Work Text:
Adam spends the last few days before he leaves for Australia in a whirlwind of packing and organising final details. He feels like his phone is glued to his ear, and his head is full of information, making it feel like it's going to burst.
If it weren't for Tommy - who seems to have taken up permanent residence, Adam's pretty sure he would have bitten someone's head off by now. But Tommy's quiet, constant presence is like a balm and Adam finds things falling into place to the point he finds himself with a little bit of down time before he has to leave.
"Passport, tickets, schedule ..." he mutters to himself as he sits down beside Tommy on the couch after dinner a couple of days before he has to leave. "That's ... everything." He's nursing a glass of wine, and he can finally just sit.
He turns to say something to Tommy, but frowns when he catches a lost, slightly restless look in Tommy's dark eyes as he shifts in his seat and picks at the label on his beer bottle.
Restlessness isn't really in Tommy's nature and belatedly Adam realises he's been like that for the past few days. Adam slide his finger under Tommy's chin, tilting his head up so he can meet his eyes. "Okay, Tommy. What's going on? What's wrong?"
What's wrong? Adam's asking Tommy about what's wrong when it's so evident it'd have bitten Adam in the ass if it was any more obvious. Tommy tries to hide the way his lips take a downward turn, the way his eyes look just a touch disappointed and he may not be able to turn his head but Tommy can avert his eyes.
He looks away, shrugging a shoulder slowly. "Nothing. Just ... you're leaving ..." Is that obvious enough? Because even with Adam still here, Tommy's feeling antsy already. It feels like an itch he can't scratch that just bugs him all day with Adam being the only form of relief. Tommy can't do anything about it so he does the only thing he can, he grins (well, maybe not exactly grins) and bears it.
"Uh huh." Adam's not buying it. He grips Tommy's chin tighter so he has to look Adam in the eye and says, "There's more, though, isn't there? It's not just the tour that's bothering you. What is it, Tommy? We said - in Cabo we said we'd always be honest with each other. Is there something you want? Need? I - " Adam bites his lip before he says I'll give you whatever you want. "Talk to me," he says softly, moving closer and sliding his thumb over Tommy's cheek before tracing over his jawline. "What's going on in that head of yours?"
The struggle is evident in Tommy's eyes but he looks straight at Adam, especially having been reminded of Cabo and their conversation there. He sighs and tries to find the words. "I-I ..." Tommy can't say it. He can't. Not without sounding so desperate and needy.
An internal struggle ensues. Silently, Tommy is glad that Adam gives him that time, waits for him to sort his thoughts still with the fingers to his chin -- a connection Tommy is glad to have. Any touch from Adam is grounding and it keeps him in the present, calms his overactive thoughts.
"A month is ... a long time," Tommy starts, taking in a deep, shuddering breath. "I n-need ..." He closes his eyes briefly and just thinks. "I don't know if I c-can last that long, w-without feeling you ..." Like he is now. Wary eyes stare back at Adam's bright blue ones and Tommy thinks he just may die not looking into those depths and drowning in them like he's been all this time. It sounds stupid and melodramatic but fuck it! It's how he feels and he can't help it anymore than he can't help taking in air and breathing; he loves Adam that much.
Adam frowns, a little confused. "Feeling me," he repeats, blankly, studying Tommy's wide, dark eyes that are fixed on his face like he's begging Adam to understand what he's asking for.
Then it falls into place. "Oh," he says softly, leaning in closer. What with the upcoming trip and a hundred other things, it's been a while since they really scened and the thought of leaving Tommy behind with his marks all over his body ... Adam lets out a long breath as he moves his hand so it's gripping the back of Tommy's neck.
He watches to gauge Tommy's reaction and feels him practically go limp under his hand. "Upstairs," he says, his tone low, but not gentle. "Get ready. No plug, but I want to see a cockring - and nothing else."
Adam lets go of Tommy's neck and sits back, picking up his glass to drain his wine. Maybe this is what they both need before he goes overseas.
Tommy is still trembling long after Adam let him go. He takes a few quivering breaths because he doubts he'll be able to speak clearly through the sudden rush of knowing what it is exactly that Adam wants. He needs this. He knows this and his eyes briefly close and then another breath before he allows himself to sink into the way his desire rises hot and sharp through his body.
For a few beats Tommy still doesn't move and he just stares at Adam blankly because he wants to ...
Tommy slowly moves toward Adam, wrapping arms around his neck, nuzzling his cheek, whispering in his ear. "Yes," he murmurs softly, eyes closing, feeling Adam's warm body and already aching to feel him even more. "Th-that's what I need," he finally admits, a small smile gracing his face right before he gives Adam a gentle kiss ... because gentle won't be what will happen in the bedroom as soon as they were both upstairs.
Straightening up, Tommy heads for the stairs, looking over his shoulder before he climbs up, two at a time. In the bedroom he strips, already hard, already leaking, hands shaking as he struggles with the cockring and then he is on the floor, on his knees, waiting.
Adam takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulders back, letting out the tension as he sits back for a moment, waiting until he's sure Tommy's had enough time to get ready. He stands up, rolling his body out into a long stretch, which feels good, before slowly making his way up the stairs, to the bedroom.
He stands in the doorway, taking in the sight of Tommy on his knees, his hands on his thighs and his head down; his long fringe falling into his face. Tommy's pale skin shines a little in the lamplight, and his tattoos stand out in sharp contrast. Adam watches, his eyes hooded, as he imagines the marks that will soon bloom purple and black and red on that pale, pale skin. He pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it on the chair in the corner, before moving silently into the room and pushing his hand roughly into Tommy's hair, forcing his head back until he meets Adam's eyes.
"Safeword," Adam says, his voice low in the silent room, but commanding. It's one of Tommy's rules: he has to say his safeword at the beginning of a scene - they had found that it anchored both of them; steadied them before the scenes became deep, and intense. He pulls at Tommy's fringe again, his eyes on the long arching line of Tommy's neck as he winds his fingers tighter into the strands.
Tommy's breath is stuttered when he inhales and still shaky when he lets it out. He keeps his eyes on Adam, feeling the tug to his hair and he moves his head enough to feel that tighten even more -- feel just that hint of pain to know that he's really here, and that numb as he is inside, outside, he can still feel.
"Duke," Tommy says, cock twitching as soon as he says his safeword, feeling a familiar warmth that flushes his skin, a calmness that spreads within. Tommy meets Adam's eyes, telling him with a look that, yes, this is what he wants, what he needs, and then those long lashes flutter, slowly lowering, his submission as potent as the desire and love that Tommy showed Adam in the depths of his brown eyes.
Adam gives a spare nod; a half-smile, but doesn't say anything. He's so hard, suddenly, that it's making him a little fuzzy, which is the opposite of what he needs for an intense scene: he needs to focus, so he can give them both what they need. He cards his fingers once through Tommy's fringe, and tilts his chin up to make sure Tommy's looking him in the eye for now.
"So good," he murmurs, his voice low, as he unzips his jeans and groans a little in relief as his hard cock springs free. He grabs the base, and uses his other hand to gently stroke the side of Tommy's mouth. "You're going to look so - so pretty, Tommy," Adam says, keeping his voice low; an unconscious, almost rough cadence weaving in and out of the tone. "All marked up - taking it all for me ... I'm going to - to ... uh ... come all over that pretty face of yours, Tommy," Adam says, his voice strained as Tommy's lips - stretched and glossy - swallow his hard cock, inch by inch. Adam slides a hand to the back of Tommy's head, cupping it and holding it still as he slowly rolls his hips forward, fucking into Tommy's mouth. "Then, then ..." Adam bites his lip hard, and half-smiles.
"Well. I'll keep that part a surprise. But when I'm through Tommy," he says, tightening his grip on the back of Tommy's head and thrusting into his mouth a little harder, "You'll know exactly who you belong to."
Tommy's whole body shudders and there is no way to hold it back. Adam's words, his voice; it never fails to do things to him but this? The promise of what's to come and the ownership that Adam stresses makes his eyes grow darker with desire, his insides warming with the emotions he feels. He flicks his eyes up, long lashes fanning to look at Adam's face and his expression tells Adam that Tommy already knows who he belongs to. He knows.
Parting his lips further, taking Adam deeper, he lets him slide that cock in his mouth and slowly Tommy pulls his hands to his back, crossing his wrists and with Adam's hand behind his head, he resists moving. Let Adam fuck his mouth. Let Adam take what he wants. Because Tommy is his and he will do anything, give everything for Adam.
Adam doesn't even try to bite back the groans that tumble out of his mouth. He grips the back of Tommy's head a little harder, rolling his hips forward a little faster, as his groans spill into low, filthy words, watching Tommy still his body; his hands crossed behind his back.
The thrusts are long and deep, the head of Adam's cock hitting the back of his throat over and over again. Tommy is getting used to it, relaxing his throat, clamping his lips tighter around Adam's girth, his tongue sliding along the underside and more suction, giving more sensation. He worked it all in sync, better at it now than when he first started, hardly gagging, able to take en of Adam's long length in that his nose is tickled by the rough curls on Adam's groin.
Adam half-closes his eyes, his grip still tight on the back of Tommy's head, as he stills briefly to trace the outline of Tommy's stretched, bruised lips. The slide is slick and wet now, as saliva pools around Adam's cock in Tommy's mouth, and he knows he's close to the edge. "Gorgeous," he murmurs before sliding almost all the way out and pushing back in fast and hard, feeling the head of his cock bump against the back of Tommy's throat. His breath hitches as he feels his orgasm building low and tight in his gut as he slides all the way out of Tommy's mouth, slowly jacking his cock; aiming it at Tommy's mouth and the sinful line of his neck.
Not all of Adam's come makes it in Tommy's mouth. Most of it splashes hot and thick on his chin, his cheeks, his neck and chest, too. The smell is sharp, distinctly sex and the way it feels -- it's like a branding. Tommy doesn't swallow, his tongue still stuck out of his mouth, come pooling over his tongue that it makes his mouth water, bitter and salty, tasting of Adam and possession. Tommy's long lashes are slow to fan up, looking at Adam's face while still on his knees, hands clasped behind him, still poised in submission and now he is marked in a way that even if it's not a distinct mark but both Adam and Tommy know that this has happened. That the experience, the memory is what makes a deeper imprint than any visible mark can ever leave.
Adam's breath is short, and his heart is racing as he comes hot and hard, watching as the thick white fluid coats Tommy's face and neck. He slides his finger through a drop of come at the corner, of Tommy's mouth; stroking it down his chin. He draws his hand back, and tucks his cock back in; doing up his pants and pulling hard on Tommy's hair, forcing his neck back; his come shining all over Tommy's face and neck, making Adam feel ... primal, almost. And protective.
"Perfect," he says, unable to stop himself from grinning; and he can feel the sharp edges of that smile as his dark and wild ... thing ... comes out to really play.
Tommy whimpers, almost begging with his hips rocking slowly, cock bobbing hard and heavy between his legs. His lips are red and swollen, his cheeks flushed pink, the flush travelling all the way down to his heaving chest, still panting for breath, jaw still aching from the abuse of that cock filling his mouth over and over and over again. Tommy still doesn't swallow, still presents his prize that's on his tongue for Adam to see as he waits for instruction, for permission to let the thick, bitter fluid slide down his throat.
Adam groans and slips his thumb into Tommy's mouth; spreading his taste over Tommy's tongue. "Mine," he says, low; but not soft at all as he presses his thumb down, hard on Tommy's tongue for a moment. "Swallow, Tommy," he says. Adam looks at Tommy's hard, leaking cock and smiles again. "Not yet, baby. Stay there. Don't move."
Tommy swallows, Adam's finger still in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it, sucking on it before he pulls off with a soft pop. His eyes stay on Adam, dark, glazed over, watching him carefully, tracking each movement with his intense gaze while still panting for breath his heart racing in anticipation of what's to come.
Adam turns and heads into his walk-in closet, focusing on a chest right at the back. He opens it and studies the contents, debating. He hasn't had time to build up a scene like he normally would so he operates purely on instinct; pulling out a length of black silk, and a cat o'nine tails whip; already anticipating the marks that will bloom on Tommy's easy-to-bruise skin.
Without saying anything when he comes back into the room, he slips the silk around Tommy's eyes, tying it securely at the back of his head. A silent press of his hand to Tommy's shoulder, and Tommy stands. Still not saying anything, Adam directs him until he's bent over the solid dresser, his hands braced on the wood.
Even before Adam makes it over to him, he's seen it, what Adam has in his hand and Tommy can't help the tremble to his body. He's glad to be on his knees, feeling them weaken at the sight of the whip that when Adam wraps the silk over his eyes, he whimpers, licking around his lips, his mouth suddenly gone dry. The press to his shoulder tells him that he needs to get up, the move something they discussed, cues for when Tommy is expected to be silent and obedient. He feels the cool of the wood under his arms, bent over, his ass jutting out and presented, his back slightly stiff, already waiting for the act he knows will follow.
Adam studies the pale, unblemished line of Tommy's back for a moment, and leans over him; heavy and warm; whispering against his ear: "Been too long since we did this ... there's no marks on you at all ... and you mark up so pretty ... keep still for me ... as still as you can ..."
Adam's body is warm, so warm on his back and his words said in a tone that defies any opposition: hard, sharp, dominating though still with that hint of sensuality, sweetness that seemed inherent in his voice. Tommy loves that tone and it makes him shiver again, pressing back, tilting his head enough that he can feel his own breath warm as it brushes past Adam's skin.
"For you," Tommy whispers, leaning his head forward, pressing his forehead to what he assumes is Adam's cheek, he lets his lips barely graze there before pulling away, body stilling. He stops moving, no matter how much he wants to rock his hips, press his erection against anything for friction, finding relief that he knows won't come until it's time -- until Adam says so.
Tommy feels Adam's movements, hearing the sharp sound of his pants rubbing together, the whisper in the air as Adam moves, hyper aware of where Adam is even though he has no idea what he's going to do. A small nod of his head and then Tommy grabs on to the edge of the dresser, knuckles paling at how hard he grips the wood; he's ready. "Yours..." His own voice sounds loud to his own ears -- just about as loud as the thumping of his heart that makes him feel each throb of his pulse on the side of his neck.
Adam runs his free hand down Tommy's back, the whip dangling loose in his other. He digs his nails in so they leave marks, but not break the skin; long red lines down Tommy's back.
"Mine," he says. "I've got you, Tommy. Just keep still."
Adam raises the whip, and trails the ends lightly over the small of Tommy's back where his spine is curving out in a graceful arc. He shifts his shoulders, and considers for a moment, how many lashes to apply to mark Tommy for several days. Adam never tells Tommy when they're in a scene how many times he's going to be struck; or how long he might have to stay on his knees or be tied down - he likes the uncertainty, and knowing that Tommy has to put his complete trust in Adam ... it's a powerful thing.
Already Tommy's body stiffens and he knows better than to tighten his muscles but the anticipation, the waiting, always brings about the tension. Tommy feels the tails brushing lightly along his back and it makes him jerk in surprise, not expecting the soft touch. It tickles but he knows well enough now how deceptive that can be. Adam knows exactly what he's doing to Tommy and frankly, that makes Tommy even harder between the legs.
Without warning, Adam pulls his arm back, and lands the first blow; the whip's strands connecting with Tommy's back with a loud, sharp slap. Adam lands two more hard strokes; pausing to study the marks rising up already. He's half hard again, and bites down on his lip; hard. Tommy's not holding back his noises, and Adam loves that - it's the only reason he's never gagged Tommy during a scene - he sees no reason to deprive himself of the glorious sounds that spill out of Tommy's mouth.
Adam presses his fingertips into the marks once, hard, before raising the whip again, and bringing it down, hard, on Tommy's fragile, pale skin.
Unintelligible sounds spill from Tommy's lips and it comes out stuttered, groans low and deep spread out between pained moans. It fucking hurts. His back arches, curving so much to try and get away from the hit of the hard knotted leather on his back. He can feel his skin welt instantly, lines burning on his skin and the sting is sharp and glorious at the same time. "FUCK!" The last hit crosses the first two and the pain doubles, making him sweat along his hairline, his whole body seeming to be immersed in intense heat. The come cooling on his neck and face and chest, still wet, mixing with sweat, the scent of sex rising with the heat of his body like steam rises in the air.
The pause is just a reprieve, he knows. A breather that Tommy takes advantage of, looking over his shoulder at where he senses Adam to be. "Harder," he grouses, voice already rough from the way Tommy earlier cried out with each hit to his back. "Harder," he repeats because he wants this to hurt. He wants these marks to stay there and remind him of Adam and being his and being owned. Something that would last long enough until Adam comes back though in his mind, Tommy knows that's probably not possible. He is pleading at Adam, if only he wasn't blindfolded and Adam can see his eyes because they are showing how conflicted Tommy is with his emotions, begging and part challenging Adam to do it, hit him harder, make him feel it.
Adam near-growls at the tone in Tommy's voice. Leaning in close, he whispers in his ear, "Trying to tell me what to do, Tommy? Trying to tell me how much to hurt you? When I'm done -" Adam pauses, and runs his hand down Tommy's back, deliberately pressing it hard into the marks already raising, scraping his fingernails along the tender skin. "When I'm done, you'll be feeling me for days. I promise," he says, trying to keep his voice steady; even as he pulls back a little bit; Tommy's desperation feeding his own need to dominate.
He pauses before raising the whip again; mentally counting. Four strokes done. Adam studies Tommy's back for a moment and tries to calculate, briefly, how many strokes will mark him up for the longest time. Running his free hand down Tommy's back, he digs his fingertips into the spots where the marks are the reddest and the most raised; smiling a little at the groans that touch pulls out.
"You want it harder, Tommy?" Adam murmurs right against the shell of Tommy's ear; noting his white-knuckled grip on the dresser as he slides the whip slowly up Tommy's hard, leaking cock. Adam pulls back again; raising the whip without saying anything else, and bringing it down on Tommy's back with all the force he can muster.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Adam pauses again, and rolls his shoulders; stretching his neck. Tommy's back is a hot bloom of red welts and Adam groans low in the back of his throat when he imagines those marks turning blue, and purple and black.
"So good," he murmurs, running his hand over the welts, fascinated by the heat radiating under his palm from Tommy's skin.
By the time Adam pauses, Tommy is bent over the dresser, his fingers already numb from gripping the edge, his knees already weak with his full weight leaning on the wood. Tears sting his eyes, the pain almost too much to bear and his skin is already shimmering with a thin sheen of sweat. He says nothing but groans in pain, and fuck, this is what he wants. To feel Adam for days, to be reminded each time he flexes and the skin pulls painfully when he moves, who marked him, who he belongs to, who his body craves.
His cock had gone soft from the hit, but as soon as the pain radiates and his back burns, Adam's touch magnifying it, Tommy moans, hardening again, his ass juts toward Adam. Tommy doesn't straighten up. He can't. Still bent over the dresser, arms now crossed and pillowing his head, hiding his mumbled words of 'yes, yours,' curses that spill forth too freely from his lips and then there were quietly groaned words where Tommy tells Adam to 'don't go, don't leave me, stay...'
The tip of his tongue slips out to lick at the blood that beads at the corner from where he's bitten down on his lip so hard to cut skin. Tommy is writhing in pain, legs shaking more and more as Adam's hand move over the raised welts. He can feel each one, stinging so deliciously that he doesn't know whether to arch or bow his back or allow himself to slip down on the ground and just fucking cry it out, it hurt so much.
Adam rests his forehead against Tommy's temple; feeling the sweat pooling there. He's buzzing with adrenaline and he's hard again; feeling possessive and wanting. He spreads his hand out on Tommy's back, and would swear he can feel his heart; jackhammering a fast, fast beat. His own heart gives a twist when he hears the words that Tommy can't seem to stop himself from spilling out of his mouth.
"Little more; beautiful boy. You can take a little more," Adam says; low and soft; his voice gentle. "So good ... so proud of you Tommy ..." Adam slides his hand gently down over the slight curve of Tommy's ass, before pulling back again.
He shakes his head a little to clear it so he can really assess Tommy's state: he's slumped over the dresser; head braced on his arms, the blindfold coming askew. His muscles are tense with trying to stay upright and his back is a welter of red marks. Adam would normally stop now; would end the session; but Tommy had asked for more, and harder, and truth be told, Adam wants as much of Tommy's submission under his skin as he can carry with him on the long, long promo tour that's about to start.
He wants to close his eyes in lonely hotel rooms and see red on pale white skin; see the tension cording Tommy's muscles, and the tiny mark of red where he's bitten through his lip; that moment when Adam first comes into the bedroom and sees Tommy on his knees ... he's storing up as much as he can.
Tommy can do this, can't he? Take more. It's what he wants, right? To move feeling the skin pull and stretch and hurt -- a vivid reminder of Adam, what he does to Tommy and how he makes him feel; owned, wanted. He props himself on shaky arms, trying to straighten his spine only to hiss a breath in pain. Tommy's eyes are wet with tears, his face constantly wincing but he doesn't say anything. No complaints, no plea for mercy and no, he is not going to ask Adam to stop.
"More," Tommy grouses, voice rough from crying out, from panting hard. He is still trembling but he braces himself for the worst. He doesn't want any more and he knows that they would have stopped otherwise but he needs this, pushing himself to his breaking point just so he can have more of Adam. "More."
Adam raises the whip again; calculating how many more in his head, before bringing it down across Tommy's back.
Eight.
When Tommy cries out, his voice is strained, the pain so intense and it shoots down his back. Tears stream down his cheeks, hands scrabbling for purchase, something, anything to hold on to to keep himself up.
Nine.
A loud thump sounds when Tommy falls back over the dresser, panting, back burning, god damn burning with pain. He clenches his teeth to bite it back, not succeeding and the cries that spill out of him grew louder and louder -- deafening.
Ten.
Tommy's body trembles so hard and his knees finally give, groaning when he can no longer hold himself up, failing, and he began to slowly slip down off the side of the dresser.
Adam drops the whip, barely hearing it clatter to the floor as he gently wraps his arms around Tommy, before he falls to the floor.
"I've got you."
They both find themselves on the floor, Tommy holding on to Adam with numb fingers, body slippery with sweat, his eyes shut tight, face buried at the crux of Adam's neck and shoulder. He's panting so harshly, body slack but trembling and pressed hard against Adam's. Tommy whole body feels like it's burning, so hot, so tired, and he leans heavily on Adam. Adam, who was going to leave him here for a month. He was in too much pain, both his back and right there in his chest, constricting, making it even harder to breathe. Tommy clings to him. Clings with his fingers digging into Adam's arms, holding on tight. Don't go.
Adam cradles Tommy as gently as he can, his back nearly on fire under Adam's hands, the red welts raising on his back. He slides the blindfold off and drops it to the floor, easily bearing Tommy's slight weight. He's murmuring soft words into Tommy's ear; a low, soothing run of words telling Tommy how good he his; how well he's done; how much Adam is going to miss him when he's away ...
Thinking of Adam leaving only magnifies how much he failed just now. Tommy wants more and only because he needs to feel Adam so strongly while he's away and the only way he can do that is to feel the physical pain, Adam's presence branded right there on the welted skin of his back. He struggles to get up, fingers slipping on the sheen of sweat on Adam's body. Adam hard between his legs did not go unnoticed, either, and Tommy brushes his hand over it before attempting to stand on his still very shaky feet.
"...more..." Tommy repeats, pushing on his hands now on Adam's shoulders, trying to get some leverage so he could get back on his feet and back to leaning against the fucking dresser that looked as if it still needed him there.
Adam's shocked when Tommy tries to stand, his fingers digging into Adam's shoulders. "Tommy," Adam says gently at first, catching hold of his wrists and trying to pull him back down. When he realises that Tommy's not listening to him, that he's still trying to stand Adam repeats his name, deliberately putting a harder edge to it, realising with a flash of insight that it's the only voice Tommy's going to respond to right now; he's still deep in subspace from the scene.
"Tommy, stop," Adam says, tightening his grip on Tommy's wrists, abandoning any attempt to be gentle. "Come back down here. Now."
The tone of voice Adam uses is unmistakably dominating, it shakes Tommy to his core. He stops moving and though his movements are sluggish when he turns to look at Adam, his eyes are sharp and he clearly understands. He falls back on Adam's lap, wincing in pain as the marks on his back stretch and as much as he knows he shouldn't do anything without permission, he curls into Adam and buries his face against Adam's shoulder.
"I need it. I need you." This Tommy repeats over and over, a soft whisper at first, getting louder while his lips move over Adam's skin, soft kisses, desperate kisses until he can say the words to Adam's ear. "I need you ... to do this ... so you don't forget me..." So I can always feel you. Blood and sweat and tears mix on his tongue as he licks around his lips, arms wrapping around Adam, tightening his grip as if letting go meant he was going to disappear. "Please ..."
Adam carefully wraps one hand around Tommy's hip, avoiding the marks on his back, and rests the other on the back of his neck, making soothing strokes with his thumb on Tommy's overheated skin. He doesn't say anything, letting Tommy say what he needs to say; the scene having acted like a leach to the poison Tommy's obviously been bottling up since Adam found out the news about the promo tour.
Patiently, Adam strokes Tommy's neck until he finally subsides, trembling against Adam's chest. Adam shifts a little and slowly stands up, pulling Tommy with him, still silent. He pushes Tommy's sweaty fringe back from his face and studies his dark eyes. His face is a mess: his liner is smudged; his eyes are red and his lip has split open again where he had bitten it.
"Here, sit," Adam says gently leading Tommy to the edge of the bed. "I'll be right back."
Bathroom, Adam thinks, vaguely, wetting a washcloth with cool water. He then fishes in the bar fridge he keeps in his room for the sweet iced tea Tommy likes to drink after a scene. He twists the cap off before handing the bottle to Tommy and sits down on the bed, gently tilting Tommy's face towards him as he wipes it clean.
"There," Adam murmurs, half-smiling. "Better." He loops one arm around Tommy's shoulders and leans his forehead against his temple, waiting patiently for Tommy to stop trembling before he says anything else.
Tommy has downed half the bottle already, the sugar and the caffeine of the drink making him just a little bit more alert. Adrenalin still runs in his system so he's still keyed up and the intensity of the pain still hasn't quite settled completely. He looks up at Adam, his face feeling cooler than the rest of his heated body and he gives a nod, a small upturn of his lips that still isn't close to a smile but enough to show Adam he's grateful for the attention and that yes, he feels better. At least a little bit.
Dipping his head down he stares at the bottle, the sides cold and sweating, making his palms moist from the condensation so the bottle smoothly slides as he turns it around and around in his hands. Everything starts to hurt everywhere and the more awakened his mind becomes, the more Tommy is beginning to feel it. He keeps shifting where he sits, face alternating between him wincing and him trying to hide it from his lover.
"Why'd you stop it?" Tommy whispers, his voice low, hoarse and his mind more aware now having been pulled out of subspace by Adam stopping the scene. It's why he asks, why his eyes narrow and why he was, well, pissed off -- because Tommy feels like he's failed but not because it was his fault. Adam was the one who stopped even if it was clear that Tommy still wants it.
This isn't supposed to end like this and it's not how Tommy pictures their last few nights to be. He wants to hurt. He wants to be marked -- so much that it'll last all month that Adam's gone. He peers at Adam from under his long lashes, wincing as the pain begins to radiate all over his body but he still doesn't look away, eyes slowly narrowing at Adam. "I didn't want you to stop."
Adam lets out a small sigh as he moves, dropping his arm from Tommy's shoulders and winding his fingers together, staring down at the chipped, black polish. He lets the silence stretch out, as he tries to think of what to say. He's conscious of Tommy beside him, shifting, and restless still, but Adam doesn't do anything to stop the movements. He feels tired, and a little bit flat as the adrenaline drains out of his own system.
He picks at his polish for a moment as he studies the whip on the floor. Finally he says, quietly, his voice weary, "Do you trust me?"
The question surprises Adam; it certainly wasn't what he intended to say, and he knows it doesn't answer Tommy's question directly, but ... he half-turns and studies Tommy's face, pale and tired-looking in the low lamplight.
"Tommy. Do you trust me?"
Still moving sluggishly, Tommy manages to nod and then he lifts his head up enough to look into Adam's eyes, show the man that yes, he meant it; he trusts Adam. "I do ... but ..." There shouldn't be that 'but,' he knew and trust Tommy to feel bad about it that, although his face remains stoic, he ducks his head again and shakes it. "I need ..." he doesn't really. He only thinks he does and only because he was afraid. Afraid to be alone, afraid to lose Adam, afraid that things will change if they're separated this long. He hates that he thinks that and that's why he's hiding his face because try as he might, it's showing clear as day there.
Adam lays his hand on the back of Tommy's neck again, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb as he waits; he has a feeling Tommy's not done yet.
"Sorry," Tommy apologizes, head becoming less hazy, more focused, even if the pain still hasn't dulled and he ignores it save for a little wincing when he moves a certain way. "I mean, yeah, I, like, really trust you. I know you won't do anything to hurt me." This is Tommy admitting that yes, he has reached his limit and he's more pissed at himself for that than anything else happening right now.
Adam tightens his hand on Tommy's neck for a moment. He can hear the disappointed edge in Tommy's voice and knows he needs to smooth that edge before he goes away, or Tommy will be beating himself up over this for the whole month that Adam won't be there to soothe and reassure him. As far as Adam's concerned, Tommy was perfect, amazing, beautiful ... and he wants to say all of this to Tommy, but knows he'll get an argument in return, and that's the last thing he wants right now.
Instead, Adam leans in, and presses his mouth against the tender spot on Tommy's neck that always sends a shiver through his body, even as he slides his hand down his back; fanning it out over the marks that will turn into bruises in a day or so. Adam presses his fingertips into the small of Tommy's back - just for a second. Just long enough to feel the arch of Tommy's back as he automatically tries to shift away from the pain.
Tommy whimpers, his eyes closing, writhing to get away from the touch but then there's a part of him that wants to press back and make it hurt. He's so confused by the fact that he doesn't know which one he wants more but Adam makes the decision for him.
All Adam does is lay his other hand over Tommy's chest; feeling his heart speed up under his palm. And he lies. Just a little bit. Because he says "Never," right against Tommy's ear - "I would never hurt you ..." and he's not talking about the marks on Tommy's skin; they both know that. He's talking about something deeper, and it's an impossible promise to keep. He's going to break it the day after tomorrow, when he walks out the door and leaves Tommy behind.
First, though, Tommy needs to know just how much he means to Adam.
Adam withdraws his hands, smoothing one down Tommy's chest and stomach first; avoiding his cock, but tracing a line over his jutting hipbone. "Lie down," he says, his voice soft.
"On your front. I want to see your back. Look at it ... properly."
The touch makes Tommy's half-hard dick stiffen again even if he knows that they're most likely done for the evening. Already he's resigned to his fate -- that tonight isn't going to be the night that Tommy will be allowed to come and somehow, he's okay with that. He's here and Adam is here and they're together for a few more days and any brand of torture he'll gladly accept if it means he's making Adam happy.
Slowly he gets on all fours on the bed, almost lethargic as he moves, the pain clearly painted on his face but Tommy gives such a valiant effort to not let Adam see it. Laying on his stomach, Tommy bites back the groan even if it slowly and softly slips out anyway. With his hands crossed, he pillows his head on them, turning with a wince because the skin stretches as he moves.
Adam frowns a little when he hears the groan that Tommy tries to suppress. It's a stupid question, he knows, to ask if Tommy's in pain, but he wishes Tommy wouldn't try and hide it from him. If Tommy would just let go; Adam knows he could lose himself in that for days - in the knowledge that he's the one who has put that look on Tommy's face as much as he's the one who's put the marks on his back ...
"H-how does it look?" Another pained expression crosses Tommy's features as he looks back, hair cascading down, watching Adam through the fallen fringe over his face. He doesn't want to miss the look on Adam's face as he gazes on the marks on Tommy's back. All he wants to see, all he hopes to see, is Adam happy, satisfied with the expression of ownership he's branded all over Tommy's back.
Adam shakes his head a little to clear it as he rolls off the bed, standing up to strip off his jeans. He studies Tommy's back as he does so; his eyes tracing over the red, raised marks again and again as desire flushes through his system; making him hard again and making his blood feel like its running hot through his veins.
"It looks ..." Adam climbs on to the bed, lying on his side close to Tommy as he traces his fingertips over the red, crisscrossing marks. They feel hot to touch still, and Adam gets an idea of how much pain Tommy is really in when he tries to reflexively twitch away from Adam's hand. But Adam just lays his palm flat; keeping Tommy in place, as mine starts beating in time with the pulse thudding through his veins.
He plants a soft kiss on Tommy's bare shoulder before nipping at it - on the wrong side of hard - with his teeth. "Amazing," he says finally, after he's worked his way up Tommy's neck with a series of small, sharp nips until his mouth is right against Tommy's ear. "It looks amazing. God, you're so fucking gorgeous like this Tommy ... you have no idea. I just - I want to -" Adam feels his throat close up then, as the words he wants to say stick there. He swallows, hard, his fingers still making patterns in the red lines on Tommy's back; lines that might as well spell out mine as far as Adam is concerned, even as he buries his head in the curve of Tommy's neck.
The bites make Tommy gasp sharply, a hiss of breath leaving his lips as he buries his face on his crossed arms under his head. His back arches, his hips rock, arousal suddenly palpable enough for him to taste it, even smell it in the air; sharp and heady. It's the glorious mix of pleasure and pain of longing and need. Tommy whimpers softly, getting hard again, his cock suddenly feeling too full, too pinned beneath him.
"Anything you want ..." Tommy tells Adam, peeking through his crossed hands and his fallen fringe, wisps of hair getting caught in his long lashes as he fans them upward to stare at Adam's face right before he feels him nuzzle against his neck. Tommy reaches for him, one hand to the back of Adam's head, fingers sinking in his hair. "I'll give you anything you want," Tommy says again, murmured, voice soft but low and obviously already tinged with arousal.
"You wanna fuck me?" Tommy asks then, curving his back so that Adam's touch presses deeper on the marks, making him groan softly with the pain while he pushes his cock down, rutting on the sheets with a slow roll of his hips. "Fuck me, Adam. I know you want to. Fuck me and make me feel it ..." Tommy's voice quivers with the intense feeling of need.
Adam presses his fingertips into Tommy's back; almost digging in; his want and need sharp and sudden at the tone in Tommy's voice. He feels like he can't catch his breath - almost like he's been running for days and his cock feels hard and almost painful, pressed against Tommy's side. Adam rolls his hips forward once, slow and deliberate, as he slides his hand down to Tommy's ass, feathering tiny, light touches around his hole. He doesn't say anything at all as he gets what he needs; but as soon as he can, he puts his hands back on Tommy's skin, like he can't bear to be away for long.
His touch is possessive and less than gentle as he runs his hands down Tommy's back, silently pushing his legs apart and settling between them. He leans over then, bracing his arms on either side of Tommy's head, whispering low into his ear; words of want and possession and belonging as he slides his hard cock between Tommy's ass cheeks; drawing out the sensations as much as he can stand it.
Tommy whimpers and it's muffled by his face buried on the pillow beneath him. It was a god damned tease. One that draws out all these sensual desperate sounds from him as he softly pleads for Adam to take him -- take him now.
"You want me to fuck you and make you feel it, Tommy?" Adam says, right against the shell of Tommy's ear, breaking the heavy silence. "I'll make you feel it, beautiful boy," Adam says, his voice still low, but taking on an almost tender overtone as Tommy's dark eyes fix on his face. "You'll feel me for days." He pulls back and gropes for the lube, squeezing the cold liquid on to his fingers.
"Yesss!" Tommy hisses a breath, his body trembling from pain and the promise of pleasure. It's exactly what he wants, no, needs -- to feel Adam for days -- make it last as long as he's going to be gone and away from Tommy.
Remembering that hurt.
Adam traces Tommy's hole lightly at first, slipping the tip of one finger in; a silent, light tease. His own cock is heavy and leaking; a weight against his belly, but he focuses on opening Tommy up as slowly as he can stand to; fucking him open with his fingers at a painfully slow pace for both of them, determined to make it memorable.
Tommy arches his neck back, gasping sharply as he's filled but it's not enough. The need is so great but this -- it's not enough. His hips rock slowly, sensuously, with Tommy whimpering both at the painful stretch of skin on his abused back and the stretching he could feel around Adam's fingers. A small tremor runs through his body and from where he has his cheek pressed on the pillow, he peers at Adam and whispers, "w-will you ... miss me?" Tommy's voice is small and a little lost between soft groans.
Adam's fingers don't falter as he watches Tommy rock back on to him, and hears Tommy's quiet, lost words. His heart thumps out of rhythm and his tongue feels heavy in his mouth; so he can't say anything at all. He adds a third finger, twisting and stretching, as he bends down; licking a hot stripe across Tommy's back, just above the top mark from the whip. He bites down hard into the soft skin, sucking out a deep mark, even as he draws his fingers out.
Adam tracks small kisses back along Tommy's back, and sucks out another mark before pulling back, rolling on a condom, and settling between Tommy's legs. He rests the tip of his hard cock at Tommy's entrance and leans over, whispering in Tommy's ear: "Yes. I'll miss you. All the time." He slides his hands up Tommy's arms, winding their fingers together, as he starts to push in; slowly but steadily.
The first slick slide Adam makes pushes a sobbed moan out of Tommy. It's a sound he's not heard himself make. It's just as uninhibited as the screams and pained whimpers earlier but this? It is raw, heartfelt, wretched pain that has nothing to do with the physical. This isn't what he expected when Adam said that he's going to make Tommy feel it. He expects pain and pleasure not -- emotions. They're so strong that it threatens to overpower Tommy, already overwhelming him that it feels like his chest is going to burst.
Is Adam making Tommy feel this? Yes. Yes he is. Because the knowledge of Adam leaving is making him feel his heart break into a million fractured pieces.
For some reason he forgets the bites, the welts on his back, the tingling of his ass and the once steady sting that spread earlier on his skin. He finds himself moving with Adam, meeting the thrust stroke for slow stroke and then Tommy's fingers tighten on their joined hands, clinging, as if letting go means he's going to lose him and Tommy doesn't want to lose Adam. Not for a month. Not ever.
Tommy's back feels hot, and he's so tight that Adam almost feels dizzy with it as he holds on to Tommy's hands as hard as he can; losing himself in the slow, steady rhythm of Tommy's body, and Tommy's ... Adam tightens his hands again and tries not to think the word everything.
They move in unison, like chords on a guitar playing in accompaniment to the most glorious voice singing in a song, a practiced dance that moves seamlessly, gracefully. Tommy arches his back, mindless of the pain, arching his neck and turning it just enough so that his face is as near to Adam's as he can. Tommy kisses him, even as he gasps for breath, body trembling, moving on instinct at the many mix of sensations. But none of that means anything. Not when it's his heart he exposes, seen right there in his eyes, his expression and then his words. Tommy's lips touch Adam's jaw and there he whispers, "I love you ..."
Adam feels his heart thump in his chest, as Tommy's mouth meets his. Tommy's back is hot against Adam's chest, making Adam feel a kind of restless, prickly heat all over, as his orgasm starts to build at the base of his spine - hot and hard. He meets Tommy's eyes, sees all the love in the dark depths, and suddenly Adam - right on the cusp of coming - feels as stripped and bare as he's ever felt. He speeds up his thrusts, not closing his eyes, knowing that he has to say what he has to say before the moment slips away and is gone.
"I know," he rasps out; harsher than he wants against Tommy's ear, but oh, god, it's nearly impossible now.
"I love you too."
And then he's gone; his thrusts going hard and wild as he comes harder than he ever has in his life; careless of how tight he's holding on to Tommy's hands, a babble of words spilling out of his mouth that he doesn't try to hold back: words of devotion; of love; of always; of mine.
It's like a shock to the system, when Tommy hears Adam's declaration that he pauses all movement, letting it sink in, convincing himself that yes. Yes. Adam did say that. That he loves Tommy, too. An overwhelming sense of emotion surges from his chest, rising hot and intense and it takes over his whole body. It makes Tommy tremble uncontrollably, his movements stuttering almost to a stop.
The feel of Adam coming and pulsing deep inside him, knowing by just the feel of him and the sounds he makes is what unhinges Tommy.
"Adam ... Adam ..." Tommy murmurs his name, strained from too much emotions, so much physical pain that is suddenly overcome with a pleasure so intense that he finds himself coming unexpectedly. "Fuck! Oh, God! FUCK!"
Tommy's orgasm catches Adam out completely, but he holds on as Tommy rocks back on to him; his whole body clenching and unclenching under Adam's.
Adam waits until Tommy stills underneath him, then pulls out as gently as he can, collapsing back on the bed beside him.
He turns his head to study Tommy's face. Oh shit, the cockring, he thinks suddenly. Adam rolls on to his side and pushes back Tommy's sweaty fringe from his face.
"Baby? Are you okay? Tommy? Say something to me so I know you're all right ..." Adam gently strokes a hand down Tommy's back; carefully avoiding the marks from the whip as he studies Tommy's face, worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth as he waits as patiently as he can for Tommy to let him know he's all right.
Adam sounds so far away. Tommy can hear him but it takes a moment for him to make his eyes blink and then open. He stares blankly at Adam, needing a moment to come to because he swears he came so hard that he blacked out.
The pain comes back like a slow burn, inching its way slowly into his psyche that Tommy's usual expressionless face suddenly winces and then a soft whimper slides from his lips. His hands, still feeling a bit numb and weak, reach out for Adam, fingertips rough and calloused touching his face with Tommy's eyes softening, warm. Then, slowly, his lips lift up at the corners, smiling though still edged with pain from the way his back and his ass keeps hurting.
"You love me ..." It isn't a question but more a confirmation with Tommy wanting to see it in Adam's eyes, wanting to feel it with his words. "You love me," he repeats it again, caressing Adam's cheek.
Adam leans into Tommy's hand, letting out a long, relieved breath. He gently circles Tommy's wrist with his hand, and turns it so he can plant a kiss into Tommy's palm. "Yes. Yes, I do love you." Adam searches Tommy's eyes - dark and still hazy; the corners pinching a little - in pain, Adam realises. "Here, let's make you a little more comfortable," Adam says, overwhelmed with the sudden urge to take care of his boy, who's looking at him in such a way to make Adam's heart beat faster.
He helps Tommy on to his side and gently undoes the cock ring, discarding it on the floor. Adam suddenly feels a wave of exhaustion, and it's all he can do to keep his eyes open. They should clean up, he thinks vaguely, even as his eyes start to close. He collapses on to his back instead, pulling Tommy up for a long, lazy kiss.
"I love you," he says again making Tommy whimper softly; whispering the words right against Tommy's mouth, before tucking his beautiful, spent boy into his side, and letting sleep take them both.