Archive of Our Own

Someone who knows, someone he doesn't have to pretend with, — that the unrelenting glare of cameras, the avid scrutiny of gossip-writers and even, occasionally, the over-entitled fan, aren't wearing, aren't a cost and not just a benefit, not really. Someone who gets that a red carpet is work, even when it's enormous fun; that the glitterati are people under the dazzle and shine.

Finland's version of Big Brother may not be the juggernaut that American Idol is, but it is certainly big enough in Finland for Sauli to have more than a clue.

When Sauli came over to the US after the end of Adam’s tour, before anyone there really knew who he was, who he was really coming to see, before the paparazzi saw him with Adam, or Adam’s sometimes kind of frighteningly well informed and connected fan-base caught a glimpse of him and put the dots together, he and Adam managed to steal a weekend, escaping to a small and sleepy little town on the California coast. (It was right in that middle distance — far enough away to be ‘away’, but not so far as to be really thought of as away, at least not in Hollywood terms.)

The hotel — nice but not four-star, unwatched by gossip-cameras or stalked by people paid by the pixel — was right on the water, and a stone’s throw from the pier that was the pride of the town. It was a beautiful pier, stretching out into the water, lovingly rebuilt, restored and maintained. The first evening they were there, Adam found Sauli leaning out on the railing of the balcony, looking at the lights strung out along it, a glittering line that divided dark water from darkening sky, white as stars.

Sauli’s fair hair gleamed in the twilight, silver-pale, and the sliver of moon floated high above them. Adam could hear the quiet murmur of the waves. It was a moment between — between sea and sky, earth and water, day and night. Sauli smiled up at him, fox-fire-light to watery depth.

It was the most natural thing in the universe for Adam to kiss him.

A forest of pilings surrounded them, roots in the sand, tops like Atlas far overhead supporting the deck of the pier. Sunlight flashed and glittered on the water, chasing the retreating tide. Mid-week, midday, middle of the off-season: the beach all but empty. Adam tugged Sauli deeper into the thicket of columns, down to where soft dry sand gave way to firm dampness, and white barnacles marked the metaled bases like sequins.

When lingering fingers of wave-foam tickled Adam’s feet, he pressed Sauli up against one of the lightly colonized pilings and breathed in his ear as his hands roamed up and down Sauli’s back. “Is here good? What you want?” There was a lot of Sauli available to roam: he was wearing only a speedo, a narrow strip of blue spandex clinging to his hips, barely covering his obvious answer to Adam’s question.

Sauli arched against him, bracing his shoulders against the wood and pressing groin to groin as Adam’s hand slid down his spine and under the elastic to grip his cheek. Then Adam swallowed Sauli’s eager moan with a kiss and slipped his lotion-smooth fingers into the cleft and further, until they rubbed and teased at Sauli’s hole.

“Yes!” Sauli hissed, bucking, wanting more. “God, Adam! Yes!” He curled one leg up around Adam’s and spread himself wider, making room for one finger to be joined by a second, plumbing depths stretched and slick from earlier exercise. Ass and cock pulsed with heat. “Fuck yes, give it to me.”

“Oh, I’ll give it to you alright,” Adam murmured, curling his fingers inside as Sauli whimpered, reaching around to tug the speedo down in front just enough to free Sauli’s gorgeous, rigid cock to rub against Adam’s stomach as his own pressed hard against the cloth behind Sauli’s swiftly tightening balls. “You’re going to come for me, right under this boardwalk.”

With a wordless cry, Sauli shuddered and came, clenching around his fingers, just like that. Absolutely beautiful.

Even on a stolen weekend there was work, just one interview this time, an early radio call-in. Adam had given up worrying about what the DJs or the listeners would think of his I’m-not-really-awake voice sometime back on the Idol tour, but he was careful to make sure that it wasn’t obvious he had a relaxed and sleepy Finn warm at his back, one arm draped over his waist. He’d had to move Sauli’s hand from where it had rested, just so he wasn’t entirely distracted.

Adam enjoyed the short spot, just one segment and a DJ he liked, but it was still a relief to say “Thank you” and hit ‘end call.’ As soon as he did, he had a lapful of not-at-all sleepy Finn pushing him back against the pillows with playful kisses, pushing down the duvet and then nudging Adam’s thighs apart with his knees, so he could nibble down Adam’s front and swallow him whole.

With attention like that to a morning erection it was no surprise at all that Adam was coming in short order, Sauli cheerfully urging him on with lips and tongue and clever fingers. When Adam could think again, he pulled Sauli (grinning and laughing, the imp of a morning-person) up, spooning him back to front so Adam could take him in hand and jerk him off, as teasingly slow as Sauli had been quick.

Adam loved the noises Sauli made, the feel of his cock nestled soft and snug between Sauli’s cheeks, the way he moved in Adam’s hand, thin hot skin over hard need, all happy, eager energy, spilling into his hands with a cry, bursting with joyful life in his arms.

The curtains were open; curled together, sticky and sated, they watched the sun rising in splendor over the pier.