Pairing: Adam Lambert/Kris Allen
Beta: indyakasha ♥
Notes/disclaimer: Fluffity fluff with a cottontail on top. Completely fabricated, no disrespect intended. Hugs and thanks to the spectacular indyakasha for her help and overall niftiness. Title is from Kris's song, "Blindfolded."
Summary: “I wish that I could just meet someone who had never heard of me before and didn’t give a shit about if I’m famous.”
Adam wasn’t drunk when he made the dating profile. He was, in fact, rather harshly sober at the time. It was a deliberate act.
Truth be told, it wasn’t even the first time he had done it. There was the time in high school, on his family’s computer, the page filled out covertly and frantically deleted when he heard the school bus bringing Neil home from middle school. That one was just for practice, anyway. He didn’t even have a credit card. Then he thought about doing it right after he moved to LA, but he learned after about two days that all he had to do was walk into a club, so it had seemed sort of pointless to spend the money. There were always boys for dancing with and boys for hooking up with and, once, a boy to fall in love with. So in retrospect, sometimes love was hard, but it was also pretty easy. Now, ten years later, he wasn’t Adam Lambert club kid anymore, but Adam Lambert superstar rock god. Sex was impossibly easy, and love was seemingly impossible.
“I wish,” he confided to Tommy on the bus one night, “that I could just meet someone who had never heard of me before and didn’t give a shit about if I’m famous.” Sometimes it felt kind of good to wallow.
Tommy bumped his shoulder sympathetically. “Yeah,” he agreed companionably. Which would have been just right, but then Tommy continued. “But dude, there’s not a gay guy on the planet who doesn’t know who you are. Did you see that one guy tonight with the tattoo of your--”
“That’s what I mean. They think they know me, but they don’t. And they don’t want to get to know me, the real me.”
Tommy kissed his shoulder, then snuggled in under his arm. “Hey. I didn’t meet you til you were famous, and I love the real you.”
“I know, honey, but that’s different. You never wanted to fuck me.”
“Yeah,” Tommy agreed, “but I’m still up for friendly blowjobs. Standing offer.” He yawned as Adam scratched his head affectionately.
“Nah, it’d just turn you gay. More fun making out with straight boys on stage.”
“Oh, please. Like your magic dick would just turn me gay,” Tommy mumbled, and within a minute he was fast asleep.
Adam didn’t sleep, though. He stayed wide awake until they got to the hotel, looking out the window and enjoying the pleasantness of Tommy’s warm little body tucked in against his. As much as he liked Tommy, loved him really, he honestly never was tempted by the prospect of hooking up with him. Adam liked boys who liked boys, end of story.
There were, thankfully, no glamberts waiting in the lobby this time. Isaac led a sleepy Tommy away, and Adam wistfully watched everyone else head off to their shared rooms. He was alone, as usual, and while he liked the privacy and bathroom counter space, tonight was different. Tonight he wanted companionship.
It was too late to call anyone. He pulled off his boots and wandered out to the balcony to look at the moon. Not quite full, but nice and fat, with some clouds giving it a gauzy effect around the edges. Adam watched it for a while. He tipped back his head and softly howled, “Awoooo.”
“Lonely wolf,” he whispered to no one.
Back in the room, he undressed and considered going to bed, but he knew there was no chance of falling asleep anytime soon. He knew that buzzy feeling all too well. So he ran a bath, even though he had showered back at the venue, and stayed in the water until his fingers were pruney. It was an enormous tub, big enough for two. He sang some bits and pieces of songs, testing the acoustics of the room.
When he finally left the tub and dried off, it felt nice to slide between the crisp, cool sheets. He still wasn’t sleepy, though. He checked his phone, put it aside, reached for his laptop. He stared at Google for a while before he typed in, how to find true love. Then he deleted it. Then he typed it again. What the fuck.
The first thing on the list was an add for eHarmony. He considered it for a time. Then he searched for gay dating services. Gaylicious? No. Mancrunch? No. Adam4Adam? Tempting, but...no.
The one that caught his eye was StarMatch, a “community for relationship-minded gays and lesbians.” He clicked.
There was even a personality test that was supposed to match you with the most compatible people. Be honest, it advised, to ensure the best matches. So Adam was honest.
NEW PROFILE: username sushiwolf. 26. LA area. Tired of looking for love in shady bars. Travel a lot for work, but longing for a long-term, committed relationship. Love music, fashion, beauty in all things. Can be impulsive. Admittedly toppy. Romantic. Searching. Hopeful.
It also strongly advised uploading pictures. Adam passed on that one.
He refreshed the page a few times that night, but his inbox stayed empty save for the welcome message from the administrator. He wasn’t really sure what he expected. A net full of fish that he would secretly inspect and then sorrowfully return to the sea? They would be perfect and pure and true, and entirely unsuited for life in his bowl. Note to self, he thought. Next time find true love first, then pursue international stardom. He closed the laptop, hugged a pillow, and finally managed a couple of hours of sleep.
There still weren’t any fish in the net the next morning. By that time he felt kind of embarrassed about the previous night’s exercise in self-pity anyway, so in a way it was a relief. But at the same time he couldn’t help thinking, “See? Without the sparkly bait, no one’s biting.” He made a mental note to delete the profile, and that night he went out dancing with Brooke and Terrance. When he came home he slept like a baby.
It was a few days before he remembered to delete the profile. There was a long bus ride, and he was watching Zombieland when he remembered, so he paused the movie and went to the site. There were two messages in his inbox. Two sad, measly little sardines in the net. Ah, well. Probably to be expected since he hadn’t uploaded any pictures. He wouldn’t bother with someone who wouldn’t show his face, either. Still. Two sardines.
He clicked on the first message. hey i like a big boy, wanna be in my pack lol why don’t you send me a pic and mabe we can talk. jayjayy
He peeked behind door number two. You sound really sweet. We share a lot of the same interests. Check out my profile pic and let me know if you like what you see. I notice you didn’t post a picture. Would like to know what you look like before, I’m sure you understand. mr.robinson
After briefly entertaining the thought of posting a picture of Neil, Adam deleted that one, too.
Just as he located the “manage my account” button, one more fish appeared. I always had a feeling there was a sushi eating wolf out there somewhere. sirk.
When Kris moved to LA he told everyone he wanted to break into the music business. That was the truth. It just wasn’t the whole truth. He also wanted to break out of something.
Now it was six months later and he hadn’t broken in or out. He was mostly just broke.
Okay, technically, he was out. He had told his new roommate, Matt, that he was theoretically gay.
“Theoretically?” Matt raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s a really strong theory. Just not tested, like, formally. Yet. Because...”
“Nobody gay in Arkansas?”
“No, sure they are. I guess. It’s just, harder. So I thought maybe here, it would be different.”
“Is it different?” Matt seemed genuinely curious.
Kris grinned. “Well, for one thing, my roommate didn’t freak out when I told him, so yeah. It’s different. You are still gonna be my roommate, right?”
“Are you kidding? This is perfect. I was legitimately concerned every girl I brought home was gonna go batshit over your cute ass. Now I got no worries.” Matt tossed him another beer. “So, how we gonna get you laid?”
Which led to an uncomfortable (for Kris) Q and A about Kris’s type.
“I don’t know. Someone nice, I guess.”
Kris shrugged. “I don’t really think--”
“Laid, Kris. Focus. Okay, so who do you find hot. Like, actors and stuff. George Clooney? I know, old, but that is a fine looking man you’ve got to admit. What about the Doogie guy, Patrick something, he’s gay, right? Ooh, wait, I’ve got it. Daniel Craig. Yeah, Daniel Craig, he’s like--damn. I mean, I’ve never jerked off to a dude before, but if I --”
“Jake Gyllenhaal,” Kris blurted out, desperate to stop Matt from saying more words.
A pause. “Really? Huh.” Matt looked a little disappointed. “Okay. Okay, we can work with that.”
So began Matt’s quest for Jake Gyllenhaal’s gay clone to relieve Kris of his virginity. It made Matt happy, so Kris didn’t mind. Matt was really a great guy, and he helped Kris out a lot those first months in LA. He let Kris cover for him at the piano bar where he worked, and that led to a steady job there. He still worked behind the bar on his nights off, but at least he was making some money playing music, and he was glad he could tell his mama that.
He was so busy trying to pay the rent that there wasn’t a whole lot of time to write or work on his own stuff, but he did what he could. The other thing, though, the social thing. That was a little harder.
Matt tried to help. He even took Kris to a gay bar one night, along with Allison, a singer from work. Allison danced a lot and had a great time while Matt optimistically tried hitting on lesbians. Kris was too nervous to look at anyone and hid in a corner of the bar. He wished they could have at least gone someplace with live music.
“Dude, what are you doing?” Matt was dragging him in the direction of the dance floor. “Okay, I’m just gonna dance with you for a minute, because if people think you’re with me they’ll be afraid to--”
“Hey there, looking for me?” Matt was cut off by a very tall, very blond guy wearing incredibly tight jeans and an amazing smile.
Before Kris could answer, he was on the dance floor with the guy, watching his hips do mesmerizing things in those tight jeans.
The guy smirked at Kris. “I’m Alex,” he called over the music. “You’re fucking adorable. Come on, honey.” He reached for Kris’s hands and put them on his mesmerizing hips, and then Kris was moving with him, glad that he’d had a couple of beers to loosen up. Alex was seriously hot, and Kris felt himself melting as Alex took charge of the way they moved together. “Such a hot little thing,” Alex growled into Kris’s ear, and Kris might have moaned a little, but then Kris felt a hot big thing pressed against his side and Alex was saying, “Come on, I want to blow you,” and leading him toward the bathroom. And that’s when the alarm went off in Kris’s head, because this guy didn’t even know his name, and the bathroom? What?
He pulled his arm away. “Um. You want to maybe have a drink or something?”
Alex stared at him before his face broke out in a grin, and damn, he really was hot. “Well, no, my little country mouse. Thirsty is not what I am right now.” He quirked an eyebrow at Kris, a question.
“Oh. I, uh, I’m gonna find my friends, then, but, thanks,” Kris mumbled.
“Straight guy and cute redhead. Over there,” Alex gestured to the bar. “Standing offer, honey. Anytime.” With a wink and one last devastating grin, Alex disappeared into the crowd. Kris made his way to Matt and Allison on shaky knees, suddenly aware of several pairs of appraising eyes on him.
Allison took one look at him and said, “Let’s go.” Back at Matt’s and Kris’s place, they ordered pizza and debriefed.
“Okay, first, how the hell did he know I was straight? And second, cover your ears, Ally, explain to me what would be so bad about getting a no-strings-attached bj from the guy who looked like Sawyer from Lost?”
“Ooh, he did, didn’t he?” Allison dropped her hands from her ears. Then she scowled at Matt. “Shame on you, Matty. Kris isn’t that kind of boy.” She beamed at Kris approvingly.
“For real?” Matt asked. “Because it seems to me that you are missing out on a really big advantage of gay life.”
Allison threw a mushroom at Matt. “Like you would know.”
“Fine, you’re the expert. Can I tell him?” Matt asked Allison. She shrugged and poured herself another margarita. “The reason I asked Allison to go out with us is--”
“Because I am fun and awesome.”
“Yes, that, and also--Allison knows a lot about dudes getting it on with other dudes. Like, a scary lot.”
Kris was torn between wanting to know more and wanting to lock himself in his room with his headphones and the margarita pitcher.
“Yeah. She has this hobby, see. She writes, like, gay porn--”
“Fanfiction. And it’s not porn. Well, not always.”
“Right, okay. So this is all frankly a little outside of my field of expertise, so I thought she could be, like, your mentor.”
Allison sighed. “Matt. Like I said, I’m happy to go out with you guys, but what I know about gay men mostly comes from slash written by women. Also Queer As Folk. And my friend Tony, but he never tells me anything juicy. He’s all, ‘None of your business, Ally,’ ever since he met Fred. Those two are ridiculous.” Her eyes widened. “That’s it!” She bounced up and down on her knees. “Tony’s not that kind of boy, either, and he met Fred through this dating site for gay men who are looking for true love and not hook ups or some shit. And yeah, it worked! So that’s what Kris should do!”
Matt frowned. “True love? So, we’re just gonna forget about blowjob guy?”
“Well, not true love, necessarily, but a relationship. Like, dating and getting to know someone. Like that.”
They both looked at Kris expectantly. “Um. Guys? I appreciate your...interest in this, I really do. But right now, I just want to eat some pizza and think about something else for a while.”
So they spent the rest of the night playing Mario Kart and not talking about Kris’s social life.
When he woke up the next morning, he experimentally jerked off to thoughts of Steven blowing him in a bathroom stall, which was nice, but he got much better results when he shifted back to his old standby of riding Jake Gyllenhaal on a deserted moonlit beach.
He didn’t really seriously consider Allison’s suggestion until a few weeks later when he was playing an endless set of love songs at the piano bar. It was Valentine’s day, and the bar was running a sweetheart special. The place was filled with adorable couples holding hands and feeding each other truffles, and one guy even went down on one knee and brought out a ring box, which made Kris a little misty. When he got home that night, he sat down with his computer, pulled out the post it note Allison had given him weeks ago, and typed in StarMatch.