Drabble 2 of 5: Lambliff

[linzeestyle]

scribblinlenore donated 20 dollars for Lambliff, and I cannibalized a few of her prompts - "temptation," "surprise," and "hideaway" - to get this.

hey pretty
(Adam/Tommy) (1700 words) (nc-17)

The Mariott whatever-the-fuck has amazing suites. The room service is just okay though, and the pay-per-view sucks. Tommy takes about an hour after check-in, and half of Avatar, to come to this conclusion. It takes another twenty seconds to convince Adam of at least two of these things.

"Okay, seriously? We have one day off, I want to watch the damn movie!" He's laughing though, mock annoyance dissolving into giggles as Tommy climbs onto his lap, straddling his hips and catching Adam's mouth with his own. "Oh, fuck."

"That's pretty much the plan," agrees Tommy. "Unless you're really that into these blue fuckers."

Adam grabs Tommy's hands, flipping him onto his back and climbing up over him. "I've seen it." Tommy raises his eyebrow, biting back a grin and bringing his thigh up to press hard into Adam's crotch.

"We talking about the movie?"

"Mmmm." Adam leans down, licks a long stripe along Tommy's neck that just isn't playing fair. He fucking folds, back arching without his say-so, because it's hot, and Adam's gorgeous, big and hot and heavy above him and hands pressing Tommy's wrists down into the pillows beside his head so he couldn't move if he wanted to. Like he would, when it's so damn good like this. "This gets better every time," Adam murmurs, and Tommy can feel the vibrations in his neck.

"Shit." He wriggles against Adam, trying to get some friction -- against his cock, against Adam's cock, whatever, he's not picky. "Fuck. Fucking...fuck me, please." His head tosses against the cushion and Adam smiles into his throat.

"Since you asked nicely. What if we tried the other way, baby?" It's spoken into Tommy's skin, and it takes a moment to register -- takes even longer to get past the sex-haze, because all of Tommy's blood is pretty much going to his dick, and it makes concentrating on anything else kind of a major challenge. When it gets through Tommy jerks, whole body shivering with the idea, holy shit. He can feel Adam laugh. "I really want to ride you."

Tommy is pretty much fucking down with that.

Because Adam is better prepared than anyone Tommy has ever fucked, he doesn't have to go far for the lube - it's in Tommy's overnight, with the condoms, and Tommy isn't sure when it started making more sense for Adam to keep his sex shit in Tommy's bag, but it means nobody else is getting this, and Tommy's selfish enough that the thought kind of gets him harder. Adam trails clothes like bread crumbs on his way into the bedroom and Tommy takes the opportunity to strip, get his fist around his own cock. He jerks himself lazy, no real plan to go anywhere with it, but Adam still swats his hand away when he comes back, pushes the condom into his palm and flips the cap on the lube.

"Bossy," Tommy says with a lopsided grin that he knows looks goofy, even as he complies and rolls the condom down his dick.

"Boy scout." Adam climbs back onto the couch and leans back with his legs spread, slick fingers sliding down to press inside himself, rough. Tommy bites his tongue, eyes glued to Adam's hand as he works himself open.

"Jesus."

"Like what you see?" Adam shifts his hips, breath hitching as he slides another finger in. "It's been a while. I'm a little tight."

Tommy groans, watching the way Adam's thighs shake, the way his hips rock up into his hand with every movement. Forget bossy -- he squeezes the base of his cock, hard, hoping like shit he doesn't make a total ass of himself. "You're a serious jerk."

Adam laughs, tipping his head back like it makes him genuinely happy. "Okay. Okay--come here. Like this."

Tommy's not too sure about the logistics at first, but then Adam manhandles Tommy until he's sitting up on the sofa, back propped against the arm of the couch and fingernails digging into the plush back as Adam straddles him, one long leg planted on the carpet for traction.

"Oh, fuck," Tommy whispers, and it comes out reverent, more needy than trash talk. His other hand comes up to grip Adam's hip, swallows hard and can't stop staring as Adam wraps his big pretty hand around Tommy's dick, slicks it with more lube and fucking climbs on. "Jesus Christ."

It's not like fucking a girl, even though Tommy's done the backdoor thing, went through the same phase as every other dude on earth. It's not even worth comparing it though, because it's so fucking different it's crazy to even consider it, try to match curves to angles or the macho dude posturing to the way Adam undoes him, the way Tommy wouldn't even want the control if he thought he could take it. Above him, around him, Adam's hot and beautiful and Goddamn incredible, eyes lidded and rocking himself on Tommy's dick like he's the best, most expensive sex toy ever -- and maybe Tommy would feel a little used but he can't make his brain get there, to busy watching the way everything plays out on Adam's face while he fucks himself, like it's amazing, like he's amazing, like Tommy's cock up his ass is the best thing he could be feeling. It's kind of fucking overwhelming, and Tommy whimpers and lets his head fall back, concentrates on the way Adam's skin kneads hot under his fingertips and the tight slick heat of Adam's body, moving like the inevitable.

It's forever, or just a couple minutes, before Adam's leaning forward to rest his head on Tommy's shoulder, hand coming up to press against Tommy's chest. "I want...fuck. I need it harder." Tommy's eyes open wide and his whole body jerks, because fuck yeah but also how the shit. And then Adam's climbing off of him and stretching out backwards against the sofa, and he's so fucking big Tommy's got no choice but to get between his legs. It's a great view though, Tommy's sure as hell not going to complain: Adam spreads his thighs wide and pulls Tommy forward and it's easy enough to figure out the mechanics, push back in and watch the way Adam tosses his head back at how getting fucked feels. "Come on," Adam says, more impatient than controlling but still convincing, all the same. One of Adam's hands slides down his belly to wrap around his dick, tugging harder than Tommy would've figured to try and biting his own lip against the way it probably feels, sharp edge of almost too much and the feeling of being full, just the same as Tommy's learned how to be a total slut for in the last few months. Adam's long legs wrap around Tommy's ribcage and Tommy can fucking well take a hint: he braces himself on the back of the couch and gives it to him, as hard as he can.

What's crazy, Tommy thinks disjointedly, is how quiet Adam is like this. His usual endearments, encouragement are gone -- he's all hitching noises, breathy half-words and sharp sounds when Tommy angles up, hits the place he's aiming for that Adam's taught him is the part that makes you nuts. It's fucking weird, and it makes Tommy's chest seize up, something in him all full with the stupid fucking urge to be careful with Adam, protect him or guard him or hell even knows what. It makes him feel stupid, and kind of naive, and he leans down and bites a sharp line across Adam's collar bone, works his hips up higher so he's hitting that place on every single thrust. It's what Adam needed, apparently, because his whole body tightens -- Tommy can feel it around his dick, and he kisses Adam's jaw and murmurs into his skin, "come on for me, baby boy," and Adam loses it, just like that. He comes with a cry and hot jizz on both their stomachs, and Tommy keeps on fucking him until his own orgasm hits him, because he remembers from experience that Adam's favorite part comes when his body's too oversensitive, but he can push it farther anyway.

It takes a while for Tommy to catch his breath. It's fucking hard work, and he tells Adam that, mutters it into his chest in annoyance when Adam starts pushing, half-assed, at his shoulder. The complaint makes Adam giggle, sounding kind of high-pitched and sex-drunk, and Tommy finds he can't help but snicker right back. "Fuckin' bossy, fuck off," he mutters, but he pushes off and pulls his dick out, strips the condom and tosses it with a smack into the waste basket. "Fuckin' rock star sex," he adds, because he's pretty sure they stained the upholstery. He groans and stands up, surveying the damage. "Probably shoulda used the bed."

Adam laughs again, rolling onto his own feet with a bright, happy sound. It puts him a full head taller than Tommy again, and not even the months of whatever the hell this has been can push away the thought, I fucking hit that. Tommy ducks around Adam and grabs his wrist as an afterthought, tugging him over to the crazy-huge bed.

"Well, now I know I'm famous," Adam says, collapsing down with Tommy happily and rolling them both so he's sprawled out on top of him. It's an awkward fit -- he's bigger, and he's heavy -- but that tight knot hasn't left Tommy's stomach, and Tommy finds he's not really in any hurry to let Adam back up. "I've officially trashed a hotel room." Adam nuzzles into Tommy's chest. "God, you're amazing."

Tommy exhales in a huff. "Bring your own sex toy," he murmurs. It's purposefully light, but he hates the way his voice wavers a little, just at the beginning, just when he says it. He digs his fingers into Adam's scalp and holds them there when he tries to lift his head up, probably protest or make a counterpoint Tommy's not really ready to deal with just yet. "You know you're fucking perfect," he says instead, and Adam exhales like he's giving in.

"Not even close, baby. But you help. I'm keeping you, okay?"

Tommy laughs and pets the side of Adam's face fondly. He wants that to be true.

Comments

[gypsycaravan.livejournal.com]

BOTTOM ADAM, OMG I CANNOT EVEN DEAL. THIS IS PERFECT.