Fic: "Grease Monkeys" for azewewish in the 2009 Lotrips Slashababy fic exchange
Title: Grease Monkeys
Recipient: azewewish
Author: Galadriel (caras_galadhon)
Pairing: Harry Sinclair/Karl Urban
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Harry considered simply unzipping and slipping his fingers beneath the denim, stroking himself while he watched Karl move, but he was enjoying the slow simmer of desire too much to interrupt its build.
Notes: Happy Holidays, azewewish!
Post-reveal Notes: I racked my brain to try and recall any, er, "interests" Brenda has that she didn't list in her signup, and hope very much that I've remembered correctly and managed to hit some here. Thanks very much to savageseraph for acting as a sounding board along the way.
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
"Karl!" Harry kicked the door closed behind him with his foot, the thud reverberating throughout the house. "Goddammit, Karl, come help me before I dump everything on the floor!" The bags in his right arm were starting to slip, and he only had the most precarious of holds on the couple in his left. It wouldn't be long before the eggs hit the floor, and everything else besides.
"Karl!" Harry shouted again, shuffling and wobbling forward, barely making it into the kitchen, barely managing to plop the groceries down on the counter. He sighed, shaking his arms out, rubbing the circulation back into them. Bloody bastard must be hiding out, he thought, Some help he is. But you caught more flies with honey than vinegar, and Harry had no intention of putting away all the shit Karl had added to his list -- ice cream, potato chips, some godawaful lager he'd developed a taste for while filming Pathfinder -- all by his lonesome. "I found that ice cream you wanted, just like you asked," he called out, moving towards the back of the house, listening for tell-tale Karl-noises: the creak of a chair to accompany the buzz of the television; his rich laughter, thick and dark as molasses; a snore reminiscent of a power saw or, on occasion, an electric sander.
He was rewarded by a rhythmic thumping that grew louder the closer he drew to the back door. The vibrations shuddered up the wall, and Harry's fingers tingled as he turned the doorknob and stepped outside. Oh. Of course. Outside, in the fresh air, the noise came clear: Karl was in the garage, drowning out the world with selections from The White Album, John Lennon currently belting out how happiness came at the end of a warm gun.
The music was a bit like a smack in the face as Harry wrenched open the garage's side door, the latch still sticking just enough to make entry awkward. The notes swelled, thumped against the sides of Harry's head, and for a moment he found himself a bit dazed before he was able to focus on the scene in front of him.
There was Karl, up to his arms in the engine block of his car, singing along in that unselfconscious, tuneless way he had, his t-shirt rucked up over the small of his back, jeans riding low. Utterly oblivious to anything but the music and the car, his hips swayed to the beat, punctuating each chorus with a stomp of his foot. He'd shoved a rag in his back pocket, and it swung as Karl moved, effectively pulling Harry's gaze to the swell of Karl's ass.
Harry smiled, leaning against the doorframe, taking in Karl's form, the expert attention he paid to the task at hand, the simple joy he took in tinkering. God knew what small tweak was required now, but Karl knew that car inside and out, from each nut and bolt right up to the lot number of the paintjob, and the pleasure he got from keeping her purring was more than enough reason to indulge him.
Harry groaned, biting his lip as his own jeans tightened, his cock filling and hardening as his gaze lingered, caressed every angle and curve of Karl's back. Briefly, he considered simply unzipping and slipping his fingers beneath the denim, stroking himself while he watched Karl move, but he was enjoying the slow simmer of desire too much to interrupt its build.
Karl continued tinkering, oblivious to his voyeur, finally putting aside his tools, folding the prop rod away, letting the hood fall closed with a clang. He began to turn as he yanked the rag out of his back pocket, wiping the grease from his hands, and Harry smirked as he jumped.
"Christ, how long have you been there?" Karl reached over, slapping off the stereo, cutting off George Harrison in the opening throes of "While My Guitar Gently Weeps."
Harry chuckled. "Long enough to have definite opinions about your suitability as the fifth Beatle." He pushed away from the doorframe, taking more than a little satisfaction from the slight flush that rose on Karl's cheeks and neck. He wet his lips, idly wondering how far down the blush went. "So you've got her purring perfectly again?" Harry gestured at the car, not bothering to hide the wolfish smile that graced his lips as Karl nodded. "You have no idea how much I'd like to hear you purr." He closed the distance between himself and Karl in just a few steps, sliding his fingertips into Karl's belt loops, tugging him firmly against his own body.
Karl's eyebrows went up as Harry ground himself against his hip. "That so?" He chuckled, reaching out to wrap his arms around Harry, then hesitating. "Can you wait until I've had a shower? I'm not exactly clean."
Harry shook his head. "I don't want you clean," he growled, gripping Karl's hips and pushing him back against the hood of the car. "I want you now." His fingers found the hem of Karl's shirt, pulling it up and over his head before Karl was able to object. Karl's skin was warm under his hands, his nipples hardening as Harry teased them with his thumbs. Not one to ignore an invitation, he grinned and dipped his head to lick and suck at them, flicking them with the tip of his tongue.
Ah. There we go. Karl groaned, arching his back, pressing up into Harry's mouth. He wound his fingers in Harry's hair, gripping, holding him in place as he shivered under him. Harry laughed against his skin, shrugging off Karl's hands to surface and slide upward, capturing his mouth in a deep kiss. He slid his hands down Karl's sides to his fly, tugging at the zipper until it gave way and parted, slipping his fingers past it to stroke Karl's cock through the cotton of his underwear.
The moment spun out, lengthening, until the both of them were left without breath. As they broke the kiss, Harry backed off enough to rasp, "Turn over."
Karl didn't hesitate. Once he had his back to Harry, he leaned over the car hood, palms flat, legs parted. Harry muffled a moan as he took in the sight of Karl laid out for him, bare from the waist up, jeans barely hanging off his hips. It was too tempting to resist, and before long Harry found himself stroking his palms up Karl's back, across his shoulders, down his arms, until he could grip each of Karl's wrists, drawing them above his head, urging him to curl his fingers in the gap between hood and windshield and hold on. "Stay still," Harry murmured, kissing his way down Karl's spine, lingering at each sensitive spot, revelling in the hiss and catch of Karl's breath.
Before long, Harry had worked his way to Karl's waist, nipping at the small of his back before sinking to his knees. As he settled on his haunches, he gripped the waist of Karl's jeans, coaxing both the denim and his underwear down Karl's thighs, letting the cloth bunch at his knees. He smiled, taking the time to stroke Karl's legs, his ass, every bit of skin he'd exposed. Karl shuddered, and Harry didn't have to see his face to know he was grinding his teeth.
"Harry," the word dripped with impatience, and it was all Harry could do to suppress the chuckle that threatened. "Harry, for fuck's sake, hurry up." He gave in and laughed, delivering a sharp slap to Karl's cheek as he rocked his hips, squirming restlessly. "Ow. Goddammit, you bastard, stop being a tease." But nevertheless, Karl stilled, his breath coming faster as he seemed to attempt to quiet the tremors that ran through his body.
Harry cupped Karl's ass, parting his cheeks as he leaned in to lick between them, gently coaxing him open. It wasn't long before soft whimpers reached his ears, a muffled whine standing in for a full-throated plea. He took his time, slipping his tonguetip more fully into Karl, fucking him slowly until Karl cried out in frustration.
"More," he gasped. "For the love of god, more."
As much as he was loathe to stop, there was little in the garage that'd work for what Harry had in mind. It took him a moment to get to his feet, leaning over Karl to kiss between his shoulderblades. "Don't move," he murmured, and heedless to Karl's protests, Harry set off back towards the house.
As he passed through the kitchen, he glanced at the groceries, still in their bags. A distant voice reminded him he should really put them away, but faced with frozen vegetables or a hot Karl, there was no way the former would ever win out. It was quick work to locate a tube of lube in the bathroom, and faster still to make his way back to the garage.
He half-expected Karl to have lost all patience -- what little he possessed -- and to have moved, buttoned up, or even taken care of himself without Harry's help, but there he was, still stretched out against the car, exactly as Harry had left him. It made Harry's cock throb against his fly, the thought that Karl was listening that closely, taking each word, each command to heart.
Karl turned his head towards the door at the sound of Harry's footsteps. His face lit up in a smile that spoke of mingled pleasure and lust. "I thought you'd never come back." He arched his back, parting his legs a little more.
Harry held up the little tube. "Provisions," he grinned. Once he was settled behind Karl, he stroked his side, brushed his lips across the midline of his back. "I thought you deserved something a little better than a spit and polish."
Karl snorted, nodded his head. "As long as you hurry the hell up, I'm happy."
Harry set the lube down on the hood beside Karl's hip as he opened his own jeans, shoving them down over his own ass. His cock sprang free, curving up against Harry's hand as he stroked himself lightly, enjoying the little anticipatory tingles that ran up his spine. It wasn't long before he had his cock slicked up, and barely a moment longer before he positioned himself and pressed slowly into Karl's heat, one hand gripping his hip, keeping the both of them steady.
Harry wasn't sure if the deep groan he heard was his own or Karl's; all he knew was that balls-deep, with Karl clenching around him, Harry wouldn't last too long. The slow burn had rolled right into a full-blown ache, desire driving him forward without thought of care. He swallowed heavily, sliding slowly out until only the head of his cock remained, and after a pause for a deep breath, he thrust firmly forward, jostling Karl and pulling a cry from his chest.
Each thrust was a little quicker, a little firmer, Karl pressing back into each movement, hissing with each jolt. They bucked against each other, Karl somehow keeping his grip on the car, Harry managing to keep his rhythm even and sure. They fit together as if they'd been made for this, and it was all Harry could do to not lose all sense of himself outside of Karl, outside of where they were, what they were doing, here and now.
Karl shuddered hard under Harry, hissing, "Touch me," and it didn't even occur to Harry not to immediately comply. His fingers were still slick with lube, which made their glide up and down Karl's shaft all the easier, Karl's cock twitching against his palm as he moaned.
Harry skimmed his thumb over the head of Karl's cock, squeezing gently, making Karl gasp and clench. The sudden tightness was all Harry needed as his hips jerked forward and he came. Involuntarily, he lost his grip, his nails scraping against the base of Karl's cock. The contact tipped Karl over a moment later, groaning and shuddering, Harry's name on his lips.
They lay quiet and still for a long moment, Harry leaning over Karl, nothing but the harsh sounds of each man's breath echoing off the walls of the garage. Eventually, Harry roused himself enough to let go of Karl's softening cock, slip out of his body. He kissed his way across Karl's shoulder, exhaling a warm breath against his neck.
"Mmm." Karl sighed, shifted slightly, stretching under Harry. He laughed softly, murmuring, "Can I let go now?" as his fingers curled and uncurled against the edge of the hood.
"What?" Harry snorted, nodding as he caught on. "Of course you can." He rubbed a bit ineffectively at Karl's arms for a moment, hoping to restore any lost circulation.
Karl drew his arms down to his sides, pushing awkwardly at Harry until they both lay on their backs, side by side, on the hood of the car. "So," Karl said, after a stretch of silence, "I was thinking of taking a look at the lawnmower. Any chance you want to help with that, too?"
Harry laughed, rolling onto his side, curving an arm around Karl's waist, kissing his shoulder. "Sure. Sure, of course. I'd love to."
...In the kitchen, long since forgotten, a trail of slowly melting fudge ripple leaked out of the grocery bags, across the counter, and onto a puddle on the floor.
Recipient: azewewish
Author: Galadriel (caras_galadhon)
Pairing: Harry Sinclair/Karl Urban
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Harry considered simply unzipping and slipping his fingers beneath the denim, stroking himself while he watched Karl move, but he was enjoying the slow simmer of desire too much to interrupt its build.
Notes: Happy Holidays, azewewish!
Post-reveal Notes: I racked my brain to try and recall any, er, "interests" Brenda has that she didn't list in her signup, and hope very much that I've remembered correctly and managed to hit some here. Thanks very much to savageseraph for acting as a sounding board along the way.
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
"Karl!" Harry kicked the door closed behind him with his foot, the thud reverberating throughout the house. "Goddammit, Karl, come help me before I dump everything on the floor!" The bags in his right arm were starting to slip, and he only had the most precarious of holds on the couple in his left. It wouldn't be long before the eggs hit the floor, and everything else besides.
"Karl!" Harry shouted again, shuffling and wobbling forward, barely making it into the kitchen, barely managing to plop the groceries down on the counter. He sighed, shaking his arms out, rubbing the circulation back into them. Bloody bastard must be hiding out, he thought, Some help he is. But you caught more flies with honey than vinegar, and Harry had no intention of putting away all the shit Karl had added to his list -- ice cream, potato chips, some godawaful lager he'd developed a taste for while filming Pathfinder -- all by his lonesome. "I found that ice cream you wanted, just like you asked," he called out, moving towards the back of the house, listening for tell-tale Karl-noises: the creak of a chair to accompany the buzz of the television; his rich laughter, thick and dark as molasses; a snore reminiscent of a power saw or, on occasion, an electric sander.
He was rewarded by a rhythmic thumping that grew louder the closer he drew to the back door. The vibrations shuddered up the wall, and Harry's fingers tingled as he turned the doorknob and stepped outside. Oh. Of course. Outside, in the fresh air, the noise came clear: Karl was in the garage, drowning out the world with selections from The White Album, John Lennon currently belting out how happiness came at the end of a warm gun.
The music was a bit like a smack in the face as Harry wrenched open the garage's side door, the latch still sticking just enough to make entry awkward. The notes swelled, thumped against the sides of Harry's head, and for a moment he found himself a bit dazed before he was able to focus on the scene in front of him.
There was Karl, up to his arms in the engine block of his car, singing along in that unselfconscious, tuneless way he had, his t-shirt rucked up over the small of his back, jeans riding low. Utterly oblivious to anything but the music and the car, his hips swayed to the beat, punctuating each chorus with a stomp of his foot. He'd shoved a rag in his back pocket, and it swung as Karl moved, effectively pulling Harry's gaze to the swell of Karl's ass.
Harry smiled, leaning against the doorframe, taking in Karl's form, the expert attention he paid to the task at hand, the simple joy he took in tinkering. God knew what small tweak was required now, but Karl knew that car inside and out, from each nut and bolt right up to the lot number of the paintjob, and the pleasure he got from keeping her purring was more than enough reason to indulge him.
Harry groaned, biting his lip as his own jeans tightened, his cock filling and hardening as his gaze lingered, caressed every angle and curve of Karl's back. Briefly, he considered simply unzipping and slipping his fingers beneath the denim, stroking himself while he watched Karl move, but he was enjoying the slow simmer of desire too much to interrupt its build.
Karl continued tinkering, oblivious to his voyeur, finally putting aside his tools, folding the prop rod away, letting the hood fall closed with a clang. He began to turn as he yanked the rag out of his back pocket, wiping the grease from his hands, and Harry smirked as he jumped.
"Christ, how long have you been there?" Karl reached over, slapping off the stereo, cutting off George Harrison in the opening throes of "While My Guitar Gently Weeps."
Harry chuckled. "Long enough to have definite opinions about your suitability as the fifth Beatle." He pushed away from the doorframe, taking more than a little satisfaction from the slight flush that rose on Karl's cheeks and neck. He wet his lips, idly wondering how far down the blush went. "So you've got her purring perfectly again?" Harry gestured at the car, not bothering to hide the wolfish smile that graced his lips as Karl nodded. "You have no idea how much I'd like to hear you purr." He closed the distance between himself and Karl in just a few steps, sliding his fingertips into Karl's belt loops, tugging him firmly against his own body.
Karl's eyebrows went up as Harry ground himself against his hip. "That so?" He chuckled, reaching out to wrap his arms around Harry, then hesitating. "Can you wait until I've had a shower? I'm not exactly clean."
Harry shook his head. "I don't want you clean," he growled, gripping Karl's hips and pushing him back against the hood of the car. "I want you now." His fingers found the hem of Karl's shirt, pulling it up and over his head before Karl was able to object. Karl's skin was warm under his hands, his nipples hardening as Harry teased them with his thumbs. Not one to ignore an invitation, he grinned and dipped his head to lick and suck at them, flicking them with the tip of his tongue.
Ah. There we go. Karl groaned, arching his back, pressing up into Harry's mouth. He wound his fingers in Harry's hair, gripping, holding him in place as he shivered under him. Harry laughed against his skin, shrugging off Karl's hands to surface and slide upward, capturing his mouth in a deep kiss. He slid his hands down Karl's sides to his fly, tugging at the zipper until it gave way and parted, slipping his fingers past it to stroke Karl's cock through the cotton of his underwear.
The moment spun out, lengthening, until the both of them were left without breath. As they broke the kiss, Harry backed off enough to rasp, "Turn over."
Karl didn't hesitate. Once he had his back to Harry, he leaned over the car hood, palms flat, legs parted. Harry muffled a moan as he took in the sight of Karl laid out for him, bare from the waist up, jeans barely hanging off his hips. It was too tempting to resist, and before long Harry found himself stroking his palms up Karl's back, across his shoulders, down his arms, until he could grip each of Karl's wrists, drawing them above his head, urging him to curl his fingers in the gap between hood and windshield and hold on. "Stay still," Harry murmured, kissing his way down Karl's spine, lingering at each sensitive spot, revelling in the hiss and catch of Karl's breath.
Before long, Harry had worked his way to Karl's waist, nipping at the small of his back before sinking to his knees. As he settled on his haunches, he gripped the waist of Karl's jeans, coaxing both the denim and his underwear down Karl's thighs, letting the cloth bunch at his knees. He smiled, taking the time to stroke Karl's legs, his ass, every bit of skin he'd exposed. Karl shuddered, and Harry didn't have to see his face to know he was grinding his teeth.
"Harry," the word dripped with impatience, and it was all Harry could do to suppress the chuckle that threatened. "Harry, for fuck's sake, hurry up." He gave in and laughed, delivering a sharp slap to Karl's cheek as he rocked his hips, squirming restlessly. "Ow. Goddammit, you bastard, stop being a tease." But nevertheless, Karl stilled, his breath coming faster as he seemed to attempt to quiet the tremors that ran through his body.
Harry cupped Karl's ass, parting his cheeks as he leaned in to lick between them, gently coaxing him open. It wasn't long before soft whimpers reached his ears, a muffled whine standing in for a full-throated plea. He took his time, slipping his tonguetip more fully into Karl, fucking him slowly until Karl cried out in frustration.
"More," he gasped. "For the love of god, more."
As much as he was loathe to stop, there was little in the garage that'd work for what Harry had in mind. It took him a moment to get to his feet, leaning over Karl to kiss between his shoulderblades. "Don't move," he murmured, and heedless to Karl's protests, Harry set off back towards the house.
As he passed through the kitchen, he glanced at the groceries, still in their bags. A distant voice reminded him he should really put them away, but faced with frozen vegetables or a hot Karl, there was no way the former would ever win out. It was quick work to locate a tube of lube in the bathroom, and faster still to make his way back to the garage.
He half-expected Karl to have lost all patience -- what little he possessed -- and to have moved, buttoned up, or even taken care of himself without Harry's help, but there he was, still stretched out against the car, exactly as Harry had left him. It made Harry's cock throb against his fly, the thought that Karl was listening that closely, taking each word, each command to heart.
Karl turned his head towards the door at the sound of Harry's footsteps. His face lit up in a smile that spoke of mingled pleasure and lust. "I thought you'd never come back." He arched his back, parting his legs a little more.
Harry held up the little tube. "Provisions," he grinned. Once he was settled behind Karl, he stroked his side, brushed his lips across the midline of his back. "I thought you deserved something a little better than a spit and polish."
Karl snorted, nodded his head. "As long as you hurry the hell up, I'm happy."
Harry set the lube down on the hood beside Karl's hip as he opened his own jeans, shoving them down over his own ass. His cock sprang free, curving up against Harry's hand as he stroked himself lightly, enjoying the little anticipatory tingles that ran up his spine. It wasn't long before he had his cock slicked up, and barely a moment longer before he positioned himself and pressed slowly into Karl's heat, one hand gripping his hip, keeping the both of them steady.
Harry wasn't sure if the deep groan he heard was his own or Karl's; all he knew was that balls-deep, with Karl clenching around him, Harry wouldn't last too long. The slow burn had rolled right into a full-blown ache, desire driving him forward without thought of care. He swallowed heavily, sliding slowly out until only the head of his cock remained, and after a pause for a deep breath, he thrust firmly forward, jostling Karl and pulling a cry from his chest.
Each thrust was a little quicker, a little firmer, Karl pressing back into each movement, hissing with each jolt. They bucked against each other, Karl somehow keeping his grip on the car, Harry managing to keep his rhythm even and sure. They fit together as if they'd been made for this, and it was all Harry could do to not lose all sense of himself outside of Karl, outside of where they were, what they were doing, here and now.
Karl shuddered hard under Harry, hissing, "Touch me," and it didn't even occur to Harry not to immediately comply. His fingers were still slick with lube, which made their glide up and down Karl's shaft all the easier, Karl's cock twitching against his palm as he moaned.
Harry skimmed his thumb over the head of Karl's cock, squeezing gently, making Karl gasp and clench. The sudden tightness was all Harry needed as his hips jerked forward and he came. Involuntarily, he lost his grip, his nails scraping against the base of Karl's cock. The contact tipped Karl over a moment later, groaning and shuddering, Harry's name on his lips.
They lay quiet and still for a long moment, Harry leaning over Karl, nothing but the harsh sounds of each man's breath echoing off the walls of the garage. Eventually, Harry roused himself enough to let go of Karl's softening cock, slip out of his body. He kissed his way across Karl's shoulder, exhaling a warm breath against his neck.
"Mmm." Karl sighed, shifted slightly, stretching under Harry. He laughed softly, murmuring, "Can I let go now?" as his fingers curled and uncurled against the edge of the hood.
"What?" Harry snorted, nodding as he caught on. "Of course you can." He rubbed a bit ineffectively at Karl's arms for a moment, hoping to restore any lost circulation.
Karl drew his arms down to his sides, pushing awkwardly at Harry until they both lay on their backs, side by side, on the hood of the car. "So," Karl said, after a stretch of silence, "I was thinking of taking a look at the lawnmower. Any chance you want to help with that, too?"
Harry laughed, rolling onto his side, curving an arm around Karl's waist, kissing his shoulder. "Sure. Sure, of course. I'd love to."
...In the kitchen, long since forgotten, a trail of slowly melting fudge ripple leaked out of the grocery bags, across the counter, and onto a puddle on the floor.