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bantha_fodderthe lights just in sight by pen
adam lambert rpf / the pretender, Adam Lambert, PG (language and stuff).
This is a birthday present for my darling![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mandysbitch.
Thanks OR SOMETHING for the idea goes to Pieces of, who laughed but enables my most amazing crossovers. And SOMETHING to Sloane.
I'M NOT SURE WHAT THIS IS, OKAY. There is some time mushing to make everyone more of the same age-ish.
NONE OF THIS HAPPENED
**
Adam steps offstage, the reverb ringing in his ears. He grabs at a bottle of water, wipes his face down. Thinks about his wobbly legs, but whatever, he's not that ancient.
"Hey Adam," one of his roadies yells. "You heading out?"
Adam raises a hand to the ceiling. Of course he is.
As he steps into the cold air, there is a flash of camera light in the distance, but that's nothing unusual. What is unusual are the suits around the corner, and if he didn't know better he'd say someone got him some bodyguards, or called in the FBI.
He knows better.
He waves to the fans, gets in a different taxi.
**
He rocks in to the stadium, throws his gear down on the couch. He looks up as one of his people enters.
"Oh, hey Jarod," Adam says, and pauses. He blinks. "Dude, you're not one of my people."
"Sure I am," Jarod replies. "How else could I get close enough to you?" He grins.
"Close enough, huh?" Adam winks.
Jarod raises an eyebrow, blows a kiss.
An adventure. Excellent. Adam loves this shit.
**
"The Centre knows where you are," Jarod says. Adam rolls his eyes.
"Of course they know where I am, I'm a fucking star!"
"Why are you risking yourself like this?" Jarod asks. "Touring, dates, a fucking Twitter page? They could be waiting for you anywhere!"
Adam shakes his head. He can't believe Jarod really doesn't get it. "There's nothing they can do while I'm big, J. I'm no good to them while I'm a star. They're not coming for me in the night."
"They can torpedo you! A well-placed rumour or a great stock option, then what happens to your stardom?"
"That's not how it works, J."
"Adam," Jarod leans forward. "They'll find a way."
"Jarod," Adam leans forward, and brushes his lips against Jarod's ear. "Trust me. I'm better at this game then they are. I know who my investors are."
Jarod shivers.
**
Pretenders get turned on by the weirdest things. You'd think Adam would have remembered that.
Maybe he's been out for too long.
**
Jarod turns his head, the sharp line of his jaw in sudden relief under the stage lights. He remembers the day Jarod escaped, the lock down and the sirens and Jarod's silhouette as he darted past Adam's door.
He remembers the sudden silence, and the lies.
**
Yeah, right. He doesn't miss that shit, not for a second.
The glitter and the lights are a lot better.
**
They stagger back to the hotel, and the scent of Jarod's aftershave is fucking amazing. Adam thinks about licking his skin, wrapping his hands around Jarod's waist and Jarod's cock and oh yes please, he thinks, when Jarod pulls off his sweater and there's an awesome tank top underneath.
"J," he says. "You've been out for a while now."
Jarod looks at him, those big dark eyes. "Six years and three months."
"Mmm," he says. "And did you miss me?"
"Of course."
Adam runs a hand along Jarod's bare arm. "Want to be close again?" He raises an eyebrow.
Jarod laughs. "Let's get you to bed." A beat. "Not like that." What a noble man.
Adam pouts, but whatever. Still worth the shot.
**
"You weren't like this before, when you were in the Centre," Jarod says, in a quiet moment.
"J," Adam replies. "None of us were. The Centre didn't want to see us like this, so they didn't."
He looks up, meets Jarod's eyes. "It's good to be out, J. There's a whole world to explore, and it's time to pick your own life."
"I'm doing that," Jarod says.
Adam raises an eyebrow. "Sure, okay. If that's what you call this."
**
He loves the flashing lights. It helps him know where everyone is.
**
He steps backstage, sweating. He thinks about a shower, and looks in the mirror. His skin glistens and his makeup looks just fine, the glitter a fine sheen across his face. Sniffs under his arm, decides he'll probably be just fine. "Let's hit the town," he says, and Jarod rolls his eyes.
"We've got to get you home, young man," he says, and steps through the door.
Before Adam can pass through, he hears a voice yell "Jarod," and he turns. Parker looking fucking amazing, long legs and a tiny skirt and is that liquid eyeliner?
"Parker, you're fantastic. I love the satin shirt. Who's doing your makeup?"
She shakes her head, gives a little tilt and a little shit-eating grin. "Adam, you've been looking trashy on television."
He grins back at her. "It's what I'm here for."
She grins wider than before. "Well, now you're both here for me to take home."
"Parker," he says. "I knew you always wanted both of us, and I don't mean to break your heart, but I just don't think I'm into pussy anymore."
She frowns at him, and Jarod pulls him through the door; doesn't even need to hiss run before they're running out the stage door and diving into the waiting car.
"You see what you've done?" Jarod asks. "Now will you listen to me?"
Adam sits back in his seat, settles himself. Jarod is puffed, and fuck does he look hot with the faint sheen of sweat across his skin. "I've done nothing but be amazing. What can the Centre do to me now that I'm famous?"
"Don't be naive. You've been out for too long. They can do anything, Adam, you know that."
"They can't do anything but wait, Jarod. And better them than me."
"This is ridiculous."
Adam grins, and in the moonlight, he knows he looks lovely. "The only thing that's ridiculous is that you won't make out with me."
"Adam." Jarod looks pained. Uncomfortable. How ridiculous. Could Adam be wrong? Is Jarod -
"J, are you hooking up with Parker?"
"No," replies Jarod, but Adam knows that look.
"Well, fuck me," he says, and Jarod frowns.
What a fucking waste.
**
Jarod disappears without saying goodbye, and Adam cares, but seriously.
When is he going to learn that running is never the answer?
**
He steps on stage, and the lights are bright.
Nothing they can do but a bullet, and he's ready for that.
**
He sings. Really fucking loudly.
END
adam lambert rpf / the pretender, Adam Lambert, PG (language and stuff).
This is a birthday present for my darling
mandysbitch. Thanks OR SOMETHING for the idea goes to Pieces of, who laughed but enables my most amazing crossovers. And SOMETHING to Sloane.
I'M NOT SURE WHAT THIS IS, OKAY. There is some time mushing to make everyone more of the same age-ish.
NONE OF THIS HAPPENED
**
Adam steps offstage, the reverb ringing in his ears. He grabs at a bottle of water, wipes his face down. Thinks about his wobbly legs, but whatever, he's not that ancient.
"Hey Adam," one of his roadies yells. "You heading out?"
Adam raises a hand to the ceiling. Of course he is.
As he steps into the cold air, there is a flash of camera light in the distance, but that's nothing unusual. What is unusual are the suits around the corner, and if he didn't know better he'd say someone got him some bodyguards, or called in the FBI.
He knows better.
He waves to the fans, gets in a different taxi.
**
He rocks in to the stadium, throws his gear down on the couch. He looks up as one of his people enters.
"Oh, hey Jarod," Adam says, and pauses. He blinks. "Dude, you're not one of my people."
"Sure I am," Jarod replies. "How else could I get close enough to you?" He grins.
"Close enough, huh?" Adam winks.
Jarod raises an eyebrow, blows a kiss.
An adventure. Excellent. Adam loves this shit.
**
"The Centre knows where you are," Jarod says. Adam rolls his eyes.
"Of course they know where I am, I'm a fucking star!"
"Why are you risking yourself like this?" Jarod asks. "Touring, dates, a fucking Twitter page? They could be waiting for you anywhere!"
Adam shakes his head. He can't believe Jarod really doesn't get it. "There's nothing they can do while I'm big, J. I'm no good to them while I'm a star. They're not coming for me in the night."
"They can torpedo you! A well-placed rumour or a great stock option, then what happens to your stardom?"
"That's not how it works, J."
"Adam," Jarod leans forward. "They'll find a way."
"Jarod," Adam leans forward, and brushes his lips against Jarod's ear. "Trust me. I'm better at this game then they are. I know who my investors are."
Jarod shivers.
**
Pretenders get turned on by the weirdest things. You'd think Adam would have remembered that.
Maybe he's been out for too long.
**
Jarod turns his head, the sharp line of his jaw in sudden relief under the stage lights. He remembers the day Jarod escaped, the lock down and the sirens and Jarod's silhouette as he darted past Adam's door.
He remembers the sudden silence, and the lies.
**
Yeah, right. He doesn't miss that shit, not for a second.
The glitter and the lights are a lot better.
**
They stagger back to the hotel, and the scent of Jarod's aftershave is fucking amazing. Adam thinks about licking his skin, wrapping his hands around Jarod's waist and Jarod's cock and oh yes please, he thinks, when Jarod pulls off his sweater and there's an awesome tank top underneath.
"J," he says. "You've been out for a while now."
Jarod looks at him, those big dark eyes. "Six years and three months."
"Mmm," he says. "And did you miss me?"
"Of course."
Adam runs a hand along Jarod's bare arm. "Want to be close again?" He raises an eyebrow.
Jarod laughs. "Let's get you to bed." A beat. "Not like that." What a noble man.
Adam pouts, but whatever. Still worth the shot.
**
"You weren't like this before, when you were in the Centre," Jarod says, in a quiet moment.
"J," Adam replies. "None of us were. The Centre didn't want to see us like this, so they didn't."
He looks up, meets Jarod's eyes. "It's good to be out, J. There's a whole world to explore, and it's time to pick your own life."
"I'm doing that," Jarod says.
Adam raises an eyebrow. "Sure, okay. If that's what you call this."
**
He loves the flashing lights. It helps him know where everyone is.
**
He steps backstage, sweating. He thinks about a shower, and looks in the mirror. His skin glistens and his makeup looks just fine, the glitter a fine sheen across his face. Sniffs under his arm, decides he'll probably be just fine. "Let's hit the town," he says, and Jarod rolls his eyes.
"We've got to get you home, young man," he says, and steps through the door.
Before Adam can pass through, he hears a voice yell "Jarod," and he turns. Parker looking fucking amazing, long legs and a tiny skirt and is that liquid eyeliner?
"Parker, you're fantastic. I love the satin shirt. Who's doing your makeup?"
She shakes her head, gives a little tilt and a little shit-eating grin. "Adam, you've been looking trashy on television."
He grins back at her. "It's what I'm here for."
She grins wider than before. "Well, now you're both here for me to take home."
"Parker," he says. "I knew you always wanted both of us, and I don't mean to break your heart, but I just don't think I'm into pussy anymore."
She frowns at him, and Jarod pulls him through the door; doesn't even need to hiss run before they're running out the stage door and diving into the waiting car.
"You see what you've done?" Jarod asks. "Now will you listen to me?"
Adam sits back in his seat, settles himself. Jarod is puffed, and fuck does he look hot with the faint sheen of sweat across his skin. "I've done nothing but be amazing. What can the Centre do to me now that I'm famous?"
"Don't be naive. You've been out for too long. They can do anything, Adam, you know that."
"They can't do anything but wait, Jarod. And better them than me."
"This is ridiculous."
Adam grins, and in the moonlight, he knows he looks lovely. "The only thing that's ridiculous is that you won't make out with me."
"Adam." Jarod looks pained. Uncomfortable. How ridiculous. Could Adam be wrong? Is Jarod -
"J, are you hooking up with Parker?"
"No," replies Jarod, but Adam knows that look.
"Well, fuck me," he says, and Jarod frowns.
What a fucking waste.
**
Jarod disappears without saying goodbye, and Adam cares, but seriously.
When is he going to learn that running is never the answer?
**
He steps on stage, and the lights are bright.
Nothing they can do but a bullet, and he's ready for that.
**
He sings. Really fucking loudly.
END
