FIC: The Last Dance (1/1) B&S NC-17
TITLE: The Last Dance
AUTHOR: Laura Smith
PAIRING: Kevin/OMC
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: 'Cause when I'm bad, I'm so so bad
DISCLAIMER: Brothers & Sisters and all the characters therein belong to people who are not me. I make no profit from this, I just like playing with them.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The characters of "John" and "Carolyn" and "Dane" mentioned herein are from an RP and are, really, sort of inconsequential. It's a different RP from the one that you're used to of John, if you are, but he's still the same John. Sort of. Written for the Getting Lucky! Challenge-A-Thon Thing
He’s gorgeous.
That’s the first thought in Kevin’s mind when he sees him dancing, moving to the music like he’s made for it. His jeans ride low on his hips and his t-shirt is tight, muscles perfectly defined under the cotton. He raises his hands in the air and a strip of skin is exposed for Kevin to see, dark hair curling down into the waistband of his jeans, disappearing like a cartoon arrow pointing Kevin’s eyes to the bulge of flesh beneath the denim.
Kevin looks up and catches him watching. Kevin can feel the heat pooling in his stomach, spreading through him to his own cock, can feel the pounding of his blood through his veins. He buys a drink to buy some time, wondering what to do, what to say.
How not to call him John.
That’s the second thought in Kevin’s head - he looks like John - and it’s the one that’s going to get him into trouble. But it’s the one that can answer all his problems too. Kevin wants John in a million different ways, not the least of which is as his friend, and not the most significant of which is this, this desire. If he can meet this boy - and his eyes say Kevin has an open invitation - then he can burn off this heat and need for John in someone who looks like him, and save everything else for the real thing, the one who matters.
It’s a shitty thing to do, to think, but it’s what’s in Kevin’s head. It’s what might save him, what might make it all right enough that Kevin can go home to LA and not feel like he’s living on the edge of saying something stupid, of ruining everything that matters.
The song ends, or seques into another like they all do at these places, and the boy saunters over, all eyes and hips and legs and cock. He is a boy, Kevin can see that, at least ten years younger, but he’s got laugh lines around his eyes and a smile that makes Kevin think thoughts that Jason would have teased him for, called him sinful. That’s what this boy is, he knows, a sin waiting to happen, a sin wrapped up in denim and cotton and hot, flushed, sweaty skin.
“I’m Brad. And you’re staring.”
“You’re used to it, I’d wager.” Kevin signals the bartender to put the drink on his bill and watches the boy, Brad, smile his thanks. He exudes heat from dancing, and Kevin can smell the sweat on his skin, wonders how it tastes. He wonders if he’s too old for this, picking up boys in bars, in clubs, in places he doesn’t belong, but Brad’s close enough now that it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.
“What’s your name?”
“Kevin.”
“Hello, Kevin.”
Kevin nods and watches Brad take a drink, watches him swallow. Brad fishes an ice cube from his glass and sucks on it then runs it along his neck from just below his ear on one side to the other, taking his time. “Hello, Brad.”
“You live near here?” He’s probably a hustler, but Kevin thinks maybe he needs to get hustled. Get robbed, get rolled, get something. Anything to take off the edge burning his skin. A quick fuck in the alley, a leisurely fuck in his rented bed. He doesn’t care anymore, just wants to stop wanting all the time.
“Close by, yeah.”
“I don’t remember seeing you here before.”
“So you think I’m not memorable?” Kevin smiles and he’s forgotten this, the teasing, the banter, the hot lust that shimmers just beneath his skin. The last part’s a lie, he feels it all the time sitting next to John on the floor, playing the Xbox, feels it when Dane strokes his hand down Kevin’s neck and whispers dirty, filthy promises in Kevin’s ear. But that’s a given or unthinkable and this is full of possibility, of promise. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m saying you’re new in town. And I think I should volunteer myself as the welcoming committee.”
“So you want to show me the town?” Kevin licks his lips and finishes his drink, feeling the warm buzz of the booze flood into the rush of the want.
“No, Kevin,” Brad leans in and breathes in Kevin’s ear. “I want you to show me your bedroom.”
**
The second Kevin shuts the door, he remembers why people say to get them young. They’re hot and hard and aggressive. Brad pushes him back hard against the wood and kisses him, insinuating his body between Kevin’s legs like he’s got a right to be there. He tastes like smoke and booze and other things Kevin can’t identify but seem to go straight to his cock. He thrusts against Brad as forcefully as he can manage, pinned as he is, and earns a low groan for his efforts.
“This isn’t the bedroom,” Kevin reminds him between kisses, his lips feeling bruised and swollen. This kid is all action and little technique, but it’s a nice change from the practiced impulsiveness his sex life has been for too long now. Technique can and will be learned. This…this is innate and disappears all too soon.
“That anxious to be done with me?” Brad smiles and kisses Kevin again, sliding his hands down the arms of Kevin’s suit jacket and then over to his stomach, separating the fabric and pushing it off of Kevin’s shoulders as his hands move back up. “God, why are guys in suits so hot?”
“Because you’re twelve,” Kevin laughs. “Hot for authority figures.”
“What are you? A principal? You going to bend me over your knee and spank me?” Brad thrusts forward and Kevin can feel the pressure of his body give and take as Brad wiggles his ass.
“The suit quality is too good.” Kevin groans as Brad does the wiggle again, all hips and ass. “Guess again.”
“Mmmm. Businessman is too generic. Besides, businessmen only come from Ohio.” He bites Kevin’s lower lip, sucking on it as he pulls away. “Detective?”
“Again, you’re seriously maligning the quality of my suit.”
Brad laughs and pulls back, away long enough to tug off his shirt and toss it away. Kevin groans deep in his throat at the sight of the tattoo that wraps around Brad’s bicep, the sliver of ink that runs along his collarbone.
“Oh, God.”
“You like ink?” Brad teases him, trails his fingers over the collarbone hard so that the skin beneath the color goes red. “Writer?”
Kevin shakes his head and moves in, catching Brad’s wrists and wrapping his fingers around them, turning him so Brad’s bare back is against the door. His tongue traces the path Brad’s fingers left on his skin, feeling the ink slide along his tongue. “Guess again.”
“Oh, fuck.” Brad’s head falls back as Kevin sucks on his skin, leaving marks of his own. “Um…” His hips jerk forward as Kevin’s mouth keeps moving, stealing the sweat gathered in the hollow of Brad’s throat with his tongue. “Fuck.”
Kevin nips the skin just above the bone. “Guess again.”
“Doctor?” Kevin bites harder and Brad’s hips rock off the door again. “Fuck. Fuck. Lawyer?”
“Mmmm.” Kevin licks the flesh now, sucking on it lightly. “We have a winner.” He lifts his head and smiles at Brad. Brad smiles back, his green eyes hot. Kevin falters for a moment - John’s eyes are brown - and then kisses Brad hard, banishing the thought before it can take root, take hold and ruin this. He needs it too much to let it be ruined, needs something to combat the thought of John and Carolyn, together, in love, doing the things that make John blush when he reads the text messages. Needs something to make him forget the feel of John pressed against him, holding him.
“I have…” Brad gets one hand free from Kevin’s loose grip and trails his fingers over the flat skin between Kevin’s hip and his cock. “Another one. Right there.”
Kevin catches Brad’s hand again and slides it over so it’s covering the hard bulge of Kevin’s cock. “Show me.”
With a hot, hard kiss in response, Brad shoves Kevin back and proceeds to strip off the rest of his clothes. Kevin doesn’t move, just watches hungrily as Brad discards leather boots and denim jeans and then finally pushes down the cotton drawn taut over his cock.
Kevin groans deep in his throat, a primal, guttural sound, as he steps in, pushing Brad back against the door and sinking down to his knees in front of him.
The tattoo is a Celtic knot and probably means something to someone, and just looked cool to Brad, but to Kevin, it’s like an engraved invitation. He runs his tongue over it, tracing the intricate design while his hands explore the curves and contours of Brad’s body, trailing up his calves and thighs, cupping his ass as Brad’s breathless gasps penetrate Kevin’s haze and he takes Brad into his mouth.
“Oh. Fuck.” Kevin hears Brad’s head hit the door, the sound loud against the hollow wood and echoing through the near empty apartment. “Oh. Fuck. Kevin.”
Kevin looks up, watching sensation roll over Brad’s expression in waves. He recognizes some - lust, want, ache - and others aren’t hard to decipher - the sheer power play of an older man in a suit on his knees. Kevin can’t bring himself to care one way or another until Brad’s muscles tighten beneath his hands.
Pulling away, Kevin catches his breath as Brad groans desperately, his hands reaching for Kevin’s shoulders, his hips thrusting forward. “You didn’t think it’d be as easy as that, did you?”
Brad laughs, the sound broken with soft gasps for air. “I guess it’s true. What they say.”
Kevin gets to his feet, leaning in and stealing a biting kiss from Brad’s swollen mouth. “What’s that?”
“Lawyers are evil.”
“Lawyers are only evil if they’re on your side and they lose.” Kevin slips his tie free of its knot and lets the silk hang there as he unbuttons his shirt. “You mentioned sightseeing, I believe.”
“I’m already enjoying the sights.” His eyes rake appreciatively over Kevin’s bare chest.
“The city does have its high points.” Kevin reaches out and brushes his fingers over Brad’s cock, his thumb rubbing the slick, wet ridge. “You want to see the view from my bedroom?”
“The only thing I want to see is your mattress when you fuck me into it.” Brad pushes Kevin back toward the short hallway that leads to the bedroom, following him, hips moving with a hungry, aggressive swagger. Kevin sheds his shirt and tie somewhere along the way, unfastening his belt and trousers as they get to the bedroom and Brad tackles him onto the bed with a kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth and Kevin thrusts into it, mouth and body rising up to meet Brad’s downward stroke.
It’s a few moments of wrestling, slick skin and sweat sliding, until Kevin rolls them over, pinning Brad beneath him. Brad’s cock is curved and hard, flushed red and wet. Kevin kisses him and pulls back, raking his fingers over Brad’s stomach and making his cock jerk. “Don’t move.”
Kevin hurries into the bathroom and grabs the lube and condoms from his toiletry bag, not allowing himself to think of the fantasy of John showing up on his doorstep that led to him throwing them in there in the first place. He moves back to the bedroom, groaning at the sight of Brad on his elbows and knees, head bent, a pillow cushioning his cock and his ass high in the air.
“You moved,” Kevin manages to say as he settles on the bed between Brad’s spread legs.
“Are you complaining?”
Kevin slides his hand up Brad’s back, feeling each knob of his spine as Brad arches into his touch. “No.”
“Then fuck me.”
Kevin groans again and pulls his hand away, putting the condom on. Brad rolls his hips, rubbing against the pillow. Kneeling behind him, Kevin presses his hand to the base of Brad’s spine. “You’d better quit that. Not quite ready for you to come.”
Brad growls but stops moving. “Then fuck me.” The lube makes him shiver as Kevin pours it against the high curve of his ass. Kevin laughs softly as he drags his fingers down through it.
“So impatient.”
“Kevin.” Brad bites out his name, drawing out the last syllable as Kevin presses a finger inside him.
It doesn’t take long until Bread is ready and begging and Kevin is aching. He grabs Brad’s hips and runs his cock against him before thrusting, burying himself in Brad’s tight heat.
They rock together in the sounds of greedy flesh and wordless pleas. Brad’s fingers dig into the sheets as Kevin’s dig into Brad’s hips. Every hard stroke slides Brad’s cock against the pillow until he gasps and stills against Kevin’s forward motion, shuddering as he comes. Kevin’s back arches as Brad tightens around him and he shifts his grip, holding Brad steady as he thrusts in harder, faster, driving himself deeper until he comes, shivering as he slumps, his breath gasping over Brad’s sweaty skin.
**
Kevin isn’t surprised to wake up alone. He’s also not surprised to find the cash in his wallet missing. He is surprised to find a note scribbled on one of his legal pads. Brad’s handwriting is as bold as he is.
You talk in your sleep. Whoever John is? He’s one lucky guy.
AUTHOR: Laura Smith
PAIRING: Kevin/OMC
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: 'Cause when I'm bad, I'm so so bad
DISCLAIMER: Brothers & Sisters and all the characters therein belong to people who are not me. I make no profit from this, I just like playing with them.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The characters of "John" and "Carolyn" and "Dane" mentioned herein are from an RP and are, really, sort of inconsequential. It's a different RP from the one that you're used to of John, if you are, but he's still the same John. Sort of. Written for the Getting Lucky! Challenge-A-Thon Thing
He’s gorgeous.
That’s the first thought in Kevin’s mind when he sees him dancing, moving to the music like he’s made for it. His jeans ride low on his hips and his t-shirt is tight, muscles perfectly defined under the cotton. He raises his hands in the air and a strip of skin is exposed for Kevin to see, dark hair curling down into the waistband of his jeans, disappearing like a cartoon arrow pointing Kevin’s eyes to the bulge of flesh beneath the denim.
Kevin looks up and catches him watching. Kevin can feel the heat pooling in his stomach, spreading through him to his own cock, can feel the pounding of his blood through his veins. He buys a drink to buy some time, wondering what to do, what to say.
How not to call him John.
That’s the second thought in Kevin’s head - he looks like John - and it’s the one that’s going to get him into trouble. But it’s the one that can answer all his problems too. Kevin wants John in a million different ways, not the least of which is as his friend, and not the most significant of which is this, this desire. If he can meet this boy - and his eyes say Kevin has an open invitation - then he can burn off this heat and need for John in someone who looks like him, and save everything else for the real thing, the one who matters.
It’s a shitty thing to do, to think, but it’s what’s in Kevin’s head. It’s what might save him, what might make it all right enough that Kevin can go home to LA and not feel like he’s living on the edge of saying something stupid, of ruining everything that matters.
The song ends, or seques into another like they all do at these places, and the boy saunters over, all eyes and hips and legs and cock. He is a boy, Kevin can see that, at least ten years younger, but he’s got laugh lines around his eyes and a smile that makes Kevin think thoughts that Jason would have teased him for, called him sinful. That’s what this boy is, he knows, a sin waiting to happen, a sin wrapped up in denim and cotton and hot, flushed, sweaty skin.
“I’m Brad. And you’re staring.”
“You’re used to it, I’d wager.” Kevin signals the bartender to put the drink on his bill and watches the boy, Brad, smile his thanks. He exudes heat from dancing, and Kevin can smell the sweat on his skin, wonders how it tastes. He wonders if he’s too old for this, picking up boys in bars, in clubs, in places he doesn’t belong, but Brad’s close enough now that it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.
“What’s your name?”
“Kevin.”
“Hello, Kevin.”
Kevin nods and watches Brad take a drink, watches him swallow. Brad fishes an ice cube from his glass and sucks on it then runs it along his neck from just below his ear on one side to the other, taking his time. “Hello, Brad.”
“You live near here?” He’s probably a hustler, but Kevin thinks maybe he needs to get hustled. Get robbed, get rolled, get something. Anything to take off the edge burning his skin. A quick fuck in the alley, a leisurely fuck in his rented bed. He doesn’t care anymore, just wants to stop wanting all the time.
“Close by, yeah.”
“I don’t remember seeing you here before.”
“So you think I’m not memorable?” Kevin smiles and he’s forgotten this, the teasing, the banter, the hot lust that shimmers just beneath his skin. The last part’s a lie, he feels it all the time sitting next to John on the floor, playing the Xbox, feels it when Dane strokes his hand down Kevin’s neck and whispers dirty, filthy promises in Kevin’s ear. But that’s a given or unthinkable and this is full of possibility, of promise. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m saying you’re new in town. And I think I should volunteer myself as the welcoming committee.”
“So you want to show me the town?” Kevin licks his lips and finishes his drink, feeling the warm buzz of the booze flood into the rush of the want.
“No, Kevin,” Brad leans in and breathes in Kevin’s ear. “I want you to show me your bedroom.”
**
The second Kevin shuts the door, he remembers why people say to get them young. They’re hot and hard and aggressive. Brad pushes him back hard against the wood and kisses him, insinuating his body between Kevin’s legs like he’s got a right to be there. He tastes like smoke and booze and other things Kevin can’t identify but seem to go straight to his cock. He thrusts against Brad as forcefully as he can manage, pinned as he is, and earns a low groan for his efforts.
“This isn’t the bedroom,” Kevin reminds him between kisses, his lips feeling bruised and swollen. This kid is all action and little technique, but it’s a nice change from the practiced impulsiveness his sex life has been for too long now. Technique can and will be learned. This…this is innate and disappears all too soon.
“That anxious to be done with me?” Brad smiles and kisses Kevin again, sliding his hands down the arms of Kevin’s suit jacket and then over to his stomach, separating the fabric and pushing it off of Kevin’s shoulders as his hands move back up. “God, why are guys in suits so hot?”
“Because you’re twelve,” Kevin laughs. “Hot for authority figures.”
“What are you? A principal? You going to bend me over your knee and spank me?” Brad thrusts forward and Kevin can feel the pressure of his body give and take as Brad wiggles his ass.
“The suit quality is too good.” Kevin groans as Brad does the wiggle again, all hips and ass. “Guess again.”
“Mmmm. Businessman is too generic. Besides, businessmen only come from Ohio.” He bites Kevin’s lower lip, sucking on it as he pulls away. “Detective?”
“Again, you’re seriously maligning the quality of my suit.”
Brad laughs and pulls back, away long enough to tug off his shirt and toss it away. Kevin groans deep in his throat at the sight of the tattoo that wraps around Brad’s bicep, the sliver of ink that runs along his collarbone.
“Oh, God.”
“You like ink?” Brad teases him, trails his fingers over the collarbone hard so that the skin beneath the color goes red. “Writer?”
Kevin shakes his head and moves in, catching Brad’s wrists and wrapping his fingers around them, turning him so Brad’s bare back is against the door. His tongue traces the path Brad’s fingers left on his skin, feeling the ink slide along his tongue. “Guess again.”
“Oh, fuck.” Brad’s head falls back as Kevin sucks on his skin, leaving marks of his own. “Um…” His hips jerk forward as Kevin’s mouth keeps moving, stealing the sweat gathered in the hollow of Brad’s throat with his tongue. “Fuck.”
Kevin nips the skin just above the bone. “Guess again.”
“Doctor?” Kevin bites harder and Brad’s hips rock off the door again. “Fuck. Fuck. Lawyer?”
“Mmmm.” Kevin licks the flesh now, sucking on it lightly. “We have a winner.” He lifts his head and smiles at Brad. Brad smiles back, his green eyes hot. Kevin falters for a moment - John’s eyes are brown - and then kisses Brad hard, banishing the thought before it can take root, take hold and ruin this. He needs it too much to let it be ruined, needs something to combat the thought of John and Carolyn, together, in love, doing the things that make John blush when he reads the text messages. Needs something to make him forget the feel of John pressed against him, holding him.
“I have…” Brad gets one hand free from Kevin’s loose grip and trails his fingers over the flat skin between Kevin’s hip and his cock. “Another one. Right there.”
Kevin catches Brad’s hand again and slides it over so it’s covering the hard bulge of Kevin’s cock. “Show me.”
With a hot, hard kiss in response, Brad shoves Kevin back and proceeds to strip off the rest of his clothes. Kevin doesn’t move, just watches hungrily as Brad discards leather boots and denim jeans and then finally pushes down the cotton drawn taut over his cock.
Kevin groans deep in his throat, a primal, guttural sound, as he steps in, pushing Brad back against the door and sinking down to his knees in front of him.
The tattoo is a Celtic knot and probably means something to someone, and just looked cool to Brad, but to Kevin, it’s like an engraved invitation. He runs his tongue over it, tracing the intricate design while his hands explore the curves and contours of Brad’s body, trailing up his calves and thighs, cupping his ass as Brad’s breathless gasps penetrate Kevin’s haze and he takes Brad into his mouth.
“Oh. Fuck.” Kevin hears Brad’s head hit the door, the sound loud against the hollow wood and echoing through the near empty apartment. “Oh. Fuck. Kevin.”
Kevin looks up, watching sensation roll over Brad’s expression in waves. He recognizes some - lust, want, ache - and others aren’t hard to decipher - the sheer power play of an older man in a suit on his knees. Kevin can’t bring himself to care one way or another until Brad’s muscles tighten beneath his hands.
Pulling away, Kevin catches his breath as Brad groans desperately, his hands reaching for Kevin’s shoulders, his hips thrusting forward. “You didn’t think it’d be as easy as that, did you?”
Brad laughs, the sound broken with soft gasps for air. “I guess it’s true. What they say.”
Kevin gets to his feet, leaning in and stealing a biting kiss from Brad’s swollen mouth. “What’s that?”
“Lawyers are evil.”
“Lawyers are only evil if they’re on your side and they lose.” Kevin slips his tie free of its knot and lets the silk hang there as he unbuttons his shirt. “You mentioned sightseeing, I believe.”
“I’m already enjoying the sights.” His eyes rake appreciatively over Kevin’s bare chest.
“The city does have its high points.” Kevin reaches out and brushes his fingers over Brad’s cock, his thumb rubbing the slick, wet ridge. “You want to see the view from my bedroom?”
“The only thing I want to see is your mattress when you fuck me into it.” Brad pushes Kevin back toward the short hallway that leads to the bedroom, following him, hips moving with a hungry, aggressive swagger. Kevin sheds his shirt and tie somewhere along the way, unfastening his belt and trousers as they get to the bedroom and Brad tackles him onto the bed with a kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth and Kevin thrusts into it, mouth and body rising up to meet Brad’s downward stroke.
It’s a few moments of wrestling, slick skin and sweat sliding, until Kevin rolls them over, pinning Brad beneath him. Brad’s cock is curved and hard, flushed red and wet. Kevin kisses him and pulls back, raking his fingers over Brad’s stomach and making his cock jerk. “Don’t move.”
Kevin hurries into the bathroom and grabs the lube and condoms from his toiletry bag, not allowing himself to think of the fantasy of John showing up on his doorstep that led to him throwing them in there in the first place. He moves back to the bedroom, groaning at the sight of Brad on his elbows and knees, head bent, a pillow cushioning his cock and his ass high in the air.
“You moved,” Kevin manages to say as he settles on the bed between Brad’s spread legs.
“Are you complaining?”
Kevin slides his hand up Brad’s back, feeling each knob of his spine as Brad arches into his touch. “No.”
“Then fuck me.”
Kevin groans again and pulls his hand away, putting the condom on. Brad rolls his hips, rubbing against the pillow. Kneeling behind him, Kevin presses his hand to the base of Brad’s spine. “You’d better quit that. Not quite ready for you to come.”
Brad growls but stops moving. “Then fuck me.” The lube makes him shiver as Kevin pours it against the high curve of his ass. Kevin laughs softly as he drags his fingers down through it.
“So impatient.”
“Kevin.” Brad bites out his name, drawing out the last syllable as Kevin presses a finger inside him.
It doesn’t take long until Bread is ready and begging and Kevin is aching. He grabs Brad’s hips and runs his cock against him before thrusting, burying himself in Brad’s tight heat.
They rock together in the sounds of greedy flesh and wordless pleas. Brad’s fingers dig into the sheets as Kevin’s dig into Brad’s hips. Every hard stroke slides Brad’s cock against the pillow until he gasps and stills against Kevin’s forward motion, shuddering as he comes. Kevin’s back arches as Brad tightens around him and he shifts his grip, holding Brad steady as he thrusts in harder, faster, driving himself deeper until he comes, shivering as he slumps, his breath gasping over Brad’s sweaty skin.
**
Kevin isn’t surprised to wake up alone. He’s also not surprised to find the cash in his wallet missing. He is surprised to find a note scribbled on one of his legal pads. Brad’s handwriting is as bold as he is.
You talk in your sleep. Whoever John is? He’s one lucky guy.