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New Years Eve.
This is their first major performance and it's big, huge! They'll be performing ten songs. Ten. Maybe eleven. Tommy is a liar if he says that he's not nervous about tonight because he is. Very.
Adam is quite particular about how the whole band presents itself not just musically, but visually and with Tommy, he's giving a little extra help. And Tommy? He's eating it all up, taking in everything that Adam does or says, following what he suggests, the advice, anything and basically, everything as long as it comes from Adam. He's been amazing to Tommy and has taken him under his wing, showing him things, teaching him things and it's a wonder no one has clued in on how much of a puppy on a leash Tommy has been. He practically follows Adam around that soon, he thinks, he'll be walking and talking and looking like Adam. Yeah. Tommy is smitten, all right.
"The shirt is nice," Tommy says of the one he now wears under the coat jacket, "but it itches." He has been put on a poufy stool that looks like it belongs in someone's vanity with fancy tassels and rich upholstery that's real smooth and silky to the touch. His eyes are closed and all he can feel are small soft bristles that brush against his eyelid while Adam works to apply some make up on him.
They're almost done and Tommy can't wait to see what he looks like, which is funny because since he's met Adam, he's been a lot more keen on dressing up than he ever has before.
"We all have to suffer for fashion," Adam murmurs as he concentrates on turning Tommy's eyelids purple. "Sit still," he says when Tommy shifts on the stool. "I don't want to poke you in the eye." Adam bites his bottom lip and focuses as hard as he can on the brushes and colours so he doesn't get distracted by the feel of Tommy's skin under his hands: the soft skin of his cheeks, the slightly rough, stubbled skin of his jawline ... Adam pauses for a moment and lets his eyes wander. Just a little bit. Because he can while Tommy's got his eyes closed like that, and there won't be any awkward questions about why Adam's looking at him that way.
Although, sometimes, Adam would swear Tommy's giving him the same look, but ... "There," he says. "Okay. Take a look."
He can smell Adam and with his eyes closed it seems to surround him. Tommy even takes deep breaths and thinks that from now on, he's surely going to associate that smell with Adam.
Slowly, Tommy blinks his eyes open, thick lashes fluttering, feeling the powder on his eyes as his lids crease to open before he looks at Adam's face. He's transfixed for a moment because Adam looks real good still unmade like that. Tommy likes that look on him, too. All natural and shit. His lips curve in a smile and then slowly he rises from his seat with Adam directly in front of him that they bump chests, Tommy chuckling. "Sorry. I wanna see."
Reluctantly he sidesteps Adam, peeking slowly in the mirror with Adam blocking his reflection and the first thing he sees are his eyes. "Wow." Tommy says in awe, word whispered. He looks different. Better. The purple and blue shadow lined with black around it really makes his eyes stand out. His lips look puckered, shiny with a little color, a little gloss and his hair! He touches it gingerly, fingertips sliding down to follow the blue streak and his smile widens. "Wow."
"Careful," Adam says, reluctantly stepping back so Tommy can see the full effect. "Don't touch, okay? I don't want you to fuck up the pretty." Adam studies Tommy's face carefully, telling himself that he's just looking for flaws in the makeup, but if it gives him an excuse to perv a little bit, well ... Adam's not stupid. He's not going to turn that down.
Eyes ... the colour looks good. Eyelashes. Those. Fucking. Eyelashes. Adam narrows his eyes, and now he is scrutinizing a little bit, but yeah. Tommy looks good. He's dressed simply: black jeans; shirt, black jacket. Adam will be the focus of the concert for sure, once his stylist arrives to help him put his look together. Tommy's pared down, with all the focus on his face that Adam's oh-so-carefully put together. Adam's eyes wander idly a little further down to Tommy's neck, where he can see a few tiny hairs poking up over his shirt, and Adam absently rubs his hands on the front of his jeans, because he has a near-irresistible urge to reach out and tug on those hairs; see what Tommy would do.
"Nice. Very nice, Tommy. You'll do," Adam says, teasing lightly and turning his head when he hears the door. "That'll be the stylist. Wait here, okay?"
Tommy nods mutely, still staring at the mirror but his eyes wander to Adam's reflection, not his. He watches him move, walk toward then out the door, biting his bottom lip to suppress some incoherent sound that wants to crawl out of his throat. He looks back at himself in the mirror and then he slowly blows out a breath, inhaling deep to keep a handle on himself but all he can smell is Adam's scent that seems to hover all around him.
Leaning on the counter, his hands feel something cool to the touch. Tommy looks down and sees a variety of accessories there and he smiles. He's seen Adam wear some of these and carefully he touches them, fingertips grazing lightly over the many rings, the cuffs and bracelets, necklaces, all of them either leather or metal or a mix of both. He lifts one from the pile, cocking his head and as soon as he realizes what it is, he laughs, the sound echoing in the small room and bouncing back toward him, loud and amused.
Adam can hear Tommy laughing at something as he walks down the hallway to answer the door, but shrugs it off. Nerves, probably. He lets his stylist in and says 'hello' in typical Adam-fashion: "I want to look like a firework tonight." Anna doesn't even blink. She sets down her magic back of tricks as Adam calls it, and pulls him in for a hug. "Hello to you, too. A firework, huh? We'd better get to work, then."
Adam leads the way back to his room saying over his shoulder, "Tommy's here. I wanted to make sure he looked right, so I did his makeup for him. He looks good, even though I do say so myself," and okay, so maybe Adam's a little smug about how good Tommy looks, but Anna just laughs and pokes him in the back. "I'll be the judge of that, okay? Stealing my job like that ..."
Her voice fades away when they enter Adam's room and see what Tommy's holding in his hand. Adam stares for a moment, feeling something dark and wanting flare up that he hasn't felt for anyone in a long time. He bites his lip before he says, as lightly as he can, "Well, you can wear that if you want, Tommy, but I think I might have something better for tonight."
He has the thing - the cockring - in his hand, the leather end pinched between his fingers and the ring sways back and forth as it dangles at the other end. Tommy is mesmerized by the slow back and forth of the silver ring, his mind wandering to many, many thoughts, one dirtier than the next. Like if Adam actually uses it, like, on someone's dick, or maybe he'll let Tommy use it on his own? Tommy also wonders how the ring feels if he ever tries it out around his--
"What?" Did Adam just suggest that he wear the cockring? Tommy's eyes blow wide as he whips his head up to look at Adam. "Uh," he puts the cockring down and slowly, the metal ring giving a sharp clink on the counter and then Tommy steps back. He raises a hand in greeting, smiling at Anna and then getting out of the way. "What do you mean?" He faces Adam, blinking, still feeling the thickness of the make up on his lids as he slinks slowly off to one side to give Adam and the stylist a lot of room.
"I mean, it's a glove. You wear it on your hand. But I think that'd interfere with your playing tonight. Although if you wanted to wear it somewhere else ..." Adam does his best to keep his tone light, but he saw he saw that ... something flash through Tommy's eyes. Like maybe he's thinking about it ... shit. No. Not tonight. Jesus, Adam, focus! Tonight's a big deal for all of them - not just him; not just Tommy - the whole band. "Uh, never mind. Look -" he sorts through the necklaces on the counter quickly, picking up the heavy pendant he'd worn for his album shoot. "Here. Put this on. It'll look good on you."
Anna glances up from where she's set her bag down on Adam's bed by the stool Tommy had been sitting on. "He's right. Try it on. Let's see."
...wear it somewhere else...
Tommy, for a few beats, stares at Adam, listening to what he says, his mind providing the visual of seeing that glove not on his hand but on his--no! He's not going to think of that. He can't think of that. He blinks rapidly, and then looks at the necklace that Adam has in his hand, taking a few steps forward to close the distance between them, looking at the necklace and then his long, dark lashes fan up and he looks back at Adam's eyes.
He reaches for it but not before brushing his hair away from his face. "You want me to wear this?" The necklace, Tommy knows, Adam has used in a couple of pictures of from his CD jacket. "Are you sure?" Tommy lets his fingers trail down the leather, the blunt points of the studs tickling his fingertips. He ends up looking at the large stone, cocking his head to the side to see the light play with the color once the stone catches it, looking blue one way and green the other. It's beautiful.
Smiling wider, nodding his head, Tommy meets Adam's eyes again. "Will you put it on me? See if it looks okay with all this?" He gestures to his clothes, his make up, thinking suddenly that maybe he shouldn't have asked that because Adam? He knows what looks good. Anna does too.
Adam takes the necklace, running it through his fingers and studying the clasp, buying a little time. He swallows once, hard at the thought of putting the necklace around Tommy's neck, and has to stop and ask himself: why the big deal? It's just a necklace. He's just borrowing it. He's - mine. Adam starts a little and shoots a glance at Anna, sitting on the bed and watching him with a puzzled, slightly amused look on her face. No, no, no. He can't. He can't go there. Not with Tommy. But that look ... that look ... Adam fucking knows that look.
Adam shakes his head and undoes the clasp, carefully laying the necklace around Tommy's neck, studiously avoiding touching his skin. He pulls back with an effort, his hands itching to rest on Tommy's shoulders, and slide up -
"There," he says, cutting off his own thoughts. Mine. "That - looks good. Now get out of here, okay? Go get yourself a beer or something while I get ready. They're in the fridge. Gotta keep the magic transformation secret," Adam says as lightheartedly as he can, although it comes out a little tight, like he's got a knot in his throat.
Tommy stares at his reflection in the mirror, eyes on the necklace around his neck, watching the light catch the stone and make it shimmer brilliantly. He smiles crookedly, meeting Adam's gaze and he swears he sees something there. Something dark and intense that both scare him and intrigue him but it's just a flicker and then it's gone.
"I like it. Uh ... thanks." The smile slides into a smirk and then he looks at Anna, then back at Adam. "I wanna stay. I want to see what it takes to take you from this," which isn't bad at all , "to whatever it is you're going to end up as." Tommy even waves his hand around, gesturing in the air.
Adam lets out a startled laugh because, shit, Tommy's nothing if not constantly surprising. It's not the first time Adam's noticed the claws on the scrappy little alley cat. "Alright, but stay out of Anna's way. She gets mad if you interrupt the magic," Adam says, letting out a surprised "oof!" when she swats him in the stomach.
"You," she says, pointing at Tommy. "Sit. You might think he's kidding, but he's not." Anna studies Tommy for a moment, nodding. "Yeah, you'll do. Right. You. Sit. And sit still or this is going to take twice as long as it should," Anna says to Adam, who perches on the stool Tommy had been sitting on, stealing a glance as Tommy settles on the bed, watching. Adam's eyes linger on the necklace for a moment, resting heavy against Tommy's thin chest. Adam's tongue flicks out unconsciously for a second, because God ... he really does want to fuck up Tommy's pretty.
Anna taps him on the cheek and says, "Hey, you. Focus. Come on."
"Sorry," Adam says, completely unrepentant as he flashes Tommy a quick, wide grin before submitting to Anna's attention.
A quick and quiet thanks he offers to Anna and glad she approves of what he's wearing, which is understandable given that Adam helped Tommy pick out the clothes. He even fished in his own closet for something Tommy can wear. Giving Adam a smile in return, one of his almost there smiles that doesn't quite make it all the way, he then sits on the edge of the bed, taking his eyes off Adam only to shrug his jacket off and lay it out neatly beside him.
The necklace bounces on his chest as he moves and the weight of it is foreign, and heavy. Tommy touches it, letting the pendant roll between his fingers as he gazes over at Adam's reflection. Adam stares back at him with that look in his eyes again and for some reason he feels a tremble run up his spine. The look is hot enough that he can feel the heat radiating from those eyes.
Anna begins to do her 'magic' and the transformation is slow, a little tedious with the hair and the make-up but the results? They're amazing. Tommy can't keep his eyes away from Adam's face and that heat he feels earlier? It's a constant simmer of warmth all over his body that makes him fidget in his seat.
Adam flicks a gaze to Tommy before Anna murmurs for him to close his eyes, and the image of Tommy's face is burned on Adam's retinas like the afterimage of a photograph. Those eyes ... Adam indulges himself a little bit as Anna works on his face methodically, imagining what those dark, pretty eyes would look like if Adam really got to have his way with Tommy - not on stage, but behind closed doors ... no interruptions ... "Open your eyes," Anna says, suddenly disrupting Adam's daydream, and honestly, that's not a bad thing, because if he keeps going down that road, he's going to be in ... a situation.
Adam flutters his eyes open carefully; he can feel the heavy makeup and doesn't want to smudge everything. Wow. Oh wow. He's shining. Turning to Tommy he says, "What d'you think? That works, right?"
In watching and waiting, Tommy has since gotten on the bed, legs curling to near his chest, head propped on his hand as he lies on his side so he can see the progress of how Adam is being made up by Anna. He watches all this come together with curiosity and amazement and awe. Anna's hands move deftly and surely on Adam's face and the end result is what he's now staring at.
Tommy can't seem to look away, his eyes locking with Adam's, warm as he looks at him. "It's - wow. You look - amazing." The smile on Tommy's lips seem to bloom, widen, a rare bright smile, not stifled but relaxed and easy.
He then gets up and walks over to take a closer look, body seemingly having a mind of its own because in his head he can still hear Anna's warning of staying there on the edge of the bed and sit. As he nears he hunches over (probably the first time he'd ever had a chance to hunker down to be closer to Adam), eyes moving over Adam's face, hand reaching out, a fingertip wanting to touch the rhinestones that are shimmering bright around Adam's eyes. "That'll look awesome on stage and in pictures, too," Tommy murmurs low, soft.
Adam catches Tommy's hand around the wrist as he reaches out to touch Adam's face. "It'll look more awesome if you keep your hands to yourself," Adam says, keeping himself as still as he can, because now Anna's starting on his hair, her deft fingers working expertly, digging into his scalp. Without meaning to, not really, Adam tightens his grip on Tommy's wrist for a moment, searching his face for a reaction, waiting for him to try and tug it out of Adam's grasp.
He does tug, albeit weakly, as if testing to see if Adam is going to let him go. He doesn't and Tommy gives it just a little bit more force only to feel those fingers dig deeper into the tender skin around his wrist and he stops trying, still staring at Adam. What is that? That look in Adam's eyes. It looks challenging, dangerous. Tommy is caught in that stare, those eyes, unable to drag his own eyes away and it makes his heart thump just a little bit harder in his chest.
One more and Tommy narrows his eyes, his lips downturned in a frown and then he gives it another go, pulling on his arm so that Adam will release him. "Hands to myself. I got it."
Adam doesn't take his eyes off Tommy's face, even as he tries to free his wrist. Adam merely holds on tighter, searching, searching ... there. There it is. It flashes so fast in Tommy's dark eyes as Adam grips his wrist that he's sure Tommy's not aware of it: a dark flash that's more need than want and Adam grins suddenly, bright and predatory, even as he lets Tommy go.
Tommy turns and walks back toward the bed wrapping his own fingers around his now tender wrist. The spell from earlier is now broken only to be replaced with something else. Something darker that suddenly haunts Tommy's mind, something that seems to speak to something primal inside.
"Did I hurt you? Sorry," Adam says mildly, even as Anna scratches his scalp slightly, like a warning, or a what the fuck are you doing, Adam? and that's the trouble with hiring old friends: sometimes they know you a little too well. He watches Tommy perch on the bed again, studying his wrist, turning it over. God, if Anna weren't here ... if it weren't for the show tonight ... Adam bites his bottom lip, images of what he could do to pretty little Tommy flickering through his mind. He swallows back a frustrated groan and eyes the pants of his suit hanging on the back of the door. Yeah ... no. He can't go there. Not if he wants to get into those pants any time soon.
"Okay," Anna says, breaking the thick, weighted silence. "I think I'm done. Go put your suit on, and we can see the full effect." Adam slides off the stool, stealing another glance at Tommy, but he's not looking at Adam at all now. "Hey," he says, sliding a finger under Tommy's chin and tilting his head up. "You okay?"
There is no other choice but to look up at Adam and as soon as he tilts his face up, Tommy looks past him, trying to avoid falling into that gaze, afraid to see that look in Adam's eyes again. That dark and predatory look that made his insides roil with something he's too afraid to examine.
"I'm okay," Tommy responds, the sound of his voice a bit clipped and he looks down again. His pale wrist show a bit of a red line around it from Adam's fingers. It is now darker on his skin and what's surprising to him is that he likes seeing that mark there, that he'd rather that stay so he can look at it all night as he plays. He looks up and pushes all those thoughts away. "Anna said to put your suit on. I can--" Tommy stands up, the hand with the slightly bruised wrists pointing toward the door. "... leave. Uh, I'll wait outside."
Adam frowns when Tommy won't meet his eyes. He wants to ask Tommy what's really going on, but they're not alone, and they're running out of time. His gaze shifts to the darkening line on Tommy's wrist, feeling the same dark and predatory thing well up like oil seeping to the surface. Mine. Lightly he feathers his fingers over the mark; resisting the urge to press in again. He pulls back and studies Tommy's face for a moment, searching for clues. Far enough, for now he thinks.
"Go ahead. I'll be out in a few, okay?" Adam turns and takes the suit carefully off the back of the door, laying it out on the bed, and chatting to Anna, still watching Tommy out of the corner of his eye.
Tommy grabs his jacket and as he pads toward the door he can feel that gaze boring through him as if Adam is looking directly at him though Tommy knows he's not. The downy hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he passes through the open door, not even daring to look over his shoulder, not really ready to know what he can possibly find if he ever again meets Adam's eyes.
He paces in the living room, thinking, wondering why he's feeling the way he's feeling just from one look from Adam and the way Adam grabs his wrist. Tommy knows he has to shake it off. They have a performance and the nerves he feels for that have already been cast aside with this one now taking precedence.
Looking down at his wrist, he touches the mark, follows the line with the tip of a finger and he shivers this time and then a spike of need rushes warm in his blood. What the hell is that? He doesn't know how he can define it and he tries to shake it off his mind.
Waiting patiently, still pacing, Tommy talks himself down, a conversation, no, a debate going on in his head. Adam has been amazing to him and he focuses on that and not that dark look that seems to already haunt him that he feels like he's dreaming wide awake. He thinks it's best to get back to the way they have always been, act like he normally does. After a good long while, that is what he decides. There is no need to be afraid or, more accurately, be intrigued by what he experienced earlier in Adam's room. That look. The almost possessive touch.
Adam can feel Anna's eyes on him as he unbuttons his shirt and slides it off, before picking up his shirt for the performance. "What?" he asks, turning to the mirror. He's right about the pants, but they're on and zipped, so that's something. Anna loops the tie around his neck and deftly knots it, pinning the tiepin in place. "I saw the way you were looking at him, Adam. And I'm all for it if he makes you happy. But be careful. That's all. Just - go slow. You can be a little ... overwhelming."
Adam pulls a face at her as he buttons his waistcoat and reaches for his jacket, carefully checking himself out in the mirror. Yeah. He's fucking shiny; the light in the room glinting off the rhinestones around his eyes. "Perfect. Thank you."
Anna rolls her eyes as she packs her bag up. "I'll let myself out. See you at the show."
Adam waves at her absently, straightening his waistcoat before heading into the living room. He checks his phone for the time and yeah, it's time to get the show on the road. He leans on the door of the living room, watching Tommy pace. His phone buzzes, and it's Lane telling him that the car is there. As Tommy jumps and turns around, surprised to suddenly see Adam there, Adam says, keeping his tone carefully neutral, "You ready to go?"
Taking in a deep breath, Tommy looks at Adam and then he approaches slowly, carefully. Like a cat padding around, before he nuzzles his head against Adam's chest. He isn't going to mess this up. Adam has been too good to him and he will not let the mix of feelings he has right now strain this relationship. "I'm sorry about earlier," he says, voice soft, quiet. "Didn't mean to touch but--" He looks up, hair falling over his eyes and then he tips his head up and pushes on his toes, kissing Adam on the lips before murmuring, "you look really good." Really good.
Adam rubs his hands down Tommy's arms, taking the apology and the kiss - sweet and brief - for what they are; Tommy trying to put them back on steady footing. "Thank you," he says, gently pushing Tommy back a little and rubbing at his now slightly glossy bottom lip with his thumb. "You've got a little ... there." Adam lets his thumb linger for a moment, his other hand still on Tommy's arm, his eyes fixed to Tommy's face. "We're okay, Tommy. Let's get this show on the road!"
And Adam can't conceal his excitement, his face breaking into a broad, bright grin as he absently takes Tommy's hand and leads him out of the house to the waiting car. After all the bullshit of the past month, Adam's ready to fucking - let loose and let the chips fall where they may. He holds the car door open and quirks an eyebrow at Tommy, waiting.
It's like Adam's thumb is still touching his bottom lip, the way it kind of tingles with the feel of it lingering. He looks at Adam and then he touches his wrist, no need to see the mark left there because he knows it's there and he can still feel the tightness of Adam's grip. Tommy climbs in the car and sits next to Adam, feeling this sudden need to press close to him, rub his face on Adam's chest and to stay close, the urge seems to be on instinct.
But then, in the car, all Tommy does is sit there, turning his face up at Adam and smiling. "Tonight's going to be awesome." He's convinced of this now, no longer nervous because he has something else that's taken over his mind. Something that he, quite possibly, should be more nervous about even if he tries his damndest to push that thought away to concentrate on the upcoming show.
Tommy's excitement is infectious and Adam pulls him against his side, curling an arm around him as the car pulls out of the driveway.
"Yeah, Tommy Joe. It is going to be awesome," Adam says, liking the slight press of Tommy's weight against his side, and he imagines what Tommy's pulse must feel like right now: how fast it would race if Adam were to press his hand against Tommy's wrist, really marking him. Adam closes his eyes for a moment, indulging his imagination; letting it wander to what else might look good around Tommy's wrist ... he starts and opens his eyes, because, fuck, that's pretty, but now is not the time.
"Gonna see out the old year in style," Adam says, getting excited and a little nervous for the show ahead of them.
It seems like Tommy feels what Adam is thinking. He closes his fingers around his wrist again, placing his hands over his lap, his eyes looking straight ahead, the movement instinctive, almost. Like he has no control over how his hand touches his wrist. It feels warm, throbbing though the thin sleeve that's hooked into his thumb and the most bizarre thing of all -- it feels bereft of Adam's touch.
Slightly he turns his head toward Adam, smiling, nodding, and yeah, he pushes those other thoughts away again. Tommy watches Adam's face carefully in case he sees that look there, part of him afraid to see it and another louder part of him wanting to catch another glimpse.
"You nervous?" Tommy asks softly, his shoulders dropping, relaxing, leaning slightly against Adam's shoulder, aching for contact as the car's engine hums and they roll down the Los Angeles streets.
Adam smooths his thumb over the fabric of Tommy's jacket, just resisting the impulse to slide it under and touch skin. "A little. More excited than nervous I think? After all the bullshit after the AMAs, it feels like we're starting over. Clean slate," Adam says, going over the set list in his mind as he stares out the window. The car pulls up backstage, to drop Tommy off before taking him around to the red carpet. "See you on stage, Tommy Joe," Adam says as Tommy slides out of the car.
But then Tommy hesitates and then he crawls over the seat enough to lean up against Adam, bracing his hands on Adam's shoulders, the beads of his jacket digging into his palms. "I'll see you later. Now go have fun with your adoring public." A quick kiss on Adam's lips, then a small smile, and then Tommy does, finally, slide out of the car. He stands there biting his bottom lip as he waves at the darkly tinted window where he hopes Adam is looking as he watches the car pull off the curb.
If Adam isn't nervous but excited about the show, Tommy can do that, too. He'll have to force all those other thoughts away to the very back of his mind because now? It's showtime. Time to rock and roll.
The show's amazing Fucking amazing, and Adam feels like - for one night at least - he's laid some demons to rest. He's sure he'll be asked about the AMAs again - and again, but for now ... for now all he's interested in is working off the adrenaline that's buzzing through his body like the bubbles in the glass of champagne someone's given him.
The band's buzzing too, halfway to drunk and celebrating the new year the right way. And Adam hasn't really had the chance to see Tommy drunk before, but he's witnessing it now, and it's kind of ... cute, almost. Tommy's a no-personal-space drunk. He's snuggling up to everyone and telling them very seriously about what a great night it's been.
Tommy comes over and leans against Adam for a moment, closing his eyes. Adam reaches out and pushes his fringe back, saying: "You okay?"
"Mmm," Tommy nods his head, smiling as he nuzzles his cheek against Adam's chest. "Tonight was great. It really was." He kind of likes it there, that spot right on Adam's chest. It's like he fits perfectly there and Tommy deeply wishes he can stay for the rest of the night this way but he knows that it's not possible.
Even in a drunken haze, he is aware of how important Adam is. How he's shuffled from one spot to another, meeting people, talking, business mixed with a few drinks that Adam won't be able to get away from. It's okay, really. Because Adam has allowed him to snuggle up like this even while he's talking to some suits. But now it's time for Tommy to move on, too, so he looks up and smiles blearily at Adam, closing his eyes briefly and nuzzling one more time before pulling away from him reluctantly. "Just checkin' in," Tommy finally says, a little slurred, after getting his fill of feeling Adam close.
Adam smiles, enjoying the feeling of Tommy leaning against him, even if he's only doing it of his own accord because he's drunk. And all Adam wants right now is to grab Tommy by the wrist again, drag him out of this party that Adam's rapidly losing interest in and - one of the suits he's been talking to, trying to be nice for the label's sake - cuts in on his thoughts with a random, lame question. He lays a hand on Tommy's back for a moment saying, "Okay, baby. Go have fun. I'll talk to you later." Tommy indulges in one last, lingering look at him before walking away.
Adam takes a large gulp of wine and tries his best to look interested in what the guy is saying as the night stretches out.
Tommy is like Mr. Fucking Social Butterfly or whatever the fuck you call it. He's mingling, talking to people, even to fans outside even if he can't remember shit about what they tell him, even what he says. Maybe he kissed some random chick, too. He kind of remembers that. A little. But what he does remember is coming up to Adam a couple more times during the course of the party getting him alone at one point, snuggling up and kissing him again. Those, he remembers quite vividly.
Later in the night Tommy is outside again, talking to more random people, a little bummed that the buzz he had is slowly ebbing away at the pleasant numbness his body feels. He begins to feel a little restless now, unable to decide if he wants a few more drinks or maybe he just needs another dose of being close to Adam. He's like a drug or something, Tommy is realizing. He's not yet sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
Adam keeps tabs on Tommy without really meaning to, his eyes wandering at any given opportunity they catch a flash of blond or dark hair, and he happens to be looking out of the window when he sees Tommy - is he kissing a girl? Adam's hand tightens on his glass for a moment, and his teeth clench before he gets himself under control. Because he'd have an awful lot of explaining to do if he just marched out there and dragged Tommy away by his hair ... Adam shifts as his suit suddenly becomes uncomfortably tight, and he's very thankful for the tails on the jacket.
He tells himself it's just more of Tommy being ... drunk. Hell, he's even kissed Adam a couple of times, which Adam's not going to complain about, Tommy's a good kisser, and he's sweet and pliant when he's drunk, making Adam wonder what he'd be like stone cold sober. But this - this possessiveness that keeps coming up - Adam's not sure what to do about that. He knows what he'd like to do ...
Finally, the party winds down, and Adam's ready to leave. He exits the venue trailed by God-knows-who when he realises that Tommy's missing. Oh, no, Adam thinks. He's not going to go home with some ... girl. Adam won't allow it. He catches sight of Tommy's hair and calls out: "Tommy. Tommy! We're leaving," his tone brooking no argument as he beckons.
There's something about Adam's voice, that finger that slowly curls to call him and the look in his eyes as Adam demands Tommy's attention. It takes a few beats before he snaps out of his stupor, staring back at Adam and finally saying, "Okay," and then Tommy quickly follows after him.
Adam doesn't even look back and Tommy has to jog to keep up. Something passes through his body as he remembers Adam's voice and a shiver shot down his spine. It calls on something primal inside Tommy that his mind and body responds in the most surprising way. Hot and wanting and just from the way Adam called on him; the same reaction he had earlier when Adam grabbed his wrist and stared at him. God, Tommy wants to know what this is and why this is. He looks at the back of Adam's head as he walks with the whole entourage, finally getting to the car and Tommy stands there blinking and trying to figure out if Adam still wants him there for the ride back to wherever he plans on going.
Adam sticks his head out the door and frowns when he sees Tommy just standing there. He's impatient, tired and a little drunk still. And Tommy has really been fucking with his head tonight. "Tommy, come on! Not gonna wait all night for your skinny ass! Get in the fucking car!" Adam watches as Tommy jumps a little, before clumsily climbing into the back seat. Adam deliberately curls his hand around the wrist he left marks on earlier, pressing in as hard as he can.
"It's time to go home, Tommy Joe," he whispers right into Tommy's ear.
It's like a jolt of something electric and hot and it makes Tommy tremble. Adam's voice. Adam's words. They do things to him that shoves all that intoxicated numbness into something else. Something raw that seems to wake something deep inside both needy and wanting.
Tommy looks at Adam with wide eyes, then his gaze flicks to his wrist, twisting it, trying instinctively to get away. But does he really want to pull away?
No.
He can hear his own breath hitch with each inhale, and then his eyes slip shut and Tommy let instinct take over. He moves toward Adam, pressing his body against him, succumbing to the physical pull he's been so long feeling, the one he's spent all night fighting.
"Then take me home." Tommy turns his head and blinks, looking at Adam with an intense need that seems to brighten his eyes. "Take me," he whispers then, slowly lowering his head and his eyes, giving in. "Take me."
Adam swallows hard and thinks, oh, God, involuntarily tightening his grip on Tommy's wrist for a second. Slowly and carefully he lets go, taking a deep breath. He knows Tommy's not talking about going home. He also knows that Tommy's drunk and Adam's not going to take advantage of that. He's not. At least - not until Tommy sobers up, anyway. He slides a finger under Tommy's chin and tilts his head up for a moment, forcing him to look Adam in the eye, although the sight of Tommy like that ... almost ... submissive ... Mine.
"You're drunk," Adam says as gently as he can. "I'll take you home with me, but that's all for now, Tommy. If you want what I think you want - I need you to know what's happening, okay?"
He is drunk but it's no longer on all that alcohol he drank but something else. Something - he still doesn't quite understand. And God, he wants. Tommy's full lips press into a thin line and then he leans more against Adam, his head on his chest, slowly rubbing his cheek on Adam's suit jacket, breathing him in, remembering that smell and it drives him crazy inside.
"Okay," Tommy concedes, closing his eyes, his hand wrapping around his wrist tight because he wants to feel that again - what Adam did - the grip around his wrist possessive and he likes how that makes him feel. Like he belongs ... somewhere ... or to ... someone. "Just take me home with you," he whispers against Adam's suit.
See, Tommy has been following Adam around, looking up at him with awe and wonder. He's been doing everything Adam wants of him, too, but now he is the one who wants something and the compulsion is strong to ask for it. He bites his bottom lip instead and stays quiet. Breathing. In and out. In and out. Adam's scent surrounding him again, thick in the air around them.
Adam leans his head - kind of spinning now, and not just from the free booze - against the back of the car, closing his eyes. He slides his hand under Tommy's jacket and -after a moment's hesitation - under Tommy's shirt, pressing into the smooth skin just above Tommy's jeans with his thumb. Adam pushes his tongue against the back of his teeth and presses in with his thumb again - a little harder this time, looking down to gauge Tommy's reaction.
He's leaning against Adam with his eyes closed now, probably passed out, Adam tells himself, caught by the shadows Tommy's lashes are throwing on his cheeks. The driver pulls into the driveway of Adam's house, stopping by the front door. Adam nudges Tommy gently and says, "C'mon. We're here. Let's get you to bed, okay? We can ... talk ... tomorrow."
But Tommy doesn't want to talk tomorrow. Fuck it. He doesn't want to talk at all. But he lifts his head and blinks back the drunken haze and for a beat he stares into Adam's face. He nods once and then unfurls himself from the way he's curled around Adam, slinking across the seat to open the door and get out of the car. He stands there, like a lost little puppy, waiting until Adam is out of the car, and opening the front door.
Once they get inside, he can feel the loud pounding of his heart. He's here at Adam's and they'll talk tomorrow -- then it dawns on him -- he's staying the night. He hopes he'll be staying in Adam's bed which is - now that the haze is slowly beginning to clear - what he wants so desperately anyway.
"Tonight was fun," he said, trying to make simple conversation, have Adam speak to him more than he did at that damned party. "Fucking amazing. Out in style, just like you said it would be."
Adam grins and says, "It was fun. Just what we all needed to clear the bullshit. Perfect way to start the new year. Now, come on," Adam says, reaching out and taking Tommy's hand, tugging on it slightly until Tommy's leaning against him. He's warm, and pliant like this, and ... drunk Adam reminds himself, sighing a little. The things he wants to do to Tommy Joe right now ... when he's so ... He should be responsible and put Tommy to bed in one of the guest rooms, but he feels so good, leaning against Adam, his lashes fanning his cheeks when his eyes flutter closed, and ... God, the way he's been tonight - he'd do anything Adam told him right now. Adam feels his dick twitch at the thought, and it's oh-so-attractive ... "Bed," he says, his voice just a little strangled.
"We both need to get some sleep." Adam winds their fingers together and leads Tommy up the stairs, thinking oh, fuck it before leading Tommy to his bedroom.
This really feels nice, Tommy thinks, smiling through his drunken haze. Adam is larger and warm and he smells really good and he's leading Tommy through hallways and corridors that it makes him a little dizzy. Sluggishly Tommy lifts his head and looks around, recognizing Adam's bedroom from earlier that night. Or last night. Shit. He's still kind of drunk and can't really remember much anymore but then, realizing suddenly where he is sobers him up quickly.
Tommy then pulls a little away from Adam, still clutching tight and gazes up at him. "I'm staying here?" Which comes out like a question when Tommy's real intention is to say that, yes, he wants to stay here. With Adam. He is staying here in this bedroom, this bed, with Adam. So, to make that a lot more clear, Tommy sidles up in front of Adam, pressing against his chest, long dark lashes fanning up to look at Adam's face.
"You said," Tommy's voice is soft, low, "you need me to know what's happening." He continues to stare into Adam's face, meets his eyes that still looks amazingly put together with the make up hours old on his face.
"I know what's happening. I know." And this time, Tommy dares to touch one of those shimmering rhinestones glued around Adam's eyes, the exact same thin he did earlier that made Adam grip his wrist tight. "Tell me what's going to happen now..."
Adam's tongue flicks out for a second, wetting his lips, a dozen scenarios flicking through his mind as Tommy touches his face. He settles for wrapping his hand around Tommy's wrist again, applying even more pressure, and tangling his other hand in Tommy's long fringe, pulling on it hard until Tommy has to tilt his face up to meet Adam's eyes. "What's going to happen now," Adam says, his voice low and dangerous as his dick hardens and he tugs on Tommy's hair again. "Is this," and without warning or preamble, Adam lowers his mouth on Tommy's while still gripping his wrist and holding on to his hair. The kiss is rough and deep, Adam thrusting his tongue hard into Tommy's mouth and rocking his hips forward slightly.
Tommy's lips open up, parting on a sharp gasp, letting Adam take the kiss while his own body reacts and pushes even more against Adam's solid chest, his hips jutting forward, too.
Adam lets go of Tommy briefly and pushes him - almost gently - back on to the bed before landing over him, his hands braced by Tommy's head. He takes both of Tommy's wrists this time, pinning them above Tommy's head, easily encircling them with one large hand. Adam's so fucking hard, and the dark and wild thing that he'd tamped down for so long because Drake didn't play that way, is threatening to ignite right here and now. His eyes roam Tommy's body, limp on the bed, his dark eyes wide, but wanton, and his mouth red and parted, like he's already answered any questions Adam might have.
Already Tommy's chest heaves, rising and falling as he pulls oxygen slowly, deeply in his lungs. He has to, as he stares at Adam's face, sees that look in his eyes again and he feels his heart thump loud and hard in his chest. Those eyes look intense, like a predator that just pounced on his prey, hungry and ready to devour. It should scare Tommy. It should. But it doesn't.
Tommy's tilts his head back as far as he can, eyes flicking up, looking at where Adam pinned his hands and then weakly he tugs on his arms, testing them and Tommy only feels Adam's hold on his wrist tighten, push down harder.
It's then that Tommy realizes and now he knows that this is it - that dangerous look in Adam's eyes - this is what it means. It's right here and it's going to happen right now. He feels his cock throb, getting harder, almost painful in the way he aches, fucking aches for Adam to do what that look threatens to do and he can no longer wait. The whole night had been a long fucking wait already. So, wih soft words, Tommy utters, "tell me." His voice comes out shaky, too soft, so he tries again, meeting Adam's eyes with his own dark and needy. "Tell me ... what happens now."
"What happens now?" Adam asks, pushing Tommy's wrists hard into the bed, and palming his cock roughly with the other, rubbing against the denim of Tommy's jeans. He studies Tommy for a moment, writhing under Adam's hands, pushing up.
"Lie still, Tommy," Adam says, low and warning in his ear. "I'm going to tie you to this bed, and I'm going to fuck you. That's how this is going to go." Adam pushes his hand against Tommy's cock again, smiling against Tommy's neck before nipping it, hard.
"And you need to decide right now if this is what you want, Tommy Joe. Because I'm not playing, here. I'm not talking about a drunk one-night stand. I want - everything. Is this what you want?"
The look in Adam's eyes, the timbre in his voice makes Tommy tremble. His chest is heaving, his eyes are dark and wild and wanting and then he nods his head in understanding.
Something inside him tells him to trust, because he always trusts Adam, no question. It's not so different now. Tommy relaxes under the grip, under Adam, and then those purple-shadowed eyes flutter closed, Tommy taking in a breath, finding his voice that seems to have caught in his throat. "I-I want this." He says, words quivering that he has to clear his throat and try again. "I want you, Adam." With more conviction. "Been thinking of you ... of this for, like, a while now." And since he's found his voice, the words don't stop. "I don't know what the fuck I'm doing but I know I want ... I-I want you to ... I want you to ... do anything you want with me."
Because Tommy is Adam's. That's what that grip to his wrist feels like, and now, here, right there above Tommy, it still feels the same...
Possession. Ownership.
It hits Tommy all at once and then he pants for breath, feeling like he's drowning in want and need and it's only Adam that can save him.
Anything you want ... Adam is so painfully hard, suddenly, that he can't fucking think.
He stumbles off the bed and pulls Tommy up by the heavy pendant. "Strip," he says, low and demanding. "But leave this on. Make it quick, Tommy," Adam says, scrambling out of his own clothes as fast as he can, while watching Tommy strip. He needs ... he needs ... Adam stares for a moment at Tommy, standing naked, his cock half-hard and flushed, and his skin ... so pale ... just asking to be marked. Oh, God.
Adam turns to his dresser and finds the cock-ring. Yes. Mine, he thinks, dark and oh, God. He pulls open the nightstand drawer and pulls out a pair of leather cuffs, lube and a condom. He drops them on the bed along with the cuffs, and crooks a finger, the cock-ring dangling from his other hand.
"Come here, Tommy."
Now is not the time to think is what Tommy tells himself as he looks at the things thrown on the bed. His eyes widen as he sees both the cockring and the cuffs and then suddenly Tommy can't remember how to breathe. Each intake of air after that is hitched and quivering but his big brown eyes still meet Adam's gaze and Tommy stares into them, nodding almost imperceptibly and then he wills his feet to move.
One foot in front of the other. Don't think. Just do. And fuck if he's going to change his mind now or scurry out of the room with his tail between his legs. Fuck no. And so Tommy steels himself for what he knows is about to happen. Adam has already taught him so many things, why not this, too? Besides, Tommy wanted it. Badly. Fucking badly.
Tommy has to admit he's a little afraid if this, of the unknown that his cock softens as he stares at the cockring and the cuffs and that look in Adam's eyes. He swallows, hard, breath still hitching in his chest and his body temperature, he swears, rose several degrees warmer just at the thought of Adam finally touching him there. Touching him and putting on that cockring. Fuck! It's exciting and frightening at the same time.
Adam smiles and smooths a hand over Tommy's hair, pushing back his fringe. He can feel Tommy's nerves, thrumming under his skin like a harmony, and sees the determination to do right in the set of his jaw.
"It's okay, Tommy. You just - you just need to trust me. You trust me, right?" Adam asks softly as he tangles his fingers in Tommy's hair and tugs at it until Tommy stumbles into his chest. Adam slides his hand down Tommy's back and digs his fingers into his ass, scratching a little with his fingers.
"Answer me, Tommy. Do you trust me?"
There are too many sensations mixed with his emotions and it's suddenly overwhelming that Tommy can't help but turn pliant right there pulled against Adam's chest. Everything around him seems to be enveloped in heat with sweat beginning to bead along Tommy's brow, feeling even more heat everywhere he and Adam touch.
"I-I..." Tommy knows he has to answer, has to say something but it's hard when his whole body is thrumming and anxious.
"I trust you," he manages to breathe out, lips parting in a gasp while he starts to rock his hips, pressing his slowly hardening cock up against Adam's thigh, rubbing, needing friction. "I trust you."
"That's all I need to hear," Adam whispers against Tommy's ear, stepping back and studying him for a moment. He slides the leather of the cock ring over Tommy's chest, smirking a little as he watches Tommy's reaction. Idly Adam slides it around Tommy's cock, slightly tickling the sparse pubic hairs, but not quite touching. "This means, Tommy ... this means - you're mine. We can talk about ... rules, and boundaries later. Right now, I want to see you ..." submit Adam thinks, but it might be too soon for that word out loud. "I want to see how good you can be for me. Stand still. I'm going to put this on you now. Stand very still."
"Yours? You want me to ... you ... I ..." Tommy stops trying to speak and instead he nods his head, understanding what it is that Adam wants. One word continually runs around in his mind. Mine... With dark, hooded eyes, Tommy watches every movement that Adam's hand makes. He fights the shiver that runs over his skin and then his breath hitches even before he can make any other sound.
Adam slips the metal ring around his cock, then he wraps the cockring around the base of his balls, his touch warm, surprisingly gentle. Tommy softly moans, his lush lips parting to take in gasped breaths, hands fisted to his sides because if he doesn't, he'll easily curl them around his own cock and stroke until he's hard again. That and there is this intense need to reach out and touch Adam, his face, his lips, his body. God, he starts trembling, softly speaking one word. Just one. "Yours." And that's all Tommy wants. To be Adam's. Completely.
"Mine," Adam says, barely aware of having spoken, as he finishes fastening the ring and oh, God. Putting his hands on Tommy's hips, Adam pulls him in and takes his mouth in a hard, plundering kiss, pushing his tongue in as he pulls Tommy close, letting the dark thing inside him loose a little bit more. He breaks the kiss and grabs Tommy's wrists, hard. Breathing heavy, Adam steps back, his eyes roaming over Tommy's body. He flicks his tongue out and trails a finger lightly over Tommy's cock. "So pretty, Tommy. You have no idea," Adam murmurs absently, leaning in to scrape his teeth over Tommy's neck. He groans a little when Tommy tilts his head back and Jesus, he's just so .. willing.
"This," Adam says, stroking over the cock ring, "Means I decide when - or if - you get to come. But ... we can talk about all of that later. Lie down on the bed, on your front. Put your arms above your head. Now, Tommy."
Already weak-kneed from the kissing and the touching, Tommy easily yields to Adam's wishes. It's but a small step to take and it's not that difficult to make it. He still trembles from the feel of Adam's hand on his cock, the rough and intense kiss and still he craves Adam's taste that Tommy licks around his lips while he moves to crawl back on the bed.
The cockring feels foreign and heavy, his cock getting impossibly harder as he moves. It brushes along his thigh and then his belly, before it gets pressed down on the bed as he lies on his stomach.
Tommy lays himself out for Adam, almost like an offering, his brown eyes almost black as he looks over his shoulder at him, hands slowly going over his head and his legs he spreads wide apart. He bites down on his bottom lip hard, cheek to the mattress, the anticipation of what Adam is about to do, already sparking even more heat all along his body. "You ... really want me ... to be yours?" he asks, Tommy's voice quivering.
Adam picks up the cuffs and slides them over Tommy's outstretched arms before buckling one thick strip of leather to Tommy's thin wrist, linking them with the chain he hooks around a slat on the headboard and then wrapping the other around his other wrist. He climbs on the bed behind Tommy, running his hand down Tommy's back, watching the graceful arch of his spine as he curves under Adam's touch.
"Tommy," Adam says softly, trying to suppress images of Tommy's pale skin marked with black-and-blue; and maybe - later on - red stripes. He leans over, bracing his hands on either side of Tommy's head so he can whisper right in his ear. "Tommy," he says again, "You are mine." Adam scrapes his teeth - on the wrong side of hard he knows, but he needs to mark that perfect pale skin - over Tommy's narrow shoulder blade, before slowly kissing and biting his way down Tommy's back, resting his mouth at the curve in the small of his back.
He breathes out, once, blowing gently on the bare skin. "God ... Tommy ..." Adam groans softly. "The things I want to do ... fuck!"
Tommy hears it and it makes him softly whimper, body shivering at the touching, the scraped teeth and of the thoughts that come to his mind of the things that he would like Adam to do, too. He digs his teeth on his bottom lip and suppresses the many sounds wanting to force their way out of his mouth.
Adam takes a deep breath and shifts on the bed. His cock is aching now, he can only imagine what Tommy's must feel like in the cockring, pressed into the bed. He picks up the lube and squirts some on to his fingers. He runs his other hand over Tommy's back again, digging in with his fingers and hissing a little when Tommy arches up under his touch.
"Lie still, Tommy. Just - lie still. I'm going to ..." Adam takes a deep breath, and starts over, even as he starts idly circling Tommy's hole with his lube-slick fingers. "I'm going to take such good care of you ..." Adam stretches his body over Tommy's smaller frame as he works his finger in. "So tight, Tommy. You're gonna take my cock so good. Gonna fuck you so hard, Tommy," Adam breathes against Tommy's neck as he works him open, as patiently as he can.
The feel of Adam's teeth still echoes on his skin and Tommy swears, though he can't see it, that there's a reddening line right there. One he is sure he'll feel for days. His breathing is labored now, slow and quivering, each intake hitching when he feels Adam's touch. Closing his eyes, he lets himself fall into the sensations, mind blanking into nothing but Adam, his words, those hands, his lips, his fingers, long and slender working him open.
Shifting, parting his legs further, Tommy's hips begin to move, rocking against Adam's expert fingers, and then pressing down for friction on the smooth bedsheets while his mind swirls with Adam's words.
You are mine... The things I want to do...
Mine
Is there any doubt? Tommy has been acting like it, inside pleading for it and now here he is, giving in to Adam because this is what he wants and he knows that now. What once was a primal reaction now has a name. Tommy's submitting. He's not only giving in but he's giving himself over.
A moan slips from Tommy's lips and he arches into the touch, the cockring a more pronounced feel against the sensitive skin of his dick that is now hard and heavy and leaking at the tip. He can feel the slickness between his body and the bed as he rocks his hips, aching for any friction, for anything to add to the sensations.
If there is any question about Tommy still being drunk, that should quickly disappear because right now? He's as sober as fuck, completely aware of everything that's happening to him and what Adam does to him.
"Adam..." His body jerks when Adam's fingers surge past a spot inside him and his luscious lips part, reddened from biting down on it to stop the sounds he inadvertently makes, still, they manage to slip out. Adam preparing him is a slow and sinuous process that Tommy thinks is torture only, in his mind, this is just the beginning and he's sure there's more to come. He wants that so badly that he begins to plead.
"Adam ... please ... oh, God! I want --" But this isn't about what he wants, is it? It's about what Adam wants and what Tommy is willing to give.
The chain on the cuff clink against the bed slat, metal against metal with the leather biting down on the skin of his wrists when Tommy moves. It's such a reminder for him to lie still like Adam wants him to. And he tries, he fucking tries really hard not to move and then he turns his head to try and catch Adam's face, look into his eyes. He wants to show Adam that he knows that this -- this is what Tommy wants and he's giving it to him. All of it. Everything. "Yours," he whispers, "God, please, Adam..." Then even softer, "yours..."
"Shhh ... Tommy ...," Adam murmurs, rubbing the small of his back with his free hand. "Lie as still as you can for me, okay? Still as you can." Adam pulls his fingers out of Tommy's ass, biting his lip as he rolls on the condom, slicking it hurriedly with more lube. He lowers himself carefully over Tommy's body, studying his face that's turned towards Adam on the mattress, his mouth swollen and red, and his eyes wide and dark. "God ... Tommy ... I should take pictures of you like this. Fucking gorgeous and all laid out ... for me."
Swallowing hard, Adam starts pushing into Tommy slowly and carefully. He wants to fuck Tommy so hard, that he can hardly think, but he needs to go slow. Slow, slow, slow, he chants inside his head as Tommy's tight heat surrounds his hard, aching cock.
The way Tommy's body shudders is like a slow rolling wave. It starts from his head, making the downy hairs on the back if his neck stand on end, then it reaches his toes, making them curl at the way Adam begins the slow thrust. His body trembles and the Tommy keens, needy and wanting even if he feels like his body was being split in two when Adam's hard cock pushes deep inside him.
"So good, Tommy," Adam murmurs, rocking his hips and bracing his hands by Tommy's head, the high, needy noises Tommy's making going straight to his cock, and sending bright, mental images to his brain of what other noises he could pull from Tommy in other situations. "So - so tight. Fuck!," Adam exclaims, sliding all the way in. Now he is fucking Tommy hard, pounding into that tight, gorgeous ass that's - "Mine, Tommy," Adam murmurs, nearly breathless. "All of it. All of y-you. Oh, God!" Adam loses it right then, the sight of Tommy splayed out under him, rocking back on to Adam's cock, Tommy pulling at the cuffs that are, oh God, turning his wrists red ... it's too much, and he grabs Tommy's hips, digging ruthlessly into the skin as he comes so hard he sees white for a moment.
The rhythm is punishing and even with Adam already coming, his thrusts erratic, Tommy can still hear, he can still feel skin slap on sweat-slick skin, Adam's large hard cock pounding pounding into him that the pressure to his groin builds. It makes Tommy tug on the cuffs, hands white-knuckled as he clenches them into fists, pushed down with each of Adam's movements that it constricts at his cock pinned between his body and the bed even more that he can't help the groan slip into low moan after low moan.
Adam pulls out before he collapses on top of Tommy, sprawling beside him, those eyes still on Adam's face, his mouth wide. Adam tugs at Tommy's hair, hard and says, "You want to come, Tommy? You have to ask. Make it pretty. Ask me real pretty and I'll let you come."
Those brown eyes are hardly recognizable, darker, needy. "Adam--! P-please! Please--!" Yes, he wants to come and Tommy whimpers, desperate, the cuffs continually clinking as he pulls on it, trapped, the skin of his wrists chafing, reddened, marked. It's with another pleading look he gives Adam while Tommy's hips rock, rubbing his hard and aching cock against the sheets. The pressure is intense from the tight cockring, the leather digging into the taut, stretched skin of his cock.
Struggling for breath Tommy's neck cranes back from the tug to his hair, he gazes into Adam's eyes, voice with a strain and he fights against that hard shudder from the way Adam just fucked him. "Please? I wanna come, Adam, pleaseplease ... m-make me come..?" Tommy's words quivered, coming out small and desperate, needing Adam to free him from this delicious torture, to own him. Own him. "Please Adam..." The last plea comes out in a rush of breath.
Adam runs a hand over Tommy's hair, leaning down to kiss him again, nipping hard at his red, punished, bottom lip. "Stop moving, Tommy," he says against Tommy's mouth, low and authoritative. "I'm going to unlock the cuffs, and you're going to ask me again. On your knees," Adam says, letting the wild, wanton thing inside him finally have free rein. "Ask me real pretty, on your knees, and I'll make it so fucking good for you." Adam reaches over, and unlocks the cuffs from the headboard, but leaves them on Tommy's wrists, tugging at the buckles to make sure they're still fastened. He needs something like this - something smaller that Tommy can wear every day ...
The trembling doesn't stop even as Tommy pushes himself to his knees, the thick leather cuffs still tight around his now bruised and chafed wrists. There are small whimpering sounds that slip from between his lips that he has to bite his bottom one to keep quiet. It's hard, especially with the cockring constricting, adding even more pressure to his balls, making Tommy's movements waver as he gets to his knees slowly, groaning, facing Adam and hissing a breath because he so very much wants to come.
Adam watches Tommy push himself to his knees, and feels his own spent cock twitch, seeing Tommy's confined like that - flushed and hard, red against Tommy's flat stomach. Adam rubs his hands absently on his thighs and doesn't take his eyes off Tommy's face.
Tommy keeps his bound hands on his lap, head down, sweat damp fringes of his hair falling over his eyes and then Tommy peers at Adam, long, dark lashes fanning up to look at him.
Although he doesn't know it, Tommy is right now the epitome of the perfect submissive; the perfect boy. Down to how he positions himself, how he holds his head bowed down to how he has his leather-cuffed hands resting on his thighs. Tommy only reacts, that this is the result of being in Adam's presence, hearing that voice - commanding - with no room for doubt or question. He'll give Adam anything he wants. Anything because he trusts him and right now what Adam wants is him.
"Oh, God ... Tommy" Adam nearly groans, reverent in the face of Tommy's unconsciously submissive pose. "That's - you're beautiful right now ..." Adam's eyes fix on Tommy's bruised, near-bloody bottom lip as he starts to speak, unable to look away.
Releasing his bottom lip, letting his teeth slide from where he has those lips pinned, Tommy speaks softly. "M-may I come? Please?" Tommy's voice hitches, "I need to fucking come. God, please! Adam ..." And again, the look in Tommy's eyes, they plead for him, swirling dark with lust and desperation.
"Y-you said I'm yours ... th-then make me come and make me yours ... Please..." Tommy hopes that it's pretty enough because he is desperate enough for Adam to touch him, make him come.
"Come here," Adam says softly, reaching out to tug on one of the cuffs, pulling Tommy in close. He kisses Tommy again, hard and punishing, not letting up on Tommy's abused bottom lip. Adam strokes down Tommy's back, sliding his fingers over Tommy's hole, still open and slick as he mouths at Tommy's neck, nipping hard at the fragile skin over his collarbone and Tommy thinks that he just might come painfully even with the cockring if Adam keeps this up. "Please..." Tommy murmurs again.
"Beautiful boy," Adam whispers against Tommy's neck. "That was as pretty an ask as I could have wanted." Adam goes to work on gently releasing Tommy from the cockring. He traces his fingers up Tommy's hard shaft, idly swirling his thumb over the leaking tip and Tommy whimpers, Adam's words making him writhe in a slow, sensuous way.
Adam tilts Tommy's chin up with his other hand, staring into his dark eyes; his perfect makeup smeared and faded on his face now into black and purple smudges. "So beautiful, Tommy. You have no idea. So good," Adam murmurs as he wraps his large warm hand around Tommy's unbound cock, stroking slowly, but firmly as Tommy's head drops to his shoulder.
Adam slides his free hand down Tommy's back again, resting his fingers on his ass as he jerks his boy off, whispering "Okay, Tommy. Come for me. Come on ..."
Panting harshly against Adam's shoulder, Tommy can feel the intense pressure to his groin quickly make way for his release. It takes but a few hard strokes and then Tommy arches his back, long sinuous neck stretching as he parts his still bruised lips in an open, silent cry.
Everything that he is, whole body, mind, spirit seem to come together and he feels the intense pleasure in complete synchronicity. Everything he ever knew to be ecstasy has not prepared him for this. Ever fiber, every nerve ending sings with pleasure, making heat rush through his veins, his heart pump harder, faster, his hold on to Adam's shoulder tight and digging deep as he comes and comes hard and gloriously.
The only sound that Tommy makes is the hitching of his breath, each one getting caught in his throat as his cock spills thick and wet and overwhelming until he finally collapses over Adam, boneless but still managing to clutch him tight with his cuffed hands. It takes a while for Tommy to feel again, to think again, blinking his eyes and tilting his head up to look at Adam. To smile.
Adam smiles back and gently kisses Tommy's bruised lips, taking care of him now. "Beautiful boy," he whispers against Tommy's mouth as his arms tighten around Tommy's slight, spent body.
Beautiful boy...
Those two words together resonate with Tommy and he leans even heavier, almost melting in Adam's arms that are slender and strong and tight around him.
Adam takes care of Tommy quietly, knowing from past experience that this moment can be overwhelming - especially the first time, when sex and submission start to combine into a greater whole, and quiet is needed to process the revelation.
Tommy doesn't remember when he's laid back down on the bed, cleaned up, even offered water to drink. What he does remember, though, is having Adam next to him, tugging a blanket over them both and then it's nothing but a warm chest he lays his head against, warm arms, kisses to his forehead, temple and lips.
"I'm yours," Tommy whispers just as he closes his eyes, sleep too seductive to resist. Tommy really is Adam's now and he isn't really sure what that means. Maybe later they will talk about it. Much, much later. The realization is slow to creep back into his mind, a quick flicker before he slowly gives in to sleep.
"Mine," Adam whispers against the top of Tommy's head, warm and heavy on his chest, but Adam never wants to move again. He lets sleep start to pull him under, finally, sated in a way he hasn't been for years. They need to talk, but that can wait. For now, Adam's happy with Tommy in his bed, in his life. His beautiful, beautiful boy.