fic: [ai/kab] City Lights (Kris/Cale, PG-13)
Title: City Lights
Pairing: Kris/Cale
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not at all true. Makes no representations as to what these guys are actually like.
Summary: It's reflex for him to grasp Kris's hand when he holds it out, and he's not at all surprised to be yanked closer - Kris and Cale being themselves, in LA and in Asia.
Notes: written for the five senses challenge at krale4real. Five 100 word drabbles, all part of the same narrative.
l.a.
It's the little things that make Kris miss home - looking up at the sky at night and not seeing all the stars, LA's idea of Southern barbeque, playing Super Mario without Daniel's running commentary.
But in the end, as cliche as it sounds, home is where you make it. He's travelled enough to get that.
Right now, it's the worn old jacket Cale just wrapped around him, big enough to swallow his entire frame and smelling faintly of that cologne he's never bothered to figure out the brand for. He just knows that it always makes him feel warm.
cebu
Cale finds Kris just behind the main stage, half-pressed against the wall, eyes fever-bright with excitement when they meet Cale's.
"What are you - "
It's reflex for him to grasp Kris's hand when he holds it out, and he's not at all surprised to be yanked closer, Kris lacing his fingers through Cale's and pressing his palm against the wall.
"Feel that."
That turns out to be the faint tremors that accompany each thump of the music's bass line, like the beating heart of the stage.
Whatever's showing on his face makes Kris grin. "Right, let's go be rock stars."
manila
Cale's had years of Kris batting his eyelashes and pouting at him. He's not immune, which is nice, but he is a lot more resistant than other people.
"Come on. Just try it, you might like it," he says, with about 50 percent of the full-on sleaze he's capable of when sober.
"I've heard that before," Cale laughs. The way he throws his head back triggers a strong flash of sense-memory, Kris's tongue tasting salt against the hollow of his throat -
Just for a second, he has to look away. Then it's back to getting Cale to eat the mysterious-edible-fungus-thing.
kuala lumpur
Cale's spent a lot of time with the older Allens and slept on the couch of every apartment Kris and Katy ever shared. There are some things he knows about Kris that he probably shouldn't.
Like how loopy he is on two hours of sleep, or what bruises made by sharp teeth look like on his hip, or that this particular smile means he's two seconds from disappearing inside his own head, even though they’re surrounded by hundreds of people.
He nudges Kris in the side. "You still with us?"
Kris starts, smile hazy like he's waking up.
"Yeah. Thanks."
singapore
A good concert always makes Kris restless, like he needs to touch someone else because he feels so content in his own skin and needs to share the feeling.
Cale knows, which is why he's waiting with open arms when they get off stage.
"I think there was more groping in the past hour than that one foam party you dragged me to back in college."
"Come on, that was totally not my fault," Kris says, up on his toes, hands light on Cale's face. "Is this okay?"
Say yes.
Cale smiles, rueful, in the instant before their lips meet.
fin.
Notes: All feedback welcome, as usual, and I always reply.
Pairing: Kris/Cale
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not at all true. Makes no representations as to what these guys are actually like.
Summary: It's reflex for him to grasp Kris's hand when he holds it out, and he's not at all surprised to be yanked closer - Kris and Cale being themselves, in LA and in Asia.
Notes: written for the five senses challenge at krale4real. Five 100 word drabbles, all part of the same narrative.
l.a.
It's the little things that make Kris miss home - looking up at the sky at night and not seeing all the stars, LA's idea of Southern barbeque, playing Super Mario without Daniel's running commentary.
But in the end, as cliche as it sounds, home is where you make it. He's travelled enough to get that.
Right now, it's the worn old jacket Cale just wrapped around him, big enough to swallow his entire frame and smelling faintly of that cologne he's never bothered to figure out the brand for. He just knows that it always makes him feel warm.
cebu
Cale finds Kris just behind the main stage, half-pressed against the wall, eyes fever-bright with excitement when they meet Cale's.
"What are you - "
It's reflex for him to grasp Kris's hand when he holds it out, and he's not at all surprised to be yanked closer, Kris lacing his fingers through Cale's and pressing his palm against the wall.
"Feel that."
That turns out to be the faint tremors that accompany each thump of the music's bass line, like the beating heart of the stage.
Whatever's showing on his face makes Kris grin. "Right, let's go be rock stars."
manila
Cale's had years of Kris batting his eyelashes and pouting at him. He's not immune, which is nice, but he is a lot more resistant than other people.
"Come on. Just try it, you might like it," he says, with about 50 percent of the full-on sleaze he's capable of when sober.
"I've heard that before," Cale laughs. The way he throws his head back triggers a strong flash of sense-memory, Kris's tongue tasting salt against the hollow of his throat -
Just for a second, he has to look away. Then it's back to getting Cale to eat the mysterious-edible-fungus-thing.
kuala lumpur
Cale's spent a lot of time with the older Allens and slept on the couch of every apartment Kris and Katy ever shared. There are some things he knows about Kris that he probably shouldn't.
Like how loopy he is on two hours of sleep, or what bruises made by sharp teeth look like on his hip, or that this particular smile means he's two seconds from disappearing inside his own head, even though they’re surrounded by hundreds of people.
He nudges Kris in the side. "You still with us?"
Kris starts, smile hazy like he's waking up.
"Yeah. Thanks."
singapore
A good concert always makes Kris restless, like he needs to touch someone else because he feels so content in his own skin and needs to share the feeling.
Cale knows, which is why he's waiting with open arms when they get off stage.
"I think there was more groping in the past hour than that one foam party you dragged me to back in college."
"Come on, that was totally not my fault," Kris says, up on his toes, hands light on Cale's face. "Is this okay?"
Say yes.
Cale smiles, rueful, in the instant before their lips meet.
fin.
Notes: All feedback welcome, as usual, and I always reply.