Saint Joe on the School Bus

Adam Lambert/Tommy Joe Ratliff. NC-17. ~26,000 words. AU. Underage. Drugs. Alcohol. Prostitution. Sweet, glorious cliches.
Tired of being told what to do, by his parents and the nuns at school, Tommy takes to turning tricks for kicks. But when a kid named Adam, his age, hot, and so fucking sweet it hurts, finds him on his corner, Tommy finds out there’s more fun to rebelling than just in pissing people off.

“Chill,” Tommy says, propping an elbow on the pockmarked brick wall he’s got the guy shoved against. “I got you, man. Adam, right?”

After darting a quick glance to the mouth of the alley, the guy nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m. Kinda nervous?”

Tommy grins. Adam is totally not one of his usual tricks. Either close to Tommy’s age or really fucking baby-faced, and also really fucking hot with his hair dyed black and spiked, feathery chunks slanting across his forehead. He’s got these big blue eyes, all stormy-grey and turned on, lined in black. But it’s the freckles that are killing Tommy. They’re speckled all over Adam’s face, even his lips, like tiny chocolate kisses.

Then there’s the whole obviously a virgin thing. Most of the action Tommy gets down here is from guys with rings on their fingers and skeletons in their closets, and stupid shitty ideas about the kind of crap a twink in a bit of pink lipgloss is willing to get up to for a measly twenty bucks.

Tommy drags a few fingers along Adam’s belt from hip to fly, doing him the favour of letting him know where he’s headed before he palms the thick heat pushing at Adam’s zip. Adam jerks like somebody’s taken a cattle prod to him, head thumping back against brick. The hand Adam tentatively laid on Tommy’s side a couple minutes ago, when Tommy first pushed in close, fists tight in Tommy’s shirt.

“You okay up there?” Tommy asks, unzipping Adam’s jeans nice and slow like they’ve got all night back here in the shadow of a rusted fire escape. He’s usually pretty picky about who he hooks up with–it’s not like he needs the fucking money or anything–and oh man, is he glad Adam bumped into him instead one of the other guys working the boulevard. He’s gonna give Adam such a fucking ride.

“I’m okay.” Staring down where Tommy’s waiting to get a hand inside his pants, he swallows hard. “Wow. Oh, wow.”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, and slides on in, wriggling his fingers through the slit of Adam’s shorts to haul his cock out. He’s hard as a fucking rock already, all shiny wet at the head, and Tommy leans a little to the side, letting the yellowish light slinking in from the street hit Adam’s cock square on. He holds it in his palm for a second, letting Adam get a good look, then wraps his fingers tight, jacks it nice and slow and hard.

With a rough, broken sound, Adam shudders, curling forward against Tommy’s shoulder. His hand skids down, hooking in Tommy’s belt, totally him desperate for a handhold and not some move like he’s trying to be slick. “Oh my god,” he moans, a hot rush of breath on Tommy’s throat.

“Not even at the good part yet,” Tommy says, shoving his fingers back into Adam’s fly, wondering if he can get his balls out too, suck on those a little for him. “You still want me to blow you, right?” Tommy really fucking seriously hopes so. There’s no way Adam’s gonna try to fuck his face before he’s ready for it. Easiest twenty Tommy’ll make all week.

“Yeah, yes, please.” Adam struggles up, gaze caught for the millionth time on Tommy’s mouth. No biggie there, tricks are always staring at it. Tommy puckers up in a mock kiss, exaggerated and kinda ridiculous, maybe like he’s trying to make Adam laugh, help him relax a little. Instead, Adam sucks in a sharp breath and says, words tripping all over the place, “Can I? I want to, I’ve got extra if you want it.”

Pausing with his thumb pressed tight to Adam’s slit, another one of those groans breaking through Adam’s ramble, Tommy cocks an eyebrow. “You wanna kiss me?”

Adam nods quickly. “I haven’t really done it before. A boy, I mean. I really want to.”

“Oh man. You’re like, so fucking–” Tommy doesn’t even fucking know. He shoves back in close, Adam’s cock still in his hand, some of the mess leaking from it probably getting on his shirt. “C’mon. If y’want it so bad.”

Like Adam’s watched one too many chick flicks, he touches Tommy’s face first, all gentle and tentative, gaze flickering between Tommy’s eyes and his mouth. Tommy quirks a smile, shuffles around a bit so he’s straddling one of Adam’s thighs, and oh yeah, Adam likes that, moaning nice and loud at the feel of somebody else’s hard dick. A slow grind gets his fingers tightening on Tommy’s jaw, another split-second of hesitation before his mouth comes crashing down on Tommy’s, tongue shoving right on in.

Tommy’s willing to put down the sweaty, crumpled twenty Adam stuffed into his palm ten minutes ago on this being the first time Adam’s kissed anybody, period. It’s rough and clumsy and honest, way more real than anything Tommy’s ever got from his other back-alley fucks. Tommy pushes into it and starts jacking Adam again to get him to stop overthinking what he’s doing, giving up a quiet sound when Adam goes with it, follows his lead to make it wetter, sweet and dirty, as he sucks Adam’s tongue.

“S’what I’m gonna do to your dick,” Tommy promises, licking at a freckle near the corner of Adam’s mouth.

“Fuck,” Adam gasps, groping for Tommy’s wrist. “Don’t–”

Tommy’s eyes go wide, drop down to where Adam’s coming all over his hand, dripping along his fingers and staining the open fly of his jeans. “Holy shit,” Tommy breathes, and keeps jerking him ’cause it’s too late anyway, and it’s fucking hot, Adam shaking and moaning and a deep red flush sweeping over his face, bright even in the shadows. Long before Adam’s got his breath back, Tommy goes down to his knees on the dirty asphalt, grabbing Adam by the belt to yank him further into the light.

“Sorry,” Adam gasps, “fuck, I’m sorry, I.” His throat clicks when he swallows.

“Dude, don’t need to apologise to me.” Tommy loosens his grip on Adam’s cock, still thick and glistening all over now. “You gonna be able to go again?”

Air whistles in through Adam’s teeth. “I don’t,” he starts, pawing blindly at his back pocket, hauling out a couple more crumpled bills. “How much?”

For the first time in his whole life, Tommy shoves the money away. “Fuck it. First one was a freebie.”

“Oh my god,” Adam says, legs buckling. His back skids down the wall, rough drag of his jacket on brick, his knees up and splayed wide around Tommy. Chest heaving, he tips his head back, stares at the rusted underside of the fire escape. “I can’t even believe I’m here right now,” he says through a stilted laugh.

Wiping his hand off on his jeans, Tommy crawls in closer to work Adam’s belt open. He so needs more space to work here. “You totally haven’t done any of this shit before, have you?”

Adam laughs again quietly, somehow managing to pull off shy with his dick hanging out of his pants. “That obvious, huh?”

“How old are you, anyway?”

Flicking another glance to the street, Adam says, “Nineteen.”

“Yeah,” Tommy drawls, not buying it for a second. “Me too.”

“Don’t,” Adam starts, but Tommy cuts in with a laugh that’s mostly a snort, and plants a smacking kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t worry, babyboy,” Tommy says, shoving Adam’s knees down to stuff a hand in his pants, lift out his junk. Adam stares at him, open-mouthed, like he’s somehow not expecting Tommy to go for it like that. “I’m not gonna tell anyone. Especially if it means I don’t have to slap a rubber on you.”

Tightly, eager to please, Adam says, “You don’t have to. But I, uh. Brought one.”

“‘Course you did.” The guy’s dying to get his dick sucked so bad he comes all the way down here, finds a pretty boy done up in lipgloss and leather, and he’s such a fucking boyscout he brings along a condom. It’s fucking adorable. Tommy kind of wants to kiss him again. “You want me to swallow or spit?”

Adam groans, his cock jerking against Tommy’s wrist. “Whatever you want?”

Buying some time, Tommy chews on the inside of his bottom lip. He talks a good game. Probably why he’s made as much cash as he has, and how he’s managed to get more than one invite to a party in the Hills. But he’s not a total idiot. Anybody that’s asked him for a bare blow either suits up or gets lost. But Adam’s not a nine-to-fiver sneaking out behind his wife’s back, or some bigwig CEO with a thing for a nice piece of jailbait ass.

“Maybe, since you already got me in a mess, I’ll let you like, come on my face or something,” Tommy says, watching for the shock in Adam’s eyes, the way they go dark right after, really turned on and surprised about it. “Yeah. Total money shot, right? You ready yet?”

With another quick nod, Adam says, “So ready, god, I can’t,” and he breaks off with a shaking moan, hips rocking up as Tommy fists his dick again, tugs at his balls a little.

Tommy shuffles back on his knees, propping a hand on Adam’s hip for balance as he leans down, gets in there with a teasing flick of his tongue, not long enough to really taste anything. “Tell me when you’re gonna shoot, ‘kay?”

Biting down hard on both lips, brows drawn tightly together, Adam nods again.

“You’re gonna fucking love this so much.” The first time Tommy went down on a guy, he’d been eager, excited, but most of that had been for the rules it broke. He’d been so fucking pissed off at everyone and everything, he barely remembers how the guy’s dick felt in his mouth. He’s had more than a couple stuffed down his throat since then, and he still gets a kick out of it or he wouldn’t be out here, but it’s been awhile since he’s had this electric thrill in his gut. Maybe it’s doing it bare. Maybe he’s all twisted up inside because in a few seconds, he’s gonna know what Adam tastes like.

“Please,” Adam rasps, his hand in Tommy’s hair, grip loose like he’s thinking about snatching it back. “Please, before I, I don’t want to, not again.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute, huh,” Tommy says, unable to help being a total shit, only rubbing his lips against the head of Adam’s cock. And okay, maybe he’s kinda nervous about this too. He sneaks a quick taste, rolling it around on the tip of his tongue, trying to figure out if he’s really into this whole come-sucking thing.

Adam spits, “Fuck,” sharp and sudden, wide-eyed with lips bitten red and wet, and oh fuck yeah, Tommy goes on down, fills his mouth right up. He doesn’t taste much of all at first, which is already way better than rubbery condom, because he can really feel the texture of Adam’s dick on his tongue, smooth and blood-hot, and he maybe moans a little, ’cause yeah, okay, he likes it. He likes it even more when he sucks harder, gets a preview of what it’ll be like if Adam comes in his mouth from the mess already smeared all over Adam’s dick. Kinda salty, kinda thick, heavy, and really fucking amazing.

He’s so caught up in figuring shit out, he’s not expecting the sudden surge of Adam’s hips, Adam’s dick sliding all the way back in deep, bumping the back of his throat. He chokes, fighting the urge to cough, and ends up having to haul off anyway, shaking his head as Adam babbles apologies.

“Whatever,” he says, coughing again to make sure his throat’s clear. “I can take it if you wanna go deep. I was just like, enjoying myself there.”

Adam’s mouth works silently, then he blurts, “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Tommy’s almost as surprised as Adam is, but he’s way better at hiding it. It’s the kind of thing he’s said before, moaning for it like a slut for the nameless dudes fucking his face, absolute total bullshit that every single fucking time gets him a few extra bills once they’re all zipped up. They’re all so fucking easy.

Adam’s easy, too. But a better kind of easy. The kind where Tommy actually wants to make this really good for Adam, not for the money.

“You want to?” Tommy asks, tugging lazily on Adam’s dick, wanting to see his face go slack again, eyes heavy. “I’ll let you come down my throat if you want.”

“I– I don’t think–”

“You totally want to,” Tommy cuts in, eager to give Adam the chance. “C’mon, fuck, stand up. Fuck my mouth for me.”

Even while he’s scrabbling to his feet, Adam’s saying shit that sorta sounds like he’s trying to back out. If Tommy thought he actually didn’t want to do it, he’d let the poor guy off the hook. But Adam’s cock is hard like he didn’t blow it five minutes ago, slippery wet with more than Tommy’s spit, and when Tommy shuffles in close, nuzzles at Adam’s balls, Adam’s cock jerks so hard it slaps him lightly in the face. Not even sure what the hell to do with that, Tommy says, “Yeah, c’mon,” catching Adam’s dick in one hand, “all the way in, just give it to me,” and guides it back to settle against his lips.

Wobbly on his feet, Adam leans more heavily against the wall. “Okay,” he says, reaching for his cock like he means to hold on where Tommy’s got a nice grip he’s not giving up, then sliding his hand back into Tommy’s hair once he catches on, barely gripping hard enough for Tommy to notice. “Okay,” he says again, working himself up to it as he licks his lips wet, scrubs them dry on the back of his wrist again.

Tommy goes ahead and says, “Please,” kinda pretending that it’s just to get Adam to move.

“God,” Adam groans, and pushes forward, cock sliding slowly through Tommy’s grip into his mouth again, all the way until Tommy’s fist bumps against his lips. Tommy drags a slow breath in through his nose and lets his hand fall away, gripping Adam’s open fly instead, as Adam keeps going, steady firm push against the back of his throat. Swallowing a couple times, heartbeat pounding in his head, Tommy manages to get his throat to open up enough for Adam to slide in that little bit more, wedge it wide.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god,” comes tumbling out of Adam, sweetly reverent and really fucking not with his dick lodged in Tommy’s throat. It’s so fucking hard to breathe, and Tommy can feel the shakes coming on, heat breaking out over the back of his neck and dripping down his spine as Adam tries to fuck in further. Tears start burning in Tommy’s eyes, matching the burn centred around desperate fluttering clutch as he tries to swallow or cough or something, and then Adam’s gasping something that sounds like, “I’m gonna,” and there’s come shooting straight down his throat, really fucking messed the fuck up.

Shoving Adam back with an arm across his hips, Tommy gulps down air, sputtering as he gets some come in there too. Eyes squeezed shut, he gropes blindly for Adam’s dick, manages to take a shot across the face, get some spilling into his mouth so he can taste more of it.

“Oh fuck,” Adam says, grabbing at Tommy for real this time, dropping down and crowding close to kiss him again, all the way in there licking at his tongue and his teeth and his fucking face, sucking his own come off Tommy’s lips, and Tommy blurts, “Holy shit, wow,” in the middle of it, kinda late getting with it to kiss Adam back.

And once Adam’s started, he doesn’t seem to want to stop. Tommy’s pretty sure there’s nothing left to lick up, but Adam won’t quit, holding him still to keep on kissing like one of them is going to die if he even thinks about stopping. Tommy’s not actually fucking complaining. It’d be nice if he could get more than a scrap of air into his seared lungs, and that nail or whatever he’s kneeling on isn’t doing his kneecap any favours, but he couldn’t honestly care less. New to it or not, Adam is really into the whole kissing thing, and getting better at it in whole leaps and bounds like he’s determined to win a fucking award. Even when Tommy starts groping through his pockets, he doesn’t stop. Probably doesn’t even fucking notice.

“Hang on,” Tommy says, fishing out Adam’s phone. “Just like, a second.”

“What?” Adam asks, looking adorably confused when he spies his phone in Tommy’s hand, and so fucking totally hot, too.

“If you want to like, hook up again.” Quickly punching in his number and saving it, Tommy hands the phone back. “Y’know, whenever.”

“I didn’t,” Adam says, staring down at his phone like he’s never seen it before in his life. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

“Tommy.” Since Adam’s totally dumbstruck–which Tommy really fucking likes, he is just that good at this shit–Tommy gives his cock a friendly little stroke and tucks it away, carefully zips him up. “You good?”

Dazed, Adam gives a vague nod. “Yeah. I, um.”

“C’mon,” Tommy says, hooking a hand under Adam’s armpit to help haul him back to his feet. Standing, Adam’s got more than a couple inches on him, and while Tommy doesn’t normally give a shit one way or the other, he likes it this time around. When the urge hits, he snuggles in, earning a surprised noise from Adam and a quick squeeze before he swings around, starts leading Adam out of the alley. “I’ll be a good date and walk you to a cab.”

A bright flush steals across Adam’s nose. “Metro,” he mumbles.

Out in the brighter light, Tommy steps back, sizes up the mess Adam’s in. He totally looks like he just got laid. Nobody’ll blink twice at that, but they might at the mess on the crotch of his jeans. Tommy doesn’t give a fuck when it’s him, always daring somebody to say something to him with an eyebrow cocked and a smarmy smile, but Adam looks like he’s about to combust just thinking about riding the Metro home. “Here,” Tommy says, tugging Adam’s tee all the way out of his belt, down over his jeans. “Stealthy as shit.”

Through a hint of a smile, Adam says, “Or something like that.”

Tommy waves a hand. “Whatever, man.”

“So, um.” Scratching at the back of his neck, Adam shifts from one foot to the other, back again. “Thanks. For, y’know. And not laughing in my face, that too.”

“Dude, I wasn’t kidding when I said you’re really fucking cute. And like fuck everything else, you were a good time, okay?” A really fucking amazing time. Tommy can already see the apoplexy Father Matheson is going to have if he ever trots this one out in the confessional.

“Yeah?” A wide, ridiculously hopeful smile steals across Adam’s face. “So, when you said, if I maybe wanted to again?”

“Totally serious.” When Adam makes no move to leave, still smiling brilliantly, maybe a little dopily, Tommy leans up on his toes to give his mouth a lick. “Now, like, get the fuck outta here before your mom figures out you’re not in your room doing your homework.”

“Oh shit.” Adam flicks a quick glance at his phone and jams it into his pocket. “I’m gonna be so fucking late.”

“Run,” Tommy says, laughing as Adam backs up a step, refusing to look away, then another, and another, almost tripping over a crack in the sidewalk. “Run, motherfucker, run!”

“Oh my god, shut up!” Adam calls, finally turning around to make a break for it.

The second he’s out of sight, Tommy whips out his phone and punches in the number he swiped. He’s got a half hour until curfew, so he turns around to head uptown, maybe grab a couple beers. After Adam, he’s not in the mood for another hookup, and no fucking way is he heading home without a good layer of booze between him and the hell he’s gonna catch for skipping out on classes again.

*

Bible Study fucking sucks. Tommy’s in the middle of one of his golden streaks, though, and hasn’t had to sit through a class in almost a week. Hiding out in the chapel is fucking genius. None of the Sisters would think to look for him here. Hell, if one of them ever did, all he’d have to do is say some shit about needing to pray for guidance, and they’d probably back the fuck off.

He’s down on his knees in a pew, alright, head bowed, grinning as he sends, U horny yet? off to Adam.

Either Adam’s fucking off class like he is, or he’s on his lunch period–Tommy really doesn’t believe for a minute Adam’s out of high school yet–because a text comes back about thirty seconds later. U scared the crap out of me. Hi.

Tommy bites at his lip. He’d been hoping for a way better opening. What school u go 2?

The response takes longer this time. Tommy fidgets, glancing around the musty old church to see if anybody’s caught on to him yet. Like always, his gaze slides to the big crucifix hung behind the altar. Jesus gives him a dirty look. Tommy can’t blame the guy. He’d be giving people dirty fucking looks too if they kept stringing him up half-naked. When his phone beeps softly, he gives Jesus a wink before flipping it open to read.

Do i get 2 ask y?

Thinking abt gate crashing n blowing u in bthrm

It takes a whole three minutes for Adam to reply. I don’t even fucking know what to say now

Sliding back into the pew, Tommy hunches down with his elbows on his knees. Say you’re gonna skip out, buy me lunch

I’m at Independence. Meet where?

“Atta boy,” Tommy says, scooting out of the pew, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as he ducks out into the courtyard, hightails it around the back to slip out through the gate near the gardener’s shed. Another text comes through from Adam while he’s busy checking out Google, finding a couple likely places only a few blocks from Adam’s school.

Hope I’ve got enough cash on me.

Dude, Tommy texts back, i’m a cheap date remember? Taco bell okay? Can b there in 1 hr

Got a free period then. C u soon.

Once Tommy’s safely off the grounds, stuck waiting at a bus stop, the nervous, giddy churning starts up in his gut like right before he hits the streets at night. He’s not out there all that often, only turning tricks when he’s seriously bored, or when one of the holier-than-thou bitches at school piss him off, and once he hits the walk, he usually mellows out pretty fast. The fluttering in his belly doesn’t quit this time. It keeps up all through the bus ride, his leg jiggling as he thumbs open his phone, thinks about calling Adam up. He brings up Adam’s number twice before he finally hits it, bounding down off the bus two steps at a time.

Tommy counts off the rings, all the way to eight, before Adam picks up, hurriedly whispers, “You’re here already?”

“Nah, blocks away. Figured I’d walk.” There’s a flurry of voices on the other end of the line, then silence as a door bangs shut. “You hiding out in the bathroom?”

“Music room,” Adam says, followed by a dull thud. His backpack hitting the floor, maybe. “I can’t believe you texted me that.”

“Seriously? Man, I sucked you off in an alleyway. Like, twice.”

“And then you go and say stuff like that.”

“You like dirty talk? I got more.”

Adam groans miserably, eagerness leaking out all around the edges. His voice drops low. “I don’t need you giving me a boner at school.”

“Bet you already got one. Bet you’ve had one all fucking morning thinking about last night. My jaw kinda still hurts, y’know. That fucking big dick you got.” Waiting for a light to go red and the crosswalk flicks on, Tommy smiles widely at the guy in a suit giving him the stink-eye and cranks up the volume. “Looks good, tastes great.”

“Oh my god,” Adam moans, “I’m going to hang up on you.”

“Are not. You’re dying to know what’s gonna come out of my filthy mouth next.”

“Maybe,” Adam grumbles.

“You sure you don’t wanna find an empty classroom? Think I’m almost there.” There’s a sharp intake of air, a rustle of cotton. For a minute, Tommy wonders if maybe Adam is hard, or getting there. Tommy’s been half-hard since he skipped out on morning prayers, and dealing with a stiffy slowing him down since he left the chapel. “Man, is that you palming your cock for me already? Getting it all nice and thick?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve gotten absolutely zero action in my entire fucking life,” Adam says, sounding kinda ticked about it, or maybe that’s turned on, “or at least action that I’ve been actually interested in, and you’re on your way over here to do I don’t even know what, god, yes, I’m hard. And I don’t know how I’m gonna get out of here without anybody noticing.”

“Fuck ‘em.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Adam repeats doubtfully.

“Yeah. Anybody who stares just wants to get all up on it, anyway. Unless you’re thinking about giving ‘em a ride, forget ‘em. Taco Bell, straight ahead, man.”

“Shit.” Another couple of those dull thuds–Adam thumping down the stairs, Tommy’s guessing, now that he knows where Adam’s been hanging out–and then a couple doors banging open and shut again. “I’m gonna get caught. I’m gonna get in so much shit.”

“Gonna make it so worth your while if you don’t, babyboy.”

Adam snorts, “Babyboy,” like he thinks it’s hilarious, and kinda like he likes it, but the quick shuffle of his sneakers on linoleum slows. His breathing doesn’t. “This is so crazy.”

“Just follow your dick straight to me,” Tommy says, grinning wide enough some lady passing by gives him a long, slow look, probably wondering what the fuck he’s jacked up on. “I’m outside waiting.”

“School’s only half a block away. I don’t– Holy shit.”

Shoving his sunglasses up into his hair, Tommy squints up the street. “What? Aw, shit, don’t fucking tell me you got caught.”

“No,” Adam says, strangled. “I’m out. You, are you wearing a fucking uniform?”

Turning on his heel, Tommy tries to pick out Adam from the foot traffic. The guy’s as tall as a fucking giraffe, he should be easy to spot. “Yeah. Where the fuck are you?”

“I’m losing my mind,” Adam says, a double echo, one tinny through the phone and the other loud and bright and clear about a dozen feet away. “Cut through the parking lots, it’s faster. Holy shit, Tommy. You’re in a tie.”

“I know,” Tommy groans, snapping his pointless phone shut. He should’ve taken the time to change, but he’d forgotten all about the stupid button-down and stuffy grey slacks. “It really fucking sucks.”

“You’re in a tie,” Adam repeats, apparently not quite ready to get over that one yet, “and you’re wearing makeup.” When his gaze lands on the crest stitched into the breast pocket of Tommy’s shirt, his mouth goes slack. “Catholic school, are you fucking serious?”

“It’s not lipgloss,” Tommy says, throwing in a couple air quotes. “It’s lipbalm.”

“It’s pink.”

Letting his smile turn to a saucy slant, Tommy says, “You like it, don’t you. The tie and shit. It’s totally turning your crank.”

Adam’s hand twitches, the other one going white-knuckled around his phone. “And the eyeliner? What excuse squeaks that by the nuns?”

Since Adam’s feet are cemented to the sidewalk, Tommy moves in close, tilts his face up so the bright afternoon sunlight spills down over it, catches glossy on his mouth. “Gonna mess it up? Go on, touch me if you wanna.”

Adam’s lips part on a sharp breath. This time his hand comes all the way up, fingers curled beneath Tommy’s jaw, thumb ghosting close to his lips. They’re in the middle of the street in broad daylight, barely a mile away from Adam’s school, people milling around all over the place. Tommy couldn’t give a shit if he tried. He figured Adam would, though. But either Adam’s got some serious balls still, or he’s totally forgotten where they are. He drugs his thumb across Tommy’s mouth, smearing pink gloss at the corner, and when Tommy dips down, catches Adam’s thumb between his teeth with an impish smile, Adam darts in, tries to kiss him before he even gets his hand out of the way. It’s a complete mess, and Tommy can’t help laughing, totally tripping on the way Adam wants him like Tommy doesn’t whenever somebody else is so eager to get all up in his business.

“Sorry,” Adam says, a blush breaking out beneath his freckles. “I didn’t mean to just, attack you.” He backs up a step, digging into his back pocket.

“Hey, no, it’s cool,” Tommy says, catching his hand. “You can kiss me without the whole cash up front thing.”

“Okay,” Adam says, turning about seven shades redder as Tommy’s fingers lace with his.

Tommy tightens his grip so Adam can’t pull away like he looks like he’s seriously considering, and heads for the door. “C’mon. I’m fucking starving.”

Inside is air conditioned all to hell, goosebumps prickling along Tommy’s arms the second they cross the threshold. When Tommy veers away from the counter to the washrooms off to the side, Adam stumbles. Tommy holds on tighter, flinging a grin back over his shoulder.

“No way,” Adam says, eyes big and round as dinner plates as Tommy bumps open the door with a quick twist of the handle and one hip. “No fucking way.”

“Yeah fucking way.” Spinning around on his heel, Tommy puts his back to the door, groping along for the lock to give it a flick. There’s one stall straight ahead, a urinal to the left, and the sink to the right. One of the twisty energy-saving bulbs above it is blown, kinda like Adam’s mind is about to be. “Wanna try that thing like last night again? Except this time, I actually get to suck you before you jizz all over me. Cool?”

“Tommy,” Adam says, staring as Tommy skids down the door, balanced on the balls of his feet with his stuffy dress shirt rucked up in the back. “You can’t, in a fucking bathroom at Taco Bell.”

“Sure I can. You’re totally gonna.” Getting into Adam’s jeans, Tommy yanks them down this time, grinning as Adam jolts forward onto his toes. “Nice and slow this time,” he promises, taking it easier with Adam’s shorts, dragging them all the way to Adam’s knees so he can see the whole package, cock thick as he’d figured, balls heavy. He gives the head a playful kiss, licking at the string of precome that clings as he draws back. Tilting his chin up, he gives Adam one of those looks chicks are always trotting out, bedroom eyes and a lazy, languid smile. “Whenever you wanna stick it in.”

“You’re crazy,” Adam says, but he takes hold of his cock, takes one of those deep, bracing breaths, and touches Tommy’s face again, thumbing at Tommy’s lips before his own thin down, decision made. When the sticky head bumps against Tommy’s mouth, he opens up, slides his tongue out as Adam’s cock slides on in. Adam groans something that might’ve started out as a word once upon a time when Tommy pushes forward, takes a good half of his dick and then pulls back, cheeks hollowed as he sucks. “Fuck. Fuck.”

Tommy flicks him a quick glance, the smile he can’t manage with his mouth busy clear in his eyes, and gets both hands on Adam’s ass, dragging him in to do it all over again, and again, until Adam’s moving along, slow, sweet fucks. It’s good, really fucking good, like, the kind of good that gets Tommy’s cock jerking, and he drops a hand down, gives it a squeeze through his pants.

“Shit,” Adam hisses, shoving in hard, quickly pulling back all the way so Tommy has to chase after him to keep his mouth full. But Adam slaps a shaking hand to his shoulder, holding him off. “Just, god, I need a second. I almost, when you, fuck, Tommy, you’re hard.”

“‘Course I fucking am,” Tommy says, licking the taste of Adam off his lips. It’s not as strong as it was last night, too clean this time around, and Tommy tries to shrug Adam’s hand off, get back in there. “C’mon, I wanna make you come.”

Adam bites on the corner of his lip, a pretty fucking stellar distraction for when he asks, “Let me see you first?”

Tommy’s heart gives a hard kick as a fresh rush of blood pours down south. He drops onto his knees, hauling the tails of his shirt free, shoving them back out of the way as he undoes his pants, peels the fly open. There’s wet already soaked into his boxers, staining the material an even darker black. “You just wanna look at it, or watch me play with it?”

A weird noise echoes high in Adam’s throat. “Just take it out for me, please.”

Eyes on Adam’s the whole time, Tommy dips a hand in, can’t help giving himself a slow stroke before he cups his junk, lifts it out over the waistband. He leans back against the door again, knees spread wide, wide open, and lets Adam look, watching Adam’s gaze follow his fingertips trailing down one side and up the other. “Sure you don’t wanna watch?” he asks, curling his hand loosely around the head, sliding down slowly so his foreskin drags back, bares the shiny wet head.

“You’re not,” Adam says, barely more than a croak, “it’s not the same.”

“Nope.” Keeping his fist loose, Tommy jacks it a couple times, seriously getting off on how intently Adam’s watching him, like Adam’s trying to memorise everything for later, something brand new to whack off to when Tommy’s not around to suck it for him. “I’m a dirty little heathen with an uncut dick.”

Adam licks his lips, gaze jumping up to Tommy’s face and back down again. It takes him a second, but he finally works up the guts to ask, “Can I touch you?”

“Hell yeah you can.” Scrambling up to his feet, Tommy yanks his shirt higher, pins it under his arms so it isn’t blocking his view. “Any way you want.”

As if he needs the support, Adam props a hand on the door, gnawing on the corner of his lip again as he knuckles brush Tommy’s bare belly. Instead of going straight for Tommy’s dick, though, he skips on down to his nuts, cupping them in one hand, rubbing lightly with his thumb. A shiver crawls all the way up through Tommy’s insides and spills out in a moan not even one bit fake.

“And you shave, too,” Adam says, thick and wondering.

Tommy grins. “Makes my dick look bigger. Y’know, my dick, that thing you said you were gonna get a hand on for me?”

Adam gives him a look sort of like Adam wants him to shut up. If Adam wants quiet, all he’s gotta do is say. Tommy’s not making any promises, though, not even if it’s Adam’s dollar he’s technically on.

“Both hands,” Tommy suggests. “So you can like, really get a feel for it, right?”

“You’re fucking terrible,” Adam says, but he listens like a good boy–the kind of good boy that goes out looking to pay another boy for a blowjob on a school night–and gets both hands in there, one gripping Tommy’s cock lightly to hold it steady, the other hesitating near the head, obviously trembling with how badly he wants to touch, and how nervous he is about it. Adam jumps like a startled rabbit when Tommy grabs onto his shoulder, fucks into his fist, hoping it’ll take the edge off of having Adam’s hands on him but only making it worse.

“C’mon, fuck,” Tommy groans, “you’re killing me here. Fucking play with it if you wanna.”

Tentatively, Adam closes his other hand around Tommy’s cock, barely holding on with enough pressure to get his foreskin sliding along as he jacks it. Pure pleasure rips up Tommy’s spine regardless, and he grates out, “Harder, do it harder, you’re not gonna fucking hurt it,” his fingernails denting tiny red-white crescents into Adam’s arm as Adam takes him at his word, starts going at him hard enough to start jerking him off with his foreskin, precome slip-sliding all over the place, slicking Adam’s knuckles.

“Oh my god,” Adam says, and starts to ask, “Can I,” again, cutting himself off halfway there and just going for it instead, rubbing his thumb all around the naked head of Tommy’s dick, pushing beneath thin, delicate skin, turning the muscles and bones in Tommy’s legs to water.

“You’re gonna get me off, right?” Tommy says, clutching at the front of Adam’s shirt, almost all his weight resting on the door. “You’re not gonna leave me hanging? I promise I’ll blow you right after, I’ll make it really, really good, really fucking amazing.”

“This’ll do it?” Adam asks, changing the angle a little, making it a different kind of just as good. “Do you want me to, I don’t even know, Tommy, tell me what you want me to do.”

Looking for something else to hold onto, Tommy’s hand finds the door handle. He grabs on as hard as he can, the sharp bite of metal into his palm not doing a damn thing to bank the frantic heat coiling up in his belly. “Don’t fucking stop. Kiss me again?”

The words aren’t even out of Tommy’s mouth before Adam’s tongue is pushing in, confident and coaxing like he wasn’t last night, like somehow between there and here he’s totally mastered the art of taking Tommy apart with his fucking mouth. Or maybe Tommy is just that fucking out of it, too caught up in Adam’s hands on him to give as good as he’s getting. And, if he’s gonna be fucking honest here, not many tricks are all that interested in if he has a good time or not. Which is whatever, he knows what he’s into with this sex for money thing, but holy fuck, he likes Adam’s hands.

“Gonna,” he says, close to a whine, “shit, I’m,” and he gets his hand in there just in time, cupped over the head of his cock to catch the mess of spunk before it’s all over them both. He sags forward against Adam’s bulk, trying to muffle the noises he knows he’s making but can’t hear over the rushing in his head.

“Tommy,” Adam’s saying, trying to shoulder him up while he’s still shaking, “Tommy, please, I want to kiss you again, come on.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Tommy says, sinking down through Adam’s grip. He grabs onto Adam’s cock with his come-slick hand, rubs it in all the way down to Adam’s balls and follows with his mouth, sucking Adam clean again. He’s not as interested in the taste of his own jizz as he is in Adam’s, but he’s had a lot of tricks talk shit like that at him, asking him if he eats it, if he loves it as much as he loves sucking cock, and the racket Adam starts making up there tells him pretty much all he needs to know about Adam’s thoughts on the whole thing. He goes quick and hard and fast, driving Adam straight to the edge to make up for lost time, shoving him right over it and trying to swallow the flood that hits his tongue. It’s too much, though, and Tommy’s really not good at this sort of thing, no practice at all, and he scrambles to get a hand up, catch the watery mess that comes spilling out around Adam’s cock.

Settling back on his haunches, giving his hand a flick to get most of the come off, spattering onto the wall, Tommy tries to get a read on what Adam’s thinking. Normally he’s pretty good at this part, but his skin’s still buzzing from Adam getting him off, and it’s fucking with his head. “Good, right?” he says, scrubbing his mouth clean and licking a streak of come off the back of his hand, wondering if it’s his or Adam’s or theirs. “Totally worth the wait?”

Adam’s answer is a clumsy, lunging kiss, Tommy’s head banging against the door and a laugh exploding into Adam’s mouth, but Adam doesn’t give a single flying fuck. He grabs onto Tommy’s face, kisses like he’s trying to crawl inside Tommy’s skin, and for a minute there, Tommy’s not sure what the hell to do. He gropes for Adam’s dick, wondering if maybe he wants to go again. But Adam whines low in his throat when Tommy gets a hand on him, shuffling back without letting Tommy’s mouth go.

Making out isn’t usually what Tommy’s tricks are paying for, but whatever. If Adam wants to get his money’s worth sucking on Tommy’s tongue, Tommy can work with that. He switches up the angle a bit, getting Adam settled more firmly against him, letting Adam really get in deep. It takes the groan rumbling up the back of Adam’s throat into Tommy’s mouth for Tommy to get what’s going on here, Adam licking the taste of them straight off his tongue. As soon as it hits him, he’s shoving Adam back, ignoring the startled noise Adam makes hitting the floor to crawl right over him, stick a couple fingers into Adam’s mouth to see if he’ll suck the taste off those, too.

Garbled, Adam says something that sounds like, “Holy shit,” and grabs at Tommy’s wrist. His eyes flash wide, too much for him maybe, but then he’s sucking uncertainly. A shallow groan from Tommy is enough to get him licking between Tommy’s fingers, sucking harder. This time around Tommy’s the one going in for a kiss, awkward around his fingers still crammed in Adam’s mouth, fucking incredible and amazing that Adam lets him get away with it, goes so far as to stick his tongue out, let Tommy suck it a little in the hot wet space between them.

Dragging his hand out of the way, Tommy gives Adam’s lips a slow lick. “Gettin’ really fucking good at that.”

“Suddenly I have all this practice,” Adam says, eyes glassy, pupils blown, like he’s high. He cranes his neck up as Tommy leans away. “I don’t think I can get up.”

“Too bad you promised me tacos.” Darting in, Tommy gives him one last sorry excuse for a kiss and clambers up, shuffling over to the sink to rinse his hands before he deals with his pants. When he turns around to stuff a crumpled paper towel into the trash, Adam’s still flat on his back on the floor, dick out, watching Tommy with this dumbstruck look on his face. “You gonna put that thing away, or you down there waiting for me to get all up on it again?”

With a soft grunt, Adam hurries to stuff himself back in his shorts. Tommy’s eyebrows shoot for his hairline. He never figured Adam for the type to get off on walking around with a wet dick, but maybe Adam’s planning on sticking around for awhile, getting in some more action before playing good boy and running off back to school. Not a bad plan at all.

“C’mon,” Tommy says, dragging Adam away from the mirror where he’s fussing at his hair. “The whole ‘just got some’ look totally works for you. I’m fucking hungry, man.”

Stumbling along, tugging frantically at his shit, Adam says, “Tommy, wait–”

“Nope. Tacos now. Jizz later.” Flicking the lock, Tommy drags Adam straight out into the restaurant. A couple startled glances sling their way, Tommy ignoring every last one of them as he marches up to the counter to plunk Adam in front of it. At the curious look from the cute girl behind the counter, he jerks his chin at Adam. “He’s buying.”

“Okay,” the girl says–Karina, by her nametag–and slowly drags her gaze over to Adam. Tommy grins as her eyes dart down, then quickly up again.

“Um,” Adam says, the start of a blush creeping up the back of his neck.

Tommy cuddles in closer to Adam’s side. “Burritos are the shit.”

Red explodes onto Adam’s cheeks. He fumbles for his pockets, hauling out his wallet to thumb quickly through the few bills inside. He stares blankly at the menu.

Snagging the cash, Tommy slaps it down on the counter. “One each of the supreme burritos, except that steak thing. Extra large Pepsi.”

“For here or to go?” Karina calmly asks, probably used to dealing with whackos this close to a public school.

“Here,” Tommy says. “Thanks.”

“Three burritos?” Adam asks, staring down at him.

“Since you’re such a good lay, I’ll even share,” Tommy offers.

Adam aims another one of those weird looks his way. “You’re kind of crazy.”

“You love it.” Tommy gives Adam a small shove with a hand planted centre-square on his chest. “Go get us a corner booth, in case you want dessert.”

Looking dazzled, and about two-point-five seconds from spontaneous combustion, Adam totters off in the vague direction of the booths down back. Grin permanently plastered to his face, Tommy leans on the counter to watch. To Karina setting stuff down on a bright plastic tray, he says, “He’s cute, right?”

She follows Tommy’s gaze. “Oh, um. Yeah.”

“You know him?”

“Not really. You two go to school together?”

“Nah.” Nabbing the Pepsi, Tommy jabs a straw through the little hole at the top. “You’re in college? Like, sophomore maybe?”

Her, “Yeah,” is even slower this time around. Probably thinking Tommy’s hitting on her. Which he’d totally do, if he wasn’t too busy thinking about sucking Adam off again. Sucking off Adam while he still tastes like come.

“He look like a sophomore to you?”

“He does.” She plunks three wraps on the tray and gives it a tiny nudge towards him. “You don’t. Enjoy your meal.”

“Already am.” Gathering up the change to stuff in his pocket with one hand, he scoops up the tray with the other and heads for the back, catching sight of Adam leaning back in one of the booths staring straight at him. “Enjoying the view, babyboy?”

Adam blinks like he’s coming out of a daze. “I can’t believe you’re in a uniform.”

“Me neither, most days.” Tommy slides the tray onto the table and scoots in across from Adam. Fishing through the burritos, he digs out the two chicken ones to start. “Fucking Catholic school, man. You want a bite?”

“Sure?”

Tommy hands one over, sucking down some more drink before asking, “What about you? Not religious or like some shit, are you?” When Adam almost chokes, Tommy slides the Pepsi his way, waiting for him to quit sputtering. “So?”

“I don’t know? Or, uh, my mom’s Jewish, so I guess technically I am too?”

“No way.” Eagerly, Tommy plunks his elbows on the table, leaning in close. “Seriously? That’s fucking awesome.”

In the middle of picking a bit of chicken out of Tommy’s perfectly good burrito, Adam pauses. “It is?”

“Fuck yeah. You know fucking Catholics, man. Only thing worse than a gay is a gay Jew. I hope I made Jesus puke.”

“Um,” Adam says, fumbling around for a minute before he decides he needs another drink.

“Like, don’t think I care,” Tommy says, fidgeting in the seat. The last thing he wants to do is piss Adam off. Everything else aside, even the whole sex thing, Adam really is a good time. Gnawing on the inside of his lip, Tommy quickly shuffles out of the booth, swinging around to plunk his ass right beside Adam, trapping him against the wall in case he’s gonna bolt. “I mean it. Just like, I hate that shit. So what if somebody’s black or white or straight or gay or pisses standing up or sitting down, right? I just kinda like it when stuff goes against all those fucking rules they think are so damn important.”

Slowly, Adam says, “Okay.”

Worried, Tommy elbows Adam in the side. “I’m being fucking serious here.”

“Is that why you, you know,” Adam says, gesturing lamely.

“Fuck guys for money?” Tommy says, reclaiming his Pepsi from Adam’s slack hand. “Totally. Pretty sure it’s the only thing keeping me from punching out somebody’s teeth every time I gotta sit through one of those long-ass, holier-than-thou sermons. What a bunch of bullshit.”

One corner of Adam’s mouth quirks up. “On your knees and rejoice, for blowjobs saved your life.”

Not sure he heard what he thinks he heard, Tommy stares at Adam for a long, long second, Adam still smiling shyly, and then Tommy cracks the fuck up. Just totally loses it. He can’t even fucking breathe and he’s in tears again, clutching at his belly when it starts to ache. At the vague sensation of a hand smoothing down his back, he leans into it, collapsing against Adam’s solid heat with his face buried in Adam’s shoulder while he figures out how the hell to fit some air in his lungs. By the time he’s got a handle on that, Adam’s moved on to rubbing his arm, comfortable and slow.

“That was pure gold,” Tommy says, clearing a wheeze out of his voice.

“Thanks.” Adam gives him a tight squeeze, not making like he wants Tommy off after, so Tommy stays right the hell where he is.

“There might be this thing Friday night.”

“Thing,” Adam echoes cautiously.

“Yeah.” Tommy helps himself to another few bites of lunch, not wanting it to go cold while he’s greedily wrangling up more of Adam’s time. “I’ve shown you some really fucking awesome times so far, right?”

Adam makes a quiet, agreeable noise. His leg jumps when Tommy runs a few fingers up along the inseam of his jeans, breath hissing faster in through his teeth the closer Tommy gets to his junk.

“So I wanna show you an even better one,” Tommy says, settling his palm lightly over Adam’s fly. “If you’re up for it.”

“Up for it is not a problem,” Adam squeaks out.

“I kinda noticed.” Looking up at Adam’s face, Tommy rocks the heel of his hand against Adam’s dick, watches his eyes fly wide then go heavy as he does it again, and once more. “Y’like that?”

Hand flying to Tommy’s wrist, Adam says, “Liking it is also not the problem here.”

Skidding lower in the seat, Tommy hooks his knee over Adam’s, a tight fit with the table so close, but manageable, and tugs at Adam’s zipper. “Is there a problem here?” he asks, one eyebrow crooked.

“Oh god, don’t,” Adam blurts, knuckles going white.

Tommy goes only as far as shoving a few fingers in through Adam’s fly, curving them along thickening heat just out of reach beneath a thin layer of cotton. “Seems a shame not to, with you getting hard for me and all.”

“Somebody’ll see,” Adam hisses, wide-eyed and desperate, staring really, really hard at the bank of sunlit windows up front. “Please don’t make me come in my fucking pants. I don’t have anything to change into, oh fuck, stop moving.”

Tommy takes a sip of watery cola. “Guess I could just hold it for awhile. Feels good.”

“I don’t,” Adam starts, his short, blunt nails starting to dig into the soft underside of Tommy’s wrist. “I’m out of cash.”

Tommy shrugs. “Still got some lunch left. I’m all yours if you want it, babyboy.”

Adam’s gaze hops from the windows to the family close to the entrance to the counter and back again. He licks his lip, rolling it in to catch between his teeth before his gaze drops to Tommy’s hand, swings back up to stare him in the face. “Not here.”

A swooping thrill settles low in Tommy’s gut. “Got somewhere better?”

“No,” Adam groans. “I can’t miss class. My parents’ll never let me out of the house Friday night if I do.”

“Sneak out anyway,” Tommy says, wriggling his fingertips in through the slit of Adam’s shorts. He finds bare skin, a brief touch of hot wet slick near the tip, and then he drags his hand free, rests it palm up on Adam’s thigh so he can watch precome glisten in the light. He rubs his thumb and forefinger together, making sure Adam’s watching too. “I want you to get that on my face again.”

Adam squeezes his eyes shut. “God. Tell me where to meet you Friday?”

“Not sure yet,” Tommy says, laughing to cover up his disappointment. He’d been so ready to go again. He gets it, though, Adam playing it cool, not wanting to piss his folks off like Tommy doesn’t give a shit about. “I’ll text you, okay? Hey. Open your eyes.”

Warily, Adam cracks one eyelid open. Tommy drops his head against Adam’s shoulder, brings his hand up nice and slow in case Adam’s thinking about missing this, and smears his fingertips along his lips, slicking them up with Adam’s precome like it’s that lipgloss Adam had liked so much. His hand smells like Adam’s dick again, hot and thick, making him groan as he breathes in deep. “Gonna kiss my dirty mouth for me before you go?”

“I don’t even know what to do with you,” Adam says, pure honesty as he leans in, hesitates. Tommy can see him thinking about the people around them, wondering if they’re watching, if somehow they know he’s about to kiss the taste of his cock off Tommy’s mouth. And Tommy can see the moment that thought nails Adam where it counts, too, when Adam stops giving a fuck about who’s watching and goes for it, quickly fitting their mouths together, sucking on Tommy’s lip, getting roped by a teasing flick of Tommy’s tongue into chasing after it with his own, sliding in hot and wet and perfect.

Tommy’s hand tightens on Adam’s thigh, close enough to his junk that Adam jumps, knees banging the underside of the table. Spitting a curse, Adam jerks away, his face naked and open, wanting. If Tommy pushed, he could get Adam to do it. Let him jack it right here.

“Alright,” Tommy says instead, scooting out of the booth, giving Adam the cover to quickly yank his zipper up. “Get gone before I like, change my mind.”

“But, Friday?” Adam asks, perched awkwardly halfway out of the seat.

“About getting some right the hell now,” Tommy clarifies. “Fucking kills me to see a good boner go to waste.”

“I, uh, got more where that one came from,” Adam tries, smiling that shy, gorgeous smile again.

“I fucking hope you do.” Resisting the urge to get back to business with Adam’s mouth, Tommy drops into the seat. That doesn’t help much, because now Adam’s dick is right there at eye level, crammed tight in his jeans, and Tommy wants to get all fucking over it. “Have fun getting smart.”

“Have fun with your totally unhealthy lunch,” Adam says, and darts down for a sloppy kiss, more the corner of Tommy’s lips than anything. “‘Bye.”

“‘Bye,” Tommy says lamely, waving when Adam’s already halfway to the door. It’s only Tuesday. He doesn’t have a sweet fucking clue how he’s gonna make it through the week.

*

U got a free period 2day?

Leaning with his back propped against the fence, thankfully in jeans instead of that strangling prep school getup, Tommy waits for Adam to text back. He’s kinda pissed off still beneath the satisfaction of being free to do whatever the fuck he wants.

Already had it. Y, u bored?

Free until his parents find out he got his ass suspended, anyway. His dad’s up north on business, and his mom’s stuck in a conference downtown all today and Friday. She’ll find out by tonight, but until then, he’s his own fucking man. And what the hell is she gonna do then, lock him inside the house while she’s at work? U near a window?

What the hell are u up 2?

Tommy grins, shading his eyes from the glare creeping in over the tops of his sunglasses. Miss ur dick. Come outside

OH MY GOD, comes screaming back at him. Then, Where the hell r u?

Teacher’s lot maybe? This dude’s got a buncha baby toys in the backseat, hope it ain’t ur car

Don’t fucking move.

Tommy grins stupidly at his phone. He likes that. Don’t fucking move, as if anybody could haul him outta here now that he’s pretty sure Adam’s coming to him. Moses could show up with that fucking two-by-four and Tommy wouldn’t split.

A couple minutes later there’s the sound of a heavy door opening. Shoving his phone into his back pocket, Tommy pushes away from the fence, squinting through the glare of sunlight on a forest of metal to find Adam. At the crunch of gravel off to the side, Tommy heads around the back of a big black SUV to find Adam striding through the cars.

“You are so fucking crazy,” Adam says, a strident hush like there’s somebody else around to hear him cussing. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“School’s boring.” When Adam’s eyebrows fly up, Tommy shrugs. “C’mon, it totally is. We could go like, go do something.”

“I’m out here on a hall pass.”

“That works too. You got what, ten, fifteen?” Waiting for Adam’s terse nod, Tommy grabs onto the handle on the SUV’s back door and pops it open. “I can get you off in half that.”

“Holy shit,” Adam says, gaping. “Did you– Fuck, Tommy. Tell me you didn’t break into somebody’s fucking car.”

“Could’ve,” Tommy says, probably a lie. He knows how to get into the older models, late eighties and early nineties, but he’s only managed a few times, and he’s never been able to pull it off without scratching the shit out of the paint job. The whole point of a joyride is to get the car back without somebody noticing, not leaving them a fucking notice. “This one was open. You want some or not?”

Adam struggles to snap his mouth shut. “Aren’t you supposed to hang around looking hot waiting for somebody to pick you up?”

Tommy snorts and flaps a hand. “That’s no way to make a buck. Gotta go after the good clientèle. C’mon, I wanna suck you. Maybe you could come on my dick this time. Yeah, yeah,” he says, watching the light in Adam’s eyes go dark. “Like that, right? You come on my dick for me, make it all slippery for me to jerk off for you.”

Reaching out, Adam catches the door, crowding Tommy in behind it. “One condition.”

Barely keeping a groan in check, Tommy nods. He gropes for the seat as he slumps down, trying to keep his feet. Adam is really fucking big. It’s not like Tommy hadn’t noticed before, either in the alleyway or after, but he’s really seriously noticing now.

“I want to blow you first.”

Tommy chokes on nothing at all. “But–”

“No buts,” Adam says, urging him up onto the seat with a hand splayed out low on his hip. “My money, my choice, right?”

“Yeah.” Scooting in further as Adam climbs up after him, Tommy tears off his sunglasses, lets them drop into the footwell. “Yeah, just. You sure, man?”

“So very sure,” Adam says, sounding way more confident than he looks as he fishes for the cash and stuffs it into Tommy’s front pocket. “Don’t fake it, okay? I want to know what you really like, not what you think I’m gonna.”

There’s a whole mess of stuff going on in Tommy’s belly. He’s pretty sure he’s turned on. And nervous. And really fucking confused, because paying somebody to let you suck them off doesn’t really fit with his whole worldview, but what the fuck ever, Adam’s unzipping his jeans and hauling them down, and the best Tommy’s got is a weird squeaking noise and, “Okay.”

“I mean it,” Adam says, hands shaking where they’re resting lightly on Tommy’s hips, thumbs above the waistband of his shorts. “I’m completely broke. No getting yourself off so you can milk me for another quickie later. I want to do it.”

As much as Tommy desperately wants whatever the hell Adam’s planning on here, thinking about Friday has been the only thing to get him this far into the week. He scrubs a hand across his mouth, breathing hard, and blurts, “What about tomorrow?”

About to get his hands on Tommy’s junk, Adam hesitates. Tommy fucking whines. He really fucking wants Adam’s hands right the hell now “I can still do it,” Adam says, sounding about half as sure as before.

“Okay, okay, I got an idea,” Tommy babbles, because Adam’s dragging down his shorts one-handed, getting the whole works bunched down around his knees, and Adam looks really fucking hot up there. Even hotter when he nudges Tommy’s legs apart, kneels between them. “I can work it so you’re covered Friday, okay? So you can just like, do whatever you want now.”

A question shows on Adam’s face, one totally different from the, “Anything?” that comes tumbling out.

One side of Tommy’s mouth hooks up in a crazy grin. “You wanna fuck on a hall pass?”

“I’m going to get in so much shit,” Adam groans, staring down at Tommy’s naked dick. He gropes across the ceiling, aiming for the dome light, and groans louder when the inside of the car floods bright. “It’s so, so worth it.”

Trying to keep it hands off, Tommy grabs onto the back of the seat with one and Adam with the other. He is really fucking hard, so hard he’s aching, leaking, and all Adam’s doing is fucking staring at him. “Oh shit, please, c’mon, you said you only had like fifteen five minutes ago.”

“If you’d quit wanting to fucking hook up during school,” Adam says, and fists his cock, gives it a rough tug. It’s almost too much, and Tommy arches up off the seat, his foot braced on the closed door skidding down to thump onto the floor. “Tommy?”

“Fuck, it’s good,” Tommy says, fucking up into Adam’s fist without thinking, groaning miserably when Adam’s hold tightens, keeps him from going anywhere. He’s not at all ready for the brush of Adam’s lips over the head, or for the sneaky, fucking filthy-delicious slide of Adam’s tongue along the slit up beneath foreskin, tracing along the sensitive ridge. He tries asking what sort of fucking amazing porn Adam’s been watching and all that comes out is a thready moan.

“Stay still,” Adam says, moving his hand up to slide it back down again, baring the head so his breath skims it hot and damp. “I’m new at this, remember?”

Tommy tries, he really, really fucking gives it like a hundred and ten percent, but the second Adam’s mouth starts sliding down, all slick and wet and fucking burning him up inside, he bucks up, gasps, “Sorry, fuck, can’t.”

“Fine,” Adam grunts, and the next thing Tommy knows, there’s a forearm braced across his hips, all Adam’s weight bearing him back down to the seat. His brain gets stuck somewhere between panic and oh fuck yes, and he ends up flailing stupidly, his knee banging off the centre console and his wrist cracking against the door, and he practically fucking shouts, “M’fine!” at Adam, “I’m fucking peachy perfect, don’t stop, Jesus.”

This time when Adam hums agreement, it’s around Tommy’s fucking dick, thrumming all the way into the marrow of his bones. His hips jerk, trying to drive his cock deeper into the sweet warmth cradling it, and again when he barely gets anywhere at all, Adam actually managing to hold him down with one arm. “Holy fuck,” Tommy gasps, and loses every last scrap of air he’s ever breathed when Adam hums again.

Unable to do anything but lie there and take it, something Tommy’s so far from accustomed to he’s not sure what to think, he ends up focusing way too hard on exactly what Adam’s doing down there. Like, he’s hyperaware of every swipe of Adam’s tongue, how it flattens out against the underside on the downstroke, smoothing the way, or how Adam seems to really like playing around at the head, sucking on his slit and dragging one hand up to make Tommy’s foreskin bunch up around his lips. Maybe if Tommy were more used to the whole getting blown thing, he wouldn’t be so close to losing it, but Adam wasn’t fucking kidding when he said he wanted to find out what Tommy likes. He’s going at it like it’s the cure for fucking cancer or something, working his way around to pinching foreskin between his lips, giving it a little tug, losing his grip when he grins happily at the wrecked noise that comes flying out of Tommy’s throat.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Adam says, nuzzling at Tommy’s sac, making like he wants to start playing around down there too, get his tongue heading places Tommy didn’t figure on it going. “Is it really that good? You’re making so much noise, Tommy, tell me it’s not an act.”

“What the fuck,” Tommy grits out, “are you fucking cracked, yes, it’s that good, what the fuck are you talking for?”

Adam laughs, delighted, a sound way too bright and happy for a blowjob in the backseat of a borrowed car, and sucks half of Tommy’s dick straight into his mouth. He fumbles around for a minute, juggling holding Tommy down and figuring out how to move his head. When he gets into it, he really fucking gets into it, slow steady rhythm like nothing else tearing Tommy down, making him pant and twist and grab at the back of Adam’s head, desperate for a little more, just one little bit more.

And Adam gives it to him, right on the edge of choking, Tommy can feel the urge building up low in Adam’s throat, the way he’s shaking, shoulders heaving. Tommy gasps a warning seconds too late, spunk already shooting into Adam’s mouth. Adam chokes for real then, jerking back but keeping his hand on Tommy’s cock, jacking him through it, and long before the last bits of come have dribbled down Adam’s fingers, Tommy’s laughing like a total loon.

“What?” Adam asks roughly, maybe a bit grumpily.

“That was fucking amazing,” Tommy says, flopped back lose-limbed and boneless, and trying to yank Adam down closer anyway. “You are like, I mean, Jesus, c’mere and stick your tongue down my throat.”

“Well, okay,” Adam says, happiness leaking through again, and gives Tommy his warm, come-seared mouth, lets Tommy lick over it and into it and suck on his tongue, slick and dirty. Tommy’s the one who ends up cramming his tongue down Adam’s throat, but Adam doesn’t seem to mind, making sweet pleased noises between the wet sounds of them kissing. His hands keep wandering, too, a possessive, satisfied stroke all down the insides of Tommy’s bare thighs and up again, over his hips to frame his junk, sneaking in like Adam wants to get him ready to go again.

“Hall pass,” Tommy murmurs, nipping at Adam’s chin. “You get yourself fucking grounded before Friday and I’m gonna bust you out all Prison Break style.”

“What about you?” Adam asks, thumb stroking gently along Tommy’s jaw. “What are you doing here in the middle of the school day wearing your civvies?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m the pro here, remember?” Pushing Adam up, Tommy gets a good look at his clothes, looking for any of their mess on him. Tommy’s own jeans are toast. “And like, speaking of,” Tommy says, kicking at his boot, happy the laces are loose and it slips right off so he can shove his jeans off one leg, haul his knee high to open right up, give Adam plenty to see. “You gonna follow through here? ‘Cause somebody promised me a money shot.”

“Tommy,” is all Adam manages as he gropes for his fly, eyes glued to Tommy’s junk, probably the dark shadows down lower. “Do you really–”

Tommy bumps Adam’s ass with his heel. “Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

Then it’s, “Oh my god,” from Adam, followed by a whole slew of ragged, pretty impressive curses as he gets his dick out, pumping fat and shiny-slick through his fist. Tommy hikes his shirt up, tries to sling his other leg over the back of the seat but Adam’s kneeling on his jeans, fingers digging into Tommy’s thigh just above his kneecap keeping him down. He’s still trying to figure out which is better, watching Adam’s dick or his face, when Adam blows in it in a completely spectacular way, going from hot shit to kind of absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous, face twisted up and mouth slack, hair a mess, and the sounds he’s making better than any porno Tommy’s ever seen.

There’s warm jizz everywhere between Tommy’s legs, his balls and his half-hard cock, a couple drops landing high beside his bellybutton, dripping into it. Getting a hand right in there, Tommy smears it around, bites down hard on his lip as it goes from slick to stuttering dry as he jacks his cock. Not wanting to totally block Adam’s view as he’s coming down, Tommy rubs come up over his belly, getting off all over again on the thick smell of it in the hot, close car. Spunk on the seats or not, whoever owns this thing is gonna be in for a big surprise after final bell.

“I’m so getting expelled,” Adam grunts, swaying forward to catch himself with the palm of one hand on Tommy’s shoulder. He sticks to the cotton when he goes to touch Tommy’s face. “Wow, um. Awkward.”

“S’not,” Tommy says, nuzzling into Adam’s hand, getting some of that mess smeared onto his cheek. “It’s really fucking hot. I’m gonna stink like sex all fucking day.”

“I really didn’t think about that,” Adam says, a catch in his voice like now that he is, he’s not gonna stop any time soon. “And seriously, what are you doing here?”

“Booty call.” Pushing up on an elbow, Tommy starts groping around for his jeans. “You’re gonna get caught if you don’t get your ass in there.”

Adam plants a hand back on Tommy’s shoulder, shoving him back down again. “I mean it, Tommy. I don’t care if you’re skipping. Just, tell me?”

“It’s no big deal,” Tommy grumbles. When Adam doesn’t let up, keeps looking at him like he’s withholding blowjobs just to be an ass, he heaves a sigh. “They piss all over me, okay? I’m doing this wrong and that wrong and I’m wrong. So I pissed all over their fucking Madonna.”

Adam’s eyes widen. “You took a leak on a painting?”

“No,” Tommy snorts. “The statue in the courtyard. Not like pigeons aren’t shitting on the thing all the time anyway.”

Sinking down into the seat, Adam drags in a deep breath. “Did they kick you out?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? No way.” Laid out flat on his back, Tommy finally nabs his jeans and starts hauling them on. “As if they’re gonna give up all the money my parents fling at them. Nope, now they figure I need special attention. Lots of Hail Marys with my homework. And like, I’ll probably wake up one night roped to my fucking bed with some gross old priest with his hands all over me trying to ‘excise my demons’,” he says, complete with air quotes after he’s all zipped up.

“That’s actually really creepy,” Adam mutters, following suit with getting his clothes sorted out.

“Fucking tell me about it. Forget Hollywood horror, man, the Church is fucking terrifying.”

Looking haunted, Adam hauls Tommy in for an awkward, sideways hug. “If you think they’re gonna try that for real, you can hide out at my place.”

A bright, warm glow breaks out in Tommy’s chest. “Aw,” he says, nosing in under Adam’s jaw. “You gonna protect me from Jesus?”

“Think I could fend him off with a menorah? And maybe a dreidel, if I can find it.” With a quick kiss to the top of Tommy’s head, as if he really is a five year old afraid of the big bad Jesus monster, Adam reluctantly pulls away. “I’ve got to get back to class. If anybody asks, I can say I was sick, but if I’m gone much longer, they’ll send me to the school nurse.”

“Yeah, okay,” Tommy says, giving Adam a small shove with his shoulder. “Friday, right?”

“Unless you’re planning on crashing my photography class tomorrow, yeah.” In the middle of shuffling backwards off the seat, door kicked open, Adam swoops back in to steal another kiss. “Warn me if you’re gonna. I’ll bum some cash off somebody.”

“Freak,” Tommy says, shoving him out into the light with his bootless foot.

A hand flung up to protect his eyes from the sun, Adam counters, “Cheap.”

“Baby, you know it.”

After Adam’s gone, one final wave before he ducks back into the school, Tommy cracks a window for the poor schmuck destroying the environment with his giantass SUV, and locks the door so it doesn’t get jacked. Scrubbing first one hand then the other clean on his jeans, he slides his sunglasses back on. He hadn’t really expected Adam to ditch classes. But with his history of fuck-and-go, he hadn’t expected to feel like the one ditched, either.

*

“No way,” Adam says, grabbing desperately at the sleeve of Tommy’s jacket and planting his boots like he’s mired in a tar pit. “There is no way this is going to work. I don’t have a fake ID. That guy on the door looks like he eats fake IDs.”

“He’s a pussycat,” Tommy says, easing back into Adam, settled all along his front in the middle of the busy late-night sidewalk. “Trust me on this one, baby, I’m gonna get you in there.”

Looking up at the garish neon sign, Adam’s mouth crumples. “I’m not sure I want to go in there.”

“Don’t look at the tits if you don’t want to,” Tommy says, dragging Adam along by one wrist. “There’s booze in there. Cheap booze, man.”

“Are you gonna try to get me drunk?” Adam asks, a wry twist to his mouth, wary spark to his eyes.

“Hell yeah. Watch this shit.” Flinging Bruce, the guy on the door, a warning glance, Tommy makes for the entrance with Adam stumbling along in his wake. About a dozen feet from the threshold, Bruce stands up, shouts, “Hey, you, jackass!” making Adam almost jump out of his fucking skin before he figures out it was aimed into the dark of the club, not at them. Smooth as silk, Tommy leads the way inside, straight past the stage to the back through the flashing lights and blaring music like a slap to the face, and shoves Adam down into a tacky half-moon booth.

Dazed, sprawled in an awkward, sexy heap, Adam gapes up at him. “What the hell just happened?”

“Could say I’m his dirty little secret,” Tommy says, hauling the rickety table out far enough to get in beside Adam, one leg tucked up on the seat and the other slung over Adam’s lap. “I wouldn’t actually blow the fucking whistle on the guy, ’cause that’s just a shitty stunt to pull, but slipping up and letting a minor in here trumps the whole sex with one thing.”

“Holy shit.” Adam lets out a nervous, disbelieving laugh, gaze darting all over the place as he tries to take in all the cheap thrills, the bar crammed into one corner and the girls he isn’t really interested in but can’t help staring at as they do the dirty bump ‘n grind against gleaming gold poles. “You had sex with that guy?”

Sucked him off, more like, with him looking guiltily turned on the entire time. Tommy shrugs. “Just the once. S’enough, right?”

Adam’s hand tightens roughly on Tommy’s hip. He swallows hard a couple times before he manages to squeak some words out. “I think I need that booze you promised.”

“Not before you tell me what that just was,” Tommy says, wriggling closer, arm slung around Adam’s neck and a shit-eating grin taking over his face. Places like these always turn him into the cockiest little shit. The filthy stink of booze and the sex nobody’s supposed to have, the cheap porno glitz, the thudding bass line steady as a good fuck, it all sinks into his bones, makes him crazy in the best way. “You gettin’ jealous on me?”

“It’s dumb,” Adam says, gaze cutting sideways.

“It’s hot,” Tommy counters, getting in Adam’s face. “Wanna keep me all to yourself, sugar baby?”

Adam’s hand is in Tommy’s hair long before he’s even thought of putting it there, going by the look on his face. “God,” he says, breathing out on another one of those shaking laughs. “You even talk like we’re in a porno, and it’s still somehow really hot.”

“Cheap and easy, that’s me,” Tommy says. “Lemme go so I can get you that beer.”

Nose wrinkling, Adam says, “Beer is disgusting.”

“Straight shot it is.” Darting in, Tommy catches Adam in a sloppy, lopsided kiss, breaking it off before Adam’s got a chance to fix it up, get him sidetracked. “Couple of those in you, you won’t notice how shitty the beer is.”

Adam’s grip goes tight again, a jolt of fear this time as he eyeballs the girls working the floor offering up a faceful of tits and a lap dance to any and all takers. “You’re not leaving me here by myself.”

“Not leaving you,” Tommy promises. “See that guy at the bar, looking like he’s not one bit interested in me practically sitting on your dick?”

Searching the faces of the few guys over there, Adam slowly says, “Yeah?”

“He’s actually really, really interested in me sitting on your dick. I’m gonna get you some booze, and see how interested.”

In two seconds flat, Adam goes from intrigued to flat out terrified. Before Tommy can get another word in, he blurts, “Are you fucking gateway prostituting me?”

“Jesus, no. No, like, no fucking way. Shit. Don’t dump me on my ass, I’m not, fuck.” Tommy yanks a hand back through his hair, real panic bitter in the back of his throat. Afraid Adam’s going to make a break for it, Tommy swings up into his lap, as if Tommy’s bony ass is going to be enough to keep him pinned down. “You don’t have to do shit. There’s this party I wanna take you to, okay? And some sleazy shit can go down if you let it, but mostly they’re just looking for eye candy. So you’re like, my date, and if you’re cool with some making out and heavy petting and that kinda thing, letting ‘em watch, y’know, there’s free booze and some pot and maybe a couple bills in it for us.”

“I think that’s pretty much the definition of gateway,” Adam says, doubt plastered all over his face.

“I’m really fucking serious. There is like zero pressure.” Tommy gnaws on the corner of his lip. “Okay, there’s some, because I wanna see you mellowed out and fuckable, but you’re already kinda that second one, and maybe my dick’s doing all the talking for me here.”

Adam gives Reese, the guy at the bar, another slow once-over. Trying not to be a total peer-pressuring douche, Tommy resists the urge to lean into Adam’s hand settling on his waist, or to scoot those few inches closer to get his cock nestled up against Adam’s. He probably should’ve run the plan by Adam before dragging him in here. But Hollywood can go fuck itself, it’s no big fucking deal.

“We don’t have to,” Tommy says. “I’m not dumb enough to go on my own, but you’re not like, destroying my night or some shit if you’re not into it. We can hang here, have a few. We can get lost, I don’t care.”

Still a wary eye on Reese, Adam eventually says, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m fairly prone to putting out for you. You don’t need to get me drunk or high.”

“But I want to. If you want to, I mean.” Feeling young and stupid, Tommy tugs on the front of Adam’s tee, liking the whole punk skulls motif. With a slick black suit jacket over it, the ripped up jeans and boots, Adam doesn’t look like some high school kid out playing with the big boys. Tommy does, but prettyboy twink is his thing. Anybody at that party tonight getting a good look at him perched in Adam’s lap is gonna bust a nut. “But whatever, I just wanna like, you know, with you.”

Adam gives him a long, steady look. “You’d better get me that shot,” he finally says, his hand sliding down Tommy’s thigh. “I’m gonna need it.”

“Yeah?” Bracing both hands on the booth behind Adam, penning him in, Tommy settles lower into his lap. “You sure? ‘Cause you don’t have to. We could do our own thing.”

“Go get me the fucking shot,” Adam says, laughing and playfully shoving Tommy back, hardly budging him an inch. “And you’d better fucking watch out for me, because this is the craziest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Aside from picking up a hooker on a school night.” Grinning at the dark glare Adam levels his way, Tommy leans in, mouth dragging along Adam’s jaw to end in a soft, sweet kiss beneath his ear. “I’ll totally take care of you,” he says, an electric thrill buzzing down low in his belly when Adam holds on tighter. “Promise.”

*

Clutched tightly around Tommy’s, Adam’s hand is hot and sweaty. The alleyway’s dark, the laughter of the girls up front echoing off water-stained brick. Adam’s steps are slow and careful, like somebody who isn’t sure if they’re drunk or not, and who doesn’t want anybody else to notice. Since he’s only had two shots and one beer in the last hour, Tommy doubts it’s the booze he’s feeling.

“Easy, big guy,” Tommy says, giving Adam’s hand a squeeze. “It’s a party, not the freakin’ hangman.”

“This is such a fucking bad idea,” Adam moans through the smile he’s trying to keep off his face. “I’m going to be grounded for life.”

Trotting forward a few steps, still holding Adam’s hand, Tommy starts walking backwards so he can watch Adam watching him. “Only if somebody finds out. Believe me, nobody there is gonna tell anybody they ever saw your pretty face.”

“You’re the pretty one,” Adam says, that bright smile finally breaking through. “I’m handsome. Just ask my mom.”

Half a dozen steps from the mouth of the alley, the stretch limo waiting, Tommy stops short. Adam nearly ploughs right into him, catching them both at the last second with feet planted and hands grabbing at Tommy’s arms. “S’right,” Tommy says, grinning up at him, nose to nose, Adam’s face a gorgeous blur, “I’m the pretty one, so you put me where you want me. Anywhere you want me.”

“That,” Adam says, mostly a groan, “that doesn’t sound like a good idea. I want some pretty bad stuff right now.”

“Tell me all about it, okay?” Tommy backs up a step, then another, Adam following along the whole way to the limo, sliding in smoothly behind him. They’re the last ones in. There’s more music playing in here, something heavy and current, over-processed, but Tommy’s not paying much attention to the tunes, or the guy who grumbles and reaches around Adam to clunk the door shut. “Right now, babyboy, tell me what you wanna do to me.”

Adam’s answer is a sharp breath and a hand cupping Tommy’s jaw, a thumb smearing over his lips. What Adam wants is written all over his face, and it’s not half as bad as he seems to think it is. Before he manages to get his tongue in Tommy’s mouth, though, somebody barks a laugh over the music and he startles away.

“Hey,” Tommy says, turning him back around. “I was all on board for where that shit was heading.”

Adam flicks a glance over his shoulder. “It’s weird with people watching.”

Following Adam’s gaze, taking in the two girls on the other seat already going at it hot and heavy, Reese watching them and the other dude already in the limo when they got there–probably another recruiter for the night’s entertainment–dividing his attention between the girls and them, Tommy shrugs. “S’only a couple of ‘em. Be more at the party, better to figure out now you’re not into it.”

“Not weird bad,” Adam says, a shy quirk to his mouth.

“Ooh,” Tommy says, long and saucy. He should’ve fucking figured. Every time he thinks he’s got Adam pinned, some new twist comes flying his way. “You like it, huh? Gonna give ‘em something worth watching?”

“I’d ask if you ever quit talking,” Adam says, “but I get the feeling I already know the answer.”

“I’d shut up if you wanted me to, maybe.” Scooting further along the seat, Tommy settles deeper into it, going for relaxed and lazy while his insides are busy tying themselves up in crazy complicated knots as Adam crawls after him. “But that’s not your thing. You like hearing me. You wanna know exactly what you’re doing to me when you got your hands on me.”

“Yeah,” Adam says, throat working. “Yeah, I–”

“Start off slow,” says the guy Tommy doesn’t know. When Adam gives him a blank look, he shrugs. “Tell me I’m wrong, but if it is your first time working a crowd? Ease into it here, put on a show there.”

A rueful laugh puffs against Tommy’s cheek where Adam’s leaning in. “I’m that obvious?”

The guy shrugs again and jerks a thumb at the wet bar. “Whatever you want to take the edge off.”

There’s more alcohol there, a few coolers mixed in with the hard spirits, but Adam’s gaze lands on the baggie of joints already rolled and waiting. Eyebrows inching up, that hyperactive jitter in his belly kicking it up a notch, Tommy asks, “Oh man, you sure you wanna, right off the bat like that?”

“Seems that’s our thing.” Adam hooks a couple fingers in Tommy’s front pocket, holding on. He’s smiling still, but there’s an eager edge to it, mischievous and hopeful. “You promised to take care of me, remember?”

“Oh man,” Tommy repeats, lunging for the joints before he has a chance to think this one through. “I’m so gonna take care of you. It’s not like– It isn’t, is it?” Finally getting a grip on the Zippo he keeps fumbling, he scoots back onto the seat, the music, the quiet noise of the girls making out, the steady thrum of rubber on asphalt all a backdrop as the world narrows down to him and Adam again. “You’ve done it before, right?”

“Kinda. A couple times, anyway.” Eyes on Tommy’s hands, Adam watches him light up, a heavy weight in Adam’s gaze like they’re smack in the middle of doing something a hell of a lot dirtier. There’s an extra buzz to the smoke curling mellow in Tommy’s lungs as he breathes in, holds it. When the buzz turns to a tingle, then an itch, he blows it out in a slow, thin stream.

“So you wanna do it this way,” Tommy asks, offering up the spliff, “or you wanna suck it off my tongue?”

Adam doesn’t even glance at the joint. “Do you really have to ask?”

“Fucking awesome,” Tommy says, falling back into the corner, legs spread wide and arms slung across the seatback. “Climb on up, gorgeous.”

In a split-second’s hesitation, Adam sneaks a glance to see who’s watching. That they’ve got an audience doesn’t seem to faze him, and he looks sort of like he doesn’t give a shit if they’re paying attention, but there’s something in his face that tells Tommy that last one’s an act. Whether he knows it or not, Adam’s seriously into the idea of putting on a show. But the way he slides onto Tommy’s lap, smooth and confident, doesn’t fit with the nervous glint in his eyes. Both nail Tommy like a fucking truckload of bricks.

“You sure you want me up here?” Adam asks, carefully balanced on his knees, barely any of his weight touching Tommy’s thighs.

“Fuck yeah I want you up there.” Right where Tommy can watch, where he can imagine them doing those dirty things lurking in Adam’s eyes. Joint pinched between thumb and forefinger, he waits for a small nod from Adam to say he’s ready before taking a hit. He doesn’t hold it as long this time, barely a few seconds gone by when he tilts his chin up, an invitation in the part of his lips for Adam to come on down. A tiny coil of smoke leaks free before Adam’s mouth covers his, weird at first without the push of Adam’s tongue to follow, then almost fucking better when he breathes out and Adam breathes in, pulling warm smoke straight up from Tommy’s chest down into his.

When Adam starts to let it go too soon, Tommy slaps a hand over his mouth. “Bit longer, babyboy,” Tommy says, feeling the curve of a grin forming against his palm, wispy white-grey slipping between his fingers. “C’mon, c’mon, suck it back in.”

Faint smoke explodes around Tommy’s hand on a laugh. “Sorry,” Adam says, coughing a little, still laughing. “It’s just, wow.”

Hitching up an eyebrow, Tommy takes another draw. He croaks out, “Wow?” on a puff of smoke.

“Oh hey, no,” Adam says, darting down, snake-quick, “don’t,” and then his mouth’s on Tommy’s again, covering it completely, sucking the hit out of Tommy’s lungs before he’s ready to give it up. When Adam doesn’t get a mouthful of smoke, he decides to go for Tommy’s tongue instead, startling Tommy into losing the breath he’s holding.

Smoke wafting away, wasted, Tommy pokes Adam in the chest with the hand holding what’s left of their joint. “Wow what, huh?”

“I didn’t expect it to be,” Adam says, with a vague gesture apparently supposed to explain whatever the hell it was he didn’t expect.

Both eyebrows winging up this time, Tommy holds the joint away in an obvious threat. Not that he’s got the willpower to go through with it, but whatever. It gets the point across.

“Not really like kissing you at all,” Adam says. “Kinda, um. Dirty?”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, and goes for another drag, “dirty like sucking me off in the backseat of some soccer mom’s car?”

“Shit,” comes flying out of Adam’s mouth, then, “fuck,” as the limo slows down for a light, his careful balancing act thrown all to hell. He finally tumbles down into Tommy’s lap, heavy and solid, and Tommy loses the hit he’s holding on a sharp grunt. In the back of that SUV, Adam didn’t even break a sweat holding him down. With Adam on top of him like this, Tommy’s not going anywhere Adam doesn’t want him to. “Shit, sorry.”

“About fucking time.” Tommy slaps a hand to Adam’s thigh to keep him there, pure heat pushing down on Tommy’s dick. “Fuck, that feels so fucking good, been wanting you on top of me again, holy fuck,” he says, and grinds up as he goes for one last hit, gesturing for Adam to come get it.

Adam comes and gets it, alright. In the time it takes him to get his mouth on Tommy’s, he figures out exactly how to get his cock grinding against Tommy’s, rough with two layers of denim between them, so fucking amazing Tommy wants to get their dicks out right there, jack them off together. That’s not the kinda shit he signed Adam up for, though, so he gets rid of the roach, fumbles for a fresh joint while Adam’s up there driving him fucking crazy. When the baggie hits the floor, he gives up entirely, grabs onto Adam’s ass with both hands and grits out, “Oh fuck you, c’mon and kiss me.”

“Thought you were gonna get me high?” Adam asks, a teasing flash of a smile.

“Fuck you,” Tommy groans, dropping his head back against the seat. He totally ended up smoking more of that joint than Adam did, and it’s hitting him fucking hard. “You do me this time.”

Twisting around to snatch up the baggie, Adam’s got a joint out and lit before Tommy’s got time to blink. He cups Tommy’s jaw, his usual thing, but right when he takes the hit like a fucking pro, his hand slides down, fits to Tommy’s throat to tilt his face up. Adam doesn’t wait for Tommy to breathe it in, he fucking pushes it into Tommy’s mouth, shoves his tongue right in after, kissing him through the smoke. Barely a scrap of the drug makes it into Tommy’s bloodstream but it feels like he sucked down the whole joint in one go, lips tingling, stomach jittering, the fucking marrow in his bones buzzing with it.

“Jesus,” Tommy says, somehow gone from feeling up Adam’s pretty spectacular ass to grasping at his shirt like some fainting chick in an old movie. “Jesus, fuck.”

“More?” Adam asks, delighted, pure fucking evil as the cherry glows red.

“Fuck yes, more,” Tommy says, straining up. He doesn’t get right away why he goes nowhere fast. It takes the flex of Adam’s fingers on his throat to clue him in, and by then Adam’s all up in his mouth again, smooth curl of smoke and a slick, teasing curl of tongue, smoke-sweet and heady.

“Just in time,” somebody says, the seat dipping.

“Fuck,” Tommy bites out when Adam pulls away long before he’s had enough. Turns out that wasn’t a red they stopped for, but to pick up another round of entertainment. This bunch comes with the guy shelling out for the limo and a couple hangers-on, all of them more than a few drinks into the party already by Tommy’s guess. There are bodies fucking everywhere, right up in Tommy’s space, and whatever, like he cares, but Adam’s quit kissing him and doesn’t look like he’s gonna get back to it any time soon.

“Hey,” Tommy says, giving him a quick jostle. “Showtime now, babyboy.”

A tattletale twitch of nerves ekes out around the smooth operator shit Adam hauled out of nowhere. He goes to bring the joint up, flashing wide-eyed confusion when Tommy catches his wrist halfway there.

“Kiss me first,” Tommy says. He means for it to ease Adam back into the thing they’re doing here. It ends up being more for him, though, settling the weird, unpleasant spike that nailed him the second he caught the open, hungry appreciation a couple of the guys and the girl jammed between them aimed Adam’s way. Tommy’s not blind, he knows he was included in that blatant assessment, chalked up as a sweet piece and welcome to stay, and yeah, it was all his idea to get Adam in on this. But here to be eye-candy or what the fuck ever, he wants Adam’s attention all on him.

The look in Adam’s eyes flickers over from confused to happy to slyly pleased. Leaning down, almost mouth to mouth again, he says, “Are you getting jealous on me, Tommy Joe?”

Tommy totally means to trot out some flip answer, shit about Adam being his date or whatever, but instead this brutally honest, “Yes,” comes hissing out of him. As soon as it does, he hopes he imagined saying it, ’cause that’s not the sort of thing that gets people paid the big bucks on gigs like these. From the way Adam’s looking at him, though, it’s a lost cause. He said it. He fucking said it, and really fucking loudly, too.

“Baby,” Adam says, one hand settling back on Tommy’s throat, the other, spliff burning away between two fingers, curving along Tommy’s jaw, thumb at Tommy’s lips to stroke them open, “baby, all you had to do was say,” and then he’s kissing Tommy again. It’s exactly the same as every other one of his kisses and totally fucking different too, all the eagerness still there but in a slow burn, gradually pushing deeper, coaxing Tommy into giving up more when all the times before he’d been quick to snatch up anything and everything he could get.

When Adam eases back, Tommy makes a clumsy grab for his face, hauling him right back down again. “Fuck, oh fuck,” he says straight into Adam’s mouth, practically fucking vibrating out of his skin with how badly he wants some more just like that. “Don’t fucking stop.”

“Not going to,” Adam says. His fingers flex on Tommy’s throat, a promise or a warning, as he draws back again, puts the joint to his lips for a slow drag. He doesn’t bother to ask if Tommy wants any. The second their lips touch, Tommy breathes it all in, mellow tang over the familiar scent of Adam’s skin, and then he goes chasing after more, face buried in the crook of Adam’s neck, mouth open on what he meant to be a kiss but turns out to be him greedily trying to breathe Adam in, like Adam’s the drug he wants swimming through his blood, buzzing in his brain.

“I wanna fuck,” Tommy hears himself say, muffled and distant. “Christ, Adam, I wanna fuck so bad.”

Air whistles in through Adam’s teeth. Adam’s dick is right there, fucking raring to go, and Tommy wants to get his fucking hands all over it, stuff his mouth full of it. But Adam goes and asks, “For real fuck?” and Tommy’s slammed with the image of Adam’s dick shoved up hot and thick inside him, what it’d be like to get fucked, no messing around, seriously and thoroughly fucked.

“Yeah,” Tommy says, aware of all the eyes on them, the way he’s grinding up into Adam’s ass, but none of it really registering through the haze in his head. It’s so not the pot doing it. He’s fucking high on Adam’s kisses. “Yeah, for real fuck, I really wanna.”

Clutching at Tommy’s shoulders trying to ride the rough buck of Tommy’s hips, Adam grates out, “Can you wait ’til we get to the party?”

Tommy’s dick jerks so fucking hard all the air’s punched straight out of his lungs. The first thing that hits him is maybe now he’s gonna have to wait, because he might’ve totally just blew it in his shorts. The second thing that hits him, nails him right in the fucking gut, is that Adam said yes. Not no, or maybe, but can Tommy fucking wait until they get to the goddamn party.

“Fuck the party. I’m not fucking you at the fucking party,” Tommy says, grabbing onto the seat trying to sit up. “Stop the fucking car, we’re getting out.”

“Tommy–”

“Double if you stay,” Reese says, cutting in smooth as an oil slick.

“No deal,” Tommy says. “Thanks for the lift.”

Reese looks to Adam, one eyebrow raised. Adam gives an easy shrug, angling his body slightly to hide his knuckles gone white on Tommy’s wrist. “He’s my date. I go where he goes.”

“You’re both very sure about this?” Reese asks, pausing with a finger on the intercom.

“Like, seriously,” Tommy says, “stop the motherfucking car already.”

Hitting the intercom, Reese calmly says, “Pull up here, please.” The car rolls to a easy stop at the curb. A couple girls throw uneasy looks their way as they shuffle across the seat. Not Tommy’s problem. Either they’re into what they’re doing, or they’re not. Half an hour ago, Tommy totally was.

“I’d do it,” Adam says, only halfway out of the limo, one foot on the concrete. “If you want. As long as it’s only you.”

“Jesus.” Tommy scrubs a hand back through his hair. He wants to do it. He wants every single fucking person in there to know exactly what type of shit Adam’s willing to let him get away with. “That is like the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever said, fuck.” Grabbing onto Adam’s hand, Tommy yanks him up onto the sidewalk. Without a word, somebody slams the door shut behind him and the limo slides back into the street, gliding away.

Squinting up at a mess of advertising, Adam asks, “Where the hell are we?”

“Don’t care.” Getting a hand in Adam’s belt, Tommy drags him over to a wall, shoves him up against it and fucking plasters himself to Adam’s chest, grinding his dick into Adam’s hip. “We’re gonna fuck, right?” he says, biting off a groan when Adam’s big hands cup his ass, pull him in to get him riding Adam’s thigh. There’s sweat glistening on Adam’s throat. Without thinking, he licks at it, thinks he can taste the booze and weed and lust burning through Adam’s blood, and then he starts sucking the salt from Adam’s skin, ready to cream his fucking shorts all over again if he hasn’t already.

“Tommy,” Adam rasps, “Tommy, oh my god, Tommy wait.”

It takes everything Tommy’s got, but he manages to quit biting at Adam’s neck long enough to grunt, “What?”

Adam licks at his lips, nervously scrubs them dry again. “You still want to?”

Tommy stares. He’s high as a fucking kite, so maybe he’s not hearing what he thinks he’s hearing, and he blinks a couple times, waiting for that worried, vaguely disappointed look to vanish from Adam’s face.

“I thought, since you wanted out of the limo–” Adam looks down, away, and Tommy wonders who the fuck just killed his puppy. “It’d be easier at the party?”

“The party,” Tommy says dumbly. “What the fucking fuck, are you that fucking high?”

Adam tries for a smile. “I’m, um, pretty high?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you gotta be.” Yanking Adam away from the wall, Tommy starts dragging him down the street. “Like, fuck, I almost fucking creamed myself back there, and you wanna know if I still wanna fuck?”

Stumbling along, Adam says, “Yes?”

Stopping short, Adam ploughing straight into him again, Tommy whips around, grabbing him up by the front of the shirt and barely resisting shaking the shit out of him. “They’d fucking watch. It’d be part of the goddamn show. Did you like not even fucking hear me? You’d be doing me with a fucking audience, Jesus Christ.”

Adam’s mouth works silently, then he says, “They’d pay a lot if you said it was my first time, wouldn’t they?”

Fuck,” Tommy spits, the only thing he can get out through the clench of his throat.

“I don’t really care if somebody else is watching,” Adam says, biting at his lip, doing a damn good job of keeping his voice steady like he doesn’t give a fuck, but he’s so turned on or scared or both that he’s shaking. “Somebody’ll see if we do it out here, anyway.”

“Not doing it out here,” Tommy grates, hauling Adam away from the wall again, heart trying to crack its way through his ribs when Adam just goes, letting Tommy drag him around like he’s a fucking rag doll. He saw the sign from the limo two blocks back, so that’s where he heads.

Adam’s eyes go wide. “In there?”

“Fuck yeah, in there.” Bypassing the front doors with their floodlights and deadbolts, Tommy leads Adam around the wing of the transept, makes a beeline straight for the side door cut south of the sanctuary. It’s locked too, but it’s old, tucked in a corner and not paid much attention to, and it’s the fucking easiest thing in the world for Tommy to jam his fake ID between the door and the jamb and jig it open.

“Holy shit,” Adam says.

“Probably couldna done that sober,” Tommy says, managing at the last second to turn the giggle building up in his belly to a slightly less insane-sounding laugh. He can’t believe he’s doing this shit. He can’t believe Adam hasn’t fucking called him on it yet. Hauling open the door, he says, “After you, sweetheart.”

Adam stares into the gloom. “This is breaking and entering,” he hisses.

“Anybody catches us, ‘least I’ll be on my knees,” Tommy says, and grabs for Adam’s wrist, pulls him in to give him a friendly reminder about the fucking boner Tommy’s carting around. “You wanna fuck me or not? ‘Cause I don’t have anything, but I can take it with some spit if you wanna to give it.”

“What,” Adam says, gaping, unresisting as Tommy backs into the church, bringing him along for the ride. “What, I thought, you’re not– You want me to fuck you?”

“Been wanting you to fuck me all fucking night.” Easing the door shut, Tommy waits for his eyes to adjust to the dimness. There are always a few lights left burning, mostly in the sanctuary, but all the way down here it’s barely enough for him to make out Adam’s face, the pure naked lust on it, the nervous excitement. “I want to get all fucking over your dick, you don’t even fucking know, okay, you like, fuck, Adam, it’s gonna be so fucking good.”

“Oh my god,” Adam groans, rough and hurt-sounding, and then he’s on Tommy, really fucking on him, hands pushing under his shirt and mouth hot, desperate, on his, the hard edge of teeth scraping his lips. Tommy stumbles back a couple steps, then a couple more, losing air on a grunt as his back hits a wall. Between kisses, he catches snatches of words, stuff like, “I’ve got,” and, “the guy, in the limo,” and Tommy doesn’t want to stop, he really fucking doesn’t, but there’s tons of really awesome floor for them to make use of and he wants Adam flat on his back fucking yesterday.

“Wait, wait, fuck, c’mon,” Tommy says, groping for Adam’s hand again and freezing when foil crinkles against his palm. “Is that a fucking rubber?”

“Lube,” Adam says, his smile showing clear through the shadows. “I told you, got it from the limo.”

“You are so fucking me right the fuck now.” Not waiting for Adam to voice the total fucking agreement plastered all over his face, Tommy grabs him by the belt and hauls him around the corner from the confessionals, over the communion rope and up the few steps into the sanctuary. Tommy goes to his knees in front of the altar, Adam’s back to it, and shoves his face into Adam’s crotch, rubbing his cheek against the thick heat pouring through worn jeans. “You gonna blow it if I suck you first?”

“I,” Adam starts, choking on the rest of it when Tommy tears open his fly. He flails for something to hold onto, one of his hands smacking back into the altar and the other shoving into Tommy’s hair. He tugs Tommy back, trying to shy away as Tommy reaches in to haul out his dick. “Don’t, oh god, don’t, I’ll lose it if you touch me.”

“Good,” Tommy says, and stuffs Adam’s leaking cock into his mouth. Adam’s hips buck once, a brutally hard shove that gets his cockhead wedged into the back of Tommy’s throat. Refusing to pull off, Tommy chokes on it, struggling to make his throat work as come shoots straight down the back of it, Adam’s ragged shout echoing through the nave, inside his skull. He barely manages, dizzy and coughing and come-thick saliva stringing from his lips when he rocks back onto his heels, scrambling to get out of his jacket, peel off his shirt so he’s half-naked on his knees at Adam’s feet, face wet and dick hard as a fucking rock.

Trembling fingers skim Tommy’s jaw, smear through the mess. The thud of Adam hitting the floor is almost lost in the harder kick of Tommy’s heart as Adam kisses his mouth clean, hands on Tommy’s shoulders trying to push him down. When Tommy doesn’t go, Adam pleads, “Now, please, fuck, now, let me suck you again.”

With a wild grin, Tommy shoves Adam off him. “Nope,” he says, rising up again to unbutton his jeans, get them and his sticky shorts shoved down around his knees. There’s not enough of a mess to prove that he really did lose it just from a bit of fucking around, but his dick’s shiny in the dim light, leaking way more than Adam’s was, and the hardest thing Tommy’s ever done in his whole fucking life is not jerk off right then and there. “You’re gonna get me ready. Lie the hell down already, gonna give you a real show.”

Slowly, Adam sinks back down onto one elbow, stretching out after Tommy says, “Yeah, c’mon, that’s it,” and starts crawling on up, awkwardly kicking one of his boots off so he can get his jeans down one leg, straddle Adam’s hips with his knees spread nice and wide. His fingernails are cutting angry red crescents into Adam’s arm but the crazy jittering in his belly won’t let him ease up, grab onto Adam’s shirt instead. “Get your fingers wet, put ‘em in me.”

“God,” Adam says, shakily tearing at the lube, his eyes on Tommy and not what he’s doing. When he drops the packet, fingers still dry, Tommy’s about to ask what the hell, he’s about to fucking blow here, he wants Adam to fuck him before he does, but Adam touches the inside of his forearm, tracing the shitty libra tattoo there. “You’re inked,” he says, dumbly.

Trying to figure out how the hell Adam’s only noticing it now, Tommy realises this is the first time he’s actually taken his fucking shirt off. “I, yeah,” Tommy says, shrugging a shoulder casually, as if the way Adam’s staring at him isn’t totally doing it for him. “Artist kinda sucked, but he was the only guy who’d do me without like, parental consent. Gonna fix it up someday.”

“Aquarius,” Adam says. “Me, I mean. No wonder I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“Yeah?” Tommy asks, like he needs Adam to say it again, like it actually means something. The heat spiking through his veins says it does, though. “Gettin’ kinda drafty up here. You planning on dicking me tonight or what?”

“Sorry,” Adam says, fumbling for the lube, smearing half of it all over his hand. “I just, I really haven’t–”

“Hey.” Catching Adam’s hand, Tommy guides it down between his legs, presses Adam’s fingers right where he wants them. “I’ve had a couple fingers before. You’re not gonna hurt me.”

Adam’s reply is a strangled groan. There’s total awestruck reverence in his eyes as he explores, smears lube from Tommy’s balls all the way up to the base of his spine. Before Tommy can tell him to hurry the fuck up again or end up with a faceful of jizz without his dick in Tommy’s ass first, he skims back down, presses one fingertip to Tommy’s hole, tentatively adding more pressure until the eagerness knocking around Tommy’s insides overrides the nervous anticipation and he loosens up enough to take it.

Turns out Adam’s finger up his ass isn’t anything at all like doing it himself. It’s bigger, thicker, feels a hell of a lot stronger, pushing easily past muscle it took Tommy three tries to get the guts to shove by. Adam slides in straight to the knuckle no problem, the rest of his fingers curved against Tommy’s ass as he hesitates, waits for something Tommy doesn’t realise he gets until Adam’s finger crooks, strokes all along his insides slow and easy on the way out.

“Fuck.” Squeezing his eyes shut, Tommy tries to keep from clenching up on the tip, shuddering when he can’t manage it and this weird, fucking gorgeous ache twists through his belly. “Do it again, all the way,” he says, pushing at Adam’s shirt, needing the warmth of bare skin under his hands while his body figures out what the fuck to do with the crazy hectic want razing his nerves, “c’mon, loosen me up for it, can’t fucking wait to get you in me.”

Groaning either Tommy’s name or a curse, Adam gets his other hand on Tommy’s ass, holds him still for the stroke of two fingers over his hole, circling the rim like he thinks Tommy needs some coaxing to take it.

“Quit fucking teasing,” Tommy growls at him, his hand fisted in Adam’s shirt skidding up to get stuck a couple inches from Adam’s throat. “Fucking finger me like you mean it.”

More pressure, still out but not in, and Tommy groans miserably, rocks back trying to get more. “Easy,” Adam says, lips bumping Tommy’s, hand in Tommy’s hair to urge him into a kiss, way too soft and sweet for anything they’ve done, what they’re right in the middle of doing, fucking in a goddamn church past midnight. And Adam won’t quit talking, shit like, “Breathe for me, that’s it, c’mon, do whatever you want me to, just let me–” and between one word and the next, one slow, shuddering breath, two of Adam’s fingers are inside him, filling him up, pressing strong and firm against the spot that makes Tommy’s whole body shake, thick precome squeezing out of his dick to smear wet and warm on Adam’s belly.

“So fucking good,” Tommy says, “so fucking good, gonna go fucking crazy when you’re fucking me, gotta do it now, want it fucking now,” running his mouth because he can’t stop, it’s flirting way too close to the edge of too much but he doesn’t want Adam to catch on, figure out he’s scared out of his fucking mind. He wants to ride Adam’s cock so bad, wants to know exactly what it’s like to feel somebody come in him, and if he doesn’t fucking stop thinking about it and just do it soon, he’s gonna fucking explode.

He is so not ready for Adam to take him at his word. Not even close to fucking ready for the blunt, wet push of Adam’s naked cock at his hole, for Adam’s hand on his hip trying to steady him as he sinks down without thinking, the sharp, spiky ache of taking a dick up the ass for the first time overriding everything. A hurt, broken noise wrenches straight up from the pit of his stomach.

“Don’t,” Adam gasps out, letting go of his dick to grab desperately at Tommy’s arms, almost haul him off again, “stop, god, I’m gonna come, please don’t move.”

Wedged wide open, fucked up achy pleasure burning him to ash from the inside out, Tommy’s not sure how the hell he manages it, but he does. He’s stuck smack between the urge to push Adam’s cock out and force it deeper, turn the terrible, amazing sensation of being half-fucked into something bearable, and he doesn’t mean to say anything, he seriously fucking tries to keep his mouth shut, but it all comes tumbling out anyway, a garbled mess begging Adam to shove it in, just fucking do it, and then they can wait, give Adam a minute to catch his breath, whatever the fuck Adam wants, but he’s gotta go all the way or Tommy’s gonna die.

Sucking in a ragged breath, Adam says, “Okay,” or, “Hang on,” or fuck, Tommy doesn’t even fucking know, but he plants his boots on the plush carpet and drives up with a grunt, buries his whole fucking dick straight up Tommy’s ass.

Tommy’s pretty fucking sure he screams. It’s echoing inside his head, the church, the hollowed-out ache in his gut where Adam’s filling him up. With a racket like that, Tommy expects Adam to call the whole thing off, but maybe it wasn’t so much a scream as a whimper, kinda exactly like the sounds he’s making now as Adam’s cock drags free, drives in again. For a long minute, all he can do is stare down at Adam, the way his face is twisted up like it hurts, like the place could collapse in on their heads and Adam wouldn’t even fucking notice, and then he realises he’s the one shoving down onto Adam’s dick rough and sloppy, muscles in his thighs burning as he chases after the echo of that first brutal thrust rippling through him.

“Oh god,” Adam says, eyes squeezed shut, blunt painted nails digging viciously into Tommy’s hips, “god, wait, I can’t, you gotta stop.”

Tommy gasps out, “Gonna come?” crazy manic grin on his face, permanently fucking plastered there, and Adam says, “I did, fuck, I already did, couldn’t,” but Tommy can’t fucking believe it, he honestly can’t, except maybe he’s a little slicker than he was when Adam started, maybe he’s riding Adam’s cock slippery with come, and he grinds down hard, ass to Adam’s thighs, shaking and trembling and he’d probably fucking collapse if Adam’s knees weren’t there to hold him up.

“Still hard,” Tommy says, watching Adam’s lip bleach white around the dig of his teeth. “You’re still fucking hard.”

“I can’t come again, fuck, I can’t, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“S’hurt?” Tommy eases up a fraction, back down again, and Adam’s face crumples on a sharp hiss of air. “Too much? Or it hurt kinda good, good enough you’re gonna let me ride you anyway?”

Adam snarls a curse, a jolt of fear or something just as fucked-up and amazing lancing Tommy’s heart as he seizes a handful of Tommy’s hair, yanks him down with one arm pinned behind his back, both of Adam’s arms around him, crushing him to Adam’s chest. Caught like that, the last fucking thing Tommy’s expecting is Adam’s cock shoving back in, for Adam to hold him down and just fucking lay into him, fuck the breath out of his lungs and the feeling out of his legs, groaning curses and pleas the whole fucking time, shakily asking if this is what Tommy wants, if it’s good enough.

Never once in Tommy’s whole fucking life has he felt anything in a church except boredom, or disgust, or pure seething resentment for the shit shovelled down his throat. Trapped in Adam’s arms, his lungs burning and body aching, Adam’s heartbeat thudding louder in his chest than his own, this is as close to ecstasy as Tommy’s ever been. He can’t hear, can’t think, doesn’t even feel like he needs to, and like a total fucking lunatic he laughs when he comes, broken and wrecked and elated, pure fucking joy for the pleasure tearing through him, spilling out into Adam’s mouth as he tries to kiss Adam through it.

“Fucking,” Tommy says the second he’s got the breath, “fucking, made me, on your motherfucking dick.”

Adam’s right there with him, talking over and through Tommy’s words, “Tommy, oh my god,” fingers digging bruises into Tommy’s sides, “fuck, Tommy, you,” trembling as his hips jerk weakly, still buried to the balls in Tommy’s ass. He moans like he’s dying, like it’s so good and so terrible that it’s gonna fucking kill him whether he stops or not. Sprawled out on top of him, Tommy goes as loose and boneless as he’s gonna get with that hot, sore ache creeping up between his legs and into his stomach, burning through all the air in his chest. He barely notices when Adam shudders and goes still again, can’t tell if that was another shot he took or Adam finally giving up. Without the shaking movement, though, all he can feel is how wrecked he is, he’s not gonna be able to even fucking walk.

“Please don’t move,” Adam groans. “Please, god, Tommy, give me a minute and I’ll let you up, promise, but I can’t, fuck.”

Planting a hand on Adam’s chest, Tommy says, “Hang on,” rocking up and off Adam’s cock as quickly as he can. If he could move at the speed of fucking light it still wouldn’t be fast enough, though. Adam’s choked whine hits the rafters, muffling the sound Tommy couldn’t hold back, and Adam goes completely limp, face slack and chest heaving.

“Sorry,” Tommy says, nosing a kiss under Adam’s jaw. “Just, you weren’t gonna feel any better long as I was on it.”

Adam grunts vaguely.

Biting at one lip doesn’t keep the grin off Tommy’s face. “Gonna pass out on me?”

“How are you even talking right now,” Adam wheezes, flopping a hand onto Tommy’s head, fingers twitching like he wants to pet at Tommy’s hair but can’t manage it.

Tommy shrugs. He’s pretty much just one big ache with the pot a low-grade buzz wound through it all. Curious, he twists back to gently feel around his hole, sucking in a sharp breath when his fingers touch hot swollen flesh. He’s absolutely trashed. “Did you come in me again?” he asks, shying away from finding out for himself.

Covering his face with one hand, Adam mumbles, “Dunno.”

“No way,” Tommy says, crawling up to carefully sit on Adam’s hips, no weight on Adam’s dick and even less on his ass. “No fucking way.”

“That was just, god, Tommy.” Adam drags his hand up over his face into his hair. Sweat keeps the strands clumped together after his hand falls. “I really don’t know. And you were already so wet.”

Adam’s voice breaking off on a dazed sound tugs Tommy’s grin wider. “Yeah?” Tommy says, reaching for Adam’s hand, pushing it down between his legs again. The weird, scary buzz under Tommy’s skin is no match for the way Adam’s eyes go wide when his fingers press lightly against Tommy’s asshole, sink inside a fraction without hardly any pressure at all. It hurts, sharp, stinging. Way more important than that is the totally floored expression on Adam’s face. “Wanna see how wet?”

Groaning a curse, Adam tentatively pushes deeper, wide-eyed gaze glued to Tommy’s. He groans again, pitiful-sounding, when Tommy says, “Yeah, c’mon, go for it,” stuttering only a little when Adam’s fingers crook, “bet you did it twice, filled me up so fucking good, gonna be dripping down my legs by the time we walk outta here.”

“Your dirty fucking mouth,” Adam says, tilting Tommy’s face up to kiss it.

Their lips barely touch before a loud bang echoes through the church. Tommy jolts up, swearing, and Adam freezes, deer-in-headlights terrified. Softer thumps follow, slow searching footsteps. Swinging off Adam, Tommy tries to shove him up to his feet, letting loose with another blistering string when Adam only stares at him.

“I’m fucking naked,” Tommy hisses, heart in his throat. If he gets caught, whatever, wouldn’t be the first fucking time he’s had a run in with authority. But Adam, Adam’s a fucking good guy, and he doesn’t deserve any of the shit he’ll get in. “Not worth both of us going down, so you gotta go. Fuck, Adam.” Stumbling to his feet, he hauls Adam up, shoves him towards the side door they broke in through. “Fucking minor anyway, not like they’re gonna lock me up. I’ll give ‘em some bullshit story, just, fuck, you gotta get outta here.”

“But,” Adam says, stumbling, grabbing at the door, “but, I’m not gonna–”

“Fuck and run, babyboy,” Tommy says with a vicious grin. He plants a wet, smacking kiss to Adam’s mouth, ignoring the way his legs are shaking, barely holding him up, the sick, vulnerable twist in his gut. Yanking Adam’s hand off the door, he hauls it open, gives him a hard push through it. “Make it worth your while if you don’t get caught.”

“Fuck you,” Adam hisses, one hand fisted in his jeans to keep them up, fear bright in his eyes, “fuck you so much, Tommy Joe,” and he dives in for another kiss, desperate clack of teeth before Tommy can get the door shoved closed in his face.

Sinking down, watching the slow bob of a flashlight by the other set of confessionals on the far side of the church, Tommy chokes on a hiccuping laugh. All he has to do is keep his mouth shut. Nobody can call him a liar if he doesn’t say a fucking word. Nobody’ll know for sure what the hell he got up to in here. It’s almost a shame. Chances are pretty good they’ll kick him out of school so fast if he tells them he got fucked up the ass by a boy at the foot of of an altar. Especially if he tells them how much he fucking loved it.

Shivering in the cold without Adam to keep warm, Tommy waits for whoever the fuck that is over there to find him. If he gave a shit, he’d feel bad for the slow curl of satisfaction in his blood imagining the shock and horror that’s gonna be on their face once they do.

He slaps a hand over his mouth to hold back another crazy giggle.

*

U okay?

U didn’t get arrested, did u?

Txt me back u fucking shit.

God tommy i mean it. I hope ur not in jail.

Tommy?

Tommy’s thumb hovers over Adam’s name in his contacts list. It’s Sunday. He’s not at service. He’s pretty sure he’s never going to service again. His parents tried to drag him along. They threatened to ground him, take away his phone, his freedom, played every sympathy card in the deck. He’s never cared about what they want for him. Maybe he would if they’d quit trying to shove Jesus down his fucking throat.

Two rings in, Adam answers breathlessly. “Tommy?”

“Hey,” Tommy says quietly. He hasn’t missed a single Sunday service in his entire life.

“Are you okay? Why didn’t you call me? What happened?”

Tommy smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. He’s probably insane. “Chill. I’m good. I’m really fucking awesome.”

“Please tell me what happened,” Adam says, desperate. “I thought, when you didn’t text–”

“Sorry. Was busy telling everybody to go fuck themselves.”

Adam sucks in a hissing breath. “Did you get caught?”

Gnawing on the inside of his lip doesn’t stop a laugh from bubbling up. “No. No, he just, fuck. Worst fucking night watchman ever. Walked right past me, didn’t see a fucking thing.”

“But– Oh my god.” A heavy thump echoes through the line. “God. I left you.”

“Dude, it’s okay. I told you to go.”

“But–”

“Seriously. Fucking relax.” Kicking some junk off the end of his bed, Tommy flops back, eyes closed. “I got busted sneaking back into the house.”

“Shit. Are you–”

“Could you like shut up for a minute and lemme get all this out?”

“Sorry,” Adam grumbles. “Excuse me for being worried about you.”

“Aw,” Tommy says, aiming for teasing, but the genuine warmth in his belly seeps through. “Not like it hasn’t happened before. First time they caught me looking so totally trashed, though.” Adam makes a vague go-on, I’m-listening noise, and Tommy rolls over onto his stomach, cheek pillowed on his arm. “So like, they know something’s up, but I didn’t tell them shit. Headmaster called ‘em about the whole suspended thing, too. I think I actually fucking scared ‘em this time. Like maybe got something through their thick skulls.”

“You don’t sound too worried,” Adam says doubtfully.

“‘Cause I’m not. Can’t do anything worse to me than they’ve done for the last fucking sixteen years of my life.”

“So you’re not grounded?” Adam asks. “You can come out?”

“Yeah,” Tommy drawls, rolling off the edge of the bed to grab a hoodie. “That grounding shit doesn’t really work if nobody’s around to enforce it. Where d’you wanna meet?”

“Are you sure?” There’s a rustle of something on the other end, the sound of a door closing. “You’re not gonna get in even more trouble?”

Tommy snorts. “Like I care. Tell me where you’re at, babyboy.”

A second’s hesitation, then Adam says, “Fourth and Waibane. There’s a diner there, kinda cheesy 80s place?”

Already thumping down the stairs, patting his pockets for bus fare, Tommy says, “Yeah, yeah, I know it. Think I can get there in about a half hour.”

“Okay.” Adam drags in a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll see you then. I’m glad you’re not in prison.”

“Ain’t nobody’s bitch,” Tommy says, grinning into the sun. It’s bright, warm on his skin, but doesn’t feel half as good as Adam’s laugh ringing in his ear.

The bus ride takes forever. It fucking sucks, too, because the seats are made out of solid rock and his ass isn’t totally over the beating it got the other night at Adam’s hands. Thinking about Adam’s hands, and the awesome things he does with them, makes it a hell of a lot more bearable. Thinking about Adam period makes entire chunks of Tommy’s life easier to get through. He’s been trying not to dwell on that part too much. That’s not what they’re doing here.

Adam’s outside Katy K’s diner waiting, looking like some sort of rock star in a pair of aviators, dark wash jeans hugging his mile-long legs, and a vintage concert tee. He pushes off the wall when he spots Tommy hopping down from the bus, feeling kind of grungy in battered old jeans and a hoodie. At least he’d had a stub of eyeliner and some gloss in his pocket.

“Hey,” Adam says, fingers hooked on the hinge of Tommy’s jaw. He searches Tommy’s face, thumb sliding up to smudge at the corner of his eye. “You’re really okay.”

“Told you I was.” Tommy loops his arms around Adam’s neck, up on his toes to invite a kiss right here on the sidewalk. “And like, sorry I worried you and shit.”

“I was thinking about posting bail,” Adam says, sly quirk to his mouth. “As if I could afford it. I can barely afford you.”

Tommy sinks back down onto his feet. “Yeah. Um. About that.”

“I know,” Adam says, taking Tommy by the hand as he steps back. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t forget I owe you. C’mon.”

That’s not really where Tommy had been going, but Adam’s not giving him a chance, tugging him through the parking lot and into another. “C’mon where?”

“Just c’mon,” Adam says, smiling like he’s getting a kick out of being the one dragging Tommy’s confused ass around for a change.

Tommy doesn’t stay confused for long. Behind Katy K’s kitschy diner is an old block motel complete with faded, chipped paint and a half-busted neon sign. Adam beelines for the entrance, glides right on past the front desk with the guy who barely gives them a second glance after Adam flashes the key hanging from a cheap plastic fob. “Holy shit,” Tommy says, staring at the boring, beat-up brown hallway Adam drags him into, the brassy 17 nailed onto the door where Adam stops. “You rented a fucking room?”

“Damn right I did.” Refusing to drop Tommy’s hand, Adam jams the key into the lock and gives it a rough turn. Inside is as cheap and generic as the rest of the place, a single dresser with a clunky, old television, plain threadbare curtains drawn across the window, and a flat, ugly bed that looks uncomfortable as all hell. There’s a bathroom off to the side somewhere. Tommy seriously couldn’t care less about what the fucking place looks like, and at the same time, he’s trying to fix it in his memory for-fucking-ever. Adam rented them a goddamn room.

Shutting the door, locking it from the inside, Adam goes to set his sunglasses on the dresser, a handful of bills beside them. Tommy can’t tell for sure, but it looks like it’s close to sixty. Maybe more.

“For last night,” Adam says, and smooths out another crumple of bills out on top of the first. “And today.”

“I,” Tommy says, throat sticking, “I said don’t worry about last night.”

“That was before I fucked you.” Leaving his hand on top of the money, Adam drags his gaze up, pins Tommy to the floor with the weight in it. “And definitely before I knew it was your first time.”

Tommy busts out a nervous laugh. “Dude, no way. I’ve been fuckin’ hooking for almost a year.”

“Please don’t lie to me,” Adam says softly.

“I–”

“Please.”

Yanking hair back from his face, Tommy blows out a frustrated breath. “Fine. Whatever. What the hell d’you want me to say?”

“I hurt you, didn’t I?” Adam says, and Tommy barely chokes back an angry growl. He’s not here for some fucking pity party. And from fucking Adam, of all people. “Tell me the truth. You’re still sore.”

“So what if I am?” Tommy says, kicking off his boots to drop onto the bed, on his back with both arms tucked beneath his head. “You already put down the cash. You wanna go at me again, you fucking go right ahead.”

“You’d let me, wouldn’t you.” Adam moves to the foot of the bed, stands there to watch Tommy’s face. “A year trading sex for money and you’ve never once let somebody do that to you, and now you’re ready to let me fuck you when you’re already hurting.”

Tommy shrugs. It’s no big deal. He hadn’t wanted to before. Now he does. “Whatever.”

“It’s not fucking whatever,” Adam snaps. “And I’m not fucking you.”

Shoving up on one hand, Tommy snaps right back, “So what the fuck did you drag me out here if you’re not gonna?”

“You’re fucking me.” When Tommy’s mouth falls open, pure shock stealing his voice, Adam smiles grimly. “That’s how this works, Tommy Joe. I pay you to do what I want. I want you to fuck me.”

“Think you got it backwards, sweetheart,” Tommy says, trying to stamp down the excited jerk in his belly. “You pay to stick it to the whore, not for the whore to stick it to you.”

“It’s my money,” Adam repeats, grabbing at Tommy’s knee when he goes to sit up, shoving it out of the way for him to kneel on the bed, put a hand to Tommy’s shoulder to keep him from struggling up again. “What if I didn’t pay you?”

“Fuck you,” Tommy grunts, planting both feet to try and buck Adam off.

“Stop it, Tommy,” Adam snaps, heel of his hand digging harder into Tommy’s shoulder, “I said stop it, fuck,” and his other hand comes up, slapped hard to Tommy’s throat before either of them can blink. A bright shot of something seriously fucked up shoots down Tommy’s spine, fizzles and sparks in his gut. Adam doesn’t notice, tightening his grip on Tommy’s neck slightly. Or he does, and he really, really likes the way Tommy’s gone still beneath him, dazed. “Forget the money. Fuck me because you want to.”

Tommy squeezes his eyes shut on a groan. He’s never done any of this before. He’s gotten by just fine on his mouth, on the dicks jammed into it and the filthy shit that comes out of it. Everybody wants to be the first one to stick it in, but nobody wants a boy off the streets that doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing once they’ve ponied up the cash. It’s never really been about the fucking, anyway. It’s definitely never been about whoever the fuck is paying him.

“Please,” Adam says, moving the hand off Tommy’s shoulder to stroke his face, trace the sharp angle of one cheekbone to the slant of his nose, down to his mouth. “I don’t care if you take the cash or not. It was so amazing being inside you. Let me give you that, I want to know what it’s like.”

“You total fucking bleeding heart,” Tommy says, opening his eyes to find that heart bright in Adam’s, hope and a smile waiting to break through. “Fucking horny, crazy-ass bleeding heart.”

“I won’t force you into it,” Adam says, settling back so he’s straddling Tommy’s thighs, “but don’t think I’ll take a bullshit excuse for an answer, either. Yes or no, Tommy.”

“Fuck you,” Tommy says, making a clumsy grab for the front of Adam’s shirt, yanking him back down, “seriously fuck you, Lambert, like really fucking fuck you, shut up talking already.”

“Not an answer,” Adam mumbles, mouth mushed awkwardly to Tommy’s.

“Yes, okay,” Tommy says, squirming around trying to get Adam closer to his dick, prove the best way he knows how much he wants this. “Yes, fuck, you looked fucking incredible giving it to me, wanna see you take it.”

“I want it slow,” Adam warns, wrenching another miserable sound out of Tommy’s chest when he pulls back again, skins his shirt off up over his head with one hand. “Go easy on me. Take care of me like you did in the alley.”

“Jesus. Fuck.” Almost choking on his own tongue, Tommy fits his hands to Adam’s bare sides, runs them up slowly, really fucking slowly, taking in the broad, solid shape of him, the tiny, imperfect raindrop-freckles sprinkled all over his skin. “I will. Fuck, Adam, you’re so fucking amazing. I promise I will.”

Better than the sun hitting the horizon, Adam finally smiles for him. Nervous and excited, shy and eager, exactly the same as when Adam first walked up, asked with nerves and courage fisted in both hands for what he wanted, and Tommy hadn’t been able to say anything except yes, fuck yes, he’d take such good care of Adam. He didn’t even want the money then, just the chance to bask a little longer.

“Wait,” Tommy says when Adam moves to settle down again, jeans unbuttoned but clinging to his hips. “I want, can you, on your back?”

One of Adam’s eyebrows wings up. “Think I was on my back last time.”

“Yeah, but, I didn’t get to see you.” Tommy scoots up, squishing the pillows against the headboard. “Or like stay there, that works, I just really wanna see you naked.”

Adam huffs out a laugh, pleased, and shuffles his jeans down over his hips, every sharp angle, the thick curve of his cock, the muscles flexing in his thighs clear in the bright overhead light. After kicking his clothes off, he spreads his knees a bit, braced for the rocking of the mattress when Tommy scrambles up, babbles, “No, nope, I fucking lied, not good enough,” hands on Adam’s shoulder to push him down. Adam falls back easily, a lot like he totally expected it, and stretches his legs out, one hand resting on his belly and the other folded beneath his head for a pillow. He silently arches both eyebrows.

“Shut up,” Tommy says, rocking back on his heels. “Holy fuck.”

“Lube’s in my jeans,” Adam says, dragging one knee up to show off the heavy weight of his sac, the soft dark space between his legs. The longer Tommy just sits there, staring at him, the deeper the flush on his chest gets, the further up his neck it crawls.

Tommy flashes him a grin and fishes out the small bottle. “Still a fucking boy scout.”

“Good thing one of us is,” Adam says. “I’m surprised you stopped long enough to put on pants before you left the house.”

“Already had ‘em on. And like, talking about pants.” Trailing off, Tommy unzips his hoodie, gives it a careless toss aside. His shirt follows, then his jeans, shorts, the whole fucking works until he’s as naked as Adam is. Both of them totally naked, finally, somewhere without shadows to get in the way, or the risk of somebody walking in on them, catching them up to shit their parents and teachers and everybody in the whole fucking world would probably have a fit over. Tommy loves it. He really seriously fucking loves it.

“God, c’mere,” Adam says, and Tommy happily clambers on up, gets a hand on Adam’s cock before Adam’s tongue is in his mouth. He tries jacking it a couple times, uncoordinated as hell with Adam kissing him like that, with Adam spreading his goddamn legs so Tommy settles between them, hips rocking up to invite Tommy’s hand sliding on down. When Tommy’s fingers curve into the crack of his ass, light pressure against his hole, his breath hitches.

“Still into it?” Tommy asks, rubbing in slow, gentle circles.

Adam nods, lip caught between his teeth, and nods again when Tommy reaches for the lube, slicks up a couple fingers like a question. When Tommy gets wet fingers back on him, he says, “Oh wow, yes, still into it. I said take it easy on me, not torture me.”

“Always rushin’ me.” Settling back to push at Adam’s thigh, Tommy nearly bites through his damn lip when Adam lifts his leg without hesitation, opening up enough for Tommy to see what he’s doing instead of only feel. Somehow, he figures he’s gonna have to work for it when he starts pushing into Adam’s body, so the sinfully easy give knocks him for a total loop. He’s stuck staring like an idiot when his knuckles press to Adam’s ass, middle finger buried all the way in soft heat, and he can fucking feel it when Adam breathes in deep, muscle tensing then relaxing as he breathes out again nice and slow.

Pretty soon Tommy’s going to feel that on his dick.

“I know,” Adam says, smile shaky at the corners as Tommy draws back, fingers him a little to feel more of that clench-release. “I thought– It felt like I was gonna die.”

“Kinda felt like that sitting on it,” Tommy admits, leaning up to get Adam kissing him again. He’s not gonna last any time at all if they’re fucking talking about it while they’re doing it. All he wants to do is get his cock in Adam’s ass right the fuck now. He wants it even worse when Adam’s hips rock, luring Tommy into a slow steady rhythm to open him up, and Adam’s making all these noises, soft, quiet ones spilling into Tommy’s mouth, sounds like he’s happy, fucking delighted he’s getting what he wants. Tommy fumbles for the lube again, adding more to his fingers, thinking about maybe slicking up his dick now but not willing to risk blowing it too soon. Adam wants to get done sweet and easy, he’s gonna fucking get done sweet and easy.

Grabbing at one of the pillows, Tommy nudges it up against Adam’s hip. “Roll over for me?”

“What?” Adam says, eyelashes fluttering as Tommy’s fingers slip free. “I, yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Tommy can’t help touching as Adam settles onto his belly, pillow tucked under his hips and one knee hitched up on the rumpled blankets. Nowhere in particular, the bend of Adam’s knee, the small of his back, the inside of his thigh and the soft, high curve of his ass. When Tommy’s fingers slip into the cleft again, into Adam, he rises up on his knees, kisses the places he didn’t touch, the sharp wing of Adam’s shoulder blade, the back of his neck when his head bows. The heavy thud of Adam’s heart echos through his back, into Tommy’s chest.

“I haven’t,” Tommy starts, and swallows hard, his cock settled right beside his fingers, almost as wet with precome as Adam’s ass is with lube. “I run my mouth a lot. Picked up a lot of shit. But I didn’t, I never did most of it.”

“I know,” Adam says, head still down. “Baby, I know.”

“But don’t like, don’t fucking think you did something I didn’t want. Don’t think I don’t seriously fucking love that I can still feel it, okay?” When Adam doesn’t say anything, Tommy bites at his back, prompts a quiet grunt. “I fucking mean it. You drove me crazy. Absolutely fucking insane. Felt so good you didn’t even have to touch me.”

“God,” Adam says, muffled and miserable into the pillow, “please, I get it. And if you don’t show me right now what it’s like, I’ll come all over this pillow before you get a chance.”

Groaning, Tommy leans a fraction to the side braced on the palm of one hand, trying to steady his cock with the other. He’s shaking so much he’s not sure how he manages it, but he gets the head of his cock, looking big and way too much to take, wedged against Adam’s hole shiny wet and small and delicate. He wets his lips, scrapes them dry with his teeth. “Gonna go slow,” Tommy says, tail end of it squeezed to nothing as he pushes a bit, feels resistance then give, then resistance again. He eases off slightly, thinking about reaching for the lube again, fingering Adam looser. “Fuck, I– Fuck, you’re really tight, just, hang on.”

“No,” Adam blurts, and twists around too fast, making a grab for Tommy and ending up dislodging Tommy’s cock anyway. “No, fuck, that was good. It was good. God, put it back.”

“But–”

“Please don’t fucking argue with me.” Hitching his hips up off the pillow, Adam reaches between his legs, angles his cock down so Tommy can see how wet he is, precome stringing thick from the tip. “I really want you to do exactly what you were doing, oh my god, come on.”

“Jesus,” Tommy says, “Jesus, okay, alright, I just–” and he doesn’t get to say whatever the hell he was gonna, can’t even fucking remember it the second his cock’s back at Adam’s asshole, pushing in this time past tight, clenching muscle, heat sparking all along Tommy’s skin like somebody’s stuck a whole book of matches alight on him. He can’t even fucking breathe through how good it is, so good it almost hurts, and Adam’s face is scrunched up like it’s hurting him too in exactly the same way, a handful of perfect, endless seconds ticking by and then Tommy’s in, in him all the way, buried to the balls and heart in his throat.

“Move,” Adam gasps, twisting up a handful of sheets as he tries to rock back, “god, move, oh my god, you should’ve fucking told me.”

Tommy grabs onto Adam’s hips, shoving him down to hold him still. If he moves, Tommy’s gonna come. If Tommy comes, he’s not gonna be able to make this as good as Adam deserves it, and there is no fucking way in hell he’s letting that happen. “Feel good?” he asks, distracting himself from the tight heat cradling him by getting a hand on Adam’s cock, pushing it back up so it’s pressed between the pillow and Adam’s belly again. “So fucking full, right? Like, nothing else fucking like it, and you want it out but you want it in deeper too, all the fucking way, wanna fucking choke on it.”

“Please, oh fuck, please.” Adam groans weakly, struggling against all of Tommy’s weight braced against his back. “Tommy, please.”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, trying to brace for the slow slide out, trying and failing in a seriously fucking stellar way. There’s no way in hell he’d ever be ready for that, rough slow drag curling his fucking toes, no way he’s ready for the shove back in, either, or the sound Adam makes when he bottoms out, ragged and shocked. He goes for it again, just as slow as the first time around even though it feels like he’s killing himself in pieces, and Adam makes more noises for him, beautiful, gorgeous noises, shaking with genuine pleasure the same way Adam’s shaking, trembling beneath him, filling the entire room as Tommy fills him up again and again and again.

Sweat shines on Adam’s skin, beads on Tommy’s upper lip, prickles at his hairline. Panting hard, he wipes his mouth on his shoulder, doesn’t want for one second to look away from where he’s sinking into Adam, but his gaze catches on the sliver of Adam’s face not hidden by the pillow, eyes clenched tightly shut and mouth slack. Before he knows it, he’s fucking harder, jolting louder sounds out of Adam’s throat, closer to shouts now, his name and please and fuck, and Tommy wants more of it, wants it all, wants to drench this dingy room in the smell of sex, breathe it all in until he’s drowning in Adam on the inside the way he feels on the outside. Dropping down, he presses his face between the bunch of Adam’s shoulder blades. He bites at Adam’s skin, digs his nails into it, tries to do everything he can to keep from losing it before Adam’s had enough.

It takes him way longer than it should to realise the noises he’s hearing now are words, Adam saying it’s okay, calling him baby, voice hitching, do it, baby, just fucking do it, please, wanna, let me. Tommy hasn’t got a single fucking hope in the entire universe at holding on a second longer, not when Adam’s fucking begging him to come. Between one heartbeat and the next, he’s gone, coming hard, torn down like he’s made of paper. He collapses on top of Adam, unable to hold himself up for a minute longer, probably not ever going to be able to lift his fucking arms ever again.

“No, god,” Adam rasps, “don’t, fuck, don’t stop,” bucking his hips, desperately trying to get the friction back.

“Fuck, fuck.” Struggling up, Tommy ends up listing more to the side than anything. He tries to shake the buzz off, can’t manage, and shuffles back instead, the hiss of his breath lost beneath Adam’s miserable groan when his dick slips out. “Sorry, fuck,” Tommy says, dropping down beside Adam, mouthing at Adam’s hip as he shoves an arm under one of Adam’s thighs, gets his fingers sinking fast and hard back inside, thick pressure for Adam to clench up on when Tommy’s attempt at fingering him turns sloppy. “Put your dick in my mouth, c’mon, roll over, fuck it for me.”

“Shit,” Adam says, shivering as he climbs up onto hands and knees, as he straddles Tommy’s shoulders, cock dragging over Tommy’s lips instead of pushing between, “god, Tommy, what– Oh my god,” when he fumbles his dick again, finally fucks into Tommy’s open mouth, shaky and tentative like he’s afraid he’s gonna choke Tommy on it. All it takes is a moan and a few fingers crooked against that fucking awesome spot inside him to toss that idea out the motherfucking window, and then Adam’s fucking him, cock bumping the back of his throat, close to cutting off his air and so fucking perfect his dick jerks, tries to squeeze another fucking shot out of him. Right before Adam loses it, he shoves Adam up, sucks hard with his tongue pressed to the slit so he can taste it flooding his mouth. Adam keeps trying to push back in, totally gone on pleasure he’s not even thinking anymore. Tommy’s not thinking anymore either, because he lets go, lets Adam drive straight in, the come he hasn’t yet swallowed spilling out and down over his jaw to stain the bedspread, thick and hot and wet. He doesn’t get a chance to breathe before Adam is scooting back, flopping right down on top of him and kissing him through the mess, so much bare skin that Tommy wraps his arms around Adam, his fucking legs, trying to get more of it pressed close.

“You,” Adam says, hands buried in Tommy’s hair, licking deep into his mouth, sucking on Tommy’s tongue like he doesn’t care about his jizz all over the place, like he likes it. Wants more of it. “You, fuck, Tommy. Tommy.”

“Yeah?” Tommy says, grinning, ruining Adam’s kisses so Adam licks at his throat instead, nibbles and sucks, totally fucking distracted. Tommy jostles him with a shoulder. “Yeah, me, what?”

“Don’t take the money.” Looking away, back, Adam quickly squeezes his eyes shut. When he opens them again, they’re wide, vulnerable, this look in them that’s pretty fucking scary and amazing and Tommy can’t move, can’t breathe. “Please don’t take it. I said I needed it for a friend, and I did, I had to see you, but I don’t want you here because I’m paying you. I want you here for me.”

Tommy croaks, “Okay.”

“I mean it. I know it’s stupid, and cliché, and you’re not Julia fucking Roberts. You’re not even much of a hooker if we’re being honest here,” Adam rambles on, one arm shoved beneath Tommy to hold him tighter, almost cracking his fucking ribs. “You’re incredible. Beautiful and genuine and I want to, I want to–” Adam’s brow crinkles. “What did you say?”

“I said okay,” Tommy wheezes.

“Okay-okay?” Adam asks. “Okay as in yes?”

Tommy nods frantically. He actually can’t fucking breathe now, for fucking real.

“Sorry!” Adam blurts, scrambling up. “Oh my god, are you alright?”

Sucking in sweet, precious air, Tommy’s willing to give up a scrap of it to say, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fucking okay. Jesus, like I gave a shit about the fucking money.”

“What?” Adam asks. He opens his mouth, shuts it again. “What?”

“I wasn’t fucking around with you because you were fucking paying me, Jesus Christ. I really fucking like you. And just, fuck. I was trying to tell you to forget the money, and you kept shoving it at me. Fuck, Adam, fuck.”

“But you–” Adam stops, blinks dumbly. “You kept sucking my dick every five minutes.”

“Because I fucking wanted to! You’re hot and fucking adorable and seriously, man, what the fuck, were you actually fucking thinking I wouldn’t want to unless you paid me?” When Adam doesn’t say anything, flushing guiltily, Tommy punches him in the shoulder. “Where the fuck were you when they were reading out the rules to being a horny teenager?”

“Probably in the bathroom,” Adam says, the start of a smile creeping in. “Doing my hair. You’re not fucking around, are you? I mean, you mean it. About wanting to be with me?”

“Yes, fuck, I mean it. Try fucking prying me off with a crowbar, see how far you get.” He punches Adam in the shoulder one last time for emphasis. “You total fucking dumbass.”

Adam breaks out into a wide, joyous grin, so dazzling Tommy blinks on reflex, expecting spots in his eyes. “Call me all the names you want, I don’t care. You like me.”

“I like you a lot,” Tommy says, in case Adam somehow missed that one.

“You like me a lot,” Adam echoes. “So, about the money.”

Tommy figured they were done with the money. “What about it?”

“This place charges by the hour.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Tommy glances down at the bed. He’s kinda glad they didn’t take the time to strip back the covers. “Gimme five minutes? I can probably walk in five.”

Head tilting sideways with the weight of his smile, Adam says, “There’s a place a few blocks north that’s pretty decent, and even has a nightly going rate.”

“That’s not gonna get you in shit?”

“I told my mom I’m sleeping over at a friend’s house,” Adam says, his smile somehow getting brighter, wider, fucking neon-electric. “Danielle’ll cover for me.”

“Fuck.” Pushing at Adam, trying to scramble up, Tommy gets absolutely nowhere fast. “Fuck, come on, get up. Put your fucking clothes on, we gotta go.”

“Get your fucking clothes off, put your fucking clothes on,” Adam says, laughing, not letting him up, the fucker. “You’re kind of demanding, Tommy Joe.”

“You seriously have no fucking idea.” Since Adam’s not planning on letting go any time soon, Tommy hooks an ankle around his calf, plants the other foot solidly on the trashed bed and bucks up, lets him feel the mess sticky on Tommy’s cock. “How long you think we’ve been here?”

“I don’t– half an hour, maybe?” Adam says, distracted, and then, “Oh. Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Tommy wriggles a little further south. “Got some time to kill, babyboy.”

“Oh god,” Adam says, sweet, awed and eager, “god, okay.” And then he’s not saying anything at all.

End

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