FIC: Bath Time (Adam/Tommy)
Isaac, thanks for tweeting that photo of Tommy! Look what happened after that. :)
Adam has a minute before the next interview starts. He uses it to check his phone.
Soundcheck for the club gig tomorrow is 10:00 pm. Well and good.
His dad is supporting Monte. Gee, thanks, Dad.
He checks Twitter and smiles when he sees Tommy’s tweet to Isaac: go draw me a hot bath
If Adam can’t be relaxing and treating this promo trip like a vacation, then at least his band members can. He’s happy for them.
Then he sees Daddy’s bath is ready and a tiny picture on the small phone screen, and there’s no disguising what it is. Adam’s eyes go so wide, they’re about ready to pop out of his head. He has two immediate thoughts: (1) I’m going to need a gigantic poster version of that photo, and (2) What in the actual fuck is going on back at the hotel?
He stands up fast, dislodging scone crumbs and paper coffee cups from his lap. They skitter across the carpet. He shoves his phone in his pocket and hauls on his coat and scarf and gloves.
“Emergency, I have to go,” he tells the startled assistant. “Can you reschedule me for this interview tomorrow morning? Anytime that works, no matter how early, I’ll make it up to you.”
She nods as Adam races for the elevator.
Fortunately the hotel isn’t too far. He’s knocking on the door to Tommy’s hotel room in less than twenty minutes; Isaac opens it, double-takes, consults his wristwatch and says breathlessly, “Hey, aren’t you being interviewed right now?”
“It finished early,” Adam says, pushing past Isaac.
“Um,” says Isaac, still holding the door open even though Adam’s all the way in, discarding his jacket and scarf and gloves on the nearest bed. The television is blaring, tuned to one of those ridiculously funny British sitcoms. Small, empty liquor bottles are scattered around the room’s surfaces.
“I can’t leave you two alone for a minute, can I?” Adam asks.
Isaac snickers. Clearly he’s been checking Twitter on his phone. “It already got two thousand views.”
Adam nods questioningly at the door to the en suite bath.
“Yep,” says Isaac. “If you need me I’ll be in my own room just down the hall.”
“I won’t need you,” Adam says as Isaac slips out, closing the door gently.
Adam taps on the bathroom door.
“Dude, we’re low on Jag,” Tommy calls from the other side. Adam opens the door carefully, stops in the doorway, enjoying the sight.
Tommy has barely moved since the picture was taken. He looks completely relaxed in the bubble-filled bathtub, a half-empty bottle of Jagermeister propped on the tub’s edge, the mirror steamed over. He’s still wearing his necklaces and bracelets. His eyes are hidden under a washcloth. Unfortunately the bubbles haven’t dissipated but there’s still plenty of pale, damp skin on display, along with the dark ink that covers Tommy’s skinny arms. His lips are curved in a tiny, satisfied smile.
Adam almost hates to destroy the sweet tableau. He sits on the edge of the tub and stretches out his hand to run it along Tommy’s collarbone. Startled, Tommy convulses, giggling and flailing out with his hands. The washcloth falls into the water and Adam finds himself staring deep into Tommy’s big, brown - and, yes, scared - eyes.
“Adam?” Tommy whispers.
Adam smiles beneficently, in an evil way. “Hey, Tommy. Are you comfy?”
Tommy sits up, sloshing water everywhere. The Jag bottle falls into the tub, sinking beneath the waves. Adam plants his hand on Tommy’s chest and pushes him back, gently.
“Don’t get up on my account,” he says, his fingers tangling with the necklaces, playing with the black beads. “All I was doing all day was spending hours with one stranger after another, all of them asking the same damn questions over and over until I thought I would go insane.”
“That sounds, um, bad,” Tommy mutters, staring uncertainly.
Adam purses his lips and cocks his head. “It gets old fast.” He drops his hand into the water by Tommy’s hip, and Tommy flinches away. Adam retrieves the Jag bottle and sets it on the edge again, dripping bubbles. “And then I come back here and what do I find?”
“Dunno, what?” Tommy asks, sounding completely guilty.
“You two stirring up shit on the internet, making a mockery of the promo trip, and just generally getting into all sorts of trouble because you don’t have anything to fill up your time.”
Tommy swallows hard. “We visited the British Museum today. They have mummies.”
“Sounds educational,” Adam says thoughtfully. “But that still leaves the question of what I’m going to do with you.”
“Do with me?” Tommy squeaks.
“Well, yes,” says Adam kindly. “If I don’t teach you a lesson, you might do this again.”
“But we weren’t doing anything!”
Adam’s eyes go wide. “Did you think I thought you were? Although he did draw a bath - a bubble bath no less - for you and clearly was in here with you while you were in the bathtub without a stitch of clothing.”
Tommy grimaces. “I love him like a brother. I wouldn’t do anything with him. He’s married.”
“I’m glad to hear that, because it honestly never occurred to me that you and Isaac would fool around.”
Tommy shudders. “We wouldn’t, of course not.”
“But I still think a spanking is in order.”
Tommy splutters, sitting upright again. “A spanking! Are you fucking kidding me?”
Adam shakes his head.
“Isaac took the picture and posted it!”
“I’m hardly going to spank Isaac.”
“Why not?”
“That’s Sophie’s job.”
“You can’t spank me. I’m older than you are.”
Adam stands up. “I think I can. Want to try my patience?” He folds his arms and waits.
Tommy gapes. “You want me to get up? Now? I’m naked.”
Adam unfolds his arms and gets a fresh fluffy towel from the rack over the toilet. He shakes it out and holds it open.
“Fucking A,” grouses Tommy. “Close your eyes.”
Adam complies, and in a moment hears Tommy climbing out, and the towel is taken from him. He wants to dry Tommy off but apparently that’s not on offer. When he opens his eyes, Tommy is completely wrapped up in the thing, grumpily stomping into the main room like a mummy come to life.
Adam follows laconically and goes to the unused bed, pulling back the covers and sitting down in the middle. He fluffs up several pillows and arranges them to his liking so he can lean back comfortably. He clicks the television off and looks over at the other bed, where Tommy is huddled with his phone.
“I wasn’t kidding about the spanking,” Adam says.
Tommy throws him a glare.
“Do I have to go over there and get you, or are you going to come over here and take it like a man?”
Tommy stares. “You wouldn’t,” he finally says.
“I would,” Adam assures him.
Tommy breathes out gustily. “God damn it,” he says, sliding off the bed and coming over diffidently. “You are so weird.”
Adam smiles and pats his lap. “Just lie down and think of England.”
“I can’t believe you want to do this.”
“You have no idea how much.”
Tommy snorts. “I have an idea.” He climbs awkwardly onto the bed, firmly grasping the towel, knee-walking his way to the middle where Adam is.
“That’s it,” says Adam, “right over my lap. Get comfortable.”
“Fucking freak,” Tommy mumbles into a pillow that he clutches like a lifeline.
Adam rubs softly along Tommy’s exposed spine. His skin is flawless, still warm from the bath, damp and silky. The wet towel between his lap and Tommy’s body is starting to soak his jeans but he doesn’t care. He pulls it aside, exposing Tommy’s slender legs and tiny ass. That ass is not quite non-existent, no matter what Tommy insists. In fact it’s perfect, with just enough curve to fit under his palm.
Tommy sighs and squirms. “Adam,” he sighs, sounding a bit desperate.
Adam strokes the perfect and tiny ass for another minute. He feels Tommy growing hard against his own thigh. He raises his hand and brings it down on Tommy’s ass with a sharp smack.
Tommy yelps.
“Did it hurt?” Adam immediately goes back to stroking.
“Not really,” Tommy mutters, voice muted.
“You know I love your ass, don’t you?” Adam says. He hears a faint freak from the pillow. He smacks Tommy’s ass again, not hard. “Are you going to be better in the future?”
“No,” comes the muffled answer.
Adam spanks him a few more times, never hard, just enough to make the skin begin to blush red. Tommy’s cock is digging into Adam’s thigh. “God, baby,” Adam breathes, “turn over.” He manhandles Tommy off his lap and onto his back, the wet towel getting in the way all over the place. Tommy goes compliantly, lets himself be moved around until Adam is looming over him, stretched out along the bed, his thigh pushed between Tommy’s open legs.
Tommy’s eyes are brimming with unshed tears.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Adam asks worriedly.
“Course not,” Tommy whispers. “Just stings a little.”
Adam wraps Tommy up in his arms and squeezes hard until Tommy emits a tiny eep! The smaller body is shaking in his arms and suddenly Adam is worried. Tommy’s good at hiding when something isn’t what he wanted. Is he crying?
Or, fuck, is he laughing?
Yes, he’s laughing. Adam pulls away far enough to get a look at the traitor’s face. “You little shit,” he says. “What’s funny?”
Tommy presses his forehead against Adam’s shoulder. He’s still shaking just a bit. “You hit like a girl, Adam.”
“Oh, you wanted something more vigorous?” Adam scrubs his knuckles over the shaved side of Tommy’s head.
“Nuh-uh,” Tommy says, letting his head flop onto a pillow so he can look up at Adam. “You know, at first I thought you were actually mad.” The smirk on his pretty lips is almost too cute to bear.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” Adam announces hotly.
“Don’t make me wait,” Tommy replies.
“Just for that, you get to wait.”
Tommy sighs theatrically. “I super-duper hate you.”
Adam nudges his thigh against Tommy’s dick. “Too sensitive?”
“You could take some clothes off, it wouldn’t kill anything.”
Adam laughs. He kisses Tommy’s nose and then stares at him some more. He never tires of staring at Tommy. “You two really should tone it down a bit,” he says more seriously.
“Pfft. Fans enjoyed it.”
Tommy’s phone vibrates on the bedside table. Adam picks it up and reads the display. “Isaac says over six thousand views by now.”
“All promo is good promo. Hey, imagine if it was a sex tape.”
“One of these days,” Adam warns, “you two are going to go too far…”
“I meant with a sex tape with you. And stop talking about other people when we’re in bed. I’m not into threesomes, you kinky fucker.”
Adam sets the phone aside and smushes his lips against Tommy’s, just because they’re so soft and just because he can. “I super-duper love you,” he whispers into Tommy’s ear, reaching down to unzip his own jeans.
"I'm super-duper horny," Tommy fires back.
“I can take care of that,” Adam promises.
Adam has a minute before the next interview starts. He uses it to check his phone.
Soundcheck for the club gig tomorrow is 10:00 pm. Well and good.
His dad is supporting Monte. Gee, thanks, Dad.
He checks Twitter and smiles when he sees Tommy’s tweet to Isaac: go draw me a hot bath
If Adam can’t be relaxing and treating this promo trip like a vacation, then at least his band members can. He’s happy for them.
Then he sees Daddy’s bath is ready and a tiny picture on the small phone screen, and there’s no disguising what it is. Adam’s eyes go so wide, they’re about ready to pop out of his head. He has two immediate thoughts: (1) I’m going to need a gigantic poster version of that photo, and (2) What in the actual fuck is going on back at the hotel?
He stands up fast, dislodging scone crumbs and paper coffee cups from his lap. They skitter across the carpet. He shoves his phone in his pocket and hauls on his coat and scarf and gloves.
“Emergency, I have to go,” he tells the startled assistant. “Can you reschedule me for this interview tomorrow morning? Anytime that works, no matter how early, I’ll make it up to you.”
She nods as Adam races for the elevator.
Fortunately the hotel isn’t too far. He’s knocking on the door to Tommy’s hotel room in less than twenty minutes; Isaac opens it, double-takes, consults his wristwatch and says breathlessly, “Hey, aren’t you being interviewed right now?”
“It finished early,” Adam says, pushing past Isaac.
“Um,” says Isaac, still holding the door open even though Adam’s all the way in, discarding his jacket and scarf and gloves on the nearest bed. The television is blaring, tuned to one of those ridiculously funny British sitcoms. Small, empty liquor bottles are scattered around the room’s surfaces.
“I can’t leave you two alone for a minute, can I?” Adam asks.
Isaac snickers. Clearly he’s been checking Twitter on his phone. “It already got two thousand views.”
Adam nods questioningly at the door to the en suite bath.
“Yep,” says Isaac. “If you need me I’ll be in my own room just down the hall.”
“I won’t need you,” Adam says as Isaac slips out, closing the door gently.
Adam taps on the bathroom door.
“Dude, we’re low on Jag,” Tommy calls from the other side. Adam opens the door carefully, stops in the doorway, enjoying the sight.
Tommy has barely moved since the picture was taken. He looks completely relaxed in the bubble-filled bathtub, a half-empty bottle of Jagermeister propped on the tub’s edge, the mirror steamed over. He’s still wearing his necklaces and bracelets. His eyes are hidden under a washcloth. Unfortunately the bubbles haven’t dissipated but there’s still plenty of pale, damp skin on display, along with the dark ink that covers Tommy’s skinny arms. His lips are curved in a tiny, satisfied smile.
Adam almost hates to destroy the sweet tableau. He sits on the edge of the tub and stretches out his hand to run it along Tommy’s collarbone. Startled, Tommy convulses, giggling and flailing out with his hands. The washcloth falls into the water and Adam finds himself staring deep into Tommy’s big, brown - and, yes, scared - eyes.
“Adam?” Tommy whispers.
Adam smiles beneficently, in an evil way. “Hey, Tommy. Are you comfy?”
Tommy sits up, sloshing water everywhere. The Jag bottle falls into the tub, sinking beneath the waves. Adam plants his hand on Tommy’s chest and pushes him back, gently.
“Don’t get up on my account,” he says, his fingers tangling with the necklaces, playing with the black beads. “All I was doing all day was spending hours with one stranger after another, all of them asking the same damn questions over and over until I thought I would go insane.”
“That sounds, um, bad,” Tommy mutters, staring uncertainly.
Adam purses his lips and cocks his head. “It gets old fast.” He drops his hand into the water by Tommy’s hip, and Tommy flinches away. Adam retrieves the Jag bottle and sets it on the edge again, dripping bubbles. “And then I come back here and what do I find?”
“Dunno, what?” Tommy asks, sounding completely guilty.
“You two stirring up shit on the internet, making a mockery of the promo trip, and just generally getting into all sorts of trouble because you don’t have anything to fill up your time.”
Tommy swallows hard. “We visited the British Museum today. They have mummies.”
“Sounds educational,” Adam says thoughtfully. “But that still leaves the question of what I’m going to do with you.”
“Do with me?” Tommy squeaks.
“Well, yes,” says Adam kindly. “If I don’t teach you a lesson, you might do this again.”
“But we weren’t doing anything!”
Adam’s eyes go wide. “Did you think I thought you were? Although he did draw a bath - a bubble bath no less - for you and clearly was in here with you while you were in the bathtub without a stitch of clothing.”
Tommy grimaces. “I love him like a brother. I wouldn’t do anything with him. He’s married.”
“I’m glad to hear that, because it honestly never occurred to me that you and Isaac would fool around.”
Tommy shudders. “We wouldn’t, of course not.”
“But I still think a spanking is in order.”
Tommy splutters, sitting upright again. “A spanking! Are you fucking kidding me?”
Adam shakes his head.
“Isaac took the picture and posted it!”
“I’m hardly going to spank Isaac.”
“Why not?”
“That’s Sophie’s job.”
“You can’t spank me. I’m older than you are.”
Adam stands up. “I think I can. Want to try my patience?” He folds his arms and waits.
Tommy gapes. “You want me to get up? Now? I’m naked.”
Adam unfolds his arms and gets a fresh fluffy towel from the rack over the toilet. He shakes it out and holds it open.
“Fucking A,” grouses Tommy. “Close your eyes.”
Adam complies, and in a moment hears Tommy climbing out, and the towel is taken from him. He wants to dry Tommy off but apparently that’s not on offer. When he opens his eyes, Tommy is completely wrapped up in the thing, grumpily stomping into the main room like a mummy come to life.
Adam follows laconically and goes to the unused bed, pulling back the covers and sitting down in the middle. He fluffs up several pillows and arranges them to his liking so he can lean back comfortably. He clicks the television off and looks over at the other bed, where Tommy is huddled with his phone.
“I wasn’t kidding about the spanking,” Adam says.
Tommy throws him a glare.
“Do I have to go over there and get you, or are you going to come over here and take it like a man?”
Tommy stares. “You wouldn’t,” he finally says.
“I would,” Adam assures him.
Tommy breathes out gustily. “God damn it,” he says, sliding off the bed and coming over diffidently. “You are so weird.”
Adam smiles and pats his lap. “Just lie down and think of England.”
“I can’t believe you want to do this.”
“You have no idea how much.”
Tommy snorts. “I have an idea.” He climbs awkwardly onto the bed, firmly grasping the towel, knee-walking his way to the middle where Adam is.
“That’s it,” says Adam, “right over my lap. Get comfortable.”
“Fucking freak,” Tommy mumbles into a pillow that he clutches like a lifeline.
Adam rubs softly along Tommy’s exposed spine. His skin is flawless, still warm from the bath, damp and silky. The wet towel between his lap and Tommy’s body is starting to soak his jeans but he doesn’t care. He pulls it aside, exposing Tommy’s slender legs and tiny ass. That ass is not quite non-existent, no matter what Tommy insists. In fact it’s perfect, with just enough curve to fit under his palm.
Tommy sighs and squirms. “Adam,” he sighs, sounding a bit desperate.
Adam strokes the perfect and tiny ass for another minute. He feels Tommy growing hard against his own thigh. He raises his hand and brings it down on Tommy’s ass with a sharp smack.
Tommy yelps.
“Did it hurt?” Adam immediately goes back to stroking.
“Not really,” Tommy mutters, voice muted.
“You know I love your ass, don’t you?” Adam says. He hears a faint freak from the pillow. He smacks Tommy’s ass again, not hard. “Are you going to be better in the future?”
“No,” comes the muffled answer.
Adam spanks him a few more times, never hard, just enough to make the skin begin to blush red. Tommy’s cock is digging into Adam’s thigh. “God, baby,” Adam breathes, “turn over.” He manhandles Tommy off his lap and onto his back, the wet towel getting in the way all over the place. Tommy goes compliantly, lets himself be moved around until Adam is looming over him, stretched out along the bed, his thigh pushed between Tommy’s open legs.
Tommy’s eyes are brimming with unshed tears.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Adam asks worriedly.
“Course not,” Tommy whispers. “Just stings a little.”
Adam wraps Tommy up in his arms and squeezes hard until Tommy emits a tiny eep! The smaller body is shaking in his arms and suddenly Adam is worried. Tommy’s good at hiding when something isn’t what he wanted. Is he crying?
Or, fuck, is he laughing?
Yes, he’s laughing. Adam pulls away far enough to get a look at the traitor’s face. “You little shit,” he says. “What’s funny?”
Tommy presses his forehead against Adam’s shoulder. He’s still shaking just a bit. “You hit like a girl, Adam.”
“Oh, you wanted something more vigorous?” Adam scrubs his knuckles over the shaved side of Tommy’s head.
“Nuh-uh,” Tommy says, letting his head flop onto a pillow so he can look up at Adam. “You know, at first I thought you were actually mad.” The smirk on his pretty lips is almost too cute to bear.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” Adam announces hotly.
“Don’t make me wait,” Tommy replies.
“Just for that, you get to wait.”
Tommy sighs theatrically. “I super-duper hate you.”
Adam nudges his thigh against Tommy’s dick. “Too sensitive?”
“You could take some clothes off, it wouldn’t kill anything.”
Adam laughs. He kisses Tommy’s nose and then stares at him some more. He never tires of staring at Tommy. “You two really should tone it down a bit,” he says more seriously.
“Pfft. Fans enjoyed it.”
Tommy’s phone vibrates on the bedside table. Adam picks it up and reads the display. “Isaac says over six thousand views by now.”
“All promo is good promo. Hey, imagine if it was a sex tape.”
“One of these days,” Adam warns, “you two are going to go too far…”
“I meant with a sex tape with you. And stop talking about other people when we’re in bed. I’m not into threesomes, you kinky fucker.”
Adam sets the phone aside and smushes his lips against Tommy’s, just because they’re so soft and just because he can. “I super-duper love you,” he whispers into Tommy’s ear, reaching down to unzip his own jeans.
"I'm super-duper horny," Tommy fires back.
“I can take care of that,” Adam promises.