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Not Gonna Write You a Love Song

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cover art by kristin

 

 

May 31st, 2009

 

Adam can never write a song about this. For one thing, it would have to start out with eyes meeting across a crowded room, and that’s so cliche that the fact that it’s actually happening makes Adam feel a little sick, like he ate too much cotton candy and then got on the Tilt-a-Whirl. Or maybe that’s just the butterflies in his stomach. And when’s the last time he had butterflies like this?

 

The guy looks vaguely familiar, but Adam can’t tell if it’s because he actually knows who the guy is or because he looks a little like that really pretty blond bottom in the European porn that his brother bought him as a joke last Chanukah. And if he’s as hung as that guy on the DVD was, Adam might be doing his best to get the guy to a much less crowded room, stat.

 

He’s pretty sure that part wouldn’t work in a song either.

 

“Enjoying the party?” The smirk on Pink’s face spells trouble, but it makes Adam smile all the same. “Or just enjoying the scenery?”

 

Adam can feel his eyebrow arch and can’t help the evil grin that just kind of... takes over his expression.

 

“It’s nice scenery.”

 

Pink snorts into her drink and moves on with a thumbs-up go get ’im gesture.  If only.

 

The porn star double has moved on, and now Adam doesn’t see him anywhere. He’s trying to peer around a cluster of people when someone bumps into him and his “make it strong, hm? Thanks” gin and tonic sloshes all over the sleeve of the suit jacket he’s wearing. As he assures the mortified young intern that everything’s all right, it’ll come right out (haha), he’s thinking: this part definitely isn’t going in the song that he’s not going to be writing.

 

His phone buzzes in his hip pocket and he’s half-annoyed, half-grateful for the distraction.  He fishes it out and thumbs it on, smiling at the name on his display.  Possibly the only person he’d like to hear from right now.  Well, one of only four.

 

“Bored yet?”

 

Adam turns his phone around quickly to snap a picture of himself with his eyes crossed and his tongue hanging out, looking like he’d rather be shot in the head than to be standing where he is right now.  Which is… almost true.  He attaches it to a text message and types in under it, “Like hell.” 

 

He shoves his phone back in his pocket while he’s waiting for Kris to answer and goes back to his fruitless search for the boy-next-door porn star double.  It’s the most boring party he’s had to attend yet, and he’s really not sure why he’s here except that his publicist said it would be a “good idea.”  To Adam, a “good idea” means somewhere that he can have fun, mingle, be charming, maybe a little outrageous.  Apparently to his publicist, a “good idea” means somewhere he has to pretend to be well-behaved and sip calmly on one too many G&T’s and wish he smoked just to have something to do with his hands.

 

The real reason the publicist sent him to this party, and he knows it, is that there are film people here.  And Adam was stage, not film, but his name is still associated with theatrics and now he’s got a singing career and a record deal, and a hit track on a good soundtrack could be damn good for him.

 

But to actually meet any film people, he would have to move.  And talk.  And mingle.  Which should be easier than it is.  He hasn’t been shy since tenth grade and not seriously shy since fifth, and he can’t figure out what’s got his feet glued to the floor now.  Maybe just the fact that he knows that what he really wants to do is go looking for the only interesting person he’s noticed all evening, and that his publicist will kill him if he confesses that the reason he didn’t meet anyone was because he was too busy looking to get laid.

 

Of course, confessing that he didn’t actually talk to anyone probably isn’t going to look too good on his record, either.

 

His phone buzzes again and he’s fully grateful for the distraction this time, looking forward to Kris’s reply to his text.

 

“Found any tail worth chasing yet?”

 

He’s confused for a second, on the verge of sending a playfully scolding (but genuinely shocked) reply when he realizes this text is not from Kris at all; it’s from his brother.

 

“Maybe so. Tall, blond, boy-next-door. Looks like one of the guys on that Eurococks DVD you gave me.”

 

Neil’s reply is almost instant, and Adam can’t help wrinkling his nose, though he’s laughing too.

 

“…Everywhere?”

 

“I don’t know yet. Want me to tell you when I do?”

 

Adam hasn’t even hit Send yet when he gets another message.

 

“DON’T TELL ME.”

 

He takes a second to backspace and amend his text-in-progress.

 

“I don’t know yet. I’ll send you pictures when I do!”

 

“I’m pretty sure it’s considered rude to spend all your time at a party texting.” 

 

Adam jumps at the voice behind him, but he recognizes it before he turns, so he’s already smiling by the time he throws himself into Kris’s arms.

 

“Oh my God, I didn’t realize you were going to be here too!”  Clutching Kris’s shoulders turns into a playful punch, and he scolds, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Kris shrugs, looking embarrassed but pleased, the tips of his ears tinged pink and his smile so wide it looks like it hurts.  “We weren’t sure we were coming at first.  Katy was shopping for the perfect pair of shoes up until the last minute.”

 

“She finally found some, I guess.”  Adam looks around again, this time looking mostly for Katy and not for the hottie who got away.  Mostly

 

“Yeah.  For the wrong dress.”  Kris sighs.  “So then we had to go buy the dress that went with the new shoes.”

 

Adam laughs.  “I approve.”  Then there’s Katy, looking abso-fucking-lutely adorable, and he grabs her in a bear hug too.  “All truly great ensembles are built around good accessories,” he tells her, and she sticks her tongue out at Kris in an I-told-you-so gesture.

 

“Speaking of accessories,” Katy says in the tone of voice Adam has come to dread.  It usually means she’s hatching a plan.  “Where’s your arm candy?  I mean, you’re officially out now, aren’t you?”

 

Adam adopts a haughty kind of air and says, “As if I would ever show up with someone who could potentially outshine me.”  Then he laughs and shakes his head.  “As if I was ever not out.”

 

They’re all laughing now, because it was just so ridiculous every time 19E ran another “damage control” press release, talking about how Adam’s kissyface drag pictures were “part of a play he was working on.”  It got so bad that Kris had joked one night—way too late and too tired to be making any kinds of decisions—about lending him Katy so that he could have an adulterous scandal instead of a gay one.

 

“You’re just trying to garner sympathy so you can beat me,” Adam had joked.  “I know!  Why don’t you get Katy to lend me you?

 

Kris had choked on his drink—just plain Sprite, which made their current giddiness that much more embarrassing—and Adam had laughed so hard he was gasping for air.  The next day, still a little groggy, doing his best to save some energy for the Idol performance, Adam had taken a very strange call from Kris.

 

“I’m sorry,” Kris had blurted, and Adam was way too tired to try to figure out what all this was about.  Had Kris done something the night before that he just didn’t remember…?  “I shouldn’t have implied that being gay was like adultery.  It’s not.”

 

Adam’s jaw dropped open and laughed before he could censor the reaction.  “I never thought you meant that,” he assured Kris.  “As far as the press is concerned, they’re both scandals.  One of them just happens to be true.”

 

“I know, but….”

 

Adam had smiled, feeling soft and warm all over that Kris was so concerned—so aware, even.  “You’re forgiven,” Adam told him, and he could almost feel Kris's smile.

 

And now Adam’s feeling that same soft warmth, standing there laughing, his arm around Katy, and watching Kris’s face light up with mirth.  Suddenly the party doesn’t seem like such a waste of time and he’s full of new energy. 

 

“Whaddya say we see if we can find a dance floor in this place?”  Adam’s almost bouncing, Katy tucked against his side, and Kris laughs.

 

“Okay, but if we do, you’re giving me my wife back.”

 

They do dance, and Adam doesn’t exactly give Katy back—“He dances better than you,” she tells Kris, but he looks so crestfallen she dances with both of them at the same time—but it’s awesome and Adam thinks he could live forever on the high of the laughter as they tangle up and stumble into each other until there’s a perfect little bump and grind and Katy is suddenly the very giddy jelly in an Adam-and-Kris sandwich.

 

They’re still giggling, still a little unsteady on their feet, as they exit the dance floor to raucous applause, and they take exaggerated bows, Kris looking just a little awkward but ecstatic and Adam thinking he hasn’t had this much fun since the AI season ended, though that hasn’t been so long ago now. 

 

They’re instantly pressed in on by round-bellied men in suits with martinis and scotches, all of them regarding Kris and Allen with a kind of gleam in their eyes that means money and contracts and publicity, and Adam’s thinking that maybe his publicist won’t kill him after all when he sees a flash of blond hair by the patio doors.

 

And it’s not like that cute guy he saw thirty minutes ago was the only blond at the party, but Adam thinks he remembers those shoulders too, and he’s wriggling his way out of conversations like an eel getting through a fishnet before he can even think twice about it.

 

He hopes he doesn’t look too eager, like a clumsy little puppy, but his heart’s beating double-time already and all he can see is the guy’s tuxedo-clad back disappearing onto the patio.

 

Settle down, he tells himself.  You don’t even know if he’s gay.  But that’s a silly caution, because Adam’s gaydar has always been pretty darn good except for one or two lesbians who totally slipped by unnoticed, and he blames that on the fact that he wasn’t interested.

 

There’s no one on the patio when he finally gets through the doors, and he panics, looking for any way the guy might have escaped.  Maybe he’s not much on parties and was trying to find a discreet way of leaving early.  Maybe he was already meeting someone for a tryst and now he’s—

 

“Hi,” a voice says behind him, and Adam was so right, this guy is so gay, and so very much the boy next door that if Adam looked up the phrase in the dictionary, it would have his wholesome, blond-haired, blue-eyed picture next to the entry with that sweet, shy smile.

 

“H-hi,” Adam says, and he could kick himself for not having anything more interesting to say.  He’s been caught, though, and now he’s doing his best to come up with a legitimate excuse for having chased the guy out here.  “I, um… do you have a cigarette?”

 

“Sorry,” he says, and there’s that smile again—just a little crooked, and it makes Adam’s heart lurch kind of sideways in his chest.  “I don’t smoke.”

 

“Neither do I, really.  I just… that party was getting a little….”

 

“You seemed like you were having a good time,” the guy says, and the smile gets wider so that Adam can see teeth now, and fuck, he’s never been turned on by a guy’s teeth before.

 

“Ah.”  Adam thinks he can feel himself blushing, and he hopes it comes off as cute rather than awkward.  Or if it’s awkward, maybe at least this guy likes awkward.  “So you saw…?”

 

There’s a laugh, open and genuine if still a little self-conscious, and Adam wants to know his name right now so he can start imagining how it sounds when it’s whispered—or screamed.

 

“You were pretty hard to miss.”  There’s something in his tone right there that zings right up Adam’s spine and tells him yes, this is reciprocal, and yes, he’s getting some.

 

“Adam,” he says, reaching out his hand for a shake.  He intentionally leaves off the last name, because after months of publicity, he can’t take a chance on being unknown to people even if they don’t watch Idol

 

“Lance.”  Adam’s already mentally rolling the name over in his mind, and he thinks that Lance is going to sound best in a hoarse shout.  He can live with that. 

 

Lance’s hand is warm and dry, and it slides just right against Adam’s palm.  It’s a firm grip, but Adam thinks he can take the chance—and if he’s wrong, well, it’s gonna suck.  But he’s sure he’s not wrong.  He turns their hands so that the back of Lance’s is facing up and he leans over, giving Lance plenty of time to pull away.  He doesn’t—and Adam can’t help his smirk because damn, Neil always says gaydar is made up, but Adam knows better—and Adam leans over the last few inches and kisses the skin just below Lance’s wrist.

 

Lance’s fingers twitch just lightly in his grasp, but he’s still not trying to pull away, and Adam takes the chance further than he’d originally intended, turning Lance’s hand over again to kiss the palm.

 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Lance says, and it would sound prim if not for the breathlessness around the edges, and Adam can’t help laughing. 

 

“Do you mind if I sit?” Adam asks, gesturing to the bench Lance is perched on.  Lance scoots over to give him room, and Adam sits.  He would have made a joke about kneeling at Lance’s feet all night, but he gets the feeling that the hand-kissing was as far as he can push the potentially-corny gestures in a short period before he starts losing credibility.  He does, however, sit just a little too close.  On purpose.

 

“Your girlfriend isn’t going to come looking for you in a minute and beat me over the head, is she?”

 

Adam gives Lance a strange look at this question.  “My…?  Oh!  The girl I was dancing with!  No.  She’s married to the other guy.  They’re just my friends.”  He smiles winningly. “I’ve never even had a girlfriend.”

 

Lance looks relieved, and Adam can’t help asking.

 

“Has that ever happened to you?”

 

“Assault by angry girlfriend?”  Lance laughs, a short burst of sound, and Adam is instantly charmed.  “Once.  In college.”  Lance is staring at the ground in front of them, but he’s smiling.  “I swear I didn’t know he even had a girlfriend.  If I had, I never would have had my hands down his pants at a college party.  On the couch.  In the living room.”

 

Now Adam’s the one who’s laughing, though he thinks the look on his face might well be called “delighted horror.”  It’s such a Jerry Springer moment, but he can’t imagine this young man next to him being anything but painfully honest.  It’s possibly even more appealing than those even, white teeth that Adam has been fantasizing about on his skin since he saw Lance grin a minute ago.

 

“Wow, that sounds… bad.”

 

“It was.”  Lance looks up at the sky and then cuts his eyes over to Adam, and Adam’s brain short-circuits.  “So bad.”

 

Then there’s that smile, and Adam is leaning toward him before he even really knows what he’s doing.  He stops halfway, surprised at himself, waiting to see how Lance will react.

 

“You know,” Lance says, and he’s leaning too, now.  “I usually end up talking politics at these things.”  His mouth curves up, one corner higher than the other, and his eyes go half-lidded.  “With lesbians.”  He’s closer now, and Adam may have stopped breathing.  “I haven’t been laid in months.

 

“Fuck, you know how to sweet-tal—mmph.”

 

Adam grabs the edge of the bench they’re sitting on so he won’t just climb into Lance’s lap, but damn, the man knows how to kiss.  It’s like he’s starving, and Adam’s the best thing he’s tasted in his entire life, and it’s full of gentle nibbles and deep licks and the happiest, hottest whimpery noises Adam has ever heard ever, and that’s including in high quality porn.

 

“Oh, fuck.”

 

Adam feels the words against his mouth more than he actually hears them, and he nods, dazed.  “How long do you have to stay here?”

 

“Here?”

 

“At the party?  How—”

 

“Oh.  Um.  I don’t know.  I can’t—I just—I need—can I, please…?”

 

Adam is pretty sure that finding stammering sexy means he’s gone, and he wonders how hard Kris would kick his ass if he ditched the party right now to take Lance back to his apartment and finish this somewhere they’re not likely to get arrested.

 

“Yeah,” he says instead, and they’re kissing again, and this time clutching the bench isn’t enough to stop Adam from straddling Lance’s thighs, and he’s got his fingers in that blond hair, and it’s amazing, and when the doors out to the patio open, he’s got Lance’s lower lip between his teeth and Lance’s hand on his ass, and he’s pretty sure he’s in heaven.

 

“I found him!” Kris shouts, and Adam looks up, dazed, a little annoyed, a lot pleased with himself.  Katy appears over Kris’s shoulder and hoots with laughter.

 

“Get a room, freak!” she yells, throwing a set of car keys at him.  They’re hers, and Adam laughs as he throws them back. 

 

“I’ve got my own car, thanks,” he tells her, sticking out his tongue.  The one Lance had been sucking on not long before.  The thought makes him go hot all over, and he shivers.

 

Kris rolls his eyes and goes back into the party, dragging Katy along and closing the doors behind them.  Lance’s got his face buried in Adam’s shoulder, and he’s shaking just a little.  Adam pulls back just enough to try to see his face, but Lance follows him.

 

“Are you okay?”  He tries to make his voice soft, tries to sound non-threatening.  Some people just aren’t okay with being caught in public.

 

Lance gasps, and Adam can’t tell if he’s laughing or crying.  He hopes it’s the former. 

 

“That went a lot better than the other time….”

 

Adam buries his face in Lance’s hair and laughs with him, and when he inhales, it’s the most amazing scent of ginger and lime, and he thinks that if he knew where to buy that shampoo, he’d probably stay hard every time his hair fell into his face.  Which would be… all the time.  Might make shows more interesting.

 

“Um,” Adam says when Lance doesn’t try to move and his knees start going numb from being braced on the stone bench.  “I really do have my own car.  Unless you… y’know.  Need to stay.”

 

Lance looks up at him then, both hands skimming up Adam’s sides in a way that’s just on the right side of ticklish and makes him shiver.  “I think that depends.”

 

“On?”

 

“How long you plan on staying.”

 

“Only as long as I need to to take you home with me,” Adam says honestly, and Lance’s smile is the widest yet.

 

Good answer.  Let’s go.”

 

***

 

Adam had fantasies about making it to the bed, because naked and pressed entirely against each other seems like the best thing to be with Lance, but being slammed up against the wall just inside the front door and kissed within an inch of his life is running a close second.

 

Especially when Lance’s fingers sneak past the waist of Adam’s ridiculously tight pants and tease the skin there, close to where Adam wants him and not quite there.  He whimpers into Lance’s mouth and thrusts his hips toward Lance, hoping he takes the hint, but Lance just slides his hand around back.  His fingers rest under the pants, right on the upper swell of Adam’s ass, and Adam is renewing his thoughts of the bedroom, because while against-the-wall sex is kinda fun, he learned his lesson from trying that with his last boyfriend, who was smaller than him or Lance.

 

“You know,” Adam gasps, breaking away from Lance for just a second, squirming as his tight pants are suddenly starting to feel like a bad decision, “I do have a bedroom.  With a bed and everything.”

 

“Are you saying you want to go there?”  There’s something shy in Lance’s tone that gets all mixed up with his sensuality and turns Adam’s knees to jelly.

 

“Fuck, yes, I want to go there.  With you, preferably.”  He kisses Lance again, short and hard this time, and pulls away to gasp, “Damn, you’re sexy.”

 

Lance laughs and rests his head against Adam’s shoulder like he just can’t walk yet.  Adam knows the feeling. 

 

“Yeah, um.”  Lance turns his head and kisses Adam’s neck, and that’s it, it’s like someone lit a sparkler and replaced Adam’s spine with it.  “So are you.  Really sexy.”

 

Lance starts nibbling on Adam’s neck, and he really hates to interrupt this, but if he doesn’t lie down soon, they’re going to end up in a pile on the floor, and it’s just really not that comfortable.  Plus, his sheets are easier to wash than his carpet.

 

He has a sudden mental flash of Lance wrapped in his sheets, and that’s all the motivation he needs to grab Lance’s hand and pull him down the hall, through the living room, to the bedroom, pointing out rooms as he goes.

 

“Living room, kitchen and dining room, bedroom’s here and bathroom’s connected.  I’ll give you a real tour later if you want.”

 

Lance grins at him, and Adam reaches for the buttons of Lance’s shirt, pausing as he touches them.  “This okay?”

 

“Definitely okay.” 

 

They get tangled up more than once, trying to undress each other simultaneously, but Adam is damn near giddy by the time he skims tight black boxer-briefs down Lance’s legs.

 

Then it’s all he can do to keep from saying something really inappropriate and mood-killing, because what he thinks right at that second is about texting Neil to say, “Fuck yes, everywhere.”

 

What he finally manages to get out is, “Can I…?  I need to…” right before he licks right up Lance’s cock and sucks the head into his mouth.  Lance yelps, and his hands go straight to Adam’s hair.  Adam starts pushing Lance backward, knee-walking with him so he doesn’t have to stop running his tongue over the little sensitive spot right under the head, until they finally get to the bed.

 

Lance collapses onto the edge of the bed, and he’s making delicious little noises in his throat that make Adam want to blow his mind even more.  He pulls off Lance’s cock just long enough to peer up at him from between Lance’s knees, tongue darting out for little licks of the shaft and on down toward his balls.  He can’t help noticing that Lance keeps himself well groomed, and his tongue strays over toward the crease of Lance’s thigh.  Lance twitches at the sensation, but he doesn’t try to push Adam away.  If anything, he’s clutching Adam’s head closer.

 

“I really want to make you come like this,” Adam murmurs against Lance’s skin, and the noise Lance makes is worth every bit of rugburn Adam knows he’s going to have on his knees from this.

 

A little trickle of milky liquid makes its way down Lance’s cock and Adam licks it up before he thinks twice about it. 

 

“Condom,” Lance gasps, and Adam knows he has a point, but blowjobs are pretty damn safe, especially since Adam is pretty sure he doesn’t have any cuts in his mouth.

 

“Do we need one for this?” Adam asks, still nuzzling into the crease of Lance’s thigh.  Anal yes, of course, always.  But oral?

 

“Probably not,” Lance admits.  “But just in case.  I’d hate myself if….”

 

Adam gets it.  He’s had the thought, too, of what he would do if he accidentally got someone else sick.  And it seems like it should kill the mood to have to leave Lance there, sprawled on the bed, pretty cock flushed against his pale belly, but the knowledge that Lance is the kind of guy who’s good enough to stop in the middle of a blowjob and insist on a condom… well.  It just makes Adam want to suck him off even more.

 

He almost hates to roll the condom over Lance’s cock, but he does, and Lance hisses when his fingers reach the base and move up over the skin of his groin.

 

“Pretty,” Adam says, half-teasing, right before he goes back to pretending they never stopped.  The latex doesn’t taste nearly as good as Lance did, but that’s all right.  He’ll make it work.

 

Lance allows himself to fall backward on the bed, hands still clutched in Adam’s hair, and Adam slides one hand up over Lance’s stomach to feel the muscles jump and twitch.  The other he keeps holding the condom at the base of Lance’s cock as he hollows his cheeks, sucking like he’s going to pull Lance’s orgasm out of him by sheer force.

 

That earns him a long, drawn out groan, and he takes a break to move down to Lance’s balls, where he can mouth and lick actual flesh instead of latex, and he fills his mouth with Lance’s flavor to the lovely music of Lance whimpering. 

 

“Shit, Adam, please.  I can’t—”

 

And Adam moves up to swallow Lance’s cock whole—or as much as he can, which honestly isn’t as much as he would like—and when it hits the back of his throat, he breathes in through his nose and does his best to keep going.

 

He doesn’t get it all, but he gets enough that Lance sits up suddenly in a move that makes Adam think he must do stomach crunches pretty regularly, and his hands clench in Adam’s hair as he shouts hoarsely and comes.  Adam swallows around the cock in his mouth, imagining that he is swallowing what the condom is catching, and Lance finally falls back, panting like he’s run a marathon.  He gradually loosens his grip on Adam’s head, and Adam feels warm fingers cover his own hand that is resting on Lance’s stomach.  He turns his hand over, and Lance laces their fingers together, smiling down at him over the length of his flushed, sweaty torso.

 

Adam can’t help smiling back, and Lance uses their linked hands to pull Adam up onto the bed, over his body.  Light kisses go deep and lazy, and Adam’s trembling by the time Lance lets him go.

 

“Your turn,” Lance says, and that’s the last warning Adam has before Lance flips him over on the bed and pins him down.  He sits up, straddling Adam’s hips as he strips off the condom.  He winks as he ties the end off and then drops it on the floor.  Adam goes hot and shivery all over, and he’s glad when Lance leans down again to kiss him, trailing kisses from his mouth down his neck and chest and further down.

 

Lance is nice enough to give his cock a few preliminary licks before the condom goes on, although Adam barely feels the latex because Lance is mouthing his balls so gently it’s somewhere on just the right side of ticklish.  Lance looks up at him through a fringe of bangs, and how he still manages to hold onto any innocence of expression is lost on Adam, but he does, and it’s just so fucking hot.

 

Adam wants to watch, but his arms are shaking and he’s having a hard time holding himself up on his elbows, so he flops back on the bed and just feels.  The latex mutes it little, but not enough to matter that much, especially not when Lance is … oh hello!  One of Lance’s hands cups and lifts Adam’s balls, then tickles behind them and rubs firmly across his perineum.  Adam’s thighs jerk and he has to stop from clenching them around Lance’s head because that might make Lance stop and that can never happen.

 

And then there’s some kind of glorious pressure around the head and… did Lance just seriously…?

 

“Oh God!

 

It’s a full thirty seconds before Adam can breathe again, let alone think, and by the time he pries his eyes back open, Lance has taken the condom off him and is sitting beside him on the bed, grinning like a cat that got into the cream.  And, well….

 

Adam reaches up, feeling clumsy and lethargic, and drags the back of his hand down Lance’s bare arm.  “That,” he says, smirking, “was amazing.  Thank you.”

 

“It was my pleasure,” Lance says, and there’s still that shyness there that makes Adam want to tie Lance to the headboard and just eat him alive.  And, hey, maybe if they do this again, Adam can bring up that idea.

 

“You don’t have to go yet, do you?”

 

Lance seems to lean into the caress on his arm, and Adam turns his hand so that his palm is cupping Lance’s biceps.

 

“I probably should, at least sometime soon.”

 

Adam hears the wide-open invitation in that and can’t help grinning at Lance.  “But soon isn’t now,” he points out, closing his hand around Lance’s arm and tugging.  “Stay here for a little while first.”

 

Lance obliges, stretching out alongside Adam on top of the comforter.  Adam reaches over to the other side of the bed and pulls the rest of the comforter around them, shielding them from the air now that the sweat has started to cool on his skin.

 

Adam is pretty blissed out, finally naked and snuggled up to Lance liked he’d wanted to be since almost the first moment he saw him.  He’s drifting off to a hazy sleep when Lance’s breath stirs his hair as he says, “So you’re a cuddler?”

 

“Mm,” Adam confirms, licking the hollow of Lance’s throat.  “And a non-talker, post-coital.”

 

“Sorry,” Lance whisper-giggles, and Adam couldn’t be irritated with him if he wanted to be.  “I’ll remember that.”

 

Adam smiles against Lance’s skin and kisses him again.  “See that you do.”

 

***

Adam wakes to the sound of his cell phone beeping from his pants pocket on the floor—where they belong!—and the feeling of Lance shifting beneath him, checking for his watch.

 

“I need to go,” Lance murmurs, as if speaking loudly would be unacceptable.  “Sorry.”

 

Adam smiles as he stretches, feeling a pleasant languor in his bones.  “Don’t be sorry.  That was amazing.  But could you do one thing for me before you go?”

 

Lance pauses, one leg in his pants, still shirtless.  “Yes?”

 

Adam grins, thinking, Let me take a picture of you like this, but instead he says, “Hand me my phone?  It’s in my pants pocket.”  He points toward the floor.  “I would get it, but I think you sucked my spine out through my dick.”

 

Lance laughs, and Adam’s glad that he found that funny and not annoying.  Lance finishes pulling his pants up and zips them over lean hips—Adam really can’t help pouting at that—and fishes in the pocket of Adam’s discarded pants until he comes up with the phone.  He tosses it to Adam and then picks up his shirt and begins buttoning it.

 

Adam thumbs on his phone and grins when he sees that he has four new text messages—one from Neil (of course), one from Kris, one from Katy, and one from… oh no, his mom.  She’s going to want to know why I haven’t sent her pictures yet.  He peeks over the edge of his phone at Lance, biting his lip as he watches the smooth skin disappear behind Lance’s shirt. 

 

Lance looks up and catches him watching, and there’s a slow, shy grin that creeps over Lance’s face, brightening the sparkle in his eye.

 

“If you’re ever in the neighborhood again,” Adam says, throwing an arm wide in a gesture of welcome.

 

“I’ll look you up,” Lance agrees, leaning over to give Adam a goodbye kiss.  Adam can tell it was supposed to be short, but Lance is an excellent kisser, and next-time promises not withstanding, he’s not sure when he’s going to get this again.  He hooks one hand behind Lance’s head and licks deeper, turning the kiss into something more until they’re both panting and Adam is thinking a little morning-after fun is the best idea going.

 

Unfortunately, Lance really does have to go, a sentiment he conveys with regret as he shrugs into his suit jacket and stuffs the tie into his pocket.

 

“I’ll let you out,” Adam says, starting to sit up.  Lance holds out a hand, his eyes darting down to Adam’s lap, which is barely covered by the comforter.

 

“That’s okay,” he says.  “I can let myself out.  You look comfortable where you are.”

 

Adam knows his grin is the one Neil calls “shit-eating,” and apparently Lance thinks so too, if the wary look on his face is anything to go by.

 

“You’re just afraid you can’t resist the temptation of seeing me naked again, aren’t you?” Adam jokes, and Lance grins and then ducks his head.  It’s so adorable, it’s all Adam can do not to reach out, ruffle his hair, pull him down to the bed and undo all that dressing Lance has just done.

 

“That’s exactly it,” Lance says with a glance out of the corner of his eye.  Another quick kiss, and this time Lance leaves before Adam can make more of it. 

 

As Lance opens the door to his apartment, which Adam can see down a long hallway and across the living room, Adam calls out, “Thank you!”

 

Lance pauses at the door, gives him his own version of a shit-eating grin over his shoulder, and calls back, “Anytime!”

 

The sound of the door closes is far too quiet, not nearly dramatic enough, and Adam flops back on the bed, smiling the goofy smile of the well-laid.  Remembering his text messages, he reaches out for his phone and picks it up again.

 

Neil: “SO??? Where is this hot piece of ass you promised me?? Less Eurococks and more Ron Jeremy in the light of day, little brother?”

 

Adam takes a moment to respond: “Less Eurococks and more OHGODYES. Also—who you callin’ little, li’l bro?”

 

He has a feeling he knows what Neil’s getting at there, but if he goes there, in text, Adam’s going to blow his mind.

 

Next, Kris: “You didn’t miss much at the party after you left.  You probably had way more fun than we did—before we left, anyway, hehe.”

 

Adam snickers and opens Katy’s text.

 

“Dang, boy, we heard you all the way over here.  Or we would’ve, if we hadn’t been louder. ;) Don’t ever let Kris tell you shopping for those shoes wasn’t worth it.”

 

Adam kind of can’t help the way his face scrunches up at that, but he can’t stop laughing.  Oh man, is he ever going to give Kris heck about that now.

 

Then his mom’s: “Neil tells me you took a porn star home. I told you to buy XL condoms last week, and you didn’t believe me.  Next time you’ll listen to your mother!”

 

Before he can decide what, or even if, to reply to that, Neil’s next text beeps onto his screen.

 

“Little in the ways that TRULY matter! Don’t believe me? I found a pic from one of your concerts. Dude, when they say rock out with your cock out…”  Adam can feel his forehead wrinkle in confusion, but he scrolls down and finds that Neil has attached a really embarrassing picture of a big-haired arena rocker wearing ripped jeans… and one of the rips is in a very unfortunate place. 

 

Adam laughs for five minutes solid, though he feels a little bad for it, and writes Neil back.  He hates to say it, but he’s pretty sure Neil has won this round.  Next time, though….

 

“Man, you’d think he’d feel a draft. Although maybe there’s not enough surface area to tell…”

 

He forwards the picture to Kris and Katy, just for fun, and then decides that it’s time to get up and get a shower and get a start on his day.

 

When he catches himself smiling at his reflection in the mirror as he brushes his teeth, he just shakes his head and laughs.