hand0lotion
War Child
- Joined
- Nov 8, 2010
- Messages
- 777
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rR3gT92mfYU&feature
Fic: Glastonbury
Author: hand0lotion
Pairing: Adam/Edge
Rating: safe
Summary: The subtext of the post-Glastonbury BBC interview. Reading between the lines, with slash goggles on.
Disclaimer: Fictional, not making a penny off of this. Edge is happily married, and Adam is...just happy.
"If we play a great show tomorrow, we'll have victory sex, but if we fuck it up, we'll have pity sex instead", Edge mumbles as he stretches out along Adam in bed, the night before Glastonbury. Adam grinned in the dark and bemusedly wondered if Edge's definition of "fuck it up" meant they would probably be having pity sex, but he didn't mind. Sex was good, he thought, and sex with The Edge was making love.
After their steroids-pumped set, still riding high from the energy and overall triumph, they are sheparded into an interview stage to take care of media obligations. The Edge promptly chooses to sidle up next to Adam and lean in against him, cameras be damned. Back home in UK, TV isn't really offended by same-sex PDA, The Edge mused. Or hopefully Bono will draw the attention away from Adam and I with his caffeine-powered hyperactive gesticulating. The rain left him slightly chilled and he was still wired up from from the festival that they had been building up to for weeks, and Adam was a welcoming emitter of warmth and calm, more potent than a heat radiator combined with a yoga guru. Not that Edge ever needed a reason to get cosy with Adam.
Beneath the peaceful aura that Edge feels and the camera picks up, Adam isn't really that calm. He twiddles his fingers in a valiant effort to restrain himself. Oh, all the things he could be doing with and to Edge right now. He wishes he could at least wrap his arm around Edge's shoulder. Adam is turned on by the fascinating mixture of vulnerability and hotness that Edge is exuding. Edge is shivering slightly against Adam, and yet he looks so drop-dead desireable in his leather jacket, and two very primal instincts are simultaneously turned on in Adam: protectiveness of his lover, and sexual appetite. When Bono launches into a dramatic soliloquy, Adam thinks it's safe to squeeze Edge's bicep. There was no way he could get away with squeezing the other bulging appendage on national telly, Adam smirks to himself. The bicep squeeze conveys to Edge: I want you, and I want to take care of you tonight. Of course Edge gets it, he smiles his knowing, mysterious smile that everyone can see but only Adam can decipher.
For the rest of the short interview, they are relegated to playing their roles by listening attentively to the banter between Bono and the interviewers, and laughing at the appropriate time. It doesn't occur to either to wonder if they'll get a chance to speak at all during this interview, because it is close to the last thing they are thinking about right now.
A/N: yes, all these slashy actions really happened in the video. Now watch closely, and keep your eyes on the quiet couple in the middle (not the windbag in the shades ;D)
Fic: Glastonbury
Author: hand0lotion
Pairing: Adam/Edge
Rating: safe
Summary: The subtext of the post-Glastonbury BBC interview. Reading between the lines, with slash goggles on.
Disclaimer: Fictional, not making a penny off of this. Edge is happily married, and Adam is...just happy.
"If we play a great show tomorrow, we'll have victory sex, but if we fuck it up, we'll have pity sex instead", Edge mumbles as he stretches out along Adam in bed, the night before Glastonbury. Adam grinned in the dark and bemusedly wondered if Edge's definition of "fuck it up" meant they would probably be having pity sex, but he didn't mind. Sex was good, he thought, and sex with The Edge was making love.
After their steroids-pumped set, still riding high from the energy and overall triumph, they are sheparded into an interview stage to take care of media obligations. The Edge promptly chooses to sidle up next to Adam and lean in against him, cameras be damned. Back home in UK, TV isn't really offended by same-sex PDA, The Edge mused. Or hopefully Bono will draw the attention away from Adam and I with his caffeine-powered hyperactive gesticulating. The rain left him slightly chilled and he was still wired up from from the festival that they had been building up to for weeks, and Adam was a welcoming emitter of warmth and calm, more potent than a heat radiator combined with a yoga guru. Not that Edge ever needed a reason to get cosy with Adam.
Beneath the peaceful aura that Edge feels and the camera picks up, Adam isn't really that calm. He twiddles his fingers in a valiant effort to restrain himself. Oh, all the things he could be doing with and to Edge right now. He wishes he could at least wrap his arm around Edge's shoulder. Adam is turned on by the fascinating mixture of vulnerability and hotness that Edge is exuding. Edge is shivering slightly against Adam, and yet he looks so drop-dead desireable in his leather jacket, and two very primal instincts are simultaneously turned on in Adam: protectiveness of his lover, and sexual appetite. When Bono launches into a dramatic soliloquy, Adam thinks it's safe to squeeze Edge's bicep. There was no way he could get away with squeezing the other bulging appendage on national telly, Adam smirks to himself. The bicep squeeze conveys to Edge: I want you, and I want to take care of you tonight. Of course Edge gets it, he smiles his knowing, mysterious smile that everyone can see but only Adam can decipher.
For the rest of the short interview, they are relegated to playing their roles by listening attentively to the banter between Bono and the interviewers, and laughing at the appropriate time. It doesn't occur to either to wonder if they'll get a chance to speak at all during this interview, because it is close to the last thing they are thinking about right now.
A/N: yes, all these slashy actions really happened in the video. Now watch closely, and keep your eyes on the quiet couple in the middle (not the windbag in the shades ;D)
I prefer listening to my windbag, though 
