We'll Go Dreaming
Title: We'll Go Dreaming
Pairing: Mark Cavendish/Adam Hansen
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This is not real, this never happened. I don't know them and this is all fiction. Made up stuff.
Author's Notes: Takes place after the first stage of the Tour of Ireland. For morganmuffle.
---
"Have you considered maybe just being happy you were there?"
Mark turns, startled, only to find Adam leaning against the doorframe of their hotel room. He folds his arms across his chest, looking crossly at Adam.
"Shut it." He tries to keep the pout out of his voice, ignoring the fact that Adam's right. Always right about shit like this. Narrows his eyes, glaring, but Adam just smiles a little disarmingly, making Mark frown hard.
"Sorry." Adam finally says with a shrug and Mark's pretty certain that Adam's not sorry at all. Not that he could blame him. But really, he didn't need to go on about the interview like that. Mark's gotten enough of that from his parents, his friends, and pretty much everyone else.
"So what if I'm depressed?" His voice breaks just slightly and he turns away. Walks toward the hotel window, half-heartedly willing Adam to go off and bother Eisel or anyone who isn't him.
Adam doesn't answer and the room is so quiet that Mark thinks maybe Adam's left and he just missed it. He turns abruptly from the window, surprised to find that Adam's still there. Arms crossed now, leaning against the wall. The door's shut behind him and they're alone.
Mark frowns; turns away again and stares out the window. It's heading toward dusk, the sun setting and Mark doesn't want to do anything except go to sleep. Even though he knows if he tries, he'll just toss and turn until morning and then he'll be crap on the bike. He almost turns, almost shoves Adam away to go sulk in the shower, but he never gets the chance.
Adam's hand on his lower back, and he doesn't know when Adam moved. He didn't hear it, didn't even notice. He sighs, too lost in his own thoughts to care about anything else. He frowns harder as Adam's fingers slowly start to move, rubbing just slightly. Mark has trouble finding his voice, and when he speaks, it's barely above a whisper.
"Did I ... Did I at least thank the team?" The question makes him feel stupid, but all he remembers is winning and then thinking about how great it would have been to do it at the Olympics. Turns his head, catching Adam's gaze, holding it.
A smile plays across Adam's lips before he answers. "Mark ..." Stops and then starts again. "Yeah, you did."
Mark just nods, unable to figure out what to say. Everything he'd wanted to say, all that shit piling up in the back of his mind just sort of slips away. Sinks into the depths of the depression that's eating away at him. It's been there ever since he got home from Beijing, when he could finally stop pretending to be happy about China. Of course, he'd neglected to remember that people don't forget easily and there he was, sharing a bit too much with everyone. Not that he wanted to lie, but ...
His thoughts trail off when Adam cups his face in his hand. Doesn't say anything, just holds him gently. Mark lifts his head a little, not quite looking at Adam. He feels Adam watching him, looking right through him and he wants to pull back. But he doesn't, knows Adam won't let him and then Adam leans in. Mouth against Mark's and this is what he missed. In Beijing, by himself without really every being alone, Adam is what he missed. Not as much as gold medals or even a bronze, but he knows Adam doesn't care about that. Won't ever care.
Adam trails his fingers down Mark's face, against his throat, stroking lightly. Down further, over Mark's shoulders as he deepens the kiss, until he can rest his hands on Mark's hips. Mark's fingers curl in Adam's shirt, gripping it tightly. He opens his mouth against Adam's, stepping in close and he knows they can't keep doing this.
Adam nudges his fingers under the hem of Mark's shirt, brushing them against skin. He rubs lightly, pressing back against Mark. The room spins a little and Mark shifts, pressing his face against Adam's neck. He clings a little, letting Adam hold him. He breathes in, deep shaky breaths he only uses when he's disappointed in himself. Adam wraps his arms around Mark, tugging him toward the bed.
"We can't ..." He protests, but Adam just grins a little at him.
He pushes Mark onto the bed, then crawls on top of him. "We won't." Breath hot against Mark's face and god, he wants Adam.
Pushes his hips up, pressing them against Adam, who grinds down before he can stop himself. Mark hooks a leg around Adam's, pulling him down hard, but it never gets any further. Even if Mark wanted to, which he so desperately does, he can't. Too tired, too much energy he can't expend. Adam wraps himself around Mark, holding onto him tightly.
"Win again, and maybe I'll find a way to reward you after the race." Voice low, mouth moving against Mark's neck.
He shifts, pushing Adam onto his side and curls up against him. Adam's arms snake around Mark and he sinks in close, letting Adam hold him. He closes his eyes, sleep eluding him until he hears Adam's breathing even out. Eventually it lulls him to sleep. And when he wakes up, they're still twisted around each other.
Pairing: Mark Cavendish/Adam Hansen
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This is not real, this never happened. I don't know them and this is all fiction. Made up stuff.
Author's Notes: Takes place after the first stage of the Tour of Ireland. For morganmuffle.
---
"Have you considered maybe just being happy you were there?"
Mark turns, startled, only to find Adam leaning against the doorframe of their hotel room. He folds his arms across his chest, looking crossly at Adam.
"Shut it." He tries to keep the pout out of his voice, ignoring the fact that Adam's right. Always right about shit like this. Narrows his eyes, glaring, but Adam just smiles a little disarmingly, making Mark frown hard.
"Sorry." Adam finally says with a shrug and Mark's pretty certain that Adam's not sorry at all. Not that he could blame him. But really, he didn't need to go on about the interview like that. Mark's gotten enough of that from his parents, his friends, and pretty much everyone else.
"So what if I'm depressed?" His voice breaks just slightly and he turns away. Walks toward the hotel window, half-heartedly willing Adam to go off and bother Eisel or anyone who isn't him.
Adam doesn't answer and the room is so quiet that Mark thinks maybe Adam's left and he just missed it. He turns abruptly from the window, surprised to find that Adam's still there. Arms crossed now, leaning against the wall. The door's shut behind him and they're alone.
Mark frowns; turns away again and stares out the window. It's heading toward dusk, the sun setting and Mark doesn't want to do anything except go to sleep. Even though he knows if he tries, he'll just toss and turn until morning and then he'll be crap on the bike. He almost turns, almost shoves Adam away to go sulk in the shower, but he never gets the chance.
Adam's hand on his lower back, and he doesn't know when Adam moved. He didn't hear it, didn't even notice. He sighs, too lost in his own thoughts to care about anything else. He frowns harder as Adam's fingers slowly start to move, rubbing just slightly. Mark has trouble finding his voice, and when he speaks, it's barely above a whisper.
"Did I ... Did I at least thank the team?" The question makes him feel stupid, but all he remembers is winning and then thinking about how great it would have been to do it at the Olympics. Turns his head, catching Adam's gaze, holding it.
A smile plays across Adam's lips before he answers. "Mark ..." Stops and then starts again. "Yeah, you did."
Mark just nods, unable to figure out what to say. Everything he'd wanted to say, all that shit piling up in the back of his mind just sort of slips away. Sinks into the depths of the depression that's eating away at him. It's been there ever since he got home from Beijing, when he could finally stop pretending to be happy about China. Of course, he'd neglected to remember that people don't forget easily and there he was, sharing a bit too much with everyone. Not that he wanted to lie, but ...
His thoughts trail off when Adam cups his face in his hand. Doesn't say anything, just holds him gently. Mark lifts his head a little, not quite looking at Adam. He feels Adam watching him, looking right through him and he wants to pull back. But he doesn't, knows Adam won't let him and then Adam leans in. Mouth against Mark's and this is what he missed. In Beijing, by himself without really every being alone, Adam is what he missed. Not as much as gold medals or even a bronze, but he knows Adam doesn't care about that. Won't ever care.
Adam trails his fingers down Mark's face, against his throat, stroking lightly. Down further, over Mark's shoulders as he deepens the kiss, until he can rest his hands on Mark's hips. Mark's fingers curl in Adam's shirt, gripping it tightly. He opens his mouth against Adam's, stepping in close and he knows they can't keep doing this.
Adam nudges his fingers under the hem of Mark's shirt, brushing them against skin. He rubs lightly, pressing back against Mark. The room spins a little and Mark shifts, pressing his face against Adam's neck. He clings a little, letting Adam hold him. He breathes in, deep shaky breaths he only uses when he's disappointed in himself. Adam wraps his arms around Mark, tugging him toward the bed.
"We can't ..." He protests, but Adam just grins a little at him.
He pushes Mark onto the bed, then crawls on top of him. "We won't." Breath hot against Mark's face and god, he wants Adam.
Pushes his hips up, pressing them against Adam, who grinds down before he can stop himself. Mark hooks a leg around Adam's, pulling him down hard, but it never gets any further. Even if Mark wanted to, which he so desperately does, he can't. Too tired, too much energy he can't expend. Adam wraps himself around Mark, holding onto him tightly.
"Win again, and maybe I'll find a way to reward you after the race." Voice low, mouth moving against Mark's neck.
He shifts, pushing Adam onto his side and curls up against him. Adam's arms snake around Mark and he sinks in close, letting Adam hold him. He closes his eyes, sleep eluding him until he hears Adam's breathing even out. Eventually it lulls him to sleep. And when he wakes up, they're still twisted around each other.