Word Concentration - Adam Hills/Hamish Blake Standalone
Title: Word Concentration
Author: imagination55
Pairing: Adam Hills/Hamish Blake
Part: 1/1 - Standalone
Rating: R - inventive games but, more importantly, bad language too. And a tiiiiny dash of angst. :)
Summary: Times when you can't sleep are a bitch. Unless you have your very own pretty boy sleeping next to you, of course.
Disclaimer: The following situation is fictional. Apart from the fact that they did kiss on television for all the world to see. That's real. :)
A/N: I bring fic. Unexpected Naked OTP! Yay? Borne out of a YouTube Cycle Of Doom where I stumbled upon Adam Hills being all host-like on a show called Spicks & Specks and furthermore a clip where he kissed *see icon* one of the panellists, Hamish, one week. This = me a very happy fangirl. :)
It feels like he’s been awake for hours. Maybe he has. The light is surprisingly strong through his bedroom, even with the curtains still drawn. Damn Australian sunshine. Adam shuts his eyes, shuts out the light (he’ll learn not to do that at the important time), counts to ten and then moves on to willing himself back to sleep. Of course it doesn’t work. He looks up but knows that he doesn’t have any ceiling tiles to count. It’s just plain, blank. His mind is too blank, unable to tire himself out back into slumber, as faint, thin slats of shadows play across the scope above him. His eyes stray though, head turning, to regard who’s sleeping next to him.
Hamish has found his way onto his stomach through the night (Adam is sure of this as he remembers what position they were in when last night ended) and with his hair ruffled, mouth slightly open and his face a picture of relaxation, he looks impossibly younger. Adam blows out an annoyed breath, that’s all he needs, his colleague fuck buddy lover Hamish taking more years off his age without actually doing anything. Absently, quickly, he leans closer and kisses Hamish’s parted lips just for that. He’s spent most of his life dealing with insecurities that surface, remaining upbeat. He’s not about to start feeling old.
Hamish is unresponsive to Adam’s kiss. Now that’s a first! Then again, he was tired out last night, Adam reflects with a grin. He shoves Hamish in the shoulder then surreptitiously sidles closer just before the other man blearily begins to open his eyes. They’re usual, teasing brightness is dimmed a little in the natural light of the room, not so blue, but his eyelashes are darker, butterfly fluttering, flirting, as he blinks his dreams away. Adam props himself up on one elbow, something to do, otherwise he’s going to kiss him again, but with more force behind the motion and who knows where that could lead. Well, they do, but he’s feeling playful, not horny.
“Morning, young grasshopper” he says, using a voice that’s not his own, although he’s not sure what he’s trying to achieve with it.
Hamish smiles all the same, loose like Adam’s rarely seen him before (so not the time for wisecracks) and this time he really does move that extra few inches to kiss him, undeniably delighted when it’s reciprocated, albeit chastely and lazily. Typical Aussie, so laid back he’s almost…oh. There’s no ‘almost’ about it. Adam’s finger brushes over Hamish’s bare shoulder, drawing aimless shapes then pressing a kiss to the golden skin once he’s done, erasing the work of his Etch-A-Sketch boredom. It sparks an idea.
“What time is it? Uh, hey, what’re you doing?” Hamish asks his second question without waiting for an answer to the first as Adam kisses his shoulder a few times, leans further in to kiss his back then up, once, to his nape.
He feels Hamish squirm subtly against his roaming lips.
“Don’t care about the time” he says into sleep warmed flesh, “What d’you say to a game…?”
“Shouldn’t you,” there’s a pause, Hamish closes his eyes briefly and his mouth opens fractionally wider but no sound comes out, “save that for the show?”
Adam’s got the hand that’s not propping him up splayed against Hamish’s lower back and he knows it’s distracting him now or feeding him memories from hours before.
Adam chuckles, a naughty, knowledgeable laugh, “Oh, Hamish, this isn’t a game fit for television”
Hamish snorts a laugh too, “Maybe if you’d thought of that before jumping my bones in front of the nation…”
“Trust me, you’d know if I jumped your bones” he pretends to think for a moment, “Oh wait, you do!”
Despite trying to appear manly and hide it, colour pinks Hamish’s cheeks a little, his smirking façade slipping, “Smug bastard”
“You have so much left to learn” Adam laughs, flexing the fingertips resting on Hamish’s back and feeling the resulting shiver as he shifts position. “Okay, here’s what you have to do, and by the way I’ve been awake for hours, so if you can make me fall back to sleep, I’ll-”
“-Take your time giving me a blowjob instead of those measly quickies in your dressing room before recording the show?”
Adam ignores the quip, distantly filing away the suggestion in his mind because the fucker has a point, but he’d hate to admit it. He’s supposed to be the one in charge, the one with the ideas and know-how, dammit.
“Just guess what word I’m writing” he instructs, neglecting to mention how he’ll be writing his chosen words and on what.
“That’s easy!” Hamish scoffs, but he sounds pleased too, finally something that he can excel at intellectually without other people interrupting and ruining his chances.
“Yeah?” Adam counters, slowly moving so he doesn’t give away a hint of how this is going to play out.
“Ye-Jesus Christ!”
“Sorry, just practicing” he gleefully replies, dragging the tip of his tongue across Hamish’s back again to now fully illustrate his intentions and what ‘the game’ entails, “Guess the word” he adds softly, “I’ll even write it in capital letters”
“Oh God” Hamish groans, half in resignation because he already feels like he’s at Adam’s mercy, he’ll do anything after such a simple, spine tingling move, and half in anticipation for having to last the actual span of a word.
He decides to take pity on the guy and plumps for a word that is actually easy, ‘writing’ with a lazy, deliberate sweep and his palm still hot against Hamish’s skin, pressing him down into the mattress. C-A-T. It seems oddly fitting for the man beneath him, languid and staring with big, pleading eyes, waiting for attention then demanding it whenever Adam feigns indifference or, worse, pins someone else with his gaze who doesn’t have cute hair and sharp wit.
He’s lost for a second but rushes back into early morning reality when he hears Hamish sigh, like he’s about to go back to sleep. Adam jabs him roughly in his side with a finger and he makes an indignant noise but opens his eyes nonetheless, only for Adam to throw him a narrowed, expectant look.
“Come on, this something you can do”
Hamish’s quirked eyebrow disappears underneath the ruffled hair across his forehead and Adam grins back, “So I’m a charity case now? A pity fuck?”
“Yeah, right, sure” Adam says sarcastically then shakes his head, “No, I just like seeing how far you’ll let me be in control”
“Petri Dish Boy” he mumbles, getting comfortable, but it’s not to sleep, “I like it. I like you.”
Adam spots Hamish’s eyes snap open, suddenly alert, and although he tries not to, he knows that he’s probably wearing the same expression on his face. Hamish clears his throat nervously, maybe even feeling a little embarrassed.
“I mean, I, uh, I like you being in control. Age before beauty, after all”
There’s a thin wire of tension between them now, even after Hamish’s hurried attempt to bring their attention back onto safer ground, so Adam puts his age of experience (he’ll get him back for that one, however lame it was) into use and pulls level with Hamish’s head and kisses him, hard, one hand possessive, reassuring, against his cheek.
“Cat” Hamish whispers when they break away for air, eyes glazed and unfocused.
The realisation that he’s finally, properly awake has millions of ideas and images flooding into Adam’s mind and he frowns at what Hamish just said, “What?”
“Cat. The word”
“Right. Yeah.” he figuratively stumbles, turning to sit up in bed and look around.
Adam feels Hamish roll over and sit up too, staying a little behind his right shoulder. They don’t touch but the space is charged and someone’s got to say something to relieve it once more or the complexity to this fledgling…thing is going to go down a road neither are ready to travel just yet. Not until coffee has been had anyway. And lots more sex. Perfect problem solving. Or, y’know a distraction.
Adam’s senses are still crowded; everything he wants to do and say is closing in but Hamish, funny, surprisingly sweet Hamish saves the day. Adam can see Hamish staring at the side of his face as he focuses on anything but the man beside him, waiting.
“What’s the matter?” he asks and Adam swivels to stare back at him, shocked at how gentle and serious he sounds, “Lost a limb?”
He’d missed the downright wicked glint in Hamish’s eyes and they’ve returned to the familiar, trading barbs grounded in good nature, mischief and a dash of all conquering lust. Wordlessly, Adam twists and knocks Hamish back down onto the bed with strong hands then follows the motion so they’re nose to nose. Hamish looks wonderfully off balance and Adam grins, slow, before moving lower, eyes fixed to the younger man’s. He’s halfway down Hamish’s body when he speaks again.
“Close your eyes”
This time there’s no question, protest or a quip and Adam thinks he’s really going to enjoy sending him into a frenzy. He lets his tongue circle Hamish’s navel before a swipe and a dip. He can feel stomach muscles clench, a futile attempt at a wriggle away and he can sense Hamish is about to say something.
Adam gets there first, “Keep those eyes shut”
He’s looking at Hamish for a fraction longer as he dutifully can’t see what’s going on and notices the small smile adorning his boyish face, “I thought you liked my eyes”
“I do” Adam chuckles, “They’re just not needed for this. Guess again”
For the second word, and with Hamish laid on his back, Adam can’t help but make his ministrations broader. It’s hardly about the game anymore; it’s just an excuse to taste, to feel the wet scrape of his tongue dance across flesh he touched the night before. Hamish arches underneath his hold and Adam feels his cock bump against his body for a moment, the sensation hitting him like a freight train. He concentrates avidly despite this and creates the first word that he can think of.
“L…” Hamish recites slowly, trying to picture the word in his mind and getting cute little frown lines between his eyebrows, which increases, not something Adam planned, “It’s not love, is it? Oh, really, Adam, you shouldn’t have”
Adam breathes deeply, unsure of what he’s feeling at that, no matter that Hamish’s tone is light. Relief that he knows Hamish’s guess is wrong? Disappointment that that’s not the word he’s been thinking of? Uncomfortable for even bringing up that word now?
“Easy, tiger” he says, gentle mocking, “This is me you’re talking to, not your girlfriend. Again?”
“Mm-hm”
He’s more than happy to oblige, adding a couple of strokes with his thumbs to Hamish’s hipbones for good measure, not caring that it’ll probably distract him further and make it more difficult.
“L-U…” he starts straight away before his nose wrinkles adorably. This has got to stop! “Lust?! Couldn’t you have been more, I dunno, inventive? You’re a comedian, apparently, for crying out loud!”
“Right, that’s it!” Adam announces sharply, grabbing a proper hold on Hamish’s hips to make sure he goes absolutely nowhere and to ready himself for the knockout task, “You’ve asked for it now”
Hamish grins, flashing his teeth, briefly pressing his toes to Adam’s left ankle, which causes him to growl. He plants an open mouthed kiss to a few ribs in retaliation then begins his third and, they both suspect, his final word. Well, actually, he cheats a little and it’s more of a phrase.
“I want…” Hamish waits as Adam continues enough for him to piece the rest together, “…to…oh, hell!”
His gasp is muffled by a hand clamping across his mouth and Adam tries not to shake with too much mirth, caught on a wince as he gets fingers twisting and tugging at his hair for his quite literal, mischievous trouble. He regrettably abandons his detour to the erection he wants to get his mouth on and instead follows Hamish’s lead for once, leaning up properly so that they can kiss, like it’s the guy’s prize.
Except Adam’s shocked when Hamish rolls them both over and proceeds to straddle his lover’s lap.
“That’s fine by me” Hamish replies to Adam’s none too subtle wish, tossing any sheets left to the edge of the bed and rocking his hips so that this really is a show and a half.
Adam can’t seem to say or do anything as Hamish sits astride him, preparing himself with saliva slicked fingers and giving Adam’s cock a teasing, appreciative stroke every so often. Thoughts are rapidly decreasing and even vanishing completely as this goes on but he manages to grab onto some before there’s only heat and slick and fucking and Hamish filling his whole surroundings.
He’ll be off on his travels again soon, out into the big, wide, glorious world, and although he wouldn’t give this up right now, there’s something he secretly knows will happen and it makes him gleeful and invigorated (which Hamish clearly benefits from when he arrives back on home soil, don’t you worry about that) - a pretty boy always, luckily, seems to need his help.
FIN.
Author: imagination55
Pairing: Adam Hills/Hamish Blake
Part: 1/1 - Standalone
Rating: R - inventive games but, more importantly, bad language too. And a tiiiiny dash of angst. :)
Summary: Times when you can't sleep are a bitch. Unless you have your very own pretty boy sleeping next to you, of course.
Disclaimer: The following situation is fictional. Apart from the fact that they did kiss on television for all the world to see. That's real. :)
A/N: I bring fic. Unexpected Naked OTP! Yay? Borne out of a YouTube Cycle Of Doom where I stumbled upon Adam Hills being all host-like on a show called Spicks & Specks and furthermore a clip where he kissed *see icon* one of the panellists, Hamish, one week. This = me a very happy fangirl. :)
It feels like he’s been awake for hours. Maybe he has. The light is surprisingly strong through his bedroom, even with the curtains still drawn. Damn Australian sunshine. Adam shuts his eyes, shuts out the light (he’ll learn not to do that at the important time), counts to ten and then moves on to willing himself back to sleep. Of course it doesn’t work. He looks up but knows that he doesn’t have any ceiling tiles to count. It’s just plain, blank. His mind is too blank, unable to tire himself out back into slumber, as faint, thin slats of shadows play across the scope above him. His eyes stray though, head turning, to regard who’s sleeping next to him.
Hamish has found his way onto his stomach through the night (Adam is sure of this as he remembers what position they were in when last night ended) and with his hair ruffled, mouth slightly open and his face a picture of relaxation, he looks impossibly younger. Adam blows out an annoyed breath, that’s all he needs, his colleague fuck buddy lover Hamish taking more years off his age without actually doing anything. Absently, quickly, he leans closer and kisses Hamish’s parted lips just for that. He’s spent most of his life dealing with insecurities that surface, remaining upbeat. He’s not about to start feeling old.
Hamish is unresponsive to Adam’s kiss. Now that’s a first! Then again, he was tired out last night, Adam reflects with a grin. He shoves Hamish in the shoulder then surreptitiously sidles closer just before the other man blearily begins to open his eyes. They’re usual, teasing brightness is dimmed a little in the natural light of the room, not so blue, but his eyelashes are darker, butterfly fluttering, flirting, as he blinks his dreams away. Adam props himself up on one elbow, something to do, otherwise he’s going to kiss him again, but with more force behind the motion and who knows where that could lead. Well, they do, but he’s feeling playful, not horny.
“Morning, young grasshopper” he says, using a voice that’s not his own, although he’s not sure what he’s trying to achieve with it.
Hamish smiles all the same, loose like Adam’s rarely seen him before (so not the time for wisecracks) and this time he really does move that extra few inches to kiss him, undeniably delighted when it’s reciprocated, albeit chastely and lazily. Typical Aussie, so laid back he’s almost…oh. There’s no ‘almost’ about it. Adam’s finger brushes over Hamish’s bare shoulder, drawing aimless shapes then pressing a kiss to the golden skin once he’s done, erasing the work of his Etch-A-Sketch boredom. It sparks an idea.
“What time is it? Uh, hey, what’re you doing?” Hamish asks his second question without waiting for an answer to the first as Adam kisses his shoulder a few times, leans further in to kiss his back then up, once, to his nape.
He feels Hamish squirm subtly against his roaming lips.
“Don’t care about the time” he says into sleep warmed flesh, “What d’you say to a game…?”
“Shouldn’t you,” there’s a pause, Hamish closes his eyes briefly and his mouth opens fractionally wider but no sound comes out, “save that for the show?”
Adam’s got the hand that’s not propping him up splayed against Hamish’s lower back and he knows it’s distracting him now or feeding him memories from hours before.
Adam chuckles, a naughty, knowledgeable laugh, “Oh, Hamish, this isn’t a game fit for television”
Hamish snorts a laugh too, “Maybe if you’d thought of that before jumping my bones in front of the nation…”
“Trust me, you’d know if I jumped your bones” he pretends to think for a moment, “Oh wait, you do!”
Despite trying to appear manly and hide it, colour pinks Hamish’s cheeks a little, his smirking façade slipping, “Smug bastard”
“You have so much left to learn” Adam laughs, flexing the fingertips resting on Hamish’s back and feeling the resulting shiver as he shifts position. “Okay, here’s what you have to do, and by the way I’ve been awake for hours, so if you can make me fall back to sleep, I’ll-”
“-Take your time giving me a blowjob instead of those measly quickies in your dressing room before recording the show?”
Adam ignores the quip, distantly filing away the suggestion in his mind because the fucker has a point, but he’d hate to admit it. He’s supposed to be the one in charge, the one with the ideas and know-how, dammit.
“Just guess what word I’m writing” he instructs, neglecting to mention how he’ll be writing his chosen words and on what.
“That’s easy!” Hamish scoffs, but he sounds pleased too, finally something that he can excel at intellectually without other people interrupting and ruining his chances.
“Yeah?” Adam counters, slowly moving so he doesn’t give away a hint of how this is going to play out.
“Ye-Jesus Christ!”
“Sorry, just practicing” he gleefully replies, dragging the tip of his tongue across Hamish’s back again to now fully illustrate his intentions and what ‘the game’ entails, “Guess the word” he adds softly, “I’ll even write it in capital letters”
“Oh God” Hamish groans, half in resignation because he already feels like he’s at Adam’s mercy, he’ll do anything after such a simple, spine tingling move, and half in anticipation for having to last the actual span of a word.
He decides to take pity on the guy and plumps for a word that is actually easy, ‘writing’ with a lazy, deliberate sweep and his palm still hot against Hamish’s skin, pressing him down into the mattress. C-A-T. It seems oddly fitting for the man beneath him, languid and staring with big, pleading eyes, waiting for attention then demanding it whenever Adam feigns indifference or, worse, pins someone else with his gaze who doesn’t have cute hair and sharp wit.
He’s lost for a second but rushes back into early morning reality when he hears Hamish sigh, like he’s about to go back to sleep. Adam jabs him roughly in his side with a finger and he makes an indignant noise but opens his eyes nonetheless, only for Adam to throw him a narrowed, expectant look.
“Come on, this something you can do”
Hamish’s quirked eyebrow disappears underneath the ruffled hair across his forehead and Adam grins back, “So I’m a charity case now? A pity fuck?”
“Yeah, right, sure” Adam says sarcastically then shakes his head, “No, I just like seeing how far you’ll let me be in control”
“Petri Dish Boy” he mumbles, getting comfortable, but it’s not to sleep, “I like it. I like you.”
Adam spots Hamish’s eyes snap open, suddenly alert, and although he tries not to, he knows that he’s probably wearing the same expression on his face. Hamish clears his throat nervously, maybe even feeling a little embarrassed.
“I mean, I, uh, I like you being in control. Age before beauty, after all”
There’s a thin wire of tension between them now, even after Hamish’s hurried attempt to bring their attention back onto safer ground, so Adam puts his age of experience (he’ll get him back for that one, however lame it was) into use and pulls level with Hamish’s head and kisses him, hard, one hand possessive, reassuring, against his cheek.
“Cat” Hamish whispers when they break away for air, eyes glazed and unfocused.
The realisation that he’s finally, properly awake has millions of ideas and images flooding into Adam’s mind and he frowns at what Hamish just said, “What?”
“Cat. The word”
“Right. Yeah.” he figuratively stumbles, turning to sit up in bed and look around.
Adam feels Hamish roll over and sit up too, staying a little behind his right shoulder. They don’t touch but the space is charged and someone’s got to say something to relieve it once more or the complexity to this fledgling…thing is going to go down a road neither are ready to travel just yet. Not until coffee has been had anyway. And lots more sex. Perfect problem solving. Or, y’know a distraction.
Adam’s senses are still crowded; everything he wants to do and say is closing in but Hamish, funny, surprisingly sweet Hamish saves the day. Adam can see Hamish staring at the side of his face as he focuses on anything but the man beside him, waiting.
“What’s the matter?” he asks and Adam swivels to stare back at him, shocked at how gentle and serious he sounds, “Lost a limb?”
He’d missed the downright wicked glint in Hamish’s eyes and they’ve returned to the familiar, trading barbs grounded in good nature, mischief and a dash of all conquering lust. Wordlessly, Adam twists and knocks Hamish back down onto the bed with strong hands then follows the motion so they’re nose to nose. Hamish looks wonderfully off balance and Adam grins, slow, before moving lower, eyes fixed to the younger man’s. He’s halfway down Hamish’s body when he speaks again.
“Close your eyes”
This time there’s no question, protest or a quip and Adam thinks he’s really going to enjoy sending him into a frenzy. He lets his tongue circle Hamish’s navel before a swipe and a dip. He can feel stomach muscles clench, a futile attempt at a wriggle away and he can sense Hamish is about to say something.
Adam gets there first, “Keep those eyes shut”
He’s looking at Hamish for a fraction longer as he dutifully can’t see what’s going on and notices the small smile adorning his boyish face, “I thought you liked my eyes”
“I do” Adam chuckles, “They’re just not needed for this. Guess again”
For the second word, and with Hamish laid on his back, Adam can’t help but make his ministrations broader. It’s hardly about the game anymore; it’s just an excuse to taste, to feel the wet scrape of his tongue dance across flesh he touched the night before. Hamish arches underneath his hold and Adam feels his cock bump against his body for a moment, the sensation hitting him like a freight train. He concentrates avidly despite this and creates the first word that he can think of.
“L…” Hamish recites slowly, trying to picture the word in his mind and getting cute little frown lines between his eyebrows, which increases, not something Adam planned, “It’s not love, is it? Oh, really, Adam, you shouldn’t have”
Adam breathes deeply, unsure of what he’s feeling at that, no matter that Hamish’s tone is light. Relief that he knows Hamish’s guess is wrong? Disappointment that that’s not the word he’s been thinking of? Uncomfortable for even bringing up that word now?
“Easy, tiger” he says, gentle mocking, “This is me you’re talking to, not your girlfriend. Again?”
“Mm-hm”
He’s more than happy to oblige, adding a couple of strokes with his thumbs to Hamish’s hipbones for good measure, not caring that it’ll probably distract him further and make it more difficult.
“L-U…” he starts straight away before his nose wrinkles adorably. This has got to stop! “Lust?! Couldn’t you have been more, I dunno, inventive? You’re a comedian, apparently, for crying out loud!”
“Right, that’s it!” Adam announces sharply, grabbing a proper hold on Hamish’s hips to make sure he goes absolutely nowhere and to ready himself for the knockout task, “You’ve asked for it now”
Hamish grins, flashing his teeth, briefly pressing his toes to Adam’s left ankle, which causes him to growl. He plants an open mouthed kiss to a few ribs in retaliation then begins his third and, they both suspect, his final word. Well, actually, he cheats a little and it’s more of a phrase.
“I want…” Hamish waits as Adam continues enough for him to piece the rest together, “…to…oh, hell!”
His gasp is muffled by a hand clamping across his mouth and Adam tries not to shake with too much mirth, caught on a wince as he gets fingers twisting and tugging at his hair for his quite literal, mischievous trouble. He regrettably abandons his detour to the erection he wants to get his mouth on and instead follows Hamish’s lead for once, leaning up properly so that they can kiss, like it’s the guy’s prize.
Except Adam’s shocked when Hamish rolls them both over and proceeds to straddle his lover’s lap.
“That’s fine by me” Hamish replies to Adam’s none too subtle wish, tossing any sheets left to the edge of the bed and rocking his hips so that this really is a show and a half.
Adam can’t seem to say or do anything as Hamish sits astride him, preparing himself with saliva slicked fingers and giving Adam’s cock a teasing, appreciative stroke every so often. Thoughts are rapidly decreasing and even vanishing completely as this goes on but he manages to grab onto some before there’s only heat and slick and fucking and Hamish filling his whole surroundings.
He’ll be off on his travels again soon, out into the big, wide, glorious world, and although he wouldn’t give this up right now, there’s something he secretly knows will happen and it makes him gleeful and invigorated (which Hamish clearly benefits from when he arrives back on home soil, don’t you worry about that) - a pretty boy always, luckily, seems to need his help.
FIN.