Fic - Not Your Momma's Fairytale - Kradam - 1/4
Title: Not Your Momma's Fairytale
Pairings: Kris Allen/Adam Lambert (main), Brad Bell/Adam Lambert
Art Post: Awesome art courtesy of the amazingly talented pandora_gold
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, written for fun.
Warnings: AU, mentions of drug use, violence and mentions of fantasy horror. Also, schmoop.
Author's Notes: Eternal gratitude and love to deannawol and Tacitus, for support, encouragment and beta. Written for kradambigbang and many thanks to the mods and the rest of the Kradam fandom for being awesome.
The only reason Adam goes on the stupid camping trip is because of Keith. Adam may only be sixteen but he's already coming to embrace the fact that he prefers to experience the wilderness through National Geographic and subway posters. Keith, who is totally going to be the love of Adam's life because Adam has never felt like this before, is nearly seventeen and the picture of an All-American-Boy. He's tall, perfect skin, bleached-blond hair and bright blue eyes. He's actually done some modeling for a real (surfer) magazine which Adam might have picked up like a hundred copies of.
Adam might have a thing for him.
The camping trip is targeted towards Adam's entire grade. It's an extra-curricular activity which makes it an easy sell to his parents. Adam brings his permission slip home and hands it straight over. His mom looks at him and checks him for a fever before she signs it. "You'll have to ask your dad to take you shopping for camping gear, hon. I don't think the GI Joe tent is going to cut it for this trip. Mr Campion seems to be really enthusiastic about this."
Adam contemplates the tent (a relic from a well-meaning cousin for Neil's tenth birthday) and agrees reluctantly.
His father is going through a phase of outdoor enthusiasm and he's thrilled when Adam tells him about the camping trip when they grab milkshakes one Saturday. It's the first shared shopping trip that they both enjoy since Adam discovered the make-up counter. (He doesn't actually buy much makeup but Adam dreams.) Adam's dad is cool with his weird son but they still dance around the fact that Adam isn't really the jock/honors student that his dad thought he'd be.
It's still nice to just talk about something that they actually have in common. His dad is thinking about joining an outdoors club, assuming he can find one that isn't full of crazy survivalists. Keith, in one of those sit-com twists that happen entirely too often in Adam's life, turns out to be the son of a friend of a friend. Adam decides not to mention Keith after that; he's known he was gay since fourth grade but there's a difference between knowing and showing and, despite his best intentions, Adam has utterly failed to come out to his parents every year on his birthday.
But he does get confirmation that Keith is going to be going on this camping trip which is awesome and perfect and means that Adam can test his gaydar on him while they're out in the woods. It also means that Adam doesn't have to go far if he crashes and burns and makes a total fool of himself and has to run away to live in a cave somewhere. Why yes, Adam does have self-esteem issues.
In his defense, Adam is sixteen, fat, freckled and closeted. He's in high school with a load of ridiculously hot, tragically straight boys and the only class he doesn't spend wanting to be anywhere else is Music. He doesn't know what he wants to do with his life but he'd really, really like a boyfriend at some point.
The camping trip will be good for him, Adam decides in front of the bathroom mirror on the Thursday evening before they leave. He's not ruling out a sudden conversion to the wonders of nature (Keith could totally convince him with rugged outdoor sex) and Adam has a rocking new belt with clips and hooks on. If the shop had only sold it in silver, Adam would have bought a hundred.
He has a rucksack full of infinitely less awesome but more practical things to keep him from coming back dead. He has some awesome combats and an mp3 player. Adam is going to rock this. His mom drops him off outside the school at unholy a.m. on Friday morning and Adam drags his bags over to the battered school bus and Mr Campion beams at him. "Good morning, Adam."
There is no way that Adam is up to dealing with such a revoltingly cheerful morning person so he grimaces in a vaguely smile-like way and shuffles over to take a seat.
Mr Campion is the Geography teacher and a throwback to some 1950s ideal of what a scout leader should be. Adam doesn't really hate him but he doesn't like him either; Mr Campion's enthusiasm is scarily sincere and he has a way of smiling that makes Adam think of Hannibal Lecter. He spends the whole trip trying to organize a sing a long which Adam would be totally down with if he wasn't the only one with any grasp of pitch or you know, melody.
"Yo, Lambert." Clint, who desperately aspires to be a jock, leans over the back of his seat. He and Adam have a cautious understanding.
"Ask me to sing Grease and I will hurt you." Adam greets him.
It turns out Clint, who knows and admits he can't sing, wants to listen to Adam's mp3 player. Adam can totally approve of his good taste and they listen to Bon Jovi as the bus chugs along the freeway and Mr Campion starts another round of "1000 Bottles of beer on the wall". Keith is sitting sprawled out in the back, legs kicked out as he laughs and Adam thinks that maybe camping won't suck after all.
By Saturday evening, Adam is swearing that every trip he takes after this, he's going to stay in hotels - hotels that have running water, air conditioning and cable tv. Mr Campion's hard-on for all things 1950 turns out to include camping and camping equipment. No torches, no mp3 player, no Gameboys and no cell phones. It's not that Adam's expecting many calls; but what if a bear attacks? Mr Campion spent three hours on Friday night trying to light a fire with sticks as the temperature nosedived and everyone huddled in their sleeping bags and waited to freeze to death. It had taken another half an hour of them promising not to tell before the matches came out.
It's probably the coldest March that Adam's ever experienced. Mr Campion is reminding the . Keith has been hanging out with his fellow jocks and he hasn't even noticed Adam exists. Adam has been bitten by mosquitoes the size of 747s, ripped his jacket on briars and he's covered in mud up to his ass and the lake they're camping by is below freezing cold which means Adam can't get clean.
Adam has never been and stayed dirty so long before and he's really not liking it. His skin itches and no amount of positive thinking - people pay a fortune to have mud baths at spas - is going to change that. He hates camping, hates tramping through the same muddy little forest while Mr. Campion bounds ahead of them with binoculars and cargo pants with the pockets full of raisins. Mr Campion has been eating raisins like there's no tomorrow and Adam does not want to be anywhere near him when they take effect. He does pity Clint, who took the tent beside Mr Campion and hasn't found anyone dumb enough to switch with him.
"Look, boys! A prime example of Photinus pyralis!" Mr Campion is pointing excitedly at what looks like ...a bug. Adam is unenthused. "They're not fluorescent in the daylight of course. Tonight we'll try and catch some! I brought enough jam jars for everyone."
Adam wonders if this is actually a hidden camera show.
"Hey, hey, Lambert," Adam glances over his shoulder and nearly trips over his feet. It's Keith, talking to him and this is the closest Adam's been to him since this lousy trip started. "Listen, we're thinking of having a little fun tonight. You in?"
There's only one answer to that. "Sure!"
'Fun' in this case turns out not to mean 'group orgy' which is disappointing, but it does mean 'weed' which is cool. Adam's never smoked anything stronger than his uncle's Turkish cigarettes before but it's not like he's going to say no.
Mr Campion has actually brought jam jars, huge airtight beakers straight out of the 50s, but it's cool because they can just wander into the trees with the stupid jars and Keith's buddy Frank is already rolling some rotten-brown colored leaves into a joint. Getting stoned turns out to be really easy; Adam doesn't even choke on the smoke the way Clint does.
It feels amazing, like Adam's blowing out all the tension and the misery out with the smoke. The whole nervous atmosphere just evaporates as they pass the joint around. Frank drops it and Keith snorts and calls him an asshole. Frank just flips him off which is weird 'cause Frank's the kind of guy that even the ex-Marine gym teacher doesn't want to piss off. Weed is awesome.
Adam starts feeling pretty hazy after the second puff, the forest starts looking pretty neat after the third and Clint starts giggling like a pre-schooler after the fourth. The bright dancing lights start after the sixth.
Huh, Adam thinks, Isn't it supposed to be LSD that makes you trip? It's a really weird feeling; Adam knows that something's gone wrong and that he should definitely be worried. He knows that. He just can't actually manage to worry. He thinks that someone should mention this in the PSAs about drugs. Then the lights get brighter and Adam stops trying to think at all.
The sun is shining when Adam wakes up with his first ever hangover. The other guys are scattered around the clearing and he can hear Mr Campion shouting. Adam is too wrapped up in his headache to be able to process details but he manages to grab his stuff and shuffle back to his tent on autopilot. Mr Campion has lost it completely. He's cursing up a storm and there are a bunch of park rangers and the bus is waiting.
Taking down the tents actually turns out to be harder than pitching them was. Adam manages to get his down and stuffed into the bag it came by judicious amounts of sitting on it. He spends the whole trip back completely focused on not throwing up. Keith lasts about three miles before he's spewing out the back window and, just ewww. Adam is willing to forgive a lot for a modern Greek God but high-speed projectile vomiting is a deal breaker. Adam moves up to sit in front row.
Adam's head hurts, just thinking about food makes his stomach cramp and he has to focus on breathing as Keith throws up everything he's eaten for the last week. There's outraged honking from whatever poor asshole was unfortunate enough to be driving behind him. Adam's mp3 player isn't working, he's really hoping that it's just the batteries but given that he had found it in a swampy puddle when he was packing, Adam's not really expecting a happy ending.
Musing darkly on how much camping sucked and trying to remember more than the vague impressions of bright glowing lights takes up the rest of the trip. There's no sing-along which might be enough to convince Adam that there is a god. Mr Campion sends them all straight home with the dark promise that their parents are going to hear about this. His mom's gone out so Adam lets himself in and shuffles up to his room and crashes out gratefully in his own bed.
Someone's knocking on the door; a furious rat-tat-tat and Adam groans and rolls over. He drags a pillow over his head and waits for Neil or his mom to answer the door. The knocking gets faster until the taps are running together into an angry buzz. Adam lifts the pillow and it takes a second for his sleep-foggy brain to figure out that the tapping isn't the door; it's something in the room.
Adam stumbles out of bed; still half-asleep and hoping to stop the knocking and get back to bed before he wakes up. He nearly trips over his duffel and steps over it, cursing to himself. Then he stops and looks down again. The duffel is twitching sideways across the floor. Adam paws at his eyes and looks down again, the duffel is several inches further across the floor.
He's never, ever doing drugs again.
The duffel bumps into Adam's discarded sneakers and gets stuck. It still vibrates in time with the increasing frequency of the tapping. Adam pokes at the bag with his toe and it stops for a second then the tapping starts in a fresh frenzy that jerks the bag so hard that the seams strain.
"I've gone insane then," Adam says blankly. The bag jumps towards him this time and Adam startles backwards. He thinks about running away but the idea of being chased around his room by his camping bag is just too much for him. He grabs the zipper as it hops again and has to field the jam jar as it erupts out of the bag in a cloud of unwashed clothes. (Seriously, Adam was there for like a day and a half tops. How the fuck did he manage to dirty fifteen socks?)
The jam jar is glowing, which really doesn't help with Adam's growing conviction that he's actually gone insane. There's a glowing ball of light inside, about the size of a tennis ball and Adam's first thought? I thought fireflies didn't glow by day?
The glowing thing is bouncing around the jam jar like Speedy Gonzales and it takes two hands to hold it. Adam's getting jerked across the floor and his hair is in his eyes and he really, really wants to believe this is a dream. The jar is starting to crack around the lid. Adam scrabbles at the lid and pops it open and the light shoots out like Roadrunner dodging one of Wile E Coyote's traps.
It ricochets off the ceiling, zooms sideways and rattles Adam's window. His curtains rattle along the pole as the light zips back across the room to shake the door. Adam is backing towards his bed, wondering a little hysterically if he should be calling a hospital. What's the proper procedure for hallucinations anyway? Should he be calling 911 or elevating his feet or what? Drugs should totally come with a manual.
The light gives up on rattling the door (seriously, what's up with that? It's like the size of a tennis ball and Adam's door is solid pine) and zips back across to hover in front of Adam's face. This close, Adam can see that it isn't actually a globe, it's a fairy.
It's a boy fairy. He's like five inches tall, with scruffy brown hair, the sort of golden tan that Adam would sell his brother to have and big brown eyes. He's also not wearing a lot, just sandals and a kinda leaf-loincloth thing, which means Adam gets a good look at just how ripped he is. If he was like twelve times taller, Adam would be in love.
"Where am I? Who are you?" The fairy has a surprising deep voice, with Southern accent.
Adam is still staring a little and the fairy huffs, wings beating harder and glitter sparkles through the air. "You're sparkly."
The really sad thing is that that isn't the stupidest thing Adam's ever said to a hot guy. The fairy flushes, actually goes pink across his stupidly perfect cheekbones. He starts to glow again and zips back across to the door. Adam hurries over as the door starts to rattle in its frame. He gets it open before the fairy can knock it down (and it's really kinda terrifying that it looks like he might be able to do that).
The fairy shoots down the stairs and through the door into the backyard. Adam follows him, a lot slower because he's still hungover and not exactly well-co-ordinated. He's expecting that the fairy will be long gone by the time he makes it to the back door. Instead the fairy is hovering just on the edge of the patio, about six inches from the ground. It's hard to tell but Adam thinks he's staring at the orange tree.
Before Adam can think of anything to say (and let's face it, coming up with something appropriate to say to the fairy who just escaped a jam jar and your dirty socks is going to take a while), he spots movement in the overgrown ivy that ate the fence between his backyard and Ms Rosen's. It's Tiddles, Ms Rosen's fat tabby tomcat and he's doing the weird lashing thing with his tail that cats do just before they pounce.
Adam doesn't exactly know the fairy or exactly how he wound up in Adam's jam jar but he's feeling responsible and Tiddles is like, evil in feline form. His plan to snatch the fairy out of harm's way is well-intentioned but it completely fails to take into account a) Adam's hang-over, b) Adam's nearly complete lack of co-ordination and c) the fairy is fast. Adam trips and crashes into the ivy and the fairy zips up into the leaves. Tiddles shoots back across the ivy fence, so it isn't a total loss even if Adam has destroyed all hope of looking like anything but a complete dork in front of his fairy.
"Are you okay?" The fairy flutters down to hover in front of Adam's face.
"Peachy," Adam growls, pushing himself upright. "Don't I look fine?"
The fairy tips his head and gives Adam a considering once-over that makes Adam itchy with the awareness that his T-shirt is rank, his sweatpants are hanging low enough that his belly is bulging out a little over the waistband and his hair and skin are grubby and greasy. He looks (and feels) disgusting.
"You want to come back inside?" Adam asks hopefully. He really doesn't want to get caught talking to a fairy in the backyard. Best case scenario is Neil and a lifetime of 'Disney extra' jokes, Worst case is his grandma and the not-funny 'fairy' jokes. Adam shudders.
The fairy looks around, rising higher and darting over to inspect the tree, the overgrown flower beds and up to peek over the fence. Adam waits until the fairy flies back to hover beside him then opens the back door for him. The fairy ventures into the kitchen, skimming over the hob and lingering by the toaster before going to investigate behind the fridge. Adam's mom has been planning to clean back there since Adam was in middle school so Adam isn't surprised or anything when he shoots back out looking traumatized. He looks around at the radio, poking at the buttons until the radio hisses to life on dead air and the fairy zips backwards, looking startled.
"That-what's that?" He has a really nice voice, low without being stupidly deep or raspy with just a hint of a Southern drawl. He flits around a little and Adam has to curl his hands into fists to keep from trying to grab him again. "Is that a goblin trap? What sort of a place is this?"
"It's my house," Adam says carefully. "Well, technically it's my mom's house but I live here too."
"Where is this?"
"San Diego." Adam says. "California."
"What? Where's California? Who's land is this? Who rules here? I've never heard of 'California'. Is this a goblin trap? Where are my family? Where's Katy? Why did you bring me here?"
"I didn't mean to!" Adam flails a little. "I don't remember bringing you here."
"Well you did!" The fairy doesn't sound angry exactly, more frustrated and scared. "You trapped me in that glass cage and you wouldn't let me out and you wouldn't listen when I asked you to let me go! You wouldn't let me out and it's been more than a day and my family-"
Adam's gut drops into his sneakers as the fairy chokes up on the word 'family'. The glow is dimming and the fairy drops to sit on the kitchen table and buries his face in his hands. "Okay, okay, just hang on. We're doing this all wrong."
The fairy looks confused, head tipped back so he can stare up at Adam and Adam holds out his hand. "Hi, I'm Adam Lambert."
There's a pause as the fairy looks at Adam's hand then at his own. "I'm Kris, Kris Allen and ummmm..." He manages to get his hand around Adam's index finger and shakes. "It's nice to meet you?"
"You too," Adam says honestly. "Look, I'm really sorry about this. There were drugs, I was confused. Actually, I honestly don't remember what happened last night. I remember like, lights and music which is weird because it's supposed to be LSD that makes you trip, I'm like 99% certain?"
"That was..." Kris hesitates and rubs at his eyes. "That was my family. There was this weird smoke. Katy thought it was a Goblin trap. Everyone was flying around. Then everything got really hazy and um, I fell asleep."
"So your whole family was there?" Adam starts the coffee machine and tries really hard to remember through the fog of weed-induced amnesia. He has the horrible feeling that he might have been giggling.
"Yeah," Kris draws up his knees, his sparkle down to a dull glow that makes him look even smaller. "We were on vacation. Somewhere private and quiet."
"So you don't live in those woods?"
"No," Kris shakes his head. "We were traveling for a day or two before we got there."
"A day or two." Adam is getting a really bad feeling here. "Where are you from?"
Kris sounds Southern, that narrows it down to like half the country and Adam's already thinking gas prices and wondering if his mom's going to require a kidney as collateral. He's probably going to be broke for the rest of the year but Kris has managed to cram a lot of cute into his tiny and Adam did kidnap him.
"Ummm..." Kris says, curling up a little tighter.
"...seriously? Please, please tell me this is some sort of fairy fucked-up humor!"
"I know where I live." Kris snaps, before curling gossamer wings around himself and admitting to his knees, "I just don't know where it is for humans."
"Oh fuck me." Adam taps the coffee machine, he is totally not up to dealing with this without epic levels of caffeine. "You don't have any idea where you live?"
"I know where I live," Kris insists. "I just don't know how to get there."
"Well, where do you live?"
"Alfarhame." Kris says like it's the most normal thing in the world.
Adam wonders if his mom would notice if he broke into the liquor cabinet. Coffee is not nearly strong enough to help him cope with this. "And Alf-er-ham is where, exactly?"
"The heart of the Summerlands." Kris waves a hand, wings fanning out. "It's warm, there's the Forest, the Lake and the Mountains."
"....maybe...what if I got you back to the woods? The place from last night?"
Kris curls in on himself again and shakes his head, Adam pours himself a cup of coffee to buy himself time to think. "Why not? I mean, your family have got to be going nuts by now. It'll take us a few hours but-"
"They won't be looking." Kris says quietly.
Adam snaps his mouth shut and sits down, chin on his arms. This close Kris looks even tinier and completely miserable. Adam chews his lip and feels incredibly awkward. Kris wipes his eyes on the edge of his wings and swallows a few times. "When they couldn't find me by sunrise, they'll assume that it was a Goblin attack. Katy will take them home. They're probably at home by now."
"They're just going to abandon you?" Adam stares at the tiny adorable fairy and honestly cannot wrap his mind around it. If he had a Kris, well, he wouldn't lose his Kris but if Kris went missing, Adam would take the state apart to find him.
"It's not safe." Kris says simply. "We've got- I have a kid brother. My mom's been ill and it wouldn't be safe for them to stay there if there are Goblins."
Adam still doesn't get it but Kris' eyes are wet and Adam is a little thoughtless at times but he's not an asshole. He sits back and pretends not to notice as Kris wipes his eyes on his wings again. "So, ...breakfast?"
He looks around the kitchen. "What do fairies eat anyway?"
The answer, it turns out, is "a lot". Adam watches Kris eat a sesame-seed bagel with sausage and cream cheese in horrified fascination. Kris proceeds to eat two apples and drink a glass of milk that's bigger than he is before flopping down to sprawl out on the table with a happy smile. Kris has a really contagious smile and Adam grins as he stacks everything in the dishwasher.
"I'm afraid to ask where you're putting all that." Adam comments dryly. Kris rolls his head and pats his belly with a satisfied groan. He's adorable and Adam really wishes he had a camera. "How are you so tiny if you eat like twice what I do?"
Kris launches into a long, rambling explanation that boils down to "I haven't eaten since yesterday." Adam breathes a sigh of relief; if Kris eats that much food a day, then keeping him secret shouldn't be a problem. His mom won't notice a little extra food but hiding someone who's eating more than Neil is just not possible.
That Adam is going to keep Kris a secret isn't in question; Kris turns out to be totally on board with this which is a bonus but Adam's not thinking about why he wants Kris to stay a secret. Instead he turns his attention to finishing off the last of his coffee and teasing Kris about the faint bulge of his belly.
By the time Adam's mom gets home, they've got the beginnings of an understanding. Kris is pretty quiet, very curious and has already tidied Adam's room twice. Adam has discovered that Kris is a sucker for chocolate and ice-cream (even if Adam should put down a tea towel before letting him loose on a carton of Hagen Daz).
His mom doesn't see Kris and she's so pleased Adam's room is tidy that she orders in pizza. Adam manages to smuggle Kris two slices and by the time his mom orders him to bed, Kris is too stuffed to fly properly, looping lazily up the stairs ahead of him. Adam has to bite his lips to hide the smile.
He's exhausted himself, too tired to think of where Kris is going to sleep as he washes his teeth and stumbles over to the bed. With the overhead light off, the only light is Kris' glow and it's a warm, soft light, like a candle. Shadows jump as Kris moves around, Adam hears some splashing from the direction of the glass of water on his dresser and Kris' glow dims. Adam snuggles into his pillow and the last thing he hears is Kris' soft "Good night."
Adam wakes up late the next morning, thankfully without the hangover. He rolls over and looks around his suspiciously tidy room. There's no sign of Kris and Adam sits bolt upright. The window is open and he can hear his mom singing downstairs. He's not sure if he imagined Kris or if Kris left early. It's stupid to feel hurt, Adam tells himself as he stares at the window and fiercely resists the urge to go looking for Kris. He pretty much kidnapped Kris, got him abandoned by his family and-
And there's a glow, almost undetectable in the sunlight, coming from the top drawer of Adam's dresser.
"Kris?" Adam says hesitantly.
Kris' head pops out of the drawer and he yawns, wings fanning out and beating lazily as he stretches. Adam can hear his joints popping and he smiles wide and ridiculous with relief. "Good morning, sleepyhead."
Kris mumbles something that's probably rude, words slurred into incomprehensible Southern drawl. Adam laughs and throws back his covers. Kris pouts but it breaks into an answering smile despite his best efforts. He flies out of the drawer and it's only then that Adam realizes that Kris must have slept there last night. Oh god. "Kris? Tell me you didn't sleep in there last night?"
"Um, yeah?" Kris flutters around his shoulder and rubs at his eyes. "I was tired."
"Umm..."
"It was really convenient," Kris continues, sounding genuinely enthusiastic. "Actually, would you mind if I slept there like full time?"
"Ah...no? That's cool." Adam says faintly. "But, you know, you should have your own bed. Clothes, bed-clothes. Like sheets and stuff. We can hit up Goodwill this afternoon. Um, you wanna maybe grab a towel from the press in the meantime?"
"Sure. And thanks!" Kris zips out of the room and Adam hears rummaging around from the general direction of the press. He bolts across the room and opens the drawer, frantically emptying the whole thing into the drawer below; all his underwear, two wrinkled copies of Esquire and the packet of condoms he bought in a fit of optimism on his birthday.
He's just finished stuffing the last of his boxers (the really comfortable ones that Neil dyed pink) in when Kris zooms back in, trailing a bath towel that's like bigger than Adam; he looks like the world's fluffiest, cuddliest ghost. He's managed to wrap himself in the towel so he flies straight into Adam's shoulder and Adam has to catch him and the towel.
It takes like five minutes to untangle Kris from the towel because it turns out that Kris is ticklish. Adam, as a card-carrying big brother, can't be expected to overlook such an obvious weakness. Kris has a great laugh, warm and full-bodied and totally not self-conscious He manages to dodge Adam's fingers and dives down Adam's T-shirt, a little giggling lump near Adam's heart.
He's warm and soft and trusting and Adam can't keep the sappy smile off his face. Kris is really kind of awesome. Adam squashes the floaty happy feeling and tries not to think beyond this moment. This, right here, is good. That's all he can ask for.
They don't make it to Goodwill until Wednesday and even then, they don't buy sheets. Kris has managed to fit the entire bath towel into the drawer and he's made himself a weird kinda nest and he burrows in and the towel is kinda old so his glow shines through, casting patterns on the walls and giving Adam's David Bowie poster this awesome overlay that just looks fierce.
Kris might be the easiest person in the world to share a room with; he's small, quiet and laid back about just about everything. Adam finds himself talking to Kris about random shit and it turns out that Kris can sing. Fairies apparently don't get FM, because Kris spends Monday and Tuesday orbiting Adam's shitty old radio. The sound is for shit but Adam shows him how to tune it and Kris' expression when he realities that there's more stations is something beautiful that Adam is going to treasure for the rest of his life.
They do still need to make the trip to Goodwill though, just not for sheets. Kris needs clothes and it turns out that the whole leaf-cloth thing does actually wither and Kris can't replace it because he can't find any weeds (sorry, flowers) that he knows the spell for. Adam spends Tuesday night explaining modern fashion. Kris throws a cushion that's three times his size at Adam when he tries in all seriousness to explain sewing.
Adam's mom has a old sewing kit that she doesn't really use and Adam gets it out and tries not to laugh when Kris picks up a needle. He can fit his thumb through the eye and he asks Adam a lot of questions which leads to Adam emptying out his closet, showing off his favorite well-worn jeans and glittery t-shirts and breaking out his secret stash of Vogues. (Why yes, Adam embraces the stereotype. In secret but still, embracing.)
"Pants go down to the ankle, yeah?" Kris checks, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip.
"Yeah and see, here in this one..." Adam rifles through the magazines. Kris isn't the fashion-obsessive that Adam is but he's an awesome listener. He asks all the right questions and makes some really good suggestions and is just there in a way most people aren't when Adam starts to talk about his ideas.
It isn't until the next morning that Adam decides that they need to go to Goodwill. Or possibly Home Depot, for a fly-swatter.
He wakes up to find his favorite pair of jeans neatly folded over his desk chair, minus the bottom six inches of the right leg. It's been neatly cut away, in a carefully straight line just below the knee. There are a few scattered scraps of denim across the top of the dresser.
Adam is still frozen in horror when Kris flies in from the bathroom. He's wearing jeans - baggy, too long for him and being held up with a safety pin and the denim looks familiar. Kris looks good in jeans but the desecration of his favorite jeans is still too fresh for Adam to appreciate. Adam doesn't have so many clothes that flatter him that he can afford to lose those jeans.
When he explains this to Kris, Kris tips his head to one side like a particularly adorable puppy and says "But you don't need clothes to look good. You always look good."
There's actually nothing Adam can say to argue with that.
Kris slots himself into Adam's life so easily that by the time Adam goes back to school the next week, he's actually forgotten what it was like without him. High school is still high school and Adam's still floundering like the worst kind of ugly duckling. It gets easier to deal with the casual cruelty of his peers with Kris buzzing around the ceilings. He stays out of sight, hiding in Adam's locker if it's a gloomy day and he pays attention. Adam starts scrupulously avoiding the librarian when she comes looking for missing books. Kris is a good guy and he always puts them back when he's done. Adam's still not explaining that to her.
Catching Kris up on his various subjects proves to be a good reviewing tool and Adam does pretty well in tests. He learns a lot about Kris in turn; Kris can dim his glow so he's nearly invisible, he's actually about as strong as Adam but a lot faster and Kris can sing. He starts by singing along with the radio, first when he thinks Adam isn't listening then more confidently over time.
He still sleeps in the bath-towel, but he's gotten good at sewing which is just as well, since the only clothes his size that Adam can afford are old Kentm outfits from Goodwill and yard sales. He doesn't actually need to shave, which is good because Adam can't think of any way to McGuyver a normal-sized razor into something that Kris could use without cutting his head off. His hair doesn't actually seem to grow that much, staying scruffy and just a little too long.
They actually shower together. Sorta. Kinda. In an non-creepy way. Adam offered to run the shower for him when he wanted and they'd tried that for a few days before Adam's mom came in to switch it off. Kris, only half-clean, had to hide behind a loofah and was still blushing the next day. So he just uses the shower at the same time, staying on the soap dish where Adam keeps his shower gel. His wings are almost a cloak when they're wet, dark opaque gold hanging down past Kris' knees. Adam doesn't look and he doesn't think Kris would.
The singing starts as a distraction from the fact that Kris is right there and naked and if he turns around then he'll see Adam naked and that's just terrifying. So Adam sings, random snatches of song to distract himself. Kris joins in when Adam sings Micheal Jackson's 'Beat It' and the impromptu duet becomes a habit and the best thing in a lot of Adam's days.
In the summer, Adam's dad makes him get a job in Starbucks. "You need to be earning money, son. You need to be contributing to the household."
Adam doesn't mind his job; he's still spotty and fat and closeted but having Kris to talk to makes dealing with other people easier. It's amazing how much easier it is to be himself now that he has someone who knows him and likes him for being himself.
"Do I need to contribute?" Kris asks after Adam's grumbled about his dad and reluctantly started work on his CV.
"No, no," Adam is reading one of those how-to books about how he should be 'optimizing' his CV and getting more confused by the second. "It's not like you could get a job. It's just that it's not fair to Mom, you know? I can't keep just expecting her to pay for everything. It's just, part of growing up I guess."
"Part of growing up," Kris says thoughtfully and Adam is so wrapped up in the book that he doesn't pay as much attention as he should to the expression on Kris' face.
They've agreed that Kris won't come with Adam for his first shift. Adam's going to have a lot to take in and Kris would really just be a distraction. It's the good choice, the mature choice and Adam starts regretting it before they give him an apron. He gets through the first shift and grabs the bus home.
His mom is waiting to congratulate him and has cooked him dinner and everything. It's cool and they get a chance to actually talk which is even cooler. Adam's mom is cool and he loves her to pieces but they've both been very busy lately and Kris has been eating up most of Adam's spare time.
"You know I love you," she says which makes Adam freeze.
"Yeah, of course!"
"You know that I'll love you no matter what, right?"
"Yeah," Adam says more hesitantly.
"And you know that you can tell me anything, right?" His mom presses, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
"Yeah," Adam looks down and there's an uncomfortable stretch of time before his mom squeezes his hand again and lets go. Adam feels like she's still waiting for something and he opens his mouth. "I...mom, I'm gay."
His mom smiles and reaches out to hug him tightly. "Thank you for telling me, sweetheart. I love you."
"This is starting to feel like an episode of Sally or something." Adam jokes, hugging her back. It's not like he ever thought his mom would hate him for being gay or anything, he just ...didn't want to test that belief.
They don't really talk much after that and Adam retreats to his room, making a joke about needing his sleep before another day in the coffee mines and he bounces into his room, still relieved and embarrassed and eager to talk it all out with Kris.
But Kris isn't there.
He isn't in his drawer, the Narnia book he's been reading is still on top of the dresser and the room is empty. Adam's cheerful mood evaporates. He checks everywhere; under the bed, under the dresser and there's no sign of Kris. Adam sits on his bed and tries really hard not to freak out.
Just as he starts to lose his cool completely, there's a tapping at the window and he looks up to see the small globe of light wavering on the windowsill. He hurries over and throws open the sash so Kris can get in. Kris skims the edge of the window and swoops straight for the bed, landing with a bounce.
"Where have you been?" Adam demands, wincing at the shrill tone. Anger is flooding in; he's been worried sick and seriously, Kris couldn't have left a note?
Kris' glow dims enough that Adam can make him out and, shit, is that blood? Adam dives across the room to scoop Kris up. It still comes as a shock to realize how light Kris is; how tiny he is. Adam cradles him against his chest, feeling Kris' panting and racing pulse. "Fuck, shit, Kris! What happened to you? Where does it hurt? Fuck, let me grab the first aid kit."
Kris wraps his hand around Adam's thumb and squeezes. "Man, chill, I'm fine."
"The fuck you are." Adam growls. There's blood clotting along the ruptured lines of his wings, what looks like it's going to be a wicked black eye and he has his free hand tucked against his side. Adam tucks Kris into his pajama pocket and sneaks downstairs to grab ice and band-aids. He patches Kris up on his desk, under the light of his lamp. This close, Adam can see the way the golden glitter of Kris' skin shines and the delicate strands of light that connect his wings to the smooth expanse of his back.
The wings are the worst, Adam dabs a ball of cotton wool soaked with anti-septic along the worst of it. Kris whimpers and Adam wants to just cuddle him and hug him and keep him safe forever. He chops slivers off the ice and wraps it up in some tissue as a kind of icepack and makes Kris hold it against his eye. There's a load of tiny scrapes and cuts all over Kris's arms and legs. Adam spends like an hour disinfecting and cleaning and Kris winds up looking like the Band-Aid Mummy but at least Adam's fairly sure he's not going to die of infection.
"Okay," Adam says at last, thumb rubbing absently at Kris' good arm. "Now, what the fuck happened to you?"
"I had to look a little farther than I thought I would," Kris says like that's some kind of answer.
"Look for what? Look where?" Adam is starting to get pissy. "You couldn't wait for me to get home before you went gallivanting off around the state?"
"No," Kris says seriously. "I couldn't. I had to do it."
"Why? What the hell were you doing that you had to do it alone?"
"Have to contribute," Kris parrots, matching Adam's inflection from weeks ago with an eerie accuracy. He waves a hand towards the bed. "Have to pay my way."
"Oh sweetheart," Adam says even before he looks at the bed because Kris doesn't need to pay, will never need to pay to be welcome in Adam's life. "You didn't have to-holy shit"
There's a roll of notes where Kris landed on the bed. Adam must have missed it. He was more worried by the fact that Kris was bleeding and couldn't fly. It's more money than Adam's ever seen in one place before and he turns to stare at Kris. "Oh my god, Kris, where did you get that? Did you hold up a bank or something? Or, like, mug someone? What the hell?"
"Hold up a bank?" Kris looks confused. "No, I just found a Leprechaun's hoard."
"A Leprechaun?" Adam turns back to Kris, expecting to see that mischievous smile that says Kris is fucking with him but Kris just blinks up at him, innocent and sleepy. He tosses the roll of notes into Kris' drawer and sits back down in front of Kris. "Okay, this I gotta hear."
"It wasn't a big deal," Kris says. Adam disagrees even when it turns out that Leprechauns aren't quite the greedy vicious little bastards that legends claim they are. "It's like squirrels, you know? Or magpies, maybe. They like collecting gold and once they have a whole pot, they hide it. Usually they bury it but sometimes they hide it under trees or bushes. Most Leprechauns have like, really bad memories so they forget where they hid their pot and if you know where to look, you can find one pretty easily."
"Easily?" Adam carries Kris over to the bed and puts him on the spare pillow before switching off the lights and getting into bed. "So you look like someone tried to put you through a blender because?"
"Um, one of the bushes that Leprechauns like to hide their pots in are briars." Kris shrugs, then winces and mumbles a little. Adam tucks a corner of blanket over him. "I kinda forgot that."
"I thought you said Leprechauns hoarded gold, though?" Adam says as he settles down.
"They do." Kris says around a huge yawn. It's kinda terrifying that he can open his mouth that wide, actually.
"So how'd you turn it into money? I mean, paper money?"
"Oh, magic." Kris says, breathing already evening out.
"Yeah, magic." Adam gripes fondly. "Shoulda seen that one coming."
In the morning, they have an argument about the money. Well, a heated debate about the money because Adam thinks Kris should hang onto it, just in case and Kris thinks Adam should have it and share it with his mom. They wind up compromising over the course of the week; Kris gives Adam fifty bucks which Adam claims as tips from work and no-one seems to notice.
Kris frets that he's not giving enough so Adam, on one of his days off, actually sits down and works out how much feeding, cleaning and clothing Kris is costing the Lambert family.
"Ten point two cents a day." Adam says finally. Kris blinks at him and flies over carefully; his wings are a lot slower to heal than the rest of him and he's been stuck in Adam's room for days. "That's how much it costs to keep you, so," he scribbles down a few figures to check, "You're paid up for the next...five years."
"Oh." Kris goes back to the computer. (Watching him type is hilarious because he has to hop across the keyboard and stamp on keys.) "That's cool."
One year after Adam accidentally kidnapped Kris, Kris steals a beer from the fridge and disappears for the night. Adam worries and stays up half the night just in case Kris isn't coming back. When he wakes up, still in his desk chair and with a cramp in his neck, Kris is crashed out on his pillow, snoring gustily. Adam watches him for a bit, glad despite himself that Kris is still here.
High school is racing into the final stretch and Adam spends a month debating whether or not he wants to go to college. His parents think he should; Adam thinks the idea of a less-supervised, drunker high school sounds like the ninth circle of hell. Neil wants to be a journalist so Neil thinks college is awesome. Adam just wants to sing, and get laid and he doesn't really need college for that.
He asks Kris about it and Kris flutters over to sit cross-legged on his knee. Adam lays the whole thing out like Kris hasn't been there for just about every second and flops back onto the bed. Kris fans his wings out to keep his balance and thinks for few minutes. (Which is why Adam is talking to Kris; his parents and Neil don't think about what Adam's saying any more, just repeating back the same points until Adam is so frustrated he wants to scream.)
"Do you have to go to college right out of high school?" Kris asks eventually.
"Most people do," Adam says gloomily.
"No-one, like, takes a year out or something?" Kris continues, chin in hands. "I mean, would it be possible for you to, I don't know, go audition for the plays with the songs-"
"Musicals," Adam interjects.
"-yeah, them, for a year and then if that's not working, maybe go to college to study music?" Kris finishes. "So you can figure out where to go from there?"
Adam sits up to stare at him. "You're a genius!"
Kris blushes and gives him that shy, radiant smile that Adam has like this Pavlovian response to because he scoops Kris up for a hug.
It takes most of his last year in school to talk his parents around to Kris' point of view but eventually, they agree and Adam starts to look for apartments in LA and making lists of what he needs and will have to bring and what can just stay here at his mom's until he has time to collect it. His mom buys him a car, one of the older Fords that looks kinda like a tank but it reliable and not too much of a gas-guzzler.
The last three months of high school are hectic, it kinda figures that just as Adam approaches a point at which he'll never have to see his peers again, everyone wants to be his friend and cry about how awful it is that high school is ending. Adam is as nice and non-committal as he can be and crams in as many extra shifts in Starbucks as he can. Kris hangs out with him pretty much all the time now even at work which is cool but it means that Adam has almost no chance to actually speak to him.
"You're coming with me," Adam asks the night before graduation, pretending a confidence that he doesn't feel, "Right?"
There's rustling from Kris' drawer and the glow brightens a little as Kris sticks his head out. Kris is glowing bright than he normally does, shoulders a little hunched and his drawl is really, really pronounced. Adam thinks for the millionth time that Kris is adorable when he's shy. "If you want me to."
"I am not dignifying that with a response," Adam says, rolling over to look at Kris.
"Okay," Kris smiles. "Sure. I'll come."
Adam graduates and it's a sob-fest and everyone's hugging and promising to stay in touch and there's like a billion photos with everyone that he's ever met in high school. There's this awkward moment where Keith hugs him and Adam gets reminded in a big rush about his crush on the guy and even though it's been like two years and Adam is so over him, there's something cool in being hugged tight and hearing Keith's voice in his ear.
Two weeks later, Adam packs his stuff into the back of his car and puts the lease on his new apartment into the glove box. He hugs his mom and his brother and there might be some tears in there. He starts the car and waves goodbye. Two miles down the road, he has to pull over for a second so he can wipe his eyes and sniffle a little.
Kris pops out of the boxes, the one marked with "Adam's ???" and settles on Adam's shoulder, hugging his neck. He doesn't say anything and Adam is grateful; there is no way he is capable of talking right now. Kris stays hugging Adam's neck for most of the first day. Adam's mom booked him a motel about halfway and made him promise to use it. They arrive fairly early, in time to grab a pizza from the Domino's across the street.
The room is a dingy beige with accents in grubby white. The bed is hard and smells of bleach and cigarette smoke. He brings in his suitcase, what's left of the six pack of Coke he started with that morning and Kris. Kris brings the box he started in. It's a shoebox which Adam doesn't recognize and Kris drops it on the bed and it bounces.
"What's that?" Adam says after they've eaten every scrap of the pizza and Kris is trying to balance a can of coke so he can drink out of it without drowning in it. "I don't remember packing that."
"You didn't." Kris says absently.
"But I packed all of your stuff," Adam thinks back and yeah, all of Kris' worldly possessions are bundled up in his bath towel in Adam's 'Bedroom' box.
"It's not my stuff."
"It's not?" Adam feels sticky and slow. His back and his ass ache with the stress of driving for so long.
"It's yours," Kris manages to pour a little Coke out and gulps it down.
"Seriously?" Adam rolls over to open the box. He's a little clumsy, still wrapped up in trying to figure out what the hell he packed in a shoe-box. "Oh my god..."
There's a pair of black leather boots, knee-high and with polished steel buckles. Adam is totally and immediately in love. They're brand new, still smooth and perfect and smelling of polish and god, so perfect. Adam takes them out and stares and stares. Kris is laughing, soft and fond and Adam is so not paying attention to him because Adam has kick-ass boots.
It's a couple of minutes, during which time Adam may or may not be trying out to figure out how to sleep with his new boots, before Adam realizes that there's more stuff in the box.
"It's not much," Kris says honestly but Adam is not paying any attention to him because holy shit, Kris got him make-up!
Not a lot of make-up and it's the teeny-girl starter kits but it's bright and there's like six different eye shadows, an eyeliner pencil and some other stuff. There's nail polish in like blue and purple and black. Adam actually tears up a little when he finds the small vial of glitter at the very bottom of the box.
"You're going to LA to be yourself," Kris says from where he's sitting on his Coke can. "I figured I'd help."
"Fairy magic does make-up and kickass boots?" Adam laughs, cradling his boots and his make-up and feeling hope past the whole knee-knocking terror that has been shivering through the back of his mind.
"On special occasions." Kris smiles, flitting off the Coke can to land on the spare pillow.
Adam goes to sleep that night with a smile on his face. LA is going to be awesome.
Two years after that, LA sucks. Adam's been working every job he can just to pay the bills. His apartment's shit, his social life consists of whoever's in the show he's currently doing and he's hungry all the time. If Kris wasn't busting his ass to keep the apartment clean, Adam probably would be dead of like, typhus or something horrible.
He's tired all the time, stumbling through everything that isn't work and his voice rasps and squeaks for hours after each show. The worst part of all, is that Adam is afraid it's never going to get better than this. He doesn't have time to even dream of a demo tape, most auditions clash with his rehearsals and in LA, every.one is aware that every day, every second gets you closer to being 'old', 'past it' and 'never-made it'.
Adam learns a lot about being 'out' in LA. He learns that no matter what compromises he makes, there's a dickhead out there who'll scream 'Faggot' and 'Sodomite' just because Adam exists. He starts to push back, stops apologizing, stops listening to their crap and starts trying to make himself happy.
If he hadn't had Kris, Adam thinks he'd have gone back to San Diego and stayed there after the first Thanksgiving. Kris is like the house-fairy; he keeps the apartment from turning into a sewer, makes sure there's food (and god bless the internet and online grocery shopping). He sings for Adam in the shower when Adam's voice is too fucked out to even rasp along.
It's spring, Adam's latest show wraps at last and after spending a week crashed out his shitty couch catching up on the months of sleep he's missing by this point. He goes out after that; has to because Kris is itching to go somewhere that isn't concrete and plastic and exhaust fumes and clogged drains. Adam's still slow and stupid with the depression that follows the high of closing night. He's wrapped up in thinking about money; how much they need, how much he wishes they had and how much they actually have. Three different numbers and Adam just wants to call it quits, wants to say fuck it and go home and hug his mom and just stay on the couch for like a year.
It's godawful early, the sun a light haze on the horizon and there's this little park with actual honest-to-god palm trees and some withered wisps of grass. Adam sits on the bench which is all graffiti and might have actual bullet holes in it. He sits down, sighs and tips his head back. It's as cool as LA really gets; crisp edges to the breeze and the concrete is cool under his sneakers. The air isn't entirely fresh but it's clearer and there's space to breathe deep and Adam feels a little of the tension easing as his shoulders relax.
"You're not allowed to fall asleep," Kris' voice comes from just in front of him and Adam opens his eyes. There's a haze of golden glitter and Adam's eyes cross, trying to focus on him. "No way I'm hauling you home."
"I wish you would," Adam admits, more honest than he means to be.
Kris lands on his chest and looks up at him, face all scrunched up in a worried expression. "Hey, you know things are getting better, right?"
"Are they?"
"Yeah," Kris says seriously. "They are. You've got the Wicked audition next week and you're going to get it and that's a big deal. It'll really help your career."
"You cannot act like I'm just going to get that part," Adam is smiling despite himself because Kris (who's grown like a quarter of an inch over the last four years) is standing on the lapel of Adam's denim jacket like a miniature cheerleader with his arms folded and his wings floating in the breeze.
"You deserve it." Kris says firmly. "You're going to get this and you're going to be awesome."
Adam's smile spreads across his face and he brings up an arm to cuddle Kris. "You're biased."
"I have working ears, I have heard you sing." Kris says into Adam's shirt. "I know you can do this."
Kris is possibly the sweetest guy on the planet but he's a shitty liar and Adam can read him like a book. Kris isn't lying and Adam feels a warm surge of affection in his chest. He's not the dorky San Diego kid he used to be but knowing that Kris believes in him is enough to make him feel like he's king of the world. "Thanks, babe. You're the greatest."
"You know we've got some money, right?" Kris says after they've been sitting like that for a few minutes. "You could go out with Cassidy and Alisan. There's that new club that they've been talking about, yeah?"
"We can't affo-" Adam starts but Kris darts up and presses his hand against Adam's top lip.
"We can. Trust me."
"When you put it like that..." Adam says, garbled around Kris's hand.
He calls Cassidy on the way home and arranges to meet up about nine. Cassidy sounds genuinely thrilled to hear it and gives Adam, like, thirteen different sets of directions and a tip on the dress code; "Pretty and sparkly, sweetheart."
It's a good night, Adam smuggles Kris in under the collar of the new coat Cassidy made from the beat up leather duster Adam found in a thrift store. There's so many sequins and glitter that Kris' sparkling light is invisible. Once they get to the cloakroom, Kris slips away and Adam gets dragged on to the floor by one of Cassidy's friends and yeah, this Adam can totally do.
The club is thrumming with energy, the floor is a seething mass of beautiful sparkling people and the bar is crowded; there's a hot-ass twink of a bartender doing some kind of flair bartending without his shirt on. The music is a physical current, rippling through the crowd in shock waves and it's like the tidal pull. Adam does like three shots in the first minute, all courtesy of some guy in silver lipstick and Egyptian eyeshadow. They're like some kind of neon rainbow and there's more coming because this is LA and some people will do anything to get close to the pretty people.
The realization, which comes about the seventh shot, that Adam is one of the pretty people is a better high than any weed or booze. It's like he's on fire, burning like a real star and there's always someone wanting to dance with him whenever his current partner or partners wear out.
Hours, maybe days later, Adam's singing to Madonna's 'Vogue' when someone fits themselves against his front and grinds back and mmm, yeah. Adam hasn't been a virgin since like a month after he made it to LA and he's had enough hook-ups and casual relationships that he knows what he wants. The crowd bunches up around them and Adam has to work to get his hands forward to curl around the guy's hips. It's a guy, he can tell that for sure, tight ass, narrow hips and just the right size to fit in against Adam. The lights are flashing and it's impossible to see details but the guy rolls them hip-to-hip and Adam's singing chokes off into a groan.
That's his last clear memory; the rest is psychedelic flashes, leather under his palm, mint and Jack in the sort of kiss that curls his toes and the heaving sweaty mass of humanity rolling around them while the music shudders through the air.
Next
Pairings: Kris Allen/Adam Lambert (main), Brad Bell/Adam Lambert
Art Post: Awesome art courtesy of the amazingly talented pandora_gold
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, written for fun.
Warnings: AU, mentions of drug use, violence and mentions of fantasy horror. Also, schmoop.
Author's Notes: Eternal gratitude and love to deannawol and Tacitus, for support, encouragment and beta. Written for kradambigbang and many thanks to the mods and the rest of the Kradam fandom for being awesome.
The only reason Adam goes on the stupid camping trip is because of Keith. Adam may only be sixteen but he's already coming to embrace the fact that he prefers to experience the wilderness through National Geographic and subway posters. Keith, who is totally going to be the love of Adam's life because Adam has never felt like this before, is nearly seventeen and the picture of an All-American-Boy. He's tall, perfect skin, bleached-blond hair and bright blue eyes. He's actually done some modeling for a real (surfer) magazine which Adam might have picked up like a hundred copies of.
Adam might have a thing for him.
The camping trip is targeted towards Adam's entire grade. It's an extra-curricular activity which makes it an easy sell to his parents. Adam brings his permission slip home and hands it straight over. His mom looks at him and checks him for a fever before she signs it. "You'll have to ask your dad to take you shopping for camping gear, hon. I don't think the GI Joe tent is going to cut it for this trip. Mr Campion seems to be really enthusiastic about this."
Adam contemplates the tent (a relic from a well-meaning cousin for Neil's tenth birthday) and agrees reluctantly.
His father is going through a phase of outdoor enthusiasm and he's thrilled when Adam tells him about the camping trip when they grab milkshakes one Saturday. It's the first shared shopping trip that they both enjoy since Adam discovered the make-up counter. (He doesn't actually buy much makeup but Adam dreams.) Adam's dad is cool with his weird son but they still dance around the fact that Adam isn't really the jock/honors student that his dad thought he'd be.
It's still nice to just talk about something that they actually have in common. His dad is thinking about joining an outdoors club, assuming he can find one that isn't full of crazy survivalists. Keith, in one of those sit-com twists that happen entirely too often in Adam's life, turns out to be the son of a friend of a friend. Adam decides not to mention Keith after that; he's known he was gay since fourth grade but there's a difference between knowing and showing and, despite his best intentions, Adam has utterly failed to come out to his parents every year on his birthday.
But he does get confirmation that Keith is going to be going on this camping trip which is awesome and perfect and means that Adam can test his gaydar on him while they're out in the woods. It also means that Adam doesn't have to go far if he crashes and burns and makes a total fool of himself and has to run away to live in a cave somewhere. Why yes, Adam does have self-esteem issues.
In his defense, Adam is sixteen, fat, freckled and closeted. He's in high school with a load of ridiculously hot, tragically straight boys and the only class he doesn't spend wanting to be anywhere else is Music. He doesn't know what he wants to do with his life but he'd really, really like a boyfriend at some point.
The camping trip will be good for him, Adam decides in front of the bathroom mirror on the Thursday evening before they leave. He's not ruling out a sudden conversion to the wonders of nature (Keith could totally convince him with rugged outdoor sex) and Adam has a rocking new belt with clips and hooks on. If the shop had only sold it in silver, Adam would have bought a hundred.
He has a rucksack full of infinitely less awesome but more practical things to keep him from coming back dead. He has some awesome combats and an mp3 player. Adam is going to rock this. His mom drops him off outside the school at unholy a.m. on Friday morning and Adam drags his bags over to the battered school bus and Mr Campion beams at him. "Good morning, Adam."
There is no way that Adam is up to dealing with such a revoltingly cheerful morning person so he grimaces in a vaguely smile-like way and shuffles over to take a seat.
Mr Campion is the Geography teacher and a throwback to some 1950s ideal of what a scout leader should be. Adam doesn't really hate him but he doesn't like him either; Mr Campion's enthusiasm is scarily sincere and he has a way of smiling that makes Adam think of Hannibal Lecter. He spends the whole trip trying to organize a sing a long which Adam would be totally down with if he wasn't the only one with any grasp of pitch or you know, melody.
"Yo, Lambert." Clint, who desperately aspires to be a jock, leans over the back of his seat. He and Adam have a cautious understanding.
"Ask me to sing Grease and I will hurt you." Adam greets him.
It turns out Clint, who knows and admits he can't sing, wants to listen to Adam's mp3 player. Adam can totally approve of his good taste and they listen to Bon Jovi as the bus chugs along the freeway and Mr Campion starts another round of "1000 Bottles of beer on the wall". Keith is sitting sprawled out in the back, legs kicked out as he laughs and Adam thinks that maybe camping won't suck after all.
By Saturday evening, Adam is swearing that every trip he takes after this, he's going to stay in hotels - hotels that have running water, air conditioning and cable tv. Mr Campion's hard-on for all things 1950 turns out to include camping and camping equipment. No torches, no mp3 player, no Gameboys and no cell phones. It's not that Adam's expecting many calls; but what if a bear attacks? Mr Campion spent three hours on Friday night trying to light a fire with sticks as the temperature nosedived and everyone huddled in their sleeping bags and waited to freeze to death. It had taken another half an hour of them promising not to tell before the matches came out.
It's probably the coldest March that Adam's ever experienced. Mr Campion is reminding the . Keith has been hanging out with his fellow jocks and he hasn't even noticed Adam exists. Adam has been bitten by mosquitoes the size of 747s, ripped his jacket on briars and he's covered in mud up to his ass and the lake they're camping by is below freezing cold which means Adam can't get clean.
Adam has never been and stayed dirty so long before and he's really not liking it. His skin itches and no amount of positive thinking - people pay a fortune to have mud baths at spas - is going to change that. He hates camping, hates tramping through the same muddy little forest while Mr. Campion bounds ahead of them with binoculars and cargo pants with the pockets full of raisins. Mr Campion has been eating raisins like there's no tomorrow and Adam does not want to be anywhere near him when they take effect. He does pity Clint, who took the tent beside Mr Campion and hasn't found anyone dumb enough to switch with him.
"Look, boys! A prime example of Photinus pyralis!" Mr Campion is pointing excitedly at what looks like ...a bug. Adam is unenthused. "They're not fluorescent in the daylight of course. Tonight we'll try and catch some! I brought enough jam jars for everyone."
Adam wonders if this is actually a hidden camera show.
"Hey, hey, Lambert," Adam glances over his shoulder and nearly trips over his feet. It's Keith, talking to him and this is the closest Adam's been to him since this lousy trip started. "Listen, we're thinking of having a little fun tonight. You in?"
There's only one answer to that. "Sure!"
'Fun' in this case turns out not to mean 'group orgy' which is disappointing, but it does mean 'weed' which is cool. Adam's never smoked anything stronger than his uncle's Turkish cigarettes before but it's not like he's going to say no.
Mr Campion has actually brought jam jars, huge airtight beakers straight out of the 50s, but it's cool because they can just wander into the trees with the stupid jars and Keith's buddy Frank is already rolling some rotten-brown colored leaves into a joint. Getting stoned turns out to be really easy; Adam doesn't even choke on the smoke the way Clint does.
It feels amazing, like Adam's blowing out all the tension and the misery out with the smoke. The whole nervous atmosphere just evaporates as they pass the joint around. Frank drops it and Keith snorts and calls him an asshole. Frank just flips him off which is weird 'cause Frank's the kind of guy that even the ex-Marine gym teacher doesn't want to piss off. Weed is awesome.
Adam starts feeling pretty hazy after the second puff, the forest starts looking pretty neat after the third and Clint starts giggling like a pre-schooler after the fourth. The bright dancing lights start after the sixth.
Huh, Adam thinks, Isn't it supposed to be LSD that makes you trip? It's a really weird feeling; Adam knows that something's gone wrong and that he should definitely be worried. He knows that. He just can't actually manage to worry. He thinks that someone should mention this in the PSAs about drugs. Then the lights get brighter and Adam stops trying to think at all.
The sun is shining when Adam wakes up with his first ever hangover. The other guys are scattered around the clearing and he can hear Mr Campion shouting. Adam is too wrapped up in his headache to be able to process details but he manages to grab his stuff and shuffle back to his tent on autopilot. Mr Campion has lost it completely. He's cursing up a storm and there are a bunch of park rangers and the bus is waiting.
Taking down the tents actually turns out to be harder than pitching them was. Adam manages to get his down and stuffed into the bag it came by judicious amounts of sitting on it. He spends the whole trip back completely focused on not throwing up. Keith lasts about three miles before he's spewing out the back window and, just ewww. Adam is willing to forgive a lot for a modern Greek God but high-speed projectile vomiting is a deal breaker. Adam moves up to sit in front row.
Adam's head hurts, just thinking about food makes his stomach cramp and he has to focus on breathing as Keith throws up everything he's eaten for the last week. There's outraged honking from whatever poor asshole was unfortunate enough to be driving behind him. Adam's mp3 player isn't working, he's really hoping that it's just the batteries but given that he had found it in a swampy puddle when he was packing, Adam's not really expecting a happy ending.
Musing darkly on how much camping sucked and trying to remember more than the vague impressions of bright glowing lights takes up the rest of the trip. There's no sing-along which might be enough to convince Adam that there is a god. Mr Campion sends them all straight home with the dark promise that their parents are going to hear about this. His mom's gone out so Adam lets himself in and shuffles up to his room and crashes out gratefully in his own bed.
Someone's knocking on the door; a furious rat-tat-tat and Adam groans and rolls over. He drags a pillow over his head and waits for Neil or his mom to answer the door. The knocking gets faster until the taps are running together into an angry buzz. Adam lifts the pillow and it takes a second for his sleep-foggy brain to figure out that the tapping isn't the door; it's something in the room.
Adam stumbles out of bed; still half-asleep and hoping to stop the knocking and get back to bed before he wakes up. He nearly trips over his duffel and steps over it, cursing to himself. Then he stops and looks down again. The duffel is twitching sideways across the floor. Adam paws at his eyes and looks down again, the duffel is several inches further across the floor.
He's never, ever doing drugs again.
The duffel bumps into Adam's discarded sneakers and gets stuck. It still vibrates in time with the increasing frequency of the tapping. Adam pokes at the bag with his toe and it stops for a second then the tapping starts in a fresh frenzy that jerks the bag so hard that the seams strain.
"I've gone insane then," Adam says blankly. The bag jumps towards him this time and Adam startles backwards. He thinks about running away but the idea of being chased around his room by his camping bag is just too much for him. He grabs the zipper as it hops again and has to field the jam jar as it erupts out of the bag in a cloud of unwashed clothes. (Seriously, Adam was there for like a day and a half tops. How the fuck did he manage to dirty fifteen socks?)
The jam jar is glowing, which really doesn't help with Adam's growing conviction that he's actually gone insane. There's a glowing ball of light inside, about the size of a tennis ball and Adam's first thought? I thought fireflies didn't glow by day?
The glowing thing is bouncing around the jam jar like Speedy Gonzales and it takes two hands to hold it. Adam's getting jerked across the floor and his hair is in his eyes and he really, really wants to believe this is a dream. The jar is starting to crack around the lid. Adam scrabbles at the lid and pops it open and the light shoots out like Roadrunner dodging one of Wile E Coyote's traps.
It ricochets off the ceiling, zooms sideways and rattles Adam's window. His curtains rattle along the pole as the light zips back across the room to shake the door. Adam is backing towards his bed, wondering a little hysterically if he should be calling a hospital. What's the proper procedure for hallucinations anyway? Should he be calling 911 or elevating his feet or what? Drugs should totally come with a manual.
The light gives up on rattling the door (seriously, what's up with that? It's like the size of a tennis ball and Adam's door is solid pine) and zips back across to hover in front of Adam's face. This close, Adam can see that it isn't actually a globe, it's a fairy.
It's a boy fairy. He's like five inches tall, with scruffy brown hair, the sort of golden tan that Adam would sell his brother to have and big brown eyes. He's also not wearing a lot, just sandals and a kinda leaf-loincloth thing, which means Adam gets a good look at just how ripped he is. If he was like twelve times taller, Adam would be in love.
"Where am I? Who are you?" The fairy has a surprising deep voice, with Southern accent.
Adam is still staring a little and the fairy huffs, wings beating harder and glitter sparkles through the air. "You're sparkly."
The really sad thing is that that isn't the stupidest thing Adam's ever said to a hot guy. The fairy flushes, actually goes pink across his stupidly perfect cheekbones. He starts to glow again and zips back across to the door. Adam hurries over as the door starts to rattle in its frame. He gets it open before the fairy can knock it down (and it's really kinda terrifying that it looks like he might be able to do that).
The fairy shoots down the stairs and through the door into the backyard. Adam follows him, a lot slower because he's still hungover and not exactly well-co-ordinated. He's expecting that the fairy will be long gone by the time he makes it to the back door. Instead the fairy is hovering just on the edge of the patio, about six inches from the ground. It's hard to tell but Adam thinks he's staring at the orange tree.
Before Adam can think of anything to say (and let's face it, coming up with something appropriate to say to the fairy who just escaped a jam jar and your dirty socks is going to take a while), he spots movement in the overgrown ivy that ate the fence between his backyard and Ms Rosen's. It's Tiddles, Ms Rosen's fat tabby tomcat and he's doing the weird lashing thing with his tail that cats do just before they pounce.
Adam doesn't exactly know the fairy or exactly how he wound up in Adam's jam jar but he's feeling responsible and Tiddles is like, evil in feline form. His plan to snatch the fairy out of harm's way is well-intentioned but it completely fails to take into account a) Adam's hang-over, b) Adam's nearly complete lack of co-ordination and c) the fairy is fast. Adam trips and crashes into the ivy and the fairy zips up into the leaves. Tiddles shoots back across the ivy fence, so it isn't a total loss even if Adam has destroyed all hope of looking like anything but a complete dork in front of his fairy.
"Are you okay?" The fairy flutters down to hover in front of Adam's face.
"Peachy," Adam growls, pushing himself upright. "Don't I look fine?"
The fairy tips his head and gives Adam a considering once-over that makes Adam itchy with the awareness that his T-shirt is rank, his sweatpants are hanging low enough that his belly is bulging out a little over the waistband and his hair and skin are grubby and greasy. He looks (and feels) disgusting.
"You want to come back inside?" Adam asks hopefully. He really doesn't want to get caught talking to a fairy in the backyard. Best case scenario is Neil and a lifetime of 'Disney extra' jokes, Worst case is his grandma and the not-funny 'fairy' jokes. Adam shudders.
The fairy looks around, rising higher and darting over to inspect the tree, the overgrown flower beds and up to peek over the fence. Adam waits until the fairy flies back to hover beside him then opens the back door for him. The fairy ventures into the kitchen, skimming over the hob and lingering by the toaster before going to investigate behind the fridge. Adam's mom has been planning to clean back there since Adam was in middle school so Adam isn't surprised or anything when he shoots back out looking traumatized. He looks around at the radio, poking at the buttons until the radio hisses to life on dead air and the fairy zips backwards, looking startled.
"That-what's that?" He has a really nice voice, low without being stupidly deep or raspy with just a hint of a Southern drawl. He flits around a little and Adam has to curl his hands into fists to keep from trying to grab him again. "Is that a goblin trap? What sort of a place is this?"
"It's my house," Adam says carefully. "Well, technically it's my mom's house but I live here too."
"Where is this?"
"San Diego." Adam says. "California."
"What? Where's California? Who's land is this? Who rules here? I've never heard of 'California'. Is this a goblin trap? Where are my family? Where's Katy? Why did you bring me here?"
"I didn't mean to!" Adam flails a little. "I don't remember bringing you here."
"Well you did!" The fairy doesn't sound angry exactly, more frustrated and scared. "You trapped me in that glass cage and you wouldn't let me out and you wouldn't listen when I asked you to let me go! You wouldn't let me out and it's been more than a day and my family-"
Adam's gut drops into his sneakers as the fairy chokes up on the word 'family'. The glow is dimming and the fairy drops to sit on the kitchen table and buries his face in his hands. "Okay, okay, just hang on. We're doing this all wrong."
The fairy looks confused, head tipped back so he can stare up at Adam and Adam holds out his hand. "Hi, I'm Adam Lambert."
There's a pause as the fairy looks at Adam's hand then at his own. "I'm Kris, Kris Allen and ummmm..." He manages to get his hand around Adam's index finger and shakes. "It's nice to meet you?"
"You too," Adam says honestly. "Look, I'm really sorry about this. There were drugs, I was confused. Actually, I honestly don't remember what happened last night. I remember like, lights and music which is weird because it's supposed to be LSD that makes you trip, I'm like 99% certain?"
"That was..." Kris hesitates and rubs at his eyes. "That was my family. There was this weird smoke. Katy thought it was a Goblin trap. Everyone was flying around. Then everything got really hazy and um, I fell asleep."
"So your whole family was there?" Adam starts the coffee machine and tries really hard to remember through the fog of weed-induced amnesia. He has the horrible feeling that he might have been giggling.
"Yeah," Kris draws up his knees, his sparkle down to a dull glow that makes him look even smaller. "We were on vacation. Somewhere private and quiet."
"So you don't live in those woods?"
"No," Kris shakes his head. "We were traveling for a day or two before we got there."
"A day or two." Adam is getting a really bad feeling here. "Where are you from?"
Kris sounds Southern, that narrows it down to like half the country and Adam's already thinking gas prices and wondering if his mom's going to require a kidney as collateral. He's probably going to be broke for the rest of the year but Kris has managed to cram a lot of cute into his tiny and Adam did kidnap him.
"Ummm..." Kris says, curling up a little tighter.
"...seriously? Please, please tell me this is some sort of fairy fucked-up humor!"
"I know where I live." Kris snaps, before curling gossamer wings around himself and admitting to his knees, "I just don't know where it is for humans."
"Oh fuck me." Adam taps the coffee machine, he is totally not up to dealing with this without epic levels of caffeine. "You don't have any idea where you live?"
"I know where I live," Kris insists. "I just don't know how to get there."
"Well, where do you live?"
"Alfarhame." Kris says like it's the most normal thing in the world.
Adam wonders if his mom would notice if he broke into the liquor cabinet. Coffee is not nearly strong enough to help him cope with this. "And Alf-er-ham is where, exactly?"
"The heart of the Summerlands." Kris waves a hand, wings fanning out. "It's warm, there's the Forest, the Lake and the Mountains."
"....maybe...what if I got you back to the woods? The place from last night?"
Kris curls in on himself again and shakes his head, Adam pours himself a cup of coffee to buy himself time to think. "Why not? I mean, your family have got to be going nuts by now. It'll take us a few hours but-"
"They won't be looking." Kris says quietly.
Adam snaps his mouth shut and sits down, chin on his arms. This close Kris looks even tinier and completely miserable. Adam chews his lip and feels incredibly awkward. Kris wipes his eyes on the edge of his wings and swallows a few times. "When they couldn't find me by sunrise, they'll assume that it was a Goblin attack. Katy will take them home. They're probably at home by now."
"They're just going to abandon you?" Adam stares at the tiny adorable fairy and honestly cannot wrap his mind around it. If he had a Kris, well, he wouldn't lose his Kris but if Kris went missing, Adam would take the state apart to find him.
"It's not safe." Kris says simply. "We've got- I have a kid brother. My mom's been ill and it wouldn't be safe for them to stay there if there are Goblins."
Adam still doesn't get it but Kris' eyes are wet and Adam is a little thoughtless at times but he's not an asshole. He sits back and pretends not to notice as Kris wipes his eyes on his wings again. "So, ...breakfast?"
He looks around the kitchen. "What do fairies eat anyway?"
The answer, it turns out, is "a lot". Adam watches Kris eat a sesame-seed bagel with sausage and cream cheese in horrified fascination. Kris proceeds to eat two apples and drink a glass of milk that's bigger than he is before flopping down to sprawl out on the table with a happy smile. Kris has a really contagious smile and Adam grins as he stacks everything in the dishwasher.
"I'm afraid to ask where you're putting all that." Adam comments dryly. Kris rolls his head and pats his belly with a satisfied groan. He's adorable and Adam really wishes he had a camera. "How are you so tiny if you eat like twice what I do?"
Kris launches into a long, rambling explanation that boils down to "I haven't eaten since yesterday." Adam breathes a sigh of relief; if Kris eats that much food a day, then keeping him secret shouldn't be a problem. His mom won't notice a little extra food but hiding someone who's eating more than Neil is just not possible.
That Adam is going to keep Kris a secret isn't in question; Kris turns out to be totally on board with this which is a bonus but Adam's not thinking about why he wants Kris to stay a secret. Instead he turns his attention to finishing off the last of his coffee and teasing Kris about the faint bulge of his belly.
By the time Adam's mom gets home, they've got the beginnings of an understanding. Kris is pretty quiet, very curious and has already tidied Adam's room twice. Adam has discovered that Kris is a sucker for chocolate and ice-cream (even if Adam should put down a tea towel before letting him loose on a carton of Hagen Daz).
His mom doesn't see Kris and she's so pleased Adam's room is tidy that she orders in pizza. Adam manages to smuggle Kris two slices and by the time his mom orders him to bed, Kris is too stuffed to fly properly, looping lazily up the stairs ahead of him. Adam has to bite his lips to hide the smile.
He's exhausted himself, too tired to think of where Kris is going to sleep as he washes his teeth and stumbles over to the bed. With the overhead light off, the only light is Kris' glow and it's a warm, soft light, like a candle. Shadows jump as Kris moves around, Adam hears some splashing from the direction of the glass of water on his dresser and Kris' glow dims. Adam snuggles into his pillow and the last thing he hears is Kris' soft "Good night."
Adam wakes up late the next morning, thankfully without the hangover. He rolls over and looks around his suspiciously tidy room. There's no sign of Kris and Adam sits bolt upright. The window is open and he can hear his mom singing downstairs. He's not sure if he imagined Kris or if Kris left early. It's stupid to feel hurt, Adam tells himself as he stares at the window and fiercely resists the urge to go looking for Kris. He pretty much kidnapped Kris, got him abandoned by his family and-
And there's a glow, almost undetectable in the sunlight, coming from the top drawer of Adam's dresser.
"Kris?" Adam says hesitantly.
Kris' head pops out of the drawer and he yawns, wings fanning out and beating lazily as he stretches. Adam can hear his joints popping and he smiles wide and ridiculous with relief. "Good morning, sleepyhead."
Kris mumbles something that's probably rude, words slurred into incomprehensible Southern drawl. Adam laughs and throws back his covers. Kris pouts but it breaks into an answering smile despite his best efforts. He flies out of the drawer and it's only then that Adam realizes that Kris must have slept there last night. Oh god. "Kris? Tell me you didn't sleep in there last night?"
"Um, yeah?" Kris flutters around his shoulder and rubs at his eyes. "I was tired."
"Umm..."
"It was really convenient," Kris continues, sounding genuinely enthusiastic. "Actually, would you mind if I slept there like full time?"
"Ah...no? That's cool." Adam says faintly. "But, you know, you should have your own bed. Clothes, bed-clothes. Like sheets and stuff. We can hit up Goodwill this afternoon. Um, you wanna maybe grab a towel from the press in the meantime?"
"Sure. And thanks!" Kris zips out of the room and Adam hears rummaging around from the general direction of the press. He bolts across the room and opens the drawer, frantically emptying the whole thing into the drawer below; all his underwear, two wrinkled copies of Esquire and the packet of condoms he bought in a fit of optimism on his birthday.
He's just finished stuffing the last of his boxers (the really comfortable ones that Neil dyed pink) in when Kris zooms back in, trailing a bath towel that's like bigger than Adam; he looks like the world's fluffiest, cuddliest ghost. He's managed to wrap himself in the towel so he flies straight into Adam's shoulder and Adam has to catch him and the towel.
It takes like five minutes to untangle Kris from the towel because it turns out that Kris is ticklish. Adam, as a card-carrying big brother, can't be expected to overlook such an obvious weakness. Kris has a great laugh, warm and full-bodied and totally not self-conscious He manages to dodge Adam's fingers and dives down Adam's T-shirt, a little giggling lump near Adam's heart.
He's warm and soft and trusting and Adam can't keep the sappy smile off his face. Kris is really kind of awesome. Adam squashes the floaty happy feeling and tries not to think beyond this moment. This, right here, is good. That's all he can ask for.
They don't make it to Goodwill until Wednesday and even then, they don't buy sheets. Kris has managed to fit the entire bath towel into the drawer and he's made himself a weird kinda nest and he burrows in and the towel is kinda old so his glow shines through, casting patterns on the walls and giving Adam's David Bowie poster this awesome overlay that just looks fierce.
Kris might be the easiest person in the world to share a room with; he's small, quiet and laid back about just about everything. Adam finds himself talking to Kris about random shit and it turns out that Kris can sing. Fairies apparently don't get FM, because Kris spends Monday and Tuesday orbiting Adam's shitty old radio. The sound is for shit but Adam shows him how to tune it and Kris' expression when he realities that there's more stations is something beautiful that Adam is going to treasure for the rest of his life.
They do still need to make the trip to Goodwill though, just not for sheets. Kris needs clothes and it turns out that the whole leaf-cloth thing does actually wither and Kris can't replace it because he can't find any weeds (sorry, flowers) that he knows the spell for. Adam spends Tuesday night explaining modern fashion. Kris throws a cushion that's three times his size at Adam when he tries in all seriousness to explain sewing.
Adam's mom has a old sewing kit that she doesn't really use and Adam gets it out and tries not to laugh when Kris picks up a needle. He can fit his thumb through the eye and he asks Adam a lot of questions which leads to Adam emptying out his closet, showing off his favorite well-worn jeans and glittery t-shirts and breaking out his secret stash of Vogues. (Why yes, Adam embraces the stereotype. In secret but still, embracing.)
"Pants go down to the ankle, yeah?" Kris checks, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip.
"Yeah and see, here in this one..." Adam rifles through the magazines. Kris isn't the fashion-obsessive that Adam is but he's an awesome listener. He asks all the right questions and makes some really good suggestions and is just there in a way most people aren't when Adam starts to talk about his ideas.
It isn't until the next morning that Adam decides that they need to go to Goodwill. Or possibly Home Depot, for a fly-swatter.
He wakes up to find his favorite pair of jeans neatly folded over his desk chair, minus the bottom six inches of the right leg. It's been neatly cut away, in a carefully straight line just below the knee. There are a few scattered scraps of denim across the top of the dresser.
Adam is still frozen in horror when Kris flies in from the bathroom. He's wearing jeans - baggy, too long for him and being held up with a safety pin and the denim looks familiar. Kris looks good in jeans but the desecration of his favorite jeans is still too fresh for Adam to appreciate. Adam doesn't have so many clothes that flatter him that he can afford to lose those jeans.
When he explains this to Kris, Kris tips his head to one side like a particularly adorable puppy and says "But you don't need clothes to look good. You always look good."
There's actually nothing Adam can say to argue with that.
Kris slots himself into Adam's life so easily that by the time Adam goes back to school the next week, he's actually forgotten what it was like without him. High school is still high school and Adam's still floundering like the worst kind of ugly duckling. It gets easier to deal with the casual cruelty of his peers with Kris buzzing around the ceilings. He stays out of sight, hiding in Adam's locker if it's a gloomy day and he pays attention. Adam starts scrupulously avoiding the librarian when she comes looking for missing books. Kris is a good guy and he always puts them back when he's done. Adam's still not explaining that to her.
Catching Kris up on his various subjects proves to be a good reviewing tool and Adam does pretty well in tests. He learns a lot about Kris in turn; Kris can dim his glow so he's nearly invisible, he's actually about as strong as Adam but a lot faster and Kris can sing. He starts by singing along with the radio, first when he thinks Adam isn't listening then more confidently over time.
He still sleeps in the bath-towel, but he's gotten good at sewing which is just as well, since the only clothes his size that Adam can afford are old Kentm outfits from Goodwill and yard sales. He doesn't actually need to shave, which is good because Adam can't think of any way to McGuyver a normal-sized razor into something that Kris could use without cutting his head off. His hair doesn't actually seem to grow that much, staying scruffy and just a little too long.
They actually shower together. Sorta. Kinda. In an non-creepy way. Adam offered to run the shower for him when he wanted and they'd tried that for a few days before Adam's mom came in to switch it off. Kris, only half-clean, had to hide behind a loofah and was still blushing the next day. So he just uses the shower at the same time, staying on the soap dish where Adam keeps his shower gel. His wings are almost a cloak when they're wet, dark opaque gold hanging down past Kris' knees. Adam doesn't look and he doesn't think Kris would.
The singing starts as a distraction from the fact that Kris is right there and naked and if he turns around then he'll see Adam naked and that's just terrifying. So Adam sings, random snatches of song to distract himself. Kris joins in when Adam sings Micheal Jackson's 'Beat It' and the impromptu duet becomes a habit and the best thing in a lot of Adam's days.
In the summer, Adam's dad makes him get a job in Starbucks. "You need to be earning money, son. You need to be contributing to the household."
Adam doesn't mind his job; he's still spotty and fat and closeted but having Kris to talk to makes dealing with other people easier. It's amazing how much easier it is to be himself now that he has someone who knows him and likes him for being himself.
"Do I need to contribute?" Kris asks after Adam's grumbled about his dad and reluctantly started work on his CV.
"No, no," Adam is reading one of those how-to books about how he should be 'optimizing' his CV and getting more confused by the second. "It's not like you could get a job. It's just that it's not fair to Mom, you know? I can't keep just expecting her to pay for everything. It's just, part of growing up I guess."
"Part of growing up," Kris says thoughtfully and Adam is so wrapped up in the book that he doesn't pay as much attention as he should to the expression on Kris' face.
They've agreed that Kris won't come with Adam for his first shift. Adam's going to have a lot to take in and Kris would really just be a distraction. It's the good choice, the mature choice and Adam starts regretting it before they give him an apron. He gets through the first shift and grabs the bus home.
His mom is waiting to congratulate him and has cooked him dinner and everything. It's cool and they get a chance to actually talk which is even cooler. Adam's mom is cool and he loves her to pieces but they've both been very busy lately and Kris has been eating up most of Adam's spare time.
"You know I love you," she says which makes Adam freeze.
"Yeah, of course!"
"You know that I'll love you no matter what, right?"
"Yeah," Adam says more hesitantly.
"And you know that you can tell me anything, right?" His mom presses, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
"Yeah," Adam looks down and there's an uncomfortable stretch of time before his mom squeezes his hand again and lets go. Adam feels like she's still waiting for something and he opens his mouth. "I...mom, I'm gay."
His mom smiles and reaches out to hug him tightly. "Thank you for telling me, sweetheart. I love you."
"This is starting to feel like an episode of Sally or something." Adam jokes, hugging her back. It's not like he ever thought his mom would hate him for being gay or anything, he just ...didn't want to test that belief.
They don't really talk much after that and Adam retreats to his room, making a joke about needing his sleep before another day in the coffee mines and he bounces into his room, still relieved and embarrassed and eager to talk it all out with Kris.
But Kris isn't there.
He isn't in his drawer, the Narnia book he's been reading is still on top of the dresser and the room is empty. Adam's cheerful mood evaporates. He checks everywhere; under the bed, under the dresser and there's no sign of Kris. Adam sits on his bed and tries really hard not to freak out.
Just as he starts to lose his cool completely, there's a tapping at the window and he looks up to see the small globe of light wavering on the windowsill. He hurries over and throws open the sash so Kris can get in. Kris skims the edge of the window and swoops straight for the bed, landing with a bounce.
"Where have you been?" Adam demands, wincing at the shrill tone. Anger is flooding in; he's been worried sick and seriously, Kris couldn't have left a note?
Kris' glow dims enough that Adam can make him out and, shit, is that blood? Adam dives across the room to scoop Kris up. It still comes as a shock to realize how light Kris is; how tiny he is. Adam cradles him against his chest, feeling Kris' panting and racing pulse. "Fuck, shit, Kris! What happened to you? Where does it hurt? Fuck, let me grab the first aid kit."
Kris wraps his hand around Adam's thumb and squeezes. "Man, chill, I'm fine."
"The fuck you are." Adam growls. There's blood clotting along the ruptured lines of his wings, what looks like it's going to be a wicked black eye and he has his free hand tucked against his side. Adam tucks Kris into his pajama pocket and sneaks downstairs to grab ice and band-aids. He patches Kris up on his desk, under the light of his lamp. This close, Adam can see the way the golden glitter of Kris' skin shines and the delicate strands of light that connect his wings to the smooth expanse of his back.
The wings are the worst, Adam dabs a ball of cotton wool soaked with anti-septic along the worst of it. Kris whimpers and Adam wants to just cuddle him and hug him and keep him safe forever. He chops slivers off the ice and wraps it up in some tissue as a kind of icepack and makes Kris hold it against his eye. There's a load of tiny scrapes and cuts all over Kris's arms and legs. Adam spends like an hour disinfecting and cleaning and Kris winds up looking like the Band-Aid Mummy but at least Adam's fairly sure he's not going to die of infection.
"Okay," Adam says at last, thumb rubbing absently at Kris' good arm. "Now, what the fuck happened to you?"
"I had to look a little farther than I thought I would," Kris says like that's some kind of answer.
"Look for what? Look where?" Adam is starting to get pissy. "You couldn't wait for me to get home before you went gallivanting off around the state?"
"No," Kris says seriously. "I couldn't. I had to do it."
"Why? What the hell were you doing that you had to do it alone?"
"Have to contribute," Kris parrots, matching Adam's inflection from weeks ago with an eerie accuracy. He waves a hand towards the bed. "Have to pay my way."
"Oh sweetheart," Adam says even before he looks at the bed because Kris doesn't need to pay, will never need to pay to be welcome in Adam's life. "You didn't have to-holy shit"
There's a roll of notes where Kris landed on the bed. Adam must have missed it. He was more worried by the fact that Kris was bleeding and couldn't fly. It's more money than Adam's ever seen in one place before and he turns to stare at Kris. "Oh my god, Kris, where did you get that? Did you hold up a bank or something? Or, like, mug someone? What the hell?"
"Hold up a bank?" Kris looks confused. "No, I just found a Leprechaun's hoard."
"A Leprechaun?" Adam turns back to Kris, expecting to see that mischievous smile that says Kris is fucking with him but Kris just blinks up at him, innocent and sleepy. He tosses the roll of notes into Kris' drawer and sits back down in front of Kris. "Okay, this I gotta hear."
"It wasn't a big deal," Kris says. Adam disagrees even when it turns out that Leprechauns aren't quite the greedy vicious little bastards that legends claim they are. "It's like squirrels, you know? Or magpies, maybe. They like collecting gold and once they have a whole pot, they hide it. Usually they bury it but sometimes they hide it under trees or bushes. Most Leprechauns have like, really bad memories so they forget where they hid their pot and if you know where to look, you can find one pretty easily."
"Easily?" Adam carries Kris over to the bed and puts him on the spare pillow before switching off the lights and getting into bed. "So you look like someone tried to put you through a blender because?"
"Um, one of the bushes that Leprechauns like to hide their pots in are briars." Kris shrugs, then winces and mumbles a little. Adam tucks a corner of blanket over him. "I kinda forgot that."
"I thought you said Leprechauns hoarded gold, though?" Adam says as he settles down.
"They do." Kris says around a huge yawn. It's kinda terrifying that he can open his mouth that wide, actually.
"So how'd you turn it into money? I mean, paper money?"
"Oh, magic." Kris says, breathing already evening out.
"Yeah, magic." Adam gripes fondly. "Shoulda seen that one coming."
In the morning, they have an argument about the money. Well, a heated debate about the money because Adam thinks Kris should hang onto it, just in case and Kris thinks Adam should have it and share it with his mom. They wind up compromising over the course of the week; Kris gives Adam fifty bucks which Adam claims as tips from work and no-one seems to notice.
Kris frets that he's not giving enough so Adam, on one of his days off, actually sits down and works out how much feeding, cleaning and clothing Kris is costing the Lambert family.
"Ten point two cents a day." Adam says finally. Kris blinks at him and flies over carefully; his wings are a lot slower to heal than the rest of him and he's been stuck in Adam's room for days. "That's how much it costs to keep you, so," he scribbles down a few figures to check, "You're paid up for the next...five years."
"Oh." Kris goes back to the computer. (Watching him type is hilarious because he has to hop across the keyboard and stamp on keys.) "That's cool."
One year after Adam accidentally kidnapped Kris, Kris steals a beer from the fridge and disappears for the night. Adam worries and stays up half the night just in case Kris isn't coming back. When he wakes up, still in his desk chair and with a cramp in his neck, Kris is crashed out on his pillow, snoring gustily. Adam watches him for a bit, glad despite himself that Kris is still here.
High school is racing into the final stretch and Adam spends a month debating whether or not he wants to go to college. His parents think he should; Adam thinks the idea of a less-supervised, drunker high school sounds like the ninth circle of hell. Neil wants to be a journalist so Neil thinks college is awesome. Adam just wants to sing, and get laid and he doesn't really need college for that.
He asks Kris about it and Kris flutters over to sit cross-legged on his knee. Adam lays the whole thing out like Kris hasn't been there for just about every second and flops back onto the bed. Kris fans his wings out to keep his balance and thinks for few minutes. (Which is why Adam is talking to Kris; his parents and Neil don't think about what Adam's saying any more, just repeating back the same points until Adam is so frustrated he wants to scream.)
"Do you have to go to college right out of high school?" Kris asks eventually.
"Most people do," Adam says gloomily.
"No-one, like, takes a year out or something?" Kris continues, chin in hands. "I mean, would it be possible for you to, I don't know, go audition for the plays with the songs-"
"Musicals," Adam interjects.
"-yeah, them, for a year and then if that's not working, maybe go to college to study music?" Kris finishes. "So you can figure out where to go from there?"
Adam sits up to stare at him. "You're a genius!"
Kris blushes and gives him that shy, radiant smile that Adam has like this Pavlovian response to because he scoops Kris up for a hug.
It takes most of his last year in school to talk his parents around to Kris' point of view but eventually, they agree and Adam starts to look for apartments in LA and making lists of what he needs and will have to bring and what can just stay here at his mom's until he has time to collect it. His mom buys him a car, one of the older Fords that looks kinda like a tank but it reliable and not too much of a gas-guzzler.
The last three months of high school are hectic, it kinda figures that just as Adam approaches a point at which he'll never have to see his peers again, everyone wants to be his friend and cry about how awful it is that high school is ending. Adam is as nice and non-committal as he can be and crams in as many extra shifts in Starbucks as he can. Kris hangs out with him pretty much all the time now even at work which is cool but it means that Adam has almost no chance to actually speak to him.
"You're coming with me," Adam asks the night before graduation, pretending a confidence that he doesn't feel, "Right?"
There's rustling from Kris' drawer and the glow brightens a little as Kris sticks his head out. Kris is glowing bright than he normally does, shoulders a little hunched and his drawl is really, really pronounced. Adam thinks for the millionth time that Kris is adorable when he's shy. "If you want me to."
"I am not dignifying that with a response," Adam says, rolling over to look at Kris.
"Okay," Kris smiles. "Sure. I'll come."
Adam graduates and it's a sob-fest and everyone's hugging and promising to stay in touch and there's like a billion photos with everyone that he's ever met in high school. There's this awkward moment where Keith hugs him and Adam gets reminded in a big rush about his crush on the guy and even though it's been like two years and Adam is so over him, there's something cool in being hugged tight and hearing Keith's voice in his ear.
Two weeks later, Adam packs his stuff into the back of his car and puts the lease on his new apartment into the glove box. He hugs his mom and his brother and there might be some tears in there. He starts the car and waves goodbye. Two miles down the road, he has to pull over for a second so he can wipe his eyes and sniffle a little.
Kris pops out of the boxes, the one marked with "Adam's ???" and settles on Adam's shoulder, hugging his neck. He doesn't say anything and Adam is grateful; there is no way he is capable of talking right now. Kris stays hugging Adam's neck for most of the first day. Adam's mom booked him a motel about halfway and made him promise to use it. They arrive fairly early, in time to grab a pizza from the Domino's across the street.
The room is a dingy beige with accents in grubby white. The bed is hard and smells of bleach and cigarette smoke. He brings in his suitcase, what's left of the six pack of Coke he started with that morning and Kris. Kris brings the box he started in. It's a shoebox which Adam doesn't recognize and Kris drops it on the bed and it bounces.
"What's that?" Adam says after they've eaten every scrap of the pizza and Kris is trying to balance a can of coke so he can drink out of it without drowning in it. "I don't remember packing that."
"You didn't." Kris says absently.
"But I packed all of your stuff," Adam thinks back and yeah, all of Kris' worldly possessions are bundled up in his bath towel in Adam's 'Bedroom' box.
"It's not my stuff."
"It's not?" Adam feels sticky and slow. His back and his ass ache with the stress of driving for so long.
"It's yours," Kris manages to pour a little Coke out and gulps it down.
"Seriously?" Adam rolls over to open the box. He's a little clumsy, still wrapped up in trying to figure out what the hell he packed in a shoe-box. "Oh my god..."
There's a pair of black leather boots, knee-high and with polished steel buckles. Adam is totally and immediately in love. They're brand new, still smooth and perfect and smelling of polish and god, so perfect. Adam takes them out and stares and stares. Kris is laughing, soft and fond and Adam is so not paying attention to him because Adam has kick-ass boots.
It's a couple of minutes, during which time Adam may or may not be trying out to figure out how to sleep with his new boots, before Adam realizes that there's more stuff in the box.
"It's not much," Kris says honestly but Adam is not paying any attention to him because holy shit, Kris got him make-up!
Not a lot of make-up and it's the teeny-girl starter kits but it's bright and there's like six different eye shadows, an eyeliner pencil and some other stuff. There's nail polish in like blue and purple and black. Adam actually tears up a little when he finds the small vial of glitter at the very bottom of the box.
"You're going to LA to be yourself," Kris says from where he's sitting on his Coke can. "I figured I'd help."
"Fairy magic does make-up and kickass boots?" Adam laughs, cradling his boots and his make-up and feeling hope past the whole knee-knocking terror that has been shivering through the back of his mind.
"On special occasions." Kris smiles, flitting off the Coke can to land on the spare pillow.
Adam goes to sleep that night with a smile on his face. LA is going to be awesome.
Two years after that, LA sucks. Adam's been working every job he can just to pay the bills. His apartment's shit, his social life consists of whoever's in the show he's currently doing and he's hungry all the time. If Kris wasn't busting his ass to keep the apartment clean, Adam probably would be dead of like, typhus or something horrible.
He's tired all the time, stumbling through everything that isn't work and his voice rasps and squeaks for hours after each show. The worst part of all, is that Adam is afraid it's never going to get better than this. He doesn't have time to even dream of a demo tape, most auditions clash with his rehearsals and in LA, every.one is aware that every day, every second gets you closer to being 'old', 'past it' and 'never-made it'.
Adam learns a lot about being 'out' in LA. He learns that no matter what compromises he makes, there's a dickhead out there who'll scream 'Faggot' and 'Sodomite' just because Adam exists. He starts to push back, stops apologizing, stops listening to their crap and starts trying to make himself happy.
If he hadn't had Kris, Adam thinks he'd have gone back to San Diego and stayed there after the first Thanksgiving. Kris is like the house-fairy; he keeps the apartment from turning into a sewer, makes sure there's food (and god bless the internet and online grocery shopping). He sings for Adam in the shower when Adam's voice is too fucked out to even rasp along.
It's spring, Adam's latest show wraps at last and after spending a week crashed out his shitty couch catching up on the months of sleep he's missing by this point. He goes out after that; has to because Kris is itching to go somewhere that isn't concrete and plastic and exhaust fumes and clogged drains. Adam's still slow and stupid with the depression that follows the high of closing night. He's wrapped up in thinking about money; how much they need, how much he wishes they had and how much they actually have. Three different numbers and Adam just wants to call it quits, wants to say fuck it and go home and hug his mom and just stay on the couch for like a year.
It's godawful early, the sun a light haze on the horizon and there's this little park with actual honest-to-god palm trees and some withered wisps of grass. Adam sits on the bench which is all graffiti and might have actual bullet holes in it. He sits down, sighs and tips his head back. It's as cool as LA really gets; crisp edges to the breeze and the concrete is cool under his sneakers. The air isn't entirely fresh but it's clearer and there's space to breathe deep and Adam feels a little of the tension easing as his shoulders relax.
"You're not allowed to fall asleep," Kris' voice comes from just in front of him and Adam opens his eyes. There's a haze of golden glitter and Adam's eyes cross, trying to focus on him. "No way I'm hauling you home."
"I wish you would," Adam admits, more honest than he means to be.
Kris lands on his chest and looks up at him, face all scrunched up in a worried expression. "Hey, you know things are getting better, right?"
"Are they?"
"Yeah," Kris says seriously. "They are. You've got the Wicked audition next week and you're going to get it and that's a big deal. It'll really help your career."
"You cannot act like I'm just going to get that part," Adam is smiling despite himself because Kris (who's grown like a quarter of an inch over the last four years) is standing on the lapel of Adam's denim jacket like a miniature cheerleader with his arms folded and his wings floating in the breeze.
"You deserve it." Kris says firmly. "You're going to get this and you're going to be awesome."
Adam's smile spreads across his face and he brings up an arm to cuddle Kris. "You're biased."
"I have working ears, I have heard you sing." Kris says into Adam's shirt. "I know you can do this."
Kris is possibly the sweetest guy on the planet but he's a shitty liar and Adam can read him like a book. Kris isn't lying and Adam feels a warm surge of affection in his chest. He's not the dorky San Diego kid he used to be but knowing that Kris believes in him is enough to make him feel like he's king of the world. "Thanks, babe. You're the greatest."
"You know we've got some money, right?" Kris says after they've been sitting like that for a few minutes. "You could go out with Cassidy and Alisan. There's that new club that they've been talking about, yeah?"
"We can't affo-" Adam starts but Kris darts up and presses his hand against Adam's top lip.
"We can. Trust me."
"When you put it like that..." Adam says, garbled around Kris's hand.
He calls Cassidy on the way home and arranges to meet up about nine. Cassidy sounds genuinely thrilled to hear it and gives Adam, like, thirteen different sets of directions and a tip on the dress code; "Pretty and sparkly, sweetheart."
It's a good night, Adam smuggles Kris in under the collar of the new coat Cassidy made from the beat up leather duster Adam found in a thrift store. There's so many sequins and glitter that Kris' sparkling light is invisible. Once they get to the cloakroom, Kris slips away and Adam gets dragged on to the floor by one of Cassidy's friends and yeah, this Adam can totally do.
The club is thrumming with energy, the floor is a seething mass of beautiful sparkling people and the bar is crowded; there's a hot-ass twink of a bartender doing some kind of flair bartending without his shirt on. The music is a physical current, rippling through the crowd in shock waves and it's like the tidal pull. Adam does like three shots in the first minute, all courtesy of some guy in silver lipstick and Egyptian eyeshadow. They're like some kind of neon rainbow and there's more coming because this is LA and some people will do anything to get close to the pretty people.
The realization, which comes about the seventh shot, that Adam is one of the pretty people is a better high than any weed or booze. It's like he's on fire, burning like a real star and there's always someone wanting to dance with him whenever his current partner or partners wear out.
Hours, maybe days later, Adam's singing to Madonna's 'Vogue' when someone fits themselves against his front and grinds back and mmm, yeah. Adam hasn't been a virgin since like a month after he made it to LA and he's had enough hook-ups and casual relationships that he knows what he wants. The crowd bunches up around them and Adam has to work to get his hands forward to curl around the guy's hips. It's a guy, he can tell that for sure, tight ass, narrow hips and just the right size to fit in against Adam. The lights are flashing and it's impossible to see details but the guy rolls them hip-to-hip and Adam's singing chokes off into a groan.
That's his last clear memory; the rest is psychedelic flashes, leather under his palm, mint and Jack in the sort of kiss that curls his toes and the heaving sweaty mass of humanity rolling around them while the music shudders through the air.
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