FicWad

Chapter Five

"Where are you guys taking me?"

The blindfold Alex wrapped doubly around his eyes was tight enough that he couldn't see anything; the fabric too thick to make out any details. It was a little itchy as well, but Miles wasn't going to complain about that.

"Just hang tight," John told him. "We're almost there."

Miles let out a sigh and sunk further into the back seat of the cab. He was stuffed in between two of his co-workers en route to some unknown location for a bachelor party they'd planned. "This better not be one of those seedy strip joints you guys like to go to."

"And what if it is?" Alex snapped. Judging by the tone of his voice, he sounded slightly offended.

The brunet sat up and leaned forward, speaking in the general direction of the taxi driver. "Don't take off right away. I'll be needing to get the hell out of here—" His attempt to escape was short-lived when John pulled him back.

"Ahh…don't worry about it." Only a few short moments later, the cab had slowed down, veered to the right and stopped completely. "We're here," the senior designer announced.

John handled the fare while Alex led Miles safely out of the cab and onto the sidewalk. He waited for John to join them and the two brought the man of the hour inside before taking the blindfold off. Miles fully expected to have been taken to some rundown, sordid establishment, but what he saw when the fabric unraveled was far from it.

"Well?" John had a smile on his face running from ear to ear.

Miles could only stare in disbelief. "You guys didn't…?"

"You can thank Adam for this," Alex told him and pouted a little. "I wanted to go to the sleazy strip joint."

"Speaking of Adam..." John moved ahead having spotted the blond sitting in a booth with Ben. "There you guys are." Now Miles was the one smiling from ear to ear. He slid into the booth next to Adam who scooted over to give everyone enough room. "Looks like you started without us." Adam had a beer in hand, one empty mug sitting in front of him and Ben had a pint as well.

"We just couldn't wait," the brit said, flashing him a cheeky grin. Not a few seconds after they were seated did the waitress come to take their drink orders.

"So," John began, getting comfortable in the booth, "is this place nice or what?"

"If I have known Adam chose it, I wouldn't have worried so much." The two men glanced at each other across the table and Miles gave him a wink as John spoke up.

"Now you don't have to go home smelling like a strip join. This place has too much class."

"He will be going home drunk off his ass, though," Alex added.

"What does Ali think about this anyway?" John wondered. "You havin' a night out with the guys, booze coming from left and right, naked girls within arms reach…"

"Well," Miles sighed, "she tells me she's okay with it. Actually, she doesn't even say that, but I know she would prefer otherwise."

"She shouldn't worry. She's got a good man on her hands," John replied. He gave the brunet a hearty slap on the back and directed his attention to their junior. "It's Alex you gotta keep your eye on."

Off behind them in the lounge area, a saucy little number sauntered onto the stage, swaying her hips, covered with fishnet stockings, her midsection bare and her breast nearly spilling out of the skimpy piece of black satin fabric for a bra. "God, is she fuckin' hot," Alex growled, eyes glued to the leggy redhead parading around in what were most likely at least five-inch heels. "Tell us you'll at least get a lap dance," Alex said, turning back to Miles.

The brunet hesitated to answer, shaking his head. "I don't know…"

"Come on! That's like a no-brainer. You can't have a bachelor party and not have some broad with a hot ass and huge tits rubbing against you!" Miles wavered at the thought, but Alex hardly gave him much time to come back with an answer. "If you aren't getting one, then I am." He turned to Ben. "How 'bout you?"

The brit set his mug down. "I'd rather it be the bartender"—a younger, well fit lad he'd spotted immediately coming through the door—"but I suppose I wouldn't mind having a pair of tits in my face."

"Good man," Alex declared. Just in time, too; the waitress returned with their drinks. The younger, junior designer lifted his mug in cheers. "To Miles!"

~

"Just one!" Alex, who'd gotten a couple of shots in him after the beer, was literally pulling Miles out of the booth. It was time for that lap dance. "You gotta! We're here to celebrate your last week as a free man!" Ben, who sat next to Miles, leaned over to give him that extra nudge.

"Have a go," the brit said, "if not just to shut him up…"

The two were already headed for the lounge, but Alex, over his shoulder, called out and pointed to Ben as well. "You too!" John joined them, leaving Ben and Adam straggling behind.

"Are you coming?" Ben asked.

"Uh, yeah…I'll be right there," Adam told him. "I gotta take a leak, though." He wasn't sure if Ben could see right through his facade. The blond was in no mood to join the festivities and needed to take things moment by moment. Much to his disappointment, the night had gotten increasingly depressing. For now, he really would make a beeline to the restroom, but only after the brit left. Adam finished off the rest of his drink, unfortunately not as affected by the alcohol as he wished he could be. Ben disappeared shortly after, much to his relief, sauntering behind the other boys.

All he really needed was a moment to gather himself, which he managed to do so in the bathroom. Tonight was much more difficult than he could have ever imagined; a testament to the fact that he was going to lose his best friend. The more they reminisced about the past, when things were right, when things were just him and Miles, the more difficult it became to bear. If only it could have been ten years earlier; five, even. Adam wondered if he would have the guts to confess back then, but he dismissed the thought and moved through the lounge to the bar instead.

He managed to get through another beer and ordered something a bit harder. Just as the bartender moved away, a hand came down hard on his shoulder. "There you are," Ben said, sitting on the empty stool next to Adam.

"How was the lap dance?" the blond asked, feeling a little unsteady now. His eyes were slightly glazed over, glimmering in the soft light above the glasses stacked against the wall.

"Not bad, actually. I still wish it was the bartender." The young man behind the counter heard this and Ben flashed him a wicked grin, only to receive an odd look in response. He just laughed it off as the bartender moved in the opposite direction to finish tending to another patron. "Aren't you going to have one, too?"

"I think I'll pass," Adam said.

The brit shrugged, "Suit yourself," and snatched up a small, thin black stirring straw from behind the counter to chew on. "It's a shame you missed it. Miles refused when that woman had her ass on his lap. I have to admit, though. He's a trooper. She'd at least gotten her top off before he let Alex take his seat."

Adam couldn't help but snicker as he imagined it. That sounded like Miles; so shy, so innocent. The thought was short-lived when the bartender passed him his drink. He must have unknowingly been wearing his heart on his sleeve. Ben seemed to be able to see right through him.

"How are you holding up?" By the softer, more concerned tone in his voice, it was apparent.

At first, Adam said nothing; a bit shocked – and…not so much – by the question. Ben was the only person who knew what was going on inside that head of his. He'd practically forced it out of him, after all. Of course it was going to be obvious; like he needed to ask anyway. The answer should have been just as evident. Off alone getting sloshed at the bar was usually not a good sign; not for what should have been such a happy occasion.

"I can't keep doing this," Adam said outright.

"Doing what?"

"Pretending I'm happy for him."

"You mean you're not?" Ben teased, but it earned him a glare. "Sorry, go on."

"…Nevermind," Adam grumbled and turned to slide off the stool. He was not in the mood to joke around.

"Wait," Ben said, moving after him. The blond maneuvered his way through the lounge over to the booth. He was really feeling the alcohol now, swaying a bit as he slowed to climb onto the seat. "I said go on."

With a drink still in hand, a bad idea, mind you, Adam fumbled a little in his awkward position. Just as it played out in his mind, the amber liquid swished about, spilling over the rim onto the table, enough to leave the glass about half full.

"Damnit," Adam hissed. He'd gotten some on his hand and wrist, too.

"Ahh, don't worry about it," Ben said and turned to wave down one of the waitresses. There wasn't anyone around, however; the stack of napkins on the other table would have to do. Adam set the glass down and wiped what he could off while Ben tended to the table.

"I'm done," Adam declared as he sat down hard, heaving a heavy sigh. "I can't do this."

He hadn't realized it, but Ben had stopped cleaning the table seconds before. Now the brit was just staring at him, obviously churning some plan in that mind of his. Adam was not expecting to be pulled right back out of the booth. Ben dragged him across the room, pushing through the men's bathroom door which slammed loudly against the wall behind it. The brit went for the first stall only to find that it was occupied.

"Sorry." So was the other one. "No worries," he said, smiling sweetly as he continued to drag Adam behind him. The women's restroom was right next door.

"We can't be in here!" Adam hissed, pulling a little against the force of Ben's grip.

"Oh, don't be such a baby." For safe measure, the brit locked the door behind them. "How many women have you seen in here other than the dancers? I'm sure they have their own loo in the back anyway."

"Why did you have to lock the door then?"

"So I could do this," Ben hummed, and moved to close the distance between them. Adam's back pressed against the door as he was cornered. He went stiff at the sudden closeness; his heart jumped into his throat when a hand grazed over his cheek but it wasn't just the palm brushing gently against his face that he had to worry about. It happened before his brain could even register what was going on. The kiss was soft; on Ben's part, and surprisingly so. Adam hardly knew how to respond. He'd forgotten to breathe, even. "What's wrong?" Ben's voice was low as he pulled away. He lingered closely, close enough that Adam could still feel his hot breath.

"You're asking me what's wrong?" the blond finally replied. Maybe he was just trying to buy some time. It earned him a bit of a smile.

"Yes. You are the only other person in here."

Again, Adam stumbled over his thoughts. He was trapped in between the door and the brit and he didn't exactly feel like running. He just needed to catch his breath.

"I wasn't expecting that," he confessed, doing his best to avoid eye contact. Whatever had transpired between them in the last week was much bigger than he expected.

"You looked like you needed a distraction," Ben murmured. Why did he have to be so God damn right all the time? He didn't need to think much more about the situation he'd found himself in. It was all instinct. He crushed their lips together this time of his own accord. The brit took Adam in his arms even as his lips throbbed from the pain and led them back, swinging him over to the counter. Being in the women's restroom, it was a bit lower, easier to pick the blond up and sit him on.

"What about the guys…?" Adam asked in between breaths.

"What about them?" Ben had pulled his collar back, kissing at his exposed neck. "They're busy enough," he murmured, nipping a little at the sensitive skin. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips at the gasp that escaped the blond.

"…We can't stay in here. Someone will notice the door is locked." Adam didn't seem to care much about this revelation. He hadn't pushed Ben off of him just yet. He did have a point, though. Eventually, someone would need to use the clean white facilities that smelled faintly of lavender. He'd never been in a woman's restroom before, but it was nice.

The brit was reluctant to pull away, as was Adam. He fixed his disheveled clothing when Ben convinced himself to stop before things could escalate and adjusted his excitement. When they were presentable, Ben unlocked the door and looked to the blond as he jumped off the counter. Their gazes met briefly before Ben stepped out. He strolled back to their table, snatching up both their coats. "Come on."

"Eh…?"

"Don't look at me like that," Ben said, shrugging his coat over his shoulders. "We're leaving." He was halfway to the entrance with Adam on his tail when the blond finally caught up.

"Where are we going?"

The brit pushed through the door and threw up a hand, waving down a cab. Adam, meanwhile, stood huddled behind him; his breath billowed into the cold air. A couple of taxis went by before one finally stopped. Ben pulled open the back passenger door, waving Adam in. The blond was thankful to be out of the chilly night air and slid inside. It wasn't normally this cold in April.

Ben scooted in beside him, telling the driver where to go. As the cab drifted into traffic, the driver too focused on driving to notice what was going on in the back seat, a wayward hand slid over Adam's thigh, starting at the knee. Ben gave him a side-glance and a bit of a smirk. He wasn't really going to do that in the cab, was he? The further that hand snuck up the length of his thigh, the more it became apparent that Ben surely intended to. Adam swallowed a thick lump down his throat, twitching when those fingers brushed over the fabric at his groin. How could Ben stare so nonchalantly out the window and tease him like that? Bastard. He would have to put up with it for a good fifteen minutes. Having recognized the address as Ben's place, it would take at least that long to get there.

-

The both of them fell hard against the mattress with Ben's weight on top of Adam. They'd shed their coats at the door, tossing them at the couch as they stumbled through the apartment, nearly tripping over one another. They never once broke for air; not until they hit the bed and Ben pushed himself up on his hands and knees over the blond. He slipped his shoes off, letting them fall somewhere on the floor at the foot of the bed. Once he'd found a little more comfort, Ben began to work at the buttons of Adam's shirt, but having the blond on his back made it more difficult to pull off as they came loose.

"Damn this thing," Ben cursed and let it hang open. He hadn't noticed it at first, but one of the buttons popped off, too.

Adam could hardly care about it and chuckled at the brit's failed attempt, sitting up to take those lips again; his hands trailed down that long torso, one finger hooked in the waistband of Ben's slacks. He got a little help in his attempt to get inside those trousers, having fumbled at first.

"Anxious are we?"

"Shut up," the blond growled, grabbing a handful of Ben's collar to pull him back down. Adam ground his hips upward as he kissed the brit hard. His hand slipped in between them, under the fabric of those boxers.

This time, Ben gasped and groaned softly into the kiss, unable to respond with a snappy comeback. There was no doubt in his mind that the sheer amount of alcohol had finally taken its toll; to see the blond opening up like that was a bit of a surprise. He'd been so withdrawn lately, so standoffish, though not without reason. Ben could only assume that whatever was going on in Adam's mind had become too much to bear. Regardless, the concern was short-lived. Somewhere on his body, some horrid jingle sounded, muffled, stuffed away in his pocket.

Ben groaned and stopped Adam from reaching it, taking a firm hold of his wrist. "Don't," he ordered. He knew exactly who it was, too—most definitely Miles wondering where they had run off. No one else would call Adam on a Friday night at nearly 11:00 PM. It most certainly nothing to do with business.

The ringing ceased after a few seconds, giving them a moment or two of peace before it went off again. In a sort of irritated manner, Ben pulled away and reached for the phone himself this time. It was Miles, alright. He did not intend to answer, however. After a couple of tries, pressing whatever buttons he could, he found the one that controlled the ringer volume and set it on silent. For now, it would lie on the nightstand next to the digital clock. With his hand free again, he brought it back, palming Adam through his trousers to return the gesture.

The blond bit back the urge to whimper or whatever he was going to do. Ben couldn't help but snicker softly at the sight of his brow furrowed in frustration. Adam was almost, dare he say, cute in a way.

"Let's get these off, hm?" Ben suggested, tugging at the fabric of Adam's pants. Adam had no qualms about it and waited for the brit to roll off of him to squirm out of both legs at once. The brit did the same.

Ben remained at his side, taking hold of the blond again, stroking him slowly, deliberately. The way the blond shuddered in his grasp, how he bit his lip so hard that he thought it would bleed was enough encouragement. He knew exactly what he was doing--practiced in the art of pleasing a man. Even Ben had to admit he was a bit of a player, but his last encounter had been over a week ago, before Adam showed up.

Adam jerked, bringing Ben out of his thoughts, as the pad of his thumb stroked over a rather sensitive area. Having been with his fair share of partners, none of them could compare to the blond and how excited Adam made him, just by the small sounds that escaped him, the way he panted softly and writhed under the brit. It wasn't just that, but something about Adam, the atmosphere between them had always been fiery from the get-go.

"Touch me," Ben said, breaking away shortly to guide Adam's hand to his aching arousal.

The blond did as requested and seemed happy to do so. Wherever he could reach, he nipped and kissed Ben; at his jaw line, neck and collar. Ben did the same, only more brazenly. The brit nibbled and sucked at his ear, licking the shell, whispering things that drove his imagination wild, drove him closer to the edge.

He held out for as long as he could—quite a while, actually—until he began to feel his control slipping. Adam, reduced to a panting, sweaty mess, bucked his hips uncontrollably with each stroke and lost it as he came hard, spurting onto his belly and chest. At some point, he thought he'd called out Ben's name, but his head was swimming and spinning with lust, hazy from his release and the alcohol. Ben, on the other hand, had been good that evening. If he was going to wake up tomorrow with a headache, it would most certainly not be a result of the drink.

"Hang tight, mate," the brit whispered as he climbed off the bed, still in but his shirt and boxers tugged halfway down his hips. Ben pulled them up on his way to the bathroom; the bottom of his shirt fell just over his arousal which had been neglected the moment Adam lost it. He would have to take care of it eventually, but for now, his focus remained on the blond. He came back from the bathroom with a damp rag to wipe off the mess. "Got some on your shirt," he said, noticing a dark spot on the sleeve. It was hardly a surprise to find that Adam didn't seem to care all that much, too high from the mix of things.

Adam pushed himself up, leaning on his elbows. He reached out, snaking one hand around the back of Ben's neck and pulled him into a kiss; slow at first, until it deepened. The brit allowed the gesture to continue long enough until he pulled away. Something, some kind of odd pang in the pit of his stomach coiled, white hot and burning. He cleared his throat a bit and stood from the bed telling Adam to take it easy.

Ben did not stay in the bathroom for long, having tended to his now painful excitement. It took but a few moments to relieve the situation, to toss the rag in the hamper before he returned to the bedroom. He half expected to come upon the sight of Adam having fallen asleep like he was, legs sprawled in every which direction, the sheets barely covering his lower half. Inwardly, the brit chuckled at this as he moved around to the empty side of the bed. Ben slipped in under the covers next to the blond, finally feeling the exhaustion that Adam had given into not long ago. Although he did not fall asleep right away, he was content to just lie there peacefully, listening to the soft sounds of the man breathing next to him.

Not once did he wonder how things would play out the next day.

-

When he woke a good seven hours later, Ben silently thanked the fact that it was a Saturday. There was no rush to get cleaned up and into the office on time; no one expecting him for another two full days. What did concern him, however, was waking up to find the other side of the bed empty, which had previously been occupied. He took a few moments to wake up before tossing the covers aside. Adam's cell phone was gone from the nightstand, he noticed, as he ventured into the living room.

Surprisingly enough, the blond had not left just yet. Adam sat on the couch checking his messages. He'd gotten two of them; the last one being less coherent than the first and both from Miles. He hung up shortly after and kept the phone in his hand, looking to Ben who was still in his shirt and boxers.

"Miles?" the brit wondered as he moved into the kitchen.

"Yeah," Adam said, sighing a little. The once wild and fervent atmosphere was hesitant and possibly even ashamed now that the alcohol had worn off. Whether he remembered exactly what happened was anyone's guess. Ben didn't need to be told twice. It was painfully apparent by the blond's dismal attitude.

"What did he say?" He ventured into the kitchen, rummaging around and came back with a bottle of Ibuprofen in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Ben handed them to Adam who accepted with much appreciation. His head was killing him and he didn't think to go rummaging around the apartment as it would have been rather rude to do so.

Adam washed the two pills he'd shook out into his palm down with two swigs of water, setting the glass on a coaster on the coffee table before answering. "He was wondering where we'd run off to." A shaky hand ran through his tousled, wavy blond hair. Miles also wanted to talk to him face-to-face, but it was still too early and no doubt the brunet had himself a long night as well. They could arrange to meet later, but for now, Adam stood from the couch and moved passed Ben, headed for the bedroom. Quite obviously, he fully intended on leaving; the assumption made clear as he grabbed his slacks which had been tossed off the side of the bed and slipped them back on.

"You're leaving then?"

He didn't bother to fix his appearance too much; his shirt already wrinkled from having slept in it and soiled from the night's previous events. Fortunately, he had his coat to cover that up; at least until he could get home. "Yeah…" Everything he needed: wallet, keys, phone, were on his body. The only thing left was to say goodbye. It wasn't much of a goodbye, more of a nod as he slipped passed the brit to head out of the apartment. Once the door shut behind him, Adam kept walking. He took the stairs instead, needing to move, not wanting to wait around for the elevator. Only when he pushed his way through the large double doors of the building, when the cool, crisp morning air hit his flushed face did he let out the breath he'd been holding in.