Chapter Text
Cronus sulks in the corner of Meenah’s spacious living room, licking his wounds after another rebuff. He sips his drink, glaring at the back of the guy who just rejected him. Whatever. He isn’t that hot anyway.
It's been a long night of disappointment. Meenah isn’t talking to him, annoyed he even showed up, and Cronus is starting to consider walking home when he feels eyes on him. His skin crawls a little, and he looks back across the room, sweeping the crowd until they lock eyes.
Kurloz.
He hasn’t spent a ton of time around the dude, but knows him through the grapevine, so he has a vague awareness of him and a few beefs between him and some other friends of friends. He’s like Mituna’s creepy bodyguard, always hovering around him and signing shit to him, much to Latula’s irritation. That’s according to Kankri, who makes it their life mission to get involved in everyone’s relationships.
He’s never talked to him before because he has some sort of mutism disorder. Cronus doesn’t quite understand it, but the long and short of it is he doesn’t talk to most people. Still, not bad to look at, tall and skinny; super goth and hot in a scary way. He’s usually blankly friendly when approached, just smiles and nods along to whatever you say to him, but there’s just … something in his big dark eyes that makes Cronus feel like Kurloz is mocking everything people say, filing everything away in his mind to laugh about behind their back.
Kurloz is leaning on the wall behind Mituna as his friend laughs loudly with his girlfriend. Kurloz doesn’t even look to see what’s so funny, just stares at Cronus with that unreadable smile of his. When they lock eyes, his smile gets a little wider.
It isn’t friendly.
It feels … predatory.
A shiver goes down Cronus’s spine as they just watch each other for a second. Kurloz gives him a slow, indulgent up and down, eyes lingering between Cronus’s legs. Cronus feels hot, his dick swelling in his jeans despite himself.
He blames it on the alcohol.
He knows his face is red, knows Kurloz can probably see that he’s already flustered. But he doesn’t seem dissuaded. Cronus takes a sip of his drink, breaking eye contact with him for a second, intimidated by the dude’s unnerving stare. When he looks back, Kurloz is still just watching him.
Kurloz tips his chin up at Cronus deliberately and Cronus’s hand tightens around his drink. He isn’t sure - is this cruising? Is he being cruised? He feels like he’s being cruised. He’s never been cruised before, and he wasn’t anticipating it from this fucking guy.
Kurloz moves, leaning in towards Mituna to murmur something in his ear. Mituna looks unconcerned, just nods along, and then Kurloz leaves his post. Cronus watches him head towards the hall where Meenah’s stairs are. As he walks back, he shoots Cronus another lingering glance, daring him to follow.
The message is clear.
Cronus’s heart stops for a second as he tries to consider his options. Kurloz either wants to fuck him or kill him. And he’s pretty sure the risk was worth it for a chance to get his dick wet.
He could do this. This is happening.
He’s losing his fucking virginity tonight somehow.
Cronus sets his drink down on a table and follows after him.
The hall is dark and quiet on the way upstairs, and the music grows faint as he enters the mildly restricted area. The stairs creak a little as he walks up, and the smell of cigarettes wafts down to meet him halfway. The scent leads him to Meenah’s room. The door is cracked, something he’s pretty sure isn’t normal. Meenah always locks that shit up tight before a rager. He hesitates before pushing it open, stepping into the dark room.
Kurloz leans against the far wall next to the open window, ashing his cigarette out of it. Cronus cracks a nervous grin.
“I don’t think we’re supposed to be in here,” he tells him, shutting the door behind him. He locks the door, and the click is loud in the quiet room. Kurloz tips his head a little, like a curious dog. He’s still smiling that little smile, black hole eyes shiny in the darkness.
“You gon’ tell on me?” he asks. Kurloz’s voice is deep and a little gravelly, maybe from disuse, maybe from the cigarette. He watches him, studying him like an experiment.
“I ain’t never heard you talk before.” Kurloz laughs lowly.
“I don’t think you ever seen me drunk before.” Kurloz doesn’t look drunk, he looks present. Grounded. Excited. Cronus feels it too, his nervousness not enough to dissuade his dick from swelling in his jeans.
“You mind if I uh … I hit that?” he asks, nodding to the cigarette in Kurloz’s hand. His smirk stays firmly in place as he crooks a finger, gesturing for him to come closer. Cronus listens, feeling a little dazed at the way things are progressing. Kurloz watches him until he’s so close they can touch, if someone reaches out, if someone breaks. Kurloz looks down at Cronus, takes a deep drag off his cigarette, and blows smoke in his face. Cronus coughs in surprise, holding a hand up to wave the smoke away. Kurloz flicks the cigarette out of the window before he grabs Cronus’s hand out of the air to pull him in.
“You can have as many as you want when we’re done,” he tells him, and then pulls his hand down and guides it right between Kurloz’s legs.
Oh.
Cronus’s brain goes blank as he learns something new about Kurloz.
“You’re … you don’t-” He cuts himself off before he says something dumb. Kurloz laughs at him, and he feels stupider than usual.
“What? Don’t know what to do?” he asks, letting go of Cronus’s hand to let him fly on his own. Cronus’s face heats at his suggestion, embarrassed because he’s right .
“I just didn’t know you were … trans?” he says weakly, rubbing him through his jeans. He feels clumsy. Uncoordinated. But Kurloz grabs him by his belt loop and pulls him in tight. His legs spread, encouraging him to keep going. Cronus is definitely hard at this point, and his dick aches to dive right into that burning heat between Kurloz’s legs.
“Is that a problem?” he asks. It is and isn’t. Cronus has never seen a vag up close before. And internet porn probably isn’t very realistic.
“No,” he lies. He grinds the heel of his palm into what he thinks might be the general area of Kurloz’s clit. Kurloz huffs and Cronus hopes it’s in a good way. He feels encouraged that his hips grind back against his touch. “It’s fine. Kinda hot.” Kurloz laughs at him again.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” His tone is biting, and Cronus flushes, caught.
“I don’t do this uh … often,” he admits to him. Kurloz’s eyes flash in a way that makes Cronus feel small.
“You’re a fucking virgin,” Kurloz says it like the fact it is, and Cronus wants to deny it … but he can’t.
“Fuck you. Maybe.” Kurloz’s mocking grin doesn’t waver and Cronus realizes his hand has stilled. He rubs at him again, and Kurloz’s lack of reaction shows him whatever he was doing before wasn’t making him huff in enjoyment. “I’m sorry.” He feels compelled to apologize, trying to save whatever is happening between them.
“Just stop,” Kurloz tells him, and his hand falls away pathetically. “You want me to show you what to do?” he asks, but he doesn't sound nice.
“...Yeah. Please.” Kurloz puts his hand on his chest and pushes him back a little.
“Take your shirt off. I want something to look at,” Kurloz tells him, and he grasps the bottom of it nervously, intimidated again by this skinny asshole looming over him. It doesn’t dissuade his dick at all, in fact, he’s harder than he’s ever been. He pulls his shirt off, and Kurloz’s hands are on him suddenly, cold hands making his muscles jump. “That’s not bad…” Kurloz says appreciatively, following the groove of his abs with his calloused thumb. Cronus isn’t the buffest, but he’s proud of it anyway, gives people something decent to admire. If they ever bothered to try and get his shirt off. Cronus’s dick aches as Kurloz trails his hands up Cronus’s stomach, trapped painfully in his jeans. Kurloz reaches his chest, thumb rubbing over one of Cronus’s nipples and making him bite his lip.
“You want it bad, huh?” His mean tone only makes him drool precum pathetically into his boxers. “Don’t worry. I’ll show you how to be a man.”
“Man, fu—” Cronus almost starts cussing him out before one of Kurloz’s hands come down to cup his hard dick, stroking him through his jeans. Cronus cuts himself off and prays Kurloz will keep going.
“Take these off too,” he says, playing with the waistband of his pants.
“What about you?” Cronus protests, even though his hands are already in progress unbuttoning his jeans.
“Just take your fucking pants off,” Kurloz says, mean smirk lingering. He pulls away as Cronus starts to pull his jeans down, and hooks his thumbs around the waistband of his boxers.
“These too?” He asked, taking Kurloz's direction a little too well.
“Unless you want to just grind on my ass and cum in your boxers like a twelve year old.” Cronus’s dick twitches in his pants at the idea, humiliating as it is. He glares at Kurloz unconvincingly and pulls his boxers down. Kurloz snorts at him. “I guess we can make this work,” he says, taking Cronus’s reasonably generous length into his hand.
“What, is it not fuckin’ enough for ya?” Cronus protests, but it’s weak on account of Kurloz starting to stroke him off. “Must do this a lot to be such a dick connoisseur.” Kurloz doesn’t give him a verbal response, and puts his free hand on his chest. Cronus hopes for a brief moment that he’ll play with his nipples again, but instead, he pushes him back, cupping him between the legs firmly as he walks him back, eyes shining like a predator. Cronus can’t look away, just follows him back until his knees hit the bed. Kurloz lets him go to push him back firmly onto the bed. Cronus flops pathetically onto the bed, sitting up on his elbows to watch him, backlit by the moonlight streaming in from the open window.
“You ready to learn your lesson, virgin?” Cronus nods up at him, eyes wide, nervous and excited. He expected Kurloz to take off his hoodie, but instead, he goes right to his jeans, peeling the skin tight pants off his thin thighs. Cronus’s breath catches as he realizes Kurloz has no underwear on, and with one move he gets his first look at real life, honest-to-god pussy.
It’s definitely not like the porn he’s watched.
Kurloz is pretty hairy, a nice treasure trail peeking out from under his hoodie. It draws Cronus’s eyes right down between his legs, to his wet pussy and t-dick hard between his folds. His length is decent compared to the porn stars Cronus watches, but still is just barely visible as he stands. The sight almost distracts him from the raised scars laddering up the skin on his upper thighs. He isn’t sure whether to acknowledge it, especially since he’s about to get some, but Kurloz doesn’t give him too much time to just stare. He climbs up on the bed, thighs straddling Cronus’s own, and Cronus just watches like a dipshit. Kurloz laughs at him again as he lays there, overwhelmed with a dude in his lap.
“Lesson one. If you see something you like, put your fucking hands on it,” Kurloz tells him, and Cronus still hesitates to wrap his hands around his narrow hips and run his thumbs over the bone that sticks out there. Kurloz is taller than him and is definitely scary, so it’s weird to hold him like this and realize that Cronus could probably easily flip them right now, forget about Kurloz’s cruel little jabs and just … overpower him. Really show him how much he’s working with.
He doesn’t, though. He’s happy to just let Kurloz climb on top and do what he wants, insults included.
“You want me to fuck you like this?” Cronus asks, trying to be sexy. Kurloz hums, sounding amused.
“No. I’m going to fuck you like this,” he replies, and Cronus flushes. Kurloz leans down a little, hand coming to bury in Cronus's hair. Their dicks glide against each other and he groans to him softly, pressing his hips up as Kurloz’s hand fists in his hair, an attempt to get more friction against his poor neglected dick. He gasps softly as Kurloz leans in and his lips brush over his neck. He scrapes his teeth against the sensitive skin there, and Cronus groans back. His hands tighten against his hips, trying to hold him more firmly against his dick, and Kurloz hums appreciatively. He rolls his hips against Cronus, the movement smooth thanks to the lube Kurloz is generously providing. Cronus tries to grind with him, and the feeling of Kurloz’s smaller dick as it rubs against his own is good but not enough. Kurloz moans into his neck though, and then bites down. Hard. Cronus lets out a pathetic cry, a gasping little sound as he arches up against Kurloz, his chest pressing up against his as he holds the bite, high on his neck and impossible to hide. He can feel Kurloz laugh into his neck before he kisses over his new bruise, grinding down hard against Cronus.
“Fucker!” Cronus swears at him, hands tightening on his hips. “What the hell!”
“So you won’t forget,” Kurloz murmurs to him. His hot breath ghosts over Cronus’s neck, and he shivers, neck throbbing in pain. Kurloz sits a little, eyes glinting maliciously in the dim light. “Lesson two. Ready?”
“I fucking guess.” Kurloz lets go of his hair to reach down and wrap around his cock, shifting a little. Cronus has a blinding moment of clarity, and his eyes open wide as Kurloz raises up, wet hole hovering just above his hard length. “Wait, wait, condom, wait!”
“I want to feel it,” Kurloz says, and sinks down on Cronus’s dick.
“Oh, shit!” Cronus says intelligently as his nails dig into Kurloz’s hips. Kurloz groans softly to him, eyes fluttering as he takes him all the way in.
“You like it?” He asks him, voice getting breathy as he rolls his hips against him. It’s amazing, better than Cronus could have imagined, definitely better than his hand at the end of a long, lonely night.
“Yeah, yeah, I like it, please-” Kurloz grins sharply, rolling his hips nice and slow as he starts to really fuck him. “That’s s-so good, fuck…” His head tips back, eyes closing. Kurloz grabs his chin forcing him to look back up at him.
“Don’t you fucking look away. Virgin whore.”
“God you’re s-such a bitch,” Cronus snaps back, breaking a little. Kurloz doesn’t lose that sharp, sharp smile, burning into his drunk brain like a knife.
“You’re still looking.”
He is still looking.
“Doesn’t mean you’re not a bitch,” Cronus grits out, eyes trailing down to his lap where Kurloz is fucking him torturously slow. His legs are spread so wide in his lap that Cronus can see everything, and he’s entranced by the metal decorating his dick. “Maybe I’m a virgin, but you’re a slut.” It isn't the smoothest thing he’s ever said. Kurloz’s hips falter for a second, eyes flashing. But the way his hole tightens around Cronus’s length is extremely telling.
“Be motherfuckin’ grateful.” His voice isn’t so steady and firm anymore, and he pushes Cronus’s head back into the mattress. “Could learn a lot from someone like me.” He says, leaning back a little as his thighs work him faster, up and down on his length.
“Fuck, keep going. Trust me, I'm p-paying attention.” He tries to keep the pace, fucking up into Kurloz as he comes down on his cock. Kurloz moans, and he takes the encouragement, gripping his hips as he pushes him further, trying to speed up like he wants him to. There’s a sharp sting of arousal in his gut when he forces him easily, feeling the resistance and then the acquiescence of him. Kurloz is easy for him to push around, but he’s choosing to lay back and take his shit talk. It’s weird that Kurloz’s mean fucking mouth is making his balls ache, but it’s working for him.
“Good boy,” Kurloz pants out, breath catching in his throat as Cronus slams up into him. “Ah … you’re starting to get the idea.” He lets go of his grip on the mattress with one hand, letting Cronus take over the rhythm. Kurloz’s hand drifts between his thighs instead, using two fingers to stroke his dick as Cronus fucks him. His thumb rubs over the metal running through his hood, eyes hazy as he jacks himself off. Cronus groans at the sight, wishing he had a camera right fucking here to relive this forever, or at least so he could rub it in everyone’s stupid faces.
“That’s s-so hot,” Cronus moans out to him. He definitely feels hot. His stomach is tight with pleasure as he loses his rhythm, focused on how nice Kurloz’s hole feels around him. Kurloz
whimpers
, he cuts himself off but Cronus hears it. He uses the last of his brain power to focus on keeping the pace up, though it’s unsteady, watching Kurloz’s fingers squeeze his cock rhythmically.
“Ah, keep going—” Kurloz breaks into a moan as he tries to speak, still refusing to break his gaze away from Cronus, his dark eyes half-lidded and hazy.
“Trust me I’m t-trying—” He grunts. He can feel himself getting close, embarrassingly fast, and tries to think unsexy shit. He’s distracted by Kurloz losing control and whining in the back of his throat, begging for his dick without even using his words. “Fuck. You are a slut.”
“I’m fucking ruining you, virgin. How’s that feel?” Kurloz has this whiny tone to his voice now, jumping every time Cronus fucks into him.
It feels fucking amazing. A little too amazing.
“I’m c-close, wait—” Cronus tries to slow down but Kurloz fights him, hips working him in a way he doesn’t even want to fight anyway. “Fuck, fuck—” His voice breaks into a groan as he starts to cum deep inside him, thrusting unsteadily. His eyes close, nails digging into Kurloz’s hips as he holds him in place. He can hear Kurloz moan as he’s filled, hole squeezing around his cock as he strokes himself off. Kurloz grinds down on Cronus’s softening dick, trying to finish too, but it’s a little too much when he’s so sensitive like this. He groans to him in complaint, nails digging into Kurloz’s hips.
“Hurts—” He groans to him, but Kurloz tightens around him, making a little whimpering noise as he speeds up, trying to finish. Cronus can feel it happen, his hole rippling around his softening length in a way that makes him want to get hard again, and he can actually feel it as Kurloz cums on him, his hole dripping down his length and into his lap.
There’s a beat as the world comes back into focus, the party music below them, the night birds singing outside the open window, the sounds of everything so close yet so far away to the both of them.
“Wow.” Cronus mumbles, staring up at Kurloz. Kurloz grins back at him, his smile softer than before.
“Not bad for your first time, I guess,” he tells him. Kurloz moves, and Cronus wants to protest. He lets him go though, watching him pull off of him. Cum drips out of his beat up hole, and Cronus’s dick twitches in renewed interest.
“Is that … are you … you’re not gonna go and get fucking pregnant on me here are you?” He asks as Kurloz stands on unsteady feet.
“God no.” Kurloz laughs, leaning down to snatch Cronus’s underwear out of his jeans. Cronus sits up, watching him in confusion.
“What are you—?” Cronus asks before he slides them on. “What the hell, dude?”
“I don’t wanna drip cum into my jeans. What, you can’t spare them?” Kurloz returns, grabbing his jeans off the floor.
“I mean…” It doesn’t matter what he says, because Kurloz is putting his jeans on over them anyway. “Wait, are you dipping already?” Kurloz tugs his jeans over his hips and glances up at Cronus.
“Yeah.” He says, buttoning them up. Cronus waits a beat, but he doesn’t continue.
“So … what now?” Cronus asks, watching Kurloz adjust his hoodie before running his hands through his hair, pushing his loose curls back into place.
“Now? I’m going back down to the party.”
“Can I at least get your number?” Cronus asks, and Kurloz smirks a little.
“I’ll see you around.”
And he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him as he leaves Cronus naked on the bed.