You're Guaranteed To Run This Town
Title: You’re Guaranteed To Run This Town
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Adam has the problem that he dates all the wrong guys, and it seems that it’s going to happen all over again when he meets Kris - a young punk who’s really just a softie under all the leather and false confidence.
Warnings: M/M Sex, cussing, little bit of painplay
Notes: Title from The Ballad of Mona Lisa by P!atD. As for where this came from? I’m gonna go ahead and blame Devon, who challenged: Bet you can’t write a rebel Kris meeting Adam, who dates problem guys, and only problem guys. I see your challenge and demand… cake or something. As for people other than Devon, I’m sort of considering continuing this, or just tying it up neatly and leaving it be. What do you think?
When Adam first saw him, he didn’t think much. He’s small, compact under the mass of the leather jacket and tattered black t-shirt and jeans. He has brown hair, shaved at the sides and long and messy on top, wide brown eyes and black eyeliner making them look sharp across the room. He had the basics of Adam’s usual type - aside from the whole punk thing he had going on - but maybe worth a night.
He’s flanked by a tall lanky blond with hair that matches his friend, and a girl with red hair streaked with every color that looks considerably more innocent than the other two. The group moved back against the wall, and Adam watched the guy’s legs stretch out, tattered jeans slipping down as he leaned forward to light a cigarette. Adam wrinkled his nose; that’s another mark off his list.
Just as he was deciding to just give up and scan the place for someone else, brown eyes looked up at him, locking with his eyes and a crooked smirk curling around the cigarette. Adam just… stared; he felt kind of like he was drowning in his gaze, despite how far they were from each other. Without thinking about it, he was standing up, moving across the room, and the man just watched him with a knowing sneer. When he was about halfway through the crowd, the man pulled the cigarette from his mouth, smoke curling over his pink lips as he let it out slow, and passed it over to the blond, giving him a grin as he parted through the two toward Adam.
When they met, the man just grinned and grabbed Adam by the arm, pulling him through the crowd to the back rooms. It’s dark in the hall leading back to them, passing by several rooms closed off by curtains with groaning and sounds of sex spilling past them. When they got to an open curtain, the man pulled him in, slapped the curtain shut, and pushed Adam down onto the couch, shoving his tongue into Adam’s mouth a second later.
The man’s frantic, rutting against Adam, pulling his jacket off with his mouth still against Adam’s. Adam skimmed his hands down his back, pausing when he felt how skinny he was under the tattered shirt. He’s like a skeleton…
He didn’t get a chance to think much more, though, because the man thrust his hips down, rocking back and forth against the bulge in Adam’s leather pants and sufficiently derailing his train of though. He groaned and tensed up, gripping tight on the man’s hips, making him hiss and grind down even more. “Yeah…” He muttered. Adam shuddered at his deep, gravelly voice. “Make it fuckin’ hurt.” His voice was… off, though, like he was trying to cover something up in it.
A couple more thrusts before Adam’s fingers were digging in deeper, involuntarily, making the man above him moan, narrow his eyes toward Adam with a glare and lick his lips before Adam’s spilling into a leather jail, shuddering and shaking and marveling at how his head was spinning because… the man was a bit toppy, growling and snapping his hips like he’s fucking him, and last Adam checked, he wasn’t into bottoming. The way he could hardly breathe and his eyes felt crossed and his fingers were starting to go numb from digging into the man’s thighs would state contrary to that.
He finally let go - his fingers complaining from being moved after staying tense for so long - after the man fell over the edge and just kind of… stared.
“What?” The man shrugged when he caught Adam staring, already digging through the jacket for something. “I caught you starin’ out there, figured you’d want this.” He smirked, pulling out the pack of cigarettes and the lighter with it.
Adam grimaced, and he should probably be going or something but… “What’s your name?”
The man startled for a moment, his eyes going wide before he schooled his features back to the sneer it was before. “I don’t really think that matters, does it? We’re not going to be seeing each other after this again.”
Okay, that stings a little. Adam sunk back into the couch, just watching as he turned away, clicking the lighter until he could get it to light the end of his cigarette and inhale. From up close… he’s prettier than what Adam first thought; he’s softer around the edges like this… but then that didn’t make sense either, because from up close Adam could see the sharp points of his bones where he was too thin, see bruises older than the ones he just made into the tan skin under the tears of clothes. He looked back up to the man’s face and saw a muscle in his jaw twitch as he inhaled, his other hand rubbing at the back of his neck where some of the longer hairs curled.
Adam always knew he wasn’t really… good with relationships. He always picked the wrong guys, “You like men that you can try to fix and they end up breaking your heart when it doesn’t work, or you make them all better and just leave.” Brad, his friend since high school-slash-ex said one time. One of the free therapy/tarot/what the hell else couldn’t Brad do, moments in his life. This man, he seemed like just another guy that he’d have to fix but… he was captivating. Adam almost felt like he absolutely needed to know more about him.
A few more twitches in his jaw, then the man sighed, smoke billowing out like a gray cloud out his lips. Sharp brown eyes shifted his way and he stiffened for a moment, expecting another drawling comment from him that would convince him that this man wasn’t worth it, but instead, he got a name. “Kris.” The man stared at him for a moment, his mouth parted and eyes wider than usual like he was just as surprised as Adam was. Then he stood up, grabbing his jacket and shaking his head before walking out of the room, curtain swaying in place behind him for what seemed like hours.
Adam stared afterward, then finally stood up a few minutes later - on still shaking legs, he had to grab onto the back of the couch to keep from toppling over - wrestling his phone out of the tight fit of his back pocket and queuing up Brad’s number. He had the feeling he was going to need one of those therapy sessions, and a lot of booze if the ache in his chest meant anything.
“Fuck.” Kris kicked his dresser, then growled when it didn’t seem to satisfy the bubbling of… something in his chest. It was too familiar, too fresh to open up and let be. He needed to let it out. He swung his foot back and smashed it into the dresser again. The bottom of his sneaker peeled off when it hit the corner; he rolled his eyes.
“Dude.” Tommy peered in, hair messy from sleep, clean faced, glaring at him. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Kris glared right back. “Kicking my furniture.” He was particularly proud of the snarl in his voice; if the arched eyebrow was any indication, so was Tommy.
The blond walked in, leaning against the door frame, skinny legs folding over each other as he crossed his arms. “May I ask why?” He paused a moment when Kris shook his head, then he grinned. “Oh, it’s about that guy from the bar, isn’t it?”
Kris blushed. Then cursed. That guy - with the black hair and blue eyes and the sweet, but startled smile when Kris straddled his hips - had been fucking with his head for the past two days since he saw him. He hadn’t been this messed up and shaky - trembling like a fucking leaf - since… for years. He winced.
“Shit.” Tommy’s smirk fell away and he grabbed Kris by the arm, pulling him over to the bed and sitting him down. “He really messed with you, didn’t he?”
Kris shuddered, staring down at his hands trembling on his lap; every nerve seemed set on edge, everything he’d been pushing down for the past years suddenly bubbling up. And he had no idea why. It was frustrating, made him want to punch walls and kick dressers and curl up on the sheets and just sob. And he hated it.
What he hated most of all was… he just couldn’t stop thinking about the guy. Even with his hands gripping on Kris’ hips and marking bruises to add to his extensive collection, he seemed… careful. Treating Kris gently once they were both spent, mumbling a ‘sorry’ when his fingers first dug in that Kris was sure he wasn’t even aware of, bruising his lips with kisses and laving over the pain with his tongue and softer kisses after. He couldn’t remember the last time someone wasn’t trying to push him up against the wall and just use but, he didn’t, he just let Kris take over.
“Fuck me.” Kris groaned. Tommy squeezed his shoulder in sympathy. “It’s driving me insane. He’s driving me insane.” He flailed, and Tommy stared for a moment, blinking, because Kris was acting like his old self, the scrawny boy he took in three years ago. It was relieving. This guy can erase all those walls I’ve been trying to tear down in just half an hour.
The blond smiled, a brilliant idea coming to him. “Maybe, this isn’t such a bad thing.” Kris gave him a look like he was crazy, Tommy held up his hands, and then leveled him with a glare. “You know this isn’t who you really are. I know you were happier as…” He gestured to the distressed jeans and shirt. “Not this. If he can open you up to being someone different, someone who’s going to make you happy, then it’s a good thing.” Kris opened his mouth to comment, but Tommy shoved at him before he could speak, grinning and continuing when the smaller man righted himself. “And you should probably find a way to meet him again.”
Kris grimaced; he knew Tommy was right but… this was safe. People didn’t expect anything from him, they left him alone. He didn’t have any responsibilities or loyalties past Tommy and Allison, and it was easy. But… it wasn’t what he wanted. He sighed and looked up at Tommy. “Yeah, maybe.” He shifted a bit on the bed then looked up to his friend. “I’m… kinda tired now so…”
Tommy just nodded, standing up and leaving the room, quietly shutting the door behind him and leaving Kris with his thoughts of blue eyes and dark hair. He groaned and fell back on the bed, staring helplessly up at the ceiling.
“So he ran out on you?” Brad looked up at Adam over the glass, swallowing a mouthful of the bright - really bright, he’s not sure it’s actually safe to drink - blue mix inside. “Like, panicked running out or ‘I’ve finished my business, thanks for the orgasm’ running out?”
Adam sighed and leaned back against his couch, closing his eyes, trying to push back the migraine starting at the base of his skull. “He just… it was weird. Like…” He lifted his head back and stared down at his own drink, debating whether it was worth the added on headache it’d undoubtedly bring when shrugging and gulping some down. It was sour enough to make his eyes water. “Erm, like he was so confident before and as soon as he told me his name he freaked out.” He furrowed his brow, and decided another sip couldn’t hurt.
Brad hummed. “Odd.” He looked over Adam as he knocked back the rest of the drink, grimacing again at the sour apple in it. He paused for a moment, sipping thoughtfully on the drink then grinning and placing it gently back on the table. “You should meet him again.” He smiled in satisfaction at Adam’s sputtering and wide eyes staring at him. He so loved flustering Adam, he was so easy to fluster, no matter how badass he tried to make himself out to be.
“Um.” Adam shook his head. “I did mention that he seems to be exactly the type of guy that a few months ago you said I should avoid, right?”
Brad chuckled. “Yeah, I got that.” He shrugged. “Maybe this time it’s different.” He reached over, squeezing Adam’s knee and smiling in one of those rare moments of his - Brad was one of his most supportive friends, but he rarely made a show of it. “If it isn’t, I’ll buy the alcohol, with my own money this time.”
Adam gave him a look for a moment then smiled slightly. “Deal.”
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Adam has the problem that he dates all the wrong guys, and it seems that it’s going to happen all over again when he meets Kris - a young punk who’s really just a softie under all the leather and false confidence.
Warnings: M/M Sex, cussing, little bit of painplay
Notes: Title from The Ballad of Mona Lisa by P!atD. As for where this came from? I’m gonna go ahead and blame Devon, who challenged: Bet you can’t write a rebel Kris meeting Adam, who dates problem guys, and only problem guys. I see your challenge and demand… cake or something. As for people other than Devon, I’m sort of considering continuing this, or just tying it up neatly and leaving it be. What do you think?
When Adam first saw him, he didn’t think much. He’s small, compact under the mass of the leather jacket and tattered black t-shirt and jeans. He has brown hair, shaved at the sides and long and messy on top, wide brown eyes and black eyeliner making them look sharp across the room. He had the basics of Adam’s usual type - aside from the whole punk thing he had going on - but maybe worth a night.
He’s flanked by a tall lanky blond with hair that matches his friend, and a girl with red hair streaked with every color that looks considerably more innocent than the other two. The group moved back against the wall, and Adam watched the guy’s legs stretch out, tattered jeans slipping down as he leaned forward to light a cigarette. Adam wrinkled his nose; that’s another mark off his list.
Just as he was deciding to just give up and scan the place for someone else, brown eyes looked up at him, locking with his eyes and a crooked smirk curling around the cigarette. Adam just… stared; he felt kind of like he was drowning in his gaze, despite how far they were from each other. Without thinking about it, he was standing up, moving across the room, and the man just watched him with a knowing sneer. When he was about halfway through the crowd, the man pulled the cigarette from his mouth, smoke curling over his pink lips as he let it out slow, and passed it over to the blond, giving him a grin as he parted through the two toward Adam.
When they met, the man just grinned and grabbed Adam by the arm, pulling him through the crowd to the back rooms. It’s dark in the hall leading back to them, passing by several rooms closed off by curtains with groaning and sounds of sex spilling past them. When they got to an open curtain, the man pulled him in, slapped the curtain shut, and pushed Adam down onto the couch, shoving his tongue into Adam’s mouth a second later.
The man’s frantic, rutting against Adam, pulling his jacket off with his mouth still against Adam’s. Adam skimmed his hands down his back, pausing when he felt how skinny he was under the tattered shirt. He’s like a skeleton…
He didn’t get a chance to think much more, though, because the man thrust his hips down, rocking back and forth against the bulge in Adam’s leather pants and sufficiently derailing his train of though. He groaned and tensed up, gripping tight on the man’s hips, making him hiss and grind down even more. “Yeah…” He muttered. Adam shuddered at his deep, gravelly voice. “Make it fuckin’ hurt.” His voice was… off, though, like he was trying to cover something up in it.
A couple more thrusts before Adam’s fingers were digging in deeper, involuntarily, making the man above him moan, narrow his eyes toward Adam with a glare and lick his lips before Adam’s spilling into a leather jail, shuddering and shaking and marveling at how his head was spinning because… the man was a bit toppy, growling and snapping his hips like he’s fucking him, and last Adam checked, he wasn’t into bottoming. The way he could hardly breathe and his eyes felt crossed and his fingers were starting to go numb from digging into the man’s thighs would state contrary to that.
He finally let go - his fingers complaining from being moved after staying tense for so long - after the man fell over the edge and just kind of… stared.
“What?” The man shrugged when he caught Adam staring, already digging through the jacket for something. “I caught you starin’ out there, figured you’d want this.” He smirked, pulling out the pack of cigarettes and the lighter with it.
Adam grimaced, and he should probably be going or something but… “What’s your name?”
The man startled for a moment, his eyes going wide before he schooled his features back to the sneer it was before. “I don’t really think that matters, does it? We’re not going to be seeing each other after this again.”
Okay, that stings a little. Adam sunk back into the couch, just watching as he turned away, clicking the lighter until he could get it to light the end of his cigarette and inhale. From up close… he’s prettier than what Adam first thought; he’s softer around the edges like this… but then that didn’t make sense either, because from up close Adam could see the sharp points of his bones where he was too thin, see bruises older than the ones he just made into the tan skin under the tears of clothes. He looked back up to the man’s face and saw a muscle in his jaw twitch as he inhaled, his other hand rubbing at the back of his neck where some of the longer hairs curled.
Adam always knew he wasn’t really… good with relationships. He always picked the wrong guys, “You like men that you can try to fix and they end up breaking your heart when it doesn’t work, or you make them all better and just leave.” Brad, his friend since high school-slash-ex said one time. One of the free therapy/tarot/what the hell else couldn’t Brad do, moments in his life. This man, he seemed like just another guy that he’d have to fix but… he was captivating. Adam almost felt like he absolutely needed to know more about him.
A few more twitches in his jaw, then the man sighed, smoke billowing out like a gray cloud out his lips. Sharp brown eyes shifted his way and he stiffened for a moment, expecting another drawling comment from him that would convince him that this man wasn’t worth it, but instead, he got a name. “Kris.” The man stared at him for a moment, his mouth parted and eyes wider than usual like he was just as surprised as Adam was. Then he stood up, grabbing his jacket and shaking his head before walking out of the room, curtain swaying in place behind him for what seemed like hours.
Adam stared afterward, then finally stood up a few minutes later - on still shaking legs, he had to grab onto the back of the couch to keep from toppling over - wrestling his phone out of the tight fit of his back pocket and queuing up Brad’s number. He had the feeling he was going to need one of those therapy sessions, and a lot of booze if the ache in his chest meant anything.
“Fuck.” Kris kicked his dresser, then growled when it didn’t seem to satisfy the bubbling of… something in his chest. It was too familiar, too fresh to open up and let be. He needed to let it out. He swung his foot back and smashed it into the dresser again. The bottom of his sneaker peeled off when it hit the corner; he rolled his eyes.
“Dude.” Tommy peered in, hair messy from sleep, clean faced, glaring at him. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Kris glared right back. “Kicking my furniture.” He was particularly proud of the snarl in his voice; if the arched eyebrow was any indication, so was Tommy.
The blond walked in, leaning against the door frame, skinny legs folding over each other as he crossed his arms. “May I ask why?” He paused a moment when Kris shook his head, then he grinned. “Oh, it’s about that guy from the bar, isn’t it?”
Kris blushed. Then cursed. That guy - with the black hair and blue eyes and the sweet, but startled smile when Kris straddled his hips - had been fucking with his head for the past two days since he saw him. He hadn’t been this messed up and shaky - trembling like a fucking leaf - since… for years. He winced.
“Shit.” Tommy’s smirk fell away and he grabbed Kris by the arm, pulling him over to the bed and sitting him down. “He really messed with you, didn’t he?”
Kris shuddered, staring down at his hands trembling on his lap; every nerve seemed set on edge, everything he’d been pushing down for the past years suddenly bubbling up. And he had no idea why. It was frustrating, made him want to punch walls and kick dressers and curl up on the sheets and just sob. And he hated it.
What he hated most of all was… he just couldn’t stop thinking about the guy. Even with his hands gripping on Kris’ hips and marking bruises to add to his extensive collection, he seemed… careful. Treating Kris gently once they were both spent, mumbling a ‘sorry’ when his fingers first dug in that Kris was sure he wasn’t even aware of, bruising his lips with kisses and laving over the pain with his tongue and softer kisses after. He couldn’t remember the last time someone wasn’t trying to push him up against the wall and just use but, he didn’t, he just let Kris take over.
“Fuck me.” Kris groaned. Tommy squeezed his shoulder in sympathy. “It’s driving me insane. He’s driving me insane.” He flailed, and Tommy stared for a moment, blinking, because Kris was acting like his old self, the scrawny boy he took in three years ago. It was relieving. This guy can erase all those walls I’ve been trying to tear down in just half an hour.
The blond smiled, a brilliant idea coming to him. “Maybe, this isn’t such a bad thing.” Kris gave him a look like he was crazy, Tommy held up his hands, and then leveled him with a glare. “You know this isn’t who you really are. I know you were happier as…” He gestured to the distressed jeans and shirt. “Not this. If he can open you up to being someone different, someone who’s going to make you happy, then it’s a good thing.” Kris opened his mouth to comment, but Tommy shoved at him before he could speak, grinning and continuing when the smaller man righted himself. “And you should probably find a way to meet him again.”
Kris grimaced; he knew Tommy was right but… this was safe. People didn’t expect anything from him, they left him alone. He didn’t have any responsibilities or loyalties past Tommy and Allison, and it was easy. But… it wasn’t what he wanted. He sighed and looked up at Tommy. “Yeah, maybe.” He shifted a bit on the bed then looked up to his friend. “I’m… kinda tired now so…”
Tommy just nodded, standing up and leaving the room, quietly shutting the door behind him and leaving Kris with his thoughts of blue eyes and dark hair. He groaned and fell back on the bed, staring helplessly up at the ceiling.
“So he ran out on you?” Brad looked up at Adam over the glass, swallowing a mouthful of the bright - really bright, he’s not sure it’s actually safe to drink - blue mix inside. “Like, panicked running out or ‘I’ve finished my business, thanks for the orgasm’ running out?”
Adam sighed and leaned back against his couch, closing his eyes, trying to push back the migraine starting at the base of his skull. “He just… it was weird. Like…” He lifted his head back and stared down at his own drink, debating whether it was worth the added on headache it’d undoubtedly bring when shrugging and gulping some down. It was sour enough to make his eyes water. “Erm, like he was so confident before and as soon as he told me his name he freaked out.” He furrowed his brow, and decided another sip couldn’t hurt.
Brad hummed. “Odd.” He looked over Adam as he knocked back the rest of the drink, grimacing again at the sour apple in it. He paused for a moment, sipping thoughtfully on the drink then grinning and placing it gently back on the table. “You should meet him again.” He smiled in satisfaction at Adam’s sputtering and wide eyes staring at him. He so loved flustering Adam, he was so easy to fluster, no matter how badass he tried to make himself out to be.
“Um.” Adam shook his head. “I did mention that he seems to be exactly the type of guy that a few months ago you said I should avoid, right?”
Brad chuckled. “Yeah, I got that.” He shrugged. “Maybe this time it’s different.” He reached over, squeezing Adam’s knee and smiling in one of those rare moments of his - Brad was one of his most supportive friends, but he rarely made a show of it. “If it isn’t, I’ll buy the alcohol, with my own money this time.”
Adam gave him a look for a moment then smiled slightly. “Deal.”