I woke up today
to find myself in the other place
with a trail of my footprints
from where I ran away
Adam dreams the same dream every night.
“Well, don’t that look good,” says David silhouetted against the bright white that’s spilling out of the bathroom. “If only I had a camera-”
Why the fuck didn’t Adam think first and fuck never? He should’ve known Boreanaz wouldn’t be too far removed from his keeper.
The amused words drift away as the man pushes James down and licks at the red marks around his neck like a big cat.
“Don’t leave your dirty fingerprints on him again,” he says looking over at Adam who’s in a heap on the floor recovering from his post-sex, post-fury fugue.
Adam blinks and stares and then he laughs. It’s the first honest sin-free emotion he’s felt in months and it’s a release: the perfect time for an exit, and he means to, he really does but the sight of David licking his sperm off James’ body is too enticing.
He shouldn’t be able to get it up again but he does and they fuck where they’re laying, in a fierce hard orgy of bodies, sharing spit and sweat and need and greed and desperation, James sandwiched between them as they penetrate him together.
James howls in pain (triumph) as both cocks force their way inside him, greased up on a passage of come and lube. There should be tears in that mix because Adam feels like crying (dying). No, there’s no need for that. He’s dead already.
He relives (re-dies?) the same thing every night.
it seems everything I've heard
just might be true
and you know me
(well you think you do)
Adam cuts James out of his life like cancer, but it feels far more like an abortion.
He got a girl pregnant once when he was young and fucked up (less fucked up than now.) He paid for her to get rid of it and afterwards, when he’d eventually found the guts to look her in the eye eighteen months too late, it was as if she’d been terminated along with that baby of hers (theirs.) That fucked him up more. He didn’t want a conscience; it didn’t fit him right.
Now he’s filled with that rawness all over again. Back to being a good boy, he’s spending time with the family and shooting a new show for Fox which is gonna be good. Even if he’s not got that much screen time, it’s still a pay check and that’s what counts (in large amounts.)
The hype for Serenity is building and he can feel that thrum of excitement that he had when he worked on films in the past. His love for acting has been a guttering candle, tiny bursts of hope and then the bleakness of a fade out to black. Now he daren’t even breathe the thought that maybe there’s life out there after all. If he can just keep himself under control.
sometimes, I have everything......
yet I wish I felt something
San Francisco. Another con, another dollar. The Moscone Centre is heaving with fans, a sea of obsessive outfits and potential crazies carrying all manner of fake (real?) weapons. Adam likes it; he feels at home here.
He’s stayed away from anyone he knows for as long as possible, the shame (memory) of that photo (night) ingrained on the inside of his eyelids like a lithograph. He thinks of missed calls and masturbation then takes a breath before coming out onto the stage and clowning around in a Jayne-esque fashion as expected.
His hugs are offered up in such an affectionate way that Joss and Summer look at him like he’s a fucking alien. Maybe he is. In fact he has absolute proof he is when Fillion comes onto the stage leaning down and brushing soft kisses against the back of his neck and everything departs once again for that own personal hell he’s built for himself.
Nathan sits down next to him, pretty smile in place as he flirts with the whole room, but those sweet sweet eyes are secretly sliding over him, making him tingle in all the wrong (right) parts. Adam thinks he’s doing okay until fingers start walking up his thigh then tug at the zipper of his pants. Shit, he’s sitting here on stage in front of hundreds maybe thousands of people trying his fucking hardest to pay attention when under cover of a cloth covered table the star of the show has a hand wriggling around inside his fly.
Slapping Nathan away and playing the fool, he does his zipper up then changes places with Summer, missing the danger zone so bad when it’s gone that he feels as if the life’s been sucked out of him. He can’t risk it though, not after the photograph incident.
Half expecting some comment to be made about that little disaster, Adam’s so relieved when he makes it all the way through without screwing up that he tells the world how great it is to work with (fuck) Nathan, which is true. The man is bright and funny and now he’s calling him over for a hug, a long hug full of some subtle groping that leaves Adam harder than ever and just about hanging onto the right side of sane.
do you know how far this has gone?
just how damaged have I become?
when I think I can overcome
it runs even deeper
Who needs sane?
They kiss like lovers in a dark little niche between the men’s room and make up, sucking at tongues until they’re grinding and moaning in a place where anyone could see them if they looked hard enough.
“Fuck, I love your cock,” sighs Nathan, falling to his knees like he’s praying then holding him in both hands and licking up and down his shaft until Adam can feel his toes curling. No hurry, no hate, no hurt. No games.
He buries himself deeper into the darkness and closes his eyes, fingers weaving and twisting into Nathan’s hair and he’s not thinking about James, not ever. Thank you, he wants to say. Thank you for drawing the poison out from these wounds.
The slow suction of the blow is like nothing on this earth. He’s floating on a high of cold-hot shivers, his body aching, waking up after months of abstinence.
“Fuck my mouth,” demands Nathan, looking up at him, wet lips shining with pre-come, eyes shining with want. He’s as pouty as a petulant kid (James) and Adam gives in to the need to punish (be punished), pushing Nathan into the corner and bracing himself on the wall as he’s sucked inside coiled throat muscles. That tongue twists and twirls and he’s wrapped up in this hot wet world as he fucks harder and harder ignoring the dull repetitive thud of Nate’s head slamming against the wall.
“Yes, Christ, yes,” he hisses, clamping a hand over his mouth and biting into the soft tissue as he comes in a series of explosive spurts into Nathan’s mouth. Does it taste as bitter as sin? It feels like it should. Does he think of James?
in a dream I'm a different me
with a perfect you
we fit perfectly
for once in my life I feel complete
(and I still wanna ruin it)
Adam’s scared and it’s a buzz. Anyone could have seen them, anyone at all. Nathan’s in no hurry though, licking him clean, nuzzling into his crotch and then zipping him back up with a reluctant sigh.
“Time for us to be whores now,” he says with a slow smile as he gets to his feet, letting Adam feel the hardness inside his pants. “Then we get to have fun and play at being whores.”
They’re about to part ways when Nathan pulls him back into the edge of the darkness and they kiss long and slow and full of dirty intent. So very very dangerous.
a fraid to look
as clear as day
this plan is long been underway
I hear them call
I cannot stay
the voice inviting me away
The room is huge; a sea of beige hotel carpet with pens full of low level celebrities guarded by their managers who are making sure they don’t slip the leash.
Nathan’s too close to Adam for comfort. They flirt with eye-contact and smiles in between the bodies of the weary conned ones who are exhausted from ogling hordes of semi-famous actors. Only one more day to go then they can all hibernate until it’s time for the next convention (freak show.)
When Adam takes a bathroom break he’s not expecting to have his ass felt up and be manhandled into a stall.
“S’okay, no one else is in here,” whispers Nate, smiling when the room fills with footsteps and echoing voices. He stifles Adam’s panic with more of those sweet sultry kisses.
There’s nowhere to go so when Nathan takes his hand and places it over his bulging groin Adam unbuttons then slips his fingers inside, feeling the heat from that swollen cock burn into his skin.
“Fuck,” murmurs Nathan, hooking a leg and both arms around him and pulling him in closer. Adam thinks maybe he should talk about that night and what happened afterwards, but why ruin this? Easing Nathan’s prick out of his pants, he spits into his palm, grips him tight and rubs his thumb over the wet open slit to encourage more of the slickness to dribble out.
“Fuck.” Nate dives into Adam’s mouth, eating him out like he’s starving while Adam fists him with a slow jerking action designed to work him up more than work him off.
“God, fuck, so fucking good,” whines Nathan, “Please, please, please…”
“Gotta get back to the fans,” whispers Adam, kissing him and then backing away with a grin when he’s pretty sure that the bathroom is empty. It almost is, apart from one old guy who’s probably famous in comic book circles. The man looks suspiciously at Adam who’s busy wiping the snail-trails of fluid off his sweatshirt and then leaves with a look of disgust when Nathan emerges from the stall.
“You shithead,” says Nathan good-naturedly pressing the heel of his palm against his groin. “Later.”
“Sooner,” says Adam who’s just as hard, dirty bad hard, and giving himself up to this all the way. His erection is in charge as always.
They sign photos for another half-hour or so. ‘Gotta push the film,’ says Joss, ‘if you want more work.’ Adam’s struggling to breathe. Nathan has swapped seats and is up close and personal, a sliver away from arousing suspicion. The looks they’re giving each other must tell the world they’re as close to fucking as they can get without bodily contact.
Adam lets the arousal rise and wash over him, enjoying the fact that he’s sitting here with a cock as hard as iron and a Nathan to replace James. To supersede James, he tells himself.
When it’s over there’s no time for long goodbyes. They’re hustled out by the stewards and Adam’s glad he’s got a jacket with him to cover up his sins. It seems that Nathan’s not so worried about showing off his hard on, the white shirt sliding upward and displaying enough erection shots to get Adam wetting his dry lips.
everything that matters is gone
(everything that matters is gone)
all the hands of hope have withdrawn ( everything)
could you try to help me hang on?
it runs............
This time it’s him doing the manhandling, waiting ‘til the corridor is clear then grabbing Nate from behind and pulling him into an empty office. The door is slammed shut before the safety spring has a chance to jump into action then they have their hands in each others’ pants and their tongues in each others’ mouths.
Shifting his legs apart, Adam heaves Nathan against him, wet slippery cock to cock, and they grunt and fuck up against each other.
“Wanna screw you,” hisses Nathan, “Want you to screw me.”
Fingers wet with juices, they rub and frot and keep as quiet as they can in that cool dark room where they’re not supposed to be.
“Do you wanna fuck me?”
It’s a call to arms that Adam can’t resist. He bundles Nathan across the room, thanking god for a clear desk as he rips the man’s jeans to his knees, pushing him face down across the wooden surface. The condom wrapper’s already open when they hear voices from the corridor. Adam grabs Nate and pulls him over to the door where they can’t be seen through the glass surround and they listen as a group of people pause outside the office. Nathan’s panting hard and he takes Adam’s hand and slides it over his hard on encouraging him to pump it with shaky fingers.
“Christ, you get off on this, don’t you?” says Adam, pulling slow and easy until Nate is whining for more.
“See and be seen, yeah, but this is too crazy fucked up even for me,” answers Nate, leaning back against Adam and rubbing his ass up against his crotch ‘til Adam thinks he’s gonna come in his pants. “If I don’t get to feel that big cock inside me soon I’m gonna die of frustration.”
Adam laughs.
“You think I’m joking,” says Nathan twisting around for a kiss. “You can feel how fucking hard I am for you and your prick. Now let’s get the hell up to my hotel room so we can screw in peace. This day has been fun but I’m needing some private time with you right-fucking-now.”
Those words make Adam feel like he’s omnipotent. Closer to God than he’s ever been.
I'm straight
I won't crack
on my way
and I can't turn back
Nathan’s hand is shaking so much he can’t swipe the key card through the reader so Adam takes it from him and unlocks the door.
“You took your time,” says a voice that's thick and sticky like second-hand sex, “We got bored and had to start without you.”
I'm ok
I'm on track
on my way
and I can't turn back
Adam won’t look in the direction of the bed. He turns to go and he’s trembling like a fucking damsel in distress and if there’s any more of this shit he’ll faint like one. But Nathan’s there at his back with strong arms and soft kisses and whispered words, reminding him (his cock) of what he needs.
But he’s stronger (weaker) than arms and kisses and words and needs.
I'm ok
I'm on track
on my way
and I can't turn back
“I don’t want this any more,” he says, being brave and looking at James in the half-light. It’s not as if the man's a fucking gorgon: far more Lorelei than Medusa. “I don’t want your lies and your games and your fucking insanity. Don’t you get it? I don’t want you.”
I stayed
on this track
gone too far
and I can't come back
So why then is he letting Nathan slip an arm around him and undo his pants and why the hell can’t he shift his eyes away from the bed where David is kneeling up and gripping James by the hips as he thrusts into him from behind.
I stayed
on this track
lost my way
can't come back
“Big bed, one night, lots of fun,” drawls Nathan, working Adam’s cock with this slip slide jerk of his fist that has him on the point of begging for mercy. “Look at them. Look how pretty they are when they fuck.”
Adam wants to laugh; he knows intimately what they look like. He knows what they all look like, naked and tangled up together inside this web. They’re in his head all the fucking time.
James is staring at him; blue eyes sparking, pupils wide and wanting, fuelled on sex and speed and his dirty little games. It’s the wanting Adam can never get over, no matter how hard he tries. Maybe it’s just a matter of perspective.
Staring intently at the bed, he lets Nathan strip him as he watches David shaft James. Watches the way his balls tighten and his hand slides upwards to take a possessive grip of James’s neck. If he saturates himself in it for long enough, he’ll get numb.
“Want you,” says Nathan taking his hand and pulling him over to the bed. “Want you so fucking bad.”
I stayed
on this track
gone too far
and I can't come back
Adam pushes Nathan face down onto the bed, oiling him and stretching him and prepping them both like he’s a pro. He’s fucking Nathan and he’s staring at James and if he turns his head and dips slightly their mouths will connect.
“Why?” is all James says, quietly, painfully and Adam tries to see through that mask to the real man beneath, but he can’t get in. James is too good at closing doors.
“Because you make me sick,” he lies.
I stayed
on this track
lost my way
can't come back
Nathan clamps tight around him and Adam slows the fuck down, reaching underneath him and working the softening cock ‘til it’s hot and solid in his fist. Pulling Nate up until he’s on his lap, Adam lifts and heaves and pumps and thrusts, slick thick shaft sliding through his fingers as he bites hard into that spot at the junction of shoulder and neck, the place that makes James writhe and throw his head back like a whore.
Now it’s his turn to ask the question he’s been waiting to have an answer to for the last four months.
“Why did you post that photograph on the internet?” he asks, the taste of hate strong in his mouth when he thinks about public humiliation.
“I didn’t.”
James is still staring and Adam is hypnotised by those mellow eyes.
He turns away not wanting to hear any more lies and sucks bruises onto Nathan’s neck, jerking him off with a loose greased fist. He’s fucking him so slow and hard now that Nathan’s whimpering each time Adam rams into his sweet spot.
“I didn’t,” repeats James, his voice husky from an overdose of sex and truth telling. “I sent the photo to Fillion.”
I stayed
on this track
gone
DONE