withthepilot (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
withthepilot) wrote2009-10-03 02:03 pm
withthepilot) wrote2009-10-03 02:03 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Two Urbine ficlets
...even though my urge always remains to refer to them as "Urine."
Title: Big Spoon, Little Spoon
Rating: R, to be safe
Pairing: Karl/Chris
Notes: 931 words; written for the following![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
trek_rpf_kink prompt: When Chris and Karl sleep, the big Kiwi bastard likes to be the little spoon. Urbine fluff.
Summary: See prompt.
Chris shifts his hips to pull off Karl's cock, which feels nicely spent inside his glorious warmth but sadly must depart if they want to get any sleep. The slow slide goodbye makes both men groan faintly, and Chris flops beside his Kiwi boyfriend on the bed, his back arching as he stretches his arms.
"Oh, fuck me," he sighs. Karl laughs and wipes his brow; dark brown strands are matted to his forehead with sweat and he pushes them back, past his hairline.
"I think I just did that, actually. Or is your short-term memory loss kicking in?"
"Whatever, you're the old man around here, old man. And I was the one fucking myself; your cock just happened to be there."
"Oh, really," Karl drawls, furrowing his brow as he feigns indignation. This is a pretty new and shiny thing, this pseudo-relationship they're forging here, but teasing has already been firmly established as okay in their books, except when it comes to taste in music. Chris will not let anyone judge his pure, undying devotion to Coldplay and Karl found that one out the hard way. "Maybe next time it won't be."
"It will be." Chris smirks and kisses his shoulder, sliding his fingertips over the five o'clock shadow along Karl's jaw. "It'll get one look at my fine ass and it won't be able to resist sneaking inside."
"Yes, my penis has always been the crafty sort. Staying awake at night, scheming." Karl yawns and bends his elbow to drop his own fingers into Chris' hair, twisting it into short spikes and then mussing it again. He leans in to press an affectionate kiss to those full, inviting lips. "We've got to be up early tomorrow, huh?"
Chris nods, moving his hand to rub at Karl's chest. "Yeah, we gotta be on set first thing in the morning and I want to get a run in before we go." To the tune of "Viva La Vida" on repeat, Karl thinks, but he keeps mum. "So I think I'm gonna skip the late-night TV and turn in, if you don't mind."
"Don't mind at all. I'm with you; sleep sounds good, especially after that."
"See, you are an old man." Chris grins cheekily, reaching up to turn off his bedside lamp and moving under the covers, turning on his side away from Karl. "'Night, Karlybear."
"Yeah, 'night."
Karl peers at the shadows draped across Chris' muscled back and shoulders and fights the urge to sigh. Most nights, he either insinuates his body against Chris'—the big spoon in their makeshift cutlery drawer—or they just fall asleep on top of each other, blissfully exhausted after what Karl would deem epic sexing. And Karl doesn't exactly mind these particular sleeping arrangements, but he's got a secret preference that he hasn't yet confessed to Chris; he often wonders if maybe he shouldn't. But then his eyes travel over the solid biceps and strong hands of the man beside him, and he can't help but long for what he's been missing.
He leans in and drops a kiss on the nape of Chris' neck, which gets him a soft, happy sound. "Chris," he whispers. "Still awake?"
"Mmm," he responds, still hugging his pillow. "What's up? Am I hogging the covers?"
"No, no..." Karl runs a hand through his hair, pursing his lips nervously. Why he's nervous, he doesn't even know. Something about Chris still rattles him—maybe the fact that he likes him so much. Which is possibly the sappiest thought he's ever had, yes, but he's about to get a lot sappier. "Would you mind if we, ah...spooned the other way?"
Chris, to his credit, doesn't break out in snorts or mocking laughter. He just peers over his shoulder at Karl, lifting his brow in genuine curiosity. "Seriously? I didn't think you were into that."
"Yeah, well...I am, sometimes." His mouth twists slightly. "A lot. Often."
"And you didn't say so sooner because you were embarrassed," Chris supplies. Karl opens his mouth, about to unleash some combination of snark and devastating poutiness, but the younger man just shakes his head and rolls over, patting Karl's ass. "All right, Urban. Assume the position."
Karl does as he's told, but he also makes sure to grumble a bit. "Well, now I feel stupid," he murmurs. Chris simply shushes him and presses his body snugly against Karl's, his hips slipping into a comfortable fit against Karl's backside. And when those strong arms find their away around him, the embarrassment actually dissipates into something much more warm and snuggly. Chris feels so good spooned against him like this, and Karl lets the comforting sensation melt over him; like this, he can allow himself to feel calm, secure...safe, lord help him. And Chris didn't even laugh, not once. He's grateful.
"Don't," Chris whispers, voice as smooth as a melted sugar cube. His nose finds its way against the soft hair at the back of Karl's neck, a soft tickle that makes him shiver, then relax further. "I've got you."
"Yeah, looks like you do."
If it wasn't already good, they start breathing in unison and then it's just beyond perfect. Karl covers Chris' arms with his own, circling his fingers around his wrists, so he can track the pulse beneath the skin. He can actually feel Chris' smug smile against his neck, and he squeezes one wrist as a gentle warning. Don't start with me, Pine, he almost says, but he's done teasing for now. The silence is too gorgeous to break and plus, he's smiling, too.
Title: Come for Him
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Karl/Chris
Notes: 555 words; written for the followingtrek_rpf_kink prompt: Karl dirty talking to Chris about Zach during sex...and Chris really, really likes it.
Summary: See prompt.
"You do, don't you? I saw you, Chris...come on, admit it."
Chris grits his teeth against another hoarse gasp; he can practically feel it bounce off the backs of his molars when Karl thrusts in deep, sending him scrabbling at the sheets—the sheets that are so mercilessly grazing his cock, with no barrier to ease the friction. Karl's obviously not going to give him any relief until he just goes ahead and says it, and he really doesn't want to beg, not tonight.
"Yes, y-yeah, I was...I was looking. He—he turns me on, fuck..."
"I know he does." Karl presses both hands to the sweat-slick small of Chris's back, pinning him down forcefully. The younger man muffles a desperate cry against the mattress. "What do you like about him? The man does look good in a suit. Or the eyes—it's the eyes, isn't it? With those fucking eyebrows of his..."
"I...I like it all," he croaks, trying in vain to hump the mattress. He wishes Karl would pull back, push forward, do something. If he shuts his eyes, he can almost envision someone else fucking him, torturing him, and the very idea makes him shudder.
Karl laughs darkly, clenching a hand in Chris' short hair, tugging sharply and making him hiss. "You're thinking about him right now, aren't you? You want him like this, Chris...? He is a handsome bastard, isn't he? All dark hair and pale skin...bet he'd look perfect against you, golden boy. Shit."
Chris keens when Karl rocks forward at a new angle, his cock finding its target. His whole body spasms and he grasps the sheets tightly for purchase. "Y-yeah, god, yeah..."
"Christmas is coming," Karl murmurs, thinking aloud as he quickens his pace. He lets up on Chris enough for him to rub properly against the bed. "Wouldn't be surprised if he asked Santa for a hot piece of Chris Pine...I could leave you tied to his kitchen cabinet one day, with a gag in your mouth and a sign on your chest that says, Fuck Me Senseless. Let him do whatever he wants to do, fulfill all his darkest fantasies...just leave you there for him to fuck you morning, noon and night... You'd like that, wouldn't you, gorgeous?"
"Yes! Karl, please, please..."
"Maybe he'll let you fuck him...I bet he makes the sweetest sounds. And those lips were fucking made to suck that big dick of yours. He's a pro; he could probably take you all the way..."
Karl pulls harder on his hair and Chris' body arches at the older man's command, his eyes rolling back from the strain. He can feel the heat pooling in his gut as Karl gets more descriptive, paints him the prettiest fucking picture. "M'close," he whispers, muscles tense and breath ragged. Karl kneads his ass and spreads him open further, even as he tries to clench around him.
"He wants you to come, Chris."
Karl nips at Chris' ear and his body jolts, his brain submitting to static. The entire world melts away beyond Karl's sultry voice and the stubbled, smirking visage he sees so clearly in his mind's eye—both of them taunting him, leaving him dangling right at the edge. Karl. Zach.
"Come for him," they both command.
With their names on his trembling lips, he obeys.
Title: Big Spoon, Little Spoon
Rating: R, to be safe
Pairing: Karl/Chris
Notes: 931 words; written for the following
trek_rpf_kink prompt: When Chris and Karl sleep, the big Kiwi bastard likes to be the little spoon. Urbine fluff.Summary: See prompt.
Chris shifts his hips to pull off Karl's cock, which feels nicely spent inside his glorious warmth but sadly must depart if they want to get any sleep. The slow slide goodbye makes both men groan faintly, and Chris flops beside his Kiwi boyfriend on the bed, his back arching as he stretches his arms.
"Oh, fuck me," he sighs. Karl laughs and wipes his brow; dark brown strands are matted to his forehead with sweat and he pushes them back, past his hairline.
"I think I just did that, actually. Or is your short-term memory loss kicking in?"
"Whatever, you're the old man around here, old man. And I was the one fucking myself; your cock just happened to be there."
"Oh, really," Karl drawls, furrowing his brow as he feigns indignation. This is a pretty new and shiny thing, this pseudo-relationship they're forging here, but teasing has already been firmly established as okay in their books, except when it comes to taste in music. Chris will not let anyone judge his pure, undying devotion to Coldplay and Karl found that one out the hard way. "Maybe next time it won't be."
"It will be." Chris smirks and kisses his shoulder, sliding his fingertips over the five o'clock shadow along Karl's jaw. "It'll get one look at my fine ass and it won't be able to resist sneaking inside."
"Yes, my penis has always been the crafty sort. Staying awake at night, scheming." Karl yawns and bends his elbow to drop his own fingers into Chris' hair, twisting it into short spikes and then mussing it again. He leans in to press an affectionate kiss to those full, inviting lips. "We've got to be up early tomorrow, huh?"
Chris nods, moving his hand to rub at Karl's chest. "Yeah, we gotta be on set first thing in the morning and I want to get a run in before we go." To the tune of "Viva La Vida" on repeat, Karl thinks, but he keeps mum. "So I think I'm gonna skip the late-night TV and turn in, if you don't mind."
"Don't mind at all. I'm with you; sleep sounds good, especially after that."
"See, you are an old man." Chris grins cheekily, reaching up to turn off his bedside lamp and moving under the covers, turning on his side away from Karl. "'Night, Karlybear."
"Yeah, 'night."
Karl peers at the shadows draped across Chris' muscled back and shoulders and fights the urge to sigh. Most nights, he either insinuates his body against Chris'—the big spoon in their makeshift cutlery drawer—or they just fall asleep on top of each other, blissfully exhausted after what Karl would deem epic sexing. And Karl doesn't exactly mind these particular sleeping arrangements, but he's got a secret preference that he hasn't yet confessed to Chris; he often wonders if maybe he shouldn't. But then his eyes travel over the solid biceps and strong hands of the man beside him, and he can't help but long for what he's been missing.
He leans in and drops a kiss on the nape of Chris' neck, which gets him a soft, happy sound. "Chris," he whispers. "Still awake?"
"Mmm," he responds, still hugging his pillow. "What's up? Am I hogging the covers?"
"No, no..." Karl runs a hand through his hair, pursing his lips nervously. Why he's nervous, he doesn't even know. Something about Chris still rattles him—maybe the fact that he likes him so much. Which is possibly the sappiest thought he's ever had, yes, but he's about to get a lot sappier. "Would you mind if we, ah...spooned the other way?"
Chris, to his credit, doesn't break out in snorts or mocking laughter. He just peers over his shoulder at Karl, lifting his brow in genuine curiosity. "Seriously? I didn't think you were into that."
"Yeah, well...I am, sometimes." His mouth twists slightly. "A lot. Often."
"And you didn't say so sooner because you were embarrassed," Chris supplies. Karl opens his mouth, about to unleash some combination of snark and devastating poutiness, but the younger man just shakes his head and rolls over, patting Karl's ass. "All right, Urban. Assume the position."
Karl does as he's told, but he also makes sure to grumble a bit. "Well, now I feel stupid," he murmurs. Chris simply shushes him and presses his body snugly against Karl's, his hips slipping into a comfortable fit against Karl's backside. And when those strong arms find their away around him, the embarrassment actually dissipates into something much more warm and snuggly. Chris feels so good spooned against him like this, and Karl lets the comforting sensation melt over him; like this, he can allow himself to feel calm, secure...safe, lord help him. And Chris didn't even laugh, not once. He's grateful.
"Don't," Chris whispers, voice as smooth as a melted sugar cube. His nose finds its way against the soft hair at the back of Karl's neck, a soft tickle that makes him shiver, then relax further. "I've got you."
"Yeah, looks like you do."
If it wasn't already good, they start breathing in unison and then it's just beyond perfect. Karl covers Chris' arms with his own, circling his fingers around his wrists, so he can track the pulse beneath the skin. He can actually feel Chris' smug smile against his neck, and he squeezes one wrist as a gentle warning. Don't start with me, Pine, he almost says, but he's done teasing for now. The silence is too gorgeous to break and plus, he's smiling, too.
Title: Come for Him
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Karl/Chris
Notes: 555 words; written for the following
trek_rpf_kink prompt: Karl dirty talking to Chris about Zach during sex...and Chris really, really likes it.Summary: See prompt.
"You do, don't you? I saw you, Chris...come on, admit it."
Chris grits his teeth against another hoarse gasp; he can practically feel it bounce off the backs of his molars when Karl thrusts in deep, sending him scrabbling at the sheets—the sheets that are so mercilessly grazing his cock, with no barrier to ease the friction. Karl's obviously not going to give him any relief until he just goes ahead and says it, and he really doesn't want to beg, not tonight.
"Yes, y-yeah, I was...I was looking. He—he turns me on, fuck..."
"I know he does." Karl presses both hands to the sweat-slick small of Chris's back, pinning him down forcefully. The younger man muffles a desperate cry against the mattress. "What do you like about him? The man does look good in a suit. Or the eyes—it's the eyes, isn't it? With those fucking eyebrows of his..."
"I...I like it all," he croaks, trying in vain to hump the mattress. He wishes Karl would pull back, push forward, do something. If he shuts his eyes, he can almost envision someone else fucking him, torturing him, and the very idea makes him shudder.
Karl laughs darkly, clenching a hand in Chris' short hair, tugging sharply and making him hiss. "You're thinking about him right now, aren't you? You want him like this, Chris...? He is a handsome bastard, isn't he? All dark hair and pale skin...bet he'd look perfect against you, golden boy. Shit."
Chris keens when Karl rocks forward at a new angle, his cock finding its target. His whole body spasms and he grasps the sheets tightly for purchase. "Y-yeah, god, yeah..."
"Christmas is coming," Karl murmurs, thinking aloud as he quickens his pace. He lets up on Chris enough for him to rub properly against the bed. "Wouldn't be surprised if he asked Santa for a hot piece of Chris Pine...I could leave you tied to his kitchen cabinet one day, with a gag in your mouth and a sign on your chest that says, Fuck Me Senseless. Let him do whatever he wants to do, fulfill all his darkest fantasies...just leave you there for him to fuck you morning, noon and night... You'd like that, wouldn't you, gorgeous?"
"Yes! Karl, please, please..."
"Maybe he'll let you fuck him...I bet he makes the sweetest sounds. And those lips were fucking made to suck that big dick of yours. He's a pro; he could probably take you all the way..."
Karl pulls harder on his hair and Chris' body arches at the older man's command, his eyes rolling back from the strain. He can feel the heat pooling in his gut as Karl gets more descriptive, paints him the prettiest fucking picture. "M'close," he whispers, muscles tense and breath ragged. Karl kneads his ass and spreads him open further, even as he tries to clench around him.
"He wants you to come, Chris."
Karl nips at Chris' ear and his body jolts, his brain submitting to static. The entire world melts away beyond Karl's sultry voice and the stubbled, smirking visage he sees so clearly in his mind's eye—both of them taunting him, leaving him dangling right at the edge. Karl. Zach.
"Come for him," they both command.
With their names on his trembling lips, he obeys.