[Fic] Krale -- Grand Prize, NC-17
Title: Grand Prize
Fandom: American Idol
Pairing: Kris Allen/Cale Mills
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 500
Summary: Five drabbles based on the five senses.
Notes: Unbeta’d. For the krale4real challenge.
See
The night is pitched in soft light provided by the haze of a nearby streetlamp. It’s dark enough to hide in the shadow of the building, but they are still able to find the lines of the other’s body. Cale follows the curve of Kris’s silhouette with a steady hold. Kris lets his head fall back and Cale can see the shine of the half-moon in Kris’s heavy-lidded eyes. Kris’s messy, short mane is rustled by a passing breeze. His eyes close as Cale palms the front of his jeans. Kris teeters on his feet, rendered pliant by Cale’s hands.
Hear
Kris’s lips part as he sucks in a breath to hold when Cale pops his fly. The rip of the zipper is no louder than the whispers from Kris. “You don’t have to,” Kris mumbles. “It was just a stupid bet.” Cale leans down to hush him. “I don’t care about the bet, Kris.” A lopsided smirk crosses Kris’s lips, “This is going beyond a kiss, isn’t it? I knew you wanted in these pants.” Cale chuckles. “Stop me when you’ve had enough, smartass.” He slips a hand into Kris’s gray BVDs, which gets a groan strangled by a gasp.
Smell
The stink of the college bar hangs in the air when Kris topples forward. Cale catches Kris against his chest and steadies them. He pauses to breathe in the heady scent of Kris’s cologne mixed with sweat. It’s a woody sort of musk. Kris grabs fistfuls of the front of Cale’s t-shirt and tugs lightly as Cale jerks him off. The smell of hair gel invades Cale’s senses when Kris rocks up on his toes to bump his head against Cale’s chin. The slightest scent of rum wafts under Cale’s nose as Kris earnestly presses a kiss to his neck.
Touch
Cale’s hand is soon coated in pre-come as Kris’s dick heats up in his loose grip. His fingers slide over the slick skin at pace fast enough to have Kris clawing at him with calloused fingertips. Cale feels Kris pant for breath against his neck and plants a firm kiss to Kris’s temple. Kris responds with a few thrusts of his hips that make Cale wince as his hardening dick takes a beating from his own hand. Suddenly, Kris collapses forward and wheezes for breath. He rubs his face against Cale’s warm chest as he nods insistently - he’s almost there.
Taste
Cale ducks to force a kiss that swallows Kris’s moan as he comes in Cale’s hand. Kris tastes like the fruity drink that he ordered at the bar where they’d played a two-person, balls-out tournament of Golden Tee that led to Cale dragging Kris behind a building for his prize. Cale breaks the kiss and wipes his hand over Kris’s exposed hip. Kris frowns and bounces up to drag Cale down to his mouth by wrapping both arms around Cale’s s neck. Cale tolerates the sickly sweet kiss momentarily before pushing past it to suck at Kris’s bitter sweaty jaw.
Fandom: American Idol
Pairing: Kris Allen/Cale Mills
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 500
Summary: Five drabbles based on the five senses.
Notes: Unbeta’d. For the krale4real challenge.
See
The night is pitched in soft light provided by the haze of a nearby streetlamp. It’s dark enough to hide in the shadow of the building, but they are still able to find the lines of the other’s body. Cale follows the curve of Kris’s silhouette with a steady hold. Kris lets his head fall back and Cale can see the shine of the half-moon in Kris’s heavy-lidded eyes. Kris’s messy, short mane is rustled by a passing breeze. His eyes close as Cale palms the front of his jeans. Kris teeters on his feet, rendered pliant by Cale’s hands.
Hear
Kris’s lips part as he sucks in a breath to hold when Cale pops his fly. The rip of the zipper is no louder than the whispers from Kris. “You don’t have to,” Kris mumbles. “It was just a stupid bet.” Cale leans down to hush him. “I don’t care about the bet, Kris.” A lopsided smirk crosses Kris’s lips, “This is going beyond a kiss, isn’t it? I knew you wanted in these pants.” Cale chuckles. “Stop me when you’ve had enough, smartass.” He slips a hand into Kris’s gray BVDs, which gets a groan strangled by a gasp.
Smell
The stink of the college bar hangs in the air when Kris topples forward. Cale catches Kris against his chest and steadies them. He pauses to breathe in the heady scent of Kris’s cologne mixed with sweat. It’s a woody sort of musk. Kris grabs fistfuls of the front of Cale’s t-shirt and tugs lightly as Cale jerks him off. The smell of hair gel invades Cale’s senses when Kris rocks up on his toes to bump his head against Cale’s chin. The slightest scent of rum wafts under Cale’s nose as Kris earnestly presses a kiss to his neck.
Touch
Cale’s hand is soon coated in pre-come as Kris’s dick heats up in his loose grip. His fingers slide over the slick skin at pace fast enough to have Kris clawing at him with calloused fingertips. Cale feels Kris pant for breath against his neck and plants a firm kiss to Kris’s temple. Kris responds with a few thrusts of his hips that make Cale wince as his hardening dick takes a beating from his own hand. Suddenly, Kris collapses forward and wheezes for breath. He rubs his face against Cale’s warm chest as he nods insistently - he’s almost there.
Taste
Cale ducks to force a kiss that swallows Kris’s moan as he comes in Cale’s hand. Kris tastes like the fruity drink that he ordered at the bar where they’d played a two-person, balls-out tournament of Golden Tee that led to Cale dragging Kris behind a building for his prize. Cale breaks the kiss and wipes his hand over Kris’s exposed hip. Kris frowns and bounces up to drag Cale down to his mouth by wrapping both arms around Cale’s s neck. Cale tolerates the sickly sweet kiss momentarily before pushing past it to suck at Kris’s bitter sweaty jaw.