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Title: Four Times Adam and Blake Flirted and One Time They Didn’t
Pairing: Adam Levin/Blake Shelton of The Voice; see
adamblake_rps :D
Rating/Warning: NC-17
Words: 1,400
Summary: Adam and Blake joke and bicker behind the scenes, too. And then they don’t.
Note: Thanks to
raeschae for answering my stupid questions on this thing.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and know nothing.
I.
At the first judges’ meeting, mostly for NBC to puff their egos and convince all four celebrities to sign on the dotted line, Adam confirmed that: yes, Cee Lo was smooth like silk and fuck yes, Christina’s rack was a most excellent thing.
And then there was Blake Shelton. All six-and-a-half feet of slack jawed, country y’alls, and Adam wanted to laugh in the guy’s face. Except when they shook hands, Blake’s hold dwarfed Adam’s. Then he squeezed tight and Adam swore he could hear the tiny pop-pop-pop of each bone across his wrist.
“Jesus Christ, you’re big,” Adam said, rather stupidly if he were being honest.
“That’s what she said,” Blake replied. His wide mouth opened on a smirk and his hand just kept on shaking.
“Well, of course,” he smirked. “Big dude like you, she’s gonna say a lot of things.”
Blake nodded, his wide face bright and happy despite his rugged country looks. “They all do.”
“Well, yeah, I’m sure,” Adam said. “And the guys?” he ventured with a high eyebrow.
“The guys love me,” he replied immediately. And then he smacked at Adam’s shoulder, and Adam’s sure he would fall flat on his face if he didn’t have decent reflexes. The dude’s freaking big. “See ya later, Midget!”
II.
Adam wasn’t ready for make-up – nor were they ready for him – but he lacked anything to do while he waited for his session. He roamed the halls, gave Christina a sharp high eyebrow as they passed one another, and then came up short at the doorway to makeup.
Blake wasn’t really sitting in the makeup chair; it was more like sprawling. All long, thick legs spread out far before him and broad shoulders that sat higher than the back of the tall director’s chair.
Adam snorted at the sight of a giant too large for his perch, and it drew Blake’s attention.
“What’re you doing, Midge?” Blake asked, all lazy and low as always.
Midge, yeah, Blake was so clever, always mocking. But Adam could dish it right back. “Being cool,” Adam replied with a smile. “So, you know, doing my thing.”
“That must be pretty boring.”
Adam chuckled and walked to the makeup counter behind the artist at work. As he pulled himself up to sit on the heavy wood shelf, he kept his eye on the woman spreading concealer beneath Blake’s eyes. Blake didn’t really need it, Adam thought. Sure, his face was a bit pale without it, and those circles were likely from a few too many fingers of whiskey, but there was enough character to him that it should remain as is.
Still, there was no lost cause in saying the opposite. “Did you model when you were a youngin’?”
“Are you jealous?” Blake asked, eyes flicking over the makeup artist’s shoulder even as the rest of his face remained mostly still.
He nodded. “I am. I most certainly am.”
“I knew it. But I’m used to it by now.”
Adam shifted forward with his hands gripping the edges and he grinned. “You’re just so pretty, Blake. You’re a very pretty man.”
“That I am,” Blake replied slowly. “And you’re very not. It’s amazing you’ve gotten this far foolin’ folks about it.”
Just as the artist began to pull an eyeliner pencil beneath Blake’s eyes, Adam hopped off the counter and leaned in behind her to watch. “It’s amazing how far make-up’s gotten to dress you up so pretty.”
“Wait, what,” Blake asked and turned towards Adam. The pencil slid right across his temple, making the make-up artist swearing. Blake, too.
Adam tugged at the sides of Blake’s hair, salty strands standing out against his tan fingers. “When she’s done, you oughta have her dye your hair,” he said, smirking and tugging again just for fun.
“I hate you, man. Get your ugly mug outta here.”
“Gladly,” Adam laughed and pushed at Blake’s forehead as he left.
III.
“Hey, Midge,” Blake called just as Adam exited the bathroom in the green room.
Adam finished the top button on his jeans and dropped down to big-cushioned arm chair across from the loveseat Blake was leaning into. “What’s up? You bored?”
“Why else would I come talk to you?”
Laughing, Adam tipped his head back and knocked it against the top of the chair. “You’re so funny.”
“It’s why you like me, I know,” Blake replied, dragging the words out and nodding slowly.
Adam gave him a sideways look. “There is nothing about you that I like. Don’t fool yourself.”
“Why you gotta be so mean, Midge?” he asked as leaned further into the couch that couldn’t really contain him. He seemed insulted, but there was a light shine to his eyes that Adam was beginning to know so well. “I’m here, trying to be nice, and hang out, and all you got is piss and vinegar.”
“Did I hurt your feelin’s?” Adam asked, dipping his voice into southern roots, but not the least bit guilty.
“A little bit, yes, you did.” Blake frowned to add to his gloomy tone, yet Adam grinned in return.
“Aww, you’re so hurt,” he joked, leaned forward, and patted Blake’s knee, squeezing for a moment. He made a thoughtful look at the strength beneath the jeans. He’d remember that later.
IV.
In wardrobe, the assistant picked lint from the hem of Adam’s shirt. Blake stood just a few feet away as he buttoned his crisp white shirt, and their eyes met in the mirror Blake was at.
Adam laughed, “Man, you’re so eating that Big Country life.”
Blake patted his stomach and grinned in return. “I’m a big boy. I gotta feed.”
“Big boy, sure,” he laughed again.
Taking his time, Blake looked Adam over and made a face. “They making you wear girls’ clothes now?”
“What’re you talking about?” he asked. He tried to avoid Blake’s eyes as he rolled the sleeves of his pocket tee, but he couldn’t ignore the slide of Blake’s voice.
“I mean, how tight are those pants? Jesus Christ, can you breathe?”
Adam tugged at the waist of his dark jeans. “I can breathe plenty. What’re you worried about?”
“Just would hate for you to pass out,” Blake replied. “I’d make Cee Lo give you mouth to mouth.”
He laughed, tipping his head down and making sure he was set to go on stage for the opening number. Then he started cackling as Blake pulled a vest into place. Even with Blake’s tie in place, the cowboy boots did little to sell the outfit as all that formal, no matter how hard he tried. “Man, you’re just living the dream now, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, and your combat boots are just so classy.”
Adam smiled right at Blake. “I’m gonna sell it. Don’t you worry.”
I.
“I told you they weren’t too tight,” Adam rushed out on a heavy breath.
Blake laughed as he flipped the last of Adam’s button-fly open. “I was just testin’ you,” he drawled, pushing his hand into the v of the jeans and groping without pause.
Adam’s pulse jacked up when Blake’s fingers slipped inside his briefs and his other hand pushed the denim down enough to get a good rhythm going. His mind flew through so many images, namely grabbing Blake with a rough hand around his neck, all so he could nail Blake’s lips with a harsh kiss. But beard burn would do neither of them any good when they were due to go live in no time.
He just closed his eyes and dropped his head to Blake’s shoulder, breaths harsh and unsteady. He couldn’t find a reason to hide how it felt to go for weeks of battling Blake on in front of the cameras and behind the scenes then not enjoy the moment.
Recalling all the barbs and heavy looks they’ve traded since day one, Adam let himself go and ignored any shame for the whimpers that left his mouth as he came, twitching against Blake.
Blake leaned back with a proud grin, watching Adam fix his jeans. “Now who’s the pretty one?” He smirked and leaned in for a quick brush of a kiss.
Adam took his time to bring his brain back to the present and he realized Blake was already leaving the dressing room, pulling the door almost closed. He couldn’t care, because the overhead call system was already calling for all talent to the studio.
Soon enough, they were on stage, plowing through the opening number, and when Blake sidled up to Adam as he ran through his guitar solo, Adam admired the bulge of Blake’s thighs as he rocked back and forth. He fully planned to find Blake after the show and return the favor.
Pairing: Adam Levin/Blake Shelton of The Voice; see
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
Rating/Warning: NC-17
Words: 1,400
Summary: Adam and Blake joke and bicker behind the scenes, too. And then they don’t.
Note: Thanks to
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Disclaimer: I own nothing and know nothing.
At the first judges’ meeting, mostly for NBC to puff their egos and convince all four celebrities to sign on the dotted line, Adam confirmed that: yes, Cee Lo was smooth like silk and fuck yes, Christina’s rack was a most excellent thing.
And then there was Blake Shelton. All six-and-a-half feet of slack jawed, country y’alls, and Adam wanted to laugh in the guy’s face. Except when they shook hands, Blake’s hold dwarfed Adam’s. Then he squeezed tight and Adam swore he could hear the tiny pop-pop-pop of each bone across his wrist.
“Jesus Christ, you’re big,” Adam said, rather stupidly if he were being honest.
“That’s what she said,” Blake replied. His wide mouth opened on a smirk and his hand just kept on shaking.
“Well, of course,” he smirked. “Big dude like you, she’s gonna say a lot of things.”
Blake nodded, his wide face bright and happy despite his rugged country looks. “They all do.”
“Well, yeah, I’m sure,” Adam said. “And the guys?” he ventured with a high eyebrow.
“The guys love me,” he replied immediately. And then he smacked at Adam’s shoulder, and Adam’s sure he would fall flat on his face if he didn’t have decent reflexes. The dude’s freaking big. “See ya later, Midget!”
Adam wasn’t ready for make-up – nor were they ready for him – but he lacked anything to do while he waited for his session. He roamed the halls, gave Christina a sharp high eyebrow as they passed one another, and then came up short at the doorway to makeup.
Blake wasn’t really sitting in the makeup chair; it was more like sprawling. All long, thick legs spread out far before him and broad shoulders that sat higher than the back of the tall director’s chair.
Adam snorted at the sight of a giant too large for his perch, and it drew Blake’s attention.
“What’re you doing, Midge?” Blake asked, all lazy and low as always.
Midge, yeah, Blake was so clever, always mocking. But Adam could dish it right back. “Being cool,” Adam replied with a smile. “So, you know, doing my thing.”
“That must be pretty boring.”
Adam chuckled and walked to the makeup counter behind the artist at work. As he pulled himself up to sit on the heavy wood shelf, he kept his eye on the woman spreading concealer beneath Blake’s eyes. Blake didn’t really need it, Adam thought. Sure, his face was a bit pale without it, and those circles were likely from a few too many fingers of whiskey, but there was enough character to him that it should remain as is.
Still, there was no lost cause in saying the opposite. “Did you model when you were a youngin’?”
“Are you jealous?” Blake asked, eyes flicking over the makeup artist’s shoulder even as the rest of his face remained mostly still.
He nodded. “I am. I most certainly am.”
“I knew it. But I’m used to it by now.”
Adam shifted forward with his hands gripping the edges and he grinned. “You’re just so pretty, Blake. You’re a very pretty man.”
“That I am,” Blake replied slowly. “And you’re very not. It’s amazing you’ve gotten this far foolin’ folks about it.”
Just as the artist began to pull an eyeliner pencil beneath Blake’s eyes, Adam hopped off the counter and leaned in behind her to watch. “It’s amazing how far make-up’s gotten to dress you up so pretty.”
“Wait, what,” Blake asked and turned towards Adam. The pencil slid right across his temple, making the make-up artist swearing. Blake, too.
Adam tugged at the sides of Blake’s hair, salty strands standing out against his tan fingers. “When she’s done, you oughta have her dye your hair,” he said, smirking and tugging again just for fun.
“I hate you, man. Get your ugly mug outta here.”
“Gladly,” Adam laughed and pushed at Blake’s forehead as he left.
“Hey, Midge,” Blake called just as Adam exited the bathroom in the green room.
Adam finished the top button on his jeans and dropped down to big-cushioned arm chair across from the loveseat Blake was leaning into. “What’s up? You bored?”
“Why else would I come talk to you?”
Laughing, Adam tipped his head back and knocked it against the top of the chair. “You’re so funny.”
“It’s why you like me, I know,” Blake replied, dragging the words out and nodding slowly.
Adam gave him a sideways look. “There is nothing about you that I like. Don’t fool yourself.”
“Why you gotta be so mean, Midge?” he asked as leaned further into the couch that couldn’t really contain him. He seemed insulted, but there was a light shine to his eyes that Adam was beginning to know so well. “I’m here, trying to be nice, and hang out, and all you got is piss and vinegar.”
“Did I hurt your feelin’s?” Adam asked, dipping his voice into southern roots, but not the least bit guilty.
“A little bit, yes, you did.” Blake frowned to add to his gloomy tone, yet Adam grinned in return.
“Aww, you’re so hurt,” he joked, leaned forward, and patted Blake’s knee, squeezing for a moment. He made a thoughtful look at the strength beneath the jeans. He’d remember that later.
In wardrobe, the assistant picked lint from the hem of Adam’s shirt. Blake stood just a few feet away as he buttoned his crisp white shirt, and their eyes met in the mirror Blake was at.
Adam laughed, “Man, you’re so eating that Big Country life.”
Blake patted his stomach and grinned in return. “I’m a big boy. I gotta feed.”
“Big boy, sure,” he laughed again.
Taking his time, Blake looked Adam over and made a face. “They making you wear girls’ clothes now?”
“What’re you talking about?” he asked. He tried to avoid Blake’s eyes as he rolled the sleeves of his pocket tee, but he couldn’t ignore the slide of Blake’s voice.
“I mean, how tight are those pants? Jesus Christ, can you breathe?”
Adam tugged at the waist of his dark jeans. “I can breathe plenty. What’re you worried about?”
“Just would hate for you to pass out,” Blake replied. “I’d make Cee Lo give you mouth to mouth.”
He laughed, tipping his head down and making sure he was set to go on stage for the opening number. Then he started cackling as Blake pulled a vest into place. Even with Blake’s tie in place, the cowboy boots did little to sell the outfit as all that formal, no matter how hard he tried. “Man, you’re just living the dream now, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, and your combat boots are just so classy.”
Adam smiled right at Blake. “I’m gonna sell it. Don’t you worry.”
“I told you they weren’t too tight,” Adam rushed out on a heavy breath.
Blake laughed as he flipped the last of Adam’s button-fly open. “I was just testin’ you,” he drawled, pushing his hand into the v of the jeans and groping without pause.
Adam’s pulse jacked up when Blake’s fingers slipped inside his briefs and his other hand pushed the denim down enough to get a good rhythm going. His mind flew through so many images, namely grabbing Blake with a rough hand around his neck, all so he could nail Blake’s lips with a harsh kiss. But beard burn would do neither of them any good when they were due to go live in no time.
He just closed his eyes and dropped his head to Blake’s shoulder, breaths harsh and unsteady. He couldn’t find a reason to hide how it felt to go for weeks of battling Blake on in front of the cameras and behind the scenes then not enjoy the moment.
Recalling all the barbs and heavy looks they’ve traded since day one, Adam let himself go and ignored any shame for the whimpers that left his mouth as he came, twitching against Blake.
Blake leaned back with a proud grin, watching Adam fix his jeans. “Now who’s the pretty one?” He smirked and leaned in for a quick brush of a kiss.
Adam took his time to bring his brain back to the present and he realized Blake was already leaving the dressing room, pulling the door almost closed. He couldn’t care, because the overhead call system was already calling for all talent to the studio.
Soon enough, they were on stage, plowing through the opening number, and when Blake sidled up to Adam as he ran through his guitar solo, Adam admired the bulge of Blake’s thighs as he rocked back and forth. He fully planned to find Blake after the show and return the favor.