HELLO, THIS IS MY FIRST CHAPTER STORY DEALING WITH TOMMY AND ADAM.

I HATE USING THE "F-WORD" AGAINST GAY PEOPLE, BUT IT ADDS SOME...INTENSITY TO THE STORY.

I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY IT. I'M GOING TO BE ADDING SOME CHAPTERS SOON, AND THIS IS THE ONLY INTORDUCTION I'LL BE DOING.

JUST TRYING TO INTRODUCE YOU TO THE STORY!

ALRIGHT, NOW READ!


"This is ridiculous! How far away is San Francisco from Portland?" Adam Mitchell Lambert groaned, kicking his legs in the air and slowly resting them on Tommy's head who was just sitting in front of him. Of, course though, Tommy was use to Adam's slick legs being placed neatly on his blonde hair. And truth be told he kind of enjoyed the weight.

"You're being impatient!" Monte said, sitting on the couch next to Adam and turning on the TV.

"I'm not being impatient; I just want to get out of Oregon. It's too cold. And we're going to the GAY capital of the world! San Francisco!" the brunette sang, grinning. Although he did enjoy the rain in Oregon, and just lying in the bed with a nice book, if he had any chance of going to California and one of his favorite cities in the world, he would gladly go there instead of being caught in the rain.

But there was one thing the singer really wanted, more than anything in the world. To be kissed passionately in the rain. That's all he really wanted, and nothing more. It was a secret fantasy, that one day, Adam hoped to turn into reality. Little did Adam know, but he was day dreaming and was snapped harshly back into the real world when the small bassist, Tommy Joe Ratliff, stood up and yawned, looking at Adam.

"I'm going to bed. Maybe you could get an ottoman?" he asked, taking off his shirt and jumping into his bottom bunk that he shared with Adam.

He whined, "You ARE my ottoman!" his oceanic blue eyes watched Tommy as he settled into bed and closed the curtain, shutting himself from the world, and from Adam.

With a heavy and discomforting sigh, the singer got up and stripped down to his boxers, jumping onto the top bunk, and repeating Tommy's actions.

The next day the band had finally arrived in one of Adam's top five cities: San Francisco.

"WOO! Let's get this party going!" Adam yelled, getting into a black wife beater, skinny jeans and his YSL gold boots. He practically jumped out of the tour bus and gazed around the beautiful scenery that makes up the best city ever.

Everyone went their separate ways. Lisa went shopping, Longineu just wandered around, not really caring, and Monte…he just went off being Monte. Tommy and Adam on the other hand decided to go shopping at Hot Topic and Spencer's.

"Do you like these on me?" Tommy asked, showing Adam a pair of skull earrings he found.

"Glitterbaby, those are hot. You'll have any girl go after you with those babes on," Adam replied, intently looking at the earrings.

Much to Tommy's surprised, he blushed. "Thanks, I think I'll get them then. If you like them," he said. He didn't exactly know why he was blushing. Was he shy? No, not around Adam. He was most comfortable around the laid-back, cool, calm, fun, sexy…Wait? Sexy? Mentally, Tommy shook his head, ridding himself of the foreign thoughts he only felt towards women, because as far he knows, he's as straight as a ruler.

"Come to the dressing rooms with me, I wanna try on these pants!" Adam exclaimed, breaking Tommy from his denial about Adam.

"Oh, sure." he murmured, following the singer to the dressing rooms. He waited outside the door and moments later, the door opened, revealing Adam in tight pants that hugged his entire bottom half. The unwelcome blush returned and tainted Tommy's pale cheeks. "Whoa…"

"What?" Adam asked, looking behind him, thinking that Tommy was looking at a cute girl. When he found no one else in the dressing area, he looked back at Tommy and followed his eyes. They led straight to his crotch. "Oh, whoops. Didn't notice that…" Adam finally said, blushing slightly at the giant bulge that exerted from his leather pants.

"Yea, maybe those aren't the best pants," Tommy chuckled, "You'll make straight guys turn gay with those pants!"

With a heavy sigh, the singer changed out of his beloved pants and returned to his other skinny jeans, walking out of the room, and hanging the discouraging pants on the shelf once again. "I really like those. But I'm too fat to fit in them! They make my legs look huge!"

"N-No they don't! It's not your legs that are huge, it's your-" Tommy stopped himself and composed his sentence to make it sound less…non-straight. "The pants are just too tight."

Adam blushed again and took one last glance at the pants. "Let me buy those earrings for you. You did save me from go out in the public looking like a total whore. The least I can do is pay for your earrings?" he asked, patting the bassist's small head.

"Babyboy, I'll pay for them. And you would not be a whore! You'd just attract a lot more girls to you, and you know I don't want that!"

"Why wouldn't you want it? That just means more girls for you to meet…" Adam said hastily, raising a skeptical eyebrow at the no panicked blond.

'Oh, no! Did I really just say that? What's wrong with me? Why am I suddenly nervous around him? Why can't I think straight when I'm around him? And why do I secretly wish he got those tight pants so I could stare at his manly-hood?' All these indecisive questions ran through poor Tommy's head. "I-I have to go…" he quickly said, pacing himself outside the mall.

The singers' eyes suddenly became gloomy as he watched his secret crush leave. What was up with him? Was he sick?

With another heavy sigh, Adam paid for Tommy's earrings and left the mall as well, wandering the lone streets of San Fran. They arrived here at about 6:30PM, and he and Tommy had been at the mall for a good hour, making it 7:30PM.

The brunette shoved his hands in his pockets and continued walking, his coat tails fluttering in a slight breeze. Their next performance was in two days, so that gave Adam minimal time to get Tommy back to normal.

"Hey, faggot. Where do you think you're going?" a venomous voice dripped from behind Adam.

He turned around and saw a group of men, three to be exact, only a couple yards away from him. The one that spoke was quite large, 6'6"? He had shaggy hair that was pulled back in an unkempt ponytail. He seemed to have red eyes as they glowed in the darkness illuminating them.

The other two were hard to make out, but they too, were larger than Adam, both weight and height.

"You're that famous faggot singer, aren't you?" the leader asked. The word "faggot", brought terrible memories to Adam. He loathed that word so much.

"Adam Lambert. The rich fag. You got any money on you?" he asked, taking a step closer. Adam only took a step back. He didn't have anything to defend himself with. All he had were his combat boots, but what good would they do? Only a kick in the stomach; and that would aggravate them more.

His sparkling blue eyes darted around and he realized that no one was around.

"Just give me your money, and we'll be done with you."

'Give him my money? Oh, HELL no! I'm Adam Freaking Lambert, and I will not be mugged!'

"Why don't you come and take it from me?" he asked.

This made the leader and his goons angrier as they charged at him. Adam knew he couldn't fight them off, but he could at least try.

Quickly, he shoved Tommy's earrings in his pocket, zipped it up and stared straight ahead. The leader took a swing at him first, nailing Adam right in the jaw. However, this didn't stop the singer from using his large combat boot to immediately kick him in the stomach. As the red-eyed man kneeled over, the right hand man took Adam's shoulder and threw him against a wall. A pop noise was heard and the brunette could feel that his shoulder had been dislocated. He got back up and with his good arm, punched the guy straight in the face and as he was about to punch him again, the third guy took both of Adams' arms and put them behind his back. He yelped in pain as his shoulder pulsed with pure torture. The leader got in front of Adam and repeatedly hit him in the stomach and kept hitting him. They soon grabbed everything Adam had, including Tommy's earrings and ran away, leaving the singer sliding down the wall, unable to move. He was sure he had a couple broken ribs and a broken arm.

It began to rain, drenching poor Adam, but he still didn't move. Instead his oceanic eyes closed slowly, and he fell into nothing but blackness and throbbing agony.