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Entry tags:
backdoor man, cwrps, kane/mayhem
Title: Backdoor Man
Fandom: CWrps
Pairing: Chad Michael Murray/Christian Kane
Rating: R. PWP, but R.
Disclaimer: Not true, not true, not true. At all.
A/N: These two hang out in this peculiar little corner of my brain and every now and then they pop up with the next part of this plot-less story. Previous installments are: Take the Bitter With the Sweet and Double Trouble.
Never mind, you can tell me the next time
Chris would be lying if he said he hadn't been jerking off to that particular sentence. Or if he said his brain didn’t have a loop of the choked-off noises Murray made when he was getting fucked. Or the softer ones he made when Chris was slapping his ass red and hot.
Chris has no idea what the hell it is that they’re doing, and he's pretty damn sure Chad's clueless, too, but there’s no question that he'll look up some day and see those sarcastic blue eyes watching his every move. Or that he’ll be taking Chad up on the offer.
He just doesn’t expect it to happen in the middle of a no-name dive outside of Vancouver, with Steve and Jensen on stage with him and Jared out on the floor somewhere, charming the panties off every chick who crosses his path. Chad belongs in LA with designer clothes and PR flacks, not leaning back against a bar with a longneck of Bud and tan that owes nothing to a salon.
Chris manages not to miss a beat in the song, but he sees the way Chad’s smile curves into something a lot closer to his normal, self-satisfied smirk, the one that says anytime, anywhere. On the changeover between songs, Chris nods for Steve to handle the talking while he swaps out strings on his guitar and, not so incidentally, lets his eyes sweep over the worn and faded t-shirt and jeans Chad’s found somewhere. He’s got a smirk of his own when Chad catches him and clearly loses track of whatever bullshit he’s spinning for the pretty little thing who’s all but spreading her legs right there for him.
They’ve got three songs to finish out the set; Chris enjoys every single one of them, trading off lines with Steve and Jensen, passing the Jack back and forth between the three of them, everything hot and sweaty and damn near perfect. There are a million reasons why he loves Steve, not the least of which is his amazing ability to find the good weed no matter where he might be, but number one on the list is how fucking right it feels to stand next to the man and hit all the harmonies.
As soon as they step down from the tiny raised platform that counts as a stage, Chris snags a joint from the Ziploc in Steve’s guitar case and heads toward the alley. Steve yells something about owing him bigtime, but Chris just waves and keeps going. Steve’ll figure that he’s got a line on a girl and give him shit, and that’s not too far off from the truth. Close enough, Chris thinks.
It’s cool outside and it’s less an alley than the back of the parking lot, so it’s easy enough to get away from the trash bins. Chris leans back against the wall and lights up and just like he knew it would happen, Chad’s there before he’s taken his second hit.
"You’re a long way from home," Chris says.
"Jared’s bored." Chad shrugs. "It was either bring my dogs to play with his, or end up getting forty calls before lunch." Chris nods, because that’s basically the reason they're here, too. Jenny spoils that kid rotten, and one of these days, Chris is going to just flat-out tell him to nail Jared and put them all out of their misery, but whatever, it's not like he and Steve care where they are. They can write here as well as anywhere. He takes another hit and Chad steps close, heat and want right on top of Chris even though they're not touching.
"Shotgun?" Chad says, not asking at all, his voice low and hoarse. The smoke burns sweet-hot in Chris's lungs but that's nothing on the way his blood sparks when Chad presses up against him, long, lean muscle under the soft cotton, tongue slipping out along his bottom lip. Chris holds off for a second, just to feel Chad shifting restlessly against him, then brings his free hand up to hold Chad steady and exhales in a slow, even rush. Chad breathes with him, takes everything Chris gives him, eyes wide and blue even in the dim light. He shudders when Chris finishes off with a quick, sharp bite on the curve of his jaw, but his hands settle low on Chris's hips as he lets the smoke trickle out.
The building at Chris's back blocks most of the noise from the street out front; it's quiet enough that Chris can hear the rasp of denim on denim as Chad rocks his hips into Chris's and the rough edge to his breath. It's a start--the panting. Chris wants more, though, wants to be somewhere quiet and alone, so he can hear all those sounds Chad makes, take his time and find out if there are more. Chad's breath deepens, like he knows what Chris was thinking, and hell, Chris thinks, maybe he did. It's not like Chris is hiding anything right this second.
"Again," Chris says, and Chad nods once. Chris tightens his fingers in Chad's hair, pulling him back enough to get the joint up to his mouth and it plays out just like the first time, slow and hot, except this time, Chris works one leg up between Chad's and Chad's riding him, grinding his dick into the top of Chris's thigh, breath catching on a hoarse, rasping moan when he exhales. He holds Chris's eyes the whole time, no smirk, no sneer, only an open, driving need that twists Chris up hard, no matter how much he wants to pretend it doesn't.
There's just enough left of the joint--and Chris has just enough time--to do it once more, Chad shaking and panting against him, Chris's own dick aching hard against the zipper of his jeans. They could fuck right here; Chad wouldn't do anything but spread his legs if Chris told him to, but Chris has had that already, balls-deep in Chad up against a wall. Any other night, he'd settle for it, but maybe it's the weed, or maybe it's just time for more. He pulls Chad's head back, bites his way down the throat Chad's baring for him and finishes off with one hard and nasty enough to leave a bruise on his collarbone, right as the door bangs open and Jensen yells, "Kane! Get your ass back in here."
He and Jen go back far enough that he knows Jensen's not looking--not that he wouldn't, just that Chris is pretty damn sure Jensen's not in the mood to deal with whatever shit Chris's getting up to tonight. He keeps his hand tight in Chad's hair, makes him stay still.
"Two minutes, Jenny. Don't get your panties in a twist."
Jensen snorts, but the door slams shut.
"Two minutes?" Chad smirks. "That's all it's gonna take?"
Chris smiles and spins them, puts Chad's back against the wall, then leans all his weight in and watches the blue eyes blow dark. "That depends." He rubs his thumb over the bite marks he's just put on Chad's throat and smiles bigger when Chad chokes back a noise, the vibrations soft and sure against his thumb. "We've got one more set, so it's your call. You can go find whatever passes for a bathroom in this dump and get yourself off nice and quick, go back to the house and fuck whoever you bring home with you."
"Or?" Chad whispers.
Chris fits his hand to the curve of Chad's throat, rocks it back and forth and presses against the pulse beating there. "Or you can sit your ass out on the floor while I finish up, wait 'til I'm ready, and then you can show me how you look on your hands and knees, begging for it." He pushes a little bit harder against Chad's throat, makes him work for every breath. "You do it good enough, I might let you come."
Chris drops his hand and walks away, ten easy steps to the door and right up on stage, Steve smacking the back of his head and pointing him to his guitar. He steals a shot from the bottle Jensen's holding and grins when Jensen rolls his eyes.
They're two verses into their first song when he sees Chad slide onto a bar stool to wait for him.
***
***
Fandom: CWrps
Pairing: Chad Michael Murray/Christian Kane
Rating: R. PWP, but R.
Disclaimer: Not true, not true, not true. At all.
A/N: These two hang out in this peculiar little corner of my brain and every now and then they pop up with the next part of this plot-less story. Previous installments are: Take the Bitter With the Sweet and Double Trouble.
Never mind, you can tell me the next time
Chris would be lying if he said he hadn't been jerking off to that particular sentence. Or if he said his brain didn’t have a loop of the choked-off noises Murray made when he was getting fucked. Or the softer ones he made when Chris was slapping his ass red and hot.
Chris has no idea what the hell it is that they’re doing, and he's pretty damn sure Chad's clueless, too, but there’s no question that he'll look up some day and see those sarcastic blue eyes watching his every move. Or that he’ll be taking Chad up on the offer.
He just doesn’t expect it to happen in the middle of a no-name dive outside of Vancouver, with Steve and Jensen on stage with him and Jared out on the floor somewhere, charming the panties off every chick who crosses his path. Chad belongs in LA with designer clothes and PR flacks, not leaning back against a bar with a longneck of Bud and tan that owes nothing to a salon.
Chris manages not to miss a beat in the song, but he sees the way Chad’s smile curves into something a lot closer to his normal, self-satisfied smirk, the one that says anytime, anywhere. On the changeover between songs, Chris nods for Steve to handle the talking while he swaps out strings on his guitar and, not so incidentally, lets his eyes sweep over the worn and faded t-shirt and jeans Chad’s found somewhere. He’s got a smirk of his own when Chad catches him and clearly loses track of whatever bullshit he’s spinning for the pretty little thing who’s all but spreading her legs right there for him.
They’ve got three songs to finish out the set; Chris enjoys every single one of them, trading off lines with Steve and Jensen, passing the Jack back and forth between the three of them, everything hot and sweaty and damn near perfect. There are a million reasons why he loves Steve, not the least of which is his amazing ability to find the good weed no matter where he might be, but number one on the list is how fucking right it feels to stand next to the man and hit all the harmonies.
As soon as they step down from the tiny raised platform that counts as a stage, Chris snags a joint from the Ziploc in Steve’s guitar case and heads toward the alley. Steve yells something about owing him bigtime, but Chris just waves and keeps going. Steve’ll figure that he’s got a line on a girl and give him shit, and that’s not too far off from the truth. Close enough, Chris thinks.
It’s cool outside and it’s less an alley than the back of the parking lot, so it’s easy enough to get away from the trash bins. Chris leans back against the wall and lights up and just like he knew it would happen, Chad’s there before he’s taken his second hit.
"You’re a long way from home," Chris says.
"Jared’s bored." Chad shrugs. "It was either bring my dogs to play with his, or end up getting forty calls before lunch." Chris nods, because that’s basically the reason they're here, too. Jenny spoils that kid rotten, and one of these days, Chris is going to just flat-out tell him to nail Jared and put them all out of their misery, but whatever, it's not like he and Steve care where they are. They can write here as well as anywhere. He takes another hit and Chad steps close, heat and want right on top of Chris even though they're not touching.
"Shotgun?" Chad says, not asking at all, his voice low and hoarse. The smoke burns sweet-hot in Chris's lungs but that's nothing on the way his blood sparks when Chad presses up against him, long, lean muscle under the soft cotton, tongue slipping out along his bottom lip. Chris holds off for a second, just to feel Chad shifting restlessly against him, then brings his free hand up to hold Chad steady and exhales in a slow, even rush. Chad breathes with him, takes everything Chris gives him, eyes wide and blue even in the dim light. He shudders when Chris finishes off with a quick, sharp bite on the curve of his jaw, but his hands settle low on Chris's hips as he lets the smoke trickle out.
The building at Chris's back blocks most of the noise from the street out front; it's quiet enough that Chris can hear the rasp of denim on denim as Chad rocks his hips into Chris's and the rough edge to his breath. It's a start--the panting. Chris wants more, though, wants to be somewhere quiet and alone, so he can hear all those sounds Chad makes, take his time and find out if there are more. Chad's breath deepens, like he knows what Chris was thinking, and hell, Chris thinks, maybe he did. It's not like Chris is hiding anything right this second.
"Again," Chris says, and Chad nods once. Chris tightens his fingers in Chad's hair, pulling him back enough to get the joint up to his mouth and it plays out just like the first time, slow and hot, except this time, Chris works one leg up between Chad's and Chad's riding him, grinding his dick into the top of Chris's thigh, breath catching on a hoarse, rasping moan when he exhales. He holds Chris's eyes the whole time, no smirk, no sneer, only an open, driving need that twists Chris up hard, no matter how much he wants to pretend it doesn't.
There's just enough left of the joint--and Chris has just enough time--to do it once more, Chad shaking and panting against him, Chris's own dick aching hard against the zipper of his jeans. They could fuck right here; Chad wouldn't do anything but spread his legs if Chris told him to, but Chris has had that already, balls-deep in Chad up against a wall. Any other night, he'd settle for it, but maybe it's the weed, or maybe it's just time for more. He pulls Chad's head back, bites his way down the throat Chad's baring for him and finishes off with one hard and nasty enough to leave a bruise on his collarbone, right as the door bangs open and Jensen yells, "Kane! Get your ass back in here."
He and Jen go back far enough that he knows Jensen's not looking--not that he wouldn't, just that Chris is pretty damn sure Jensen's not in the mood to deal with whatever shit Chris's getting up to tonight. He keeps his hand tight in Chad's hair, makes him stay still.
"Two minutes, Jenny. Don't get your panties in a twist."
Jensen snorts, but the door slams shut.
"Two minutes?" Chad smirks. "That's all it's gonna take?"
Chris smiles and spins them, puts Chad's back against the wall, then leans all his weight in and watches the blue eyes blow dark. "That depends." He rubs his thumb over the bite marks he's just put on Chad's throat and smiles bigger when Chad chokes back a noise, the vibrations soft and sure against his thumb. "We've got one more set, so it's your call. You can go find whatever passes for a bathroom in this dump and get yourself off nice and quick, go back to the house and fuck whoever you bring home with you."
"Or?" Chad whispers.
Chris fits his hand to the curve of Chad's throat, rocks it back and forth and presses against the pulse beating there. "Or you can sit your ass out on the floor while I finish up, wait 'til I'm ready, and then you can show me how you look on your hands and knees, begging for it." He pushes a little bit harder against Chad's throat, makes him work for every breath. "You do it good enough, I might let you come."
Chris drops his hand and walks away, ten easy steps to the door and right up on stage, Steve smacking the back of his head and pointing him to his guitar. He steals a shot from the bottle Jensen's holding and grins when Jensen rolls his eyes.
They're two verses into their first song when he sees Chad slide onto a bar stool to wait for him.
***
***
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I likey. I like a lot. I'm all hot and flushed here at work!
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How are they so hot? HOW???!!!
You are made of awesome, m'dear.
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dear god this is awesome - I for one am always thrilled when you bring these two out and share their playing ^_^ Thankyou!
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Don't leave us hanging....
Re: Don't leave us hanging....
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WOMAN, i love you.
I've missed you and this filthy fucking pairing ;D
It's HOT :D
*licks lips*
MORE
SOOON
I'll give you ANYTHING you want....*winks*
Will mem the HOT :D
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I'll do anything *giggles* :D
Offer Still Stands....*winks*
GOD, i'm easy :D
HA HA HA HA HA :D
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More pleeease?
I love your writing. It's so smooth and fluent. Makes it so awesome to read.
♥
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I do believe this little series gets hotter everytime you post something; while I didn't think that was possible, you managed it. ;)
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Want more!!! Love this pairing!! AWESOME
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This pairing works for me in so many ways, and I love your Christian in these. I read 'em a few hours ago, but I was a little too incoherent to comment then, and now I'm off to read them again!
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