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“It's not just music, either. There are a lot of movies and TV shows you've missed out on, too. I'll be glad to catch you up with some of my favorites – maybe make a movie night of it.”
There were a lot of other things John had missed out on as well, like the politics of a hundred different countries he didn't belong to, but Adam didn't feel comfortable making him think about those things yet, especially after he'd already explained their plan to him. Having his eyes closed for so long only made him wearier. It sounded absurd, but what John really needed was rest; something to calm his mind.
Adam uncrossed his legs and extended the knife to John with a slice of apple on the end. “Here.”
Although John grumbled and furrowed his brows at him, he still leaned over and took the offered piece of fruit between his teeth, eating it in one bite.
Knowing that he wouldn't be happy eating disgusting and flavorless hospital food after awakening from a nine-year sleep, Adam had thought ahead and brought a fruit basket with him on his next visit. As he sat at his bedside, he peeled and sliced one of the apples and told him about some of what he'd missed.
“I liked this one,” John muttered thoughtfully as he chewed, remarking on the song that was softly playing from the stereo cassette player on the table near the bed. “The words are relatable.”
Among the cassettes he brought with him was David Bowie's Diamond Dogs. Since the attack that put John in his coma, Bowie had released an astounding seven records, and an eighth was on the way. Rather than jumping straight to his most recent record, he began with one that John would be familiar with. It would be interesting for him to hear the progression of his style. Things like music and movies weren't a priority, but he wanted to keep him entertained while he was still in the hospital. It was better than allowing his mind to wander.
He cut off another slice and John took it from him when it was offered.
“I never thought about the words,” Adam admitted. Resting his hands with the apple and knife in his lap, he paused to listen for a moment. The song was The Man Who Sold The World. He understood each individual word, but, together, he wasn't sure what the song was about. If he had the time to pay attention to each line, he knew he'd have a better chance of understanding it. What caught his attention was its hypnotic guitar line and Bowie's ethereal voice.
Like many of his songs, there was something oddly sombre about it.
John said he found it relatable.
Adam wondered if it were already time to change the tape.
Absentmindedly, he put the next piece in his own mouth and was thrown back into the moment when he heard John give him a somewhat jealous-sounding grunt.
“Wasn't that supposed to be mine?” he asked.
Laughing, Adam stuck out his tongue. “Sorry,” he said, showing him his empty mouth. “It's gone now. I guess that makes it mine.”
John beckoned him near with a curled finger. There wasn't anyone around except for his sleeping neighbor, but Adam still looked around just to be sure before he moved his chair a little closer. As soon as he was within his reach, John grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. Almost as soon as their lips met, John tongue had somehow snuck its way into his mouth, evoking a startled sound from the back of Adam's throat.
Time stopped, suspended for the moments they were connected. He'd kissed John plenty of times since he'd awoken – on his forehead, his cheek, his lips – but he hadn't been the one on the receiving end yet. He felt relieved just knowing that John was awake and alright. He thought he couldn't get any happier, yet all the feelings from years gone by returned to him at the touch of his lips. His heart still remembered the last time John had kissed him, passionate and possessive. A little sadly, a part of him had become resigned to the possibility that he may never feel his kiss again or even sit comfortably within his gaze, and yet...
No, to become so happy was foolish.
John released him, leaving him feeling dizzy and overwhelmed. Though, having gotten good at concealing his thoughts, Adam was positive that he wouldn't be able to see it on his face.
A smirk quirked up the corner of John's mouth. “There. That's mine.”
Goddammit.
“John,” he warned wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Hm? What, am I wrong?”
He motioned for him to lean in again. Try as he might, even though he knew he might regret it, Adam wasn't able to resist him. As he leaned closer, John reached out and touched along his jaw delicately with his fingertips. With an unexpectedly light touch, he pushed his fingers through the hair held behind his ears and twined it around his fingers. He didn't tug as Adam thought he might, rubbing his thumb over the strands instead.
Even though his gaze seemed focused, his thoughts appeared to be elsewhere. “I'm glad you kept growing it out. It looks good. You look good, kid. You really did grow up...”
“As if I weren't already grown up the last time you saw me... I was an adult when you met me,” Adam muttered.
The way John smiled made Adam want to hit him.
“Still just as stubborn, too, I see. That's good. I like that.” Moving over a few inches, he nodded and patted a hand over the spot on the bed he cleared. “C'mon.”
He had to be kidding. More importantly, though, it was distressingly difficult not to obey that voice. There was something inherently appealing about the way John's rough voice commandingly curled around those words. Adam knew what had to be on his mind, but the hospital was no place for those sorts of things. But once his boss had an idea in his head, it was nearly impossible to convince him of doing otherwise.
“Boss-”
“Why so formal? There's no one else around right now. Come on... For old times sake, at least,” he said, playing innocent, pleading to him with his one eye. The way he said it, it was almost easy to believe that he was just fooling around, but Adam could tell that it was something more than that. As Bowie's dark lyrics crept through the back of his thoughts, he realized that it might be a long time before they even saw each other again. He'd waited nine years, but he was going to have to leave him again – leave the person he'd waited for.
It didn't sound right, but that was what they planned. It was already decided. Because that was the way things had to be, he accepted it. There was no other choice.
“You shouldn't be over-exerting yourself,” Adam reminded him, yet still, he set what he was holding on the table and got on the bed with him, sitting down at his side. He was still feeling stubborn, but John was undeterred. Grabbing him by the wrist, John pulled him down. Caught off guard, he tumbled backwards and ended up laying over him with his back against John's shoulder, his arm thrown over his chest. Instinctively, he began to sit up but was held in place by a surprisingly strong arm around his waist. “You should be resting...!”
John nuzzled his nose against the side of his neck, making him shudder ticklishly. “It's fine. I won't tire myself out. You, on the other hand...”
Before he could even think of a proper response to resist him with, he felt John's lips against the curve of his jaw. Any thoughts he held were abandoned, and, instead, only a pathetic curse made it past his lips. He hadn't been that close to him in years. It was almost too much to believe; feeling John's hands on him, being held by him, feeling the reassuring strength of his arm wrapped around his waist, and the warmth of his breath ghosting over the sensitive underside of his jaw. Making a curious sound, John loosened his scarf with his other hand and tugged it down enough to expose his neck. The best Adam could do was swallow and pretend that he wasn't as turned on as he felt as John's lips moved to his throat.
Who was he fooling? The years he spent working on perfecting the most flawless poker face meant absolutely nothing in such a situation. If he could see his own face, he knew that he would've looked like a shameless mess, falling apart with each open-mouthed kiss John laid to his skin. It was a good thing he had a penchant for scarves, otherwise it would've looked suspicious if he suddenly started hiding his neck. He was a forty-year-old man. It had to be ridiculous for a man of his age to receive love marks, but God be damned if he wasn't going to wear them proudly.
It was ridiculous, for sure. He wasn't excited. He shouldn't have been excited.
But he was definitely excited.
“John...”
The sound of his laugh went straight to his dick. He could feel it as it rumbled in John's chest, felt it as a breath of hot, moist air against his skin. “Sorry, kid. I gotta have my fun while I can. Think of this as a going away present.” His lips stopped moving and he paused for a moment, considering something. Adam's head already felt too fuzzy to think ahead and figure out what it was he had on his mind. “Are you even going to remember this, though?”
So that was what he'd been thinking...
“A part of me will, I'm sure,” he said. Craning his neck enough to nudge his cheek against John's, he reassured him, “Everything I forget will still be there. Even this.”
John nodded his understanding. “Alright. I get it. That's a good way of looking at it. So then,” he murmured, both of his hands slipping over Adam's hips, sliding up, caressing his lower stomach through his clothes. “If that guy over there is going to be my phantom, then I'll be the ghost in your dreams.”
“You make it sound like I'm going to have some interesting dreams.”
“I'll see to it,” John said, his answer confident.
The fingers innocently resting over his waist began unbuttoning his shirt, beginning from the ones above his belt without even sparing a moment to untuck it. Adam struggled halfheartedly to free himself of his grasp, telling him that they shouldn't be doing anything in a place where their privacy wasn't guaranteed, but those protests faded as he felt John's cool fingers touch the warm skin of his waist. Unconsciously, he sucked in a breath and took his excuses back in with it, swallowing them.
He was always stubborn. He was too stubborn. It was because of that attitude that he'd missed so many opportunities to have John in the past. Pretending to have a sense of modesty made him pass up what was really important to him.
The truth was, he didn't care about things like what was right, and the thoughts of others had no importance to him.
“John.” His name came from his mouth again without any purpose. Even to his own ears, it sounded like he was pleading.
That name was what he wanted. John.
“Give me more credit, Adam. You know I can be creative when the situation calls for it. As a soldier, one of the first things you learn is that you don't need to take your clothes off to have fun.” His fingers halted halfway through pushing a button through the hole as he realized that he was already essentially undressing him. “Well, this much is fine. My hands were going to be sad if they didn't get to touch you a little.”
More questions were on the tip of Adam's tongue, but he wasn't able to voice any of them before he felt one of John's hands moving lower. He had wondered how John intended to have 'fun' with him without removing his clothes, but the lower his hand crept, the clearer his answer became. John's eye was on him and he could feel it burning through him, but Adam kept his face turned aside, refusing to make eye contact with him as John's hand closed around his clothed cock. Having lost himself to the sudden, erotic nature of the situation, he couldn't help it that he'd already become hard.
As John gripped him through his clothes and rubbed his hand over him, Adam gradually allowed himself to relax. It wouldn't have been strange for the nurse to walk in and check on one of them. If that happened, he decided that he would meet her eyes confidently and take responsibility for the lewd sight they made.
To his dismay, the hand between his legs disappeared quickly, skirting up to meet his other hand on his chest. Turning on his side slightly, Adam finally looked up at John's face. “I'm not cutting off the circulation in your arm, am I? This doesn't seem very comfortable for you.”
He was still resting halfway on top of him with one of John's arms trapped under him. It would've been one thing if they were comfortably in bed somewhere else – wherever 'home' would be. At the moment, their awkward position seemed like a bother.
John flashed him a smile. “I'll let you know if I stop feeling my fingers. Why don't you concentrate on feeling them instead?”
For a guy who had been asleep for nine years, he was still awfully sharp. That old part of Adam wanted to find a good comeback to throw in his face, but he couldn't think about anything except the feeling of John's hands as they pushed open his shirt. Finally, he untucked it to get it open the rest of the way, leaving his chest and abdomen completely exposed to the air. The room was cool, but his skin felt super-heated, his temperature rising with his pulse. For a naïve moment, he thought that he had himself under control. Then he felt John's mouth on his ear and he involuntarily released one of the most embarrassing sounds the world had probably ever heard.
“...Hey, was that-”
Of course it was too much to expect John to just ignore it. “I... I didn't just meow, alright? That's not what you heard!”
John nodded. “Yeah. You're right. It was more of a yowl than a meow.” Sensing that he was about to embarrass him into a coma, he quickly added, “I didn't know you'd like it that much. You have sensitive ears?”
It was the first time anyone had ever touched his ears like that. It wasn't his fault. He had no idea how he would react to it until it was too late. “I don't know,” he muttered, lifting a hand to rub at his ear. “Just... Try to warn me before you pull any more sneak attacks like that, alright?”
Brushing his lips against the side of Adam's face, he chuckled softly. “Alright. I'll avoid the ears for now. I should've expected that a wildcat's ears would've been his most sensitive spot... Makes sense.”
Adam had been surprised as well. Little did John know, that wasn't his only sensitive spot. Suddenly, he found himself sweating more as he realized what a conspicuous situation he was in. John was the type who preferred a quick and dirty fuck which usually aligned well with their availability, so he wasn't used to being paid so much close, careful attention. John was extremely dangerous once he figured out what he should be doing, so he was very worried by the thought of him having the time to figure out what excited him the most.
Quietly, he heard John release a breath, consequently helping him relax as well. John's hands moved back to his hips where they rubbed lazily over his waist, just above his belt. The waist of his pants were too high, and Adam found himself throwing aside better judgment, wishing that John would unbuckle them so he could feel his fingers against his hips and lower stomach. There was something good about that spot, even if it didn't seem like an obvious sensitive spot.
He couldn't find the right voice to instruct him with, so he held his tongue between his teeth and simply watched as John explored every inch of his exposed skin. For some reason, he kept expecting him to end back up where he started, but his hands continued traveling higher, his spread palms stroking his stomach, his fingertips brushing along the protrusion of each rib, until, at last, he placed both palms over his chest.
Another one of those sounds was threatening to force its way up from his throat as John moved his hands, but he forced it down. Closing his eyes, he just told himself to breathe and focused on what he was feeling, trying to anticipate his movements. Pretty quickly, he realized that that wasn't going to help him.
“Another weak spot?” John asked, lightly groping his chest. His mouth returned to his jaw, just below his ear.
Feeling weak, a groan fell from Adam's lips and he shifted his legs, rubbing his knees together, his cock responding to the ways John massaged the muscle beneath his palms. Each time the heel of his palms rubbed over his nipples, he had to bite back another one of those sounds, but he couldn't catch all of them. Here and there, little helpless mewls began to slip through. He wished that he could cover up his ears so he wouldn't have to listen to himself, ashamed that he wasn't able to show more restraint in front of the person he still admired most.
There was no point in trying to hold back. He knew that John was aiming to make him come undone, and he was damn near close to doing it. It would satisfy John to hear his voice, to know that he was doing something right, but Adam was still too proud. His whole body felt hot with embarrassment.
Through the haze crowded around his thoughts, he absurdly prayed that the one on the other side of the curtain wouldn't be able to hear them.
“So this really is a weak spot,” John crowed smugly, pressing the pads of two fingers over his nipples, rubbing them in a circular motion.
Adam's knee-jerk reaction was to elbow him in the gut, but he managed to control himself by bracing his arms at his sides and curling his hands into fists. Even through his gloves, he could feel the bite of his nails pressing into the palms of his hands. Clicking his tongue in frustration, he finally relented and forced himself to relax, locking one of his legs around one of John's. He carefully slid an arm around John's chest, feeling like he needed to be mindful of John's condition for him when he wasn't.
“What's this? Are you surrendering?” John asked, a warm murmur near his ear. “That's a good boy.”
“Shit, John-”
He couldn't just go saying things like that. It was a direct attempt on his life. He was going to give him a heart attack, talking like that.
“Shut it. You love it. Loosen up and enjoy yourself a little.”
He had a point. In a few more seconds, he could tell that he wasn't going to even have any fight left in him. It had been so long, he'd forgotten what it was like to relax around him. Having to carefully navigate conversations with those he interrogated, he needed to build an impassable wall within himself. It was a difficult thing to deconstruct, so, even as he tried to bring it down himself, it distressed him how easily John was able to break through it. It was distressing, but also impressive.
The hand he kept at his side fisted the hospital sheets. “I'm going to miss you... And I won't even know that I miss you.”
“Good,” John said, his teeth grazing his skin as his lips shaped the word. He rubbed his fingers over his nipples more firmly, then rolled them between his fingers until they were red and hard. Noticing the way that Adam's knees pressed together to try to find some relief for his trapped cock, one of John's hands briefly left his chest and slid between his legs again. Cupping his palm around him, he stroked him as best as he could with a layer of clothing between them, drawing gasps from him that slowly escalated, growing in volume.
Once again, his hand disappeared right when Adam had almost lost himself to the feeling of it around him. He groaned and moved his hips, but all John did was laugh as he brought his hand back up to his chest. The nipple he'd been teasing was already feeling too tender, steadily sending sparks of a painful pleasure through him as John continued to work it between his thumb and forefinger.
The moment he let himself glance down and watch what John was doing, he felt heat consume him at the sight of his large hands working his chest. Too many times in the past, he'd caught himself staring at those hands, and too many times, he'd imagined being touched by them. Though this wasn't the first time, the memories of previous encounters were always there when John wasn't. With sad certainty, he could say that memories weren't as good as the real thing.
John stopped squeezing them for a moment and allowed him to take a breath. Placing his open palms over him, he massaged his chest as he nuzzled the side of his throat. Adam didn't even have to look at him to know what a self-satisfied smirk he must've been wearing, proud to see him squirming around on top of him. After teasing him, it was hard to believe John wasn't going to be expecting some kind of repayment, regardless of what he told him in the beginning.
As his breathing slowly returned to a normal pace, he felt John brush the heel of his palms over his nipples, pressing down in a way that made him arch his back, a fierce jolt of lightning-like pleasure striking him when he was at his most vulnerable. After being allowed to relax, he was left feeling even more sensitive. It felt good, but it was reaching the point where it was too good; the point at which his senses became overloaded with intense sensitivity.
He clenched his fists again, growling to mask the pitiful, pained moans that wanted free. Gasping his name again like a warning, he moved the arm he had around John to grip his thigh. He hoped that he did it hard enough to get the point across and was glad when he heard an acknowledging groan from the one beneath him.
“I already told you, didn't I?” John said, devilishly rubbing his nipples between his fingers. “I'm not undressing you. If you're gonna come, you're gonna come just like this.”
“You've gotta be kiddin-”
He was serious. All he had to do was glance back for a second and see the look in his eye to know that he was being serious.
John wanted to make a mess out of him.
And the more he rubbed at his chest, the harder he found it to care. His body was already ready to surrender even if there were a part of his pride that desperately tried to hold on. That part was being overshadowed – drowned out by the throbbing sound of his own pulse in his ears. His skin was tingling, burning, making him wish that he could throw away common sense and take everything off, but John wouldn't have allowed that, even if his own pride became weak enough to allow it.
It was too much. Rather than admit it out loud, he just let out a broken gasp that finally gave way to anguished moans as John continued to pinch and tease his tender nipples. Someone was going to hear. Someone definitely had to be able to hear him. Yet the thought of that seemed to only make him feel harder.
“John,” he cried, gripping his thigh harder. He didn't know what he was asking for when he opened his mouth, but there was a clear plea for something in his voice just like before.
Any more and he wouldn't be able to think anymore. It was already difficult. He could've saved himself from the situation – gotten off the bed or told him to stop – but that wasn't an option to him. They'd already gotten that far, and he could tell... Any second-
“John,” he said again, more insistently, moving his hips, trying to grind back against him, seeking for some way to satisfy his aching cock. At the sound of another one of John's laughs, warm and amused, white hot light exploded behind the backs of his closed eyelids. The next time he tried to say John's name, it came out as a fragmented shout that was barely recognizable as a name. The laughing at his ear continued until the last of it hit him, leaving him a hot, limp mess on top of him.
A simple look down confirmed what a real mess he was in. The front of his pants were totally ruined.
Acting considerate, John began rebuttoning the front of his shirt. As he laid there, half of his body still thrown over John, Adam wondered why he ever seriously worried about the man. There had to be a lot of weighty things on John's mind, but he was still capable of acting like a kid without any self-control. Perhaps that was the true reason to worry about him.
Just when he was prepared to reprimand him, the door opened.
One of the nurses nervously peeked inside like she knew there was reason to be cautious. The second she saw the position they were in, the door slammed shut.
John was unfair. He really knew how to ruin his life.