DRABBLE MEME: BATCH 10
Simon Curtis* - mentor, adoration, crush by lyingdelilaah
Simon had been working for years to make it in Hollywood. He’d done the semi-embarrassing photo shoots, the truly embarrassing Camp Rock knock-off movie. He earned enough money that he could start recording his music and he was not afraid to pimp himself to anyone who might take notice. Making his album available for free download seemed like a fair trade for the word of mouth promotion he could get. He was hoping he could build enough industry capital to get someone to sign him, let him release his next album for real.
It was working for him, a few bloggers had noticed, a couple of smaller music websites took an interest in him. He was building a fairly steady fan base at the same time. He really could not believe there was a Simon Curtis Daily account on Twitter. Of course the micro-blogging site had been the catalyst for a much more exciting connection.
Adam Lambert had come out of nowhere, lighting up the American Idol stage and leaving behind ashes at his season’s end. Simon figured reality TV had to be just as embarrassing as bad teenybopper movies. Adam never seemed embarrassed though, in fact he seemed to have an unflappable confidence. At times Simon was awestruck as he watched the man navigate through the sticky media minefield that was the AMAs fall out. He considered Adam something of a mentor, though they’d never had a conversation.
That changed one day when Simon took a chance and tweeted Adam about his album. Not too much later Adam followed him, and sent him a message about how much he liked the album. Simon had been shocked, but excited. He kind of adored Adam Lambert.
In the weeks that followed they would message each other sometimes on Twitter, okay, Simon messaged Adam a lot and every now and then Adam would reply. One or two times he did so publicly. Simon wanted to feel ashamed of the little thrill he got out of those moments, but fuck it, he was proud enough that he managed not to publicly flail whenever Adam’s face showed up on his feed.
As Simon planned for his first live performance ever he found himself relying on Adam a lot for advice, and Adam did his best to respond when he could. Considering the man was doing a promo tour all over Europe (and looking amazing in a kilt by the way) Simon was surprised by how much he’d been able to respond. Little by little their conversations became a little less work focused, though they still talked about music a lot. One night while Adam was in England Simon was surprised to get a message initiated by Adam. He was apparently so exhausted that sleep refused to come to him. They chatted for a while and Adam finally gave him his phone number, Simon would never tell him he stored it in his phone in three separate entries for fear of losing it. He couldn’t resist the urge to call the number just to make sure he had it right and instead of being annoyed Adam chuckled warmly.
“Hey, come to my show.” He’d said without thinking. “I mean um…if you want to, if you can. I know you’re busy and I don’t even know if you’ll be home but if you want to come to my show, your name will be on the list.” Adam laughed again and told Simon to relax, said he’d be there if he could. Simon could hear the deep exhaustion in the other man’s voice, hated the idea of someone like Adam all alone and miserable. “I think I might have some music that’ll help you sleep.” He said already going to his computer to send Adam a selection of Darren Hayes’s music. “Tell me what you think of it okay?”
They’d ended the conversation shortly after that and before Simon could make himself go to bed he sent Adam a quick tweet to remind him to listen to the music. When he woke up the next day he had a text on his phone from Adam that said simply “Thank you”. He didn’t hear from Adam again as he put the final touches on his show, but he found he didn’t have any time to dwell on it, until the day of. He realized Adam was flying home from England that day and probably wouldn’t get in until right before his set started and he forced himself to accept the fact that Adam would not be there, reminding himself just how lucky he was to be doing this at all. He was shocked twenty minutes before he started when his phone rang and Adam’s name lit up his screen. “Hey, where can I find you?” Adam’s voice still sounded tired, but it was a more relieved voice than it had been last time they talked.
Adam was there, rushed home from the airport to shower and change, and got to the venue with his hair still wet. He was there and real, and pulling Simon into a warm friendly embrace. He told Simon to break a leg and then asked if they could talk after. Simon laughed, the question seeming absurd to him, he was open to doing pretty much anything Adam wanted him too.
After the show he found Adam and returned the hug he’d received early, shifting up on his tip toes and kissing Adam’s cheek. “Thank you so much.” He said genuinely, and took note of the slight yawn that caught Adam’s response in his throat. “Hey, go home, get some rest. Can I call you tomorrow?” Adam nodded and smiled that slow, sweet grin and then there was another hug and Simon could get used to this way too quickly. As Adam walked out of the venue, Simon could feel his face flushing. He was pretty sure he hadn’t had a crush like this since he was a kid.
Sutan Amrull*/Tommy Ratliff* - Unprompted by Anon
“You sure about this?” Even though the words were more teasing than anything else he knew his concern showed in his eyes, or would to anyone who knew him well enough.
“Yeah, I'm sure.” Adam's smile just adding strength to the conviction in his voice. “It's not as if we can go making public statements out there and as Monte and Taylor do it as well. No one's going to comment on anything other than my hair.”
Nodding he gently tugged Adam's head against his stomach cradling his chin as he worked out the path that the clippers were going to take. This was nothing new between them, this causal affection, casual touching, even casual sex - though there was never really anything casual about sex when Adam was involved
It had always been like that with them - it was like that with them for their whole group of friends. Touching and affection that simply lead where those kind of things always did, a natural extension of their love for one another. An extension that was still the norm even; when Adam had been with Brad, the same when he'd settled into his own relationship.
As the soothing buzz of the clippers started to settle round them he was unsurprised to look up and find Tommy slipping quietly into the room. Taking the stool in front on Adam his fingers winding with Adam's as they held hands.
Things had changed for a little while when Tommy had come into Adam's life, but only really for the brief moment it took him to settle in; to find his place at Adam's side. Even though Tommy wasn't from their world as such, he seemed to understand, seemed to accept - just as affectionate in his own right once he was comfortable with you. Someone who added to the whole not detracted from it.
The smile he gave Tommy as the clipper's pressed against Adam's skin was returned to him in equal measure, open, relaxed and warm with affection and maybe even love.
The little statement that Adam was making for Tommy became something shared between all three of them and by the same token becoming something for that small group that had been Adam's friends before this journey started.
A statement of Adam's feeling for Tommy and an acknowledgment of all their shared friendships and the love that came with them.
Tommy Ratliff* - Unprompted by janescott (A/N: x-posted by request from teamratbert)>
Adam's always buzzing after a show; high on adrenalin and as hard as a fucking rock. Used to be he'd have to find little corners to get himself off, but not any more.
He curls his hand around Tommy's upper arm, and half-drags him to an empty dressing room, closing the door and locking it. He crowds Tommy into the door and grins when Tommy goes pliant, leaning against it and tipping his head back.
"Turn around." Adam's voice is low and gravelly from the show and he feels the shudder that goes through Tommy, which makes his cock jump.
"Hurry up. We don't have long."
Tommy turns around, facing the door, bracing his hands against it, and biting back a moan as Adam reaches around, pulling his fly down. Adam grips the base of Tommy's cock with one hand, pushing his other against the plug Tommy's been wearing most of the day.
"Shit! Fuck!" Tommy nearly yelps when the plug pushes against his prostate.
"Shhh ... someone will hear you."
Tommy takes a deep breath and wordlessly re-angles himself to make access easier for Adam.
Adam gropes in his makeup bag for a lube packet, opening it hurriedly and slicks his aching cock. He bites back a moan as he gives himself a leisurely stroke, the sight of Tommy's hole - stretched and open from the plug - just begging to be filled.
Adam teases Tommy's hole with the tip of his leaking, slick cock, and Tommy pushes back, instinctively, but Adam grips his hip; digging his fingernails into sensitive skin. "Patience, pretty. And if you're good, I'll let you come ..."
Tommy tilts his head back, opening his eyes wide, the silently pleading look on his face that he knows Adam can never resist.
Adam just smirks a little, and puts a hand on Tommy's shoulder suddenly pushing in, hard. Tommy has to bite down on his lip to stop sound escaping and soon the only noise in the room is the slap of skin-on-skin as Adam fucks him, fast and hard.
Adam digs his fingers into Tommy's shoulder; whispering filth in his ear; his voice breathless. He feels his orgasm build hot and fast at the base of his spine. The only warning he gives Tommy is biting down on his shoulder, hard, as he comes.
Tommy whines, high in the back of his throat, his fingers scratching at the wood of the door. His chest is heaving and his t-shirt is sticking to his sweaty skin. Adam reaches around and starts fisting his cock, tight and fast.
"C'mon ... so fucking good, Tommy ..." and that's all it takes before Tommy's spilling over the door, and shit - his shirt - and Adam's hand. He slumps, Adam's arm around his waist the only thing holding him up.
Adam slides the plug back in; the way slicked by lube and his own come.
"Good boy," he whispers against Tommy's ear.
"We better get to the bus."
Brad Bell* - Glitter, dancing, fun by Anon
Adam never says it, but Brad reminds him of a bird sometimes. The way his delicate bones shift under Adam's hands; the way he's in constant motion - it makes Adam think of a hummingbird, needing to move just to live.
He never tells Brad - it's one of the (many) things Adam thinks about Brad that he tamps down and keeps to himself.
He doesn't trust himself enough yet to share all of his secrets.
And it's never the right time. They're either getting ready for a party, it seems to Adam, or stumbling home from a party, and in-between ... it's never the right time.
Right now; watching Brad glitter under the strobe lights of the club, dancing with abandon; just - having fun, Adam wonders if he'll ever tell Brad all of his secrets.
But then Brad's right there, still in constant motion, pulling Adam up, towards the dance floor, winding their fingers together, and tugging him along, laughing breathlessly over his shoulder as the lights flash blue/red/green/pink in his eyes.
Adam lets himself be pulled towards the dancefloor; gets lost in Brad's constant motion as their bodies collide in the middle of the floor.
Jesse Giddings* (Canadian VJ guy) - Unprompted by glamchemy (A/N: beta by sporadicfungiad)
“You’re too tall for me.”
Jesse laughs, caught red-handed without an ounce of embarrassment, and it makes Adam laugh in turn. He’d picked up on Jesse’s eyes zeroing in on him two seconds after they’d met, and wasted no time in telling him those words when they got two seconds alone.
“I don’t give up easy,” Jesse says with a smirk, which turns into a less private television smile as the cameras turned on. When he held the mic at Adam’s lips for the interview, he didn’t hide the fantasies playing out in his mind while Adam droned on about his new single. It was all over his face, that clear, mischievous wanting, and so rarely was Adam on this end of the stick it that it amuses and amazes him at the same time.
“Call me, all right?” Jesse punches his number into Adam’s phone without waiting for permission, and then pauses suddenly, with a knowing eye-roll. “Or, okay, fine. I’ll call you.” He rings up his cell with Adam’s phone and hangs up.
“And don’t come up with any excuses about how I’m also too ‘Canadian’ for you.”
That makes Adam crack up, and Jesse captures the moment with his phone, pairing the photo with Adam’s number.
“So I’ll know who you are.” He wags his phone in the air as he walks away, as Adam is whisked by Lane back over the border. “Like I don’t already do.”
-
They meet again a few months later, when Jesse hears about his performance and drops in for rehearsal.
“You never even called,” Jesse mock pouts, fiddling with his signature beanie, as though he actually feels an inkling of nervousness this time.
“That’s not true!” Adam protests, considering bringing out his iPhone and hunting down the few conversations they had in his inbox. “Or, well. I texted!”
Jesse stares at him a good long while, and it would have been creepy if it wasn’t so Jesse. “Oh, fuck you,” he says with exaggerated spite, almost convincing, then, without missing a beat, “you’re too cute.”
Adam hopes the large sunglasses he’s wearing are enough to mask the flush that suddenly darts across his cheeks. He’d forgotten how it felt, to receive a compliment not because he looked good in a photo shoot or sang well in a show, but simply because he was Adam. It’s… nice.
Jesse regards his silence, or maybe the faint grin on his mouth. He takes Adam by the wrist and tilts his head to a corner conveniently hidden in the camera’s blindside.
“Whataya say?” He smirks, and Adam doesn’t miss his sneaky little song reference.
Once they are out of sight Jesse pushes him against the wall gently, the lean, long frame of him pressed up against Adam’s front as he dips his head low, making their smiles meet.
Jesse kisses quickly and teasingly, much like he does anything else, and there is no hesitance in his hands as they lift up Adam’s shirt, pull down his zipper. He’s sucking on a sweet spot on Adam’s neck one second and going down on his knees the next, his expression betraying the satisfaction of finally, finally getting to do to Adam everything he’d imagined that first day in the studio.
“Am I still too tall for you?” he asks with that perpetually playful smirk, and Adam laughs breathlessly before he’s rendered breathless by something else entirely.
Simon had been working for years to make it in Hollywood. He’d done the semi-embarrassing photo shoots, the truly embarrassing Camp Rock knock-off movie. He earned enough money that he could start recording his music and he was not afraid to pimp himself to anyone who might take notice. Making his album available for free download seemed like a fair trade for the word of mouth promotion he could get. He was hoping he could build enough industry capital to get someone to sign him, let him release his next album for real.
It was working for him, a few bloggers had noticed, a couple of smaller music websites took an interest in him. He was building a fairly steady fan base at the same time. He really could not believe there was a Simon Curtis Daily account on Twitter. Of course the micro-blogging site had been the catalyst for a much more exciting connection.
Adam Lambert had come out of nowhere, lighting up the American Idol stage and leaving behind ashes at his season’s end. Simon figured reality TV had to be just as embarrassing as bad teenybopper movies. Adam never seemed embarrassed though, in fact he seemed to have an unflappable confidence. At times Simon was awestruck as he watched the man navigate through the sticky media minefield that was the AMAs fall out. He considered Adam something of a mentor, though they’d never had a conversation.
That changed one day when Simon took a chance and tweeted Adam about his album. Not too much later Adam followed him, and sent him a message about how much he liked the album. Simon had been shocked, but excited. He kind of adored Adam Lambert.
In the weeks that followed they would message each other sometimes on Twitter, okay, Simon messaged Adam a lot and every now and then Adam would reply. One or two times he did so publicly. Simon wanted to feel ashamed of the little thrill he got out of those moments, but fuck it, he was proud enough that he managed not to publicly flail whenever Adam’s face showed up on his feed.
As Simon planned for his first live performance ever he found himself relying on Adam a lot for advice, and Adam did his best to respond when he could. Considering the man was doing a promo tour all over Europe (and looking amazing in a kilt by the way) Simon was surprised by how much he’d been able to respond. Little by little their conversations became a little less work focused, though they still talked about music a lot. One night while Adam was in England Simon was surprised to get a message initiated by Adam. He was apparently so exhausted that sleep refused to come to him. They chatted for a while and Adam finally gave him his phone number, Simon would never tell him he stored it in his phone in three separate entries for fear of losing it. He couldn’t resist the urge to call the number just to make sure he had it right and instead of being annoyed Adam chuckled warmly.
“Hey, come to my show.” He’d said without thinking. “I mean um…if you want to, if you can. I know you’re busy and I don’t even know if you’ll be home but if you want to come to my show, your name will be on the list.” Adam laughed again and told Simon to relax, said he’d be there if he could. Simon could hear the deep exhaustion in the other man’s voice, hated the idea of someone like Adam all alone and miserable. “I think I might have some music that’ll help you sleep.” He said already going to his computer to send Adam a selection of Darren Hayes’s music. “Tell me what you think of it okay?”
They’d ended the conversation shortly after that and before Simon could make himself go to bed he sent Adam a quick tweet to remind him to listen to the music. When he woke up the next day he had a text on his phone from Adam that said simply “Thank you”. He didn’t hear from Adam again as he put the final touches on his show, but he found he didn’t have any time to dwell on it, until the day of. He realized Adam was flying home from England that day and probably wouldn’t get in until right before his set started and he forced himself to accept the fact that Adam would not be there, reminding himself just how lucky he was to be doing this at all. He was shocked twenty minutes before he started when his phone rang and Adam’s name lit up his screen. “Hey, where can I find you?” Adam’s voice still sounded tired, but it was a more relieved voice than it had been last time they talked.
Adam was there, rushed home from the airport to shower and change, and got to the venue with his hair still wet. He was there and real, and pulling Simon into a warm friendly embrace. He told Simon to break a leg and then asked if they could talk after. Simon laughed, the question seeming absurd to him, he was open to doing pretty much anything Adam wanted him too.
After the show he found Adam and returned the hug he’d received early, shifting up on his tip toes and kissing Adam’s cheek. “Thank you so much.” He said genuinely, and took note of the slight yawn that caught Adam’s response in his throat. “Hey, go home, get some rest. Can I call you tomorrow?” Adam nodded and smiled that slow, sweet grin and then there was another hug and Simon could get used to this way too quickly. As Adam walked out of the venue, Simon could feel his face flushing. He was pretty sure he hadn’t had a crush like this since he was a kid.
Sutan Amrull*/Tommy Ratliff* - Unprompted by Anon
“You sure about this?” Even though the words were more teasing than anything else he knew his concern showed in his eyes, or would to anyone who knew him well enough.
“Yeah, I'm sure.” Adam's smile just adding strength to the conviction in his voice. “It's not as if we can go making public statements out there and as Monte and Taylor do it as well. No one's going to comment on anything other than my hair.”
Nodding he gently tugged Adam's head against his stomach cradling his chin as he worked out the path that the clippers were going to take. This was nothing new between them, this causal affection, casual touching, even casual sex - though there was never really anything casual about sex when Adam was involved
It had always been like that with them - it was like that with them for their whole group of friends. Touching and affection that simply lead where those kind of things always did, a natural extension of their love for one another. An extension that was still the norm even; when Adam had been with Brad, the same when he'd settled into his own relationship.
As the soothing buzz of the clippers started to settle round them he was unsurprised to look up and find Tommy slipping quietly into the room. Taking the stool in front on Adam his fingers winding with Adam's as they held hands.
Things had changed for a little while when Tommy had come into Adam's life, but only really for the brief moment it took him to settle in; to find his place at Adam's side. Even though Tommy wasn't from their world as such, he seemed to understand, seemed to accept - just as affectionate in his own right once he was comfortable with you. Someone who added to the whole not detracted from it.
The smile he gave Tommy as the clipper's pressed against Adam's skin was returned to him in equal measure, open, relaxed and warm with affection and maybe even love.
The little statement that Adam was making for Tommy became something shared between all three of them and by the same token becoming something for that small group that had been Adam's friends before this journey started.
A statement of Adam's feeling for Tommy and an acknowledgment of all their shared friendships and the love that came with them.
Tommy Ratliff* - Unprompted by janescott (A/N: x-posted by request from teamratbert)>
Adam's always buzzing after a show; high on adrenalin and as hard as a fucking rock. Used to be he'd have to find little corners to get himself off, but not any more.
He curls his hand around Tommy's upper arm, and half-drags him to an empty dressing room, closing the door and locking it. He crowds Tommy into the door and grins when Tommy goes pliant, leaning against it and tipping his head back.
"Turn around." Adam's voice is low and gravelly from the show and he feels the shudder that goes through Tommy, which makes his cock jump.
"Hurry up. We don't have long."
Tommy turns around, facing the door, bracing his hands against it, and biting back a moan as Adam reaches around, pulling his fly down. Adam grips the base of Tommy's cock with one hand, pushing his other against the plug Tommy's been wearing most of the day.
"Shit! Fuck!" Tommy nearly yelps when the plug pushes against his prostate.
"Shhh ... someone will hear you."
Tommy takes a deep breath and wordlessly re-angles himself to make access easier for Adam.
Adam gropes in his makeup bag for a lube packet, opening it hurriedly and slicks his aching cock. He bites back a moan as he gives himself a leisurely stroke, the sight of Tommy's hole - stretched and open from the plug - just begging to be filled.
Adam teases Tommy's hole with the tip of his leaking, slick cock, and Tommy pushes back, instinctively, but Adam grips his hip; digging his fingernails into sensitive skin. "Patience, pretty. And if you're good, I'll let you come ..."
Tommy tilts his head back, opening his eyes wide, the silently pleading look on his face that he knows Adam can never resist.
Adam just smirks a little, and puts a hand on Tommy's shoulder suddenly pushing in, hard. Tommy has to bite down on his lip to stop sound escaping and soon the only noise in the room is the slap of skin-on-skin as Adam fucks him, fast and hard.
Adam digs his fingers into Tommy's shoulder; whispering filth in his ear; his voice breathless. He feels his orgasm build hot and fast at the base of his spine. The only warning he gives Tommy is biting down on his shoulder, hard, as he comes.
Tommy whines, high in the back of his throat, his fingers scratching at the wood of the door. His chest is heaving and his t-shirt is sticking to his sweaty skin. Adam reaches around and starts fisting his cock, tight and fast.
"C'mon ... so fucking good, Tommy ..." and that's all it takes before Tommy's spilling over the door, and shit - his shirt - and Adam's hand. He slumps, Adam's arm around his waist the only thing holding him up.
Adam slides the plug back in; the way slicked by lube and his own come.
"Good boy," he whispers against Tommy's ear.
"We better get to the bus."
Brad Bell* - Glitter, dancing, fun by Anon
Adam never says it, but Brad reminds him of a bird sometimes. The way his delicate bones shift under Adam's hands; the way he's in constant motion - it makes Adam think of a hummingbird, needing to move just to live.
He never tells Brad - it's one of the (many) things Adam thinks about Brad that he tamps down and keeps to himself.
He doesn't trust himself enough yet to share all of his secrets.
And it's never the right time. They're either getting ready for a party, it seems to Adam, or stumbling home from a party, and in-between ... it's never the right time.
Right now; watching Brad glitter under the strobe lights of the club, dancing with abandon; just - having fun, Adam wonders if he'll ever tell Brad all of his secrets.
But then Brad's right there, still in constant motion, pulling Adam up, towards the dance floor, winding their fingers together, and tugging him along, laughing breathlessly over his shoulder as the lights flash blue/red/green/pink in his eyes.
Adam lets himself be pulled towards the dancefloor; gets lost in Brad's constant motion as their bodies collide in the middle of the floor.
Jesse Giddings* (Canadian VJ guy) - Unprompted by glamchemy (A/N: beta by sporadicfungiad)
“You’re too tall for me.”
Jesse laughs, caught red-handed without an ounce of embarrassment, and it makes Adam laugh in turn. He’d picked up on Jesse’s eyes zeroing in on him two seconds after they’d met, and wasted no time in telling him those words when they got two seconds alone.
“I don’t give up easy,” Jesse says with a smirk, which turns into a less private television smile as the cameras turned on. When he held the mic at Adam’s lips for the interview, he didn’t hide the fantasies playing out in his mind while Adam droned on about his new single. It was all over his face, that clear, mischievous wanting, and so rarely was Adam on this end of the stick it that it amuses and amazes him at the same time.
“Call me, all right?” Jesse punches his number into Adam’s phone without waiting for permission, and then pauses suddenly, with a knowing eye-roll. “Or, okay, fine. I’ll call you.” He rings up his cell with Adam’s phone and hangs up.
“And don’t come up with any excuses about how I’m also too ‘Canadian’ for you.”
That makes Adam crack up, and Jesse captures the moment with his phone, pairing the photo with Adam’s number.
“So I’ll know who you are.” He wags his phone in the air as he walks away, as Adam is whisked by Lane back over the border. “Like I don’t already do.”
-
They meet again a few months later, when Jesse hears about his performance and drops in for rehearsal.
“You never even called,” Jesse mock pouts, fiddling with his signature beanie, as though he actually feels an inkling of nervousness this time.
“That’s not true!” Adam protests, considering bringing out his iPhone and hunting down the few conversations they had in his inbox. “Or, well. I texted!”
Jesse stares at him a good long while, and it would have been creepy if it wasn’t so Jesse. “Oh, fuck you,” he says with exaggerated spite, almost convincing, then, without missing a beat, “you’re too cute.”
Adam hopes the large sunglasses he’s wearing are enough to mask the flush that suddenly darts across his cheeks. He’d forgotten how it felt, to receive a compliment not because he looked good in a photo shoot or sang well in a show, but simply because he was Adam. It’s… nice.
Jesse regards his silence, or maybe the faint grin on his mouth. He takes Adam by the wrist and tilts his head to a corner conveniently hidden in the camera’s blindside.
“Whataya say?” He smirks, and Adam doesn’t miss his sneaky little song reference.
Once they are out of sight Jesse pushes him against the wall gently, the lean, long frame of him pressed up against Adam’s front as he dips his head low, making their smiles meet.
Jesse kisses quickly and teasingly, much like he does anything else, and there is no hesitance in his hands as they lift up Adam’s shirt, pull down his zipper. He’s sucking on a sweet spot on Adam’s neck one second and going down on his knees the next, his expression betraying the satisfaction of finally, finally getting to do to Adam everything he’d imagined that first day in the studio.
“Am I still too tall for you?” he asks with that perpetually playful smirk, and Adam laughs breathlessly before he’s rendered breathless by something else entirely.