of the cast. I hope I won't embarrass him too much. You know how straight guys are; they get a little wigged out with the gay stuff, right?” AJ chuckles as Mark's eyes widen when he feels Chris's hand slap him hard on the ass. Mark's head spins and he start to wonder (not for the first time since he met Chris) how solid the wall between gay and straight really is. He just about gets his bearings when Chris grabs his hand and tugs him into the club.
The music seems intent on pounding Mark's brain right out of his head. Chris doesn't let go of his hand as he makes his way through the crowd to get to the bar; for a little guy he sure doesn't let anyone push him around. It doesn't take him any time to catch the bartender's attention and he gets a beer for each of them. Mark is always amazed that Chris is a beer guy; one look at him and you'd think he'd go for something bright colored with a fuckin' umbrella in it. Mark's glad Chris isn't totally a gay cliché.
10 minutes later and they're both done their beers and Chris is dancing while Mark leans back and takes it all (well, just Chris, really) in. Chris's skin glows in the bright strobe lights and he looks free in a way Mark hasn't seen before in the year or so they've known each other. Mark marvels at the ease with which Chris carries himself here and feels sad for a second because he realizes that the Chris he sees everyday is a shell built for self-protection. This vibrant boy, so confident, so so, is a revelation, and Mark decides then and there that he'll do whatever he can to make sure Chris feels comfortable enough around him and the rest of the cast that he can be this wonderful, true version of himself whenever possible. This Chris is too good, too right, to only be allowed out in a bar dancing with strange men.
Wait a fuckin' second, strange men? Mark lost himself in thought for long enough for Chris to attract some attention, it appears. Three guys have formed a circle around him and Chris is lost in the music, dancing his little heart out. Mark's heart, however, is wrapped in barbed wire at the moment. He wants to rush in and snatch Chris out of the middle of the circle. But Chris's babysitter comment from earlier comes back to him just in time, and he keeps just enough self-restraint to hold himself back from playing the protector role. Chris does look like he's enjoying himself, and for the moment the guys all appear to be keeping their hands to themselves. Mark grunts and settles back against the bar, but doesn't take his eyes off the group for one single second.
The next song starts and Mark expects the guys to move on; but instead they all lock arms and tug their circle tighter around Chris. Mark feels his teeth grinding and his fists clenching as he finally sees contact between Chris and the three other men. One has his hand on Chris's ass, as Chris wraps his arms around the neck of another and leans his whole body in and just rubs on him like a cat. Mark thinks he might explode; this is just going too far now. The guy next to Mark at the bar looks at him with wide eyes, and Mark realizes he's growling out loud. He can't take it anymore; the urge to protect (yeah, protect, that's what that is) Chris too overpowering now for him to fight it. He pushes forward and stalks toward the little group.
When he reaches them (why is it so much harder for him to muscle his way through the crowd than it was for Chris?), Chris catches his eye before any of the other guys notice he's standing there. There's a flash in Chris's eyes that Mark can't place. He doesn't seem to be saying, “Help me”; he seems to be saying, “Yes!” He takes one hand from around the guy's neck and cups Mark's cheek. “Having fun?” he purrs.
Mark wobbles and grabs that little hand like a life raft. Chris smiles. Then sways and breaks the circle with a little wave to the three men. “It's been lovely, boys, thanks for everything!” They all look a little disappointed, but mumble their goodbyes once they get a good look at Mark.
“So?” Chris says, one eyebrow raised, as he puts his other hand on Mark's shoulder. Mark still hasn't let go of the hand on his cheek.
“So what?” Mark says, dragging air into his lungs as Chris's handprints burn on his body. So wrong, let's get him home... so right, please don't let this end EVER.
“Are you having fun?” There's that purr again. Mark is completely lost now, and can only nod, eyes locked on Chris's. They're swaying together and Mark can't tell if they're dancing or if his legs are going to collapse from under him at any second.
“Who are you?” He manages to get out. Brain is shutting down and everything else is taking over and Chris is taking over and Mark can't hold on much longer.
“Chris. And you said I was in charge tonight, I hope you're not changing your mind now. Cuz I really wanna kiss you, and dance with you, and rub against you. Did you see me with those guys? I was doing that for you, you know. I know you think I'm just a kid, and you don't want to, I don't know, spoil me or something. I just had to show you that I'm so not a kid. Remember when you were 19, Mark. Weren't you horny all the time? C'mon, I know you remember what that feels like. Why do you think it would be any different for me? I'm gay, but I'm still a boy and I still think about sex like 50 million times a day, and at least 49 million of those times I think about it with you.”
Mark's rapidly dwindling mental capacity dawns for just a second to note that now he and Chris are pressed against each other from forehead to knee, and the fit is indescribable. He's beyond fighting with himself, and finally just sways to the music, feeling Chris's perfect body move with his. He can only nod now as Chris tilts his head to press a kiss to his jaw. The music picks up and Chris grinds into him in a way that makes him breathless. His hands find Chris's ass and he grinds back. Chris's moan is full of victory and lust.
“Oh yeah, oh Mark, please. We're leaving, NOW.” Mark doesn't think he can even move, but Chris's tongue in his ear somehow makes him melt while at the same time giving his legs strength enough to walk out of the club. He totally misses the look of approval on AJ's face when he opens the door for Chris to lead Mark back outside.
On the sidewalk, Chris whispers in Mark's ear all the dirty things he's going to do to him when they get back to the hotel. “Mark, it's still early. We've got a few hours before everyone comes back. Let's go, I need you naked, I need you in me. It's gonna be so good, Mark, you'll see.” Mark is incapable of forming words now, totally under the spell of the tiny sex machine with his arms wrapped around Mark's waist. He just groans and nods and leans in for another kiss.
Chris smiles and thinks, “That was too easy.”
Fandom: Glee RPF
Ship: Mark/Chris
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, boy touching
Summary: Written in response to an old prompt on glee_kink_meme:
Chris/Mark RPS
Chris seduces Mark. Preferably in a public place, where anyone could catch them.
Disclaimer: Most definitely not real
So yeah, this is my first fic ever. The world needs more Mark/Chris RPS; I hope this is worthy of them! Feedback & concrit welcome!
It's not like the thought had never crossed his mind, but Jesus Christ, hot as he is the kid's only 19. Nine-fuckin'-teen! And look at him, all pale and sweet (yeah, I bet he's real sweet) and innocent... shit he could pass for 16. Which is why, fake ID or not, TV star or not, there was no fuckin' way Chris was getting past this bouncer tonight. Shit, everyone was ready to blow off steam after a long week of filming, and call it blind optimism, but no one thought they'd have a problem getting their boy (boy!) into a club. But apparently tough, tattooed bouncers aren't their biggest demographic. The bouncer just laughs when Chris slaps down his ID, then motions for him to turn right back around and out the door. Doesn't even waste his breath to talk, just waves goodbye to him. Chris looks like he's gonna cry, which sure as hell isn't helping his case any. So Mark grabs his hand (soft and small and perfect) and walks out with him.
Outside on the sidewalk, tears already gone, Chris unleashes a litany of the foulest curses Mark has ever heard escape those (pretty pink) lips. “Goddamn cocksucking fucker, all I want is a fuckin' beer and a grope on the dance floor. What's that guy's fuckin' problem anyway?” Mark's jaw just about hits the sidewalk and he can't help it, but he laughs.
“Jesus Christ, Chris, what the hell? You kiss your mother with that mouth? Chill, dude, I can get you a fuckin' beer... wait, did you say you wanted a grope on the dance floor??”
Chris's eyes (like the ocean, green, blue, green, gray, cool... wait, no, HOT) flash at him. “You fuckin' heard me. I'm not the choirboy you all seem to think I am. Have you ever been to a gay bar? It's one big hands-fest and I for one like being in the middle of it.”
“Uh, dude, first of all you're kinda freaking me out; second of all, that wasn't a gay bar, so you probably would have been disappointed anyway.”
“Shut the fuck up, Mark. I'm not stupid. Yes, I know it wasn't a gay bar, but "we" are everywhere, you know. Get me out there and I'd be getting felt up before the first song ended.” He ends with a whimper that sounds a bit like, not fair.
Mark has been rendered completely speechless by this conversation. Who the hell was this person in front of him and what had he done with the Chris he knew (& loved?)? Had they all been wrong about this porcelain angel of theirs? Because calm, cool, virginal Chris was nowhere to be seen, and that version alone was enough to get Mark hard most days. This firecracker popping with raw sexual energy was a revelation, and Mark didn't know how much more he could stand.
“Look, Chris, I'm sorry we couldn't get you in. Maybe we could just go back and chill for a while. I'll pick us up a 6-pack or whatever you want...”
“NO! I'm not in a 'just chill' mood. C'mon, we're going someplace where I know I can get in. Text Lea and let her know we'll meet up with them later at the hotel. I don't want her calling the cops thinking I got fuckin' kidnapped or something.” The frustration in his voice is obvious as he mutters under his breath, “Always thinks I need a fuckin' babysitter, fuck!”
“Hey, calm down, I'm not your babysitter. Lead the way, Chris, you sound like you need to be in charge tonight, so I'll just come along for the ride.” Chris smiles up at him and for a second Mark is terrified... the glint in his friend's eyes is so unexpected (even after this whacked out conversation) that he almost stumbles backward.
“You're on,” Chris whispers, and struts (Jesus!) down the sidewalk, pulling Mark behind him. Mark wonders whether this will turn out to be the best decision or biggest mistake of his life.
20 minutes later finds them in the doorway of a club pulsing with electronic dance music, the strobe lights from inside flashing bright patterns on the sidewalk. The bouncer lights up when he sees Chris in line. He doesn't look much different from the bouncer in the last club, but he fuckin' squeals as he pulls Chris into a bear hug that looks like it will crush the boy. Mark flinches, and quickly hopes no one noticed. He's just being protective, right? That guy could fit Chris in his pocket.
“Oh, Chris, baby boy, you came back! We've missed you!” Mark wonders at that; when the hell had Chris been to this place before? The hulk whistles appreciatively, “And who is this gorgeous specimen you've brought us tonight, babe?”
Chris blushes. “Aw, AJ, this is my friend Mark. He works with me, you know, on the TV show?”
AJ laughs, “So modest, like your show isn't the biggest thing around. Nice to meet you Mark, I'm AJ. You boys have fun inside.” He lets his eyes roam over Mark, “And Chris? Don't do anything I wouldn't do.”
Chris's laugh is so deep and husky that Mark doesn't really believe it came from him. “Mark's just tagging along tonight cuz I couldn't get into another club with the rest of the cast. I hope I won't embarrass him too much. You know how straight guys are; they get a little wigged out with the gay stuff, right?” AJ chuckles as Mark's eyes widen when he feels Chris's hand slap him hard on the ass. Mark's head spins and he start to wonder (not for the first time since he met Chris) how solid the wall between gay and straight really is. He just about gets his bearings when Chris grabs his hand and tugs him into the club.
The music seems intent on pounding Mark's brain right out of his head. Chris doesn't let go of his hand as he makes his way through the crowd to get to the bar; for a little guy he sure doesn't let anyone push him around. It doesn't take him any time to catch the bartender's attention and he gets a beer for each of them. Mark is always amazed that Chris is a beer guy; one look at him and you'd think he'd go for something bright colored with a fuckin' umbrella in it. Mark's glad Chris isn't totally a gay cliché.
10 minutes later and they're both done their beers and Chris is dancing while Mark leans back and takes it all (well, just Chris, really) in. Chris's skin glows in the bright strobe lights and he looks free in a way Mark hasn't seen before in the year or so they've known each other. Mark marvels at the ease with which Chris carries himself here and feels sad for a second because he realizes that the Chris he sees everyday is a shell built for self-protection. This vibrant boy, so confident, so so, is a revelation, and Mark decides then and there that he'll do whatever he can to make sure Chris feels comfortable enough around him and the rest of the cast that he can be this wonderful, true version of himself whenever possible. This Chris is too good, too right, to only be allowed out in a bar dancing with strange men.
Wait a fuckin' second, strange men? Mark lost himself in thought for long enough for Chris to attract some attention, it appears. Three guys have formed a circle around him and Chris is lost in the music, dancing his little heart out. Mark's heart, however, is wrapped in barbed wire at the moment. He wants to rush in and snatch Chris out of the middle of the circle. But Chris's babysitter comment from earlier comes back to him just in time, and he keeps just enough self-restraint to hold himself back from playing the protector role. Chris does look like he's enjoying himself, and for the moment the guys all appear to be keeping their hands to themselves. Mark grunts and settles back against the bar, but doesn't take his eyes off the group for one single second.
The next song starts and Mark expects the guys to move on; but instead they all lock arms and tug their circle tighter around Chris. Mark feels his teeth grinding and his fists clenching as he finally sees contact between Chris and the three other men. One has his hand on Chris's ass, as Chris wraps his arms around the neck of another and leans his whole body in and just rubs on him like a cat. Mark thinks he might explode; this is just going too far now. The guy next to Mark at the bar looks at him with wide eyes, and Mark realizes he's growling out loud. He can't take it anymore; the urge to protect (yeah, protect, that's what that is) Chris too overpowering now for him to fight it. He pushes forward and stalks toward the little group.
When he reaches them (why is it so much harder for him to muscle his way through the crowd than it was for Chris?), Chris catches his eye before any of the other guys notice he's standing there. There's a flash in Chris's eyes that Mark can't place. He doesn't seem to be saying, “Help me”; he seems to be saying, “Yes!” He takes one hand from around the guy's neck and cups Mark's cheek. “Having fun?” he purrs.
Mark wobbles and grabs that little hand like a life raft. Chris smiles. Then sways and breaks the circle with a little wave to the three men. “It's been lovely, boys, thanks for everything!” They all look a little disappointed, but mumble their goodbyes once they get a good look at Mark.
“So?” Chris says, one eyebrow raised, as he puts his other hand on Mark's shoulder. Mark still hasn't let go of the hand on his cheek.
“So what?” Mark says, dragging air into his lungs as Chris's handprints burn on his body. So wrong, let's get him home... so right, please don't let this end EVER.
“Are you having fun?” There's that purr again. Mark is completely lost now, and can only nod, eyes locked on Chris's. They're swaying together and Mark can't tell if they're dancing or if his legs are going to collapse from under him at any second.
“Who are you?” He manages to get out. Brain is shutting down and everything else is taking over and Chris is taking over and Mark can't hold on much longer.
“Chris. And you said I was in charge tonight, I hope you're not changing your mind now. Cuz I really wanna kiss you, and dance with you, and rub against you. Did you see me with those guys? I was doing that for you, you know. I know you think I'm just a kid, and you don't want to, I don't know, spoil me or something. I just had to show you that I'm so not a kid. Remember when you were 19, Mark. Weren't you horny all the time? C'mon, I know you remember what that feels like. Why do you think it would be any different for me? I'm gay, but I'm still a boy and I still think about sex like 50 million times a day, and at least 49 million of those times I think about it with you.”
Mark's rapidly dwindling mental capacity dawns for just a second to note that now he and Chris are pressed against each other from forehead to knee, and the fit is indescribable. He's beyond fighting with himself, and finally just sways to the music, feeling Chris's perfect body move with his. He can only nod now as Chris tilts his head to press a kiss to his jaw. The music picks up and Chris grinds into him in a way that makes him breathless. His hands find Chris's ass and he grinds back. Chris's moan is full of victory and lust.
“Oh yeah, oh Mark, please. We're leaving, NOW.” Mark doesn't think he can even move, but Chris's tongue in his ear somehow makes him melt while at the same time giving his legs strength enough to walk out of the club. He totally misses the look of approval on AJ's face when he opens the door for Chris to lead Mark back outside.
On the sidewalk, Chris whispers in Mark's ear all the dirty things he's going to do to him when they get back to the hotel. “Mark, it's still early. We've got a few hours before everyone comes back. Let's go, I need you naked, I need you in me. It's gonna be so good, Mark, you'll see.” Mark is incapable of forming words now, totally under the spell of the tiny sex machine with his arms wrapped around Mark's waist. He just groans and nods and leans in for another kiss.
Chris smiles and thinks, “That was too easy.”