Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/126597.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Adam_Lambert_(Musician), Tommy_Ratliff_(Musician), American_Idol_RPF
  Relationship:
      Adam_Lambert/Tommy_Ratliff
  Character:
      Adam_Lambert, Tommy_Ratliff
  Additional Tags:
      High_School, Alternate_Universe
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-10-14 Words: 4029
****** Stretching All the Way from Here ******
by rivers_bend
Summary
     I found out yesterday Tommy used to have a lip ring. Apparently that
     meant a high school AU was in order. Idek.
Notes
     I do not know any of the people whose personas are mentioned here,
     and neither believe nor mean to imply this ever happened.
Adam didn't know what he was doing, sitting in California Pizza Kitchen waiting
for a boy he hadn't seen in two years. He looked at his watch again. Tommy was
late. Maybe he wasn't coming. Maybe this was some sort of joke. The ice had
melted in Adam's Coke, making it taste slightly bitter.
Tommy was his best friend in elementary school, but the last time he'd seen him
was Tommy's thirteenth birthday party. After sixth grade Adam's family moved
from Burbank to Santa Monica, and though they'd talked on the phone and gotten
their parents to drive them a few times, it hadn't been the same. When Adam got
the invite to Tommy's party it had been almost six months since they'd seen
each other. The guest list included Adam and Tommy and four or five boys Adam
didn't know from Tommy's new school. They'd eaten cake and tacos and played
football in the back yard, even though Adam hated football.
The other boys were all good friends, and Adam felt left out and awkward most
of the time; Tommy mostly ignored him. Then Adam's father had called as the
other parents were picking up their kids and said he would be late. Like this
was good news, Tommy's mother smiled when she told him, inviting him to stay as
long as he wanted. She'd always liked Adam.
But now that the other boys were gone, Tommy had seemed glad to see him, taking
Adam's hand and pulling him toward the stairs. "Come on, I want to show you
something." They'd gone up to Tommy's bedroom, where the floor was littered
with books, bits of electrical junk that might have been an amp at some point,
games, and discarded clothes. Tommy tugged him to the bed under the window.
"Sit there." Pushing Adam down, he went to a chest of drawers in the corner.
Adam had spent many hours in this room when he and Tommy had been in school
together, but now it felt different. Maybe a little dangerous. Something about
the look Tommy was giving him, like they were in on a secret, made him nervous.
Tommy pulled his hand from the back of the drawer he'd been digging in and with
a look of triumph on his face held up a crumpled pack of Marlborough Menthol
Lights, a lighter peeking out of the torn corner.
"Where'd you get those?" Adam was sure that Mrs. Ratliff wouldn't approve.
"I lifted them. Want one?" Tommy flopped down on the bed, head under the open
window holding out the pack.
"Won't your mom smell the smoke?"
"Nah, that's why we blow it out the window. You'll have to come over here
though. It's no good you sitting on the end of the bed, it's too far away."
Tommy scooted up a bit, pulling a pillow over and propping his head on the
window sill. Adam moved closer as instructed. A challenge in his eyes, Tommy
handed him a cigarette and the lighter.
Adam had never smoked, but he'd paid attention to people lighting cigarettes.
He put the filter in his mouth and flicked the wheel of the lighter. It took a
couple of goes to spin it fast enough to spark the gas. Tommy watched, mouth
twitching. When Adam got the flame to touch the end of the cigarette he sucked
in too hard and coughed violently, flailing, dropping the lighter and nearly
burning Tommy in the face with the glowing butt-end.
"Hey! Watch it!" Tommy plucked the cigarette from his fingers, putting it
between his own lips. "And quiet down will you? Mom will be up here if you keep
that up."
Adam leaned over Tommy to get the other pillow to muffle his coughing, and felt
a warm brush of fingers on his waist, making him jerk backwards and nearly fall
off the bed. When he finally got the coughing under control, Adam looked at
Tommy over the top of the pillow, and found him watching Adam through his
eyelashes, cigarette held loosely between his fingers, ribbon of smoke trailing
out the window. Adam kept the pillow over his face. He didn't know what to make
of this new Tommy, who seemed more confident than the boy he remembered.
They sat in silence, until, taking a final drag, Tommy stubbed out the butt on
the windowsill and pushed himself up on his elbows. "You ok now?" he asked.
Still watching from behind the pillow, Adam nodded.
Shifting his weight to one arm, Tommy had reached out and drawn the pillow
away. Adam had let him. Reaching out again, Tommy took Adam's wrist and pulled
him forwards, ignoring Adam's resistance, tightening his grip so Adam
overbalanced and fell onto Tommy's chest. Adam had felt his heart fluttering
against Tommy's ribs, and then there'd been a hand on the back of his head and
Tommy's lips mashed into his, tongue sliding wetly between them, tasting of
smoke and chocolate. Planting his hands on Tommy's shoulders, Adam had pushed
away, slid off the bed, run down the stairs and out the front door. He was two
streets away when he saw his father's car turn the corner.
Adam hadn't seen or spoken to Tommy since.
Until Wednesday, when Tommy had called and asked if he wanted to get some pizza
Friday night. Still finding it hard to believe it was really Tommy on the
phone, Adam had been shocked into saying yes. And now he was sitting in West
Hollywood, looking like he'd been stood up.
The waiter who'd taken his drink order came back. "Did you want to order any
food yet? Or are you still waiting?" He sounded like he didn't think anyone was
coming. And why should he? A chubby, awkward kid sitting at a table all alone
for half an hour, Adam was the perfect high school-movie-cliché loser.
After another ten minutes of fighting with himself over whether he should stay
or go, Adam was about to just ask for the check for his Coke when he saw a
familiar shape slouch through the door. Tommy was taller now, and had a ring in
his lip, and another in his eyebrow, but he still had that hungry-eyed look
Adam remembered. The waiter followed Adam's gaze, flaring his nostrils slightly
at the boy in baggy jeans and a black trench coat weaving his way through the
tables. Tommy didn't exactly blend in with the crowd.
"I'll come back to take your order," the waiter sneered. Adam wished again that
he'd left after the first twenty minutes.
Tommy pulled out the chair and slid bonelessly into it, stretching out one
booted foot and nudging Adam's ankle. "Hey. Sorry I'm late. Places to go,
people to do…"
Adam shrugged as though it didn't matter. "Whatever." He wasn't sure what he'd
expected. Not an apology or anything, but maybe something other than this
acting like they'd last seen each other a week ago and that they had dinner
together all the time.
"We eating? I'm hungry." Tommy managed to sound like Adam was the one that was
nearly forty-five minutes late. Like it was his fault they weren't already
ordering dessert.
"We'd be eating already if you'd gotten here on time. What do you want?" Adam
wasn't usually snippy to his friends, but he wasn't even sure Tommy still fell
into that category.
Tommy's lip ring twitched in amusement, but he snagged his menu and didn't say
anything.
Adam had chosen ages ago, but picked up his menu again for something to look
at. He saw a movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up to see Tommy
picking up Adam's Coke and putting Adam's straw in his mouth. The tip of his
tongue darted out for a moment, making Adam's stomach lurch uncomfortably. He
stared dumbly as Tommy sucked up a mouthful of Coke, pulling the straw out of
his mouth before swallowing. "Kind of watery," Tommy said.
"The ice melted while I was waiting for you. What are you doing drinking my
Coke anyway?" Adam fantasized about pushing away from the table and striding
out of the restaurant, leaving Tommy alone to pay for the glass of watery Coke
and sit there like he'd been stood up. Instead, he snatched the glass back,
plucking the straw out and throwing it on the table, and drank down the rest in
one swallow.
The waiter was back. "What can I get you?"
Tommy went first. "I'll have a Margherita pizza and a beer."
"I don't think so. Pizza and a Coke, maybe."
Tommy looked for a moment like he was going to argue, but backed off under the
waiter's stare. "Fine, I'll have a Coke."
"I'll have a Giardiniera and another Coke as well, please." Adam was aware he
was being extra polite out of embarrassment but he couldn't stop.
"Margherita and a Giardiniera and two Cokes." The waiter tucked his pad into
his apron and headed towards the kitchen.
"Did you really think he was going to bring you a beer?"
"I've gotten beer before. Some places don't ask for ID. They can't do anything
to you for asking."
Adam didn't know what to say to that. Tommy was fifteen. There was no way he'd
ever been served alcohol in a restaurant. Adam was getting tired of whatever
game Tommy was playing. "So what are we doing here?"
"I like it here. The pizzas are good."
"But what am I doing here? Why did you call me? We haven't spoken in two years.
Why now?"
Tommy worried at the ring in his lip with his teeth. "I just thought you might
like to get a pizza is all. No special reason."
The waiter came back with their drinks and Adam turned his attention to the
other customers as he toyed with his new straw. The other one—the one that had
been in Tommy's mouth—was still sitting on the table, right by Adam's wrist. He
could feel Tommy's eyes on him, but worked hard to ignore them. Neither boy
said a word until after their pizzas came and they'd started eating.
"So do you really like all those vegetables, or do you just order them to be a
good boy?" Tommy had eaten half his pizza and was looking askance at Adam's.
"I like vegetables." Adam tried to match Tommy's look of scorn. "Isn't that
pizza boring? You could have gotten pepperoni or something."
"I like it better like this." Tommy sounded petulant, but then he grinned,
looking for the first time like the kid Adam remembered, and twirled a piece of
cheese around his finger with a flourish, popping it into his mouth.
Adam couldn't help but laugh at the childish display. "Classy."
Still smiling, Tommy said, "Simple pleasures"
After that things were easier. Tommy seemed to lose some of his attitude and
they just talked. About school, and music, and what movies they'd seen
recently. Adam remembered why he and Tommy had been friends in the first place.
 
"Can you hang some more?" Tommy asked as they pushed through the doors of the
restaurant into the street.
Adam didn't really have a curfew on weekends, so he nodded, and they headed
towards Franklin Park. The trees seemed part of some stage set, illuminated by
the never-really-darkness of the city.
Tommy skipped ahead, twirling round and walking backwards so he could watch
Adam. He narrowly avoided trampling a small dog pulled out of the way by its
owner at the last moment, and then fell off the curb, laughing at Adam's wide
eyes. "Come on. Hurry up," he called, and Adam quickened his pace until they
were side by side. They crossed the road to the park.
Under the shadowed side of a tree, Tommy stopped and leaned against the trunk.
Adam's stomach clenched like it had when Tommy brought out the cigarettes after
the party.
"C'mere." Tommy gestured Adam closer with two slim fingers protruding from the
overlong sleeve of his coat.
Adam took a step closer. Impatiently, Tommy gestured again, and Adam stepped
close enough for Tommy to grab the front of his jacket. Adam's mouth went dry
as paper. He looked down at Tommy's hand fisted around the edge of denim
hanging open over his t-shirt. He imagined he could feel the heat of Tommy's
knuckles on his stomach, through the thin cotton and millimetres of air between
them. Tommy tugged at the fabric until Adam had his right foot between Tommy's
boots, until their thighs were nearly touching. Adam couldn't fill his lungs.
He stopped breathing altogether when Tommy's hand released his jacket and
snaked around his waist instead.
"No running off this time," Tommy said, before pulling Adam against him with
the hand on the small of his back. Adam felt Tommy's fingers twist in his hair,
and then they were kissing. Sloppy, hungry, open mouths and sharp teeth. Adam's
tongue slid over the ring in Tommy's lip, the taste of steel making his fingers
tighten on Tommy's shoulders. He'd never thought—never even imagined—that he
might be making out with a boy in the middle of a park, but he couldn't stop.
Releasing Adam's hair, leaving his scalp tingling, Tommy dropped his hand to
Adam's ass, canting his hips forwards, grinding against Adam's thigh as he
pulled Adam hard against his hipbone. Adam couldn't tell if the soft noises
reaching his ears were coming from his throat or Tommy's, or if they were
swapping moans as well as spit. He pulled away, gasping for breath, flushed hot
but with gooseflesh stirring the hair at the back of his neck.
Dropping his head back against the tree, Tommy breathed, "Fuck. When do you
have to be home?"
Adam took a second to figure out what the words meant and another to get what
the question implied. He tried to extricate himself from Tommy's grip, but
Tommy was stronger than he looked.
"No. Come on. You want this." Tommy rubbed lewdly against Adam's hard-on. "Let
me touch you." The hand on Adam's ass moved towards his fly. Adam looked wildly
around to see if anyone was watching them. "Or come home with me. No one's
there. Just for a little while. Please."
Adam found himself nodding. He did want this. He'd been able to pretend it was
just something to think about with the lights off, but now it was here in his
hands? Fuck.
Tommy kissed him once, hard on the lips, and taking Adam's hand, ran for the
bus stop.
Too late for commuters and too early for most of the nightlife crowd, the bus
was almost empty. There were four girls near the front laughing and shrieking
over something one of them was holding, and a guy sleeping with his head
against the window, but Tommy and Adam were alone in the back. Tommy had his
hand on Adam's dick through his jeans, the skirt of his coat draped over Adam's
lap. Adam wanted to stop him, wanted to thrust into that hand until he came,
wanted to suck on Tommy's lip ring and tongue. Instead he sat, stock still,
watching Tommy's reflection in the glass as Tommy smirked in the direction of
the giggling gang.
They wound through Studio City, Tommy's hand a constant tease making Adam's
breath catch and his thighs clench so tightly they ached. When the girls piled
off the bus Tommy leaned in and bit Adam's earlobe. "Next stop," he whispered,
and squeezed to emphasise his point. Adam bit his tongue and shut his eyes,
wishing desperately that Tommy would just leave him alone for a minute to get
some air in his lungs.
A group of older boys, sixteen or seventeen years old, pushed and shoved their
way to the fare box. Tommy apparently had some sense of self preservation left;
by the time they'd paid the driver, his hands were in his own lap and he was
leaning away from Adam, looking out the opposite window. The bus lurched,
knocking the smallest boy hard into the biggest. The tall one shoved him into a
seat. "Oy, faggot, watch where you're going."
Adam thought he might throw up.
Nothing else happened though. The small boy held out a placating hand, and
said, "Sorry, sorry. I just lost my balance." Everyone ignored him.
When they'd all settled into seats, Tommy stood and pressed the bell. Hunching
in an effort to hide the bulge in his jeans, Adam followed him over the
obstacle course of sprawling legs to the stairs. The cool air when the bus
doors opened to release them into the night was a relief.
They were still about half a mile from Tommy's house.
As they walked past the corner where Adam's dad had picked him up after Tommy's
party, Adam wondered what he was doing following Tommy home. Then his stomach
flipped as he remembered the feel of Tommy's tongue in his mouth, and he wished
they were there already.
Tommy used his key to let them in. When the door shut behind them he asked, "Do
you want a drink?"
Adam looked at him. "No."
Tommy's smile was wolfish, and scary, and made Adam's dick jump. "Right.
Upstairs then?"
Tommy's bedroom was no cleaner than the last time Adam had seen it; Tommy
kicked aside a pile of books and clothes to clear a path to the bed. He flung
his coat over his desk chair and pushed Adam's jacket off his shoulders to get
lost in the general mess. He tugged at Adam's shirt, starting to pull it off,
but then got distracted by Adam's neck, hooking his hand around the back of it,
kissing and biting the spot under his ear. When Adam moaned and sank onto the
bed, Tommy followed him down.
They grappled, mouths and hands hot on each other's skin, clothing pushed and
tugged and stretched, legs tangling and pressing, kissing forever. Finally they
lay panting—Adam with one foot on the floor, Tommy half on top of him, booted
feet hanging off the side of the bed. Adam disentangled his fist from Tommy's
twisted t-shirt, allowing him to sit up and unlace his boots. Adam felt sure
his own shoes should be easier to take off, but Tommy was sitting between his
legs and he wasn't sure he could sit up.
After he finished removing his boots and pulled his shirt off over his head,
Tommy nudged Adam in the thigh. "No shoes on the bed." He fingered the hem of
Adam's shirt and then ran the flat of his hand across Adam's stomach. "Shirt
off too." Abandoning his exploration of the edge of Adam's ribs, he pulled Adam
up by the arm. While he was toeing his shoes off, Tommy took care of his shirt
for him. Adam crossed his arms over his chest and shivered in the draught
coming around the edge of the window.
"Do you want to get under the covers?"
Adam nodded.
They lay down next to each other, comforter up to their shoulders. Adam wasn't
sure what he was supposed to do, but then he didn't have to think about it
because Tommy was pushing him down onto his back and kissing him again, and his
arms wrapped around Tommy's waist of their own accord.
Adam had never thought much about the rings people seemed to be putting into
their noses and eyebrows and lips these days, but he was drawn to the click of
metal against his teeth, to the slide of it against his tongue, as Tommy opened
his mouth to Adam's kisses. Tommy's skin felt thin and stretched tightly over
his bones, but it moved under Adam's hands, softer and more pliable than he'd
expected. Then Tommy had his hand on Adam's stomach again, fingers teasing
under his waistband, and all thoughts of skin and lip rings were replaced with
a need to have those fingers wrapped around him, tempered by a fear of Tommy
touching him there without the dubious protection of denim.
Tommy apparently had no such fear because he was fumbling with Adam's button
and zipper, pushing Adam's boxers out of the way, and sighing into Adam's mouth
as his hand reached flesh. "You're so hard."
Adam could feel himself blushing but Tommy was kissing him again and didn't
seem to care. Tommy was hard against Adam's hip, his thigh heavy on Adam's leg,
his fingers cupping the back of Adam's head. Adam thrust into the hand stroking
him, tilting his head back, hoping Tommy would take the hint, would bite him
again. Tommy tried to follow his mouth but then gave up, kissing Adam's jaw and
down the side of his throat. He licked along Adam's collarbone, and Adam
groaned in frustration. Tommy sped up the motion of his hand, and that was
good, but wasn't what Adam wanted. He tried to press his shoulder up into
Tommy's mouth.
Tommy stopped everything and looked at him. "What do you want?"
"Fuck. Don't stop. Just… don't stop."
"What else?" Tommy resumed jerking.
Adam's need for Tommy's teeth overcame his need to not have to say the words
out loud. "Bite me."
Tommy nipped at the skin over his collarbone and then bit hard into his chest.
Adam could feel Tommy sucking a bruise up into his mouth, edges defined by the
twin curves of his teeth. It hurt more than he'd expected. He gasped, twisted
against the weight of Tommy's leg, and thrust into the fingers tightening
around him, coming messily over himself and Tommy's hand and the sheets.
Tommy had a gleam in his eye when he looked down at Adam that made Adam look
away. It was like Tommy could see every thought Adam had ever jerked off to in
secret, and Adam couldn't face anyone else knowing about all that. "I should
go," he mumbled into the pillow.
"Not yet." Tommy took Adam's hand and placed it over the bulge in his jeans.
"My turn."
None of Adam's fantasies had prepared him for the feel of another guy's dick in
his palm. It wasn't like having his hands on himself; it was the wrong angle
and a different shape. But even with the wrong hand, it felt good. So fucking
good.
Tommy undid his buttons and moved Adam's hand into his pants.
"No, I'm right handed," Adam blurted at the first touch of skin.
Trying to get a better position, Tommy rolled further on top of Adam, but there
was no room on the other side of him to lie. "Stupid single bed. Scoot over."
Tommy lifted up a bit to give Adam wiggle room.
With more difficulty than it should have taken, they got themselves situated so
Adam could use his right hand. And that felt even better. It was still an
awkward angle, and it was strange to have all the sensation in his hand with
none on his dick, but he liked it. He could feel the weight of Tommy, the heat,
and the softness of his skin. They'd pushed the covers off in their manoeuvring
and Adam found the sight of his hand moving on Tommy arresting. When Tommy
started whimpering and tugging at Adam's hair, he leaned in to bite Tommy the
way Tommy had done to him, gazing down the length of Tommy's chest as Tommy
shot.
Tommy dropped his head to the pillow and Adam lay his head on Tommy's shoulder.
Curious, he ran a finger through the cooling streaks on Tommy's skin and put it
to his tongue.
Tommy tried to look at him. "What are you doing?"
Adam didn't know. "I don't know."
"You're different than I remember."
Adam stiffened.
"Never said that was a bad thing."
"So why'd you call me, really?" Adam asked, relaxing a little under Tommy's
stroking fingers.
Tommy squeezed him tighter. "This wasn't a good enough reason?"
Giving himself a moment to think of an answer, Adam pulled the covers up,
tucking them in. And then he realized that was an answer in itself.
"Thought so," Tommy said into Adam's hair.
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