Part 1
Adam moves through the party easily; a drink in one hand; the other free to slap someone's back, or pinch someone else's ass; or sling an arm around a shoulder, fake-smile in place as a picture is taken.
The party is a big deal - 10 years of his magazine and at 35, he's at the top of his game; RockOut is selling better than ever, even though every single person he knew back then had told him there was no way a gay skin magazine was going to be successful - especially if he planned to show all of the male anatomy as Robert had said to him right before the magazine launched, a prissy sneer on his face.
But what was the point, Adam thought at the time, of launching a magazine like that for gay men - if it didn't show the goods? That wasn’t his style - all or nothing was the only way to go.
A smile curls his mouth as he watches Brad darting though the crowd towards him; he can't help it. They have ... history, but now Brad's pretty much just a friend (with benefits sometimes, because ... why not? Brad’s still got the prettiest eyes Adam’s seen, and it’s nice, once in a while, to have those eyes - and other things - focused on him) and a fairly awesome photographer, with a scary, chameleon-like ability to be exactly whatever the person on the other side of his lens needs to bring out the best in them.
"Having fun?" Adam asks as Brad winds an arm around his waist, leaning against him easily. He's warm and smells like tequila and cologne; a heady mix for whoever Brad ends up taking home tonight - he never leaves one of Adam's shindigs alone.
"What's the point?" he'd said to Adam once. "You lay out this gorgeous buffet every time. It would be rude to turn my back on it."
"Mmmhmm," Brad says, tucking himself into Adam's side more, and swirling the dregs of his drink around in the bottom of his glass.
"Ten years," he says softly, his eyes roaming around the room - a strange mix of celebrities, pretty boys and girls, and industry high-ups. There are authors and artists scattered about too; respected journalists; columnists; and Adam feels his heart swell a little bit with pride. RockOut might be a gay skin mag, but it's always been so much more than that.
"Yeah," he echoes, stealing Brad's glass and draining it. "Ten fucking years."
Brad leans up and kisses Adam on the cheek; a soft brush of memory that makes Adam smile. "Congratulations, baby. You fucking did it."
Adam smirks again as his eyes roam the room. "We did it," he says; because without Brad's support, and his photos, Adam knows that RockOut wouldn't be half the success it’s become.
He lets his eyes drift over the crowd; taking in some of the pretty boys with a professional eye, and smiling unconsciously when he sees one of his boys looking like they're having a good time.
He can see Tommy and David; heads close together on a couch and that always makes him smile. Tommy was his first - well second if he counts Brad, but Brad always maintains he was never one of the horde, thank you - and David sort of came along by default, having known Tommy for years, and not wanting to be separated. After that, it was just a matter of time before the others came along and before Adam knew it, he was happily living in a mansion with his own private mini-harem of pretty boys.
He has very little to complain about.
Tommy looks up, a quick grin lighting his features, pushing back his long, blond fringe and arching his neck like a contented cat when David whispers something in his ear. Adam's gaze moves on; drifting to where Daz is ... talking? To some actor, Adam thinks, who's drunk, and leaning in way too close but Daz can take care of himself.
Rahab is glittering and gorgeous; charming some studio bigwig and Adam smiles as he watches her move through the room with grace; easily supplying the guy with drinks and chatter; working even though it's a party, and Adam knows he's going to have a phone call in the next few days - looking for advertising space, or offering an A-lister for an interview, because Rahab is always on in a way that Adam envies, even though he's the boss and technically, she doesn't work for him.
Simon is dancing with Jakob in the middle of the tiny dancefloor; their bodies fitting together easily as they just sway in time to the music.
Adam casts his eyes around the room and frowns a little, even as he winds his arm around Brad's narrow waist, resting his hand on his hip.
"Do you see Johnny anywhere?"
Brad cranes his neck and scans the room, his sharp, dark eyes taking in everything around him. "There," he points, finally. Johnny's been cornered by some wife-of an actor, her arms glittering with diamonds and Johnny has his politest, most bland look on his face which spells nothing but trouble later.
Adam half-shrugs. He can deal with Johnny if he has to. Brad's still scanning the room and nudges Adam sharply in the ribs, nodding over to another part of the room.
"Who's the kid? The wide-eyed one being hit on by that asshole I had to shoot for your fucking bear issue?" Adam looks in the direction Brad is pointing in and frowns. The guy - big and muscular; hairy - is looming over the kid who looks terrified - and about 14. Adam knows he's over 18 - this party with its half-naked waiters and waitresses and pole dancers of all genders - is definitely adults only - but he might as well be wearing a "JUST GOT OFF THE BUS FROM THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE" sign around his neck.
Adam shakes his head, frowning. He'd had a couple of agencies send over a bunch of pretty boys - and girls (hey, they might not flip his switch, but he can look at pretty things all day) - to scatter among the guests and guesses the boy came from one of those.
The bear - a big, muscular guy, the tendons in his arm cording as he props it on the wall behind the boy - leans right into his personal space, leering. Adam twitches to move, but Johnny's faster; having seen what was happening, and say what you like about Johnny - that he's a bitch, or a diva, or whatever (all of which are true) - he's protective of what he calls 'new boys' and this boy is so new, Adam would not be surprised to find he's still wet behind the ears.
Johnny moves in; insinuating himself somehow between the bear and the new boy; and Adam knows without hearing what's being said that Johnny's somehow being charming and cutting all at once; one hand laid protectively on the boy's arm as he tilts his head at the bear in the way that means 'bitch, if you don't leave right now I am going to start screaming.'
Adam relaxes when the guy backs off and drifts into the crowd. He takes a closer look at the boy, and looks down at Brad, his eyebrows raised in a silent question.
"I don't know. Haven't seen him around. Looks like he might've come from Kara's."
Adam nods absently, watching Johnny talking to the boy; casually leaning against the wall beside him, subtly blocking him off from other potential predators, and it makes Adam smile.
He does look like one of Kara's boys - he's got the same young, pale slightly-twinky look that most of the boys on her books have and Adam can only smile at that.
Brad's still staring, his gaze intent. "He looks ... really young."
Adam tilts his head down, ignoring the people eddying around them like ocean tides and says, "He does, but he has to be at least 18 to be here - what are you thinking?"
"Hmmm? Oh - just that it's been a while since RockOut did a virgin issue, you know? Lots of pretty boys with wide eyes and open ... minds, looking like they've never been fucked. You know how fast that ... shell comes down in this town."
Adam nods absently, accepting a drink from a waiter wearing little but gold hotpants and a wide smile. He checks the boy's ass as he sashays away - more out of habit than anything - he's got more than his hands full with seven boys living with him as it is, but he can appreciate a nice view.
"A virgin issue," he says thoughtfully, though of course they'd never call it that outside of the magazine itself.
He eyes the boy again, noticing with amusement that Johnny's moved a little bit closer and is saying something in the boy's ear that's making him blush, but he's smiling and it's somehow hot and adorable all at once.
"Mmmhmm. Imagine that boy at the centre of it - all ... milk-fed goodness and wide-eyes. Tell me that there aren't a million gay men out there who would love nothing more than to fuck him into next week."
Adam shifts on his feet and flicks his tongue out; catching a drop of his drink that's hanging from his bottom lip. "And there's at least one man in this room who would happily take one for the team," Brad says, his voice dry as he watches Adam's reaction.
"Funny," Adam says, just as dry, putting his empty glass on the tray of a passing waitress.
"I should circulate. Can't stand here ogling pretty virgins all night."
Brad snorts inelegantly and rolls his eyes. "Uh huh. Mogul," but he pokes out his tongue to show Adam he doesn't really mean it and swirls off into the crowd.
Adam shakes his head and starts working his way through the crowd - making small talk here; charming some bigwig there; subtly keeping an eye on his own boys - and the new boy - at the same time.
The party winds on, and there's a giant cake; out of which bursts one of the waiters, wearing nothing but a sparkly g-string and eyeliner, and Adam laughs, enduring the slightly drunken lapdance with good grace even as he wishes he could just gather up his boys and leave.
Not that he still doesn't enjoy a good party, it's just ... maybe i'm getting old he thinks, as the boy spins away in a dizzying arc of lights and glitter.
He shifts his shoulders restlessly, feeling vaguely dissatisfied. The feeling dissipates when Tommy comes and curls up beside him on one of the plush couches dotting the more shadowy corners of the large hotel ballroom where the party is being held.
"All right?" Adam asks as Tommy leans his head on his shoulder and lets out a contented little noise.
"Yeah. 'M drunk though. Some fucker tried to - to hit on me. So I thought - I'd come find you."
"Uh huh." Adam curls his arm around Tommy's waist, pushing his fringe back when it falls into his eyes. "Where's David?"
"Hmmm? He's with Daz. They're doing shots with some ... drummer. Something. He's with Daz," Tommy says again, turning his head so he's breathing his words against Adam's neck. Adam closes his eyes and lets his shoulders down, feeling tension leach out of them as he just stops for a minute; enjoying the warm boy curled into his side and savouring the fact that this party is for him.
"Ten years," he says softly; not exactly to Tommy, just to feel the shape of the words in his mouth.
Ten. Years.
He'd scraped together the initial capital to start the magazine; borrowing money from his parents and holding his breath when it struggled for the first year.
Then RockOut had published an interview with a highly visible actor who had just come out of the closet alongside some gorgeous black and white nudes of him - shot with incredible sensitivity by Brad.
After that ... RockOut's circulation just kept going up and up, and Robert had had to eat his words, his own magazine - a softer version with polite bare-chested boys peeking shyly at the camera - folding seven months later.
Adam had felt no particular triumph with that - had even offered Robert an editor's position, but he'd refused and ended up starting a very successful independent record label.
"Ten years," Tommy echoes, moving so he's pressed even closer to Adam if that's possible. He kisses Adam's neck and murmurs a sleepy "Congratulations," before leaning his head on Adam's shoulder.
Adam slips his hand under Tommy's shirt and absently rubs his thumb over bare skin; enjoying the small shiver it sends through his body. "Thanks, baby."
The hotel politely kicks the stragglers and hangers-on out at 5am and Adam gratefully tumbles into his ridiculous stretch limo, mentally doing a head-count to make sure everyone is there.
Brad, he knows, has gone off with some jock from the magazine’s most recent issue ("Jocks and Cocks" - not the headline Adam would have chosen himself, but the circulation figures were amazing, so he can't really complain) and soon there's a tired - and more than slightly drunk - pile of boys leaning against each other as they make their way back to the RockOut mansion.
Tommy's curled against him again, almost asleep now, and Rahab is on his other side, tidily going through a pile of business cards that she hands one at a time to Hayden, Adam's assistant, sitting on the other side of the car. Adam watches as Hayden takes the cards and studies the names.
"Anyone interesting?" Adam asks, idly stretching out his long legs and knocking Johnny's boot with his foot. Johnny just rolls his eyes and pulls a face, pointedly leaning over and reading the names on the cards over Hayden's shoulder.
"Couple of names," Hayden says vaguely, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, before shoving Johnny off his shoulder. "I'll look at them tomorrow."
Adam nods, and knocks Johnny's foot again.
"Stop doing that! What?"
Adam just raises his eyebrows and waits. Johnny tries to stare him down, but it's so late it's early, and everyone is tired.
Johnny huffs out an irritated breath and folds his arms. "His name is Chris. He's 19. Usual story. Fell off a bus from ... somewhere. Came to LA with a friend of his who wanted to be an actress. She got a part in some soap or something and ditched him. He's living in some shitty studio apartment - signed on with Kara as a last resort. Done a little modelling, you know - usual stuff. Couple commercials maybe?
"Anyway," Johnny says, wriggling back into his seat and making himself comfortable as he gets further into his story, "He hasn't been able to find anything for a while and with his room-mate bailing on him ... he's about to be evicted. Apart from the fact he's kind of adorable ... he really kind of needs a job before he ends up on the streets, or worse, on the bus back home to ... wherever he said he was from. Which he doesn't want to go back to, he told me.
"He liked the - modelling, or the commercials, or whatever it was - said he liked the attention, people said he was pretty, and the camera likes him. He - wants to find more work like that, he says. Money's good, and it means he wouldn't have to go back home."
Johnny kicks back against Adam's foot, still resting against his ankle and raises his eyebrows. The "Well?" is silent, but everyone in the car can hear it.
Adam rubs his free hand over his face and sighs. He marvels silently for a moment at Johnny’s ability to wring so much information out of a virtual stranger as he rolls his shoulders back; they feel tight under his shirt, and he’s tired. There's no point making the 'I'm not running a charity' speech to Johnny - or any of them really - given the varied circumstances by which they all ended up living with him, but ... he's just not sure if he really needs another project.
However, he is going to need wide-eyed, innocent - or at least innocent-looking boys if they go ahead with the virgin shoot, and they're not going to be easy to come by in LA as it is ...
"Fine," he says, conceding, because it's after 5am and arguing with Johnny is never on his list of things he wants to do, and although he's telling himself that he's conceding because it's easier, the truth is that Johnny's instincts are usually spot-on and he's probably right about this boy, too.
"Fine," he says again. "I'll call Kara about him. Happy?"
Johnny just offers up a smirk and stretches his arms above his head, humming a little. "I'm always happy."
Adam laughs at that, and feels the slight tremor of Tommy's body against his side. "Gonna remember that next time the kitchen's out of that stupid cheese you like," Tommy says, his voice thick with exhaustion and alcohol. Johnny just pulls a face and rests his own head on Jakob's shoulder, his eyes half-closing involuntarily.
The rest of the ride is quiet, and it feels good to get home, like always and Adam watches as everyone scatters: Hayden to his own little apartment at the back of the house; Daz and Simon heading for the kitchen, which means the housekeeper is going to be complaining to Adam tomorrow about the mess they're about to make, but that's nothing new. Johnny winds an arm around Jakob's waist and whispers something in his ear that makes the tips of his ears go red as he nods, ducking his head down when Johnny says something else.
Adam can't hear what it is but he knows it's filthy, and if it weren't so fucking late he'd consider ... "You coming?" Tommy asks. He's leaning heavily against David; his eye makeup smudged and his hair sticking up. He rubs at one eye with the heel of his hand, further smearing it, smiling a slow, sleepy drunk smile.
"I'll be up in a bit," Adam says vaguely, watching as David guides a stumbling Tommy to the stairs.
Rahab rests her chin on Adam's shoulder and he leans back easily, grateful for her silent supportive weight. "C'mon," she says softly. "Keep me company for a while."
Adam nods, following her to her rooms near the back of the house. Adam had been ... indulgent to say the least when he'd had the mansion built and it was big enough for twice as many boys as he had living with him now. While he had entertained the odd idle fantasy about that once in a while, he had to admit, just having seven of them in the house was more than enough for anyone.
Rahab's rooms are tucked around a corner in one wing of the mansion; giving a small illusion of privacy. She's got her own little sitting room, bedroom and bathroom, and Adam finds himself spending a lot of time in here, especially when his days seem like they're going off the rails.
He always seems to find at least one other boy in Rahab's sitting room: asleep on her couch, or curled up in a chair; watching TV or just hanging out. There are plenty of living areas in the mansion but somehow they all gravitate to Rahab's rooms - they're quiet and inviting, and feel set apart from the insanity of the rest of the mansion.
Adam collapses on Rahab's bed, completely ignoring the perfectly made covers, and makes an appreciative groaning noise that he doesn't even try to hide. Rahab just laughs softly as she slowly crawls up the bed until she's straddling Adam's hips, mischief dancing in her dark eyes.
Adam slides his hands around her waist, the silky fabric of her dress slipping through his fingers.
"It's ... late," he says, even as she slips her hand under his shirt, seeking skin; tracing abstract patterns with her fingertips. She hums a small agreement, but moves her hands to the buttons of Adam's shirt anyway, undoing them slowly, not taking her eyes off his face.
"It's late; it's early - does it matter?" she says, as she pushes the shirt aside and scrapes her teeth lightly over a nipple; leaving a streak of red lipstick behind. Adam groans a little, low and quiet; pushing one hand through the sticky product Rahab had put on her hair before the party; the slightly floral scent releasing into the air as he pushes his fingers through the strands.
She looks up at him from under her lashes; thick and dark, and Adam can see tiny black specks on her cheeks from her mascara giving up the fight. He resists the urge to rub his thumb over them as Rahab slowly kisses her way down his chest and stomach; in no hurry.
Adam tucks an arm behind his head, and just watches; enjoying the feeling of Rahab's mouth - lipstick-slick and sticky - and her hands, sliding over his skin.
She opens his pants the same way she unbuttoned his shirt; slowly, teasing the fly down, and Adam can't help shifting his hips a little bit as she pushes his pants down his thighs, skimming her fingers lightly over his cock; half-hard, because it's late, and Adam's a little drunk himself, but Rahab's mouth just curves in a wicked smile before she licks a slow, lazy stripe up the underside, making Adam groan again, and making his cock twitch.
Rahab hums again, gently sucking just the head into her mouth, and Adam can feel himself getting harder, his cock thickening as it pushes past Rahab's generous lips.
He pushes his fingers through her hair again; silently encouraging. Rahab flicks a look up at him, her eyes heated and wide as she slowly sucks Adam's now-hard cock into her mouth, swallowing and savouring each inch.
Adam tips his head back against the pillow and closes his eyes, his fingers still working through Rahab's hair; breaking apart the product-sticky strands. Rahab's mouth is warm and wet around him and it feels kind of amazing. Adam rolls his hips up, lazy and slow; not really fucking into her mouth, just letting her know that he's fully on board, even though he's not really saying anything.
He can feel the curve of her smile and scratches his fingernails lightly into her scalp as she starts to speed up a little bit, and the fact that his cock is probably smeared with bright red lipstick now just makes Adam even harder, and he pushes his hips up again, a little more urgently. Rahab knows him though - knows him well enough to match his upward thrusts with her mouth; knows when to press down on his hips to keep him in place, and Jesus, it's 6am or something, and Rahab's fingertips on his hips feel a lot hotter than they should - Adam tangles his hand in Rahab's hair, grabbing at the short strands as he comes, a cry strangling tight in his throat.
Adam opens his eyes and looks down at Rahab, who's smirking up at him as she gives his soft cock a few gentle licks before moving back up the bed.
Adam curls a hand around her hip and kisses his taste out of Rahab’s mouth; her lips no longer slick with lipstick.
"Happy anniversary," she says, pulling back, her breath catching as Adam slides his hand under her skirt, tracking it slowly up her smooth, warm thigh. Rahab ghosts her mouth along Adam's neck, scraping her teeth over his pulse as he slips one hand inside the waistband of her silk panties, sliding them down over her ass.
Rahab groans quietly in relief as her own hard, leaking cock is freed, and she pulls up her skirts, grinning against Adam's neck as he rubs his thumb over the sensitive tip, before slowly feathering his fingers down the hard length. Rahab slides her hands under Adam's shirt, gripping his shoulders as she breathes out his name against his neck.
"Adam - A-Adam," she groans as Adam strokes, slow and languid at first, but faster and tighter when Rahab's voice devolves into nothing more than breathy moans. She comes, almost as silent as Adam had been earlier, but Adam can feel the tips of her fingers digging hard into his shoulders.
He kisses her quickly, smiling, and rolls on to his back, sparing a quick glance for Rahab's alarm clock. Shit.
"It's after 6," he says, exhausted and dazed. Rahab looks at the clock, and rolls to sitting; perching on the edge of the bed as she quickly strips her clothes, dropping them to the floor, before pulling Adam's boots off. They land on the carpet with a quiet thunk and he lets Rahab strip his pants off, then his shirt.
Rahab settles beside him, and Adam slides a hand down her back, savouring the feeling of smooth skin under his fingers. "Your makeup?" he asks, because Rahab is usually fastidious about taking it off. She yawns and shakes her head before pulling the bedcovers up over both of them and tucking her head on Adam's shoulder.
"I'll get it later," she mumbles, already mostly asleep. "Hangover day."
Adam laughs at that, and wriggles around until they're spooning, his hand splayed out over Rahab's flat stomach. "Mmmmhmm," he mumbles. "Hangover day."
Adam wakes up a few hours later, the vague edges of a headache pushing at his temples, but nothing too bad. Rahab's side of the bed is empty, and he can hear the shower running. He stretches out, savouring the feeling of life coming back into his muscles. He can hear the muted sound of something coming from Rahab's sitting room - cars, and soft voices, but he can’t quite make out who they belong to. Tommy and David maybe, he thinks vaguely, playing some kind of video game.
He grins as Joshua comes out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his hips; his face scrubbed clean.
"Morning," Joshua says, perching on the edge of the bed. Adam drags himself up to sitting, reluctantly and pulls a face. "Morning to you too. Well - afternoon," he amends, glancing at the clock.
"Thank fuck for hangover days."
Joshua laughs easily as he starts getting dressed. "Advantages of being the boss, yeah? You get to make the rules."
"Uh huh. Be nice if it was that easy all the time," Adam says as Joshua pulls a face at him and throws a pair of sweat pants at him. "I'm guessing you don't want to go running around the house naked."
Adam nods, and pulls the pants on - a pair of his that he must have left in Joshua's room at some stage. "I want a bath. For an hour. And then -"
"A boy?" Joshua says, laughing, a hand on one cocked hip. Adam laughs at that, and rubs the side of his head when it echoes through his headache.
"Always," he says, planting a teasing kiss on Joshua's mouth. "I really am going to go upstairs and take a bath. Maybe sleep some more. Can you - can you make sure everyone is around later? About nine maybe? I have something I need to talk to you all about."
Joshua quirks an eyebrow, amused. "Hmmm ... cryptic. But we'll be there, sunshine. Don't worry."
Adam shakes his head and kisses Joshua again, leaving through his sitting room. Daz and Simon are on the couch, bickering quietly over whatever game they're playing, and they both hit pause when they see Adam.
"Simon is cheating," Daz says, almost pouting as Simon nudges him hard in the side. "I'm not. This was your idea. I wanted to -" Adam holds up his hand, his temples throbbing.
"Whatever it is, I don't want to know," Adam says, smiling at them both to take the sting out of his words. "I have a headache, and I'm - tired. I'm going upstairs to take a bath, and get some more sleep. Play nicely. Where's everyone else?"
Daz pouts again, but half-shrugs and settles back against the couch cushions, picking up his controller. "Don't know. I've been in here since I got up."
Simon rubs at his nose and sighs, glaring at Daz. "I think Tommy and David are still asleep - haven't seen them. And Johnny and Jakob are in the studio. Jakob's practising his audition I think, and Johnny's ... helping."
"Helping," Adam echoes, biting his lip. Johnny had had a promising career as an ice-skater as a teen - a career cut short by some kind of injury - he'd never been specific about it; even in the depth of night; curling his lithe body around Adam and whispering his secrets.
Johnny had gravitated naturally to Jakob when Jakob had come to live at the mansion, and it was a natural fit most of the time - Jakob was a dancer, and his life was informed and infused with passion. Johnny understood that, and they were close, but sometimes, Adam knows, watching Jakob dance, hurts Johnny deep down - in the place where the ice-skater that might-have-been lives, and it's something he never lets anyone see - how badly it hurts him sometimes to watch Jakob dance.
Sometimes, though, when it's too much to hold on to, he lets Adam see; or Joshua; but never Jakob.
Adam mentally braces himself for whatever fallout might come his way later and makes his way upstairs, to his own rooms.
He pauses in the doorway of his bedroom; taking in the sight on his bed. He's exhausted; his head hurts and he feels vaguely itchy, but he's never been one to turn down a pretty picture. Hell, that's how he got the mansion and the boys in the first place.
Tommy and David are curled up together in the centre of Adam's very large bed. The covers are a tangle at the bottom of the bed, and both boys are naked; David's lanky frame curled around Tommy's smaller one, one arm flung carelessly across his waist.
David stirs when Adam moves into the room, opening his eyes and blinking slowly. Adam puts a finger to his mouth and points at the bathroom. "Bath," he whispers to David, who nods, and tucks his head back on Tommy's shoulder. Tommy shifts and grumbles, but doesn't wake up.
Adam shakes his head and makes his way quietly across the too-large bedroom to the too-large bathroom, closing the door behind him with something like relief.
He loves all of his boys, in different ways, but sometimes he just needs ... quiet. Adam starts the bath running, fishing in the cabinet for Tylenol; filling a glass with water from the tap. He feels marginally better and strips gratefully, easing his tired body into the hot water.
He tips his head back and lets his mind wander, pondering the news he's going to be sharing in a few hours. Some of them, Adam knows, will take it well - will even be excited.
Johnny for sure, and probably Jakob. David ... Adam's not so sure. David's been living at the mansion with him - with Tommy really - for five years, and Adam still feels like he doesn't know him all that well. Simon ... Adam's not sure what Simon will do; whether he'll agree to be part of it or not. Daz - Adam's pretty sure Daz will love it ... Joshua and Rahab ... Adam smiles at that. Rahab will probably love it, but he's not so sure about Joshua.
And ... Tommy. Adam sighs, and shifts in the cooling water, leaning forward to turn the hot tap on.
Tommy's the one Adam's having the hardest time getting a read on.
He's been with Tommy the longest and he had been completely on board with Adam bringing the others to live with them. In a way it had been Tommy who had planted the idea, because he hadn't wanted to be separated from David and Adam had casually suggested - after he and Tommy had been seeing each other for about six months - that they both move into the mansion.
But how Tommy will react to this ... Adam doesn't know, and if he's honest with himself, as he hauls himself reluctantly out of the bath, he's a little worried. Because if Tommy says no; if he vetoes the project; then it won't go ahead at all.
He absently dries off with a towel, and slips the sweatpants back on again, before heading back out to his bedroom. David's disappeared, but Adam can hear the muted thump of bass through the connecting door to his room, and Adam smiles as his eyes fall on the bed. Tommy's still there; still curled up and sleeping.
Adam glances at his clock, and stretches his neck; his muscles feeling loose from the bath. There's a few hours still, before he needs to talk to the others, and the curve of Tommy's back ... Adam gives in to temptation and slides into bed, curling around Tommy and burying his face in his neck.
Tommy grumbles into his pillow, but shifts to accommodate Adam, who wraps an arm around him and strokes over his bare hip with a thumb.
"You awake, baby?" Adam asks softly, his thumb moving in a hypnotic circle over the jut of Tommy's hipbone.
"No," Tommy mumbles into the pillow, even as he arches into Adam's touch, almost by instinct. "'M asleep. And hungover. Sleeping."
"Uh huh," Adam murmurs, sliding his fingers down Tommy's thigh; earning a small, full-body shudder. "So - should I stop? You want me to stop?" he asks, teasing, as he traces lightly over Tommy's cock - half-hard, but it twitches under Adam's fingers, making him smile against Tommy's neck.
Tommy doesn't say anything, but he pushes - hard - against Adam, which makes him groan; his own cock hardening. Adam pushes his sweatpants off, and fumbles in the nightstand drawer for lube and a condom. Adam resettles behind Tommy, still lying on his side, and slicks up his fingers, sliding one in. He has to bite down a groan when he realises Tommy is still loose from David fucking him earlier.
Tommy pushes back on Adam's fingers, finding an easy, familiar rhythm that Adam flows along with, planting tiny kisses and whispers against the sensitive skin on the back of Tommy's neck. Adam fucks him open slowly with his fingers; not because he needs to, but because he enjoys the sensation: the feeling of his lube slick fingers twisting in and out; Tommy clenching around them as he moans low in the back of his throat.
"Adam ... c'mon ..." Tommy's voice is raspy and rough as he pushes back on to Adam's fingers, impatient; stroking his own cock, which is hard now. Adam just watches over Tommy's shoulder for a moment, mesmerised by the steady rhythm of his hand moving up and down.
Tommy breaks the spell himself; pushing hard against Adam's fingers this time, his head falling back when they ghost over his prostate. "Jesus, Adam, come on."
"So impatient," Adam says, as low as he can without whispering as he slowly draws his fingers out and manages to get the foil off the condom even though his fingers are slippery.
He rolls the condom on and shifts them both slightly before easing into Tommy; slick but still tight, and hot and "Oh ... fuck," Adam breathes out and even after so long; it never gets old or routine, being with Tommy like this. Adam tightens his hand on Tommy's hip as they move together into an easy, slow rhythm.
Adam comes first; biting down on Tommy's shoulder, his hand gripping too tight on Tommy's narrow hip. Tommy follows right after, his orgasm pulled out in little gasps and groans as he strokes himself; faster, and faster, spilling finally on a low moan.
They lie quiet for a while, sweaty and sated, and tired. Adam pulls out gently, tossing the condom before lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. Tommy turns slowly and curls into the crook of Adam's arm.
"Hangover days," he says, slow and sleepy. "I fucking love hangover days."
Adam just laughs and lets himself drift off again; only waking up when Joshua comes in to tell him it's time for "whatever your big announcement is, honey," he says, from where he's sitting cross-legged at the bottom of the bed. "Everyone else is downstairs, and Clarissa and Hayden have put on one hell of a spread."
Adam nods, rubbing at his face as he sits up, prodding Tommy until he unglues himself from Adam's side and pushes himself up, glaring at Joshua.
"What's going on?"
"I asked Joshua to get everyone together. I have ... something I need to talk to you all about."
Tommy stares at him for a minute, blinking. "What is it?"
"I - I wanted to talk to everyone at the same time. Just - can you tell them we'll be down in about half an hour? Really need to have a shower."
Joshua shrugs and rolls off the bed. "Sure, honey. Take your time."
Adam stands up, holding his hand out for Tommy. "C'mon. We can save water."
Tommy pulls a face, but crawls off the bed anyway. "I still want to know what you're being all mysterious about. And how come you didn't tell me before?"
Adam reaches out and turns the water on, stripping his pants off again. "I wanted - I needed to think about it. And - I needed - objective opinions at first." He steps under the water and tips his head back, letting it warm him up as it runs all over his body. He's vaguely aware of Tommy stepping in as well; the water shifting.
Adam drops his head and studies Tommy's eyes as the water beats out a rhythm around them.
"Objective," Tommy echoes, idly, as he picks up the shampoo bottle, handing it to Adam.
Adam grins and tips some out on to his palm. "Turn around. Yes. Objective. I needed ... I don't know. Clarity I guess? The only other person who knows what it is right now is Hayden. That's it."
Adam digs his fingers into Tommy's scalp, massaging the shampoo into his long, thick fringe. Tommy leans back against him, making small, pleased noises, and normally Adam would linger a lot longer, but ... "We have to move. Everyone's waiting, and Daz and Johnny are going to be pissed if we take much longer."
Tommy just leans back heavier for a moment, and Adam braces himself as best he can in the slippery shower, but he's smiling.
"Fine; let's get this show on the road," Tommy says, his voice muffled by the water.
Part 2