Two Times and You're To Blame

by saabira

For Nico.

It's Trace's idea to go to see Chicago. He saw the movie and he hasn't stopped talking about it since. It's your first night off in quite a few months and you really want to sleep, but he talks you into it. But you're cultured and you can enjoy the theater and you honestly forget that Kevin is going to be there until your car has already turned onto 42nd.

The Kevin Thing took a long time to work through. You carried around your crush for him for an embarrassingly long time. When nothing came of any of the encounters you've had with him- the charity game, Lou's parties, backstage at awards shows- you just...got over it. And by the time you started dating Britney, it was a thing of the past. Almost. Every now and then he'd sneak into your dreams, or when you took care of your morning wood, a blurry figure with dark hair and green eyes.

You manage to enjoy the show after Kevin's presence stops being so damned distracting.

~

The after party is actually a lot of fun. Trace slipped away from you almost as soon as you'd entered the door. You last spotted him on the other side of the bar, laughing with a couple of the chorus girls.

After your fourth Jack and coke, Kristen excuses herself from the table and disappears down a hallway. You swirl the liquor around in the glass and figure you're imagining the way Kevin slides his chair closer to you. You tell him you liked the show, that he was really good in it, and you're humming a couple bars of "Cell Block Tango" when you realize you're more drunk than you thought. Kevin is laughs lowly and sings a couple lyrics, reaches a hand out and touches your hand. You're not imagining that. You swallow the last of your drink, and feel the alcohol slide warm down your throat. Kevin's still singing a little, and your stomach twists.

"I'm gonna grab some water," you tell him. "I'm a little..."

He smiles. "That's cool, dawg. I'm not, so grab me another beer."

Trace is suddenly standing right behind you at the bar. "Hey, Trace."

The bartender places an Evian and a Heineken in front of you, and you turn towards your best friend.

"What are you doing, J?"

"Hanging out. With Kevin."

"Dude, how wasted are you?"

"A lot." It's the truth.

"Whatever. Listen, I'm ready to get out of here. Are you coming with me?"

You take a sip of your water, and look over to the table where Kevin is talking to a member of the cast. He looks up and finds your eye and nods to you. "I'm staying," you say to Trace.

"This is a bad idea, man. I thought you were over that stupid kiddie crush."

"Trace, I'll be all right. I'll see you later. And, uh, you can take the car."

Kristen has returned to the table by the time you drop back into your seat. Kevin takes the Heineken, and thanks you. Kristen starts asking you about your album, and before you know it another hour has passed. Kristen goes to grab your coats from the coat-check, and Kevin smiles at you and asks you to come back to their apartment. The tone of his voice make heat jump in your belly, and you say 'yes' before you can talk yourself out of it.

~

He doesn't touch you again until you're stepping into the elevator, when he places a guiding hand on the small of your back. You imagine you can feel the warmth of his palm through the layers of your clothes, but that's silly. It's a short climb to the tenth floor and your heart is pounding the whole way.

"It was nice seeing you again, Justin," Kristen says. "I'm going to bed. You boys have fun," and she winks at you.

"Would you like something to drink?" Kevin asks suddenly, and you're only slightly startled.

"Oh, no thanks."

"Are you okay?" He's looking at you with curiosity plain on his face.

You nod. "I'm good. I'm really good." He takes your hand, and leads you into a den, and kisses you. The first thought that rings clear in your mind is that his mustache and goatee tickle the skin around your mouth. His tongue touches your lips and it's just like getting everything you ever wanted.

You close your eyes as he pulls away from you, and begins drawing you further into the room. You shake out of your coat, and start unbuckling your belt. He pulls you down into a plush couch and you’re kissing again. You open your mouth and push your tongue against his. His mouth is cool and hot at the same time and tastes like beer.

Up until right then, you hadn't really thought it was going to happen. The whole night has unveiled before you in a surreal series of events, everything leading towards this. Kevin's hands slide down your back, under your hem and back up, rucking up your t-shirt, warming your skin. The kiss breaks and restarts, sending shiver after shiver spiraling through your body. Kevin's mouth slides across your chin, and down to your throat, sucking at your collarbone. You manage to collect enough of your wits to grasp at the top buttons of his shirt, trying to slip them loose; you want to get your hands on his skin.

He slips his hands from under your shirt and clasps your hands, bringing them back down and behind you, pressing them lightly into the cushions, while he slides off the couch to kneel at your feet. No one's ever said you're not helpful, and you thoughtfully lift your hips so he can slide your jeans down and he brings your shorts with them.

He's looking up at you, lids lowered when you first feel his fist close around your cock. The feel of his mustache and then his tongue as licks a swipe along your thigh, and you don't have time to catch your breath before he takes your cock all the way into his mouth and you feel him swallow around you. The reality of Kevin sucking your dick matches up with the old fantasies, playing out in flickers on your eyelids before it all explodes and a moan tears loose from deep inside your throat. Kevin has a clever tongue and amazing fingers and his throat contracts around your dick again and again. He slides back, teasing lightly, before enveloping you again.

Your whole body feels good, electric and alive, but your cock feels fantastic. His strong hands ease your thighs wider; you slide down into the couch a bit more, and doubles his efforts to make you come. The sounds you are both making are ringing throughout the room, and you can clearly hear your breathing getting lighter, the tone airy, and you know it won't be long before all the pleasure bubbling through you culminates.

In the end, you're completely unprepared for the way your orgasm slams into you. Kevin just keeps sucking and swallowing until the waves of pleasure become unbearable. He lets you slide free and comes up to deliver a quick peck to your slack mouth.

You open your eyes when he leaves the room, sitting up to try to discern where he's gone. He's back shortly, a glass of water in one hand and a towel in the other. You take them both, downing the water in deep cold droughts and wiping yourself down with the warm rag and somewhere between the two you realize you're being asked to go.

"This was cool, dawg. I had a good time."

There's a weird silence ringing in your head, and all you can think is, I'm being kicked out, but you manage to cover as you fuss with your clothes, trying to get everything refastened. "Yeah. It was real cool," you say and you hope your smile looks genuine. You didn't even get to see him naked, and he's kicking you out like a damn groupie, and you're scrambling to gain some of the upper ground he obviously has all the control of.

"Do you need to call a ride? Or the doorman can call you a cab..."

"That cab would be good." You locate your coat on the floor near the couch and snatch it up between trembling fingers. He calls the doorman from a phone in the hall.

At the door, he clasps your hand, and pounds your back lightly. "Have a good night, man."

"Yeah, you do the same." He waits in the doorway until the elevator doors slide close between you.

The cab is waiting when you get to the lobby, and in the short ride back to your hotel, you realize that you are painfully, concretely sober. The whole night replays in your mind, and the only thing you can focus on is, 'fuck Trace for being right.' Your prayer is answered and Trace has already gone to bed when you enter your suite. In the shower, you rest your head against the cool tile and let the powerful spray wash over you. By the time you tumble into bed you don't feel any less like a whore.

Fin: 05/03

[third time around] * [back home]