Liar
Title: Liar
Rating: R
Pairing: Kradam
Word Count: 2,859
Note: My brain won't stop giving me AUs! This is beginning to be a real problem, I'm telling you. *sigh* This is one I wrote a while ago, but have been distracted away from posting. Personally, I kind of love this 'verse, and plan on re-visiting it in my own mind, If y'all like it, I'll share whatever I come up with, but I don't want to be forcing all these AUs at you. Idol kNights is still a WIP, so don't worry about that being dropped any time soon. :) Anyway, as always, pyrosgf beta'd the crap out of this thing, and I luh her for it. <3 And now, on with the fic!
Based on the song "Liar" by Dragonette, who is awesome.
What am I doing here? What am I doing here?
The party is huge and loud and, seriously, what is he doing here? This isn’t his usual thing at all, Kris being a little more, um, let’s just say people here would doubt his commitment to Sparkle Motion in a big way if they saw him in his natural habitat.
It was just… that guy. It was those eyes, that stunning, knee-wobbling, breath-taking smile and that smooth, lyrical voice.
“It’s gonna be cool. My friend Cassidy always throws the best parties. You should totally come.”
What could Kris say except, “Okay, that sounds awesome.”
Awesome.
Now he’s at a house he was second-handedly invited to, at a party where he knows absolutely no one, and the guy with the eyes and the mouth and the voice is nowhere to be seen.
I mean, there are guys with- I mean, everybody here has eyes and a mouth and most likely a voice, but none drew Kris out of his comfort zone- heck, his zip code- and to this chaotic mob scene.
A very happy mob. Who aren’t paying Kris any mind at all.
Kris feels heat on the back of his neck, weird finger-like trails licking down his back, all the way down. Turning to identify the possible source of the odd sensation, Kris finds himself staring right into those siren eyes.
He’s pushing off from leaning against the wall on the other side of the room, and, oh, god, oh, god, how does he look so amazing?
Kris isn’t even gay- he has a girlfriend, sort of- but, oh my god. Kris thinks this guy might defy sexuality and be his very own entity, his own type entirely.
A predatory grin toys with glossed lips as the crowd instinctively parts, or so it seems, for him to cross the divide of space between him and Kris.
Kris’ feet shuffle ineffectually, moving him maybe a foot or two, but Kris’ synapses are misfiring and burning out like cherry bombs, and his body is functioning on a sort of muscle-memory autopilot.
The hungry face gets an excited kind of sweet light to it as the guy nearly shouts, “Kris! You came!”
Kris blushes -god, maybe he’s the girlfriend- and smiles, unable not to in the presence of this otherworldly being.
“Hey, Adam. Yeah, I um…” He trails off, not knowing what to say.
Adam doesn’t hesitate to pick up the slack. “Let’s get you a drink.” Taking Kris’ wrist and dragging him through the crowd.
Kris thinks everything that the last twenty seconds or so chose to be is the best thing ever.
A drink and a warm, solid, huge hand with long, graceful fingers wrapped around, well, any part of him, honestly, that’s all good right there.
-----
Kris doesn’t know what he just drank, but he’s had two and a half of them and is feeling pretty darn good about life in general. There are about eleventy-hundred people here, ninety percent of whom look like they just walked directly out of a fashion magazine or some New York exhibit or display or maybe a carnival of some sort. And beautiful. So many beautiful people, men and women and the lovely person called “Josh” or “Ferras“ or possibly “Rahab,“ Kris was a little distracted, honestly. But Kris can’t spare more than a few moments’ glances at them because the exotic creature who calls himself ‘Adam’ is, by some miracle, seeming to pay most of his (incredibly intense) attention to Kris.
There’s a lull in the crowd around him, people having moved on to mingle, and Kris is left standing by a small table leaning against a wall dividing the kitchen and hallway. At least that’s what he thought.
“Can we go somewhere… quieter?”
A smoky, deep-timbered, flat-out erotic voice floats from the source of the heat currently singeing Kris from behind. One hand laces itself around Kris’, the other using its forefinger to lightly trace nonsensical patterns across Kris’ shoulders and back.
Unable to hide his reactionary full-body shiver, Kris grips Adam’s hand and leans into the touch, nodding stuttered, much like his breathing and heartbeat. The resulting hum from Adam lets Kris know his reaction was satisfactory and met with approval.
Adam leads him down the hallway, farther from the noise, and into a guest bedroom. He seems awfully familiar with the layout of this house, but then Kris remembers that Adam’s friend is the host of this party, so that’s probably why, and he should stop feeling any kind of jealousy right this minute, because that’s just insane.
There’s an odd sensation of comfort, a strange kind of peace that comes over Kris as he feels Adam surround him, partially bodily, but mostly with just his presence.
Adam places a warm, somewhat tentative hand on Kris’ lower back, and Kris pushes back into the touch, taking it a step further and putting his back against Adam’s arm and chest. He waits; it’s Adam’s move next.
Running his other hand up Kris’ arm, Adam toys with the collar of Kris’ T-shirt, then grazes flushing skin, up the curve between shoulder and neck to Kris’ ear. Kris tilts his head to allow Adam better access for his feather-like exploration. A breathy ‘oh’ sound escapes Adam’s lips, and then Kris feels those lips touching the edge of his ear.
The lips move, a kiss pressed behind Kris’ ear, and when Kris accidentally moans a tiny bit, bending his head again to show Adam that Kris is pretty much putty in his hands, Adam stops testing so shallowly.
Walking Kris to the nearest wall by crowding him, hands on his shoulder and hip, Adam leans down and forward, contorting a little to reach Kris’ mouth with his. Kris makes a small humming-moan noise into Adam’s lips, and suddenly he isn’t facing that wall anymore, but is pressed gently against it, following almost the complete line of his back and legs.
Here’s a fun fact: Adam? Could very well win the World’s Best Kisser competition. Not that Kris has a whole lot of experience in this regard, but he’s absolutely certain that he’s experiencing, like, kissing royalty or something.
Kris wants to ask if Adam has any musical talent, but thinks it’s probably not the time for such questions, and that if it turns out he does sing or play an instrument, Kris will come in his pants from that knowledge alone.
This would be around the time Kris realizes he hasn’t breathed in a while, and parts of him are starting to protest. Other parts are screaming at those nagging ones to kindly shut the frick up, because there can’t be anything more important than the activities they’re engaged in at the moment.
Adam’s parts apparently are going through the same battle, because he’s pulling back, but not away. Not even far enough to stop sucking on Kris’ mouth while gasping for air. He bites a little and Kris smiles into it.
“God, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do that.” Adam punctuates his comment with more juicy, staccato kisses and little sounds.
“All night. I’ve been dying to get you alone. I swear, I was, like, five minutes from embarrassing myself out there.”
Kris hums in a way he hopes conveys encouragement to continue talking, if Adam wants to, as well as agreement and assent of pretty much everything that is happening. Adam cups Kris’ face, one large hand strong on his waist. He draws back just enough to look at Kris.
“God, you’re beautiful. You don’t even know it, do you?” Adam bites his lip, shaking his head and making a series of sort of ‘yummy’ grunts. “Where have you been hiding?”
Automatic, unintentionally whispered, and not just a little raw, “Conway, Arkansas.”
“Of course. Southern boys- they’re my weakness.”
“Oh?”
There’s a magical being talking to Kris, making his eyes wide and barely blinking, body tingling like he’s inside a piano while it’s being played. And then, this dark fey prince is giving Kris this face, this look, like he wants to consume him, devour him whole, and can’t decide where to start. Kris thinks his own face might be giving the impression that that sounds like a pretty frickin’ awesome idea.
“You’re amazing.” Adam whispers, sounding awed, and Kris can’t imagine what Adam could possibly see in him that would ever put that thought in Adam’s head or that tone in his voice or that look on his face.
But he’s really, really glad for whatever it is. He is going to send one of those cookie flower bouquets to whatever it is.
Kris shakes his head slightly, mouth slack.
“No, I’m pretty sure that would be you.”
Adam looks stunned. Kris can’t comprehend why. I mean, Adam’s looked in a mirror, right?
Still wearing that expression, Adam dives back in for another round of ferocious kissing.
Kris could do this for hours. For days. Heck, given the opportunity, Kris would totally spend the next eighty years making out with this man.
He opens wider, Adam’s hand unrelenting on his neck, tongue deep and desperate in his mouth.
He wants. Oh, god, how he wants.
This heat, this fire, this living thing crawling up, growing inside him, bent on devouring Kris whole- it’s so much. Too much. He’s burning, playing with that fire and he’s burning alive. It shouldn’t feel so good. So fricking right.
But, no. No, he can’t. He has--
He has Adam insinuating his leg in between Kris’ and Kris automatically jerks forward, hard and rutting with a twitch up Adam’s thigh. He makes an embarrassing, inelegant sound, and Adam pauses, just staring at him.
Kris opens his eyes, worried, knowing this is his chance to stop this; that he has to stop this now. It’s already too far and he’s got some apologizing to do, but if he can just put two brain cells together, maybe he doesn’t have to be too sorry… or something. Stupid brain cells.
Of its own volition, his mouth starts. “I have a-- I c-can’t-- I’m--”
Kris makes eye contact with the demi-god currently pinning him against someone else’s guest room wall. He knows Adam has blue-grey eyes but looking at them, they are pretty much solid black.
Oh.
There’s probably a world and stuff happening, but not right here, right now. No, the universe and time and reality is Adam. Just. Adam.
Kris swears, breathy, sincere, involuntary, and doesn’t even know it. Adam grins.
“Yeah.”
Adam hesitates when going back in for more kisses, Kris’ hands fidgeting and finally landing on Adam’s hips.
“I- there’s a--”
Why did Kris think grabbing Adam’s hips was a good idea, again? Cuz it really, really wasn’t.
Adam groans when Kris squeezes, flexing his fingers around the denim, slipping past cloth and onto heated skin.
“There’s a girl.” He finally spits out, shame heavy.
Adam jolts. “I thought--”
Kris shakes his head, not letting Adam go. Then he scoffs, “Until this afternoon, I’ve been contentedly straight.”
Adam tries to back off, but can’t put up much of a fight. Kris is stronger than he looks and Adam’s body betrays him, lust making him weak.
“Please, it’s- I’m not-- You took me by surprise, and now I’m--”
“I was getting close to taking you by a little more than surprise, Kris.”
Kris knows he should feel… probably anything except turned on by that, but tell that to his dick. He hopes Adam doesn’t notice.
He doesn’t get what he’s hoping for.
Adam goes a bit dark, crowding Kris with his mere [presence].
“You like that? The idea? Or the words? Tell me, does your ‘girl’ talk like that to you? Tell you what she wants; what she wants you to do to her? What she wants to do to you? Does she whisper dirty things in your ear when you make love to her?” Adam is sneering through that last part, mocking Kris, and Kris knows he deserves it.
He shakes his head, not brave enough to look Adam in the eye.
“Didn’t think so.” He sounds smug.
“No, I mean, we haven’t--”
Adam gapes. “You haven’t even nailed her? Gawd, you’re a terrible straight, you know that? Jeez. Do you two go shoe shopping and decorate her place, too?”
Adam shakes his head. Kris glowers, but says nothing. There’s no point.
Truth is, he was going to, he really was, but either he had a lot of class work or exams or something, and then she’d be busy, and they never found a good time to get to it. He wonders if he could even get it up for her now, now that he’s known this, known Adam.
Adam chuckles sympathetically, leaning in, resting his forehead on Kris’.
“Look, I know what it’s like, okay? I’ve been there. You got to follow your heart, your gut. Trust yourself. Don’t think about what other people think of you, of who they think you are. Put that aside and find who you are.”
He pulls back, looking into sad, confused, puppy-brown eyes.
“Figure yourself out, figure out what you want, then come back to me and let me know what you’ve decided. It’s not easy. But the feeling of living your truth is worth it.”
“You’re not mad?” Kris worries his bottom lip, but it stings from all the abuse it’s taken the last hour or so.
“Mad? Naw, baby. Disappointed, sure. I mean, god, look at you. Who wouldn’t want that? God…” A large hand splays in the middle of Kris’ torso, between stomach and chest, pushing up, up, thumb running over Kris’ clavicle, other fingers wrapping and curling along the curve of his neck.
Adam loses himself for a second, and Kris thinks it’d be so very okay with him if Adam stopped being noble and just ravished him anyway, screw self-discovery.
He sort of arches into Adam’s hand, pulse hard and erratic- an invitation.
Still dazed, Adam pushes a little, then a little harder, Kris thumping into the wall, and, yeah, Kris could do this. Kris could definitely do this so, so easy. Wants to, even. He doesn’t think he’d mind if Adam left bruises in the shape of his hands, fingers, mouth, heck, he’d be fine with cock-print bruises, if Adam wanted to rut off against Kris like that. Yeah, Kris’d be very okay with that.
His reverie is halted like it was clothes-lined when Adam’s voice purrs low and sultry in his ear.
“You should go. Go and screw your ‘girl’ and see what you think. Then…”
He pushes length-wise against Kris, just body heat, and it’s the first time Kris has ever thought he could feel someone’s aura.
A tiny lick behind Kris’ ear.
“Then you think about this. Think about the fact that I can get you so hot, I could stand- not even touching you, just talk to you- and make you come. I could suck on your tongue until you’d literally do anything I asked. How I could shove you against this wall right now,” Adam slinks slightly closer, “pin you with my hips,” He gives Kris a demonstration thereof, “and play until you’re begging me, begging to let you come.”
He tugs on Kris’ hair, blows in his ear, thrusts against him once, then harder, and a roll of the hips. Adam tugs again, slips his other hand into Kris’ back pocket and grips, working the two of them together. Kris’ head falls back, limp at the neck and Adam can’t help but bite at his shoulder, just hard enough to feel but not to bruise.
“Yes.”
It’s guttural, needy, and it’s beyond Adam’s patience and ability of self-control to stop if he doesn’t pull completely away right now.
He swears, sharp, painful, as he lunges away from the hot, desperate body. The sight is enough to knock the wind out of Adam.
Wrecked.
The boy looks absolutely wrecked.
Ohh, yeah, he’ll be back.
“I won’t make a liar out of you, Kris. Out of either of us. Find your truth. Then call me.”
Kris has left the world of the conscious, but the back of his mind calls out, “Numb- I need y- need- num- nee--”
“Check your back pocket, baby.”
And then Adam has to leave, has to go, get out of there. Now.
Now, now, now.
Go, walk, get out, and don’t stop until you get home. God, run if you have to, just go.
Kris, still in shock, still dead to the world, numbly fumbles shaking fingers into the pocket where Adam’s hand had been.
That was lovely, his hand being there. Really wish that hadn’t stopped.
He finds a slip of paper, name and number scrawled on it. Not sure what to do with it now, where to put it -somewhere safe- Kris flails and twirls and feels generally ridiculous in his movements before putting it back where he found it.
Because, yeah, he is definitely gonna be using that.
The Sequel: :: Pick Up The Phone::
Rating: R
Pairing: Kradam
Word Count: 2,859
Note: My brain won't stop giving me AUs! This is beginning to be a real problem, I'm telling you. *sigh* This is one I wrote a while ago, but have been distracted away from posting. Personally, I kind of love this 'verse, and plan on re-visiting it in my own mind, If y'all like it, I'll share whatever I come up with, but I don't want to be forcing all these AUs at you. Idol kNights is still a WIP, so don't worry about that being dropped any time soon. :) Anyway, as always, pyrosgf beta'd the crap out of this thing, and I luh her for it. <3 And now, on with the fic!
Based on the song "Liar" by Dragonette, who is awesome.
What am I doing here? What am I doing here?
The party is huge and loud and, seriously, what is he doing here? This isn’t his usual thing at all, Kris being a little more, um, let’s just say people here would doubt his commitment to Sparkle Motion in a big way if they saw him in his natural habitat.
It was just… that guy. It was those eyes, that stunning, knee-wobbling, breath-taking smile and that smooth, lyrical voice.
“It’s gonna be cool. My friend Cassidy always throws the best parties. You should totally come.”
What could Kris say except, “Okay, that sounds awesome.”
Awesome.
Now he’s at a house he was second-handedly invited to, at a party where he knows absolutely no one, and the guy with the eyes and the mouth and the voice is nowhere to be seen.
I mean, there are guys with- I mean, everybody here has eyes and a mouth and most likely a voice, but none drew Kris out of his comfort zone- heck, his zip code- and to this chaotic mob scene.
A very happy mob. Who aren’t paying Kris any mind at all.
Kris feels heat on the back of his neck, weird finger-like trails licking down his back, all the way down. Turning to identify the possible source of the odd sensation, Kris finds himself staring right into those siren eyes.
He’s pushing off from leaning against the wall on the other side of the room, and, oh, god, oh, god, how does he look so amazing?
Kris isn’t even gay- he has a girlfriend, sort of- but, oh my god. Kris thinks this guy might defy sexuality and be his very own entity, his own type entirely.
A predatory grin toys with glossed lips as the crowd instinctively parts, or so it seems, for him to cross the divide of space between him and Kris.
Kris’ feet shuffle ineffectually, moving him maybe a foot or two, but Kris’ synapses are misfiring and burning out like cherry bombs, and his body is functioning on a sort of muscle-memory autopilot.
The hungry face gets an excited kind of sweet light to it as the guy nearly shouts, “Kris! You came!”
Kris blushes -god, maybe he’s the girlfriend- and smiles, unable not to in the presence of this otherworldly being.
“Hey, Adam. Yeah, I um…” He trails off, not knowing what to say.
Adam doesn’t hesitate to pick up the slack. “Let’s get you a drink.” Taking Kris’ wrist and dragging him through the crowd.
Kris thinks everything that the last twenty seconds or so chose to be is the best thing ever.
A drink and a warm, solid, huge hand with long, graceful fingers wrapped around, well, any part of him, honestly, that’s all good right there.
-----
Kris doesn’t know what he just drank, but he’s had two and a half of them and is feeling pretty darn good about life in general. There are about eleventy-hundred people here, ninety percent of whom look like they just walked directly out of a fashion magazine or some New York exhibit or display or maybe a carnival of some sort. And beautiful. So many beautiful people, men and women and the lovely person called “Josh” or “Ferras“ or possibly “Rahab,“ Kris was a little distracted, honestly. But Kris can’t spare more than a few moments’ glances at them because the exotic creature who calls himself ‘Adam’ is, by some miracle, seeming to pay most of his (incredibly intense) attention to Kris.
There’s a lull in the crowd around him, people having moved on to mingle, and Kris is left standing by a small table leaning against a wall dividing the kitchen and hallway. At least that’s what he thought.
“Can we go somewhere… quieter?”
A smoky, deep-timbered, flat-out erotic voice floats from the source of the heat currently singeing Kris from behind. One hand laces itself around Kris’, the other using its forefinger to lightly trace nonsensical patterns across Kris’ shoulders and back.
Unable to hide his reactionary full-body shiver, Kris grips Adam’s hand and leans into the touch, nodding stuttered, much like his breathing and heartbeat. The resulting hum from Adam lets Kris know his reaction was satisfactory and met with approval.
Adam leads him down the hallway, farther from the noise, and into a guest bedroom. He seems awfully familiar with the layout of this house, but then Kris remembers that Adam’s friend is the host of this party, so that’s probably why, and he should stop feeling any kind of jealousy right this minute, because that’s just insane.
There’s an odd sensation of comfort, a strange kind of peace that comes over Kris as he feels Adam surround him, partially bodily, but mostly with just his presence.
Adam places a warm, somewhat tentative hand on Kris’ lower back, and Kris pushes back into the touch, taking it a step further and putting his back against Adam’s arm and chest. He waits; it’s Adam’s move next.
Running his other hand up Kris’ arm, Adam toys with the collar of Kris’ T-shirt, then grazes flushing skin, up the curve between shoulder and neck to Kris’ ear. Kris tilts his head to allow Adam better access for his feather-like exploration. A breathy ‘oh’ sound escapes Adam’s lips, and then Kris feels those lips touching the edge of his ear.
The lips move, a kiss pressed behind Kris’ ear, and when Kris accidentally moans a tiny bit, bending his head again to show Adam that Kris is pretty much putty in his hands, Adam stops testing so shallowly.
Walking Kris to the nearest wall by crowding him, hands on his shoulder and hip, Adam leans down and forward, contorting a little to reach Kris’ mouth with his. Kris makes a small humming-moan noise into Adam’s lips, and suddenly he isn’t facing that wall anymore, but is pressed gently against it, following almost the complete line of his back and legs.
Here’s a fun fact: Adam? Could very well win the World’s Best Kisser competition. Not that Kris has a whole lot of experience in this regard, but he’s absolutely certain that he’s experiencing, like, kissing royalty or something.
Kris wants to ask if Adam has any musical talent, but thinks it’s probably not the time for such questions, and that if it turns out he does sing or play an instrument, Kris will come in his pants from that knowledge alone.
This would be around the time Kris realizes he hasn’t breathed in a while, and parts of him are starting to protest. Other parts are screaming at those nagging ones to kindly shut the frick up, because there can’t be anything more important than the activities they’re engaged in at the moment.
Adam’s parts apparently are going through the same battle, because he’s pulling back, but not away. Not even far enough to stop sucking on Kris’ mouth while gasping for air. He bites a little and Kris smiles into it.
“God, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do that.” Adam punctuates his comment with more juicy, staccato kisses and little sounds.
“All night. I’ve been dying to get you alone. I swear, I was, like, five minutes from embarrassing myself out there.”
Kris hums in a way he hopes conveys encouragement to continue talking, if Adam wants to, as well as agreement and assent of pretty much everything that is happening. Adam cups Kris’ face, one large hand strong on his waist. He draws back just enough to look at Kris.
“God, you’re beautiful. You don’t even know it, do you?” Adam bites his lip, shaking his head and making a series of sort of ‘yummy’ grunts. “Where have you been hiding?”
Automatic, unintentionally whispered, and not just a little raw, “Conway, Arkansas.”
“Of course. Southern boys- they’re my weakness.”
“Oh?”
There’s a magical being talking to Kris, making his eyes wide and barely blinking, body tingling like he’s inside a piano while it’s being played. And then, this dark fey prince is giving Kris this face, this look, like he wants to consume him, devour him whole, and can’t decide where to start. Kris thinks his own face might be giving the impression that that sounds like a pretty frickin’ awesome idea.
“You’re amazing.” Adam whispers, sounding awed, and Kris can’t imagine what Adam could possibly see in him that would ever put that thought in Adam’s head or that tone in his voice or that look on his face.
But he’s really, really glad for whatever it is. He is going to send one of those cookie flower bouquets to whatever it is.
Kris shakes his head slightly, mouth slack.
“No, I’m pretty sure that would be you.”
Adam looks stunned. Kris can’t comprehend why. I mean, Adam’s looked in a mirror, right?
Still wearing that expression, Adam dives back in for another round of ferocious kissing.
Kris could do this for hours. For days. Heck, given the opportunity, Kris would totally spend the next eighty years making out with this man.
He opens wider, Adam’s hand unrelenting on his neck, tongue deep and desperate in his mouth.
He wants. Oh, god, how he wants.
This heat, this fire, this living thing crawling up, growing inside him, bent on devouring Kris whole- it’s so much. Too much. He’s burning, playing with that fire and he’s burning alive. It shouldn’t feel so good. So fricking right.
But, no. No, he can’t. He has--
He has Adam insinuating his leg in between Kris’ and Kris automatically jerks forward, hard and rutting with a twitch up Adam’s thigh. He makes an embarrassing, inelegant sound, and Adam pauses, just staring at him.
Kris opens his eyes, worried, knowing this is his chance to stop this; that he has to stop this now. It’s already too far and he’s got some apologizing to do, but if he can just put two brain cells together, maybe he doesn’t have to be too sorry… or something. Stupid brain cells.
Of its own volition, his mouth starts. “I have a-- I c-can’t-- I’m--”
Kris makes eye contact with the demi-god currently pinning him against someone else’s guest room wall. He knows Adam has blue-grey eyes but looking at them, they are pretty much solid black.
Oh.
There’s probably a world and stuff happening, but not right here, right now. No, the universe and time and reality is Adam. Just. Adam.
Kris swears, breathy, sincere, involuntary, and doesn’t even know it. Adam grins.
“Yeah.”
Adam hesitates when going back in for more kisses, Kris’ hands fidgeting and finally landing on Adam’s hips.
“I- there’s a--”
Why did Kris think grabbing Adam’s hips was a good idea, again? Cuz it really, really wasn’t.
Adam groans when Kris squeezes, flexing his fingers around the denim, slipping past cloth and onto heated skin.
“There’s a girl.” He finally spits out, shame heavy.
Adam jolts. “I thought--”
Kris shakes his head, not letting Adam go. Then he scoffs, “Until this afternoon, I’ve been contentedly straight.”
Adam tries to back off, but can’t put up much of a fight. Kris is stronger than he looks and Adam’s body betrays him, lust making him weak.
“Please, it’s- I’m not-- You took me by surprise, and now I’m--”
“I was getting close to taking you by a little more than surprise, Kris.”
Kris knows he should feel… probably anything except turned on by that, but tell that to his dick. He hopes Adam doesn’t notice.
He doesn’t get what he’s hoping for.
Adam goes a bit dark, crowding Kris with his mere [presence].
“You like that? The idea? Or the words? Tell me, does your ‘girl’ talk like that to you? Tell you what she wants; what she wants you to do to her? What she wants to do to you? Does she whisper dirty things in your ear when you make love to her?” Adam is sneering through that last part, mocking Kris, and Kris knows he deserves it.
He shakes his head, not brave enough to look Adam in the eye.
“Didn’t think so.” He sounds smug.
“No, I mean, we haven’t--”
Adam gapes. “You haven’t even nailed her? Gawd, you’re a terrible straight, you know that? Jeez. Do you two go shoe shopping and decorate her place, too?”
Adam shakes his head. Kris glowers, but says nothing. There’s no point.
Truth is, he was going to, he really was, but either he had a lot of class work or exams or something, and then she’d be busy, and they never found a good time to get to it. He wonders if he could even get it up for her now, now that he’s known this, known Adam.
Adam chuckles sympathetically, leaning in, resting his forehead on Kris’.
“Look, I know what it’s like, okay? I’ve been there. You got to follow your heart, your gut. Trust yourself. Don’t think about what other people think of you, of who they think you are. Put that aside and find who you are.”
He pulls back, looking into sad, confused, puppy-brown eyes.
“Figure yourself out, figure out what you want, then come back to me and let me know what you’ve decided. It’s not easy. But the feeling of living your truth is worth it.”
“You’re not mad?” Kris worries his bottom lip, but it stings from all the abuse it’s taken the last hour or so.
“Mad? Naw, baby. Disappointed, sure. I mean, god, look at you. Who wouldn’t want that? God…” A large hand splays in the middle of Kris’ torso, between stomach and chest, pushing up, up, thumb running over Kris’ clavicle, other fingers wrapping and curling along the curve of his neck.
Adam loses himself for a second, and Kris thinks it’d be so very okay with him if Adam stopped being noble and just ravished him anyway, screw self-discovery.
He sort of arches into Adam’s hand, pulse hard and erratic- an invitation.
Still dazed, Adam pushes a little, then a little harder, Kris thumping into the wall, and, yeah, Kris could do this. Kris could definitely do this so, so easy. Wants to, even. He doesn’t think he’d mind if Adam left bruises in the shape of his hands, fingers, mouth, heck, he’d be fine with cock-print bruises, if Adam wanted to rut off against Kris like that. Yeah, Kris’d be very okay with that.
His reverie is halted like it was clothes-lined when Adam’s voice purrs low and sultry in his ear.
“You should go. Go and screw your ‘girl’ and see what you think. Then…”
He pushes length-wise against Kris, just body heat, and it’s the first time Kris has ever thought he could feel someone’s aura.
A tiny lick behind Kris’ ear.
“Then you think about this. Think about the fact that I can get you so hot, I could stand- not even touching you, just talk to you- and make you come. I could suck on your tongue until you’d literally do anything I asked. How I could shove you against this wall right now,” Adam slinks slightly closer, “pin you with my hips,” He gives Kris a demonstration thereof, “and play until you’re begging me, begging to let you come.”
He tugs on Kris’ hair, blows in his ear, thrusts against him once, then harder, and a roll of the hips. Adam tugs again, slips his other hand into Kris’ back pocket and grips, working the two of them together. Kris’ head falls back, limp at the neck and Adam can’t help but bite at his shoulder, just hard enough to feel but not to bruise.
“Yes.”
It’s guttural, needy, and it’s beyond Adam’s patience and ability of self-control to stop if he doesn’t pull completely away right now.
He swears, sharp, painful, as he lunges away from the hot, desperate body. The sight is enough to knock the wind out of Adam.
Wrecked.
The boy looks absolutely wrecked.
Ohh, yeah, he’ll be back.
“I won’t make a liar out of you, Kris. Out of either of us. Find your truth. Then call me.”
Kris has left the world of the conscious, but the back of his mind calls out, “Numb- I need y- need- num- nee--”
“Check your back pocket, baby.”
And then Adam has to leave, has to go, get out of there. Now.
Now, now, now.
Go, walk, get out, and don’t stop until you get home. God, run if you have to, just go.
Kris, still in shock, still dead to the world, numbly fumbles shaking fingers into the pocket where Adam’s hand had been.
That was lovely, his hand being there. Really wish that hadn’t stopped.
He finds a slip of paper, name and number scrawled on it. Not sure what to do with it now, where to put it -somewhere safe- Kris flails and twirls and feels generally ridiculous in his movements before putting it back where he found it.
Because, yeah, he is definitely gonna be using that.
The Sequel: :: Pick Up The Phone::