Fandom: American Idol RPS
Rating: Hard R
Summary: Danny experiences Adam.
Disclaimer: None of this is real. I do not mean any harm nor do I make any money from this. I claim no rights to any person/character mentioned herein.
Notes: Response to the ontd_ai Kink Meme request by anonymous: Danny/Adam. Prompt: Danny tries to prove he's not homophobic, but takes it a little too far. ;)
Extended Notes: This became a bastardized version of the prompt, but I think it still kind of fits. Also, I want to make it known that I love Kradam and will never abandon my OTP. This fic is just… well, creepy to be perfectly honest. And a little strange. Warning: Could be interpreted as slightly dub-con.
Danny slides his hands under his glasses, pressing his fingers hard into almost painfully fuzzy eyes. He would groan aloud in exaggerated expression of his dead tiredness, but Adam is still passed out on the couch across the tour bus’s common area and he doesn’t want to wake him…
He blinks rapidly, trying to clear the starry blur that his MacBook screen has become. The ontd_ai tab on his browser clears into view a moment later, as does the gif of Adam gyrating lustily during his Bowie Medley set.
He stares at the infinite loop. Again. Stares at Adam sweeping his hips and throwing back his head like he’s someone’s private dancer and can’t help but get himself off, too.
Danny has spent the last four hours trolling the AI Livejournal community for… what exactly, he doesn’t know.
Perhaps insight into what Adam means to the fanatics. Insight into what it is about him that inspires such foaming-at-the-mouth devotion, such trigger-button orgasms from just the curve of his lips.
Yeah, he had tried to imitate Adam during Idol’s run. And yeah, he had been jealous of Adam’s seemingly effortless ability to entrance every person who meets him, sees a photo of him, hears his voice, reads a detailed description…
But, why? What was the nature of the light in Adam that his envy wouldn’t let him see while those around him bathed in its glory?
He had never believed he would, but he finally came to understand the fascination (and then Hell looked at Danny Gokey and Danny Gokey looked back).
It went down earlier that night after the Philly concert.
They had one day of rest, so like the immature fools they could be sometimes, they went out to explore the nighttime culture of the city (i.e. get drunk at the clubs).
The reviews of his performance from the concert before (and the one before that. And the one…) had put Danny off a partying mood, so he went back to the bus early.
He wishes now there had been some kind of divine foresight to prevent him from making that fateful decision. But, like Sarver, he had missed something.
The second he realized Adam and Kris were alone in the tour bus and didn’t know he was there with them, he should have turned back and exited as quietly as he had entered.
He should have known what the two of them alone together would mean.
It wasn’t like he was ignorant of the fact they had started fucking each other after the first two weeks of tour.
Everyone knew, but were either too respectful or too chickenshit to say anything (Danny knows which category he fit in).
Everyone pretended they didn’t notice that either Adam’s or Kris’s bunk would be perfectly un-slept in when morning came.
Everyone pretended they didn’t know what was going on when Adam and Kris spent most of their free time together, away from the group.
When he first realized what was happening between them, Danny’s disapproval had swelled in his chest until it got carried straight up to the back of his throat. Still, he kept it to himself.
And, if they had just been fucking when he came into the tour bus that night, he would have simply backed off and returned to the clubs.
But, they weren’t fucking.
They were fighting.
“I thought... I thought we both wanted the same thing.”
Danny had never heard Adam sound so… unsure. It made his skin twitchy.
"We do. But, I can’t. And you know why.”
Kris had sounded penitent, afraid. Self-loathing.
Danny had remained frozen in the blocked-off doorway out of sight, despite the heavy guilt that immediately began demanding his retreat. He had known he was never meant to overhear the raw intimacy shared between them and yet his curiosity won out as easily as if it were running completely unopposed.
(Maybe what happened later was his punishment for ignoring that.)
“So, that’s it then?” Adam’s voice had stuttered and Danny’s heart had responded in kind, “You’re just gonna… forget this?”
As thick as Danny could be sometimes, even he had known what “this” meant.
And then it had all happened at once and Danny had never wished more to be able to control time and space than he did then.
The door behind him had burst open and Anoop’s and Matt’s raucous, drunken laughter literally had him stumbling forward in shock.
The bus’s backdoor had banged open a few moments later (Danny would later realize this was Kris escaping) and Adam had collided with him on his way to the refuge of the closest bathroom.
It had been only for the shortest moment in time, but even the self-absorbed, socially-retarded Danny had seen everything on Adam’s face.
And Danny knew. Knew with the certainty that there is a God.
They were in love.
(And not in the “right and godly” way.)
It was something that he had expected to disturb him. It should disturb him.
But, it was an undeniable truth. As inexorable and definitive as gravity.
And that was when things had started to shift.
That was the moment Danny first experienced how Adam could change people.
The foundation that had been created by the doctrines of his faith suddenly had dangerously unstable supports.
The structure shifted, some parts ground to dust, and Danny started to understand why some perceived him to be a dumbfuck bigot.
He had never considered himself a homophobe.
He had just been raised with the view that homosexuality was a spiritual disease that could be cured with the strength of the Lord’s love.
It is not the same thing.
But, is it just as bad as hating and fearing gays?
Danny is too afraid to answer that, but he has to accept this: there is nothing unnatural about the love Adam and Kris obviously shared.
In fact, the intensity of Adam’s feelings for Kris (that had been so heartbreakingly clear on his tear-slick face) is almost… inspiring. Pure.
And it was the pain caused by their nearly transcendent love that forced Danny unwillingly to his next revelation.
He had seen Adam upset before (ugh, that fiasco with his cousin), but Kris denying them had been a whole new level of injury.
Danny had never seen Adam defeated.
And that was it.
For a moment, it just made Danny angry.
Adam shared the winning title with Kris, he broke people’s kneecaps across the world when they fell at his feet after just the briefest of glances, he had a record deal and almost guaranteed success as a rock deity of an epicness unrivaled… but, that still wasn’t enough. He had to be the goddamn sun, too? (Oh, sorry… “gosh damn.”)
No matter how envious Danny was of Adam’s charm, he saw things for how they were: a hurting Adam was a jarring, loathsome, and just plain wrong thing.
It was a reaction that had taken him by complete surprise and it was unequivocally unwanted. But, he couldn’t deny it was honest.
And so late that night while the other male idols slept in their bunks and Adam crashed on the couch as if he couldn’t take being anywhere near Kris, Danny logged onto ontd_ai (who else loves the “HBIC” with such rabid loyalty?) and tried to make sense of his unpleasant change of heart.
The glitter-covered lens with which they view Adam is trippy. Everything he says or does equals some form of perfection.
Adam is the incarnate of everything lovely and enchanting.
The pictures, the gifs, the macros, the sound clips, the vids, the manips…
Adam is their temple.
And Danny… Danny could finally admit why. He finally looked through the haze of his jealousy, past the irrational bounds of his heterosexual frame of reference for what is beautiful and… sexy.
He’d always considered Adam a friend (despite being jealous, despite objecting to that “lifestyle,” despite acting like a douche), but now he was starting to… appreciate him in a way he wished he didn’t.
And well, it’s 3 AM, he’s confused, he’s feeling something and he doesn't think he can be content to just let things lie half-formed in his head.
He knows he should just get in his bunk and reassess this "awakening" after some sleep. Maybe after he wakes, romance between men will be spiritually wrong again and he won't disproportionally care about Adam's broken heart.
Maybe after he wakes, the idea of Adam won't be so shiny and blinding.
He's pretty sure he knows the right thing to do.
But then, sometimes Danny lacks good sense and social intelligence.
Danny slides out of the bus’s dining booth and steps silently over to the couch.
For a while, he just stands over Adam’s sleeping form and… appreciates.
Adam’s face tells the tragic story of his fight with Kris.
There’s a tense little line between his brows and the slightest downturn at both corners of his lips. Short mascara tracks make what almost look like intentionally painted marks on his cheeks. One arm is tossed up by his head as if he is expecting to be attacked.
But, Danny pays the most attention to the small space between Adam’s spread thighs.
Carefully, carefully, he straddles Adam’s leg and starts to lower himself down.
He holds his breath. The couch dips. Adam stirs.
When his belly presses into Adam’s, his eyes open and Danny almost runs away.
Adam tries to focus on him and Danny can see him struggling to discern the reality of waking up this way.
Danny takes advantage of his confusion and settles more fully on top of him.
A hand comes up and lays against his chest just as he starts to lean in.
“What are you doing?”
Adam’s voice is not the sleepy mumbling Danny had expected and is instead edged with warning. It still makes Danny hard, along with the heat he can feel through the thin layer of his sleep pants.
(And there. No turning back. Adam has made him hard).
Danny does an experimental tilt of his pelvis and the warm hand on his chest immediately becomes a point of pressure.
“No, no, no, Adam…” Danny shushes, bending his head low so that he can feel Adam’s breath on his face, “Please.”
He’s on a razor thin line. He has no doubt Adam could turn him into a rehab candidate (and he wouldn’t even fight back because he would deserve it for daring this in the first place), but he hopes he can appeal to his compassion and show Adam how much he needs this to happen. Show him how pathetically desperate and lost he is.
“Please don’t push me away.”
Bingo. Play the rejection card.
He knows Adam’s pain is still so close and he can only hope it muddles his judgment (he can ask for forgiveness later) because, truth: this is a really bad idea.
Danny counts the freckles on Adam’s lips while he waits for him to make up his mind. He needs the distraction because he seriously doesn’t know what he’s going to do if Adam says no.
After an excruciating forever in which Danny fears Adam is not far gone enough to allow this to happen, Adam yields.
He turns his face away, but his hand drops back to the couch.
Danny immediately presses in close to the curve of Adam’s neck because now that he has been given (conditional) permission to proceed, he feels completely out of his depth. Luckily for him, this act is instinctive.
He rolls his hips and the spike of pleasure is instantly addictive. So, he does it again. And again.
His mouth falls open against Adam’s collarbone and he pants into his skin like he’s on his last breath.
Danny goes from 0 to 10 in seconds and he's lost all control at this point. He's borderline hurting both of them with the force of his grip on Adam’s shoulder and the way he rubs himself furiously against his groin. He can feel the bump and catch of their cocks through the fabric and he thinks he might cry.
He wants to be inside Adam so badly, but he can guess what will happen if he tries (hint: he’ll find out first hand the result of human tissue connecting with concrete at 65 mph).
Adam is giving him this and only this.
(Maybe later Danny will question why.)
He’s making the most embarrassing noises ever (oh God, please don’t let anyone wake up), but he can’t help it. Underneath him, Adam is silent except for this choked-off sound he makes in the back of his throat with every thrust that moves him up the couch (and even if it’s just air being forced from his lungs by the crush of Danny’s weight, it still does ticklish things to Danny's spine.)
He can’t look Adam in the eyes because he’s either going to flip out on him for the disgust he’s bound to see there or come instantaneously (or both).
He seeks out Adam’s mouth with his eyes squeezed shut tight.
When his goatee rasps against Adam’s cheek, he hears Adam suck in his breath a little and Danny goes in tongue first before he misses his chance.
He seals his mouth over Adam’s, kissing him with a hunger that probably makes him seem even more pathetic.
It’s wet and noisy and makes Danny’s cock throb in time with the heartbeat he can feel in his throat.
(Adam tastes like some kind of rich and salty candy. Danny had been prepared for this.)
After a long moment in which Danny tries to lap up and swallow every drop of their shared saliva, Adam’s mouth firms and starts to move against his.
He’s still not groaning or grinding up, but (God Almighty), he’s kissing back.
In his eagerness, Danny wedges a hand in the nearly non-existent space between them and tries to jerk open Adam’s pants.
Even when Adam expresses his “no” with a short, but sharp tug to his shirt sleeve, Danny doesn’t miss a beat in his frantic rhythm. But, he removes his hand just the same.
So, Adam is going to make him come in his pants. He wants to be angry at him for that (and a small part of him is), but it’s not enough to make him stop.
He knows it’s disgusting. He knows how gross he must look humping Adam like a chubby bulldog without any dignity.
That’s not enough to make him stop either.
(No wonder there are people who fear this. It is like some kind of dark magic… And maybe part of him is hoping some of it will rub off on him.)
Kissing Adam, touching Adam, feeling Adam’s whole body with his… It is everything the stans fantasize.
He can feel that familiar buzzing at the base of his spine warning him that he better enjoy these next few seconds. He pushes himself further, thrusting against Adam with everything he has.
The length of his cock once again drags along Adam’s and he can feel that Adam is half-hard.
He bloodies his own lip as he rides out every pulse against Adam’s pliant body, trying to keep his scream trapped in his chest.
He goes bonelessly limp when there is nothing left, pressing his face to Adam’s shoulder and trembling all over as if he's about to fly apart.
He can feel Adam’s heart pounding out of sync with his and then Adam finally touches him. A gentle hand against his cheek that gives Danny (foolish, foolish) hope.
This had been the definition of a pity fuck, but maybe Adam suddenly feels something for Danny that he had never thought possible.
After all, it had happened to him.
He has no idea what any of this will ultimately mean, but he finds he is excited to find out.
He dares to open his eyes.
Adam is not even looking at him.
No, Adam is looking past him and his expression is eerily unreadable.
Danny has one last thought before Kris violently grips the back of his shirt and rips him off of Adam:
He will never be allowed to touch him like this ever again...
(... and he will never stop wanting to.)