Chapter 2

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ADAM

ADAM BARNES raced about his bedroom, snatching up discarded clothing and shoving it all into his hamper. He honestly couldn't remember which items were clean and which were dirty, so it was better to play it safe and plan on washing it all. But that could wait until tomorrow. The important thing at the moment was to make sure his room was tidy.

Because John was finally going to spend the night. Adam let out a squeak of excitement, grinning so hard that his cheeks hurt. Eeee! He couldn't wait.

They'd been trying for months to make that happen—all five months that they'd been together—but things kept getting in the way. Even when their schedules did align, it was easier to go to John's house, where they were guaranteed privacy. That night, though, everything had aligned perfectly.

It was Saturday, so it wasn't a work night for John. Adam had worked an early shift instead of a late one, so he was home already rather than getting off after John's habitual bedtime. Plus he'd lucked out and managed to switch shifts with a coworker so he wouldn't have to work tomorrow at all. And Adam's roommate, Haven, was spending the night with his boyfriend, Theo, so Adam and John would have the apartment to themselves.

Everything had to be perfect.

Out in the kitchen, his phone was blaring out a playlist of his favorite songs. "Viva La Vida" by Coldplay came to an end, and then Adam heard the opening sounds of "My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark" by Fall Out Boy. Adam gasped and ran for the kitchen. He snatched up his phone, cranked the volume as high as it would go, and sang along, belting out the lyrics. His neighbors could probably hear him, but he didn't care. He needed to sing.

It wasn't remotely like being on a stage with a band. Padding around his apartment, singing along to the tinny speakers of his phone, simply paled in comparison. But it was something. Just enough to scratch the itch deep down in his bones, since the high from his last real show had long since worn off.

Adam grinned as he sang, thinking about that weekend. Just before Christmas, he'd gotten a call out of the blue from his old garage band. He'd sung with them all through high school back in Idaho, then went along for the ride when the band decided to go touring across the country, taking gigs wherever they could find them. But that was after Adam's dad died. All he'd wanted back then was to get away from Idaho and all the crushing memories.

So he'd tried to hide in the music, but it hadn't worked. All through the trek west and south, making their way through Washington, Oregon, and northern California, Adam had felt like he was living on autopilot. Going where the band went. Doing what they wanted. All to try drowning out his grief and guilt.

They spent a couple weeks in San Francisco, then continued south. They'd intended to make it all the way to Santa Barbara in one day, but traffic out of the city had been a nightmare due to accidents and road construction. They only made it as far as Paso Robles, a small town in central California, when they decided to crash for the night and continue on the next day.

Adam still wasn't sure what made him decide to stop there for good. Paso Robles looked like nowhere. Just another Anytown, USA. Regardless, when the band got up the next morning and got ready to continue on, Adam felt a sudden urge to stay right where he was.

It was a rough parting, leaving the band without a lead vocalist. Still, it was for the best. Adam knew he was dragging down the band's energy with his grief. After a long argument, the band headed off to Santa Barbara and who-knew-where else, and Adam stayed in Paso Robles and slowly but surely built a new life for himself.

Maybe it was fate.

Over the years, Adam and the band ultimately reconciled over the phone, but he had no intention of leaving the town he now called home. Then, this past Christmas, the band's latest singer had gotten sick, so they needed someone to fill in. Despite the show being back in Idaho—a mere short drive from his old hometown—Adam had jumped at the chance to perform again. To be in front of a mic again? With a real audience? He hadn't been able to resist.

And it had been amazing . Adam did a little dance about his kitchen, still singing along to his phone as he recalled the pure bliss of being on a stage. It was a small one, but it had been enough. It was the first time in years that he'd felt that kind of high.

It was also the first time in years that he'd laid eyes on John.

Adam gasped. Speaking of John! He ran back to his bedroom and scanned it again, making sure nothing was out of place. He'd gotten better at being tidy since he and John had gotten together—always hearing John's voice in his head, telling him to actually put things where they belonged—but sometimes he slipped. Especially after a long week of not getting to see the man.

A tingle ran through him when he saw how clean his room looked. John would be so proud.

The timer went off in the kitchen. Adam grinned as he raced across the apartment, snatching up a pair of potholders when he reached the oven. He pulled out the lasagna, then quickly set it aside when he heard a knock at the front door.

John! Adam kicked the oven shut and ran for the door. He yanked it open, a big grin on his face as he took in the sight of the man standing there.

Oh fuck . John looked downright hungry, and not necessarily for food. The man nearly filled the doorway, his tall frame and broad shoulders making Adam feel tiny. And he loved that feeling. There was nothing sexier than having John manhandle him just because he could.

John stepped inside and set down his overnight bag without looking, his gaze raking over Adam instead. He blindly pushed the door shut behind himself, then lifted each foot, one at a time, to unlace his work boots and set them aside, never breaking eye contact for even a second.

Adam shivered. The whole, silent process felt almost predatory. Like John was quietly stalking his prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Adam squeezed his legs together as a flood of heat rushed to his groin, making him pulse with need. Oh fuck . If John didn't get inside him in the next thirty seconds, he thought he might die.

"Don't stop," John said, his voice barely audible over the music.

"Stop?" Adam panted.

A soft smile pulled at one corner of John's mouth. "I heard you singing." He grabbed Adam by the hips, hooking his fingers through the belt loops of Adam's jeans. "Don't stop," John repeated. "Don't ever stop. Christ, that voice of yours…"

Adam swayed towards him. He tried to get his mouth to work, but no sound came out. How could he concentrate on singing when all his blood had rushed away from his brain, leaving him dizzy with need?

"Please," Adam managed to whimper.

"Yes?" John asked, his warm breath ghosting over Adam's lips.

"Please," Adam repeated, pressing closer to John and rubbing against him. He felt the hard outline of John's cock against his belly. " Hhng ."

John chuckled. "Are you rubbing yourself on Da–" John broke off and flinched, then quickly shook his head and continued, "On my cock?"

Adam winced at the aborted D -word. John knew that Adam would never be able to call him Daddy , no matter how much John wanted to hear it. And a part of Adam really wanted to say it. For John's sake. Sometimes, Adam even had trouble stopping himself from speaking the word aloud.

But then he'd hear the memory of his own voice in his head, screaming that word over and over in a hospital waiting room.

Adam's chest heaved as the panic began to set in. No, no, no, no, no!

This was happening more and more lately. He'd thought he was long-since over the grief of losing his dad. Hell, it had been nearly nine years since Dad died. He should have been well past it.

But he kept having these little moments when the grief suddenly sprang up all over again and threatened to consume him.

John grabbed Adam's head with both hands and kissed him.

Adam gave a jolt of surprise, then let out a sigh and sagged in John's arms. Somehow, that always worked. John kissing him gave his brain some kind of short-circuit that silenced all the screaming in his head. Adam grabbed John's wrists, holding on while the man dominated his mouth.

"I'm sorry," John murmured. "I'm so sorry, baby. That was my fault. I had a hell of a day and I'm tired, so I wasn't thinking, and it almost slipped out. I'll try harder, I promise."

Adam slowly nodded while he took a moment to catch his breath. Then John's words really caught up with him, and he looked up at the man from under his eyelashes. Hell of a day, huh? That usually meant some truly epic sex as John worked out his tension on Adam's body. "Too tired to fuck my brains out? Hell, even just a quickie before dinner gets cold?"

A grin spread across John's face while a low, primal growl sounded in his throat.

Oh, fuck. Game, on.

John straightened to his full height, looking down his nose at Adam. "Go strip. Get on the bed. Ass in the air."

Adam moaned, feeling his legs turn to jelly beneath him. "Y-Yes, sir," he gasped, then stumbled off to do as he was told.

He heard his phone go silent, the music cutting off abruptly mid-song, as he dove into his bedroom and scrambled out of his clothes. Adam shoved his jeans and underwear down all in one go, then kicked them aside before flinging himself onto the bed. He hated that he couldn't take off his shirt, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Top surgery was never going to happen.

Adam contorted his arms, trying to reach back and tuck his shirt up under the hem of his chest binder, then finally gave up and threw himself into position when he heard John's approaching footsteps. He pointed his ass towards the doorway so that would be the first thing John saw. Then he turned his head to the side and pressed his shoulders into the bed, trying to use his own body weight to flatten his chest even more.

He spread his knees and couldn't resist rocking his hips, humping nothing but air. A shiver ran up his spine while he waited. It wasn't like that night, nine years ago, when Adam had snuck into John's bed and subsequently got thrown out. John was actually going to touch him this time.

The thrill of that feeling never got old.

Finally, he heard John enter the room, and another low growl reached his ears. Oh fuck. John clearly liked what he saw. Adam humped the air again, desperate for John to get closer.

He whimpered, heart racing in anticipation as he listened to the soft sounds of clothing being removed, folded, and set aside. Damn it . How could John be so neat and methodical at a time like this?

Adam heard John spit, followed by the slick sound of a cock being stroked.

"Oh fuck," Adam gasped.

"So needy," John murmured.

Then the room went completely silent.

Adam gasped when John's hands suddenly groped his ass.

"Christ, you're beautiful," John murmured right before he climbed up onto the bed between Adam's spread legs. The man drew a teasing, wicked tongue across Adam's slick flesh, all the way from his tiny dick to his ass and back again.

Adam moaned, sagging into the bed, wondering if his shoulders and knees would be able to keep him up when John's touch made him feel like goo. Then John dipped a finger into Adam's slick hole. Just the tip. Barely enough to tease him. Adam whimpered again. "Please!"

"Please, what?" John asked before nipping at Adam's left cheek with his teeth.

"Please," Adam panted. "Fuck. Cock. In."

John chuckled and moved up to blanket Adam's body with his own, leaning down to murmur, "That bad, huh? My talkative boy can't even speak?"

Adam could only moan in response and point desperately at the nightstand.

John chuckled again as he nuzzled behind Adam's ear. "You bought condoms? You know I'm always prepared."

"Just in case we ran out," Adam managed to say.

John growled again. "Oh, planning on marathon sex, huh? Fuck." John shot forward, flattening Adam onto the bed, and reached for the nightstand.

Adam moaned, feeling John's naked weight on top of him. The man's cock was nestled against his ass, wedged right between the cheeks, so close but so far from where he wanted it. He opened his eyes, mentally willing John to move faster as he watched the man grab the drawer pull.

Then John froze.

Adam panted, waiting, but still John didn't move. What the hell?

John's hand trembled as it inched away from the drawer and up to the nightstand surface, his fingertips barely grazing the name plaque on the urn that sat there.

"Christ!" John shouted as he ripped himself off Adam and tumbled onto the floor.

"John?" Adam twisted around and watched the man snatch up his clothes before racing into the bathroom and slamming the door shut. The loud bang made Adam flinch. He sat there, blinking dumbly, as he looked from the urn to the bathroom door and back.

What the hell just happened?