Happy Birthday Kate! - "Me thinks he doth protest too much"
It was a joke. There was no guessing that it was a joke; it just was. It was obvious to everyone who was there. That was how it was intended, and that was all it was.
Tom didn't even try to pretend it was a cover up for something more serious - a sneaky way of showing hidden feelings or some bullcrap. Because that would be pathetic.
They were playing their parts. There was an argument about James Bond of all things. Adam had said "Connery is the only actor of the bunch," to which Tom had replied "Timothy Dalton should get an Oscar and beat Sean Connery over the head with it!" making his best I'm-pissed-in-a-silly-way face. "Ok, that's it," and Adam's role was to wrestle Tom briefly until they were interrupted. (Tom was sure the wrestling had been included in the script on purpose and was directly related to the hand-holding/homophobia scene they had already finished filming.)
Adam, being hilarious and an attention whore, and also kind of odd, pretended to make out with Tom, (as if the wrestling had naturally led to it,) in that really fast, joking way people do when they're in front of a crowd. People, not Tom. Because gah, embarrassing. But Adam wasn't embarrassed. He jerked his hips and put his mouth all over Tom's mouth. Everyone on set cracked up. Danny was laughing much too loudly and doubling up and probably blocking the camera. And Tom fell backward and gaped, and stared, and wished the pressing of Adam's body against his own had lasted longer than a few seconds. Adam turned his head immediately to see everyone's reactions. Which is what it had all been about to begin with. Obviously.
Tom laughed weakly, and Adam grabbed his hand to help him to his feet. Grabbed his hand. Not that Tom was fixated or anything. Because he wasn't. But oh god, the number of times he had accidentally said "Adam" instead of "Warren" and made everyone have to reshoot. How embarrassing. Plaintively whining and pleading "but Adam..." Stupid.
Everyone must know. That's why Andrew got a bigger and bigger crush as time went on. That's why the writers were contemplating making Andrew actually be in love with Warren. None of this would have happened if they could have gotten Caleb Kane back to be the third Trio member. Maybe that would have been for the best.
Tom decided with certainty that nothing would change. He and Adam would still hang out, Tom would still go to CoRo gigs, they'd never speak of it again. And all would be right with the world.
He was home in the evening, and let Adam in, feeling queasy and cringey at the memory of being red faced and speechless, in front of everyone, lying there under Adam, being the only one not laughing, oh god.
Adam grinned and stepped in, bearing alcoholic gifts. He was already giggly-tipsy. "Hey." He kicked off his shoes and requisitioned a spot on the couch.
Pop-hiss of a drink, remote in hand, Adam stretched out and spread his knees comfortably. "Coming?" Tom joined him, looking small and curled up by comparison. He wasn't even aware of what was on the TV.
Adam cleared his throat, apparently unable to keep a straight face. "About earlier..." No! Dammit. Tom thought as loudly as he could that they had agreed never to speak of that again. Well, not agreed, so much as just not brought it up yet. But still.
"If that was, you know, out of line or -" he took another sip. "I didn't mean to make you the butt of a joke or some dickwad thing like that. I thought you'd think it was funny."
Tom glared at the coffeetable and sounded as nonchalant as he could. "Well everyone else did, so it's all good." He shrugged.
"No, no, I mean it," Adam laughed, possibly due to tension, "I wouldn't have done it if I thought you'd be uncomfortable -"
"It's not a big deal!" Haha. Because yelling will make him believe you. Tom mentally smacked himself. Which feels a lot like not smacking himself at all, generally speaking, but he did it anyway.
That's when Adam put down his drink, put his hand on Tom's knee and looked intently into his eyes. Not smiling anymore. "Just... tell me if I ever overstep my bounds again."
Tom nodded, lips parted, face blushing, probably looking every bit the part of the swooning little girl. He had trouble meeting Adam's eyes. "I didn't really -" Mind? Dislike it? Think about anything else for the rest of the day? "Uh."
Adam turned away, but he didn't remove his hand from Tom's knee, which was ticklish in the good way. He breathed for a moment, seemed to come to a decision, said "You can always speak up. And that includes now," and turned toward him again to rub Tom's half hard cock through his jeans.
Wait, ow, too dry, too fast, it really didn't feel very good at all, but at least Adam was touching him, and - oh jeez, Tom squeezed his eyes shut and waited for it to stop. At least he was getting harder. He thought about pushing Adam's hand away, saying something, but no, don't wreck it, maybe it'll lead to kissing. Why isn't there kissing? Why can't they start by rubbing their bodies together, skin on skin, ow, shit, fabric sucks. Tom vowed to become a nudist.
Adam kept going, all leaned over and breathing into Tom's neck. Not even looking. But squirming now and speeding up unconsciously. He got up onto his knees to hump against Tom's hip. It was a fetish thing, Tom decided. His first time, maybe. Should let him have his way, get it out of his system, it doesn't mean anything.
But jeez, stinging rubbiness, he didn't want to wait this out for however many minutes it took only to have to take care of himself afterward. He maneuvered around Adam's hand and hastily undid his own zipper. It was meant to be an invitation to come inside and poke around, but apparently Adam took it as his cue to jerk off. He touched his lips to Tom's neck and shook with each stroke, still breathing hard and defiantly not looking.
Tom leaned against Adam and willed him to kiss his neck harder, suck on it, something. He grabbed Adam's head to pull him closer, angled his chin up, desperate for the tingling he gets all the way to his crotch when his neck is touched just right. The brief shy forcefulness just made Adam buck harder and grunt, perfectly willing to keep going on his own.
Tom dredged up the courage to grab Adam's cock, the first part of a plan to get Adam's attention back on him, and Adam jerked forward and pressed against the skin above Tom's waistband, the soft part of his side, and came, gasping, up under Tom's shirt. He stayed in that pose, still, as if he was waiting to see if the sky would fall. His breathing was still heavy and strained when he backed away, detaching himself from Tom's neck and hand, and slowly wiped up with part of his shirt. He did up his pants.
He sat back and changed channels as Tom went to change his shirt. Seven minutes later, the show got funny, and Adam allowed himself to laugh at it. Two minutes after that, Tom was laughing too. When the show ended, Adam asked Tom how his trip home from work was, complained about traffic, asked for a second opinion on a song lyric, and Tom brought out wine when they ran out of beer. They both got very, very drunk.
That's when Adam decided to try sucking cock.
"I'm just gonna -" was how he began. And then he leaned over and opened Tom's pants. He took a hesitant lick.
Tom bucked upward. Yeah... You can't screw up licking. He closed his eyes and breathed deep. He could feel his cock strain and twitch and bump Adam's nose. Adam laughed.
He put in a valiant effort, sucking too hard and taking in Tom's cock all the way to his throat. Oh... Tom leaned back, threw his arm over his eyes, bucked his hips and tried not to think about grabbing Adam's head and forcing him down.
Adam backed off. "Ok, I'm freaking out here."
"No you're not, you're drunk." Tom kept his eyes covered. "You won't even remember tomorrow."
Tom took Adam's hand and manually wrapped it around his own cock. Adam grinned nervously, but didn't take his hand away. He stroked slowly. "I'm not... I never... Shit, dude. I don't even look at guys."
"That's ok." Tom grabbed Adam's hand to make it go faster. His cock jerked frustratedly.
"No, you don't understand -" Adam put his free hand on Tom's chest and tentatively petted.
"Yeah I do. I'm a girl. Ok? I won't make any noise, I promise."
Adam lowered his head and hovered much too long, inches away. His breath was hot.
Tom looked at him. "Close your eyes or something. Just - !" He leaned his head back again, re-covered his eyes, breathed. "It's a strap on, ok? It's a fetish thing." He pitched his voice a tiny bit higher. "Please Adam? It'll be hot. Do it for me?"
Adam laughed, and hesitated, then did as suggested. Soon he was licking all over and pressing with his tongue. Apparently the fantasy was working. He was getting into it, enthusiastically slurping, dripping spit on his chin, making good noises... Tom gasped and squirmed. He had already spent much too long that evening feeling half hard and unsatisfied.
But oh fuck, it felt good, and it had been a while, and Tom only had to peek downward to see the hotness of Adam, stretching his mouth, blushing to his ears, eyes closed and breath catching. Sucking cock. Oh, closer now. Pressure building, tingles starting in Tom's belly and heading to his cock. A few seconds. "Oh god..."
And Adam stopped. Everything stopped.
"Wha?! Keep going - !" Tom flung both hands down to take care of himself.
"But it... I can't..." Adam was staring disconnectedly and biting his lip in a panic. "You sound - " He watched Tom jerk off.
Tom watched Adam's eyes go from freaked to embarrassed to nervous and back to slightly horrified, and kept right on stroking, urgent and fast. He struggled to keep eye contact when his eyelids half closed. He got himself back to the edge of orgasm, panting and shuddering, and all at once Adam was on him, pushing him onto his back, holding his knees, humping against his ass, grunting into his face. The fully clothed mock-fucking was too much, and Tom threw his head back and came noisily, all over Adam's shirt.
He lay there gasping, intensely aware of the feel of Adam between his legs, the weight of him, the strength of his hands, the heat of his breath. He pressed against Adam and shivered with aftershocks.
When Adam started to speak, in the 'We need to have a talk' tone, Tom grabbed his head and kissed him hard. He looked him in the eye. "This doesn't mean you're gay. I won't tell anyone. I don't expect a relationship. I promise things won't get weird. You can still come over just to watch TV." There. That should about cover it. "And you don't have to write me a song." Adam laughed, and kissed him again before backing away and standing.
"I still can though right? What if I have one in mind?" He found a kleenex box and dabbed at his shirt.
Tom sat up and did up his pants. "Oh yeah? Like what?"
"Like... 'If I only do it after seven beer, does it still make me a queer?'"
Tom cracked up.
"'If I think of chicks when I come to play, does it really make me gay?'"
"The chorus has to go 'The answer is yes. You guessed as much. Me thinks he doth protest too much.'"
Tom didn't even try to pretend it was a cover up for something more serious - a sneaky way of showing hidden feelings or some bullcrap. Because that would be pathetic.
They were playing their parts. There was an argument about James Bond of all things. Adam had said "Connery is the only actor of the bunch," to which Tom had replied "Timothy Dalton should get an Oscar and beat Sean Connery over the head with it!" making his best I'm-pissed-in-a-silly-way face. "Ok, that's it," and Adam's role was to wrestle Tom briefly until they were interrupted. (Tom was sure the wrestling had been included in the script on purpose and was directly related to the hand-holding/homophobia scene they had already finished filming.)
Adam, being hilarious and an attention whore, and also kind of odd, pretended to make out with Tom, (as if the wrestling had naturally led to it,) in that really fast, joking way people do when they're in front of a crowd. People, not Tom. Because gah, embarrassing. But Adam wasn't embarrassed. He jerked his hips and put his mouth all over Tom's mouth. Everyone on set cracked up. Danny was laughing much too loudly and doubling up and probably blocking the camera. And Tom fell backward and gaped, and stared, and wished the pressing of Adam's body against his own had lasted longer than a few seconds. Adam turned his head immediately to see everyone's reactions. Which is what it had all been about to begin with. Obviously.
Tom laughed weakly, and Adam grabbed his hand to help him to his feet. Grabbed his hand. Not that Tom was fixated or anything. Because he wasn't. But oh god, the number of times he had accidentally said "Adam" instead of "Warren" and made everyone have to reshoot. How embarrassing. Plaintively whining and pleading "but Adam..." Stupid.
Everyone must know. That's why Andrew got a bigger and bigger crush as time went on. That's why the writers were contemplating making Andrew actually be in love with Warren. None of this would have happened if they could have gotten Caleb Kane back to be the third Trio member. Maybe that would have been for the best.
Tom decided with certainty that nothing would change. He and Adam would still hang out, Tom would still go to CoRo gigs, they'd never speak of it again. And all would be right with the world.
He was home in the evening, and let Adam in, feeling queasy and cringey at the memory of being red faced and speechless, in front of everyone, lying there under Adam, being the only one not laughing, oh god.
Adam grinned and stepped in, bearing alcoholic gifts. He was already giggly-tipsy. "Hey." He kicked off his shoes and requisitioned a spot on the couch.
Pop-hiss of a drink, remote in hand, Adam stretched out and spread his knees comfortably. "Coming?" Tom joined him, looking small and curled up by comparison. He wasn't even aware of what was on the TV.
Adam cleared his throat, apparently unable to keep a straight face. "About earlier..." No! Dammit. Tom thought as loudly as he could that they had agreed never to speak of that again. Well, not agreed, so much as just not brought it up yet. But still.
"If that was, you know, out of line or -" he took another sip. "I didn't mean to make you the butt of a joke or some dickwad thing like that. I thought you'd think it was funny."
Tom glared at the coffeetable and sounded as nonchalant as he could. "Well everyone else did, so it's all good." He shrugged.
"No, no, I mean it," Adam laughed, possibly due to tension, "I wouldn't have done it if I thought you'd be uncomfortable -"
"It's not a big deal!" Haha. Because yelling will make him believe you. Tom mentally smacked himself. Which feels a lot like not smacking himself at all, generally speaking, but he did it anyway.
That's when Adam put down his drink, put his hand on Tom's knee and looked intently into his eyes. Not smiling anymore. "Just... tell me if I ever overstep my bounds again."
Tom nodded, lips parted, face blushing, probably looking every bit the part of the swooning little girl. He had trouble meeting Adam's eyes. "I didn't really -" Mind? Dislike it? Think about anything else for the rest of the day? "Uh."
Adam turned away, but he didn't remove his hand from Tom's knee, which was ticklish in the good way. He breathed for a moment, seemed to come to a decision, said "You can always speak up. And that includes now," and turned toward him again to rub Tom's half hard cock through his jeans.
Wait, ow, too dry, too fast, it really didn't feel very good at all, but at least Adam was touching him, and - oh jeez, Tom squeezed his eyes shut and waited for it to stop. At least he was getting harder. He thought about pushing Adam's hand away, saying something, but no, don't wreck it, maybe it'll lead to kissing. Why isn't there kissing? Why can't they start by rubbing their bodies together, skin on skin, ow, shit, fabric sucks. Tom vowed to become a nudist.
Adam kept going, all leaned over and breathing into Tom's neck. Not even looking. But squirming now and speeding up unconsciously. He got up onto his knees to hump against Tom's hip. It was a fetish thing, Tom decided. His first time, maybe. Should let him have his way, get it out of his system, it doesn't mean anything.
But jeez, stinging rubbiness, he didn't want to wait this out for however many minutes it took only to have to take care of himself afterward. He maneuvered around Adam's hand and hastily undid his own zipper. It was meant to be an invitation to come inside and poke around, but apparently Adam took it as his cue to jerk off. He touched his lips to Tom's neck and shook with each stroke, still breathing hard and defiantly not looking.
Tom leaned against Adam and willed him to kiss his neck harder, suck on it, something. He grabbed Adam's head to pull him closer, angled his chin up, desperate for the tingling he gets all the way to his crotch when his neck is touched just right. The brief shy forcefulness just made Adam buck harder and grunt, perfectly willing to keep going on his own.
Tom dredged up the courage to grab Adam's cock, the first part of a plan to get Adam's attention back on him, and Adam jerked forward and pressed against the skin above Tom's waistband, the soft part of his side, and came, gasping, up under Tom's shirt. He stayed in that pose, still, as if he was waiting to see if the sky would fall. His breathing was still heavy and strained when he backed away, detaching himself from Tom's neck and hand, and slowly wiped up with part of his shirt. He did up his pants.
He sat back and changed channels as Tom went to change his shirt. Seven minutes later, the show got funny, and Adam allowed himself to laugh at it. Two minutes after that, Tom was laughing too. When the show ended, Adam asked Tom how his trip home from work was, complained about traffic, asked for a second opinion on a song lyric, and Tom brought out wine when they ran out of beer. They both got very, very drunk.
That's when Adam decided to try sucking cock.
"I'm just gonna -" was how he began. And then he leaned over and opened Tom's pants. He took a hesitant lick.
Tom bucked upward. Yeah... You can't screw up licking. He closed his eyes and breathed deep. He could feel his cock strain and twitch and bump Adam's nose. Adam laughed.
He put in a valiant effort, sucking too hard and taking in Tom's cock all the way to his throat. Oh... Tom leaned back, threw his arm over his eyes, bucked his hips and tried not to think about grabbing Adam's head and forcing him down.
Adam backed off. "Ok, I'm freaking out here."
"No you're not, you're drunk." Tom kept his eyes covered. "You won't even remember tomorrow."
Tom took Adam's hand and manually wrapped it around his own cock. Adam grinned nervously, but didn't take his hand away. He stroked slowly. "I'm not... I never... Shit, dude. I don't even look at guys."
"That's ok." Tom grabbed Adam's hand to make it go faster. His cock jerked frustratedly.
"No, you don't understand -" Adam put his free hand on Tom's chest and tentatively petted.
"Yeah I do. I'm a girl. Ok? I won't make any noise, I promise."
Adam lowered his head and hovered much too long, inches away. His breath was hot.
Tom looked at him. "Close your eyes or something. Just - !" He leaned his head back again, re-covered his eyes, breathed. "It's a strap on, ok? It's a fetish thing." He pitched his voice a tiny bit higher. "Please Adam? It'll be hot. Do it for me?"
Adam laughed, and hesitated, then did as suggested. Soon he was licking all over and pressing with his tongue. Apparently the fantasy was working. He was getting into it, enthusiastically slurping, dripping spit on his chin, making good noises... Tom gasped and squirmed. He had already spent much too long that evening feeling half hard and unsatisfied.
But oh fuck, it felt good, and it had been a while, and Tom only had to peek downward to see the hotness of Adam, stretching his mouth, blushing to his ears, eyes closed and breath catching. Sucking cock. Oh, closer now. Pressure building, tingles starting in Tom's belly and heading to his cock. A few seconds. "Oh god..."
And Adam stopped. Everything stopped.
"Wha?! Keep going - !" Tom flung both hands down to take care of himself.
"But it... I can't..." Adam was staring disconnectedly and biting his lip in a panic. "You sound - " He watched Tom jerk off.
Tom watched Adam's eyes go from freaked to embarrassed to nervous and back to slightly horrified, and kept right on stroking, urgent and fast. He struggled to keep eye contact when his eyelids half closed. He got himself back to the edge of orgasm, panting and shuddering, and all at once Adam was on him, pushing him onto his back, holding his knees, humping against his ass, grunting into his face. The fully clothed mock-fucking was too much, and Tom threw his head back and came noisily, all over Adam's shirt.
He lay there gasping, intensely aware of the feel of Adam between his legs, the weight of him, the strength of his hands, the heat of his breath. He pressed against Adam and shivered with aftershocks.
When Adam started to speak, in the 'We need to have a talk' tone, Tom grabbed his head and kissed him hard. He looked him in the eye. "This doesn't mean you're gay. I won't tell anyone. I don't expect a relationship. I promise things won't get weird. You can still come over just to watch TV." There. That should about cover it. "And you don't have to write me a song." Adam laughed, and kissed him again before backing away and standing.
"I still can though right? What if I have one in mind?" He found a kleenex box and dabbed at his shirt.
Tom sat up and did up his pants. "Oh yeah? Like what?"
"Like... 'If I only do it after seven beer, does it still make me a queer?'"
Tom cracked up.
"'If I think of chicks when I come to play, does it really make me gay?'"
"The chorus has to go 'The answer is yes. You guessed as much. Me thinks he doth protest too much.'"