Author: Kat
Title: cloak
Story: Shine Like It Does - One-Night Stand AU
Colors: Transparent 16 (Masculine), bittersweet 5 (the road not taken)
Supplies and Materials: Eraser (One-night stand AU), chalk (a greased pole *cough*), glue (there is no time to waste now, so you might as well set aside your fears and find a way to flow with the current energy.), pastels (oral fixation), novelty beads (A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. -- Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat Pray Love), fingerpainting (explicit porn, I usually gloss it over).
Word Count: 654
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Felix isn't even sure what he's doing here.
Warnings: Unsafe sexual activity-- always use condoms, kids, unless no dicks are involved.
Notes: All of my porn lately seems to turn into blowjobs and feels. IDK. Enjoy.


The coats are slippery under his hand, hangers clattering as he struggles to find something to hold on to. His other hand is tangled in this man's dark hair and Christ, Felix doesn't know his name, doesn't know anything about him except that his voice is low and smoky, and his mouth is something out of a dream.

That, and he's willing to blow a stranger in a semi-public place, and what the fuck is Felix even doing here?

He doesn't do this. Any of this. He doesn't go out much, not since Vincent, but Kenneth dragged him to this noisy little dance club, with paint smears still on his hands and his glasses smudged crooked over his nose. And this man, this beautiful dark-haired man with a wicked smile and kind eyes, he came over to Felix and he asked if he wanted to dance, put his hands on Felix's hips and pulled him closer and oh.

Felix isn't drunk, and neither is this man—there was a faint taste of alcohol on his tongue but not enough to signal even tipsiness. So the kiss was nothing of an accident, nor were the ones that followed. Neither was the whispered offer, or the laughing run to the coatroom, or the sweet lascivious smile on this man's face when he slid to his knees and opened Felix's jeans.

And now he's mouthing at the head of Felix's cock, pressing his thumb up between Felix's balls. There's an expression of pure pleasure on his face, though neither of them has laid a finger on him—as if just doing this, just pleasing Felix, is enough for him.

Felix doesn't know why he's here, but he does know he wouldn't be anywhere else.

His hand falls to the man's dark hair, threads through it, and Felix wouldn't grab but the man makes a noise that hits him right in the gut and pushes his skull into Felix's hand. So he does grab, holds on for dear life, and the man at his feet groans, drops one hand from his hip. Felix knows exactly what he's doing with it, too.

The sensations start to swirl together, making him dizzy—the half-light in the booth and the sight of the man's dark hair tangling against his paler fingers, the throbbing beat from the club just to their backs and the wet heat on his cock, the sound of people laughing and the man's little begging noises that thrum through him. The hand on his hip gets tighter and Felix is so close, and fuck, oh fuck, he's about to come into a stranger's mouth in a public place and he just does not care—

His orgasm punches out of him and he nearly doubles over. The man takes it all, swallowing steadily, his hand still tight on Felix's hip; there might be bruising afterwards, and Felix isn't sure he cares. The other drags his mouth slowly up and off Felix's cock, almost painful now in the oversensitive aftermath of coming, then rests that dark head in the crease between Felix's thigh and crotch and muffles a cry, jerks forward and bites the sensitive skin there. That will definitely leave a mark, and Felix definitely doesn't care.

They stay like that for a moment, a tableau both filthy and tender, and to Felix's complete surprise tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

"What's wrong?" The other man is standing now, looking him in the eyes, concern and a lazy contentment warring over his face. He's rubbing his thumb in a slow circle against Felix's hip—he's done up Felix's pants sometime in the last minute, but his hand is still under the waistband, still on bare skin.

"It's just..." Felix blinks back the tears. "I don't even know your name."

The man smiles at him, unbearably sweet. "I'm Jack," he says, and kisses Felix, and is gone.