Kradamadness: Round Three
And the third round of 
kradamadness is now over. The first time I made some art, the second time I made some...thing, an hybrid between fic, mix and art, so this time I decided to be traditional and try to write a short piece. Little I knew that if the prompt is by
akavertigo, then the result is going to be kind of excentric.
So here it is, my cracky little baby, please be gentle with it, it's shy.
Title: Too Mer to Woo Peaceably.
Author:
aneas
Word-Count: 8 500.
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Adam/Kris.
Disclaimer: This portrayal is entirely fictional. Not for profit, just for our entertainment.
Warnings: Another Mer!fic. I’m starting to worry. Also? Incredible levels of crack.
Betas: My delicious
cookie57 and
cleverboots. I’m the luckiest girl ever for having them in my life.
Notes: So, there was a time when
akavertigo was in the mood for some Mer!Adam trying to recover his Long Lost Mate, and
moirariordan thought the world needed some Mermaid-Courtship Rituals, so they prompted me, not realizing that I’m so easy it’s a shame, really…and a few weeks later, this fic happened.
Summary: `Adam bites his lip, sheepishly. “Under normal circumstances, we’d have five cycles of courtship to get used to each other, but these are not normal circumstances. We’re actually on a very strict timeline, Kristopher. Excuse me for being a little anxious this courtship seems to be going nowhere,” he says, defensively.’
“Oh, please, not again.” Kris lets his bag fall to the floor with a loud thump. “This is starting to get ridiculous.”
Adam bites his lip, sheepishly. “Under normal circumstances, we’d have five cycles of courtship to get used to each other, but these are not normal circumstances. We’re actually on a very strict timeline, Kristopher. Excuse me for being a little anxious this courtship seems to be going nowhere,” he says, defensively.
“For the last time, man, I’m not your long lost fishy fiancée, or whatever,” his mate says, and then has the gall to wince at Adam’s offended shriek.
“Not fishy: Mer! How many times do I have to tell you, we’re Mer?”
“And how many times do I have to tell you this is not romantic, this is called “stalking”?” Kris sighs and rubs his forehead, and Adam thinks absently that is a shame his hair is not a little bit longer. It would look great at the wedding floating around Kris’ head like a halo. “And the naked thing doesn’t help either, buddy.”
“But I have legs!” Adam protests, raising up from the armchair and turning around so Kris can admire them. “And they’re amazing! So long and smooth and they end in fingers and everything! Ten fingers, like the ones on my hands. Isn’t it neat?” he says, looking down and moving all twenty fingers. This is never going to get old. He can move them! Yay! “I think it’s really efficient, because if they’re ten too, you can tell if you’ve lost one with just a glance.” He smiles. He loves it when things make sense. A sudden idea strikes him. “Do they grow back like a starfish arm if you lose one? Because that would be super cool!”
Kris looks at him in silence, a weird expression on his face. “First of all, they’re not called fingers, they’re toes and they don’t grow back; and secondly, you don’t have to be naked all the time to show me you have legs. I happen to have noti- what the hell am I doing, talking with you like you’re sane?” he says, and takes the phone out of his pocket.
He’s going to call for security Adam knows by now, and even if he’s getting used to it, the last time the guys weren’t exactly nice. “Please, don’t!” he begs. “I only want to talk to you and make you understand we are meant to be together! It’s written in the tides!”
He comes closer and tries to stop Kris without actually touching him. He is so warm! Adam is not used to it, and to be honest, he’s not sure he likes it. He can feel the warmth coming off of Kris in waves. It always makes him shiver.
Kris blushes at their closeness and keeps his eyes locked in Adam’s face. “This is the fourth time in the last ten hours you’ve burgled a place I’m in. I don’t even care who slipped you a copy of my schedule, man,” he raises a hand to interrupt Adam. “Hey! I didn’t believe your Mating Compass Theory the other times and I’m not going to believe it now, so don’t bother explaining it again. I just want to chill at home and sleep for a month. And I can’t do it with a ten-foot tall naked redhead in my sitting room. ”
He looks tired, Adam notices. Granted, it’s not like Adam has tons of experience with Dry Ones, they all look kind of bland to him: they barely sparkle at all, their colors are totally muted and their hair is so…flat, but even for an inhabitant of The Mainland his mate looks dim. He has dark shadows under his eyes, and pale lips, and his hair, his hair looks so depressed! It’s painful to see, really. Somebody needs to take care of him.
“Give me a chance, okay? Just one little thing, and I’ll prove to you that I’m not a stalker, Kris.” He tries to project earnestness, and something in Kris eyes tells him he has won just a second before his mate opens his mouth.
“You have a minute, buddy, one minute. I advise you to use it wisely,” he says.
“Great!” Adam smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. “I’m going to need your cell.”
Kris narrows his eyes, and instinctively hides the cell behind his back, like Adam is going to take it and hit him on the head, or something.
“Please?” he begs, eye wide. “You can push the numbers, if you don’t want me touching it. I don’t care. My mother made me memorize the number in case I needed it.”
For a moment he thinks it’s not going to work. “All right, tell me the number,” Kris reluctantly says, and Adam inhales.
He recites the numbers, and by the time he reaches the last one Kris is clearly surprised, looking at the screen. “What the-” he tries to say.
Adam interrupts him. “On speaker, please.”
Kris opens his mouth, but he closes it again without saying a word. He pushes the green button, and Adam can hear the tone.
“Hey, Krissy-boy, how are you?” says a voice, and Adam smiles, delighted. So Cassidy knows Kris, that’s even better!
“Cass?” Kris says, and the guy at the other side of the line laughs.
“Yeah! Don’t sound so surprised, you’re the one that’s calling. What happened? Did you confuse the number?”
“I’m not really sure,” Kris says, and Adam decides that it’s time to take control of the situation.
He breathes deeply. “Greetings from The Depths, Brother Cassidy Haley. I’m Adam, son of Leila, and I belong to the Lambert Gam. May the peace of The Depths be with you.”
He’s proud of how well the formal greeting flies from his mouth. Kris is looking at him with a flabbergasted expression; half awe, half surprise.
There’s a pregnant silence from the other side of the line, and then…“Greetings from The Surface, Brother Adam Lambert. May the light of The Mainland be with you,” Cassidy answers, also exquisitely. Adam smiles, thinking that this shows how wrong the Council of the Four is when they say the young have no respect for traditions. If Paula were here, she would be so proud…
Then Cassidy says, laughing: “Oh, fuck me with a screwdriver, Kris, you’ve got yourself hitched!” And he ruins the introduction rite completely.
His mate looks closer to apoplexy with each second.
“So help me god, Cass, if this is a joke,” Kris shouts, “I swear I’ll kick your ass so much you won’t be sitting for a year.”
“I can see why you don’t believe it, Kris, but it’s true. There are mer-people, and they live among us.”
Adam watches his mate hit his head repeatedly against the wall. That has to hurt.
“And I thought winning American Idol was the weirdest thing in my life,” Kris mumbles.
“And why would you think that I’d send you a guy to tell you he’s your fiancé as a joke?” The voice coming from the cell in Adam’s hand sounds a little affronted.
“Maybe because just two days ago you were saying that I desperately need to get laid, and this guy is naked in the middle of my sitting room?”
“I wouldn’t send you a hooker!” Cass is really insulted by the insinuation, Adam can tell.
“I know, I know,” Kris says. “That’s more Brad’s style.”
“That was just one time, Kris, just one time. Are you never going to let it go?”
Adam watches how Kris starts to hit his head again. “I need new friends. I totally, totally, need new friends in my life.” He punctuates every word with a hit to the wall.
Adam agrees wholeheartedly. That Brad person is an insensate. Nobody’s going to be sending hookers to his mate. Those things are dangerous! He could be hurt! Adam found a hook once and it pinched his arm and it hurt a lot. No, no hookers near his mate. He doesn’t approve of them. They‘re barbaric.
When Kris finally switches off his phone, they look at each other across the room. The conversation has clearly exhausted his mate.
“You need to rest,” Adam says. He’s going to show his mate what a good partner he is, taking care of all Kris’ needs and providing for him. “Go take a bath, and I’ll prepare a bite for you, okay? Then we’ll talk.”
He smiles, trying to project an air of security and competence. He can so project competence! It’s all in the teeth, really.
Kris doesn’t seem reassured, but then a yawn assaults him, and wow! He really can stretch his jaw! Adam is blushing!, and he finally says, “You know what? After all that’s happened this afternoon, I don’t care if you’re a crazy stalker/murderer too. I’m so tired I’m going to pass out right now,” and Adam feels totally proud of himself when Kris turns around and goes to his room.
His good mood lasts until he’s in the kitchen and realizes that he doesn’t actually have the faintest idea how to use any of the weird implements Kristopher has in it. But they’re shiny, and Adam likes shiny things. It shouldn’t be complicated; he just has to use logic. He picks up a stick with two metallic tines and looks at it. He tilts his head. Then he looks around, because this obviously has to…oh. Oh. Of course! A little white box in the wall has two tiny holes in it. Two tines, two holes. It seems like the Dry Ones totally love symmetry. Adam could get used to that.
Before he can test his theory, there’s a loud noise from the bathroom and a muffled shout. Adam smiles to himself. So his mate has found the jellyfish in the bathtub, hasn’t he? He must be delighted. Those are very special jellyfish, Adam had to ask for a lot of favors to get them safely delivered, but it’s so worth it! It’s his first big present to Kris. The courtship ritual has begun!
Apparently, only water-born people like jellyfish in their bathtubs. The Dry Ones prefer bubbles, and not the oxygen ones, but bubbles made of soap! Which shows how little they know, in Adam’s opinion, but that’s something he keeps to himself. The worst part, though, is that they bathe in freshwater, which baffles Adam completely. No salt. Revolting.
He’s starting to think that maybe his “Finding My Long Lost Mate and Making Him Fall in Love with Me” plan is going to be harder than he thought. Everything is strange and confusing, and things up here don’t make sense at all.
At least the Dry Ones still use sponges, even if they’re weird and plastic-y and not alive at all.
Adam doesn’t care how cool his new legs are. He’s starting to miss The Depths a lot.
It’s a good thing Kris is more tired than angry, because with all the taking care of the minuscule jellyfish and cleaning up the mess of the bathroom and stuff, Adam failed to produce any kind of food for his mate.
Kris opens the big white box in the kitchen and takes out some weird algae. It’s so green! The leaves are kind of crunchy and totally dry, but Kris soon adds some yellow liquid that smells pungent and gorgeous, and some salt, Yay! and Adam should totally be paying more attention, because if that’s what Kris eats, then Adam should learn how to prepare it. But what he’s wearing is distracting him. Kris has thrown him some fabrics to try on. “For the love of God, put on some clothes, man!” he said, like he was angry, but he can’t fool Adam, he can totally see that the fabrics are Kris’ first courting present. So cute! His mate is shy; he still thinks he has to act like he doesn’t want the courtship at all.
Adam’s mom has raised him well and he tried the clothes on so Kris won’t feel awful, which, by the way, is exactly was Kris should have done with the jellyfish even if he didn’t like them. Please, they didn’t even sting so badly! He thinks. And to be honest, he has the worst present by far, because the jellyfishes were cool and funny, and these clothes are obnoxious. And ugly. He doesn’t like the feeling of being surrounded by dry, rough fabric. It’s really off-putting. The touch of the material against his skin is distracting, it makes him notice his body in a way that being naked doesn’t. It feels like he’s surrounded by, he doesn’t know, sensuality, or something. And the texture is all wrong, everything is coarse, nothing is slick or wet. Disconcerting.
He’s still pondering it, a finger poking the little tag that itches and is irritating his neck’s skin, so it takes him completely by surprise when Kris opens a can and a weirdly familiar smell reaches him.
“What is this?” he asks, suspicious.
And when Kris answers, “Crab meat,” Adam screams and faints.
Sandwiches are awesome. He likes bread. Bread is so, so cool…Adam doesn’t even mind that he has to drink, like, gallons of water to make the food go down. It tastes amazing! Tomatoes are great, fresh and juicy, and Kris lets him repeat twice. He seems really ashamed; he says he’s sorry he’s been so insensitive, and Adam forgives him easily because it’s not really Kris’ fault that Sebastian’s loss is still recent. Adam is benevolent like that.
He is a big fan of benevolence, especially if it gets him more sandwiches.
Kris is asleep. His head is on Adam’s shoulder, and he hasn’t moved for a while. They’re sitting watching a film, and they started at opposite ends of the sofa, but Kris is exhausted and he quickly fell sleep, so Adam had no problem getting closer to his mate, and now he is trying to get used to his warm presence. Adam likes the film a lot, it’s so instructive, and he’s starting to realize that the clothing thing doesn’t have to be so taxing, after all. Maybe only Kris’ clothes are boring. He likes what the guy at the screen is wearing on his legs. It’s black and shiny, like the back of a whale, and it showcases his legs beautifully. The girl seems to like the garment, too, because the couple is sharing bubbles. With their mouths! Like if they were mated! Adam is glad Kris is asleep, because he’s blushing. He doesn’t want to appear inexperienced to Kris. It’s bad enough that his mate has been lost for so long, cut out from his rightful place, from his legacy, growing up like a Dry One. If he knew Adam has never shared bubbles with anyone before, he would laugh and maybe he wouldn’t want to mate with him.
Adam shudders. He still can’t believe his mate is alive. He was resigned to live alone forever. When the news of a Long Lost Mer arrived with the shoal of tuna, Adam didn’t want to believe that his mate was the one they were all talking about. He didn’t believe the dolphins, either. Big pranksters, the dolphins, they’re not trustworthy. But then his mother forced him to leave The Depths and swim to The Surface. He heard The Calling with his own ears and couldn’t deny it any longer.
His mate was alive, and everybody was so happy! Adam wasn’t going to end up old and alone! He was really eager to leave The Depths for the first time since he was an egg. The Calling was so beautiful; The Council of the Four said that it was the most gorgeous Calling of the last eight years, Ha! Take that, Cook!, so he was really, really excited to go out and finally meet his mate.
But Kris didn’t recognize him when Adam appeared at his studio, and Adam was so surprised by this unexpected circumstance that he barely had time to explain anything to Kris before two big guys threw him out on the street. He still doesn’t know why Kris can’t feel they’re mates.
The second time he saw his mate, Kris was in a small black cabin, like a ship without sails, and he jumped back and hit his head when Adam got into it. Adam had a little more time to explain himself, but by the time he was saying “…and your parents forgot your egg ashore when they were coming back to The Depths, that’s where we’re from, by the way-” the same two guys opened the door and threw him out, again. Leaving him alone on the street. Again. And the last thing Adam heard before the little black ship went away was Kris’ voice saying: “I’m not from the depths, what the- I’m from Arkansas, dude!”
Maybe Arkansas is a magic place with amnesiac powers, or something. He has heard that in some places of The Mainland where there is no water, people see things that are not there, like water and vegetation and stuff. Maybe Arkansas is like that, too. Or maybe what the octopus said is true and The Soil makes you crazy.
Anyway, right now Adam has his mate burrowed by his side, and although his smell should be completely wrong, all sweet and warm, the fact is that Adam likes the way his mate smells. A lot.
Adam winces when he hears Kris puking his guts out. He doesn’t understand why Kris doesn’t believe him.
“I told you the Courtship has begun!” he shouts at the closed door. Kris doesn’t answer. “The second phase forces us to be closer at all times, Kris! You shouldn’t have tried to go to work this morning without me!”
“Shut up!” Kris shouts, and Adam thinks that it’s really unfortunate that his mate is not a morning person.
Adam caresses Kris’s hair, and he smiles when his mate burrows his face into the covers and nudges the hand petting him. He’s really queasy, and Adam shouldn’t feel so happy about his misery, but he can’t help it. The way Kris rests beside him, the implicit trust warms his heart. It means Kris is getting used to his presence and relies on him. It’s a very good sign for the Courtship and it makes him feel really caring, like he has to treasure Kris and keep him safe and happy.
Obviously, Kris’ nausea also mean that Kris will be the one carrying the eggs and Adam will be the one doing the actual fertilizing, (hence the protectiveness) but his inner voice tells him that it’s better if he keeps this little detail secret until Kris is more used to the idea of being Mer.
“How did you know that guy wanted to hurt me?” Kris asks, and bites the macaroon cautiously. His eyes widen at the taste and then he puts the whole thing in his mouth. He groans in pleasure.
Adam smirks. Black sesame and nori macaroons: he knew they’d be a success. Feeding his mate provides him with an atavistic pleasure he never imagined. He pops one into his own mouth and wants to smirk again at the minuscule pout Kris makes before stealing another one for himself. He has to send Cass the biggest fruit basket ever. He definitely has gone above and beyond with this. They’re only distant cousins, after all. The clothes were more than enough. That he added the food is really thoughtful, Adam has no words.
Kris prods him with his foot, forcing him to talk. Adam offers him a fish roll and Kris scrunches his nose but eats it anyway. They’re sitting in Kris’s garden, under a big, green umbrella. When Kris’ manager told him to spend the morning at home, Adam quickly convinced him to have a picnic. Kris needs some fresh air; Adam doesn’t like the pale color of his skin at all. It’s obvious he works too much.
“The guy, Adam. The guy with the homophobic t-shirt and the crazy eyes from yesterday,” Kris says, and Adam tightens his jaw. He doesn’t want to remember it.
“What about him?” he asks, and when Kris opens his mouth, he props a little seaweed cracker inside. Kris frowns, and Adam knows he can’t distract him by stuffing his mouth with food any longer.
“How did you know he was going to attack me?” Kris asks when he finishes chewing, and Adam remembers the way things slowed down, how he could see the guy jumping from nowhere, in slow motion, his eyes full of hate and his fisted hands, the way he ran towards Kris, and how much hate his grimace showed.
“He was running and shouting at you in a dark alley, Kris. What did you think he was going to do, ask for your autograph?” he asks, indignantly. He still feels scared. And guilty, because he knows the reason Kris was in that alley was because Adam’s presence had worried his handlers and forced them to choose another exit. Kris usually leaves the premises using the front door.
“A lot of people got angry when I came out,” Kris says reasonably. “The first openly gay American idol. Some controversy is expected.”
“You shouldn’t have been alone. Where were your security guys, anyway?” he asks, angry again.
Kris smirks. “They were distracted. They were looking for this naked guy that has the habit of popping up out of nowhere and telling weird stories about soul mates and mermaids.”
“You should consider firing them,” he pouts, and Kris laughs out loud. “No, really, they’re not so good.”
“I still can’t believe how fast you moved,” Kris says, shaking his head. Adam knows he was just lucky, that he mostly knocked the weirdo out because the guy wasn’t expecting a six-foot tall naked man to appear suddenly behind a garbage bin. But the truth is that he had been so consumed by rage, thinking: this creature, this stupid, petty creature wants to touch, to hurt my mate, how dare he, that he didn’t even remember what happened. He can’t remember how he ended pinning the guy against a wall, a hand around his throat, the other crushing the guy’s fist, the blood of his broken nose slowly dripping on Adam’s skin, so hot, so disgusting. All he remembers is how much he wanted to slam him against the wall, one time, and another. And another one, for good measure.
“If you try to touch him again I’m going to rip your fucking throat open,” he had whispered and the guy nodded.
He had released the guy then, watched him fall to his knees in absent interest, and he left without looking back at Kris, because he didn’t want to see the repugnance in his eyes, the disappointment. He needed water, anyway, to submerge himself and clean the revolting feeling of warm, sticky blood on his skin.
“Adam,” Kris says, and he snaps out of his reverie, and Kris is there, looking at him, worried eyes and concerned mouth, and Adam wants to lick his lower lip, wants to share bubbles with him so much he almost hurts. Kris opens his mouth, and Adam can’t listen to what he’s going to say, he can’t, he’s not prepared.
“More sushi?” he asks, and Kris closes his mouth. Is disappointment what Adam sees in his eyes? It’s gone as soon as it came, and Kris shrugs.
“I would like to know why it’s okay to eat fish but seafood is forbidden,” he says, and takes another macaroon.
“Seafood is not forbidden, silly. You can eat all the clams you want, for example. But crabs are intelligent creatures, Kris; they have feelings. Would you eat your pets? I mean, surely you’d never eat a cat, or a dog, or a cow, would you? Kris? Oh. Oh, my-tell me you don’t-oh, you’re all kind of sick, you people! What’s wrong with you?”
When Kris’ management finally accept that Kris can’t go anywhere without Adam, they come up with the stupidest idea ever, and that’s how Adam begins to pose as Kris’ new Personal Assistant-Security guy-Fashion Guru, though Kris doesn’t know about the last part, yet. So far, it’s going well, despite the fact that he doesn’t know where anything is, or how to use a computer, or where they are supposed to be at any given moment, but Kris smiles a lot, and the security guys are really nice once you get to know them, and Adam has new black trousers and a beanie that is like a soft shell for his head, because the lack of water makes his hair all flat and sad, too.
And then Kris has to go to a photo shoot, and Adam falls in love.
The make-up girl lets him keep a lot of the free samples and he’s as excited as an octopus with a white rock. She even does his face while Kris is with the photographer, and he’s amazed at the image looking back at him from the mirror. He hadn’t noticed how much he missed the colors of his tail until she put them back on his eyelids.
“Those are, definitely, your colors,” she says, and Adam can only nod. Green, three shades of blue, sparkling silver, and the downy black of The Depths in his eyelashes: the longing is going to kill him. The girl tilts her purple head. “We still have time, love. Do you want me to do something with your hair?”
“Oh, hell yes!” he says fervently, and she laughs.
Oh, The Surface is a wonderful, wonderful place. Adam is admiring his amazing new haircut, all spiky and shiny. It’s marvelous work because now his hair doesn’t sit flatly on his head, it rises and falls like it does when he’s underwater, and the black is so deep and vibrant he’s almost dizzy with happiness. Scarlett even makes the hairdresser put some blue and green in it, so now his hair even matches his eye shadow, and Allison is going to love it when she sees it. Adam hopes there’s waterproof make up or the effect won’t be half as striking.
When Kris walks in and sees him, he actually trips over his own feet.
“You-you look amazing,” he says, and Adam smiles. Could this day get better?
There’s a little girl arguing with her mother outside the studio, and when they get down to the car, she escapes her mother’s grip, throws a big grocery bag to the floor, and starts to run. Kris intercepts her, and she crashes against his legs.
“Whoa there,” he says, and holds her until she stops fidgeting. “Where do you think you’re going, little lady?”
She starts to answer, but then she notices Adam.
“Oh! You’re so shiny!” She says, and her mother blushes and tries to disentangle her from Kris’ legs. Kris snickers, but Adam pays him no mind. He crouches until he’s eye level with the girl.
“You’re shiny, too. Your hair is gorgeous,” he says, but she shakes his head.
“It’s orange,” she says, outraged, like the color affronts her personally.
Her mother sighs. “It’s not orange, it’s red,” she says with a tired tone that implies that they’ve had this conversation a lot of times. The kid rolls her eyes, and Adam tries not to smile. `I share your pain, little sister’ his inner voice says.
“I think ginger hair is beautiful,” Kris says, and when the girl snorts, he adds, “like coral.”
Both Adam and the girl look up at him. Kris shrugs. “What? Coral is awesome. I like the way the sun goes through water and brings out the color of the reef. I think that you’re going to love your hair in a few years. Every girl in your school is going to be insanely jealous.”
She seems to like that. A lot. Adam feels all fuzzy and warm inside. Kris likes red hair too! His mate is a strange, wonderful creature. Adam is really lucky.
They say their goodbyes, and she keeps turning back to wave at them. Adam feels absurdly happy and can’t help but smile all the way to the recording studio. “You’re going to be amazing with the tadpoles, “ he says.
Kris makes a face. “I don’t think so, man.”
Adam puts a comforting hand over Kris’ shoulder. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll help you all the time.”
Kris’ mouth twitches, and Adam can see he’s trying to suppress a smile. “See, that’s not really that reassuring, buddy.”
Kris’ voice is amazing. Adam really loves it. The first time he hears it live, Kris is in the studio and Adam is in the control booth, and it’s an incredible experience. Adam’s skin itches, his eyes are full of water and he’s so proud of his mate he feels his heart near to bursting. He has to restrain himself; he wants to swallow Kris’s voice with his mouth so badly he almost can’t take it.
“Well, hello,” says an oily guy, eying Adam up and down. “Who’s the arm candy?” he asks Kris, the insulting tone making Adam frown.
“He’s Adam,” Kris answers, his tone terse. He sounds off, and Adam instantly turns his head to look at him. Is this revolting…individual upsetting his mate?
“Oh, I see,” the man leers, and sits with them without asking for their permission. The cafeteria is almost full, but there are still some empty tables around. There’s no need to be so rude. The young blond girl that comes with the guy stands behind him. Kris rolls his eyes and quickly gets up to bring a chair closer to the table, gesturing her to sit down. She smiles at him, but she keeps her cell phone to her ear.
The guy is still looking at Adam with a lecherous look, and Adam is starting to get pissed off. The guy winks at him when he notices his irritation. Though he doesn’t’ take his eyes off Adam when he speaks, is clear he’s not addressing Adam at all. “Now I understand your insistence in getting a new PA. I would totally harass the Powers That Be for a pretty, pretty thing like him, too.”
Kris bites his lower lip and Adam squeezes his mate’s knee under the table.
The scum talks again. “And tell me, does the Boy Toy talk or does he just look pretty?”
Adam wants to say: `Oh, he talks all right, and he can also kick your sorry excuse of an ass without ruining his new and fantastic make up’ but Kris beats him to it.
“Did you want something, Danny, or are you being your usual charming self just for fun?” Kris tone is deceitfully tired, but Adam can feel his tension.
“I just wanted to be the first to tell you that Simon finally saw the light, and I’ll be the one singing Masquerade with Carrie Underwood.”
Adam doesn’t know what are they talking about, but it must be a big deal, because if he thought Kris was tense before, now he was near the breaking point. “What?” he says.
“Come on, Kris,” Danny chuckles. “It can’t come as a surprise. It makes no sense for you to sing a love song as a duet with a woman, not after you admitted being queerer than a three-dollar bill.”
“But I wrote that song,” Kris says through clenched teeth.
“No one is denying that. But the fact is the label bought it, it belongs to them. Cheer up; you’ll be properly credit as the songwriter on my album. Isn’t it wonderful? A song on a real singer’s CD! Bet you never thought you’d make it that far.”
Danny rises up, happy that his work here is done. Adam is surprised to see that poison spreads in air the same way calamari ink spreads in water. In the toxic wake of his words, Danny disappears. The girl sends an apologetic look at Adam before she follows him. She never stopped talking on her phone for even a moment.
When Adam looks at Kris, he’s pale. “Are you okay?” he asks, and Kris looks up.
“I’m so sick of it, you know?” he says, and Adam blinks, confused. Kris shakes his head. “I never tried to hide it, I thought that if being gay was a part of me, then people would just have to accept it or kick me off the show. I wasn’t trying to make a statement, or- I don’t know, be a poster gay for who knows what. But I made it to the top ten, and then to the top five. By the time I won it had grown even bigger, and now it has totally overshadowed the fact that I can sing. Like the most important thing about me is that I’m gay, not that I’m a singer, and it’s stupid and it shouldn’t bother me, but it does!” He rubs his eye with his hand, and laughs despairingly. “I’m not dealing with it very well, I’m afraid.”
“And that guy, he is…?” Adam asks, his fingers moving slowly in a caress over Kris’ hand.
“That’s Danny Gokey, my asshole runner up,” he answers. “He didn’t take it well when I won, and it doesn’t help that we share the same label.”
Kris looks so small and so sad; Adam has to do something, anything.
“Do you want me to dispose of him?” he asks. “Some sharks owe me a couple of favors.”
Kris laughs. “You’re crazy!” When he looks at Adam, the fondness is evident.
“I’m not even joking,” he says, and that makes Kris smile even more. He turns his hand up and laces his fingers with Adam’s.
“Thanks, man,” he says, and Adam feels his heart flutter in his chest like an eel.
By dinnertime, Adam thinks he already has a grip on the blackberry thing. It’s all for naught, Kris’ former PA is still his de facto assistant, and she still rules Kris’ life with an iron fist. But people expect to see Adam busy all the time, and Adam doesn’t want to see Kris blush again when people look Adam up and down and smirk at him with a knowing smile.
He doesn’t want Kris to feel ashamed of him.
Adam tries not to show it, but he’s starting to be really worried. He has a deadline. Kris has to fall in love with him by this time tomorrow, with the change of the moon, because the tide will recess then and it will take Adam with it. If Kris doesn’t love Adam back by then, then he’ll be turned into nacre. And okay, nacre is pretty cool, it shines and all, but, still, not Adam’s first choice.
He looks at Kris over the table, the light of the restaurant making his warm eyes shine while they roam over the menu. He’s also biting his lower lip, and that makes Adam squirm in his seat.
“Squid okay?” he asks, and Adam nods. He just flat refused to even read the menu, and Kris offered to order for both of them. It’s clear he doesn’t want a repeat of the cafeteria scene when Adam discovered the chicken salad. The tears are still fresh in their minds.
Their waitress smiles at Kris when he gives her the menu and he orders the Black Risotto with Lima Beans and Baby Squid.
“You’ll love it,” he says, and Adam nods. He doesn’t have the foggiest idea what risotto or lima beans are, but he approves of black food, just on principle. “So, how did you like your first day as my PA?”
“I really liked the photo shoot part,” he answers earnestly.
Kris chuckles. “Of course you did.”
“But what I liked best was hearing you sing,” Adam adds.
Kris blushes and lowers his eyes to the tablecloth. He’s adorable, Adam wants to wrap him in his arms and swim him down to The Depths.
“Tomorrow is my day off,” Kris says, after a while.
“Off what?” Adam asks, intrigued.
“Off work!” Kris laughs. “Do you want to go dancing tonight and meet my friends?”
Adam is not sure. On one hand: music, and people, and knowing more about Kris. On the other hand, Kris’ friends, the ones that like hooks and would make Adam feel out of place.
“Maybe we could go home and watch another movie,” he tentatively offers.
Kris’ smile is radiant. “Home,” he says, and he smiles even wider. “Yeah, I would like that.”
Cass sent Adam great clothes. They’re tight, and shiny, and some of them have spikes, even. He really loves the long jacket with the metallic net on the shoulders. It’s ridiculously cool.
He still doesn’t know why Kris laughs so hard when he sees that Adam wants to wear it to bed. Apparently, bedclothes are supposed to be comfortable, smooth things that you wear so it’s easy to toss and turn when you’re in bed.
Adam still can’t see the problem. Leather is totally comfortable. The Dry Ones should try to sleep on a sea urchin infested reef to know what uncomfortable actually means.
Also, the yoga pants, though black and undoubtedly fantastic, hide nothing at all, and Adam is sweating, gross, gross, gross, by the time Kris cuddles with him on the sofa, because his mate smells so good, and he’s so warm, and Kris’ skin is so smooth but not slippery at all, and Adam’s hard like that old anchor Neil found in the Caribbean sea.
Second phase has obviously begun, and now it’s going to be mating time, all the fucking time, and Adam is equally frightened and excited.
How could they have imprinted so fast? And why Kris can’t feel it?
Second night in a row they spend sleeping on the sofa, and Adam’s neck is going to kill him. He’s not in a good mood, because his skin prickles, craving Kris’ skin like crazy, letting him know that he’s running out of time.
Kris is preparing breakfast, more bread, and tomato, and juice; and the smell of the black beverage he’s so fond of, teases Adam’s nostrils. How Kris can drink it, Adam doesn’t know. It’s so strong and so hot! Disgusting.
He sighs and rubs his head. His bad mood can’t ruin Kris’ day off. He almost jumps when Kris puts a plate with toast in front of him.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and his eyes are concerned.
`No, I’m not,´ Adam wants to say. `We imprinted, and we need to mate right now, because if I don’t bend you over the table in the next five minutes, I’m going to be raving mad by the end of breakfast´. But he can’t scare Kris, he knows, so he just shrugs and mumbles: “Headache.”
“Oh, poor you,” Kris says, and kisses Adam’s forehead. Adam closes his eyes, trying to protect himself from the input of information that assaults him with Kris’ closeness. His touch, his smell, the warmness…Adam wants to cry.
It’s going to be a long day.
Maybe Kris doesn’t realize they have, in fact, imprinted on each other, but it doesn’t stop him for presenting the whole set of symptoms. He touches Adam at the slightest opportunity; his body is always turned towards Adam’s, no matter what they’re doing, and even if they start at opposite corners of the room, Kris always ends up in Adam’s space, under his arm, warm by his side, looking at him under his eyelashes, glimpses of his naked skin under his clothes tantalizing Adam. And he moves with a slow grace now, where he was jerky and kind of spastic before. It’s almost like he’s trying to turn Adam on on purpose, and he smells wonderful, musky, like fresh seaweed and ozone.
Adam really needs to swim, right now, to tire his body and forget everything in the rush of going further, of going faster. He would try running, but it’s not the same at all. And he has the inkling that the boots Cass sent him are not appropriate running footwear, no matter how splendid they are.
Kris is sitting under the green umbrella again, and he’s playing his guitar, trying to relax Adam. He has his head resting on Kris’ leg, and he’s not going to move ever. The song is amazing, full of despair and longing, and Adam wonders how Kris can’t feel he’s Mer. It’s painfully obvious.
“I like this song,” he says.
Kris smiles. “Thank you. I wrote it.”
“Sing it for me again?” He asks, and Kris smiles and starts once more. When he reaches the chorus, Adam joins in.
“And now you have to tell me,
‘cause you owe me the truth:
Was it even real, was it even you?”
Kris stops playing and just sings the verse, his eyes never leaving Adam’s, and he can’t help but show off, humming the harmony to Kris’ voice, because he doesn’t know the lyrics, only the chorus.
When they stop, Kris eyes are huge. “Oh, my God, Adam, you’re unreal!” he says, and then he leans down and brings his lips to Adam’s.
Adam freezes. They’re sharing bubbles! They. Are. Sharing. Bubbles. He blinks, and feels the sliding of Kris’s lips against his. Almost against his will, his lips open and Kris bites slightly on his lower lip. Adam whole body trembles. Kris has his own eyes closed, but there’s a smile curling up the corner of his mouth.
It ends too soon, and Kris is smiling down to him. “It’s amazing what your voice can do. I need to ask you a favor,” he says.
`Anything, everything,´ Adam thinks. ’Ask me for my lungs and I’ll tear my own chest open for you. Just don’t take your lips away from mine.’ He swallows and nods, since he can’t talk.
“Come with me,” Kris says, and Adam can’t help but follow him. Kris owns him now; he’ll go wherever Kris wants him to.
Kris has a studio in the basement; it’s small and not half as intimidating as the big one they used for recording yesterday. That suits Adam just fine; everything is overwhelming enough with just the two of them. He’s been singing for the last two hours, his verse and also variations of the harmonies for the chorus, and then Kris taught him how to use the table so he can go inside the cabin and record his own parts. And under Kris’ deft fingers, the song blooms and turns into this wonderful anthem that pierces Adam heart with exquisite pain. He’s used to Mer-singing, he thought he had heard everything, but Kris’ voice is not exactly Mer, it’s raspy, and sultry and natural in a way that Mer voices like Adam’s are not. The contrast between Kris’ unpretentious voice and Adam’s showy one works beautifully on the song. It gives it intensity, and profundity, and the result is amazing.
They listen to the finished song once more. Kris smiles proudly.
“It only has piano,” he says. “But I’m sure the effect would be even stronger with a whole orchestra. I’m so grateful, man, I can’t even tell you how much this means to me.”
“So, it pleases you?” he asks, his heart beating madly on his chest. This is it. If Kris is pleased with their song…
Kris laughs and leans to work on the small laptop that’s resting on one of the extra tables. “Yeah, you could say I’m pleased. This is going to bitch-slap Danny in the face.”
Adam closes his eyes in relief, and when he opens them again, Kris is typing like crazy, and Adam comes closer, until he’s right behind Kris, watching him composing a message. They’re both sweating, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to their foreheads. Kris smells strong, and Adam wants to lick him all over. He’s hard, he’s been hard since he heard the way their voices entwine and intermingle with each other in the last chorus.
Kris hits the send button and closes his laptop. “Perfect. That will show them!” he says, and when he turns around he jumps when he realizes how close Adam is to him. “Oh,” he says, and his eyes rest on Adam’s lips. He blushes and then he tries to sidestep Adam.
“It’s hot in here,” he says, voice rough. He signals over his shoulder towards the stairs “I’ll-I’m going to…Would you like some water or a soda?”
Oh, Adam needs water all right. But not the kind of water Kris thinks. He catches Kris’ hand and brings him closer until Kris is pressed to his body. Kris gulps.
“We gave each other presents, we shared a nest, and we fed each other. Last night, we imprinted and now we’ve just made sounds together. The Courtship is complete now.”
“What?” Kris eyes widen, and Adam notices with pleasure that his pupils are wide.
“We sang as one, we made a song for our pod. The Ritual is over, Kris. Now it’s time to mate,” he says firmly, and captures Kris’ mouth with his.
Kris tries to fight for a moment, but then he sighs and surrenders his mouth, and Adam wants to shout his happiness like the whales do, larges pulses of sound that travel across miles of ocean. But Kris licks the roof of his mouth, and brings him back from the places his mind has gone.
The air in the room is stale and humid, and the layers between their feverish skins are making everything difficult. Adam feels bloated and graceless, like when he had his grow spurt and he didn’t know how to correctly swim with such a long tail. Everything feels wrong, dusty and parched, and he can’t, he can’t have as much Kris as his skin needs. This is not working.
He still has Kris’ wrist in his hand, so he takes a step back and uses his grip to guide him up the stairs.
“You’ve been driving me crazy since last night,” he says while they take the steps two by two. “I need to take those clothes off you because they’re so fucking distracting,” he adds while they cross the foyer, and Kris whimpers. He smirks. “I’m going to learn the shape of your body by taste,” he says, navigating across the furniture of the sitting room, and he can feel Kris’ shudder without having to look back, he trembles so hard.
“Oh my God,” he says, voice hoarse.
Adam smiles. He’s going to drive Kris wild.
And then they are finally in the garden and he throws Kris into the swimming pool.
“What do you mean we need water?” Kris blurts out indignantly, toweling his hair dry.
“What do you mean we don’t?” he asks back. He has his arm crossed across his chest, and he knows he’s acting like a spoiled minnow, but he doesn’t care. He needs to mate, dammit, and he needs it now. Kris is being unreasonable, with this pretense of mating dry, like they were turtles or something. The gall of his mate, unbelievable!
“You can’t-I have never…Argh, you’re impossible!” Kris shouts and uses the towel to hide his face and shouts a little more.
“You’re not being sensitive, Kristopher. I won’t talk to you until you properly respect our cultural differences,” he says with dignity, and turns back on his heels to go back to the sitting room. It’s an impressive exit, if he does say so himself. Pity Kris ruins it laughing his head off. He stops at the threshold and looks back, frowning. “Are you laughing at me?”
“No, no,” Kris says, but he’s laughing so hard his eyes are full of tears. “Believe me, I’m not laughing at you.”
“You could have fooled me.”
Kris laughs a little more and leaves the towel over the sink. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, man. It’s only that, here on the surface, we don’t usually throw ourselves into cold water whenever we’re feeling frisky, you know?”
Adam watches him come closer. “But how do you mate if you’re not underwater?” He has serious doubts about how dry-mating works.
Kris stands in front of him, he’s wearing only his drenched jeans, and all that naked skin is taunting Adam.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, and Adam nods. “Come here, then.” He says, taking Adam’s hand in his and walking backwards towards his bed.
Dry-mating is awesome. Awesome.
Kris also likes Wet-mating, and he concedes that maneuverability is better if they’re underwater. Clean up is simpler, too.
The neighbor cheering them from her window? That part they have to figure out.
Adam watches the full moon from Kris’ bed. The big French door is open, and even if the ocean is a few miles away, he still can smell it. Kris is dozing with his head resting on Adam’s shoulder, exhausted.
Kris’ cell beeps and Kris throws an arm over Adam’s chest and takes it from the bedside table. He chuckles when he reads the message.
“Guess what?” he says, sliding a thigh between Adam’s, using the fluid movement to raise himself over Adam, his arms at both sides of Adam’s head. “Simon Fuller wants you to sing Masquerade with me on my album.”
“Really?” He asks, surprised.
Kris licks Adam’s smile. “Yeah, and he wants you to meet him tomorrow for lunch. He has a proposal for you.”
“You’re kidding me!” Adam says, and Kris laughs, delighted. Adam turns until he has Kris pinned under him, and bites his neck until he’s all pliant and open.
He licks Kris’ collarbone. “I’m so lucky you’re my mate,” he says.
“Come on, merboy, show me how grateful you are,” Kris teases.
Adam does. He’s grateful the whole night long.
The lunch meeting ends on a happy note, despite the big, big fuck up that occurs when Adam realizes that people actually choose the lobsters from the big tanks around the restaurant so the waiters can bring them freshly cooked to the table.
“No, I don’t mind it at all,” Fuller says to Kris, who’s rubbing Adam’s back while he hiccups. “In fact, I think it’s good that Adam feels so strongly about Animal Rights.”
“Yeah,” Kris agrees amiably, patting the hand Adam clutches on the tablecloth. “It’s a touchy subject for him.”
Adam blows his nose with his napkin.
Masquerade is number one for twenty weeks. Adam is delighted, and he assumes his mate is delighted, too, but Kris is not talking to him since he discovered he was pregnant, so Adam's not really sure.
Really, four fertilized eggs are not too much. His mate is a drama queen.
Fin.
ETA: GUYS!
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This entry was originally posted at http://aneas.dreamwidth.org/13920.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
kradamadness is now over. The first time I made some art, the second time I made some...thing, an hybrid between fic, mix and art, so this time I decided to be traditional and try to write a short piece. Little I knew that if the prompt is by
akavertigo, then the result is going to be kind of excentric.
So here it is, my cracky little baby, please be gentle with it, it's shy.
Title: Too Mer to Woo Peaceably.
Author:
aneas
Word-Count: 8 500.
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Adam/Kris.
Disclaimer: This portrayal is entirely fictional. Not for profit, just for our entertainment.
Warnings: Another Mer!fic. I’m starting to worry. Also? Incredible levels of crack.
Betas: My delicious
cookie57 and
cleverboots. I’m the luckiest girl ever for having them in my life.
Notes: So, there was a time when
akavertigo was in the mood for some Mer!Adam trying to recover his Long Lost Mate, and
moirariordan thought the world needed some Mermaid-Courtship Rituals, so they prompted me, not realizing that I’m so easy it’s a shame, really…and a few weeks later, this fic happened.
Summary: `Adam bites his lip, sheepishly. “Under normal circumstances, we’d have five cycles of courtship to get used to each other, but these are not normal circumstances. We’re actually on a very strict timeline, Kristopher. Excuse me for being a little anxious this courtship seems to be going nowhere,” he says, defensively.’
“Oh, please, not again.” Kris lets his bag fall to the floor with a loud thump. “This is starting to get ridiculous.”
Adam bites his lip, sheepishly. “Under normal circumstances, we’d have five cycles of courtship to get used to each other, but these are not normal circumstances. We’re actually on a very strict timeline, Kristopher. Excuse me for being a little anxious this courtship seems to be going nowhere,” he says, defensively.
“For the last time, man, I’m not your long lost fishy fiancée, or whatever,” his mate says, and then has the gall to wince at Adam’s offended shriek.
“Not fishy: Mer! How many times do I have to tell you, we’re Mer?”
“And how many times do I have to tell you this is not romantic, this is called “stalking”?” Kris sighs and rubs his forehead, and Adam thinks absently that is a shame his hair is not a little bit longer. It would look great at the wedding floating around Kris’ head like a halo. “And the naked thing doesn’t help either, buddy.”
“But I have legs!” Adam protests, raising up from the armchair and turning around so Kris can admire them. “And they’re amazing! So long and smooth and they end in fingers and everything! Ten fingers, like the ones on my hands. Isn’t it neat?” he says, looking down and moving all twenty fingers. This is never going to get old. He can move them! Yay! “I think it’s really efficient, because if they’re ten too, you can tell if you’ve lost one with just a glance.” He smiles. He loves it when things make sense. A sudden idea strikes him. “Do they grow back like a starfish arm if you lose one? Because that would be super cool!”
Kris looks at him in silence, a weird expression on his face. “First of all, they’re not called fingers, they’re toes and they don’t grow back; and secondly, you don’t have to be naked all the time to show me you have legs. I happen to have noti- what the hell am I doing, talking with you like you’re sane?” he says, and takes the phone out of his pocket.
He’s going to call for security Adam knows by now, and even if he’s getting used to it, the last time the guys weren’t exactly nice. “Please, don’t!” he begs. “I only want to talk to you and make you understand we are meant to be together! It’s written in the tides!”
He comes closer and tries to stop Kris without actually touching him. He is so warm! Adam is not used to it, and to be honest, he’s not sure he likes it. He can feel the warmth coming off of Kris in waves. It always makes him shiver.
Kris blushes at their closeness and keeps his eyes locked in Adam’s face. “This is the fourth time in the last ten hours you’ve burgled a place I’m in. I don’t even care who slipped you a copy of my schedule, man,” he raises a hand to interrupt Adam. “Hey! I didn’t believe your Mating Compass Theory the other times and I’m not going to believe it now, so don’t bother explaining it again. I just want to chill at home and sleep for a month. And I can’t do it with a ten-foot tall naked redhead in my sitting room. ”
He looks tired, Adam notices. Granted, it’s not like Adam has tons of experience with Dry Ones, they all look kind of bland to him: they barely sparkle at all, their colors are totally muted and their hair is so…flat, but even for an inhabitant of The Mainland his mate looks dim. He has dark shadows under his eyes, and pale lips, and his hair, his hair looks so depressed! It’s painful to see, really. Somebody needs to take care of him.
“Give me a chance, okay? Just one little thing, and I’ll prove to you that I’m not a stalker, Kris.” He tries to project earnestness, and something in Kris eyes tells him he has won just a second before his mate opens his mouth.
“You have a minute, buddy, one minute. I advise you to use it wisely,” he says.
“Great!” Adam smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. “I’m going to need your cell.”
Kris narrows his eyes, and instinctively hides the cell behind his back, like Adam is going to take it and hit him on the head, or something.
“Please?” he begs, eye wide. “You can push the numbers, if you don’t want me touching it. I don’t care. My mother made me memorize the number in case I needed it.”
For a moment he thinks it’s not going to work. “All right, tell me the number,” Kris reluctantly says, and Adam inhales.
He recites the numbers, and by the time he reaches the last one Kris is clearly surprised, looking at the screen. “What the-” he tries to say.
Adam interrupts him. “On speaker, please.”
Kris opens his mouth, but he closes it again without saying a word. He pushes the green button, and Adam can hear the tone.
“Hey, Krissy-boy, how are you?” says a voice, and Adam smiles, delighted. So Cassidy knows Kris, that’s even better!
“Cass?” Kris says, and the guy at the other side of the line laughs.
“Yeah! Don’t sound so surprised, you’re the one that’s calling. What happened? Did you confuse the number?”
“I’m not really sure,” Kris says, and Adam decides that it’s time to take control of the situation.
He breathes deeply. “Greetings from The Depths, Brother Cassidy Haley. I’m Adam, son of Leila, and I belong to the Lambert Gam. May the peace of The Depths be with you.”
He’s proud of how well the formal greeting flies from his mouth. Kris is looking at him with a flabbergasted expression; half awe, half surprise.
There’s a pregnant silence from the other side of the line, and then…“Greetings from The Surface, Brother Adam Lambert. May the light of The Mainland be with you,” Cassidy answers, also exquisitely. Adam smiles, thinking that this shows how wrong the Council of the Four is when they say the young have no respect for traditions. If Paula were here, she would be so proud…
Then Cassidy says, laughing: “Oh, fuck me with a screwdriver, Kris, you’ve got yourself hitched!” And he ruins the introduction rite completely.
His mate looks closer to apoplexy with each second.
“So help me god, Cass, if this is a joke,” Kris shouts, “I swear I’ll kick your ass so much you won’t be sitting for a year.”
“I can see why you don’t believe it, Kris, but it’s true. There are mer-people, and they live among us.”
Adam watches his mate hit his head repeatedly against the wall. That has to hurt.
“And I thought winning American Idol was the weirdest thing in my life,” Kris mumbles.
“And why would you think that I’d send you a guy to tell you he’s your fiancé as a joke?” The voice coming from the cell in Adam’s hand sounds a little affronted.
“Maybe because just two days ago you were saying that I desperately need to get laid, and this guy is naked in the middle of my sitting room?”
“I wouldn’t send you a hooker!” Cass is really insulted by the insinuation, Adam can tell.
“I know, I know,” Kris says. “That’s more Brad’s style.”
“That was just one time, Kris, just one time. Are you never going to let it go?”
Adam watches how Kris starts to hit his head again. “I need new friends. I totally, totally, need new friends in my life.” He punctuates every word with a hit to the wall.
Adam agrees wholeheartedly. That Brad person is an insensate. Nobody’s going to be sending hookers to his mate. Those things are dangerous! He could be hurt! Adam found a hook once and it pinched his arm and it hurt a lot. No, no hookers near his mate. He doesn’t approve of them. They‘re barbaric.
When Kris finally switches off his phone, they look at each other across the room. The conversation has clearly exhausted his mate.
“You need to rest,” Adam says. He’s going to show his mate what a good partner he is, taking care of all Kris’ needs and providing for him. “Go take a bath, and I’ll prepare a bite for you, okay? Then we’ll talk.”
He smiles, trying to project an air of security and competence. He can so project competence! It’s all in the teeth, really.
Kris doesn’t seem reassured, but then a yawn assaults him, and wow! He really can stretch his jaw! Adam is blushing!, and he finally says, “You know what? After all that’s happened this afternoon, I don’t care if you’re a crazy stalker/murderer too. I’m so tired I’m going to pass out right now,” and Adam feels totally proud of himself when Kris turns around and goes to his room.
His good mood lasts until he’s in the kitchen and realizes that he doesn’t actually have the faintest idea how to use any of the weird implements Kristopher has in it. But they’re shiny, and Adam likes shiny things. It shouldn’t be complicated; he just has to use logic. He picks up a stick with two metallic tines and looks at it. He tilts his head. Then he looks around, because this obviously has to…oh. Oh. Of course! A little white box in the wall has two tiny holes in it. Two tines, two holes. It seems like the Dry Ones totally love symmetry. Adam could get used to that.
Before he can test his theory, there’s a loud noise from the bathroom and a muffled shout. Adam smiles to himself. So his mate has found the jellyfish in the bathtub, hasn’t he? He must be delighted. Those are very special jellyfish, Adam had to ask for a lot of favors to get them safely delivered, but it’s so worth it! It’s his first big present to Kris. The courtship ritual has begun!
Apparently, only water-born people like jellyfish in their bathtubs. The Dry Ones prefer bubbles, and not the oxygen ones, but bubbles made of soap! Which shows how little they know, in Adam’s opinion, but that’s something he keeps to himself. The worst part, though, is that they bathe in freshwater, which baffles Adam completely. No salt. Revolting.
He’s starting to think that maybe his “Finding My Long Lost Mate and Making Him Fall in Love with Me” plan is going to be harder than he thought. Everything is strange and confusing, and things up here don’t make sense at all.
At least the Dry Ones still use sponges, even if they’re weird and plastic-y and not alive at all.
Adam doesn’t care how cool his new legs are. He’s starting to miss The Depths a lot.
It’s a good thing Kris is more tired than angry, because with all the taking care of the minuscule jellyfish and cleaning up the mess of the bathroom and stuff, Adam failed to produce any kind of food for his mate.
Kris opens the big white box in the kitchen and takes out some weird algae. It’s so green! The leaves are kind of crunchy and totally dry, but Kris soon adds some yellow liquid that smells pungent and gorgeous, and some salt, Yay! and Adam should totally be paying more attention, because if that’s what Kris eats, then Adam should learn how to prepare it. But what he’s wearing is distracting him. Kris has thrown him some fabrics to try on. “For the love of God, put on some clothes, man!” he said, like he was angry, but he can’t fool Adam, he can totally see that the fabrics are Kris’ first courting present. So cute! His mate is shy; he still thinks he has to act like he doesn’t want the courtship at all.
Adam’s mom has raised him well and he tried the clothes on so Kris won’t feel awful, which, by the way, is exactly was Kris should have done with the jellyfish even if he didn’t like them. Please, they didn’t even sting so badly! He thinks. And to be honest, he has the worst present by far, because the jellyfishes were cool and funny, and these clothes are obnoxious. And ugly. He doesn’t like the feeling of being surrounded by dry, rough fabric. It’s really off-putting. The touch of the material against his skin is distracting, it makes him notice his body in a way that being naked doesn’t. It feels like he’s surrounded by, he doesn’t know, sensuality, or something. And the texture is all wrong, everything is coarse, nothing is slick or wet. Disconcerting.
He’s still pondering it, a finger poking the little tag that itches and is irritating his neck’s skin, so it takes him completely by surprise when Kris opens a can and a weirdly familiar smell reaches him.
“What is this?” he asks, suspicious.
And when Kris answers, “Crab meat,” Adam screams and faints.
Sandwiches are awesome. He likes bread. Bread is so, so cool…Adam doesn’t even mind that he has to drink, like, gallons of water to make the food go down. It tastes amazing! Tomatoes are great, fresh and juicy, and Kris lets him repeat twice. He seems really ashamed; he says he’s sorry he’s been so insensitive, and Adam forgives him easily because it’s not really Kris’ fault that Sebastian’s loss is still recent. Adam is benevolent like that.
He is a big fan of benevolence, especially if it gets him more sandwiches.
Kris is asleep. His head is on Adam’s shoulder, and he hasn’t moved for a while. They’re sitting watching a film, and they started at opposite ends of the sofa, but Kris is exhausted and he quickly fell sleep, so Adam had no problem getting closer to his mate, and now he is trying to get used to his warm presence. Adam likes the film a lot, it’s so instructive, and he’s starting to realize that the clothing thing doesn’t have to be so taxing, after all. Maybe only Kris’ clothes are boring. He likes what the guy at the screen is wearing on his legs. It’s black and shiny, like the back of a whale, and it showcases his legs beautifully. The girl seems to like the garment, too, because the couple is sharing bubbles. With their mouths! Like if they were mated! Adam is glad Kris is asleep, because he’s blushing. He doesn’t want to appear inexperienced to Kris. It’s bad enough that his mate has been lost for so long, cut out from his rightful place, from his legacy, growing up like a Dry One. If he knew Adam has never shared bubbles with anyone before, he would laugh and maybe he wouldn’t want to mate with him.
Adam shudders. He still can’t believe his mate is alive. He was resigned to live alone forever. When the news of a Long Lost Mer arrived with the shoal of tuna, Adam didn’t want to believe that his mate was the one they were all talking about. He didn’t believe the dolphins, either. Big pranksters, the dolphins, they’re not trustworthy. But then his mother forced him to leave The Depths and swim to The Surface. He heard The Calling with his own ears and couldn’t deny it any longer.
His mate was alive, and everybody was so happy! Adam wasn’t going to end up old and alone! He was really eager to leave The Depths for the first time since he was an egg. The Calling was so beautiful; The Council of the Four said that it was the most gorgeous Calling of the last eight years, Ha! Take that, Cook!, so he was really, really excited to go out and finally meet his mate.
But Kris didn’t recognize him when Adam appeared at his studio, and Adam was so surprised by this unexpected circumstance that he barely had time to explain anything to Kris before two big guys threw him out on the street. He still doesn’t know why Kris can’t feel they’re mates.
The second time he saw his mate, Kris was in a small black cabin, like a ship without sails, and he jumped back and hit his head when Adam got into it. Adam had a little more time to explain himself, but by the time he was saying “…and your parents forgot your egg ashore when they were coming back to The Depths, that’s where we’re from, by the way-” the same two guys opened the door and threw him out, again. Leaving him alone on the street. Again. And the last thing Adam heard before the little black ship went away was Kris’ voice saying: “I’m not from the depths, what the- I’m from Arkansas, dude!”
Maybe Arkansas is a magic place with amnesiac powers, or something. He has heard that in some places of The Mainland where there is no water, people see things that are not there, like water and vegetation and stuff. Maybe Arkansas is like that, too. Or maybe what the octopus said is true and The Soil makes you crazy.
Anyway, right now Adam has his mate burrowed by his side, and although his smell should be completely wrong, all sweet and warm, the fact is that Adam likes the way his mate smells. A lot.
Adam winces when he hears Kris puking his guts out. He doesn’t understand why Kris doesn’t believe him.
“I told you the Courtship has begun!” he shouts at the closed door. Kris doesn’t answer. “The second phase forces us to be closer at all times, Kris! You shouldn’t have tried to go to work this morning without me!”
“Shut up!” Kris shouts, and Adam thinks that it’s really unfortunate that his mate is not a morning person.
Adam caresses Kris’s hair, and he smiles when his mate burrows his face into the covers and nudges the hand petting him. He’s really queasy, and Adam shouldn’t feel so happy about his misery, but he can’t help it. The way Kris rests beside him, the implicit trust warms his heart. It means Kris is getting used to his presence and relies on him. It’s a very good sign for the Courtship and it makes him feel really caring, like he has to treasure Kris and keep him safe and happy.
Obviously, Kris’ nausea also mean that Kris will be the one carrying the eggs and Adam will be the one doing the actual fertilizing, (hence the protectiveness) but his inner voice tells him that it’s better if he keeps this little detail secret until Kris is more used to the idea of being Mer.
“How did you know that guy wanted to hurt me?” Kris asks, and bites the macaroon cautiously. His eyes widen at the taste and then he puts the whole thing in his mouth. He groans in pleasure.
Adam smirks. Black sesame and nori macaroons: he knew they’d be a success. Feeding his mate provides him with an atavistic pleasure he never imagined. He pops one into his own mouth and wants to smirk again at the minuscule pout Kris makes before stealing another one for himself. He has to send Cass the biggest fruit basket ever. He definitely has gone above and beyond with this. They’re only distant cousins, after all. The clothes were more than enough. That he added the food is really thoughtful, Adam has no words.
Kris prods him with his foot, forcing him to talk. Adam offers him a fish roll and Kris scrunches his nose but eats it anyway. They’re sitting in Kris’s garden, under a big, green umbrella. When Kris’ manager told him to spend the morning at home, Adam quickly convinced him to have a picnic. Kris needs some fresh air; Adam doesn’t like the pale color of his skin at all. It’s obvious he works too much.
“The guy, Adam. The guy with the homophobic t-shirt and the crazy eyes from yesterday,” Kris says, and Adam tightens his jaw. He doesn’t want to remember it.
“What about him?” he asks, and when Kris opens his mouth, he props a little seaweed cracker inside. Kris frowns, and Adam knows he can’t distract him by stuffing his mouth with food any longer.
“How did you know he was going to attack me?” Kris asks when he finishes chewing, and Adam remembers the way things slowed down, how he could see the guy jumping from nowhere, in slow motion, his eyes full of hate and his fisted hands, the way he ran towards Kris, and how much hate his grimace showed.
“He was running and shouting at you in a dark alley, Kris. What did you think he was going to do, ask for your autograph?” he asks, indignantly. He still feels scared. And guilty, because he knows the reason Kris was in that alley was because Adam’s presence had worried his handlers and forced them to choose another exit. Kris usually leaves the premises using the front door.
“A lot of people got angry when I came out,” Kris says reasonably. “The first openly gay American idol. Some controversy is expected.”
“You shouldn’t have been alone. Where were your security guys, anyway?” he asks, angry again.
Kris smirks. “They were distracted. They were looking for this naked guy that has the habit of popping up out of nowhere and telling weird stories about soul mates and mermaids.”
“You should consider firing them,” he pouts, and Kris laughs out loud. “No, really, they’re not so good.”
“I still can’t believe how fast you moved,” Kris says, shaking his head. Adam knows he was just lucky, that he mostly knocked the weirdo out because the guy wasn’t expecting a six-foot tall naked man to appear suddenly behind a garbage bin. But the truth is that he had been so consumed by rage, thinking: this creature, this stupid, petty creature wants to touch, to hurt my mate, how dare he, that he didn’t even remember what happened. He can’t remember how he ended pinning the guy against a wall, a hand around his throat, the other crushing the guy’s fist, the blood of his broken nose slowly dripping on Adam’s skin, so hot, so disgusting. All he remembers is how much he wanted to slam him against the wall, one time, and another. And another one, for good measure.
“If you try to touch him again I’m going to rip your fucking throat open,” he had whispered and the guy nodded.
He had released the guy then, watched him fall to his knees in absent interest, and he left without looking back at Kris, because he didn’t want to see the repugnance in his eyes, the disappointment. He needed water, anyway, to submerge himself and clean the revolting feeling of warm, sticky blood on his skin.
“Adam,” Kris says, and he snaps out of his reverie, and Kris is there, looking at him, worried eyes and concerned mouth, and Adam wants to lick his lower lip, wants to share bubbles with him so much he almost hurts. Kris opens his mouth, and Adam can’t listen to what he’s going to say, he can’t, he’s not prepared.
“More sushi?” he asks, and Kris closes his mouth. Is disappointment what Adam sees in his eyes? It’s gone as soon as it came, and Kris shrugs.
“I would like to know why it’s okay to eat fish but seafood is forbidden,” he says, and takes another macaroon.
“Seafood is not forbidden, silly. You can eat all the clams you want, for example. But crabs are intelligent creatures, Kris; they have feelings. Would you eat your pets? I mean, surely you’d never eat a cat, or a dog, or a cow, would you? Kris? Oh. Oh, my-tell me you don’t-oh, you’re all kind of sick, you people! What’s wrong with you?”
When Kris’ management finally accept that Kris can’t go anywhere without Adam, they come up with the stupidest idea ever, and that’s how Adam begins to pose as Kris’ new Personal Assistant-Security guy-Fashion Guru, though Kris doesn’t know about the last part, yet. So far, it’s going well, despite the fact that he doesn’t know where anything is, or how to use a computer, or where they are supposed to be at any given moment, but Kris smiles a lot, and the security guys are really nice once you get to know them, and Adam has new black trousers and a beanie that is like a soft shell for his head, because the lack of water makes his hair all flat and sad, too.
And then Kris has to go to a photo shoot, and Adam falls in love.
The make-up girl lets him keep a lot of the free samples and he’s as excited as an octopus with a white rock. She even does his face while Kris is with the photographer, and he’s amazed at the image looking back at him from the mirror. He hadn’t noticed how much he missed the colors of his tail until she put them back on his eyelids.
“Those are, definitely, your colors,” she says, and Adam can only nod. Green, three shades of blue, sparkling silver, and the downy black of The Depths in his eyelashes: the longing is going to kill him. The girl tilts her purple head. “We still have time, love. Do you want me to do something with your hair?”
“Oh, hell yes!” he says fervently, and she laughs.
Oh, The Surface is a wonderful, wonderful place. Adam is admiring his amazing new haircut, all spiky and shiny. It’s marvelous work because now his hair doesn’t sit flatly on his head, it rises and falls like it does when he’s underwater, and the black is so deep and vibrant he’s almost dizzy with happiness. Scarlett even makes the hairdresser put some blue and green in it, so now his hair even matches his eye shadow, and Allison is going to love it when she sees it. Adam hopes there’s waterproof make up or the effect won’t be half as striking.
When Kris walks in and sees him, he actually trips over his own feet.
“You-you look amazing,” he says, and Adam smiles. Could this day get better?
There’s a little girl arguing with her mother outside the studio, and when they get down to the car, she escapes her mother’s grip, throws a big grocery bag to the floor, and starts to run. Kris intercepts her, and she crashes against his legs.
“Whoa there,” he says, and holds her until she stops fidgeting. “Where do you think you’re going, little lady?”
She starts to answer, but then she notices Adam.
“Oh! You’re so shiny!” She says, and her mother blushes and tries to disentangle her from Kris’ legs. Kris snickers, but Adam pays him no mind. He crouches until he’s eye level with the girl.
“You’re shiny, too. Your hair is gorgeous,” he says, but she shakes his head.
“It’s orange,” she says, outraged, like the color affronts her personally.
Her mother sighs. “It’s not orange, it’s red,” she says with a tired tone that implies that they’ve had this conversation a lot of times. The kid rolls her eyes, and Adam tries not to smile. `I share your pain, little sister’ his inner voice says.
“I think ginger hair is beautiful,” Kris says, and when the girl snorts, he adds, “like coral.”
Both Adam and the girl look up at him. Kris shrugs. “What? Coral is awesome. I like the way the sun goes through water and brings out the color of the reef. I think that you’re going to love your hair in a few years. Every girl in your school is going to be insanely jealous.”
She seems to like that. A lot. Adam feels all fuzzy and warm inside. Kris likes red hair too! His mate is a strange, wonderful creature. Adam is really lucky.
They say their goodbyes, and she keeps turning back to wave at them. Adam feels absurdly happy and can’t help but smile all the way to the recording studio. “You’re going to be amazing with the tadpoles, “ he says.
Kris makes a face. “I don’t think so, man.”
Adam puts a comforting hand over Kris’ shoulder. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll help you all the time.”
Kris’ mouth twitches, and Adam can see he’s trying to suppress a smile. “See, that’s not really that reassuring, buddy.”
Kris’ voice is amazing. Adam really loves it. The first time he hears it live, Kris is in the studio and Adam is in the control booth, and it’s an incredible experience. Adam’s skin itches, his eyes are full of water and he’s so proud of his mate he feels his heart near to bursting. He has to restrain himself; he wants to swallow Kris’s voice with his mouth so badly he almost can’t take it.
“Well, hello,” says an oily guy, eying Adam up and down. “Who’s the arm candy?” he asks Kris, the insulting tone making Adam frown.
“He’s Adam,” Kris answers, his tone terse. He sounds off, and Adam instantly turns his head to look at him. Is this revolting…individual upsetting his mate?
“Oh, I see,” the man leers, and sits with them without asking for their permission. The cafeteria is almost full, but there are still some empty tables around. There’s no need to be so rude. The young blond girl that comes with the guy stands behind him. Kris rolls his eyes and quickly gets up to bring a chair closer to the table, gesturing her to sit down. She smiles at him, but she keeps her cell phone to her ear.
The guy is still looking at Adam with a lecherous look, and Adam is starting to get pissed off. The guy winks at him when he notices his irritation. Though he doesn’t’ take his eyes off Adam when he speaks, is clear he’s not addressing Adam at all. “Now I understand your insistence in getting a new PA. I would totally harass the Powers That Be for a pretty, pretty thing like him, too.”
Kris bites his lower lip and Adam squeezes his mate’s knee under the table.
The scum talks again. “And tell me, does the Boy Toy talk or does he just look pretty?”
Adam wants to say: `Oh, he talks all right, and he can also kick your sorry excuse of an ass without ruining his new and fantastic make up’ but Kris beats him to it.
“Did you want something, Danny, or are you being your usual charming self just for fun?” Kris tone is deceitfully tired, but Adam can feel his tension.
“I just wanted to be the first to tell you that Simon finally saw the light, and I’ll be the one singing Masquerade with Carrie Underwood.”
Adam doesn’t know what are they talking about, but it must be a big deal, because if he thought Kris was tense before, now he was near the breaking point. “What?” he says.
“Come on, Kris,” Danny chuckles. “It can’t come as a surprise. It makes no sense for you to sing a love song as a duet with a woman, not after you admitted being queerer than a three-dollar bill.”
“But I wrote that song,” Kris says through clenched teeth.
“No one is denying that. But the fact is the label bought it, it belongs to them. Cheer up; you’ll be properly credit as the songwriter on my album. Isn’t it wonderful? A song on a real singer’s CD! Bet you never thought you’d make it that far.”
Danny rises up, happy that his work here is done. Adam is surprised to see that poison spreads in air the same way calamari ink spreads in water. In the toxic wake of his words, Danny disappears. The girl sends an apologetic look at Adam before she follows him. She never stopped talking on her phone for even a moment.
When Adam looks at Kris, he’s pale. “Are you okay?” he asks, and Kris looks up.
“I’m so sick of it, you know?” he says, and Adam blinks, confused. Kris shakes his head. “I never tried to hide it, I thought that if being gay was a part of me, then people would just have to accept it or kick me off the show. I wasn’t trying to make a statement, or- I don’t know, be a poster gay for who knows what. But I made it to the top ten, and then to the top five. By the time I won it had grown even bigger, and now it has totally overshadowed the fact that I can sing. Like the most important thing about me is that I’m gay, not that I’m a singer, and it’s stupid and it shouldn’t bother me, but it does!” He rubs his eye with his hand, and laughs despairingly. “I’m not dealing with it very well, I’m afraid.”
“And that guy, he is…?” Adam asks, his fingers moving slowly in a caress over Kris’ hand.
“That’s Danny Gokey, my asshole runner up,” he answers. “He didn’t take it well when I won, and it doesn’t help that we share the same label.”
Kris looks so small and so sad; Adam has to do something, anything.
“Do you want me to dispose of him?” he asks. “Some sharks owe me a couple of favors.”
Kris laughs. “You’re crazy!” When he looks at Adam, the fondness is evident.
“I’m not even joking,” he says, and that makes Kris smile even more. He turns his hand up and laces his fingers with Adam’s.
“Thanks, man,” he says, and Adam feels his heart flutter in his chest like an eel.
By dinnertime, Adam thinks he already has a grip on the blackberry thing. It’s all for naught, Kris’ former PA is still his de facto assistant, and she still rules Kris’ life with an iron fist. But people expect to see Adam busy all the time, and Adam doesn’t want to see Kris blush again when people look Adam up and down and smirk at him with a knowing smile.
He doesn’t want Kris to feel ashamed of him.
Adam tries not to show it, but he’s starting to be really worried. He has a deadline. Kris has to fall in love with him by this time tomorrow, with the change of the moon, because the tide will recess then and it will take Adam with it. If Kris doesn’t love Adam back by then, then he’ll be turned into nacre. And okay, nacre is pretty cool, it shines and all, but, still, not Adam’s first choice.
He looks at Kris over the table, the light of the restaurant making his warm eyes shine while they roam over the menu. He’s also biting his lower lip, and that makes Adam squirm in his seat.
“Squid okay?” he asks, and Adam nods. He just flat refused to even read the menu, and Kris offered to order for both of them. It’s clear he doesn’t want a repeat of the cafeteria scene when Adam discovered the chicken salad. The tears are still fresh in their minds.
Their waitress smiles at Kris when he gives her the menu and he orders the Black Risotto with Lima Beans and Baby Squid.
“You’ll love it,” he says, and Adam nods. He doesn’t have the foggiest idea what risotto or lima beans are, but he approves of black food, just on principle. “So, how did you like your first day as my PA?”
“I really liked the photo shoot part,” he answers earnestly.
Kris chuckles. “Of course you did.”
“But what I liked best was hearing you sing,” Adam adds.
Kris blushes and lowers his eyes to the tablecloth. He’s adorable, Adam wants to wrap him in his arms and swim him down to The Depths.
“Tomorrow is my day off,” Kris says, after a while.
“Off what?” Adam asks, intrigued.
“Off work!” Kris laughs. “Do you want to go dancing tonight and meet my friends?”
Adam is not sure. On one hand: music, and people, and knowing more about Kris. On the other hand, Kris’ friends, the ones that like hooks and would make Adam feel out of place.
“Maybe we could go home and watch another movie,” he tentatively offers.
Kris’ smile is radiant. “Home,” he says, and he smiles even wider. “Yeah, I would like that.”
Cass sent Adam great clothes. They’re tight, and shiny, and some of them have spikes, even. He really loves the long jacket with the metallic net on the shoulders. It’s ridiculously cool.
He still doesn’t know why Kris laughs so hard when he sees that Adam wants to wear it to bed. Apparently, bedclothes are supposed to be comfortable, smooth things that you wear so it’s easy to toss and turn when you’re in bed.
Adam still can’t see the problem. Leather is totally comfortable. The Dry Ones should try to sleep on a sea urchin infested reef to know what uncomfortable actually means.
Also, the yoga pants, though black and undoubtedly fantastic, hide nothing at all, and Adam is sweating, gross, gross, gross, by the time Kris cuddles with him on the sofa, because his mate smells so good, and he’s so warm, and Kris’ skin is so smooth but not slippery at all, and Adam’s hard like that old anchor Neil found in the Caribbean sea.
Second phase has obviously begun, and now it’s going to be mating time, all the fucking time, and Adam is equally frightened and excited.
How could they have imprinted so fast? And why Kris can’t feel it?
Second night in a row they spend sleeping on the sofa, and Adam’s neck is going to kill him. He’s not in a good mood, because his skin prickles, craving Kris’ skin like crazy, letting him know that he’s running out of time.
Kris is preparing breakfast, more bread, and tomato, and juice; and the smell of the black beverage he’s so fond of, teases Adam’s nostrils. How Kris can drink it, Adam doesn’t know. It’s so strong and so hot! Disgusting.
He sighs and rubs his head. His bad mood can’t ruin Kris’ day off. He almost jumps when Kris puts a plate with toast in front of him.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and his eyes are concerned.
`No, I’m not,´ Adam wants to say. `We imprinted, and we need to mate right now, because if I don’t bend you over the table in the next five minutes, I’m going to be raving mad by the end of breakfast´. But he can’t scare Kris, he knows, so he just shrugs and mumbles: “Headache.”
“Oh, poor you,” Kris says, and kisses Adam’s forehead. Adam closes his eyes, trying to protect himself from the input of information that assaults him with Kris’ closeness. His touch, his smell, the warmness…Adam wants to cry.
It’s going to be a long day.
Maybe Kris doesn’t realize they have, in fact, imprinted on each other, but it doesn’t stop him for presenting the whole set of symptoms. He touches Adam at the slightest opportunity; his body is always turned towards Adam’s, no matter what they’re doing, and even if they start at opposite corners of the room, Kris always ends up in Adam’s space, under his arm, warm by his side, looking at him under his eyelashes, glimpses of his naked skin under his clothes tantalizing Adam. And he moves with a slow grace now, where he was jerky and kind of spastic before. It’s almost like he’s trying to turn Adam on on purpose, and he smells wonderful, musky, like fresh seaweed and ozone.
Adam really needs to swim, right now, to tire his body and forget everything in the rush of going further, of going faster. He would try running, but it’s not the same at all. And he has the inkling that the boots Cass sent him are not appropriate running footwear, no matter how splendid they are.
Kris is sitting under the green umbrella again, and he’s playing his guitar, trying to relax Adam. He has his head resting on Kris’ leg, and he’s not going to move ever. The song is amazing, full of despair and longing, and Adam wonders how Kris can’t feel he’s Mer. It’s painfully obvious.
“I like this song,” he says.
Kris smiles. “Thank you. I wrote it.”
“Sing it for me again?” He asks, and Kris smiles and starts once more. When he reaches the chorus, Adam joins in.
“And now you have to tell me,
‘cause you owe me the truth:
Was it even real, was it even you?”
Kris stops playing and just sings the verse, his eyes never leaving Adam’s, and he can’t help but show off, humming the harmony to Kris’ voice, because he doesn’t know the lyrics, only the chorus.
When they stop, Kris eyes are huge. “Oh, my God, Adam, you’re unreal!” he says, and then he leans down and brings his lips to Adam’s.
Adam freezes. They’re sharing bubbles! They. Are. Sharing. Bubbles. He blinks, and feels the sliding of Kris’s lips against his. Almost against his will, his lips open and Kris bites slightly on his lower lip. Adam whole body trembles. Kris has his own eyes closed, but there’s a smile curling up the corner of his mouth.
It ends too soon, and Kris is smiling down to him. “It’s amazing what your voice can do. I need to ask you a favor,” he says.
`Anything, everything,´ Adam thinks. ’Ask me for my lungs and I’ll tear my own chest open for you. Just don’t take your lips away from mine.’ He swallows and nods, since he can’t talk.
“Come with me,” Kris says, and Adam can’t help but follow him. Kris owns him now; he’ll go wherever Kris wants him to.
Kris has a studio in the basement; it’s small and not half as intimidating as the big one they used for recording yesterday. That suits Adam just fine; everything is overwhelming enough with just the two of them. He’s been singing for the last two hours, his verse and also variations of the harmonies for the chorus, and then Kris taught him how to use the table so he can go inside the cabin and record his own parts. And under Kris’ deft fingers, the song blooms and turns into this wonderful anthem that pierces Adam heart with exquisite pain. He’s used to Mer-singing, he thought he had heard everything, but Kris’ voice is not exactly Mer, it’s raspy, and sultry and natural in a way that Mer voices like Adam’s are not. The contrast between Kris’ unpretentious voice and Adam’s showy one works beautifully on the song. It gives it intensity, and profundity, and the result is amazing.
They listen to the finished song once more. Kris smiles proudly.
“It only has piano,” he says. “But I’m sure the effect would be even stronger with a whole orchestra. I’m so grateful, man, I can’t even tell you how much this means to me.”
“So, it pleases you?” he asks, his heart beating madly on his chest. This is it. If Kris is pleased with their song…
Kris laughs and leans to work on the small laptop that’s resting on one of the extra tables. “Yeah, you could say I’m pleased. This is going to bitch-slap Danny in the face.”
Adam closes his eyes in relief, and when he opens them again, Kris is typing like crazy, and Adam comes closer, until he’s right behind Kris, watching him composing a message. They’re both sweating, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to their foreheads. Kris smells strong, and Adam wants to lick him all over. He’s hard, he’s been hard since he heard the way their voices entwine and intermingle with each other in the last chorus.
Kris hits the send button and closes his laptop. “Perfect. That will show them!” he says, and when he turns around he jumps when he realizes how close Adam is to him. “Oh,” he says, and his eyes rest on Adam’s lips. He blushes and then he tries to sidestep Adam.
“It’s hot in here,” he says, voice rough. He signals over his shoulder towards the stairs “I’ll-I’m going to…Would you like some water or a soda?”
Oh, Adam needs water all right. But not the kind of water Kris thinks. He catches Kris’ hand and brings him closer until Kris is pressed to his body. Kris gulps.
“We gave each other presents, we shared a nest, and we fed each other. Last night, we imprinted and now we’ve just made sounds together. The Courtship is complete now.”
“What?” Kris eyes widen, and Adam notices with pleasure that his pupils are wide.
“We sang as one, we made a song for our pod. The Ritual is over, Kris. Now it’s time to mate,” he says firmly, and captures Kris’ mouth with his.
Kris tries to fight for a moment, but then he sighs and surrenders his mouth, and Adam wants to shout his happiness like the whales do, larges pulses of sound that travel across miles of ocean. But Kris licks the roof of his mouth, and brings him back from the places his mind has gone.
The air in the room is stale and humid, and the layers between their feverish skins are making everything difficult. Adam feels bloated and graceless, like when he had his grow spurt and he didn’t know how to correctly swim with such a long tail. Everything feels wrong, dusty and parched, and he can’t, he can’t have as much Kris as his skin needs. This is not working.
He still has Kris’ wrist in his hand, so he takes a step back and uses his grip to guide him up the stairs.
“You’ve been driving me crazy since last night,” he says while they take the steps two by two. “I need to take those clothes off you because they’re so fucking distracting,” he adds while they cross the foyer, and Kris whimpers. He smirks. “I’m going to learn the shape of your body by taste,” he says, navigating across the furniture of the sitting room, and he can feel Kris’ shudder without having to look back, he trembles so hard.
“Oh my God,” he says, voice hoarse.
Adam smiles. He’s going to drive Kris wild.
And then they are finally in the garden and he throws Kris into the swimming pool.
“What do you mean we need water?” Kris blurts out indignantly, toweling his hair dry.
“What do you mean we don’t?” he asks back. He has his arm crossed across his chest, and he knows he’s acting like a spoiled minnow, but he doesn’t care. He needs to mate, dammit, and he needs it now. Kris is being unreasonable, with this pretense of mating dry, like they were turtles or something. The gall of his mate, unbelievable!
“You can’t-I have never…Argh, you’re impossible!” Kris shouts and uses the towel to hide his face and shouts a little more.
“You’re not being sensitive, Kristopher. I won’t talk to you until you properly respect our cultural differences,” he says with dignity, and turns back on his heels to go back to the sitting room. It’s an impressive exit, if he does say so himself. Pity Kris ruins it laughing his head off. He stops at the threshold and looks back, frowning. “Are you laughing at me?”
“No, no,” Kris says, but he’s laughing so hard his eyes are full of tears. “Believe me, I’m not laughing at you.”
“You could have fooled me.”
Kris laughs a little more and leaves the towel over the sink. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, man. It’s only that, here on the surface, we don’t usually throw ourselves into cold water whenever we’re feeling frisky, you know?”
Adam watches him come closer. “But how do you mate if you’re not underwater?” He has serious doubts about how dry-mating works.
Kris stands in front of him, he’s wearing only his drenched jeans, and all that naked skin is taunting Adam.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, and Adam nods. “Come here, then.” He says, taking Adam’s hand in his and walking backwards towards his bed.
Dry-mating is awesome. Awesome.
Kris also likes Wet-mating, and he concedes that maneuverability is better if they’re underwater. Clean up is simpler, too.
The neighbor cheering them from her window? That part they have to figure out.
Adam watches the full moon from Kris’ bed. The big French door is open, and even if the ocean is a few miles away, he still can smell it. Kris is dozing with his head resting on Adam’s shoulder, exhausted.
Kris’ cell beeps and Kris throws an arm over Adam’s chest and takes it from the bedside table. He chuckles when he reads the message.
“Guess what?” he says, sliding a thigh between Adam’s, using the fluid movement to raise himself over Adam, his arms at both sides of Adam’s head. “Simon Fuller wants you to sing Masquerade with me on my album.”
“Really?” He asks, surprised.
Kris licks Adam’s smile. “Yeah, and he wants you to meet him tomorrow for lunch. He has a proposal for you.”
“You’re kidding me!” Adam says, and Kris laughs, delighted. Adam turns until he has Kris pinned under him, and bites his neck until he’s all pliant and open.
He licks Kris’ collarbone. “I’m so lucky you’re my mate,” he says.
“Come on, merboy, show me how grateful you are,” Kris teases.
Adam does. He’s grateful the whole night long.
The lunch meeting ends on a happy note, despite the big, big fuck up that occurs when Adam realizes that people actually choose the lobsters from the big tanks around the restaurant so the waiters can bring them freshly cooked to the table.
“No, I don’t mind it at all,” Fuller says to Kris, who’s rubbing Adam’s back while he hiccups. “In fact, I think it’s good that Adam feels so strongly about Animal Rights.”
“Yeah,” Kris agrees amiably, patting the hand Adam clutches on the tablecloth. “It’s a touchy subject for him.”
Adam blows his nose with his napkin.
Masquerade is number one for twenty weeks. Adam is delighted, and he assumes his mate is delighted, too, but Kris is not talking to him since he discovered he was pregnant, so Adam's not really sure.
Really, four fertilized eggs are not too much. His mate is a drama queen.
Fin.
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