"Excuse me," Johnny said, after the ceremony, "I am not going to hunt Adam Lambert down for the cameras like some sort of pathetic groupie. I haven't even listened to the bitch's album."
"Well, you should fix that, it's amazing," a voice said behind him, amused, and Johnny had that awesome moment of combined humiliation and defensiveness, and then he turned around and added a little starstruck-bitch to the pile, because fuck, Lambert was stupidly beautiful, and fucking tall, and had shoulders like a wall that you could climb.
He also had the twinkiest little doll of a twink on his arm Johnny had ever seen, all huge eyes and cheekbones and extravagant pretty, which Johnny felt was adding insult to injury. Lambert turned his beam onto Tara, which at least distracted her from the glare that said Johnny was a dick who did not deserve to have the best agent ever when he embarrassed her at public functions. "Can we borrow Johnny?" Lambert said.
"You are the worst agent ever," Johnny mouthed at Tara, who totally failed to leap to his defense as he was towed away, but he was mollified after it turned out he was being taken to Lambert's private dressing room, which was full of champagne and pot and a huge couch and a lot of very pretty boys and girl dancers scattered around the floor who all cheered when Lambert said, "Look who I found!" There was a lot of shrieking going on over the VIP gift bag, which Johnny had handed over to Tara at some point, which obviously had been a mistake.
He ended up squishing in on the couch next to the doll with cheekbones. Lambert was sprawled over the other half of it, arm stretched along the back of the couch behind them both, and one of the hot girl dancers climbed into his lap and went for him, grinding down while she kissed him.
"So this happens a lot when you're a rock star?" Johnny said to Cheekbones, loud and not a little snottily, because what the fuck was up with that, some of them were right there, hello.
"Not as often as it used to," Cheekbones said, and poked Lambert in the side. Lambert turned away from the girl bright-eyed and breathing hard and kissed him instead, deep and hard and beautiful, just taking his mouth like it belonged to him. After they broke for air, Lambert murmured, "Baby," and it was something low and private and not meant for anyone else.
Cheekbones was flushed up, which was an even better look on him. He jerked his head away a little and said, "Somebody give me the champagne, and what the fuck even is that thing?"
Okay, so they weren't assholes, just fucked up. Johnny could appreciate that, so he took the champagne and let Cheekbones—or rather Cheeks, as it turned out—snuggle aggressively into him and kiss him while the rest of Lambert's little harem giggled amongst themselves and kept passing around the good shit and taking turns nuzzling Lambert and groping him. Lambert seemed completely happy being pawed over, but when one boy fiddled with his belt, Lambert caught his hand away and brought it up and kissed it, smiling but firm.
Cheeks got even more pushy after that, like hello, everyone in the room hadn't gotten the picture that the cock was being saved for him. Not that Johnny was going to complain. This was shaping up to be a fabulously guilt-free makeout session, buzz buzz buzz of champagne and kissing and a beautiful boy's hand down his pants, and he wasn't even going to have to do the awkward, "My coach will kill me and possibly also you, she has ways," thing at the end.
The dancers were started to drift out, and Lambert was managing to slide the last one off to the side, so very obviously about to make his move, but when Johnny went to disentangle and follow the last pretty boy out of the room, Cheeks held on. Lambert was stroking the back of his neck with his knuckles, and Johnny could feel Cheeks shudder, going heavy-lidded. And oh, that was pretty, when no way Cheeks hadn't had it from Lambert before, seeing how much he wanted it again—
"Baby," Lambert said again, and he was kissing Cheeks' neck, so close Johnny could see his eyelashes were blond under the mascara. Lambert was using his teeth and ugh, this was unbearably hot. Maybe he could get away with watching.
"We don't do this," Cheeks said, forcing it out, but he had his hand laced over Lambert's on his belly. Lambert made a coaxing noise and nuzzled in some more. He was tugging at his own tie with his free hand, getting it open, and he cupped his other hand around Cheeks' throat and held him still for it. Cheeks groaned helplessly, and then he gritted his teeth and gripped Johnny's wrist and held on.
Lambert hesitated, raising his head and looking at Johnny consideringly, his fingers still on Cheeks' waist.
"Why don't you get comfortable," Cheeks said, inviting and pleading all at once, poor baby so clearly needed some way to pretend he was keeping it fake.
Johnny was about to say thank you but, because he totally didn't believe in interfering with other people's misery, except Lambert absolutely caved! He slid his hand around Johnny's head and tipped him in for a kiss of his own, and ugh, he was just so big, and with the tongue, and he was actually moving Cheeks into his lap with one arm and reeling Johnny in with the other easy as pie, like saying why yes he could handle two at a time, and—
"If I am getting in this much trouble I am so getting fucked, I am putting that out there right now," Johnny said, in one last-ditch attempt to be a good boy.
Lambert did this kind of growly thing and bit him and said, "Oh, honey, I am going to bend you in fucking half," and ohhhmygod, how long had it been since Johnny had gotten really amazing dick? What was he going to do, say no to the rock star? Please, Galina was just going to have to live with it. Also Johnny could pretend to have gotten sick from the rubber chicken, that would absolutely work.
Lambert was tugging Cheeks' head back, kissing him. "And you, baby," he said, a demand, and Cheeks was going all pink-cheeked and hot and murmuring under him, all yes and giving in, and this was such a good deed, Johnny was really a saint for this, and oh holy shit.
"What, no foreplay?" Johnny said, flailing as he was dragged flat, but Lambert just laughed and got Johnny's pants tugged down to his knees.
"Oh, you're going to be ready for it," Lambert said, and dropped his head to bite at the straps of Johnny's shirt as he pressed Johnny's knees up to his chest. "Ooo, I like these." He leaned over and fished out the lubricant from one of the stupid Japanese eggs, and he was just going to go for it, the fucker!
"You are not," Johnny said, outraged, and tried to wriggle, except he was all pretzeled up and Lambert was pinning him down that way, and oh my god, this was so fucking hot, and when Lambert's wet fingers slid over him, he tried to push back on them without planning to.
Johnny craned his head up and pointed at Cheeks, who had moved over to the pile of pillows on the floor and was smoking the rest of the joint, watching them. "Come over here and kiss me," he demanded, because he had some standards to uphold, and he was so not going to just be a little bitch for Lambert's—oh fuck that was a beautiful cock.
Cheeks was so laughing at him, and Johnny didn't care, because he wasn't letting it stop him from kissing, and oh my god, oh my fucking god Lambert was putting it in him, opening him up with it, and it hurt but it was so good, so good. Johnny tangled his fingers in Cheeks' collar and pulled him down and kissed him some more frantically, and he had his other hand in Lambert's hair yanking on it and oh he was being fucked so hard.
"That's it, take it like that," Lambert was saying tenderly, not slowing down at all, the fucking beautiful bastard, and Johnny couldn't do anything but take it, Lambert's hips rocking into him fast and steady. Lambert was kissing him, kissing him and Cheeks, licking that tongue of his into both their mouths, teasing Cheeks away. Oh, that was pretty, that was beautiful, watching how lost Cheeks' face got, lowered lashes dark and his mouth gasping; he had a hand gripped into Lambert's shirt, bunching it up at the neck, and he looked like he was being fucked when he was just being kissed.
Lambert broke away from him and smiled at Johnny, glittery-eyed and breathing hard, and he bent down to kiss him again and say, "Ready?"
"More than, come on," Johnny said, rolling his hips up into it, his cock was so ready for a hand, but then Lambert was nuzzling at Cheeks' neck and saying softly, "Suck him, baby," and oh he was good. Johnny whimpered, and Cheeks whimpered, and he managed to get his mouth around the head of Johnny's cock. Adam held up Johnny's legs over his shoulders and fucked him, slow and unbelievably deep, just bottoming out in him with that cock, and Johnny was just whining by now, he couldn't even want to help it anymore, and oh, oh, oh.
He stretched out long and lazily afterwards, and pulled himself back along the couch and patted the space between his legs, and Cheeks lay back against him and closed his eyes and tucked his face into Johnny's neck while Lambert slicked him open. Cheeks got foreplay, Johnny noticed indignantly, although that might have been because it broke him apart little by little, color rising in his face and lip caught in his teeth while Lambert worked him, nuzzled his cock, licked at him.
Lambert pressed Cheeks' legs back and sank into him, and his eyes drifted shut, dreamy. Cheeks opened his eyes to watch him, so hungrily Johnny had to stroke his head comfortingly. What, he was fresh off an orgasm, he was allowed to be a softy for a little bit, and anyway he couldn't help being a fan of lost causes. And oh, these two were so lost; Lambert had opened his eyes again and they were just staring at each other while his hips worked steadily, pumping, and Cheeks gave little hitching breaths that made Lambert shudder and fuck him harder, harder.
Johnny curled a hand around Cheeks' cock and kissed the side of his neck, and helped him get over the edge—arching back between them, gasping while Lambert kept driving, "Adam—Adam," over and over.
Afterwards Lambert pulled out and took off the condom, still hard—still hard, he still hadn't come, and he pulled Cheeks up and kissed him and said softly, "Stay here. I'm going to go play nice a little, and then I'm taking you home."
Cheeks bit his lip and said, "I fucking hate you sometimes." Oh, that was convincing.
Lambert laughed and kissed him again. "Baby, you came with me," he said, and then he smiled at Johnny, the cat with all the cream in the world, and kissed him too. "Thank you," he said.
He probably expected Johnny to be all, no, thank you. "You're welcome," Johnny said loftily instead, because he'd earned every last inch of that—granted, spectacular—fuck, and Lambert so didn't need encouragement. Cheeks snorted, already in front of the mirror putting himself back together, patting his face down.
Lambert pouted at both of them. "Oh, this is what I get," he said, packing himself away—Johnny watched, because engineering problems were interesting. No, nobody was going to be missing that out there at all. "I'm so happy we met."
"Bitch, please, you're on your knees," Johnny said, and got up only a little wobbly to rescue his own outfit, smoothing the straps. Tara would probably be pissed if he didn't circulate a little more himself. At least this crowd wasn't going to freak out if he went out looking like ten miles of well-driven road.
Lambert smacked Johnny on the ass as he went for the door. "And follow me back on twitter so I can dm you, bitch!"
"What, for another booty call sometime?" Johnny said.
"If you're unbelievably lucky," Lambert said, and blew him a kiss as he disappeared just fast enough that Johnny didn't manage to get the appropriate comeback out in time. Cheeks was perched on the counter lighting up the tail end of the joint again, head tipped back staring at the ceiling.
Johnny poked him in the chest and said, "Honey, you have yourself so much trouble there."
"Thank you, because I had no idea," Cheeks said. "I don't believe you said yes."
"He's not my problem," Johnny said, smugly. "You weren't turning him down anyway, sweetheart."
"I take back everything nice I've ever said about you. Nobody likes a know-it-all," Cheeks said, grumbly. "Don't you have to go back to New York and get flogged by your coach or something?"
"Yes, but it was worth it!" Johnny said, and kissed him again. He checked his face in the mirror, smoothed his shirt flat, and flitted back out into the still-milling crowd. Maybe he would do a routine to one of Lambert's songs to commemorate the event. Galina would have to forgive him if it had all been for research.