the_water_clock (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
the_water_clock) wrote2009-06-04 10:55 am
the_water_clock) wrote2009-06-04 10:55 am
Entry tags:
FIC: Different for Girls (AI: Kat/Elliott, NC-17), 2/7
Author: Clio
Title: Different for Girls Chapter 2 of 7: I've Got a Crush on You
Pairing: American Idol: Katharine McPhee/Elliott Yamin
Summary: Kat's recent heartbreak has left her a changed woman—and now her old friend Elliott is seeing her in a different light.
Chapter Rating: NC-17
Chapter Length: 2100 words
Disclaimer: People sort of own themselves, don't they? Which means this is a work of fiction.
Notes: Thank you, thank you, thank you![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lillijulianne. While this story is a sequel of sorts to her sequence of stories about Blake, Chris and Kat, there's probably enough information here to read this on its own. All you need know is that Kat had been engaged to another man at the time she was fooling around with Blake and Chris.
1: But Not For Me
i've got a crush on you
They were both in the studio finishing things up—Elliott's release date was about a week behind Kat's—and given that their schedules were at the mercy of highly in-demand producers their dates over the next month were sometimes lunch, sometimes drinks, sometimes pancakes at 3am. Kat sometimes seemed like she'd been hibernating for a while and just woke up, but for all that she wasn't particularly fragile, just mending, thank you, and Elliott liked to think he had something to do with that. He was letting her take the lead sexually, not only because it seemed like a good idea but also because he'd always been the sort of kid who saved his treats (well, those he could have) and ate them slowly so they'd last longer. That, plus the often odd in-between-engagements times of their dates meant that things hadn't progressed all that far.
Well, all that far in the bedroom. They were seeing each other at least every other day and talking on the phone when they didn't, as though they were trying to solidify things as much as possible before they went their separate ways when the records were released and the promotional tours started. About three weeks after their first date, Elliott was in the studio very late one night and on a break called Kat, who he figured would be home after a night out with her girlfriends. He curled up in a chair in an unused studio, his feet up against the console.
"What did you see?" he asked.
"Laura. It's a mystery film noir from 1942."
"How does it end?"
Kat sighed, coming up against Elliott's distaste for suspense. "A woman is killed in her apartment, and the detective starts reading her diaries and falls in love with her."
"With a dead woman."
"Yes. It's kind of romantic."
"It's kind of psychotic, Kat."
"But it turns out she's not dead—someone else was killed in her apartment while she was away, so she comes back and he's sitting in her apartment and he thinks he's dreaming."
"Well, okay, now it's romantic."
"See? And then he thinks she's in on the murder of the other girl, and he doesn't trust her even though he loves her."
"Does she love him?"
"She does by the end, because he's just, well, normal. She's had a lot of guys who brought her a lot of drama, but he's a solid, normal, stand-up guy."
"That sounds good for me. Is he handsome?"
"It's a movie! Of course he's handsome."
"Hmmm."
"Don't start with me. You know your appeal."
"Fine. So solid, normal stand-up guys? Because I can give you a hard time if you want it."
Kat is silent for a moment. "Nah. I think I'm done with that. Excitement yes, drama no."
"I'll try to be exciting then."
"Elliott? Are things not going well tonight?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Well, you're fishing and that isn't like you."
Elliott tapped a pencil against the arm of his chair. "The harmony parts on this song just aren't working. I was double tracking the vocal but we aren't getting the sound we wanted. Now we'll have to bring in a female singer and that means a delay because I'm losing the producer for three days after tonight."
"What if I just came in and did it?"
The tapping stopped. "You'd do that? I mean, yeah, it would help but it's kinda late—"
"Not that late. I was singing all afternoon, but I'm still in good shape. And at worst you'll have a guide track to work with and you can get someone else to sing it later if you want to."
"Kat, that would be a real help. You're sure you don't mind?"
"Of course not. It'll take me about a half an hour to get there—"
"No. I need to clear my head anyway. I'll come get you."
"Great. I'll see you soon then."
"Yeah, I'll see you soon." Elliott closed his phone and hopped out of the chair. This certainly was an advantage to dating a singer. He'd meant to bring her in to hear the early mixes at some point next week but this, working together, was different. He hadn't been in a studio with Kat since—well, since almost two years ago when they were both on Idol. Certainly offering to do an as yet unheard backup part was the gesture of a pro. He'd just have to have faith that she'd behave that way, too.
"I can't thank you enough," Elliott was saying as Kat unlocked the door to her house. "You really helped me out of a tight spot."
"Oh, I was glad to do it," she replied. "You're coming in, right?"
"Well, it's late—"
Kat pulled him up to her, in the doorway, and kissed him. "You're coming in."
"I'm coming in."
Kat dropped her bag next to the couch and kicked off her flats. "Want something to drink?"
Elliott sat down on the couch. "No, just you."
"Well, you got me." She sat in his lap, straddling him, her hands on his shoulders.
He cupped her behind with his hands. "I do, don't I?"
"You do," she said, leaning in to kiss him.
Elliott had moved his hands from her bottom to her front, running his thumb over her nipple. She arched into his touch, wiggling on his lap, working her ass against him. "Come on," she whispered to him.
"Tell me what you want," he said, moving away from her mouth to lick along her collarbone.
She moved a hand to the back of his head. "You like a girl who talks dirty?" she asked.
"Isn't dirty," he replied, and she could feel him smiling against her skin. "Just wanna know what you want."
"Feel me up," she said. "I want your thumb on my clit."
"Love to." He slipped warm fingers past the waistband of her knit trousers, into the wetness within. His right hand stayed on her breast, his thumb working the same kind of circles around her nipple that his other thumb was against her clit, and both were swelling and hardening, as though in rhythm with each other. He was sucking her earlobe, softly grazing his teeth over it, and she bit her lip, pushing her whole torso against him, feeling him so solid and muscular beneath her, squeezing her legs against his thighs.
She'd been thinking about this for so long that it wasn't going to take much. She was cradling his head in one hand, fingers tangling in the longish curls, and his beard brushed softly against her neck, and she wondered just how furry he would be under all those clothes. It was the thought of that, of pale olive skin covered in dark brown hair, that sent her over the edge. "Elliott," she whispered, and then, "no, don't stop," feeling the first orgasm breaking like a wave against her shore but knowing the second one, the one she could just see coming, would break over her head. Her other hand pulled down the front of his shirt and the feel of his hair, rough against her, convulsed her again, only this time she leaned back, away from him, and he moved his hand from her breast to her back to keep her from falling.
She opened her eyes, looked up at the ceiling, then sat back up and kissed him.
"Wow, Katharine," he said. "Been a long time? Or does singing really turn you on that much?"
"Well … it's just kinda like that."
"All the time?"
She nodded. "When I trust someone, yes. All the time."
He had pulled his hand out from between her legs. "You're so wet," he said, and sucked her off his fingers, slowly, closing his eyes.
Watching him, she had a flash of being in a car, of dipping her own fingers into her quim and then feeding them to Elliott, and wondered if it was a memory she couldn't place, or just a vision of a possible future. "I'm wet all the time, too, actually. Not, like, wet-wet, you know? But, wet."
Elliott looked at her, and his blue eyes seemed very large. "After this I think I'll be able to tell the difference."
Kat smiled. "And what about you, Elliott?"
"You don't …"
"You really think I'm going to let you leave without seeing how you come? Uh-uh. No way." She pushed back along his thighs just enough to reach his waist and unbuckled his belt. "Wait, we're going to need—" she leaned forward, looking over the side of the couch, pulling over a bag and reaching inside—"this!" and pulled out a small towel, which she set next to them on the couch. His two hands were settled back on her rear, massaging it a bit which was very pleasant, while she unbuttoned and unzipped and pushed blue striped cotton boxers out of the way. Wanting to make this wetter for him, she slipped her hand between her legs, feeling her cunt still wet and wide open, and his eyes widened so much watching her that she had to chuckle. "Might as well use it," she murmured.
He was hard—she had felt him under her for a while—and his cock was pretty average in length, which she was expecting, but quite thick, which she wasn't—thick enough to make her think twice about having him in her ass, though she knew she'd want that eventually. Her hand just about wrapped around the base, and the vein on the bottom stood out, almost putting a groove in her palm as she stroked him, flicking her thumb over the head. She didn't look at it—after all, he hadn't seen her—but did it all by touch, and by reading the expression on his face.
Elliott was having a little trouble keeping his eyes open, and his mouth was puckered into a little circle, sucking in a breath and letting it out with an "ooooh." As she moved faster he started to thrust up into her hand, and she bounced on his thighs, as though she were on a very unusual rocking horse. He bit his lip, something she loved because it made the little patch of whiskers just below his lower lip stand straight out from his chin. On the next stroke she pushed her hand down further, rubbing along his skin at the base and tangling in the hair there, and wondered if there was any bit of his body hair she wasn't bound to fetishize and who did that? Pulling back up she rubbed her forefinger along the slit, swiping off the little bit of precum she felt there. She stroked faster now, keeping up with his thrusting but working against his rhythm, varying the length of her strokes, until she felt him tensing. She grabbed the towel with her other hand as she increased the pace. Elliott was saying "oh, oh, oh" but still staring at her, still thrusting, and then he shouted and came, and she managed to get most of it on her hand and not on his clothing.
He started shaking a little so she let go, unsurprised that he'd be one of those you couldn't really touch after they came, and instead brought her hand up to her face. How odd, to see the cum and not the cock, but feeling it and watching his face just seemed more intimate. She licked her fingers, much as he had, and he said, "Goddamn, Kat." When she giggled, he went on, "You really love sex, don't you?"
"Is that a problem?"
"God, NO! No, that is the opposite of a problem."
"You like your girls dirty?" she whispered into his ear before kissing his neck.
"No, um …"
"What?" she asked, sitting up.
"I just don't like that word. It says that sex is bad, and I don't believe in that. How about 'earthy'? I like earthy."
"Hmm." She cocked her head, considering. "Like a barefoot peasant girl."
"We're both peasants, aren't we?" Elliott replied.
"Yeah. Yeah, I suppose we are." She kissed him again, and he pulled her in close. "You can have a drink and stay, or coffee and go," she said as she wiped off her hand, then tucked him back into his clothes and refastened them.
"I'll take the coffee. When I stay I want it to be because we've planned it, not because it's late."
Kat smiled at this. "Coffee it is."
Chapter 3: Nice Work If You Can Get It
Title: Different for Girls Chapter 2 of 7: I've Got a Crush on You
Pairing: American Idol: Katharine McPhee/Elliott Yamin
Summary: Kat's recent heartbreak has left her a changed woman—and now her old friend Elliott is seeing her in a different light.
Chapter Rating: NC-17
Chapter Length: 2100 words
Disclaimer: People sort of own themselves, don't they? Which means this is a work of fiction.
Notes: Thank you, thank you, thank you
lillijulianne. While this story is a sequel of sorts to her sequence of stories about Blake, Chris and Kat, there's probably enough information here to read this on its own. All you need know is that Kat had been engaged to another man at the time she was fooling around with Blake and Chris.1: But Not For Me
i've got a crush on you
They were both in the studio finishing things up—Elliott's release date was about a week behind Kat's—and given that their schedules were at the mercy of highly in-demand producers their dates over the next month were sometimes lunch, sometimes drinks, sometimes pancakes at 3am. Kat sometimes seemed like she'd been hibernating for a while and just woke up, but for all that she wasn't particularly fragile, just mending, thank you, and Elliott liked to think he had something to do with that. He was letting her take the lead sexually, not only because it seemed like a good idea but also because he'd always been the sort of kid who saved his treats (well, those he could have) and ate them slowly so they'd last longer. That, plus the often odd in-between-engagements times of their dates meant that things hadn't progressed all that far.
Well, all that far in the bedroom. They were seeing each other at least every other day and talking on the phone when they didn't, as though they were trying to solidify things as much as possible before they went their separate ways when the records were released and the promotional tours started. About three weeks after their first date, Elliott was in the studio very late one night and on a break called Kat, who he figured would be home after a night out with her girlfriends. He curled up in a chair in an unused studio, his feet up against the console.
"What did you see?" he asked.
"Laura. It's a mystery film noir from 1942."
"How does it end?"
Kat sighed, coming up against Elliott's distaste for suspense. "A woman is killed in her apartment, and the detective starts reading her diaries and falls in love with her."
"With a dead woman."
"Yes. It's kind of romantic."
"It's kind of psychotic, Kat."
"But it turns out she's not dead—someone else was killed in her apartment while she was away, so she comes back and he's sitting in her apartment and he thinks he's dreaming."
"Well, okay, now it's romantic."
"See? And then he thinks she's in on the murder of the other girl, and he doesn't trust her even though he loves her."
"Does she love him?"
"She does by the end, because he's just, well, normal. She's had a lot of guys who brought her a lot of drama, but he's a solid, normal, stand-up guy."
"That sounds good for me. Is he handsome?"
"It's a movie! Of course he's handsome."
"Hmmm."
"Don't start with me. You know your appeal."
"Fine. So solid, normal stand-up guys? Because I can give you a hard time if you want it."
Kat is silent for a moment. "Nah. I think I'm done with that. Excitement yes, drama no."
"I'll try to be exciting then."
"Elliott? Are things not going well tonight?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Well, you're fishing and that isn't like you."
Elliott tapped a pencil against the arm of his chair. "The harmony parts on this song just aren't working. I was double tracking the vocal but we aren't getting the sound we wanted. Now we'll have to bring in a female singer and that means a delay because I'm losing the producer for three days after tonight."
"What if I just came in and did it?"
The tapping stopped. "You'd do that? I mean, yeah, it would help but it's kinda late—"
"Not that late. I was singing all afternoon, but I'm still in good shape. And at worst you'll have a guide track to work with and you can get someone else to sing it later if you want to."
"Kat, that would be a real help. You're sure you don't mind?"
"Of course not. It'll take me about a half an hour to get there—"
"No. I need to clear my head anyway. I'll come get you."
"Great. I'll see you soon then."
"Yeah, I'll see you soon." Elliott closed his phone and hopped out of the chair. This certainly was an advantage to dating a singer. He'd meant to bring her in to hear the early mixes at some point next week but this, working together, was different. He hadn't been in a studio with Kat since—well, since almost two years ago when they were both on Idol. Certainly offering to do an as yet unheard backup part was the gesture of a pro. He'd just have to have faith that she'd behave that way, too.
"I can't thank you enough," Elliott was saying as Kat unlocked the door to her house. "You really helped me out of a tight spot."
"Oh, I was glad to do it," she replied. "You're coming in, right?"
"Well, it's late—"
Kat pulled him up to her, in the doorway, and kissed him. "You're coming in."
"I'm coming in."
Kat dropped her bag next to the couch and kicked off her flats. "Want something to drink?"
Elliott sat down on the couch. "No, just you."
"Well, you got me." She sat in his lap, straddling him, her hands on his shoulders.
He cupped her behind with his hands. "I do, don't I?"
"You do," she said, leaning in to kiss him.
Elliott had moved his hands from her bottom to her front, running his thumb over her nipple. She arched into his touch, wiggling on his lap, working her ass against him. "Come on," she whispered to him.
"Tell me what you want," he said, moving away from her mouth to lick along her collarbone.
She moved a hand to the back of his head. "You like a girl who talks dirty?" she asked.
"Isn't dirty," he replied, and she could feel him smiling against her skin. "Just wanna know what you want."
"Feel me up," she said. "I want your thumb on my clit."
"Love to." He slipped warm fingers past the waistband of her knit trousers, into the wetness within. His right hand stayed on her breast, his thumb working the same kind of circles around her nipple that his other thumb was against her clit, and both were swelling and hardening, as though in rhythm with each other. He was sucking her earlobe, softly grazing his teeth over it, and she bit her lip, pushing her whole torso against him, feeling him so solid and muscular beneath her, squeezing her legs against his thighs.
She'd been thinking about this for so long that it wasn't going to take much. She was cradling his head in one hand, fingers tangling in the longish curls, and his beard brushed softly against her neck, and she wondered just how furry he would be under all those clothes. It was the thought of that, of pale olive skin covered in dark brown hair, that sent her over the edge. "Elliott," she whispered, and then, "no, don't stop," feeling the first orgasm breaking like a wave against her shore but knowing the second one, the one she could just see coming, would break over her head. Her other hand pulled down the front of his shirt and the feel of his hair, rough against her, convulsed her again, only this time she leaned back, away from him, and he moved his hand from her breast to her back to keep her from falling.
She opened her eyes, looked up at the ceiling, then sat back up and kissed him.
"Wow, Katharine," he said. "Been a long time? Or does singing really turn you on that much?"
"Well … it's just kinda like that."
"All the time?"
She nodded. "When I trust someone, yes. All the time."
He had pulled his hand out from between her legs. "You're so wet," he said, and sucked her off his fingers, slowly, closing his eyes.
Watching him, she had a flash of being in a car, of dipping her own fingers into her quim and then feeding them to Elliott, and wondered if it was a memory she couldn't place, or just a vision of a possible future. "I'm wet all the time, too, actually. Not, like, wet-wet, you know? But, wet."
Elliott looked at her, and his blue eyes seemed very large. "After this I think I'll be able to tell the difference."
Kat smiled. "And what about you, Elliott?"
"You don't …"
"You really think I'm going to let you leave without seeing how you come? Uh-uh. No way." She pushed back along his thighs just enough to reach his waist and unbuckled his belt. "Wait, we're going to need—" she leaned forward, looking over the side of the couch, pulling over a bag and reaching inside—"this!" and pulled out a small towel, which she set next to them on the couch. His two hands were settled back on her rear, massaging it a bit which was very pleasant, while she unbuttoned and unzipped and pushed blue striped cotton boxers out of the way. Wanting to make this wetter for him, she slipped her hand between her legs, feeling her cunt still wet and wide open, and his eyes widened so much watching her that she had to chuckle. "Might as well use it," she murmured.
He was hard—she had felt him under her for a while—and his cock was pretty average in length, which she was expecting, but quite thick, which she wasn't—thick enough to make her think twice about having him in her ass, though she knew she'd want that eventually. Her hand just about wrapped around the base, and the vein on the bottom stood out, almost putting a groove in her palm as she stroked him, flicking her thumb over the head. She didn't look at it—after all, he hadn't seen her—but did it all by touch, and by reading the expression on his face.
Elliott was having a little trouble keeping his eyes open, and his mouth was puckered into a little circle, sucking in a breath and letting it out with an "ooooh." As she moved faster he started to thrust up into her hand, and she bounced on his thighs, as though she were on a very unusual rocking horse. He bit his lip, something she loved because it made the little patch of whiskers just below his lower lip stand straight out from his chin. On the next stroke she pushed her hand down further, rubbing along his skin at the base and tangling in the hair there, and wondered if there was any bit of his body hair she wasn't bound to fetishize and who did that? Pulling back up she rubbed her forefinger along the slit, swiping off the little bit of precum she felt there. She stroked faster now, keeping up with his thrusting but working against his rhythm, varying the length of her strokes, until she felt him tensing. She grabbed the towel with her other hand as she increased the pace. Elliott was saying "oh, oh, oh" but still staring at her, still thrusting, and then he shouted and came, and she managed to get most of it on her hand and not on his clothing.
He started shaking a little so she let go, unsurprised that he'd be one of those you couldn't really touch after they came, and instead brought her hand up to her face. How odd, to see the cum and not the cock, but feeling it and watching his face just seemed more intimate. She licked her fingers, much as he had, and he said, "Goddamn, Kat." When she giggled, he went on, "You really love sex, don't you?"
"Is that a problem?"
"God, NO! No, that is the opposite of a problem."
"You like your girls dirty?" she whispered into his ear before kissing his neck.
"No, um …"
"What?" she asked, sitting up.
"I just don't like that word. It says that sex is bad, and I don't believe in that. How about 'earthy'? I like earthy."
"Hmm." She cocked her head, considering. "Like a barefoot peasant girl."
"We're both peasants, aren't we?" Elliott replied.
"Yeah. Yeah, I suppose we are." She kissed him again, and he pulled her in close. "You can have a drink and stay, or coffee and go," she said as she wiped off her hand, then tucked him back into his clothes and refastened them.
"I'll take the coffee. When I stay I want it to be because we've planned it, not because it's late."
Kat smiled at this. "Coffee it is."
Chapter 3: Nice Work If You Can Get It
no subject
Despite the sexytimes, I think my favorite part is still her description of Laura's plot. Excellent use of movie recapping to establish character there!:-)
no subject
I'm glad the Laura bit worked! I feel like people do that in real life—I so often use allusions to other things to explain myself, and then I end up thinking about characters in terms of allusions too, and then they end up using them to explain themselves.