Fic: Ride a White Horse
title: Ride a White Horse
pairing: Adam/Brad
rating: NC-17
words: 1600
warning: barebacking (established relationship)
summary: Brad gives Adam a show.
disclaimer: this is totally made up and I don't at all claim to know what Brad and Adam's sex life was like. don't link this fic (or any of my fics) to anyone even remotely involved.
a/n: off the cuff PWP, unedited, unbetaed. just needed to write something random and new and easy tonight, maybe it'll get me motivated on all my WIPs. title from a Goldfrapp song.
also on ao3
The lights are off, but Brad has their strobe on, so it flashes rhythmically in time to the music. He’s dressed in enough sparkly things that the light flashes off in a million different directions and it’s almost hard to focus on the hard lines of his body. Adam catches brief glimpses of movement in the flashes as Brad dances, swinging his hips in an exaggerated side-to-side swivel, arching his back until his shoulders are almost level with his ass. His knees bow out, to keep his balance and to give Adam an excellent view of his dick through his tiny, tight shorts.
The music’s pumping loud enough that Adam can feel it in his bones. It’s almost like being at a club, watching Brad dance for everyone on whatever platform or table is available, except it’s intensely different, because Adam’s slouched on his own bed, with the smell of Brad on the pillows and blankets surrounding him, and Brad’s dancing just for him.
The thin excuse for a shirt stretches as Brad pulls it over his head, and then he tosses it to the floor. The shimmery, multicolored glitter of the shirt has rubbed off on Brad’s chest, and he still shines in the flashing light. He hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and fans his fingers out over the tops of his thighs. Adam rolls his neck narrows his eyes as if Brad can actually see his expression.
Brad turns around to take them off, head turned halfway towards Adam and chin lifted smugly, and then he drags the fabric slowly down his legs to reveal his bare ass. Adam really should have guessed Brad hadn’t been wearing anything underneath, but it somehow catches him by surprise. He gets his legs under him and rocks to his knees, crawling down to the end of the bed. He darts his arm out and grabs Brad’s shoulder, knocking him off balance and dragging him backwards to the bed.
Brad kicks the shorts off his ankles and follows Adam’s lead, squirming up the bed until he can get his head on the pillows. Adam straddles him and strokes his hands slowly down Brad’s body, shoulders, chest, hips, thighs, dipping around to cup his ass and lift him up. Brad’s still moving to the music; subtle little thrusts of his hips, slight rolls of his shoulders against the bed. His eyes are closed, too.
Adam leans in and bites Brad’s collarbone hard. Brad still doesn’t open his eyes, but he circles his arms around Adam and holds him close, pressing his dick up against Adam’s stomach wordlessly. Adam strokes the bite with his tongue until Brad shivers and then moves over a little to repeat the process. When Brad has four separate marks around the top of his chest like a fucked-up necklace, Adam sits up.
Brad’s eyes are open now, and his lips are moving, but Adam can’t hear him over the music. He might even be singing along, Adam can’t tell. Adam takes Brad’s shoulders in his hands and hauls him upright, and they kiss for several long moments, until the songs crossfade and change. The tempo is similar enough for them to keep up the same slow, sensual pace, but it’s a harder song, a harsher beat, and Adam changes his style to match.
He nibbles at Brad’s lips, breaks the kiss to scrape his teeth along the sharp line of Brad’s jaw, ducks his head lower to feel the throb of Brad’s pulse beneath his tongue. He bites there, where he can track the quickening of Brad’s heartbeat, and then sucks a bruise into Brad’s pale skin. Brad tilts his head back, exposing himself for Adam and Adam’s teeth and tongue and lips, and Adam feels the vibrations of a moan he can’t hear in Brad’s throat.
Adam wraps his arms around Brad’s back and rolls them down and around, so he’s on his back on the bed and Brad’s lying on top of him. Brad automatically rearranges their legs and straddles Adam’s thighs, pushing himself up on his hands and knees to hover above and drop sharp-edged kisses all over Adam’s face.
Adam reaches over and pops the cap on the bottle of lube by feel; he watches as well as he can as he pours some onto his fingers just because he doesn’t want to spill it all over their pillows. Brad gives him enough space to do so, but as soon as Adam reaches his hand around to Brad’s ass, Brad’s on him like a leech, licking and sucking and biting bruises into Adam’s throat and encouraging him on. Adam slides slick fingers between Brad’s thighs and up to his hole and slowly presses one all the way in. The second finger follows quickly, and Adam twists his head to catch Brad’s mouth in a kiss as he moans.
Adam spends more time working his third finger into Brad’s ass, more to draw it out and play than because Brad needs the slow stretch. Brad’s panting against Adam’s throat, his lips slippery and open as he drags his mouth over Adam’s skin aimlessly. Adam uses his free hand to position his cock between them, and when he withdraws his fingers, he smears the excess lube on himself. He doesn’t waste time in pushing in; Brad pushes back onto him and Adam relinquishes control of the pace.
Brad sits up and rocks back onto Adam’s cock. His smooth chest is shimmery with more than glitter now; Adam reaches up and lays his palm in the middle of Brad’s sternum and slowly draws it down, sliding easily through the thin sheen of sweat, until he reaches Brad’s cock.
Brad lets go of Adam and raises his arms above his head. He closes his eyes and starts moving to the beat of the music again. Adam lets it happen and tries to follow the pace with his hand. It’s hard to look away from Brad-always, really, but especially now that he’s losing himself in the beat and throb of the music.
They both manage to keep the pace slow, in time with the music, until the song changes again and releases them. It’s an even slower tempo, now, but Brad doesn’t seem to care. He speeds up the gentle rocking motion of his hips and leans down over Adam to kiss him. Adam sucks Brad’s tongue into his mouth and lays his hands on Brad’s hips, stilling him. He hums into Brad’s mouth and starts them moving again, slow this time, following the beat of the new song.
Brad lets out a frustrated noise but he doesn’t fight Adam’s pace. He braces himself on his forearms, an elbow on the pillow on either side of Adam’s head, and breathes hot, damp air across Adam’s cheeks. There’s sweat beading on Adam’s forehead and he resists reaching between them to wipe it away.
Adam maintains the excruciatingly slow pace until the song ends, when Brad leans down to nibble at the bruises he left on Adam’s throat and voice his frustration again. Adam can’t make out any words, he’s not even sure if Brad’s actually talking or just humming, but he doesn’t resist this time. Brad sits upright again and clamps his thighs tight around Adam’s hips. Adam takes the hint and lets go of him, stretching his arms up and grabbing the edge of the pillow, just for something to squeeze.
Brad splays his left hand on Adam’s stomach-Adam’s not sure if it’s to hold him still or to steady Brad as he lifts himself up and down on Adam’s cock-and uses his right to fist the base of his dick. He grips himself tightly, and Adam can see in the tension in his arm and the strain in the lines of his face that Brad’s holding himself back in a big way. That alone is enough to bring Adam right to the edge, and he grits his teeth and twists his fists in the pillowcase, trying to wait.
Brad starts stroking himself, slowly at first, but then he speeds up to match the quickening pace he’s riding Adam’s cock. Adam’s helpless to slow things down, and he can’t hold on any longer; his hands fly to Brad’s thighs, nails digging in enough to hurt, and he thrusts up as much as Brad will let him. Brad leans back and braces himself with a hand on Adam’s knee, then he lets himself go.
Adam watches as well as he can as Brad strokes himself off-his ass is squeezing around Adam’s dick and it’s honestly very distracting, and the flashing lights are making it even harder to focus. He can’t miss the wet splash of Brad’s come on his stomach, though, and he releases Brad’s thighs to smear his fingers through the mess. Brad leans back on both hands after he’s come, staring down at Adam with a smugly satisfied expression.
Adam lets out a heavy sigh and shifts his hips beneath Brad. As much as he’d love to stay enveloped in that tight heat forever, their come is starting to get sticky and uncomfortable, and Adam really wants to clean up. He urges Brad up with gentle hands on his hips, and Brad flops onto his back, his head down at the foot of the bed and his feet up by Adam’s face. Adam rolls to his side and kisses Brad’s calf.
The music’s still too loud for them to make themselves heard, but Adam hums an I love you into Brad’s skin before rolling off the side of the bed and fetching a washcloth from the bathroom.
fin.
pairing: Adam/Brad
rating: NC-17
words: 1600
warning: barebacking (established relationship)
summary: Brad gives Adam a show.
disclaimer: this is totally made up and I don't at all claim to know what Brad and Adam's sex life was like. don't link this fic (or any of my fics) to anyone even remotely involved.
a/n: off the cuff PWP, unedited, unbetaed. just needed to write something random and new and easy tonight, maybe it'll get me motivated on all my WIPs. title from a Goldfrapp song.
also on ao3
The lights are off, but Brad has their strobe on, so it flashes rhythmically in time to the music. He’s dressed in enough sparkly things that the light flashes off in a million different directions and it’s almost hard to focus on the hard lines of his body. Adam catches brief glimpses of movement in the flashes as Brad dances, swinging his hips in an exaggerated side-to-side swivel, arching his back until his shoulders are almost level with his ass. His knees bow out, to keep his balance and to give Adam an excellent view of his dick through his tiny, tight shorts.
The music’s pumping loud enough that Adam can feel it in his bones. It’s almost like being at a club, watching Brad dance for everyone on whatever platform or table is available, except it’s intensely different, because Adam’s slouched on his own bed, with the smell of Brad on the pillows and blankets surrounding him, and Brad’s dancing just for him.
The thin excuse for a shirt stretches as Brad pulls it over his head, and then he tosses it to the floor. The shimmery, multicolored glitter of the shirt has rubbed off on Brad’s chest, and he still shines in the flashing light. He hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and fans his fingers out over the tops of his thighs. Adam rolls his neck narrows his eyes as if Brad can actually see his expression.
Brad turns around to take them off, head turned halfway towards Adam and chin lifted smugly, and then he drags the fabric slowly down his legs to reveal his bare ass. Adam really should have guessed Brad hadn’t been wearing anything underneath, but it somehow catches him by surprise. He gets his legs under him and rocks to his knees, crawling down to the end of the bed. He darts his arm out and grabs Brad’s shoulder, knocking him off balance and dragging him backwards to the bed.
Brad kicks the shorts off his ankles and follows Adam’s lead, squirming up the bed until he can get his head on the pillows. Adam straddles him and strokes his hands slowly down Brad’s body, shoulders, chest, hips, thighs, dipping around to cup his ass and lift him up. Brad’s still moving to the music; subtle little thrusts of his hips, slight rolls of his shoulders against the bed. His eyes are closed, too.
Adam leans in and bites Brad’s collarbone hard. Brad still doesn’t open his eyes, but he circles his arms around Adam and holds him close, pressing his dick up against Adam’s stomach wordlessly. Adam strokes the bite with his tongue until Brad shivers and then moves over a little to repeat the process. When Brad has four separate marks around the top of his chest like a fucked-up necklace, Adam sits up.
Brad’s eyes are open now, and his lips are moving, but Adam can’t hear him over the music. He might even be singing along, Adam can’t tell. Adam takes Brad’s shoulders in his hands and hauls him upright, and they kiss for several long moments, until the songs crossfade and change. The tempo is similar enough for them to keep up the same slow, sensual pace, but it’s a harder song, a harsher beat, and Adam changes his style to match.
He nibbles at Brad’s lips, breaks the kiss to scrape his teeth along the sharp line of Brad’s jaw, ducks his head lower to feel the throb of Brad’s pulse beneath his tongue. He bites there, where he can track the quickening of Brad’s heartbeat, and then sucks a bruise into Brad’s pale skin. Brad tilts his head back, exposing himself for Adam and Adam’s teeth and tongue and lips, and Adam feels the vibrations of a moan he can’t hear in Brad’s throat.
Adam wraps his arms around Brad’s back and rolls them down and around, so he’s on his back on the bed and Brad’s lying on top of him. Brad automatically rearranges their legs and straddles Adam’s thighs, pushing himself up on his hands and knees to hover above and drop sharp-edged kisses all over Adam’s face.
Adam reaches over and pops the cap on the bottle of lube by feel; he watches as well as he can as he pours some onto his fingers just because he doesn’t want to spill it all over their pillows. Brad gives him enough space to do so, but as soon as Adam reaches his hand around to Brad’s ass, Brad’s on him like a leech, licking and sucking and biting bruises into Adam’s throat and encouraging him on. Adam slides slick fingers between Brad’s thighs and up to his hole and slowly presses one all the way in. The second finger follows quickly, and Adam twists his head to catch Brad’s mouth in a kiss as he moans.
Adam spends more time working his third finger into Brad’s ass, more to draw it out and play than because Brad needs the slow stretch. Brad’s panting against Adam’s throat, his lips slippery and open as he drags his mouth over Adam’s skin aimlessly. Adam uses his free hand to position his cock between them, and when he withdraws his fingers, he smears the excess lube on himself. He doesn’t waste time in pushing in; Brad pushes back onto him and Adam relinquishes control of the pace.
Brad sits up and rocks back onto Adam’s cock. His smooth chest is shimmery with more than glitter now; Adam reaches up and lays his palm in the middle of Brad’s sternum and slowly draws it down, sliding easily through the thin sheen of sweat, until he reaches Brad’s cock.
Brad lets go of Adam and raises his arms above his head. He closes his eyes and starts moving to the beat of the music again. Adam lets it happen and tries to follow the pace with his hand. It’s hard to look away from Brad-always, really, but especially now that he’s losing himself in the beat and throb of the music.
They both manage to keep the pace slow, in time with the music, until the song changes again and releases them. It’s an even slower tempo, now, but Brad doesn’t seem to care. He speeds up the gentle rocking motion of his hips and leans down over Adam to kiss him. Adam sucks Brad’s tongue into his mouth and lays his hands on Brad’s hips, stilling him. He hums into Brad’s mouth and starts them moving again, slow this time, following the beat of the new song.
Brad lets out a frustrated noise but he doesn’t fight Adam’s pace. He braces himself on his forearms, an elbow on the pillow on either side of Adam’s head, and breathes hot, damp air across Adam’s cheeks. There’s sweat beading on Adam’s forehead and he resists reaching between them to wipe it away.
Adam maintains the excruciatingly slow pace until the song ends, when Brad leans down to nibble at the bruises he left on Adam’s throat and voice his frustration again. Adam can’t make out any words, he’s not even sure if Brad’s actually talking or just humming, but he doesn’t resist this time. Brad sits upright again and clamps his thighs tight around Adam’s hips. Adam takes the hint and lets go of him, stretching his arms up and grabbing the edge of the pillow, just for something to squeeze.
Brad splays his left hand on Adam’s stomach-Adam’s not sure if it’s to hold him still or to steady Brad as he lifts himself up and down on Adam’s cock-and uses his right to fist the base of his dick. He grips himself tightly, and Adam can see in the tension in his arm and the strain in the lines of his face that Brad’s holding himself back in a big way. That alone is enough to bring Adam right to the edge, and he grits his teeth and twists his fists in the pillowcase, trying to wait.
Brad starts stroking himself, slowly at first, but then he speeds up to match the quickening pace he’s riding Adam’s cock. Adam’s helpless to slow things down, and he can’t hold on any longer; his hands fly to Brad’s thighs, nails digging in enough to hurt, and he thrusts up as much as Brad will let him. Brad leans back and braces himself with a hand on Adam’s knee, then he lets himself go.
Adam watches as well as he can as Brad strokes himself off-his ass is squeezing around Adam’s dick and it’s honestly very distracting, and the flashing lights are making it even harder to focus. He can’t miss the wet splash of Brad’s come on his stomach, though, and he releases Brad’s thighs to smear his fingers through the mess. Brad leans back on both hands after he’s come, staring down at Adam with a smugly satisfied expression.
Adam lets out a heavy sigh and shifts his hips beneath Brad. As much as he’d love to stay enveloped in that tight heat forever, their come is starting to get sticky and uncomfortable, and Adam really wants to clean up. He urges Brad up with gentle hands on his hips, and Brad flops onto his back, his head down at the foot of the bed and his feet up by Adam’s face. Adam rolls to his side and kisses Brad’s calf.
The music’s still too loud for them to make themselves heard, but Adam hums an I love you into Brad’s skin before rolling off the side of the bed and fetching a washcloth from the bathroom.
fin.