Adam Lambert/Tommy Joe Ratliff. AU. Xeno. NC-17. ~2500 words. Timestamp to Stranger Things Never Changed My Mind.
There’s a heaviness in Adam’s limbs that makes this feel like a dream, heat-hazy and unreal. As unreal as the soft click of claws on tile. His eyes slip shut as he smiles. “I was wondering when you’d find me.”
At three in the morning, the only noise is the quiet hum of jets foaming the water. Adam tips his head back to watch shadows play on the ceiling soft and soothing, dappled with flashes of light from deep in the pool. There’s a heaviness in his limbs that makes this feel like a dream, heat-hazy and unreal.
As unreal as the soft click of claws on tile. Adam’s eyes slip shut as he smiles. “I was wondering when you’d find me.”
“Not like it’s hard,” Tommy says, cool rasp of his voice sending a shiver rippling up Adam’s spine. A chill like stepping from the sunlight into shade presses close as Tommy leans out over the water. “You’re a fish.”
Adam opens his eyes to find Tommy’s wide and glowing brightly in the twilight. Claws hover tentatively above the water’s surface, fingers outstretched as if Tommy’s heating his hands over a fire. “Getting in?”
“It looks so warm,” Tommy says, startling with a hiss as Adam reaches up out of the water to grasp his wrist. He shudders, a delighted noise slipping out of him as he drops deeper into his crouch to nuzzle at the back of Adam’s hand.
Biting his lip to stifle a giggle, Adam yanks him down into the water.
A screech ricochets off the walls, ends in a gasp as Tommy’s head goes under. He scrabbles at the walls of the hot tub, at Adam’s arm, claws scoring skin as he twists fitfully against Adam’s grip steadying him, cushioning him from the fall. He bursts to the surface gulping air, slight body buffeted by the jets, fighting against them until he realises they’re the source of the heat. His elbow grazes Adam’s thigh as he sinks back down, his moan echoing off the tiles almost as loud as his scream had.
“S’fighting dirty,” he says, tilting his head back against Adam’s arm, spiderweb hair clinging wetly to skin. Sitting sideways on the seat, he sinks down even deeper, water lapping at his chin, his eyes tiny slits of bliss.
Adam hooks an arm around his waist to haul him closer, slick bare skin warmed by the water sliding over his thighs. “If you weren’t napping, I’d have invited you along.”
“Napping is awesome,” Tommy confides, his eyes finally slipping shut. Despite how often he drifts off, sleep is one of those things Tommy doesn’t need. Food is another one, and something he doesn’t touch. Oxygen appears to be the only thing that keeps him alive. Oxygen, and sometimes it seems, Adam’s touch. “This is better.”
Making sure his grip is solid, Adam scoots about a dozen inches to the left, dragging Tommy directly into the path of the jet that had been happily pounding the knots out of his back. Tommy jolts upright with a panicked shrill, flailing for a grip on the edge of the tub. “Easy,” Adam says, reaching for the controls to dial it down to a softer churn.
In the middle of hauling himself up out of the water, Tommy goes still. With another happy shiver, he settles back down, half on his side, half in Adam’s lap. “Holy shit,” he says, claws digging into the concrete between Adam’s legs as he rocks up, the jet bubbling where it hits his back, then his ass. “Holy shit.”
The pool is closed. The angle of the hot tub to the row of glass separating the pool room from the rest of the hotel means someone’s got to be looking hard in their direction to see them. The hotel staff won’t intrude until he lets them know he’s done. But this isn’t private. There’s no good reason for Adam to let his hand slide down Tommy’s smooth back to cup between his legs, press hard with his fingers. No good reason not to, either, especially with the way Tommy’s eyes flash wide, his body going so loose Adam has to grab at him to keep him from slipping under. “Better?” Adam asks, grinning at the answer written clearly on Tommy’s face.
With a soft rasp, Tommy twists around to seize the edge of the tub and struggle up to his knees, the jet on his belly, lower. Spreading his legs as wide as he can, he slings his arms over the ledge and arches his back to invite Adam’s fingertips sliding up the inside of his thigh to rub between the cheeks of his ass. Tommy’s gotten pretty fixated these last few days with Adam touching him there, riding him, even more than he seems to want Adam’s cock in his face. As much as Adam loves giving Tommy what he wants, Adam can’t help feeling between his legs instead, Tommy’s skin slippery wet and smoother than polished marble but so warm, giving softly beneath gentle pressure. Claws scratch at tile as Tommy pushes forward searching for something firmer to rub against, and heart thudding hard against his ribs, Adam flattens his hand out, gives Tommy his palm to ride.
“So fucking good,” Tommy says, water streaking his skin glistening black, so different from dull, light-stealing matte. Cupping one hand in the water, Adam lifts it to stream down Tommy’s back, rubs it in until skin stutters dry. Shifting up on his knees to do it again, and again, Adam doesn’t notice Tommy reaching back until claws snag in his shorts.
“Tommy,” Adam warns, a wary glance flicked to the bank of windows.
“No one’s there to see, c’mon,” Tommy says, tugging harder, soaked nylon slipping halfway down Adam’s hip. “Rub off on me, it’ll be so fucking good.”
Catching Tommy’s wrist, Adam pins it to the tile floor. Tommy’s groan builds low in his chest, reverberating through Adam’s before it spills free, rough and ragged, as Adam shifts behind him, presses in chest to back to trap him against the jet. A hard buck from Tommy nearly shoves Adam off the seat, Adam scrabbling for a handhold to stay close, push Tommy back firmly against the stream.
“Oh shit,” Tommy hisses, twisting away from it, his shoulders heaving, “shit, Adam, I want-”
Grinding against Tommy’s ass, Adam says, “I want to fuck you so bad,” shocking himself. Tommy groans, pushing back harder, not realising what Adam wishes he didn’t mean. Everything Tommy’s given him is amazing. Tommy is amazing. Wanting to change that, even for a second, for something he thinks he wants, makes his insides go cold.
Letting Tommy go, Adam rocks off the seat, shoves his shorts down past his knees. Before confusion has a chance to ruin the lust-dazed glow in Tommy’s eyes, Adam hauls him straight into his lap. “Fuck yeah,” Tommy says, wriggling around to get up on his knees again, scoot in close to catch Adam’s naked dick between their bellies, and noses at Adam’s neck, breathing deep. “Knew you would. Fuck, you smell so good, so fucking good.”
Adam can’t smell anything but water and chlorine. His hands slide from Tommy’s waist to hips, stomach jerking as Tommy rocks against him, his dick slip-sliding over slick, wet skin. Splaying a hand in the small of Tommy’s back, Adam tries to haul him in even tighter. There’s nothing in the world that feels the same as Tommy soaking wet. Soft and firm, warmed by the water, his skin’s perfectly, impossibly smooth, completely frictionless as Adam grinds against him. And as heart-stoppingly good all the times Tommy’s crawled into a shower with him were, they were nothing like this.
“Told you,” Tommy says, and nips sharply at Adam’s jaw. His arms stretch out, slipping over Adam’s shoulders. There’s a crunch-grate of tile and grout giving way beneath his claws as they dig in, anchoring him. “C’mon, do it harder, really fuck me.”
Adam’s breath stays caught in the clench of his throat as his palms skid down, fingers curving into the crack of Tommy’s ass, tips pressed firmly against smooth skin. He digs in harder, nails catching flesh; he wants to break it, find out of Tommy is the same shocking pink of his tongue on the inside, if Tommy even has an inside that’s more than black, smoky wisps. Tommy is solid and real in his hands right now, strange bony angles and the supple give of muscle, but Adam wants to know more, know everything, needs to discover if there’s a heart and lungs behind the cage of Tommy’s ribs.
“Shit,” Tommy hisses, breath cool on Adam’s throat. He rolls his head to the side, forehead on Adam’s shoulder, to bare the side of his neck, and gets as far as, “C’mon, do it,” before Adam bites down on the long stretch of wet skin, bites down hard and harder searching for tendons, ligaments, something other than muscles and bones that always feel slightly wrong shifting beneath his hands.
Tile shatters as Tommy rises up, pushes into the blunt edges of Adam’s teeth. Adam’s hold on Tommy’s ass slips, nails scratching, clawing, but not breaking skin. Caught up in Tommy’s moans echoing off the walls, the way he shivers and shakes, Adam isn’t thinking when he clamps down viciously on Tommy’s neck, flesh mounded between his teeth, skin straining and still not giving way. He digs in harder, tries to carve his way into Tommy’s body as if he’s the one with fangs and claws, and Tommy writhes for him, sucks in sharp, rasping breaths, but won’t–can’t–let him inside.
Tearing away, Adam snarls, “Fuck,” into Tommy’s shoulder, breathing so fast his chest aches.
“Don’t stop,” Tommy groans, arching against him, “don’t fucking stop, I need-”
When Tommy breaks off, Adam says, “What, tell me,” clutching at him, his waist so slim, body slender and delicate and yielding in Adam’s grip, but so strong, able to take anything, everything Adam wants, and always holding back. “Whatever it is, I don’t care, you can have it.”
But Tommy’s done talking, words dissolving into soft growls as he claws at the tile, water sloshing over the edge turning flakes and dust to paste. The steady, deliberate rock of his hips breaks down to a stuttering mess like he’s close, almost there, and Adam freezes, stunned. Tommy’s gotten worked up before, peaked and calmed again, but not like this. Never like Adam could really make him come.
The dig of razor-point teeth into Adam’s shoulder shocks a thin noise out of him. It sparks an answering hiss, the cool swipe of Tommy’s tongue over the sudden throb of heat. Tommy bit him. Actually fucking bit into him, and won’t stop moaning as he sniffs at the shallow wound, nuzzles at it, licks up the small bit of blood that seeps to the surface before it can trickle into the water. Sucking on the bite so hard it aches, Tommy shudders and goes still. Head swimming and vision blurry, Adam rubs his thumb over the bob of Tommy’s throat as he swallows greedily, tongue working lazily at broken skin.
“Fuck,” Tommy says, and pulls away, his mouth glistening wetly in the dim light. Scrubbing his mouth clean, he sniffs at his palm, licks it, rubs it over his belly like he’s smearing himself with Adam’s scent. The backs of his claws bump into Adam’s cock on the way down, and he grins, flips his hand over to pin it carefully to Adam’s belly. Hard, unforgiving claws and the scratch of Adam’s own body hair after all Tommy’s slippery smoothness is like the jolt of cold going from hot tub to pool, razing Adam’s nerves, prickling his skin. His head falls back as he grinds into Tommy’s hand, steam rising from his arms as he lifts them from the water, wraps them securely around Tommy’s back.
“Better this way,” Tommy says, voice dropped to a quiet growl, clawtips scoring delicate skin when he drags his hand free and curls it back over the tiled lip. He licks at Adam’s mouth, tasting faintly of water, of chemicals and blood. “Feels good, right? You like it.”
Adam says, “I love it,” trying to pull Tommy impossibly closer. There’s nothing but miles and miles of slick skin against his dick, all over him with Tommy curled in so tightly. He tries to keep it slower to kiss Tommy’s tiny, deadly mouth, tongue tracing the points of his teeth, the lush give of his lips, dip between to taste the strange, chill blankness inside him. With so much heat billowing around them, Tommy’s even cooler than usual, another shock to Adam’s battered system.
“You’re always gonna keep me,” Tommy says, arms looped around Adam’s neck, claws curled gently in the hair at his nape. “Gonna touch me, get off on me, take me everywhere, always gonna have me.”
All Adam can hear is Tommy’s sweet rasp, the grate of claws on tile, water sloshing everywhere, and his heart pounding so hard he’s sure Tommy can hear it too. His hands fall into the water desperately grasping at Tommy’s thighs as he arches up, all the heat building inside him coiling sharply down, centred for one bright, brilliant second before it shatters. The moan that bursts out of him gets choked off by Tommy’s hands skidding down his chest, fingers interlacing around his dick as he comes, claws held at a careful distance lightly scratching at his stomach.
Panting hard, Adam stares into the foamy water trying to see Tommy’s claws on his dick. All he can do is feel them still, thick and smooth as Tommy strokes them across his stomach, under his cock to graze his balls, sly smile curving his lips the entire time. Slumping back, Adam squeezes his eyes shut, the swirling jets soft counterpoint to the sharp tips of Tommy’s claws trailing along the insides of his bare thighs.
“Oh,” Adam says, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling. “Oh, shit. In the hot tub.”
Lip caught between his teeth, Tommy rasps a quiet, happy noise, and strokes his claws back up over Adam’s hips. “No more showers,” he says. “Baths all the time.”
“We can’t take baths all the time,” Adam says, hoping his legs start working again soon. He’s not sure how he’s going to explain to the very nice concierge that the hot tub needs to be drained. Or about the shattered tile. He’s never trashed a hotel room in his entire career. Left several in a bit of a mess, but nothing that couldn’t be easily cleaned, ruffled feathers smoothed by a nice letter and a sizeable tip.
“Most of the time,” Tommy says with a nip to Adam’s throat, and a huff when Adam gives him a lazy swat beneath the water. He arches his back in a sleepy stretch, then shifts around so he’s sitting sideways in Adam’s lap, swaying slightly with the churning water. “Next time you should bend me over and ride me.”
“God,” Adam says, body going lax in defeat. “If I have to.”
Tommy says, “Good,” and happily reaches down to cup Adam’s softened cock in one clawed hand. “I can wait ten minutes.”