Coup de Foudre - Part 5

[eaivalefay]

Coup de Foudre - Part 5


Jack met them halfway down to the buses from the lobby. He pointed at Harry, “You’re late.” Then he was turning toward Adam. “You’re moving.” He grabbed up the duffle off Adam’s shoulder. “Let’s get moving, kids. The buses roll out in fifteen. Angie isn’t pleased you two were off the radar the last half hour.”

They glanced at each other.

“I sent a text off,” Harry said without much concern. “What do you mean—”

“I’m moving?” Adam finished for him. He tangled a hand in Harry’s jeans casually, warm fingers pressing against his skin, tugging him closer as they jogged across the lobby in Jack’s wake. More jogging on Harry’s part, he noted, and long strides on Adam’s.

“Bale,” Jack shot over his shoulder, voice only loud enough to carry back to them. “After the sighting in the theatre yesterday, and he was seen by three crew around the buses last night. Specifically, Adam’s bus. It’s been checked over half a dozen times—”

“Why wasn’t I called?” Harry demanded. It annoyed him that anything happened with Bale and he was out of the loop. He should be the first on it. He needed to keep Bale away from everyone.

Jack glanced back at him, eyes amused. “It’s not strictly your job. But I did call you. There was no answer. You weren’t in your room either. Brian said you ducked out after having a few.”

Shit. So he completely lost his footing in that fight. Adam bumped against him. Harry glanced up to see Adam’s questioning gaze. He smiled reassuringly up at him and felt reassured in return. He tried to ease the tension out of his shoulders.

Jack was still shooting him glances, only now they included Adam. Harry glared back, eyebrow arching.

“God, I hate when you do that, Jack,” Adam whined at his side. “It’s annoying as fuck.”

“Do what?” Jack asked.

“That whole silent conversation thing. I could swear you just went on a five minute ‘I know what you did last night’ speech,” Adam grumbled.

“That’s not just me?” Harry said, “It’s maddening isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Adam said emphatically.

“Don’t blame me for your guilt trips, kids.” Jack pulled up in front of the doors leading to the private parking lot. “Anything you’d like to say before we reach the others? What you two were doing last night?”

Harry shook his head mutely. “Never mind that. What about Bale?”

Jack glanced at Adam, who half shrugged and said, “My conscience is clear. Guilt trip, ha.”

“Bale was around Adam’s bus. It’s fine, but it means he’s distinguished your bus. The boys are moving off it. The girls are moving on, it’s already been switched. Meanwhile, since you two or Kris seems to be the focus of Bale’s attention, we’re isolating you three together on Harry’s bus.” Jack looked between them, waiting for any sign of acknowledgement. “It should throw Bale off to have you elsewhere.”

“The bus sleeps six,” Harry said. “Adding two makes it a bit overcrowded, Jack.” He tried to discern whether this was good or bad news. On the one hand, Adam would be on Harry’s bus, where Harry could keep him safe. On the other hand, Adam would be on Harry’s bus… And Harry wouldn’t be safe from Adam. He was not sure he was ready for so much more close contact.

“We can squeeze?” Adam suggested. “It worked pretty well the other night.”

Harry elbowed him in the side. “I am not sharing a bloody tiny cubicle of sleeping space for the next four weeks, thanks.”

Jack cleared his throat, “Gary’s been moved off already. Jerome, Brian, and Leo have been informed and agree to risk what has already been dubbed the stalker bus.”

Harry groaned, “Great, that’s not an omen or anything.”

“Maybe it’s like knocking on wood.” Adam laughed. He knocked on Harry’s head and stared at him innocently when Harry looked up to glare.

Jack cleared his throat again. They turned to him. “Everything clear then?” When he got nods he continued, “Adam you go with Harry straight to the bus. Your things have been moved. Kris is loaded up already. Let’s roll.” He pushed open the door.

Harry leaned in closer to Adam despite himself and whispered, “This feels like a military drill.”

Adam smirked. “Jack’s secret ambition, being a drill sergeant.”

They dashed the hundred feet to the buses, moving at the same pace and staying close. It was only as they climbed onto the bus and were greeted by Kris’s curious expression that Harry realized Adam still had his hand snagged around Harry’s jeans. He hadn’t noticed as they were crossing the lot. But he recalled a few distant shots of cameras, one or two, and he knew they would see something about it in a few days, on fans’ blogs if nothing else.

The hand at the base of his back was reassuring.

----------

Harry was having one of those weeks. Only, he wasn’t sure it was contained to one single week and had this worrying feeling it was going to get worse. It only stood to reason, since the people driving him up a wall weren’t bound to go anywhere any time soon.

And he was quite comfortable laying blame for it all at the feet of one security head. Namely, Jack. Who was suspiciously pushing Adam and Harry together every chance he got. He kept making comments and eyeing Harry thoughtfully. It was driving him insane, so he laid in wait, an ambush, and the time had come to confront the man.

“Jack,” he said mildly, sliding out from behind the door of Jack’s makeshift office at the latest amphitheatre.

He barely glanced up at Harry from the newspaper he was reading. “I thought you would be off with Adam and Kris by now.”

“Kris got waylaid by Megan and took Adam with him.” He kicked the door shut and hooked his thumbs in his belt, waiting for Jack to continue, to say anything. Perhaps suddenly burst into confession and apologies. It would be nice.

Jack’s eyes flicked up to him. “You’re not with them?”

“They’re in the amphitheatre, in the back.” When Jack kept staring disapprovingly at him he added, “surrounded by half the crew. Everyone bustling back and forth. They are fine.”

“Ah.” He set down his newspaper. “I wanted to get both of them out for awhile. Adam in particular. Kris’s wife is coming out in a couple days and he can manage the schedule until then, but Adam, he could use some relief.”

“I needed to talk to you,” he started then stopped, because a thought occurred to him. “Going out for at best an hour before we need to be back here isn’t going to relax Adam.”

“Best we can manage under the circumstances.” He shrugged one heavy shoulder. “And you underestimate your influence on our rock star.”

“That’s absurd,” he replied. This, this was exactly what was driving him mad! Random comments like that, out of the blue. Little nudges and pushes from the mother hen they called their head security guard.

“Why don’t you go out for coffee?” Jack suggested, tossing the newspaper in the garbage bin. “There’s still a good half hour.”

Harry turned on him. “What?” At Jack’s questioning look he growled out, “‘Why don’t you go out for coffee?’” There was the possibility, he vaguely thought, that he was cracking under all the pressure too.

“Yes, as in, why don’t you go out with Adam for a cup of coffee.” He stared down at him in amusement. “Do you require further clarification?”

“What I require is for you to keep your bloody nose out of my affairs.” He stalked forward and jabbed a finger into his chest. “Making remarks and suggestions.”

Jack’s dark brown eyes dropped to the finger in his chest before looking back up into his face. Harry huffed a little, a silent, ‘yeah, I’m not backing down, what are you going to do about that?’

“Harry, it’s coffee,” he finally said. “Adam needs to unwind for five minutes. A cup of coffee will help him out.”

“Oh, get off your high horse, Jack,” he bit out. “This has nothing to do with Adam taking a break. Suddenly, out of the blue, you have reversed being against Adam and me to supporting the idea, and you’ve been bloody vocal about it too. Keep your nose out.”

Jack snorted. He stepped back from Harry and turned toward his makeshift desk, dropping his satchel on it and picking up a clipboard. “Ah, I see now. Are you telling me you two aren’t heading in that direction, Harry?”

Harry glared. “That’s not the point! Just because I’m a sinking ship does not mean I want you coming along and throwing more water on me! And I can do without your smart little comments too.”

“Smart little comments,” Jack said, expression bland.

“Yes. This ‘why don’t you go out for coffee’ nonsense,” he replied sharply.

“I didn’t realize that was smart, Harry.” Jack looked over his clipboard and signed the bottom. He flipped through a few more pages before tossing it back on the desk.

Harry continued to glare at him.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Jack said, staring right back.

“I want you to say you’ll stop,” Harry said.

“Do you feel I’m asking you to do anything outside the realms of work or friendship?” Jack asked.

“Excuse me?”

“To my knowledge I have neither said nor done anything inappropriate. However, if I see a benefit to the two of you kindling your flirting into something more substantial – if you haven’t already – you can’t blame a friend for caring, now can you?” Jack said calmly, sitting back against the makeshift desk.

Harry was having a hard time not staring at him with his jaw on the floor. “Excuse me?” He asked again.

“I thought that was pretty clear,” he said, arms crossed. “If there is anything else?”

He picked up his jaw. What the bleeding hell was he supposed to say to that? Aside from ‘mind your own business,’ which had failed spectacularly. “You were against us only a few months ago. I distinctly remember that.”

“I was,” Jack agreed.

“Now you’re for us.”

“To put it succinctly, yes.”

“What the hell happened to change your mind?” Harry honestly couldn’t think of a single thing that would.

Jack smiled slightly, fingers flexing at the edge of the desk. “I wasn’t sure at first, because Adam’s a flirt, and new to this business. As you know, he’s in for a crazy ride.”

“Why would I know that?” Harry asked a little too sharply.

He arched an eyebrow. “Celebrities are somehow your business. I haven’t pieced it all together yet, but I can tell that much. Celebrities and security. Not your standard bodyguard work, but something involving both.”

“Right, your hunches.” Harry smiled briefly despite himself. “Oh, bugger it. So you, what, disapproved because of Adam’s career? That hasn’t changed.”

Jack shook his head. “Because the variables were wrong for the two of you. But you’ve both made them work, lord knows how. Adam’s got a level head, bless his bubbly soul. And you… Well, Harry, you’ve got your secrets, that’s abundantly clear, but around our wonderboy you soften up a little. It’s something you need. You two are good for each other, whether you like it or not.”

Harry shook his head stubbornly, black hair flopping in his eyes before he brushed it away quickly. “I am not good for Adam.”

“Of course you are,” he said.

Harry leaned against the opposite wall from Jack’s desk. “Really.” He couldn’t wait to hear this one.

“Harry.” Jack looked like he was honest-to-Merlin trying not to laugh in his face. “You provide some level of normalcy Adam’s not getting anywhere else in his life, not even from his family. You’re grounding him while all the marvels of fame unfold in front of him.”

Harry could see his point, sort of. Fame hit people hard, even when they were prepared for it. Harry was used to it. But still, Jack wasn’t entirely correct. “His family isn’t getting caught up in all that, they’ve got him grounded more than I do, I’m positive.”

“They’re adjusting too,” he said simply. Harry shut up at Jack’s solemn expression. “They’re no more used to their son, or brother, or friend being famous than Adam is himself. All of them need some period of adjustment before they catch up with themselves. You though, you’re a veteran, like most of us who’ve been around the business awhile.” He watched Harry with a curious expression. “I’d have bet you experienced fame, but no one ever recognizes you and name searches turn up zero.”

“You’ve searched me?” Harry asked before thinking it through. Jack would naturally research Harry. He already knew he had, but his files were buried or simply didn’t exist under his assumed name. He smiled sheepishly. “Never mind, daft question.”

“If that answers your burning questions?” Jack straightened and nodded toward the door. “I have work, kiddo.”

“I’m not a kid—”

“Tough luck, kiddo,” Jack said, heading toward the door.

He still had a few questions, and a lot of grievances, but he knew when a conversation came to an end, especially one with Jack. As Harry made to leave, Jack caught his shoulder. “Think about that. You’re the only one Adam knows who isn’t in his situation and manages to treat him like a normal man, not a rock star. You’re doing more good for him than you know.”

Harry stared up at him before nodding slowly. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good.”

“Jack,” he added.

“Yes?”

“Cut back on your smart remarks.”

Jack snorted. “I’ll think about it.”

----------

That conversation still bugged the hell out of Harry. The more he thought about it, the more annoyed he got. Not because Jack was wrong, though he was, but because Jack thought he was right. And was still sticking his nose into things. With those damn insinuations. The comments. The suggestions to go out when they could. He had enough on his plate without dealing with Jack’s matchmaking.

He glanced around the parking lot as he headed off one of the loading docks. It was packed, filled with tour buses, semi trucks and several cars, but it was mostly quiet. A few of the staff moved from bus to truck or stood around on break, drinks and a few cigarettes on hand. Nearly everyone was in the amphitheatre. The idols would have finished up with their sound checks an hour ago and were meeting with a few interviewers. The crew would be shuffling around the last of the paraphernalia for the show tonight. Harry himself just got away, wanting to check most of the luggage was stored away and hide out on the bus for a few hours of quiet, if he could manage it.

Peace and quiet was something he had hadn’t seen in awhile. Well, fuck, it was his own fault. He knew that. His and Jack’s. And Adam’s. Probably partly the tour in general. And Bale, who maddened him the more time went on. He forced himself to stop next to his bus – still shared with Adam and Kris, for over a week now – and take a few slow, deep breaths.

No one ever really thought how crowded something like a tour was. Everyone lived out of each other’s pockets. Adam and Harry lived out of each other’s pockets before and now, on the same bus, Harry was ready to explode if he didn’t get some room to breathe. Kris, Leo, Jerry, and Brian didn’t help create any sense of space either.

He hauled open the storage compartments along the side of their home away from home, tallying baggage as he went. Everything was accounted for, anything else they had would be brought on the bus proper when they left that night.

He closed up the doors, making sure they were locked, before entering the code on the door and climbing up the steps into the cool interior. Silence, thank Merlin. He eyed the kitchen area with despair. Brian was a messy roommate. He never cleaned up after himself. Dishes, garbage, even clothing and a couple bags of ‘important’ crap all crowded out the little counter space available.

It was a sty, matching up with Harry’s complete and utter expectancy. He rolled his eyes as he tossed away the trash and dumped the few ceramic dishes in the small sink. He decided to ignore the cramped table littered with their accumulated property: a deck of cards; Leo’s phone; letters for Kris and Adam; a crop, definitely for Adam; a laptop; a box of Chinese from breakfast that morning, probably Jerry’s; Harry’s spare glasses. He kicked three bags of what Brian would argue as incredibly important and delicate technology out of the way as he edged his way into the back.

“Hey, sexy.” Adam said, a purr to his voice.

Harry jumped and tripped over one of Brian’s bags as he jerked around and stumbled into the entertainment area of the bus. He caught himself on the built-in multimedia shelving, hitting his shin in just the right spot to make him lose his footing. He ended up hanging on to one shelf for dear life as he got his feet back under him.

When he’d regained his equilibrium he looked up and stared accusingly at Adam. Fucking hell, the rock star was just sitting there, one leg propped on the coffee table in front of him, laptop settled on his legs and watching him with what could only be pure glee in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Sitting?” He tried. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“What a shock, surprising me when you’re here while you should backstage covering interviews. What are you doing here?” He knew he sounded an utter bastard. He didn’t care.

“Sitting?” He tried again. When Harry’s only reaction was to scowl he added on, “I don’t see what the big deal is. I do live here.”

Harry tried to push back his irritation. “You’re supposed to be on an interview.”

“I finished my part of early, so I ducked out to work on the bus. If you haven’t noticed, it gets a little hectic in there,” he nodded his head in the general direction of the amphitheater.

“You’re telling me,” he muttered before picking his way across the room to the back.

Adam studied him as he went. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bus, huh?”

He tossed a glare over his shoulder. “It’s a crime to be brief, is it?” He vanished into the back, ducking into his bunk and digging through one of the bags he tossed there that morning when they’d packed up from the hotel. He found his little notepad and iPod, the latter Anoop had insisted he buy the first month on tour, and Harry had come to appreciate it more than he’d care to admit.

“Want to watch something?” Adam’s voice called from the other room.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and braced himself. This was not his bloody day. Was it wrong to want an hour to himself? “I thought you were working.” He answered back eventually.

There was a pause and then, “It can wait a few. Wouldn’t mind kicking back for awhile.”

“I’m sure one of the others has a game going on inside if you’re bored.” He didn’t hold out much hope for Adam taking on the suggestion, be he had to try.

His voice was closer when he spoke again, “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were trying to get rid of me.”

Harry looked back to see him filling out the tight doorway, casual jeans and printed t-shirt, barefoot and messy hair. Someone relaxed who’d been lounging for awhile. “Know better,” he couldn’t stop from suggesting. Adam’s frown told him exactly how much he didn’t like that remark.

“You’re banning me from the bus?” Adam asked disbelievingly.

Harry felt the ever more frequent flush creeping across his cheeks. He didn’t know whether he was more guilty or pissed. “It was only a suggestion.”

Adam had to know how big a lie that was. He looked thoroughly unimpressed. “Right.”

Harry watched him vanish from sight. Something in him told him to run after him and apologize. He locked that voice into a closet. He could be angry if he bloody well pleased.

When he walked back out into the room, fully prepared to take over a couch until the others started filtering in, he found Adam sprawled back in his original spot, slouched back and staring at the ceiling.

“I thought you left,” he said pointlessly, put out. There was no response and after a minute he huffed. “You’re giving me the silent treatment?” His very first thought was Adam was being absurd. His second was how damn annoying it was he couldn’t even be pissed without being harassed. His third was how much he hated the idea of Adam ignoring him. How bloody sick was he?

“No.” Adam said. “I thought it’d be fun, to come out, relax, watch something with you. You’ve been wound tight all damn week, Harry. But have it your way, we can have a bitch party if you’d prefer.”

“So you’re not working,” Harry said finally, a pointed edge to his voice.

“That’s what you focus on?” Adam demanded, sitting up straight to stare at him in disbelief and annoyance.

“You said you were here to work,” he replied. “Came out to escape the chaos of everyone else. That was some stupid ploy? Because you think I need to relax?” Watching Adam’s response, it was the first time he’d ever seen his jaw drop in shocked outrage. He didn’t particularly care. Were Adam and Jack plotting together now?

“A ‘ploy?’ What, I’m suddenly playing some mind game with you?” He snapped out.

“How should I know?” Harry snipped back. “You’d be the better judge on that.”

“I’m not,” Adam bit out, jaw clenched. “Fuck, what is with you?”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not nice for you to get it through your head?” Harry snapped out. “Are you staying or leaving?”

His eyebrows met his hairline. “Staying, whether you like it or not.”

“Fine. Then I’ll go.” He stared for half a second before jerking into motion.

Adam jumped up and cut him off at the entrance to the kitchen area. “What the hell is going on, Harry?”

Harry glared up at him. “I’m leaving, you’re moving out of my way, yeah?”

“No,” he said stubbornly. “What’s been bothering you? Every day you get bitchier, and I gotta tell you, catty isn’t pretty on you.”

“Adam,” he stopped and inhaled slowly. “I am having a bad week. I need space. Move.”

“Why?” He crossed his arms. “What’s been so terrible about this week that’s turned you into some biting, pissy, angry hermit? Because I’ve been wracking my brains and nothing life altering comes to mind.” The longer he talked the edgier his voice got.

“I don’t want to—”

“Talk about it? Big surprise,” Adam said. “It’s funny, the only difference I can think of is I’m around more.”

Harry met his accusing stare with one of his own. “So what if that’s it? You’re here all the time. Happy? We talked.” He tried not to notice the flash of hurt in the vivid blue eyes as he started pushing himself past, edging along between Adam’s solid weight the unmoving partition of the bus.

An arm hooked around his waist, holding him in place against the doorjamb. “So uncalled for, Harry.” Adam said quietly. The anger still simmered in his tone.

He looked back at him. “I told you I didn’t want to talk. What do you think happens when you push,” he said evenly.

Adam stared at him, looking over his face. Harry could see the anger; it lit up his eyes until they were sparkling, they way they did when he laughed. Then Adam let go. “Okay, fine. Go ahead and leave. I don’t want to say something I’ll regret.”

For a brief moment he was sure all the breath had been knocked out of him. He blinked back sluggishly before his brain kicked in high gear once more. He slid past Adam, through the kitchen, and out the door. Anger and hurt coiled in his mind. This, this was why he didn’t bloody date. It always went like this. He leaned against the side of the bus, trying to come down from the emotional intensity and sort out his muddled thoughts. He looked up and around for any observers, but no crew was in sight, except for some bloke in a baseball cap up nearer the loading docks.

Harry frowned and squinted. Was that… He tried to clear his thoughts and stared harder. That was Bale. The cheeky fuck was right there, leaning against one of the docks, fiddling with something around his neck. Merlin’s balls, he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world as he stood right in the middle of them.

He watched him, frozen in surprise and some amount of disbelief. What was he doing? What was that thing around his neck?

Bale’s fingers twisted some circular piece of metal hanging by a thin leather cord around his neck. It was small, and he had to be a good twenty yards away, but still, Harry thought it looked vaguely familiar. He was sure he had seen it somewhere before, but he couldn’t recall Bale ever wearing a necklace in any previous meetings. Or in any video footage for that matter, which Harry had studied religiously the past several weeks. It was palm-sized and silver, glittering faintly in the fading sun.

Then, of course, because this was his life and it couldn’t possibly ever possess something resembling normalcy, the disc glowed. Harry was sure his heart stopped, but it couldn’t have because suddenly he was shouting.

Bale looked up, startled, and met his eyes across the lot. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, and Harry suspected he looked much the same. Then the door of the bus whipped open and Adam fell out. Harry automatically looked to discover the noise before twisting back to keep an eye on Bale who was looking around nervously.

Adam looked around, saw Harry and headed toward him. “Shit, what’s wrong? I heard you yell. Are you okay?” His eyes traced across to where Harry was staring. “That’s—”

Harry burst into movement, hurtling the few feet to Adam’s approaching form and grabbing his arm. “I know,” he said, dragging him back toward the bus door and trying to push him back in. “Hell, get in, would you?” He craned to look over his neck, but Adam was speaking.

“He’s gone, baby.” He scanned the parking lot. “What the fuck? He was here two seconds ago. I was looking right at him.”

Harry looked too. The bastard was gone, but now Harry knew how he kept doing it. That damn thing around his neck, it was a perception filter. It was magical, one of the ministry’s favorite tools for small muggle events. It meant Bale wasn’t gone, only shifted out of their perception.

He pushed at Adam again. “Get on the bus, Adam,” he growled out softly.

Adam looked down at him and his fingers wrapped tightly around Harry’s bicep. “You too.”

“I’m not letting him get away,” Harry said, angry.

“Wait for Jack. If he’s still here—”

“He’ll be gone by the time security is organized!” Harry tugged at Adam’s hand.

“I’m alone on the bus right now and he knows which one,” he finished pointedly. Harry suspected it was to get him on the bus instead of running off, but it was effective. The will to fight drained out of him.

“I need to call Jack,” he muttered.

“I called the second I heard you yell,” Adam admitted, tugging him up into the bus.

Harry arched an eyebrow at his back. “Bit of an overreaction, that.”

“This entire scenario proves what a stupid line that was,” he said back, voice tense.

“Suppose so.” Harry leaned over the dash to stare at the windows, trying to spot anything unusual. Or spot Jack and the other security arrive. Merlin, it would be a long afternoon now, looking for Bale, going over what they both saw, discussing if anything needed to be done again.

It now made sense, Bale’s vanishing act. Muggles couldn’t see past a perception filter. What didn’t make sense was why Harry couldn’t see him. He should have been immune to that particular charm. It simply didn’t work on other wizards and witches, or most magical beings for that matter. Had Bale managed to somehow modify the charm? That would require years of study of magical theory. But that didn’t add up either, because Harry was sure Bale wasn’t magical. He’d kept an eye out for magical signatures ever since Bale first cropped up and he’d redoubled his efforts after that kid, Tyler, discovered him. He had to be a squib, if anything.

“If you stare any harder your eyes wall pop out,” Adam said quietly. He snorted as Harry jumped out of his skin, whacking his head on the windshield.

“Hell,” he grumbled. “This is bloody ridiculous.”

He offered Harry a bottle of water. “Let Jack take care of this.”

Harry accepted the bottle, still rubbing at his head with one hand. “I am not useless as a bodyguard, you know.”

“I never said you were,” he sounded utterly exasperated.

“You obsess about my not getting involved,” he returned tersely. He sipped the water, carbonated and tasting vaguely of orange.

“I want you here,” Adam said, annoyed. “God knows why.”

It only just occurred to him Adam might be really worried about being left alone with Bale somewhere outside. Something like an apology creeped over his brain, trying to claw its way to his mouth. He bit it back, not really in any mood to admit he was an arse. But he relaxed minutely and sat on the edge of the driver’s seat. “Jack will have this place crawling with the entire security force soon.”

“I know. He’s as bad as you are. I’m going to,” he nodded toward the back. “Are you..?”

“I’ll keep an eye out here, just in case,” he said. “Be back when Jack gets a move on.”

He nodded and vanished into the back. Harry breathed out a heavy sigh, not really sure what he was upset about anymore.

----------

Leo and Brian had a problem and its name was ‘Harry and Adam.’ Leo wasn’t entirely sure why Jerry and Kris weren’t having the same problem. After all, they lived on the same bus and were dealing with the same morons, but he and Brian managed to talk them around.

Brian, Leo knew, only had a problem because he was a romantic schmuck underneath his nerd exterior. Leo, on the other hand, was a hardcore pragmatist. He didn’t believe in or care much for romance. He did care for a little domicile serenity when he wasn’t working his butt off setting up lighting and sound systems at whatever amphitheater they were dumped at for the day. So, if romance was the road to get that peace, he was going to take it.

After a little cajoling on the third day of an increasingly tense atmosphere Jerry cracked like an egg and agreed to Brian’s inspiring plan of intervening between Adam and Harry. Kris was a tougher nut. He took one look at his three new roommates and started spouting off about friend loyalty and not ganging up on anyone.

After the sixth day of inter-bus-mate tension he too folded like a cheap deck of cards. Leo was ready to raise his clasped palms to his chin in a classic arch-villain pose. Brian beat him to it, the uber-nerd.

Leo decided he had a right to the move, since they were going to instigate Brian’s clever plot.

He peered over the edge of his Legend of Zelda cheats manual. Harry would be coming back from the kitchen any minute now and they had to get their plan rolling. Brian met his gaze, gave a half nod, and proceeded to elbow Kris in the side.

Kris looked up at Brian with alarmed eyes. He looked between Leo and Brian and turned red. The guy was a great entertainer, but his acting skills needed a little work.

Kris cleared his throat loudly. “Ah. Yeah. I wanted to, um, get some shuteye.”

“‘Kay,” Adam said absently, immersed in something on his phone.

Brian elbowed Kris again.

He cleared his throat. “Man, I think—didn’t you leave a bunch of stuff on my bunk earlier?”

Actually, Jerry emptied Adam’s bags out on his bunk earlier, and then proceeded to apologize and not clean it up. It was all a part of their Evil Plan.

Adam glanced up distractedly. “Oh, yeah. You can just dump it on my bunk. I’ll get it when I hit the sack.”

Brian elbowed Kris again, who leaned away defensively. “Dude, there could be something fragile. Or, er.” He looked around for help.

“Dirty,” Leo suggested.

“Dirty?” Adam looked up indignantly, focus now entirely on Leo. “FYI, I do not carry pornos in my duffle.”

Leo took a minute to process that. “I was thinking more along the lines of dirty laundry, but whatever gets your rocks off, man.”

Kris was blushing and stuttering over on the other couch, as though he’d forgotten he wasn’t actually going to bed and didn’t actually need to paw through Adam’s stuff.

Adam looked over at Kris before letting out a long suffering sigh. “You’re never going to shove my shit over now, are you?”

He looked relieved. “Could you..?”

“I do not keep porn or,” he made a face, “dirty clothes in with my clean stuff, Kris Allen. I’m not a frickin’ barbarian.”

“Still,” Kris trailed off. Adam was already standing up, setting his phone on the little side table and heading into the back, muttering.

“I am never doing that again,” Kris blurted out as soon as he was sure Adam wasn’t paying attention anymore.

“Never doing what again?” Jerry asked as he and Harry came back from the kitchen. Leo shot out a well aimed kick, blessedly just out of sight of Harry.

Jerry glared at him, blue eyes snapping. “Hey, watch it, would you?”

“Kris was just saying,” Leo said as pointedly as he could, “That he never wants to…”

“Play that stupid level of Zelda again. You know the one,” Brian said helpfully from across the six feet of rumbling bus. “Right?”

“…right,” Kris muttered.

Leo glanced down at his manual. “Er, yeah.”

“When did Leo drag you into Zelda, Kris?” Harry snorted. “He tries to lure everyone in, but I never thought he’d nab you.”

“Oh, he hasn’t,” Kris said determinedly. “One time deal.”

“Harry,” Jerry said quickly. “Can I borrow that book now, that novel?”

“I think it’s packed below,” Harry said, frowning. “I have something else though, some mystery Lil loaned me.”

“Where is it?” Jerry asked.

“My bunk,” Harry said. “You want it? I’m bored with it, to be honest.”

“Yes!” Jerry was a little too enthusiastic and Leo wanted to kick him again. “Now alright? Right now?”

Harry gave him an odd look. “Yeah. One tic.”

Leo waited three seconds after Harry disappeared then hissed, “Now.”

They all jumped up. Jerry hauled the coffee table violently toward the kitchen door as Kris and Brian grabbed the arms of their couch and began pushing it toward the door to the back.

“Shit,” Kris said, spotting Adam walking back up the short hallway. He was giving them a confused look.

“What are you guys doing?” He was half laughing.

Leo just managed to whip the door shut in his face. He felt a welling of pride even as Kris and Brian slotted the couch in place. Just in time too, because the door rattled as Adam tried to open it.

Oh yeah, they were diabolical.

“Did we really just do that?” Kris dropped onto the couch. Brian sat next to him and braced his feet against the floor as Adam pushed roughly against the door.

“Yep,” Leo said in satisfaction. Brian offered up a hand to high-five, which Leo slapped with triumph.

“What the fuck are you guys doing?” Adam’s voice was muffled, but clear enough through the thin metal door.

“Taking a stand!” Leo shouted back, high on success. He ignored Jerry’s ‘oh jesus god, he’s going to start monologuing.’

There was a much quieter, undecipherable conversation on the other side of the door. Harry must have just worked things out. And then,

“What the bloody fuck!” There was some more pounding, “Brian? Kris? What the hell is going on?”

Leo spoke up again, “We’re taking a stand.”

“Against what?” That was Adam’s voice. He sounded pissed.

“You go,” Leo made a face at Brian. He did this romantic crap better.

Brian waited a beat, looking at the others, before he caved. “Against you two,” he leaned back and yelled through the door. “You’re making our lives hell. We thought you could use some time alone to talk it out and since you’re not getting there yourselves we’re helping you along.”

A short pause was followed with, “Open the door or I’ll flay you, Leo.”

Leo and Brian laughed while Kris groaned. Jerry simply shook his head before calling out, “Sorry, Harry. Just, you know, talk or whatever and then we’ll let you out.”

“We’re fine,” Harry snarled. Leo could just picture his face. Another soft murmur came, probably from Adam, because it was followed by Harry’s, “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding!”

A few minutes of silence, and Jerry spoke up. “Do you think we won?”

“That easily?” Kris said skeptically. That was Leo’s thought exactly.

“You all realize Adam and I have the loo,” Harry called.

“Er, yeah, so?” Brian made a face. “Oh my god, this isn’t about sex, is it?” They all heard Adam laugh.

Harry’s tone was patient when it came again, “No. It means you all do not have the bathroom. How long do you think the four of you can hold out before you have to take a piss? Last I saw there were a dozen empties on the table.”

They glanced at the coffee table as one.

Leo shook his head. “Is that supposed to deter us? We’ve got a dozen empty bottles in the kitchen!”

“You did not just say that.” Brian stared at him in horror. “Where the hell were you raised? In a barn?”

“I hear dissent,” Harry said with no small trace of satisfaction.

Leo shot Brian a glare. “It’s called camping, moron. Don’t tip him off!”

Jerry rolled his eyes. “In case it’s escaped anyone’s notice,” he spoke as loud as he could without shouting, “we are on a moving bus. There’s no shortage of pit-stops or good old fashioned scenery outside.”

Brian looked more satisfied at that. Kris had his face buried in a pillow and was shaking. Brian poked his shoulder, “You alright, man?”

The pillow shook back and forth. Kris pulled away, his face bright red, tears on his cheeks. “It’s so insane.” He burst out into fresh laughter.

There was a silence from the other side and then a soft. “Kris, I’m going to kill you.” Leo couldn’t tell if it came from Adam or Harry.

“Guys,” Adam said eventually. “I have like three producers to email back ASAP.”

“They’ll survive till morning,” Leo called back.

“Are you serious?” Adam whined.

“Our mental health is more important than your email,” Leo said. “So get talking.”

----------

Harry was watching him warily, as though Adam was going to jump across the foot of distance and devour him. Under happier circumstances, that wouldn’t be a bad idea, but as it was, he was offended Harry seemed to think he couldn’t control himself. Or was thinking about sex in the first place.

“We don’t seem to have much choice in anything,” he said finally, just to say something, and shoved the debris of his bag to one side so he could sit on his bed. It was a lower bunk this time, much to his dismay.

“Nothing new to me,” Harry muttered and began digging in one of his drawers.

Adam frowned at his back. “And that means..? What, suddenly we’re all controlling you? You really know how to rail against the world, don’t you.” He tried to cut some of the bitchiness from his tone, but from the way Harry stilled he doubted he succeeded on that front.

Harry rested his forehead against the edge of the bunk. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Really.” He was skeptical.

He turned halfway to look over at Adam, though one hand was still wedged in the open drawer. “Not here or now. Back,” he made a face and turned back to his search. “Back home? England. It’s not really home anymore.”

“Oh.” Adam let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. Suddenly this feud seemed like a waste of time. “You were controlled a lot? Growing up?”

Harry snorted, “Yeah, you could say that. Everybody thought they had a right to order me about. Took me a long time to figure out they didn’t. Oh bugger.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Their daft plan is working,” he said. He finally seemed to find what he was looking for and turned around with contact solution in hand and a pile of clothing. “Back in tic.”

He watched him vanish into the bathroom. When Harry emerged in lounge pants, t-shirt, and glasses, Adam couldn’t stop his smile. It wasn’t his fault Harry was irresistibly cute. Really.

“It’s good,” he said before grabbing up some of his own things. “Good that we’re talking, I mean. A stupid plan, but… You know, you look sexy as hell in those glasses.” Because that happened to be a very distracting and therefore very relevant fact at the moment.

He was surprised to see the irritation flash across Harry’s face. “I’m not here to please you, Adam.”

He physically pulled back. “Damn. Who the fuck said you were?”

Harry flinched, “Sorry. Sorry. Shit.”

“Yeah,” he stood and headed to the bathroom. “My thoughts exactly.” Adam grimaced at his reflection in the mirror, changed quickly into sweatpants and stood there. He wasn’t all that sure he wanted to go back out and deal with a still bitchy Harry. Slowly, he dug around in his bag until he found his makeup remover, focusing on getting his eyeliner off and trying to ignore his freewheeling thoughts.

It was hard to not think about Harry though. Guys didn’t 180 on you for no reason, and god knew he had his own indulgent moments. Or panicked moments, and that’s really more what it felt like. Like Harry was panicking right in front of him and neither of them had any choice but to let it happen in close quarters. Adam would happily give Harry space if he could.

He stared at himself in the mirror, eyes squinting.

Okay, that was a total lie. He really didn’t want to give Harry any space at all. But in his defense, he understood needing space. He did! But a person needing space needed to need space from something, and since Harry fucking refused to acknowledge they were something, Adam didn’t really see why Harry needed space from him. Space from the person he was trying rabidly to not acknowledge as needing space from. One part of a pair. A couple.

The only thing that made sense was Harry needed space to close himself off from him again, and like hell Adam was going to let that happen.

He made a face in the mirror and tried to sort out that sequence of thought, some part of him saying it made no damn sense whatsoever. He half wished he had his phone, which was stuck out on the table, so he could call Brad or Neil or anyone who would know exactly what to say about all of this. He groaned softly and tried to pin down his thoughts, determined to hash them out with Harry tonight whether he liked it or not. Whether either of them liked it or not. Leo and the others – Kris! Adam still couldn’t believe it – might be evil little conspirators, but they weren’t totally wrong either. He was getting pretty sick of the tension too.

He opened the door and headed back to his bunk. Harry was sitting on Adam’s bed, cross-legged and chewing his lower lip distractedly.

“My stuff,” he looked around. “You…”

“I put it away. In the drawers. Your bag’s in the cupboard,” he nodded to the tight sliver of locker they had to call a closet.

They stared at each other.

“I’m sorry,” Harry blurted out. “For, that is not for… For more than earlier, but all week.”

“Why?” Adam asked. He wondered if Harry even knew what he was apologizing for. He doubted it.

“Why?” He repeated.

He slowly climbed into the bunk to sit cross-legged next to Harry, facing him. “Yeah. Why are you sorry? Do you know why I’m mad?”

He started chewing on his lower lip again, almost furiously. “Because I’ve been awful all week. Stressed. It’s a lot to deal with.”

Adam frowned, not particularly caring for the descriptor ‘it’s,’ which was at best vague and at worst a shitty way to describe them. “Okay…” He didn’t even know where to start with that one.

Harry gave him a look that said he knew exactly what Adam was thinking. “Sometimes I don’t like to talk, Adam.”

“Honey, you never like to talk,” he said with a dry look. “It’s like pulling teeth with you. In fact, I might rather have a tooth pulled.”

“I haven’t been handling things well.” Harry ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

“Please, please tell me that is not a revelation for you.”

Harry glared at him, “Aren’t you cute.”

“Entitled,” he said back.

“You’ve been a right git too,” he said.

Disbelief welled up. “You’re serious? Every time I tried talking to you all week, you’ve blown me off. I could have said good morning and you’d bitch about that.”

“I have not been that bad,” Harry flared up.

“You’ve been damn near unbearable, Harry,” Adam snapped. “All I wanted to do all week was relax, maybe watch those stupid Mummy movies with you, cheer you the fuck up, and you have been nothing but aggressive and sulky.”

“Fine, it’s been a bad week, alright?” He bit out, “I’m not allowed to ever get stressed? What, your boyfriends have all been perfectly cheerful in the past? That’s absurd, and I told you to leave off for awhile, but did you listen—”

“Stop and backtrack there. What did you say?” He stared hard at Harry, caught up somewhere between anger and shock and satisfaction.

He sighed impatiently, “You don’t listen—”

“Before that. My boyfriends.” Adam scooted in closer and leaned toward him. “You said my boyfriends.”

The expression on his face was completely blank, much to Adam’s annoyance. “So? You have had a few.”

Adam huffed, “You compared yourself to my boyfriends. Acknowledgement much? You’re my boyfriend? Are we dating now? Because you fucking failed to send that memo.”

Harry looked positively alarmed. He leaned way slightly, but Adam snagged a hand in the red t-shirt and hauled him back in close. “I, I don’t know?”

“You don’t know?” He asked incredulously.

“Well, clearly you don’t either!” Harry said, defensive. He pried at the fingers grasping his shirt.

“Oh my god,” Adam groaned, leaning forward enough to drop his head against Harry’s chest, just above where his hand was still fisted in his shirt. “Are were seriously this crazy?”

He felt Harry’s chest vibrate before the sound of laughter registered. “Adam, I know you think I’m a, Merlin, crumpet or something like, but this entire, I don’t know, enterprise of yours has been buggered from the get-go,”

Adam lifted his head to stare before he said with a mischievous grin, “I’m pretty sure you butter a crumpet, right? Or did I just hear you wrong?”

Harry stared at him blankly for a moment. That familiar flush was creeping up his neck. “What? No. Um.”

Adam kept up the staring contest. “Am I wrong?”

"Yes. I mean, no. You do butter crumpets—” He tried to backpedal. “But,”

Adam grinned, “So that works out to my advantage pretty well.”

“I mean—No.” His face looked close to bursting into flame. “No, that’s a different crumpet. It’s…it’s slang. Er. You don’t… Well, sometimes you. I mean… There are two meanings to crumpet back home,”

“Harry,” Adam said. “I know.”

“One’s a bit of bakery, and the other is a person—what do you mean, you know?” Harry stopped and stared at Adam, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Oh, you bloody fucker.”

Adam leaned back in. “You’re the one who started talking about crumpets. And I think your sexy blush proves my side more than yours.” He moved in the last few inches and kissed him. Harry remained still for a split second before he was leaning in, mouth sliding open and tongue running along Adam’s lower lip.

It was the only encouragement Adam needed. He released Harry’s shirt to brace one hand on the bed, the other sliding up to cup his jaw. He urged Harry back as he deepened the kiss, tongue teasing along teeth and tongue. Suddenly Adam really hoped the guys meant what they said about leaving the two of them alone all night, because a few plans were forming in his head. It would be better for them if they butted out of said plans. And then it all jarred to a stop.

“Ow,” he rubbed his lip, wincing. He looked down. “Shit, are you—”

Harry made a face, pulling his askew glasses off and rubbing where the back of his head hit the wall. “‘m fine.” He laughed softly. “I hate these bunks. Might as well be in a coffin.”

“Well that’s attractive,” Adam shook his head and slid down to rest at Harry’s side. “Though now that you mention it…”

“A bed and no audience would be better,” his bedmate pointed out, sliding down a little further. “And space.”

Adam let off a frustrated sigh. “Suppose so. Isn’t that where this all started?” He glanced over at Harry, whose lips were puffy and swollen and cheeks flushed red.

“Yeah.” Harry looked back at him.

“If we’re fine,” he asked after awhile, “what was this last week about?”

“Lots of things. Little things,” he said. “I told you, sometimes I need space. I get moody.”

“That was just ‘moody?’” He couldn’t be blamed for the disbelief, really, could he? He settled back a little more comfortably, tucking his arms up under his head.

“That was,” Harry seemed to be looking for words. “Hell. Things adding up. Being needled.” He watched Adam for understanding. “My two best friends, Ron and Hermione, they were something to see growing up.”

Okay, this had to be going somewhere. Adam waited patiently, hoping it would come back around to this week, though he didn’t quite see how it could. He was willing to see where Harry was taking this though.

“They hated each other, come to think of it. But that was only our first year. They became a duo, but they never thought the same way. I was the friend in the middle. They could understand each other with a look. You know that sort of bond?” At Adam’s nod he continued, “But they were shit at talking to each other. I was ‘Mione’s and Ron’s ear whenever they didn’t see eye to eye. They needed to be apart to think. Like they worked best after taking a break.”

Adam’s mouth twitched, “That’s such a dangerous phrase.”

“Hmm?” He frowned at him.

“‘Taking a break,’” he laughed. “Remind me to youtube Friends for you.”

Harry gave him an odd look. “There was a point in there.”

Adam smiled. “We’re fine, but too much time together is going to drive you crazy,” he translated.

Harry laughed, “Something like. I don’t mind the time, sometimes I want a moment for my thoughts to catch up with the rest of me.” He turned onto his side, propping his head in hand. “I never was the quickest about working things through. You can ask ‘Mione that.”

“Got her number?” Adam asked idly.

“She’s not much of a mobile person,” he noted. “Odd really, I always thought she would be.”

Sometimes, Adam thought, Harry said the craziest shit. Occasionally he wanted a dictionary to decipher comments like that. Or maybe a Wikipedia page on Harry’s life. Something to check notes on.

“So we’re dating.” He really wanted to nail that one down before this moment slipped away and Harry somehow managed to wave it off.

“We must be. Is this our first date then?”

“Lunch was our first date,” he said promptly. “Back in Michigan.” When he looked over at him he could see Harry wracking his brain for the specifics.

“It wasn’t,” he argued. “If anything, we started dating after your mum visited.”

“Okay.” Adam wasn’t picky really. He finally got Harry where he wanted him after all. “We can agree to disagree. I say Michigan was our first date. You say waking up in bed together was our first date.”

Harry sputtered, “I didn’t! I said after.”

Adam laughed. “Okay, so. You say we started dating…after we spent the night together.”

“You—I. Merlin, you’re impossible,” he said petulantly as Adam kept laughing.

Adam slowly calmed down, laughter dying down into the occasional giggle. “You’re adorable when you’re in denial.”

“I’m not in denial,” Harry said. He slid his arm up to curl around the upper edge of the bunk, head resting on his arm. “You’re simply impossible.”

Adam grinned, “You’ve been in denial ever since we met.”

“That might be the most absurd thing you’ve ever said. I have not,” he insisted.

“Have,” he smiled when Harry growled.

But Harry was starting to get up, muttering ‘impossible’ under his breath and something about ‘own bed.’ Adam half sat up and slid an arm around his waist, pulling him back down. “We should watch The Mummy tomorrow.”

Harry settled back against him. “Before sound check, interviews, concert, or red-eye to San Francisco?”

“Shit, that tomorrow?” Adam hummed. “I thought that was a couple days off.”

“No, the flight’s tomorrow. Your meeting the day after. You’re recording, yeah?”

“Mhm. Damn, I really need to email Max,” Adam tucked his face in against Harry’s neck. “But I don’t think our captors plan on letting us out any time soon.”

“Doubt it.” Harry laughed suddenly. “I bet they do have to use the loo.”

Adam snickered, “Oh my god, baby. Seriously?”

“Think about it,” he chuckled. “We haven’t pulled over once since they locked us in here, what,” he glanced at his watch, “three hours ago already?”

That startled a laugh out of him. “Serves them right.”

“I quite agree.”

“So, since we have the back all to ourselves…” He knew Harry could read his tone perfectly. He knew Harry was smiling when he spoke from his tone alone.

“Don’t you dare. I want a real bed and somewhere can play without running into the walls every other minute.”

Adam smirked into Harry’s neck. “We’ll be in Sanfran this time tomorrow.”

“We’ll be on a plane,” he corrected.

“A little past this time tomorrow,” he amended. “Buzzkill.”

“Then you’ll be in the studio all day,” Harry added.

Adam groaned and tightened his grip around Harry. “Buzzkill. You are not improving the incentives for me to not feel you up right now, baby.”

Harry was silent for several minutes. Finally he said, “In a hotel we won’t have to be quiet and we’ll have all night.”

Adam stilled, getting lost in the sheer sexiness of that image. “Okay,” he drawled out finally. “Big points for waiting.” Because he had big plans about taking Harry apart at the seams. He really, really fucking did.

----------

“Damn, that was unexpected,” Adam trailed off as they walked briskly through the hallway of the latest building. He and Harry just arrived in San Francisco not an hour ago, heading straight from the airport to the recording studio. A few dozen fans had been two steps ahead of them. “Fuck, I’m tired.”

“You should have slept on the plane,” Harry said unsympathetically beside him, following their guide, Jim, to whatever room they would be dumped in until the producer arrived.

Adam stuck his tongue out. “I had some things to do.”

“You were on twitter,” Harry grumbled. “And sniggering to yourself halfway through the flight.”

Adam coughed to hide his chuckle. He pushed his sunglasses to the top of head and hoped like hell there weren’t giant rings under his eyes, despite the liberal use of concealer. “I had to share with someone how cute you are when you’re half asleep and rumpled and bitchy. Still…” He followed behind Harry and Jim as they slid into a room. It was large, with muted colors, a few couches and tables, a counter and fridge. Adam had the feeling they would be waiting awhile with a room like this.

“There are some snacks and things available in the kitchenette,” Jim said, motioning. “A resting area, a full bathroom in the door on your left. If there’s anything you need, feel free to use the service phone or head out to the desk down the hall. Mr. Martin should arrive shortly. Is there anything else you require?”

“We’re good, thanks, Jim,” Adam said, Harry nodding beside him.

“Still?” Harry prompted when the door closed.

“Hmm?” Adam shrugged off his jacket. “Oh, yeah, the fans were wild today. How’d they even know we’d be here?”

“You’re not exactly inconspicuous.” Harry wheeled around on him after looking around. “Wait a second, it bothers you?”

He scrunched his nose in dislike, “Of course it does. All the attention gets intense. I’m not immune to it, Harry.”

Harry stared at him like he didn’t recognize him anymore. “You always act like you thrive off it,” he finally said.

Adam half shrugged. He dropped down on one of the taupe sofas in their private waiting room, tossing his leather jacket over the arm. “I try not to let it get to me. It doesn’t usually. I love my crazy ass fans,” he grinned slightly. “Sometimes it’s so, so,” he waved a hand vaguely, searching for the right word.

“Smothering?” Harry suggested, and then, “Invasive? Frustrating? Rude? Oppressive?” He tossed his duffle bag on another couch and wandered over to the mini fridge. “Want something to drink? They’ve got, er, everything.”

“Tea, honey,” he said. “Intense. It gets intense. It’s not something that’s easy to get used to, is it? Shit, I’m just tired today.” He twisted one of his rings, watching as Harry fiddled with the microwave next.

“As I said, you take it all well. I didn’t think it did bother you.” Harry growled, “One of those annoying things about traveling, no one ever mentions every damn appliance is different than the last.”

Adam laughed and hauled himself up from the couch, straightening his black hoodie back into place. “Move over, baby. I can make my own tea, jesus.” Harry didn’t budge, the stubborn twat.

“I can heat a cup of water,” he complained testily, pressing another few buttons. “Why don’t these places come with stoves? They have everything else. There’s probably a bedroom behind one of these doors. They can’t manage a stove and tea kettle?”

He rolled his eyes, slinging an arm around Harry’s waist and hip-bumping him over a foot. “Relax. It’s a cup of tea. We’ll manage somehow.”

Harry huffed and stepped aside, propping a hip against the counter running the length of one wall and watching as Adam hit a few buttons. The microwave hummed to life. “You got it—hell, never mind.” He made a face at Adam’s smirk. “If it bothers you why don’t you ever say anything?”

Adam leaned against the counter beside the microwave so he could face Harry. “It’s something I signed up for—”

“You’ve said that before,” Harry interrupted, head tilting to the side. “You do know that doesn’t mean you can’t whinge about it when the mood strikes.”

Adam blinked rapidly. “I thought I did,” he said honestly.

Harry blinked back, “Er, no, love. Sorry, you don’t. You defend the attention more often than not.”

Adam tried to suppress the smile that wanted to well up. “Only with you. Someone has to, or my fans would never survive your scathing reviews.” The microwave beeped. Harry pushed him out of the way and pulled the coffee mug out, dropping a tea bag into it. Adam vaguely wondered where the hell he pulled that from.

“I thought you were in a bubble,” Harry admitted, heading back toward the couches.

“No honey?” Adam trailed behind him after glancing along the counter. There was sugar, creamer, cinnamon, and no honey. “What kitchen doesn’t have the most basic—”

“It’s in the duffle,” He nodded toward the other couch.

Adam paused a half second and then changed directions toward the bag. “You packed honey.”

“You use it every damn day,” Harry said defensively as he settled onto the couch, drawing one leg up under the other. “And most places don’t have it. In any case, when they do it’s always some old crusty bottle and not your brand—why are you looking at me like that?”

He meandered back over to the couch, bottle and energy bar in hand. Harry watched him warily as he set his bounty on the coffee table and arranged himself on the couch beside him. He couldn’t exactly blame him for the paranoia; he was grinning like a loon. Harry remembered to pack honey because he liked it? The guy could be so thick sometimes and so stupidly sweet. Those little things. Adam wanted to kiss him.

Harry poked him in the side. “What is it?”

He shook his head, “What do you mean, I live in a bubble?”

“Well,” he considered for a second. “How you’re never bothered – or never seem bothered by intrusive behavior. It’s like you don’t notice it.”

“I think,”

“And getting stalked.” Harry charged on quickly when he huffed in irritation, “Bale doesn’t bother you. He should. Getting stalked is not an everyday occurrence, Adam. It’s things like that. Sometimes I worry they don’t bother you because you don’t realize how bad they can get. You’re in a bubble.”

Adam looked at him like he was crazy. “Baby, I am not going to sit around worrying about something that may or may not happen. AKA, Bale in this case. What the hell does that achieve?”

Harry scoffed, “Because you don’t realize how dangerous that sort of thing can be. I’m not asking you to worry, I’m saying you should be more aware than you act.”

“Alright, I know you’ve been stalked before, so I am not going to be an ass and claim you’re overreacting, but Bale and your past experience? They’re not the same, Harry. Two complete different situations,” Adam said. He lifted the teabag out of the water, eyed it and the coffee table. Harry cleared his throat and held up a small garbage bin. “Thanks.”

“That doesn’t mean you should be careless about your safety,” Harry said after a minute.

He glanced over at him. “Aren’t you eating anything? You skipped breakfast too. Have you had anything today?” He wracked his brain. They’d eaten on the go early this morning as they caught some awful red-eye flight. Well, he’d eaten a banana. Harry had a cup of coffee and when Adam suggested he have a banana too he’d been leveled with a look and a muttered ‘too early for your sex jokes.’ Which had made him promptly choke on his own serving of potassium. He smirked at the memory. “Funny, they forget something as basic as honey and yet there’s a bunch of bananas in their fruit bowl.”

“Are you changing the subject?” Harry demanded incredulously, eyebrow arching up.

Adam settled back into the couch fully, mug in hand. “Reverting to a previous conversation. And you haven’t eaten. You’re too thin, baby. I’m starting to think it’s because you don’t eat. You know you’re sexy, right? Like, you don’t have any self-esteem issues you’re hiding?” He looked Harry over, enjoying the view more than really feeling concerned. Harry had never displayed discomfort with his body, actually the total opposite, a quality Adam appreciated.

Harry shifted back into the side of the couch, drawing both his legs up onto the cushions. He nudged Adam with a shoe. “Knock that off.”

“What?” Adam sipped his tea, watching his face over the rim.

Harry rolled his eyes. “The sultry staring. I’m immune, so you might as well save the energy.”

Adam laughed. “Sultry, huh?”

Harry groaned, making him flood with warmth. God, flirting with him was too much damn fun. What were they even talking about? He thought back. Oh, right. “How can you not be hungry? You’re worse than Sutan. At least he eats, just bitches about it later.”

“I ate on the plane,” Harry said, staring back at him.

“A bag of peanuts does not count,” he said.

“Two bags,” Harry said. “You forfeited yours.”

“…is that what happened to my peanuts?” Adam elbowed a shin. “Seriously, you stole my peanuts?”

“I ate,” he said mildly.

“I might have wanted those,” Adam complained.

“You hate airline peanuts,” Harry said. “You like those daft little bags of pretzels. Besides, I ate. You don’t have to worry I’ll waste away to nothing.”

He drank a little more tea. Shit, he was ready to drop off. He nudged Harry again, “Scoot the fuck over, hey?”

“Scoot over?” Harry gave an exaggerated look around at his corner of the couch. “Where?”

Adam held his tea away from them both in one hand and edged his way closer. “Legs up, baby.” The look Harry gave him could have sliced a lesser man open with its cutting skepticism, but he shifted around until his legs crooked over Adam’s lap. Adam draped an arm comfortably over his thighs and sunk back into the pillows. “Better.”

“Hmph,” was the only articulate response he got. Adam was just starting to drift away when there came, “Don’t you think there’s something to protect yourself from? With stalkers—Bale, I guess? You should take that seriously, Adam.”

Adam groaned, “Oh my god, baby. Why? Why every time we’re alone—”

“Because I worry,” Harry said sharply. “Forgive me for caring.”

Adam turned his head to stare at his pissy expression. “Sorry, I know. Just… Can we not, today?” Harry sighed, but nodded. He let his eyes drift half closed, settling somewhere between sleep and mind wandering as he enjoyed the view. He barely caught the muttered,

“Bubble.”

He would have thought he imagined it, but he saw his lips moves as Harry fiddled with the hem of his plain grey shirt. “You did not,” Adam whined, torn between amusement and irritation and fucking exhaustion.

Harry glanced up at him innocently. “Haven’t the faintest what you’re on about.”

He squeezed a thigh. “Biiitch. Fine, Bale doesn’t bother me. There, I said it.” The displeased expression on Harry’s face spoke volumes. “Baby, I’ve lived in LA for years. I’ve had some pretty creepy fans already, not really anything big, but one or two, and I could tell some horror stories about some of the guys I’ve dated.

“A bad date is not a stalker,” was his upset response.

“You haven’t heard about Paul yet.” He swallowed the last of his tea, leaned forward and pushed the mug onto the coffee table. “I’m a Lalaland club kid, Harry. I can handle myself, especially with assholes.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Harry insisted. “Have you ever defended yourself against physical assault, Adam?”

“Yes.” He shook his head and smiled at Harry. “Now who’s living in a bubble? You don’t survive in the nightlife of LA without getting in a few disagreements.”

He could see by the reluctant expression he agreed with him. Adam resettled against the pillows again, playing with the rough material of Harry’s jeans and watching the thoughts flitting across his face. “So what happened to you?”

He gave Adam a startled look. “What?”

“Your stalker? What happened that makes you worry so much now?” Adam held on a little tighter as Harry tensed.

“That’s not… I don’t like talking about it.” He fidgeted with his shirt some more.

Adam sighed. He figured the question wouldn’t amount to anything. Harry just didn’t want to let down those particular walls.

“It was all a mess,” Harry said after awhile, running a distracted hand through his hair.

Adam froze, eyes widening. He didn’t want to breathe, in case it distracted Harry from actually talking. The crazy thought came to him that he might be sleeping, because this, this was unreal.

Harry looked at him through lowered lashes. He chewed on his lower lip. “Merlin,” he sighed eventually.

“It’s okay—” Though he really, really wanted to know.

“No, it’s not,” Harry said. “Shit.” He scrubbed at his face.

Adam sat up straighter. He’d been thinking on this very topic for awhile, weeks. “How about I start?” When Harry looked up at him, confusion on his face, he continued, “You’ve been stalked before, pretty obsessively, right? Whoever it was fucked with you enough for you to say stalkers are dangerous. So, you were hurt, or your family was, or both.” He thought back over everything he knew about Harry, all the little details that never added up into a whole.

“It started when I was a baby,” Harry hesitated, and something jumped into Adam’s mind.

“You lived with your uncle, didn’t you?”

“Er, yeah,” he said, frowning, puzzled. “My aunt and uncle, mum’s side.”

“So,” Adam said slowly, “What about your parents?” The thought that something happened to Harry’s parents killed him. God, that would fuck up anyone. When he didn’t answer he hugged Harry’s legs a little closer.

Harry was chewing furiously on his lip again. When he paused to talk it was bruised red, close to bleeding. “They died when I was one.”

When he didn’t go on, Adam couldn’t stop himself from prompting, “The stalker?”

Harry bobbed his head. Adam found himself edging in toward Harry more and sweeping him into his lap. “Okay, you know what, crazy shit like that? You should talk about it.”

He was still tense as hell, not that Adam could blame him. An arm crept around Adam’s shoulder. “I don’t need coddling.”

“It’s not coddling to talk—”

“I mean this,” Harry wiggled. “I’m fine. You didn’t—”

“Oh, shut up,” Adam dropped a kiss on Harry’s head. “Bitch.” He nuzzled in a little, pulling him in tighter against him. He felt Harry’s smile against his jaw more than anything.

“It happened years ago. I adjusted,” he said after a few minutes sitting quietly, his fingers playing idly with the two chains around Adam’s neck. “Talking about it isn’t something… My friends never really needed to deal with that, and no one truly compassionate or well-intentioned ever asked. I’m used to not explaining, or…”

“You learned to deal with it on your own,” Adam supplied.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “My friends had enough to deal with, you know? I hate burdening people.”

Sometimes Adam got the urge to strangle him. “Burden me, okay?”

He snorted. “Adam, I am not going to dump my life story on you.”

“Harry, shut up,” he said. “God, you’re a fucking martyr, you know that? It’s not a crime to share yourself or let others be concerned about you.”

“I—”

“But we’ll work on that,” he added.

“Aren’t you full of yourself,” Harry said. He wiggled again. “You do remember we’re at a recording studio?”

“Who knows when Max will get in. We were early, weren’t we?” He was determined to hold on to Harry awhile longer. He slid down the couch a little more, Harry’s weight pressing into him a little more.

“Over an hour?” Harry shifted himself, resettling so he was half sliding off his lap. “You should rest for awhile. One of your power naps.”

He breathed deeply, settling back and just enjoying the feeling of sitting there together. “You should eat something.”

Harry huffed a little laugh, “We’ve come back where we started.”

Adam smiled, “You could at least eat a banana?”

“Déjà vu,” he said. “What is your obsession with bananas?”

“They’re good for you. Full of potassium. Handy to have on hand,” he replied promptly. “Just one—”

“Why do I feel as though you’re persisting with your banana-dick jokes—”

Someone cleared their throat. Harry craned around and proceeded to slide off his lap. Damn. Adam opened his eyes and craned his head up from the cushion to stare at the interloper.

“If bananas are an issue,” a blond, solid guy with a killer grey wool overcoat spoke, “the apples are delicious. Crisp, not like the usual flavorless crap. The pears, though, are never ripe.”

“Max!” Adam stood, straightening out his clothing. “We didn’t expect you for awhile.”

“I never would have guessed.” He slanted a glance between the two. “You’re about to lose your sunglasses, Mr. Lambert.”

“For the last time, Adam,” he sighed, hand automatically going to his hair, where his sunglasses somehow stuck on, only just sliding off to the side. He tossed them on the couch. “Max, this is Harry Grey, handler, bodyguard, assistant, the whole enchilada. Harry, Max Martin.”

They shook hands. Max nodded, “You two have caused quite a ruckus.”

“Tabloids?” Harry said, “I thought they were quieting down.”

Max arched an eyebrow, “No, outside. There are quite a few dedicated fans hoping for an exit.”

Harry looked at Adam. “We noticed them coming in. I imagine they’ll be gone by the time you two are done. You’re working on two songs today?”

Max’s head bobbed, “Both feeling hot. Can’t wait to get this guy in the studio.”

“Hell yeah,” Adam said. “Can’t wait to get the ball rolling here. Are the others coming in?”

“In a couple hours,” Max said amicably. “Whenever you’re ready, Adam. Are you coming, Mr. Grey?”

“Harry,” Adam said automatically, then sent him a questioning glance. Harry shrugged back at him,

“Harry’s fine. And no, I’ll stay here, probably look around,” he said.

Max snorted, “You two aren’t a couple? You act like one.”

Oh, such a fucking couple, thank-you. Adam wanted to kiss Max. “That is complicated. Was complicated; he’s finally caved to my charms. First week of official dating,” he half hugged Harry. “Don’t burn the room down while I’m gone, baby.”

“Prat,” he grumbled.

Adam blew him a kiss as he left the room with Max. He mentally shelved their conversation to pick at later, because Harry had really left a hundred questions in the wake of the one he answered. The one Adam deduced. Harry was a mystery…wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in a tantalizing package of confident, intelligent, sexy roadie. He definitely had a few more conversations to engage. But for now, time to play in the studio, work out exactly what he wanted Whataya Want From Me and If I Had You to feel like.

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Part 4 || Part 6