take me home ch. 2

Things resumed some level of normality.
Both of them knew.
Both of them would never speak of it again.
It would remain a blip on the radar that would be tangled in their better memories.

“Can I ask you a question?” Adam said the instant everyone left the room.
“You just did,” Tommy stated, looking everywhere but the pain that was Adam’s eyes.
“When the tour ends” - Tommy couldn’t help but cringe – “I’m staying in Paris for a few weeks after.”
“Cool.” Tommy picked up a copy of The Rolling Stone with Metallica on the cover and mindlessly flipped through the pages.
“I was gonna ask if you wanted to stay with me.” Adam’s gaze pulled Tommy’s from the magazine. Tommy didn’t say anything. “Please say something.” Please say yes.
“Why should I?” Tommy asked in a monotone.
“Because it will be fun and we’ll have a really great time.” Adam answered like he had been waiting for Tommy to ask this question since forever.
“That’s vague.” Tommy made a slight gesture to the air next to him.
“I’m starting to get really fed up with this hard to get façade you’ve been putting up. I made a mistake, okay? I’m sorry! I’ve told you that a million times. It won’t happen again. Seriously, I try to reach out and be nice to you, treat you like a normal person, and I get this shit? No! That’s not okay, Tommy!” Adam spat. Without giving Tommy time to do anything, he turned on his heel and stalked out the door.

Tommy could still feel Adam’s presence in the room. He set down the magazine, curled up on the couch and tried not to start crying. His breathing was shaky and his eyes were probably getting misty by the way his vision fogged up but he couldn’t fucking cry.
“I’m such a bitch.” He choked out. He hadn’t expected Adam to do that. He should have. He deserved it way sooner. Adam was right. Tommy had led him on like a naïve little puppy and then kicked him out in the cold. All he was doing was try to be nice and spend quality time with his friend. It seemed like their relationship was over.

But because Adam was that kind of guy and Tommy wanted to be that kind of guy, their onstage antics didn’t waver. Adam didn’t give Tommy a chance to talk to him offstage so all he could do was give him apologetic glances whenever he could.
People noticed. They always did with Adam and Tommy.

Taylor approached him in Milan before they went onstage.
“What’s going on with you and Adam?” he shouted over the increasing roar of the crowd.
“Nothing.” Tommy mouthed, mood soiled. Did he really have to answer this shit?
“Well I’m here for you if you wanna talk.” He said before Tommy walked into the strobe lights and became a different person.

Monte confronted him late at night on the bus one night.
“You and Adam are hardly talking anymore,” he stated.
“And?” Tommy retorted, irritation escalating.
“It’s just weird. Did anything happen?” Monte asked.
“No.” Tommy said tersely, getting up to go to bed.
The bunk would remind him of that night. Of Adam’s body on top of him, heat radiating off of him in tidal waves. He hadn’t been able to sleep in it for days after. The memories still grabbed at him like thin tendrils trying to tear him asunder from time to time. He couldn’t stand it. But if he slept anywhere else, everybody would eventually connect the dots.
“Tommy, I’m not an idiot.” Monte replied.
Tommy turned around. “I just should have said yes to Paris.” He spat and stalked off to the bunk. He would have nightmares that night.

take me home ch.1

The last drops of alcohol trickled down, bitter on his tongue. There was nothing quite like that slight buzz in the back of his head after a bottle.
In the mirror was the reflection of a strange being, lips painted smoldering blue and eyes accented by a shadowy black under the cover of blonde locks. There was nothing quite like the way he looked on stage.

Shrugging off his costume and throwing it in the hamper, he began to smell less of marijuana. It wouldn’t come off his breath. He didn’t want it to anyway.
The sensation up being bent backwards, his lips crashing up against his, the scent of combination and weed on his breath. There was screaming – yes – lots of it. Some far off place where it came from was irrelevant.
Slipping into a simple outfit unlike the elaborate ones he wore on stage, he felt more at home. The soft, familiar fabric on his skin.
The bass drum booming in his ear, snare sounding off like one thousand bullets being shot off were not really there. Hearing each individual string as they were strummed was only him. It didn’t register to anybody else.
Dragging a small make up removing wipe across his eyes, tugging at the places it clung to his lids. Wiping the sticky lipstick off, although to no avail, was comforting. Comfort was all he wanted.
He pulled away, launching back into the chorus as if it had no effect on him. But if only he knew the effect he had.

Stepping outside to the immense screaming that was the crowd pushing up against the hardly enforced barrier brought him out of the haze.
People would ask.
Thanking each and every one of them even if it was him that should be thanked for taking the time to go through this hell which included being grabbed at by the utmost strangers.
And ask they did.

“Are you two official?”
“When did you start fucking?”
“I wish I had a sexy boyfriend like yours.”

He smiled but dare not answer their catcalls. Nothing was really happening anyway.
That tongue working his mouth open, the steady presence of his body next to his. He couldn’t compare it to anyone. He’d never compare it to anything.
The lights and shouts sent him into a lightheaded daze so he listened to a story of how he was being used and cheated on by someone he wouldn’t ever date.
Whatever sounds that microphone made sliding up and down the strings would remain a turn on for the rest of his life. It wasn’t even a pretty sound; the sound he’d fooled around with, dragging his nail down the thick grooves in each string when he first got the guitar.
He was being ushered away from the tidal wave finally, unsure of what was next.
Nobody was there. Whoever placed their hand reassuringly on the small of his back and led him there was gone.

Worn out, he clambered up the inlaid ladder to his bunk deciding he would lay there and try to forget. Forget everything and just be.
Mind fogged from the pot and alcohol, he lazily collapsed onto his bunk.
Whatever sound came from him was surely inhuman, but it surely jolted him out of his daze.

“Tommy?” his familiar voice murmured. The lights were dim but not dim enough that Tommy was unable to scale the ladder.
He looked down at Adam, some shard of light in his clear eyes glinting in the muted light.
“Tommy Joe?”
“Aaadam…?” something of the insane emotion flitting through his head must have showed. He wondered whether it was the way his voice trembled or the way he could barely complete those two syllables.
“Um,” and he was kissing him.

His lips were soft and apologetic, the cherry chapstick leaving nothing but a faint flavor on his lips.

“Do you even know?” Tommy pulled away, not looking at Adam as he was pulled onto the bunk from the ladder. Whatever he implied by the question, Adam understood.
“Tell me,” Adam whispered, lips close to Tommy’s, eyes searching for contact. Tommy could feel Adam’s lashes against his forehead flitting back and forth.
“I…,” Tommy murmured. He finally tilted his chin up and closed the gap between their lips.
It was instant to Adam.
He let his hand trail down the soft cotton of Tommy’s shirt, to the waist of his jeans. He whined into the kiss as it became increasingly passionate.
Adam’s fingers pulled at the denim, resting a hand against the back of Tommy’s head as he did so. They only broke the kiss to breathe.
Tommy’s hand met Adam’s, first as a way to help him. Then his thin fingers wrapped around Adam’s wrist firmly.

“Stop.” He said suddenly, with much more force than intended. He planned to take Adam’s hand away but it shot away at the word instantly. It reminded him of spraying a cat with water.
“I’m sorry.” Adam said, pulling away from Tommy’s body and into a sitting position across the bunk.
There was a long silence after Tommy had sat up.

“I’m straight.” Tommy said. It was more a way to convince, remind himself than to tell Adam. Because Adam knew.
“It’s not my place…” Adam answered already getting himself up to leave.
“No,” Tommy said, distant. “It isn’t.”

someone to hold you tight .x

Tommy sat on the couch nervously, giving their small apartment a quick once-over. The stuff for tacos was out and ready for him to make, everything was clean and there was a trail of rose petals leading to the bedroom which was just that- a bed in a room. He was too shy to ask Adam why he couldn’t afford a bigger apartment when he was this loaded. Suddenly he realized he’d forgotten candles. He looked under the sink and in the cabinets for anything but all he could find were paper towels and scented air fresheners. In a last ditch effort, he checked the bathroom. He sighed when there were about ten unused cinnamon candles in the vanity. Placing a few on the table, some in the living room and a few in the bedroom he decided to wait until it got dark to light them. He sat back down on the couch, eyes flitting between the clock and his outfit. He hadn’t considered dressing up for the occasion so the fitting Metallica shirt and skinny jeans would do. He had only put on some eyeliner and was now playing with his hair as he waiting for Adam to come home.

Adam slipped his key into the elevator so it would just fucking let him up to the right floor and into his damn apartment. After about four tries the doors open. He knew it was his fault for being so angry he couldn’t hold the card still long enough for the scanner to pick it up. He made an effort to be pleasant to the older woman in the elevator but when she got off on the third floor he sunk to his knees, pulling at his hair in some blind rage.

“Fucking… paparazzi.” He choked out. He had a horrible day, and to top it off those stupid things had to be up in his face with their flashing bulbs and taunting words. He had only just left the building in which they’d interviewed him for some website to discover they didn’t have any transportation and Lane wasn’t in town at the moment due to some family issues. He couldn’t hail down a cab since it was rush hour so after giving up on that, he walked five blocks to a bus station to get to the apartment complex in some seedy part of LA. And surprise, the paparazzi had been with him the entire time.

He was brought out of his misery when the elevator came to a sudden halt and the doors pried themselves open. He got up off his ass and left the elevator just in time before the doors closed and it traveled back down to pick up more residents. The mirrors lining the small corridor told him that he looked horrible. His eyeliner was smeared and running down his face, his eyes were puffy and his hair looked like a bird’s nest. And then he remembered it was their anniversary. A year. Tommy would have probably set up the entire apartment for it in that cute way he did every anniversary. Candles, roses, dinner. Adam nearly sank to his knees in self loathing that he would come into the apartment looking like this.

There were only two apartments on the top floor and they were bigger than most of the others in the building and thankfully their neighbors were kind enough to let him come in and wash up. When they asked him what was wrong he didn’t lie. It’s not like this could be over spilt milk or a scraped knee. They let him go clean up in their bathroom where he washed his face, combed and restyled his hair and did his eyes up with a practiced hand. He checked himself over and hell, he looked good even if he was still raging on the inside. He stepped out of the bathroom, thanked the tenants with hugs and kisses and left.

He composed himself at the door to his apartment. Tommy would be on the other side expectantly waiting. It crossed his mind only for a second if he should have told Tommy he’d be late but it was too late. He slipped the card into the handle.
Tommy’s eyes darted up when he heard the clicking at the door. Adam took his breath away. He stood in the door, still in the same plaid shirt, wool jacket and dark wash jeans as this morning but his eyes had changed. They were burning with something, only it was more intense with the smoky eye he must have done before coming home. Tommy didn’t have but a second to admire his boyfriend before Adam’s fingers tangled in the belt loops of his jeans and he was planting a sweet kiss in his lips.

“Hi baby,” he smirked as Adam let his lips linger on the corner of Tommy’s mouth.

“Hello there,” Adam pulled away and blinked. He really couldn’t feel upset now that Tommy was in front of him with his big, brown eyes and pretty face. Fingers still in Tommy’s belt loops, he admired the place. The unlit candles and taco power and meat on the counter. He didn’t want to make a comment as if Tommy was unready or something so he just sat down on the couch pulling Tommy down with him.

Tommy giggled – he was extra giggly tonight – as he fell on top of Adam, resting his palm on the singer’s chest, feeling his heartbeat. It was the only constant in Tommy’s life these days. Shows, touring, the occasional interview and not to mention how his heart fluttered like crazy anytime Adam was near. Adam kissed him for awhile but it was all sweet and chaste. No tongue. That was okay though.
“I need to go make dinner.” Tommy said.
“I thought you could only make pop tarts.” Adam looked at Tommy, almost wondering if he was kidding.
“Yeah but it’s our anniversary so I wanted to try something new. And if I fuck it up we can just go to the store or eat leftovers.” Tommy nuzzled into Adam’s neck and realized he wouldn’t be getting up for a long time if he stayed like this.
“Not the store. I’m so sick of the paparazzi. They just ruin everything.” He said vaguely, trying not to hint at his meltdown earlier.
“What happened?” Tommy was too smart.
“Nothing.” Adam smiled and kissed Tommy, pulling away so he could go make dinner. Tommy gave him an unsure look as he walked into the kitchen. Adam followed him but instead took a seat at the breakfast bar.

He fiddled with the two candles set out on the table as he watched Tommy make the tacos. They talked about stuff that wasn’t fame related and a lot about how Tommy had no fucking idea what he was doing. When Adam offered to help he was denied. “I’m starting to worry about our dinner.” He said finally.
“Don’t!” Tommy hissed as he burned his finger on the stove. Adam got up automatically and was next to Tommy kissing the burn in a matter of seconds. “Thanks.” Tommy looked away trying to hide his blush.
“Let me.” Adam took the spatula and Tommy didn’t complain. He looped his arm around Adam’s and watched him silently make the tacos. Even if Adam had no clue what he was doing, he was a damn good actor.

“It’s done.” Tommy pointed at the meat in the pan that was starting to burn. Adam turned from the lettuce and shut off the stove.
“Then make your taco.” Adam answered, gesturing to the mini-buffet of toppings. Tommy smiled and grabbed two taco shells before filling them with the flavored taco meat. Adam went to the fridge and found an expensive red wine sitting on the top shelf.
“Oh yeah. I got that wine for us tonight.” Tommy said as if he could see Adam’s surprised expression. Adam nodded and poured them each a glass.

Tommy finished making his tacos, set his plate down next to his glass (it was the smaller one since Adam couldn’t trust him with more) and made a frantic dash to find a lighter. He had to reach underneath Adam to get to the drawer where it was hiding and tried to ignore that he was touching Adam’s crotch. Going around the two and a half room apartment lighting all his candles, he realized he could open the balcony door to get a nice breeze. He tugged it open but it was a matter of time before the sirens and barking of a city filled the apartment. Adam gave him an annoyed look so Tommy shut the door with a sheepish smile. They sat down at the table/breakfast bar/piece of shit they ate food on at the same time.

“To us!” Adam lifted his wine glass apparently catching Tommy by surprise. He lifted his glass and smiled when they clinked together.
“To many more years to come.” Tommy added and Adam leaned over to peck him on the cheek.

They ate their tacos together and both secretly couldn’t believe they were edible. Conversation dribbled over a lot of subjects – marriage, oh wait we can’t, Adam is famous, Tommy is in his band, that is weirder than them already dating, movies, music, friends, tacos, cooking, culinary school, how much they hated school, really anything. When they finished, Adam cleaned up both their plates as a thanks to Tommy for trying to make dinner and decorating the apartment. When he finished, Tommy kissed him long and sweet so Adam would still owe him. Even though he really owed Adam.

“So, sex?” Adam whispered against Tommy’s lips.
“Is that a question?” Tommy answered.
“I dunno.” Adam kissed him again.