When Tony Met Adam (Short Story)

by Suzanne Brockmann

  Adam pulled back at that, gazing up at him with an expression in his eyes that was impossible to define. “It’s not,” he said. He turned toward the door. “I can’t do this. I changed my mind. You should go.”

  Tony blocked him, putting himself securely between Adam and the exit, leaning against it to keep the actor from opening it and letting in the cold night air. “You don’t really want that.” What are you afraid of? He didn’t ask that. He already knew.

  “What I want,” Adam said, using anger to mask his fear, “is for you to shut the fuck up. And forget twenty minutes. I want you gone right now.”

  “Tough shit. You invited me here, I’m here.” Tony made himself laugh as he pushed himself off the door and pulled off his T-shirt. And then he laughed again, genuinely now, as Adam couldn’t hide his reaction to Tony’s work-sculpted upper body. He tossed his shirt on a table that sat by the door. He kicked off his sandals, and unfastened the zipper that had given Adam such trouble, and again, the look in the actor’s eyes was an unmistakable Sweet Jesus.

  “I’ve got three days,” Tony said. And he brushed past Adam, his arm against the warmth and solidness of the other man’s chest, then ambled down the hall that led to the rest of the apartment. “Let’s not waste ’em.”

  Adam followed the half-naked Navy SEAL into his kitchen.

  “I’d love a shower.” Tony glanced over as he randomly opened cabinet doors, searching for … the wineglasses. He took out not one but two, setting them on the center island, away from the sandwich crumbs, which brought them face-to-face. He smiled into Adam’s eyes. “Not because I need one.”

  Adam knew what he had to do. He had to get his keys and leave. Take a weekend trip to Vegas. Or Seattle. Or freaking Ft. Wayne, Indiana. Anywhere as long as it wasn’t here.

  He knew that he should leave immediately. Nothing good was going to come of staying, except for the fact that if he stayed, he was going to have sex—albeit the cheap, meaningless kind—for the first time in a very long time, with one of the most physically beautiful men he’d ever met in his entire thirty years of life.

  But instead of walking out the door, he stood there watching as Tony poured them both a generous amount of wine then set the bottle down, and picked up one glass, pushing the other only slightly toward Adam with another smile. “Ever since we met in Boston, well … Let’s just say certain scenes from Fifteen Minutes have moved into the must-watch-daily category on my laptop.”

  Of course. The quirky romantic comedy in which Adam’s character Nic had become an overnight Internet sensation, after a so-called friend hid a mini-cam in his shower.

  Adam finally spoke. “So you are a starfucker.”

  Tony thought about that as he swirled the wine in his glass and even gave it a sniff. “I guess that depends on your definition. You are a star, and you definitely invited me over here to have sex, so … On that level, yeah, that would make the label fit. But I didn’t give you my phone number because of Fifteen Minutes. In fact, I didn’t see it until after we met. I just … happen to like sex in the shower—for the intimacy of it. I like water, too. Navy SEAL, you know? And I really like the idea of having a good excuse to run my hands over every inch of you.” He held Adam’s gaze as he took a sip. “Mmm. Nice. But it’ll be even nicer if we give it a little more time to breathe. You just opened the bottle, right?”

  He didn’t wait for a reply. He set the glass on the counter, next to the one he’d poured for Adam, then headed down the hall toward the master bedroom. “I know you’ve got a bathroom with a shower in here somewhere …”

  If their roles had been reversed, if Adam were chasing Tony, he’d have peeled off his jeans before walking down that hallway, to give his pursuee something to look at. A reason to follow. He’d done something very similar during his second night with Robin, back when Robin was still insisting that he wasn’t gay. Of course, Robin had been desperate to remain drunk at all times, and Adam still wasn’t sure that he hadn’t been more intent on following the bottle of gin that Adam had carried with him, into the bedroom of the hotel suite.

  But, here and now, Tony was obviously into playing it more subtle—or maybe he was just being cautious before parading around naked in a place he’d never been before. For all he knew, Adam’s bedroom had floor-to-ceiling windows and the shades were pulled up.

  Either way, he still had his jeans on despite being unzipped. They weren’t particularly fashionable, certainly not designer, but they fit him extremely well, riding low on his narrow hips and revealing a tramp stamp, tattooed low on his back.

  It was a series of Chinese characters and Adam resisted the urge to ask what they meant—or what Tony thought they meant, which was probably more likely the case.

  Instead, he just counted to ten before following Tony down the hall. No point in looking too eager, even though he knew for sure that he wasn’t going anywhere. Not until Tony … how had he put it? Ran his hands over every inch of Adam.

  Yeah. No point in rushing off before that happened.

  As he went into his bedroom, he heard the sound of the shower going on.

  “This place is nice,” Tony said from the bathroom, raising his voice to be heard over the rush of the water. “I really like the layout. When did you move in?”

  No doubt he’d taken note of the boxes that still sat in the corner of both the bedroom and the living room. Adam no longer saw them, they’d been there for such a long time.

  “When I got cast in American Hero,” he answered, citing the movie that had been his first big break. In other words, he’d lived here for years. “Every now and then, I think about leaving. It seems stupid to unpack, just to pack it all up again. But then I stay …”

  Why was he telling Tony this? Why was he saying anything at all? What he really should do was walk into that bathroom and take off his clothes, get into that shower and get his rocks off.

  And then adios his ass out of here. As quickly as possible.

  But Tony appeared in the doorway, looking out at him. It was weird. He was so at ease—almost as if this place were his, and Adam the visitor.

  “Why’d’you stay?” Tony asked.

  Why did he stay? It wasn’t because he’d wanted to wallow in it—the fact that he’d been the happiest he’d ever been when Robin was with him here, even though most of the time he was so drunk that he’d called Adam Jules.

  “I don’t know,” Adam said. “It’s been easier to just … renew my lease.”

  Tony didn’t accuse him of being a freaking liar. He didn’t point and call him a loser who was in fact wallowing in his own pathetic, never-to-be-requited despair. Instead he nodded. “It’s a nice place,” he said again. “A little crowded though, with what’s-his-name’s ghost still lurking. You want to get your butt in here and exorcise the shit out of it?”

  Adam laughed his scorn. “You honestly think I haven’t tried that?”

  “If I had to put money on it, I’d say … Probably not lately. And timing’s pretty important.”

  “I didn’t invite you here to psycho-fucking-analyze me.”

  “The right verb’s in there somewhere,” Tony said.

  “And still you stand there, talking,” Adam countered. “You want it? Come get it.”

  “So … you like it rough.” Tony moved toward him, the light from the lamp on Adam’s bedside table gleaming and skittering and making shadows that leapt and emphasized his incredible arms and upper body.

  “Is there any other way?” Adam quipped, even though his mouth was suddenly dry.

  “Absolutely.” Tony stopped his advance well short of an invasion of Adam’s personal space, but then reached out and pushed Adam’s hair back from his face with the gentlest touch, cupping his cheek and chin, his hand warm against Adam’s face.

  He was so beautiful, with those crazy-blue eyes that were nothing like Robin’s. Who’d have thought blue could come in such a different shade? Adam found himself caught there, unable to look away.

  H
e saw Tony smile, saw him telegraph his intention to kiss him again, saw him take his time to lean down and brush his lips across Adam’s.

  It was practically chaste, but he didn’t stop it there. Tony deepened the kiss, licking his way into Adam’s mouth, but still keeping his own mouth soft. Adam found himself reaching for him, pulling him closer, his palms gliding across all that smooth, sun-bronzed skin, his fingers sliding through the softness of Tony’s hair.

  And then, God, they were both on fire, pulling off Adam’s T-shirt, and fumbling with the button of his jeans, even as Tony pulled him into the bathroom, where the shower still pounded down onto the tile. Tony was laughing as Adam peeled off his pants, as Tony kicked off his own jeans, and the sparkling sound echoed and reverberated in the room.

  Holy crap, the SEAL was hung like a porn star, but it was Tony who spoke as he smiled at Adam in the mirror. “Nice.”

  He put his arms around Adam, pulling him back against his chest, against the heaviness of his erection, sliding one hand down Adam’s abs as he held his gaze, still smiling.

  But then Adam closed his eyes as Tony touched him and it was … Not gentle. Jesus. It felt so good, the way he was stroking him. No, it sure as hell couldn’t be called gentle, but it wasn’t rough. It was … Joyful. It wasn’t a punishment, the way so many random hookups could be. Instead, it was a celebration.

  Adam opened his eyes to find Tony still watching him, still smiling.

  What the fuck was Adam doing? “I thought we were getting it on in the shower,” he said, but his words came out in a whisper.

  “This is really working for me,” Tony breathed back. “God, you’re hot …”

  And Adam realized that while Tony was in here before, he’d found his box of condoms, found his lube. Now he was using his free hand to cover himself and then … Adam had to brace himself against the counter as Tony pressed himself against him, as he used a finger to lubricate him, as he pushed himself—just a little bit—inside of him.

  And he pushed back hard against Tony, because, God, he wanted it to hurt, but it didn’t, it just felt so fucking great as Tony still stroked him, harder now, but no less joyfully.

  He heard Tony laugh, his breath hot against his ear. “Oh, yeah,” he said.

  And Adam knew what made this different from all those other random encounters, different even than the times he’d been with Robin. Everyone he’d had sex with had been taking. Using.

  Consuming.

  And Adam had been doing the same.

  But Tony—somehow—made the very same act seem like sharing. Giving.

  Loving.

  And God, what was wrong with him? A few minutes of hot sex with a new man, and he’d turned into a little girl.

  “I can’t give you what you’re looking for,” he tried to tell Tony, but he kind of blew it by coming in rush of heat and pleasure, and instead he said, “Oh, God, oh yes …”

  And Tony came, too, bucking against him, breathing his name, and it was beautiful to watch.

  But then there they were. Both breathing hard, Tony’s arms still holding him so tightly, as if he’d never let Adam go.

  Tony spoke first, as those eyes that were the color of a perfect summer sky found Adam’s again in that mirror. “Still want me to leave?”

  “Yeah,” Adam lied, still unable to do more than whisper. “Get the fuck out of here.”

  Tony laughed. “Tough shit.”

  And he turned Adam around and kissed him, then pulled him into the shower, where he used the opportunity to very carefully run his hands over every inch of Adam’s body, just as he’d promised he’d do.

  Friday, 18 January 2008

  His phone was ringing, the volume low but persistent.

  Tony sat up in the darkness, instantly alert, knowing immediately where he was.

  In Adam’s bedroom. In Adam’s bed. With Adam still asleep, warm and breathing steadily beside him.

  He knew, too, that his phone was still in the pocket of his jeans, where he’d dropped them on the bathroom floor hours ago. He slipped out of bed and went to find them.

  Light was coming in around the edges of the window shade, and he didn’t have to turn on the overhead to locate his jeans. But by the time he fished his phone from his pocket, the soft ringing had stopped.

  The time was 0608, and he had a missed call from …

  “Shit.”

  There was only one reason Chief Karmody would be calling him at this hour, and it wasn’t a good one. And sure enough, he’d left a message, short and sweet: “Ollie, ollie ox in free! Get your ass to base, T.V.”

  Tony pressed TALK to call the SEAL chief back, to let him know he had to make the drive not merely from his apartment in San Diego, but from West Hollywood, and that he was going to hit traffic at this time of morning, but then Adam appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes, his hair standing up.

  So Tony flipped his phone shut.

  “Let me guess,” Adam said, staggering over to the john and lifting the seat. “It’s your mommy. You missed your curfew and she’s pissed.”

  Tony laughed as he moved to stand beside him, as they relieved themselves together. He shifted slightly so that their shoulders were touching. “Yeah, you just think I’m that young, old man.”

  “Fuck you,” Adam said, but he laughed when he said it, and he didn’t move away. In fact, he leaned into Tony a little bit more.

  God damn it. The timing of this phone call couldn’t be worse. It would totally undermine everything he’d done here tonight.

  God, you’re good, Adam had breathed after they’d gotten out of the shower, after they’d gone into the kitchen for a snack and those glasses of wine. Tony purposely hadn’t spent much of that time talking—although if he’d known he’d be getting this call so much earlier than he’d anticipated, he would have recited his entire flipping life’s story, going nonstop, until he’d had to shut up because he was using his mouth for other things.

  Like he’d done when he’d pulled Adam back with him onto his big bed …

  You can stay the night if you have to, Adam had told him, but you can’t sleep in my bed with me. I don’t do that with star collectors …

  Except he’d fallen asleep with Tony’s arms still around him, after they’d made love for the third time.

  Not that Tony was intending to give in to Adam’s arbitrary rules anyway, not at this uncertain stage of the game. Not when Adam had whispered, just after they’d both climaxed again, just before he’d closed his eyes and slept, This doesn’t mean anything.

  Even though they both knew that it did.

  “I have to go,” Tony said quietly now. “And it’s a have to, it’s not a want to.”

  “Whatever.” Adam walked away from him, back out into the bedroom. “Make sure the door locks behind you when you leave.”

  Tony flushed then followed, scooping up his jeans and carrying them with him, slapping on the switch for the fixture over the bathroom mirror so that it would light the bedroom without being too bright. But Adam had already climbed back into bed, purposely burrowing under the covers.

  As if he actually thought Tony would just walk away without another word.

  On the other hand, maybe he did think that.

  “It’s my job,” Tony told the back of Adam’s head as he pulled on his jeans and did a mental inventory of the rest of his things. T-shirt and sandals, both in the front hall. That was all he brought inside with him. “I get the call and I go. That’s the way it works in the teams.”

  “What part of whatever did you not understand?” Adam turned only slightly to gaze at him over his shoulder, with that same bored and jaded look that he’d been wearing when Tony had first arrived.

  So Tony climbed on the bed and muscled Adam onto his back, easily putting both of the actor’s hands into a wrist lock over his head and straddling him to keep him from flipping over.

  Not that Adam fought very hard. But now he was looking up at Tony with the eyes of a stranger, not the
eyes of the man who’d recently sighed his name.

  Shit. If he’d known he was going to get called in this quickly, he would’ve kept sex entirely out of the equation.

  But okay. What was done was done. And the truth was, he just couldn’t make himself completely regret it.

  And wasn’t that an understatement?

  And God, the truth was if he’d had even just ten more minutes, he’d turn this hold into something more intimate. And he wasn’t alone in his wishful thinking. He could feel Adam, already hard again, beneath him.

  But he didn’t have time.

  “Here’s how it’s going to work,” Tony told Adam when he finally stopped trying to get free. “I leave here and you don’t say whatever. You say, Be aggressive out there. Or Stay alert. And I say, Always am, always do. And you say, Email me if you get a chance. And I say, I will. And I say, I will spend every fucking minute of my downtime thinking about you. And you believe me, because I haven’t ever lied to you. I never have, and I never will, Adam. I promise. And then you kiss me goodbye and—”

  “You are young,” Adam said with a scornful laugh, “if you think any part of the past few hours meant anything at all to me.”

  “I don’t think that,” Tony said quietly. “But I hope it did. And …” He laid it all out on the line. “I want you to know that, well, it meant everything to me.”

  Adam’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t blink. He didn’t move. He just stared up at Tony with those stranger’s eyes. And then he said, “Whatever.”

  Tony leaned down and kissed him, but it was like kissing a CPR-class dummy. So he stopped. “I gotta go,” he said.

  “Like I’m the one keeping you here,” Adam said.

  “You are,” Tony told him. “I hate leaving like this and … I’m sorry if what I said scared you.”

  Adam made a dismissive sound in the back of his throat. “Do I look even the least bit scared?”