Fanfic - All The Nights Are Woven | Part 1 of 2

[bubby_wubby]

Title: All The Nights Are Woven (Title taken from lyrics of “All Night Long” by Peter Murphy)
Word Count: 19,100-ish
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Type: AU/an Angsty-Romance type thing
Rated: NC-17 (for strong language/sexy times/the usual)

A/N: This is for orihara_kaoru who asked me to write her a fic for charity. “So not worthy” and “Whoa” were my first coherent thoughts…She asked for a holiday Kradam fic. Um, since I was too lazy to actually do research, I based the story in Los Angeles. Also, um, centered it around other holidays since this was finished after Christmas…sooo, essentially, this totally doesn’t fit the prompt she gave me in any way. orihara_kaoru, bb, hope you enjoy!

Thank you to: The always fabulous anobakitay! Without her, this would be a big, giant mess. All other mistakes on the final version are mine, and mine alone.

Disclaimer: This is not true. This did not happen.



“5! … 4! … 3! … 2! … 1!... HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Shouts and laughter of celebration filled the club. The walls and floors of the Mix Lounge at Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas shook as bursts of confetti, glitter and screams of celebration permeated the room. The windows that lined the length of the 64th floor displayed the fireworks and strobe lights coming from the various hotels around Las Vegas. Cheers came up from the thousands of people who lined the streets and cars honked as they cruised up and down the Strip.

Inside the club, Kris closed his eyes and reveled in the music and festivity around him until Charles, Cale and Matt surrounded him. They merged together in a giant hug, and formed a lopsided circle with flurries of arms tangling, hands patting backs and kisses on cheeks and foreheads.

Kris laughed with giddiness as they separated and somehow his hand was gripping another flute filled with champagne.

Charles planted a kiss on Kris’s temple and said in his ear, “Happy fucking New Year, dude.”

Kris hugged him, “You too, man.” He stepped back as Charles got yanked backwards by Matt and a couple of girls in sparkly, too short dresses and heaving chests ready to pop out.

Kris snorted and turned, only to bump into a chest. He looked up to apologize, but was left speechless when he stared into a pair of blue eyes. Not just blue eyes, but electric blue eyes, highlighted by black and shiny silver eyeliner, which made the man’s eyes stand out even more. The man had glossy full lips that Kris suddenly wanted to taste. His champagne glass was forgotten as he continued to stare.

A strong hand wrapped around Kris’s wrist and up-righted the glass before the bubbly liquid spilled out onto the sticky floor.

Kris glanced at the man’s hand, then back up to see the man’s face. The man’s eyes crinkled lightly as he smiled. He seized the flute and took a large gulp, emptying half the glass. He rested the glass along Kris’s lower lip. Kris opened his mouth and finished the remaining champagne. Their eyes never left each other, even when the man handed the empty flute to a passing waiter.

Kris felt himself blushing as the icy blue eyes stopped eye contact and roamed his face, studying it intensely. They rested on Kris’s lips, which felt suddenly dry. Unconsciously, Kris flicked out his tongue to moisten his bottom lip and scraped his teeth over it. The man moved closer and Kris felt the warm breath caress his face before soft lips tentatively touched his.

An innocent kiss.

The man lifted head slightly for a second, searching Kris’s face. For what, Kris didn’t know. Didn’t care. The next kiss wasn’t innocent. Wasn’t tentative.

It was consuming.

Kris’s body flared to life with heat. He kissed back and opened his mouth, took the man’s tongue, sucked on it as if he needed it like oxygen. The taste of champagne passed between them. Kris felt the man’s body close the space between them, his hand no longer on Kris’s wrist, but kneading his head, caressing this throat, bringing their faces closer.

Kris was being eaten alive, but he knew he was doing the same to this man. He draped one arm around the stranger’s neck, bringing his own body up and nearer to where he needed to be; his other arm wrapped around the man’s waist and tightened his hold.

Kris felt like he was floating, body and lips glued to the tall, dark stranger. His back hit the cool surface of a sturdy wall. He groaned as he lifted his head to gasp for air. The man bit his ear lobe and Kris shuddered. Just like that, Kris was hard and ready to explode in his pants.

The man licked a wet stripe down his jaw, and Kris nearly collapsed with the sensation. He envisioned this tongue over his chest, down his torso and around his cock.

His throat closed tight and he struggled to make coherent sounds. The only noises coming out of Kris’s mouth were deep, gurgled groans and the occasional whimper as the man started to grind his thigh into Kris’s straining cock.

Kris gripped the man’s waist and started to pull at his shirt. Skin. Kris wanted to feel skin. He hoped that touching this man’s skin would cool down his own body, which was threatening to strangle him and make him come apart at the same time.

As Kris’s fingers flitted over the man’s side and back, Kris’s body flashed with overwhelming want that started in his stomach and traveled with lightning speed through his blood stream. The combination of smooth, heated skin, the firm grip on his erection and a deep-pulling suck at this throat ruptured his synapses, the mini-blasts flashed from the tips of his hairline to his toes.

His head hit the wall and Kris heard the moan, stretching out from deep within the man’s throat. Kris felt the heavy shiver on top of him. He tried to lift his hand to touch that beautiful face-the man with the unforgettable eyes-but, Kris’s body was too spent, and all he could do was breathe heavily and lean against the wall. He turned his head as the man moved.

Their eyes met, heat still moving between them. The man smiled and leaned down to kiss him again, but was pulled away.

Kris didn’t react in time. His arm outstretched, but he couldn’t grab onto him, his body not cooperating. Kris couldn’t snatch him back. Their fingers barely brushed as they were separated. The man was lost from his view, as he disappeared into the crowd.

Kris fell heavily to the floor.

**

Adam slumped into his seat and pulled the cap down over his face. Mike tossed him a blanket and continued to move around in the row. Other passengers squeezed by in the narrow aisles looking rough and tired.

“We should have taken a charter. This many miserable people in a small space are getting on my nerves,” Mike said as he tried to arrange their bags in the overhead compartment.

Adam hummed in agreement, but didn’t say anything else. He was tired, melancholy.

“At least it’s a short flight,” Mike continued. “And you look like shit. Try to get some sleep,” he said gruffly, finally settling into the seat next to him.

“Thanks. I love you, too,” Adam mumbled.

“Bad idea trying to hook up with that guy last night,” Mike said nonchalantly.

Adam sighed. He wasn’t buying the casual tone. “Leave it alone, Mike.”

“You could have been photographed.”

“So what?” Adam replied surly.

Mike shook his head and reached up to adjust the fan. “Just saying it’s not good when there are lawyers, the executive board, your stepfather and all the gossip sites coming after you.”

“I’ve had photos of me making out with guys in the tabloids before. Wouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Well, considering that your stepfather is in some deep shit, your dad is stressed out with the conservative naysayers all over your family’s businesses like rabid dogs…it could be a big deal, Adam.”

“Whatever. No one there even knew it was me,” Adam stretched over and lowered the window shade. “Plus, I haven’t done anything wrong. Fuck them.”

“‘Fuck them,’ he says,” Mike repeated softly. “You’re next in line to take over one of the biggest media companies in the country. The big guys are after the various Lambert Media holdings, including TV and radio stations, sales are down on the publishing and web side, and you say ‘fuck them.’ Nice Adam, nice. Revenues are at an all-time low, the board is bitching daily, your sales team is trying to secure some major deals and clients and that’s your attitude.”

“Let me sleep, and you can lecture me tomorrow, Mike.”

This time Mike sighed. “Fine. Maybe you’ll stop being an asshole once you’re rested up.”

Adam snorted as the plane took off, “Not likely. But good luck with that wish.”

He pretended to sleep, but all Adam could think of was the cute guy from last night. The guy’s crooked smile. His big brown eyes. The baby pink of his tongue and how that tongue tasted and felt. How he had come in his pants, something Adam hadn’t done in years…and in public. Recalling the feel of the guy’s lips, the sound of his groan, the taste of his skin, the way the guy shivered and rocked as he…Adam shifted in his seat and loosened the seatbelt so he could twist his body away from Mike.

He was still pissed that Mike and Tommy grabbed and dragged him away like that. How’d they even find him in that corner anyway? That’s why they chose Mix Lounge to celebrate New Year’s. Exclusive invite list, dark corners, great music. Adam wanted to get the guy’s name, at least. Granted, it was probably for the best that it ended like that. Adam didn’t have time, and apparently didn’t have the freedom anymore.

But, damn, Adam knew he’d be remembering last night for a long time. He would be remembering the kiss and that nameless guy for even longer.

**

“I’m so tired, I could fucking sleep for weeks,” Matt said as he strummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

Kris grunted in agreement from the passenger side. Snores from the back filled the SUV. They were sitting in traffic on the way back to Los Angeles. Matt took over driving duties since he claimed to be too hyper to sleep. Kris was doing his best to stay awake and make sure Matt focused on driving.

“Ugh, maybe we should have flown,” Kris grumbled.

“Not the same, dude,” Matt replied. “Plus, it was all about the road trip. The four of us driving through the desert. Seeing the lights of the Vegas Strip as the hills disappeared and a welcoming mirage hitting us as we reach paradise. Being able to come and go as we wanted.”

Kris snorted, “Paradise?” Kris adjusted his seat a little more, “At least we all could have slept for a bit.”

Matt blew out a raspberry, “Sleep? Are you kidding me? It’s a 45 minute flight. And you’re telling me you’d sleep at the gate with all the friggin’ travelers? Plus, I wouldn’t want to risk having a hung over pilot.”

Kris laughed this time, “You’re reading too many disaster tabloids.”

“Hey, you’re not driving, so shut up.” Matt fiddled with the radio. “Fuck, where’s the iPod? Radio out here sucks.”

“It’s in Cale’s bag, which is all the way in the back, along with the aux cord.”

“Great. Well, then, I guess you’ll have to tell me what the fuck happened to you last night.”

Kris froze and made a show of stretching out his legs, “What are you talking about?”

“After midnight…Charles and I were chatting up some ladies. I turned to get you, and you were gone. Next thing I know, we’re all waking up from being passed out in our room. I knew where the other guys were in the club, but not you.”

“I was around. Didn’t have any place to go,” Kris hedged. “Plus, I was in the room when you all got back from the party.”

“No, no, no,” Matt argued back. “You disappeared at the party. We were looking for you. So I wanna hear the scoop.”

“Nothing to tell.”

“Uh-huh…” Matt said. He glanced over to study Kris’s face. “That why you have stubble burns on your face and a giant hickey the size of Delaware on your neck?” Matt chuckled, “Which, you aren’t doing a very good job of hiding, by the way.”

Kris fiddled with the collar of his shirt and turned his head to stare out the passenger side window. His blush was climbing up his neck at a rapid pace and he knew his ears were burning red at the tips.

“Hope he was at least hot and not a drunk ass,” Matt said and turned back to the road.

Traffic finally cleared up as they drove over the curvy roads of Cajon Pass and headed onto the wide expanse of freeway. Kris closed his eyes.

“Get some sleep Kris. Should be home in a little over an hour; I’ll drop you off first.”

**

Kris looked up into the evening sky and watched as clouds moved in from the West. The long week of gray skies and rain had finally let up, but it didn’t look like it would stay away for very long.

The last couple weeks after New Year’s weekend in Vegas with the guys took its toll mentally. Kris couldn’t get his shit together. The guys kept harassing him, until he finally told them what happened at the party. As he spilled the story out one night over too many beers, it dawned on Kris that it was just a drunken night at a club. He was making a big deal out of nothing.

A hot guy, an even hotter kiss.

But, memories of that night kept creeping into his subconscious, irritating him for some reason.

Kris would imagine seeing the mystery man during lunch. Or while he was stuck in traffic. Random strangers kept popping in and out of his vision, alarming him, causing him to crash into other people or nearly running a red light. But when Kris looked again, it was just another dark-haired man. Nothing even remotely close to that guy. Who knew Los Angeles was full of tall men with a shock of black hair? When he was out with his friends, Charles would mock him incessantly about this new obsession. If they only knew.

He sighed heavily and kept walking. The weather was definitely an indicator of his mood the last few days. A gust of wind blew so hard it helped him skip a few feet up the sidewalk. He tightened his grip on his guitar case and duffle bag, huddled deeper into his coat and moved faster.

The streets were empty at this time of night, as they always were. Downtown Los Angeles became a ghost town after 7:00PM. A few errant cars and even less people on the streets as soon as the sun disappeared over the high-rise buildings.

He sprinted up the stairs to get his car, not wanting to wait for the rickety elevator of the parking garage. He was running late, an annoying customer call keeping him past his shift.

Kris needed to get to the Viceroy Hotel in Santa Monica for his gig, and didn’t want to be late. It was his third time there, and even though it was a hotel lounge gig, it was a gig and could be a regular thing. Their piano guy, Scott, would probably already be there waiting. Sometimes it sucked being a struggling musician.

**

Adam leaned back into the overstuffed chair and closed his eyes. He didn’t stir when Tommy and Jack plunked down in the chairs across from him or when the background music stopped.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jack asked.

“Just a mild headache. My last meeting…ugh,” Adam groaned in reply. He opened one eye, “Why’d the music stop, by the way?”

Jack shrugged, “Wednesday night. Monte thought he’d try to have some different genres of live music to add more atmosphere or whatever.”

“Any good?”

“Guy isn’t bad. Cool mash-ups and acoustic takes of some pop songs. He and Scott seem to get along, and the dude actually got Scott to get out of his wannabe jazz and easy listening shit, so…”

Adam closed his eyes again and grimaced, “As long as it’s not death metal. I don’t think I can deal with that right now.”

“Here,” Jack said and leaned across the table. “Belvedere and club soda, extra lime. Drink up. It’ll make you feel better. Or at least make you more personable.”

“Fuck you.”

“You wish.” Jack turned to Tommy. “What the fuck’s his problem lately?”

Tommy took a swig of beer, his blond hair flying back a bit, and shrugged his shoulders, “Dunno.”

“He’s been in a mood for weeks now.”

“He is right here,” Adam stated. He took the glass and drank half of it in one go and slammed it down. “And, work’s been a pain. I can be in a bad mood if I want to.”

Jack rolled his eyes, “Wah. Wah. Pretty rich boy suddenly has to work. Welcome to where the rest of us have been for years asshole.”

Tommy stood up, “You guys want another? I think we all need another round. Same shit for everyone?”

Adam smirked and nodded, “Yeah, sure. Let’s have it.”

Jack stood up, “I’ll go with you. Maybe when he catches sight of the new singer, his panties will no longer be stuck up his ass, but be all twisted up instead.”

“I don’t see fresh drinks in your hands and your mouths are still moving, but not your feet,” Adam retorted.

**

Kris straightened his sweater and adjusted his shirt. Taking a deep breath, he took one final look at himself in the mirror.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

He grabbed his duffel bag and guitar case and tucked them into the corner of the office. He slung his guitar behind him, walked down the hallway and took his place on the stool next to the piano. He settled into place and nodded to Scott.

“You ready, dude?” Scott asked.

“Always,” Kris replied with a smile.

The first week was awkward when Scott was forced to accompany him on a few songs. The guy was a genius on the piano, but didn’t take too kindly to the types of arrangements Kris wanted to do. After a short talk after their set, Scott just walked away. The following week, Scott nodded to him and they were playing like they had played together for years. They had spoken briefly again afterwards. This week, Kris knew that Scott was ready for anything. He had emailed the possible set-list to Scott a few days ago and didn’t hear back, so he figured it was okay.

Kris looked around the room and assessed the crowd. It looked like a mellow night, mostly 9-to-5ers with loosened ties and suit jackets thrown onto the backs of chairs. All the tables were full and there was a small gathering of people around the bar, mostly women trying to flirt with the bartender.

He leaned over to Scott, “Looks like everyone is feeling like ‘thank God, the week’s almost over’ tonight.”

Scott smiled, “Yeah. Was thinking that.”

“I guess this week’s set-list will work, huh? On three then…One…Two…”

**

Adam was buzzed and still in a foul mood, but in a half-ass-drunk kind of way. This singer, whoever he was, wasn’t helping with his angsty music about heartbreak. Fucking “With or Without You” and “Only When You Leave” shit. There was nothing wrong with jazz standards that the awkward and not-so-pretty-to-look-at piano guy played. He’d have to talk to Monte about it.

Adam lowered his arms from his eyes and tried to focus on Jack and Tommy. Jack with his black hair tied back, winking at the women at the bar. His hipster tweed jacket and torn jeans that looked like something from the Salvation Army but easily cost over three hundred. Tommy with his blond hair falling over his eyes, smiling shyly at the girls in the corner. Fuck them both.

Adam squinted. Wait, Tommy wasn’t pulling the shy smile act. He looked nervous. Why did Tommy look nervous? Why was he staring behind Adam at the musicians and then back at Adam?

He was about to sit up and look around when his phone rang. He was debating answering it when he saw it was Mike.

“What Mike?”

He heard Mike’s laughter, “Good to hear that you’re still as perky and chipper as ever.”

“Mike, I’m in a bad mood. What. Do. You. Want.”

“Get out of the bar to someplace quiet. I can barely hear you, and I doubt you’ll be able to hear me.”

“Fine, hold on.” Adam stood up and pointed to Jack and Tommy that he’d be outside. Tommy nodded, with what looked to be relief. Adam shook his head.

“Okay, fine. Lobby. What?”

“I wanted to let you know you might be having a security detail starting tomorrow.”

“What?” Adam looked around and stormed outside to the hotel’s driveway. “Okay. I obviously had more to drink than I thought I did, because I swore I just heard you say I’m going to have security guards on me?”

“Don’t shoot the messenger Adam. I only just found out about it and figured I give you a head’s up so you don’t go ballistic in the meeting tomorrow.”

“Why? What the fuck, Mike?”

Mike sighed, “I don’t know. But I think it has to do with the crazies that have been protesting some of the radio and TV stations. Your dad and the board agreed…”

“This. Is. Bullshit.”

“I know Adam, but just…it might be for the best.”

“The best for who?”

“You.”

“My stepfather gets into a shitload of trouble and now the rest of us have to deal with the fallout?”

“It’s only temporary…” Mike said, trying to calm Adam down.

“I…my mom…Neil…” Adam said forlornly. “What about them? Mike, what about you and Tommy? What’s going to happen?”

“It won’t be a big deal. You’ll be able to go about as you’ve always have.”

Adam laughed bitterly, “Yeah. That’s going to happen.”

**

A heat wave quickly displaced the fickle Los Angeles winter weather. Valentine’s Day promised to be in the low 80s, allowing restaurants to quickly add tables and chairs to the sidewalks.

Kris shook his head as waiters set up wobbly tables and chairs. He continued to walk up the street to Matt’s apartment building. The sudden burst of outdoor dining options eliminated the usually wide pedestrian space in this part of town. Kris had to navigate around the new barriers so his guitar and bag wouldn’t knock over precariously placed candles and flowers.

He wasn’t sure if he was going to join Matt and Cale at the Harlequin party later tonight, but their black-hearts dinner was fine. Charles, shockingly, had a Valentine’s date, so the three of them were going to have pizza and beer.

“I think we just need masks,” Cale was saying as Kris walked into the apartment.

“What’s going on?” Kris asked as he put everything down in a corner.

“Just trying to figure out how dressed up we need to be tonight,” Matt answered.

“It’s just a Valentine’s party. What’s the big deal?”

“You’re coming, right Kris?” Cale asked.

Kris shrugged, “I don’t think so. Masks, dressing up…”

Matt laughed, “I snagged these invites because I pimped you out, dude. You are so coming.”

Kris’s eyes widened. “What?” he sputtered.

Cale sat next to him on the couch and patted his head, “Matt’s new client is throwing the party. The only way Matt could get an invitation was to say he was besties with a cute, gay guy.”

“He’s a nice guy, and a little too much on the fabulous side. But…he knows a shit-ton of people, and he’s got hot, and I mean hot girlfriends,” Matt huffed. “Plus, we’re all single, so it wouldn’t hurt to meet more people.”

“Have fun without me, tonight,” Kris laughed and got up. “Where’s the beer and pizza?”

“Oh, you’re coming out with us,” Matt said. “Even if we have to drag you out of here, you’re coming.”

Cale chuckled, “We could always tie him up. From what you’ve said, Brad would probably appreciate that.”

Matt pretended to think about it, “Now that you mention it…”

“Har har, guys. Seriously, where’s the food?” Kris yelled from the kitchen.

“On its way. Beer’s in the fridge,” Matt shouted as he headed down the hall. “We’re leaving at ten.”

**

Adam was scowling. He knew he needed to stop, but the days had not been kind to him, and he almost didn’t come out tonight. His bad mood was just getting worse by the hour.

The security detail turned out to be three bodyguards who changed shifts every eight hours. They weren’t too bad, staying out of sight. But that wasn’t the point. Adam knew they were there. He couldn’t just go out to a club and dance the night away. On the plus side, they drove, so when Adam did go out, he was able to get shit-faced and not have to worry about driving home. And because he couldn’t just make out or get a quickie blow-job in a bathroom stall anymore without a fucking bodyguard watching over them, he got drunk-a lot.

And so, tonight, he was at the party alone. Well, as alone as one could be with a looming giant guarding his every move. Tommy was out with his girlfriend and Mike was out with his wife. That left Adam alone. Thank god for Brad and his silly party. At least it would look like Adam had a social life, even if he was alone and single this year.

Brad’s party had essentially taken over the Liquid Kitty. Known for their strong martinis and fire shots, it was pretty much what Adam needed. Plus, he knew Brad would have a supply of pretty people to look at and possibly prettier boys to play with. Too bad everyone had masks on.

Adam smirked and thought about it. Maybe masks weren’t so bad. He’d be anonymous in the crowd, in case someone wanted to play paparazzi. And, at the end of the night, he wouldn’t be hung up on some stranger and not be able to get his face out of his system. If anything happened tonight, it would be a quick and dirty romp in a club. Then, if the boy got too clingy, the bodyguard could shoo him away.

Tonight might not be so bad after all.

Adam launched himself off the wall to get a drink. People turned to stare. He knew he was a sight tonight. He shellacked his hair into a giant pompadour so the red and gold highlights stood out against the ordinary black mask. He wore a blood red shirt, black slacks with a thin black tie-a demon out of GQ-and stepped purposely to the bar.

He waded through the feathers, the glitter and the tight white shirts, deftly avoiding the grabby hands of some of the women. He laughed when one clung to his back. He lifted her hands and kissed her knuckles lightly, “Sorry, darling. You don’t have the bits I prefer.” He put his hand on her shoulders lightly and turned her to the doorway just as three men had walked in and stopped at the entrance. “There, see? One or all of them would be perfect for you.”

She giggled and lifted her face to kiss his cheek, “I guess it is true, all the gorgeous ones are gay. Too bad for me, but lucky for the other hot boys in here.”

“Lucky for the other boys in here that you’re just as gorgeous.”

“Oh, and you’re sweet to boot.” She blew him a kiss and headed to the newbies.

He watched her make her way through the crowd. Adam crooked his head and tried to take another look at the men who walked in. The shorter of the three-with mussed up brunette hair that looked soft enough to run his hands through, to pull back and expose his throat-seemed familiar somehow. Something about that one tugged at Adam’s memories. He didn’t know why or how. He rolled his eyes at himself, shook it off and headed back to the bar.

“I need to get laid,” he mumbled.

**

Matt and Cale literally dragged Kris through the heavy doors of the Liquid Kitty. He fixed his mask and tried to see in the dark space.

“Where the hell are we?” he whispered into Matt’s ear.

“Liquid Kitty,” Matt answered. “Never been here, but heard they serve great drinks. Damn, Brad wasn’t kidding when he said hot people.”

Cale whistled appreciatively under his breath as two women with sequined shorts and feather-covered bustiers walked by. “No kidding. Have I said thank you yet, Matt?”

Matt laughed, “You’re welcome.”

“Matthew!” a voice squealed. “You made it!” A man Kris’s size bounded up to them and grabbed them all in giant hugs like they were long lost friends.

He perused them up and down, “Not bad for straights. The masks are blah, but I’m sure next year, you’ll make it up to me.” He looked at the three of them again, “Wait, where’s the cute gay one you were telling me about?”

Matt laughed and pointed to Kris who was trying to slip behind Cale. “Brad, that’s Kris and this is Cale. Cale, Kris, this is Brad.” Brad hand went up for a quick hello to Cale then reached out to grab Kris.

Kris watched as Brad pursed his lips and walked blithely around him. Kris started to sweat from what felt like an inspection. He was waiting for his shins to get kicked. He thought his white shirt, black tie and vest were fine, not overly done, but enough that he didn’t look like a slob. Brad pierced his thoughts with a, “I could do so much to help you, sweetie.”

“I…I, uh. Yeah, I don’t think I need help,” Kris stuttered.

Brad laughed, “Oh darling. This is going to be so much fun!” He grabbed Kris’s arm, turned to Matt and Cale. “You breeders go find your girls,” he grinned. “I got this one,” and scrunched his nose, then led Kris into the belly of the den.

“Kris, Kris, Kris,” Brad was repeating his name like a mantra.

Kris didn’t know whether to respond since he wasn’t actually being addressed or being asked a question.

“I think I’m going to volunteer to be your fairy godfairy,” Brad exclaimed.

Kris shook his head slightly, “What? My what?”

“I’m going to take you under my wing and make you into the fabulous, hot gay boy I know you can be.” Brad snickered. “I get my own real-life Barbie doll!”

“I don’t…uh, no. I don’t think so,” Kris stated flatly.

Brad pouted, “Aww come on. Let’s have some fun. Matt says you’re single. You’re not exactly hitting all the hot spots, and you’re hanging out with straight men that have zero fashion sense. They’re cute, of course, but they could use some fixin’ uppin’.”

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“I teach you, then you go back to that world and teach them. Together we can make Los Angeles so much more attractive and fashion-forward.”

Kris laughed, “Pay It Forward meets Queer Eye for the Straight Guy?”

Brad shrugged, “Something like that.” He pulled Kris’s arm. “Come on slow poke, I see someone I want you to meet.”

**

“Well fuck, how that giant of a man can disappear so suddenly is still beyond me,” Brad whined.

“Yeah, um, I should go find Matt and Cale,” Kris said and tried to dislodge Brad’s grip on his elbow.

“Not until you have a drink, sweets,” Brad said tartly. “Plus, Adam might come back since he’s such a vodka whore.”

“Who’s Adam?”

“He was standing right here a few minutes ago. I can’t believe he moved that fast and got through the crowd so quickly.”

“Maybe you could go find him? I’ll stay here by the bar and…”

“Oh honey,” Brad laughed. “You’re not leaving my sight until I say so. You’ll have a few drinks with me. Stir up the intrigue factor amongst the elite. You’ll be my mystery boy, and you’ll have dates lined up until you’re dizzy from all the dancing.”

“Uh, I don’t dance,” Kris said. He was trying desperately to find or say anything that would allow him to get out of Brad’s clutches.

Brad’s horrified face turned to Kris’s, “You don’t dance?”

Kris shook his head and tried not to laugh at the look of dismay and shock.

“How…why…Not even when you’re drunk?”

Kris made a face, “I wouldn’t really know? No one has said anything, but I don’t think so?” Kris paused and continued when he saw Brad open to mouth, “And, no, we’re not trying tonight.”

“Oh boo. You’re no fun.” Brad made a pout.

“You pout a lot,” Kris said and nodded to the bartender when their drinks arrived.

“You like it?”

“No, just…it’s fascinating for some reason. How you go from pout to laugh. It’s like you enjoy making exaggerated faces or something.”

Brad burst out laughing and started to choke. “You got me sweets. I’m an entertainer, it’s what I do. I find people’s reactions to what I do endlessly funny and hilarious.”

Kris raised his eyebrows, “If you say so.”

“Oh Adam would love you if you guys ever met.” Brad lifted his drink and clinked Kris’s glass. “I think it would delight me to no end.”

“Who is this Adam you keep referring to?”

**

Kris was never as happy as he was the moment when Brad’s other friends appeared and hogged his attention. Kris grabbed his third…no, fourth…drink and clumsily left Brad’s side. He stretched up on his toes hoping to see Cale or Matt, but to no avail.

He decided to start from the back of the bar and make his way to the front. He applauded himself for the logical process until he got bumped from both sides and got sandwiched in between two people. The bulk of his drink was now on his shirt and the skirt of the woman to his right, two lime wedges were stuck in the elaborate belt of the man on his left. At least it was vodka and soda water, so one of his few nice white shirts didn’t have a giant stain of whatever fruit juice he could have gotten.

“Great. Just great.”

“I’m so sorry. I’ll get you another drink,” the woman was saying. “I’m such a mess. Oh god.”

Kris shook his head and placed his empty glass into her hand. He wrapped his hands around hers, “It’s okay, really. Just…if you could take the glass away? I’m going to the bathroom.”

She nodded furiously, “Of course, of course. I’m so sorry.”

Kris smiled and picked at his shirt to get the wet fabric off his skin. Between the sweat on his face from the mask and now his wet shirt, Kris was thinking a shower would have been easier. He pushed on the bathroom door, but felt himself pulled back into the corner where the employees’ only door was.

“Dude, I only want to get some paper towels,” he protested. “Not trying to cut the line for a leak.”

“Shut up.”

Kris straightened up and tried to get away from the corner, but a big, warm hand clasped his shoulder. Kris shook at the sensation of this stranger’s hand. He knew this hand. He looked up to see blue eyes boring intensely into his.

“It’s…”

Kris didn’t finish his sentence as lips descended on his. His wet shirt forgotten, Kris kissed back. His arms wrapped around the man and he lifted up on his toes to get closer. The kiss felt so good, their lips fitting together strong, insistent, as if they were waiting for their two owners to meet up again.

Kris groaned as the sensations he had tried to shove away came roaring back, spreading through his body, heating it. He bit the man’s lips as a tongue tried to lick its way into Kris’s mouth. Kris opened his mouth just slightly and was rewarded with the taste that Kris hadn’t forgotten since he had first tasted it. Their tongues battled furiously, and Kris didn’t realize they moved until his back hit the wall with a small thud, the ricochet of his body making his stomach slam into the man’s groin.

Kris’s body vibrated with need. His hands smoothed down over the man’s chest, and Kris felt the erratic staccato of the heartbeat, fast and furious. The man’s hands carded through his hair. Kris’s head was pulled back and the man’s lips left his, the warmth gone. Kris whimpered at the loss, but shuddered as the rough tongue made its way down his throat. The heated mouth stopped right behind his earlobe, and Kris felt the tip of the man’s tongue making small circles that made his toes curl.

Kris lowered his hands until his fingers grabbed the belt loops and pulled the man in closer, tighter. His breathing was shallow and hard, lungs burning at the sensation of oxygen.

“I…” Kris’s voice got stuck, as he tried to get words out. Painfully, he pushed the man away from him. “I…I can’t do this.” He shook his head, trying to steady himself. “Not again.”

With a final shove, he ran down the dimly lit hall and out to the main area of the bar. If the man chased after him, Kris didn’t know. He just knew he needed to get out.

**

Adam ripped off his mask and pounded the back of his head against the wall, barely noticing the glitter falling off him and onto the floor.

He had found him. The guy from New Year’s Eve. Actually, Brad had found him, and Adam had lost him.

He raised his hand and covered the spot over his chest where the man had placed his hand. The hand that felt like it left a permanent brand over his heart. He had meant to talk to him. Find out his name, hear his voice, listen to him talk. Instead, Adam had pounced on him. Pounced on that bottom lip that drove him to distraction every night since Vegas. The soft brown eyes that darkened with heat and made Adam lose every train of thought.

Adam turned his head to look down the hallway. He did get to hear his voice. Soft, deep and with a hint of a Southern lilt. The butterflies in his stomach went into action just remembering how it sounded.

“I see you’ve met, then scared away our little Kris,” Brad said approaching him slowly. Brad stopped a few feet away and played with a box. The darkened hallway lit up letting Adam make out the features of his ex-boyfriend, who had long ago taken off his mask.

“What?” Adam asked, shocking himself with how his voice seemed so scratched when he barely spoke all night.

“The little guy who ran out of here like his pants were on fire?” Brad stopped, turned to the door then laughed. “I guess his pants were on fire if he was back here with you.”

“I can’t deal with this right now, Brad.” Adam tried to walk past Brad, but was stopped with a firm arm around his waist.

“Oh, no you don’t, princess,” Brad replied disdainfully. “I need to hear this.”

“Hear what?”

“What did you do to Kris? And why did he run out of here like the hounds from Hell were after him?”

Adam ran his hands through his hair, not caring that it messed up the perfect height. “I didn’t do anything,” he retorted, frustration in his voice.

“That’s not what it looked like,” Brad responded in a sing-song voice.

“His name is Kris, huh?” Adam asked quietly.

“Yeah, sweets. A little skittish, but seems like a nice guy. But, then most of us from the South are, so…” Brad paused, “What’s the deal, Adam?”

“It was him, okay?”

“Him, who?” Brad eyes opened wide as it hit him. “Oh shit. That’s him? Vegas boy?”

Adam nodded miserably.

“Well, damn.”

“I know.”

**

“Help me track him down, you asshole,” Adam shouted. He paced around his penthouse condo in downtown LA. The floor-to-ceiling windows glinted in the fading sunlight from the west and cast a soft orange and pink glow around the room.

“Princess, you be nice and watch your language, otherwise you’re not getting any help from me,” Brad snapped back. He watched the sun set over the high-rise buildings as he sat on the cushions by the windows. “Plus, each day that passes and you stay in your boorish mood, is yet another day wasted in which I may or may not decide to…”

“Brad…”

“Adam…”

“Fine,” Adam relented. “What do you want?”

“Tell me about him. You’ve been avoiding me for the last week.”

Adam grabbed his wine glass and settled in next to Brad, leaning his back against the windowed walls. “What do you want to know,” he said softly. “You probably know more about him than I do. I didn’t even know his name.”

Brad leaned forward to kiss Adam’s temple. “Start at the beginning. What about him has you in a tizzy like this? I’ve known you forever, and no guy, except me of course, has made you this insane.”

Adam smiled and patted Brad’s knee. “I don’t know.” Adam held his hand up, “Let me finish.” He took another sip of his wine and set the glass down between them. “I saw him there at the New Year’s Eve party. Him and his friends, just goofing around. He kind of stood back from them. He was so happy, yet…” Adam shrugged. “I don’t know. He seemed like he was lonely, too. He was feeling what I was feeling.”

“You’re not alone, sweetheart,” Brad whispered.

“I know. I have you, Mike, Tommy, family, all my other friends and everyone else, but at the end of the day, I’m here alone, aren’t I? Mike’s married. Tommy is ridiculous with Brooke. You…the others…well…you know.” Adam patted Brad’s head as he laid it down on his shoulder.

Brad sighed, “I know, sweets. Doesn’t have to be that way.”

Adam snorted, “I’m too old to be having orgies with strangers in my place. Plus, with the new position, the shit-storm my step-father created…”

Brad grimaced, “Oh yeah, that.”

“Yeah, that. I needed to get away and Vegas was the closest. You were in Texas. So, I had Monte help get me VIP tickets to Mix. Mike and Tommy weren’t happy, but there we were.” Adam closed his eyes as he recalled that night. “All night, couldn’t keep my eyes off him. I felt like a creeper at one point. Eventually, I was sober enough to go to him.”

“Then?” Brad prodded.

Adam shrugged, “You know the rest.”

“A quickie, huh? Thought you outgrew that, Adam, around the same time as the orgies.”

Adam smacked Brad’s knee, “It wasn’t like that. Next thing I know, I was pulled away. And, here we are.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Until my party.”

Adam chuckled, “Yeah, until your party.”

“At least now you know his name.”

“We can’t call him Vegas boy anymore you know.”

Brad swiped the wineglass and took a small sip, “He’ll always be Vegas boy to me.”

“Are you going to help me or what?”

“Oh darling, of course I am!” Brad paused dramatically. “Trust me.”

Adam leaned his head back against the window and pinched the bridge of his nose, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

**

The knocking turned into outright pounding. Kris grabbed his robe and made his way across his studio to open the door.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” Cale shouted as he brushed past Kris to get inside.

Kris looked out into the hallway, and not seeing anyone else, closed the door. He tightened the robe around himself and shuffled to the kitchenette.

“You disappeared from the party, called out sick at work. You don’t answer your fucking phone…”

“I am sick. I have a cold or something. I’m fine, obviously,” Kris said wearily. He put the kettle on to make his tea.

He was sick. Sick to his stomach that he had made out with a random stranger, not once, but twice. Just went at it like he had no control over his hormones. He didn’t even get the guy’s name. If he hadn’t stopped the other night, he would have lost control again. It’s something he didn’t want nor need to happen ever again.

“Matt said Brad was asking about you,” Cale said, changing the subject.

Kris frowned, “Why?”

“Something about meeting up with his friend Adam, and hanging out. I don’t know.”

“Did you want tea?”

“No, thanks. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Kris sighed as he leaned against the counter, “I’m fine. Just wasn’t feeling well, but I’m in one piece. Okay? You didn’t have to drive all the way up here to check up on me. I’m going back to work tomorrow. I’ll be at the Viceroy playing on Thursday. Friday, I’ll be at Claude’s to meet you guys for dinner. Back to business as usual.”

Cale shook his head, “No, I don’t think so. Something else is up and you’re keeping it from us. From me, Kris.”

Kris avoided Cale’s look by busying himself with pulling a mug and tea from the cabinet. The kettle screeched for attention and Kris silently thanked it for its good timing.

“Talk to me Kris.”

Kris concentrated on his tea. He poured the honey in slowly and stirred the hot water carefully, not hitting the sides of the mug.

“Kris.”

He heard the scrape of the chair at the kitchen table against the window. This studio wasn’t much, but it had amazing hard wood floors and huge windows that looked over south Los Angeles and part of the valley to the east. There was no way Kris would be good enough for the amazing mystery man with his amazing clothes and his amazing hair and probably his amazing job and amazing house and amazing friends.

Kris shouldn’t want more than what he had. He was happy and comfortable and working hard, both at his menial job at the travel agency booking vacations that he would never be able to take and hustling for gigs around town and having his music heard. All it took was a road trip to Vegas to start his year off with a yearning for something he’d never have. Someone he’d never have.

“Kris…”

“I’m fine Cale,” Kris said with relative calm, as he moved over to the windows next to the table where Cale was sitting. He avoided Cale’s eyes and drank his tea, hands steady, not betraying the turmoil and sadness he felt.

It was hard enough to break off the engagement three years ago. Harder still moving out to LA after realizing that he was having what people called a quarter-life crisis. At the age of 25, he finally realized that he preferred men, that he wanted to sing professionally, and that he wanted out of his life in Arkansas. But he had done it. He had found and made friends who hailed from various small towns, same as him. He was surviving. He was happy.

He didn’t need to want like this. He didn’t need to crave things he shouldn’t have. And he definitely didn’t need a certain someone he couldn’t have.

One night fucked it all up for him. And for that he’d never forgive the dark-haired stranger or himself.

**

“I’m not going to another party that Brad invited you to,” Kris said flatly. “Why do I need to go? I don’t feel like getting gussied up.”

Kris was flipping through the channels at Matt’s apartment. They were waiting for Charles and Cale to show up before heading over to Claude’s. The minute he walked in, Matt started harassing him about Brad’s next party.

“What’s the big deal? He likes you. He’s a nice guy,” Matt argued. “Plus the party is in downtown this time, practically down the street from your place.”

“I’m sure he’s a nice guy, but I don’t feel like going. Are you two like BFFs now or something? Ever since the Valentine’s party, you’re all ‘Brad this’ and ‘Brad that’ and jeez, maybe you should date him or something.”

“He’s a nice guy, and he’s funny!”

Kris shrugged, “Whatever.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Kris said and stared back at the television.

“Say whatever it is you want to say.”

“It’s just weird all of a sudden, the last two months, you’ve been hanging out with him and…” Kris stopped. “I don’t know. I just didn’t think you and he would get along so well and become fast friends is all.”

“He’s a great guy. Plus, because of him, I’ve had more dates in the last month then I’ve had all of last year. So suck it, solo boy.”

Kris laughed, “Him just setting you up on one date qualifies for more than you’ve had in the last year, dude.”

Matt threw a Nerf ball at Kris, which he knocked away. “Jackass.”

“Whatever. Not saying anything else. Still not going to the party though.”

Matt was about to say something else, but Cale and Charles burst through the door.

“Fine, fine. You’re coming for pizza and beer on Saturday right?”

Kris stopped his beer mid-way to his mouth, “You are kidding right?” And lifted his bottle up in mock salute.

Matt laughed, “Of course. What was I thinking?”

**

Brad sauntered over to where Adam sat, sulking in the chair.

“I told you he wasn’t coming, sweets.”

Adam lifted one shoulder, “Thought, maybe…”

“I don’t even know Vegas boy that well, but I could have told you he’s a stubborn bastard. Matt said he wouldn’t be coming, and he didn’t.”

Adam played with the condensation on his glass and downed the rest of the whiskey. “Thanks for trying. I’m going to head home.”

“Come with me next Saturday to Matt’s pizza and beer,” Brad shuddered “thing. I’m sure Kris will definitely be there.”

Adam stood up and kissed Brad on the cheek, “Maybe.”

**

The May weather in LA was more like summer everywhere else in the country. The loft where Brad had his party was just a short distance from Adam’s own place on Hill Street, so he decided to walk. Fuck his bodyguard. He could walk too.

Adam shoved his sweater into his messenger bag and started to head down Seventh Street until he hit Fifth Street, and walked slowly through Pershing Square. He walked through downtown all the time, so didn’t feel uncomfortable going through the still-shady parts now. The heels of his boots clicked against the cracks in the sidewalk.

He stopped in front of Red Door Blue Door and debated going inside for a drink. It was still early enough that he didn’t want to go home. He motioned to his bodyguard who stood passively a few feet away. Adam heard live singing and decided to go in.

“Adam, long time no see buddy!” a gravelly voice greeted him.

“Frankie!” Adam hugged him back. “How are things?”

“Good. Can’t complain,” Frankie’s raspy voice replied. “Who’s that?” he nodded to the hulking man hovering by the door.

“Security,” Adam sighed. “Apparently…”

Frankie held up a hand, “Say no more. I read the papers, boy.” He shrugged and pulled Adam into a corner booth by the bar where Frankie could see the entire bar. “Preventative measures are for the best sometimes.”

Adam twisted his lips and made a face, “You sound like Mike and my father.”

Frankie laughed and coughed, “Funny. Belvedere soda extra limes, right kid?”

Adam nodded and twisted his head to find the source of music, “Since when do you have live music here Frankie?”

“Kid lives upstairs. Comes in once in a while for a beer. Came in a few weeks ago with a guitar strapped to him. Looked like he was having a bad day. Guess a gig didn’t come through or something,” Frankie settled back into the booth. “Asked him to play something. Some of the regulars actually paid attention. Told him whenever he’s bored he could come in and just play.”

Adam smiled and listened, “He’s good.”

Frankie nodded, “Yeah, I ain’t paying him or nothing, but he can say that he’s got a regular gig here and the occasional free drink.”

“I knew you were a softie underneath that gruff exterior.”

“Tell anyone, and I’ll cut you Lambert. Don’t care whose kid you are.”

Adam laughed and pretended to seal his lips, “I know nothing.” Adam took a small sip of his drink that the waitress dropped off. He looked around the bar, “Where’d you stick him anyway? I can’t see him.”

Frankie pointed to a back corner where the wood paneling created a cozy nook, “Back there. Otherwise, the music won’t carry.”

“Can’t see shit from here, Frankie.”

“Who cares if you can’t see? I can from my spot. Plus, no one has to see him. As long as the music’s good,” Frankie shrugged.

I don’t know you
But I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me…

“Oh, this is gorgeous,” Adam said dreamily.

Adam slipped out of his side of the booth and walked behind Frankie to get a peek at the singer. He choked on his drink and moved quickly back to the booth.

“You okay Adam?”

Adam coughed and sputtered, “Yeah. Fine. Just went down the wrong pipe.” He cleared his throat, “I should get going Frankie.”

“Why? You just got here. I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Adam couldn’t think of an answer fast enough.

Frankie eyed him and smiled, “You ain’t going anywhere. Finish your drink, and then you’ll have another.” He leaned back into the booth. “Then if you’re nice, I’ll introduce you to the kid. His name’s Kris.”

**

Kris finished playing “The Scientist” to a smattering of applause. He smiled even though not many of the patrons could see him. That wasn’t the point. He was singing and playing. In this hidden nook, he could just be.

And even better, Frankie, the owner, didn’t care what he played or for how long. Once in a while, Frankie would tell him something sucked, so Kris would either take it out of his set or work to improve it. Who knew that the crotchety old man could be such a critic? But Kris couldn’t deny his critiques and assessment were spot on.

Kris decided to finish off the night with a cover of “Falling Slowly.” It had been an earworm for him since Charles’ girlfriend talked about the Once movie and the soundtrack a few weeks ago. And naturally, whenever he thought about the song and its lyrics, Kris’s mind veered to the man he needed to get out of his head.

…Raise your hopeful voice
You had a choice
You’ve made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody
I’ll sing it loud

As he finished the song, silence filled the room. He opened his eyes to see Frankie standing in front of him beaming and clapping, leading the paltry claps and whistles in the bar.

“That was beautiful kid,” Frankie stated.

Kris rubbed the back of his neck, “Uh, thanks Frankie.” He looked at the man and his tanned, wrinkled face. “Is there something wrong?”

“No. Get your stuff together. Have someone I want you to meet.” With that he walked away, obviously expecting no argument.

Kris wrinkled his eyebrows as he put his guitar away and unplugged the wires from the amplifier and speakers around his stool. Frankie never came up to him like that. Definitely never clapped or gave him compliments. He barely even looked at Kris when he was done. Just grunted as Kris waved good-bye.

Curious, he grabbed his guitar case and headed to Frankie’s corner booth. Kris was even more alarmed when he saw Frankie’s face lit up and smiling, hands waving around to whoever he was talking to. Kris couldn’t see who sat opposite him without leaning over and looking like an ass. He took in a deep breath and approached the table.

Frankie turned his head and had a look on his face Kris couldn’t read. He waved Kris closer and left his seat.

“Sit, kid.”

Kris was confused. He set his guitar down against the wall next to the booth, and sat down. He finally got a look at who Frankie was talking to and felt himself turn bright red.

“Kris, this is Adam. Adam, this is Kris.” He leaned over the table and stared at Kris then Adam, who was fidgeting with a napkin. “Behave.” With that, he left them alone.

Kris rubbed the back of his neck and tried to will the blood away from his face. His head was swimming, the world was too small for him right now.

“I should leave,” Adam said. He finished his drink and was grabbing his wallet.

“Uh, hey,” Kris said, startled out of his silence. “You…you don’t have to go.”

Adam finished grabbing bills from his wallet and placed them on the table. He shook his head, “This…this is weird. Awkward, to say the least. I…”

“No, don’t,” Kris insisted. “Please,” he said quietly.

**

Adam heard the song end, but couldn’t move. Each word pierced him, making a thin cut into his heart. He was aware that Frankie was grinning like a fool, but Adam couldn’t think.

When Frankie got up, clapping and smiling, Adam got nervous. Frankie never applauded anyone. He also never invited anyone he didn’t know personally to his booth. This fact unnerved Adam. Adam would’ve bolted out the door, but his legs started to jitter under the table so bad he doubted he could make it to the door, never mind walk home. So he took another big gulp of his drink and motioned for the waitress for another.

Frankie made sure Kris sat down, but Adam knew he hadn’t noticed him yet. He knew the exact moment he did though, as Kris’s big brown eyes got even bigger and his face turned dark pink.

Frankie leaned heavily onto the table separating them, “Kris, this is Adam. Adam, this is Kris.” He eyed them one at a time and said, “Behave.” He headed to the bar.

Adam glanced over at his bodyguard who stood quietly by the bar, then at Kris who was rubbing the back of his neck and looking at everything except Adam.

After a few minutes of silence, Adam spoke, “I should leave.” He finished off the rest his drink, set the glass next to the other empty ones and grabbed his wallet.

“Uh, hey,” Kris said, finally responding. He cleared his throat “You…you don’t have to go.”

Adam pulled two twenties from his wallet and put them under a cardboard coaster. He shook his head, “This…this is weird. Awkward, to say the least. I…”

“No, don’t,” Kris insisted. “Please,” he said quietly. Adam jumped when Kris placed his hand over his.

Adam’s hand moved on its own volition, turning over to clasp Kris’s hand. He felt a small jerk as Kris tried to pull his hand, but didn’t let go. He watched as Kris continued to stare incredulously at their hands as their fingers entwined.

Kris raised his eyes to Adam’s. Adam saw confusion and the beginnings of panic. He squeezed their hands.

“Hi,” Adam said softly.

Kris smiled at that, “Hey.”

**

Kris moved around his studio in a daze. He had sat in the booth with Adam, left alone except the occasional water refill, which Frankie took on himself to provide them after he cleared away Adam’s three empty glasses.

Kris wasn’t sure that he could talk at the time, just knew that he was there, with Adam. He finally knew his name. He could make out all the features of Adam’s face and study the lines of his hands. Kris realized later that Adam was doing the same to him, blue eyes roaming all visible parts of him, as if memorizing them.

Until Adam’s phone rang, startling them from whatever trance they were in. He apologized and stepped outside. Kris took the moment to gather himself and guzzle down the water. When Adam came back in, he slid a business card across the table and offered to walk Kris up to his place. Kris grinned, considering it was just the other door of the building and up the stairs, but thought it was sweet.

Adam had leaned down making it seem like he would kiss Kris again, but pulled short and kissed his temple. He said goodnight and walked away, bodyguard shadowing his steps.

Kris stripped off his clothes, leaving a trail behind him as he went to the bathroom. He finally knew the name of the man who he couldn’t get out of his head, had spent time with him. He didn’t say everything he wanted to, hell, he didn’t say much of anything, but that wasn’t the point.

Kris left his sneakers and socks in a messy pile by the door and jumped into the shower. The cold spray of water shocked him back to the reality of right now. Adam. His name was Adam.

The spray eventually turned warm and Kris sighed, spinning under the water to get the goose bumps to fall back under his skin where they belonged. He let the hot flow of water relax muscles he didn’t realize were tense. Suddenly, he felt Adam’s hand on his neck. He automatically shifted his neck, reeling it back, feeling Adam’s strong fingers massaging the base of his neck, rifling through his wet hair. Kris moaned.

He breathed in the steamy air and let the sensation carry him. He grabbed the soap and started to wash himself, his skin sensitive to his own warm hands. He lathered himself and let the slick slide of his hands move down the curves of his arms, chest and legs. Heavy drops of the soapy lather slipped down his stomach, between his hardening cock and along his legs.

Kris couldn’t and didn’t want to stop his hand from wandering. He reached down and swept the underside of his cock, sensitive and rigid, seeking attention. He wrapped his palm around it, sliding his hand up, down and twisting, creating enough friction to want more. Kris closed his eyes with the image of Adam standing behind him, using his large hand to enclose around his erection, hard and tight.

Kris stroked himself, envisioning Adam all around him, rubbing him, pulling at him, kissing him, moaning his name. Kris faced the showerhead, welcoming the spray of the water. He placed a hand on the tiled wall in front of him, bracing himself against it. His cock was taut, stiff.

He pulled at himself slow and steady, then faster and tighter until his felt the fierce static-like pulses prickle his skin. He spread his legs and leaned into the wall as he picked up rhythm, white-hot throbs running up and down his back, forcing him to throw his head back.

Kris felt Adam’s phantom presence behind him, one arm wrapped around his waist, the other over Kris’s hand, stroking together. Kris grunted out Adam’s name as the orgasm hit him hard and intense, continuing to milk himself until he slumped to the shower floor. Adam’s name echoed in his head.

...continued...

PART II of II