They found the light switches. Now, it was easy to see which ones were really gay and which ones were just in it for the fun. Those who had never felt even the least bit hot for a guy left the club as things started to get heated in the darkness. Too much for the "barsexual" homophobic freaks. He slid easily into the crowd and found me waiting for him, just like that.

Just a few touches and it was on. The heavy groping, the "only for tonight" dirty words whispered into each others ears. I could barely see his face through the red light. But I knew what Adam Lambert could do. He could make you feel like the hottest thing in that room, or the least interesting. You couldn't say no to this man. Feeling the heat radiating off his body as he inched closer. And then,

"Wait, are you Adam Lambert?"

Bitch.

He turned, smiling like he did for every fan. The soft light was glinted off his teeth and he looked like, a vampire. The short dude in front of him was clearly mesmerized.

"Yes I am."

"My boyfriend and I are huge fans. Could you maybe, give me an autograph,". Groupie.

"Sure," he took the piece of paper, "to whom?" Excellent. Adam the nicest guy on earth couldn't spend just one fucking minute with his real boyfriend without talking to someone else. Not that we were boyfriends, well. I left the dance floor. He would come find me, soon. In a million years.

I sat down on a bar stool and looked away. As far away as I could from the spot he was at I heard footsteps behind me.

"Babe, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just don't feel good." A short pause, I fiddled around with my nails, not really paying attention. He looked at me for a while. Not really understanding, but understanding a little.

"You've been acting strange lately, Brad. I was thinking, the fans, the paparazzi, it must be getting to you. It's getting to me too, sometimes I wish it would all just go away. You're my only escape from all this, and I can't bear seeing you like this," he took one of my hands in one of his own.

Sometimes, when you love someone, and you hold their hand. It feels like home. It feels like coming back to your room after a long day at work. That was how my hand felt in Adam's, but it shouldn't. I realized I was tearing. He took my head and put it against his chest, stroking my hair.

"You keep saying you love me, all the time. You don't realise how much it kills me knowing we're not together. It's no more just about the sex, Adam. I think, I'm in love with you." He held his hand still for a while, still in my hair for a while. My heart stopped. But he started his soft caresses again, this time gentler, like they had meaning.

"I love you too, Brad. And I mean it this time." I felt his lips on the top of my head as we snuggled closer and I knew he did.