Authors: Mika Fox
He's
glad for the open, one-room layout of Killian's place when they start stumbling
through it, peeling off each other’s shirts and unzipping flies. There's no
hesitation or apprehension, as though they have already done this a million
times before, and before Dominic knows it, he has been pushed down onto the bed
and Killian is climbing on top of him, swooping down to ram their mouths
together in a frankly devouring kiss. Dominic has no issue with that
whatsoever, only feels the slightest surprise at how intense this guy can be,
in sharp contrast to the constantly level and even expression on his face. Who
knew that there could be such fire underneath?
They
lose all of their clothes in a matter of seconds, switching positions so that
Killian is on his back and Dominic is grinding down against him, hands gripping
shoulders and hips and smoothing over heated skin, and Dominic can feel every
ounce of common sense slip away. It's an amazing feeling, perhaps his favorite
thing about this type of activity, and it's only when Killian moans deeply
against his mouth that he thinks that maybe that feeling can actually be beat.
Because Killian is something special, demanding and rough, tasting Dominic's
skin with lips and tongue and teeth, in an oddly possessive kind of way. It's
not what Dominic is used to, but
god
,
he definitely doesn't mind.
Killian's
skin is as smooth as he thought it would be, muscles tensing up as Dominic
trails his mouth down along his chest in a way he hasn't been able to do during
their interactions so far, and Killian digs his fingers into his hair, groaning
as he arches his back. Dominic loves the way Killian keens as he drags blunt
fingernails over the tattoo on his side, capturing his lips in a kiss that
leaves them both light-headed.
"So,
how you wanna do this?" Dominic breathes, his mind already clouding with a
hunger he immediately needs to sate, and Killian reaches down between them to
take him in his hand, in a very pointed, determined gesture.
"How
about I turn over," he says against Dominic's lips, while Dominic nearly
whines in pleased surprise, "and you do the math?"
Oh,
Dominic doesn't mind that in the
least.
It
doesn't take long before Killian has procured lube and a condom from his
bedside table, and something about his eager air when he gets on his hands and
knees makes Dominic feel amused and immensely turned-on, all at once. He
chuckles breathlessly.
"Quite
the power bottom, aren't you?" he says teasingly, earning an impatient
groan from Killian.
"Just
shut up and get on me," he practically growls, and Dominic isn't about to
argue. He kisses down along Killian's spine, smoothing one hand over his ass
while the other fumbles for the lube next to him on the bed. Once he has it, he
coats his fingers in the thick liquid and presses them into that welcoming,
tight heat, making Killian moan deeply as he grabs the sheets, and Dominic
bites his lip at the sweet sound. This guy might just be the death of him. God
knows, he's already so hard himself that he can barely think straight.
They
don't need much preparation―it quickly becomes clear that neither of them
is a stranger to this, and it speeds up the process significantly. By the time
Dominic gets a condom on, Killian is breathing heavily from the slow,
agonizingly precise teasing of Dominic's fingers. It's hard to say who of them
is more eager.
Dominic
takes in the sight in front of him for a moment, trails his fingers down along
Killian's spine and pale skin, before leaning down to place slow, open-mouthed
kisses against his shoulder, his neck, right below his ear. Killian lets out a
moan that's somewhere between pleased and annoyed, and Dominic smiles to
himself, before slowly and deliberately pushing inside.
The
effect is immediate. Dominic squeezes his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as he
slowly pulls out and pushes back in, over and over, until he finally bottoms
out and just holds still for a moment or two. Because
god,
it feels good. It feels
amazing
,
and he just needs a minute to really savor it.
Killian
is apparently not one for patience, however.
"Fucking
move," he says in a labored breath, and Dominic complies. He figures that
he wouldn’t have been able to resist for much longer anyway, and as soon as he
does start moving, he is proven right.
Killian
is vocal―that's the first thing Dominic notices. With every thrust, he
lets out a strangled, broken moan that is just all the right kinds of dirty and
enticing, and although Dominic tries his best to keep his cool at least for a
little while longer, he can feel himself quickly start to unravel. It's
impossible not to, when Killian is anything but passive, moving back against
him and digging into the sheets with his fingers, groaning deeply when Dominic
slides one hand up along his neck to pull his fingers through his hair. It's
undoubtedly one of the most arousing things Dominic has ever been privy to, and
it doesn't take long before they're both inching closer to the edge, Dominic's
skin burning, blood pounding in his ears.
He
moves both hands down to Killian's hips, gripping them tightly as he moves,
picking up the pace and making them both gasp roughly at the applied pressure.
It's when Killian bites out a particularly loud moan, that Dominic knows he has
hit the spot.
"Oh,
right there," Killian grunts, his breath starting to stutter. "Shit,
right there."
Dominic
obeys,
pistoning
into him with new conviction, and
when he reaches down to stroke Killian in time with his thrusts, the sounds the
artist makes are just heavenly, pushing Dominic to climax within seconds.
Perhaps
it's because of the two weeks of pining, or the several days of teasing, or
most likely a combination of the two, but Dominic swears he sees stars as he
comes, fingers digging into Killian's skin. Killian isn't far behind, equally
affected, and it's not until a full six minutes later, when they're both lying
on their backs in the bed, that either of them speaks.
"Man,
that was good," Killian says with a heavy exhale, and Dominic makes a
satisfied sound of agreement. "Should fuck dudes more often."
Dominic
glances at him.
"You
could just do it full-time, you know," he says with a teasing edge, and
Killian makes a non-committal noise.
"Nah,
man," he says. "Girls are pretty awesome. Couldn't pick a side, even
if I wanted to."
Dominic
shrugs against the sheets.
"I
don't get it," he says. "But we all have our preferences, I
guess."
"I
don't get you monosexuals," Killian retorts. "You're missing out on
half the world's pleasures, you know."
"Oh,
yeah," Dominic says dryly. "Because I'm totally discriminating on
purpose."
Killian
grunts.
"Well,
I'm glad you're discriminating in the right direction," he says. "I
mean, just look what I would've missed out on, otherwise."
Dominic
hums contentedly, closing his eyes for a moment amidst the still-present
afterglow.
"Ditto,"
he murmurs.
A
window near the bed is ajar, letting in a soft breeze and sounds of bird song.
It's rather ideal actually, and Dominic feels himself almost dozing off for a
minute.
"Hey,"
Killian says, breaking the silence. There is only the slightest trace of
apprehension in his voice. "Let's not make this into a thing,
alright?"
Dominic
opens his eyes, turns to look at him.
"Which
part?" he asks. "The fucking, or fucking in your bed?"
Killian
throws him a glance.
"This
was an exception," he says, essentially avoiding giving a straight answer.
"This is my place; that means my rules. It doesn't mean you get to come
over whenever you want, doesn't mean we'll cuddle, or some shit. Got it?"
Dominic
huffs a tired laugh.
"Jesus,"
he says, rubbing his eyes with one hand. "Relax, it's not my first rodeo. No
need for the whole 'no-strings-attached' speech."
Killian
seems unsurprised, and equally unconvinced.
"Just
making sure we're clear," he says. "I don't have time
for―"
Dominic
groans, cutting him off.
"I
got it," he says, giving Killian a look. "Now shut up. I gotta go,
anyway."
He's
not lying; he does have stuff to do, and a work shift at the store in a couple
of hours. That said, he wouldn't mind sticking around for a little while
longer, mostly because he has never really been one for just hooking up and
taking off―there's no savoring, like he explained to Annie he wanted, the
other day.
He
sits up in the bed and swings his legs over the edge, grabbing his boxers and
pants off the floor.
"So,
we still on for this, then?" Killian asks casually, still lying on his
back behind Dominic. "The fucking-part, that is."
Dominic
nods, getting dressed and picking up his t-shirt to pull it over his head.
"Sure,"
he says, standing up and making his way around to the other side of the bed,
closer to the living room area, and more importantly, the front door. He turns
to Killian, whom he must admit looks all kinds of amazing, lying there with
nothing but thin covers to hide his body from the waist down. "I'm
game."
Killian
watches him, eyes deliberating and his expression unreadable.
"Good,"
he says. "See you around?"
Dominic
quirks a smile.
"Not
if I see you first," he says, blatantly expressing his glee at the
horrible cliché. Killian's reaction is satisfactory, as he groans and shakes
his head.
"Oh
my god," he mutters, but Dominic just laughs, moving backwards to make his
way to the hall.
"Yeah,
see you around," he says. He puts on his shoes and grabs his bag, giving
Killian a small wave, which is returned from the bed.
When
he leaves the apartment, he finds himself feeling better than he has in days,
as he promises himself that this will in fact not become a thing.
Chapter 7
Expressionism
It does become a
thing. Killian quickly gives up completely on his rule of not impulsively
hooking up at his place all the time, and Dominic isn't about to
complain―his own apartment is too far away to really be practical when
they feel like seeing each other after all, and Killian's bed is much bigger
and more comfortable than his own. As it is, they end up in said bed on a pretty
regular basis over the next few days, Dominic always leaving right after
they're done.
It's
a rather perfect arrangement, and Annie, of course, spots the development a
mile away.
"So
how is it?" she asks bluntly, as she and Dominic meet up to have lunch.
They settle for a spot on a different part of campus for once, and Annie looks
around as they sit down at a picnic table outside the entrance to the nearest
building.
"You
okay, there?" Dominic says, ignoring her question in favor of pointing out
her slightly apprehensive expression.
"I'm
fine," she says, opening her plastic container of chicken salad. "I'm
just out of my element, I've never really been at this part of the college
before."
Dominic
cocks his head.
"Well,"
he says, "it's the only part I've been to before. Isaac goes here, studies
robotics. So really, this is more familiar to me than your flowery home
turf."
He
gestures with a plastic fork in the general direction of the art building,
which is far out of sight and hidden by towering buildings dedicated to science
and engineering and everything in between.
"Glad
to hear it," Annie says. "Shanti likes them brainy."
Dominic
smiles, digging into his own chicken salad―after smothering it with
garlic dressing, that is. He half-hopes that the change of subject might be
enough to derail Annie's previous train of thought, but of course, it isn't.
"So
about your boy-toy," she says. "
Deets
,
please."
"Boy-toy?"
Dominic says, giving her a look of slight disbelief as he remembers every other
thing she has called Killian so far. "He has a name, you know."
"Oh,
so we're naming the puppy now?" Annie says with exaggerated innocence.
"You want me to call him by his real people-name, like he's your boyfriend
or something?"
She
raises her eyebrows pointedly, and Dominic gives her a small glare.
"Fine,"
he says, with a relenting sigh. "It's good. Really good. As in, top-three
good."
Annie
makes a pleased, intrigued little sound.
"Sounds
promising," she says. "Is he still grumpy?"
Dominic
frowns.
"Pretty
much, yeah," he says. "Why?"
Annie
shrugs.
"No
reason," she says. "I was just thinking that maybe some good
old-fashioned butt sex might have cheered him up."
"Too
much information," Dominic mutters, digging through his food with his
fork.
"
I'm
giving too much information about
your
sex life?" Annie says.
"Wow, I didn't even know that was a thing."
"Whatever,"
Dominic says, uncharacteristically flustered. "It's good. We hook up, it's
amazing, we blow off some steam, I leave. Everybody's happy."
"So
you've seen his place, then?" Annie asks, shaking a bottle of juice before
twisting the cap off. "Is it an attic? Basement? A series of hidden,
underground tunnels?"
She
cocks her eyebrows hopefully as she takes a sip of juice, and Dominic opens his
mouth to tell her about the surprisingly nice apartment where Killian lives,
before he stops himself. For some reason, he feels like Killian wouldn't want
him to tell, given how private he seems to be about it. If nothing else,
Dominic can't help but think that there might more to it than just
loaded parents,
which just makes the
matter feel all the more personal, albeit odd
.
Not that Killian would be the first college student to be
supported by his parents, but still.
"Sadly,
no," Dominic ends up saying. "Just an apartment. But it's pretty
nice."
Understatement,
he thinks, but
says nothing.
"Bummer,"
Annie says. "Well, if he doesn't live in a dungeon or anything, maybe he
really is just a very grumpy, mean twenty-one-year-old. I thought college was
supposed to make people loosen up. Speaking of which, how's your project
going?"
Dominic
groans, probably a little louder and more petulantly than is entirely
necessary, and he slumps in his seat.
"It's
going to shit," he says plainly. "I can't find anything, and honestly
I haven't even tried for the past week."
"Been
busy, huh?" The teasing edge to Annie's tone is not lost on him.
"Sort
of," Dominic says. "But seriously, I am fucking done with that stupid
project. I'm just gonna take a break, let the muse work its magic."
He makes
a definitive gesture with his hands, symbolically distancing himself from the
whole thing.
"You
sure that's the best idea?" Annie says, sounding sincere, and Dominic
shakes his head tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Honestly,
I don't care," he says, only half-lying. "I just need to give it a
rest, I've been working on it non-stop for three weeks and I'm getting nowhere.
I'm this close to hurting someone."
He
holds up his thumb and index finger to indicate a very tiny space, and Annie
nods understandingly.
"Alright,"
she says. "I get that."
"What
about you?" Dominic says, digging into his food with his fork and
shoveling it into his mouth. Annie shrugs.
"It's
going pretty well, actually," she says. "I ended up going with
relationships, like family and stuff. Seemed appropriate."
"Maybe
I should just do that, too," Dominic mutters, once again considering a
slew of photos of nothing but the family dog. Annie smiles.
"You'll
come up with something," she says, and she sounds so confident that
Dominic almost believes her.
♦
Dominic's heart
is thumping wildly against his ribs, and he inhales deeply in an attempt to
slow it down. His skin is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, but he's honestly
far too satisfied right now to even care.
"Jesus
Christ," he breathes, staring up at the ceiling as he lies on his back in
Killian's bed, the artist settling down next to him.
"Not
my name," Killian says, sounding about as pleasantly exhausted as Dominic
feels. "But I'll take it."
Dominic
huffs a tired laugh, closing his eyes for a moment as he comes back down from
his endorphin-induced high. He sighs contentedly, thinking how this arrangement
might be one of the best deals he has ever made.
"Fuck,
I could go for a cigarette right now," Killian mumbles, and when Dominic
doesn't respond, he nudges him.
"What?"
Dominic says, a little annoyed at the interruption of his afterglow.
"Don't
what
me," Killian says, meeting
Dominic's eye and pointing at the coffee table a few feet away from the bed.
"Get me some candy."
Dominic
indignantly raises his eyebrows at him.
"Get
it yourself," he says, but Killian is undeterred.
"My
place, my rules," he reminds him. "Also, I'd have to crawl over you,
and I'm way too fucked-out for an exercise like that, right now."
Dominic
rolls his eyes, but doesn't argue. He just heaves a heavy sigh as he gets up
and shuffles over to the coffee table to pick up the jar he has learned holds
Killian's sweets.
"I
want a red one," Killian calls out, and Dominic shakes his head to
himself.
"You'll
get what you're getting," he says flatly, without looking up, and proceeds
to take perhaps a little longer than necessary to sift through the candy stash
that consists mostly of lollipops.
"Today,
please," Killian urges him obnoxiously, and Dominic groans.
"Yeah
alright,
grumpus
," he says, picking out a blue
lollipop out of spite, before putting the jar down and heading back to the bed.
Killian is frowning.
"What
did you call me?" he says, and Dominic hands him the lollipop.
"
Grumpus
," he says, lying back down on the sweaty
sheets. It might be gross if he weren't so tired and completely sated―he
couldn't really care less right now. Meanwhile, Killian keeps frowning as he
unwraps the lollipop, and Dominic gives him a pointed look. "Come on,
you're basically a cranky old man. You could just as well spend most of your
time sitting on a porch and yelling at kids to get off your lawn."
"Damn
straight," Killian mutters, tossing the candy wrapper to the floor.
"They should stay off my fucking lawn."
He
turns away again, putting the lollipop in his mouth, and Dominic watches him
for a moment. He feels the smallest smile tug at his mouth, before quickly
making sure to wipe it off his face, and he turns his attention to a framed
poster on the wall next to the bed instead. He recognizes it as a print of a
rather unsettling painting, and he frowns.
"That's...
an interesting piece to have right next to where you sleep," he says
apprehensively, and Killian perks up. The reaction is barely noticeable, but
Dominic can tell that art is one of his soft spots, and he's glad that the
small-talk Killian has banned from their time spent together doesn't seem to
include that particular subject.
"
Dalí
, yeah," Killian says as he eyes the print, taking
the lollipop out of his mouth. He turns to Dominic. "You know him?"
Dominic
scrunches up his face in thought.
"He's
the one with the clocks, right?" he says, and the slightly outraged look
he gets from Killian is priceless. He can't help the laugh that escapes him.
"Of course I know who Salvador
Dalí
is,
asshat
. Surrealist, weirdo, impressive facial hair."
He
twirls an imaginary, long mustache for emphasis, and Killian looks equal parts
relieved and annoyed.
"You'd
better know him," he mutters. "Guy was a fucking
rockstar
."
"Oh
yeah?" Dominic asks.
"Yeah,"
Killian confirms. "He was a big deal, used to party with the greats."
He
twirls the lollipop between his fingers, glances at it as though he honestly
wishes it were a cigarette, while Dominic turns back to the artwork on the
wall. He does kind of like the piece; it's weird and unsettling, and he
probably couldn't hang it by his own bed without getting nightmares, but it is
interesting.
"A
lot of them were pretty weird, weren't they?" he says absently.
"Artists, I mean."
Killian
hums around the lollipop now secured in his mouth.
"I
guess," he says, the words muffled. He takes the candy out. "Perverts
and addicts, the lot of them. Or sick, like Van Gogh. Feel pretty bad for him,
though. He seemed like a sweet guy, great artist. Just got real unlucky when it
came to a support system."
Dominic
can tell he's trying to come off as casual and flippant as he says it, but the
sincerity is too obvious not to shine through.
"The
curse of the gifted, huh?" Dominic says, and this time, Killian actually
smiles a little. It's a borderline smirk, but it's there, and Dominic tries not
to enjoy the sight of it too much.
"What,"
Killian says, "photographers don't suffer like that?"
Dominic
hums in consideration.
"Yes,
and no," he says. "I mean, being one doesn't take much, these days.
All you need is a phone and a popular subject, doesn't really matter what
quality it has. Hell, you don't even have to take the actual picture, you just
need decent editing skills. But I'm pretty sure those with actual standards
still exist, people who actually see photography for what it is and respect it,
are willing to pay for it. 'Cause I mean, it is art. Just... not your kind of
art."
He
turns to Killian, who meets his eye. He twirls the lollipop between his
fingers, expression contemplating as he watches the brown-eyed boy in his bed,
and for a moment, Dominic half-expects him to kiss him. He doesn't. Instead, he
looks away again, humming to himself.
"I've
actually thought about painting something on here," he says, gesturing at
the white ceiling above them.
"Yeah?"
Dominic asks. "Like what?"
Killian
shrugs against the sheets.
"Not
sure," he says, eyes on the ceiling. "Maybe a
mandala
,
or something. Something big, colorful. Don't know yet."
"You
don't really strike me as the colorful type," Dominic says, half-teasing
but serious. He pointedly eyes Killian up and down, and even though he
currently isn't wearing any clothes whatsoever, he clearly gets the point
Dominic is trying to make.