Archive of Our Own

The drink is delivered to the table with instructions that it’s for Adam and Sauli to share. It’s a house specialty. The sign over the bar says it’s the ultimate couples experience, made for people who aren’t afraid to have some fun, who aren’t afraid to take a chance.

Sauli’s sitting at the table, watching the colors swirl in the glass. The blues and the greens dance around the little threads of reds, and it looks like puffs of mist rise up whenever the colors mix.

Tommy slides onto one of the chairs at the table and looks at the glass in front of Sauli. “So where’s Adam?” Because, seriously? Only Adam would order something that looks like that.

“I think he’s having his picture taken,” Sauli answers, a frown forming as he gazes into the strange liquid. “I think that’s the only thing he’s been able to do all evening. I’m ready to steal his drink, though, if he doesn’t come back soon.”

“That looks...Well, it looks fucking interesting, anyway. What’s in it?” Tommy’s staring at the glass just as intently as Sauli is. Something about it looks organic and hypnotizing at the same time, and neither of them can make themselves look away.

“I have no idea.” Sauli watches as a large bubble makes its way to the surface. “Maybe I should taste it so I can answer you.”

Tommy leans in closer to the molten mass just as the bubble bursts, spraying tiny beads of moisture on his face. “Maybe you should,” he tells Sauli as his tongue chases down the stray drops that have conveniently landed in close proximity to his mouth. Each tiny bit of liquid sparks something in him. He wouldn’t call it excitement, but maybe a heightened sense of awareness of what’s closest to him, of what’s right at this table, of who’s at this table.

Tommy watches as Sauli picks up the drink and brings it to his mouth. He could swear he sees Sauli’s nostrils flare as the glass gets closer. “What’s it smell like?”

“It smells like... warm beaches in the sun.... like snow in the mountains... fresh linens on a soft bed.” Sauli takes a long drink, and Tommy can’t take his eyes off Sauli’s lips as the liquid touches them. He’s mesmerized by the dreamy way Sauli’s adam’s apple rises and falls as he swallows, almost in slow motion. It’s like some fucking porno movie or something, Tommy thinks. And while he’s thinking, he wonders when the fuck he’s ever noticed anyone else’s adam’s apple. Never, that’s when. Except that one time with Adam, but they were both stoned off their asses, and the very idea of Adam’s adam’s apple seemed so fucking deep and esoteric at the time.

Sauli’s eyes are lowered in reverent appreciation of the liquor, eyelashes fanning out over the perfect cheekbones Tommy doesn’t remember noticing before, while the tip of his tongue peeks out and sweeps across his lips, dragging in stray bits of liquid, but leaving a glistening trail behind. Tommy can’t stop his own tongue from mirroring what he’s watching, but he doubts his lips are fucking glowing like he swears Sauli’s are.

Tommy blinks hard, trying to pull himself back to the club and the lights and the people, but the small clink as Sauli sets the glass back on the table vibrates through Tommy’s body like fine leaded crystal being rung. “Perhaps you should try it,” Sauli says, sliding the glass his way, and Tommy can see the dare in his eyes. “See what it tastes like to you.”

“Perhaps I should,” Tommy answers, because that dare has turned into something more in the blink of Sauli’s eyes. It’s a compulsion; it’s a fucking command, and Tommy can’t find the desire to refuse anywhere in him.

Tommy’s determined to do it all in one go, so he picks the glass up, trying his hardest not to let the distracting colors or motion deflect him from his goal. As the drink gets nearer, he has a fleeting thought about Sauli being right about it smelling warm, but it’s more the warmth of heavy blankets and a sheltered, quiet room than beaches and mountains.

Tommy feels the alcohol going down with an icy fire. It seems to coat and surround everything it touches, from his tongue to his throat, and all the way down to his stomach. He feels lost in that warm, safe place he recognized in the liquid’s smell. When he sets the glass down on the table, the sound it makes resonates through every cell of his body. He feels hypersensitive to anything connected to the glass in his hand, but the rest of the world fades into a muted blur.

He can feel something pulling at him, and when Tommy looks up, he sees Sauli’s big blue eyes staring right at him; maybe even right through him, or into him, or what the fucking fuck ever. He can’t really tell, because everything seems to have gone full tilt crazy suddenly. All he knows for sure is that he can’t break eye contact with Sauli, and he swears that when he looks deep enough, he can see himself in Sauli’s eyes.

Sauli must be going through some seriously freaky shit too, because he’s still staring at Tommy like he’s Sauli’s fucking lifeline, and Tommy knows he’s doing the same damn thing. He knows that time must be passing somewhere, just not here, not at their table, and sure as shit not in the way their eyes are locked and won’t let go.

Tommy catches movement out of the corner of his eyes and hears Adam’s voice, but it sounds muffled. “There you two are. Finally got away from all the PR bullshit. Hey, where’s the drink I ordered? I wanted to share it with you, baby.”

Sauli waves a hand vaguely in the direction of the empty glass. “Tommy and I shared it. We didn’t know if you would be coming back.” They still can’t break eye contact. Tommy doesn’t want to break eye contact, but he can’t figure out why the hell not.

Adam’s laugh echoes through Tommy’s head, and something isn’t right here. Tommy hears the sound twice, the second just a hairsbreadth later than the first. If he weren’t a musician, if he weren’t trained to listen for timing, he probably wouldn’t have realized what was wrong. He would have just thought something was a little off. Looking at the frown line forming between Sauli’s eyebrows, Tommy knows he’s not the only one who picked up on whatever the hell is going on. He can almost hear Sauli’s confusion in his head, and it’s starting to freak him the fuck out.

Tommy hears that weird echoing again when Adam asks, “Was it good? Should I order another one for us to share?” But when Adam puts his hands on Sauli’s face and kisses his forehead, Tommy flies out of his chair, because he can fucking feel it. He feels Adam’s big, warm hands on his cheeks. He feels Adam’s lips against skin. He sees Adam touching and kissing Sauli, but he feels it happening to him, and shit like this just can’t be real.

Adam and Sauli both turn to watch him, Adam with a confused look on his face, but Tommy swears he can feel a question in Sauli’s mind, and that can’t be real either. There’s no way in hell he could feel what’s in someone else’s mind. He tries to tell himself that it’s all some fucked up effect of the alcohol on top of not enough sleep, but that doesn’t make the impression go away. The feeling isn’t strong enough to know what the question is, but it’s definitely a question, and Tommy knows it’s not his question.

Suddenly, all this shit is just too messed up for Tommy’s mind to try and sort out, and he wants nothing more than to get away. Maybe the drink hit him harder than he realized; maybe there was something in it. He doesn’t know, but he knows he needs to get away from everyone and everything and sleep this off. He can almost feel the warm comfort of his bed, snuggled down under soft blankets, bright blue eyes looking back at him.

And holy shit, Tommy has no idea where that last part came from, but he can swear he hears Sauli’s equally confused voice in his head, saying That would be me.

Maybe if he’s away from everyone, he’ll get back to only thinking his own thoughts and only feeling what he should be feeling. Maybe if there’s a little distance between him and Sauli, he can break away from whatever shit’s going on between them. He can feel Sauli’s feelings now, and he knows that neither one of them is happy with whatever the fuck’s going on.

He’s not even sure if Sauli’s picked up on their connection until he turns and tries to get away too fast with a hurried, “Gotta take a piss,” thrown over his shoulder. It’s the one excuse no one ever argues with. His mind is on other things, and he really doesn’t pay attention to where he’s going until there’s a chair right in front of him, and he runs into it. Sauli beats him shouting owww!, but not by much. It’s like they have a millisecond delay between them, and Tommy reacts to what Sauli’s feeling first, while Sauli gets hit with the effects of Tommy’s clumsiness before Tommy does.

It’s too much for Tommy; all this trippy shit is too hard to try and make sense of. His brain can’t wrap itself around what’s going on, and trying to figure it out is only making it worse. The heat and the noise of the club are starting to press in on him. The crowded jumble of bodies is turning into a jail, keeping him trapped. He needs space, he needs air, but most of all, he fucking needs to be by himself to sort this shit out.

He feels himself getting twitchy and jittery, the first signs of a full on panic attack. His heart is beating double time, and his throat feels dry as the dust he can see on his shoes, because he can’t stand to look at anything else right now. He’s about to break and run - he doesn’t know where, aside from not here - when he feels hands on his shoulders. They’re not big hands like Adam’s, but they’re strong hands. They’re hands that feel familiar in some ass-backwards bizarro world, and they help him back from the edge.

Tommy hears Sauli telling him It’ll be okay, and Relax, and Deep breaths; take deep breaths, and the reverb thing isn’t there, but there’s some fucked up overlay going on now. He can tell by the way Sauli cocks his head to one side that he’s hearing it, too.

Sauli pulls him back to the table and makes him sit down while telling Adam, “I think we should go. Tommy isn’t feeling well, and neither am I. I think that drink affected us both, and it’s time to leave.” Tommy’s amazed by Sauli being able to pull off a calm front for Adam, because he can feel the nerves and knots working their way through Sauli’s brain right now, same as they’re doing in his. He can also feel how much Sauli doesn’t want to worry Adam over it, and he thinks Aww, shit, that’s kinda sweet. It’s a passing thought. He wouldn’t have even realized its coming or going if he hadn’t felt Sauli’s smile. And felt is the operative word, because when he looks at Sauli, the smile isn’t on his face, but Tommy can still feel it in his mind.

As much as Tommy thinks Sauli’s a nice guy, having no filter between their thoughts is not okay in his book. He really doesn’t want to know everything Sauli’s thinking, and he sure as hell doesn’t want Sauli to know all the shit that goes through his mind. Some things are best kept private. He can feel the panic coming back full force, but then he hears Sauli’s voice in his head, promising not to think about sex if Tommy does the same. It might be the fact that Sauli’s thought has the totally opposite effect on both of them, or it might be the alcohol, but when they both pop almost instantaneous boners, they collapse on each other in a fit of laughter.

Adam looks at both of them closely. Too closely, Tommy thinks. Tommy knows he’d bolt right then if Sauli’s hands weren’t still on his shoulders, holding him in place. But when he looks in Sauli’s eyes, those fucking bluer-than-blue eyes, Tommy relaxes. He floats; he feels all dreamy and tired, but in a good way. Sleep sounds like the perfect thing right now, and if his head starts leaning a little closer to Sauli, so fucking what? It’s what feels right, and he’s in no condition to try and sort out why.

He feels Sauli relaxing into him, too, and he’s glad he’s got company in this, whatever the hell this is. His arm finds its way around Sauli’s waist because it feels like it belongs there, just like Sauli’s arm around his shoulder feels natural.

His eyelids are getting heavier by the second, but in between slow blinks, he sees Adam scowling at them. He hears a voice in his head saying something about it being the same look he had when he found out about the pictures of him sleeping in the nude, and Tommy can’t hold back a laugh. At least he hopes it’s a laugh and not a giggle, because he doesn’t fucking giggle, except when he’s high, but he’s beginning to think he’s high right now.

Adam’s looking at them both with confusion and concern. Tommy really fucking wants to reach out and pet him or something, because he looks so damn cute. It’s Sauli’s free hand that finds its way to Adam’s hair, though, and he says, “Yes. Just like a big puppy dog.” Tommy knows he giggles at that one.

“Give me a sec to find Sutan,” Adam tells them. “I’ll see if he’s ready to go now or if he wants to find a ride with someone later.” Tommy’s foggy brain wonders how he forgot Sutan came with them tonight. Sutan: life partner, VayVee, the guy with legs long enough to climb, and a wicked streak that sometimes makes even Tommy blush. How could he forget his VayVee?

This time Tommy hears Sauli giggle before he says, “VayVee. I like that. Are you my VayVee, Adam?” Tommy can’t remember saying that out loud, but it doesn’t seem wrong that Sauli would have heard it even if he hadn’t given voice to it.

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but you both need to go home and sleep it off.” Adam looks around the club, hoping to spot Sutan in the crowd. When he sees him on the opposite side of the room, he tells Tommy and Sauli, “Don’t move, either one of you. I’ll be right back.”

Sauli and Tommy’s minds are full of VayVees, and sweet siippas, and any other alliteration they can think of, and they can’t keep from laughing because everything is just so fucking funny. They have to hold each other tighter to avoid falling off the chairs that seem to think they would be better off on the floor, and that thought makes both of them giggle even more, because neither one of them knows which one thought it.

With a shake of his head, a totally confused look on his face and an admonition to just stay the fuck where they are, Adam goes to gather Sutan, because he really doesn’t think he can manage to get both of them out to the car on his own, or at least that’s what he tells them. Tommy thinks it might have more to do with Adam wanting someone else for moral support, because even if he’s part of what’s causing those worry lines to show up on Adam’s face, inwardly he’s scared shitless about what’s going on, and he can feel the same fear coming from Sauli.

“We are so fucked. So fucking fucked,” Tommy says - or thinks - he’s too far gone to know the difference now. Outwardly, both men giggle even harder, because everything seems better when they laugh, and they couldn’t fight it even if they tried.

“Yes, but I think it will get worse before it can get better,” Sauli answers, and again Tommy’s not sure if the words are spoken out loud or just thought, but they both laugh at the thought of what they might still have to go through.

Adam comes back with Sutan just in time to see the two of them giggling hard enough to bring tears to their eyes, arms around each other, heads leaning together. “See, I told you they need to go home now.”

Sutan can see a few camera phones pointed in their direction, and says, “Let’s get them out of here before we have real damage control to do. Come on, sweetie,” he tells Tommy, helping him stand up. “Time to go home and go to bed. You’re gonna have enough problems with your head tomorrow, not to mention dealing with the pictures that are gonna be online.” This brings out another bout of giggling from Tommy and Sauli, and Adam and Sutan roll their eyes in choreographed synchronization.

All the way to the car, waves of giggles continue to hit Tommy and Sauli. Every time one of them thinks about how strange the night is, every time one of them worries about what’s going on between them, they both start giggling all over again. It continues as Adam and Sutan discuss the best way to handle what they think are two very drunk men. They don’t miss the way Tommy and Sauli keep looking at each other before another round of giggles breaks out, almost as if they’re reacting to something the other one is saying.

“They’d be cute as all hell,” Sutan says, trying to keep Tommy upright and moving forward, “if we knew for sure that they were just drunk.”

“Oh, shit,” Adam answers. “Do you think we should take them to the hospital? To make sure they didn’t get something that’s gonna hurt them, I mean.”

“I really don’t think they’d appreciate that when it hit the gossip blogs, do you?” Sutan asks as they awkwardly maneuver Sauli and Tommy into the car. “I think we should just keep an eye on them tonight. See how they do. If they get worse later, we can always take them in. I think sleeping it off is the best solution.” He’s been petting Tommy’s hair while talking, and combined with the motion of the car, it’s having a very relaxing effect on Tommy. “I’ll stay with Tommy; you can keep an eye on Sauli.”

Tommy’s practically purring, eyes closed, cuddled into the warm spot at Sutan’s side. The last thing he hears before he falls asleep is a quiet giggle from Sauli while he feels the thought pushed into his head that he really is like a big cat.

 

Tommy’s not exactly sure what it is that wakes him up. He could swear there was some kind of chime involved, except it was more of a click - a click of things falling into place. He’s not ready to get up yet. The covers are warm, and the bed is soft. He does a quick inventory, and, yeah, he’s got time before he has to hit the john. He can take a few more minutes, or even sleep a little more before he has to leave the warm cocoon of blankets. For as long as he can remember, this is how he’s slept: wrapped up completely and insulated from the rest of the world.

Except when he snuggles back down, he realizes he’s not quite insulated from the rest of the world. The world seems to be intruding on his lounging this morning, or at least a little part of the world is, because he thinks that’s sure as shit someone else's leg he feels wrapped around him. It’s a big leg - strong and muscular and...hairy? That’s so not his usual type. He wonders just how fucking much he had to drink last night. He can remember going out with Adam and his boyfriend. He thinks Sutan may have been with them, too, but everytime he tries to make his mind focus on sorting shit out, his head starts hurting enough to make him puke.

He needs to find a name for whatever amazon chick he went home with, though, or it’s gonna get awkward really fast when she wakes up, because he can tell this isn’t his bed, and the room he’s in is too fucking open and airy to be his. He doesn’t want to have to figure out how to get home until he’s at least had a cup of coffee. Maybe, he thinks, he could wiggle around without waking her up. If he could see her face, maybe he could remember her name.

But the minute he starts moving, he realizes that no matter how amazon a chick is, she still wouldn’t have what’s poking him in the back. He knows morning wood when he feels it, or he knows his own, anyway.

What the fucking hell did he actually do last night?

He’s seriously in bed with a fucking dude. A dude with a dick. A dick that’s getting all kinds of up close and personal with his ass, thank you very much. And it might not even be the first time something like this has happened to him, but it’s damn sure the first time it’s ever happened when he couldn’t remember anything about what the fuck happened the night before. And he’s never been bare-ass naked when he woke up, either. This is bad, this is so, so fucking bad. He’s never gonna drink again, he promises himself, and maybe he’s made that promise before, but this time he fucking means it.

Tommy’s on the verge of hyperventilating when he hears a sleepy voice saying, “Keep still, baby. It’s early. You still need to sleep off last night.”

And bad just got so fucking much worse, because Tommy knows that voice. He’s heard it almost every day for the last three years. It’s the voice of his friend; it’s the voice of his boss. It’s the voice of a man he knows is in a very stable relationship with someone who isn’t him. So what the fucking hell did he do last night to end up in bed with Adam? Naked?

Tommy scrambles up to the head of the bed, pulling a comforter with him, because, Hello, naked? He’s not really comfortable with showing his junk to Adam this morning. He would have continued right up the wall, but no matter how much he wishes it were, this isn’t some horror movie, and people can’t climb walls in real life. He would if he fucking could, though, because now Adam’s awake and looking at him in ways Tommy doesn’t understand.

Adam’s reaching for him, actually fucking reaching for him, and Tommy tries to put a little more distance between them, because this is Adam, and this should never, ever be happening. Thank fuck Adam’s got a big bed. There’s some strange shit going down this morning, and Tommy just wants to find a quiet place to curl up and sleep until everything goes back to normal.

When he hears Adam asking, “Sauli, baby, what’s wrong?” he looks at Adam like he’s lost his fucking mind. It stops Tommy dead cold, because how the hell can Adam be fried enough to mistake him for Sauli?

While Tommy spends a minute in stupefied immobilization, Adam moves in closer, right in next to Tommy, all his naked flesh pressed right up against Tommy’s, and this shit is just too far gone for Tommy to process it. He’s stumbling through the fog in his brain when he feels Adam’s arm going around his shoulder, while his other hand reaches up to rest on Tommy’s cheek. Then Adam leans in and kisses his fucking forehead.

Tommy flashes back to pictures of the club he thinks they went to last night, and Adam kissing Sauli like that, except there was more. Tommy can’t quite pick it out of the cotton that’s still living in his brain, but he knows damn well there was something more, something that might help him make sense out out of this.

Instead, he reaches out to feel Adam, to see if he’s real and not some manifestation of whatever he thought it was a good idea to put into his body last night. Yeah, he tells himself, not the smartest thing he’s ever done, whatever the hell it was. He can’t really remember taking anything, but he must have done something. Again, not the first time it’s happened.

But then Tommy sees the hand - his hand, he thinks - that’s reaching for Adam, and his brain does a stutter-step, because it’s not his hand. He knows what his hand looks like; he knows what his hand feels like, and this is not his fucking hand. He holds both arms out in front of him, turning them over and over, trying to make sense of what he’s seeing. “Holy fucking shit!” When the hell did his tattoos get fucked up? There’re colors and flowers and shit, and those letters between his thumb and index finger? Oh, shit, indeed!

This is all so freaking fucked up in Tommy’s mind that he thinks he’s going to pass out or find some other way to embarrass himself. It can’t be. Everything he’s ever known to be true tells him that this can’t fucking be.

Period.

End of discussion.

But it still is.

He closes his eyes, unconsciously holding his breath, hoping that the world will fall back into order when he opens them again, but no such fucking luck.

 

“What the actual fuck? What the hell’s going on? Oh, fuck my actual life right now!”

Tommy thought he was only thinking the words, not actually saying them, but Adam’s, “Sauli? What is it, baby?” makes him realize that his mind has apparently turned traitor on him.

Adam’s arm tightens around his shoulder, and Tommy’s mind flashes to the naked thing again. It’s not like they’ve never seen each other undressed - small buses, tiny dressing rooms, costume changes, and everything else that goes with touring made that hard to avoid, but this isn’t the same fucking thing, at all. This is personal nakedness. This is something that they don’t do. And touching during personal nakedness? Yeah...no.

Trying to scoot further away from Adam is impossible. The guy’s arms are stronger than they look. All those years of guitar playing have given Tommy some muscle there too, or so he thought, but not as much as he sees in what should be his own arms that are pushing against Adam. Tommy loses it for a second, getting lost in watching the muscles of his bicep bunch and tighten - muscles that shouldn’t fucking be there, because he’s never had them before. It’s not even that he minds having them. He likes muscles. He’s tried to build muscles before, but that shit just wasn’t happening with his body type. No, what bothers him is that he knows these aren’t his fucking muscles, and he thinks he knows whose they are.

The muscles, the tats, the light, airy room, they all belong to the person who should be here in bed with Adam. They belong to Sauli.

Adam takes advantage of Tommy’s momentary self distraction by wrapping him up even tighter in his embrace. Between the safety and warmth of Adam’s arms, and the soft words coming out of Adam’s mouth, Tommy’s tempted to give in to the overpowering overload of impossibilities he’s trying to fight and simply cuddle into the safe spot Adam seems determined to make for him. Adam has a way of making even this strange-ass situation seem warm and comforting.

He sits there, listening to Adam’s soothing voice telling him to relax and take deep breaths; that everything will be okay if he just calms down; that he’s probably stuck between some nightmare he had and being fully awake, all the while petting Tommy, and it feels so damn good and right that he could stay this way forever.

Except this isn’t his safe place, it’s Sauli’s, and Tommy can feel all the love and concern that Adam feels for Sauli in the way he’s being held and comforted. He knows this has to be some fucked up dream or nightmare, but he can’t help feeling guilty for taking what’s not his. He’s not quite certain that some small part of his brain doesn’t crave this connection his friend has with his boyfriend, and that he hasn’t concocted a particularly vivid hallucination to facilitate his experiencing of it because Tommy's never really had this before - this total devotion to another person, this absolute caring for someone else’s well being. He likes it. He likes it more than he should, because he knows it's just a dream. It has to be just a dream, because he can't be here with Adam in Sauli's body. He’s gonna wake up for real soon, and this will all be gone.

He decides that he has to find a way to wake himself up before this goes any further. He's always heard that pinching works, because no one can feel actual pain in a dream, so before he has a chance to think it over, he reaches out and pinches Adam's side. The way Adam responds doesn't help him, though. "Ouch! What the hell, Sauli? What was that for?"

"I needed to do something to wake up, Lambert. And could you not let your hand get any lower, please?" The hand that’s not wrapped in a vice grip around his shoulder, pinning him in place, has been steadily rubbing circles on Tommy’s back, making its way further down until it hits that small place in Tommy's lower back. Shit, he never knew how sensitive his skin was there, but he does know that Adam’s hand is boldly going where practically no man’s hand has gone before, and Tommy’s kind of enjoying it.

“What? But, why?” When Tommy looks at Adam’s eyes, he sees a look that’s gone beyond concern and straight into worried. Even if this is all a dream, Tommy feels bad for putting that look there. Adam does move his wandering hand up further on Tommy’s back, though. "But shouldn't you have pinched yourself? That's how you’re supposed to wake yourself up, or so I’ve heard."

"Why would I want to pinch myself? That would hurt." Tommy’s never been kinky enough to be into pain, no matter what some fans think. He avoids it at all costs, apparently even in his dreams.

"But why did you want to hurt me?” Even Adam’s voice sounds hurt now, and Tommy feels like even more of a shit for putting that hurt there. It’s not physical hurt; Tommy knows he didn’t pinch that hard, even with all the new muscles. It’s an emotional hurt he hears in Adam’s voice, and that pulls him pretty damn close to going along with whatever this is just to avoid having to face hurting Adam again.

“Because everything in my dreams is an extension of my subconscious, so by pinching you, I should have been pinching myself.” The words might not make as much of a logical connection as Tommy wants, but they do seem to take some of the hurt out of Adam’s eyes. That makes Tommy smile a little, and Adam smiles back.

"Baby, you were doing so good - just calming down. Let's go back a step. I'll take care of you until all your dreams are gone." Adam’s holding his hand now, and Tommy has to admit it feels good. He can feel Adam’s thumb rubbing over his hand, and something about it feels like a promise. He’s just starting to think that maybe waiting this out right here wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all. Maybe he can just stay in this warm place until the world goes back to making sense. But then Adam brings him back to reality. “Why do you think this is just a dream, anyway?"

"Because I’m not who you seem to think I am." Tommy runs a hand through his hair in frustration, and even his hair isn't his own hair anymore. "And I’m not talking in some damn code where everyone says things they think are fucking clever and mean something else. I'm saying I’m not Sauli, dude. It’s that plain and simple. I'm Tommy, and the only logical explanation that I can think of is that I’m still asleep - maybe in my bed at home, maybe in someone else’s, I don’t even fucking know anymore - and dreaming this whole fucked up thing.” Tommy would laugh at the look on Adam’s face if he wasn’t so worked up about what was going on. Hell, he might even be tempted to snap a picture, but the whole naked thing means he doesn’t have his phone handy. “I don't know what the fuck's going on here, but I'm sure as hell not supposed to be in bed with you. Especially not naked, with you touching me and shit. Now please let me go back to sleep, so I can wake the fuck up."

After Tommy’s declaration, the hurt look on Adam’s face changes back to worry, and Tommy knows it’s worry for his wellbeing. The way Adam looks at him makes Tommy feel like shit, because he can remember Sauli feeling anxious about causing Adam concern the night before. Hell, he knows how much shit Adam has to go through, trying to make his career happen. He just can't understand how he can remember what Sauli was feeling. That would mean that he knew what Sauli was feeling. He doesn't even know what he's feeling most of the damned time, so how the hell could he know what someone else was feeling?

But, whatever. Adam's looking at him like he just found out his puppy died, and he's not letting Tommy go. If anything, he's holding him tighter than ever. And he's back to using that concerned, loving voice when he talks to Tommy. "Oh, baby. I'm so sorry I didn't take you somewhere to get checked out last night. I knew something was wrong. I should’ve found out what it was then."

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about, Lambert, but the only place I wanted to go last night was home to my apartment. That much I do remember.” Tommy’s head feels like someone went to work on it with a meat tenderizer, and he refuses to accept the fact that his suffering would, by his own definition, prove that he’s not dreaming. “How much did I actually drink? And why the hell did you let me get that shit faced drunk? And why the hell am I asking someone in a fucking dream questions and expecting answers that make sense?”

Tommy tries rubbing his temples because he hasn’t one fucking clue what else to do, and that’s what people always do in the make believe world of movies and shit, and he thinks maybe it’ll work in this make believe dream world, too. All it does, though, is let him know that even touching his head hurts like hell. “Owwww! Fuck, that fucking shit hurts like a bitch!”

Tommy doesn’t give his outburst any more thought than he would’ve if he’d been by himself, because, yeah, dream world here - nothing is real anyway. He doesn't give it any thought, that is, until he feels Adam’s hands on his shoulders, pushing him back far enough to give him that look - the one that looks so far inside you that you know there’s not a chance in hell of hiding anything from him.

But even Adam’s patented super look isn’t working this time, because he pulls Tommy into a hug so tight it sets the jackhammer in his head to double time, saying, “Oh, Sauli, baby. Now you’re really starting to scare me.”

Tommy sits there for a minute - maybe even two - because it feels so good, so safe and warm in Adam’s arms. He feels protected. He feels cherished. He feels...loved? And, whoa, why the hell did that last part make him want to keep this dream going? He knows that it’s not his place to feel that, even in a dream. That belongs to Sauli - lucky bastard - and Tommy’s always been okay with that, but he’s never been bare-assed naked in bed with Adam either, feeling Adam petting and stroking him, being so damned tender with him.

Tommy tries reasoning with himself. He tries lecturing himself. He tries bemusedly chastising himself, because that PA bullshit is something else that always works in the movies, and still it comes right back to the fact that he fucking likes it here - right here with all the feelings that go with it, and that’s just so, so wrong. And it’s not even the fact that he’s popping wood over Adam’s naked body being pressed all up against him. After all this time, he’s gotten used to having that reaction to Adam.

No, what’s bothering him is more than that. It’s some fucking deep shit that’s all emotional and full of things like wanting and longing and every other damn thing he’s sure as hell not gonna try and figure out now. Right now, all he wants to do is find a way to make that worried look on Adam’s face go away.

He’s right back to thinking that maybe it won’t be too bad if he just lets this dream carry him for a while. Maybe if he relaxes a little, quits fighting it so hard, Adam will relax a little bit, too. As long as he keeps things straight in his own head and reminds people who he really is, there’s no harm, right? After all, it’s all a dream.

But dream or no, Tommy wants to take a shower in the worst way. Maybe the hot water and steam will help clear this fucked up vision out of his head. Hell, maybe he’ll finally wake up. Until he does, though, he wants to make sure Adam’s okay with things. Apparently he cares about Adam’s feelings even in his dreams.

Moving his hands up to cup Adam’s face between his palms, Tommy sees that look in Adam’s eyes. It’s the look he’s seen so many times before, the look that says Adam’s mind is working overtime, trying to find a way to make everything better for everyone, especially for him. Only it’s not Tommy that Adam thinks he’s looking at.

Before it goes any further, Tommy pulls the bed’s comforter around him, leaving Adam with nothing but the morning breeze covering him. “Gonna take a shower, man. See if that helps my head.”

Adam doesn’t seem bothered at all about his own state of exposure. No, what seems to be upsetting to him, what puts that frown line back between his eyes, is that Tommy isn’t comfortable with it. Maybe when it’s just Adam and Sauli, all alone with no one else to see or criticize, the two of them run around like fucking naked woodland creatures, frolicking and shit, but Tommy’s sure as hell not gonna be doing that even if he’s not wearing his own body at the moment. Even if it is all a dream - which he’s doubting more and more as time goes by - it’s still outside of his comfort zone.

“Maybe I should go with you,” Adam says, the worry lines working in deeper. “Just to make sure you’re okay, baby. You might get dizzy or something in there.”

Tommy appreciates Adam’s anxiety over his safety. Hell, he’d even think it was cute as all hell if it were really Sauli here and not him. But right now it’s only making it harder for him to put some space between them, and Tommy desperately needs that space to keep his head straight. Putting on his best valley-speak, because even if the voice doesn’t sound like his, he’s determined the words will, he tells Adam, “Yeah, no. So not happening, dude.”

Tommy has to dodge to avoid the hand that’s reaching out to him, the one that wants to pull him back where everything is safe and warm, and it causes the look on Adam’s face to shift over the concerned line and right into afraid. “Sauli, honey, maybe you should rest a little longer. Maybe I should call someone. You’re really scaring me now.”

“That’s cause you’re, like, not hearing what I’ve been trying to tell you, man.” Tommy pulls the comforter tighter around himself as he climbs off the bed and makes his way towards the bathroom. “Maybe you should try looking deeper. Like, maybe there’s more than meets the eye, dude, just like the song says.”

Before he shuts the door between them, Tommy says, “You should probably go do whatever it is you do in the mornings when you’re home. I’m gonna do what I usually do when I wake up, which is not usually this fucking early, by the way. Maybe if we both do normal, boring shit, one of us will wake the fuck up.”

 

 

While Tommy pulls the bathroom door closed behind him, he finally lets the comforter fall, and, shit, he’s just not ready for what he sees when he turns and catches a glimpse of what’s reflected in the mirror.

It’s not him he sees. The body, the hair, the face - they’re not fucking his. It’s enough to make his knees give out, and for just a second he regrets telling Adam he couldn’t come in here with him. It’s not like Adam’s never seen everything Tommy’s seeing right now, anyway. He manages to catch the edge of the vanity with his fingertips, and it’s enough to keep him from hitting the ground.

He should have been expecting it; he should have been prepared. He’d seen the tats. He’d seen the muscles. He’d known whose room and whose life this dream had put him in, but it still didn’t make it any easier to accept what he was seeing.

And somehow, seeing Sauli reflected back at him when his mind was expecting to see himself is so much more real than anything else that’s been happening. But it’s such a fucked up disconnect from everything that he’s ever known as reality that it takes his breath away, and he feels his chest tighten.

He feels like he’s five years old as he makes faces at himself in the mirror, hoping to see some sign that his reflection isn’t following along. He reaches up and pulls and pushes at the skin of the face that’s not his face, and watches in unbelieving incredulity as the reflection responds.

He even reaches up and pulls at the mirror to make sure this isn’t all some elaborate practical joke with a hidden camera. He can’t work out how anyone would have been able to pull off everything he’s been going through this morning, but it’s still more believable than waking up in someone else’s body.

While he’s reaching and pulling at the mirror, he can’t help but see his reflection doing the same thing, and there’s something about the way the muscles of the-body-that-isn’t-his move that fascinates him. There’s a sense of fluidity and grace in the movements that he’s never had but always wanted. There’s a feeling of coiled strength as he flexes a little bit.

When he catches himself reaching up to touch the reflected pec, just to see how it really feels, he knows he’s totally lost whatever part of his fucking mind he still had when he woke up. This shit just isn’t right. So he turns his back to the mirror, meaning to turn on the shower, but he can’t help one little look over his shoulder, and the perfectly pert, little round ass that he sees is enough to set off a string of cuss words like he’s never strung before, because sometimes life just isn’t fair, and sometimes it likes to tease the shit out of you.

Tommy lets the water run while he gathers every single pampering product he can find. If he’s gonna be stuck in this dream, he’s damn well gonna take advantage of it. He’s got an impressive lineup of soaps, gels, moisturizers, shampoos and conditioners by the time he’s ready to step under the spray, but he can't find a washcloth. He doesn't want to go looking for one, either - it's not his stuff. He knows that you can tell a lot of shit about a person from the smallest things put in the weirdest damn places - all those big secrets that they don't want anybody knowing about are always kept in drawers and cabinets and shit like that. He can't take seeing any more of that private side of Adam than he already has today, so he grabs the cloth from the fancy guest set that’s on display before he ducks into the shower. Fuck it, he’s a guest here. It’s just another way to keep his head straight about who he is, no matter what he looks like.

Feeling the water hit just where he needs it the most, Tommy silently thanks whoever designed this amazing shower in all its fucking perfection. This is like a thing of beauty or some shit...or at least a thing of orgasms. He could stand here forever, waiting for the world to make sense again, but he thinks it would be just his luck to have Adam come in to check up on him if he takes too long.

Lifting the washcloth, he squirts some of the shower gel onto it, working it into a ball of lather before starting in on the business of getting clean. Showering has always been something he does just because - because he needs to wash the day off, because he needs to wake up, because he needs to relax. It’s always been a means to something else, and not an experience in and of itself.

But the second the soapy cloth hits his skin, everything he ever thought he knew about showering changes, because, damn, this got so much more interesting. He's experiencing this in a way he never has before. The muscles that he saw reflected in the mirror were nice, but actually feeling them is on a whole fucking different plain of existence.

He can sense differences from the inside and the outside. It's his body, or at least the body he's in right now, but it's sure as shit not the body he's spent all his life taking care of. And it's not like he doesn't like his own body, or even that he likes this one more. It's just different. It's a whole new set of sensations he feels as he runs the cloth over his ribs and abs. It's almost like showering with a chick, but so, so fucking different, because the whole equipment thing? Not what you’d find on a chick. This washing another male body situation has never happened to him before, but he thinks he likes it.

And then he’s there, washing a dick that is and isn’t his, and shit...just fucking shit. He doesn’t think anymore. He doesn’t worry; he doesn’t try and figure things out. He just feels, because this right here? This feels so fucking intense. The soap and the water and the heat and the steam, they all work together with his hands - hands that have a mind and a rhythm of their own.

He starts slowly, without any conscious thought or design. He doesn’t plan on jerking someone else’s dick, even if it’s the dick he’s wearing, and how the fuck did his life ever get to the point of making that thought make sense, he wonders. He isn’t even thinking about where he’s washing when the slow even strokes start. He doesn’t realize that, for the first time since he woke up, his thoughts are quiet. He doesn’t pay any attention to the way his head falls back, letting the water run down his neck and chest and legs while it joins the private party going on between his hands and his cock.

He pulls in a deep, shuddering breath as one hand cups his nuts, and, damn, this feels good. It’s more than feeling like he’s being his own best friend. It’s more than feeling like someone else is jacking him. This is so fucking far beyond anything he’s ever felt before that he has nothing to compare it to.

He’s played I’ll-do-you-if-you-do-me with drunken buddies before, but he’s never felt both sides like this. He’s the one controlling the doing and the being done to, and that makes so much fucking difference that he doesn’t last longer than a hormonal first time teenager. And when he comes....Well, shit, son, suddenly superlatives like mind-blowing and out of this world fucking awesome just seem way too mild and tame, because this time the whole world goes away for a minute or five, and he finally understands the little death.

He thinks he probably went a little over the line into the loud side when he hears Adam’s voice from the other side of the door asking if he’s sure he’s okay in there by himself. Yeah, he thinks as he runs his fingers through his wet hair, trying to catch his breath before answering out loud, he’s more than just okay right now.

“Just finishing up, dude. I’ll be out in a minute, and I need coffee. Lots of coffee.”

He thinks he might even be able to Irish up his coffee, and the thought makes him smile for the first time since he woke up, but then he hears Adam say, “Forget the coffee, babe. I’ll make you that special morning juice blend you like so much.”

Tommy rolls his eyes as he finishes washing and rinsing for real this time. Juice. How the hell did he ever get so lucky?

 

By the time Tommy’s finished and dried off, the bedroom’s absolutely silent. Tommy presses his ear to the door to make sure, but even that’s not enough. He has to open the door just a little and peek around it to be certain. He’s already had enough sharing for one morning. He really doesn’t want to strut his skinny, little ass in front of Adam when it’s covered in nothing but a towel. Except his ass isn’t his, he reminds himself, as he looks back at the mirror one last time, admiring the curves. Damn, I’d fuck that, he thinks before he realizes it, and immediately erases the history of the thought from his mind.

When he’s satisfied that no one’s in the bedroom, Tommy makes his way out. He can’t see why Adam doesn’t have closets and a dressing area attached to the bathroom, anyway. All the fancy houses in the magazines seem to be set up that way. But at least he has the chance to look for clothes in private, so it’s all good, he supposes.

Except he discovers it’s not all good as soon as he gets to the closet. He kinda expected more of a variety to choose from, but it looks like most of the clothes are Adam’s. That shouldn’t surprise him, but he still wishes there was something that looked more like what he would be comfortable wearing. The pants are fine. Actually more than fine; they’re perfect. but he doesn’t do sleeveless, and he doesn’t like his shirts tight. There doesn’t seem to be much else, though. There’s not even one hoodie in sight.

Pulling one of the older, more worn tees out, Tommy slips it over his head and knows immediately that it has to be a favorite. It’s still a little tight for Tommy’s tastes, but it’s soft, and stretchy, and even a little threadbare in spots. Feeling it next to his skin is the closest he’s felt to home since he woke up.

Making his way back to the bathroom, Tommy tries his best to do something with his damp hair, but he doesn’t have a fucking clue about how it’s supposed to be styled. He can picture the swirly curls that Sauli combs into it, and he has to admit, he thinks it’s pretty damned cute. He just doesn’t know where the hell to start to get it to look like that.

And when he turns the water on and goes to reach for a toothbrush - yeah, he has no idea which toothbrush to use. Fuck, he doesn’t even know where the toothpaste is. Probably in one of the little drawers, but he’s still not ready to explore them. No, he just wets his finger and runs it across his teeth, hoping it’s good enough. When he’s done, he smiles at his reflection, something he’s done since he was little, and it hits him all over again that this person in the mirror isn’t him.

Tommy tries to hold it together as he heads down to the kitchen, but that last look in the mirror made it feel real. This is some strange shit, and he’s totally feeling fucking lost right about now. Just as Adam’s walking over to hand him a glass of some kind of juice that looks more like vegetables puked than anything else, Adam’s phone rings. Tommy cringes as he recognizes Raja’s voice singing Diamond Crowned Queen.

The voice coming from the other end is loud enough for Tommy to hear it, especially since Adam has to pull the phone as far away from his ear as he can. He could probably even make out both sides of the conversation if he were at all interested, because Adam doesn’t seem to be worried about keeping it private.

“Slow down, Sutan. I can’t understand anything you’re saying.” Adam’s still holding the phone away from his ear because it’s not volume that’s making it hard to understand. Even Tommy can hear how fast the words are coming out of the phone, as he goes about making his own coffee, and he’s planning on making the strongest fucking coffee ever. It’s like Sutan’s trying to get everything he wants to say out in one breath.

While he’s going through Adam’s cupboards, looking for something salty or sweet to go with his coffee, he overhears enough of the conversation to catch his interest.

“Whataya mean, something’s wrong with Tommy?”

Tommy loses the next few words, because Adam pulls the phone in close to make sure he hears, but when the volume gets to be too much again, he holds it away from him again, and Tommy hears Sutan’s voice. “...Jogging, Adam! Tommy’s never jogged in his life! He’ll be back any minute, and I don’t have a fucking clue what to do with him.”

Tommy finds a bag of chips hidden in the back of the pantry. Checking the date and finding it only recently expired, he shrugs and opens it, sniffing the contents in the age old dude fashion before reaching in to retrieve one from the bag. He pops it into his mouth as he hops up on the counter, listening to Adam’s conversation, because this is getting goddamn good.

“Maybe he just wanted to work off last night’s drinking. Hell, I don’t know, maybe he’s turning over a new leaf. Just quit yelling, ‘kay? You’re breaking my fucking eardrums.”

“Fuck your goddamn delicate eardrums, Adam, and fuck you, too! I need some help here! The boy is possessed. He was speaking in tongues or something before he left. I don’t know exactly what he was saying, but he certainly got his point across. He’s madder than a hornet, honey, and I don’t want to get stung.”

“Shit, Sutan, I don’t know what to tell you.” Adam runs his free hand down his as yet unshaven cheek, and Tommy almost feels sorry for the frustration he sees there. “It’s been freaky as hell here, too. See if you can calm Tommy down enough to bring him over when he gets back. Maybe we can figure this out together.”

When Adam hangs up, Tommy holds out his cup of steaming coffee. Looking at Adam’s worried face he asks, “Got any whiskey for this?”

Tommy’s sitting on the couch, flipping through channels. It’s all he’s been doing for the last half hour. Adam had tried talking to him at first, but there were too many questions and not enough answers. They’d both gotten frustrated awfully damn fast, and Tommy had planted himself in front of the TV, vegging out to the changing pictures while he worked his way through the bag of not quite stale chips and a beer he’d found in the fridge.

He thinks Adam’s still in the kitchen, waiting for Sutan and Sauli to get there, keeping himself busy and distracted by emptying the dishwasher one glass at a time. Except Adam and Sutan think Sauli’s him. It’s hard enough for him to keep straight. Every time he catches a glimpse of himself reflected in the television screen, he does a double take, and he’s fucking expecting it by now. Tommy wonders if Sauli’s figured it out and made peace with whatever non-reality they’re living in, but then he wonders if Sauli-who-looks-like-Tommy even exists outside of direct contact with him, and that’s just too fucked up and cryptic for his brain to wrap itself around. He still thinks it’s probably some kind of hallucinatory shit or something, but there’s apparently no way to get around it, so he might as well ride it out, and he’s planning on riding the couch while he rides it out.

Just as he’s got the right one, two, three, flip rhythm going with the remote that’s guaranteed to numb his mind, he hears the doorbell. Whoever the fuck it is out there seems to be pretty damn impatient. Adam’s got some fancy-ass musical doorbell, and before it even gets through its eight bar run, someone’s pressing it again, starting it all over. And over. And fucking over. Then the banging starts, like the person on the other side is offended that the door doesn’t open on its own for them.

Tommy knows who it is and why they would feel offended by being locked out before the yelling starts. Even if he weren’t expecting them to show up at any minute, he can feel who it is. There’s some kind of fucked up connection going on, and Tommy can feel Sauli’s indignation over being locked out of his home, and Tommy can’t blame him. Because no matter what body Tommy’s wearing, he knows this isn’t his home. This is where Sauli belongs. This is Sauli’s haven, Sauli’s place to feel loved and protected, and Tommy can understand the not so quiet desperation he hears behind the, “Open this door now!”

Tommy keeps his eyes on the television screen, because the unreality of TV programming beats the hell out of the unreality of his life right now, but he sees Adam’s reflection as he passes the doorway on his way to let his guests in. Tommy doesn’t want to join the drama that he’s sure is about to erupt - he has enough of his very own to deal with right now - but without consciously realizing he’s doing it, he finds himself on his feet and following Adam to the door.

When Adam opens the door, it would be time for a total freak out, because Tommy sees himself standing right in front of himself, but before the impossibility of the situation starts a full blown panic attack, Tommy sees his other self burying himself against Adam’s chest, and it’s too much. He might’ve had thoughts about doing something like that once upon a time, but he never expected to be seeing it happening from someone else’s perspective. And he’s gotta admit that it’s making him feel things that aren’t his to feel.

The look on Adam’s face cracks him up, though. He’s hugged Adam before. Hell, he’s hugged Adam in front of Sauli before, but it was never like this. No, there’s something more here. Something more intimate. There’s something more possessive and entitled in the way Sauli’s holding onto Adam. Sauli is entitled to do that and feel that, though. It’s just that Adam still can’t accept that it’s Sauli in his arms and not Tommy.

Adam looks at Tommy, and Tommy knows he’s really seeing Sauli - because what’s more believable than what you see with your own two eyes - and his embarrassment shows all over his face. Tommy feels enough of Adam’s pain to tell him, “Take it easy, dude. He’s your boyfriend. He gets to do that.”

Sutan’s been standing in the open doorway, watching and listening so far, but Tommy’s not surprised to hear him break his silence. "SOMEBODY NEEDS TO TELL THE DRAG QUEEN WHAT IS GOING ON HERE! LIKE, YESTERDAY!"

Tommy thinks he better do something, because Sutan's face is turning the most amazing shade of magenta. Taking hold of his friend's arm, he says, "Dude. Take a chill pill."

It doesn't help, though. It seems like Sutan's had enough of him for one day, even if it wasn't really him Sutan had to deal with this morning. "YOU. STOP. TALKING."

Even Sauli tries to settle things down, but he doesn't know any more than anyone else. "I'm sorry, Sutan. I have no idea what’s going on."

And since Sauli is wearing the face and body that's been giving Sutan apoplexy all day, the only answer he gets is, "YOU. SILENCE."

Adam looks like he's afraid to move, let alone say anything. "...Can I talk?" he asks, because by this point, everyone knows to ask Sutan's permission for anything.

"Yes. Yes, you may. You're NORMAL. Well, normal for you."

"Maybe we should go into the kitchen to talk. We can all sit down," Adam tells them. "I have coffee and sweet rolls."

"Since when do we keep sweet rolls here?" Sauli asks, but hearing the words come out of Tommy's mouth with a Finnish accent throws Adam into a state of stuttering confusion. The visuals are telling his brain one thing, but the mannerisms are definitely another. Tommy can see Adam trying to make the right mental connections to process what's going on, but he has enough chaos in his own mind to keep him busy for the rest of his life. He doesn’t have the patience to walk Adam through this.

"Told ya, man. I'm not who you think I am." Tommy makes a gesture in Sauli's general direction and adds, "Neither is he. When you work that out, let me know, m'kay?"

With that, he leaves the group, making his way back to the comfort and undemanding mental state he left in the den. Except it seems he can't escape it. Not entirely, anyway. Sauli follows him, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around just as they enter the room. "We must talk, I think. You and I."

It seems like everything that’s been happening so far in this most fucked up day ever comes crashing down right them. All the strangeness, all the confusion, all the fucking emotions; they all seem to intensify and merge and grow, and by the time he looks into eyes that should by all rights be his, he feels like all the air in the world’s disappeared, and he’s suffocating and gasping and ready to explode.

“Unless you know what the fuck’s going on, and have some fucking idea about how to make it right, I don’t think we have anything to fucking talk about.” Some part of Tommy knows that whatever’s happening isn’t Sauli’s fault anymore than it’s his, but he’s so damn close to losing himself in anger that it takes a little time and a lot of willpower to bring himself back. He feels his nostrils flaring as he pulls in not-so-calming breaths while his jaw clenches and unclenches in time to his heartbeat.

At first, he’s so lost in his red-hot anger that he doesn’t notice how intently Sauli’s staring at him. He can't see beyond the fire of his own disordered mind enough to pick up the look of wonder on the other man's face. He can't push the jumble and crash of his own thoughts aside, and he completely misses the change in the atmosphere.

When he does notice Sauli’s hand reaching out towards him, he hits it away in annoyance. “What the fuck, man?” he asks, because he can’t process anything beyond his own feelings, and trying to figure out why Sauli would be trying to touch him is confusing and frustrating - two things he’s had more than his share of today.

It surprises Tommy to see that while Sauli’s ignoring his outburst, he’s definitely not ignoring Tommy. He’s staring at Tommy, just not at his face. “Do that again, please,” Sauli asks, looking at what Tommy thinks is his shoulder. He wonders if he used the wrong shampoo or something, and he has flakes. He wonders if maybe he’s hunching in on himself like he usually does when he wants the world to leave him alone, and it’s making Sauli mad. He wonders just what could be making Sauli look at him like that, with all the intensity in the world, because it’s making Tommy feel things. It’s starting to freak him the fuck out because Sauli really seems fixated on him, and it’s his own eyes that Sauli’s using to stare holes right through him. He really needs to make his mind take a second to process things, but he can’t find a way to break the thought train that keeps circling, and circling, and circling.

Tommy finally manages to take a deep, trembling breath, but Sauli picks that same instant to run the back of his fingertips lightly over the side of Tommy’s neck, and Tommy can add shivers to the trembling he’s going through. There’s something so surreal about feeling his own hand touching him in such a gentle, intimate way, especially when he’s not wearing his own hand at the time.

He tries to swallow, but his throat’s so damn dry all of a sudden, and he can feel individual muscles working in slow motion to accomplish it. “D-do...what again...exactly?” Tommy stammers, trying not to lean into the hand that’s still making fluttering contact with his neck.

But when Tommy feels Sauli’s fingers tracing the same pattern over and over, he can’t fight it anymore. He arches his neck into the touch while his eyes slowly close. When he hears Sauli answer him, his voice is so close - close enough to Tommy’s ear that he can feel Sauli’s breath.

“Make it move. Make it fly,” Sauli answers, not moving away at all. Tommy swears he can feel the tip of Sauli’s nose brushing against the skin of his neck, against the ink of the tattoo that he remembers seeing there. “When you do that thing with your jaw, it almost looks as if it’s dancing.”

Something about standing here in another man’s body while that aforementioned other man inspects him is strangely enthralling. It’s sure as fuck a situation that Tommy never imagined he’d be in, but finding himself in the middle of it now, he doesn’t want to do anything to break whatever spell seems to have fallen over him.

It’s more than just being so close to Sauli that’s messing up his mind, though. It’s the same connection he thinks he remembers feeling last night before everything went fuzzy as shit, only now it’s amplified because he’s stone cold sober. He can see through his eyes and Sauli’s eyes. He can feel what he’s feeling and what Sauli’s feeling. He can hear his thoughts in his head, but he can hear some of Sauli there too - not exact thoughts, maybe, but more of the emotion behind the thoughts. Everything is so fucked up and hard to unravel that it’s easier to just give in and let it all wash over him.

He feels the cold metal of the piercings he’s had since forever brush against his cheek as Sauli leans in even closer. He feels the wetness of Sauli’s tongue tracing ever so gently over the tattooed butterfly, but he feels himself doing the leaning and the tasting right along with Sauli. And the shiver he feels going right down his spine and straight to his dick? Yeah, he can feel Sauli shivering, too. It’s like they’re inside each other’s skin, which Tommy thinks is technically right, but it’s more. It’s more like they’re inside each other’s skin together; like they’re sharing and inhabiting both bodies at once, and that’s too much fucking shit to try and work his way through.

All Tommy knows right now is that this feels right and good and necessary. He needs this like he’s never needed anything else before. There’s some kind of pull between them that’s like a fucking itch under his skin that just keeps getting worse and worse and so damn much worse that it’s driving him insane, and the only way to make it stop is when Sauli touches him, or holds him and controls him, which Sauli seems perfectly comfortable with. Tommy never would have expected that. He knew Sauli had a feisty side, but he never really thought about it coming out this way.

But Sauli is taking charge of this little meeting of the minds, or whatever it is. He’s even found a way to talk to Tommy without saying anything. Tommy thinks Sauli’s probably got a better line on this whole thing and has worked it out better. It might have been a good idea to let Sauli talk before; he might have even been able to help Tommy sort through some of this. But right now, he’s way the fuck past talking and sorting and thinking. All he wants to do now is find a way to get closer to Sauli, and if the way Sauli’s reacting is any indication, he thinks Sauli wants the same thing.

Tommy can feel the not quite touch of Sauli’s lips tracing a path from the tattoo on his neck, across his jaw line, and right up to his lips. It’s not like Tommy’s not doing his share of exploring either, because that’s exactly what this is. He and Sauli are taking advantage of some fucked up parody of a gift - a gift of being able to know your own body from a different perspective, or some shit like that. Whatever it is, it’s like the trippiest dream he’s ever had.

When he hears Sauli’s voice telling him to open his eyes, it seems like the most natural thing in the world to be sharing thoughts with someone else. And the idea of really seeing what he looks like from an outside perspective is too tempting to piss away. He can feel Sauli giving him permission to inspect the body he’s wearing as closely as Tommy wants and asking that he be given the same consideration. This isn’t just the opportunity of a lifetime; this is like an opportunity beyond life, and Tommy’s starting to get hard just thinking about it.

Tommy knows all the secret spots on his body - the body that Sauli’s wearing now - and how they affect him. Thinking about being able to see how he reacts to having them touched and kissed and teased is such a fucking turn on that his breath catches in his throat. He can see how he looks to other people when he’s lost in passion, and isn’t that just a pretty thought? He thinks that last part may have come from Sauli, but he’s not sure anymore. The lines between who’s saying what and which feelings belong to him and which belong to Sauli have been wiped out completely, and that’s okay with Tommy.

It’s actually more than okay, when he thinks about it, even if thinking is damn hard right now. It's like the best damn thing that ever happened to him, because he’s getting twice the pleasure out of everything. He’s getting hit with twice the want and need, too, and that’s got his dick straining against his pants hard enough to be painful as Sauli’s finger lightly ghosts over a spot on Tommy’s side just below the waistband of his jeans. It’s not a spot that Tommy would have ever thought of as an erogenous zone before, but it has him ready to beg in less than a second. It’s not quite a tickle and not quite a caress, but whatever the fuck it is, Tommy wants more of it, and more of everything else, too.

“You like that,” he hears Sauli saying, and it’s absolutely not a question. “Adam found that spot when we were on vacation. He teased me with it the whole day. He kept it up until all I could do was ask please, and I didn’t even know at that point what I was asking for.”

Sauli crowds right up in Tommy’s personal space, never missing a second with his wicked fingers. “Adam said he loved watching me when he did that to me, and I’ve wondered how I must have looked to him. Now I can see.”

Tommy fights to keep eye contact with Sauli. This is so fucking consuming, and all Tommy wants to do is pull in to himself and wallow in the moment without distractions. But he thinks he owes this to Sauli, and to himself, if he’s honest. When his eyes are open, he can see with a weird-ass mockery of double vision. He sees his own face looking at him with determined, predatory eyes, while he sees what he must look like to Sauli - all naked need and chest heaving, panting.

Tommy feels that dry swallow coming on again, and when Sauli actually kisses the tattooed butterfly this time, he feels himself almost melt. He’s back to the place where there’s not quite enough air, but this time he wants everything but escape.

Both of them are too wrapped up in what they’re doing and seeing and experiencing to notice what’s going on around them, so neither hears Sutan leaving, and it comes as quite a shock when they hear Adam’s voice breaking in on their moment. “Holy shit! You weren’t just talking crazy, were you?”

Adam’s standing in the doorway, staring at them open mouthed. It’s right on the edge of breaking Tommy’s mood, but then Sauli nips at his jaw and teases that place again, and Tommy’s right back to the land of ecstasy. It doesn’t even bother him that Adam and Sauli seem to be having a conversation about what’s going on. He’s perfectly content letting Sauli do the things he’s doing. He could even learn to live in someone else’s body forever if Sauli would promise to spend a few hours every day making him feel this way.

Some part of his brain hears Adam saying, “Only Sauli knows about that.” He really wants to come back with some witty repartee about trying to tell him all morning that things and people weren’t what they looked like, but he’s a little too busy for that right at the minute. He’d need to be able to catch his breath or form thoughts or sentences or shit to do that, but Sauli seems determined to keep him balanced on a very thin edge, and there’s no room for anything except enjoying Sauli’s magic fingers.

Sauli, however, seems to be better at multitasking. Fucker, Tommy thinks as he hears Sauli asking Adam if he remembers the way they’d lain together after, letting the ocean breeze dry the sweat from their bodies, because he can see and feel everything through Sauli’s memories, and damn, it’s getting him closer to losing it right here in the middle of Adam’s den.

Tommy knows that somewhere in the room, Adam and Sauli are talking and reminiscing, using his body, or at least the body he’s wearing, to map out their conversation, but he’s too deep into experiencing the moment to be able to join the conversation. He feels his shirt being lifted and removed, and he thinks it’s Adam doing it, because he hears Adam saying, “Remember when we found out how much you liked this?” just before he kneels down in front of Tommy and sucks the spot right above Tommy's navel, making him arch and squirm.

Tommy feels Sauli’s fingers leave that fucking majestic spot they’ve been torturing for what seems like eternity, and Tommy can’t help but moan at his loss. Adam stands up to catch the sound with a kiss, and, damn, that’s good. Tommy’s just getting into it when Adam breaks it off and goes for that little hollow at the base of his neck. When Adam’s lips press in there, nice and tight, Tommy feels his hips buck and his dick straining against his pants. “I always love it when you do that, Adam,” Tommy hears Sauli say. Tommy can feel the warm, moist breath right behind his ear, and this isn’t fucking fair. They’re double teaming him, ganging up on him, and he can’t fight back. Shit, he’s pretty damn sure there’s not one fucking part of him that wants to fight back, but he would like to be able to catch his breath and concentrate on what feels best.

The only problem is that everything feels best. Adam and Sauli both know more about the body he’s in than he does, and they both know what it likes. Tommy thinks that’s a good thing, because he’s a little too caught up in everything they’re doing to him to be able to offer any suggestions.

There are hands unbuttoning his jeans, and he would ordinarily be a little freaked by that. Hell, under any other circumstances, he'd be panicked as all hell over not taking a more active role in what’s going on. But he hears Sauli’s voice inside his head - inside his fucking mind - telling him to relax and enjoy, and on that level he is participating.

All the things that aren’t coming out in words and actions are there in that fucking mental link thing that they have between them. Sauli’s voice, Sauli’s thoughts and emotions are right there, open to him like there’s no need to keep anything hidden or private. He understands how much Sauli’s getting out of seeing his reaction, seeing what only Adam usually gets to see, and it’s like a gift Tommy’s able to give him.

And in return, Sauli and Adam are giving him the gift of the best damn sex he’s ever had, because they do know this body so fucking much better than he does. They know all its secrets, all its hidden places that usually take years to find, and they’re giving them to him all at once. No wonder he can’t do anything except relax and enjoy the ride.

So Tommy doesn’t fight it as he feels the last of his clothing being removed. He only fights to stay upright as Adam teases a spot that’s high and tight on the inside of his thigh, and Sauli licks right over the base of his tailbone. Why the fucking hell are they still standing in the den doing this, he wonders. He knows Sauli’s hearing his question, because just when he thinks his knees are going to buckle for real, he feels Sauli holding him up, supporting his weight. Tommy’s not gonna lie to himself; he really fucking likes it. He’s never felt his own hand on his skin like this, and seeing how the tendons and veins on his hands and arms stand out while Sauli helps hold him up is sexy in a way Tommy never saw when he was wearing that body.

Sauli looks at Adam over Tommy’s shoulder, and Tommy can feel the the questions and answers going back and forth between them. It’s nothing like the connection that he and Sauli have. What Sauli shares with Adam is natural and organic; it’s the connection between two people who are so in love with each other that they instinctively know what the other wants and needs. Except now Tommy can feel it too. He feels it through his connection with Sauli, and suddenly he’s aware of Adam in a way he hasn’t ever been before. It’s like he can see right into Adam - into his heart or some damn thing - and Tommy knows that Adam’s even more exposed than he was this morning when they woke up next to each other, naked.

Tommy almost pulls away then, almost closes himself off, because he feels like he’s intruding on their private space, but Sauli catches him just in time. He can hear Sauli telling him, “It’s okay. He wants this. We all want this.” Tommy doesn’t even know Sauli said it out loud until he sees Adam nodding in agreement.

So now they’re three, connected by some strange mind merging thing he and Sauli have going on, and by the emotional connection that Adam and Sauli have. The lines and links are all so clear if Tommy wants to think about them, but he’s happy just to know that he’s welcomed and wanted and part of it. He’s not a sex toy for them to play with; he fucking belongs.

Sauli still has his arms wrapped around Tommy from the back, hands resting on Tommy’s chest so Tommy can feel the very calluses he’s spent years building scraping against his skin, when he says, “Maybe we should take this somewhere more accommodating.”

Tommy tells him a silent thank you, and he’s past the point of being surprised when he hears Sauli answer him out loud. “Adam’s bed is very comfortable. I’m sure we’ll all enjoy this much more there.”

Tommy pulls in a deep breath, trying to make his brain remember how to move and walk, but Sauli picks that moment to reach down and give Tommy’s junk a little squeeze. Fucker! Tommy thinks again as his legs do finally give out on him, but Sauli and Adam both seem to have been expecting this reaction, because before he knows it, they’re both holding him up, half carrying him, half leading him upstairs and to the bedroom.

“I never thought it was fair when Adam did that to me,” Sauli whispers in his ear, “but I love the way you looked when I did it to you.” Tommy can feel Sauli’s smile behind him, even if he can’t see his face.

When they get to the bedroom, Sauli climbs all the way up on the bed, so his back is against the headboard. He pulls Tommy with him, so Tommy’s back is resting against Sauli’s chest, while Adam takes his place kneeling on the bed in front of both of them, and Tommy’s perfectly happy with this arrangement. Somewhere along the way, both Adam and Sauli seem to have lost their clothes, and this time Tommy doesn’t feel like he’s doing something he shouldn’t be doing when he looks at Adam’s naked body.

He can feel Sauli behind him, skin pressed against skin, and he’s more than a little excited thinking about it being his own dick he can feel against his ass. Sauli’s still showing Tommy secrets about this body, like how playing with the fine hairs on the back of his neck just right makes Tommy’s toes curl and his dick twitch. Like how tweaking his nipple makes Tommy see stars and buck his hips. Like how running his finger down his ass makes Tommy want to fucking beg. And all the while, Adam’s watching, smiling and encouraging, and reaching for something that Tommy’s too far gone to even wonder about.

Tommy tips his head back against Sauli’s chest, looking up into eyes that are so familiar, yet so strange. He can’t help the way his eyes close a little every time his chest heaves with a breath he has to fight for, and he wonders how he looks to them. He hears twin whispers of "beautiful" and encouragement to just let himself go, and he’s happy to lose himself in the attention and the fucking intensity that’s all around him.

He feels a hand on his dick, and a slick, slippery finger teasing against his hole, and he opens his eyes enough to see Adam looking at him. Tommy’s seen Adam in all kinds of settings and wearing all kinds of emotions on his face, but he’s never seen him like this. There’s something new there, something expectant and commanding at the same time, something dark and loving and sweet and terrible, and Tommy would do anything Adam asked him to right now.

He hears Sauli whispering to him that he can never refuse Adam anything when he looks like that either, and Tommy knows he means absolutely never. Tommy doesn’t think there’s much either one of them refuses the other, judging by how well they both know this body he’s in.

Sauli holds him, whispering to him, encouraging and distracting him, while Adam works him open. It’s the most care and attention Tommy can ever remember getting at one time, and it’s fucking beautiful. He’d stay here forever, all open for them if he could, and he doesn’t think they’d object. They have some kind of inherent rhythm going as Adam works his finger in, and Sauli lets him slide down on it. When Adam pulls his finger out, Sauli pulls him in closer again, so he won’t mourn the loss of contact.

Adam keeps telling him how well he’s doing, while Sauli silently tells him to just breathe and trust; the body he’s in can take this. Even if it’s Tommy's first time doing this, it isn’t his body’s first time. Tommy does trust them both, but he can’t help tensing a little, because this is so not how he thought he’d ever be spending an afternoon, but he’s surprised at how gentle Adam’s big, strong hands are whenever he feels Tommy tightening up.

Tommy’s not sure how the logistics of this thing are gonna work. He thinks it’ll probably be Adam who fucks him, because....well, just because he’s Adam. He’s not exactly prepared for feeling Sauli’s dick pressing against him once Adam finishes prepping him, but he’s not disappointed either. He might even giggle a little over the thought of how often he’s been told to go fuck himself, and now that’s what’s happening, even if it is in a strange ass kinda way.

Tommy knows that Adam’s trying to distract him when he leans down and takes Tommy’s dick in his mouth all in one go, but that doesn’t mean Tommy can't enjoy it, does it? Tommy’s known for years that Adam has a fucking talented mouth and tongue, but this is something beyond anything he’s ever even thought of. This is so far past his fantasy of the perfect blow job that he thinks he damn well might cry. Adam’s mouth holds him in its wet heat, while his tongue surrounds and plays and dips and swirls, and Tommy can’t even describe what else it’s doing, except making him feel like he wants to push Adam away at the same time that he wants to fuck so far down Adam’s throat that he won’t be able to breathe.

Just when he hits that point where he has no idea which way to go, but he still knows he has to do something and do it now, Tommy feels the head of Sauli’s dick - his dick, he tells himself - sliding into him, and that connection thing they had before? Yeah, that’s back, but about a million times stronger.

All the little pieces that were there before come together and hit him at once, only they’re amped and clarified, and just more there. It’s not like they’ve traded bodies, or like they’re sharing thoughts anymore. No, now it’s like they’re one living, breathing unit. They are Tommy and they are Sauli, but neither one of them is one single thing. Tommy thinks that’s the kind of thought that he would think is fucking deep if he were stoned, but right now he just doesn’t care.

He’s the one who bucks up, pushing himself deeper into himself, and damn, that’s fucking hot. He’s also the one who grinds down harder on his own cock, taking himself all the way in, and the gasp his Sauli part lets out only makes him more determined to do it again, and again, and again.

Tommy feels Adam’s mouth pulling off his dick, and he reaches out with one of his arms - he's not sure which set it’s from, nor does he fucking care to figure it out right now - trying to pull him back. But Adam’s just out of reach, sitting there with a glazed look, jacking his own cock, and Tommy can’t fault him for doing that.

Besides, he’s got four of his own hands at his disposal, and he picks one at random and wraps it around his dick, picking up the same rhythm he can see Adam using. The thrust, double jack pace takes over the whole room and the three of them, and Tommy’s not sure how long he can keep going on either side.

Tommy’s the first to come, feeling his balls pull up tight and the pressure hit that critical level before he feels the rush. His spunk lands mostly on Adam, who moved back in close while Tommy was too occupied to notice. The combination of seeing that, and feeling Tommy tighten around him, brings Sauli over the edge, too. Except it’s not like they each had their own separate orgasm. No, they both experienced both of them within a matter of seconds, and neither one has the energy to even breathe for a minute or two.

Tommy thinks they must make a damn decadent picture, all boneless and messy and curled up in each other, because he swears he hears Adam whine just before he comes, too.

Lying there, spent and sweaty, Tommy feels a quiet disappointment somewhere deep inside, and it confuses him at first. Some small part of him almost expected a grand theatrical exchange to take place when he came, expected the cosmos to be set right, and things to be put back to normal, but he’s still in the wrong body. The wrong body for him, anyway.

Since Sauli’s dick isn’t inside him any longer, the absolute oneness Tommy and Sauli shared isn’t there anymore, but there’s still a connection, and Sauli can feel Tommy slipping into postcoital melancholy. He reaches out and brushes a few stray hairs off Tommy’s forehead, twirling them around his finger and letting them fall into the perfect swirls that eluded Tommy earlier. “It doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Sauli tells him quietly, leaning his forehead against Tommy’s. “We have to spend our time together, get to know each other. If we learn to impersonate each other, we can go out in public without causing talk.”

Adam puts an arm around each of them, pulling them close as he says, “I don’t think spending time together sounds like a bad thing. We can stay here together, keep the world away until you two are ready to face it. Maybe we could go someplace quiet and tropical for a while. You two could take all the time you need. I kinda like watching you get to know each other.”

It all sounds good, and it all sounds fun, but it feels fucking wrong to Tommy. Even if he could learn to talk like Sauli, and walk like Sauli, and even dress like Sauli, he could never be Sauli. He’d still be himself with his own thoughts and his own feelings. And Sauli could never be him, either. They’d both be living a lie, and it would end up tearing them both apart from the inside out.

Adam takes charge then, because Adam always takes charge when someone’s feeling down. He pulls them both in tight, holds them close to all that warmth and tells them not to worry about it, to let it go until morning. They can all think about it and see it more clearly in the morning, after a good night’s sleep. Adam tells them that they’re all together in this, and that together they’ll find a way to deal with it.

They stay that way for a long time, probably for most of the night, just feeling each other near, taking strength from the warmth and presence of the others. Sometimes they talk; sometimes they just breathe. It’s quiet and calm, but Tommy doesn’t think it’ll stay that way for long. Tommy watches the other two drift off, finally falling asleep himself sometime just before dawn.

Tommy’s not sure at first what it is that wakes him up. There’s just a sense that he has things to take care of, and the sooner he faces them, the better. But when he tries to roll over to go find his clothes, Adam’s arm wraps around him, holding him tight. “Lay still, Sauli,” Adam says, his voice husky with sleep. “You’ll wake up Tommy.”

Tommy rolls his eyes, even though Adam can’t see it since he’s trying to go back to sleep, and his eyes are closed again. “Wrong again, Lambert. I thought you finally got all this straight in your head yesterday.”

Tommy almost laughs right out loud when he sees Adam’s eyes fly open, because it brings back memories of yesterday morning. “Tommy?”

“Yeah.”

“Umm, maybe you should find a mirror or something. Take a look at yourself. Because you look like Tommy again. The real Tommy.”

Tommy knows he doesn’t need a mirror. He just holds his arms out and looks at them. He’s never been so happy to see Freddy and Jason and Regan and all the others as he is right now. He’s so happy that he grabs Adam and holds him tight as he says, “Fucking A, man. I’m me again.”

Sauli shushes them both and says, “I’m still sleeping here. You need to be quiet.”

Tommy really wants to wake him up and share the good news, but before he can, Sauli’s arm reaches to pull them back to a more relaxed position in the bed. When Sauli’s fingers settle on Tommy’s skin, he swears everything wavers and ripples, and he can see the vestiges of the dream Sauli was having.

Tommy’s breath catches, and he freezes in place while Sauli sits up with eyes wide open. Adam looks from one to the other and back again and says, “I don’t think the fun’s over yet.”