Beer Break (Gen, PG-13)
Title: Beer Break
Rating: PG-13
Category: Gen American Idol RPF/Supernatural crossover
Word Count: 1800
Characters: Adam Lambert and Dean & Sam Winchester
Spoilers: Vague for S4 Supernatural
Warnings: None
Summary: So yeah, they're talking about angels and the end of the world, but if a fan can appreciate Zeppelin, they can't be all bad--right?
Author’s Notes: Takes place a little while after Supernatural 4.22 and the American Idol finale.
Disclaimer: The following characters and situations are used without permission of the creators, owners, and further affiliates of the television show, Supernatural, to whom they rightly belong. As far as American Idol goes, everything here is fiction except for the names, which are used without permission. I claim only what is mine, and I make no money off what is theirs.
- - - - -
He's never been quite so happy to just go to the bar and kick back as he is tonight. After back-to-back interviews that have left him exhausted, he finally has a night free to go and enjoy himself before something else pops up in his schedule.
Adam's grateful for the interviews and the attention, the fans that scream for autographs and the reporters that can't quite figure out how to ask The Question. Oh yeah, he's so grateful for all of it--what guy wouldn't be?--because this is his dream coming true at last. All the same, though, it’s nice to just get away from the chaos and have a drink with some old friends. In a few weeks, he's going to be swept away for the big cross-country tour, and as much as he loves Kris and Danny, Allison and Matt, and all the others, there's nothing like being with the friends who knew him from before.
But, at the moment, those said friends are off somewhere else. Adam's pretty sure they're out on the floor, dancing or something, and sure, he likes to dance and have a good time, but shit, he's just so tired right now. Sitting at the bar and having a drink is one thing. Getting up and dancing? Well, he hasn't had that much sleep.
The bar's not extremely busy, seeing how it's a Tuesday night, so he can't help but notice the two men that walk in. Then again, he supposes, even if the bar were packed, they'd probably stand out. The two guys are all leather jackets and faded blue jeans, muddy boots and plaid button-down shirts. Definitely not something usually seen around these parts. Adam takes a drink from his glass and watches as they work their way across the room over to the bar.
The shorter of the two guys leans on the bar and manages to catch the bartender's attention. "Two beers," he says, pulling out his wallet.
"Anything else?" the bartender asks.
"That'll do it for now." The short one, the one with spiked hair and a little golden amulet resting on his chest, pulls out an assortment of bills and hands them to the bartender.
Once the bartender moves away, the guys uncap their beers and lean back against the bar, observing the scene. Adam's sitting a few seats away, watching them. Could be tourists, he thinks, given the way they stand out. Then again, maybe they just got off a shoot somewhere, but they don't look like any actors he recognizes. Still, they seem about as exhausted and worn as he feels, so yeah, maybe they're in the business after all.
"We really should keep moving," the tall one says with a frown. "I don't know if it's a good idea to be stopping here."
"Look, Sammy," the other replies, swallowing, "if we can't take a half an hour out of our goddamn lives for a beer, then we might as well just call it quits right now."
"Castiel said we were supposed to be looking--"
"I know what Cas said. But, hey, he's got that whole 'super angel' thing going for him. We? Are human. And humans need beer breaks."
The guy who Adam now knows is Sam frowns again. It makes him look downright bitchy and constipated all at the same time, which really, is too bad because when he's not grousing, he's a good-looking guy. Not quite Adam's type, but hey, good-looking is good-looking any way you slice it.
The short guy is scanning the room, drinking his beer and bobbing his head to the music. Then, he spots Adam, and his eyes widen a bit. "No way," he says.
"What?" Sam says. His hand moves to a bulge in his coat pocket. "What? Did you see something?"
The short guy ignores Sam and moves down the length of the bar to Adam. "Hey, man," he says, approaching, "I don't mean to pry or anything, but are you who I think you are?"
"And who would that be?" Adam asks, raising an eyebrow. He's already had a couple cases of mistaken identities, so he's learned it's better to let people tell you who they think you are.
"That one guy from American Idol...Oh shit, um..." The guy snaps his fingers, mentally searching.
Behind him, a clearly flabbergasted Sam says, "You watch American Idol?"
The shorter guy ignores Sam again and finally exclaims, "Adam! Adam Lambert, right?"
"That'd be me," Adam admits, and the guy's face lights up like he just won the lottery.
"No way. Sammy," he says happily, "do you realize who this is?"
Apparently, Sam does not realize who it is, and if he does, he certainly doesn't share the other guy's happiness over Adam's identity. He just does his bitchy-faced frown again and shakes his head.
"Hey, look," the shorter one says, "I'm sure you get this all the time, but we're huge fans. Well, I can't speak for Sam here, I suppose, but I am." He extends his hand for a handshake.
Adam accepts. Okay, just more fans. He can deal with this, so he shakes the guy's outstretched hand. "And you are...?" he says, looking for a name.
"Oh, yeah, I'm Dean. This is my brother, Sam."
"Brother?" Adam says. He has to admit that he didn't see that one coming, but hey, to each their own. Either that, or it's a guise. Maybe they're really not brothers, but they think it's easier telling people that story than the "hey, we're lovers" one. He’s seen crazier lies that guys use to cover up their personal lives.
"Yeah," Dean says. "Hey, you mind if I sit down for a sec?"
"Go ahead," Adam says, gesturing to the empty seats next to him. Sure, he wasn't looking for any personal interviews tonight, but fans are fans, and without them, he wouldn't be where he is now.
Dean sits down in the seat next to Adam while Sam remains standing and glancing from the crowd in the middle of the room to Dean and Adam.
"Hey, I just want to say, I'm sorry to hear that you lost," Dean says. "Man, when I found out you didn't win Idol, I told Sam that it must be another sign that the world really is ending." He laughs, and behind him, Sam scowls even more.
Adam gets the feeling that there's more to the story than what Dean's leading on. After all, they were talking about super angels a minute ago and now the end of the world? But, it could be slang for something, so he laughs lightly too. "Well, I wouldn't say it'd be comparable to the world ending. I mean, hey, I'm happy that I got to the number two spot. Out of all the people that tried out?" He shrugs. "That's pretty damn good, if you're asking me."
"Oh shit, yeah. Just, really, I was rooting for you. I didn't get to watch all the weeks because, well, there was some personal stuff I had to take care of, but man, bringing back the glam rock, huh? Not normally my thing--I can live without Queen--but you and Kiss? How crazy is that?"
"Tell me about it," Adam says, remembering that night when he got to stand next to Gene Simmons. Gene fucking Simmons. Shit. Just thinking about it again makes his head spin.
"I gotta say, I knew you were my guy when you came out with that Zeppelin song. Liked you before that, but shit." Dean slaps the bar. "That just nailed it right there."
"Yeah?" Adam says, grinning. Okay, so maybe the guy's a bit of a loose cannon and his "brother" is more bitchy than not, but hey, if somebody can appreciate classic rock, they get a good mark in Adam's book.
"Oh yeah. Seriously. Zeppelin rules. It's what I keep telling Sam here." Dean nudges Sam. "Right, Sam?"
"Right," Sam grumbles, looking down into his beer. "Look," he says to Adam, "it was really nice meeting you and I realize that my brother's excited and all, but we can't be staying long. We've got some...personal business to take care of."
"You guys going to be in town for a while?" Adam asks.
"Nah, probably not," Dean says. "Y'see, we've got this--how do I want to say it--got this real devil of a problem, and well, it doesn't wait."
"Isn't that how it always goes?" Adam says. "The nasty ones never do wait." He smiles, gestures to Dean's half-finished bottle. "So bad it won't even let you finish a beer, huh?"
"Ah, I'll just take it on the road with us. Too good of a beer to just let it go to waste." Adam's eyes must have widened a bit. He's no prude, given that he's broken a few rules here and there himself, but Dean's casualness at talking about it surprises him. "Oh," Dean says, seeing Adam's reaction, "if drinking and driving were the least of my problems..." He laughs at some joke that Adam can't follow. "Well, let's just say that the world would probably be a much better place."
Adam smiles, not quite sure what Dean's alluding to, but trying to be friendly all the same.
"Hey, look," Dean says, "before we run off, can I get an autograph? Just, y'know, when you hit it big, I can say, 'I met him once.'" Dean reaches over and grabs a napkin from the middle of the bar. "If you don't mind, that is."
"Yeah, no problem." Adam pats his coat. "You got a pen or something?"
"Here," Sam says, pulling a marker out of his pocket, which he hands to Dean, who then gives it to Adam.
Adam scribbles his autograph and then writes, Zeppelin Rules! beneath his name. He hands the napkin and marker back to Dean and grins. "There ya go," he says.
Dean looks down and reads the napkin. He smiles, big and wide. "You're freakin' awesome, man."
"Dean," Sam presses.
"All right, all right, Sammy." Then back to Adam, he says, "Great to meet you. Seriously. Big fan. Hey, maybe we'll see you around."
"Maybe," Adam says as Dean rises to his feet and follows Sam away from the bar. They don't waste time on any other good-byes or formalities; they move right to the exit door with Sam grumbling something about not having time to waste and Dean exclaiming, "Adam Lambert, man! Adam Lambert!"
Adam laughs and shakes his head. Not long after Sam and Dean leave, one of his friends, covered in glitter, emerges from the dance floor.
"Who was that?" she asks, nodding her head in the direction of the exit door.
"Crazy fans," Adam says. He chuckles to himself. "Just some crazy fans."
End
Rating: PG-13
Category: Gen American Idol RPF/Supernatural crossover
Word Count: 1800
Characters: Adam Lambert and Dean & Sam Winchester
Spoilers: Vague for S4 Supernatural
Warnings: None
Summary: So yeah, they're talking about angels and the end of the world, but if a fan can appreciate Zeppelin, they can't be all bad--right?
Author’s Notes: Takes place a little while after Supernatural 4.22 and the American Idol finale.
Disclaimer: The following characters and situations are used without permission of the creators, owners, and further affiliates of the television show, Supernatural, to whom they rightly belong. As far as American Idol goes, everything here is fiction except for the names, which are used without permission. I claim only what is mine, and I make no money off what is theirs.
- - - - -
He's never been quite so happy to just go to the bar and kick back as he is tonight. After back-to-back interviews that have left him exhausted, he finally has a night free to go and enjoy himself before something else pops up in his schedule.
Adam's grateful for the interviews and the attention, the fans that scream for autographs and the reporters that can't quite figure out how to ask The Question. Oh yeah, he's so grateful for all of it--what guy wouldn't be?--because this is his dream coming true at last. All the same, though, it’s nice to just get away from the chaos and have a drink with some old friends. In a few weeks, he's going to be swept away for the big cross-country tour, and as much as he loves Kris and Danny, Allison and Matt, and all the others, there's nothing like being with the friends who knew him from before.
But, at the moment, those said friends are off somewhere else. Adam's pretty sure they're out on the floor, dancing or something, and sure, he likes to dance and have a good time, but shit, he's just so tired right now. Sitting at the bar and having a drink is one thing. Getting up and dancing? Well, he hasn't had that much sleep.
The bar's not extremely busy, seeing how it's a Tuesday night, so he can't help but notice the two men that walk in. Then again, he supposes, even if the bar were packed, they'd probably stand out. The two guys are all leather jackets and faded blue jeans, muddy boots and plaid button-down shirts. Definitely not something usually seen around these parts. Adam takes a drink from his glass and watches as they work their way across the room over to the bar.
The shorter of the two guys leans on the bar and manages to catch the bartender's attention. "Two beers," he says, pulling out his wallet.
"Anything else?" the bartender asks.
"That'll do it for now." The short one, the one with spiked hair and a little golden amulet resting on his chest, pulls out an assortment of bills and hands them to the bartender.
Once the bartender moves away, the guys uncap their beers and lean back against the bar, observing the scene. Adam's sitting a few seats away, watching them. Could be tourists, he thinks, given the way they stand out. Then again, maybe they just got off a shoot somewhere, but they don't look like any actors he recognizes. Still, they seem about as exhausted and worn as he feels, so yeah, maybe they're in the business after all.
"We really should keep moving," the tall one says with a frown. "I don't know if it's a good idea to be stopping here."
"Look, Sammy," the other replies, swallowing, "if we can't take a half an hour out of our goddamn lives for a beer, then we might as well just call it quits right now."
"Castiel said we were supposed to be looking--"
"I know what Cas said. But, hey, he's got that whole 'super angel' thing going for him. We? Are human. And humans need beer breaks."
The guy who Adam now knows is Sam frowns again. It makes him look downright bitchy and constipated all at the same time, which really, is too bad because when he's not grousing, he's a good-looking guy. Not quite Adam's type, but hey, good-looking is good-looking any way you slice it.
The short guy is scanning the room, drinking his beer and bobbing his head to the music. Then, he spots Adam, and his eyes widen a bit. "No way," he says.
"What?" Sam says. His hand moves to a bulge in his coat pocket. "What? Did you see something?"
The short guy ignores Sam and moves down the length of the bar to Adam. "Hey, man," he says, approaching, "I don't mean to pry or anything, but are you who I think you are?"
"And who would that be?" Adam asks, raising an eyebrow. He's already had a couple cases of mistaken identities, so he's learned it's better to let people tell you who they think you are.
"That one guy from American Idol...Oh shit, um..." The guy snaps his fingers, mentally searching.
Behind him, a clearly flabbergasted Sam says, "You watch American Idol?"
The shorter guy ignores Sam again and finally exclaims, "Adam! Adam Lambert, right?"
"That'd be me," Adam admits, and the guy's face lights up like he just won the lottery.
"No way. Sammy," he says happily, "do you realize who this is?"
Apparently, Sam does not realize who it is, and if he does, he certainly doesn't share the other guy's happiness over Adam's identity. He just does his bitchy-faced frown again and shakes his head.
"Hey, look," the shorter one says, "I'm sure you get this all the time, but we're huge fans. Well, I can't speak for Sam here, I suppose, but I am." He extends his hand for a handshake.
Adam accepts. Okay, just more fans. He can deal with this, so he shakes the guy's outstretched hand. "And you are...?" he says, looking for a name.
"Oh, yeah, I'm Dean. This is my brother, Sam."
"Brother?" Adam says. He has to admit that he didn't see that one coming, but hey, to each their own. Either that, or it's a guise. Maybe they're really not brothers, but they think it's easier telling people that story than the "hey, we're lovers" one. He’s seen crazier lies that guys use to cover up their personal lives.
"Yeah," Dean says. "Hey, you mind if I sit down for a sec?"
"Go ahead," Adam says, gesturing to the empty seats next to him. Sure, he wasn't looking for any personal interviews tonight, but fans are fans, and without them, he wouldn't be where he is now.
Dean sits down in the seat next to Adam while Sam remains standing and glancing from the crowd in the middle of the room to Dean and Adam.
"Hey, I just want to say, I'm sorry to hear that you lost," Dean says. "Man, when I found out you didn't win Idol, I told Sam that it must be another sign that the world really is ending." He laughs, and behind him, Sam scowls even more.
Adam gets the feeling that there's more to the story than what Dean's leading on. After all, they were talking about super angels a minute ago and now the end of the world? But, it could be slang for something, so he laughs lightly too. "Well, I wouldn't say it'd be comparable to the world ending. I mean, hey, I'm happy that I got to the number two spot. Out of all the people that tried out?" He shrugs. "That's pretty damn good, if you're asking me."
"Oh shit, yeah. Just, really, I was rooting for you. I didn't get to watch all the weeks because, well, there was some personal stuff I had to take care of, but man, bringing back the glam rock, huh? Not normally my thing--I can live without Queen--but you and Kiss? How crazy is that?"
"Tell me about it," Adam says, remembering that night when he got to stand next to Gene Simmons. Gene fucking Simmons. Shit. Just thinking about it again makes his head spin.
"I gotta say, I knew you were my guy when you came out with that Zeppelin song. Liked you before that, but shit." Dean slaps the bar. "That just nailed it right there."
"Yeah?" Adam says, grinning. Okay, so maybe the guy's a bit of a loose cannon and his "brother" is more bitchy than not, but hey, if somebody can appreciate classic rock, they get a good mark in Adam's book.
"Oh yeah. Seriously. Zeppelin rules. It's what I keep telling Sam here." Dean nudges Sam. "Right, Sam?"
"Right," Sam grumbles, looking down into his beer. "Look," he says to Adam, "it was really nice meeting you and I realize that my brother's excited and all, but we can't be staying long. We've got some...personal business to take care of."
"You guys going to be in town for a while?" Adam asks.
"Nah, probably not," Dean says. "Y'see, we've got this--how do I want to say it--got this real devil of a problem, and well, it doesn't wait."
"Isn't that how it always goes?" Adam says. "The nasty ones never do wait." He smiles, gestures to Dean's half-finished bottle. "So bad it won't even let you finish a beer, huh?"
"Ah, I'll just take it on the road with us. Too good of a beer to just let it go to waste." Adam's eyes must have widened a bit. He's no prude, given that he's broken a few rules here and there himself, but Dean's casualness at talking about it surprises him. "Oh," Dean says, seeing Adam's reaction, "if drinking and driving were the least of my problems..." He laughs at some joke that Adam can't follow. "Well, let's just say that the world would probably be a much better place."
Adam smiles, not quite sure what Dean's alluding to, but trying to be friendly all the same.
"Hey, look," Dean says, "before we run off, can I get an autograph? Just, y'know, when you hit it big, I can say, 'I met him once.'" Dean reaches over and grabs a napkin from the middle of the bar. "If you don't mind, that is."
"Yeah, no problem." Adam pats his coat. "You got a pen or something?"
"Here," Sam says, pulling a marker out of his pocket, which he hands to Dean, who then gives it to Adam.
Adam scribbles his autograph and then writes, Zeppelin Rules! beneath his name. He hands the napkin and marker back to Dean and grins. "There ya go," he says.
Dean looks down and reads the napkin. He smiles, big and wide. "You're freakin' awesome, man."
"Dean," Sam presses.
"All right, all right, Sammy." Then back to Adam, he says, "Great to meet you. Seriously. Big fan. Hey, maybe we'll see you around."
"Maybe," Adam says as Dean rises to his feet and follows Sam away from the bar. They don't waste time on any other good-byes or formalities; they move right to the exit door with Sam grumbling something about not having time to waste and Dean exclaiming, "Adam Lambert, man! Adam Lambert!"
Adam laughs and shakes his head. Not long after Sam and Dean leave, one of his friends, covered in glitter, emerges from the dance floor.
"Who was that?" she asks, nodding her head in the direction of the exit door.
"Crazy fans," Adam says. He chuckles to himself. "Just some crazy fans."
End