Elvis One Shots/Imagines

Tomorrow is a Long Time - Elvis

A/N : Request by @ThunderCub007 3 parts

"How do you think I feel
Knowing your love not real?"

With a guitar in hand, you leaned towards the microphone and started the classic number. The audience clapped along with each beat. You continued with the song, swaying slightly with the jaunty music and enjoying the way the audience interacted. With a final strum of the guitar, you were done. The stage lights had made you a little sweaty and you looked happily onto the audience as they clapped for your group.

You went off into the stage left wings, placing your guitar down and accepting the glass of water a friend had for you. They were announcing the next group, Elvis Presley and the Blue Moon Boys. You weren't familiar with their music or their group.

"Y/N! We did great!" Your brother Jimmy said with a toothy grin, stealing your glass of water. He'd sang with you up there.

"Yeah!" You said back breathily. "I wonder if Daddy'll like it."

"Ah Hank likes all you do," one of the other members said.

"I sure hope."

A man in a pink suit quickly walked past you and the group, followed by men in black carrying a variety of instruments. His quick stride and flamboyant outfit surprised you and you turned to watch them go on stage. You didn't get the chance to see their faces.

From the side of the stage, you saw them organize themselves in front of the audience. The man in the pink suit right in front, a guitar hanging from his shoulders and his black hair falling over his face. He looked over his shoulder for a second and you caught a look at his face. Tan skin, plump and pink lips that were parted, and blue eyes that had a certain intensity that made you suck in a breath. He hadn't even seen you, yet you felt like he'd seen right through you.

He awkwardly spoke a bit with the announcer, then took a deep breath. Elvis Presley was his name, the singer of the group. In a shaky voice he leaned into the mic and started, "baby, baby, baby, baby, bab-uh. Baby, baby, baby..."

His voice hitched at one of the baby's, making your eyebrows go up with it. He seemed nervous as all hell, his leg bouncing and making the pant leg look as though it was vibrating.

"Get a haircut, ferret!" A voice from the audience called. Jimmy chuckled from beside you and you smacked his chest.

At the sound of the heckling, Elvis Presley seemed to transform. His body which was jittery and uneven still shook like a leaf, but there was a new spark of energy to his movements. They seemed intentional and excited. With a breath that seemed to reach the pits of his lungs, Elvis called out in a purely Southern voice,

"Wellllllll, you may go to college
You may go to school
You may have a pink Cadillac
but don't you be nobody's fool."

You watched his movements, flashy and quick with each beat of the song. There was something to it, something you couldn't describe no matter how hard you tried. Then a girl in the crowd cried out, hand coming to her face as she continued to wail without knowing why. You watched her watch him, eyes wide as she stood and gawked at the handsome boy moving across the stage.

Then more women started to cry out, voices high as they rose from their seats and leaned forward to get the best view of Elvis Presley. You felt your own chest tighten when he turned towards your for a second, your cheeks heat with the intensity of his performance and his gaze. There was something to him that was unlike any other. You clutched your hands to your chest to try and contain yourself.

At one point, you went to turn to Jimmy and saw your father's manager staring at you curiously. Colonel Tom Parker was an old man with a crooked nose and a sickly sweet voice. His beady little eyes were trained on you and how you were watching Elvis perform. The gusto seemed to blow out of you, the excitement of him gone with the creepy gaze of the Colonel.

But you saw Jimmy watch Elvis, completely entranced by each jerky movement and thrusting hips. His jaw fell and you knew in that moment the two of you were feeling the same things. But when Elvis thrusted his hips in your general direction, you knew Jimmy and you had very, very different reactions. You blushed and covered your face, he made an expression of disgust.

The women in the crowd understood all the excitement and they clawed for Elvis as though he was a prize to be won. One girl got the very suit jacket off his shoulders and held it high above her head in pride. Elvis fell behind the curtain, gasping for air. He and the band members started to smile and look at one another in triumph. He turned towards you and stopped, his smile still wide as his hair fell on his forehead in black waves.

"Hi there," he said, lip curling up.

"You did splendid." Splendid? Splendid?? Were you a grandmother complimenting her grandson's ballet performance. So you overcorrected, "It was bitching."

He laughed a raspy, Southern laugh. "Thank you, doll. What's your name?"

"Y/N Snow."

His brows raised, "you Hank's kid?"

You nodded and he let out a whistle. Then he offered his hand out, "I'm Elvis Presley."

"Pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine, darlin." One of the members called to him and he went to turn away.

In a slightly scared voice you called out, "would you like to meet tomorrow? Maybe for a hot dog?"

He turned with a smile, "tomorrow's a long time."

"It is."

"Why don't we go get one now?"

"Okay," you said, trying to contain your blush.