Lambliff Big Bang - Among the dust and the microfiche (Part 1)
Title: Among the dust and the microfiche
Pairing: Adam/Tommy
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 15598
Summary: Adam is a university student by day and budding rock star by night, struggling through his last major paper and desperate for help. Tommy is the reluctant library assistant who's gotten really good at his job, even if what he really wants to do is make music.
Notes: I took this idea from a prompt in the plot bunny post at lambliffbigbang and I'm glad I did! This was such a fun story to write, except when it wasn't, and I have to thank janescott and no_detective for getting me out of those moments. Also, thanks to x_serenade for the wonderful banners! :D Finally, the title from this story comes from the song Young Adult Friction by The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, and I highly recommend that you check it out!
“Excuse me, can you help me find this book? I looked on the shelf, but I can't see it.”
Tommy sighed, wiping his hands on the stiff black work pants he wore. He heard this same question a million times a day, and it was always asked by people who couldn't figure out the catalogue system. Tommy was pretty sure they were mostly idiots because even he understood it, and yeah, he worked at a university library, but it took every ounce of his smarts to muddle through the theory and history classes that were part of his music degree.
“Well, if it's not on the shelf -” Tommy stood and turned, his words just stopping when he took in the person standing in front of him. He was tall, dark hair that looked like it used to be carefully styled hanging in his face, a hint of eyeliner leftover from the night before smudged under his grey-blue eyes. He was staring right at Tommy, his confused expression melting into a soft smile. Tommy blinked once, twice, and wiped his hands on his pants again. “If it's not on the shelf, there are only a couple of places it can be. Can I see the number?”
The little slip of paper he handed Tommy was crumpled, and the number was written in neat, swoopy handwriting. When Tommy had started working at the library, the number would've meant nothing, but after almost a year Tommy's feet just started carrying him through the stacks and he stopped right in front of the shelf where the book was supposed to be. He crouched down and ran his finger over the spines of the books, his eyes scanning the numbers quickly.
“Still not there?” The man's voice was appropriately soft, but Tommy could hear the slight lilt of laughter.
He smiled up at him, and shrugged. “Sorry, we're supposed to check. It's definitely not here though, let me go check the computer.” Tommy waved for the man to follow him the short distance to the nearest kiosk, and they were both silent as Tommy tapped away at the keys, diving into the catalogue. He could feel the man reading over his shoulder, and more than once his fingers slipped on the keys, the man's gaze making him sloppy.
“How do you even make sense of any of that stuff?” He pointed at the screen, and Tommy noticed the chipped black polish on his fingernails.
“It just starts to make sense after a while. When I first started working here it was like an alien language...but now, it's not so bad.” Tommy clicked a few more things, and then made a soft noise of discovery. “There, see? The book is in the system, but it's in one of the other libraries on campus. That code there? Means it's in the music library.”
“Oh. Well, that makes sense. I can go over there and get it, thanks for your help.” The man narrowed his eyes at Tommy's name-tag, and then smiled. “Tommy. Thanks, I'd have been wandering for hours without your help. I'm Adam.”
Tommy took Adam's offered hand and shook it, he hoped firmly. “It's no problem. It's my job to keep people from falling into the Oubliette we've got hidden in the periodicals.” Adam's eyes crinkled even as he grinned, and Tommy flushed when he realized he'd just mashed together a library joke with a Labyrinth reference. “Oh God, I've been working here too long. Sorry, I'm not usually such a dork.”
“It's okay, I like dorks.” Adam nudged Tommy with his elbow, friendly and easy. “Besides, Oubliette, like in Labyrinth? I'll have to come back and pick your brain, I bet you've got some ideas that would be good for this paper.”
“What's it about?” Tommy had a vague idea from the book Adam had come in looking for, but a book on rock and roll was pretty broad.
Adam waved a hand around, the rings on his fingers flashing in the lights. “Something about music and gender and sexuality, it's all kind of -” He waved his hands some more, and Tommy just nodded. He saw this all the time, but normally it came with a due date of tomorrow and a smell of panic, and with Adam, there wasn't any of that. Tommy figured that as soon as he wanted to, Adam would know exactly what to say, but until then, it was all just floating out there, waiting for him to pluck it out of the air.
“Sounds cool.” Tommy paused, shifting a little in his squeaky shoes. “Well, if you want to get that book tonight, the music library closes in a half hour.”
“Oh, right.” Adam pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the time before sliding it back into his pocket. “So, Tommy. Thanks for the help, I'll see you around.”
“Yeah, definitely.” Tommy threw a little wave in Adam's direction as he walked away, watching for a few seconds more than was probably appropriate. He wondered if Adam would actually come back, but as he crouched back down to the pile of books he'd been shelving, he let himself hope, just a little. It was the first bit of excitement he'd seen in the library that didn't involved students having sex in the study rooms or someone throwing a fit over fines, and he wanted to hang onto it for as long as he could.
It would have been a lie for Tommy to say that he'd forgotten about Adam, but in the two weeks after his first visit, the memory of him had been pushed to the back of Tommy's mind. He'd stopped expecting him to walk through the door, and he was surprised to feel a large presence looming silently behind, a presence that already felt strangely familiar. He turned and smiled when he saw Adam looking down at him, a stack of books in his hands and an overstuffed backpack hanging off of one shoulder.
"Hey, how's the research going?" Tommy stood, and gestured to the books Adam was holding, topics ranging from psychology to music to fashion.
Adam shrugged and flipped a shock of dark hair out of his eyes. "It's going all right, I found that book you helped me with the other night! The music library is great, I have no idea why I never thought to go there before."
Tommy grinned, pulling up the sleeves of his white shirt. "Nobody ever thinks to go to the smaller libraries, but they have lots of good stuff. Did you need help with those?" He reached out and took a few of the books out of Adam's hands, knowing exactly how quickly a stack of books starts to feel like it weighs more than you do.
"I was actually wondering if we could talk for a bit? Do you have time?" Adam looked around the library, and nodded his head in the direction of the study area by the windows, full of overstuffed chairs and low tables.
"Sure. Do you need more research help?"
"Well, kind of? I think I've done too much research and I'm getting lost in it. I need someone to talk it out with, and I have a feeling you'll understand my thoughts." Adam's smile was wide and bright, and Tommy dropped his head just a little, the full force of that smile a little more than he could handle.
"I can try, but ideas aren't exactly my strengths." Tommy dumped his stack of books onto one of the tables and slid into a chair, fidgeting back and forth until he finally settled on the edge of the chair, his hands resting awkwardly on his knees. "Okay, so...tell me what you've got so far?"
Adam pulled out a weathered notebook, the edges of its cover curling up. When he opened it, Tommy's eyes widened at the writing that covered every inch of the pages inside, going horizontally, vertically, and other directions that probably didn't even have names. Adam flipped through the pages quickly, and the words on them must have made sense to him, because he stopped about halfway through and slid the book across the table. "This is what I've got."
Tommy stared at it for a few long moments and then reached out to pick up the book, running his fingers over Adam's swirly handwriting, his eyes catching words like Bowie, androgyny, Bolan and glam. "Too much research, huh?"
Adam's cheeks flushed, light pink even through the makeup that Tommy could now see dusted over his cheeks. "That's the problem with being given total freedom to write something. I just jumped in with both feet and now..."
"You're drowning in it?" Tommy understood completely; he'd felt exactly that way when he started university, and if he was being honest, he still did most of the time. He was almost done, less than a year left before he could graduate, but every paper he had to write still felt like the first.
"That's pretty much it. You think you can help?" Adam got out of the chair across from Tommy that he'd sat down in and dragged it around the table until they were next to one another.
Tommy shrugged, and looked back down at the notes scrawled all over Adam's notebook. "Maybe? If I'm being honest, I can help people find a book on anything, but actually writing something...I'm not so sure."
"Can we just talk it out? I tried with my roommate but he just doesn't care about school, and I don't even know when I started to care..." Adam's hands were waving again, and Tommy saw just a hint of that panic he was so used to seeing in freshman.
"Sure, yeah. Here, let's get a fresh sheet of paper and I'll write as you talk. Deal?" Tommy ripped a sheet out of Adam's notebook and held up a pen, hoping the smile on his face was calming and reassuring.
Adam grinned back, and Tommy could see the deep breath that he took. "Deal. Where should we start?"
"How about you tell me what this paper is for? What class?"
"Well, it's not really for a class exactly. I'm doing independent study this year, and this is kind of like my thesis? That's probably why I'm freaking out, I didn't go into music to write giant papers." Adam raked a hand though his thick hair, and Tommy thought he was probably imagining the spicy-sweet smell that filled the air around them when Adam's hair was ruffled.
He also made a mental note to never sign up for independent study. "Okay, so the topic is pretty open, right? Tell me what you were thinking about."
Adam just started talking, and Tommy started writing, his pen flying over the paper as Adam threw out words and ideas and phrases. "Well, I was thinking about David Bowie and glam rock, right? And how they played with gender and sexuality in their music? I know it's been talked about but I still think that's really interesting, and if you look at a lot of the female artists from around the same time, they were playing with androgyny too, like Annie Lennox but I haven't seen that talked about as much, so maybe I could take both and kind of talk about them together? Like, rock music and sexuality are completely connected, but maybe there was something special going on in the 70s and 80s that made it different, made it okay to step over onto the other side? Does any of that make sense?" When he finally paused, Adam's eyes were flashing, and the complete passion he had for this topic was clear.
"It makes perfect sense. I think you know exactly what you want to talk about, you just need to get it organized. See?" Tommy handed Adam the paper he'd been writing on, which looked like a mess until you really focused on it. He'd written down all the ideas Adam had thrown out, but he'd connected them with arrows and other phrases, and Adam turned the paper this way and that way, looking at it.
"Wow. And you say you're not good at this stuff? You just made my brain make sense. I don't think it's ever done that before." Adam was still looking down at the paper in wonder, and Tommy was glad for it as he felt a flush creep onto his cheeks.
"It's nothing, really. It's kind of like the books here. You know how everything has a subject, and the books with similar subjects are like, nearby to each other? That's all I did." Tommy put his finger on the paper and followed the arrows he'd drawn, demonstrating how he'd connected everything.
"You catalogued my thoughts." Adam turned to look at Tommy and smiled, grateful. "Thank you so much, I just panicked all of a sudden. I've been putting off starting this for weeks, and I just figured when I was ready..."
"It would just happen? Yeah, we get that a lot here." Tommy's eyes caught the clock behind Adam's head and realized he'd been sitting here for nearly a half hour. "Oh, crap, I've got to get back to work. Are you..okay here?"
"Totally. For now. I'm going to go through my notes and try and do what you just did. Thanks again, Tommy." Adam rested his hand on Tommy's knee and squeezed gently.
"No problem man, good luck with those notes." As Tommy stood and walked away, he could still feel the heat of Adam's hand against his knee, could feel the light pressure of Adam's fingers as he shook his head, trying to clear it. He found himself drifting past the table where Adam was working more times than were strictly necessary that night, watching as Adam's tongue poked out between his lips as he thought, seeing Adam's obvious excitement when the thoughts came together and his pen flew over the paper. Tommy smiled as he watched Adam flip through his notebook and write down ideas, happy to see that he'd helped, but also feeling more than a little weird. If anyone were to see him now, hiding in one of the aisles, books pushed to the side so he could peek through them, he would probably look completely insane. Adam was just working, just writing a paper, something Tommy had seen hundreds of people do since he'd started working in the library. There was something different about Adam, and Tommy was torn between being desperate to find out what it was, and wanting to stay blissfully ignorant.
This time Tommy couldn't even pretend that he hadn't spent the days in between Adam's visits thinking about him. He craned his neck every time he saw a flash of black hair or a leather jacket, and he found himself lingering in the aisles of the library where Adam might be likely to need books. He even started making notes, writing down call numbers and journal titles that Adam might find useful, carrying the little slip of paper around in his pocket, just in case. It had been a week since Adam had been in last, and as Tommy swiped his card in the punch clock, he hoped Adam would come in tonight.
“Hey, Tommy. How's it going?” Tommy turned to see Greg, one of the other library assistants pushing a book truck into the back room, piled high with new books.
“Not bad, I'm swamped with music theory, but it'll be fine.” He wasn't actually sure if it would be fine, but he figured if he said it out loud enough, it would be. Tommy slipped his punch card into his pocket and fastened his name-tag to the front of his shirt, a new deep grey button-down.
“Cool. Oh, some guy was in here last night looking for you. Tall, dark hair?” Greg pushed the truck over to one of the desks and starting sorting through the books.
Tommy's head snapped up, and he was glad Greg didn't see it. “Oh, yeah, his name's Adam. I've been helping him with his research.”
“That's all you been helping him with?” Greg looked up at him, waggling his eyebrows and grinning. “He sure looked awfully upset you weren't here, he didn't even stay to work, just left.”
“Um...yeah, just research.” Tommy's tongue felt dry in his mouth, and his cheeks felt hot. “Did he say if he was coming back?”
Greg shrugged, his grin not disappearing in the least. “He asked when you were going to be in next, but I didn't know your schedule. I guess you'll just have to keep your eyes open, man.”
Tommy sighed, rolling his eyes.” Thank, I'll do that.”
“Remember, this is a library! Whatever you do, do it quietly!” Greg's voice followed him around the corner, and Tommy had to turn back, flipping up his middle finger while a smile twitched around the corners of his lips. Greg annoyed the shit out of him sometimes, but he was really a good guy. Tommy hadn't expected to make friends working at the library, expecting it to be all middle-aged ladies and quiet girls, so Greg's bluntness and humour was usually appreciated.
Tommy was on the reference desk that night, and it was a slow night in the library; the first Saturday after midterms and most students wanted to be as far away from books as possible right now. This gave Tommy nothing but time to watch the front door, his head flicking up every time he heard it open. It also gave him lots of him to think, and thinking was a dangerous pastime. His brain ran down the list of things he was pretty sure were facts. Adam had come in looking for him. When he wasn't there, Adam looked upset and left. Adam asked when Tommy would be here next. As for himself, he looked up every time the door opened. He was carrying a list of books and journal titles in his pocket. Two nights ago he'd had a dream about helping Adam research, except it definitely hadn't ended in research, at least not the academic kind.
Tommy nearly flushed at the memory before he realized that no one around him could actually hear his thoughts, and he sighed. He felt like a teenager, sitting here mooning after some guy he'd seen twice, and he thought he may as well be pulling the petals off a flower, the way he was going over and over the list in his head. He looked up at the computer screen in front of him, the cursor blinking on the thing that he'd completely forgotten he was supposed to be doing, and his eyes dropped to the corner, noticing the time. He almost laughed out loud when he saw he'd been sitting here for two hours, half of his shift spent thinking about Adam, watching for Adam, and thinking about what it meant that he was thinking about Adam. He rubbed his hands over his eyes, and stood. It was totally time for a coffee break.
He sat nursing a lukewarm cup of stale coffee, not really even drinking the burnt, bitter stuff, absentmindedly flipping through one of the magazines that had been left on the table. Tommy didn't really care about the happenings of celebrity life, but it kept his mind occupied, enough that he jumped when Greg stuck his head in around the corner.
“Tommy, you've got company.” His voice was singsong, a wide, crooked smile spread across his face as he made quotation marks in the air. “Your 'research partner' is waiting at the reference desk, I told him you'd be right out.”
Tommy made a point of taking his time, or at least taking enough time to chug down the last swallow of mostly cold coffee, and he walked only a little quicker than normal, brushing past Greg with a muttered 'thanks'. The walk to the reference desk gave Tommy just enough time to add another item to his list of facts: Adam had come back the very next day to see him. Tommy wasn't entirely sure what to do with the facts that he knew, and no matter how he arranged them in his brain he couldn't come any closer to an answer. He stopped trying entirely when he rounded the corner and saw Adam standing at the desk, and when he saw the way that Adam smiled, his whole face lighting up when he saw Tommy, Tommy added that, as well as his reaction to that smile, to the list too.
Adam's questions that night were much like they'd been every time before, and really he only needed Tommy to sit there and listen; he always got there on his own, but Tommy didn't mind being a sounding board. What was different was how Adam reached out to touch Tommy's arm when he talked, holding his eye contact until Tommy had to look away, both of them laughing loud enough to draw irritated stares from the people surrounding them. When Adam was ready to leave, Tommy pulled the little slip of paper from his pocket, telling Adam what each book was about, and where to find them. Adam's eyes went wide and he pulled Tommy into a hug, a short, fierce one that made Tommy think maybe Adam had been caught off guard by it too.
The memory of Adam's arms around him stuck with Tommy a little more than he'd ever admit, and he imagined he could still feel them even as he locked the door to his little apartment behind him. He didn't live alone, but it was only 10 on a Saturday night, and there was no way his roommate would be home while the bars were still open. Tommy sighed as he kicked off the stupid shoes he wore to work, and he was already unbuttoning his shirt as he walked down the hall towards his room. He pulled a t-shirt over his head and stripped to his boxers, thinking briefly of having a shower in the few seconds before he collapsed on the bed, the lumpy mattress feeling pretty welcoming right now.
Tommy shot a glance to the corner, his bass and old acoustic guitar propped up against the wall with faded t-shirts draped over them. He thought about picking one up and playing, about wiping off the thin layer of dust dulling the shiny black surface of the bass, but he didn't. He was tired, in his brain and in his body; he'd been too tired to play for what felt like forever, and he sighed as he slumped back into the pillows, groping for the remote. The apartment was way too quiet, and all Tommy could hear was every voice that had told him 'no', and the smug faces of his family who'd pressured him to go to school, to get a real job. Now, here he was, the end of his degree in sight, but no career prospects that didn't involve subject headings and call numbers.
He flicked through the channels aimlessly, glad at least for the noise the TV made, even if there wasn't anything good on it. He stopped on some generic sitcom and tossed the remote to the side, weighing the pros and cons of getting up and putting in a movie. The cons won out, and he flopped back against the pillows, staring at the TV without really watching what was happening on it. He let his mind wander, trying to send it away from the dark places, and guide it towards anything that would stop him thinking. Gradually, he let his hand slip underneath his t-shirt, his fingernails scraping over the soft skin of his belly. He moved it higher, letting his fingertips trace circles around his nipples until they were hard and visible through the worn fabric of his shirt, his breath coming faster when he pinched them lightly.
The laugh track on the TV became nothing more than a faraway buzz in his ear when he dropped his other hand to his dick, squeezing it gently through his boxers, feeling it harden in his hand. His eyes fell shut and he traced the outline of his dick with sure fingers, teasing at the head when he felt the very beginning of a wet spot forming. He sighed and squeezed harder before shoving his boxers down to his knees and wrapping his hand around his dick, starting a slow, easy rhythm. Tommy wasn't trying to think about anything except the rough drag of his hand over his dick, and he was more than surprised when his brain started supplying him with images. It started with Adam's hand, so much bigger than Tommy's, his black-polished fingers wrapping easily around Tommy's dick.
Tommy's breath caught in his throat and he forced his eyes open, his hand stilling. When his head cleared, he started stroking again, his hips fucking up into his fist with his faster rhythm. The next image hit him just as hard as the first one; Adam's hand on his shoulders, pushing him back against the stacks, the spines of the books digging into Tommy's hips as Adam's mouth came down against him. Tommy imagined he could taste Adam, imagined he would taste sweet and deep and like more. He was panting now, his thumb swirling over the head of his dick and dragging the pre-come down, using it to ease the slide of his hand.
He tried to force the image away again, his teeth digging into his lower lip, but he was too far gone. He thought of Adam's hands pushing into his pants and shoving them down, of Adam moving in as close as he could get, and then Tommy imagined Adam pushing inside of him, his thick cock stretching Tommy wide open. Tommy would have to be quiet; maybe Adam would even have to hold his hand over Tommy's mouth to help him. As Tommy's strokes sped up, he pressed his other hand over his mouth, his tongue darting out to lap over the salty skin, and he wondered if Adam's would taste different. He shouted his orgasm into his hand, biting down into the meat of his palm to muffle the sound even though there was no one around to hear. His come splashed hot against his belly, and when he started to come down, an equally hot flush spread across his face. Tommy reached for a wad of Kleenex to clean himself up, and he was pretty damn grateful that no one else was ever going to see the ever-growing list in his head.
For the first time since he'd met Adam, Tommy went to work the next few days hoping that Adam wouldn't come in. He was sure that the second he saw Adam, if he managed not to blurt out how he'd jerked off thinking about being fucked up against the library shelves, that it would be written all over his face anyways. Tommy didn't have a ton of relationship experience, but he was almost 100% sure that was creepy. When Adam did walk through the doors, Tommy had a brief moment where he considered hiding, darting into the room with the almost completely unused microfiche readers, but he was pinned in place by Adam's wide grin and eager wave, his other arm loaded down with the books that wouldn't fit in his already overstuffed backpack.
“Hey! Those books you told me about, they were amazing!” Adam dumped his stuff onto the table that may as well have their names on it at this point, and tugged out a chair, gesturing for Tommy to sit down. “I got so much good stuff out of them, my outline is really starting to fill out! Want to see?”
Tommy hadn't even had a chance to blurt out anything stupid yet, and he was grateful when Adam pushed his well-used notebook into his hands, flipping to a section marked with a tattered hot pink sticky note. Tommy read quickly, turning the pages back and forth and reading everything Adam had written down. He smiled when he saw traces of the way he'd shown Adam to organize his thoughts, but he was actually kind of proud when he realized that Adam had started his own system. “This looks awesome! Are you sure you still need me?”
“Oh, I definitely do.” Adam grinned and then reached into his pocket, pulling out the list Tommy had given him. “I couldn't figure out how to get to these things, these journals? Are they online?”
“Yeah, you get to them through the library catalogue. Want me to show you?” Tommy showed Adam to a nearby bank of computers, letting Adam have the chair. He guided Adam through the first few steps, but pretty soon he was reminded of why he hated teaching anyone how to use online resources. Things that were now pretty much intuitive for Tommy made no sense to most people, and he really sucked at explaining.
“No, click there. No, to the left, the blue button. You want the advanced search, not - here, let me.” Tommy leaned over Adam and reached for the mouse, their fingers barely brushed before Adam's were gone. Tommy held his breath for a quick second, fighting the urge to move his hand to grab Adam's, and his hand was shaking just a bit when he clicked the mouse button. “There, see? Your search terms go here, and then you can read the articles right on the computer.”
Adam reached back for the mouse, and Tommy was sure that this time, the way their hands touched wasn't accidental. “Thanks, again, you're a lifesaver. Someday, I'm going to teach you something.” He turned around to face Tommy, his eyes bright with something that looked like mischief.
Tommy shrugged, straightening up and shoving his hands in his pockets. “I bet there are lots of things you could teach me.” They both let that comment hang in the air, and Adam clicked back out of the database and started back towards the table where he'd left his stuff.
“Hey, do you have a lunch break coming up or anything? I'm starving, and the food court has the good soup on Wednesdays.” Adam grinned at Tommy, the easy smile that Tommy was already thinking of as familiar.
“Yeah, I do. Let me go tell someone I'm going, and I'll be right back?” Tommy waited until Adam nodded, and he found Greg hunched over a cart full of books near the reference desk. “Greg, you mind if I go for lunch?”
“Sure, man, but this is a lot earlier than you usually go. Something up?” Greg straightened, a look of understanding appearing on his face when he saw Adam packing up his bag in the background. “Oooh, is this a research date?”
“It's not a date,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes. “We're just going to the food court, and that would be a lame date, even for me, dude. I'll see you in an hour.”
“Hey, take all the time you need. I got it under control here.” Greg waggled his eyebrows, and Tommy jabbed his elbow into Greg's side hard enough that he yelped. Adam looked up at them, a slightly confused smile on his face as he walked over.
“Everything okay? You ready to go, Tommy?” Adam adjusted his backpack on his shoulders, and inclined his head towards the door.
“Oh, he's more than ready.” Greg was grinning even as he rubbed at the sore spot on his side, and he turned back to his cart of books before Tommy could elbow him again.
The cafeteria was practically around the corner from the library, just down one flight of stairs with a flickering light, and the loud chatter of the people all around them was almost startling after the silence of the library. Tommy filled his tray with a slightly soggy tuna sandwich and a green banana, watching as Adam filled the biggest foam bowl they had with soup. They carried their trays to the cashier, and before Tommy even realized what was happening, Adam was pushing a $20 across the counter, waving his hand to indicate he was paying for both trays. Tommy tried to protest as they searched for a table, but Adam just grinned.
“The least I can do after how much you've helped me is buy you a sad tuna sandwich.” He set his tray down and pulled the lid off of his soup before he'd even slid into his chair. He closed his eyes and breathed in, and the look that floated across the face was nearly enough to make Tommy blush, until he remembered it was about soup.
“Maybe I should've let you buy me soup instead, that looks way better.” Tommy held up his sandwich, grimacing when the bread drooped in his hand.
“Here, try some. I got lots.” Adam scooped up a spoonful of the spicy-smelling soup and held his hand underneath it. He raised his eyebrows and offered it up to Tommy. “Seriously, before the spoonful gets cold.”
Tommy rolled his eyes, but he was smiling when he leaned forward and closed his lips around the spoon. He almost groaned, because the soup really was that good. He'd worked right next to this cafeteria for years, and it had never occurred to him to get soup, and he was definitely regretting that now. “Oh man, I definitely should've let you buy me soup.”
Adam reached over and grabbed half of Tommy's sandwich and pushed the bowl of soup between them. “How about we share?” He took a bite of the sandwich and managed to only screw his face up a little before washing it down with a mouthful of juice. “Okay, neither of us is eating that sandwich.”
Tommy laughed and took the sandwich from Adam's hand, and picked up the spoon. He scooped up some soup and held it out towards Adam, his hand shaking just a little when Adam leaned in. “Deal.”
It was nice to finally get to talk, without the pressure of having to use their library voices or at least try to keep the conversation focused on work. Adam definitely did most of the talking, but Tommy didn't mind; Adam's life sounded way more interesting. He was a singer, in a band and in theatre whenever he could get it, and his eyes lit up whenever he talked about being on stage. Tommy felt an almost instant pang of jealousy at the thought of Adam on stage, getting to do what he loved. What Tommy loved, but couldn't do. The jealousy was immediately followed by guilt, because Adam looked so happy talking about performing, like he was on fire inside, and Tommy knew he was just being petty.
Tommy stopped feeling sorry for himself, and let himself wonder what Adam sounded like, what he looked like on stage, and images floated into his head totally unbidden. He imagined Adam all done up in leather, slinking across the stage, his usual eyeliner enhanced with glitter. Adam's voice would be clear and high except when it wasn't, and Tommy imagined he could feel the deep almost-growl that Adam would slip into. He got so lost in his own head, he nearly missed that Adam had stopped talking, and from the way he was looking at Tommy, it as clear he was waiting for a response.
“Um, I'm sorry, what?” Tommy waved his hands around, gesturing at himself. “I kind of got lost there.”
Adam's head was tilted to the side, quizzical, but he just nodded. “That happens to me all the time, my head can be a scary place. I asked if maybe you'd want to come see me perform sometime? My band has a gig in a few weeks at a club, I think you'd dig it.”
Tommy only hesitated for a second before agreeing, because really, it had been way too long since he'd even seen live music, and this was Adam. He hadn't known him for long, but he was already pretty sure that Adam was the kind of person Tommy could never say no to, even if he wanted to. That point was driven home when Adam held out another spoonful of soup and quirked his eyebrow, and Tommy didn't even think before he leaned in, closing his lips around the spoon. He almost had to look away when he caught Adam's eyes, because there was something there, something Tommy couldn't put a name to, but it made his stomach flip as he swallowed. Whatever that something was, it erased any lingering doubt Tommy may have had about going to Adam's show, and he found himself already counting the days.
The weeks between that lunch and Adam's show somehow managed to both crawl and zoom by at the same time. Adam came into the library almost every day, and he almost never brought work anymore. Tommy suspected that he'd had words with Greg, because it always seemed that it was just about time for Tommy's lunch break when Adam would appear behind him, a familiar shadow looming over him. The cafeteria was beginning to become kind of their regular place, and Tommy learned that the soup wasn't just good on Wednesday and he even managed to pay for Adam's lunch once or twice. Those were the moments when time seemed to fly. Whenever Tommy was around Adam he felt like his whole life was in fast forward, and it was always over way too soon, leaving Tommy floundering and wanting more.
When the night for the show finally came, Tommy definitely didn't spend nearly an hour in front of the mirror smearing on thick black eyeliner and making sure his hair was the perfect kind of messed up that took ages. He was dressed in a fitted black v-neck, worn in skinny jeans and boots that had seen better days. He squinted a little in the mirror, barely recognizing himself. He'd had to dig every single item of clothing he was wearing out of the back of his closet, from a pile that may as well be labelled “Failed Rockstar Gear”. The only thing that hadn't come from that pile was the new leather jacket he slipped his arms into, dark grey and soft and way more money than any library assistant could afford. Tommy tried not to think of the Visa bill as he looked as his reflection, pretending he was a stranger. When he was satisfied that he didn't look like a total idiot he slid his keys into his pocket, and put on just a little more lipgloss.
“Dude, where are you going?” Tommy's roommate, Dave was sitting at the island in the kitchen, a spoonful of cereal poised halfway to his mouth.
“Going to a club, a...um, friend's band is doing a show.” Tommy shifted a little, suddenly feeling like he was lying to his parents, which was ridiculous.
Dave looked at him for a long minute, and swallowed his cereal with a knowing, obnoxious smirk. “Well, have fun. It's been a long time since I've seen you all prettied up like that, must be a good friend.”
Tommy tried to smirk, but he was pretty sure all he managed was a completely earnest smile. “Yeah, he is.”
“You want me to leave the door open, or...?” Dave waggled his eyebrows, and Tommy suddenly realized he totally needed to introduce Greg and Dave to one another; they'd definitely get along.
“No, don't worry about it. I've got keys.” Tommy jangled the keys in his pocket and headed out the door, shutting it against the sound of Dave's wolf whistles. He wanted to shoot Dave the finger and tell him to shut the fuck up, but if Tommy was honest, the fact that he was leaving the apartment kind of was worth celebrating. Which in itself was totally depressing, but Tommy tried not to think about it as he pulled his shitty car into the parking lot of the club Adam's band was playing at. He looked up at the marquee, recognizing it from when he'd played here with one or another of his failed bands, and took a deep breath.
The air inside the club was thick and heavy with the smell of smoke and booze and other things, the music thumping off the walls. All of Tommy's senses were being assaulted, but instead of tensing up he breathed it in, something inside of him relaxing and softening. He'd missed this, just being out and being a part of things, music pumping through his body and people all around him. He stood at the door for a few seconds longer than was probably normal, just absorbing it, finally stepping into the club when a girl in a very tiny dress pushed past him, already stumbling a little.
He headed for the bar, scanning the club as he did, and he wasn't surprised to discover that it was easy to spot Adam. He was tall, of course, but he was also surrounded by a small crowd, and from Tommy's vantage point Adam looked like he was holding court. His hands were waving, his eyes were sparkling, and everyone around him looked totally enraptured. Tommy knew the feeling. He knew it so well that he almost missed the bartender plunking down his beer, and he couldn't even hear the conversation. He took a quick swallow, the cold bitterness of the beer a welcome change from the heated air of the club, and headed over to Adam.
“Tommy!” Adam was in front of him before Tommy even felt like he'd taken a step, wrapping his arms tight around Tommy and nearly lifting him. “I wasn't sure you'd come!”
“I promised, didn't I?” Tommy smiled, and took another swig. “Besides, I've gotta see if all those ideas you've got come out up there.”
Adam laughed, the usual clear sound of it tinged with just a little huskiness, probably due to the empty martini glass in his hand. “Baby, those ideas have got nothing on me. Come on, let me introduce you.”
Tommy smiled and shook hands and listened to every single bad librarian joke he had ever heard with good humour. He knew that leather and eyeliner and tattoos weren't exactly part of the librarian stereotype, but he did occasionally wish people would get new material. Adam's friends were pretty much what Tommy had expected them to be, artistic and loud, and more than a little crazy in all the best ways. Tommy couldn't really keep up with the conversation, especially as the noise level in the club started to rise and the drinks kept flowing, but that didn't matter. He was actually having a pretty awesome time just listening and nodding along, and every once in awhile Adam's hand slipped under the table to squeeze his thigh. Whenever he did it, Tommy turned to catch his eye, smiling to tell him that everything was fine, or better than fine, really.
When it was time for Adam and his band to take the stage, Tommy and the rest of the crew moved up to lean against the railing that separated the dance floor from the rest of the club. The lights went down, and a group of girls on the dance floor rushed for the stage shouting Adam's name, and Tommy's heart skipped a little when he realized they were fans. Before he even had a second to really think about that, the lights were up and music was blasting at him from the stage. Adam's guitar player, Monte, Tommy remembered, started to play and Tommy's jaw hung open just a little. Monte was way too good to be playing in a little club like this, and Tommy tried not to think that people like Monte were the reason Tommy's own instrument was gathering dust in his apartment. Then Adam stepped on stage, and Tommy stopped thinking altogether.
Stepped was the wrong word; something like strutted or slunk or fuck, even sashayed would be closer, but Tommy was sure there wasn't actually a word to describe what he was seeing and hearing. Adam's voice was nothing like what Tommy imagined, because there's no way Tommy could have imagined something like this. His voice was high and sweet when it needed to be and dropped effortlessly to growl through a line, punctuating just the right words to make those girls in the front row scream. He moved like he was liquid, hips rolling to the beat of the music like it was controlling him. When Adam's voice rose as high as Tommy thought it could go and then went higher, Tommy was sure the music was controlling him.
A few songs into the set, an ache started to spread through Tommy's chest. Adam was up on stage doing what he loved, what he was born to do, and Tommy looked down at himself, feeling like a fraud. He was a librarian dressed up in a rock star’s clothes, not someone who was just working a day job until the right opportunity hit, like he was always telling himself. He downed the rest of his beer as he watched Adam lean into the crowd to grab hands, a smile on his face even has he sang, and he gestured the waitress over to order a double Jack on the rocks. The liquor burned as it slid down his throat, but it didn't do anything to stop the ache, so he ordered another, and then another until the warmth of drunkenness spread through him, settling alongside the ache.
Adam was taking his bows on stage, a grin wider than Tommy had ever seen spread across his face as he waved to the crowd, blowing kisses to those girls in the front. Tommy was hit by a sucker-punch of guilt in the gut, and he felt like a giant dick, the contents of his half empty glass of Jack splashing over the edge as he slammed it down on the railing. Adam was fucking amazing on stage, born to be a rock star, and all Tommy was doing was feeling sorry for himself because he didn't have the talent or the drive or the swivelling hips or whatever the fuck it was that he was missing. He wasn't going to let his own failure affect Adam, not tonight and not ever. Tommy took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, swaying a little bit before he grabbed onto the railing. He swallowed, and tried to imagine swallowing his jealousy or something, because he had a tendency to burst out with shit he didn't want to say when he was drunk.
Tommy turned and shoved through the crowd towards the bathroom, glad to find the small, grimy room empty. He leaned over one of the sinks, turning on the cold water and sticking his hands underneath it. He wanted to splash it over his face, but he didn't want to fuck up his makeup so he settled for running his wrists under the flow, letting the water cool down the blood that was still rushing hot through his veins. With the water still running, he looked up at the mirror, staring at his own face. His eye makeup was still perfect, just the right kind of suggestively-smudged, his long fringe hanging over one eye. He sneered at himself, feeling even more like a fraud now that he could look at himself. The makeup, the hair, it felt like a mask, even though just a few years ago he'd felt the same way as he buttoned up his white shirt to go to work at the library.
He sighed and dropped his eyes, turning off the faucet a little harder than totally necessary. When he looked back up, he tried to see himself through new eyes, and he realized that yeah, he may be a total fraud, but he was a fucking pretty fraud. He pulled his lip gloss out of his pocket and slicked on a fresh coat, smirking at himself in the mirror one last time. He was done feeling sorry for himself tonight, and for once, he was going to go after what he wanted.
Tommy fought his way back to the booth, and hung near the fringes of the crowd waiting for Adam. When Adam came out from backstage, a smile spread easy and wide across Tommy's face, because it was impossible not to smile when Adam was that close to him, looking like a sweet-as-fuck rock star and smelling like sweat and stage and good. He was surprised when Adam headed right for him, but he just opened his arms and let Adam pull him in, almost falling into Adam's chest.
“So, what did you think?” Adam pulled back just far enough to hold Tommy at arms length, his own expression looking the kind of manic that Tommy remembered from performing.
“You were amazing, obviously.” Tommy leaned in and wrapped his arms around Adam's waist, rubbing his hands over the small of Adam's back before pulling back. “Seriously, fucking incredible. Those people in your paper, they got nothing.”
Adam threw his head back and laughed, but Tommy could see the little flush on his cheeks and the quirk to his smile that said he was really happy that Tommy had liked it. “You want to come dance with me? Come dance with me!”
Tommy didn't really have a choice when Adam's hand wrapped around his and pulled, dragging him easily through the crowd that seemed to part like water in front of them. The music thumped in Tommy's chest and he let Adam do most of the work, holding him close and making their hips sway together to the music. Tommy's own hands slid up under Adam's shirt and sought bare skin, a sigh bubbling out of him when he found it, scrapping his fingernails over Adam's hips and lower back.
“Mmmm, did you have a few drinks baby?” Adam's breath was hot against Tommy's ear, and Tommy wanted to purr and lean up into it.
“A few too many.” Tommy gasped when Adam's hands slid underneath his jacket, thumbs hooking through his belt loops and fingers sneaking up to find skin.
“Too many to tell me to stop?” One of Adam's hands slipped out from underneath Tommy's jacket and slid up his chest to his neck, tipping his head back until Tommy was looking into Adam's eyes.
“No, not too many. But I'd never tell you to stop.” Adam made a little noise in the back of his throat that was almost a whimper, and then he leaned in, his lips soft against Tommy's. Tommy groaned and leaned up into it, sliding his hands up Adam's back and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Adam tasted salty and sweet all at once, and if Tommy wasn't already drunk he was pretty sure that taste could get him there. He pushed his tongue deeper into Adam's mouth, sweeping it everywhere he could reach, pulling back to nip on Adam's lip and then pushing back in until Adam finally pulled back, breathless.
He rested his forehead against Tommy's, but Tommy could still see him smiling and the way his lower lip was just a little swollen. “Why did no one ever tell me that librarians are amazing kissers?”
“There's a lot of things you don't know about librarians.” Tommy tilted his head so he could press a kiss just under Adam's jaw, leaving his lips there for a few seconds to feel his pulse beat.
“Oh?” Adam pulled back and looked at Tommy with a glint in his eye, his hands both back at Tommy's waist, teasing at the skin just above his waistband. “Tell me something I don't know about librarians.”
Tommy made a show of looking around before raising up on his toes and pressing his lips right against Adam's ear. “They like to think about fucking up against the shelves.”
“Oh, really? What exactly do they think about?” Adam's voice dropped low enough that Tommy could barely hear him above the music, and he had to lean in even closer.
As Tommy opened his mouth to speak, he could hear part of his brain screaming at him to shut up, to stop talking right now before he said something really fucking stupid, but he ignored it. “There's this certain guy that comes in, that's who they think about. And he's tall and fucking beautiful, and he could pick me up and get me right up against the shelf, hold me up easy.” Tommy dimly realized he wasn't talking theoretically anymore, but the way Adam's breath sped up and the Jack coursing through his veins made him keep going. “And we'd have to be quiet, right? So he'd have to cover my mouth because I can't keep quiet, and we don't want to get caught.”
Adam nearly groaned, and Tommy could feel his cock pressing against his thigh through their jeans. “Fuck, Tommy, is that all?”
“No, sometimes I think about it when I'm jacking off, and I pretend it's his hand instead of mine. I bet he's so much fucking better at it than me.” Tommy lifted his eyes to Adam's face and raised his eyebrows, a look that would've been a challenge if he hadn't almost wobbled out of Adam's arms when he tried to pull him down into a kiss.
“God, I would really like for you to keep going, but...” Adam raked a hand through his hair and used the other to steady Tommy who was still swaying on his feet.
“But what?” Tommy asked the question even though he knew the answer, all of the sudden the Jack hitting him like a freight train, making his limbs feel heavy and floaty all at the same time. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. Come on baby, I think it's time to go.” Adam wrapped an arm around Tommy's shoulder and guided him toward the door, waving a quick goodbye to his friends who hooted and hollered as they headed outside. Tommy was beginning to forget what it felt like to leave a room without being followed by whistles. Adam buckled Tommy into the passenger seat of his car, and kissed him on the forehead, and Tommy thought he heard something about water and bed and toothbrushes, and then he was out.
When Tommy opened his eyes again, the sun was splashing brightly on the floor and his mouth was dry and sticky. He groaned as he shifted in bed, and then realized that the bed was way too big, and way too comfortable. He forced his eyes open again and looked down at himself, noticing that he was wearing one sock and a t-shirt that hung way too far down his thighs to be his own. He tried to sit up, but it felt like his brain was rattling around too loose in his skull, so he just fell back into the unfamiliar bed and tried to piece together what had happened last night.
It came to him in bits and pieces, Adam's show, all the whiskey, the dancing. Tommy felt his face go hot when he remembered what he'd said to Adam, already working out how to apologize for being a drunk asshole when Adam appeared in the doorway. He was sleep rumpled, wearing nothing but a pair of worn black sleep pants, and holding a glass of water and a pill bottle. He smiled when he saw Tommy was awake, rattling the pill bottle as he walked over.
“Thought you could probably use this.” Adam sat down on the other side of the bed, and Tommy took the water gratefully, downing the glass and two aspirin in one shot.
“Thanks.” Tommy cringed at the rough sound of his own voice, and coughed into his hand to try and clear it. “For the water, and for letting me crash. I was...um...”
“You were drunk, no big deal.” Adam shrugged and laid down on his side, propping his head up on one hand. “Besides, you're a pretty good dancer. And a damn good story teller.”
Tommy groaned and hid his face in his hands, fighting the urge to burrow under the covers and hide.
“I can't believe I said that. I guess it's too late to pretend I made that all up, right?”
“Yeah, it kind of is. But I hope you don't want to take it back, I kind of liked the sound of it.” Adam's hair was messy, sticking up and falling into his eyes all at once, he had pillow creases on his cheeks and eye liner smudged all around his eyes and he looked ridiculous, but then his voice dropped low and filthy and his fingers reached out to just brush against Tommy's bare thigh. Tommy let himself get pulled across the bed and into Adam's arms, Adam's head dropping to kiss across Tommy's collarbone where it stuck out over the top of the t-shirt Tommy now realized was Adam's. Adam's hands were warm and big as they slid up underneath Tommy's shirt, and Tommy sighed at the touch, arching into it just a little.
“Well, if you liked it...I guess I won't take it back.” Tommy felt different with Adam's hands on him, bolder, and some crazy combination of all mixed up and more settled than he'd felt in ages, but mostly he just felt good. They spent the day exploring each other, learning everything from the spots that made each other moan or sigh or laugh, to what they liked on their pizza. Tommy was pretty sure it was the best day he'd ever had, and the lingering kiss Adam gave him as he dropped Tommy off at his car made him think he wasn't the only one who felt that way.
The sun was already starting to set when Tommy slid into his own car, still wearing Adam's shirt since his own smelled like smoke and whiskey. Tommy opened his apartment door to a barrage of questions that definitely crossed boundaries, but for the first time in a long time, he was in too good of a mood to even muster up a 'fuck you' for Dave. As he shut the door to his bedroom, his eyes caught his neglected instruments in the corner, still hidden under a pile of t-shirts. Without thinking, he grabbed the shirts and threw them in the closet, bending down to rub a hand over the front of the bass and then the guitar, wiping away the dust. It was a little thing, but when Tommy stood up and looked at his bass, really looked at it for the first time in months, it felt pretty huge.
Part Two
Pairing: Adam/Tommy
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 15598
Summary: Adam is a university student by day and budding rock star by night, struggling through his last major paper and desperate for help. Tommy is the reluctant library assistant who's gotten really good at his job, even if what he really wants to do is make music.
Notes: I took this idea from a prompt in the plot bunny post at lambliffbigbang and I'm glad I did! This was such a fun story to write, except when it wasn't, and I have to thank janescott and no_detective for getting me out of those moments. Also, thanks to x_serenade for the wonderful banners! :D Finally, the title from this story comes from the song Young Adult Friction by The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, and I highly recommend that you check it out!
“Excuse me, can you help me find this book? I looked on the shelf, but I can't see it.”
Tommy sighed, wiping his hands on the stiff black work pants he wore. He heard this same question a million times a day, and it was always asked by people who couldn't figure out the catalogue system. Tommy was pretty sure they were mostly idiots because even he understood it, and yeah, he worked at a university library, but it took every ounce of his smarts to muddle through the theory and history classes that were part of his music degree.
“Well, if it's not on the shelf -” Tommy stood and turned, his words just stopping when he took in the person standing in front of him. He was tall, dark hair that looked like it used to be carefully styled hanging in his face, a hint of eyeliner leftover from the night before smudged under his grey-blue eyes. He was staring right at Tommy, his confused expression melting into a soft smile. Tommy blinked once, twice, and wiped his hands on his pants again. “If it's not on the shelf, there are only a couple of places it can be. Can I see the number?”
The little slip of paper he handed Tommy was crumpled, and the number was written in neat, swoopy handwriting. When Tommy had started working at the library, the number would've meant nothing, but after almost a year Tommy's feet just started carrying him through the stacks and he stopped right in front of the shelf where the book was supposed to be. He crouched down and ran his finger over the spines of the books, his eyes scanning the numbers quickly.
“Still not there?” The man's voice was appropriately soft, but Tommy could hear the slight lilt of laughter.
He smiled up at him, and shrugged. “Sorry, we're supposed to check. It's definitely not here though, let me go check the computer.” Tommy waved for the man to follow him the short distance to the nearest kiosk, and they were both silent as Tommy tapped away at the keys, diving into the catalogue. He could feel the man reading over his shoulder, and more than once his fingers slipped on the keys, the man's gaze making him sloppy.
“How do you even make sense of any of that stuff?” He pointed at the screen, and Tommy noticed the chipped black polish on his fingernails.
“It just starts to make sense after a while. When I first started working here it was like an alien language...but now, it's not so bad.” Tommy clicked a few more things, and then made a soft noise of discovery. “There, see? The book is in the system, but it's in one of the other libraries on campus. That code there? Means it's in the music library.”
“Oh. Well, that makes sense. I can go over there and get it, thanks for your help.” The man narrowed his eyes at Tommy's name-tag, and then smiled. “Tommy. Thanks, I'd have been wandering for hours without your help. I'm Adam.”
Tommy took Adam's offered hand and shook it, he hoped firmly. “It's no problem. It's my job to keep people from falling into the Oubliette we've got hidden in the periodicals.” Adam's eyes crinkled even as he grinned, and Tommy flushed when he realized he'd just mashed together a library joke with a Labyrinth reference. “Oh God, I've been working here too long. Sorry, I'm not usually such a dork.”
“It's okay, I like dorks.” Adam nudged Tommy with his elbow, friendly and easy. “Besides, Oubliette, like in Labyrinth? I'll have to come back and pick your brain, I bet you've got some ideas that would be good for this paper.”
“What's it about?” Tommy had a vague idea from the book Adam had come in looking for, but a book on rock and roll was pretty broad.
Adam waved a hand around, the rings on his fingers flashing in the lights. “Something about music and gender and sexuality, it's all kind of -” He waved his hands some more, and Tommy just nodded. He saw this all the time, but normally it came with a due date of tomorrow and a smell of panic, and with Adam, there wasn't any of that. Tommy figured that as soon as he wanted to, Adam would know exactly what to say, but until then, it was all just floating out there, waiting for him to pluck it out of the air.
“Sounds cool.” Tommy paused, shifting a little in his squeaky shoes. “Well, if you want to get that book tonight, the music library closes in a half hour.”
“Oh, right.” Adam pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the time before sliding it back into his pocket. “So, Tommy. Thanks for the help, I'll see you around.”
“Yeah, definitely.” Tommy threw a little wave in Adam's direction as he walked away, watching for a few seconds more than was probably appropriate. He wondered if Adam would actually come back, but as he crouched back down to the pile of books he'd been shelving, he let himself hope, just a little. It was the first bit of excitement he'd seen in the library that didn't involved students having sex in the study rooms or someone throwing a fit over fines, and he wanted to hang onto it for as long as he could.
It would have been a lie for Tommy to say that he'd forgotten about Adam, but in the two weeks after his first visit, the memory of him had been pushed to the back of Tommy's mind. He'd stopped expecting him to walk through the door, and he was surprised to feel a large presence looming silently behind, a presence that already felt strangely familiar. He turned and smiled when he saw Adam looking down at him, a stack of books in his hands and an overstuffed backpack hanging off of one shoulder.
"Hey, how's the research going?" Tommy stood, and gestured to the books Adam was holding, topics ranging from psychology to music to fashion.
Adam shrugged and flipped a shock of dark hair out of his eyes. "It's going all right, I found that book you helped me with the other night! The music library is great, I have no idea why I never thought to go there before."
Tommy grinned, pulling up the sleeves of his white shirt. "Nobody ever thinks to go to the smaller libraries, but they have lots of good stuff. Did you need help with those?" He reached out and took a few of the books out of Adam's hands, knowing exactly how quickly a stack of books starts to feel like it weighs more than you do.
"I was actually wondering if we could talk for a bit? Do you have time?" Adam looked around the library, and nodded his head in the direction of the study area by the windows, full of overstuffed chairs and low tables.
"Sure. Do you need more research help?"
"Well, kind of? I think I've done too much research and I'm getting lost in it. I need someone to talk it out with, and I have a feeling you'll understand my thoughts." Adam's smile was wide and bright, and Tommy dropped his head just a little, the full force of that smile a little more than he could handle.
"I can try, but ideas aren't exactly my strengths." Tommy dumped his stack of books onto one of the tables and slid into a chair, fidgeting back and forth until he finally settled on the edge of the chair, his hands resting awkwardly on his knees. "Okay, so...tell me what you've got so far?"
Adam pulled out a weathered notebook, the edges of its cover curling up. When he opened it, Tommy's eyes widened at the writing that covered every inch of the pages inside, going horizontally, vertically, and other directions that probably didn't even have names. Adam flipped through the pages quickly, and the words on them must have made sense to him, because he stopped about halfway through and slid the book across the table. "This is what I've got."
Tommy stared at it for a few long moments and then reached out to pick up the book, running his fingers over Adam's swirly handwriting, his eyes catching words like Bowie, androgyny, Bolan and glam. "Too much research, huh?"
Adam's cheeks flushed, light pink even through the makeup that Tommy could now see dusted over his cheeks. "That's the problem with being given total freedom to write something. I just jumped in with both feet and now..."
"You're drowning in it?" Tommy understood completely; he'd felt exactly that way when he started university, and if he was being honest, he still did most of the time. He was almost done, less than a year left before he could graduate, but every paper he had to write still felt like the first.
"That's pretty much it. You think you can help?" Adam got out of the chair across from Tommy that he'd sat down in and dragged it around the table until they were next to one another.
Tommy shrugged, and looked back down at the notes scrawled all over Adam's notebook. "Maybe? If I'm being honest, I can help people find a book on anything, but actually writing something...I'm not so sure."
"Can we just talk it out? I tried with my roommate but he just doesn't care about school, and I don't even know when I started to care..." Adam's hands were waving again, and Tommy saw just a hint of that panic he was so used to seeing in freshman.
"Sure, yeah. Here, let's get a fresh sheet of paper and I'll write as you talk. Deal?" Tommy ripped a sheet out of Adam's notebook and held up a pen, hoping the smile on his face was calming and reassuring.
Adam grinned back, and Tommy could see the deep breath that he took. "Deal. Where should we start?"
"How about you tell me what this paper is for? What class?"
"Well, it's not really for a class exactly. I'm doing independent study this year, and this is kind of like my thesis? That's probably why I'm freaking out, I didn't go into music to write giant papers." Adam raked a hand though his thick hair, and Tommy thought he was probably imagining the spicy-sweet smell that filled the air around them when Adam's hair was ruffled.
He also made a mental note to never sign up for independent study. "Okay, so the topic is pretty open, right? Tell me what you were thinking about."
Adam just started talking, and Tommy started writing, his pen flying over the paper as Adam threw out words and ideas and phrases. "Well, I was thinking about David Bowie and glam rock, right? And how they played with gender and sexuality in their music? I know it's been talked about but I still think that's really interesting, and if you look at a lot of the female artists from around the same time, they were playing with androgyny too, like Annie Lennox but I haven't seen that talked about as much, so maybe I could take both and kind of talk about them together? Like, rock music and sexuality are completely connected, but maybe there was something special going on in the 70s and 80s that made it different, made it okay to step over onto the other side? Does any of that make sense?" When he finally paused, Adam's eyes were flashing, and the complete passion he had for this topic was clear.
"It makes perfect sense. I think you know exactly what you want to talk about, you just need to get it organized. See?" Tommy handed Adam the paper he'd been writing on, which looked like a mess until you really focused on it. He'd written down all the ideas Adam had thrown out, but he'd connected them with arrows and other phrases, and Adam turned the paper this way and that way, looking at it.
"Wow. And you say you're not good at this stuff? You just made my brain make sense. I don't think it's ever done that before." Adam was still looking down at the paper in wonder, and Tommy was glad for it as he felt a flush creep onto his cheeks.
"It's nothing, really. It's kind of like the books here. You know how everything has a subject, and the books with similar subjects are like, nearby to each other? That's all I did." Tommy put his finger on the paper and followed the arrows he'd drawn, demonstrating how he'd connected everything.
"You catalogued my thoughts." Adam turned to look at Tommy and smiled, grateful. "Thank you so much, I just panicked all of a sudden. I've been putting off starting this for weeks, and I just figured when I was ready..."
"It would just happen? Yeah, we get that a lot here." Tommy's eyes caught the clock behind Adam's head and realized he'd been sitting here for nearly a half hour. "Oh, crap, I've got to get back to work. Are you..okay here?"
"Totally. For now. I'm going to go through my notes and try and do what you just did. Thanks again, Tommy." Adam rested his hand on Tommy's knee and squeezed gently.
"No problem man, good luck with those notes." As Tommy stood and walked away, he could still feel the heat of Adam's hand against his knee, could feel the light pressure of Adam's fingers as he shook his head, trying to clear it. He found himself drifting past the table where Adam was working more times than were strictly necessary that night, watching as Adam's tongue poked out between his lips as he thought, seeing Adam's obvious excitement when the thoughts came together and his pen flew over the paper. Tommy smiled as he watched Adam flip through his notebook and write down ideas, happy to see that he'd helped, but also feeling more than a little weird. If anyone were to see him now, hiding in one of the aisles, books pushed to the side so he could peek through them, he would probably look completely insane. Adam was just working, just writing a paper, something Tommy had seen hundreds of people do since he'd started working in the library. There was something different about Adam, and Tommy was torn between being desperate to find out what it was, and wanting to stay blissfully ignorant.
This time Tommy couldn't even pretend that he hadn't spent the days in between Adam's visits thinking about him. He craned his neck every time he saw a flash of black hair or a leather jacket, and he found himself lingering in the aisles of the library where Adam might be likely to need books. He even started making notes, writing down call numbers and journal titles that Adam might find useful, carrying the little slip of paper around in his pocket, just in case. It had been a week since Adam had been in last, and as Tommy swiped his card in the punch clock, he hoped Adam would come in tonight.
“Hey, Tommy. How's it going?” Tommy turned to see Greg, one of the other library assistants pushing a book truck into the back room, piled high with new books.
“Not bad, I'm swamped with music theory, but it'll be fine.” He wasn't actually sure if it would be fine, but he figured if he said it out loud enough, it would be. Tommy slipped his punch card into his pocket and fastened his name-tag to the front of his shirt, a new deep grey button-down.
“Cool. Oh, some guy was in here last night looking for you. Tall, dark hair?” Greg pushed the truck over to one of the desks and starting sorting through the books.
Tommy's head snapped up, and he was glad Greg didn't see it. “Oh, yeah, his name's Adam. I've been helping him with his research.”
“That's all you been helping him with?” Greg looked up at him, waggling his eyebrows and grinning. “He sure looked awfully upset you weren't here, he didn't even stay to work, just left.”
“Um...yeah, just research.” Tommy's tongue felt dry in his mouth, and his cheeks felt hot. “Did he say if he was coming back?”
Greg shrugged, his grin not disappearing in the least. “He asked when you were going to be in next, but I didn't know your schedule. I guess you'll just have to keep your eyes open, man.”
Tommy sighed, rolling his eyes.” Thank, I'll do that.”
“Remember, this is a library! Whatever you do, do it quietly!” Greg's voice followed him around the corner, and Tommy had to turn back, flipping up his middle finger while a smile twitched around the corners of his lips. Greg annoyed the shit out of him sometimes, but he was really a good guy. Tommy hadn't expected to make friends working at the library, expecting it to be all middle-aged ladies and quiet girls, so Greg's bluntness and humour was usually appreciated.
Tommy was on the reference desk that night, and it was a slow night in the library; the first Saturday after midterms and most students wanted to be as far away from books as possible right now. This gave Tommy nothing but time to watch the front door, his head flicking up every time he heard it open. It also gave him lots of him to think, and thinking was a dangerous pastime. His brain ran down the list of things he was pretty sure were facts. Adam had come in looking for him. When he wasn't there, Adam looked upset and left. Adam asked when Tommy would be here next. As for himself, he looked up every time the door opened. He was carrying a list of books and journal titles in his pocket. Two nights ago he'd had a dream about helping Adam research, except it definitely hadn't ended in research, at least not the academic kind.
Tommy nearly flushed at the memory before he realized that no one around him could actually hear his thoughts, and he sighed. He felt like a teenager, sitting here mooning after some guy he'd seen twice, and he thought he may as well be pulling the petals off a flower, the way he was going over and over the list in his head. He looked up at the computer screen in front of him, the cursor blinking on the thing that he'd completely forgotten he was supposed to be doing, and his eyes dropped to the corner, noticing the time. He almost laughed out loud when he saw he'd been sitting here for two hours, half of his shift spent thinking about Adam, watching for Adam, and thinking about what it meant that he was thinking about Adam. He rubbed his hands over his eyes, and stood. It was totally time for a coffee break.
He sat nursing a lukewarm cup of stale coffee, not really even drinking the burnt, bitter stuff, absentmindedly flipping through one of the magazines that had been left on the table. Tommy didn't really care about the happenings of celebrity life, but it kept his mind occupied, enough that he jumped when Greg stuck his head in around the corner.
“Tommy, you've got company.” His voice was singsong, a wide, crooked smile spread across his face as he made quotation marks in the air. “Your 'research partner' is waiting at the reference desk, I told him you'd be right out.”
Tommy made a point of taking his time, or at least taking enough time to chug down the last swallow of mostly cold coffee, and he walked only a little quicker than normal, brushing past Greg with a muttered 'thanks'. The walk to the reference desk gave Tommy just enough time to add another item to his list of facts: Adam had come back the very next day to see him. Tommy wasn't entirely sure what to do with the facts that he knew, and no matter how he arranged them in his brain he couldn't come any closer to an answer. He stopped trying entirely when he rounded the corner and saw Adam standing at the desk, and when he saw the way that Adam smiled, his whole face lighting up when he saw Tommy, Tommy added that, as well as his reaction to that smile, to the list too.
Adam's questions that night were much like they'd been every time before, and really he only needed Tommy to sit there and listen; he always got there on his own, but Tommy didn't mind being a sounding board. What was different was how Adam reached out to touch Tommy's arm when he talked, holding his eye contact until Tommy had to look away, both of them laughing loud enough to draw irritated stares from the people surrounding them. When Adam was ready to leave, Tommy pulled the little slip of paper from his pocket, telling Adam what each book was about, and where to find them. Adam's eyes went wide and he pulled Tommy into a hug, a short, fierce one that made Tommy think maybe Adam had been caught off guard by it too.
The memory of Adam's arms around him stuck with Tommy a little more than he'd ever admit, and he imagined he could still feel them even as he locked the door to his little apartment behind him. He didn't live alone, but it was only 10 on a Saturday night, and there was no way his roommate would be home while the bars were still open. Tommy sighed as he kicked off the stupid shoes he wore to work, and he was already unbuttoning his shirt as he walked down the hall towards his room. He pulled a t-shirt over his head and stripped to his boxers, thinking briefly of having a shower in the few seconds before he collapsed on the bed, the lumpy mattress feeling pretty welcoming right now.
Tommy shot a glance to the corner, his bass and old acoustic guitar propped up against the wall with faded t-shirts draped over them. He thought about picking one up and playing, about wiping off the thin layer of dust dulling the shiny black surface of the bass, but he didn't. He was tired, in his brain and in his body; he'd been too tired to play for what felt like forever, and he sighed as he slumped back into the pillows, groping for the remote. The apartment was way too quiet, and all Tommy could hear was every voice that had told him 'no', and the smug faces of his family who'd pressured him to go to school, to get a real job. Now, here he was, the end of his degree in sight, but no career prospects that didn't involve subject headings and call numbers.
He flicked through the channels aimlessly, glad at least for the noise the TV made, even if there wasn't anything good on it. He stopped on some generic sitcom and tossed the remote to the side, weighing the pros and cons of getting up and putting in a movie. The cons won out, and he flopped back against the pillows, staring at the TV without really watching what was happening on it. He let his mind wander, trying to send it away from the dark places, and guide it towards anything that would stop him thinking. Gradually, he let his hand slip underneath his t-shirt, his fingernails scraping over the soft skin of his belly. He moved it higher, letting his fingertips trace circles around his nipples until they were hard and visible through the worn fabric of his shirt, his breath coming faster when he pinched them lightly.
The laugh track on the TV became nothing more than a faraway buzz in his ear when he dropped his other hand to his dick, squeezing it gently through his boxers, feeling it harden in his hand. His eyes fell shut and he traced the outline of his dick with sure fingers, teasing at the head when he felt the very beginning of a wet spot forming. He sighed and squeezed harder before shoving his boxers down to his knees and wrapping his hand around his dick, starting a slow, easy rhythm. Tommy wasn't trying to think about anything except the rough drag of his hand over his dick, and he was more than surprised when his brain started supplying him with images. It started with Adam's hand, so much bigger than Tommy's, his black-polished fingers wrapping easily around Tommy's dick.
Tommy's breath caught in his throat and he forced his eyes open, his hand stilling. When his head cleared, he started stroking again, his hips fucking up into his fist with his faster rhythm. The next image hit him just as hard as the first one; Adam's hand on his shoulders, pushing him back against the stacks, the spines of the books digging into Tommy's hips as Adam's mouth came down against him. Tommy imagined he could taste Adam, imagined he would taste sweet and deep and like more. He was panting now, his thumb swirling over the head of his dick and dragging the pre-come down, using it to ease the slide of his hand.
He tried to force the image away again, his teeth digging into his lower lip, but he was too far gone. He thought of Adam's hands pushing into his pants and shoving them down, of Adam moving in as close as he could get, and then Tommy imagined Adam pushing inside of him, his thick cock stretching Tommy wide open. Tommy would have to be quiet; maybe Adam would even have to hold his hand over Tommy's mouth to help him. As Tommy's strokes sped up, he pressed his other hand over his mouth, his tongue darting out to lap over the salty skin, and he wondered if Adam's would taste different. He shouted his orgasm into his hand, biting down into the meat of his palm to muffle the sound even though there was no one around to hear. His come splashed hot against his belly, and when he started to come down, an equally hot flush spread across his face. Tommy reached for a wad of Kleenex to clean himself up, and he was pretty damn grateful that no one else was ever going to see the ever-growing list in his head.
For the first time since he'd met Adam, Tommy went to work the next few days hoping that Adam wouldn't come in. He was sure that the second he saw Adam, if he managed not to blurt out how he'd jerked off thinking about being fucked up against the library shelves, that it would be written all over his face anyways. Tommy didn't have a ton of relationship experience, but he was almost 100% sure that was creepy. When Adam did walk through the doors, Tommy had a brief moment where he considered hiding, darting into the room with the almost completely unused microfiche readers, but he was pinned in place by Adam's wide grin and eager wave, his other arm loaded down with the books that wouldn't fit in his already overstuffed backpack.
“Hey! Those books you told me about, they were amazing!” Adam dumped his stuff onto the table that may as well have their names on it at this point, and tugged out a chair, gesturing for Tommy to sit down. “I got so much good stuff out of them, my outline is really starting to fill out! Want to see?”
Tommy hadn't even had a chance to blurt out anything stupid yet, and he was grateful when Adam pushed his well-used notebook into his hands, flipping to a section marked with a tattered hot pink sticky note. Tommy read quickly, turning the pages back and forth and reading everything Adam had written down. He smiled when he saw traces of the way he'd shown Adam to organize his thoughts, but he was actually kind of proud when he realized that Adam had started his own system. “This looks awesome! Are you sure you still need me?”
“Oh, I definitely do.” Adam grinned and then reached into his pocket, pulling out the list Tommy had given him. “I couldn't figure out how to get to these things, these journals? Are they online?”
“Yeah, you get to them through the library catalogue. Want me to show you?” Tommy showed Adam to a nearby bank of computers, letting Adam have the chair. He guided Adam through the first few steps, but pretty soon he was reminded of why he hated teaching anyone how to use online resources. Things that were now pretty much intuitive for Tommy made no sense to most people, and he really sucked at explaining.
“No, click there. No, to the left, the blue button. You want the advanced search, not - here, let me.” Tommy leaned over Adam and reached for the mouse, their fingers barely brushed before Adam's were gone. Tommy held his breath for a quick second, fighting the urge to move his hand to grab Adam's, and his hand was shaking just a bit when he clicked the mouse button. “There, see? Your search terms go here, and then you can read the articles right on the computer.”
Adam reached back for the mouse, and Tommy was sure that this time, the way their hands touched wasn't accidental. “Thanks, again, you're a lifesaver. Someday, I'm going to teach you something.” He turned around to face Tommy, his eyes bright with something that looked like mischief.
Tommy shrugged, straightening up and shoving his hands in his pockets. “I bet there are lots of things you could teach me.” They both let that comment hang in the air, and Adam clicked back out of the database and started back towards the table where he'd left his stuff.
“Hey, do you have a lunch break coming up or anything? I'm starving, and the food court has the good soup on Wednesdays.” Adam grinned at Tommy, the easy smile that Tommy was already thinking of as familiar.
“Yeah, I do. Let me go tell someone I'm going, and I'll be right back?” Tommy waited until Adam nodded, and he found Greg hunched over a cart full of books near the reference desk. “Greg, you mind if I go for lunch?”
“Sure, man, but this is a lot earlier than you usually go. Something up?” Greg straightened, a look of understanding appearing on his face when he saw Adam packing up his bag in the background. “Oooh, is this a research date?”
“It's not a date,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes. “We're just going to the food court, and that would be a lame date, even for me, dude. I'll see you in an hour.”
“Hey, take all the time you need. I got it under control here.” Greg waggled his eyebrows, and Tommy jabbed his elbow into Greg's side hard enough that he yelped. Adam looked up at them, a slightly confused smile on his face as he walked over.
“Everything okay? You ready to go, Tommy?” Adam adjusted his backpack on his shoulders, and inclined his head towards the door.
“Oh, he's more than ready.” Greg was grinning even as he rubbed at the sore spot on his side, and he turned back to his cart of books before Tommy could elbow him again.
The cafeteria was practically around the corner from the library, just down one flight of stairs with a flickering light, and the loud chatter of the people all around them was almost startling after the silence of the library. Tommy filled his tray with a slightly soggy tuna sandwich and a green banana, watching as Adam filled the biggest foam bowl they had with soup. They carried their trays to the cashier, and before Tommy even realized what was happening, Adam was pushing a $20 across the counter, waving his hand to indicate he was paying for both trays. Tommy tried to protest as they searched for a table, but Adam just grinned.
“The least I can do after how much you've helped me is buy you a sad tuna sandwich.” He set his tray down and pulled the lid off of his soup before he'd even slid into his chair. He closed his eyes and breathed in, and the look that floated across the face was nearly enough to make Tommy blush, until he remembered it was about soup.
“Maybe I should've let you buy me soup instead, that looks way better.” Tommy held up his sandwich, grimacing when the bread drooped in his hand.
“Here, try some. I got lots.” Adam scooped up a spoonful of the spicy-smelling soup and held his hand underneath it. He raised his eyebrows and offered it up to Tommy. “Seriously, before the spoonful gets cold.”
Tommy rolled his eyes, but he was smiling when he leaned forward and closed his lips around the spoon. He almost groaned, because the soup really was that good. He'd worked right next to this cafeteria for years, and it had never occurred to him to get soup, and he was definitely regretting that now. “Oh man, I definitely should've let you buy me soup.”
Adam reached over and grabbed half of Tommy's sandwich and pushed the bowl of soup between them. “How about we share?” He took a bite of the sandwich and managed to only screw his face up a little before washing it down with a mouthful of juice. “Okay, neither of us is eating that sandwich.”
Tommy laughed and took the sandwich from Adam's hand, and picked up the spoon. He scooped up some soup and held it out towards Adam, his hand shaking just a little when Adam leaned in. “Deal.”
It was nice to finally get to talk, without the pressure of having to use their library voices or at least try to keep the conversation focused on work. Adam definitely did most of the talking, but Tommy didn't mind; Adam's life sounded way more interesting. He was a singer, in a band and in theatre whenever he could get it, and his eyes lit up whenever he talked about being on stage. Tommy felt an almost instant pang of jealousy at the thought of Adam on stage, getting to do what he loved. What Tommy loved, but couldn't do. The jealousy was immediately followed by guilt, because Adam looked so happy talking about performing, like he was on fire inside, and Tommy knew he was just being petty.
Tommy stopped feeling sorry for himself, and let himself wonder what Adam sounded like, what he looked like on stage, and images floated into his head totally unbidden. He imagined Adam all done up in leather, slinking across the stage, his usual eyeliner enhanced with glitter. Adam's voice would be clear and high except when it wasn't, and Tommy imagined he could feel the deep almost-growl that Adam would slip into. He got so lost in his own head, he nearly missed that Adam had stopped talking, and from the way he was looking at Tommy, it as clear he was waiting for a response.
“Um, I'm sorry, what?” Tommy waved his hands around, gesturing at himself. “I kind of got lost there.”
Adam's head was tilted to the side, quizzical, but he just nodded. “That happens to me all the time, my head can be a scary place. I asked if maybe you'd want to come see me perform sometime? My band has a gig in a few weeks at a club, I think you'd dig it.”
Tommy only hesitated for a second before agreeing, because really, it had been way too long since he'd even seen live music, and this was Adam. He hadn't known him for long, but he was already pretty sure that Adam was the kind of person Tommy could never say no to, even if he wanted to. That point was driven home when Adam held out another spoonful of soup and quirked his eyebrow, and Tommy didn't even think before he leaned in, closing his lips around the spoon. He almost had to look away when he caught Adam's eyes, because there was something there, something Tommy couldn't put a name to, but it made his stomach flip as he swallowed. Whatever that something was, it erased any lingering doubt Tommy may have had about going to Adam's show, and he found himself already counting the days.
The weeks between that lunch and Adam's show somehow managed to both crawl and zoom by at the same time. Adam came into the library almost every day, and he almost never brought work anymore. Tommy suspected that he'd had words with Greg, because it always seemed that it was just about time for Tommy's lunch break when Adam would appear behind him, a familiar shadow looming over him. The cafeteria was beginning to become kind of their regular place, and Tommy learned that the soup wasn't just good on Wednesday and he even managed to pay for Adam's lunch once or twice. Those were the moments when time seemed to fly. Whenever Tommy was around Adam he felt like his whole life was in fast forward, and it was always over way too soon, leaving Tommy floundering and wanting more.
When the night for the show finally came, Tommy definitely didn't spend nearly an hour in front of the mirror smearing on thick black eyeliner and making sure his hair was the perfect kind of messed up that took ages. He was dressed in a fitted black v-neck, worn in skinny jeans and boots that had seen better days. He squinted a little in the mirror, barely recognizing himself. He'd had to dig every single item of clothing he was wearing out of the back of his closet, from a pile that may as well be labelled “Failed Rockstar Gear”. The only thing that hadn't come from that pile was the new leather jacket he slipped his arms into, dark grey and soft and way more money than any library assistant could afford. Tommy tried not to think of the Visa bill as he looked as his reflection, pretending he was a stranger. When he was satisfied that he didn't look like a total idiot he slid his keys into his pocket, and put on just a little more lipgloss.
“Dude, where are you going?” Tommy's roommate, Dave was sitting at the island in the kitchen, a spoonful of cereal poised halfway to his mouth.
“Going to a club, a...um, friend's band is doing a show.” Tommy shifted a little, suddenly feeling like he was lying to his parents, which was ridiculous.
Dave looked at him for a long minute, and swallowed his cereal with a knowing, obnoxious smirk. “Well, have fun. It's been a long time since I've seen you all prettied up like that, must be a good friend.”
Tommy tried to smirk, but he was pretty sure all he managed was a completely earnest smile. “Yeah, he is.”
“You want me to leave the door open, or...?” Dave waggled his eyebrows, and Tommy suddenly realized he totally needed to introduce Greg and Dave to one another; they'd definitely get along.
“No, don't worry about it. I've got keys.” Tommy jangled the keys in his pocket and headed out the door, shutting it against the sound of Dave's wolf whistles. He wanted to shoot Dave the finger and tell him to shut the fuck up, but if Tommy was honest, the fact that he was leaving the apartment kind of was worth celebrating. Which in itself was totally depressing, but Tommy tried not to think about it as he pulled his shitty car into the parking lot of the club Adam's band was playing at. He looked up at the marquee, recognizing it from when he'd played here with one or another of his failed bands, and took a deep breath.
The air inside the club was thick and heavy with the smell of smoke and booze and other things, the music thumping off the walls. All of Tommy's senses were being assaulted, but instead of tensing up he breathed it in, something inside of him relaxing and softening. He'd missed this, just being out and being a part of things, music pumping through his body and people all around him. He stood at the door for a few seconds longer than was probably normal, just absorbing it, finally stepping into the club when a girl in a very tiny dress pushed past him, already stumbling a little.
He headed for the bar, scanning the club as he did, and he wasn't surprised to discover that it was easy to spot Adam. He was tall, of course, but he was also surrounded by a small crowd, and from Tommy's vantage point Adam looked like he was holding court. His hands were waving, his eyes were sparkling, and everyone around him looked totally enraptured. Tommy knew the feeling. He knew it so well that he almost missed the bartender plunking down his beer, and he couldn't even hear the conversation. He took a quick swallow, the cold bitterness of the beer a welcome change from the heated air of the club, and headed over to Adam.
“Tommy!” Adam was in front of him before Tommy even felt like he'd taken a step, wrapping his arms tight around Tommy and nearly lifting him. “I wasn't sure you'd come!”
“I promised, didn't I?” Tommy smiled, and took another swig. “Besides, I've gotta see if all those ideas you've got come out up there.”
Adam laughed, the usual clear sound of it tinged with just a little huskiness, probably due to the empty martini glass in his hand. “Baby, those ideas have got nothing on me. Come on, let me introduce you.”
Tommy smiled and shook hands and listened to every single bad librarian joke he had ever heard with good humour. He knew that leather and eyeliner and tattoos weren't exactly part of the librarian stereotype, but he did occasionally wish people would get new material. Adam's friends were pretty much what Tommy had expected them to be, artistic and loud, and more than a little crazy in all the best ways. Tommy couldn't really keep up with the conversation, especially as the noise level in the club started to rise and the drinks kept flowing, but that didn't matter. He was actually having a pretty awesome time just listening and nodding along, and every once in awhile Adam's hand slipped under the table to squeeze his thigh. Whenever he did it, Tommy turned to catch his eye, smiling to tell him that everything was fine, or better than fine, really.
When it was time for Adam and his band to take the stage, Tommy and the rest of the crew moved up to lean against the railing that separated the dance floor from the rest of the club. The lights went down, and a group of girls on the dance floor rushed for the stage shouting Adam's name, and Tommy's heart skipped a little when he realized they were fans. Before he even had a second to really think about that, the lights were up and music was blasting at him from the stage. Adam's guitar player, Monte, Tommy remembered, started to play and Tommy's jaw hung open just a little. Monte was way too good to be playing in a little club like this, and Tommy tried not to think that people like Monte were the reason Tommy's own instrument was gathering dust in his apartment. Then Adam stepped on stage, and Tommy stopped thinking altogether.
Stepped was the wrong word; something like strutted or slunk or fuck, even sashayed would be closer, but Tommy was sure there wasn't actually a word to describe what he was seeing and hearing. Adam's voice was nothing like what Tommy imagined, because there's no way Tommy could have imagined something like this. His voice was high and sweet when it needed to be and dropped effortlessly to growl through a line, punctuating just the right words to make those girls in the front row scream. He moved like he was liquid, hips rolling to the beat of the music like it was controlling him. When Adam's voice rose as high as Tommy thought it could go and then went higher, Tommy was sure the music was controlling him.
A few songs into the set, an ache started to spread through Tommy's chest. Adam was up on stage doing what he loved, what he was born to do, and Tommy looked down at himself, feeling like a fraud. He was a librarian dressed up in a rock star’s clothes, not someone who was just working a day job until the right opportunity hit, like he was always telling himself. He downed the rest of his beer as he watched Adam lean into the crowd to grab hands, a smile on his face even has he sang, and he gestured the waitress over to order a double Jack on the rocks. The liquor burned as it slid down his throat, but it didn't do anything to stop the ache, so he ordered another, and then another until the warmth of drunkenness spread through him, settling alongside the ache.
Adam was taking his bows on stage, a grin wider than Tommy had ever seen spread across his face as he waved to the crowd, blowing kisses to those girls in the front. Tommy was hit by a sucker-punch of guilt in the gut, and he felt like a giant dick, the contents of his half empty glass of Jack splashing over the edge as he slammed it down on the railing. Adam was fucking amazing on stage, born to be a rock star, and all Tommy was doing was feeling sorry for himself because he didn't have the talent or the drive or the swivelling hips or whatever the fuck it was that he was missing. He wasn't going to let his own failure affect Adam, not tonight and not ever. Tommy took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, swaying a little bit before he grabbed onto the railing. He swallowed, and tried to imagine swallowing his jealousy or something, because he had a tendency to burst out with shit he didn't want to say when he was drunk.
Tommy turned and shoved through the crowd towards the bathroom, glad to find the small, grimy room empty. He leaned over one of the sinks, turning on the cold water and sticking his hands underneath it. He wanted to splash it over his face, but he didn't want to fuck up his makeup so he settled for running his wrists under the flow, letting the water cool down the blood that was still rushing hot through his veins. With the water still running, he looked up at the mirror, staring at his own face. His eye makeup was still perfect, just the right kind of suggestively-smudged, his long fringe hanging over one eye. He sneered at himself, feeling even more like a fraud now that he could look at himself. The makeup, the hair, it felt like a mask, even though just a few years ago he'd felt the same way as he buttoned up his white shirt to go to work at the library.
He sighed and dropped his eyes, turning off the faucet a little harder than totally necessary. When he looked back up, he tried to see himself through new eyes, and he realized that yeah, he may be a total fraud, but he was a fucking pretty fraud. He pulled his lip gloss out of his pocket and slicked on a fresh coat, smirking at himself in the mirror one last time. He was done feeling sorry for himself tonight, and for once, he was going to go after what he wanted.
Tommy fought his way back to the booth, and hung near the fringes of the crowd waiting for Adam. When Adam came out from backstage, a smile spread easy and wide across Tommy's face, because it was impossible not to smile when Adam was that close to him, looking like a sweet-as-fuck rock star and smelling like sweat and stage and good. He was surprised when Adam headed right for him, but he just opened his arms and let Adam pull him in, almost falling into Adam's chest.
“So, what did you think?” Adam pulled back just far enough to hold Tommy at arms length, his own expression looking the kind of manic that Tommy remembered from performing.
“You were amazing, obviously.” Tommy leaned in and wrapped his arms around Adam's waist, rubbing his hands over the small of Adam's back before pulling back. “Seriously, fucking incredible. Those people in your paper, they got nothing.”
Adam threw his head back and laughed, but Tommy could see the little flush on his cheeks and the quirk to his smile that said he was really happy that Tommy had liked it. “You want to come dance with me? Come dance with me!”
Tommy didn't really have a choice when Adam's hand wrapped around his and pulled, dragging him easily through the crowd that seemed to part like water in front of them. The music thumped in Tommy's chest and he let Adam do most of the work, holding him close and making their hips sway together to the music. Tommy's own hands slid up under Adam's shirt and sought bare skin, a sigh bubbling out of him when he found it, scrapping his fingernails over Adam's hips and lower back.
“Mmmm, did you have a few drinks baby?” Adam's breath was hot against Tommy's ear, and Tommy wanted to purr and lean up into it.
“A few too many.” Tommy gasped when Adam's hands slid underneath his jacket, thumbs hooking through his belt loops and fingers sneaking up to find skin.
“Too many to tell me to stop?” One of Adam's hands slipped out from underneath Tommy's jacket and slid up his chest to his neck, tipping his head back until Tommy was looking into Adam's eyes.
“No, not too many. But I'd never tell you to stop.” Adam made a little noise in the back of his throat that was almost a whimper, and then he leaned in, his lips soft against Tommy's. Tommy groaned and leaned up into it, sliding his hands up Adam's back and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Adam tasted salty and sweet all at once, and if Tommy wasn't already drunk he was pretty sure that taste could get him there. He pushed his tongue deeper into Adam's mouth, sweeping it everywhere he could reach, pulling back to nip on Adam's lip and then pushing back in until Adam finally pulled back, breathless.
He rested his forehead against Tommy's, but Tommy could still see him smiling and the way his lower lip was just a little swollen. “Why did no one ever tell me that librarians are amazing kissers?”
“There's a lot of things you don't know about librarians.” Tommy tilted his head so he could press a kiss just under Adam's jaw, leaving his lips there for a few seconds to feel his pulse beat.
“Oh?” Adam pulled back and looked at Tommy with a glint in his eye, his hands both back at Tommy's waist, teasing at the skin just above his waistband. “Tell me something I don't know about librarians.”
Tommy made a show of looking around before raising up on his toes and pressing his lips right against Adam's ear. “They like to think about fucking up against the shelves.”
“Oh, really? What exactly do they think about?” Adam's voice dropped low enough that Tommy could barely hear him above the music, and he had to lean in even closer.
As Tommy opened his mouth to speak, he could hear part of his brain screaming at him to shut up, to stop talking right now before he said something really fucking stupid, but he ignored it. “There's this certain guy that comes in, that's who they think about. And he's tall and fucking beautiful, and he could pick me up and get me right up against the shelf, hold me up easy.” Tommy dimly realized he wasn't talking theoretically anymore, but the way Adam's breath sped up and the Jack coursing through his veins made him keep going. “And we'd have to be quiet, right? So he'd have to cover my mouth because I can't keep quiet, and we don't want to get caught.”
Adam nearly groaned, and Tommy could feel his cock pressing against his thigh through their jeans. “Fuck, Tommy, is that all?”
“No, sometimes I think about it when I'm jacking off, and I pretend it's his hand instead of mine. I bet he's so much fucking better at it than me.” Tommy lifted his eyes to Adam's face and raised his eyebrows, a look that would've been a challenge if he hadn't almost wobbled out of Adam's arms when he tried to pull him down into a kiss.
“God, I would really like for you to keep going, but...” Adam raked a hand through his hair and used the other to steady Tommy who was still swaying on his feet.
“But what?” Tommy asked the question even though he knew the answer, all of the sudden the Jack hitting him like a freight train, making his limbs feel heavy and floaty all at the same time. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. Come on baby, I think it's time to go.” Adam wrapped an arm around Tommy's shoulder and guided him toward the door, waving a quick goodbye to his friends who hooted and hollered as they headed outside. Tommy was beginning to forget what it felt like to leave a room without being followed by whistles. Adam buckled Tommy into the passenger seat of his car, and kissed him on the forehead, and Tommy thought he heard something about water and bed and toothbrushes, and then he was out.
When Tommy opened his eyes again, the sun was splashing brightly on the floor and his mouth was dry and sticky. He groaned as he shifted in bed, and then realized that the bed was way too big, and way too comfortable. He forced his eyes open again and looked down at himself, noticing that he was wearing one sock and a t-shirt that hung way too far down his thighs to be his own. He tried to sit up, but it felt like his brain was rattling around too loose in his skull, so he just fell back into the unfamiliar bed and tried to piece together what had happened last night.
It came to him in bits and pieces, Adam's show, all the whiskey, the dancing. Tommy felt his face go hot when he remembered what he'd said to Adam, already working out how to apologize for being a drunk asshole when Adam appeared in the doorway. He was sleep rumpled, wearing nothing but a pair of worn black sleep pants, and holding a glass of water and a pill bottle. He smiled when he saw Tommy was awake, rattling the pill bottle as he walked over.
“Thought you could probably use this.” Adam sat down on the other side of the bed, and Tommy took the water gratefully, downing the glass and two aspirin in one shot.
“Thanks.” Tommy cringed at the rough sound of his own voice, and coughed into his hand to try and clear it. “For the water, and for letting me crash. I was...um...”
“You were drunk, no big deal.” Adam shrugged and laid down on his side, propping his head up on one hand. “Besides, you're a pretty good dancer. And a damn good story teller.”
Tommy groaned and hid his face in his hands, fighting the urge to burrow under the covers and hide.
“I can't believe I said that. I guess it's too late to pretend I made that all up, right?”
“Yeah, it kind of is. But I hope you don't want to take it back, I kind of liked the sound of it.” Adam's hair was messy, sticking up and falling into his eyes all at once, he had pillow creases on his cheeks and eye liner smudged all around his eyes and he looked ridiculous, but then his voice dropped low and filthy and his fingers reached out to just brush against Tommy's bare thigh. Tommy let himself get pulled across the bed and into Adam's arms, Adam's head dropping to kiss across Tommy's collarbone where it stuck out over the top of the t-shirt Tommy now realized was Adam's. Adam's hands were warm and big as they slid up underneath Tommy's shirt, and Tommy sighed at the touch, arching into it just a little.
“Well, if you liked it...I guess I won't take it back.” Tommy felt different with Adam's hands on him, bolder, and some crazy combination of all mixed up and more settled than he'd felt in ages, but mostly he just felt good. They spent the day exploring each other, learning everything from the spots that made each other moan or sigh or laugh, to what they liked on their pizza. Tommy was pretty sure it was the best day he'd ever had, and the lingering kiss Adam gave him as he dropped Tommy off at his car made him think he wasn't the only one who felt that way.
The sun was already starting to set when Tommy slid into his own car, still wearing Adam's shirt since his own smelled like smoke and whiskey. Tommy opened his apartment door to a barrage of questions that definitely crossed boundaries, but for the first time in a long time, he was in too good of a mood to even muster up a 'fuck you' for Dave. As he shut the door to his bedroom, his eyes caught his neglected instruments in the corner, still hidden under a pile of t-shirts. Without thinking, he grabbed the shirts and threw them in the closet, bending down to rub a hand over the front of the bass and then the guitar, wiping away the dust. It was a little thing, but when Tommy stood up and looked at his bass, really looked at it for the first time in months, it felt pretty huge.
Part Two