Green Chartreuse
Author: Hiper Bunny
Title: Green Chartreuse
Series: Flavor of the Month
Pairing: Kourt/Mouse (trust me, here)
Rating: NC-17 for m/m airborne nookie
Feedback: Saying nice things at KCFC@egroups.com is heartily encouraged.
Otherwise I'll prone to goof off and not write smut for you guys. It has
been one of THOSE months.
Archive: Yes, at KCFC
Disclaimer: Nope, not this time. You SHOW me the copyright violation!
Ha! Trick Question!
Notes:
The Muses stealth attacked me one night. NO clue why they felt the need.
FYI: Green Chartreuse is a type of liquor, and is an ingredient in the
Bunny Beverage "The Flaming Hiperdrive" which will be featured at the
OBIQUI Slash Invitational Clothing Optional Toga Soiree and Wine Tasting,
later this week.
Okay. Kourt got accused of being 'exclusive' rather than 'a horndog who
likes to wave his dick around' so... in the interests of preserving his
reputation... this.
Welcome back, Linda.
Thanks:
To Fox, who knows damn well why.
And Layna, because it's sort of obligatory at this point.
I'm not exactly sure what my parents were thinking when they named me Mouse.
It's not like anyone in this day and age can be named after a mythical
creature and have anything like a normal childhood. I've never quite worked
up the nerve to ask them about it, though, because frankly they seem
embarrassed by the whole thing. You expect your co-workers to call you by
your last name, and maybe your mullya-baseball coach would, too. It's just
flat weird when your own mother calls you by your last name.
"Sam," she says when she calls me up "There's a problem with..." whatever
because my mom only calls when she needs help of some sort. She's kind of
flaky that way. Then again, this is the same woman who called me 'Mouse'
in the first place so what can you do? And Dad... well, I don't expect to
hear from him again, really. Space Pirates are not what you call reliable
parental figures, but he'd call me 'Sam' if he were to call me, which he
won't, so I don't know why I'm telling you about this. Hell, I'm not sure
what my point was except to say I know I have a weird name. Which is
possibly how I ended up doing what... well, who... I did last night.
There are some bars here on Gavduron that just don't bear mentioning. I'm
known in pretty much all of them. I'll drink anyone under the table and
then drink the table under the floor as long as someone else is buying. And
I've never had a hangover, which just pisses most people off but doesn't
bother me much. Anyway, I'm in one of my bars last night and this... if I
didn't know better, I'd say he was some kind of warrior or something. I mean,
the way he walked was enough to give me wood for the next month, let alone
the hair, that mouth... and he sat down right next to me and ordered a
drink.
He didn't say anything and for the life of me I couldn't come up with a
single fucking line. After a few minutes he turned around on his seat and
said "Mouse."
You could have knocked me over with a thought, but I managed to stammer
"Y-y-yeah?"
"I'm Crowe."
"H-h-Hi." Yeah, I'm one smooth operator.
He tossed the rest of his drink off and flashed the most perfect smile I've
ever seen. "Let's get out of here."
So we did.
I meant to get him back to my place, honest I did. I've got a really
great pad up in the midlevels, just perfect for an impromptu seduction. I
mean this mother is laid out. Problem is, he pulled me into the back of
the most beautiful luxury transport I've ever seen, plush upholstery and wet
bar and droid-driver-take-us-out-of-scan-range-please and we were up among
the spires of Gavduron cruising along the scenic route faster than I could
really process what was happening. At the time, processing didn't seem to
be on my list of priorities. It wasn't even in the same room as the list.
And the list had been left somewhere down dirtside and I was up in the
clouds and oh fuck was that his tongue doing that to my neck?
It was.
I twisted around on the seat and he was right up against me, his mouth just
slightly open, the pink of his tongue brushing over his teeth. "I'm not
wrong, am I?" he asked.
I shook my head no and swallowed once, hard.
"Good."
And then he had me on my back, stretched out across the cool leather of the
seat, my shirt open and my nipples harder than I can remember them ever
being. My cock didn't bear thinking about, it was so hard and he was
kissing me so hard I knew my lips were going to be bruised. I loved it. I
put my hands in all that curly hair, wrapped my legs around him and just
held on tight while his tongue did incredible things inside my mouth. Then
he was sitting up and I stared dazedly at the lights outside as they
streaked by. The cold of the seat leather against my ass brought me back to
myself. My pants were in a wad on the floor and he was pulling his clothes
off. His body, by the way, must have been bioengineered. I mean, nobody
looks like that without help from somewhere and I sure didn't see any
scars. He was all muscle and hard cock and soft, absolutely incredible
lips. And his eyes, I suddenly realized, were the deepest, purest green I
had ever seen.
And then he leaned over me again and swallowed my dick and I couldn't see
anything but the inside of my eyelids as I closed my eyes and howled. He
thrust his mouth over my shaft again and again while his fingers toyed with
my nipples, drawing hoarse cries and harsh, panting breaths out of me while
I twisted under him, learning all about the reasons why this car was done in
leather. Something was nudging at my ass, something warm and small. I've
been with enough teeks to know what that was, but most telekinetics well
tell you before they mind-fuck you. S'okay. He was good at that too, and I
really wasn't in a position that warranted much complaining. In fact, the
only thing my position warranted was some oil and something solid to grip.
He had both.
He released me from his mouth and I knelt up, turning to grip the runner-bar
over the window. Gavduron's a sty, but from up in the skyline you'd never
know it. He oiled me slowly as we passed over the Congress building.
Something about that struck me as funny, and I chuckled under my breath.
But then his knees slid between my legs and the tip of his cock pressed
against me at the same moment his mouth latched onto the back of my neck.
His fingers were strong around my cock, and his other hand rubbed soothing
circles over my belly as he pressed in. I groaned, leaning back into his
fuck with a hunger that was surprising in its urgency. When his hips rested
against my ass, he held perfectly still. "Mouse..."
"Don't stop."
"Okay."
He moved in me like no one ever has before, thick and hard and satin-smooth,
stroking in all the right places at all the right times. My knuckles must
have been stark white as I clung to the bar above me. I felt as though I
were suspended there, strung between my hands and knees as I rocked onto his
shaft and into his fist. His mouth worked at my neck and shoulders with a
calm insistence that made my head spin. "Crowe, please, fuck..." I sobbed,
rubbing my face against my arm.
"Come for me," he whispered, tongue flicking across my ear.
So I did, spilling over his hand with a shout, falling back against him as I
lost my grip on the bar. His arms came around me, supporting me easily as
he thrust upwards into my trembling body, his soft gasps announcing his own
completion.
I don't know how I got home, really. Woke up in my own bed, in my own skin
with nothing but a memory and a monster hickey on my shoulder. That's okay.
I never expected to have anything like that. I guess I should count
myself lucky it happened at all and stop worrying about whether or not it
will ever happen again.
-end-
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