Fic: Just Me and You
title: Just Me and You
pairing: Adam/Brad
rating: NC-17
words: 1090
warning: D/s, manhandling, semipublic sex, mild humiliation
summary: For this prompt on Glam_Kink: Rough, dirty, rather possessive sex with super toppy Adam. Calling Brad his boy.
disclaimer: Very untrue. Don't google yourself. Don't pass this along to anyone involved.
a/n: Because sulwen asked for it, I wrote this as a flashback to my Happenstance universe, set back before Adam was famous when he and Brad were together the first time. Also, this fit in nicely with my kink_bingo square of "wrestling/grinding" (more on the grinding side), so I'm killing all kinds of birds with one stone!
on ao3
Adam swings Brad around, hand clenched tight around Brad’s wrist, and shoves him up against a wall beside the bathrooms, pinning his arm behind his back. Brad pushes at the wall, trying to dislodge Adam, but Adam steps up close behind him and leans in, holding him with his entire body.
“You just can’t get enough, can you,” Adam says roughly, grinding his dick against Brad’s barely-covered ass. He jerks Brad’s arm up higher behind his back, feeling Brad’s hand flex open. “Dancin’ like a fuckin’ whore. You want everyone to want you, don’t you?”
“They do,” Brad replies sharply.
“They obviously don’t know how much of a bitch you are,” Adam tells him. “You’re a handful.”
Brad twists and somehow squirms out of Adam’s grip. Suddenly he’s turned around, facing Adam, rubbing his cock against Adam’s thigh. “If you aren’t up to handling me, I could find somebody else,” Brad says, grinning.
Adam grabs him by the chin, forces his face up. “I don’t think so,” he snarls. “Nobody gets to touch you but me.”
“No need to get violent,” Brad mumbles. His cheeks are squished, his lips pushed into a pout by Adam’s fingers. Adam likes the way his hand looks on Brad’s face. He’s so much bigger than Brad; it’s a rush, being able to manhandle him like this. He drags his hand down and circles Brad’s throat.
“You haven’t seen violent yet.”
Brad’s breath goes high and reedy as Adam tightens his hand without thinking. Brad licks his lips, grunts a little as he shifts his weight, trying to balance. “Gonna show me?” he asks.
Adam almost backhands him right there, but someone comes out of the men’s bathroom, zipping his fly, and Adam’s suddenly very aware that they’re not alone. He eases up on Brad’s throat, ignoring Brad’s look of confusion.
“Not here,” Adam tells him quietly.
Brad’s face falls. He paws at Adam’s chest. “Come on,” he whispers. “Please?”
Adam drops his hand. His impulse is to slap Brad across the face, mark up those pretty, pale cheeks with his handprint, but he can’t. Not at this club. He shakes his head.
“Then, what?” Brad asks, frustration radiating through every line of his body.
Adam reaches between their bodies, between Brad’s legs, and squeezes Brad’s cock through his shorts. It’s ridiculously easy to get a grip on him; the stupid shorts are made of lycra or spandex or something, which shows off Brad’s ass beautifully, but also has absolutely no resistance to moisture. Adam can feel the dampness of precome leaking through against his palm.
“Oh, yeah, fuck,” Brad groans, rocking up into Adam’s hand.
“You wanna get off, you do it here,” Adam says under his breath. “Just like this. Can you do it?”
“Fuck you, I can do it.”
“How ‘bout if I let go?”
Adam moves his hand, braces himself against the wall with an arm on either side of Brad’s head, locking him in. Brad changes his stance, maneuvers one leg to the outside of Adam’s, and Adam presses closer, lifting his knee to touch the wall between Brad’s legs. Brad wraps his arms around Adam’s neck, lifting himself up on his toes, and settles himself down on Adam’s thigh, rolling his hips like a fucking stripper.
Adam can feel the hard line of Brad’s cock through his jeans, and when he looks down between them, he can fucking see it too, the clear outline of his cock in those stupid, sexy shorts and the spot at the head where Brad’s precome has soaked through. He slides one hand down to the small of Brad’s back, pulls him closer. Brad arches against him, grinding down hard on Adam’s thigh, so firmly it must be painful. Adam shoves his tongue between Brad’s parted lips and kisses the grimace off his face.
Brad starts making needy, desperate noises in the back of his throat, just out of Adam’s reach though he tries to chase them. He shifts his thigh a bit, gets Brad into a better position, so Adam can rub off against Brad’s hip as well. He’s hard, and it feels good to get some friction on his cock, even through a layer of denim, but he won’t come this way. Brad will. Adam will keep this up until he does.
“You’re a fuckin’ mess,” he says, low and smooth. “Such a slut, rubbing yourself off on whatever you can reach in the middle of a hallway.”
“You’re just lucky you’re in reach,” Brad replies, his voice thick with need. His fingers go tight at the back of Adam’s neck. Adam wants to slap him again, or at least get his hand back around Brad’s throat, cut off his air, shut up him.
“I should fucking beat your ass for that,” he mutters.
“Oh, come on, you left it wide open.”
Adam digs his nails into Brad’s back; his point is dulled a bit by Brad’s shirt, but Brad gasps, so Adam guesses he got the gist. He leans down and bites Brad’s lower lip, hard enough to bloody it. Brad moans loudly and clutches at him, close now.
“You’re gonna go back out there,” Adam tells him, “and you’re gonna dance again, and everyone’s gonna see that big fucking stain on your pants, and they’re gonna know exactly what you’ve been doing.”
“God, Adam,” Brad gasps. “Please.”
“And you’re gonna show off, Brad. Show them how slutty you are, how you couldn’t even wait long enough to make it into the bathroom, how you just begged for it right here, in front of anyone who wants to see.”
Adam’s cock is leaking inside his jeans. He’s not thinking before he speaks; the words are just flowing out of him, and even hotter than the scenario he’s describing is Brad’s reaction to it, the way his face flushes hot and his eyebrows knit together like he’s in pain. Adam crushes Brad to him, forcing his shoulders back against the wall and his hips forward, so he’s shoved up against Adam’s dick. Brad comes with a short, sharp cry and rolls his head to the side, exposing his neck for Adam to bite.
“Go back out there and show them,” Adam commands. “Show off your marks, show off your come. Show ‘em all that you’re owned, and they’ll never have you like this. I’m never letting them touch you. Because you’re mine, Brad, and you’re always gonna be mine.”
“Just me an’ you,” Brad slurs. “Always.”
Adam presses a kiss to Brad’s forehead. “Always.”
fin.
pairing: Adam/Brad
rating: NC-17
words: 1090
warning: D/s, manhandling, semipublic sex, mild humiliation
summary: For this prompt on Glam_Kink: Rough, dirty, rather possessive sex with super toppy Adam. Calling Brad his boy.
disclaimer: Very untrue. Don't google yourself. Don't pass this along to anyone involved.
a/n: Because sulwen asked for it, I wrote this as a flashback to my Happenstance universe, set back before Adam was famous when he and Brad were together the first time. Also, this fit in nicely with my kink_bingo square of "wrestling/grinding" (more on the grinding side), so I'm killing all kinds of birds with one stone!
on ao3
Adam swings Brad around, hand clenched tight around Brad’s wrist, and shoves him up against a wall beside the bathrooms, pinning his arm behind his back. Brad pushes at the wall, trying to dislodge Adam, but Adam steps up close behind him and leans in, holding him with his entire body.
“You just can’t get enough, can you,” Adam says roughly, grinding his dick against Brad’s barely-covered ass. He jerks Brad’s arm up higher behind his back, feeling Brad’s hand flex open. “Dancin’ like a fuckin’ whore. You want everyone to want you, don’t you?”
“They do,” Brad replies sharply.
“They obviously don’t know how much of a bitch you are,” Adam tells him. “You’re a handful.”
Brad twists and somehow squirms out of Adam’s grip. Suddenly he’s turned around, facing Adam, rubbing his cock against Adam’s thigh. “If you aren’t up to handling me, I could find somebody else,” Brad says, grinning.
Adam grabs him by the chin, forces his face up. “I don’t think so,” he snarls. “Nobody gets to touch you but me.”
“No need to get violent,” Brad mumbles. His cheeks are squished, his lips pushed into a pout by Adam’s fingers. Adam likes the way his hand looks on Brad’s face. He’s so much bigger than Brad; it’s a rush, being able to manhandle him like this. He drags his hand down and circles Brad’s throat.
“You haven’t seen violent yet.”
Brad’s breath goes high and reedy as Adam tightens his hand without thinking. Brad licks his lips, grunts a little as he shifts his weight, trying to balance. “Gonna show me?” he asks.
Adam almost backhands him right there, but someone comes out of the men’s bathroom, zipping his fly, and Adam’s suddenly very aware that they’re not alone. He eases up on Brad’s throat, ignoring Brad’s look of confusion.
“Not here,” Adam tells him quietly.
Brad’s face falls. He paws at Adam’s chest. “Come on,” he whispers. “Please?”
Adam drops his hand. His impulse is to slap Brad across the face, mark up those pretty, pale cheeks with his handprint, but he can’t. Not at this club. He shakes his head.
“Then, what?” Brad asks, frustration radiating through every line of his body.
Adam reaches between their bodies, between Brad’s legs, and squeezes Brad’s cock through his shorts. It’s ridiculously easy to get a grip on him; the stupid shorts are made of lycra or spandex or something, which shows off Brad’s ass beautifully, but also has absolutely no resistance to moisture. Adam can feel the dampness of precome leaking through against his palm.
“Oh, yeah, fuck,” Brad groans, rocking up into Adam’s hand.
“You wanna get off, you do it here,” Adam says under his breath. “Just like this. Can you do it?”
“Fuck you, I can do it.”
“How ‘bout if I let go?”
Adam moves his hand, braces himself against the wall with an arm on either side of Brad’s head, locking him in. Brad changes his stance, maneuvers one leg to the outside of Adam’s, and Adam presses closer, lifting his knee to touch the wall between Brad’s legs. Brad wraps his arms around Adam’s neck, lifting himself up on his toes, and settles himself down on Adam’s thigh, rolling his hips like a fucking stripper.
Adam can feel the hard line of Brad’s cock through his jeans, and when he looks down between them, he can fucking see it too, the clear outline of his cock in those stupid, sexy shorts and the spot at the head where Brad’s precome has soaked through. He slides one hand down to the small of Brad’s back, pulls him closer. Brad arches against him, grinding down hard on Adam’s thigh, so firmly it must be painful. Adam shoves his tongue between Brad’s parted lips and kisses the grimace off his face.
Brad starts making needy, desperate noises in the back of his throat, just out of Adam’s reach though he tries to chase them. He shifts his thigh a bit, gets Brad into a better position, so Adam can rub off against Brad’s hip as well. He’s hard, and it feels good to get some friction on his cock, even through a layer of denim, but he won’t come this way. Brad will. Adam will keep this up until he does.
“You’re a fuckin’ mess,” he says, low and smooth. “Such a slut, rubbing yourself off on whatever you can reach in the middle of a hallway.”
“You’re just lucky you’re in reach,” Brad replies, his voice thick with need. His fingers go tight at the back of Adam’s neck. Adam wants to slap him again, or at least get his hand back around Brad’s throat, cut off his air, shut up him.
“I should fucking beat your ass for that,” he mutters.
“Oh, come on, you left it wide open.”
Adam digs his nails into Brad’s back; his point is dulled a bit by Brad’s shirt, but Brad gasps, so Adam guesses he got the gist. He leans down and bites Brad’s lower lip, hard enough to bloody it. Brad moans loudly and clutches at him, close now.
“You’re gonna go back out there,” Adam tells him, “and you’re gonna dance again, and everyone’s gonna see that big fucking stain on your pants, and they’re gonna know exactly what you’ve been doing.”
“God, Adam,” Brad gasps. “Please.”
“And you’re gonna show off, Brad. Show them how slutty you are, how you couldn’t even wait long enough to make it into the bathroom, how you just begged for it right here, in front of anyone who wants to see.”
Adam’s cock is leaking inside his jeans. He’s not thinking before he speaks; the words are just flowing out of him, and even hotter than the scenario he’s describing is Brad’s reaction to it, the way his face flushes hot and his eyebrows knit together like he’s in pain. Adam crushes Brad to him, forcing his shoulders back against the wall and his hips forward, so he’s shoved up against Adam’s dick. Brad comes with a short, sharp cry and rolls his head to the side, exposing his neck for Adam to bite.
“Go back out there and show them,” Adam commands. “Show off your marks, show off your come. Show ‘em all that you’re owned, and they’ll never have you like this. I’m never letting them touch you. Because you’re mine, Brad, and you’re always gonna be mine.”
“Just me an’ you,” Brad slurs. “Always.”
Adam presses a kiss to Brad’s forehead. “Always.”
fin.