ceria (ceria) wrote in king_prewett, @ 2007-08-15 15:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | kg_vignette |
Title: Orange Squeeze
Authors: lee_west and ceria
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Gideon/Kingsley
Summary: Gideon and Kingsley have admitted they're in love, but aren't quite sure how to react to it yet.
Disclaimer: Don't you get it yet? They belong to JKR. We don't own their universe and we don't make any money off them. The only thing we do is subvert them to feed our twisted sense of interests.
A/N: Written for the AWDT prompts, "What are you doing with those oranges?" and "I can't be associated with that."
Warning: This is pretty much a PWP with foodsmut.
The index of stories
"What are you doing with those oranges?" Gideon asked.
"Making orange juice for your breakfast, Prewett. I'm your French maid, remember?"
"I don't want a French maid." Gideon said, "I can't be associated with that! But I wouldn't mind anything French if it involves you. Thank you for last night; I know you didn't like it."
"French kiss?" Kingsley finally smiled at Gideon. "And don't mention last night any more. It's over and won't happen again, right?"
"Hmmm," Gideon held his hands out in front of him, as if a balance, "French kisses or orange juice. I'm not sure which I prefer."
At Kingsley's glare, Gideon laughed and took a couple steps forward to close any distance between them. Wrapping his arms around Kingsley's shoulders, he said, "Kisses. Always."
Kingsley pushed Gideon away slightly, took a swig of the orange juice he'd just squeezed and kissed Gideon fully, squirting the juice inside his mouth. "There. Now you can have both."
"Orange flavored Kingsley," Gideon said once he could speak, "My favorite."
Gideon ran one hand across Kingsley's chin. "No more, if that is your wish. I'm sorry if it upset you."
Kingsley leant onto the touch. "Next time you can meet him for coffee somewhere else. He doesn't enjoy being with me. But he's your brother and you two can bond. I just don't want to have to cook for him and spend dinner listening to his snide remarks about me. I have plenty of him already at work."
"He needs to get over it. I think he's still afraid you're going to hurt me. I don't understand why." Gideon picked up Kingsley's glass and drank some of it, then licked his lips. "So what do French maids do in their off hours? Want to go back to bed and do me?"
Smirking, Kingsley answered, "They do whatever their master orders. Will do you gladly." He leant forward and licked Gideon's lips, too. "Back to bed. You lead the way."
"Master, is it?" With a vivid image of Kingsley agreeing to whatever Gideon wanted to do, he whimpered.
"Kingsley, you make my brain work overtime when it's my cock that should be."
"Oh, we can't have that. The cock should always work harder. And yes, Master it is. What do you fancy?"
Gideon had the sudden vision of himself turning into a violin and Kingsley playing him. They'd never have a serious conversation if he stopped thinking every time Kingsley said things like that.
Gideon thought about it for a second; he'd taken a shower that morning before finding Kingsley in the kitchen.
"Rimming." He knew he didn't need to say another word.
"All right," said Kingsley. "Your wishes are my command, sir." He surreptitiously Accio'ed the jug of orange juice. Prewett's Arse a l'Orange. Not bad for breakfast.
Grinning, Gideon walked backwards to the bedroom, pulling Kingsley by one hand. "I want to feel your tongue in me," he said as they reached the bed. Gideon set the orange juice down and put Kingsley's hands on his hips.
Kingsley pulled Gideon closer to his body and kissed him deeply, his hands caressing Gideon's hips and moving slowly towards his buttocks.
He put his hands inside the waistband of Gideon's loose trousers, slowly pulled them down and looked at Gideon lying naked on the bed. "I bet you taste even better with orange flavor."
"Can't get enough of you sometimes," Gideon mumbled against his lips. He pulled Kingsley's shirt over his head, running his hands down Kingsley's chest. Inserting a finger inside the front of his jeans, Gideon pulled him onto the bed.
How long now? How many times had they done this? Did it ever get old? Here he was, typically bored with any one person, after a month and yet each time Kingsley touched him it felt new. Was this normal to feel his breath catch each time?
Gideon didn't know, and had no one to ask. Instead he undid Kingsley's jeans and pushed them out of the way, wanting to touch bare skin.
Kingsley lifted his body slightly to take his jeans off completely, and this gave the opportunity to do one of the things he liked best: ogling Gideon's naked body unabashedly. "You're gorgeous," he murmured, right before leaning down and kissing him again.
Biting his tongue, Gideon held back the words he wanted to say. Amazing how their bodies were not awkward yet his mind was. Kisses melted him and hands warmed him; he continually felt different beneath Kingsley.
Wrapping his arms around Kingsley, Gideon returned the kiss, spreading his legs to let Kingsley's body slide between them, rubbing against his cock suggestively.
Kingsley groped blindly for the orange juice, found it and, lifting his body off Gideon again, poured a trickle down his chest and abdomen and proceeded to lick it off slowly.
The juice was cold, followed by Kingsley's warm tongue. All Gideon could inanely think was that this was the way to break someone, alternating between cold and hot, ruining any chance to think coherently while under such attack. His senses were exploding and Gideon moaned softly, hands gripping Kingsley's shoulders.
The moan did it – it was such a rare occurrence that whenever Gideon made any sound, Kingsley lost it. He wanted to fuck Gideon badly right then, but he hadn't forgotten what he'd promised. Maybe he could elicit a few more noises? He finished licking the orange juice from Gideon's abdomen and poured some more on Gideon's cock and balls.
Whimpering with the sharp, sudden cold - he didn't expect Kingsley to do that - Gideon took a loud, ragged breath. He let go of Kingsley as he moved and squeezed the sheets in his fists instead. Gideon could feel droplets of cold juice everywhere, drips being chased by Kingsley's tongue. Promptly forgetting what he had asked for to begin with, Gideon whimpered again, cock twitching. He wanted Kingsley inside him.
"Hmmm…this is what an orange popsicle tastes like," Kingsley whispered, sucking and licking the orange juice off Gideon's cock. When he was done, he moved to Gideon's balls and refrained from making a comment about orange jujubes; Gideon was whimpering and writhing, just the way he liked it, and he didn't want to break the mood.
He grabbed Gideon's legs and flexed them at the knees, pushing them as far back as he could against Gideon's body. He poured the last of the orange juice on Gideon's arse and bent down to lick it.
Trembling uncontrollably, Gideon pushed his hips off the bed to meet Kingsley's mouth. Everything - his body, the sheets - was wet by then from the juice, but he didn't care. With the smell of oranges pervading the room, he lost control as Kingsley finally did what he asked for.
"Kingsley, please," he said.
Yeah! Begging! Kingsley thought mischievously. "Please what, Gideon?" he said softly between licks, "What do you want me to do?"
Kingsley burying his tongue again made Gideon groan. He'd just asked for something, (somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a snide voice say begged for it more than asked) but he couldn’t remember what he asked for.
"Kingsley," he said again - that time Gideon could hear the tremor in his voice.
This was better than he had expected. Kingsley decided to definitely try it again another time. He was aching to fuck Gideon, but he was enjoying seeing Gideon's reaction so much that he tried to control his own urges. He blew softly into Gideon's arse, knowing that it would create a cold sensation. "Yeah, Gideon?" he whispered. "What? What do you want me to do?"
"Don't know…" Gideon had no idea what he wanted, except that he didn't want Kingsley to stop. He was opening and closing his hands on the bed, scrunching the sheets beneath him. He finally let go with one hand, wrapping his hand around Kingsley's hand, squeezing it. "Please. I need more," he said somewhat coherently. Gideon knew he was mumbling other things under his breath, but had no idea what.
"More? More what? More orange juice? I don't think there's any left," Kingsley said, still licking Gideon sensuously.
Taking a deep breath, Gideon tried to focus long enough to make sense.
"Kingsley, please, I need you inside me." He wasn't afraid to admit it any longer. A month or two ago, Gideon would not have said the words.
Kingsley closed his eye and gave out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold off for much longer and, for the first time, he was the one exercising some control. He was enjoying it but it was time to end it. He quickly Summoned the lube and, coating himself a little haphazardly, he entered Gideon.
That felt really good. No matter how often they had sex, it always felt as if it was the first time.
He propped himself up on his elbows as Kingsley pushed inside him. Legs wrapped around Kingsley's thighs, Gideon reached forward, stretching his neck and kissed Kingsley frantically, wanting more contact. It was an uncomfortable position, but he didn't care.
Finally moving his elbows, Gideon dropped back to the bed. He stuck one hand between them to grab his own cock, fingers sliding back and forth, knuckles touching Kingsley's belly.
Bending down to kiss Gideon again, Kingsley asked against his mouth, "Do you want me to do it? Do you want me to wank you?" He could hold on to Gideon's hip with only one hand.
Nodding, Gideon put his hands on Kingsley's torso, spreading fingers across his chest. He slid them to the side, thumbs rubbing back and forth against his nipples until Kingsley leaned away again, balancing himself on his knees. As Kingsley wrapped one hand around Gideon's cock, Gideon set his hand on Kingsley's wrist. He didn't mean to impede Kingsley's movements at all, but Gideon found himself just wanting to touch him.
Still hesitant to admit he was in love, Gideon constantly touched Kingsley instead. From a hand on Kingsley's thigh to wrapping his fingers around Kingsley's wrist, Gideon just wanted the additional contact - even during sex.
Kingsley found the rhythm to match his own thrusts and let himself forget anything else but the feeling of making love to Gideon. He knew this wasn't only sex – he'd never cared so much about his partner's pleasure as much as he cared for Gideon. He'd never cared about anyone as much as he cared for Gideon.
He sensed that Gideon was about to come by the jerky movements he was making underneath him and also by the steadier grip on his own hand. He increased his thrusts, hoping to hang on just as long as it took for Gideon to come.
Squeezing Kingsley's wrist with one hand, Gideon wrapped his other hand around Kingsley's hand, making him move faster and apply pressure right there until Gideon came with another moan. That was something else that had changed with their relationship: Gideon didn't mind coming first. It was something Kingsley liked, and Gideon enjoyed doing what he could to make Kingsley happy.
Finally able to let go, Kingsley came with a strangled cry of "Oh, Gideon!" and, after thrusting a couple more times, collapsed on top of Gideon, kissing him wherever his mouth touched. He couldn't stop marveling as how the act of squeezing oranges had let to something so incredibly good.
But again, being with Gideon was incredibly good.
Smiling contentedly, Gideon rolled them to their sides and buried his head under Kingsley's chin. He sighed and kissed Kingsley's collarbone before closing his eyes. Gideon wrapped one arm around Kingsley's waist, running a finger around the small of his back. "Bed's wet," he mumbled, sliding his hips forward to find a dry spot.
"Bed's a mess, but luckily you have a French maid."
"Yep, a maid for all services. I like that."