Coup de Foudre - Part 2

[eaivalefay]

Coup de Foudre - Part 2


“Hey, kids,” Harry said as he stepped into the little lounge. He looked around. There was Lil and Matt on one couch. Rob and Kris were sitting on the other, with Ellie sandwiched tightly between them, looking positively thrilled with life. Harry guessed Rob would end up a very, very happy man later tonight. Even if he currently looked like he was approaching his own execution. “Kris,” he nodded toward the door. “If you don’t get back out there for the end, Angie will kill you and eat you for a nice midnight snack.” He glanced at the others. “Goes the same for you two.”

“Can I come along?” Ellie jumped up from the couch. “This is awesome. Did you see all the people out there? And I haven’t met Allison yet.” She smiled down at Rob. “Meet you in a bit, Robbie?”

He nodded, “Yeah, I wanna catch up with Harry.”

She grinned, “Oh, we three are going out for drinks after, at the very least. Your friend Harry does not come to town without spending a little time with me.” She patted Harry’s shoulder as she passed him, filing out of the room with Kris. “I want to hear all about Bermuda!”

Lil and Matt slowly followed her out, glancing back at the two left in the room. Robbie watched until they left as Harry grabbed a drink and dropped down in a chair.

Rob groaned in relief as the door clicked shut, rubbing at his face with both hands. “Jesus, I think I was just interrogated, Harry.”

Harry bit back his amusement, “What do you mean?”

“They were like, crazy mad to hear stories about you.” He shook his head, staring at the coffee table in front of him. His eyes were slightly glazed. “I’ve no clue why… No, that’s not true. You were always interesting when you worked at the museum with all of us. Everyone always theorized about you, Harry.”

Harry grinned slightly, “You mean the djinn theory or the voodoo priest one?”

“Djinn theories, and don’t forget the government spy-and-or-mafia stories that went around. Bermuda didn’t help.” Rob grinned too.

“So now Lil and everyone will be running around wondering if I’m going to do a little voodoo on them?” Harry raised an eyebrow. He didn’t know if he found that more funny or frustrating. Why was it impossible to escape the rumors?

Rob shrugged, looking slightly apologetic. “I tried not to say anything. They were like PI’s, Harry—“

“PI’s?” Harry interrupted, confused.

“Private investigators.” Rob filled in automatically. It’d become habit between them, because Harry always seemed to lose track of the simplest acronym or culture reference. Rob, Harry knew, figured it was the British thing. Harry knew it was the wizard thing. Spending half his life out of touch with the muggle world left him blank on more than a few references. “I let out you worked security sort of casually before, but since you work it here, I guess that’s alright. I let out the Russian thing though.”

“Russian thing,” Harry said.

“Yeah.” Rob fidgeted. “With the mafia? And your partner and the girls you helped.”

“…how the hell did that come up?” Harry asked, genuinely amazed. Merlin, if the Idols were on the “Russian thing” they would work at it until it fell apart. And there was no bloody way he would ever be able to explain it. He hoped they would manage to keep it from Jack, but he wouldn’t hold his breath on that one.

Rob shook his head, “I told you, Harry. They kept asking the entire time.”

“About me?”

“Who else?”

Harry’s amusement vanished. A few things were connecting in his head. And he could guess Adam was somehow connected to it. It would explain all the intrigue running high among the Idols all day. He focused back on Robbie, shelving the revelation for now. “Did Kris give you and Ellie the grand tour? The stage can be a fun thing to see. People always get a kick walking across it.”

Rob blinked at the change of subject. “Ah, no. Kris showed Ellie his guitars and things, I guess. Lil and Matt brought me back here to wait for you to get off. I’m surprised you’re not working until the signing is over.”

Shock melted into irritation. He could smell the plotting a mile away. He should have seen it earlier. Bloody hell. “Yeah, well, Jack—he’s basically head of security—didn’t need me as long as he thought tonight.” He nudged Rob’s leg with his foot. “Besides, we need all the time we can get to catch up. Tell me how you convinced Ellie to go on a date. Last I remember, she was still only the pretty clerk working at the restaurant down the street from your flat.”

Harry knew the Idols would be heading out to do barrier autographs soon. He relaxed as he and Rob chatted for at least an hour before the door swung open once more. Ellie bounced in with Kris, Jack, and Allison behind her.

“No Adam?” Harry asked Jack, not bothering to hide his grin. Jack rarely let Adam out of his sight. Harry had no doubt Jack had been watching him from the security center all night. Partly it was that the fans were prone to concentrate around him, especially the crazy ones. But Harry knew it was also partly because Adam was one of the few Idols prone toward crazy shenanigans.

“He’ll be along,” Jack nodded.

“Ready for drinks, boys?” Ellie asked. “There are a few great bars about ten minutes from here. I’d go to the ones just down the street, best wings in the city, but I’m guessing some fans have gone for post-concert drinks themselves.”

“I won’t say no to a couple more beers,” Rob said. He practically jumped up from the couch. The sidelong glance he sent Kris and Allison nearly made Harry laugh.

“Hold your horses,” Jack said. “You’ve got a few guests coming along.”

“Who,” Rob started.

“Kris!” Ellie said brightly. “And Adam, Matt, and Jack.”

“Ah,” Allison cut in. “Matt’s already crashing on the bus. He’s more exhausted than even he realized I think. And, I was hoping Kris would hang out here with me. I’ve, erm, got homework. You did say you were decent at history, didn’t you, Kris?”

Confusion flashed across his face before he blinked. “…right. You’re on the civil war right now?”

“Korea,” Allison corrected.

“Ah, I don’t know anything about that.” Kris smiled apologetically and ran a hand through his hair. “I think Meg knows something about it though.”

“But you could try to help me,” Allison said pointedly.

“Really, Alli, I don’t have a clue about it.”

Allison scowled, “You really don’t. Fine then.” She rolled her eyes, but waved at everyone as she opened the door. “See you when you’re back.”

“I guess we’re waiting for one then,” Harry said mildly. Except he wasn’t sure he wanted to see Adam right now. The news from Rob was starting to nag at him again, as well as Allison’s behavior.

Just outside the door they heard Allison’s voice. “Sandy! Clem!”

And a second voice, a child’s, “Alli! Look what Matty gave me!”

“That’s awesome, sweetie. Unicorns are the new black, right?”

“Hell yeah!” The girl shouted.

“Clem!” A third voice scolded.

Allison’s voice was filled with laughter, “Are you looking for Matt now, Sandy?”

The third voice, Sandy, said, “Yeah. We’re off now, but I wanted to say goodbye to my crazy nephew before you all roll out. Are you going tonight or tomorrow morning?”

“Somewhere in between. Matt’s on the bus, I’ll show you where,” Allison said. The voices trailed off down the hall, Clem’s the loudest as she showed off her unicorn.

Those voices were familiar. Really familiar. He was sure he’d just heard them… Oh. Sandra and Clemence. Harry’s slight annoyance shifted to flow blown anger. What the bloody fuck? Adam had acted like he hadn’t known them, only an hour ago.

Adam practically bounded into the room. “I heard something about drinks?”

“How are you not tired?” Jack asked.

“How could I possibly be tired?” Adam returned. “We had an amazing audience.”

“Let’s get to the bar.” Harry suggested, sliding past Adam and Jack at the doorway. He didn’t bother to hide the pissed tone of his voice. Rob followed him out. Harry could almost feel the sets of eyes staring at him as he strode down the hall and out to the private parking lot. They still had a van to travel around the city. He climbed in as the others arrived. Rob and Ellie came in next, Rob settling down beside him and Ellie sitting in front of him next to Kris. Adam and Jack were in the front, Adam muttering something to Jack. Jack shrugged.

----------

“So.” Rob tapped his fingers on the tabletop. It was hard to tell if it was from boredom or nerves. “This is a nice place. My first time here. It’s called The General’s?”

“Yeah, it’s a nice bar,” Kris nodded along, gazing around the room interestedly.

There was a long silence before Rob said, “Those drinks should be along soon.”

Ellie buried her head in her hands, Kris and Adam stared. Harry ignored it and continued his project of digging through the mixed nuts. He was collecting a small pile of cashews in front of him. Jack snorted, this was turning into one hell of an evening. Drinks with friends was a concept Jack was intimately familiar with. Sometimes it got a little rowdy, and turned into one hell of an evening of a different sort. This evening, he thought contemplatively, was one for the record books even for him. The last time he went out for drinks and things got this tense, had to be ’95, and…

“You’re hoarding the cashews,” Kris commented, eyes riveted on Harry’s pile. “Ever think some of us might like a few?”

Harry met his gaze, popped a cashew in his mouth. “Nope.”

“Harry,” Jack started. He could see the disappointment in Harry’s eyes when the drinks arrived. The man wanted to fight. That didn’t bode well.

Rob’s screwdriver was set in front of him. “Can I get another?” He asked. The waitress frowned, but he picked up his drink and threw the whole thing back. “Or maybe two?”

“Ah,” Ellie started as the waitress vanished. “Robbie, you were telling the mafia story, remember?”

“Um,” Robbie stuttered.

Kris flushed guiltily.

Adam looked on innocently, shooting confused looks between everyone. Jack’s eyes narrowed. He knew something was up. “Mafia story?” They spoke simultaneously.

“Apparently,” Harry said sourly, “When one spent enough time with one’s bodyguard or client one began to resemble them.”

“Harry,” Jack started again before Rob spoke.

“It’s nothing,” Robbie said, shooting Harry an unhappy look.

“Oh, it’s a fun story!” Ellie objected. She glanced around the table which was quickly turning into a tumultuous mess of emotions. “About Harry? Right, Harry?”

“Can’t say as I give much of a shit.” Harry followed Rob’s example and threw back his whiskey. “If you’ll excuse me, I need another drink and I’d rather not be here for this farce of a plot and complete disrespect for my person.”

However Adam did not move from the edge of the booth they were all crammed in. He looked obstinate, staring at him with a mixture of shock and irritation. Harry huffed, climbed up so he stood on the seat and walked right over him. “Next time try moving,” he advised, voice dripping acid.

“Harry!” Adam called after him in complete disbelief. “What the fuck—” He half rose out of his seat. Jack reached across the table and grabbed his arm.

At Adam’s angry glare, he said, “I suggest you let him go. The man clearly needs a little space.” He turned his attention back to the others. “Now. What is this mafia story? Kris? Elaine? Robert?” He looked at them each slowly. He didn’t bother with Adam, whose blank expression said it all; he didn’t know shit about it.

“It was just something we were talking about earlier.” Kris turned pink. He focused on his beer, twisting it in his hands. “Rob’s known Harry longer than us. It just seemed—ow!”

Adam was excellent at aiming his kicks. Jack was excellent at noticing subtle movement, including the air rushing past as Adam moved to stop Kris. Jack turned his look on Adam. “Spill it, wonderboy.”

“I don’t know what this mafia thing is,” Adam objected.

“Yes, but something tells me you know why Harry’s currently up at the bar, throwing back his third whiskey in five minutes,” Jack said.

Adam craned around toward the bar, concern plastered across his expressive face. “Third..? We just got here.”

“Making now the perfect time to explain what the hell you’ve been up to all day,” Jack said.

Adam turned back around, “All day?”

“Do you want me to list it all?” Jack inquired with a friendly smile.

Adam was not one to back down from a challenge. He met Jack’s gaze squarely. “That would be illuminating, yeah.”

Jack raised a finger, “You vanished off the radar with half the Idols yesterday for over an hour.” A second digit popped up, “You dragged Harry around the meet and greet all evening tonight. On his specifically requested night off. And apparently,” a third finger came up as he glanced briefly at the other three, “You encouraged Rob to share his knowledge about Harry. Ringing any bells?”

“It was all planned?” Rob sounded indignant, giving Adam the perfect reason to avoid answering Jack’s inquisition.

“Rob,” Adam began.

“Shut it,” Rob snapped. “I’ve had enough of this. I am going.” He made to leave.

Jack stopped him. “Wait a minute, Rob. Just sit back down. I know what these two did was idiotic.” He shot a look between Kris and Adam. Kris took a quick slurp off his beer. Adam met Jack’s gaze defiantly. “Nevertheless, I’d like to hear the mafia story myself.”

Rob gave him an incredulous look. “How about, no?”

“How about—”

“Harry!” Someone yelled across the bar, which effectively cut off their entire conversation. The group turned as one to locate the source of the cry. A tall Puerto Rican in leather pants and white t-shirt jumped up from a table across the room and strode toward the bar, waving enthusiastically in Harry’s direction.

Harry had swung around and was facing the on-comer warily, elbow propped up on the bar behind him, whiskey glass dangling from one hand. The suspicious look vanished and a smile spread across Harry’s face. He stood quickly and held out his arms. “Marco, you son of a bitch!” carried across the small room.

Jack glanced at Adam and saw the sharp look of displeasure as Marco swept Harry up into a hug, lifting him straight off his feet. Jack braced himself to grab onto his charge if he should try to head into a fight. He was sure Harry would start one if Adam marched over there.

Marco set Harry back on the ground, but didn’t let him out of the embrace. Instead he turned his mouth in toward Harry’s ear, whispering something and grinning like a loon.

Harry laughed and nodded, answering with a smirk.

Marco pulled back, but his hand slid along Harry’s arm and snagged his hand. He said something. Jack tensed, prepared to grab Adam, who was looking more and more unhappy.

But Harry shook his head at Marco. He reached back toward the bar. Marco groaned loudly, “Oh my lord, forget about it, Harry. We have booze at the table!” He pulled on Harry, literally dragging him across the room to a table crowded with men and women, all of them, Jack guessed, in their twenties and all of them wearing something closer to nothing. This was a crowd he expected Adam to end up in, not Harry.

A woman yelled and slinked an arm around Harry’s waist. The crowd pulled him in until he was seated on the table among the masses. Someone pushed a bottle into his hand. Harry eyed the bottle, listening to the woman, before tilting back, taking as long a swig as he could manage while trying not to laugh at the group’s antics.

He was smiling, the anger completely wiped clear from his face. Jack slanted a glance toward his rock star charge.

Adam was slouching back into the booth, arms crossed and a frown pressed into his mouth, eyebrows drawn. It was easy to see where Harry’s storm cloud had resettled.

----------

Every time Harry looked toward their table his frown returned. Adam simply waited, not sure what he was waiting for. Jack was sitting back, keeping an eye on Harry. Rob looked between Harry’s antics and Adam’s frozen countenance with something akin to glee even as Ellie hit Kris up for conversation, which Kris gladly obliged her with.

Harry still kept glancing over at their table.

Marco rested a hand on Harry’s arm, leaned in, whispered something in his ear. Harry shook his head and smiled briefly. He leaned back into Marco, speaking as he motioned toward the table.

Marco sat back and shrugged.

Adam watched it all with growing frustration. What the fuck?

He watched as Harry eased his way out of the crowd. He strolled back to their table, relaxed and lazy. It was a state of calm that seemed to fluctuate as he approached. He smiled, somewhat stiltedly, at the group waiting on him. Adam couldn’t find the words for what he was witnessing, whatever the fuck it was. He didn’t even know.

“I half expected you to head back to the hotel at some point,” Harry said.

“And leave you here to fend for yourself?” Adam asked archly, glancing pointedly at the group Harry had left behind him. A few of them were watching and exchanging laughs.

“I know the area,” Harry said, smile dropping off slightly. Adam abso-fucking-lutely hated Harry was mad at him. He was sure it should be the other way around anyway. “I’d be fine. Rob probably said, or did you not plumb the depths of your source?”

“Hey,” Rob said indignantly. “Give me some credit, would you.”

“Oh, Rob,” Harry winced. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I do trust your judgment. I didn’t…”

Rob looked mollified and waved Harry’s apology off. “I know. You just get scary touchy when people pry. I remember the djinn incident.”

Adam’s eyes glittered with suppressed anger. “Fuck forbid you share with me, though. No, that would be a fucking crime, wouldn’t it?” He could reasonably argue he only did it because Harry was a closed book—that is why he’d done it—but he’d be damned if he was going to give Harry the satisfaction of trying to justify himself. It would only come off as some sort of apology and he wasn’t sorry.

Harry’s expression turned brittle. “Have you ever bothered asking? I can’t recall.”

“Have you ever freely offered anything up at all? No,” Adam snapped. “People shouldn’t have to ask for every single detail of your life. Sometimes you just share it. It’s called being a human being, Harry.”

“So I’m not human now?” Harry asked icily.

“Okay,” Jack stepped in. “I think that’s enough of that, you two. Why don’t we head back to the hotel? If you feel you have to continue this, you can do it there.”

“Thank god,” Kris muttered.

Harry glanced at Jack, “No.”

“…no?” Jack said.

“I’m going dancing with a few mates.” Harry stepped back, “Go ahead and head back. I’ll pop in before the busses roll out.”

Jack frowned, “Harry, they want to go early.” He glanced down at his watch. It was two in the morning. “In a couple hours, five at the latest.”

“I’ll be back,” Harry said.

“I’m going with,” Adam spoke up.

Harry stared at him, “What?”

“I feel like dancing,” Adam shrugged, a mulish expression planted on his face. “Anything wrong?”

“You weren’t invited, for one.”

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say you don’t own all the bars and clubs in DC,” Adam said. “So I think I can go out to a club without your invitation.” He stood and turned back to the others, “Anyone else coming?”

Jack gave a long suffering sigh, “Just me, I suspect.”

Kris harrumphed, “Damn straight. Ellie, Rob, care to share a cab?”

Ellie nodded. Rob shot a concerned look toward Harry. “You sure?”

Harry nodded, not taking his eyes off Adam, “Yeah, get home. You work tomorrow, remember. We’ll be fine.”

----------

Marco took them to the largest gay club on the DC scene, Apex. It was Harry’s favorite place, the absolute best locale to have fun without anyone paying much attention. The five floors and six bars helped with that.

It was crowded, as Harry expected it to be. Men and women moved in and out, running up between floors, crowding the bars and swamping the dance floors.

It was exactly as Harry remembered it. He even recognized more people than he ever thought he knew in DC.

Marco beamed at the crowd, catching Harry’s hand and pulling him through the masses. “Drinks first, eh?” He asked the group, already heading for the bar. “You still on whiskey, Harry, or you ready for a change of pace?”

“Mixers,” Harry shouted over the noise as the dance number shifted to something metal. “I think half a bottle of whiskey’s enough, yeah?” He probably should have stopped earlier, he’d definitely reached the definition of drunk, but he was angry and trapped, and hell, he was going to drink and have fun if it killed him. He had to work some steam off.

Marco shook his head disbelievingly.

Harry glanced around to find Adam distracted by the countless half-naked men. Marco had led them up two floors to the third room, since the first two floors were much quieter and more relaxed than he preferred. By this stage most people were there for three reasons, dancing, drinking, and potentially hooking up, so half the dancers had half their clothes off. Most people wouldn’t find where they’d left their shit either, and end up meandering home half naked. The veterans of the club dressed appropriately and usually made friends with the bartenders, leaving items there.

Jack was propped against the bar, already nursing what Harry guessed to be a coke, watching the circle of men forming around Adam. It was easy to understand why. At 6’1” and in heels on top of it, dark hair, broad shoulders, and oozing ease and confidence in his tight jeans and loose t-shirt, Adam was attention-grabbing.

Harry watched with mixed feelings of irritation and relief as a small well toned man wearing only a pair of cut-off jeans sidled up to Adam and pressed flush across his body. Adam took it in stride, laughing and swinging an arm around the bloke’s shoulder. A couple other men moved in, nodding toward the dance floor.

Adam glanced up briefly, seeking out Harry and Jack. He seemed to note where they were before leading his group toward the pulsing throng of people on the dance floor.

Harry turned away, smirking up at Marco, trying very hard to forget the way Adam was strutting off with his new groupies. Frustration twisted in his gut.

Marco gave him a look that said he knew exactly what Harry was thinking. “Harry, you are going to have fun tonight. It’s my goal.”

“Oh great, so I get to be your project too now?” Harry rolled his eyes, unwilling to admit that was exactly what he wanted. Release some tension, forget the way his head was messed up over Adam and everything involving him.

Marco leaned away, “Rwar, kitty. Pull the claws back in.”

Harry’s mouth twitched, offering the smallest hint of a smile. “I forgot you don’t take anything personally.”

“What are we fake boyfriends for?” Marco laughed.

“For getting rid of skeeves,” Harry said. His smile broadened slightly. For awhile skeeves had been Marco’s favorite word.

“There are so many of them,” Marco nodded sagely. “Now get your ass moving, chacho. We’ve got a little circulating to do. There are a few boys I am dying for you to meet.”

“I don’t do boys, Marco,” Harry reminded.

It was Marco’s turn to roll his eyes. “Men then. Nice, fully grown men. Almost as tall as me. You’ll have fun with them.” He shot Harry a glance. “Unless you’re stuck on someone else.”

Harry felt reproached at that. Was he that bloody obvious? He resolved to try harder and followed closely behind Marco as he pulled him away. They slid past countless nameless faces as Marco led Harry up another flight of stairs. Harry watched as people filed past. The tamest thing on this floor was a shirtless man. Most were decked out in leather and lace, with liberal amounts of sparkle. The rest were stripped down to underwear or wearing dramatic costumes with some spectacular corsets.

Marco continued his trek through the club, holding their two vodka mixers above his head. Harry trailed closely behind him, half tempted to hang onto his t-shirt. It was easy to lose track of a person and then be unable to find them for hours.

“Aha, there you are!” Marco crowed. “Alexander, I have a surprise for you to meet!” Marco set the drinks down on a tiny table set along with a dozen others against the wall. He pulled Harry forward, “This is the infamous Harry Grey.”

Harry smiled and offered his hand to Alexander, who stood up at Harry’s appearance. “Nice to meet you, Alexander.”

“Just Alex. Marco’s got a weird thing with names.” His eyes slid down Harry’s body. “Where’s he been hiding someone as sexy as you?”

Harry almost laughed. He held it in and returned the curious, interested gaze with one of his own. Alex was handsome: tall, lithe, dark-haired, with broad shoulders and wide hands. Harry couldn’t find a single flaw for his purposes tonight.

Oh hell, except for one. He hesitated, then said, “I’m not looking for anything serious.” Because like hell he was going to lead some bloke on when all he wanted was to get off or have a quick shag.

Marco made a noise of protest beside him. Harry ignored him, watching Alex steadfastly.

Alex looked surprised, but he chuckled after a minute. “Harry, to be perfectly frank, I’m not looking for anything long term. I just want to have fun.”

Marco groaned, but was grinning broadly, “This means I don’t have to introduce you to anyone else?”

A smile curved across Harry’s lips. He waved Marco off. “You’ve done well. I owe you some pricey restaurant dinner.”

“Those pecan things you made would fit the bill,” Marco thumped him on the shoulder. “Now I’ve got a date with the charming “Miss” Lizzie upstairs. Ciao, boys.”

Alex grinned, “Wanna dance?”

Harry wanted to say no, he wanted to fuck and generally get the itch off his back. But dancing would have to do for the moment. Instead of answering he caught Alex’s hand, pulling him onto the floor. The techno beat was fast and pounding and mesmeric. Perfect. Harry slid up close, settling hands on hip and side, fingers curling onto his back and digging in ever so slightly. One of Alex’s hand slid down to cup Harry’s arse, urging him closer, pressing their bodies together. Harry undulated against Alex, shifting against his body, making sure they were lined up perfectly. Yes, dancing would do nicely for now.

----------

This was unbelievable.

Adam looked away for five—okay, possibly ten—minutes and he turned back to find Harry and Marco completely vanished from sight. Jack was still there, comfortably sitting on a stool, watching Adam gyrate with some guy. Harry was gone.

Adam worked his way off the floor, steadfastly refusing the tugs on his clothes and requests for dances. The tattooed blond he’d been with reattached himself to a new dancer.

Adam leaned against the bar next to Jack and ordered a drink. “Where’s Harry?” He asked, not really caring how obvious his jealousy was. This night was turning out to be spectacularly bad.

Jack arched an eyebrow at him.

Adam narrowed his eyes, “Look, I felt like dancing, alright? You can get off my back about it.” Jack’s eyebrows went up further. “This is not my fault.” And a little further. “You’re fucking impossible.” He accepted the martini from the bartender, pushing cash across the counter.

Jack cleared his throat.

“Can you blame me for being mad?” Adam asked. “He’s all touchy and sensitive… and then this Mark guy comes along hugging him and touching him like it’s no big deal, which it so obviously is to Harry. What does Mark have that I—”

“Marco,” Jack said.

“Whatever—”

“No, Marco is right there,” Jack said. He pointed toward the stairs. “Harry went up some time ago.”

Adam followed Jack’s gaze. “Right.” He quickly swallowed the rest of the martini. “I’ll be right back, just gonna ask about Harry.” Jack snorted.

Adam marched across the club. Or he tried. Really, he walked, slid, and squeezed through the crowd across the club. He would have marched if he could, feeling in a particularly vindictive, domineering, marching mood. He caught Marco just at the bottom of the stairs. “Hey!”

Marco turned to him in surprise. “Glamouroso, I thought you were lost to the dance floor!”

Adam was only slightly taken aback at Marco’s cheerful tone. Maybe rude wouldn’t be the best method of extracting information. Direct might work. Adam wasn’t sure he could do better than that at the moment. “Where’s Harry?”

Marco shook his head and pointed upstairs. “Last I saw him, up there, but that was an hour ago, Glamouroso.”

Adam nodded, “Think he’s still up there?”

Marco shrugged, “Couldn’t say. He seemed intent on undoing Alex, you know?”

Adam did. He was not fucking happy about it. “Thanks.” He had to get upstairs, pronto.

“No problem, Glamouroso. Hey,” he caught Adam’s arm, “Just look after him, would you?”

Adam frowned, “Harry’s not much into that ‘looking after’ thing.”

“Yeah, he says that. Acts it too most of the time.” Marco shook his head, “He doesn’t mean it.” He pressed a cooler into Adam’s hand. “Have a drink. Try the cage up on the fifth floor.”

Adam watched him go for about two seconds before shooting up the stairs. He peripherally saw Jack jump up to follow him. He picked up his speed. Maybe if he got up fast enough Jack would lose track of him for five minutes.

It turned out to be easier to lose Jack than he thought it would be. The floor was packed. Adam kept a lookout for Harry, but nothing caught his eye. He kept moving up, hitting the fifth floor. His instinct told him Marco was right and the cage was his best shot.

The cage, a literal cage, ran the length of the room, standing almost as a sixth floor to the place. It was half filled with dancing, gyrating, thrusting bodies. Couples pressed against the bars, bracing themselves for exhibitionistic exposure and going at it for all they were worth. Adam climbed up into it along a thin metal staircase. He passed couple after couple, each one making out and groping, losing clothes as fast as people did in LA. It would have been a wicked reminder of home, if he hadn’t had the image of some guy pressing Harry against the bars and stripping him bare stuck in his head. This was all fucking insane and unfair and he was going to rip into Harry as soon as he found the asshole.

Then Adam looked down. Harry wasn’t in the cage. Adam wasn’t into the bible overly, but suddenly the ‘ask and ye shall receive’ line seemed particularly poignant. Harry was on the ground, about six feet in front of him. He had some guy—Alex, Adam guessed—pressed into the wall and he was fucking going to town on him.

Adam was not having any of this shit. He made his way back along the cage, out, and across the floor once more. He came on Harry just as Harry’s hand disappeared into his partner’s jeans.

Adam slipped up behind Harry, close enough to feel Harry’s body heat even in the hot club, and caught his arm, tugging the hand out, because really, what the fuck? He kept hold of his arm, dragging him away at top speed, completely ignoring the dazed, drunk guy they were leaving behind. Harry gazed up at him with unfocused eyes.

“You’re kidding, right?” Harry asked, his voice slurred and accent thick. He stumbled along behind Adam, half tripping and reaching out to grab hold of Adam’s shirt. “Slow down, would you, you bloody idiot.”

“That’s my fucking line,” Adam snapped irritably. He led them through the maze of bodies, not really sure where he was going. Then he spotted it, and made a beeline for the door.

“The loo?” Harry asked incredulously.

“We’re going to talk now, even if it means doing it in the bathroom.” Adam pulled Harry in. Then he looked around at the half crowded room and promptly kicked everyone out. He was more than a little surprised that no one protested and it only took five minutes to get everyone out of room, even the men locked in the stalls. Maybe it was the expression on Adam’s face, the alpha one of his friends joked about when he was pissed. Or maybe it was Harry holding himself up at the sink, looking past drunk and irritated as hell, with a hard-on that was hard to fucking miss. Adam scowled, that Alex-whoever.

“Are you insane?” Harry demanded, pushing off from the sink to turn toward Adam.

“Are you?” Adam returned.

“What? That doesn’t make any sense—”

“I don’t get you,” Adam snapped. He pushed Harry against the wall, who grabbed Adam’s arm to steady himself. “I’m right here, and you know what, I’m fucking great. But no, there’s something horribly wrong with me, there must be! You go to some random bar and random club and feel up a bunch of random men. You’re getting off with some stranger—”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Harry snapped, squeezing Adam’s arm and looking a little disoriented as he glared up at him.

That’s what Harry focused on? Confusion and disbelief slammed into him like a bolt of lightning. He didn’t know whether to respond with more frustration, because Harry was clearly missing the point, or pleasure, because out of all that, he was what Harry chose to focus on. Of course, Harry was really drunk… And he wasn’t much better. Shit. This was so…

Harry pushed against Adam’s chest uselessly. “I wish you’d knock this off,” He complained.

“Knock what off?” Adam scowled.

“This!” Harry gave up pushing and waved between them as best he could. “This! This flirting nonsense, like it means anything.”

Adam closed his eyes, pure exasperation written across his face. “It’s not nonsense, Harry.”

“Don’t—”

“It’s not.” He leaned in the last foot of space and briefly pressed his mouth to Harry’s. “When are you going to get that through your thick skull?”

“You bloody spied on me,” Harry said, still visibly angry.

Adam cut him off with another kiss. He didn’t want to get into that, and kissing seemed a vastly better plan. He suspected if he tried the ‘I didn’t feel like I had much choice’ argument again the fight would start all over. He nipped gently at Harry’s lower lip before swiping his tongue across it. Apology and request.

Harry groaned, mouth sliding open. Adam hummed slightly, feeling triumphant. He let his hands wander, because holy fuck, he’d been wanting to do this for weeks and Harry was finally letting him. One hand rested on Harry’s hip, gripping slightly, holding Harry close. He slid fingers under Harry’s shirt, working his other hand up along his stomach and chest, sliding around to his back. He dug his nails in slightly. Harry arched away from the slight pain, pressing forward into Adam. Adam deepened their kiss briefly before pulling back to nuzzle along his neck.

“That guy looked just like me.” Adam trailed kisses along Harry’s jawbone.

“He didn’t,” Harry sighed, tilting his head to allow better access. He trailed a hand up Adam’s arm, across his shoulder to curl at the nape of his neck. He settled his other arm around Adam’s waist, pulling them tight together. He pressed his hips up into Adam’s, rocking slightly. “He was completely different.”

Adam scoffed, “He was tall, brunette, and hot. Even his name’s close to mine.” He slid his hand down to Harry’s thigh, pulling, hiking Harry’s leg up to brace against his own. Fuck, he just wanted to pick Harry up completely, have him wrap his legs around Adam’s waist, press into him, push into him.

“‘Alex’ is nothing like ‘Adam,’” Harry groaned. He had the same idea, because he thrust up into Adam, shifted enough to press in against him harder. He grabbed Adam’s other hand and pulled it down to his leg. “Fucking Merlin.”

Oh, that was it. He couldn’t not… Adam shifted enough so he could pick him up and then pressed him hard against the wall. Harry’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist and their crotches lined up perfectly. They shifted together, thrusting and rubbing against each other steadily, Adam pushing up against him as Harry ground down. His arms had wrapped tightly around Adam’s shoulders, bracing himself. Adam happily kissed Harry as Harry’s fingers curled back into his hair again, dragging him in close.

It was going much too quickly and they had far too many clothes on, Adam thought vaguely, but god. He had Harry against a wall, fitted so perfectly against him, both of them moving and writhing and wanting, and the only thing in the world was them. Who the fuck cared about clothes? This was exactly where he wanted to be.

----------

This could not be happening. Harry slowly picked up the paper Henry dropped on the table in front of him. “What is this?”

“I think the headline says it all.” Henry pulled out a chair and sat across from him. “Sorry, man.” He sounded genuinely sympathetic.

Lisa sat between them. “I’m surprised it hasn’t happened to anyone sooner.”

Harry stared at the cover with the cheesy title and grainy photo. “It’s too bloody early for this.” It really was. It was barely seven in the morning. He’d been up with half the crew since five this morning, checking out the venue and dealing with the time-sensitive elements. The Idols and anyone not needed were all passed out at the current hotel, the buses dropping them off and Angie making sure everyone was checked in and set up.

Some part of him was relieved Adam, Jack, and everyone bloody else hadn’t seen this yet. Angela alone would just throw a shit fit.

And right after… It’d only been a few days and Harry had been remarkably good at avoiding Adam. Yeah, this was not a good time for this.

“You okay, hon?” Lisa asked.

Harry shook his head, “This is ridiculous. Bloody hell.”

“It’ll blow over fast. It’s just gossip with nothing behind it,” Henry pointed out. “Anyone want another cup of coffee?”

Harry offered a twisted half-smile, “Right. Blow over.” He’d been there before. It would blow over. Until the next big incident that made everything resurface. And those times in the wizarding world there had been nothing behind the rumors, but this time…

Rock Star Idol’s Relationship with Roadie: Love Boat Rocking on Rough Waters

The full-page photo showed a distorted image of Harry pulling out from under Adam’s arm. It was from the bar a few day ago when they’d gone drinking with Rob and Ellie. Adam had casually slipped his arm around Harry’s shoulder on the way to The General’s. Harry had still been pissed—still was a bit pissed, thank-you—because fuck, he had felt used.

And here was the tabloid to top of the perfect evening. Fuck fuck fuck.

Is Adam Lambert in a loveless affair with uncaring roadie? More PHOTOS INSIDE, and the EXCLUSIVE story!!!

Harry flipped open to the “exclusive” story. The pictures were of the meet and greet from DC. A charming one of Adam yanking on the back of his pants… An arm snuggly wrapped around his waist… One where Harry was giving Adam a surprisingly dirty look. …their “sneaking” out through the back door. Oh Merlin, and then there was the bar and the club. A picture of Harry in Marco’s arms, of Adam and Harry leaving Apex… He glanced through the article, hissed in disgust, and snapped it shut. He’d have to read it for details and damage control, but he could put it off for an hour at least. He had work to finish.

Thank god the Idol tour was stocked up with a couple PR managers, Angie who was a vicious bitch when she had to be, and Jack who would decapitate anyone who threatened the safety of the tour. Between them, Harry was confident they could kill this quickly.

They had to. Harry was not going to be another scandal for Adam to deal with. And vice versa.

----------

Harry lowered the magazine, eyebrow arching in silent interest as he listened to the interview developing over the office intercom.

“Can’t wait to hear your album. You certainly make it sound hot. Now I have to ask, any truth to these tabloid rumors flying around?”

Harry heard Adam chuckle before speaking, “Which tabloid rumors are you asking about?”

The interviewer rolled with it. “There are quite a few, aren’t there? I was referring to the latest reoccurring theme. There are quite a few candid photos of you and one Harry Grey floating around.”

“Yeah, there are. Harry and I are good friends. He works on the tour. We spend a lot of time together. We all become close when cooped up together for so long.”

“But you two are especially close? You’ve been seen going out dancing, interviews, out at Starbucks… I understand he’s with you today? Of course, it’s no secret you’re gay, with that infamous Rolling Stone cover—”

“We go out and party every once and awhile, yeah, when we have the time, which we usually don’t. Today we’re working. He’s playing my assistant until I meet up with the busses again tomorrow.”

“Your schedule must be pretty insane. You have a concert tomorrow. What are you two still doing in New York?”

“It’s hard to leave such a vibrant city!” Adam joked. “Pretty hectic, yeah. But I had a photo shoot and this interview, of course, and I get to meet a couple people about my album later today before catching some early flight out to meet up with the tour.”

“And you and Grey are…”

“Friends,” Adam supplied. Harry could picture his easy smile, and suspected he was mentally adding an ‘according to one of us’ at the end of the one-word answer.

“The reason Grey’s the one who is ‘playing’ assistant is because,”

“He’s qualified?” Adam said. “Aside from that you’d have to ask our tour manage, who arranges these things.”

“If you two were more—”

“Hey, I don’t kiss and tell.” Adam laughed, “Usually.”

“Alright, I don’t know if that’s going to satisfy listeners, but why don’t we find out? Fans have been calling in the past hour, hoping to get the chance to talk to you.”

“Would love to,” Adam said without missing a beat.

“Adam will be here answering questions from his fans right after this word from our sponsors. Hang tight.”

Harry shook his head and went back to the article on the latest excavation in Israel, some sarcophagus or another. Ten minutes later Adam came strolling out of the booth. He caught Harry’s eye and winked before shaking the host’s hand.

Harry stood as his charge strolled over. “We’ve got a couple hours to kill before you’re due to meet Martin. Lunch?”

“Sounds great. Wanna walk?” Adam asked. He pressed the lift button and tucked his hands in his pockets.

“We rented a car for a reason,” Harry said.

“It’s a beautiful day in New York,” Adam said. “We should walk.”

“If you want to walk, let’s take the stairs,” Harry said. He veered for the stairwell. “The lift’s been haywire all day from what the receptionist says. How about that café, what, eight blocks down? The one you said had the eclectic vibe this morning?”

“Perfect. We can head down that cute shopping strip on the way there.” Adam tugged his sunglasses off the collar of his shirt, sliding them on as Harry held the door open for him. “What’d you think of the interview?”

“I thought the interviewer was a nosy bugger,” Harry said. “Otherwise wasn’t paying attention.”

“You wound me.” Adam fell in step with him as they weaved their way through the crowded streets.

“That’s why you’ve put your arm around my shoulder then? Injury?” Harry said. “I was thinking about Egypt.”

“That’s random,” Adam said. “What about Egypt is more interesting than me?”

“You want me to start a list?” Harry teased.

“You’re awful for the ego.”

“Your ego is fine without my help. I was thinking about a friend of mine. He works on digs, usually in Egypt. This dig in a Geographic magazine got me thinking about it.”

“Is that where your interest in Egypt comes from?” Adam asked.

“Yeah, my friend, Bill, works with artifacts. He was always talking about it when I saw him. Offered to take me along on a dig once,” Harry said.

Adam looked impressed. “Did you?”

“Yeah, just to get away from life for awhile,” Harry admitted. “It was brilliant. Hot, lots of sand. Lots of things I didn’t understand. But Bill got me access to the tomb they were excavating and I learned a lot.”

“Shit. That would be sick. How long was it?” Adam slowed their pace down as they came across a few vintage clothing shops. He glanced down at Harry.

“A few months, not very long,” Harry said. “You do not want that shirt, do you?”

“The paisley one? Nah, I’m not feeling it. The abstract ones though, they’ve got something working for them.”

“Right,” Harry said skeptically.

“I need to take you shopping,” Adam said. “Get you into something that isn’t a t-shirt and jeans.”

Harry tugged reflexively on his plain grey shirt. “You’re one to talk.”

“My shirts have some design. And I accessorize. And I wear leather every other night. You’re always in those jeans and tees.” Adam’s hand slid down to tug at Harry’ waistband. “Maybe some leather? Hm, or a nice suit. You’d look stunning in a classic black suit.”

“I like my jeans,” Harry said, pulling Adam’s hand off his arse. “And if you try to start dressing me we will never shake off this blossoming media attention.”

“That might be true. A fan asked about you,” Adam said nonchalantly. “Asked if you were my boyfriend.”

“In the interview? I don’t remember that.”

“Earlier, at the signing the other day.”

“And you said no,” Harry said. After a pause and no response from Adam, “Right?”

“I said I was working on it,” Adam said. He slanted a glance at Harry.

Harry froze for half a pace, his only visible reaction. “You what? Why would you do that?”

“I wasn’t going to lie,” Adam shrugged one shoulder. He picked up his pace, veering toward a window display. “How sick is that?”

Harry came to a halt beside him. “You want a purple pinstripe suit?” He stared at the mannequin, looking over the purple vest with sharply ironed white button up shirt under it and down the straight purple pants with the black thread embellishments. “It’s not about lying, it’s about being sensible.”

Adam made a noncommittal noise. “But it is hot. You would look—”

“No,” Harry said flatly. It reminded him of bureaucrats in an unpleasant way. He moved on, hoping Adam would follow him and not try to head into the shop.

Adam did catch up, lacing their fingers together. “Almost lost you. You’re too short, get behind one or two people and become untraceable. So why didn’t you keep working in Egypt?”

“The dig ended.” Harry glanced around the towering buildings as they made their way along the pavement. “The experience encouraged me to travel though. It’s what made me decide to travel through America, bits of Canada and Mexico too.”

“How long have you been wandering America?” Adam asked.

“Ah… bloody hell, seven years already. Doesn’t feel like it,” Harry said. “I pop home to visit friends every now and then, but largely I sort of fell off the map.”

“That’s good, family’s good. I didn’t think you kept in touch. They must worry about you,” Adam said. “I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t reach my family.”

Harry chuckled, “A couple of them have my phone number and can reach me if they really want to. Mostly we’re okay knowing we’re all alive and off somewhere. Is touring odd then? Being out of touch from everyone? You call your mum fairly often, don’t you?”

“I call everyone whenever I can,” Adam said, squeezing Harry’s hand. “Danielle especially, and mom. I miss my girls like crazy.”

“And Brad,” Harry prompted, trying to casually tug his hand free. He’d heard a few Brad stories from Adam. From what he could gather they’d dated and he couldn’t quite figure out why they’d broken up.

Adam grinned, “Brad is one of my girls.”

“Oh, sex change?” That would explain breaking up. Adam burst out laughing. He dropped Harry’s hand, clutching his sides. Harry turned to stare at him. “Something is funny. Alright, not a sex change then?” Adam’s laughter doubled.

When he caught his breath he shook his head. He wiped at his eyes, absently pushing his sunglasses to rest on top of his head. “Oh my god, tears. Thank god for water-proof eyeliner. Shit, that was…”

“Funny,” Harry said.

Adam giggled. “Brad hasn’t had a sex change since last I saw him.”

“…one of your girls?” Harry prompted.

Adam’s face was near splitting from the size of his grin. “You’re really clueless about gay club culture, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Harry said.

Adam shook his head, “What about Marco? And your friends in DC? That’s club culture, baby.”

Harry laughed, “Marco’s Marco, who likes to go dancing, mix drinks, and pry home-cooking out of me. Never really thought much past that.”

“Alright, home-cooking is not a club thing. You cook?” Adam asked, watching Harry with glittering eyes and raised eyebrows. “Any way I can get in on some of that action?”

“On and off, when I can. Marco likes these pecan biscuits I make. But he also thinks drinking out of a patent leather pump is brilliant.” When Adam broke down laughing again Harry fought back a smile, “I’m really not joking.”

“It’s really overrated,” Adam said, catching his breath.

“You haven’t!” Harry started laughing.

Adam beamed down at him, “Have. I wouldn’t recommend it. Doesn’t even help to be high.”

Harry leaned into him, “Mer-god, you’re all nuts, you know. All you ‘club boys.’”

“What is that?” Adam asked.

“What?” Harry asked.

“That ‘mer’ thing, you’re always stopping yourself from saying,” Adam said.

Harry tensed, “Oh. It’s—you noticed?”

He missed Adam’s smile, too busy staring at the pavement. “It’s distinct.”

“It’s just an expletive I’ve been trying to kick for awhile, something from my schooldays,” Harry said.

“What is it? M-e-r? I’ve never heard a cuss that starts that way.”

“Merde?” Harry tried.

Adam snorted, “Does not count.”

“It could—”

“Nope.”

“I do speak some French,” Harry said. He leveled a challenging stare at Adam.

Adam’s eyes lit up, “You do? Conversationally?”

Harry felt like he walked into a trap somehow. Sudden bursts of enthusiasm from Adam tended to worry him. He hesitated. “Some.”

“Say something in French?” Adam asked. His attention was trained entirely on Harry.

“Do you speak French then?” Harry asked, thinking sidetracking him might work.

“Not the faintest,” Adam smiled. “Love the language though. You pick up phrases here and there. Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?”

Harry blinked blankly before he processed the words. His eyes widened. “Ah. Do you—er, you do know what that means, right?”

Adam started laughing at his expression, “God, Harry, of course I do.” He covered his face, shoulders shaking. When he looked back at Harry there were tears of mirth in the corners of his eyes. “You’re going to kill me at this rate.”

“I’m going to kill you?” Harry asked with a huff. “You just asked me to sleep with you.”

“Will you?” Adam asked.

“No,” Harry said. “And to be honest, no Frenchman will either.”

“What?” Adam’s eyebrow arched, “Why not? Too rude?”

“Too formal,” Harry said.

“Formal?” Adam repeated.

Harry nodded, “Too rude would be, I don’t know.” He squinted at the pavement. “Baise-moi, really.” Adam coughed suddenly, and if Harry didn’t know better he would guess he was choking. “I take it you know that phrase too.”

“Yeah, aren’t curses the first thing you learn in any language?” Adam said, somewhat breathless. He cleared his throat. “You sound like you’ve used the phrase before.”

“Long, long story involving Bill, his wife, and some embarrassing incidences with alcohol.” Harry just knew he was turning red. Adam’s intent stare wasn’t helping. “Subject change,” he said helplessly after a minute.

Adam huffed softly and they walked silently until he gasped a minute later. “Right! One, those shoes are sick.” He pulled Harry over to another shop window, arm still tucked around his waist. “The leopard print ones. Two,” he caught Harry’s eyes in the window reflection, “this all started because you have a cuss word that isn’t merde. Care to enlighten your captive audience?”

Harry stared at Adam’s reflection. He sighed a second later, “Right. Fine. It’s Merlin.”

“Merlin?” Adam sounded incredulous.

“Yeah. Would you mind not telling the others? It’s just a thing with me,” Harry said.

“Why… Yeah, okay. But,” Adam paused. “Merlin?”

“It’s from my—”

“Schooldays. Okay,” Adam said. “Is that a big phrase? It doesn’t sound overly… And I don’t ever remember hearing that when I was in Britain.”

“Very specific part of Britain,” Harry said. “Scotland, more like. Very distinct, very small area.”

“And you don’t want people hearing you say it?” Adam said.

“Sort of sets me out,” Harry explained.

Adam sighed, sounding more than a little exasperated. The arm around Harry’s waist pulled him in a little closer. “What is your thing with being different? Difference is a good thing.”

“I like being different,” Harry objected. “Usually I do anyway. I also like to keep a bit of a low profile. Sometimes it’s nice not being noticed, love.”

Adam’s tone said he disagreed completely, “That’s why you want to be ‘just friends’ in public?”

Harry frowned, “We are just friends.”

“We’re more than friends, Harry,” Adam said. “We’ve flirted, we’ve kissed, we’re on a date right now—”

“—this is not a date, I’m your handler for the day—”

“We got off on each other in a club bathroom only a week ago,” Adam finished. “And fine, this is not technically a date, but it would be if you would let it. But this whole media thing turns you into one shy guy.”

“It’s not wrong to want to stay out of the tabloids. And also keep from hurting your career, might I add. And anyway, did you ever think I was protecting you? Protecting both of us?”

“Protecting us from what?” Adam pulled up to a stop in front of the eccentric little café. He let go of Harry just to turn and stare at him.

“Your career is just taking off,” Harry said. “You don’t need to be distracted by a boyfriend with a lot of media issues and a habit of collecting secrets.”

“I don’t care,” Adam said. “Look, Harry, I pursue what interests me. You interest me. At the end of the day, I don’t care what people will say about it. As for secrets, that’s one of the fun things about you.”

“My secrets,” Harry snorted.

“Yeah,” He smiled a little, eyes bright. “I bet you’re a lot easier to read than you think you are.”

“Easier to read,” Harry said.

“Yeah.”

“I am not.”

“That annoys the fuck out of you, doesn’t it?” Adam said smugly.

“Tosser,” Harry said.

“You like your secrets.”

Harry looked startled, “No-o. Just. Hell. Can we drop this and grab something to eat?”

Adam was far too triumphant when he stepped up to the door and pulled it open for Harry. “You’re a sphinx and you like it.”

Harry ignored him. He did not like his secrets. He just didn’t know how to go about explaining them. Only he couldn’t really explain that to Adam without explaining the secrets, which was the problem in itself, wasn’t it? The prat.

----------

The café was dim, multicolored bulbs providing little light, but a distinct air. A bar ran the length of one wall and a couple dozen tables filled out the rest of the space. In every spare space sat a potted plant or large tank with exotic fish. The entire murky atmosphere reminded Adam vaguely of more than a few clubs. Harry moved forward, heading toward the back, and he followed slowly, enjoying the view. He loved how Harry decided things and just did them. It was a refreshing change from Adam’s current position, where everyone seemed to look to him for a decision about everything. Even picking out a simple café table felt like a big deal. Still, he had to ask,

“The place is half empty and we’re sitting by,” he tilted his chair back and craned around to peer down the dark hallway, “the bathrooms and the kitchen?”

Harry blinked, startled. “Sorry, did you want to move? It’s habit, really.”

Adam quirked an eyebrow, “Habit to sit by the kitchen, baby?” That was one for the record books, in his opinion.

Harry cleared his throat and smiled at the approaching waitress. After they ordered drinks, he turned back to Adam. “The back door,” He nodded toward the kitchen, “Would be through there. It’s habit.”

Adam clued in. “To have an escape route that isn’t the front door.” That spoke of either a lot of experience or a lot of paranoia. He watched his companion contemplatively until Harry was fidgeting and frowning under his scrutiny.

“Did you want to move then?” He asked.

“No, this is good. You’re full of surprises,” Adam half shrugged. He thanked the waitress as she set his tea in front of him and glanced past her toward the front of the café. A minute later he had to ask, “Is it just me or do those women keep eyeing us?”

“The four about halfway to the front?” Harry asked without looking up from the menu. “From the moment we stepped through the door.”

Adam nudged him with his boot, causing him to look up. “You didn’t even look. You saw them from the start?” His eyebrow quirked up, sunglasses still perched atop his floppy black hair. A smile tugged at his lips. Alright, Harry was less paranoid and more aware then. “I thought Jack was exaggerating about your security experience.”

Harry shook his head, “If I didn’t have some experience Jack would never trust your welfare to me.”

“So?” Adam nudged him again. “What sort of experience?”

“Security,” Harry said.

“Boo,” Adam pouted. He was dying from curiosity of one of the many secrets of Harrison Grey. This is what their problem was, wasn’t it? Communicating new information? “Details, baby, I want details.”

“I know what you want,” Harry said. He fell silent as the waitress came back.

She cleared her throat and glanced between them. “Are you ready to order?”

“Five more minutes, please,” Adam said with a wink.

“Flirt,” Harry said before looking back up at him. “What would you—oh great, this will be interesting.”

Adam followed Harry’s gaze. “Oh.” The four girls were heading over. They came to a halt at the table.

“Uh, hello,” The first, a brunette spoke. The others followed with various hellos. “I’m Jeanie and this is, Becca, Clarissa, and Steph. You’re…”

Adam gave a small wave and smile, “Adam. And this is Harry.”

Jeanie bounced a little, “I know! Oh my god, it’s really you.”

“I told you he was still in New York!” Becca said happily at the back. “Could we get your autograph?”

“Yeah, of course! Ah,” Adam shifted and wiggled, hips slanting up as he patting his pockets. Harry cleared his throat and offered him a sharpie. Adam beamed at him, “Thanks, baby.”

Harry watched as one of the girls elbowed another in the side. “Did you see—”

“Yeah,” The other hissed back. She edged in closer. “Mind if I take a picture?” She angled it to get both Adam and Harry, the flash going off. “How long are you two here for?”

“Why are you here?” The blonde, Clarissa asked.

Adam signed the last proffered item, a small keychain teddy bear. “I’m meeting with a producer about my upcoming album. We’re heading back to the tour later tonight.”

“What, no fun before you go back? Private room and all,” Jeanie said, grinning and looking between them.

“Completely inappropriate,” Harry said firmly and kicked Adam under the table as he laughed.

“Not that inappropriate,” Adam said, quickly burying his smile behind a drink of his iced tea.

“Yes, it is,” Harry said.

“So you’re not sleeping together?” Clarissa sounded put out. She took another picture.

“Nope,” Adam said before Harry got the chance. He didn’t know who to keep an eye on, the fans or Harry. Harry was producing some funny – okay, hysterical – faces. He suspected he wouldn’t appreciate Adam bursting into laughter.

“Why not?” Becca asked Harry.

“Okay, that might’ve been inappropriate,” Adam shook his head. He returned his full attention to the girls. “Not that I didn’t totally like the question.”

“Any fan questions that don’t involve my sex life?” Harry asked.

“Could we get a picture with?” Jeanie’s head tilted toward Adam.

“That I don’t mind in the slightest.” Harry said much to his surprise, and accepted the camera from Clarissa. He caught a gleam of amused satisfaction in the roadie’s eyes as he stood to pose with the girls. Didn’t Harry know any better? Adam loved posing with his fans. He winked at Harry and was forced to bite his lip to keep from laughing as Harry rolled his eyes. Adam stood with all four girls, bouncy and happy as they all posed for the camera.

He resettled into his seat with, “It was great meeting all of you.” Only they didn’t leave. He only peripherally caught Harry’s smirk as Adam blinked up at them. “Was there something else?”

“So, if the rumors about you two aren’t true,” Jeanie ventured, “I mean, is it true you have a crush on Kris?”

“He’s married,” Becca said. “To a girl.”

“They could still be sleeping together,” Clarissa said.

“We’re just friends,” Adam said, amazed the Kris rumors were still alive and thriving despite all evidence to the contrary. “Good friends, but,”

Harry interrupted him. “That does it. You don’t need to answer that, Adam. Really, if there aren’t any more questions, would you mind letting us eat?”

“It’s okay, Harry.” Adam’s hand rested on his thigh under the table, squeezing gently. “Ladies, really it was lovely to meet you, but—”

“Would you mind leaving us in peace?” Harry asked as politely as he could.

“Hey, there’s no reason to be rude,” Jeanie said with a frown.

“Rude?” Harry’s eyebrows moved up. “Adam signed your things and answered your questions. In my opinion it’s rather rude to come up to people when they’re trying to have lunch and barging in on them asking inappropriate questions.”

“Oh, they are so sleeping together,” Clarissa squeaked excitedly.

Harry’s frown deepened, and before Adam knew it he was snagging Adam’s wrist and pulled him up out of the chair, dropping a twenty on the table. “C’mon. We’re not sitting through this shit.”

“We just want to ask you two a few questions,” Clarissa said. She took another picture. “If you don’t mind.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Harry grumbled. He pulled Adam along the back toward the kitchen doors.

“We’re taking the escape route?” Adam asked, trying to smother his irritation.

“I don’t want them following us onto the street,” Harry said, tone brittle.

What the hell? Adam waved apologetically as they passed their waitress. “Hey, wait, you can’t go back there!” She called, an alarmed look on her face as they passed her coming out of the kitchen.

“Sorry,” Harry called over his shoulder, “Really have to.”

“Um, Harry,” Adam said to his back. “Where are we going?” He was following right at Harry’s back, close enough Harry could feel the taller man’s body heat, his wrist still clutched in Harry’s fingers. God, the man was near possessed, and this take-command decision-making wasn’t so much fun.

“I don’t like paparazzi. And it’s my job to protect you from excessive fan ‘friendliness,’” Harry said. They continued their way through to the back of the kitchen, ignoring the startled looks and exclamations from the servers and cooks. At the back, right where he said it would be, was a doorway into the alley.

“They weren’t too bad,” Adam objected quietly.

“Don’t defend that sort of shitty behavior, Adam,” Harry said, a growl low in his throat.

“I don’t like it when you’re rude to my fans—” Adam’s frustration was growing.

Harry pushed the door open, pulling Adam outside with him. He breathed a heavy sigh as they hit the dank but brightly lit air. He twisted around to look at him. “Don’t you dare defend that invasion of space.”

“They were a little inappropriate, yeah, but that doesn’t mean you go tearing into them like they’re criminals or something,” Adam snapped. “Fuck, Harry, why—”

“How can you excuse them for treating you like you’re public property?” Harry demanded.

“I don’t, but I know I signed up for that too,” Adam said. “I get where they’re coming from, they just want to meet me.”

“I didn’t. And they don’t.” He stepped closer, shoving a finger at Adam’s chest. “They want to know about things you never signed up to share. You signed up to sing.”

Adam frowned and caught the hand. “You didn’t what?”

The briefest feeling of confusion flashed across Harry’s face before he seemed to catch up with the question. “I didn’t sign up for it.” He was watching Adam closely through the locks of hair that tumbled across his forehead. Adam was sure Harry caught the sudden spike of annoyance that crashed through him, because he tried tugging his hand free, stepping back from Adam only to bump into the dumpster a few feet off the café’s back exit.

Adam’s fingers tightened around Harry’s caught fist, refusing to let go. So Adam was pissed. He had a right to be. “Why do you have such a problem letting people see you? See who you are? Who cares if they judge you? That doesn’t matter!”

“Are you kidding?” Harry yanked this time, managing to get his hand free of Adam’s grip. “I don’t care about that.”

Adam snorted, “You don’t? Come on, that’s been your biggest hang-up with us since the start!”

“With us?”

“You and me.” Adam waved between them. “Us. All the media attention, dealing with everyone’s judgments.”

“I don’t care about being judged,” Harry said tightly.

“Come on, Harry,” Adam said. He knew he should probably drop this, wait until they were both calmer, but fuck. He’d been waiting, and things never changed between them. Harry never elucidated his thoughts, his problems. More often than not it felt like he avoided Adam. He really, really hated that. He hated the idea that Harry didn’t want to be seen with him, judged by others for being with him. “You avoid it like the plague. You avoid me when there’s even a chance we’ll be photographed together. It’s pretty fucking obvious you don’t want everyone judging you for who you are.”

Harry’s jaw clenched and his fists were curling and uncurling against his thighs. “For the last time. I. Do. Not. Care. About. Being. Judged.”

“Then what?” Adam demanded. “What is it? What is so fucking bad about being seen in public? With me? Being loving, Harry? Just loving.” He ran his fingers through his hair, dropping back against the alley wall suddenly as the energy drained out of him. “You could really make a guy feel shitty about himself, you know? Fuck.”

If his eyes hadn’t been slit open, watching Harry with exhausted frustration, he would have missed the flinch and the way Harry’s shoulders slumped, as if the energy escaped him as fast as it abandoned Adam.

Harry let out a slow, ragged breath. “I don’t mean that. Not ever, Adam. You’re, of course you’re brilliant. It’s not about being judged, or caring what anyone thinks. I don’t care what they think. I just don’t…”

Adam pushed himself off the alley wall, stepping up closer to Harry. He ghosted his fingers along Harry’s jaw. “Okay. Okay.” It was hard as hell to catch Harry’s eye when they were this close, what with the five or six inches he had on him, but this, this was too important. This, they were talking, and this was progress, and he felt like he was finally connecting. Harry’s head tilted up, the tips of Adam’s cool fingertips grazing his skin. He dipped a little lower, pressing his forehead to Harry’s. “If it’s not me—”

“It’s not.”

“—then what? Why does attention freak you out so much, baby?”

They were too close. Adam was staring into Harry’s eyes, and Harry was staring back, but they were too close, eyes dilating, their vision blurring together, a melding of blue and black and pale skin. Harry’s breath pressed hot, damp, quick puffs along his cheeks. Adam tried to mentally calm the jittery, adrenaline-shaken nerves they were both feeling.

“It’s not the judgments. It’s the attention,” Harry said finally, speaking softly. “It’s the way people force themselves in. As is they have the right to know.” He pulled away abruptly and began pacing the dark end of the alley they’d escaped into. “As if I am any of their business, as if I have no right to have privacy of my own. My life just belongs to them. It’s, I get tired of people looking at me for, for answers and for curiosity, like an experiment. Like,” He waved his arm widely through the air.

Adam caught it and caught Harry when he jumped and twisted around in surprise.

“I—”

“I get it.” Adam leaned in and kissed him, one hand still caught around Harry’s arm, the other finding its way along his jaw again. His fingers wound slowly into Harry’s hair, just at the base of his skull. “I get it,” he hummed again, because that seemed important to stress as he traced his lips lightly across Harry’s own before pressing deeper. He did get it, the way some people looked at him as though now that he was famous he was less than human, had fewer rights.

Harry didn’t hesitate. He pushed in closer, free arm curling around Adam’s back and holding tightly. His mouth slid open at the silent entreaty. Heat seared through Adam at the soft, happy moan that seemed to start at the base of Harry’s chest and poured out against his mouth.

When they pulled apart Adam wasn’t sure how much time elapsed, seconds or hours, but they were twined more fully around each other. Adam was tracing happy patterns under Harry’s shirt along his back, one leg pressed comfortably between Harry’s own, feeling the heat of Harry’s body radiating against his entire body through the thin t-shirt and jeans.

Harry clenched his fingers in Adam’s shirt, resting his forehead against his chest. “I am so bad for you.”

Adam smiled into the mop of messy black hair. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one, huh?”

Harry groaned, “I just told you I hate fame and stuck my tongue down your throat. What exactly is good about that?”

Adam laughed. “One, I stuck my tongue down your throat. Two, it is none of their business. Think you could work with me on that one? Ignoring the assholes and the idly curious and the genuinely nice fans to just live our lives? Three, ah… Three… So, for now, one and two good enough?”

Harry chuckled against his chest. “Until I figure out how to argue with you, suppose so.”

Adam shook his head, “You’re more than capable of arguing with me. Even when you shouldn’t.” He was borderline pouting about that, but now wasn’t really the time for playing that out. He tightened his grip around Harry. “We’re good for each other. When are you going to work that one out, baby?”

He felt Harry smile and then felt the heavy, hot breath of a sigh. “You don’t know me, Adam.”

“I do,” Adam said immediately. The head shook in negation under his chin. “Yes, I do. You’re stubborn. You’re crazy loyal. Sometimes you’re just crazy. You don’t like lying. You have friends everywhere, you have family in Britain, but you don’t really like Britain. You love Eastern art. You’re obsessed with chai lattes. You like me even if you refuse to admit it. You have ninja skills or are at least persuasive enough to convince Jack you do. You’re more than a little paranoid. You don’t seem to get relationships are hard. Good, but sometimes hard. And you’re an amazing kisser.”

“Mer-god-Merlin. Fuck. Something.” Harry’s grip tightened around Adam’s back briefly before he let go. “We have to go. Get the bloody car, and you have a meeting, remember?”

“With my producer extraordinaire,” Adam nodded, but he held on to Harry. “We okay?”

Harry looked up into his eyes, startled, “Yeah. Yeah, we’re okay.”

“After our meeting, wanna hole up at the hotel?” Adam curled his fingers lightly along the base of Harry’s neck, playing with the hairs there.

Harry shook his head slightly, “You’re stubborn. We have to be at the airport early. International flight, remember? And we both need sleep.”

“I was thinking something along the lines of movie marathon. Whatever’s on TV,” Adam said. “But I like where your filthy mind was going much, much more.”

Harry swatted his arm half-heartedly. “God. Prat.”

“So it’s a date?”

“It’s a plan.”

Adam laughed.

----------

The death threats weren’t particularly thrilling.

Alright, to be fair, most of them made him laugh. No one really knew how to make them anymore. You had to do it with a decent amount of obsession, a lot of sick, twisted evil, and a bit of class.

Jack didn’t see the humor in it. No one saw the humor in it aside from Harry. Last time it came up in front of Adam the rock star was officially Not Amused by the whole thing, particularly Harry’s unheeding reaction.

Some of the threats alarmed Harry, but not in a way that actually concerned him. He didn’t feel threatened. After tracking a half-human half-something-else that was bent on destroying his soul across four countries and nearly losing his life two dozen times in ten years… It just didn’t faze him.

How was he supposed to get upset about death letters—and a death postcard—clearly written by semi-illiterate girls ranging from thirteen to seventeen years old? A few were decent: correct spelling and grammar, full sentences, physically possible threats. A few genuinely surprised him. They were from the creeps who you needed to keep an eye on, but not truly worry about. Mostly he just wanted to buy these kids a dictionary each, and maybe some beginner readers.

Adam was pushing Jack to set up some security for him. Jack wasn’t really arguing the point. The main manager, Angela, was the one fighting it. Angela was Harry’s champion. If Harry got anything resembling security, he was leaving and that was that. Like he needed more attention drawn to him. Fans would start thinking he was somebody. As Allison would say, ‘do not want!’

He was going to bloody have to sit Adam down and explain this. Jack too, apparently, despite the obvious fact that Jack already thought Harry had security experience.

Merlin, he was going to have to sit them down and tell them one of his infamous stories. Maybe the one about being stalked by a freak of nature. That should calm them down. Maybe.

Really, how was he supposed to take death threats from teenagers seriously? He only wished they would stop so everyone would stop worrying, and so that the attention on him would die down. It didn’t help that the threats made Adam more attentive and clingy than ever. He didn’t know if Adam felt responsible or simply worried, but he was working it so he could drag Harry to every single affair. Jack wasn’t fighting the plot either. It was their little scheme to get around Angie’s security veto. Harry would have to talk to Angie too.

The one plus was Jack’s observation and interference. Adam was making vast efforts to keep Harry by his side, but Jack knew as well as Harry that it would only draw more attention. So even though Harry was tagging along on more outings than he really wanted to, Jack was making sure he kept between the two of them so no one could snap another intimate shot of them positively wrapped around one other.

It was a relief from the media. To be honest it was also a relief from Adam, who Harry was still confused about and a little upset with. Possibly in a denial about just a tiny little bit. He was ready to go off at the idiot again for sneaking around behind his back looking for information. Only he knew if he did, the whole club incident would come up again. So far Adam had been nice enough not to bring it up much. Just the once, during the alley scene. Harry had to admit to himself Adam was remarkably restrained and thoughtful, considering his professed interest. In his shoes, Harry was sure he would have gone off by now. But if Harry went stirring the pot he was sure it would all come tumbling out in the open.

There was one other tiny little problem about confronting Adam. Sneaking around was about the only road Harry left open for anyone to figure him out. He wasn’t exactly an open book, and he knew it. It mellowed his anger, a little. The guilt of that simple fact ate at him, because hell. Adam—all of the crew were good people. Harry was lying to their faces every day to protect himself. He couldn’t handle getting into his insane past with anyone, let alone muggles who didn’t know anything about it. It didn’t stop him from being a liar. A liar with a guilt complex the size of the UK… And an intense desire to forget all about it.

If it all came out, Harry didn’t know what he would do. Keeping Adam safe, making sure he didn’t get embroiled in Harry’s tumultuous life, was paramount. If push came to shove, Harry didn’t know if he could stay. He didn’t want to do that to Adam.

A week and a half in and hell yes, the death threats were less than thrilling.

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Part 1 || Part 3