Work Header

i'll be a teenage idol (just give me a break)

Work Text:

Elton’s arms were numb as he trotted off of the plane after the tortuous twelve hour flight. He was followed close behind by his best friend and songwriter Bernie Taupin, the two of them groaning in unison as the sun hit their eyes for the first time in what felt like a year. “Bernie, was this damn trip really worth it if I’ll be jet lagged for the next decade?” Elton groaned, softly rubbing his eyes in an attempt to convince himself to stay awake. Bernie merely rolled his eyes and smiled a toothy-grin, patting his back as they walked together to claim their luggage.

Their relationship has been durable since they were in their young teens, meeting by chance through their mutual friend Raymond Williams. Elton had been infatuated with Bernie from the moment they met, their ideas always combining to create beautiful music. Although his romantic feelings for his partner had been shot down, he could not imagine where he would be now without him.

Being in Los Angeles of all places was incomparable to his home in Pinner; the weather was always beautiful, the people always peaceful, and the culture more diverse than any portion of Britain. And despite never having been, Elton felt like it could easily be his second home. The two teens had been invited to the West Coast by winning a local song writing competition which had been sponsored by a well-attended performing arts school in California.

Knowing Bernie and his extensive love for America and its culture, he was desperate to go, practically begging the anxious pianist to agree to the trip. Reluctantly, Elton had agreed, regretting it after a sharp pain stabbed his back during the treacherous flight. If Bernie was happy, then dammit, he’d have to suffer.

The school had requested them to come perform at their annual charity talent show, asking specifically for a new song from the duo. The opportunity seemed almost cartoonish - two young men with no formality in music being flown across the world to perform for a brand new crowd. As they were dropped off at the school by the airport cab, Elton reached uncomfortably for Bernie’s hand, his nerves suddenly heightened and his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Bernie responded by giving his hand a tight squeeze as he guided Elton to walk through the entrance.

Inside, the walls of the school were decorated with murals by local artists and students, drawings of ballerinas, pianists, actors and directors seemed to look at the duo judgmentally as they explored the halls. As it was summer, the school was barren of students and noise, giving it a slightly mystical feel. After walking through long, empty corridors, they halted in the main lobby as the sudden sounds of theatrical music boomed from the auditorium doors. Bernie grinned and wandered towards the entrance, signalling to encourage Elton to follow. Jesus Bernie you can’t just walk into someone’s rehearsal.

The room was extremely dark, the only lights being on the stage and a small lamp for the pianist to read the extensive sheet music. Currently, there were four students on the stage performing an unrecognizable upbeat song - perhaps an original piece written by a student. Bernie, however could not contain his excitement, as the actors on stage paused abruptly at the sudden shout of: “Hello Los Angeles!” coming from the audience. Elton’s heart sank as the music stopped and the actors glared into the crowd to see who’d caused the interruption. The lights were on in an instant and a boy stood from one of the back auditorium seats with a clipboard clutched tightly in his hands, knuckles white.

“Alright, pause lads. Who the hell was that?” The boy spoke in a thick Scottish accent, looking around, intense eyebrows knitted together in clear frustration. He was obviously tired if the bags under his eyes were a clear enough indication. Elton stood in the back of the auditorium in shock, hoping the angered boy would not notice him. Bernie was resilient however, approaching him immediately and holding out his hand. “It’s Bernie Taupin,” He said smiling wide before pointing back to his hidden partner, “and this is my second-half, Elton John! He’ll be performing here next week.” Bernie nodded his head in appreciation as the boy lowered his clipboard and responded with a firm handshake.

As Elton was outed from hiding, he walked to Bernie’s side, a nervous smile plastered on his lips. He reached out his hand as well but it went unnoticed as the strangers eyes burned into Bernie. “John Reid.” John spoke coldly and firmly, not rambling his thoughts or giving a proper introduction. “So, Mr. Taupin, I’m glad you were able to join us for the show next week; however, there are dozens of acts that must rehearse besides yourselves. I’d recommend either sitting here quietly to watch or,” John paused, glancing towards the auditorium doors that now hung open awkwardly. “You can go explore the city and be back here on your assigned time, and not on mine.”

Bernie’s mouth was agape for a moment before he gritted his teeth and formed an uncomfortable smile, turning towards Elton and gesturing towards the door. “Shall we then, Elton?” Elton nodded quickly, desperate to escape the tense atmosphere and the glares from both Reid and the actors waiting patiently on stage to continue.

Elton had been requested by the stage assistant Doug to wear flashy getup for his performance, but as he snapped on the white overalls, he couldn’t help but feeling slightly embarrassed. Bernie eyed his costume for a moment, cocking an eyebrow at the odd glasses Elton wore. “Mate, you look like a Barbie’s greatest enemy.” Although his jokes were casual and mere friendly jabs, Elton’s face rushed with heat, his slight embarrassment growing steadily.

Backstage of the charity show was what could only be described as more chaotic than hell, dozens of students and staff bustling about to make sure each set ran smoothly. He had been assigned a backing band for the night, which he had assumed were a separate act on their own. He suddenly felt his heart twist as he heard the act before him being called to the stage, realizing that his time was soon to come. He jumped, feeling his partner pat his shoulder in a reassuring moment. “I know you’ve gotta be nervous, Elton, for fuck’s sake mate, you’ve only performed at pubs before this!” Bernie’s words did nothing but cause his nerves to act up, making Elton’s eyes widen with fear as he heard the final bangs of drums onstage. “Elton, you’re gonna rock the shit out of this crowd, I promise. Just don’t break the fuckin’ keys banging too hard, aye?” They shared a laugh before being cut off by thunderous applause from outside.

Doug’s voice cut through the claps through the intercoms: “And with great pleasure, I’d like to now introduce our overseas winner! All the way from London, England, please welcome Elton John!”

The audience applauded slightly, Bernie nodding him off with a final wish of luck before the singer headed on stage. The rhinestones on his overalls reflected the intense stage lights onto his face and glasses, blinding him for a brief moment before he could get a clear look at his audience. The auditorium somehow looked thirty times larger than what he’d seen a week prior during rehearsals, thousands of people both sitting and standing crowded together into a mesh of eyes. The audience was a diverse lot, students, parents, summer tourists, heterosexual couples tonguing, and a few elders watching through their partial vision.

Elton gulped, steadying himself as he B-lined towards the shiny white piano close to center stage. He sat at the stool, cracking his knuckles quietly and breathing heavily into the microphone. His eyes glanced over the wave of people, seeing Bernie standing near the front of the stage to watch. Suddenly, his mouth opened, and a shaky noise escaped him:


The pause was awkward, but as he breathed through his nose, a swell of energy and excitement coursed through his fingers as they played the first chord.

…Remember when rock was young…

Elton stood on the wood patio awkwardly, the adrenaline from the performance making his body ache with energy. The last hour felt like a blur: he remembered the standing ovation he’d gotten at the end of his performance, and the wildly proud look in Bernie’s eyes as he cheered for him, now with a girl materialized at his side. He remembered being shuttled to a party with a group of strangers and Bernie in a convertible that reeked of whiskey, the tall girl clinging to his arm on the way. The party was small and peaceful, rather quiet for a teen gathering in L.A., joints and bongs being passed on couches and a steady bonfire outside giving light to dancing, grinding bodies.

Bernie had left him alone outside on the patio to spend time with his girl, leaving him longing and vulnerable as soft rock music played from inside. Throughout the night, multiple students came up to him asking for autographs or giving praise to his performance, all to Elton’s surprise and slight dismay. He sought attention but at the same time wanted nothing more than to sulk in his loneliness. Now with a newly rolled joint between his fingers, Elton relaxed, sitting on the porch step and opening his legs slightly.

He felt like a deer caught in the headlights when someone approached from his side, sitting down next to him and opening his legs in a similar manner so that their knees grazed gently. “Elton John, you damn rockstar.” Elton immediately recognized the accent to belong to the stern assistant he’d first seen the week prior, John Reid. He looked up from his shoes, his green eyes awkwardly meeting the striking blue ones of the Scotsman. “When you showed up last week, I’d assumed you were some clumsy poet boy who’d won the spot.” John chuckled darkly and popped open a dark bottle of alcohol and spilled some into two cups before offering one to the ginger. “Oh no, I don’t drink,” Elton was cut off by a sly smile and a raised eyebrow on John’s end, a tempting challenge which Elton accepted, reaching out for the cup.

“I very much enjoyed your performance, Elton. It’s not very common we get someone like you who knows how to stir up an audience.” Elton nodded at the praise, attempting to avoid eye contact as he sipped slowly on the bitter, cheap whiskey. John placed a hand on Elton’s knee, looking directly at him, his face wrinkled in a joyful expression. God, he’s probably the youngest man to get smile lines, Elton thought. Elton turned his head, immediately locking his sight on John’s soft lips, parted slightly with the implication of a grin. “Oh, well I’m glad you enjoyed it. We tried making a song that was much more upbeat than our normal tunes!” Elton gushed, laughing quietly at the memory of the bickering he and Bernie had over the genre they should cover.

“Yes, give my appreciation to your mate Bernie for such interesting lyrical work...” John’s intimidating demeanor suddenly changed and his body became relaxed and casual. “But, it was you who really stole the show.” Blood rushed to Elton’s pale cheeks instantly as his mouth opened, at a loss for words at the flirting he’d found himself caught up in. He realized in this moment that he’d never been in a situation like this, one where a man had feelings towards him that did not stem from a deep friendship. Elton was panicking as he continued to stare, agape and examining John’s masculine face and soft, delicately brushed hair.

“...promise that you could really be someone with all that talent of yours, Elton. This is merely the start of your wild ride.”

Elton would admit that John was hard to resist, his charming personality and stylish demeanor hypnotic to him. They’d ended up in Elton’s hotel room that the school board had generously paid for in the early morning, leaving the party before anyone’s parents happened to return to find intoxicated teenagers pissing in their fire pit. Elton stood aside awkwardly as he watched John peel the dress shirt from his torso, revealing a flat stomach and muscles that were beginning to bloom, tufts of chest hair scattering his flushed skin. The blood that was once pounding through his cheeks was now rushing elsewhere as John approached him, wrapping his arms around his jean-cladded hips before pulling him into a soft kiss, their lips meshing together in a greedy fashion. The soft touches drove Elton crazy as he rested his hands on John’s chest, keeping hold as his mouth was twisted and manipulated by the bloke’s pillow lips.

Elton shuddered as John sat him on the bed delicately, removing his glasses from the bridge of his nose and setting them on the bedside table. John then continued from there, straddling Elton’s lap and tugging up the fabric of his shirt to rip it from his body. Elton assisted but allowed John to pull the shirt off fully, leaving them both partially nude and panting, drool escaping from the corners of their mouths before they resumed the attack on each other’s lips with tongues and teeth. In what seemed like a nanosecond, they were tugging violently at their trousers to rid them from their sweating bodies, John reaching over to unbuckle Elton’s belt as they kept up constant, partially lidded eye contact. John successfully undid the other’s skinny jeans, shedding them from his waist alongside his briefs before removing his own as well, the two men both painfully hard and bare. The Scotsman’s eyes were wild and filled with lust as he stared up at Elton, head now between his legs.

Elton’s body quivered as he felt the hot breath from a sigh tease his member, his hand covering his mouth as he gasped softly. “No, Elton, don’t do that. I wanna know how much you like it…” John smirked before running his tongue along the tip of his lover’s cock, a small buildup of precum wetting his lips. Elton stared in disbelief as John pulled him effortlessly into his mouth, bobbing his head skillfully and sinfully along his achingly hard shaft, making sure to run his tongue across every vein and curve of the muscle. “John, please it’s so good...I-I think I need you, please.” Elton blabbered out, thrusting his hips to push further into John’s mouth with a small throaty choke from the man below.

John raised an eyebrow at the desperate plea, pulling away from Elton’s cock with a disgustingly wet pop, saliva coating his plump lips. John sat up instantly and straddled Elton, pushing his shoulders down as an indication to lay back before kissing him passionately and yet violently once again, needing to satisfy a craving that had been restrained within John for quite some time. A raise of his hips told Elton exactly where his cock was at the moment; right against the firm asscheeks of his partner. The realization caused him to stifle a pained moan, feeling the desire to plunge into the man despite his lack of any prior experience.

Luckily, John got the hint as he rolled up briefly, opening his jacket pocket which had been carelessly tossed on the floor and fishing out a small, travel-sized bottle of lubricant. “For emergencies like you, Elton.” John teased, squirting some of the thick gel onto his palm before rigorously slicking Elton’s cock, handing the bottle to him with his free hand. Elton was unable to move for a moment, focusing solely on how good it felt and how good it looked for the small Scottish boy to be stroking him so passionately before Elton popped the bottle open and poured a liberal amount onto three of his albeit short fingers. Fingers slicked, he desperately reached back, finding the other’s opening tense and nervous. “John, I don’t really… I’ve never done this. You gotta tell me if it hurts at all, darling.” Elton said unsure, gently massaging his finger against the tight rim before he felt John relax above him, making him able to edge his first digit in completely.

With a few flexes of his finger, he repeated the process with two more before he felt his partner was completely readied. John smiled down at him and rolled off, laying now on his back next to Elton. Elton scrambled up, sitting on his knees in between his lover’s thighs, edging them open even more with his hands. For a moment, they stared at each other, eyes discussing how they felt and how desperate they were for Elton to make his move. “John, I’m going in, so please do tell if it hurts too much.” He reassured, grabbing his lubed member and gently guiding it against the stretched entrance before him. With a soft push, his tip was inside, causing John to let out a breathy moan as he reached forward to grip Elton’s wrists that pinned his legs on the other’s shoulders. The Scotsman nodded aggressively, urging Elton to push further, which he did with earnest. Halfway down, Elton paused, learning forward to attach his mouth to John’s tense neck and sucking a large bruise into the skin with in turn caused John to mewl softly. Still suckling on his neck, Elton continued to push slowly until he reached the hilt, allowing John to get used to the sensation before he began to move.

“Elton, fuck’s sake please move, please!” John whimpered, digging his nails into Elton’s wrists as he bucked his hips upwards in an attempt to simulate thrusting. Elton chuckled and moved painfully slowly, gently sheathing and unsheathing his cock with no real rhythm. After a few more throaty pleas from John, Elton began to move faster, making him groan loudly as the tightness gripped around him. He knew he wouldn’t last long - the sensations were all so new and exciting he felt as if he could release with any thrust. Instead of concerning himself over his upcoming climax, Elton focused on bucking his hips quickly, ramming against the sensitive walls of the man below him. John, letting out a final moan, came desperately along his own chest, leaving streaks of cum across his entire torso. After John’s climax, Elton focused on allowing himself to follow suit, fucking harder until he felt pressure building quickly, for which he pulled out. He was luckily just in time, because as soon as he unsheathed his cock, he came across John’s body, joining the two men’s cum together.

“‘M sorry, John, I didn’t mean to…” Elton started, reaching to the bedside table for a tissue to clean his chest. “No, Elton. That was great. Everything you did was perfect, love.” John praised, taking the tissue and cleaning off the fluids before tossing it to the floor to throw in the waste bin when they woke. Elton crashed down beside him, allowing John to move atop him and hold him close, brushing his hand against Elton’s jawline. Elton began drifting asleep, feeling proud and excited for this newfound love that rested on him so lovingly.

“You’re perfect, Elton.”

“Elton, you’re doing it wrong!”

John was one to complain about lots of things, and his stage life was exceptionally high on that list. It's been three months since the charity show, and John was not only his boyfriend now but his manager as well. Elton had decided to stay with Bernie in California for the time being in an attempt to further his music career in a place so bustling with talent. The choice seemed like the best option, since England’s music business was extremely hit and miss, and his style was looked down upon as low class ‘pub rock’.

With John as his manager things seemed to be constantly busy. Elton found himself bombarded with weekly performances in festivals, special events in local parks, and occasionally being the opening act for a more well known performer’s concert. While he found it all very exciting and decently paying, he couldn’t help being exhausted at the end of every day. His only solace was laying down with John at the end of the day, but this was sometimes hindered by arguments or his partner’s pickiness.

He was his manager for music, but he also acted as the micromanager of his life. John was the one who had the final say in where they ate, what they spent money on, and what venues they performed at. It was slightly relieving not to make difficult decisions, but Elton wished he could branch out more; perform at more risky venues that would draw out press. Though he felt restrained by John in the business world, their private lives were filled with nothing but pure bliss and genuine affection.

“...Elton? Are you listening, darling?” John spoke louder to draw Elton from his dissociation. “You haven’t even heated the oven Elton…and you’ve put the whole roast in.” His criticism was masked with a gentle chuckle, a smile on his lips as he pulled Elton into a hug from behind. “How the hell is it supposed to cook if you don’t bother to put the heat on?” Nuzzling into Elton’s shoulder, John closed his eyes and sighed, feeling Elton relax against him.

“Shit John, I’m sorry.” Although he wasn’t embarrassed, he was disappointed in himself to make such a ridiculous mistake. At this point, his exhaustion was almost unbearable for his physical and mental health. He moved his head down to kiss John gently on the forehead before he walked to the oven, properly heating it and retreating back to cling onto the Scotsman. “You think we could lay around while it’s cooking, love?” Elton suggested, yawning at the mere idea of rest. John looked up from Elton’s chest and met his eyes in affirmation, parting from his grasp and leading them onto the sofa in the cramped living room.

Elton placed himself down on the leather loveseat and groaned, immediately followed by John at his side. There was nothing more graceful and warming than the feeling of his boyfriend curling up beside him, resting his head against his chest while he released what seemed to be a decade's worth of breath from his lungs. He ran his fingers through John’s hair gently, making sure his ring did not catch onto one of his locks. Elton was pleasantly surprised every time he felt John’s hair, as he always expected a gelled mess but was always met with soft waves instead, usually finding strands of curls if he dug deep enough.

To put it simply, he was in love. John Reid was everything Elton could’ve possibly wanted and so much more beyond that. John had the personality of a worked up rescue dog; always loving and grateful yet ready to defend on a moments notice. John had gotten them both in trouble with his quick jumps to fight back on multiple occasions, even landing himself in police custody for a week on one occasion. Although he’s never encouraged such behavior, Elton couldn’t help but to admire his boyfriend’s readiness to come to his aid and protect his dignity, especially citing his short and thinner stature. Elton knew for sure that John loved him the same, opening up only to him about the most personal things and finding safety in his arms at night. He was lucky, and he often thanked whatever deity had gifted him such a wonderful man to love him.

Snapping out of his dazed fondling of his lover’s hair, he glanced down to John resting against his chest and caught his eye, spotting his wicked grin immediately. Elton would not classify John as someone who’d show public affection, but in the safety of their apartment, things couldn’t be any more different. In less than a moment, his lying torso was now being straddled and John’s face was merely an inch from his. “Christ, Elton… If you keep dazing off on me like that I’m gonna start feeling bad.” He proposed, running a finger along Elton’s jaw and up to his lips, hushing an upcoming apology before it escaped. John replaced his finger with his own lips, pressing a gentle butterfly kiss to Elton’s mouth before barely pulling away.

“I know how hard we’ve been working these past months, you especially, but you’ve been doing so amazing, Elton.” John paused, looking across Elton’s face for any hint of embarrassment. “I’ve gotten so many positive comments from people who see you, and they really think you’re a star, as do I. I’m so proud of you, darling.” John was about to continue his praise, but was dragged forward against Elton’s lips once more, finding himself being kissed passionately by the empowered rockstar.

He kissed back eagerly, feeling Elton’s hand gripping his scalp, urging and begging him to continue. Their heated makeout continued for what felt like an hour, and when John finally pulled away to breathe he was left with a small red rash on his upper lip from the slight stubble forming on Elton’s face. “Elton if we keep this up I can’t promise I’ll let you take the roast out in time…” John teased, reaching a hand out to gently massage Elton’s shoulder.

“Let it burn then, just come here please.”