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Unhealthy Obsession
Michael loved these parties. He liked the flirting with everyone that walked in the door, practically everything that moved. He laughed at himself and finished the bottle of beer he’d gotten with M.C. Hammer when he’d had his picture taken with the cast of some new reality show the WB was doing. He wasn't drunk though, not even close. This was just fun.
He wandered around, mingling, chatting with different people that he knew from the other WB shows. Michael glanced around, looking for some of his fellow cast mates, but he didn’t know of any of them were even going to be here. He’d heard that Tom was maybe in town, but he hadn’t seen him, and Allison tried to show up for these things when she could.
Tom’s loud, boisterous laughter that only came out when he was either really amused or really drunk surprised him. He heard it from across the room. He looked over and spotted him talking to some guy Michael didn’t recognize in a suit. From the sound of Tom’s voice, he guessed it was the latter.
Making his way through the sea of bodies, Michael sauntered up to Tom and clapped him on the shoulder.
“Tom,” he said, greeting him happily.
“Mike,” Tom shouted, a little louder than he probably should have. It confirmed Michael’s earlier thought that Tom was a little drunk. He grasped Michael’s arm and looked at him for a second, grinning hugely. Michael brought his hand up to Tom’s chest, just because he could, and laughed.
There was a flash and they both looked towards it. Some photographer – official from the looks of his pass – gestured so Michael wrapped his arm around Tom and Tom squeezed back, grinning for the camera. Tom wobbled for the briefest of seconds, but Michael felt it and steadied him with a hand on his belly just as a second picture was snapped.
The camera guy moved on, but Tom didn’t move his arm, so Michael didn’t either. He liked it when Tom got touchy feely.
“Tom, man, let’s hit the bar. I could use another drink. Mine seems to have gotten lost.”
“Great idea! I was just thinking that I needed another myself.”
It was off to their left, and Michael tried to pull away, not really wanting to let go of Tom, but he thought it was best if they didn’t clutch each other, especially in public. He had finally extricated himself from Tom by the time they’d made it to the bar, and they both ordered.
That was another good thing about these parties; free booze. He ordered a beer and Tom ordered a Long Island ice tea. Michael shook his head. They weren’t supposed to get *really* drunk at these, their PR people always had lists of how they were supposed to behave.
If Tom was going to keep drinking like that, maybe Mike needed to make sure he got back to his hotel or something.
“Hey, Tom, I have a question.”
“Yeah, Mike?”
“How long you think we need to stay here? We’ve already had our pictures taken. Wanna take off?”
“Sure! Where are you staying?”
“Same hotel as always. What about you?”
“I haven’t gotten a place yet. I wasn’t supposed to be here, but I changed my mind at the last second.”
“You could crash with me.”
“Cool.” Tom sipped his drink.
“I’ve got a car, too.” Michael offered.
“Let’s go. This party blows,” he said, grinning.
Michael had to laugh. Sometimes that smile of Tom’s just cracked him up.
He tipped his head back and took the last couple of swallows of his beer and set it on one of the tables nearby. He watched the adam’s apple bob in Tom’s throat as he swallowed his drink. Michael chided himself as they made their way to the door. He *had* to stop doing that.
The valet found his car pretty quickly and before long they were on their way to Michael’s hotel. The little black BMW that he’d gotten from the rental place drove beautifully. Smooth and sleek, just the way he liked it. Tom sprawled in the seat next to him. He seemed perfectly at ease, half of a smile on his face, and Michael grinned. Tom was gorgeous when he was completely relaxed like that.
“I had a fight with Jamie, you know.”
Michael let off the accelerator for a second, before answering. “No, I didn’t know. What did you fight about?”
“You.”
Michael almost stopped the car. “What? Me? Why?”
Tom looked at him like he was the crazy one. Michael could see him out of the corner of his eye. He tried to concentrate on the road. He slowed and stopped at a red light. One hand rested on the gear shift and the other on the steering wheel, and he turned to look at Tom.
Tom hadn’t answered. He was staring straight ahead out the window. “I seem to have an ‘unhealthy obsession’ with you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Green light.”
Michael looked up and hit the gas. Tom still wasn’t answering him. He shifted down and made a right turn into the hotel’s parking lot. He stopped the car at the valet sign and looked at Tom again. “Are you going to elaborate?”
Tom sighed. “She says I talk about you all the time. And that we spend more time together than she and I do.”
“I. Uh. What?”
“Nothing. I think she’s just feeling neglected or something. I have no idea.”
Michael leaned over to the glove box and opened it before pushing a button inside to open the trunk. He turned and his breath caught in his throat. Tom was eyes were on him now, the look on his face full of want and need.
“Tom?” Michael was whispering now.
“Yeah?” His voice was husky and Michael jerked back to his side of the car and gave Tom an odd look.
This was too weird.
He opened his door and tossed his keys to the valet. Michael made his way to the rear of the car and pulled his overnight bag from the trunk. He convinced himself he was misreading Tom. He *had* to be. Couldn’t let himself think that Tom was actually coming on to him.
But that look…. Nah. No way, had to be reading Tom wrong. He slung the strap over his arm and looked up at Tom, smiling brightly. And then he realized that Tom didn’t have any luggage. Or anything to sleep in. Or clothes to wear tomorrow.
“Hey, do you need to go somewhere to pick up a change of clothes?” Michael thought he’d better ask quickly before the valet took off with his car and he had to wait for it again.
Tom shook his head. He’d been silent since that husky voice that Michael didn’t want to think about. “Don’t worry about it. I’m good.”
Michael nodded. Even though he *was* worried about it, and he didn’t want to think about Tom just wearing his boxers to sleep in just a measly few feet away in the next bed.
The automatic door admitted them into the hotel lobby and Michael made his way inside with Tom following him. At the front desk, he gave them his credit card and signed.
Tom gave him a funny look and elbowed him, but didn’t say anything. Michael just kept smiling and took the key from the desk clerk. “Thank you.”
Once inside the elevator, Tom looked at him again with that same funny look he’d gotten at the front desk. “Jack Cooper? Why did you just check in with that name?”
“It’s my character from my last failed WB sitcom. Remember ‘Zoe, Duncan, Jack and Jane’?”
Tom laughed. “I don’t remember watching that. How long was it on the air, again? I know you’ve talked about it before. That was the one with that kid from ‘Big,’ wasn’t it?”
“It was a lot of fun. That’s David Moscow. He’s hilarious. We were on two seasons, but they were both short and we only did about as many episodes as one year of our show.”
Tom nodded and smiled again, that big smile that Michael couldn’t help smiling back at, that one that made things twist in his stomach, especially when it reached Tom’s eyes and Michael had to look away and look at the numbers above the door telling them where they were.
This may have been a bad idea.
When they’d finally reached the room, Michael used his key to open the door and held his breath.
He should have asked about the beds. The really large king-size bed spread across the room. Michael let out the breath he was holding and tried not to panic. He could handle himself in a bed with Tom. He really could.
“Oh, man, sorry, Tom. We can switch rooms.”
Tom pushed in behind him and Michael realized he was standing in the doorway.
“Why? I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.”
Michael shook his head. He was going to behave himself.
“I don’t have any shampoo or anything either. I guess you didn’t bring any.” Tom snickered.
Michael fought to think rationally. “Go raid the maid’s cart. Or you could go buy some in the gift shop. You need to plan ahead, Tom.”
“I wasn’t supposed to come to this. Or stay here. But after that fight with Jamie, I don’t want to go home. At least not yet.”
Michael nodded. He shrugged his bag off his shoulder and went in search of the remote. He sat on the end of the bed and tried not to think about sleeping in it with Tom.
Tom sat next to him and their thighs brushed against each other. This was getting ridiculous. Michael was slowly going insane. He thumbed the buttons on the remote, turning on the television, and started to change channels. After settling on some kind of sports show, he stood and stretched. “I’m gonna hit the bathroom, and then head to bed. I’m worn out.”
Absent nodding was the only response. Tom seemed engrossed in the television. Michael sighed and twisted by the younger man to the tiny little bathroom. He looked in the mirror and laughed at himself.
This *crush* or whatever it was, had to stop. He could get through a very innocent night with Tom in the same bed without embarrassing himself. Too much was involved to let anything get in the way. The show, their friendship, Tom’s marriage. Besides, Tom was straight. Very, very marriedly-straight. Definitely not gay. Not curious, not anything. Straight.
And whatever vibes he was getting from Tom were friendship. Friendship. He repeated the mantra to himself as he dried his hands.
Tom was already in bed when he got out of the bathroom. The television was off, and Michael flicked the light off as he made his way across the room. He shrugged off his pants and pulled his shirt off, leaving everything to pile on the floor except his boxers. His boxers stayed on. They were safe.
Tom had taken the side closest to the door, so Michael crawled in the other side. Under the covers and onto his side, facing away from Tom, he closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing.
He was entirely unprepared for the heat of skin against his back. Michael stiffened. “Tom?”
Breathing in his ear, Tom whispered back, “Mike.”
“What? I mean, uh, not that I mind or anything, but what are you doing?”
“I didn’t wear my wedding ring tonight. Did you notice?”
Michael turned over so he was facing Tom. He couldn’t see him, it was still dark and his eyes hadn’t adjusted yet, but he could feel Tom’s breath on his face. “What are you talking about?”
“I think she was right. I am obsessed. I…”
“Jamie?” Tom was obviously not thinking straight. Michael snorted at his own thoughts. Obviously not if he was cuddling with him.
“I think about you all the time. I don’t know what else to do. I’ve spent hours just thinking about licking that hockey scar you’re so damn proud of.”
“Tom, wait.” He put his hand out, to stop him from getting closer, or to just get some kind of idea where he was, Michael wasn’t sure. The tips of his fingers brushed across an already erect nipple and Tom groaned.
Michael knew he wouldn’t be able to resist this much longer. “Tom,” Michael repeated weakly.
And then those lips were on his and Michael gave up protesting. He hadn’t really wanted to protest in the first place, but he stopped thinking when Tom’s tongue probed his upper lip.
He could only moan in response and open his mouth. Thick, slick and Tom was licking inside, tasting, memorizing maybe, and Michael never wanted it to stop. Especially when Tom’s chest met his, flushed skin, hot against his own, and a hand came up to rub across his mostly shaved head.
So sensitive, and Tom knew that because they’d discussed it once, and he was going directly for the bump at the back of his head. Michael couldn’t help it when he bucked against Tom’s thigh.
He was hard already, and a vague thought of whether Tom was or not flitted through his head until he felt the grind of hips into his own. Dear God, as if he had to ask.
Michael pulled away, panting. “Tom, think about this.”
“I have. I don’t want to think about anything any more.” He brushed his hand across Michael’s stomach. “I want to touch you. I want you so bad.” Another grind and that drove any stray thoughts out of his already accepting brain.
It felt so good, hard cocks only separated by thin fabric, sliding against each other as they thrust mindlessly. Michael had thought about this for so long, he was sure he was not going to last very long. It was *Tom* and just that thought had Michael shuddering.
He panted heavily and he couldn’t control it anymore, or the thrust of his hips. His hands smoothed over taut flesh, mindlessly rubbing, touching as much skin as he could. Hard muscles stretched and contracted underneath his fingertips, Michael groaned into Tom’s shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Tom,” he whimpered. And immediately, he bit his lip. He couldn’t sound desperate, or beg, or let Tom know just how much he wanted this.
“God, Mike. So perfect.” Tom reached a hand down brushed his knuckles around Michael’s cock, still hidden by the cloth of his boxers. And then the fingers were inside and bare skin was touching the bare skin of his dick and he had to take in huge gulps of air.
This was going to kill him.
“Good,” he breathed. Tom kissed him again, covering his mouth and thrusting his tongue inside. Heavy weight on his chest, comforting and exciting as Tom rubbed against his thigh, the friction the best thing in the world at that moment.
Fingers still grazing the inside of his boxers, seemingly hesitant to just grab like he wanted, needed. Michael grabbed Tom’s hand with his own and rubbed his cock against it. Still not enough, but before he gave up and tried begging, fingers wound around and gripped gently.
A moan escaped before he could stop it. Tom built up a slow, steady rhythm, pumping Michael’s dick in an almost familiar way. He could feel Tom’s cock rubbing against his thigh, slick and wet from pre-come and him groaning into his shoulder.
Delicious thrust into Tom’s waiting hand and it felt so much better than he’d ever imagined. Tom’s mouth was on his, pulling coherency from him as he felt everything pooling in his belly, guiding him to his impending release.
A strangled noise escaped as he stiffened and rocked into Tom’s hand, finally coming when the younger man whispered his name.
Breath coming in harsh gasps, Michael didn’t want to move, didn’t want to think, or do anything. Instead he concentrated on the insistent cock rubbing against him. He whispered words of encouragement, urging Tom faster with hands to his hips and a tongue in his ear until the other man finally groaned loudly and came in hot spurts against Michael’s already flushed skin.
Their breathing filled the silence. Tom shifted away, but not too far, only to grab the corner of the sheet to wipe them off before wrapping his arms and legs back around Michael.
“Thanks,” he mumbled into the pillow, before pressing a kiss to Michael’s temple. “I…Michael?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re okay?”
“Very okay.”
“Good. Me too.”
Michael nodded and sighed and tried not to think about where this put them. The harsh light of morning could do that all by itself.
[ main l rps l fps ]
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