Fic: Present
Feb. 20th, 2011 04:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
silentdescanttitle: Present
pairing: Adam/Tommy
rating: NC-17
words: 2600
warning: voyeurism, I guess?
summary: Tommy gives Adam something special for his birthday.
disclaimer: Very untrue. Don't google yourself. Don't pass this along to anyone involved.
a/n: What I wouldn't give for a Tommy sex tape of my own... This also (hopefully) counts as my "voyeurism" square on my kink_bingo card.
on ao3
Adam always feels a little embarrassed opening presents on his birthday. He’s so grateful, to his friends and his fans, for everything they give him, and he tries to show how overwhelmed he is, and how much he appreciates whatever they give him. He takes time to hug and kiss everyone at his party after unwrapping their present, and set everything aside carefully, reverently, even the joke gifts.
Tommy’s present is a CD, in one of those thin, blank cases, and a note. At first, Adam thinks it’s a mix CD; Tommy likes making mixes for his friends, and he’s never given Adam one before. He opens the case and reads the label, written in red Sharpie. For Adam. How descriptive. Adam unfolds the note next.
Adam,
I made you a DVD. Don’t let anyone else see it. Sorry this is so lame, but happy birthday! Love you.
Tommy
Adam looks up and glances around until he finds Tommy, his bright blonde hair poking out between two people’s shoulders. Tommy meets his eyes for a moment, enough for Adam to raise a questioning eyebrow, then he ducks his head, hiding from view. He disappears completely before Adam can make his way over to thank him, or ask what’s on the DVD.
Finally, the party ends, and Adam’s alone in his house. He takes a small stack of presents up to his bedroom—the jewelry, the t-shirt, the gloves… and Tommy’s movie. After putting everything away, he pops the DVD into the player and sits down on the end of his bed to watch.
It starts playing right away, no menu or anything. It’s Tommy’s bedroom, and it’s like a mirror image of Adam’s; the camera faces the bed head-on, and after a moment, Tommy steps into frame and sits down just like Adam, on the end of his bed. Tommy looks pretty, made up with eyeliner and lip gloss and the necklace Adam gave him last year, but he’s dressed in baggy sweat pants and a long sleeved shirt. He tucks his hair behind his ear and looks nervously into the camera.
“Hey, Adam. Happy birthday! Um. Sorry, this is really weird, talking to you when you’re not actually here. Um… I just wanted to… give you something special. I hope you think it’s special, anyway. Don’t watch this with anyone, okay? Just—You’re alone, right? I mean…” Tommy trails off into a nervous laugh and plays with his hair again. “This is really weird.”
Adam leans forward, settling his elbows on his knees, and waits for Tommy to regain his confidence. A moment later, Tommy’s expression smoothes out and he looks directly into the camera—Adam can almost pretend Tommy’s really there, looking him right in the eye.
“Happy birthday, Adam. I love you. And I hope you like this.” Tommy presses his lips together in a thin line. “Okay, here we go.”
Tommy disappears and the angle shifts, so Adam has a better view of the bed. After a few seconds, Tommy walks into frame again. This time, he ignores the camera. He’s not wearing the shirt or the pants any longer, just a pair of black briefs. He crawls onto the bed and settles against the pillows on his back, glancing at the camera out of the corner of his eye.
“Oh,” Adam breathes. “Oh, fuck.”
Tommy starts with his hand on his face, his fingers trailing over his cheeks and pulling down his lower lip, and then he moves down, sliding his palm across his throat and over the bump of his collarbones and finally, finally down to his left nipple. He circles it with his middle fingers and Adam can see it harden to a stiff point—Adam’s breath catches and he grabs for the remote, pausing the video while he takes off his shirt and pants. He situates himself on the bed just like Tommy is, leaning back against the pillows in his underwear, and hits play.
Tommy resumes stroking his nipple, then moves across to the other one until it hardens under his touch, and then Tommy drags his hand slowly down his torso until it reaches the waistband of his underwear. Just the sight of Tommy in his underwear, all that unbelievably pale, smooth skin on display, is enough for Adam’s cock to make its interest known, but he holds off touching himself until Tommy moves his hand and squeezes his dick through the fabric. Adam copies him, biting back a groan so he can hear if Tommy makes any noise. Tommy’s so quiet in person, and Adam’s always wondered if Tommy would stay quiet in bed. He doesn’t make any noise yet, but Adam does see him bite his lip.
He watches closely as Tommy grips his cock, rocking his hips up into his hand a few times. After a moment, Tommy’s shiny, pink lips fall open in a near-silent gasp and he lifts his hand away. He pushes his briefs down just far enough to reveal his dick, which springs free and stands erect. Adam licks his lips.
“I can’t believe this. I can’t fucking believe this,” he whispers, half-sure that he’s dreaming this whole night. Tommy gave him some cheesy horror movie and a card that sings Happy Birthday in an annoying voice, not a fucking homemade jerk-off video labeled For Adam’s Eyes Only. On the screen, Tommy’s stroking his cock, and this just can’t be happening. Adam considers calling Tommy up right now, but that would ruin the moment.
The moment being, Tommy sticking his free hand into his underwear to play with his balls or his ass or something Adam can’t see but really fucking wants to. Adam slides his own underwear off and spreads his legs, eyes fixed on the screen. It’s not the first time he’s seen Tommy’s cock, but there’s a difference between catching a glimpse in a dressing room and trying not to look, and seeing it hard and proudly on display on his television. He can’t tear his gaze away.
After a minute or so, Tommy seems to get fed up with the briefs caught around his hand and he stops everything to push them down his thighs. He struggles with them for a second, getting one ankle tangled and failing to kick them off successfully, and Adam can’t help but find the whole situation charming. He chuckles behind his hand, shaking his head fondly.
When Tommy finally gets them off, he sits on his knees, staring at the camera reproachfully. “Don’t laugh,” he says, but he’s smiling. “I’m kind of tempted to just start over, now.”
“No,” Adam says aloud. “No, baby, don’t start over. Come on.” He reaches down and squeezes his cock hopefully, eyes glued to the screen. “Come on, Tommy.”
Tommy’s hand slides down his abdomen lazily. Adam tracks his progress, then, when the back of Tommy’s hand brushes his cock, he looks up to Tommy’s face. Tommy’s still staring at the camera.
“It almost feels like you’re here,” Tommy says. It’s like he’s staring right through the screen, meeting Adam’s gaze. “I’m all flustered and nervous like you’re actually sitting here, in my room.”
Tommy turns his hand and grasps his cock. He starts stroking again, and Adam has an even better view of him now that he’s not lying back against the pillows. Tommy’s hips rock up into his hand, pushing his cock into his fist, and Adam can see the shininess of precome smearing around Tommy’s fingers. He swallows and starts stroking his own dick, matching Tommy’s pace.
Tommy eventually arches his back and stretches out on the bed, his legs still bent beneath him but spread wide, and now Adam can see everything. He sees how tightly Tommy’s holding himself, sees the way Tommy’s thighs are tensing and twitching, sees glimpses of Tommy’s balls through his fingers as he rolls them in his palm.
And he finally hears Tommy, as well. Tommy’s given up on keeping quiet; his mouth is open wide, and he’s moaning with each labored breath, like he just can’t help himself. Adam digs the fingers of one hand into his thigh, trying so hard to remain silent so he can listen.
Tommy flails and his limbs splay open, and he figures out how to arrange himself so his legs aren’t cramping up under him and so that the camera can still see everything. He bends one knee but leaves the other down, so it doesn’t block his face, and Adam sees him push his hand back behind his balls. Adam can’t see exactly what his fingers are doing, but he knows what he hopes they’re doing. A few seconds later, Tommy’s leg twitches and falls to the side, opening him up even more, and Adam knows he was right.
Tommy keeps shifting around, trying to get comfortable, and finally scoots back on the bed to grab the pillow. Instead of stuffing it under his head, though, he lifts his hips and slides it under his back, giving Adam a much clearer view of his ass. He then pulls a little bottle of lube out from the pillowcase and Adam’s mouth drops open as he drizzles some onto his cock.
Tommy’s cock is deeply flushed and now, slick with the lube, mouth-wateringly gorgeous as it slides in and out of Tommy’s fist. Tommy keeps drizzling the lube out onto his hand and all around his dick, so it coats his balls and drips down into his crack. He’s glistening in the low light, so slick and ready, and Adam has to take his hands away from his dick and suck in deep gulps of air to bring himself back from the edge.
He reaches over and fumbles his for his own bottle of lube, quickly squirting some out into his palm, and resumes stroking himself—slowly, this time—right when Tommy stops. He slides his hand through the mess of lube and rubs two fingers over his hole. Adam watches raptly as Tommy slicks himself up and slowly pushes one finger inside.
It’s pretty clear it isn’t Tommy’s first time trying this; he doesn’t take it slow, and he doesn’t waste any time in adding his second finger, and the only thing he says is, “Oh, fuck, yeah.” He thrusts two fingers in and out a few times, then tucks his third up against them and twists them around, slowly screwing them inside.
“Oh, Jesus,” Adam breathes. His hand squeezes tight around the base of his dick. He can’t even think anymore; he just stares at the screen, stares at Tommy fingering himself, and only barely dares to breathe.
“Adam, Adam,” Tommy pants. He twists around a little, shifting his shoulders without dislodging his hand, so the camera can see his face. He looks so open and vulnerable, almost dazed, his mouth slack and his lips shining with moisture. He closes his eyes. Adam looks back at Tommy’s hand and sees the tendons shift as Tommy curls his fingers.
“Jesus, fuck, Tommy,” Adam gasps. He loses whatever sound Tommy makes, but he can see the sudden tension around Tommy’s mouth, the way he clenches his eyes shut and then relaxes so completely.
“Oh, god, Adam,” Tommy says. “Your cock, your fucking cock. If you were—I’d need more, wouldn’t I? I’d need four fingers. I bet I would. You’re so fucking big, so hot, Adam, I need that. I need you.”
“Oh, you are not…” Adam whispers. He stretches his middle finger down between his legs and pushes at his hole, just to tease.
Tommy pulls out his three fingers and lines up his pinkie right underneath, and Adam loses his breath.
“Oh, fuck, you are.”
This time, Tommy moans loudly as he twists his fingers in. He moves slowly at first, clearly working at getting himself used to the stretch, then starts to thrust his hand in earnest. He adds his other hand around his cock, pumping it in time to his fingers in his ass, and Adam feels like either his brain or his dick might explode if he holds off his orgasm much longer. He sucks in a breath of air but it takes effort, and his lungs don’t seem to be working properly anymore.
“Fuck, Adam, your cock, Jesus, fuck me, fuck me, Adam, fuck me so fucking hard, Adam, please,” Tommy chants, turning his head and pressing his cheek against the bedspread.
Adam gives up and lets it happen, stripping his cock furiously and bringing himself off with a sudden, choked groan. He curls in on himself as he comes, splattering his chest and then rolling onto his side, already exhausted.
He looks back at the screen, panting and still stroking himself because he just can’t stop, and sees Tommy thrashing on the bed. Tommy still hasn’t shut up, he’s still babbling nonsense about Adam’s dick, about how close he is, about how full he feels, about anything and everything, and he’s thrusting his hips into the air with abandon until he comes. He doesn’t hide himself when he comes, like Adam had; he stretches out, his limbs going lax, and almost proudly displays the mess splashed across his stomach and pooling by his hip. Adam thinks of Tommy’s tattoos and realizes he should have known Tommy would like being marked.
That thought leads to others: coming all over Tommy’s face, bruising his hips as they fuck, sucking and biting Tommy’s throat—and Adam almost misses what Tommy does next.
He twists around, lying sideways so Adam has a clear view of his whole body, and stares into the camera. He’s still breathing harshly and the makeup around his left eye is smeared from rubbing against the blanket, but his eyes are clear and dazzling and he doesn’t look away.
He says, “I love you, Adam.” He blinks. He says, “I love you,” again, then closes his eyes. The screen goes black.
Adam grabs his phone before he’s even caught his breath, his thumb finding speed dial four without his brain even getting involved. Tommy answers on the first ring.
“Adam?” He sounds tense.
“Hey,” Adam breathes.
“I was hoping you’d call tonight. Or… not hoping, but expecting.”
“You’re amazing, you know that?” Adam says. “Like, really, Tommy… I can’t even believe you did that for me.”
Tommy’s quiet for a long moment. “Did you watch the whole thing?” he asks, his voice so soft that Adam can barely make out the words.
“Yeah. Are you embarrassed?” he asks gently. “We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want.”
“No, it’s fine,” Tommy says quickly. “I just… I’m glad you liked it.” He pauses. The silence feels tense and awkward; Adam hopes this didn’t just ruin whatever relationship they have together. He hears Tommy take a deep breath. “Well, yeah, so, I kind of have to go, so, like, I’ll just—yeah, I’m glad you liked it. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Tommy hangs up quickly. Adam pulls the phone away from his ear and sees the call ended message staring up at him. He watches the screen until it fades and turns off.
Then it hits him.
“Shit!”
He calls Tommy back, and this time Tommy answers right before it kicks over to voicemail. Adam doesn’t even wait for him to speak.
“I love you too,” he says.
It startles a laugh out of Tommy. Adam breathes a sigh of relief.
“Maybe I should have started with that, before.” Tommy laughs again. He sounds almost giddy. It makes Adam smile. “I love you too, Tommy. I love you.”
fin.
pairing: Adam/Tommy
rating: NC-17
words: 2600
warning: voyeurism, I guess?
summary: Tommy gives Adam something special for his birthday.
disclaimer: Very untrue. Don't google yourself. Don't pass this along to anyone involved.
a/n: What I wouldn't give for a Tommy sex tape of my own... This also (hopefully) counts as my "voyeurism" square on my kink_bingo card.
on ao3
Adam always feels a little embarrassed opening presents on his birthday. He’s so grateful, to his friends and his fans, for everything they give him, and he tries to show how overwhelmed he is, and how much he appreciates whatever they give him. He takes time to hug and kiss everyone at his party after unwrapping their present, and set everything aside carefully, reverently, even the joke gifts.
Tommy’s present is a CD, in one of those thin, blank cases, and a note. At first, Adam thinks it’s a mix CD; Tommy likes making mixes for his friends, and he’s never given Adam one before. He opens the case and reads the label, written in red Sharpie. For Adam. How descriptive. Adam unfolds the note next.
Adam,
I made you a DVD. Don’t let anyone else see it. Sorry this is so lame, but happy birthday! Love you.
Tommy
Adam looks up and glances around until he finds Tommy, his bright blonde hair poking out between two people’s shoulders. Tommy meets his eyes for a moment, enough for Adam to raise a questioning eyebrow, then he ducks his head, hiding from view. He disappears completely before Adam can make his way over to thank him, or ask what’s on the DVD.
Finally, the party ends, and Adam’s alone in his house. He takes a small stack of presents up to his bedroom—the jewelry, the t-shirt, the gloves… and Tommy’s movie. After putting everything away, he pops the DVD into the player and sits down on the end of his bed to watch.
It starts playing right away, no menu or anything. It’s Tommy’s bedroom, and it’s like a mirror image of Adam’s; the camera faces the bed head-on, and after a moment, Tommy steps into frame and sits down just like Adam, on the end of his bed. Tommy looks pretty, made up with eyeliner and lip gloss and the necklace Adam gave him last year, but he’s dressed in baggy sweat pants and a long sleeved shirt. He tucks his hair behind his ear and looks nervously into the camera.
“Hey, Adam. Happy birthday! Um. Sorry, this is really weird, talking to you when you’re not actually here. Um… I just wanted to… give you something special. I hope you think it’s special, anyway. Don’t watch this with anyone, okay? Just—You’re alone, right? I mean…” Tommy trails off into a nervous laugh and plays with his hair again. “This is really weird.”
Adam leans forward, settling his elbows on his knees, and waits for Tommy to regain his confidence. A moment later, Tommy’s expression smoothes out and he looks directly into the camera—Adam can almost pretend Tommy’s really there, looking him right in the eye.
“Happy birthday, Adam. I love you. And I hope you like this.” Tommy presses his lips together in a thin line. “Okay, here we go.”
Tommy disappears and the angle shifts, so Adam has a better view of the bed. After a few seconds, Tommy walks into frame again. This time, he ignores the camera. He’s not wearing the shirt or the pants any longer, just a pair of black briefs. He crawls onto the bed and settles against the pillows on his back, glancing at the camera out of the corner of his eye.
“Oh,” Adam breathes. “Oh, fuck.”
Tommy starts with his hand on his face, his fingers trailing over his cheeks and pulling down his lower lip, and then he moves down, sliding his palm across his throat and over the bump of his collarbones and finally, finally down to his left nipple. He circles it with his middle fingers and Adam can see it harden to a stiff point—Adam’s breath catches and he grabs for the remote, pausing the video while he takes off his shirt and pants. He situates himself on the bed just like Tommy is, leaning back against the pillows in his underwear, and hits play.
Tommy resumes stroking his nipple, then moves across to the other one until it hardens under his touch, and then Tommy drags his hand slowly down his torso until it reaches the waistband of his underwear. Just the sight of Tommy in his underwear, all that unbelievably pale, smooth skin on display, is enough for Adam’s cock to make its interest known, but he holds off touching himself until Tommy moves his hand and squeezes his dick through the fabric. Adam copies him, biting back a groan so he can hear if Tommy makes any noise. Tommy’s so quiet in person, and Adam’s always wondered if Tommy would stay quiet in bed. He doesn’t make any noise yet, but Adam does see him bite his lip.
He watches closely as Tommy grips his cock, rocking his hips up into his hand a few times. After a moment, Tommy’s shiny, pink lips fall open in a near-silent gasp and he lifts his hand away. He pushes his briefs down just far enough to reveal his dick, which springs free and stands erect. Adam licks his lips.
“I can’t believe this. I can’t fucking believe this,” he whispers, half-sure that he’s dreaming this whole night. Tommy gave him some cheesy horror movie and a card that sings Happy Birthday in an annoying voice, not a fucking homemade jerk-off video labeled For Adam’s Eyes Only. On the screen, Tommy’s stroking his cock, and this just can’t be happening. Adam considers calling Tommy up right now, but that would ruin the moment.
The moment being, Tommy sticking his free hand into his underwear to play with his balls or his ass or something Adam can’t see but really fucking wants to. Adam slides his own underwear off and spreads his legs, eyes fixed on the screen. It’s not the first time he’s seen Tommy’s cock, but there’s a difference between catching a glimpse in a dressing room and trying not to look, and seeing it hard and proudly on display on his television. He can’t tear his gaze away.
After a minute or so, Tommy seems to get fed up with the briefs caught around his hand and he stops everything to push them down his thighs. He struggles with them for a second, getting one ankle tangled and failing to kick them off successfully, and Adam can’t help but find the whole situation charming. He chuckles behind his hand, shaking his head fondly.
When Tommy finally gets them off, he sits on his knees, staring at the camera reproachfully. “Don’t laugh,” he says, but he’s smiling. “I’m kind of tempted to just start over, now.”
“No,” Adam says aloud. “No, baby, don’t start over. Come on.” He reaches down and squeezes his cock hopefully, eyes glued to the screen. “Come on, Tommy.”
Tommy’s hand slides down his abdomen lazily. Adam tracks his progress, then, when the back of Tommy’s hand brushes his cock, he looks up to Tommy’s face. Tommy’s still staring at the camera.
“It almost feels like you’re here,” Tommy says. It’s like he’s staring right through the screen, meeting Adam’s gaze. “I’m all flustered and nervous like you’re actually sitting here, in my room.”
Tommy turns his hand and grasps his cock. He starts stroking again, and Adam has an even better view of him now that he’s not lying back against the pillows. Tommy’s hips rock up into his hand, pushing his cock into his fist, and Adam can see the shininess of precome smearing around Tommy’s fingers. He swallows and starts stroking his own dick, matching Tommy’s pace.
Tommy eventually arches his back and stretches out on the bed, his legs still bent beneath him but spread wide, and now Adam can see everything. He sees how tightly Tommy’s holding himself, sees the way Tommy’s thighs are tensing and twitching, sees glimpses of Tommy’s balls through his fingers as he rolls them in his palm.
And he finally hears Tommy, as well. Tommy’s given up on keeping quiet; his mouth is open wide, and he’s moaning with each labored breath, like he just can’t help himself. Adam digs the fingers of one hand into his thigh, trying so hard to remain silent so he can listen.
Tommy flails and his limbs splay open, and he figures out how to arrange himself so his legs aren’t cramping up under him and so that the camera can still see everything. He bends one knee but leaves the other down, so it doesn’t block his face, and Adam sees him push his hand back behind his balls. Adam can’t see exactly what his fingers are doing, but he knows what he hopes they’re doing. A few seconds later, Tommy’s leg twitches and falls to the side, opening him up even more, and Adam knows he was right.
Tommy keeps shifting around, trying to get comfortable, and finally scoots back on the bed to grab the pillow. Instead of stuffing it under his head, though, he lifts his hips and slides it under his back, giving Adam a much clearer view of his ass. He then pulls a little bottle of lube out from the pillowcase and Adam’s mouth drops open as he drizzles some onto his cock.
Tommy’s cock is deeply flushed and now, slick with the lube, mouth-wateringly gorgeous as it slides in and out of Tommy’s fist. Tommy keeps drizzling the lube out onto his hand and all around his dick, so it coats his balls and drips down into his crack. He’s glistening in the low light, so slick and ready, and Adam has to take his hands away from his dick and suck in deep gulps of air to bring himself back from the edge.
He reaches over and fumbles his for his own bottle of lube, quickly squirting some out into his palm, and resumes stroking himself—slowly, this time—right when Tommy stops. He slides his hand through the mess of lube and rubs two fingers over his hole. Adam watches raptly as Tommy slicks himself up and slowly pushes one finger inside.
It’s pretty clear it isn’t Tommy’s first time trying this; he doesn’t take it slow, and he doesn’t waste any time in adding his second finger, and the only thing he says is, “Oh, fuck, yeah.” He thrusts two fingers in and out a few times, then tucks his third up against them and twists them around, slowly screwing them inside.
“Oh, Jesus,” Adam breathes. His hand squeezes tight around the base of his dick. He can’t even think anymore; he just stares at the screen, stares at Tommy fingering himself, and only barely dares to breathe.
“Adam, Adam,” Tommy pants. He twists around a little, shifting his shoulders without dislodging his hand, so the camera can see his face. He looks so open and vulnerable, almost dazed, his mouth slack and his lips shining with moisture. He closes his eyes. Adam looks back at Tommy’s hand and sees the tendons shift as Tommy curls his fingers.
“Jesus, fuck, Tommy,” Adam gasps. He loses whatever sound Tommy makes, but he can see the sudden tension around Tommy’s mouth, the way he clenches his eyes shut and then relaxes so completely.
“Oh, god, Adam,” Tommy says. “Your cock, your fucking cock. If you were—I’d need more, wouldn’t I? I’d need four fingers. I bet I would. You’re so fucking big, so hot, Adam, I need that. I need you.”
“Oh, you are not…” Adam whispers. He stretches his middle finger down between his legs and pushes at his hole, just to tease.
Tommy pulls out his three fingers and lines up his pinkie right underneath, and Adam loses his breath.
“Oh, fuck, you are.”
This time, Tommy moans loudly as he twists his fingers in. He moves slowly at first, clearly working at getting himself used to the stretch, then starts to thrust his hand in earnest. He adds his other hand around his cock, pumping it in time to his fingers in his ass, and Adam feels like either his brain or his dick might explode if he holds off his orgasm much longer. He sucks in a breath of air but it takes effort, and his lungs don’t seem to be working properly anymore.
“Fuck, Adam, your cock, Jesus, fuck me, fuck me, Adam, fuck me so fucking hard, Adam, please,” Tommy chants, turning his head and pressing his cheek against the bedspread.
Adam gives up and lets it happen, stripping his cock furiously and bringing himself off with a sudden, choked groan. He curls in on himself as he comes, splattering his chest and then rolling onto his side, already exhausted.
He looks back at the screen, panting and still stroking himself because he just can’t stop, and sees Tommy thrashing on the bed. Tommy still hasn’t shut up, he’s still babbling nonsense about Adam’s dick, about how close he is, about how full he feels, about anything and everything, and he’s thrusting his hips into the air with abandon until he comes. He doesn’t hide himself when he comes, like Adam had; he stretches out, his limbs going lax, and almost proudly displays the mess splashed across his stomach and pooling by his hip. Adam thinks of Tommy’s tattoos and realizes he should have known Tommy would like being marked.
That thought leads to others: coming all over Tommy’s face, bruising his hips as they fuck, sucking and biting Tommy’s throat—and Adam almost misses what Tommy does next.
He twists around, lying sideways so Adam has a clear view of his whole body, and stares into the camera. He’s still breathing harshly and the makeup around his left eye is smeared from rubbing against the blanket, but his eyes are clear and dazzling and he doesn’t look away.
He says, “I love you, Adam.” He blinks. He says, “I love you,” again, then closes his eyes. The screen goes black.
Adam grabs his phone before he’s even caught his breath, his thumb finding speed dial four without his brain even getting involved. Tommy answers on the first ring.
“Adam?” He sounds tense.
“Hey,” Adam breathes.
“I was hoping you’d call tonight. Or… not hoping, but expecting.”
“You’re amazing, you know that?” Adam says. “Like, really, Tommy… I can’t even believe you did that for me.”
Tommy’s quiet for a long moment. “Did you watch the whole thing?” he asks, his voice so soft that Adam can barely make out the words.
“Yeah. Are you embarrassed?” he asks gently. “We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want.”
“No, it’s fine,” Tommy says quickly. “I just… I’m glad you liked it.” He pauses. The silence feels tense and awkward; Adam hopes this didn’t just ruin whatever relationship they have together. He hears Tommy take a deep breath. “Well, yeah, so, I kind of have to go, so, like, I’ll just—yeah, I’m glad you liked it. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Tommy hangs up quickly. Adam pulls the phone away from his ear and sees the call ended message staring up at him. He watches the screen until it fades and turns off.
Then it hits him.
“Shit!”
He calls Tommy back, and this time Tommy answers right before it kicks over to voicemail. Adam doesn’t even wait for him to speak.
“I love you too,” he says.
It startles a laugh out of Tommy. Adam breathes a sigh of relief.
“Maybe I should have started with that, before.” Tommy laughs again. He sounds almost giddy. It makes Adam smile. “I love you too, Tommy. I love you.”
fin.