Disclaimer: Shockingly, none of this actually happened. And I wouldn't know even if it did. FML.
Summary: A misunderstanding of motive.
Warnings: Snowballing, slapping, cockslapping, general humiliation, angry!sex.
Notes: For the Kink Bingo square humiliation. Ohhh boy. I had a little too much fun writing this y'all. anandrine betaed, and also enjoyed this a little too much. (I swear I used to hate any violence in fic. Adam accidentally what was left of my morals.) Title from Damien Rice, Volcano.
Kris doesn’t realize anything is wrong until Adam sets his vodka-and-whatever down on the bar, and grabs Kris’ wrist just this side of too hard. Adam yanks Kris’ hand away from his waist, where Kris had been rubbing his palm over and over and over the studs and grommets on Adam’s belt. Kris is tipsy, and tired enough that tipsy feels like wasted, two shows left on the tour and he’s running on fumes – they all are. The body-warm metal under his palm had been hypnotic and Kris doesn’t understand the problem. It’s not like touching Adam is some new behavior, and Kris frowns up at Adam, craning his head back, the shoulder of Adam’s jacket cool and smooth against his head.
Adam leans down, the shadows in the bar making him look bigger than he actually is, and Kris shivers when Adam speaks against the shell of his ear.
“Did you see that pretty little bartender?”
Kris did, but he can’t recall him clearly, only dark hair and a narrow face, sharp white slice of a smile aimed at Adam. He nods, waits to see where Adam is going with this.
“I was trying to pick him up. Cassidy says he sucks cock like a pro,” Kris feels his face get hot, “But that’s a little hard to do with you all over my ass like you own it.”
Adam yanks his wrist again and Kris realizes that yeah, that was Adam’s belt he was petting, and he’s pretty much been stroking Adam’s ass. That plus the fact that he’s been tucked up under Adam’s arm for the past half hour could definitely give the cocksucking bartender the wrong impression.
Adam licks his ear, and Kris forgets about the bartender.
“So unless you want to blow me, maybe you should fuck off and let me get laid.”
Adam’s voice has gone low and soft and it isn’t the first time he’s done this, friendship with Adam is full of little intimacies, but the club is too dark, too crowded, too loud, and Kris is tired. He shivers, hard, and while the noise he makes isn’t a moan, it’s close enough. Adam pulls back like Kris just called him a name, and even in the dark Kris can see his eyes, wide and shocked.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Kris shuts his eyes - this wasn’t anything anyone was ever supposed to know - but Adam grabs his chin.
“No, fuck you, look at me.”
Kris does. Adam has moved in front of Kris, blocking out the rest of the club and Kris feels cold all down the side that Adam was pressed against. Adam’s eyes glance down his body and Kris twitches, cheeks coloring. His shirt isn’t long enough to hide the fact that Adam’s tongue on his ear took him from half hard to aching. Adam looks back up, expression caught somewhere between anger and disbelief.
“Really, Kris? You can’t just keep to back rooms and glory holes like any other straight boy? You have to paw at me for months instead?”
Adam’s moving closer, crowding Kris against the wall, broad and warm and the familiar smell of him blotting out the thick, smoke/alcohol/strangers smell of the club and Kris doesn’t mean to, but he leans into Adam. Adam shoves him back sharply, both hands on Kris’ chest pinning him to the wall, and steps forward, his leg pushing between Kris thighs and both of them groan. Adam slides one hand down, palming Kris’ cock through his jeans and Kris bucks into it helplessly. Adam’s head is down, watching his own hand, and he glances up at Kris through the fringe of his bangs.
“I should leave you here like this, just for being such a fucking cocktease.”
“No, no Adam.” Kris panics a little, and grabs at Adam’s wrist but the thick leather bracelet Adam is wearing slides under his hand and Adam pulls away, pins Kris’ wrist to the wall, laughing sharp and disbelieving.
“You think that this is how it works?” Adam hisses, teeth bared and he’s mad, maybe madder that Kris has ever seen him. Kris thinks normal people would be scared now, or worried, at least.
“You think you just get to tease until someone snaps and gives you what you want? So you get some cock and it’s not your fault?”
Kris turns his face away, cheeks hot because it’s not like that at all, but Adam’s hand is back on him and he can’t find the words to explain.
“Adam-” Kris cuts off with a gasp when Adam squeezes him too hard, Adam’s watching Kris face again, expression oddly detached.
“Let's go.” Adam doesn’t wait for Kris’ nod, just turns and pushes through the crowd, still holding Kris' wrist. It takes Kris a minute to realize Adam’s not heading for the exit.
The bathroom is painfully well-lit and smells like ammonia; Adam drags Kris into the last stall and presses him against the wall and drops to his knees, swallowing Kris’ cock and soon as he gets Kris’ pants and briefs out of the way. Kris moans, and shoves his wrist into his mouth when it echoes back at him. Adam ignores him, holding Kris’ hips hard against the wall and fucking his mouth on Kris’ cock, all the way down and a long slow twist back up, cheeks hollowed. Kris muffles the whines and grunts Adam is pulling out of him as best he can, his other hand fisted tight, thumping against the tile. Kris tries to warn Adam when he comes but Adam’s hands just tighten on his hips, mouth working fast and tight over the head of Kris’ cock and Kris lets go with a cracked little moan.
Adam comes up off his knees and takes Kris’ face in his hands then his mouth is on Kris’, slippery with his own come and Kris doesn’t even think, just opens up for it, swallowing around the almost-kiss, Adam’s thumbs stroking his throat. They press when Adam pulls back, keeping Kris from chasing his mouth. Adam’s expression is curiously flat, only his red, wet mouth, the gloss all rubbed off, giving away what he was just doing.
“There, you got what you wanted,” Kris flinches. “Now, you can come home with me, or you can go home alone and keep your hands to yourself after this.”
Kris swallows, throat clicking, tasting himself, and reaches for Adam’s hand. Adam avoids it, lip curling.
“Baby, if you can’t say it you can’t have it.”
Kris swallows again, can’t look at Adam. “Take me home. Fuck me, I want it.”
Adam smiles, “Good boy.”
The drive back to the hotel feels endless. Adam doesn’t touch him, doesn’t look at him, and Kris clenches his hands in his lap to keep from reaching out and touching him. Adam, for the first time since Kris met him, is intimidating. With his jacket on Kris can’t even tell if Adam is hard. Kris hopes he is, and can’t stop stealing glances. Adam’s profile, long legs, his hands on the steering wheel. His hair is a little rumpled, and he keeps licking his lips, Kris breathes in and looks out his own window, praying Adam won’t change his mind.
They make it back to Adam’s room and he still isn’t talking and Kris feels knotted up and lost. Adam strips off his jacket, back to Kris and the stretch of his shirt across his shoulders is too tempting. Kris slides his hands up Adam’s back, feels his startled little jump as Adam turns around and watches him. Kris leans up, wanting Adam’s mouth, and gets slapped hard enough to rock him back on his heels. The shock of it makes him yelp and he stares at Adam, speechless, and Adam looks back, angry and bruised.
“Save that for your wife.”
Kris flinches, nods, and flinches again when Adam reaches out and strokes his cheek with the back of his hand, rings cold against hot, stinging skin. Adam smiles a little, says “That looks good on you,” and Kris has a beat of knowing what’s coming before the second slap lands on his other cheek, hard enough to make his ears ring. Kris rocks with the blow, gasping. There’s not enough air in the room. Adam’s thumb strokes gently across Kris’ bottom lip and he sways when Adam takes a step back, strips Kris’ shirt over his head and unbuttons his jeans.
Adam reaches out, touches the wide damp spot on Kris briefs and his tone is soft, admiring. “Look at that. And you just came. You’re such a whore, Kris.” The third slap lands on his cock and Kris convulses, whines in the back of his throat, high and helpless, completely beyond being able to untangle the sensation. Adam’s petting the damp spot again and Kris is leaking more, cock throbbing in his briefs.
“You can say stop, and I’ll leave, or you can tell me to do that again.”
Kris swallows hard, blinks back the tears stinging his eyes. “Again.”
Five more slaps and Kris’ knees buckle on the last one; Adam catches him by the arms and holds Kris up while he gulps air, sobbing. Adam tugs Kris hand forward, presses it to his crotch and Kris moans, stupidly relieved by how hard Adam is under his hand.
“Ohhh, look what you did.” Adam murmurs against Kris’ forehead, “Sit on the bed.”
Adam follows him there, tips his chin up with one finger and Kris watches him unbutton his jeans. He can’t quite stop his quiet “Oh, please.”
Adam’s fingers fumble on his zipper. “Jesus. Cockslut. I wish I’d know this is how they grew them in the South. I’ve been fishing in the wrong pool.”
Adam shoves his jeans open the rest of the way, eases his cock out and it’s not like Kris hadn’t known Adam was big, but it’s another thing to have it in his face. Adam thumbs down the curve of Kris’ mouth stretched around his cock, holds the back of his head and pushes in, fast and choking and Kris’ tongue gets in the way, gagging him. Adam fucks his mouth quick and hard while Kris struggles to keep up, eyes tearing and chin slick with spit because he can’t swallow with Adam’s cock against the back of his throat.
When Adam pulls his cock away Kris chases it with his mouth and gets his hair yanked. Adam is breathing heavy and fast above him. Kris gasps for air and it tastes like Adam.
“I thought you’d be better at that.”
Kris’ face burns, and he can feel his pulse thumping in his clenched hands. The wet head of Adam’s cock brushes his mouth and Kris opens for it. Adam just gives him the head laying heavy and smooth on his tongue.
Kris closes his lips around Adam’s cock and tries to remember what he likes having done to him. It seems to work with Adam telling him more, less, harder, not that, like this, his hand jacking the rest of his cock lazily until his breathing is coming short and sharp. Adam’s cock swelling in his mouth is all the warning Kris gets before he comes and Kris tries to swallow but can’t keep up.
“We’ll need to work on that.” Adam says, wiping up what Kris missed with his fingers and sliding them into Kris’ mouth for him to clean. Kris does, and tries not to think about getting to do this again. Adam steps back.
“Pants off. Hands and knees on the bed.”
Kris obeys, fast and a little clumsy and stares at the generic print of the hotel bedspread, listening to Adam get something from the nightstand. The bed dips, and Adam’s hands slide over his ass, spreading Kris with his thumbs.
“I’m going to fuck you.”
Kris groans, cock jerking at the words. “Please.”
Adam snorts, sharp and humourless, “Slut,” his fingers slide cool and slick over Kris’ hole, teasing little circles that make his arms shake. “How many times have you done this? Who else took you home and turned you out?”
Kris shakes his head “No one, never, Adam, I didn’t-” and his words end on a ragged gasp when Adam pushes two fingers into him.
Adam fingers Kris until he’s desperate, stroking his fingers over Kris’ prostate, tapping it and making Kris’ whole body jerk and his hips twist, screwing himself back onto Adam’s fingers. He pulls out and holds Kris still, empty and slick until Kris begs and pleads, tells Adam he can do anything he wants, just please.
Adam curls his fingers and Kris groans, clenches down around him and it’s not enough.
Kris hates Adam a little for the smoothness of his tone. He could be giving an interview.
“Fuck me.” Kris spits it out, eyes shut.
“I am,” Another curl of his fingers and Kris’ arms shake. “If you want something else you need to ask.”
It’s so easy to say, there’s nothing left in Kris that wants to resist. “Fuck me. I want your cock. Please, I need-”
Adam’s fingers slip out and Kris cries out, feeling hollowed out, then the slick, blunt head of Adam’s cock is pressing into him and Kris forgets to breathe. It’s devastating, it’s hurts, more than when Adam had slapped his cock and Kris jerks back into it, keening high and thin when Adam snaps forward to meet him. Adam swears, hips rolling and Kris stops trying to keep his arms locked. Adam leans over him, pressing Kris’ face into the mattress and fucking him slow and hard, reaching under Kris to twist his nipples or drag his blunt nails across Kris’ skin with his voice running a soft litany, calling Kris every name but his own while Kris lets go of everything except yes and Adam’s name.
Kris doesn’t know how long he slept, but it feels late when he wakes up, like the dark got heavier, and it’s Adam spooned up behind him, Adam’s hand stroking down his chest, Adam’s cock sliding into him again that wakes him. Kris shudders, almost sore enough to say stop, and flails back, grabbing Adam’s hip.
His voice sounds like shit, cracking and wobbling all over and it seizes up in his throat when Adam kisses his cheek, so brief Kris isn’t sure it actually happened until Adam kisses him again, dry and soft on the corner of Kris’ eye, feathering more kisses down to Kris’ mouth. Adam says his name there, holding back, sounding just as wrecked as Kris does. All the tension drains out of Kris and he slumps back into Adam, pushing back further onto his cock and reaching for his mouth. Adam whimpers, hesitates and Kris says “Please,” in a voice too small in the dark and licks Adam’s bottom lip, takes it between his own and sucks. Adam’s arm tightens around him and he kisses back.