Bitter-Sweet.
Title: Bitter-Sweet
Author: morganlight
Pairing: Kradam, yay.
Rating: PG-13? PG-15? I never know how these rating things work...
Notes: Didn't think I would actually DO the Kradam thing, but a scene-bunny stole me and I haven't been able to concentrate since. The Nicky-Drey thing is a reference to some characters that Kradam reminds me of and thus made me write this down instead of stewing in it overnight.
Disclaimer: Fiction. Nonprofit. True only in the fictional realm, which some would argue is as true as anything...
Bitter-Sweet
“You probably think I’m crazy.”
There was laugher. “Kris, seriously, do you KNOW who you’re talking to?”
“Right.” A pause. “So.”
Adam gave him a grin behind a lock of black slicked hair. “I am so Nicky, and you are SO Drey.”
“Er, what?”
“Nothing. Just something I read once.” Beat. “Well, it’s just like kissing a girl, except with more stubble.”
Kris laughed. “Like rug burns?”
“Dude, it’s worse than rubbing your face in the carpet, sometimes.”
Kris stared duly at the hotel room rug.
“Don’t tell me you’re about to try that.”
“… I might.”
“Okay, you win. I think you’re crazy. Still cute, though.”
Kris frowned. “I thought we went over this.”
”Right, right, NOT gay, completely and totally heterosexual, blah blah blah. I remember.”
“It’s just curiosity!”
Just idle, burning curiosity. And Kris suddenly had one of those moments when he felt so open-minded he thought his brains were going to fall out. Among other things.
He sighed. “I miss… Katy.”
“I know. I miss my boyfriend. Michael might think I’m gross for it, but.” A hitch in Adam’s voice. “What’s so GROSS about missing somebody?”
“Michael’s a fucking idiot.”
It didn’t seem to help, at first. Adam’s face was already crunching into the downward spiral of emotional resentment. “Shit,” Adam said, and covered his eyes with his polished hands.
“Hey,” Kris said, “don’t think about it so much.” He crossed the bed-gap, almost against his own will, and tried to bring some sense of physical contact to the situation that wouldn’t suggest being naïve and condescending. He settled for a half-hearted pat on the back.
“I hate him,” Adam said.
“Me too,” said Kris. “I mean, he didn’t do anything to me personally, but I hate him for hating you.”
Adam smiled. “You ARE crazy.”
“Maybe.”
A tilt, a half grin, a shake of the head, and then Adam showed something that could have been construed as eagerness. “You still curious?”
Kris said nothing. The hotel clock was painfully digital; there wasn’t even a ticking-second-time-bomb to justify the suspense he suddenly felt.
“Hold still,” Adam said.
Kris did.
Breath rushed between them. Kris felt heat on his face - he felt oxygen, tasted a dry tongue. And well, he liked this guy, after all, liked him a lot, but it wasn’t…
Adam’s lips cut him off. Colors bled. Lines faded. Who knew how this was supposed to end.
Adam pulled back, and then he mumbled, “You can pretend I’m a girl if you want,” but there wasn’t a pause as he closed to Kris’s lips again, softly.
A burn crossed Kris’s lower middle. Despite the awkwardness, despite denial. It was like being a kid again and trying to suppress laughter at something juvenile and stupid, but the giggle always came from his gut, defying societal expectation and disappointing his parents.
Adam giggled into his mouth, then, and the sudden irreverence made Kris forget everything he thought he had established. The giggle echoed down his throat and freed him, let his buried, irreverent lackey loose.
And there was sucking at tongues, at once. Heat. Kris felt desperation in the exploration, couldn’t even grasp logic. There was a hand in his hair, and who cared about anything else? They were both breathing hard.
Then - “I DID mention stubble, didn’t I?” Adam’s chin was away again, but only by inches.
“Sorry,” Kris said.
“Don’t be sorry.”
Kris let Adam lead him. Let him lead back to basics. It was almost like a first time all over again, but with a little bit more licking.
“Tell me when to stop,” Adam said.
Eyebrows, forehead, nose, lips, chin - it all felt different, a different nuance each time, like being led down a banqueted buffet table. Bittersweet. “Don’t stop,” Kris found himself saying, against his better judgement.
So Adam didn’t. Not until they had explored the crevices of each others’ clothes, not until their limbs were tangled into one another’s hair, in protection, in a kind of pact against the rest of the world - one that said, this is what it is, and screw everything I thought I knew before, or wanted to think.
“Ungh,” came Adam’s mumble. “I’m sorry.”
Kris wanted to say, if I could get any closer to you, if I could grow more skin somehow so that it could stretch further over yours, then I would.
But he didn’t.
“I’m not,” he said, instead.
He felt a crinkle against his cheek, which he knew was Adam smiling.
There was still no clock noise, so Kris couldn’t feel the seconds, nor the sweat that had somehow formed in the crook of his neck despite himself.
There were no implications, as yet. Just temporary comfort.
They woke up spooned.
Author: morganlight
Pairing: Kradam, yay.
Rating: PG-13? PG-15? I never know how these rating things work...
Notes: Didn't think I would actually DO the Kradam thing, but a scene-bunny stole me and I haven't been able to concentrate since. The Nicky-Drey thing is a reference to some characters that Kradam reminds me of and thus made me write this down instead of stewing in it overnight.
Disclaimer: Fiction. Nonprofit. True only in the fictional realm, which some would argue is as true as anything...
Bitter-Sweet
“You probably think I’m crazy.”
There was laugher. “Kris, seriously, do you KNOW who you’re talking to?”
“Right.” A pause. “So.”
Adam gave him a grin behind a lock of black slicked hair. “I am so Nicky, and you are SO Drey.”
“Er, what?”
“Nothing. Just something I read once.” Beat. “Well, it’s just like kissing a girl, except with more stubble.”
Kris laughed. “Like rug burns?”
“Dude, it’s worse than rubbing your face in the carpet, sometimes.”
Kris stared duly at the hotel room rug.
“Don’t tell me you’re about to try that.”
“… I might.”
“Okay, you win. I think you’re crazy. Still cute, though.”
Kris frowned. “I thought we went over this.”
”Right, right, NOT gay, completely and totally heterosexual, blah blah blah. I remember.”
“It’s just curiosity!”
Just idle, burning curiosity. And Kris suddenly had one of those moments when he felt so open-minded he thought his brains were going to fall out. Among other things.
He sighed. “I miss… Katy.”
“I know. I miss my boyfriend. Michael might think I’m gross for it, but.” A hitch in Adam’s voice. “What’s so GROSS about missing somebody?”
“Michael’s a fucking idiot.”
It didn’t seem to help, at first. Adam’s face was already crunching into the downward spiral of emotional resentment. “Shit,” Adam said, and covered his eyes with his polished hands.
“Hey,” Kris said, “don’t think about it so much.” He crossed the bed-gap, almost against his own will, and tried to bring some sense of physical contact to the situation that wouldn’t suggest being naïve and condescending. He settled for a half-hearted pat on the back.
“I hate him,” Adam said.
“Me too,” said Kris. “I mean, he didn’t do anything to me personally, but I hate him for hating you.”
Adam smiled. “You ARE crazy.”
“Maybe.”
A tilt, a half grin, a shake of the head, and then Adam showed something that could have been construed as eagerness. “You still curious?”
Kris said nothing. The hotel clock was painfully digital; there wasn’t even a ticking-second-time-bomb to justify the suspense he suddenly felt.
“Hold still,” Adam said.
Kris did.
Breath rushed between them. Kris felt heat on his face - he felt oxygen, tasted a dry tongue. And well, he liked this guy, after all, liked him a lot, but it wasn’t…
Adam’s lips cut him off. Colors bled. Lines faded. Who knew how this was supposed to end.
Adam pulled back, and then he mumbled, “You can pretend I’m a girl if you want,” but there wasn’t a pause as he closed to Kris’s lips again, softly.
A burn crossed Kris’s lower middle. Despite the awkwardness, despite denial. It was like being a kid again and trying to suppress laughter at something juvenile and stupid, but the giggle always came from his gut, defying societal expectation and disappointing his parents.
Adam giggled into his mouth, then, and the sudden irreverence made Kris forget everything he thought he had established. The giggle echoed down his throat and freed him, let his buried, irreverent lackey loose.
And there was sucking at tongues, at once. Heat. Kris felt desperation in the exploration, couldn’t even grasp logic. There was a hand in his hair, and who cared about anything else? They were both breathing hard.
Then - “I DID mention stubble, didn’t I?” Adam’s chin was away again, but only by inches.
“Sorry,” Kris said.
“Don’t be sorry.”
Kris let Adam lead him. Let him lead back to basics. It was almost like a first time all over again, but with a little bit more licking.
“Tell me when to stop,” Adam said.
Eyebrows, forehead, nose, lips, chin - it all felt different, a different nuance each time, like being led down a banqueted buffet table. Bittersweet. “Don’t stop,” Kris found himself saying, against his better judgement.
So Adam didn’t. Not until they had explored the crevices of each others’ clothes, not until their limbs were tangled into one another’s hair, in protection, in a kind of pact against the rest of the world - one that said, this is what it is, and screw everything I thought I knew before, or wanted to think.
“Ungh,” came Adam’s mumble. “I’m sorry.”
Kris wanted to say, if I could get any closer to you, if I could grow more skin somehow so that it could stretch further over yours, then I would.
But he didn’t.
“I’m not,” he said, instead.
He felt a crinkle against his cheek, which he knew was Adam smiling.
There was still no clock noise, so Kris couldn’t feel the seconds, nor the sweat that had somehow formed in the crook of his neck despite himself.
There were no implications, as yet. Just temporary comfort.
They woke up spooned.