the Edge is Wayne Gretzky, your argument's invalid (katrin) wrote in slashababy,
the Edge is Wayne Gretzky, your argument's invalid
katrin
slashababy

Title: Please
Author: Katrin
Pairing: Karl/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The people are real, but this never happened.
Notes: Gayle asked for Karl/Harry smut. And thus I provided. Happy Christmas/Hanukkah/Solstice/Kwanzaa!



Karl wasn’t drunk; not even tipsy, really. He’d just had enough to feel a buzz, a touch of fuzziness. Part of him regretted that. He couldn’t blame this on drink - not to himself, at least. He wondered what he could use as an excuse then - loneliness, curiosity? Both true and not at the same time. Karl didn’t really know why he was here. He wasn’t sure he wanted an excuse, anyway.

The hotel room was small, dominated by the bed. Of course. It was large and draped in a wine-coloured duvet, dramatic against the ivory and blond wood of the room. Its size, its presence was intimidating as hell. Karl had a brief flashback to the cramped backseat of the car where he’d had his first, fumbling encounter with a girl. Nothing wrong with a bed.

“Hey,” came a voice from behind him, followed by a hand on his shoulder. “You all right there?”

“Yeah,” Karl said, turning around.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, you know.”

“What do I look like, a teenage girl?”

A low laugh, a gleam in inscrutable dark eyes. “No,” Harry said. “You don’t look a thing like a teenage girl.”

“Damn right,” Karl said. This had been his idea, after all. He might have been nervous -- he *was* nervous -- but he didn’t want to back out, didn’t want to be anywhere but here. He leaned in and pressed his lips against Harry’s.

Was this always what it felt like to kiss another man, Karl wondered. Or was this just Harry? The kiss was harder, deeper than any other kiss Karl could think of - though, granted, thinking wasn’t high on his list of priorities right then. He was far more concerned with the heat of Harry’s tongue, the scrape of Harry’s teeth. He was far more concerned with trying to keep up with a kiss that was threatening to pull him under.

Harry pulled away, his hands resting tantalizingly on Karl’s ass, the heat of them blazing through Karl‘s jeans. “You sure you’re okay?” he murmured.

“Shut up already,” Karl murmured back, then kissed him again.

Karl couldn’t help but go under this time. It was too much - too much heat, too much pleasure, too much everything. He groaned, then stepped backwards and pulled Harry onto the bed with him. Harry’s firm, solid weight pinning him to the bed was surprisingly erotic. His hands had started to unbutton Harry’s shirt before he realized what he was doing.

Harry returned the favour, and the mere brush of his callused fingers against Karl’s chest had Karl shivering. Harry was so hot, so rough, so talented. Karl felt light-headed, overly sensitized from the soft touch. It was too much, too fast, and Karl thought he might die if it stopped.

When Harry had Karl’s shirt open, he made a satisfied sound in his throat, then left Karl’s mouth to lick and suck at Karl’s nipple. Karl bucked up, pressed his groin into Harry’s. It felt like Harry was as hard as Karl was. Fuck. Yes.

“Please,” Karl hissed, his fingernails digging into Harry’s shoulders as Harry’s tongue swiped across his chest. “More.”

Harry lifted his head. Karl didn’t know a grin could be so sexy. “What do you want?” he asked, softly.

“Everything,” Karl whispered. He closed his eyes when Harry’s hands flicked open the button of his jeans.

His eyelids stayed firmly shut when he felt denim slide down his legs, followed by the soft cotton of his boxers. They opened when he felt Harry’s breath against his thighs, then fluttered when he felt Harry’s breath against his dick. Anticipation had nothing on reality.

“Mmmm,” Harry said, giving Karl’s shaft a slow lick. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this? How long I’ve thought about what you’d look like, what you’d taste like?”

“No… shit.” Karl may not have had much to drink, but he couldn’t remember ever having felt more drunk.

Harry cupped Karl’s balls in one capable hand. “I’ve had so many prurient fantasies about you,” he said, voice sounding like velvet. “I’ve wanted this forever…” His mouth closed over Karl’s cock.

And Karl had thought kissing Harry was hot. His hands clutched at Harry’s hair, pulling him even closer. Harry didn’t appear to mind; just kept sucking and swallowing and doing whatever the fuck that was that was bringing Karl to the edge unbelievably fucking fast. If he hadn’t been lying down, he would have collapsed, he was sure of it.

“Christ,” Karl said, “Harry.” His fingers flexed, pulled Harry even closer as his balls tightened. Harry moved faster, his cheeks hollowing, his hand moving backwards to sweep over Karl’s entrance. One finger slid through the tight ring, and Karl came in Harry’s mouth with a strangled cry. He felt like he was flying, like he was being buried, like he was going to die.

However many moments later, when Karl was all sweaty and languid, and his thoughts were coherent again, Harry was lying stretched out beside him, naked, a small smile on his face. Karl figured the smile on his own face was wider, and didn‘t care. “Wow,” he breathed.

“Yeah?” Harry asked.

“Wow,” Karl said again. “You’re really good at that.”

“I’m really good at a lot of things,” Harry said slowly. His eyes were gleaming, dark and hot.

Karl’s dick twitched. “Yeah?” he asked.

Harry nodded. “I’ll show you.”
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