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Sock Syndrome	By : Rina76 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Tokio Hotel Views: 2480 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know Bill and Tom Kaulitz, or any members of Tokio Hotel. I do not know Adam Lambert. I am not making any money from the writing of this story. None of the following actually happened.

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Holy. Shit. Holy shit, holyshitholyshitholyshit...

That was what ran though Adam Lambert’s stunned mind as he stood there amongst his silent cohorts, staring speechlessly at the rather imposing male person who had just walked over and greeted him. Adam knew he should respond but he couldn’t. His mouth had fallen open with shock and refused to shut. How was he supposed to talk when he was unexpectedly confronted with Bill friggin’ Kaulitz, the spectacular lead singer of Tokio Hotel and gorgeously androgynous object of his hopeless infatuation? He’d been sneaking what he thought were furtive glances at Bill all night (and been caught a couple of times) but Adam never could have predicted that the boy would actually come over here. Not only had he done precisely that, but Bill just spoke to him and was now looking at Adam with a raised, ringed eyebrow, awaiting some kind of answer, his dark eyes deep and hypnotic, seeming to pin the second man to the spot.

Fuck.

Adam was utterly terrified. Bill’s presence was overwhelming and arresting, blotting out everything and everyone else in the room. The kid was already tall but his boots and big black Mohawk made him look even taller and more intimidating. With that and all his piercings, makeup and leather Bill looked like a futuristic punk, cornering him in a dark alley and demanding his wallet. Adam almost expected him to flick out a silver switchblade and hold it to his throat. Cringing at the daunting, fierce-looking young man before him, Adam held up his hands in fearful surrender.

“Oh God, please don’t hurt me!”

Bill blinked, shifting a bit. Had he heard right? It had sounded like "Please don´t hurt me", but then it was very loud here with the music and Bill´s heartbeat was pounding in his ears. Besides, his English was far from perfect and he had trouble hearing the words right, even though he practiced a lot lately (whenever he had time he would watch the English television series Scrubs with original tone. Bill loved Scrubs!). He didn´t feel as self-assured speaking in a language that wasn´t his mother tongue; he was afraid of mishearing, or misunderstanding things, using the wrong tenses and whatnot. Maybe he should just leave. That Adam guy didn´t look too thrilled anyways.

So managing a thin smile, Bill decided that he must have misheard and replied "Pleased to meet you too." Adam must have said 'Pleased to meet you' of course.

Now it was Adam’s turn to blink. He lowered his hands, gazing at Bill in surprise.

“You’re not mad at me? I thought you’d be mad at me.”

Before Bill could even reply, Adam started to deliver his apologetic defence, speaking rapidly and anxiously. “I’m sorry for talking about you so much, Bill. I didn’t mean to offend or upset you, I promise! It’s just that you’re a huge idol of mine and I love your style, your hair and your clothes and I think you’re so amazing and inspiring and I just...really...Like you. A lot,” he finished lamely, aware that he’d just made himself look like a star struck fan and total babbling idiot in front of the biggest crush of his life.

“Sorry.” Adam winced at his own embarrassing behaviour. “I’ll shut up now.”

Bill kept staring at the nervous man, lips parted in concentration, eyes slightly narrowed as he tried to understand what the man was saying. It was too fast and he didn´t get half of it, but apparently Adam was paying him compliments. At one point he simply stopped trying to follow the monologue and had a bit of a closer look. He only knew Adam from pictures or TV shows (and from the CD he had secretly bought, because he wanted to know what kind of music the man who openly declared his crush on him made and to his surprise Bill had quite enjoyed it!). It was kind of strange to stand here now, facing him, knowing that the guy was interested in him. To Bill he was sickeningly fascinating and the singer from Tokio Hotel /was/ curious.

Adam´s last sentence pulled him out of his reverie and Bill noticed that he had been staring. He naturally played it down by putting a hand on his hip and looking as if he had every right to stare.

"It´s okay," he then graciously explained. "Actually I would like to talk with you some more."

“Really?” Adam couldn’t hide his astonishment at Bill’s cordiality. “Cool. I’d...um...like that too.”

The older man dropped his eyes, feeling foolish, his fingers nervously plucking at the studs on his cut-off gloves. Bill was wearing the same kind of gloves. His nails were painted black and so were Adam’s. It suddenly struck the Idol runner-up how similar he was dressed to Bill and he was filled with horror, praying that Bill wouldn’t accuse him of ripping off his unique fashion sense. Okay, so Adam admittedly borrowed some aspects of Bill’s rock-star style but only because he admired Bill so much and was inspired by his taste for glitz and glamour. He would never deliberately copy the other boy’s look. Lots of musicians wore these types of gloves, right? He discreetly moved his hands behind his back, tying to peel the leather items off and stuff them into his back pocket before Bill spotted them. Without even needing to look, Adam could feel the curious eyes of his friends on him and that only increased his nervousness.

But maybe he wasn’t the only nervous one. It must have taken a lot of courage for Bill to come over here alone and speak to him, especially in front of all of Adam’s highly interested crew. Poor kid was probably uncomfortable with all the attention, though he hid it well. Turning to the group, Adam hissed, “For God’s sakes, stop staring at us, you guys! Don’t you have anything better to do?”

The others looked at each other and shrugged, resuming the animated discussions they were having before Bill walked over, the laughter and chatter flowing again as freely as the champagne was.

Now that some of the pressure had been taken off him, Adam felt much less tense and he noticed that Bill seemed more at ease as well. Realising Bill’s solo status and that the other boy’s twin and the rest of Tokio Hotel were nowhere to be seen, Adam hastily offered, “Do you wanna sit with us? We don’t bite, I promise. Here - Tommy, move over.”

At his urging, the blond bass guitarist of Adam’s band smirked, sliding across the couch and making room for Bill to sit down, Adam desperately hoping that he would.

"Sure." Bill shrugged and pattered past the people who drew up their feet to let him pass. It was narrow and crowded, and here was still the one or other glance into his direction, but at least the open staring had stopped. Bill didn´t mind being the center of attention, usually, but then again he usually felt more in control of the situation. On stage he could guide the masses with a simple gesture, make them jump, scream, sing. But these people here were rockstars on their own, not that easily impressed... And he was also talking to an openly gay guy who had expressed his interest in Bill. This wasn´t just a normal conversation between fellow musicians, and everyone knew it.

When Bill sat down on the couch he felt kind of lost. He sunk into the soft seat and felt his legs being too big and long and he had to shift a bit to find a position he was comfortable with. He stole a glance at Adam, who seemed equally freaked out, luckily. They must be a strange sight; the both of them in all their rock star glamor, with heavy make up and scary studs and leather clothes and here they were sitting like two shy school boys.

It kind of unnerved Bill, and so he cleared his throat, saying, "Congratulations on winning the award." And stealing it from us, he added in thought, but he wasn´t really envious. Adam probably deserved it.

His stomach tightening in discomfort, Adam wondered how the hell he should reply to that. Normally he’d be over the moon that he won an award, and he was indeed earlier, him and his whole crew giddy and ecstatic with the euphoric feeling of victory, but now that Bill was right next to him congratulating him on it, Adam felt like he took something from the kid. Tokio Hotel had been nominated in other categories as well and had missed out there too so it wasn’t just Adam they lost to but it still made him feel bad. Bill was being polite about it but Adam could sense a small amount of disappointment in his words and it made the older singer feel mean and somehow... undeserving. Sure, he had done a lot of work to make himself into a success but he also knew most of that success came from his stint on American Idol. Because of that popular television show his rise to fame had been swift and sudden whereas for Bill and his band it hadn’t been that way at all. Tokio Hotel had worked their asses off - day in day out - to become what they were now and they’d been doing it since they were what – twelve years old? If anyone deserved an award for sheer determination and persistence, it ought to be them.

“Uh, thanks, I guess,” Adam finally mumbled. “But I really wasn’t expecting to win...”

The blue-eyed man looked down and fidgeted, still feeling extremely self-conscious in Bill’s presence and unsure of how to proceed with the conversation. He didn’t want to talk about the award anymore but he didn’t know what other topic to bring up, his belly in knots and his tongue completely tied up. Shit, you’d think he’d never spoken to another good-looking guy before. It felt like a first date or something. When he was performing, he was the ultimate sex god, groping, licking and kissing his own guitarist, doing all these lewd, seductive moves with Tommy’s guitar or the microphone stand, wickedly lapping up the adulation from the titillated fans watching on. It made him feel sexy. But here, sitting next to the statuesque slenderness of Bill Kaulitz, Adam didn’t feel sexy at all. In fact, he felt short, fat and awkward, not knowing what to say. Though he was dazzled by Bill’s incredible elegance and beauty, Adam tried not to show it, remembering his manners and choosing to act like a gentleman rather than an overwhelmed fanboy.

“Would you like a drink? What am I saying - you’re twenty one; of course you’d like a drink,” Adam guessed, raising his arm and snapping his fingers to get a passing waitress’s attention. “Over here, honey!”

Taking two glasses of bubbly liquid off the offered tray, Adam thanked the uniformed waitress and then courteously handed one to Bill, the older man getting a thrill when their fingers accidentally brushed. Bill’s nails were so perfect and pretty, his hands small, like a girl’s. Glancing sideways at the slender singer, Adam gulped a mouthful of champagne, admiring how the coloured lights shining down from the roof played over the jet-black spikes of Bill’s Mohawk and caught in his long, feathery lashes, the boy’s succulent lips pink and shiny with gloss. Even the recent septum piercing he’d gotten (that rather resembled a bull-ring through his nose) did nothing to detract from Bill’s beauty. He was such a luscious little thing, delicate and soft, yet tough and edgy at the same time, the combined effect of his feminine appearance and cyber-punk clothing and accessories just totally fucking hot. Adam had to bite his lip not to blurt that out loud in case he scared the kid away.

Instead, he took a deep breath and leaned in to say, “I really like your new piercing, Bill. It looks awesome on you. But then, so does everything.”

"Thanks," the young man said, instantly grabbing the offered glass and downing it in one go. He could feel the alcohol taking effect already. In Germany he was allowed to drink beer and other alcohol with 16 already, and he had been drinking before. But Bill was very disciplined and seldomly drank anything but non-alcoholic stuff. When they were in the States he wasn´t allowed to anyways, though they could easily get it here as well, amongst other drugs. He was a rockstar after all... Bottomline was, he felt a bit dizzy already, the loud music and voices blurring and the lights and colours mingling. It also made him a bit braver.

Leaning back against the sofa he relaxed a bit, openly taxing the other, letting his eyes wander over the man´s muscular body, his handsome face. Adam was attractive, all right. But attractive in a gay way? Did Bill find him sexually attractive? He didn´t know, but he was set on finding out.

"I like your style too. It´s... how do you say it in English... Steht dir..." He frowned, searching his foggy brain, before his face lit up a bit. "Suits you...?" Tilting his head at Adam in question, he added for explanation, "Sorry, my English´s not so good, I´m still learning."

Adam smiled, both at Bill’s flattering comment and his adorable uncertainty at using the right words. “Don’t worry – I can understand you just fine. And forgive me for saying this, but oh my God Bill, you have the cutest accent /ever/!”

The moment he’d said it – or rather, gushed it - Adam kinda wished he hadn’t. He blamed it on all the celebratory drinks he’d guzzled since he got handed the award. And even before that. He was already an outspoken individual who stated what was on his mind and when he’d been drinking it got even worse. He knew it was a big risk to flirt with the German celebrity (and it was actually the second time he’d flirted with Bill since he came over here) but Adam just couldn’t help himself. The spiky-haired singer was just too irresistibly cute. Besides, Bill really didn’t seem to mind. If he did, he’d have walked off already. But he was still on the couch next to Adam, gazing curiously at him, those shadowed chocolate-brown eyes dancing over Adam’s face and clothing. The American musician knew he was being checked out and found it both thrilling and frightening. He hoped Bill liked what he saw. Adam put a lot of careful consideration into creating his appearance tonight, with the suit and the hair and the glittery makeup, so he hoped all the hours of painstaking styling paid off for him. Seriously, this was the prettiest he was ever gonna get and if it didn’t impress Bill, there was nothing else he could do.

It wasn’t Bill’s fault but the boy was just so damn beautiful he made everyone else around him automatically feel like crap. Including Adam. Maybe that’s why Adam wore similar clothes to Bill – because he wanted to borrow some of that beauty.

Or get sued for copyright infringements.

In an attempt to change the subject to a more neutral one, Adam was about to say something trivial regarding the warm weather outside when one of his friends on the couch jokingly roughhoused with another, both of them bumping into Adam and jostling him sideways, making his thigh inadvertently come into full contact with Bill’s, their legs pressing together from hip to knee. Though they were separated by two layers of leather, it still felt horrendously intimate and inappropriate. Apologising, Adam immediately moved his leg away and sat up stiffly, not wanting to do anything that Bill might misconstrue as hitting on him. He didn’t want to offend Bill or have him think that Adam was some kind of leering pervert who just wanted to get in his pants.

Then Adam realised how silly and uptight he must look perched there on the edge of the sofa with his knees together like a nun at Sunday school and gave himself a mental bitch-slap, forcing his rigid posture to loosen. Why did he care so much about what one punk kid thought of him, anyway?

Because that punk kid was the hottest kid in the world and Adam was practically in love with him, that’s why.

Deciding to cut through all the agonising small-talk bullshit, Adam sighed, knowing he’d never get another chance to tell Bill Kaulitz how he really felt so he may as well do it tonight. It may be a spectacularly bad decision but at least Adam could say he tried. If he didn’t try, he knew he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Anyways, if he failed and ended up embarrassing himself, he could always blame it on being drunk. Yay, alcohol. Finishing off his champagne for extra courage, Adam put the glass down and turned to face his secret crush.

“Sorry if I’m acting all weird around you, Bill. To be honest, you intimidate the hell out of me,” Adam confessed. “So does your brother. Tom hates my guts. I know he does. You should have seen the livid look he gave me earlier. Won’t he be pissed off that you’re over here talking to me?”

Maybe it was the alcohol or the sudden, unexpected closeness but Bill could feel his cheeks heaten up. Hopefully his heavy make-up would hide that...

Someone who was quite considerate had already placed a new, full glass of champagne before the singer and he downed that as well, pretending that he was a professional drinker. So Adam found his accent cute... Bill wasn´t sure if he liked that term. He was called a lot of things on a daily basis, but he wanted to be taken seriously. It was still a challenge to be seen as musicians that produced some darn good music, especially in his home country where most people still saw them as some kind of hyped teeny band. But they were so much more and they had fought hard to finally be acknowledged! Every little trophy, every award was so very satisfying because it showed the world that they were not just a one-hit-wonder, something the little girls gushed over.

On the other hand he had to admit that he /had/ an accent and besides Adam was an American and they were a bit strange anyway.

Upon their legs touching Bill stiffened for a moment, but it was as clear as day that it hadn´t been Adam´s fault. There was a bit of disappointment flashing in Bill´s foggy brain when the other drew away immediately as if he had been burnt by the touch. Maybe Adam didn´t like him that much after all. Maybe all his fanboy babbling on TV had been just for show? Maybe Adam wasn´t even gay...

But the explanation followed suit and Bill relaxed again, making a dismissive gesture with his hand, and waving at a waitress for another glass of the sparkling fluid that swept all his concerns and caution away.

“Who cares,” the young man snorted with a morose expression. “It´s not like he is my Erziehungsberechtigter... legal guardian it is in English, I think.” That trademark eyebrow of his lifted up again. Okay, so this was a lie, because actually Bill did care about what Tom said and thought, but right now Bill was pissed at him and sick of being patronized. A part of him hoped that Tom would see him talking to Adam, a part of Bill that was fueled by something akin to silly teenage rebellion against a parent. But their parents had never told them what to do and what not; they had left their kids all the freedom they needed and naturally Bill didn´t like being told what to do, from no one. Not even Tom.

“I always do what I want,” Bill continued in a casual manner, looking Adam slowly up and down again. Good gods- he was flirting with a guy! But that guy had continuously said that he found Bill hot, and truth be told Adam didn´t look half bad himself. Besides, Bill was slowly but surely getting drunk. Well, maybe not that slowly. “Just ignore him, I do that as well.” He shifted forward when his drink was delivered, sipping at it and then looking up at the other singer from beyond long lashes. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“Yeah, I got a younger brother named Neil,” Adam answered absently, his mind trying to grasp the fact that he was being flirted with! But wasn’t Bill straight? He’d said so. Or said he wasn’t gay, anyway. Hm, maybe he was a bit of both. Straight boys didn’t look at Adam the way Bill was looking at him, the younger one’s dark chocolate eyes boldly travelling up and down Adam’s body, as though he didn’t give a damn who saw him doing it. However, that could be because the kid had been guzzling down champagne like it was going out of fashion...

“Surely you don’t want to talk about my family life. That’s boring.” Adam leaned in closer until their thighs were touching again, smiling and turning on his sexy American charm, especially now that he thought Bill might be drunk enough to be interested. “I’d much rather focus on YOU, Mr. Kaulitz...”

............

To be continued...(and thank you Aerys Krystie for your lovely review!)
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Sock Syndrome