Craving | By : Nevoreiel Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > AFI Views: 1391 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of AFI. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title: Craving
Pairing: Adam/Hunter
Rating: R
Summary: Adam can't concentrate on his music, help is in order.
Disclaimer: Consider this a lucid nightmare. Never happened and never will.
Warning: RPS slash.
Notes: Part of my "Challenge Me" experiment. For fivil who requested – Adam/?; fear, pummel, indulge.
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They were all friends, the four of them, living most pleasantly together. Like all good friends they had arguments and sulked around the house for hours before finding common ground. But there was never any fear of the band breaking up over a silly disagreement.
The days were passing agreeably, sitting outside in the last sunny days of August when not working on the new album. Hunter and Adam had the task of thinking of the backing melody for the tracks Davey and Jade had tinkered with. It was a challenging task but there was nothing more wonderful than sitting at their instruments throwing about ideas.
Adam sat at the drums, gulping coffee, eyes sleep-lidded, and his body sagging back. He lazily tapped a beat with his foot, listening to Hunter strum out a bass line. It was only noon but Adam had downed four cups already, acutely feeling the few hours of sleep he caught and the fact that they were inadequate.
Eyes drifting shut, he was awakened when Hunter tapped him on the head with one of his drumsticks. Starting, he shook himself and grinned lopsidedly in apology.
Hunter raised an eyebrow, "Had a long night?"
"Maybe," Adam smirked.
"All right, keep your secrets." Hunter sat back on his chair, bass in hand. "Try out some rhythms for this; we’ll see what sounds best."
Adam beat out a steady rhythm, tapping on the risers, trying out varying combinations. Everything sounded the same to him, a din of white noise, not even remotely close to what he’d like it sound like. Head starting to pound with the same even rhythm, Adam pummeled the drums discordantly before throwing down his drumsticks in frustration.
Hunter stopped strumming, looking up in surprise. "What’s up with you? If you’d like to do this another time, just say the word."
Adam scrubbed at his face, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I think I need more coffee."
Hunter snorted, "If you have any more, you won’t be sleeping this night either."
Scowling, Adam trudged to the kitchen to pour himself more coffee, calling out to Hunter as he went, "I’ll be the judge of that. Plus we need to keep up with the melodies Jade throws at us"
Shaking his head at the empty room, Hunter went on strumming tunelessly, idly.
Adam returned, tightly gripping his cup, sipping occasionally, and livening up a bit, the hot liquid burning down his throat.
They tried playing together one more time but the extra cup did not seem to help and Hunter heavily insisted that Adam try to sleep now and play later.
Reluctantly agreeing, Adam pulled himself to bed, falling bonelessly on it and rolling over to stare at the ceiling. His head felt full of ideas and he was unable to grasp what caused this lack of concentration, thoughts jumbled and confused. Something was missing.
Beyond the wall he heard muted singing and guitar music, interspersed with laughter. The air conditioner hummed soothingly, but Adam could not stop his racing thoughts.
The light in the room slowly dimmed, shadows sliding over the walls, the sounds next door ceasing – Davey and Jade gone for a break. He closed his eyes when he heard his door being opened slowly, Davey’s voice drifting in softly. The door clicked shut and the footsteps retreated.
Adam lay, passing the time in a half-dazed state, between waking and sleeping, hearing the sounds of life beyond his door. He awoke when all sound stopped, the house asleep.
As quietly as he could, he crept to the kitchen for another cup of coffee, head heavy. Feeling the stifling heat, he decided to make use of the spacious backyard. Maybe breathing some fresh air would clear the clutter in his mind.
The air, indeed, was chilly and a small breeze cooled his face, bracing and fresh. He found a lone beach towel, folded haphazardly in the garage. He laid it out on the grass and lowered himself to lie face up. The sky was dark and cloudless, a few lone stars peaking out in the industrial smog and light pollution. He inhaled deeply, the pounding in his head lessening.
Adam was so relaxed and lost in thought that he did not hear the quiet footsteps approaching.
"Still can't sleep?" Hunter's voice broke the relative silence and startled Adam.
"No," came the simple reply.
Hunter sat on the edge of the towel and Adam moved over, leaving a spot for him. They lay in silence, enjoying the strange lack of sound.
Turning his head, Adam gazed at Hunter's profile. He turned back to the sky, speaking softly, "I remember when my parents took me on a trip to the countryside, a change of pace from the rowdy city life. The first night I was startled to look up at the sky and see actual stars, hundreds of them, twinkling in the dark; nothing but stars. I've never seen so many of them since." Hunter harrumphed sleepily in response, the silence continuing to stretch.
With Hunter so near, Adam's thoughts tumbled about even faster. It was the darnest thing, this strange agitation.
"Hunter?"
"Hmm?"
"Nevermind."
Adam thought Hunter to be asleep when he felt his friend's cool hand slip into his, fingers wrapping around it. He stayed still as Hunter turned onto his side, pressing close to Adam, one arm falling loosely on his chest. He thought Hunter to be dreaming; there was a nip of teeth at his neck and Adam realized that he was not.
He was tentative with his question, "Hunter, what are you doing?"
In answer, he received a sloppy kiss on the lips. His frantic thoughts instantly ceased whirling. Hunter pressed against his hip and Adam felt the hard arousal, like a brand to his skin, making him harden in sympathy. Or maybe it had something to do with the long-fingered hand slipping into his jeans and grabbing him firmly, tongue writhing like a caged thing in his mouth.
Something broke inside Adam and he realized that this had been plaguing his mind, just this hot press of flesh and sex with abandon.
With this new realization, Adam pressed back fervently. Getting a grip of his hips, Adam pulled Hunter firmly under him, hovering like a shadow above him.
Hunter was pushing his own jeans down and helping Adam with his own, thrusting a tube and a small package into his palm.
It was too fast. It was not fast enough.
With greedy, but mindful, fingers, Adam stretched Hunter, drinking in the moans of passion. The night air did nothing to cool their fire, the towel bunching underneath as they writhed and scrabbled.
Ohgodohgod, spilled from Hunter's lips as Adam pushed into him, legs wound around his waist and head thrown back.
Adam couldn't see the healthy flush to Hunter's skin but he could feel the heated tingle under his hands as they glided anywhere and everywhere at once.
They melded together from lips to hip, Adam basking in the sensations pouring over him. It took them no time at all to spill messily, Adam sheathed in Hunter's tight heat and Hunter without even being touched. They fell apart, panting.
It was a chore to do their jeans back up, limbs sluggish, but it had to be done.
There was a peaceful calm in Adam's head, heart thrumming with a new rhythm. Sated and sleepy, he indulged himself, holding Hunter close. It hadn't been coffee he'd been craving after all.
End
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