Continuation of the RPS smut. Or, when is she going to shut up about the elevator sex and just fucking show us?
Another Not for Profit Venture by Snow
Not Real People. This has never happened.
Except in my brain.
David Boreanaz/Christian Kane
They woke late in the afternoon, the sun sinking to meet the horizon, but still burning incredibly bright. David could feel Nevada’s amazing summer heat warm him as he stood in front of the sliding glass doors that led to a tiny balcony over looking the strip. Chris was in the shower and would probably use up all the rest of the clean towels just drying his hair. David had thrown all the now empty bottles of beer he’d drunk the previous evening into the tiny plastic trashcan, emptied the ashtrays and now he waited. A cigarette in hand, wishing desperately for a cup of coffee.
This would be the last time he stayed in a hotel without a coffee maker in the room. He’d called down for room service an hour and a half ago, requested a carafe of coffee and two cups. Didn’t expect it to be delivered before Chris was ready to go out.
He was heading to the U.K. in three days. Filming a movie he didn’t have much hope in, but at least it was something to do. He had to work. Didn’t matter on what. Hoped that someday, something he did would catch on. Become part of the public conscience. He’d had that for a time with Buffy, then with Angel, but only to a limited audience. People who could see past the vampire, science fiction angle to the heart of the story, the sway of the characters. And then he’d turned down a major movie role for the fifth season, only to have the network fuck him sideways half way through it.
David shook his head. This was not why he was here. Not now. Not this weekend. This was his time with Chris. Stolen time. Reality was not wanted, allowed, nor needed. Who knew when they’d get another chance to be alone like this? When both of them could just disappear for a couple days? He was not inclined to spoil it by stressing about his career and choices he’d already made. His cell phone was turned off and left in the pocket of his travel bag. No one knew where he was, or how to contact him. For this weekend, these short two days and two nights he was just a man on vacation. Not a husband. Not a father. Not an actor. Not under contract or at the beck and call of anyone.
The bathroom door opened and Chris stumbled out, naked, throwing wet towels on the floor, his hair dripping wet and tangled.
“The fucking fan doesn’t even work. Jesus. Next time, no matter who calls. I make the reservations. I don’t fucking care if your legions of fans set up booths and sell soundtracks of me fucking you through the floor outside the Goddamn doors.”
David laughed. “Christ. You’re such a pussy lately. Hurry the fuck up. I need some coffee and booze and a really rare steak.”
He took the last drag off his cigarette and crushed it out in the ashtray.
They stood together in front of the bank of elevators, waiting. Chris pushed the down button again. “Fuck me to tears. I know they come up this fucking far. Brought me here last night.”
David laughed, rocking back on the heels of his boots, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his worn jeans. “Kiss your Momma with that mouth, Kane?”
Chris turned to David, with that look on his face. The one that had made David approach him the first time, six years ago. One eyebrow arched up, his tongue sneaking out to pull in his thick, soft bottom lip, white teeth biting down on it. A sly, shit-eating grin that just dared David to kiss him.
“No, but I can make you forget your name when I wrap it around your dick, Dave.”
David turned and leaned against the wall, between two of the four elevator doors. Unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his half-hard cock and started stroking himself.
“Prove it. No time like the present.”
This time it was Chris’ turn to laugh and glance furtively left and right down empty hallways. “You are doing crack, right? Here? Now?”
David shrugged, his large shoulders rolling underneath his T-shirt. “Just like I thought. All talk and no action.”
The soft chime announced the arrival of an elevator and Chris pushed David into the small, garishly decorated space. Vomit inducing orange and red carpet, faux red velvet and paneling on the walls, mirrors on the ceiling. Chris was thanking whatever deity had seen fit to make sure the elevator came up empty of other people as he sank to his knees. One hand holding David’s shirt up and out of the way, his thumb rubbing the smooth skin of David’s abdomen and the other gripping the base of David’s cock.
“Might want to hold that door,” Chris mumbled as he pulled David into his mouth, the sharp, salty taste of David’s clean flesh, faint smell of shampoo and musk and the heat he found there overwhelming him.
A quick, in-drawn gasp and David barely remembered to find the ‘door open’ button, push hard on it with his fingers as he sagged against the wall. The corner of a poster advertising some show in the theater on some probably impossible to find floor of the hotel digging into his back. David looked up, watched their reflection through half-open eyes. Chris moved back and forth, his cock disappearing in between those lips, David tangled his free hand in Chris’ thick hair, a groan escaping him when Chris scraped teeth against tender skin, increased the suction and took him all the way inside. Burying his nose in the soft, curly brown hair that surrounded David’s cock.
Chris kept up the pressure until he felt David’s thighs begin to shake. He gently let David’s wet cock slide out of his mouth and looked up to see those big, brown eyes watching him through thick eyelashes, David’s chin pointing straight down.
“Now tell me, what was it you said about my mouth?”
David smirked and moved his hand off the button that was holding the doors open, joining it with his other on Chris’ head. “I said I think you’d better get busy, because we’re going down now.”
“Fucker,” Chris whispered and latched his mouth back onto David’s dick, starting right where he’d left off. No time for playing now, but hazy ideas of retribution drifted through his brain as he felt David shudder and his fingers tangle and pull his hair as David came, filling Chris’ mouth and throat and Chris heard him groan.
Chris stood up. Leaving David’s softening cock with one last, hard bite. Just to hear him make that sound again. Chris laughed as David was hastily tucking and buttoning when the elevator doors opened in the main lobby and an old couple pushed their way in before David and Chris could get out.
They’d walked the strip, cruised the casinos, ate steak and lobster and picked up drinks at every bar they had passed. Danced with the wait staff at Coyote Ugly, followed showgirls through the Mirage and wandered through the Venetian aimlessly.
Finally they ended up back at the Imperial Palace and sat down at a black jack table. Chris was winning steadily and David losing just as fast. David ordered another whiskey neat from a passing waitress and leaned over to Chris. “Let’s just lose it all. Everything. Go live in some nameless town in Montana or Vancouver. Change our names and buy a cabin and take hunters up in the mountains for a living.”
Chris leaned back in his chair and pushed at the hair that was falling in his face. “I really think you need more to drink buddy. You’re just this side of breaking my heart.”
David laughed and they played another hand.
Hours later and after much searching through the maze of a casino, they found the correct bank of elevators that would take them up to their floor. Chris pushed the up button and they waited, David leaning against the wall.
Chris was feeling a nice, warm buzz from all the alcohol they’d consumed, but he could tell from David’s glazed stare and loose stance that he was well into inebriation. “Not going to puke on me, are you?”
David grinned and his eyes never left Chris’ face. “No. Think I am going to fuck you into next week, though.”
The doors of one elevator finally opened and Chris followed David into the small space, laughing. Last nights together were always bittersweet and painful. Each of them trying to find that moment when they’d finally touched each other enough. They always left bruises and scratches, anything that would leave their mark on the other. Something to remember as real life forced them apart in so many different ways.
David pulled Chris into his arms as soon as the doors slid shut, kissing him, tasting whiskey and cigarettes. Then the salty sweat from walking in the Nevada heat as his lips moved to Chris’ neck. Chris molded his body to David’s and pulled him in tighter. There were never any words of endearment between them, never whispered promises of the next time. It was all left unspoken in the touches, the roaming hands, searching fingers and endless kisses, desperate bites and soothing licks.
David ripped open the button fly on Chris’ jeans, pulled his cock out and wrapped his fingers around it. “Ever been fucked in an elevator?” David asked and reached over to hit the red ‘stop’ button just before they reached their floor.
Chris shook his head, unable to keep the grin off his face. “No. Can’t say as I have.”
David moved back to him, bounced. His large frame made the now motionless elevator shake. Chris couldn’t help himself from grabbing for the handrail behind him.
“In normal places, you have about five or ten minutes before someone realizes that the elevator is out of commission.” David crossed the small space as he spoke and started unbuttoning his own jeans. “In this hotel? I’d say we have a good hour.”
Chris kept his hands on the rails as David leaned down to kiss him again. Chris felt David hands pull on the neck of his T-shirt, heard the material rip as it was torn and pulled aside to make way for Dave’s mouth as it trailed along Chris’ now bare shoulder. David’s hand back on Chris’ cock, pumping him, making him harder. He turned Chris to face the wall and pushed his pants down to his ankles, leaving a trail of hot, open mouth kisses up his spine. Chris looked up into the mirrors above them and watched David lube his cock; coat his palm and fingers with the slick, colorless fluid. Smiling at the thought that David had apparently had this in mind all night, since he had brought along the lubricant. Then his eyes closed as David pushed up against his back and he felt David’s hard, wet cock rub against him. David’s hand reaching around to hold his own aching dick again and his dry lips were against his neck and his ragged breath by his ear.
David’s hand worked him relentlessly, fingers rolling, pulling back and forth from top to bottom and when they were in this position, Chris liked to imagine that he was feeling how David would jerk himself off when Chris wasn’t around. Knowing just how to touch himself, just what pressure to use to make it last, draw it out, make it count. Chris waited, letting the waves and the heat build inside him, knowing that David wouldn’t enter without an invitation, without the right words. Finally he arched his back and turned his head, tried to see the man behind him.
“You gonna fuck me or what?”
“Like a freight train.” David’s hand stopped moving for just an instant, just enough time to position himself and slowly, slowly push his cock into Chris. He kept his fingers moving, letting Chris ease against him, let his body adjust until David was deep inside and Chris was moaning, low pitched words and growls, sweat coating his back and slicking David’s chest.
“God, Dave. Just fuck me already. Do it . . . shit. Feels so good.” He felt David draw out, then push back in, filling him again, a little faster this time, a little harder and David’s hand moving in time with his thrusts bringing Chris up to the edge faster than he thought possible. Chris’ thighs trembled as he stood, his legs braced, his grip tight on the handrail, head down, hair hanging in his face, sweat dripping from his chin and his cheeks. He bit his bottom lip hard between his teeth. The elevator swayed on its chains, bounced with them as they moved together in the small, hot space. The air becoming charged with the scent of them, the perspiration and sex and the humid heat of their gasping, groaning, wordless exhalations.
David felt Chris’ muscles tighten, felt him rise up on the balls of his feet as the orgasm hit him and pulled Chris hard against him. Then David let his own tear through his body as he filled Chris and covered the head of Chris’ dick at the same time. He tried to keep the burn of the fluid in his fingers and palm as he pumped Chris and released in him, shuddering. Once again, grateful that Chris was strong enough to support his weight as David leaned onto his back, helpless on this ride.
They both heard a phone ringing as they came down from their personal nirvana. David laughed and motioned to the emergency phone that was hidden behind a small door beside the numbered floor buttons.
“Well, I was only about fifteen minutes off.”
“You gonna answer that?” Chris asked as he pulled up his pants, arms shaking from strained muscles.
“Fuck no.” David hit the ‘stop’ button again and the elevator lurched back into motion. The doors opening as they reached their floor.
Chris glanced at his watch as they walked to the room. Only three hours left until he had to catch his plane back to New York. He grinned, looking down at the remains of the torn T-shirt that he held in his hand.
Just enough time to make that man pay for ruining one of his favorite shirts.
Hope it is as fun for you all to read as it was for me to write.