Fic: Out of Balance (PG - Adam + Tommy Friendship)
Title: Out of Balance
Characters: Tommy/OFC, Adam/Tommy - friendship
Rating: PG
WC: 4385
Summary: (from blue_soaring ‘s prompt) Boyfriends come (and come) and go, but Tommy? He's forever.
Beta: minxie
A/N: Written for the glam_kink meme.
It was never just one thing. It was a collection of looks, a turn of phrase, the way Adam stood a little farther away than normal, didn’t hold on as long as he used to, the way his smile didn’t quite make it to his eyes. Depending on the guy and how long and how well Tommy had known him, Tommy could often see a similar shift there as well. Each a subtle cue that told Tommy that once again, one of Adam’s relationships was ending.
With Texas (so named at the beginning and the end of the relationship, not for the state the guy was raised in, that was Colorado, but for the University he had attended- Texas A&M - and the football team he insisted on rooting for) the slow disintegration came not because of a scandal or anything tawdry, though Perez and the rest of the paps were sure to go hunting. In the end, it was something Tommy and Sutan had feared from the beginning - that Texas was just not strong enough in himself to be the balance that Adam needed.
At least Texas had figured it out and gotten out before things had gotten ugly.
The official announcement arrived via email, and Tommy sure as hell hoped that Texas had held onto enough sense and class to tell Adam to his face. The message that Tommy and the others got was simple enough, it gave them Texas’ new address in Malibu, new cell number, said he cherished his friendship with them all but he needed some time to get his head on straight, and wished them all the best.
Another boyfriend down the tubes for Adam.
Tommy rolled his shoulders and looked out through the half-shuttered blinds of the kitchenette window. The wind tossed tree branches against the side of the house, the sound blending with the thrum of the shower from the bathroom. Another month and the trees would be bare. Winter, such as it was in southern California was rapidly approaching.
Tommy sighed and closed his laptop.
Well, the formal break up would certainly explain Adam’s disappearing act over the last few weeks. Aside from the assorted press and charity events Adam had had to attend, no one had seen or heard thing one from Adam for nearly three weeks.
“Damn.”
Tommy scrubbed at his scalp, pulling the bleached strands of his hair forward and back in tight clumps a fistful at a time.
“Damn it!” Tommy was usually better at spotting shit like this with Adam. He’d seen the signs, he’d even talked with Sutan and Brad about them, but they’d all agreed that nothing was going to happen for a while. So he’d waited, given Adam his space.
Tommy signed. Of course, after this many breakups, maybe Adam was just better at hiding from everyone than he used to be.
The sudden silence as the shower shut off drew Tommy’s eyes toward the bathroom. He’d need to talk to Charlie; it was pretty clear his plans for the weekend had just been thoroughly up-ended.
Unlike his last two girlfriends, Charlie (and yes, her mother had named her Charlotte just so her kid could have a boy’s nick name, Tommy loved her mom) didn’t give him shit about his friendship with Adam or try to use it to get into the biz or any crap like that.
She and Adam got along frighteningly well too. Too well sometimes. Get more than one martini in either one of them at the same time and no man was safe, though the make-out sessions generally turned out to be epic (since they usually shared Tommy), so that wasn’t too bad all things considered.
Tommy nudged the bathroom door open with his big toe and leaned up against the door frame to watch as Charlie wrapped her long red hair in a towel. She’d already slipped into the robe he’d gotten her in Paris, the silk one that hid everything and nothing all at once.
“Hey, hun,” Charlie said smiling at him in the mirror.
“Hey.”
Tommy pressed up along her back, wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. He loved the way she looked fresh out of the shower. Okay he loved the way she looked all the time, but soft and clean like this was awesome. Her face was still pink from the steam and her freckles were clear along the bridge of her nose. He turned his face into the crook of her neck and took a deep breath. She smelled of spring, not that fake shit they put in soap, but just fresh and real.
She cocked her head at him. “What’s up?”
Tommy pressed a kissed to her skin and turned to their reflection.
“Texas moved out.”
Charlie’s eyes got wide and her mouth opened and closed a few times before she finally settled on asking, “How is he?”
She wasn’t asking about the boyfriend.
Tommy shrugged. “Don’t know.”
She stroked her fingers, shower soft, along the backs of his hands. “You going over to his place?”
“Was thinking about it.”
Charlie nodded. “Take him some ice cream, and give him a hug for me, okay?”
Tommy closed his eyes and thanked Adam’s gods once again for Charlie. He nodded and kissed her shoulder, silk warm between his lips and her skin.
“You’ll be okay working the concert on your own?” he asked, rocking them gently to a beat in his head.
She smiled and swatted his wrist. “I was shooting concerts before you were born, sonny!”
Tommy laughed. She was two years and one month older than him, exactly. “Uh huh. Cause you’re like a million years old.”
“Old enough to hold my own.”
“I just…” Tommy stopped and closed his eyes.
He never used to get this protective of people. Well, he did, but not like this, not hovering and mother-hen-like. The craziness of living a life with fans and playing large venues had changed that for him. Now he knew what was out there, what could happen if you weren’t careful. They’d both learned that through experience and not the fun type where you got a lollipop at the end. He kinda wanted to keep Charlie around for a while, even if he wasn’t prepared to tell her that just yet.
Charlie turned in his arms. He could feel the glide of the silk along his skin, the thicker softness of her hair towel against his cheek, and when he opened his eyes she was looking at him, her green eyes dark and focused. Waiting for him. He loved that she waited for him to figure his thoughts out.
He shook his head.
“Sorry. You’re right. Fierce Photographer to the Stars!”
Charlie smiled at him, a soft lift of her lips. “Thank you.”
***
After a quick stop off for supplies (half a dozen ice cream flavors to sample, JD, beer, frozen pizza and burritos, along with the makings for pancakes, pretty much everything they needed for a several days of talking and hiding from the world) Tommy let himself into Adam’s place and was promptly assaulted by music. Loud, dance music throbbing from somewhere on the second floor.
Stashing the groceries, Tommy snagged a beer and followed the beat up the stairs.
The closer he got, the louder the music got until it was nearly deafening. Tommy liked his music loud, but this was ridiculous. The walls of the hallway way were vibrating and now that he was close enough, Tommy could hear that Adam was singing along with Gaga at throat ripping volume.
Turning the corner at the end of the hall, Tommy stopped dead in his tracks. This was so not what he was expecting.
Adam was standing in the middle of multi-colored chaos.
He’d draped the whole master bedroom with old sheets, stripped the walls of every photo, print, mirror and image that had once showed Texas, and he was working hard to obliterate the formerly sage green walls (a color Tommy knew damn well that Texas had picked out). He hadn’t even bothered with a primer, so in some places, where the new burgundy over-laid the green there was a mottling of color, like a forest gone mad, or a drink spilled across leaves.
Tommy tilted his head. It was kind of pretty in a loud and garish sort of way.
What was really disturbing though was the sheer amount of paint on Adam. He looked like he’d up-ended one of the cans over his head. Which made no sense, because Tommy knew for a fact that of all the so-called “macho” things to do, painting was one skill Adam was damn good at.
And, of course, he was dancing, bare foot, roller of paint in one hand, dripping paint brush in the other.
As Tommy watched, Adam bounced forward, painted a circle on the far wall then dots and a line for what he assumed was supposed to be a face. Another stroke with the brush and the “face” had a mad crop of hair sticking up on top of his head - right, Texas’ last hair cut.
Adam stepped back, seemed to admire his handiwork, then he tossed the paint brush on the sheet draped over the bed and pushed the roller over his “drawing”.
Gaga ground to a stop just in time for Tommy to hear Adam say, “damn it, Alex!” before throwing the roller onto the floor.
Tommy waited in the doorway, beer chilling his fingers. Adam didn’t move. Didn’t say anything else. Didn’t start singing again. He just stood there, face to the painted over patch of wall.
“Adam?” Tommy finally said, or tried to. His voice had gone dry on him. “Adam?”
Adam turned in the silence (Tommy found himself wondering inanely which play list Adam had been using that had come up silent so conveniently) and stared at Tommy. His eyes were red, his face shockingly pale under the splotches of paint.
“Why?”
Tommy shook his head.
“What’s so wrong with me that they won’t stay? They never fucking stay.”
“It’s not you, Adam.” Tommy sighed.
Adam laughed. It was a harsh and bitter sound.
“That’s what Alex said. - Its not you Adam, it’s me. I’m not ready for this. I can’t do this.” Adam looked around the room and then back at Tommy, loss and misery in his eyes. “Why?”
Tommy took a step into the room, walking carefully around a tray half full of paint. He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I know that it is them.”
Adam just looked at him, tears piling up at the corners of his eyes. Tommy held out his free hand.
“Come on.”
Adam starred at Tommy’s hand for a moment, almost like he didn’t know what he was looking at. Tommy wiggled it around a bit and finally Adam clutched at it with both hands.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.”
***
Tommy tugged Adam down the hall to the guest bathroom, which should, he hoped, be reasonably free of memories for the moment. He left Adam standing in the middle of the spacious room while he started the water and checked the temperature.
Turning around, Tommy sighed. Adam was swaying where he stood, silent tears running down his face as he starred at himself in the mirror.
Tommy kicked off his boots then stripped off his shirt, jeans and briefs, knowing that there was no way Adam was going to get anything done on his own in this state.
Adam had worked long and hard to con Tommy into caring about how he dressed, most of the time. So now he actually had clothes he cared about. Paint and his new jeans would not mix, and he really liked his Cure t-shirt the color it was.
“Arms up,” he said softly, tapping Adam’s chest.
Adam turned his head slowly. Tommy swallowed another sigh and tugged on the hem of Adam’s shirt. Adam raised his arms up like a child as Tommy divested him of the paint soaked T-shirt.
“Pants,” Tommy said, pushing at the waist band of his sweats. Adam wobbled a little as he lifted one leg up and then the other.
Tommy shook his head. “You are a mess, you know that?” He spoke gently, like he did when he watched Monte and Lisa’s kids, teasing and kind at the same time.
Adam didn’t say anything, just looked at him with that same lost expression. It made Tommy wonder when the last time was that Adam had slept or eaten, two things Adam tended to stop doing when he was depressed.
This was much worse than the last few break ups. Much much worse.
“Ready to get clean?” Tommy tried. This time Adam nodded and followed along as Tommy led him over the lip and into the shower.
Adam closed his eyes and turned his face to the spray. Deep red paint spiraled down his body as the hot water went to work on the patches that had seeped through his clothes and clotted in his hair.
Tommy squirted a generous amount of shampoo into his palm and pushed his hands into the wet strands. He massaged the tips of his fingers along Adam’s scalp, working his way through the mats and clumps of dried paint. When the suds where starting to look more like the paint than the shampoo, he gently angled Adam so that he could rinse his hair.
Another squirt of shampoo and Tommy was massaging Adam’s scalp again, making sure he’d gotten all of the paint out. Tommy pushed and pulled the soapy strands into different shapes on Adam’s head over and over again, enjoying the feel of the suds and wet hair.
He rinsed Adam’s hair out again then applied conditioner and left it to do its thing.
Tommy moved on to washing Adam’s body, soaping up his back and scrubbing at his skin where the paint had dried. He rubbed down his ass and along his legs. In his mind Tommy saw himself wiping away more than colors, he was pulling Texas off of Adam’s skin and out of his pores, trying to find Adam under the grief.
Back done, Tommy nudged Adam’s shoulder to get him to turn around. Adam sighed but didn’t resist. He dropped his head back, his hair streaming down to his shoulders, shinny black now and heavy with water as the conditioner washed away.
Tommy repeated his ritual on Adam’s front, pulling away the pain and calling Adam back into his body. As he stroked down Adam’s stomach, Adam’s cock twitched. Tommy kept going, keeping his movements gentle and steady. He washed Adam’s cock and balls and felt the flesh shift under his fingers, filling with blood.
Tommy glanced up and saw Adam watching him, his eyes dark with something Tommy couldn’t decipher.
They’d done this with and for each other in the past. Released the tension, helped one or the other ground and re-center, grinding into each other for relief when there wasn’t time for hands or mouths. Tommy just wasn’t sure that this was the best time for him to be jerking Adam off. He was worried that Adam couldn’t see the lines right now.
Tommy choose to continue as he had been doing, scrubbing away the dirt and paint. He knelt on the water-warmed tile and washed Adam’s thighs and calves, then lifted his feet, one at a time to clean them as well.
When he was done, Tommy stood back up, turned Adam back under the spray and let the water wash the last of the soap and Texas <&mdash>Alexaway.
***
After the shower Adam seemed more aware of his surroundings, more able, or perhaps willing, to take over drying himself off and getting into the clean clothes Tommy had dug up for him.
Tommy got dressed, while Adam made an attempt to tame his hair, thinking about pizza and a beer, since he hadn’t actually gotten to drink the first one and he figured Adam could use the food before they got into the ice cream sampling.
“Thank you,” Adam said, placing a hand on Tommy’s arm to stop him in the doorway.
He turned and nodded at Adam. “Any time. You hungry?”
Adam shrugged.
“Charlie made me get you ice cream.”
That got a smile out of Adam, a small one, but still… at least it was a smile.
“So ice cream for dinner?” Adam asked, the smile wavering but holding fast.
“Your mother would kill us both!”
“Um, last I checked we were adults.”
Tommy grinned and started down the stairs. “Doesn’t matter,” he called back over his shoulder, “that woman is meaner that both of us and Monte combined.”
“Huh,” Adam said from a few steps above. “Funny, my father says the same thing.”
“Smart man.”
***
A pizza and a half, several beers and six flavors of ice cream later and Tommy was beginning to think the weekend was going to be one long Buddhist fucking retreat. Adam had spent most of the time alternating between manic non-stop talking about his plans for the next tour, which was great except there was no third album yet, so, yeah, problem right there, and morbid silence.
Tommy had hoped for at least a little bit of something in the middle once the ice cream had come out. He got it, it just took opening all six cartons and letting them melt nearly back to their component parts before Adam’s walls came down.
“You know he mentioned Charlie.”
The words were said around a mouthful of ice cream and so softly Tommy almost didn’t hear them. Once he did he almost didn’t understand them. Of course once he did he wanted to hit something.
“He what?”
“You and Charlie, how well you work together. Alex said he envied that. Wished it could be us.”
Tommy stared at Adam. He and Charlie had worked damn hard to get where they were and Adam had played a big part in helping them find their way when the shit hit the fan. But they were nothing like Texas and Adam.
“What the hell?”
Adam dropped his spoon in his cartoon of his Karamel-Sutra ice cream. “Said he was jealous of how she never seemed to mind all the camera and fans.”
“How she took everything they threw at her and just kept going like,” Adam shrugged, spoon digging into the caramel at the core of his ice cream, his bangs obscuring his eyes. “Like nothing bothered her.”
“Excuse me?” Tommy dropped his spoon on the coffee table, too stunned to do more than gap at Adam. “Where the hell was he the last time she walked out on me over the fucking fans?” Tommy was trying to be calm this was too fucking much.
“He had plenty of chances to see her get the shit kicked out her by the crazy fans - the ones who pulled the same shit on her that they pulled on him - telling both of them that they were to blame for breaking you and me up. Didn’t he see her the night she threw that fucking cake at me when that bitch hacked into my FaceBook account and posted pictures of herself naked and tried to make it look like I was seeing her behind Charlie’s back?
“Tommy…”
“No! If he’d been here instead of glued to the TV watching a fucking football game …”
Adam’s hands popped up all set to defend Texas.
“Don’t fucking start. He made his choices.”
Adam sighed and nodded.
“You were here. You’re always here for me. You held my fucking hand while I drank myself stupid wondering if she was going to come back every time. And you never once judged me or told me I was an idiot or any of that shit.”
Tommy brushed at the traitor tears leaking from his eyes. “You bought me fucking tacos.”
“All Texas…Alex,” Tommy amended when Adam scowled, “had to do was ask. Charlie woulda told him. She woulda cracked open a bottle of Patrón, gotten them both drunk as fuck and explained it to him. But he didn’t do that. Hell, Lisa or Sophia would have done the same. Any of the signification others would have explained things to him. But he couldn’t be bothered to ask.”
Adam snorted.
“Why did she come back?”
Tommy shrugged. They’d talked long into the night about it the last time and he still only sort of understood her reasoning. It was convoluted as all fuck, and pure Charlie.
“She said being with me was better than being without.” Tommy tugged Adam’s spoon out of Adam’s lax fingers and sucked the soupy mess into his mouth. His heart still lurched when he thought about Charlie’s words. He swallowed around the cold and the warmth. “She said that all the fan bullshit just proved she was right about me.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah. I have no idea what she meant either.” Tommy dragged the spoon through the ice cream again. “Sounds good though.”
Adam nodded.
Several spoonfuls of ice cream later, Tommy looked over at Adam. There were tears lining his face.
“I just… I wanted it so much, you know?”
Tommy nodded.
“I wanted to be happy. I thought we were. I thought he was okay with it all. He looked like… he said he was.”
“I know,” Tommy said.
“But he wasn’t.” Adam turned desperate eyes to Tommy. “Was he ever?”
“Happy?” Tommy nodded and shrugged, torn between truth and comfort. “Yeah, I think he was. He looked like it to me.”
“But he didn’t love me. Couldn’t love me.”
Adam turned away, bangs hiding his face again. Tommy could see his tears dripping onto the coffee table.
“Adam….” Tommy pushed off the floor to crawl closer to Adam.
“Why? Why can’t anyone love me? Why Tommy? What’s wrong with me?”
“Adam, its not you.”
“But they always leave!”
“I know.”
“Why?” Adam looked up at Tommy, his eyes showing every broken shard and tear in his soul. “What is so horrible about me?”
“Oh Adam.” Tommy pulled Adam into a hug and held him close, stroking his hands through Adam’s hair and down his back. “Nothing. There’s not a thing wrong with you. I swear.”
“There is, I’m awful,” Adam said, shaking his head.
“No you’re not.”
Adam started shaking in Tommy’s arms, his tears soaking into Tommy’s shirt.
“Adam… yes.” Tommy squeezed Adam close. “You are amazing. The most amazing man, person I have ever met. But you can’t see it. You can strut across a stage and eye fuck half a million people through a camera lens, but come off stage, into a dark empty room and you still think you’re that frumpy ginger haired, freckle faced, fat teenager from high school that was convinced he was unlovable.”
Adam shook his head and sniffed.
“I’ve talked to Danielle. I’ve seen the pictures, hell I’ve listened to your mom’s stories. You were just like the rest of us. Dorky and confused and messed up, but so far from unlovable I don’t … fuck!”
Tommy gripped Adam’ arms and pushed him away just far enough to look him in the eyes. When Adam kept his head down, hidden behind his hair, Tommy growled.
“Look at me, Adam.”
Adam slowly raised his head.
“I love you. Monte loves you. Several million fans love you, and while we all know that a bunch of them are beyond scary, they can’t all be insane, dude.”
Adam snorted something close to a laugh.
“You’re the one who’s all about self love and you can’t find love until you love yourself and shit. Fuck you taught me that.”
Adam’s eyes go wide.
“What? You thought I wasn’t listening? Hard to ignore when you hear it nearly every night for two fucking tours.”
“Well…”
“Yeah.”
Tommy released Adam’s arms with a quick rub.
“How the hell do you think I got Charlie in the first place? She’s your damn fault!”
“Mine? How the fuck is Charlie my fault?”
“You telling me how much you love me, dressing me up and taking me places all the fucking time. Showing me off and making me believe in myself.”
“You’re gorgeous and talented.”
“Well, I believe that now. But” Tommy shrugged. “Before I met you all I wanted was a chance to play music for a living. I was content with my life, but that wasn’t the same as what I have, what I am now. Then I just hoped someone would give me a chance to do what I loved. You gave me more than that.”
“You earned it.”
“And you haven’t?”
“I…”
“You have. You do, every fucking day.”
Adam just stared at Tommy.
“How the hell does Charlie put up with your shit?” Adam said on a huff.
“All part of my charm.” Tommy laughed.
Tommy started collecting up the ice cream cartons. “Pick out a damn movie, I’ll rescue our ice cream.”
“Any requests?”
“It’s you’re house,” Tommy said, for once relinquishing control of the movie choices.
“Swear you wont bitch at me?”
Tommy rolled his eyes. “I swear… just don’t expect me to stay awake if its Enchanted or some shit like that again.”
“I’ll tuck you in if you do.”
“See that you do!”
Tommy shoved the soggy cartons into the freezer and bumped the door closed with his hip. He could hear Adam moving around in the other room, not happy or sad, just Adam for the moment. Tommy sighed and rested his hands on the counter. He knew they weren’t out of the woods yet, but at least the storm was over for the moment. Adam would think about what Tommy had said and that was a good thing. Later he’d tell Tommy more of what happened between him and Texas and there would be more tears and more recriminations, but they’d made a start.
Reaching in to the cabinet over the counter, Tommy pulled out two low balls then grabbed the bottled of JD and headed back into the living room. If Adam was gonna make him watch sappy love stories he was definitely going to need Jack to get through the night.
This entry was originally posted at http://wynkat.dreamwidth.org/31125.html.
Characters: Tommy/OFC, Adam/Tommy - friendship
Rating: PG
WC: 4385
Summary: (from blue_soaring ‘s prompt) Boyfriends come (and come) and go, but Tommy? He's forever.
Beta: minxie
A/N: Written for the glam_kink meme.
It was never just one thing. It was a collection of looks, a turn of phrase, the way Adam stood a little farther away than normal, didn’t hold on as long as he used to, the way his smile didn’t quite make it to his eyes. Depending on the guy and how long and how well Tommy had known him, Tommy could often see a similar shift there as well. Each a subtle cue that told Tommy that once again, one of Adam’s relationships was ending.
With Texas (so named at the beginning and the end of the relationship, not for the state the guy was raised in, that was Colorado, but for the University he had attended- Texas A&M - and the football team he insisted on rooting for) the slow disintegration came not because of a scandal or anything tawdry, though Perez and the rest of the paps were sure to go hunting. In the end, it was something Tommy and Sutan had feared from the beginning - that Texas was just not strong enough in himself to be the balance that Adam needed.
At least Texas had figured it out and gotten out before things had gotten ugly.
The official announcement arrived via email, and Tommy sure as hell hoped that Texas had held onto enough sense and class to tell Adam to his face. The message that Tommy and the others got was simple enough, it gave them Texas’ new address in Malibu, new cell number, said he cherished his friendship with them all but he needed some time to get his head on straight, and wished them all the best.
Another boyfriend down the tubes for Adam.
Tommy rolled his shoulders and looked out through the half-shuttered blinds of the kitchenette window. The wind tossed tree branches against the side of the house, the sound blending with the thrum of the shower from the bathroom. Another month and the trees would be bare. Winter, such as it was in southern California was rapidly approaching.
Tommy sighed and closed his laptop.
Well, the formal break up would certainly explain Adam’s disappearing act over the last few weeks. Aside from the assorted press and charity events Adam had had to attend, no one had seen or heard thing one from Adam for nearly three weeks.
“Damn.”
Tommy scrubbed at his scalp, pulling the bleached strands of his hair forward and back in tight clumps a fistful at a time.
“Damn it!” Tommy was usually better at spotting shit like this with Adam. He’d seen the signs, he’d even talked with Sutan and Brad about them, but they’d all agreed that nothing was going to happen for a while. So he’d waited, given Adam his space.
Tommy signed. Of course, after this many breakups, maybe Adam was just better at hiding from everyone than he used to be.
The sudden silence as the shower shut off drew Tommy’s eyes toward the bathroom. He’d need to talk to Charlie; it was pretty clear his plans for the weekend had just been thoroughly up-ended.
Unlike his last two girlfriends, Charlie (and yes, her mother had named her Charlotte just so her kid could have a boy’s nick name, Tommy loved her mom) didn’t give him shit about his friendship with Adam or try to use it to get into the biz or any crap like that.
She and Adam got along frighteningly well too. Too well sometimes. Get more than one martini in either one of them at the same time and no man was safe, though the make-out sessions generally turned out to be epic (since they usually shared Tommy), so that wasn’t too bad all things considered.
Tommy nudged the bathroom door open with his big toe and leaned up against the door frame to watch as Charlie wrapped her long red hair in a towel. She’d already slipped into the robe he’d gotten her in Paris, the silk one that hid everything and nothing all at once.
“Hey, hun,” Charlie said smiling at him in the mirror.
“Hey.”
Tommy pressed up along her back, wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. He loved the way she looked fresh out of the shower. Okay he loved the way she looked all the time, but soft and clean like this was awesome. Her face was still pink from the steam and her freckles were clear along the bridge of her nose. He turned his face into the crook of her neck and took a deep breath. She smelled of spring, not that fake shit they put in soap, but just fresh and real.
She cocked her head at him. “What’s up?”
Tommy pressed a kissed to her skin and turned to their reflection.
“Texas moved out.”
Charlie’s eyes got wide and her mouth opened and closed a few times before she finally settled on asking, “How is he?”
She wasn’t asking about the boyfriend.
Tommy shrugged. “Don’t know.”
She stroked her fingers, shower soft, along the backs of his hands. “You going over to his place?”
“Was thinking about it.”
Charlie nodded. “Take him some ice cream, and give him a hug for me, okay?”
Tommy closed his eyes and thanked Adam’s gods once again for Charlie. He nodded and kissed her shoulder, silk warm between his lips and her skin.
“You’ll be okay working the concert on your own?” he asked, rocking them gently to a beat in his head.
She smiled and swatted his wrist. “I was shooting concerts before you were born, sonny!”
Tommy laughed. She was two years and one month older than him, exactly. “Uh huh. Cause you’re like a million years old.”
“Old enough to hold my own.”
“I just…” Tommy stopped and closed his eyes.
He never used to get this protective of people. Well, he did, but not like this, not hovering and mother-hen-like. The craziness of living a life with fans and playing large venues had changed that for him. Now he knew what was out there, what could happen if you weren’t careful. They’d both learned that through experience and not the fun type where you got a lollipop at the end. He kinda wanted to keep Charlie around for a while, even if he wasn’t prepared to tell her that just yet.
Charlie turned in his arms. He could feel the glide of the silk along his skin, the thicker softness of her hair towel against his cheek, and when he opened his eyes she was looking at him, her green eyes dark and focused. Waiting for him. He loved that she waited for him to figure his thoughts out.
He shook his head.
“Sorry. You’re right. Fierce Photographer to the Stars!”
Charlie smiled at him, a soft lift of her lips. “Thank you.”
***
After a quick stop off for supplies (half a dozen ice cream flavors to sample, JD, beer, frozen pizza and burritos, along with the makings for pancakes, pretty much everything they needed for a several days of talking and hiding from the world) Tommy let himself into Adam’s place and was promptly assaulted by music. Loud, dance music throbbing from somewhere on the second floor.
Stashing the groceries, Tommy snagged a beer and followed the beat up the stairs.
The closer he got, the louder the music got until it was nearly deafening. Tommy liked his music loud, but this was ridiculous. The walls of the hallway way were vibrating and now that he was close enough, Tommy could hear that Adam was singing along with Gaga at throat ripping volume.
Turning the corner at the end of the hall, Tommy stopped dead in his tracks. This was so not what he was expecting.
Adam was standing in the middle of multi-colored chaos.
He’d draped the whole master bedroom with old sheets, stripped the walls of every photo, print, mirror and image that had once showed Texas, and he was working hard to obliterate the formerly sage green walls (a color Tommy knew damn well that Texas had picked out). He hadn’t even bothered with a primer, so in some places, where the new burgundy over-laid the green there was a mottling of color, like a forest gone mad, or a drink spilled across leaves.
Tommy tilted his head. It was kind of pretty in a loud and garish sort of way.
What was really disturbing though was the sheer amount of paint on Adam. He looked like he’d up-ended one of the cans over his head. Which made no sense, because Tommy knew for a fact that of all the so-called “macho” things to do, painting was one skill Adam was damn good at.
And, of course, he was dancing, bare foot, roller of paint in one hand, dripping paint brush in the other.
As Tommy watched, Adam bounced forward, painted a circle on the far wall then dots and a line for what he assumed was supposed to be a face. Another stroke with the brush and the “face” had a mad crop of hair sticking up on top of his head - right, Texas’ last hair cut.
Adam stepped back, seemed to admire his handiwork, then he tossed the paint brush on the sheet draped over the bed and pushed the roller over his “drawing”.
Gaga ground to a stop just in time for Tommy to hear Adam say, “damn it, Alex!” before throwing the roller onto the floor.
Tommy waited in the doorway, beer chilling his fingers. Adam didn’t move. Didn’t say anything else. Didn’t start singing again. He just stood there, face to the painted over patch of wall.
“Adam?” Tommy finally said, or tried to. His voice had gone dry on him. “Adam?”
Adam turned in the silence (Tommy found himself wondering inanely which play list Adam had been using that had come up silent so conveniently) and stared at Tommy. His eyes were red, his face shockingly pale under the splotches of paint.
“Why?”
Tommy shook his head.
“What’s so wrong with me that they won’t stay? They never fucking stay.”
“It’s not you, Adam.” Tommy sighed.
Adam laughed. It was a harsh and bitter sound.
“That’s what Alex said. - Its not you Adam, it’s me. I’m not ready for this. I can’t do this.” Adam looked around the room and then back at Tommy, loss and misery in his eyes. “Why?”
Tommy took a step into the room, walking carefully around a tray half full of paint. He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I know that it is them.”
Adam just looked at him, tears piling up at the corners of his eyes. Tommy held out his free hand.
“Come on.”
Adam starred at Tommy’s hand for a moment, almost like he didn’t know what he was looking at. Tommy wiggled it around a bit and finally Adam clutched at it with both hands.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.”
***
Tommy tugged Adam down the hall to the guest bathroom, which should, he hoped, be reasonably free of memories for the moment. He left Adam standing in the middle of the spacious room while he started the water and checked the temperature.
Turning around, Tommy sighed. Adam was swaying where he stood, silent tears running down his face as he starred at himself in the mirror.
Tommy kicked off his boots then stripped off his shirt, jeans and briefs, knowing that there was no way Adam was going to get anything done on his own in this state.
Adam had worked long and hard to con Tommy into caring about how he dressed, most of the time. So now he actually had clothes he cared about. Paint and his new jeans would not mix, and he really liked his Cure t-shirt the color it was.
“Arms up,” he said softly, tapping Adam’s chest.
Adam turned his head slowly. Tommy swallowed another sigh and tugged on the hem of Adam’s shirt. Adam raised his arms up like a child as Tommy divested him of the paint soaked T-shirt.
“Pants,” Tommy said, pushing at the waist band of his sweats. Adam wobbled a little as he lifted one leg up and then the other.
Tommy shook his head. “You are a mess, you know that?” He spoke gently, like he did when he watched Monte and Lisa’s kids, teasing and kind at the same time.
Adam didn’t say anything, just looked at him with that same lost expression. It made Tommy wonder when the last time was that Adam had slept or eaten, two things Adam tended to stop doing when he was depressed.
This was much worse than the last few break ups. Much much worse.
“Ready to get clean?” Tommy tried. This time Adam nodded and followed along as Tommy led him over the lip and into the shower.
Adam closed his eyes and turned his face to the spray. Deep red paint spiraled down his body as the hot water went to work on the patches that had seeped through his clothes and clotted in his hair.
Tommy squirted a generous amount of shampoo into his palm and pushed his hands into the wet strands. He massaged the tips of his fingers along Adam’s scalp, working his way through the mats and clumps of dried paint. When the suds where starting to look more like the paint than the shampoo, he gently angled Adam so that he could rinse his hair.
Another squirt of shampoo and Tommy was massaging Adam’s scalp again, making sure he’d gotten all of the paint out. Tommy pushed and pulled the soapy strands into different shapes on Adam’s head over and over again, enjoying the feel of the suds and wet hair.
He rinsed Adam’s hair out again then applied conditioner and left it to do its thing.
Tommy moved on to washing Adam’s body, soaping up his back and scrubbing at his skin where the paint had dried. He rubbed down his ass and along his legs. In his mind Tommy saw himself wiping away more than colors, he was pulling Texas off of Adam’s skin and out of his pores, trying to find Adam under the grief.
Back done, Tommy nudged Adam’s shoulder to get him to turn around. Adam sighed but didn’t resist. He dropped his head back, his hair streaming down to his shoulders, shinny black now and heavy with water as the conditioner washed away.
Tommy repeated his ritual on Adam’s front, pulling away the pain and calling Adam back into his body. As he stroked down Adam’s stomach, Adam’s cock twitched. Tommy kept going, keeping his movements gentle and steady. He washed Adam’s cock and balls and felt the flesh shift under his fingers, filling with blood.
Tommy glanced up and saw Adam watching him, his eyes dark with something Tommy couldn’t decipher.
They’d done this with and for each other in the past. Released the tension, helped one or the other ground and re-center, grinding into each other for relief when there wasn’t time for hands or mouths. Tommy just wasn’t sure that this was the best time for him to be jerking Adam off. He was worried that Adam couldn’t see the lines right now.
Tommy choose to continue as he had been doing, scrubbing away the dirt and paint. He knelt on the water-warmed tile and washed Adam’s thighs and calves, then lifted his feet, one at a time to clean them as well.
When he was done, Tommy stood back up, turned Adam back under the spray and let the water wash the last of the soap and Texas <&mdash>Alexaway.
***
After the shower Adam seemed more aware of his surroundings, more able, or perhaps willing, to take over drying himself off and getting into the clean clothes Tommy had dug up for him.
Tommy got dressed, while Adam made an attempt to tame his hair, thinking about pizza and a beer, since he hadn’t actually gotten to drink the first one and he figured Adam could use the food before they got into the ice cream sampling.
“Thank you,” Adam said, placing a hand on Tommy’s arm to stop him in the doorway.
He turned and nodded at Adam. “Any time. You hungry?”
Adam shrugged.
“Charlie made me get you ice cream.”
That got a smile out of Adam, a small one, but still… at least it was a smile.
“So ice cream for dinner?” Adam asked, the smile wavering but holding fast.
“Your mother would kill us both!”
“Um, last I checked we were adults.”
Tommy grinned and started down the stairs. “Doesn’t matter,” he called back over his shoulder, “that woman is meaner that both of us and Monte combined.”
“Huh,” Adam said from a few steps above. “Funny, my father says the same thing.”
“Smart man.”
***
A pizza and a half, several beers and six flavors of ice cream later and Tommy was beginning to think the weekend was going to be one long Buddhist fucking retreat. Adam had spent most of the time alternating between manic non-stop talking about his plans for the next tour, which was great except there was no third album yet, so, yeah, problem right there, and morbid silence.
Tommy had hoped for at least a little bit of something in the middle once the ice cream had come out. He got it, it just took opening all six cartons and letting them melt nearly back to their component parts before Adam’s walls came down.
“You know he mentioned Charlie.”
The words were said around a mouthful of ice cream and so softly Tommy almost didn’t hear them. Once he did he almost didn’t understand them. Of course once he did he wanted to hit something.
“He what?”
“You and Charlie, how well you work together. Alex said he envied that. Wished it could be us.”
Tommy stared at Adam. He and Charlie had worked damn hard to get where they were and Adam had played a big part in helping them find their way when the shit hit the fan. But they were nothing like Texas and Adam.
“What the hell?”
Adam dropped his spoon in his cartoon of his Karamel-Sutra ice cream. “Said he was jealous of how she never seemed to mind all the camera and fans.”
“How she took everything they threw at her and just kept going like,” Adam shrugged, spoon digging into the caramel at the core of his ice cream, his bangs obscuring his eyes. “Like nothing bothered her.”
“Excuse me?” Tommy dropped his spoon on the coffee table, too stunned to do more than gap at Adam. “Where the hell was he the last time she walked out on me over the fucking fans?” Tommy was trying to be calm this was too fucking much.
“He had plenty of chances to see her get the shit kicked out her by the crazy fans - the ones who pulled the same shit on her that they pulled on him - telling both of them that they were to blame for breaking you and me up. Didn’t he see her the night she threw that fucking cake at me when that bitch hacked into my FaceBook account and posted pictures of herself naked and tried to make it look like I was seeing her behind Charlie’s back?
“Tommy…”
“No! If he’d been here instead of glued to the TV watching a fucking football game …”
Adam’s hands popped up all set to defend Texas.
“Don’t fucking start. He made his choices.”
Adam sighed and nodded.
“You were here. You’re always here for me. You held my fucking hand while I drank myself stupid wondering if she was going to come back every time. And you never once judged me or told me I was an idiot or any of that shit.”
Tommy brushed at the traitor tears leaking from his eyes. “You bought me fucking tacos.”
“All Texas…Alex,” Tommy amended when Adam scowled, “had to do was ask. Charlie woulda told him. She woulda cracked open a bottle of Patrón, gotten them both drunk as fuck and explained it to him. But he didn’t do that. Hell, Lisa or Sophia would have done the same. Any of the signification others would have explained things to him. But he couldn’t be bothered to ask.”
Adam snorted.
“Why did she come back?”
Tommy shrugged. They’d talked long into the night about it the last time and he still only sort of understood her reasoning. It was convoluted as all fuck, and pure Charlie.
“She said being with me was better than being without.” Tommy tugged Adam’s spoon out of Adam’s lax fingers and sucked the soupy mess into his mouth. His heart still lurched when he thought about Charlie’s words. He swallowed around the cold and the warmth. “She said that all the fan bullshit just proved she was right about me.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah. I have no idea what she meant either.” Tommy dragged the spoon through the ice cream again. “Sounds good though.”
Adam nodded.
Several spoonfuls of ice cream later, Tommy looked over at Adam. There were tears lining his face.
“I just… I wanted it so much, you know?”
Tommy nodded.
“I wanted to be happy. I thought we were. I thought he was okay with it all. He looked like… he said he was.”
“I know,” Tommy said.
“But he wasn’t.” Adam turned desperate eyes to Tommy. “Was he ever?”
“Happy?” Tommy nodded and shrugged, torn between truth and comfort. “Yeah, I think he was. He looked like it to me.”
“But he didn’t love me. Couldn’t love me.”
Adam turned away, bangs hiding his face again. Tommy could see his tears dripping onto the coffee table.
“Adam….” Tommy pushed off the floor to crawl closer to Adam.
“Why? Why can’t anyone love me? Why Tommy? What’s wrong with me?”
“Adam, its not you.”
“But they always leave!”
“I know.”
“Why?” Adam looked up at Tommy, his eyes showing every broken shard and tear in his soul. “What is so horrible about me?”
“Oh Adam.” Tommy pulled Adam into a hug and held him close, stroking his hands through Adam’s hair and down his back. “Nothing. There’s not a thing wrong with you. I swear.”
“There is, I’m awful,” Adam said, shaking his head.
“No you’re not.”
Adam started shaking in Tommy’s arms, his tears soaking into Tommy’s shirt.
“Adam… yes.” Tommy squeezed Adam close. “You are amazing. The most amazing man, person I have ever met. But you can’t see it. You can strut across a stage and eye fuck half a million people through a camera lens, but come off stage, into a dark empty room and you still think you’re that frumpy ginger haired, freckle faced, fat teenager from high school that was convinced he was unlovable.”
Adam shook his head and sniffed.
“I’ve talked to Danielle. I’ve seen the pictures, hell I’ve listened to your mom’s stories. You were just like the rest of us. Dorky and confused and messed up, but so far from unlovable I don’t … fuck!”
Tommy gripped Adam’ arms and pushed him away just far enough to look him in the eyes. When Adam kept his head down, hidden behind his hair, Tommy growled.
“Look at me, Adam.”
Adam slowly raised his head.
“I love you. Monte loves you. Several million fans love you, and while we all know that a bunch of them are beyond scary, they can’t all be insane, dude.”
Adam snorted something close to a laugh.
“You’re the one who’s all about self love and you can’t find love until you love yourself and shit. Fuck you taught me that.”
Adam’s eyes go wide.
“What? You thought I wasn’t listening? Hard to ignore when you hear it nearly every night for two fucking tours.”
“Well…”
“Yeah.”
Tommy released Adam’s arms with a quick rub.
“How the hell do you think I got Charlie in the first place? She’s your damn fault!”
“Mine? How the fuck is Charlie my fault?”
“You telling me how much you love me, dressing me up and taking me places all the fucking time. Showing me off and making me believe in myself.”
“You’re gorgeous and talented.”
“Well, I believe that now. But” Tommy shrugged. “Before I met you all I wanted was a chance to play music for a living. I was content with my life, but that wasn’t the same as what I have, what I am now. Then I just hoped someone would give me a chance to do what I loved. You gave me more than that.”
“You earned it.”
“And you haven’t?”
“I…”
“You have. You do, every fucking day.”
Adam just stared at Tommy.
“How the hell does Charlie put up with your shit?” Adam said on a huff.
“All part of my charm.” Tommy laughed.
Tommy started collecting up the ice cream cartons. “Pick out a damn movie, I’ll rescue our ice cream.”
“Any requests?”
“It’s you’re house,” Tommy said, for once relinquishing control of the movie choices.
“Swear you wont bitch at me?”
Tommy rolled his eyes. “I swear… just don’t expect me to stay awake if its Enchanted or some shit like that again.”
“I’ll tuck you in if you do.”
“See that you do!”
Tommy shoved the soggy cartons into the freezer and bumped the door closed with his hip. He could hear Adam moving around in the other room, not happy or sad, just Adam for the moment. Tommy sighed and rested his hands on the counter. He knew they weren’t out of the woods yet, but at least the storm was over for the moment. Adam would think about what Tommy had said and that was a good thing. Later he’d tell Tommy more of what happened between him and Texas and there would be more tears and more recriminations, but they’d made a start.
Reaching in to the cabinet over the counter, Tommy pulled out two low balls then grabbed the bottled of JD and headed back into the living room. If Adam was gonna make him watch sappy love stories he was definitely going to need Jack to get through the night.
This entry was originally posted at http://wynkat.dreamwidth.org/31125.html.