Coup de Foudre - Part 4

[eaivalefay]

Coup de Foudre - Part 4


“So, like, were you two gonna get married?” Allison was propped on the edge of the bus sofa, elbows on knees, chin resting in the palm of one hand.

It was nine hours later, after the Columbus show and everyone was piled on buses as they rolled toward their next destination. Adam couldn’t quite remember where. All the places were blurring together at this point. He thought the state started with an m. Minnesota maybe. Or Michigan. Wherever they were heading, Allison had sprung out of nowhere only two hours earlier, as Adam headed out toward the fans, dragging him off to the side and telling him she was going to ambush and interrogate Harry, a la his promise to her.

“I’m too wired to sleep, man,” Allison informed him. “And he promised to spill it about his girlfriend. Can’t let this moment slip by.”

“Tonight?” Adam pouted. “I wanted to be there for that, he gets so squirmy—”

“Okay, I don’t need to know about your sex lives,” Allison said, poking him in the stomach before he could swat her hand away.

“Cute.”

“I’m giving my big bro a heads up. If you can work it, get your ass on my bus.” She winked at him before she continued on her way toward the barricades herself.

Adam had known he’d have to work fast. It was all he could do to convince the drivers Allison had to ride with them for the PS3 gaming marathon they were going on. No one kicked ass at Grand Theft Auto like she did. He wasn’t remotely surprised at the way she’d rolled with that announcement. What threw him off balance was how she still managed to sneak Harry on, without Harry or anyone else seeming to notice. Harry was just there, on the bus as it left the arena. He’d looked vaguely surprised, but unperturbed as Allison dragged him over to one of the sofas. Adam was definitely grilling her on that later. Knowing how to pull that trick would come in handy, he was sure. For now, he was just happy to be squished onto one bus with two too many people, rushing toward... Montana. Massachusetts. Somewhere.

“Are people slipping you liquor?” Harry arched an eyebrow, settled comfortably on the opposite couch with one leg drawn up to his chest, arm curled around his knee. He glanced down at her bottle of soda pointedly.

Allison picked up the bottle, took a long swig and then tucked it behind her. “Nope. That’d be wrong.”

Adam snorted. He lay sprawled beside Allison. His head rested against the armrest, his feet propped against the couch inches from Allison’s leg. “You know our Allicat would never break the rules like that.”

Kris strolled into the room from the small kitchenette in the front, glanced around, and then wedged himself between Harry and Matt, who had taken up residence on the other edge of the sofa. “Alli wouldn’t break what rule again?”

“The good behavior while remaining a minor rule,” Matt grinned, tilting his beer bottle in her direction in salute before taking a swallow.

Allison gave him the finger. “Besides my mom is just on the other bus.”

“Yes, conveniently not here,” Harry said.

“You haven’t answered the question, babe,” Adam said, taking the heat of his little sister, who he was totally looking out for, thank-you, and smirked as the others refocused on the question. He twisted his own beer in his fingers. “Something about marriage.”

“Hey, yeah!” Allison narrowed her eyes. “You’re not changing the subject are you? Reneging on a promise?”

Kris chuckled even as Matt straightened up. “I forgot we’re getting to play twenty questions.”

“I only promised Allison, I recall.” Harry shook his head, “And me and Ginny got as far as the altar before we figured it all out and called everything off.”

“…that’s last minute,” Allison said.

Adam stared at Harry. “So… What happened?” Somehow he couldn’t picture the guy he’d marked off as ‘his,’ or, okay, ‘work in progress, but eventually his’ as ever being straight. He really couldn’t see it. He knew some guys knew they were gay, others lived in denial for fucking eternity, and most worked it out around high-school. But he’d had Harry pegged as the first.

He shrugged one shoulder. “The priest asked if she would take me as her husband, the whole spiel, Gin said no.”

“Ouch,” Matt winced. “That must’ve hurt.”

Harry laughed, “Not as much as you would think. I think my exact response was, ‘oh, thank god.’”

Kris snorted, Adam laughed outright, and Allison was stuffing her fist in her mouth to suppress her giggles. Oh yeah, Allicat was not hiding her liquor very well. Adam made a note to cut her off.

Matt’s eyebrow quirked up, “Then why did you two get engaged in the first place?”

Harry shrugged once more. “Expectation? Everyone thought we would, so we tried. Funny thing is, if she hadn’t said no, I probably would have married her.”

“Because people wanted you to,” Adam said. He didn’t even know what to say. He never liked it when people did something for the sake of others’ expectations.

Harry met Adam’s disbelieving gaze squarely. “I loved her.”

“But?” Danny’s head popped out from one of the bunk beds. “Sorry, it’s kinda hard to tune you guys out, headphones and all.”

“You really want to know?” Harry asked. “It was, to be honest, easy. Marrying Gin was easy, and a life with her would probably have been easy too. I loved her, and I never thought about what I wanted, and everyone made getting married the easiest option for me or her to pick.”

“That’s the stupidest,” Adam started, irritated beyond words. Allison’s fingers dug into his leg and Adam’s jaw snapped shut. From the annoyed look on Alli’s face he suspected he wasn’t helping his odds with landing Harry.

Harry’s mouth twisted wryly, “Yeah, it was stupid. Ginny, bless, worked that out in time.”

“And you weren’t upset?” Kris asked. “If Katy had said that to me…”

Adam and Matt both broke into hysterics. “Are you confessing something, man?” Matt asked.

Kris’s eyes widened into saucers, “Um.”

Harry said, “You’re in love with Katy. Big difference. Gin and I weren’t upset, more relieved we hadn’t gone through with it. Even me. A mutual friend dragged us off to a private room, sat us down and made us explain ourselves. Talked it all out a good two hours. When we came back out, the reception was going on.”

“So everyone got to part-ay. All in all, a good day then?” Allison beamed.

Harry snorted, “No-o. The reception was going on, but Gin’s mother… Her wrath still gives me nightmares. Always wanted me as a son-in-law. And everyone else, well… It was all gossip through the grapevine and cameras flashing in our faces.”

“Sounds like every family reunion I’ve been dragged to,” Matt nodded sagely. “Drama about who ate the last danish, who said what about whoever the last time we were all together, that sort of thing.”

Kris shook his head, “Family’s there for support and love,” He said determinedly. “Weddings and reunions aren’t about the drama.”

“Families are all about the drama.” Adam laughed, “But love and support too.”

“Seconded,” Danny’s fingers waved from his bed.

“That’s my point,” Kris said, grinning in his direction.

Allison nodded, “still, you haven’t seen my auntie Lori.” She turned to Harry, “Drama with support, right?”

Harry blinked. His head tilted slightly to the side. “I…don’t know, not really. My friends were always supportive, even when I told them I was moving away, out of touch. Gin and ‘Mione especially. My family was different.”

It was clear everyone focused in on that right off, like a tank of piranhas smelling the blood in the water.

Adam frowned slightly. He fiddled with his bottle. “What do you mean exactly?”

“Family’s usually supportive,” Kris said. “Even when they hide it or get pissed.”

Harry snorted, “I’m sorry, Kris, but that’s a healthy family, not an unhealthy one.”

“But,” Matt began.

“Not all families are good ones.” Harry tried to cover his frustration by playing with his drink. Adam was focused in on Harry’s face, the exasperation and reluctance. Yeah, Harry had issues when it came to talking about himself. “I know it’s easy to forget when your family’s accepting, but sometimes you’re all a bit naïve. I’m glad you are. I mean, it’s good you have support. But families aren’t always nice.”

Adam actually sat up. His piercing gaze settled firmly on Harry. “Abusive, you mean?” He was thinking that explained a fucking lot, as it happened. The privacy, the touchiness, the cynicism. He tried to recall all the signs of a victim of abuse.

Harry blinked rapidly. “No-o, not abusive. Not really. Just not caring.” There was the half shrug again. “There’s never been love gained or lost where my relatives are concerned.”

“Shit, that sucks,” Matt said, which summed it up, Adam thought.

Adam tried to relax, but it niggled it at him. “You’re sure—”

“That I wasn’t abused?” Harry smiled, “Yeah, I’m sure, Adam. Life’s just unfriendly sometimes.”

“Family’s important,” Kris started, a put-out frown marring his face.

Allison was staring morosely at Harry’s knees. “Anyone got any happier things?”

Adam pounced, because he had been waiting on this all day, wanting to bring it up, and he wasn’t adverse to changing the subject to something that didn’t make Harry look so unhappy. He could always prod at the issue when they had some time alone. “The signing after the radio interview was hot today.”

Kris snorted, “Fun, I can see. Hot, I don’t get.”

Adam only glanced at Kris before focusing in on Harry who was staring back at him, eyebrows drawn together. “Yeah, hot. Lots of great fans. You know, there was this one kid who got Harry’s autograph too.”

“No way,” Allison brightened. “You gave someone your autograph? He just, what waltzed up and asked for it? I didn’t see that!” She started cracking up, falling over against Adam’s shins. “What did you do?”

Harry sighed, “Yes, I gave someone my autograph. He came up to me and asked for it with that ridiculous tabloid of me and Adam, the first one from DC. What was I supposed to say? Tell him to bugger off?”

“He seemed like a really big fan of you,” Adam said helpfully. A really sweet kid too, Adam thought, all hopeful smiles and eager questions.

Harry’s eyes narrowed, “And you know that—”

Adam smiled, “I asked him.”

“Harry’s got fans now?” Danny rolled out of bed, “Those tabloids are really taking the shit out of you two, aren’t they?”

“You’re telling me,” Harry said.

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” Adam objected. “They’re just interested.”

“In your sex life,” Harry said. “And I guess by proxy, now my sex life.”

“So you two are sleeping together now?” Allison said.

“When did that happen?” Matt demanded.

“Connecticut,” Adam said playfully.

“It didn’t,” Harry spoke at the same time, but he gaped at Adam as the words sunk in. “We did not!”

“I distinctly remember it,” Adam said, chuckling.

“Details,” Allison said with a no-nonsense tone.

“No details,” Kris said a beat later.

“There are none,” Harry insisted.

“We slept together,” Adam looked to Allison. “We didn’t have sex.”

“Oh, cheat!” Allison rolled her eyes. “Bad Adam. What, you just shared the same bed? I do that with my cousins, yo.”

“But technically true,” Adam insisted cheerfully. “Baby, you can glare at me all you want, I’m not taking a word back,” He said to Harry.

“Berk.”

“Before we get into it,” Kris said, “Why don’t we drop it? Anyone for crawling into bed?”

“Not tired,” Matt said. “How about games?”

Allison jumped up, “God of War, I’m kicking your ass. Harry, wanna play with me?” Allison offered him a controller.

Harry passed it onto Matt. “I’m shit at video games, sorry, Alli. Strictly a spectator sport for me.”

“And I’m bowing out,” Adam said. “Matt move your ass to where you can actually see the TV without killing yourself.” They traded places, Adam settling in next to Kris as Matt dropped onto the couch across from him. Kris stood, grabbing up a few of the empty bottles off the table. “Kris..?”

“I’m opting for a book. Or my notebook, do some songwriting,” Kris said. “And passing out before they wake us up tomorrow. Today. Later. Night, guys.”

Adam took advantage and stretched out next to Harry. Harry didn’t object when Adam rested his head on his hip, tilting to see the mounted television. Adam hummed appreciatively when a hand stroked gently along his temple. Looking up at Harry, the guy was completely zoned out, focused on the screen, watching Allison go after something that looked like…a giant… spiky, vaguely human blob.

Harry hunched down slightly. “That’s supposed to be Hades?” He whispered.

“No idea,” Adam said.

Harry’s fingers paused in their slow rhythm along Adam’s temple. “I always pictured Hades tall, thin. Static? A bit more along the lines of one of those Gothic statues.”

Adam paused a second before saying, “You picture Hades like a twelfth century statue?”

Harry blinked and looked down at him. “Um. Yeah. That’s a bit odd, isn’t it?” He chuckled.

Adam’s mouth twitched, “Eccentric. Arguably a shining quality.”

“Isn’t eccentricity next to insanity?” Harry mused.

“It’s the light side of insanity,” Adam said. “Don’t worry, we’re all mad here.”

“Suppose that’s why I like it so much,” Harry said.

They jumped when the television clicked off and Matt spoke.

“Alright, I’m for bed, kids.” Matt stood and stretched, tossing the controller down. “Getting my ass handed to me four times in a row is enough bruising for my ego. And anyone remember we got a show tomorrow?”

“Er,” Danny said, heading back from the booth in the kitchen. “What about our guests?”

“I’m crashing here,” Allison said. She patted the couch for emphasis.

“And Harry can bunk with me,” Adam shrugged. He was all too pleased with himself and trying not to smile, feeling the glare Harry was sending in his direction. He just had to add on for good measure, “It’s not like we haven’t before.”

“I hardly think that’s appropriate. There were two beds before. And space,” Harry said quickly. “There are two couches here. I can sleep on one of them.”

He was largely ignored.

“Alli’s sleeping on one.” Danny pointed out. “Isn’t there something in the rules about parental supervision?”

“Yeah, isn’t it something like, what’s most inappropriate is Alli sleeping in the same room with a man and no supervision? According to the suits?” Matt said, “Sorry, Harry.”

“She is underage,” Danny said, ruffling a hand through his bedhead.

“Hey, I can take care of myself!” Allison said, indignation infusing her voice. “Like I’d be interested in any of you losers anyway.” They all stared at her in a bit of shock as she wrapped herself in a throw and curled up on the couch. “Besides, mom okayed it. Now you can all get out of my ‘room’ here, before I throw you out.”

“Including me, I suppose?” Harry asked.

“Wouldn’t want to upset the ‘suits’ now would we?” Allison asked, primly.

“Brat,” Harry said. “Wouldn’t want your mom knowing about the alc either.”

“Blackmail?” Allison huffed, “Doesn’t work on me.”

Adam caught Harry’s arm and tugged him toward the bunks. “You know Harry would never tattle on you, Allicat. Especially without evidence.”

“You’re such a—”

“Allicat is an impressionable little teen you shouldn’t go cussing in front of,” Adam cut him off. He grinned when Harry laughed loudly.

“Right. She’s so very impressionable,” Harry said. “I feel the victim to a complex and absurd plot here.”

“Ssshh. Don’t go ruining our sense of accomplishment.” He nodded at the upper bunk, “Up top.”

Harry stared at the space and then him. “You’re kidding, right? I can spend the night in the kitchen. It wouldn’t be the first time I—”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Seriously, baby, I won’t take advantage. Cross my heart. I’m a gentleman. Usually. Besides, the guys would throw a fucking fit.”

“Seconded.” Matt said immediately from the bed he’d already climbed into. The curtain below Adam’s bed rustled and a crack appeared. Kris’s eyes blinked out at them. “Seriously.”

“And the motion carries.” Danny said as he resettled into his bunk across from them.

“Wipe the smirk off your face,” Harry told Adam. Adam ignored him, smile only growing bigger. He bounced on his heels a little. “My problem has nothing to do with trusting you, just so you know,” He added.

Adam’s smirk melted away. If that wasn’t what bothered Harry… Though he couldn’t ignore the warm feeling at the knowledge Harry trusted him. “What’s the problem then?”

“It’s small,” Harry glanced back up at the cubicle of space.

Adam looked up too. He didn’t really see the problem with that. “I’m good at squishing?”

Harry’s mouth twitched, “It’s small for one person, and there’s two of us.”

“You’re small. I squish. It’s all good,” Adam said. “You want the wall or the edge?”

“Wall.,” he sighed, but started climbing up.

“Wait, you’re sleeping in your jeans?” Adam asked. Talk about uncomfortable.

“Yes.”

“But—”

“Adam, I am not wearing your pajamas. You’re a bloody giant,” Harry said firmly, already settling into the bunk.

“Boxers are fine. Or briefs?” Adam pointed out. Now he was wondering which it was. Boxers or briefs? Wasn’t that the question of the ages.

“Jeans,” Harry said firmly from the dark bunk.

“Are you—”

“Adam,” Harry said.

Adam’s eyes widened. Oh. Oh, Harry was… Fuck, he did not need to know that. There was a sudden coughing fit from one of the beds. Apparently Danny didn’t need to know that either. But Adam thought it was ridiculously hot that Harry went commando.

“‘kay,” Adam cleared his throat. He rustled around in one of his drawers and pulled out his lounge pants. “Be right back then.” He shot a glance back at the bed before vanishing into the bathroom. Under any other circumstances he would probably forgo the gentleman rule and mercilessly feel up Harry.

He was pretty sure if he tried that the others would join together and throw him off the bus, so he saved the plan for another time. Still, it was hard to erase the image of Harry, close to naked and tucked away in his bunk. It felt illicit somehow, even though he’d done far kinkier things. It would be so very easy, run his fingers along the waistband of Harry’s jeans, flick open the button, the zipper, slide his hand long heated skin...

He took longer changing in the bathroom than he should have before finally sneaking out and tiptoeing to bed. The reading light built into the ceiling was glowing gently in the tight space. Harry was on his side, against the wall, arm tucked under his head. And fast asleep.

Adam watched him for a minute before climbing in, snapping the curtain shut and hitting the light. So much for illicit. But he sidled closer nonetheless, arm sliding easily over Harry’s waist. Harry curled in closer, subconsciously hooking a leg over Adam’s, face pressing lightly into his chest.

Okay, so this was even better than illicit bunk sex, Adam thought, already drifting off despite himself. Maybe he’d try Harry in the morning.

----------

“We’re going on a date?” Harry asked. “When did this happen again?” He accepted the jacket Adam was holding out to him.

“I came up with the idea last night,” Adam said cheerfully. “After the show. In the wee hours of the morning, while working on a song.”

Harry slowly managed to stop staring at him. “A day date.”

“Yep. You’ll love it. We’ll get lunch. Go shopping. Sight see. It’ll be great.” Adam nodded toward the hotel elevators. “You’re not working, I’m not working. Van’s downstairs.”

“You don’t have something you need to urgently get on?” Harry asked skeptically.

Adam’s smile blossomed into a grin, “Just you.”

Harry’s eyes widened. He cleared his throat and stared at the carpet for a minute, willing the slowly creeping flush across his cheeks to vanish. He looked back up at Adam determinedly. “I meant your career, not your hobbies.”

Adam shook his head, still grinning, “Conference call tonight with some suits in LA, some talk about getting into a couple studios the second I’m back in the city, that sort of thing. Nothing to do for hours…but you.”

And bloody hell, it was the blush that wouldn’t die. It was the blush Harry could feel close to the surface of his skin any time Adam came within hearing distance. Harry couldn’t think of much else to do but go along and hope he didn’t make an arse of himself. He headed down the hall. “Alright. Sounds like fun.”

Adam froze in his steps before putting on a burst of speed and catching up with him in three long strides. “Wait, just like that? You’re agreeing just like that?”

Harry slanted a glance at him. “You want me to argue about it?”

“Yes! Er. No, I thought you would. You always argue,” Adam said thoughtfully. He brightened, “Does this mean you’re giving in to the realization that we belong together?”

“You’re not going to break into some cheesy song, are you?” Harry asked suspiciously. He shrugged his jacket on, wondering how Adam could stand the cooling autumn air in only a t-shirt.

“Only if you want me to.”

“And to answer your question, that would be a no, but it sounds like a bit of fun, and Mer-god knows a few hours away from the insanity would be a blessing.”

“You’re caving,” Adam said happily. He winked and followed Harry’s flushing form into the elevator. “I knew you would. And you can say ‘Merlin.’ I won’t out you to the others.”

“It hardly counts as a date when there’s going to be at least three of us,” Harry finally said as the elevator chimed and the doors slid open to the lobby. “Day dates don’t count in general.”

Adam shook his head, “One, yes, it would be. Two, there’s just going to be the two of us. As in, two people on a normal date. Three, day dates count. Why wouldn’t they? They’re a date, it’s in the name.”

“Wait, no security?” Harry frowned. “We’re going out in public for a prolonged period of time in various locations and Jack isn’t forcing a bodyguard on you?”

Adam led him toward the exit. “You count as security, according to Angie’s latest paperwork, according to security, and, most importantly, according to Jack.” He grinned, “I don’t know what you did to convince him of that, but it’s not like you haven’t played my bodyguard before. I wish you’d play my bodyguard a little more, maybe tonight, in my hotel room—”

Harry snorted, “Try ‘not a chance in hell.’ And what about your stalker? Everyone’s ignoring Bale now?”

“We don’t know he’s mine,” Adam objected immediately, mouth curling in a pout. “He could equally be yours. You’re like the only one he ever let’s see him.”

“I am not his obsession! Bloody hell. Would you let that go already?”

“Not a chance in hell. I have as much right to worry about you as you do me.” He stuck out his tongue, and couldn’t stop the laughter at Harry’s disbelieving expression.

“Sometimes I worry you’re a seven-year-old in a twenty-seven-year-old’s body,” Harry griped.

Adam tucked an arm around Harry’s waist as they hit the parking lot. “Only when I’m around other seven-year-olds, baby.”

“You never answered about Bale.” He pushed his weight into Adam’s side briefly, a physical nudge. “I find it hard to believe Jack is fine with this.”

“You’ve been assigned to me and Kris, remember? You’re supposed to come along with me. If we just happen to use that pretense to go on a date… Jack’s fine with it, so relax. Besides, Bale hasn’t been seen for almost a week even though he was showing up at every show and event for, what, a couple weeks before then? It’s weird. Maybe he got bored? Maybe he doesn’t like that we’re on to him?” Adam opened the passenger door of their newly rented van for Harry.

He climbed in reluctantly. “I doubt that’s it.” He’d told Jack he’d seen Bale at the interview a couple days ago, and Jack had passed it onto Angie, Harry knew. They’d discussed telling the Idols, but decided not to worry them with it. According to Angie, this was supposed to be their tour, their ‘careers and passion,’ and they shouldn’t be burdened with this ‘dark shadow of a bastard.’ Harry personally preferred using the argument it was security’s job to worry about it, not the Idols’. In either case, the outcome was the same. Harry felt niggling guilt that maybe he should have confided it to Adam. The rock star was, after all, the object of Bale’s obsession, even if he didn’t want to accept that reality.

“You okay?” Adam paused in adjusting the rearview mirror, glancing over at Harry.

“Yeah, why?”

“You’re glaring at the dashboard like it’s insulted your mom,” Adam said. A half-smile curved his mouth. “You’re not going to pick a fight with it, are you?”

Harry’s lips twitched. “No. I’m fine, really, love.”

Adam hummed disagreement, but he slid his seatbelt on and started the car. “Is this about Bale still? It’s fine, Harry. If we get kidnapped and, I don’t know, eaten or whatever, I’ll eat my favorite scarf. And put your seatbelt on.”

Harry put it on automatically. “It’s not.”

Adam pulled out into traffic. When the silence stretched he reached over and fiddled with the radio until Harry swatted his hand away. “Find a rock channel. Maybe some classics.”

“You didn’t plot out mood music?” Harry smirked. “A CD or one of your seduction playlists?”

“I’m not that diabolical,” Adam said. “Who says I have seduction playlists?”

“Anyone who has ever met you.” Harry found a station blaring out Led Zeppelin and stopped on it as Adam hummed appreciatively.

He settled back into the soft leather seat, letting his mind wander. It was calming and still a bit fascinating to Harry to watch Adam drive. The only way he could think to describe it was zen. Adam fell into himself, his whole focus on the road and cars around him. He would sing or tap his fingers along to the radio blaring in the background, and if Adam was in the driver’s seat, the radio was always on. Hell, if Adam got within reaching distance of the tuner, the radio magically turned on.

Now his fingers were tapping against his jeans-clad thigh as Zeppelin faded and the opening chords of some Rolling Stones song came over the speakers. He merged smoothly across the lane and took them left. Harry absently wished he knew where they were going as he glanced out Adam’s window. There wasn’t much of anything, mostly hotels and the nearby stadium centers. Boring, really. Adam was a much more fascinating view, which is why Harry found himself studying Adam’s hands as they gripped the steering wheel, one settled firmly near the top, the other absently stroking the wheel, or flicking a gear, or tapping out beats on his jeans.

“What is it, baby?” Adam asked absently, glancing at him, eyes curious but more focused on their surroundings, completely relaxed.

Harry shook his head, knowing Adam couldn’t see him. “Nothing. I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“Is this about the date thing?” Adam rested a hand on Harry’s thigh, squeezing slightly. “You were so excited about a date fifteen minutes ago.”

“It’s not a date. It’s a day date, which doesn’t count.” Harry was still working on the reasons why it didn’t count, aside from his stalwart determination for it to simply be that way.

“Do you think you get too caught up in definitions, babe?” Adam sighed, “We could be having so much more fun if you’d relax and trust me a little.”

“I do trust you,” Harry objected. “I’m fine, love. Really, fine. Thinking too loudly.”

“Think a little louder,” Adam said. His thumb was stroking along the inner edge of Harry’s thigh now. “So I can hear too.”

Harry made a little disagreeing noise. He expected Adam wouldn’t want to hear more about Bale. That’s what was really on his mind. Dating and their relationship, whatever it meant, fighting over it didn’t seem that big an issue when Bale was out there, threatening everything.

The way he showed up and the way he vanished.

“Harry?” The hand squeezed his leg. “You still with me? Is this about us? You need to talk to me about this.”

“You really think Bale’s not a problem,” Harry blurted out. Adam actually groaned.

“Seriously getting tired of the way Bale’s popping up in every single conversation. Pain in the ass,” Adam said, tone bordering on bitchy. “If he wasn’t stalking one of us before, his spectre’s doing a bang-up job.”

Harry could work with that, he could fight about that, even if he couldn’t sort out anything else with Adam. “Bale’s a threat. Stalkers can be dangerous and he’s proven he’s willing and able to follow us around the country, at close quarters, with none of us noticing. That doesn’t disturb you?”

“We have an eye on him now. He hasn’t been around in a week. There’s been no creepy letters or dead animals on the buses or in the hotel rooms. He’s a fanatic, so we have a few of those. And he’s probably gone now, scared shitless by you and Jack,” Adam insisted.

Harry chewed on his lip as the car rolled to a stop at a light. “That’s your argument? That he hasn’t been around for awhile? Would you be more wary if he had been?”

He shrugged a shoulder, looking over at Harry. “Possibly? Depends what he did. But he hasn’t.”

It was one of those instantaneous decisions of Harry’s. The ones Hermione hated and Ron loved, the ones without reasoning and with all of Harry’s gut instinct behind them. The ones that usually got him in trouble. “I saw Bale at the radio interview the other day, in Columbus.”

Adam’s hands froze mid tap to the Pink Floyd number on the stereo. He stared at Harry hard. “Did I hear that right?”

Harry met his gaze squarely. “Two days ago. Bale was at that interview.”

“Did he do—”

“He was watching. Ran off when I spotted him. I couldn’t reach him in time,” Harry said. He tugged at his seatbelt, still irritated with himself he’d let that opportunity slip by.

“Excuse me?”

Harry glanced back at Adam, prepared to repeat himself, but the words froze on his tongue at Adam’s expression.

“You went after him? Are you insane? Did anyone know?” Adam’s fingers were curling and uncurling against the steering wheel.

“I told Jack.” Harry said after a minute. “Security knows, Angie too. I wouldn’t keep from reporting Bale, Adam. We didn’t want to worry all of you. You have enough going on with the tour.”

Adam’s jaw twitched, clenched tight. “Not what I fucking meant.” His eyes slid shut, brow drawn. “Though I have a few choice words on that too. Fuck! Was anyone with you? When you followed him? At the interview? Shit, Harry! You’re not trying to follow him all the time, are you?”

A horn blasted behind them. Harry glanced back, then forward out the window. “The light’s green.”

“I don’t really give a damn,” Adam snapped, but he stepped on the gas, shooting through the light as fast as a previously idling car could. “Are you chasing him?”

Harry sighed, “I do security. You called me your bodyguard—”

“That’s not the same damn thing and you know it,” Adam said, fingers still gripping the wheel tightly. He growled softly and flicked the radio off in one quick movement.

Harry waited a few minutes, watching Adam brood and fidgeting with his own seatbelt. He suddenly missed Adam’s hand on his leg. It felt like a sharp pain in his gut. “I didn’t expect to see him at the interview, but I tried to follow him,” He said finally. “I’m not going to stand by if there’s something I can do to keep you and the others a little safer.”

Adam didn’t glance at him, simply stared at the road. Harry tried to calm the nerves clawing through his stomach. He couldn’t recall a tenser ride in his life.

“Why didn’t you tell us, if you wanted to keep us safe?”

Before Harry could answer, Adam added,

“And what the fuck makes you think getting yourself killed or kidnapped or whatever is going to make us safer? You don’t just go,” he waved a hand at the windshield, “running off into danger. That’s… God, that’s so stupid.”

“I can handle myself,” Harry said immediately. He hesitated for half a second before he added, “But I am sorry we didn’t tell you. We should have. I should have. That was,”

“Shitty,” Adam supplied.

“Yeah.”

“We have the fucking right to know.”

“You do. I know you do. I wasn’t thinking about that.” And Harry was having hideous flashbacks to his fifth year, Albus, and Sirius. No one trusted him with what he needed to know then and he’d fucked up so badly. He slid a hand over to Adam’s leg tentatively, ignoring the tension in his stomach and in the air. Trying desperately to ignore the memories. He ran his palm along the stiff muscle.

“I am sorry, Adam.” His voice was thicker than he wanted it to be. But the nerves were easing with the simple touch, and he could see Adam relax minutely too. Wide, surprised blue eyes glanced toward him before refocusing on the road.

“It’s not totally okay, Harry,” Adam said insistently, but his grip was easing on the steering wheel. “And fuck, you shouldn’t go chasing Bale—”

“I’m going to stop him,” Harry said. “Whichever of us he’s stalking, I’m going to stop him, Adam.”

There was a deep, frustrated sigh. “Next time you see him, tell me.”

Harry could agree to that, readily. “Promise. Would you please take him more seriously, for my sake?”

Adam snorted, “Will you stop acting like the lone ranger?”

“Who?”

“Ah, television character. A hero who was always running off to save the day,” Adam explained.

Harry made a face, “You all watch too much telly.”

“It’s an American classic!” Adam said. “And you’re not sidetracking me. Stop chasing him. You’re not some superhero who goes rushing off to rescue damsels in distress.”

“What if I am?” Harry asked, tone challenging despite himself. “I could be, what’s his name… Shit… Clark Kent.”

Adam burst out laughing. “Alright, you switch between glasses and contacts like a pro, baby, but that doesn’t mean you vanish off to slay bad guys and, I don’t know, rewind time.” His fingers wound with Harry’s, still pressed lightly against his thigh.

“The rewinding time part is the trickiest,” Harry said cheerfully, relieved the tension had melted from the air, that they were Adam and Harry again, going on some confused day date. “Damsels and slaying’s easier, if you can find a damsel interested in being rescued, who doesn’t start going on about equal rights and holding doors and shit. Same holds for bad guys.”

Adam laughed, “How much experience do you have slaying bad guys again?”

“Some?” Harry said.

Adam huffed, “Keep Bale off your list of accomplishments, would you? Leave it to Jack or, or…”

“Don’t you dare say karma,” Harry said.

“Karma’s the best payback,” Adam said promptly.

“Sometimes karma needs a little help,” Harry said back. “So, are we..?”

Adam paused. “Yeah, we are.”

Harry nodded silently. Good. They were good. The rest of the tension bled out of him.

“I’m still a little pissed.”

“Okay.”

“This is so not ruining our date,” Adam added.

“It’s not a date,” Harry said automatically.

Adam shot him a bullshit look, eyebrow drawn up and lips quirked down. “After that bombshell, I definitely get this one.”

Harry stared incredulously. “It does not work that way!”

“Does.”

“Adam!”

“You know it does,” Adam said.

Harry sputtered.

“So, officially a date.” Adam’s fingers tightened their grip around Harry’s. “And Bale is not going to fucking ruin it. Lunch first?”

----------

This was his favorite part of the job. He sat there, on stage, plugging in wires in their correct places and making sure everything was hooked up the way it was supposed to be. It was little too close to technology for his comfort, but once he learned what wires plugged into what spots, it was fairly mindless. He could do the work while focusing on something else entirely, not having to worry about making a broken piece of technology magically work again. Half the time he and the rest of the crew used the time to mess around.

Harry was blessedly free from having to actually check any instrument itself. That was too bloody nerve-wracking for him. He didn’t know shit about instruments, and he told the musically inclined that point blank. He wasn’t going to touch the things if he could help it. Half of it was that he was concerned he would make a priceless instrument explode, like the last laptop he’d worked on.

He was just connecting the last of the cords when someone cleared her throat behind him. Harry turned on his knees next to the stereo.

The dark-haired, middle-aged woman smiled down at him, “Harry Grey, isn’t it?”

“Ah, yeah…” Harry stared at her. Her smile was familiar, and her face—oh. “You’re Adam’s mum, aren’t you?”

She looked taken aback. “Yes, I am. How did you know that? We haven’t met, have we? I’m positive we haven’t.”

He smiled apologetically, “Sorry, no, we haven’t. It’s your cheekbones, and your smile. You two look a lot alike.” He stood, brushing his palms off on his jeans before offering his hand. “Um, you know I’m Harry Grey already.”

“I’ll tell Adam the compliment,” she laughed, shaking his hand. “My name is Leila, Leila Lambert.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He glanced down at the speaker, “I need to finish this quickly. Is there something I can help you with?”

She shook her head, “No, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Adam’s been talking about you so much these days. Since I was visiting I thought it would be nice to chat with you. May I join you while you finish up?”

“Sure. Ah…” He looked around uncertainly. Most everyone else was finished and moving on, caught up in their own work.

“That’s all right, Harry, just finish what you were doing.” Leila settled herself on the floor, crossing her legs and smoothing out her shirt. “Don’t worry about me.”

“You sure?” Harry asked.

“Oh, quite. I’m fine.” She patted the floor.

Harry went back to work, connecting the next set of wires. “I didn’t know you were coming out to the tour. Adam’s usually very, er, exuberant and vocal when it comes to visiting family and friends.”

“This was more of a spur of the moment trip,” Leila said. “I surprised him.”

“Ah. Anything you wanted to talk about in particular? I take it Adam’s busy at that phone conference for the, what was it, the Gaga song?”

She made a noise of agreement before asking, “Have you always worked on tours, Harry? Are you a technician?”

Harry smiled absently, “No. This is mostly new to me, honestly. But I was always good with electronics when I was a kid. My cousin was always breaking his toys. His walkman and video games. His computer. I learned to fix them out of habit mostly,” he chuckled. “Actually, I’m worse with this stuff now than I was back then.”

“Your cousin had his own computer in the, ah,” she looked him over, “eighties? That’s unusual. They were new then.”

“Late eighties.” Harry grinned up at her. “Dudley saw it on the telly and wanted one. Got it for Christmas.”

Leila nodded slowly. “Your family must be well off then. Did you have a computer?”

“No, but I didn’t really want one anyway. They were well off enough, nothing unusual.” His lips quirked, “You might say perfectly normal.”

Leila smiled in response. “So what is it you do then, Harry?”

Harry slid his way over to the base a few feet off. “Lots of odds and ends.” He glanced up at her. “This and that. A bit of everything. What’s the phrase,”

“Jack of all trades,” Leila supplied.

Harry chuckled, “Yeah, that’s the one.”

“List a few? Jobs, hobbies even,” Leila asked. “I’m curious.”

“Ah,” Harry frowned. “Technician, roadie, did some sports years ago, driver, waiter, a bit of security work, clerk, bartender, volunteer stuff back in Britain. Tried being an…a policeman.” He grinned, “Dog walker, that was fun. Garden work, lots of that actually, several times in the summer over the last three years. Mechanic, but that was more for me. I wanted to learn about motorbikes. Love gardening and cooking.” He paused, then said, “Huh, funny though, I’ve never worked as chef. I guess it’s never thrilled me, the idea of cooking strictly for others.”

“Do you cook often?”

“Don’t have the time these days,” Harry admitted. He brushed a strand of hair from his eyes. “Actually, I haven’t cooked much since I left home.”

“Ah.” Leila offered him one of the last disconnected cords. “I imagine this should be connected to something on the other side?”

“Base, I think, thanks. I don’t pay much attention beyond this.” A brief smile flickered in his eyes before he frowned slowly. “Why’d you want to know about me?”

“Because my son likes you so much,” Leila said blandly. “Can you blame me? Mother’s prerogative.”

He didn’t know what possessed him to blurt out, “We’re just friends.”

Leila looked taken aback, “You’re just friends?”

“Yeah.”

“The way he talks about you, Harry,” Leila started.

“Really just good mates,” Harry said.

Leila shook her head, “Honey, he’s falling for you.”

Harry froze, last wire held loosely in one hand, just staring up at Leila. A panicked haze misted over his brain. “I… He’s just flirting?”

“Harry,” Leila’s tone was gentle. “I know my son’s a big flirt half the time, but he’s told me about you. He’s kissed you, hasn’t he? You two have been on dates?”

Harry’s breathing was coming harder. “Yes,” he croaked out reluctantly, still staring at her with wide eyes.

“Do you think he goes around kissing everyone he meets?”

“He flirts…”

“Flirts, honey. Kissing’s more than that,” Leila said. “And you’ve been on dates, from what I understand.”

“There’s only been one, and it’s not really a date,” Harry tried. He couldn’t quite make that fly though, and he knew it from the arched eyebrow and skeptical look on Leila’s face. The whole ‘date or day date’ argument came back in a rush. Harry really, really couldn’t justify that. Not to Adam’s mum. Oh sweet Merlin, Adam’s mum. That entire concept was sinking in a little more.

Mothers were never a particularly good omen for Harry. His stomach clenched around the sudden queasy feeling.

Leila leaned over and patted Harry’s hand. “I don’t know what’s going on, Harry, I only have Adam’s side of things. A few minutes of conversation when we can manage. But I can tell you something definite. Adam’s falling for you.”

Harry stared wide-eyed at her. The wire in his hand sparked blue electricity before bursting into flame. Leila gasped, pulling back and getting up to her feet. Harry looked down at the wiring in shock, gripping the cord tighter before throwing it away from them both. By the time he stood Leila was already dashing off, alerting the nearest crewmember of the fire.

Harry had to forcibly stop himself from putting it out with a thought and a word. Brian came running, fire extinguisher in hand. It was out a second later.

“Harry?” Leila’s hand rested on Harry’s arm. He nearly jumped out of his skin. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” Harry said slowly. “Are you?”

“Of course,” she frowned, peering into his face. “You weren’t shocked? I think you should see the medic, have a quick check-up.”

“No, it’s okay, I’m fine, really.” Harry looked around, looking for any escape. He knew mothers, and he knew how persistent they could be. He didn’t feel like seeing a medic because he’d caused a bit of accidental magic. And he didn’t quite feel like trying to explain why a wire suddenly burst into flame in his hands to said medic. And he really didn’t feel like explaining his relationship with Adam to Leila.

Up high, in the balcony seats, someone was staring down at them. Harry squinted up. Maybe Jack was running through the security check again. Maybe Harry could beg off with Leila by helping out with that. The figure moved back into the shadows. Harry took a step forward, as if that would stop the person from moving, squinting harder. It clicked in Harry’s head. That wasn’t security, that was Bale.

Bale was in the theatre.

As excuses worked, Harry thought, that was a bloody good one.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Lambert, I have to…go…do something.” Harry made his way to the stairs beside the stage, dashing down them. “It was lovely meeting you,” he called over his shoulder.

As he ran off he dialed Jack’s number, the first number on his speed dial. No one answered. It took him three minutes to wind his way through the amphitheatre and dash upstairs. Every second he was mentally berating himself for not seeing Bale sooner. How long had he been hiding in the shadows upstairs?

When he got up there, he swore to himself. Bale was nowhere to be seen. He called Jack again, slowly walking down the aisle of seats.

“Hello?”

“Jack.” Relief filled his mind. “I saw Bale.”

“Where are you, Harry?” Jack asked.

“First balcony in the theatre,” Harry said. “I was down on stage helping to set up. He’s gone, Jack.”

“We’ll do a sweep. Anyone with you?”

“No, just me.”

“Then get your ass back downstairs immediately.”

Harry chuckled without mirth. “Hell no. I’m not going anywhere until I know he’s not here.” He could practically hear Jack’s scowl.

“Then you will not hang up this phone until someone from security’s glued to your ass, got it?”

“Better bring some glue. I’m fresh out.” Harry headed along to the walls, staring into every shadow, peering down rows of seats. There was nothing. “But I think he’s gone, Jack. He saw me spot him from the stage.”

There was no sign of him.

He hung up his mobile absently, not really noticing Jack’s chatter or the way his mobile started buzzing almost immediately in his hand. He walked slowly past more rows before cutting across to the left side aisle. He pushed open a few of the heavy doors blocking the main hallway or the stairwells into private boxes.

There was well and truly nothing.

“Harry!” It was Jack’s voice. He was storming toward him, face darkened with anger. “What part of ‘do not hang up this phone’ failed to sink into that thick skull of yours?”

Harry kicked a seat in irritation, watching as Mark and three other security guards began winding their way down the side aisles, going up into the private boxes and checking in all the shadows. He knew they wouldn’t find any. “It’s annoying, Jack.”

“Having people asking you to refrain from doing stupid things?” Jack snapped. “Come on, the boys here are checking the floor. Let’s go see if Bale waltzed out of here before our very eyes on the camera feeds.”

“Bale. The way he vanishes. It’s not natural.” He trailed after Jack’s retreating form, following him down the dim and curving stairwell to the main level.

“You’re not the only one who finds it frustrating. Gets under your skin. Don’t let it mess with your head, Harry. He’s got a trick up his sleeve we haven’t sussed out yet. We’ll get him,” Jack said. He sounded comfortingly assured. Harry was not nearly so confident.

“It’s not natural,” he repeated.

Jack slanted a glance back at him. “How so?”

Harry sighed. He couldn’t make it any clearer without going into some top secret, ‘mind the red tape’ shit. “He just vanishes.”

“What, like a wizard? Magic?” Jack chuckled.

“Sort of like,” Harry sighed. Bale didn’t have a drop of magic in him, from all Harry’s senses could tell, but Merlin. Bale was unnatural. Harry would swear there was something magical about him. Only, if Bale was somehow a wizard, that turned everything on its head.

Jack was shaking his head. Before he had the chance to respond, a familiar voice was ringing out from the bottom of the stairs.

“What’s magic?” Adam was standing there, his mum half tucked behind him. Harry thought it was sweetly protective, because Adam wasn’t an idiot, he had to know the ruckus was for Bale. His next words confirmed Harry’s suspicions. “Mom said Harry freaked about some guy upstairs? I tried to follow you guys up, but sweet Anderson here insisted my brilliant and shining company remain with him.”

Leila shook her head and squeezed Adam’s arm. “I was under the distinct impression Andy here was interested in my company, not yours.”

Anderson chuckled, “I’d have to agree with that assessment, Mrs.—Leila, pardon.”

Adam was trying to pout and failing miserably as he laughed at their antics. “Since I’m being insulted here and denied the use of the balcony, I think it’s time for lunch. Mom promised me an amazing lunch. If we’re done with our witch hunt.”

“Witch hunt?” Harry jumped at the phrase, more paranoid than he wanted to admit.

Adam’s eyebrow arched up at Harry’s tone, alarmingly reminiscent of his mother’s own, “You okay, baby?”

“Witch hunt,” Harry prompted again. “Who said anything—”

Adam spoke simultaneously, “Not meant in the traditional sense? I didn’t mean you imagined Bale upstairs or anything. The fuck just keeps vanishing, like a witch.”

Jack snorted, “Harry was saying the exact same thing on our way down. He’s not some mystical phantom, kids. But I would like to finish running a check on the place before Bale has a chance to get too far. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Harry sincerely doubted it.

“Do you need Harry?” Adam asked. “I heard a rumor he was coming to lunch.”

Leila smiled at his side and spoke to Harry. “I was going to ask you to join us, before the to-do started.”

Adam stepped forward and hooked arms with Harry. “You’re not saying no.” He gave Jack a look that challenged him to defy him. When Jack held up his hands in defeat Adam grinned smugly, laced his fingers with Leila’s, and began urging them both toward the exit. “Mom, you said there was a nice restaurant nearby? Harry, you’ll love mom. She has the funniest stories of pot in the seventies—”

“Oh god, Adam,” Leila groaned.

“Actually, Jack and I were going to look over camera—” Harry started.

“Don’t worry, Harry, I’ll manage,” Jack called after their retreating forms. “You don’t know any more than I do in this case.” Harry wanted to curse the man.

----------

“What?” Adam asked sleepily, hands sliding up along Harry’s ribcage. He tightened his grip, “Harry? Wait, what? What are you doing? You’re here… You want to..?”

“No, I haven’t changed my mind,” Harry hummed, nuzzling into Adam’s neck. He licked delicately behind Adam’s ear. Adam pulled in a shuddering breath.

“Then…” Adam felt more confused than he ever recalled being. Then again, he was pretty sure he was half asleep and this could be some fabulous hallucination. Only he was slowly waking up and it was hard not to notice the real, heavy weight of Harry’s nude body settled over his, or the strong scent of vodka and whiskey on Harry’s breath.

“I just figured it out.” Harry trailed kisses along Adam’s jaw. “You only think you want me, but you don’t really. So if you get what you want you’ll work out that you don’t really want it after all. Then things will go back to the way they’re supposed to be. Get it?”

“…no.” Adam frowned sleepily. “Fuuuuck,” he bit out as Harry nipped at his nipple.

This was, this was really good, Adam thought. Bad. It was really bad. He tried to push his brain into working and did the first thing that seemed sensible. Adam tucked one arm around Harry’s waist, braced them both with his feet and other arm, and flipped them.

Now he was more awake and reality was finally sinking in. He grabbed Harry’s arms, fingers sliding loosely along until he hit Harry’s wrists. He tightened his grip. “Arms up,” he ordered, tugging gently until Harry’s hands slid through the cheap wooden slats of the headboard. He squeezed gently. “Stay.”

Then he slid off the bed, hunting for the tie he knew he had somewhere in his bags. When he turned back around Harry was sitting up, confusion written across his features. He tried not to think about how insanely sexy it was, the way Harry sat there naked and oblivious, comfortable enough in his own skin not to care that Adam was looking over every inch of bare flesh. And Adam was.

“Adam, what..?”

Adam climbed back on the bed, straddling Harry’s thighs and pushing him back down. “Hands.”

Harry stared, realization dawning. He hesitated. Adam could tell from the suspicious, belligerent expression that bondage was not on Harry’ agenda tonight.

He pushed Harry on a little. “You want to fuck?” At Harry’s determined expression, he shifted his hips down against his unexpected partner. “Then hands up.”

Adam had to admit to himself he was more than a little surprised when Harry reluctantly lifted his hands above his head, sliding them around one of the slats of the headboard. “Then what?” Harry asked archly.

Adam smiled mischievously, “What do you think, baby?” He slid the silk tie around Harry’s wrist, then the slat, then his other wrist, looping back and tying it neatly. After surveying his handiwork for a minute he nodded to himself and shifted down Harry’s body. He leaned down slowly, studying Harry’s face before dropping a kiss on his mouth. “Too tight?”

“No.” Harry pushed his hips up into Adam. “Fuck me.” That determined edge was returning stronger than ever.

Adam pulled back a little, hovering barely a foot above Harry, his forearms resting to either side of Harry’s head, bracing him. Shit, he was hard as hell, and Harry was right there aroused and eager and available, but… He shook his head, “No, baby.”

The shock that passed across Harry’s face would have been comical in any other situation. “What?”

“No, I’m not going to fuck you,” Adam said.

Their hips were pressed tightly together. Harry ground upward. “Why not?” He was pissed.

Adam groaned, leaned down and rested his forehead against Harry’s. “Because you’re not here, Harry.” At Harry’s sharp intake he rolled his hips forward, “Your body’s here, and your stupid, annoying-as-fuck stubbornness, and your friend, alcohol, but the rest of you… When I fuck you, you’re going to be here. With me.”

Harry took a shuddering breath, trying to stay in control. “I. Am. Right. Here.”

Adam kissed him gently before sitting up. “Biggest load of crap I’ve heard all summer.”

Harry pressed up as hard as he could. “You are not bloody leaving it like this.”

Adam wasn’t sure what he was talking about, them or his cock or this completely failed attempt at…whatever this was. Adam hadn’t the faintest fucking clue what Harry was thinking when he snuck into his room. He looked down at him thoughtfully. “I can get you off, baby,” he said after a minute. “But we’re not having sex.”

Harry growled, “You fucking annoying, idiotic, oblivious arse—” His voice faltered to a stop as Adam’s hand slid down, wrapping around Harry’s attentive dick.

“You were saying?” His eyes were dark, pupils blown open, watching Harry writhe and buck upward with lust.

“Fuck you,” Harry groaned, thrusting up helplessly.

Adam leaned down slightly. His hips and fucking aching cock pressed down into Harry despite himself. “Not tonight, baby.” He slid his hand along Harry’s cock faster, biting his lip against the friction, because they weren’t prepared enough for this. He could almost feel what Harry was feeling, whimpering and moaning beneath him. Full on lightning strikes of pleasure hitting him, little sparks of pain at the friction from the lack of lube. The coiling of pleasure building low in his belly, his balls drawing up tight… His breath caught. He was hard and fuck, fuckfuckfuck, Harry was right here under him. He slid his thumb over the tip of Harry’s cock, swiping up the precome. Harry convulsed and came with a yell, fingers scrabbling at the headboard uselessly.

Most of Adam’s body was screaming flat out that it was all over way too fast. What was left of his melted brain was relieved it slid over them so damn quickly. But what he wouldn’t give to watch Harry writhe like that, see exactly what he looked like while Adam teased him and took him apart, stretched and fucked him until he was screaming for it. He stared down as Harry panted, practically melting into his bed. He bit his lip. He wanted… Oh fuck, how he wanted… He slid off Harry, rolling off the bed quickly and slamming into the bathroom. It would be so damn easy to just…go to town on that man, the asshole he wanted so badly.

He looked at himself in the mirror, frazzled and panting and hard as hell. He groaned and slid his hand around his dick, leaning against the counter. His eyes slid shut as he moved his hand, working his cock and imagining it was someone else’s hand entirely. Someone else’s fingers sliding roughly up and down his already too-hard prick. He came, caught somewhere between relief and frustration.

----------

Harry had caught his breath and his brain was returning to something like normal. Inebriated, but normal. Maybe the adrenaline was even burning away some of the alcohol. He tugged uselessly at the tie still holding him to the bed. It was definitely not the first time Adam had tied someone up.

He glanced at the bathroom door, swallowing hard. A ball of nerves and worry settled in his stomach. Adam had nearly stormed into the bathroom, and what if he was pissed? Or really it was a matter of how pissed he was. Harry wanted to get the fuck out of there. Or go check on Adam. Or go check on Adam and then get the hell out of there. The third option felt like the best combination of Gryffindor bravery and drunken cowardice.

Would Adam come back out at all? Would he want Harry to be gone? But hell, how could he? He could barely shift his wrists. Adam couldn’t expect Harry to show himself out.

Five minutes later the door slid open slowly. Harry would say ‘calmly’ if a door could open calmly. Adam walked out, naked and … he was definitely calm. Some of the tenseness eased out of Harry. Adam wasn’t pissed anyway, that was a good sign. Most of the nerves still twisted in his belly. He wanted to say something, but what? It felt like his voice was jammed tightly, stuck in his throat.

Adam climbed onto the bed, onto Harry, settling over his legs comfortably. He slid a damp washcloth over Harry’s stomach and carefully along his crotch before tossing it to the floor. Harry only watched him, could only watch him. He still couldn’t think of a thing to say, and his voice still felt trapped inside him anyway.

Adam’s hands finally stilled to rest loosely on Harry’s hips. He was staring at Harry, silent and thoughtful, chewing on his bottom lip.

Harry tugged uselessly on his restraint again, wanting to move. To do something. “Adam…” He tried and trailed off uselessly.

That seemed to trigger Adam into movement. He sighed deeply and shifted upward, bowed over Harry. He pressed his forehead into Harry’s once more. “Baby, why do you keep doing this?”

Harry swallowed, “Doing what?”

“This,” Adam said. “Fighting us. Making this so fucking hard.”

“I’m not…” Harry shuddered slightly. “This isn’t… Mer—God—”

“Merlin,” Adam said. “It’s just us.”

Harry shook his head, “Adam, I’m so wrong for you. Why don’t you get that?”

Adam pressed closer, dropping a kiss against his cheek. “You’re perfect for me, Harry. You won’t bother to see that, trying so hard to make yourself wrong for me.” He slid back down Harry, sitting up properly and taking to studying him once more. “This proves it, doesn’t it.” He rubbed his thumb across Harry’s hip absently.

Harry fought down the slight edge of panic. “What do you mean?”

Adam hummed, that lazy, confident smile coming back to him. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have something to prove about us.”

“You’re reading that a bit backwards.” Harry meant for that to come out incredibly biting. Somehow it ended up plaintive more than anything. His breath caught as Adam squeezed his hip slightly.

“You know…” Adam’s eyes traveled down Harry’s body.

“You know?” Harry tugged his wrists again, uselessly. Every instinct in him was telling him he needed to be able to move, to get away or fight back or something. “Untie me?”

Adam glanced back up at his face briefly before switching his attention back down Harry’s body. “I don’t think so.” He wiggled down slowly, resettling between Harry’s legs, pushing them open until he could bend over, lick and suck at Harry’s lightly haired thigh.

He pushed Harry’s legs slightly wider, tilting his head to the side. He sucked on the delicate skin of Harry’s inner thigh, sucking harder and then lapping his tongue across the abused skin. He had to know perfectly well it would darken into a bruise. It had to be exactly what he wanted. He slid up a little, nipping and sucking at Harry’s hip. Harry shuddered beneath him, breath coming in ragged gasps. It dawned on him Adam was marking him, territory claimed. He wondered if Adam could feel the little moans he couldn’t hold back despite biting the inside of his cheek. He pushed up against the exploring mouth.

Adam moved up further, apparently satisfied Harry’s hip would bear a mouth-shaped bruise. He bit gently at Harry’s ribcage, leaving another hickey. And then moved up higher, nuzzling at Harry’s neck before biting the curve of neck and shoulder.

Harry twisted his head to the side, unsure if he was trying to get away or bloody give Adam better access. He bit his lip hard to keep from swearing, tugging roughly at the headboard.

Adam pulled back once more, surveying his work and humming happily. He slid off, curling at his side, sliding an arm over Harry’s chest. “I think I’ll keep you.”

Harry huffed. “Fuck, untie me now, would you? Why don’t you bloody scrawl your name across my forehead and get it over with?”

It was almost instantaneous. Adam sat up and stared down at Harry.

“…what?” Harry asked warily.

“That’s a good idea.”

Harry frowned, “What is?”

Adam grinned and climbed off the bed. He dug through his belongings. “Ah, here it is!” He jumped back in the bed, still grinning.

“Here what is?” But he could see the dim outline of a marker clutched in Adam’s hand. Harry had a bad feeling about this.

He uncapped his sharpie, settling himself over Harry’s torso. “Signing you.” He studied Harry’s stomach for a brief second before settling his left arm on Harry’s belly, bracing him to keep him from moving too much. He carefully signed his name on Harry’s hip, right across the hickey, the tail end climbing up his side. He leaned back and studied his work. “That…is fucking hot, baby.”

Harry was gaping at him. “I don’t believe you bloody did that.”

“It was your idea.” Adam tossed the pen on the floor in the general direction of his bag and resettled himself at Harry’s side. He carefully avoided Harry’s hip, to keep from smearing the ink before it dried.

“You bloody bastard.”

He stroked Harry’s stomach. “Bitch about it in the morning, hmm?” He dropped a kiss against Harry’s hair.

“Aren’t you going to untie me?” Harry snapped.

“Nah, it’d be nice if you spent the night,” Adam said.

“Adam!”

“Night, Harry.”

Harry squirmed, but Adam’s fingers only squeezed at his side gently. Harry slowly relaxed back into the bed, realizing it was pointless to yank at restraints that weren’t budging, and wondered how the hell his plan to show Adam how incredibly bad they would be together backfired so horrendously.

He swore off mini bottles of vodka then and there.

----------

It was something like waking to find you’d been so drunk you went to bed under a park bench without realizing it. Or a lunatic was hovering over you with a wand to your head. Or someone had tied you to your bed. It was pure disorientation, the worst feeling one could wake up with, in Harry’s experience.

It was just a feeling as Harry slowly pulled himself up from the depths of dreams. He tried to shift, frowning groggily and cracking open still exhausted eyelids. The room was pitch dark, though he could see the glowing, incredibly fuzzy red numbers of a clock a few feet off. He squinted. It was just past seven. He shut his eyes against the bright numbers and dull ache in his head. He couldn’t bring himself to move, though it felt more like he couldn’t move whatever his inclination, and he couldn’t gather why.

Slowly the soft, damp, steady breath of someone just at his back sunk into his brain. Surely he’d known he wasn’t alone the entire time. He just didn’t realize it until this second. He forcibly quelled the spike of alarm. The adrenaline hurt his head.

Last night began filtering back to him in some grotesque, rapid, nonlinear procession. Stress and work. Adam walking naked around his hotel room, some sense of watching him helplessly. Leila Lambert and alcohol and frustration. Bale hovering in the shadows.

Then that one moment that spiraled all the other memories back into place slid calmly into view. That one moment standing in his own hotel room, abusing the mini-bar more than management would approve of and contemplating the fact that Leila Lambert, of all people, thought he would be good for her son. She’d intimated as much at lunch.

Jack had tacitly done the same by letting Harry go with them to lunch.

And Adam fucking ‘I’m going to get everything I want’ Lambert, not getting it through his thick head in the slightest. Not realizing the obvious, that Harry had issues and secrets, and really wasn’t good for anyone at all. Not himself even, and certainly not for Adam.

Harry realized he had to prove it to him, in those dark, alcohol saturated hours just past midnight. It was the only way to get Adam to stop, to make him see sense. It only seemed logical that giving Adam what he wanted, with all its messiness and insanity, would get his point across. Harry would climb into bed with him. Then Adam would get the damn bug out of his system and finally work out the heart of the matter. He’d figure out he didn’t really want Harry, which suited Harry just fine. The universe would go back to the way it was supposed to be.

Harry would be a loner. He would travel from one dead-end job to another. He would not fall in love with some opinionated, self-assured, idiot rock star.

He suspected the two miniature bottles of brandy, one of tequila, and two of vodka had a large hand in helping him resort to this plan.

Which had failed miserably. Of course it would have. Plans never went the way they were supposed to. He was Harry bloody Potter, champion of ineffective plans. Because now he realized where he was. It only made sense he’d feel stiff and locked into place. He was tied to a bed. Adam’s bed. The bastard tied him to it last night. Harry let him.

Adam was sleeping, snoring lightly and occasionally snuffling at his side, arm still tucked over his waist, over Harry’s own arm and down his stomach, fingers caught between Harry’s hip and the mattress.

Wait. Adam’s arm was draped over his arm? Harry drew a slow, deep, confused breath. He tried to mentally clear the cobwebs from his mind and took account of himself. No, he was not still tied to the bed. When did that happen? He desperately tried to recall. When the hell had Adam untied him? Had he untied him? He must have. Or, shit, Harry hadn’t done a bit of accidental magic, had he? That alarm was edging back into his mind. Could he even do that? Could he perform accidental magic in a drunken sleep? No, no, no, it had to be Adam.

It had to be Adam.

Harry tensed. His head throbbed. He tried not to think about everything that could possibly go wrong in the next few hours. Adam could have not untied him, leaving an awkward conversation about how Harry’s arms were no longer strapped to the headboard. Adam could ask what the hell Harry had been thinking. He could pry Harry’s reasons from him and refute them all. He had the annoying habit of doing that.

This was so bloody fucked up.

He really hoped Adam wouldn’t wake up for awhile. He needed to think. He needed to, Merlin forbid, plan. He needed to not have the conversation Adam would undoubtedly want to have.

And he needed some bloody aspirin.

Adam cleared his throat and shifted behind him, bare chest pressing in closer against Harry’s back and arm tightening around his waist. Heat radiated from Adam, washing over Harry like an oven. Harry tensed even more, surprised that he could. He thought his muscles were as taut and stressed as they could get.

“Jesus, Harry.” Adam’s nose pressed against his scalp, words slurred from sleep and muffled against his hair. “Would you relax? You feel hard as a board.” Then a smile formed on the mouth pressed against his head and Adam wiggled a little. “Maybe you are?”

He swatted the suddenly wandering hand creeping down his belly. “‘m not.” The hand kept moving, so Harry caught it up in his own, their fingers lacing together naturally.

The smile broadened. Adam pushed in closer. “Knew you were awake.”

Oh, if that was ever a trap. Blast. “You have no sense of fair play,” Harry complained.

“With you fair play isn’t a practical option,” Adam said.

Harry tried hard not to enjoy the rough, sleepy rasp of his voice. He freed his arm and squirmed determinedly toward the edge of the bed. Adam, somehow, followed him without apparent difficulty.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Adam said, still sleepy and yet still more awake than Harry felt. The arm was firm around his waist.

“I have to take a piss,” Harry said, half turning to look at his bed partner, or the fuzzy, blurred but recognizable shape of his bed partner.

A pout traced its way across Adam’s face, but his grip loosened. “Oh. ‘Kay. But you’re staying?”

“Yeah.” He wondered if Adam meant for that to come off as a question. As he slid into the bathroom and grabbed his glasses off the nightstand – thank Merlin he had enough sense to put them on the nightstand – he felt guilty for that brief spark of vulnerability in him, knowing he put it there. Adam never bloody deserved that.

He used the loo and washed his hands and stared at himself in the mirror. He tried to identify any redeeming quality Adam seemed to see. He didn’t think he was a bad bloke, as things went. He knew he was a good person. Experience taught him that. Experience also taught him he was a shit boyfriend. He was fairly sure any and all past lovers wanted to tattoo ‘doesn’t play well with others’ across his back.

He jerked toward the door as something thumped against it.

“Do I even want to know what’s taking you so long?” Adam’s voice was muffled through the door. “You better not be jacking off.” There was a short pause. “And I know you’re off the toilet because I heard the sink, so get your ass back out here.”

Harry smiled despite himself and opened the door. “Bloody impatient,” he said and promptly tripped over something on the floor. Something that hadn’t been there five minutes ago. “A pillow? You threw a bleedin’ pillow at the door?”

Adam was sitting up in bed and grinning, sheets and duvet pooled in his lap as he sat cross-legged. He propped his elbows on his knees. “Worked, didn’t it?”

“Right.” Harry stood there awkwardly, not knowing how to proceed, what to say or what Adam wanted to say. It took him a few minutes to realize Adam was looking him over with an incredibly curious, intent look to his face. Then he remembered he was stark naked.

There was the bloody blush that came whenever he was with Adam. He looked around blankly for his clothes, ignoring Adam’s still studying gaze and his slowly flushing body. He couldn’t find them.

Oh, Merlin. Oh, fuck. God, please, please say he had not come here naked last night. If there was any god in the universe, he had not walked three floors drunk and naked. Surely there would be complaints and people pounding down the door if he had? He couldn’t have—

There were a pair of jeans lying carelessly just inside the door. His. He could tell from the white paint stained permanently below one knee. He grabbed them up and slid them on, noticing and ignoring a grey t-shirt and pile of items next to them: keys, hotel cards, mobile, the lip gloss Lil had forced on him.

Adam made a noise of dissent from the bed. Harry ignored that too, but headed to the bed anyway, climbing onto the end and settling in. “Should we order coffee? Breakfast?”

Adam looked him over, “And be disturbed?”

“What are they going to disturb? It’s not like we’re going to fuck,” Harry said brusquely.

A delicate black eyebrow went up. “That isn’t what you said last night.”

Harry went dark red. So they were jumping right into things then. Merlin, he could use a coffee. And then he thought to ask, “Do you have aspirin?”

Adam blinked at him.

“My head,” Harry elaborated. “A wee bit hung over.”

Adam tried to hide his smile as he reached over to one of the nightstands and grabbed a bottle off it, tossing it to him. “Not that you don’t deserve it.”

Harry swallowed two and tossed the bottle back.

“So did you mean to change the subject that spectacularly, or was that a coincidence of your hangover?” Adam asked, still smiling and far too amused about all this in Harry’s opinion.

“Why aren’t you…” Harry waved at him vaguely.

Adam was frowning again. “Are you always this articulate in the mornings, baby?”

Any remaining words died in his throat. He stared at Adam helplessly. He studied the bright blue eyes, freckles, and the night’s stubble along his jaw and chin, distracted and definitely trying to not think about last night. Or explaining last night. “Um.”

“Oh my god,” Adam’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You are.” A hand ran through his hair restlessly. “You are not getting out of this.”

“I’m not trying to,” Harry said. It was a barefaced lie and he was sure they both knew it. “Why aren’t you angry?”

“Angry?” Adam said. “Why would I be?”

Harry blinked. “Because I’m a tosser?”

Adam laughed. He edged forward, the bedding dragging with him and piling up between them. Harry eyed him questioningly, but Adam simply grabbed up his hands. “You are a fucking tosser, but I’m not mad. Let’s just talk about it, okay?”

“How are you not mad?” Harry asked. He was outraged on Adam’s behalf, against himself. Surely the man was not that thick. “I was a complete—”

“Twat, I know,” Adam said. “An adorable one, though.”

Harry’s mouth clicked shut.

“So?” Adam’s hands squeezed his own. “I’m massively confused and an explanation on why you’re so keen on sabotaging our relationship would be nice right about now.”

Harry blinked slowly. He wanted to tug his hands free, and didn’t want to at the same time. He knew he would have to tell the truth. He couldn’t lie to Adam. Especially about them. …was there a ‘them?’ He took a deep breath, then said, “I wanted to make you see sense.” He almost asked, ‘Is there an ‘us?’ Somehow he didn’t think it was fair to spring that question though.

Adam waited a full minute. “See sense. About what?” He asked finally.

Harry wanted to wave between them, because words felt too difficult, but his hands were still caught in Adam’s larger ones, and he still couldn’t bring himself to pull away. “About us.” ‘About us’ meant there was an ‘us,’ and Harry had just verbally acknowledged that. He wondered if Adam noticed. No, he was sure Adam noticed. He had the annoying habit of jumping on those details.

“About us,” Adam said. His voice carried no inflection and Harry found himself trying to read the carefully neutral expression without success. But Adam didn’t elaborate, simply sat there, watching Harry with nothing to say.

“Yes,” Harry said, hoping that would prompt him. It didn’t. He fidgeted, tried to twist his fingers into the sheets and only remembered they were still tangled with Adam’s own when his grip tightened, keeping Harry from distracting himself. Harry started babbling. “It made sense last night, alright? You’re so damn pushy about us, about dating me, and I don’t know why. And then your mum,”

“My mom?” Adam asked incredulously. His fingers tightened briefly around Harry’s before relaxing. “At lunch? You don’t like her? I thought you two got along like a house on fire.”

Harry could see the worry and unhappiness flowing off Adam. “Your mum is lovely, you idiot,” he said with exasperation. “I’m not. It’s not that,” he sighed heavily.

“But something bothered you,” Adam prompted, intent.

Harry breathed in slowly, trying to think how to explain best. He wanted to panic, but breathing and looking at Adam, worried and upset, somehow calmed his nerves. “It’s what she said. The way you look at me. It’s like you don’t see how messed up I am. How could you miss that? You’re not an idiot, but Merlin, you can be so thick, and last night I wanted you to understand—I still want you to understand,”

“You’re protecting me?” Adam said suddenly, eyes flashing with sudden insight.

Harry froze, shocked. He hadn’t quite thought of it that way, but, “Ye-es, I am.”

“From yourself?” Adam asked.

Harry hesitated before saying, “I’m aware that might sound absurd—”

“That you’re protecting me from yourself?” Adam snorted. “Not at all.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, “Look, I’m not—”

“You like to do that, don’t you?” Adam shook his head. He seemed annoyed.

“Do what?” He thought through his last few remarks. Nothing struck him as unusual.

“Protecting. Protecting me, others.” Adam rubbed his hand roughly through his hair, shaking out the short locks. “It’s what you’re always doing. What you always seem to be thinking about. From Bale, from fans, from media, from you.” Then those piercing blue eyes pinned him in place with a stare. “You need to knock that off. I don’t need protecting.”

Harry objected so fast, he was sure Adam’s head spun. Harry’s did, in any case. “You’re joking. Nothing about your lifestyle—”

A hand covered his mouth. Adam looked more than a little irritated now. “I chose this. Fame and attention and even stalkers, if they crop up. I’m aware I may need a bodyguard for that. I don’t need you to protect me. You, Harry. It is not your personal job or your mission or whatever. I can look after myself, and when I can’t, I’ll hire someone to pick up the slack. You, I need you to ease off.”

“You don’t want me,” Harry translated.

Adam jerked back as though Harry hit him. He blinked rapidly. “That’s not— Fuck, what does that have to do with wanting you?”

Harry frowned, stared in confusion before it dawned on him. “I meant,” he said carefully, “you don’t want my help.”

“You said that I don’t want you,” Adam said. He had that firm tone of voice that drove Harry mad, the one that said he wasn’t letting this go, even if in Harry’s opinion there was nothing to pick at. “Wanting you and wanting your protection are two different things, Harry.”

Harry smiled wryly, “I know that, Adam.”

His eyebrow was arching up skeptically. “I’m not sure you do, baby. Fuck, that’d explain a lot.”

That was annoying. One misspoken sentence and Adam figured he had it all worked out? Harry leaned forward, poking his finger into Adam’s chest. “I am aware of the difference. I do not have some complex.”

Adam met his stare squarely. “You’re always running, you don’t want to open up to me or anyone else, even though we’re your friends. I’m more than your friend, and don’t even try to deny it. You’re always thinking about what you have to keep me safe from. Just, stop. Sit here and be with me.”

“You’re too good for me,” Harry said quietly.

Adam’s jaw clenched and he let out a little growl. “I do not need you to protect me, Harry!”

This time it was Harry who pulled back. He finally tugged his hands free from Adam’s. “Would you please—”

“It’s your turn to listen, honey,” Adam said. He edged closer. Harry held his ground, determined to meet Adam’s angry glare, not sure why. To prove something. He couldn’t move back even if he’d wanted to or he’d fall straight off the bed. The sheets bunched tightly between them. He felt Adam’s knee as it pressed against his shin, padded by the bedding.

Adam leaned in until their noses were inches apart, impatiently brushing away the hair that fell across his eyes. “I am a grown man. I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions and dealing with whatever consequences. I’ve been doing it for years. Sometimes my decisions suck and hurt. Sometimes I pick the most unbelievable and amazing path. But I can work it out myself. You do not need to guard me against life.”

Harry stared wide-eyed. He felt that familiar, tight knot of panic forming in his stomach. He knew he was backing into a corner. He knew he would have to keep confessing until it all came out. “I’m a horrible person,” Harry said. When Adam started to object with that intense, determined glare Harry stopped him. “No. I am. I’ve done awful things and I don’t let people get close because it’s safer that way, and I’m horrible, I’d be so bad for you, and I really want you to… want me. And that’s horrible too.”

It felt like a weight had been lifted off him with those words, even though his stomach was plummeting. He dropped his gaze from Adam’s, unable to stand staring at the surprised, blank expression.

Adam shifted around again, but Harry stared at his lap until the hands slid into view before cupping his face. He pulled Harry closer until his lips pressed against Harry’s brow, soft and warm. He leaned his forehead against Harry’s own. “Harry, you fucking moron.”

“Well, those are encouraging words,” Harry said dryly. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

Adam snorted, breath puffing along Harry’s cheeks and mouth. One hand dropped down to pet along Harry’s side, the other still cupping his jaw, thumb stroking lazily under one ear. “You’re way better than you think you are. You deserve to be loved. To have someone love you. And you know what?” Adam pulled back. “I deserve the chance to love you, so you’re going to knock this ‘I need to protect you from myself’ bullshit off, right?”

Harry stared, shocked, and couldn’t help but wonder, “It doesn’t bother you? I tell you I’ve done horrible things and you don’t even ask? Shouldn’t that be something that worries you?”

Adam huffed a little, “I’m not going to push you for answers. When you’re ready to talk about it you’ll tell me.” There was no accusation to his behavior, only curiosity, a light in his eyes, questioning but accepting at the same time. That confused the hell out of Harry.

“And we’re—”

Adam groaned as his mobile began ringing. “Ignore that. You were saying?”

Harry’s mobile went off. He shook his head and smiled at Adam’s displeased expression. If he were ruler of the world, Harry was quite sure Adam would ensure mobiles would come equipped with immediate destruction options in case of unfortunate interruption.

“I think we’ll have to get those,” Harry said as the mobile went silent. No sooner had the words left his mouth then Adam’s mobile went off again. Then Harry’s. Adam’s shoulders slumped, but he fell back on the bed and fumbled for his mobile on the nightstand. Harry watched as Adam’s long and naked form stretched across the bed. He was sure it was miles of never-ending legs and torso, dusted with freckles and pale ginger hair. And Merlin, there was a reason behind Adam’s sexual confidence, if his leather pants hadn’t given that one away already. He slowly gazed up his body, enjoying the view and really suddenly cursing the ringing as much as Adam was. When his eyes finally trailed over the smooth, working throat and up he realized Adam was watching him. Open amusement and interest lay across his face, eyes glittering, and bloody hell, Adam was flushed. A pleased smile quirked his mouth as he answered the ringing and greeted the person on the line.

Harry bit back a groan and wiggled from under the pile of blankets before slipping off the bed. He picked up his belongings, mobile still ringing. It was his friend and fellow roadie Brian. According to the time, they were late. He cursed to himself. The busses needed to go in half an hour.

“Jack says to get our asses moving,” Adam said. He was off the bed and tugging a pair of faded jeans on. “Before you ask, I didn’t tell him you were here, he knew. Nosy twat that he is.”

Harry grinned at him, “D’you know you need to dye your hair? Your ginger’s showing at your roots.”

Adam made a face. “I know, I know. Tonight before the show. It’s already scheduled into everything. God, that man has the worst timing. Couldn’t wait another fifteen, could he?”

“It could have been worse.” Harry pulled his shirt on, grabbing up his things and jamming them into his pockets. He glanced down at his shirt, it was all tangled and caught in itself, hanging twisted halfway down his chest. He started tugging it into place before the sight hit his brain and he froze. There, just on the edge of his stomach, was black scrawling letters curling onto his side. Adam’s signature. Adam had fucking signed him. He blinked, in shock. How had he forgotten that? How had he missed that for the last two hours?

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked from across the room where he finished stuffing the last of his belongings into his bag.

“You signed me,” Harry said, not really knowing what else to say. He was indignant. He was shocked, because he had honestly forgotten. He was turned on, but like hell he was ever admitting that.

“Hot, isn’t it?” Adam was crossing the room. He caught Harry up and turned him around. Harry stepped back and hit the door. Before he could really say anything Adam was already leaning down and inspecting it. A hot, wet mouth pressed against the mark, tongue lapping over it and teeth grazing along the skin before he stood up just as abruptly. Harry bit back a groan. Adam beamed down at him, leaned the few inches down and nipped at his jaw until Harry gasped. Then Adam’s mouth pressed against his.

“You should have seen yourself earlier,” Adam said, leaning back to catch Harry’s eyes. “Naked, covered in hickeys and my autograph.” A brilliant smile lit up his face. “Gorgeous.”

“Gorgeous is a bit much,” Harry said and started to duck under Adam’s arms. He focused on getting back to their work and not on Adam’s nearness, the body heat and the faint scent of skin and cologne. He didn’t expect Adam’s hand to snag his shirt and tug him back.

Adam pressed him into the door, moving until his body was flush against Harry’s. His mouth was just above Harry’s ear when his hot breath puffed against it, “So. Fucking. Gorgeous.” Then he was gone, pulling back, but his hands were still on Harry. He pushed his shirt up farther before huffing and pulling it straight up, over Harry’s head and off, letting it drop to the floor. Then he grasped Harry’s jeans and tugged them down a few inches quickly and efficiently, until they barely hung on his hips. “I meant to take a picture. Totally spaced it.”

Harry stared at him in shock. He only watched as Adam dug out his phone, clicked through it. Harry’s brain came rushing back. He stepped forward. “What? No, Adam, I do not want—” And there was the click and snap from the phone.

Adam was looking down at it and grinning like a lunatic. He turned the phone to show Harry the screen. Harry was horrified to see himself, half naked and sharpie ink scrawled across his skin. He looked flushed and kissed and not as alarmed as he was feeling.

“Perfect, right?” Adam asked, tucking the phone away.

“You’re deleting that,” Harry said.

“No way. And you’ll never get my phone off me,” Adam said with a wink. “Aren’t we going to be late?”

----------

Part 3 || Part 5