Title: Aftermath
Author: Leela (leela_cat)
Pairing/Characters: Adam/Tommy
Rating: PG
Word Count: 10x100
Content/Warning(s): AU
Author's notes: Written for glam_100, Open Week, for which I chose prompt #029: performance anxiety. Many thanks to aislinntlc for the preread.

This continues from last week's drabble-set, Dinner is Served.


The first thing out of Leo's mouth when Tommy walks through the door is, "What did you do?"

"That's all you've got," Tommy says. "What happened to 'did you get the gig'?

"You got the gig. I never doubted that." Smile fading quickly, Leo gets up from the couch and comes over to give him a hug.

She's warm and safe, easy in a way that nothing else in Tommy's life is right now. He takes a deep breath and moves into her embrace. Her arms tighten around him, and he clings to her, burying his face in her shoulder.

.o0O0o.

"Oh, Tommy." Leo strokes Tommy's hair. "Kick off those shoes and I'll get us a drink. Then we can talk about whether or not I need to kick Adam Lambert's ass."

He nods, mouth curving up into a smile despite himself at the image of Leo's stomping into the next rehearsal in her Doc Martens to confront Adam for him. It would be fucking awesome, if Adam deserved it.

Kicking off his shoes, he wriggles his toes and checks his socks for holes. None, thank fuck, but he needs to get out of his audition clothes before he starts drinking.

.o0O0o.

"You can't kick Adam's ass," Tommy says, when she hands him a tumbler of Jack and joins him on the couch.

"Well, shit. Spoil all my fun, why don't you?"

"Always." Tommy puts his phone on the coffee table, settles against the cushions and stretches his legs across her lap. He sips his Jack. The burn is so fucking perfect; he takes another, larger sip and moans as it gets him a mouthful closer to ecstasy.

"There are laws against that noise." Leo sips her whiskey, settles a hand on Tommy's feet. Even through his socks, her hand feels warm.

.o0O0o.

"You only wish you could get that kind of sound out of your girlfriends," Tommy responds, just to get Leo riled up.

But she pats his foot and lets it slide. "Talk to me. I wanna know what the fuck Adam Lambert did that's got you so upset, after he hired you."

Tommy takes another sip, then tosses back the rest of his Jack and holds his glass out for more. When it's full again, and down one mouthful, he says, "He kissed me."

"Well, that fucking bastard. Kissing a boy," Leo says. "I thought he was better than that."

.o0O0o.

"The fuck of it is that I don't know why." Tommy's feeling the Jack now, enough that he can talk without totally freaking the fuck out. He still keeps his eyes on his glass, on the whiskey and melting ice cubes, as he says, "We went out for dinner afterwards, you know, me, Adam and the band."

"Good food?"

Tommy glances at her through his eyelashes, but doesn't take the out she's offering. "Amazing sushi, but that wasn't the problem."

When Leo waits without commenting, Tommy sighs and continues, "Thing is, I haven't a fucking clue why he kissed me."

.o0O0o.

Leo looks like she's thinking of saying and then discarding at least half a dozen responses before she asks, "Was he any good?"

Tommy stares at her. "Was he any... what the fuck, Leo? I'm scared shitless here. I just got the best job of my life, and I don't even know what I've done."

Her grip on his foot becomes painful, giving Tommy something to focus on other than his growing panic. "Breathe," she says. "In and out. Yeah, that's it."

"I just met the dude. Like today. And he's my boss. Goddamn it, Leo, why now? Why him?"

.o0O0o.

It's just about everything Tommy wants, and he got it all on the same day, wrapped up in the same person. And if he fucks it up, like every relationship he's ever had, every band he's ever been in, he'll lose everything.

It's like a recipe for failure, designed specifically for him.

Then Leo asks, "Do you like him?"

It's an innocent word, like, but it slams right through him, swamping him with an image, a memory, of being on his knees in front of Adam Lambert and the need that rose up in him, that still aches in him.

.o0O0o.

"It doesn't matter," Tommy says when he can breathe again. "I took off. Barely gave him enough time to get out of the way before I backed out of the parking spot."

"You almost ran down Adam Lambert? I'd love to have seen that." Leo runs a hand over his foot and curls it loosely around his ankle. "Some days I wish you were a girl. You'd be perfect for me."

Not knowing what to say, Tommy pulls his legs in, hugs them to his chest, one hand still wrapped around his glass, and rests his chin on his knees.

.o0O0o.

"You'd end up hating me if we were together," he finally says. "Just like all my exes."

"No, I wouldn't. And it's not all of them. Carlos still talks to you."

"He totally doesn't count."

"Yeah, baby, he does." Reaching out, Leo pats his leg before stealing his glass. She's in the middle of pouring more Jack into it when his phone buzzes. On the second ring, she puts down the bottle and says, "Answer it."

Tommy shakes his head, because it could be Adam, is probably Adam, and he just can't deal.

"Answer it or I will."

"Nope."

.o0O0o.

Leo doesn't argue with him, doesn't give him shit, just reaches over and answers his phone. And Tommy can't help but listen.

"Tommy's phone," she says. Then she's silent for a few seconds. "He's busy right now I could—"

She stops and nods. "He's fine."

Another pause and then, "Yep."

"I could—" she glances over at Tommy. "Are you sure? It's not the best—"

"Okay, I'll shut up about that." This time she smiles, seeming almost approving, and Tommy can't decide whether to strangle her or grab his phone from her, or both.

"No problem," she says, then closes his phone.

Promises in Purple Ink continues in Morning After (the Night Before).


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