It Was Always You

Cowboy Take Me Away

Happy Halloween everybody!

Blake steps back to examine himself in the mirror. He tugs on his jacket to straighten it, then pulls the finishing touches from his pocket, slips the dark sunglasses on and pins the badge his shirt. He thinks of Adam, and knowing the rock star, his costume will probably look like hell broke loose, complete with half of his tattoos showing. Blake looks himself over once more and gives himself his approval. Hell, for a guy whose favorite holiday is not Halloween it's damn good.

He slips out a little before nine, beginning to delight in the fact that he doesn't have to tell anybody where's he going or when he'll be back. Freedom is one of the perks of living the single life, entangled in a web of heartache and struggle, but that's another story.

Pharrell's place is buzzing with excitement by the time he arrives. He's not even got both feet in the door when he's hit with the strong smell of booze, the loud boom of music, and the sight of hundreds of people who he doesn't recognize, either because they're all dressed in elaborate costumes or because Pharrell has way too damn many friends.

He walks past someone wearing a set of wings that makes him wonder how they even got through the door before bumping into Pharrell, who's dressed as a mime. Blake thinks he hears him say something like make yourself at home before hurrying off, trying to juggle greeting late-comers and saying hi to everyone who's already here.

Blake wanders over to the refreshment table. He fills a plate with Halloween-themed cookies and is pouring a glass of something orange when he feels a tap on his shoulder.

He looks behind him and sees Adam grinning widely.

"Nice," he says, raising his voice to hear himself over the music.

"How'd you know it was me?" Adam pouts, removing the hat from his head and raking a hand through his messy hair.

Blake turns around, glass in hand. "I didn't say I knew it was you."

"Yeah, but you did."

"Wasn't too hard to figure out with that getup you've got on."

Adam glances down at himself then back at Blake, his eyes dancing. "You like it?"

Blake takes a minute to decide if he does. Adam's wearing a pair of worn jeans, baggier than usual, a red plaid button down with a brown vest on top, and a red bandana around his neck. Blake looks down at his feet to see that he's wearing actual boots, and Blake can't help but wonder where the hell he got them from. He has to admit, Adam's kind of pulling off the look.

He looks back up. "Are you supposed to be me?"

Adam returns the hat to his head and winks. "You got me, cowboy."

"I don't know what's worse, the fact that you're wearing that ridiculous outfit or that you actually think you look something like me."

Adam shrugs. "You should be flattered." Then Adam leans in closer to Blake and reaches up to pull his sunglasses away from his eyes before letting them fall back. 

"A cop? Seriously Blake? What are you, twelve?"

Blake just shakes his head at his friend. As Adam walks away he notices something shiny sticking out of one of his back pockets.

"A toy gun," Blake calls to his back, "who's the twelve year old now?"

He isn't sure if Adam heard him over the noise but without turning around Adam pulls it from his pocket and uses it to disguise the middle finger he holds up before disappearing into the crowd.

The night drags on. Blake finally spots Gwen, though he hasn't quite figured out her goth-looking costume yet. He picks a few others out of the bunch, mostly The Voice crew and a few of their mutual friends, but by eleven thirty his head is hurting so much from trying to see through masks that he gives up. The few glasses of the orange stuff he's had probably don't help much either.

When the DJ switches from pop music to a slower set, people retreat to the edges of Pharrell's huge living room, opening up the center as a dance floor. A few couples slowly make their way out of the sea of costumes and into the spotlight, settling into the gentle rhythm. Blake catches a glimpse of a cowboy hat pass him by and he catches Adam by the arm. 

"Come outside?" Blake asks.

Adam cocks one eyebrow. "Okay..."

Blake winds his way through the masses until he reaches the door to the back deck. He opens it and is immediately hit by a wall of cold air. He pulls Adam out before closing the door behind them.

Adam walks over to lean on the railing overlooking the night landscape. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Blake goes to stand beside him. The quietness is a nice contrast to the bustling house behind them. He watches Adam's foggy breath in the chilly night air. He can see his shiny eyes from underneath the rim of the hat, staring straight out across the valley. The way he's standing causes one hip to jut out more than the other, the one with the gun, and it hangs out of the pocket, glinting under the moonlight.

Adam takes one deep breath in before pushing himself off the railing. "You didn't just want me out here for the view—"

"Shut up."

Blake leans into Adam, wraps one arm around his waist and the other around his neck. He tilts his head just enough to miss the hat as he presses his cold lips against Adam's warm ones. He feels Adam raise up on tiptoe, pushing their lips closer.

Blake pulls away and lets out a slow breath. "I've been wanting to do that all night. How you look in that outfit...it's been gettin' to me." But in his mind he knows that he's wanted to kiss Adam for longer than just tonight; he's wanted to for years.

"I thought you hated it."

But Adam doesn't leave Blake any time to respond. He pulls Blake down and smashes their lips back together, taking long, smooth pulls on Blake's mouth. Blake feels Adam's tongue at the edge of his mouth not long after. He tastes something sweet, something slightly bitter. He wants to rip off the bandana, the vest, undo every button on the goddamn shirt, but he settles for this. All of it is warm and ever so tantalizing.

Somewhere along the way Adam had placed his hands on Blake's neck, and now they slide slowly down over his shoulders, then his arms. Blake lets the tips of Adam's fingers linger in his hands. Adam looks at him and smiles before pulling them away completely. He goes back to stand by the railing. Blake follows.

After a minute Blake says, "You still look like an idiot."

Adam cocks his head. "So when you say that, you're actually saying you look like an idiot, because I'm supposed to be you."

Blake shakes his head. "You're the stupidest person I've ever met."

"Fuck you," Adam shoots back.

"Watch it now, that swearing will cost you big time."

Adam takes his hat off and tosses it aside, then leans into Blake and places his hands in his back pockets. "I'm afraid you're gonna have to arrest me officer," he says in his best fake country accent.

Blake takes that as an invitation for another kiss.