#kantfadel

[talistheintrovert]

The Heart Killers Crack 9/?

fadel & kant's dynamic is everything to me

[kevin-the-bruyne]

Fadel having a weak spot for kant is canon imo

IN MY OPINION TOO. Enjoy this thing that no one asked for but I had no other place to put:

[KantFadel; PG]

Summary: Style asks Fadel for a foursome with Bison and Kant. Fadel tackles his biggest hurdle.

“Style asked me to consider a foursome.” Fadel blurts out when his brother and boyfriend mysteriously disappear simultaneously with dubious sounding excuses, “and now we’ve been left alone together. Tell me what Bison told you about it.”

With the way Kant’s face breaks into one of his cocky smiles, he knows he came off more nervous than threatening, the cold beer clutched in his palms do nothing to how clammy they feel having to share this moment, cool sea breeze and clear starlit night, with the most abhorrent man he knows.

“Bison told me nothing about it *Big Brother but-” he pauses to take a little swig of his beer, Fadel wondering if Style has imagined the plump curve of them tracing his body, wrapping around his- “I’m not surprised.” Kant finishes, eyes crinkling into that sheepish smile of his, not tinged with nearly enough fear. 

Fadel hesitates to refill what he considers is a healthy dose of fear that everyone should have of Fadel, maybe that’s why Kant has the audacity to sit with so much ease, long frame spread out lazily across the lounge chair next to his. Then he thinks about Bison from just-really not even half an hour ago- lazily lounging across Kant, just holding hands and caressing each other unbothered by the daggers that Fadel threw in their direction with his eyes. Surely, that must be it; Bison’s high drug tolerance rubbing off on Kant.

“So?” Kant says, when the silence stretches between them, “Curious?”

Fadel hesitates again, which bit him in the ass before, surely Bison must have told Kant how to exploit Fadel’s every weakness, and it's about to bite him in the ass again because–

Kant suddenly rises from his lounger, leaning down a little as he stares down at Fadel. The way he towers, frame lithe and lean though broader than Style in places, curves that invite the eyes to linger, “Or simply eager to give your boyfriend everything he desires?” Kant somehow manages to slide down next to him, all smooth and in control of his size, his biceps bulge as he places one hand on Fadel’s knee.

And that’s perhaps the most incriminating, that Fadel hasn’t moved it, that Fadel is pretending to fight a battle he’s already decided to lose because the opponent–

“So you’re who Style is scheming with. And to think I suspected my–”

“–He came to me and Bison together.” Kant interjects, still relaxed and calm, that cursed palm still searing it’s print onto Fadel’s knee.

“You really want to watch me fuck my brother?” Fadel says, adds, “Your boyfriend.” Kant shrugs and the gesture for a moment has him remove his hand, but it comes back to rest on his thigh this time, long fingers reaching up to the hems of his shorts, “I don’t really judge what consenting adults do. Besides–” the hand slides up, inside his shorts until he can get a good grip of Fadel’s thigh, thumb brushing into his inner thigh, teasing, “–he’s not really your brother.”

“Now you really sound like Style.” Fadel just about manages not to stammer, because Kant is close, those big soulful eyes Bison keeps yammering about growing larger and larger, the freckles on Kant’s face like divine art pointing out the parts of him that are the most lovely.

“Good, you’re into that, right?” One final quirk of those cocky lips before they’re pressed against his, soft but insistent, a promise that if Fadel agrees, it would only offer him a good time. Fadel opens his mouth under the pressure, lets Kant’s tongue slip in, kisses him in that deep, searching intent that he kisses Bison with. For a second he understands the thrill that Bison gets from a lover like Kant, so eager to pleasure him; push him back against the lounger and gently caress his hip as he plunders his mouth lovingly, possessively almost.

They break the kiss with a loud smack, Fadel’s hand on Kant’s collar pushing him away, because Kant is between his legs and Fadel is embarrassingly close to wrapping his legs around his hips. Kant doesn’t need to know all that, but from the way he still smiles in his soft and easy way, Fadel’s heavy breathing has already given him away.

“So?” Kant says, “Was Style right? Am I your type?”

*the Big Brother here refers to Phi Kuey aka the same thing that Kant calls Fadel in the show which is something like Big brother in law. It is as far as I can tell a really normal moniker for Kant to use for Fadel in general. In the fic though he’s doing it to taunt him with the brothers thing because I’m the author lol

[fuck-i-like-too-much-stuff]

not a prompt but a prompt for the truth dare.

A vibe where the sexual tension increases slowly between fadel kant - reciprocated or not

&

Kant style tension with fadel not sure if turned on or jealous or both

&

Style bison exchanging bdsm tips (even up to practical rope examples. Kant fearing for his life in advance 🤣

Anon thank you for the idea. While i do not write smut (or at least dont publish it just yet because my inexperienced ramblings embarrass me in my docs enough)- you have made me want to write a second chapter to this fic!! Thank you