After Adam and Tommy’s first foray into fanfiction (about themselves of course), Adam found himself unable to stop. Yes, much of it made him very uncomfortable and was very inaccurate, but it was addicting. Call him narcissistic, but it was fun to read stories where he was the main character.
Especially all of the crazy, insane, adorable and creative fantasy stories. I mean where else could he read about himself being the prince of a legion of fairies? With Tommy as his slave?
Unfortunately, this small addiction may have backfired a little one day…
Adam was just walking down the street, minding his own business, doing some shopping, when things…got a little weird. Well, for one, it suddenly became night time at 3:30 in the afternoon. For another, Tommy was poised next to a light pole in a neon colored miniskirt, tube top, thigh-highs and way too much eye makeup (Adam didn’t think that was possible), all while licking his bright red lips, looking at Adam.
“Ok…Sooo… that’s not normal,” Adam muttered to himself before walking up to the strippified Tommy.
“Yeah, pretty. How’d you guess? Has my fame preceded me? And who would you be cutie pie?” Tommy smacked on his chewing gum before throwing smug smirk Adam’s way.
“Wait…What? Tommy, it’s me!”
“I can’t be fucking expected to remember everyone’s name, now can I? Tell you what,” Tommy wound his legs around the light pole as he spoke, “How’s about you tell me what you want, and I’ll tell you how much it’ll be,”
“What I want…I just fucking want you to tell me what the hell’s goin on!” Adam put his hands up in a confused gesture. Tommy looked at him like he was stupid.
“What the hell do you think’s goin’ on?”
“I don’t- I-Uh-“Adam turned away from Tommy with the intention of sorting out his thoughts and instead saw…Tommy. Again.
“AAh! But I- You?” Adam flipped around again to see that the hooker Tommy was in fact, gone. This Tommy was clearly different. He was dressed in an entirely silver, mirror-finished jumpsuit. Silver jumpsuit? Really? Are we astronauts or David Bowie?
“Adam! Come on! You know Club Voodoo gets crowded,” Club VOODOO? What alternate universe had he transported into..?
Adam didn’t ask any questions though; he just followed as Tommy led him to the pounding club. And pounding was an understatement.
God damn, this club could not be real. It was dark but every surface was covered in glowing lights and the air was thick with cloying smoke. Adam lost track of Tommy in the mayhem and was unwilling to try and join in to the drama and dancing. Strange, yes, but this place was hurting his head a little. Well that, and the sheer confusion of what the living hell was going on.
It should’ve been a fucking amazing club, but everything was too…exaggerated. It felt like he was in a psychotic daydream of a club, not a real one.
He found refuge in a darker, quieter corner where there were several little platforms, each with a different stripper on it. It was oddly enough, the most peaceful part of the whole place. Most everyone else was lost in the Ke$ha Take It Off style orgy going on in the main dance floor.
Only one of the strippers was male, so Adam, as he thought about how to fix this situation, let his gaze wander to him, absentmindedly.
However, Adam felt his mouth fall open in absolute horror as his eyes moved up and he recognized the face on the stripper. Holy mother of God…