Once upon a time –a time feeling like it'd happened just last week and at the same time decades past day— I'd called Tommy glittery.
Now that, ladies and gentlemen, was the fucking understatement of the century.

Tommy-fucking-Joe Ratliff was way more then simply 'sparkly'. He was glowing. He was goddamn shining and that still didn't quite cover it. He was mine, of course, but others would surely agree with me.
When he smiled, something he didn't do that often, though on a more regular basis then say, me. When he did, however, something in the air around him changed.

Whether it was a secretive smile; clouding him in clouds of mystery, a tired, but kind one directed at the antics of Cheeks; strongly resembling a mom's (terrifyingly so) or the seductive little smirk that undoubtedly made every cock in the building, especially mine, stir to hardness. It was maddening.
The sated smile of his after-sex glow was one of my favourites, a face I was lucky to have seen quite a few times over the last couple of weeks, but it was more then even the smiles.
For a person as small as he was, though he would deny that fact with fervour (and usually, an endearing stamp of his foot), Tommy had a very terrifying sneer. He would crunch his pretty face up and throw a frighteningly fierce glare at the person who dismayed him. It was like watching a harmless kitten suddenly change into a ferocious tiger.
Or a very large cat with overgrown fangs, if anything.

The sad-look was something else too; a look he would send me when I got too deeply involved with my papers, or closed myself off from him. The look of mock-betrayal when we found each other again after several nights of my absence, but surprisingly; he never held it against me. He let me be.
That's probably what surprised me the most, though there were lots of things that surprised me about Tommy, again and again.
I'd expected him to yell, to be angry, to demand attention, to leave me when things got heavy.
But he never yelled, he'd simply kiss me. He wasn't ever angry, or if he was, it wasn't real anger. He didn't demand attention, he simply got it, it was the natural way of things and through it all, he never left my side when I needed him.

He was too good for me and I knew it, but I couldn't find it in me to leave on my own accord. To give him the freedom to find someone better then me. I just couldn't make myself do it.
I'd go with it for as long as Tommy wanted me.

Yet another surprise, this time within myself; ever since… it –wince— everything I did had happened on my conditions. I was the one that took initiatives, I was the one that gave them what they wanted, that decided what happened, when it happened.
That didn't work for Tommy and just the same he would simply skip off and do whatever the fuck he felt like doing, leaving me standing there. More then once, I was reminded (mostly by him) that he wasn't my possession and neither was I his.
It was confusing, just like he was. In my head –and outside of it, occasionally— I already referred to him as 'mine'.

I wanted him, everything of Tommy's; his body, his mind and his soul. I had stopped wanting anyone else, which was confusing the hell out of everybody.
Getting him, however, was a completely different matter. Trying to take it forcefully had backfired on me and I doubted asking him for it would help me any, since he probably wouldn't understand me either way –the boy was endearingly ignorant to his own appeal—
No, I wanted him to trust me enough to give it to me, willingly. I wanted that mystery, very badly.

Even right now, watching him lazily hang on the group's couch, next to Allison, I couldn't quite figure him out.
And yet all the same I could tell he was only remotely interested in Cheek's and Allison's conversation on how they would dress him tonight (as it was a Saturday-night) going from naughty, to flamer-ish –all cheeks, obviously— to downright weird.
Who even wears petticoats anymore?
I could see he wasn't all to concerned, knowing well enough Cassidy would eventually take charge of the situation, trusting the man's fashion sense and the increased knowledge on what Tommy liked.
He fitted way too well in this picture, his movements, and his voice, his everything way too familiar.
So familiar that it should've scared me right off.

It had been a general rule for me to stop, pull out and leave as soon as things got remotely familiar with anyone, whether physical or mental. But with Tommy, I just wanted more, more and more. It was so different, so completely opposite from what I was used to, because Tommy took the initiative when it came to a lot of things, especially sex, but also with other things. Dragging me along to do all kinds of activities I would have never considered doing before.

Tommy made me feel things I hadn't in a long while, like he'd thrown a bucked of ice-water in my face to wake me up. All the younger man's emotions overflowing my senses and making me feel so much better, so much more alive.

I smiled vaguely from my position at the top of the stairs, gazing down at them.
I swallowed, having found myself alone this morning, with just the cell phone and my business-calls to keep me company.
Believe me when I say the voices of obnoxious entrepreneurs aren't the most pleasurable ones to wake up to, but Tommy seemed to be in one of his 'fuck you' moods again, so there was definitely no chance of waking up to his face, or his voice.
Not even a morning quickie. Damn him.

But I smiled nonetheless. Taking a deep breath and gulping away the morning-bile in my mouth.
My gaze travelled from Tommy, to Cassidy, who was just as amusedly watching the bicker between brat Brad and Allison, our beloved wicked witch. His stance more mockingly entertained then Tommy's amusement.
I knew that only a year ago, I would have probably done the same. That stung.
I watched Kris, unaffected as always; thread his fingers through Katy's hair.
I still had respect for the woman, the only one ever having succeeded in interesting him.

My boots thudded on the expensive wood of the stairs as I slowly descended it, my nails scratching over the railing and my movements suddenly hesitant. I felt the control slip, I felt the perfection fade away as I fell back into what I'd been.
This was my group, these were my people, but were they still the friends they'd been, once upon a time?

I ran my hand through my hair, feeling it slick. I should've washed it. It wasn't like me to forget, but things like that happened more often now. I wasn't sure if I liked it.

"You can not be serious, who combines red with blue anymore? That's just wrong…" Allison huffed at Cheeks, who carried a thoughtful expression behind his bright red glasses.

"Maybe you're right," he gave, still unaware of my presence, wiggling his toes in his checkered shoes, "but we should have a colour-styled-plan for him," he eventually decided. His index finger resting on his chin as he cocked his head towards Allison for confirmation.

Allison nodded, her eyes excited, "how 'bout purple? That's a combination of red and blue!"

Cassidy rolled his eyes with a tired sigh, amusedly squinting at Cheeks, who was seated next to him, his legs drawn up, his face all excited where it rested on his knees. He looked so childish right now, so young and innocent I had to fight the urge to run; to stay far away in fear of ruining that.

Allison looked carefree, so different from how she was in the club. She wasn't faking, I knew that, but she showed a different side of herself down here.
A side I didn't know, maybe because I never let myself.

Tommy surprised me, again, stretched out luxuriously over the greater part of the couch, his feet in Allison's lap. He looked content, his shirt riding up to reveal pale skin. Tattooed arms supporting his head on the edge of the leather couch.
Like he belonged here, giving the puzzle a new, refreshing picture.

"Adam," Katy suddenly breathed, her hair messy and weird-looking because Kris's frozen hands were still curled in it.
Everyone immediately turned towards where I stood, their eyes, brown, blue or otherwise fixed on my face.

I didn't know exactly what expression graced it, but it must've been different from what they were used of me.

"Is there something you want, Adam?" Cheeks questioned with a small voice, as if scared that wasn't the case.
"You need us to do something?" Kris, ever practical, nuanced the question.

I shook my head, feeling the bangs hit my face with dry thumps, "No," I said, "I just— I was wondering if I could… join you. Maybe."
Wrong, it was all wrong; my voice was too desperate, to wanting to be a part of the pretty picture.

"Err… Sure?" Allison and Katy shared a glance, before Cheeks rose from his seat besides Cassidy, basically my second in command, to the couch, where Tommy had already made room for him, almost naturally adapting to the new situation.

It was weird, as I strode through the room I'd personally designed for my employees. It was even weirder to walk towards my friends.
The silence was awkward when I sat down, not knowing what to say and just leaning back. I wouldn't avert my eyes, my pride wouldn't let me, but the others wouldn't look at me either.
With the exception of Tommy and Allison of course, who were both smiling and frowning at me.
Kris had continued his hair-ministrations.

"Feel free to continue your previous conversation," I nearly ordered. I mean— I was still the boss, right?
Tommy squinted at me and I suddenly noticed the silent conversation Cassidy and Cheeks were having beside me. Allison looked positively flustered now, even her courageous gaze averting from me.

This was wrong, this was all wrong. This isn't how it is supposed to be!

"I, err... think purple's fine. Fer totes," Cheeks murmured to the red-head next to him, who only nodded. Katy send a glance towards Cassidy, Allison kicking at Tommy, who was the only one remotely comfortable, though he shifted with the tension in the air.
I was making them uncomfortable. I was interfering with the picture.

"Okay, I get it," I stopped Allison, who opened her mouth and quickly snapped it shut when I talked.

I stood up, held my back straight in all my tall glory and strode back to the stairs.

All the while chanting; this was a bad idea. I didn't fit there anymore…

"Adam!" A voice behind me called as I hurried through the corridor, back to the main floor, "Adam, c'mon, wait up. My legs aren't as long as yours!"

I was quickly tackled by the lithe (but surprisingly strong) body of my glitterbaby, his arms holding on to my shoulders while his legs locked around my hips.
"Gotcha," he said and bit softly into the exposed skin of my collarbone, whispering his concern against it, "What happened in there?"

"I do not want to talk about it," I replied coldly, feeling him drop of my back in an instant, confusion in a radius around him.

"They're just surprised, you know?" Tommy suddenly said, "Give them a break."

I whipped around, staring at Tommy with narrowed eyes, taking in his crossed arms and annoyed expression. Once more, he wasn't angry, just sending 'fuck you' vibes.
This suddenly irritated me.

"What do you mean, give them a break?" I hissed, "it's not like they give a damn. It's not like I give a shitfuck about it."

"You can't expect them not to be surprised when you suddenly show up after god knows how long. They're just taken back the big bad boss suddenly changed back to their friend," Tommy's voice was softer now, like he was talking to a wounded animal about to lunge for his throat, "And you do care! That was you out there," he pointed accusingly towards the staircase, "because that wasn't some kind of mask you were putting up, that was you, wanting your friends back!"

I just stared at him, feeling my mask crumble beneath my fingers as I desperately tried to hold onto it, but once again Tommy had proven his ability to get underneath my skin, to work me up with just a few words, enough to break me.
His words hurt, but they weren't meant to wound. They were honest and in fact dead on with what had happened.
What Tommy said was not what I wanted to hear.

"I don't need them, they work for me and that's all I want from them," I spat at Tommy, "they're supposed to be pretty, pleasurable and perfect and that's all they are to me."

I turned around, painfully aware of what I'd said. I really despised myself at this moment.
I didn't blame them for their distaste of me; I was weak, I was a failure. They had no reason to be remotely nice to me, of course they hadn't.

I strode off, towards the door that would lead me to the main area of Club Glam, to the strobe-lights, stripper-poles and the sex-atmosphere.

Hadn't I been mean to them? Hadn't I banned them from my life, from my head? Hadn't I ripped them away from my soul, which they'd once been so tightly entwined with?
I'd hurt them, used them and I deserved all the hate they held.
I could live with that, it was the image I'd been going for. The mask to protect me from all the hurt love brought. Maybe it'd been unconscious at first, but it deliberate now. And god fucking damn it if it made me unhappy.

"They still love you, you know," said Tommy and I froze in my step, "through it all, they never stopped loving you."

I slowly turned around, not sure if I was prepared for the sight, a sight equally breath-takingly beautiful and heart-breakingly sad.

A glistering tear was slowly making its way over Tommy's cheek and the glitters in his eyes had dimmed to near extinction. He was staring at me through his lashes, almost pleading for me to solve some kind of inner-conflict.

"You've been through so much; they understand that, they just want the best for you. They want you back as the person they once knew, Adam!" He said, visibly trying to suppress the hitch in his voice, "They just want their friend back."

"Tommy—" I nearly wanted to tell him to stop, to stop lying, but I knew he was telling the truth. I knew that one streak of a tear was the truth and I couldn't help but walk back, feeling rather then telling myself to wrap my arms around him, pulling him flush to my body, until he struggled against me.

"– I can see him, you know?" Tommy muttered in my shoulder, "sometimes, when your guard is down. You don't have to be like this, you don't have to hurt yourself like this to earn respect, to be safe. They stayed, didn't they? They'll be here for you. I'll be here for you."

I pulled away from the hug, staring at Tommy's face, wiping the tear away with the pad of my thumb. Tommy's face was ghostly pale in the low lighting, but as beautiful as he was the first night I saw him.
But now, unlike that evening, when I'd only seen the body, the potential fuck, I saw Tommy. My Tommy.

I felt a fire creep through my veins, warming me deeper and more thorough then I'd been in a long while.
Before I knew it, my arms were full of bassist again and I pressed my lips against his, shivering as his arms wrapped around me.
It was like the flame was suddenly fuelled with gasoline, as it burned through my chest, making me feel so alive. Like I could burst out singing any minute. Like I could dance and be free like I used to be. Like everything was possible.

Like Drake never happened.

I licked open Tommy's lips and tasted his mouth, licking along his teeth and feeling him suck on my tongue, and the taste of him was divine.

His fingers tangled with mine, our kiss slow and loving, very much unlike the usual pulling and tugging. We gave rather then took and somehow, it felt right like this. There was no need for aggression, no urge to dominate.

I let him pull me along, back to the apartment he'd all but moved into over the last couple of weeks, back to the bed the both of us knew by heart. I allowed him to undress me, returning the favour with slow tenderness, exploring his body, savouring it as I let the moans spilling from his lips fill me with pride. I made Tommy sing like that, just for me.
I didn't struggle when he took lead, when he once more topped from the bottom, though today I felt more like equals then anything as he rode me, my tongue lavishing his long, sensitive neck.

I pushed up into him with long, drawn-out, passionate thrusts of my hips and he moved with me at an equal pace; with slow and agonisingly sensual movements of his hips.
One of my arms around his waist, the other buried in his bangs, I supported him as he rose and fell, trying to make it so good for him, like he made feel.
His heat was incredible, so hot I was sure I'd burn myself and the soft sighs and panted moans drove me crazy, but we kept up the leisurely pace, my own moans and groans mingling with his.

A faint layer of sweat coated both our bodies, our tongues tangling, swallowing the other's moans. Pleasure waving the air between us, tying us tighter together then we'd been.
I was pretty sure I was hitting his spot quite accurately and I wasn't surprised to feel him speed up after what felt like hours of pleasurable thrusts, caresses and kisses.
His breath was laboured now, my own nearly inaudible, gasping whenever his muscles contracted around me, control was nonexistent today and somewhere along the line we both became nonexistent; there was no Adam Lambert, glamorous owner of club-glam, there was no Tommy Joe Ratliff, beauty and bassist, friend to so many. We forgot ourselves, focussing only on the throes of passion between us, the building in our stomachs, the other's touch, the other's sounds, the other's soul.

We made love to each other that night, love like I hadn't felt it before.

My climax, his following close after, or maybe earlier, I was unable to tell, was toe-curling and more intense then any orgasm I'd had till date. Tommy's face, the ecstasy written on it; his eyes closed and bruised lips open was magnificent, almost sending me into a second, after the first one finally succumbed.

We once again fell asleep in each other's arms. This had happened before, but today it felt different, better. Because today I'd decided I wanted to change, for Tommy. Maybe even a little for myself.
I wanted to be worth him, be that man he saw within me and wanted.

Tommy woke up to the sound of the radio the next morning, the sound of one of my many, forgotten CD's that marked the time before Drake. –wince—
I had a long way to go. But I would try.

I was listening to music again; it was a start.

A/n: Happiness! *wipes away tear* Now wasn't that pretty? (even though the update for this is far from pretty, I'm sorry, I don't have an excuse for the lateness… *is ashamed*)
Anyone familiar with my sadistic tendencies will probably have a good guess on the direction this fic is about to go.
*evil face* Yeah, it has to happen and you know it.
Oh and if you get a chance, thank KradamKrazy for bullying… I mean, kindly steering me into writing.
Leave a review on your way out, spread the love!