you're keeping in step
in the line
got your chin held high and you feel just fine
When Adam hears that giggle of laughter his skin blisters with fear (excitement) and he stays back wondering what the hell Marsters is doing here at Universal. Don’t say Whedon has given him a fucking role in this movie? It’s not that unlikely. It’s not as if the man can’t act. It’s just that Adam doesn’t want him here deconstructing the wall he’s carefully built around himself.
He keeps a low profile nowadays. He did before when he was working on Firefly and it’s not because they’re unfriendly, in fact quite the opposite. He doesn’t want to screw up that family atmosphere so he hides away, reading books when he’s not needed and using his wife and kids as an excuse to keep two steps away from familiarity. He’s learned his lesson well. That fucked up situation with Marsters and Boreanaz got damn close to sending him spiralling out of control and from now on he’s thinking with his brain and not his (dick) head. Except when he’s in the shower.
“And you know Nathan,” says Joss, down in the hold of Serenity, not more than twenty feet away from Adam’s safe place.
“James, man, it’s good to see you.”
Fillion likes everyone and everyone likes him back double. He’s one of those guys who’s too good to be true and Adam frowns trying to work out where the hell Marsters knows him from. Fuck, of course, they were both in Whedon’s first show for a while. His frown relaxes a little when he figures out the answer, but then the thought of James and Nate spending time together makes him jittery and he unwraps a stick of gum and tries not to think, concentrating instead on chewing the cud and reading the same page of his book over and over again.
because you do
what you're told
but inside your heart it is black and it's hollow and it's cold.
The problem with being an actor is it really screws everything up if you’re a no show. That’s how come Marsters struggled through those last few weeks on Angel when he was a sick as a dog (bitch.) So when the call comes, Adam ignores it for as long as possible and then sneaks down the metal steps at the very last second. His soft inside is kind of hoping for a welcome party. His ever-hardening outside wants to be ambushed. He can’t see James and that’s good. Let him be gone. Please, God, let him be gone.
“Adam.”
There’s too much familiarity in one word. People who know each other intimately do that. Acquaintances make sentences so why the fuck can’t he put on an act and think of one?
His pretty bitch. He wants to push James down onto his knees and rub his hands over that spikeysoft buzz cut. Needs to fuck some face now. He can feel the ache building in the pit of stomach and if he doesn’t speak soon then Jewel and Nate are gonna wonder what the hell’s up with him. James knows exactly what’s up if that flicker of eyes and slight smile is anything to go by.
“James. How are you?”
Wow. Words, formed correctly and non-incriminating ones at that. Adam risks a glance around the set of the spaceship and is satisfied that he’s done okay.
“I got over the pneumonia, thanks for asking.”
There’s a loaded sentence designed to make him feel guilty if ever Adam heard one, but when he raises his eyes no one is looking his way.
“Hope you don’t work these guys as hard now they’re all movie stars,” James says grinning at Joss.
“Movie stars? None of us got that memo,” giggles Jewel, flirting outrageously with James who seems quite happy to flirt back.
“Work? When have any of my actors ever done any work? You’re all too fucking busy smoking and playing guitar to actually do anything,” snaps Joss with a sharp look James’s way that Adam can’t translate. He’s stuck in character, feeling as slow and bumbling as Jayne.
“Well, that and other things,” says James with a pout and then a slow smile in Adam’s direction.
“Once we get this scene wrapped we’re going for a beer. You gotta come with us.” Nathan slips his arm around James’s waist the way he does with everyone.
Adam’s had the benefit of several Fillion hugs and kisses so why the fuck is he feeling this murderous?
“You coming, Adam?” says Nathan, serving him up the opportunity to fuck James on that plate he remembers so well.
But he’s over all this and the last thing he wants is to dredge up the past and give all his friends (acquaintances) here a clue about who the real man is beneath that veneer. So, with a throat that’s swollen with misgivings, he answers, trying his best to keep the despair out of his voice. ”Sorry, guys, I’ll have to take a rain check. I got things to do.”
“The less the merrier then,” says James and Adam knows he’s angry as fuck with him. Hell, he’s angry enough with himself for the two of them.
just how deep do you believe?
will you bite the hand that feeds?
will you chew until it bleeds?
Adam’s feeling bitchy and alone. He waits around the corner in his car and watches (spies on) them as they troop into a club - one that has a back entrance and a V.I.P. lounge so they won’t be disturbed by drooling fangirls. Even Joss goes with them and Adam’s left festering with rage and loneliness and the worst thing about the whole damn situation is that it’s all of his making. All he wanted was for James to stay away from him. It’s not a lot to ask.
When he gets home, he snaps at every member of his family until he’s banished to the upstairs den where he tries not to think about Fillion and those closed mouth kisses and affectionate hands. Tries not to think about how pretty he and James would look cock to cock. Tries not to think how they may already be pressed up close, the flirting over, both of them needy and hard and full of want. James has a habit of getting what he wants.
But wasn’t it him who wanted James first?
Adam turns the key as quietly as he can so as not to arouse suspicion then pulls down his sweatpants and thinks some more about Nate and James. They’re too pretty to ignore and that’s the problem. When he comes, it’s like a temper tantrum and something inside him hurts at the rejection even though he was the one who rejected them.
can you get up off your knees?
are you brave enough to see?
do you want to change it?
Adam doesn’t sleep. How can he with his head full of bitterness and his cock full of blood? Everything’s back to how it was during that long slow seduction of James less than a year ago, except now he’s seething with intent not to fuck and he wants to do damage instead. He needs Boreanaz to be here right now. There’s no better cure for his frustration than beating (fucking) the hell out of David.
When Adam gets to the studio at six a.m. armed with doubts and donuts and latte from his favourite Italian coffee house, he’s hoping to sneak up the steps to his safe place and hide for an hour or two until it’s time for make up. But that’s not gonna happen because it seems everyone’s had the same idea about an early morning start. Marsters included.
Pushing away the bad thoughts that are whispering about how much fun Nathan and James had together last night, Adam mutters a grouchy, “G ‘morning,” and slinks his way around the back of the group of people.
It’s nothing new as far as the Firefly guys are concerned, they don’t even notice.
“I’m taking the kids on vacation next month so I’ll be out of the country for a while,” says James.
Ignoring the comment because nothing so far has been directed his way, Adam clambers up the steps, balancing coffee and pastries in one hand and carrying his book and cell in the other. The only reason he turns is because there’s this silence that’s so fucking ‘there’ he can feel it.
James is looking at him and he’s staring back and they’re both as guarded as hell.
“And that’s of interest to me because?” Adam cringes. Camp Bitch here he comes. Why didn’t he just cut the crap and send out a circular telling everyone he’s been screwing Marsters?
James sticks his hands in his pockets and lifts his shoulders then he stares down at the floor for a second. Adam can almost see the strings move as the man pulls himself back together. Still, it’s not his problem. Fillion can take James in hand for all he cares.
‘Liar,’ says a voice inside him as he strides off to his sanctuary.
what if this whole crusade's
a charade?
and behind it all there's a price to be paid
for the blood
on which we dine
justified in the name of the holy and the divine
“You look good,” says James. “All tanned and fit and I like the beard, it suits you. But underneath it all you’re still a cunt.”
Adam balks a little at that, seeing as he’s fucking positive he’s not the one who’s the cunt any which way you look at it, but he takes the sensible (moral?) high ground and pushes past James in an effort to get away. Still, he can’t deny it’s a heck of an ego trip to have Marsters chase after him, even if he is grinding out a “Fuck you,” through clenched teeth.
“Never again,” Adam retorts quietly with a satisfied smirk, flicking glances toward the stairs as he scouts out for danger.
Fingers clamp around Adam’s wrist and the grip is more powerful than he expected. Those hand jobs should have given him a clue.
“You’re a fucking moron as well as a cunt. If you’d stop acting like I have the motherfucking plague then you wouldn’t have to be so fucking jumpy.”
James is breathless and bright-eyed. He paces nervously, flicking open his zippo and lighting up a Marlboro then stubbing it out on a non-flammable piece of Serenity after a couple of drags.
“I don’t want you here,” says Adam. He may as well get straight to the point.
James looks bruised for a second, but then he finds his way back, wicked grin intact. “You don’t want to want me here.” There’s a pause and then he grabs Adam’s cock that’s lying there like a steel bar in his pants and squeezes hard. “But you do. And who the fuck says I came here ‘specially to see you? There are plenty of other people I know.”
Adam backs James up against the steel framework that makes up ninety percent of the infrastructure of Serenity.
“You know everybody,” he sneers like a jealous lover. “You’ve most likely known your way round every fucking set you’ve ever worked on.”
“I was wrong,” says James looking sideways and playing with the wrapper on a fresh pack of cigarettes. “You’re a bitch of a cunt.”
Adam’s forgotten how much he dwarfs the man. He wishes he could forget him altogether but he can’t.
Rabid is the only way to describe that feeling when he collides with James and they kiss with a greed that’s never been between them before. Long, breathless exchanges of tongue, trying to suck away the hurt and the bitter words.
James pushes up against him, his hands feeling their way ‘round more accentuated muscles while Adam’s fingers finally reach for James’s newly shorn hair. It’s soft just like he imagined, sexy bristly-soft, and he wants to push James down onto his knees and rub his swollen prick all over that fuzz.
It’s getting harder and harder to remain upright and his knees are starting to give way. He wants so much: mouth, cock, every damn part he can think of. Most of all he wants his reasoning back, but only after this is done. For once and for all.
“Why did you come here?” he asks, catching his fingers in the buttons of James’s fly as he fumbles to open it.
“Things haven’t been…”
The words get swallowed up in another one of those kisses that feel like lifesavers to Adam, although it seems far more likely that they’re pulling him down into the rip.
“Things haven’t been going so good. Needed. A friend.”
Backing into a corner, Adam slides down the wall pulling James with him, trying not to hear the little boy hurting words that tell Adam he is indeed the cunt that James said he was.
James hooks his arms around Adam’s neck and gives away more of that mouth to mouth while Adam finally wins the battle between his fingers and their fly buttons.
It’s a clumsy struggle, light on romance, but it’s worth it when they finally have a hold of each other.
They topple sideways, lying across the floor of Adam’s den, half on the pillows, the rest of them spreading out towards the fibreglass hatchway.
“Needed this,” says James in between sucking and biting at Adam’s lower lip. The kissing has moved up a level and Adam knows James’ll be raw when this is over. Their hands work together, crude and necessary, jerking, rubbing over each like they’re trying to leave scent.
He’s missed the feel of James’s cock, however much he tries to pretend to the contrary. It’s so good, so fucking good, so good.
“Adam. Oh shit, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t-"
Nathan’s in the doorway and he’s stopped talking, but he isn’t leaving either. Adam looks up for a second, catches a stare, but he’s too far gone to give a fuck. James breathes heavier, an extra rush of blood surging into his cock, the way it always does when he’s being watched.
“Like that, do ya?” murmurs Adam, too quiet for anyone but James to hear, his mouth only a fraction of an inch away from burning sore lips.
“Uh huh.”
Adam twists his fingers around the base of James’ steel-hard cock then squeezes fiercely. “Have you had him?”
“No,” groans James, subby as hell, eyes looking down in deference.
“Do you wanna have him?” asks Adam.
“No.” The word ends up as a kiss and they’re back to jacking and tongues, both of ‘em crazy as fuck turned on.
“Liar,” says Adam, pulling away and smiling. He feels as if he’s back in control, the way he only ever does when he has James right where he wants him. “It’s a good lie though,” he adds.
Nathan’s still there in the doorway, part guard, part voyeur. Adam can feel those brown eyes burning into him and his balls tighten in response.
Fisting James’s cock harder, he slides his hands down the back of James’s jeans, fingers searching the crack of his ass. He can’t do much without lube, but gentle rubbing is enough to get James thrusting and practically sucking the tongue out of his mouth.
The soft grunting sounds push Adam over the edge and he forces James onto his back and fucks into his fist, coming over him in these waves of pleasure and smothering all the noise with more harsh kisses.
When his breathing approaches normal, he remembers that somewhere in all this heaving rush of sex there was another man involved and he’s relieved to feel wet limp cock between his fingers and a wrung out body trapped underneath him.
By the time he remembers where he is and what he’s done and, more importantly, who’s been watching the show, there’s not a lot else he can do but roll over and clean himself up with some tissue.
Nathan’s looking flustered as hell. “I’m sorry,” he says, backing away from the crime scene, his eyes big and confused and Adam knows he means it.
The guy really is too sweet for words.
just how deep do you believe?
will you bite the hand that feeds?
will you chew until it bleeds?
can you get up off your knees?
are you brave enough to see?
do you want to change it?
Something about being with James makes Adam feel powerful.
They talk a little.
(“What happened to make you come running here?”
“I screwed things up with the band. No work. Usual shit.”)
They fuck a lot more.
(Wet bruised lips wrap around his cock, sucking him off like a pro while he’s waiting for wardrobe.)
And Adam would be happy as shit if he could find a way to sort things with Fillion. The man’s as skittish as a colt, staying away from him and twisting his fingers together nervously in between scenes. Adam thinks (hopes) it’s from wanting rather than hating, although the two can be much the same when you put him and Boreanaz together in the same room.
Nathan’s not David though. Nathan’s pretty and sweet and they work well with each other. At least they did.
Finally Adam gets his chance after shooting’s over for the day and he jumps on it, cornering Nate and resisting the urge to play a little.
“So now you know James and I fuck,” he says leaning back against the wall, his arms folded nonchalantly.
Nathan’s got apology written all over his face again, but that’s not what Adam’s after.
“There’s a motel out near Lancaster,” he says casually holding out a business card between two fingers.
He and James use the place sometimes when they want to fuck on a bed for a change.
“It’s private, no questions asked. We’ll be there tomorrow at ten if you wanna see more. Room 105.”
Seconds pass when they’re still and silent and they don’t even look at each other then slowly Nathan reaches out and takes the card.
so naive
I keep holding on to what I want to believe
I can see
but I keep holding on and on and on and on
Sometimes James lets him inside a locked door in his head and that makes Adam feel needed. Sometimes they talk while they’re fucking. Most of the time they just fuck as hard as they can.
“I got a surprise for you,” he says as he pushes James face down onto the expensive leather upholstery of the passenger seat of his SUV. Big man equals big car equals plenty of room to screw.
James thrusts back, taking as much of Adam’s cock inside him as he can manage. They both groan out some indistinguishable words and wait for the feelings to let go a little.
“What’s that?” asks James.
“You’ll find out tomorrow,” says Adam, bracing himself on one arm and beginning that slow slide to heaven while he traces patterns up and down James’s back with the tip of his finger then leans in to rest his lips against skin which is starting to smell like home.
will you bite the hand that feeds you?
will you stay down on your knees?
DONE