First part written for binkleywtf, continuation for zoniduck, in two ontd_ai charity drives! ♥
The second the private jet got to thirty-five thousand feet, Adam's entourage—Kris wasn't sure if really it was an entourage anymore, it was getting to posse levels—were out of their seats and breaking out the recreational substances, starting with vodka and up through the baggies of pot—"purely medicinal," Adam's publicist announced—to a skittles-colored pile of pills in a bowl. On the other hand, they also broke out a mammoth box of brownies—yeah, that's what made Adam groan in protest—and stacks of barbeque and Kobe beef sliders still hot from Spago's, so it wasn't like there was cause for complaint.
Kris didn't even care about it; wasn't like he hadn't ever taken a few hits off a bong, it was just—it was like drawing a line, was the thing: the line everyone always wanted to draw, with him on one side and Adam on the other.
Cale and the guys got plates of barbeque and chatted some, but after a while the dance music got louder, and they mostly drifted to the bedroom suite in back. Yeah, Kris could have fought the current and stayed, but it wasn't his scene, and there were three really pretty boys all busy making up to Adam, anyway.
So he drifted to the back, too, and noodled on his guitar while they talked a little about the set, and then he thought about catching some sleep—still seventeen hours to Manila, freaking crazy. Adam's stuff had colonized the dresser in the one actual bedroom, but Kris figured he had equal rights to the mattress, so he took off his shoes and sprawled out, shutting his eyes and letting himself feel the hum of the engines, thirty thousand feet off the ground.
"Is this the quiet time corner?" Adam's bassist said, wandering in with a joint. He stuck it in his mouth while he clambered onto the bed and sprawled out casually next to Kris. "Hi, I'm Tommy," he added, yawning. "Are you Adam's or Kris's?"
"I—am Kris," Kris said.
"Ohhh," Tommy said, in a knowing way. "Adam's, then."
"Uh?" Kris said, half laughing, and then Adam poked his head in and said, "Hey!"
Tommy waved a hand, drawing smoke-scribbles in the air. "I found your boy! Want some?"
"Mm, yeah, give it," Adam said, and sat down on the bed and leaned over to take a drag from Tommy's hand. He sat up again to take off his boots, and crawled up the bed and squirmed himself in between, half on top of them, and tipped his head back smiling at Kris, squeezing his thigh with one warm hand. "You disappeared! Were we too loud? I know the entourage has gotten kind of out of control."
"Nah," Kris said, feeling stupidly happy, and put a hand in Adam's hair. Adam hummed and arched his head back into the stroking. Tommy gave him another drag, and Kris said, "Hey," and bent for one himself, drawing in the sweet, spicy smoke. He settled partway down the bed and relaxed into the pillows, drawing Adam's pliant head back against his shoulder.
Tommy squirmed next to him, taking off his belt and tossing it on the floor, and then he reached down to take off Adam's, too. "Here, baby," he said, and Adam drowsily lifted up his hips, making it easier. Kris went for Adam's shirt without thinking—some kind of possessive thing, like a kid trying to show off he was allowed to do that, too.
But by the time he'd figured that out, he had the shirt half up, Adam was raising his arms to let it get pulled off, and Tommy was working on getting Adam's jeans open. Adam laughed a little, breathlessly. The sound hit somewhere deep down, something Kris wanted, even before Tommy kissed Adam on the mouth, quick and affectionate, and slid down the bed to drag off his jeans.
Adam licked his lips and opened his eyes to look up at Kris, part-apology, part-question. Kris brushed his fingers against Adam's mouth, breathing hard for a moment, and then he bent down to kiss him.
It was easy. Too easy; it didn't feel like crossing a line. It was just Adam's mouth, warm and soft under his, his fingers smoothing over Adam's shoulder, and then Adam clinging on to him, hard, and making little noises into Kris's mouth while Tommy bit his thighs, kissed him, licked him, black shock of his head trailing over Adam's stomach. Kris pushed Adam down into the pillows and kissed him, harder, and put his hand down to touch, to feel, Tommy's tongue sliding over his fingers while they teased Adam hard together.
"Oh my God," Adam said, his hips rising up, helplessly. "Kris. Tommy."
Tommy giggled, lifting his head from Adam's—cock, that was Adam's cock wet and shiny from his mouth, and Adam sprawled wide and shivering under them. "I thought you were straight," Kris said.
"That doesn't mean I can't suck cock if I want to," Tommy said, and took another long lick up Adam's dick.
"Please want to?" Adam said, pathetically, and Tommy laughed and kissed his thigh and said, "Baby, you know you're beautiful. Do you want a turn?" he asked Kris, and Kris swallowed and slid down the bed, and okay, maybe Tommy had a point after all, because yeah, he really did want a turn at this, Adam's big, cut dick on his tongue, pushing into his mouth, and the way Adam moaned when Kris sucked him.
Tommy rolled off the bed and rummaged around in Adam's stuff while Kris kept working, figuring out how to get more of Adam's dick in his mouth, until Adam's hand was in his hair, tugging, and Adam was breathless, saying, "Not yet, Kris, please," a whine in his voice.
Kris let Adam's cock slide out of his mouth, heavy and wet, and he dropped his head on Adam's thigh and panted into it. Adam's hand stayed in his hair, rubbing gently, Adam's breath coming in gasps; he'd let his head fall back into the pillows, and his neck was one long beautiful curve, Tommy cuddled up to his side, mouthing along it, pink tip of his tongue out and licking at his jaw. Kris reached for the joint, drew in another long, slow hit of smoke and spice, his head pillowed on Adam's hip, turning his face a little to breathe it out and lick the salt off Adam's skin.
"Can I fuck you?" Tommy said, biting Adam's ear. "God, baby, can we—I want to just fucking go to town on you—"
Adam hummed at him, low and happy, and Kris shut his eyes a minute, thinking about it, and then he leaned over the edge of the bed and fumbled his belt out of the pile of clothes on the floor, blood rush to his head making him dizzy.
Adam said, "Oh my God, Kris! I can't even handle this," half-laughing, looking at him under his lashes, like he didn't completely believe in this while he held out his hands to be wrapped up. That was okay, Kris wasn't sure he believed in it either, in Adam's cock hard and jerking against his belly while Kris looped the belt around his wrists, not too tight, and buckled the loop around the bedpost, in the way Adam went with him, stretched out long and lean, arching up for Kris to kiss him.
"God, you're," Kris managed, mumbling between kisses, feeling stupid with want, with all of this, Adam's heartbeat under his hand, the soft prickle of his hair, the nipple hardening under his thumb. Adam laughed again, and then he sighed into Kris's mouth, shuddering a little.
Kris had to break away, because he wanted to see this, to watch Tommy working into him—between Adam's long legs and biting his own lip red, the black shock of his crazy bangs wobbling over his face but not enough to hide it, and the way Adam flinched and shivered and gasped for breath under Kris's hand.
Tommy moaned a little and said, "I'm, tell me, is—"
"Yes," Adam said, "yes, yes, come on," and Kris wrapped his hand around Adam's cock, felt it swell back up in his fingers while he stroked, while Tommy pushed in. Adam had his face turned towards Kris, panting for breath, his eyes closed, little frown on his forehead that Kris nuzzled at, helplessly. Tommy had Adam's legs pushed back, opening him up for it, and Kris wanted to kiss him for being able to just ask for this, like this was something you could actually have, instead of impossible to want.
It made him want to ask for more things, made him want to hear Adam say yes to him, too, and watch Adam's eyes go soft and unfocused under him. "Oh, baby," Adam murmured at him, and opened his mouth to kisses that Kris tried to keep from being too desperate, too hungry. He wasn't sure how well he was doing, but Adam was kissing back hard, biting at him, licking his tongue in urgently and sucking Kris's lower lip.
"Can I," Kris said, "Adam—can I—your mouth—" color creeping hot up his neck and his cheeks from how hoarse he sounded.
"Get up here right the fuck now," Adam said, and Kris braced himself on the wall behind the bed and straddled his chest, his own thighs spread wide enough to feel the burn of muscle ache, and put his cock on Adam's mouth; he didn't want to put it in right off, just let the head sit on Adam's wet, full lips, let Adam lick at him, sucking off the head, leaking on his tongue. Kris curled his hand around Adam's head and pushed in deeper, let his hips find a rhythm with Adam's breaths rising and falling under him. Adam closed his eyes as he sucked, his tongue curling over and nudging at the soft ridge.
Tommy tipped his forehead against Kris's back, panting. "I seriously think I'm going to die, this is too hot for words," he said, high and strained. "Can I come? You ready for it, baby?"
Kris eased himself out of Adam's mouth slow so he could watch, Adam's tongue licking at the tip one last time, and he had to fight hard to keep from just losing it when Adam said, "Yes, oh fuck am I," his voice thickened and low, and fuck, Kris wanted more of that, wanted to jump right over the line and throw himself in, if this was what he got to have.
"Wait," Kris said, hoarsely. "Wait, I want—can you—put him in—me," and Adam turned his face against Kris's thigh and pressed in and took a big love bite, sliding his teeth over the skin on a moan.
And thank God, Tommy didn't ask if he was sure, or if he wanted to change his mind, just nuzzled at the back of Kris's neck and kissed him like it was the easiest thing in the world and said, "Hang on, baby," and started slicking him.
Adam had tipped his head back and was staring up at him, as wide-eyed as he could get with his eyes trying to slide heavy-lidded and his mouth still swollen and red and slick from sucking Kris's cock, and Kris got to look at him while Tommy's fingers rubbed at him, weird and perfect. "Kris," Adam said, wondering-soft and happy, like he hadn't thought he could have this, either, like he'd believed in that bullshit line, the same way Kris had.
"Fuck, he's so big," Tommy murmured. "You're so going to feel this after, baby."
"Yeah," Kris managed, "good." Adam dropped his head way back between his arms and stared at the ceiling with a determined, hanging-on kind of look, wild-eyed, and Tommy's hand closed on Kris's hip and pulled him back and down.
Kris had to work for it, breathe out slow and relax, feeling every inch, Tommy rubbing his hip, encouraging, Adam just panting hard, his eyes wet. Kris was close, so close, and then Tommy fucked into Adam, first good hard thrust rocking Adam up into him, and Kris was all the way down on Adam's hips, propped up on shaking arms and there for the whole ride, taking it along with Adam, kissing him, desperately, crossing the line, five miles off the ground and flying.
= End =
All feedback much appreciated!