New adam/kris fic: No
Holy hell, my real life is exhausting. I think that's the main reason it took me so long to produce this fic, the next in my list of owed Haiti auction fic. Something about the fic itself made it difficult, too, but I don't really know what! Having no laptop for 10+ days didn't help, either.:(
Anyway, at long last, here's my fic for koba_sama. Next up, my ficlets for ckalicka and kradamite! Let's see whether either of those can be kept to 500 words. Anyone care to wager that I can keep them super short? Yeah, I didn't think so. XD
Title: No
Pairing: Adam/Kris
Rating: R
Words: Ahahaha, another fic that was supposed to be 500 words. This one is ~5,500.
A/N: This was written for the very patient koba_sama, who generously donated during the ontd_ai fundraising drive for Haiti. Sorry it took so long! She said she's read a lot of fics where Kris isn't ready for a relationship at first, but when he is, Adam's always ready. She wondered what might happen if when Kris was ready, Adam wasn't. Thanks for the great prompt! Like all stories, it had a mind of its own, and its mind ended up being... quite sappy. Sorry? I hope you like it despite its high sugar content.<333
Beta thanks: To be honest, this story actually kicked my butt, for reasons completely unclear to me, and I'm not sure I won. Fortunately (I guess, lol), the wonderful lolitaray and melisande431 talked me out of chucking this thing out the window, and performed wonderful mistake-removal throughout. All mistakes are mine.
Summary: Kris has a tendency to procrastinate and fly under the radar. When he's finally read to try for something more than friendship with Adam, Adam is involved with someone else, and happy.
No
Kris fiddles with the wine menu and shifts in his seat. His other hand plays with the tickets in his pocket. He's nervous, but it's the kind that's exciting, heart tripping a little too quickly in his throat. It's cool, though. He's prepared. He knows what he wants to say.
Adam's late, of course. Nothing unexpected there. Kris is on his second glass of wine by the time his phone buzzes. Adam. He'll tell Kris how he got delayed putting on his makeup or helping Drake with his latest relationship or making Danielle laugh, and say he's two minutes away. He'll arrive breathless, laughing, smile just for Kris.
Only that's not what Adam says. "Kris, I'm sorry, but something's come up. I'd normally never do this to our Wednesday dinner date, but... You know how I was talking about Kevin, and how things have been going really great? Well, we kind of--"
Kris hears giggling in the background. "Stop it!" Adam stage-whispers to whoever it is--Kevin, then dissolves into laughter.
"No, that's--That's cool," Kris manages. "It's no big deal. I'll just--"
"I've got a boyfriend, a real boyfriend!" Adam half-sings. "Finally. I thought I was doomed to be alone unto all eternity! But he says...Well, we kind of committed last night, and it's good." There's a shuffling commotion and Adam's voice is decidedly husky when he talks again. "Really good."
Kris swallows. "Sure, that's. That's great. I'll--We can do this next time we're both in town, I think it's in couple of weeks?" His mouth is dry.
"Right, yeah, that's what I figured. Thanks for understan--Oh, no you don't!" Adam says, laughing, to Kevin.
"Yeah, man, well, I'm gonna run, 'cause something came up for me, too, so..."
"Okay, sure," Adam says, obviously not paying attention any more.
The line goes dead. Kris stares at his phone for a long time, then finishes off the glass of wine and heads for the studio. That night when he's undressing, he pulls out the tickets from his pocket. He looks at them for a long moment. Story of his life: procrastination screwing things up.
He takes a deep breath. Adam's happy. Really happy, happier than he's seen him, like, ever. He throws the tickets into the trash.
Sometime around three a.m. he stumbles out of bed and retrieves them, sticks them under some socks in his drawer, in the back where he won't come across them.
He's going to be on the road more than he's going to be in L.A. anyway, and he figures with some time, he'll forget the whole thing. Before anything else, Adam's a friend, a brother. Kevin... Kevin is a sweetheart. He'll be good to Adam, and love him for himself. It's for the best anyway; Kevin doesn't have baggage and a tendency to melancholy, and he has all the relevant experience to make Adam's voice sound like that, deep and husky. Happy.
* * *
Adam's breakup with Kevin is rough. Kris finds him on his sofa crying over a General Hospital re-run, Ben & Jerry's cartons littering the coffee table. Kris sighs and sits down, wraps his arms around him.
After a while Adam pulls away. "Sorry. I just thought--it was really good, you know?"
Kris nods. "Yeah."
Adam quirks a smile, scrubbing at the mascara tracks on his face. "And the sex was sooo hot, too."
Kris rolls his eyes at him, but Adam continues. "Boy had kinks, I'm just saying."
"Okay, my work here is done," Kris says. "Don't get up. Enjoy your time with Ben and Jerry. I'll let myself out."
* * *
Kris lets a decent amount of time go by, then comes to Adam's house straight from the airport after a mini-tour of venues in the south. The thing he bought in New Orleans is burning a hole in his pocket and his heart is hammering hard, but he's going to do this, this time. He's tired of waiting, thinking about Adam all alone, going on first dates of his own because his mother bugs him too much if he doesn't; she's been so worried since the divorce.
"Kris!" Adam greets him at the door.
Kris's hand tightens around the thing in his pocket. The best approach is a direct one, he figures. He takes a deep breath and takes a step inside. "Adam, I--"
"Honey?" A voice from the bedroom. Shit. Someone's here with Adam. By the sound of the voice and the soft look in Adam's eyes, it's Kevin.
Adam shrugs apologetically at Kris. "We got back together yesterday. You were in mid-air so I hadn't texted you yet. He says this is for real, and I believe him." Adam is glowing.
"Oh." Kris's hand unclenches in his pocket. "That's--That's great! I'll just... Oh, crap." Kris belatedly realizes that Adam's wearing a pair of too-small sweats and nothing else. "I'm sorry, I should have called, I just--"
"No! You don't ever have to call. Never, not you. Though," Adam quirks an eyebrow at Kris, and the look goes straight to Kris's belly, "I can't guarantee that you won't see or hear something you don't want to. You're just lucky you weren't here a few minutes ago. Kevin had grabbed my--"
'Stop! I'm gonna need bleach for my brain!" Kris manages a laugh. "I'll see myself out. That's-- That's great about you and Kevin. Really. Really great."
When he gets home, he wads up the thing he'd been carrying in his pocket since New Orleans and stuffs it in the back of his drawer next to the tickets.
Adam is happy. That's what matters. He'll repeat that to himself for a while, until it sticks.
* * *
Kris takes a deep breath and stuffs the piece of paper in his pocket. He brings it to the restaurant he's meeting Adam at, rehearsing what he's going to say, because yeah, it could seem overwhelming if he doesn't introduce it all pretty carefully. That's okay, though; it's his time. Adam and Kevin have broken up again, and Kris has waited long enough. Adam has stopped tearing up when certain songs come on. He's stopped spamming Kris with morose musings about getting old alone.
It's time.
Kris actually gets as far as bringing the paper out of his pocket and putting it on the table they're sharing. His hands shake as he smoothes out the wrinkles, but hopefully Adam won't notice.
Adam doesn't notice, because he's looking at a message on his phone. "Oh, wow," he says, voice tender. "I didn't think he'd say yes."
"Say yes?"
Adam nods, keying in a response without looking at Kris. "I think we just have one of those relationships, you know, that's kind of, kind of dramatic? Maybe that's good, though, in a way, right? I decided I needed to put myself out there with him, lay it on the line. I think I'd been holding back." He smiles at his phone.
Kris looks at the paper on the table, then quickly stuffs it back in his pocket.
"Oh, hey, I'll check out your lyrics next time, okay? It's great you're writing so much!"
"Yeah, sure. Go ahead. I'm sure he's waiting for you." Kris nods at the check. "I'll take care of it."
Adam leaves in a rush. Kris closes his eyes for a minute, then breathes out. It just... isn't meant to be. Obviously. He's doomed to always be late in life, to everything. For god's sake, he couldn't even finish college in six years. Refusing to deal with their issues doomed him and Katy, too. Adam and him... Kris played around the edges of something with Adam for a long time, and he knows Adam felt something, too, but Kris just didn't step up when it counted.
He's not meant to have a chance with someone like Adam.
Kris orders a bottle of wine and drinks half of it, then hails a cab for WeHo. It's been a while since he's done anything like this, not that he's done anything quite like this, engaging in something like this in such a public place. It feels good. It kind of feels like he's been waiting, but now he's not waiting any more. Waiting hasn't gotten him shit in life, really.
The guy he brings home is tall and dark, and is on his knees before Kris gets the door all the way closed. Kris closes his eyes to the empty apartment around him and doesn't think about a sparkly laugh, brilliant blue eyes.
When the guy leaves, Kris puts the lyrics sheet in the drawer with the other stuff. He thinks about burning all of it, but decides against it in the end. He kicks the fucking thing closed, then kicks it again for good measure.
He's done with the whole thing. For real this time.
* * *
Kris knows he's completely over it when Adam asks him to help plan a party to celebrate his and Kevin's two year anniversary, and Kris is happy to. Happy to help Adam celebrate something that's brought him, overall, a lot of joy. They meet to plan it, giggling over some of the crazy ideas they come up with. A cake with an almost-naked boy in it, a stripper pole with an Adam-clone, a drag queen singing Disney tunes.
Kevin leaves Adam two nights before the party.
Adam doesn't cry this time, doesn't even want ice cream. He's just quiet, nibbling at the pasta Kris made him; Kris insisted Adam come over to Kris's place after he'd told Kris about Kevin. "I think--I think I'm too traditional for him or something," Adam says softly. "I just. When all is said and done, I'm a sap, you know?"
"Yeah," Kris says. "I just--I just want you to be happy. That's all I want."
Adam reaches for his hand and squeezes it. His eyes are warm on Kris.
Adam's phone rings and Adam glances at it. He smiles, but it's a little wistful, curled tight on the edges. "It's Kevin."
"Probably apologizing," Kris says.
"Should I answer it?" Adam bites his lip.
"Yeah, sure. Of course. If he makes you happy."
Adam smiles at Kris a little misty-eyed. "Such a friend to me, Kristopher Allen."
"You've always been one to me," Kris says. And Adam has, helping Kris through the separation and divorce, the full coming out to himself, the couple of short-lived relationships.
Adam's phone stops ringing and Kris takes a deep breath. Something feels weird in his throat. The phone buzzes. "A text," Adam says. "He's asking me to forgive him." He closes the phone and taps it on the arm of the sofa, biting his lip again.
The phone rings. Adam looks at it. His hand reaches for it, stops. He looks up at Kris, eyes asking his opinion.
"Yeah," Kris breathes, because Kevin is young and messed up, but he makes Adam so happy, most of the time.
Adam nods and blows out a breath. "Okay. Okay, then." He picks up the phone.
"No," Kris says.
Kris had no idea he was going to say anything. He didn't even know he wanted to say anything, not really.
Adam looks up sharply.
"No," Kris repeats, like he doesn't know any other words. "I have a drawer." He winces.
Adam wrinkles his forehead and looks hard at Kris, raises his eyebrows.
"I have--It's where I." Kris covers his eyes with his hand. He's forgotten all of that. He really, really has.
"A drawer?" Trust Adam to zoom in on the most embarrassing thing.
Adam's phone rings again and Adam mutes it, sticks it in his pocket. He scoots closer to Kris on the sofa. "Kris?"
"Forget it," Kris mumbles. "You should call him." He looks up at Adam. "Call him."
Adam's forehead wrinkles again. He reaches for the phone, then stops. "No. Not right now." He looks intently at Kris.
"Okay, no," Kris says. He doesn't know where these words are coming from. "Not until--Not until I tell you something. No."
"Kris?" Adam looks confused, emotions Kris can't identify flitting across his face in rapid succession.
Kris huffs out a breath. He closes his eyes. What he's considering, it's crazy, but. Kevin truly loves Adam and Adam loves him back, for real, but he's pulling Adam apart a piece at a time. And it turns out Kris hasn't forgotten any of that stuff, none of it. He pushes to his feet. "Come here."
Adam follows him into his bedroom, silent, eyes big.
Kris runs his fingers across the dent in the dresser from where he kicked it, then pulls out the drawer. "There."
"Socks?" Adam says.
"Forget it." Kris moves to shut the drawer, but Adam blocks his hand.
"What. The. Hell."
Kris bites his lip. If this makes things weird between them, if he loses Adam as a friend, he just. He can't even--It hurts too much to think about it. But. He takes a breath, lets it out. "Under the socks." He disentangles from Adam and leaves the room. Adam's starting to root around in the drawer when Kris last looks.
Kris puts on his coat and is going to leave, take a walk, and then he thinks, no. That seems to be the only word he has at his disposal tonight, but he's been chickenshit for a very long time, and he needs this to be over, one way or the other. He does dishes and plans his speech convincing Adam that Kris can still be a friend to him, his speech for why Adam should take Kevin back. He doesn't realize he's crying until a tear lands in the dishwater. He turns the water off and just leans over the sink, taking deep breaths. He has got to get his shit together.
"I'm so fucking mad at you, I can't even--" Adam's voice, really angry.
"I'm sorry. It was probably, you know, just a thing about coming out and all that, just." Kris stares down at the soapsuds in the sink.
Adam's footsteps come closer. Kris glances around. He has some things from Kris's drawer in his hand.
Kris stares at the soap bubbles some more.
Adam is silent. He puts the notebook paper with the lyrics on the counter, right where Kris can see it out of the corner of his eye, then sticks the crumpled tickets there, too. Finally, he pulls a blindfold out of his pocket, the black one Kris bought in New Orleans, and puts it next to everything else.
"So." Adam's voice is cold. "You bought tickets for us to fly to Mexico together. And kept them. Then you bought something kind of kinky, something you like, or something you thought I'd like, when I said that thing about Kevin being a little kinky. And then you wrote a song about me," his voice stumbles, but he recovers quickly, "about us."
Kris clings to the counter. He feels his face flame. He nods ever so slightly.
"And you did all of that, but never fucking bothered to tell me any of it. Or record the song."
Kris nods, miserable.
"I've got to get out of here." Adam's voice is tight, angrier than Kris has probably ever heard it. He takes an audible breath. "I'll call you. When I can deal."
Kris nods one last time.
* * *
It's been four days since the disaster. Kris is lying on his sofa with a pint of ice cream, blanket tucked around him, watching some infomercial he's already seen at least five times. He hasn't heard from Adam at all. Kris works hard to keep the thought at bay that maybe Adam's never going to call him again. The idea of that happening... He shovels some more ice cream in.
Someone knocks but he ignores it. The doorbell rings, and Kris just turns the volume up higher.
The doorknob turns. It's Adam, the only person except Kris's family to have a key. He stands just inside the door and looks at Kris, hands on his hips, then slams the door shut behind him. "Still so mad at you," he announces.
Kris nods. He never should have... He knows better, always has. His chest is all tight and his throat feels swollen. He can sort of imagine what life would be like without Adam in it, but at the same time, he kind of can't. It would be--
"Oh, for god's sake," Adam sighs, striding over to the sofa and sitting down hard next to Kris. "You are such an idiot, seriously." He reaches out and pulls Kris into his arms, tight into his chest.
The relief Kris feels... It's overwhelming, actually, knowing this isn't gone, that whatever else, at least Adam isn't so disgusted that he's gone out of Kris's life. Kris knew in the back of his head that was unlikely, but as the days ticked off...
"Stop that. Idiot," Adam says into Kris's hair, but Kris thinks he detects some relief in Adam's voice, too. Kris curls his hands tighter in Adam's shirt and just breathes.
Adam strokes Kris's head, and something cold and hard in Kris's stomach dissipates, warmth gathering in his throat. "I was so scared," he says, surprising himself yet again. "I thought you--"
Adam kisses Kris's head. "No, no, I'm sorry, I was scared, too, I just--"
They cling for a while. "I'm the one who's sorry," Kris says into Adam's shirt. "I didn't have the right. I should never have let myself think that you--And then to go ruin the thing with Kevin." He pulls back. "Wait, maybe it's not ruined, maybe you guys are together again? 'Cause that would be good, that would--"
Adam shakes his head. "Stop. I need to know if you still... are you just saying, I deserve something like that, what you thought you felt back then? Or are you saying that you...?"
Kris has lived his whole life flying under the radar. Even on Idol, for god's sake. Even post-Idol, when everyone thought he'd tank, and instead he slowly but surely rose up the charts until he could call his own shots. And most of all, he's been like that in relationships, where he's just pretty much let things happen.
He's been under Adam's radar for a long time, it seems.
"Kevin wants to make it work," Adam says. "If we get back together this time, I think it's going to be for good. We've both matured." Adam presses his lips together. "You. You, I will always be friends with. No matter what, so that's not a factor."
Kris nods and breathes out hard. That was his worst fear, losing Adam as a friend. "I'm sorry I--"
"Shut up." Adam looks at the far wall, then back at Kris. "In a way, it's probably good that I didn't know how you felt, back then, because I'm not sure I had the maturity to really handle it." He looks into Kris's eyes. "I think I do now. But I know how these things are...Maybe I was just your first gay crush, or you confused friendship with something else, or....Well, however you feel now, we'll be friends. So." He sits back. "Your turn." Adam sits back on the sofa.
Kris's heart is tripping loudly in his chest. Adam hasn't said how he feels, or what will happen if Kris says yes, or if he says no. Adam's eyes are flat, his face unreadable. It's like stepping off a cliff into a void. It would be so easy to say yes, he was just saying Adam deserves that kind of in-love from who he's with, that it was just a crush, that it's over.
That's what he'd usually do, what most of him wants to do. But.
There's another part of him, the part that said no. Maybe that's the part that hasn't been getting enough air time, the part he needs to let out. It's fucking terrifying, but kind of exhilarating, too. "No."
"No," Adam breathes. "Okay, yeah, I can live with that."
Kris stares at him a second before he realizes that what he said was ambiguous. He wishes he knew what Adam feels, but. "No. Not no, no."
Adam's eyebrows rise and Kris has to fight laughter. Suddenly it all kind of comes together, everything he believes but doesn't necessarily practice. "No, it's not just me saying you deserve something like that, even though you do. No, I'm not over it. No, I'm serious. No, I haven't left my apartment for four days except to buy more Ben and Jerry's." The adrenalin suddenly falters. Adam still hasn't said anything. "No, I'm not sure whether our friendship will survive this, and I, that makes me, I can't--" He can't get any more words out.
Adam is totally silent, and Kris is afraid to look at him. Despite everything Adam says, Kris knows the strain something like this could put on their friendship. "Or hey, you know, really Kevin is probably the right one for you."
"Stop that." Adam drags Kris's hand back from where it's fiddling with the sofa fabric, holds on. Kris looks at Adam, finally. What's the point of hiding, anyway. Adam has seen it all, right there in Kris's stupid dresser drawer.
Kris breathes out the lungful of air he's been holding and meets Adam's eyes, finally looks him in the face. He doesn't know where the words come from, but he guesses he's done hiding, from himself, and from Adam. "Yeah, you know what? I'd do the same thing again. I'd plan some sappy surprise vacation, I'd do whatever you wanted in bed, I'd write songs about you. I do write songs about you." The words come tumbling out unchecked now that he's started.
Adam's forehead wrinkles. "And now you tell me."
Kris flips their hands; takes Adam's hand gently in his own. "Yeah." Kris looks at their hands, clasped together. He swallows, then looks up, catches and holds Adam's eyes. His voice comes out rough. "Yeah, now I tell you."
"Oh." Adam looks away, bites his lip. "Oh," he mumbles. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
Kris figures, since it's a night of truths, why not. "You were happy with him. The first guy you were really happy with in a long time. He's good for you, in a lot of ways. I--Maybe I wasn't ready, or maybe I was chickenshit, because what if you didn't--"
"But Kris, it's fucking you."
Kris fights the ache that wells in his chest. "You didn't say anything either."
Adam shakes his head. "It could never come from me, and you know it. And besides, Katy made you happy. And then you were really fucked up, and if I'd--"
"Yeah, no, that wouldn't have been good. But now I'm regretting that I said anything. Because Kevin really does make you happy. And we don't really know how it would be," Kris waves between them with his free hand, "between us."
Adam laughs.
Kris frowns. "It's not exactly funny."
"No, I'm laughing at you trying to say with a straight face you don't know how it would be between us."
Kris must look confused, because Adam repeats it, lower. "You said we don't know how it would be. I do. It would be epic between us. Tell me with a straight face you don't know how it would be."
Kris chest feels tight and he's breathing quickly. Everything in his body responds to the timbre of Adam's voice.
"And when it came to the bedroom," Adam says, voice husky, "we'd both do anything the other wanted, you know it's true."
"Kevin," Kris attempts, one last time.
"No," Adam whispers, leaning towards Kris, lips slightly parted. "You said it, you said, no. So I'm saying it now: no."
"But--"
Adam pulls back and throws up his hands. "Oh, fuck, Kristopher! I'm sitting here being all seductive and you are so fucking stubborn. Fine! Here." Adam digs around in his pants pocket, pulls out a wallet far more glittery than a wallet has a right to be. He digs down inside it, opening some inner compartment.
All Kris can do is stare. "What...?"
Adam rolls his eyes. "We were about to kiss. At least I'm pretty sure. And when I say kiss, I mean, kiss and then probably have extremely hot sex for the first time right here on this sofa. Am I right? But you keep wanting to push me back into the arms of Kevin, who's a sweetheart, most of the time, but trust me when I say--Oh! Here it is." Adam pulls out a wrinkled, folded-up piece of paper from his wallet and holds it out to Kris. "There. See for yourself."
Kris unfolds it. He squints and tries to figure out what the hell he's supposed to be seeing here. There's some chunky writing, a circle, some hearts in a childish hand. And other writing over that, that looks kind of familiar... Oh, wow, it's his own writing; now he remembers.
"You kept this?" Kris manages to croak.
"Yeah," Adam whispers. There are spots of color on his cheeks and he isn't meeting Kris's eyes.
Kris looks at the piece of paper again. A little girl had drawn it for Adam, and the moderator at Ford Day had pulled it out to give to Adam, right there in front of the audience. Even in front of all those people attending the concert, Kris couldn't help it; he'd pointed out the hearts the girl had drawn around Adam's name, and teased that he wanted the drawing. The moderator had thought Kris meant he wanted a letter with hearts on it himself, a token of love from the audience, but what he'd meant was that he wanted a paper with Adam's name in a heart, one of those jokes that probably really wasn't a joke. After the concert, Kris had gotten the girl's drawing from the moderator. He'd drawn a heart of his own on it and put Adam's name in the center, then signed the paper, folded it up, and given it to Adam.
It'd been all he could do not to cry that day: they'd been breathing the same air twenty-four-seven for almost a year, and he couldn't really imagine life without Adam in it any more. They'd said goodbye to everyone else already; only the two of them were doing this one last, private event.
Kris had told himself it was just one of those things, like camp friendships, intense because of the circumstances, that the feelings would fade.
Kris had been fooling himself for a long time already at that point.
Kris smooths out the wrinkled paper on his lap, runs his finger over the heart he'd drawn. It'd been so hard after that; he'd felt like a part of himself was missing for a long time.
He spots something he missed the first time: in Adam's bold handwriting, but tiny, he'd added something to Kris's drawing: right next to Adam's name inside the heart, Adam had added, "&Kris 4ever."
Kris's heart feels like it's beating in triple time. He feels cold, then hot.
"Okay, that's enough. And I can't believe I showed you that." Adam reaches out for the drawing. His flush has deepened.
"I showed you my drawer!" Kris protests, holding the paper away from Adam. "That's, like, seriously embarrassing. This is just--" He can't stop the smile pulling up the corners of his mouth.
"Yeah, well, I haven't been reduced to a thirteen year old lovesick boy very many times in my life." Adam says glumly. "And don't forget I've been carrying it around for years."
Kris's smile turns to a laugh. "Holy crap, we are both thirteen." Kris shakes his head. "I don't think the world can hold this much sap for long. It's like, it might break the universe or something." He hands the paper back to Adam, who takes it and folds it back up, shoves it into his wallet.
Adam's face is still red, and he won't meet Kris's eyes. Kris sighs and scoots even closer to him. "Don't you get it? Think about it, man! My drawer. I'm way more ridiculous than you. We're both total saps. I mean, I'm thinking rose petals scattered around the room..."
Adam finally peeks up at Kris through his lashes. There's an expression on his face Kris has rarely seen, something soft and very real.
"And imagine when we fought," Kris adds, taking Adam's hand in his, lacing their fingers together, "It would be the stuff of legends. We'd probably need to keep pints of ice cream on hand just for that. Probably we'd write sonnets or something to make up, I don't know."
Adam bites his lip and meets Kris's eyes, finally, nods his head. He still looks embarrassed.
Kris's throat feels tight. "Listen, man. We're both totally ridiculous and hokey and I haven't taken a shower in days and you're sitting on a bunch of my used Kleenex."
Adam makes a sound that's something like a laugh, like relief, then pulls Kris hard into his arms. Kris smushes his face right up against Adam's chest and clings.
"I'm still mad at you," Adam says into Kris's hair. Kris nods. "Not for feeling that way. For being such a god damned procrastinating self-effacing ridiculous..." Adam's kissing Kris's head between every word.
Something warm uncurls in Kris's chest.
Adam pulls back and presses Kris's hand to his cheek, closes his eyes, breathes deep. When he opens his eyes again, Kris can only stare at him, open-mouthed. Adam's so beautiful; rumpled, hair a mess, liner screwed up and bleeding all over the place. And Adam's looking at Kris like he's beautiful, precious. Kris can't even speak; his throat feels like it's completely closed off. His fingers brush over Adam's eye, his temple; he can't help it. Adam's eyes close and Kris's heart skips a beat. "Do you still--?" Kris asks in a whisper.
"Oh my fucking god you are so stupid," Adam says, rolling Kris underneath him on the sofa in one smooth move. "I have our names in a heart on a piece of paper I've carried to every continent I've been to. And if you think Two Roads is about anyone other than you, than you are obviously too idiotic to even be graced with my presence, so..."
Kris's heart is starting to soar, laughter rising up in his throat. "Your presence," he says archly, bringing his thigh up and pressing meaningfully against Adam's impressive erection, "apparently has a mind of its own."
"Mmm," Adam murmurs, biting Kris's ear. "Is the blindfold a kink of yours, or was that just something--"
Kris gasps. "Why don't you find out, instead of just lying there."
Adam laughs, and all the joy in the world is in it. "It might take me a while, though. I could see that taking quite a long time, finding that out. A really long time."
Kris runs his hands through Adam's hair, tangles in the necklace at his neck, brings his face down so their lips are almost touching.
"Exactly," he whispers into Adam's mouth. Because now that he's thrown the whole procrastinate and fly under the radar thing out the window, he figures he might as well go for broke.
"Finally you're making sense," Adam whispers back, leaning down the last remaining distance and letting their lips touch for the first time. "And by the way," he adds, pulling up for a second, "that song you've had in your drawer is going to be a fucking huge hit, so you'd better think of a cover story for why you wrote it."
"Or not," Kris says, delighted when Adam's eyebrows shoot up. He grins up at Adam and reaches to pulls Adam's ass tighter down on top of him, grinds up into his strong, very male body.
"Mmmm," Adam says, still looking a little shocked. "Or not. You are going to be the death of me, I can tell. I've seen you when you make your mind up about something, you never give in. Stubborn, stubborn, stu--"
"You better believe it," Kris says.
"Oh, baby, don't I know it. You're so hot when you're all stu--"
The rest of what Adam was going to say is muffled; Kris pulls him down to him and sticks his tongue into his mouth, unequivocal. Kris has a lot of time to make up for. And some rose petals to buy. Later. Much, much later.
~The End~
Anyway, at long last, here's my fic for koba_sama. Next up, my ficlets for ckalicka and kradamite! Let's see whether either of those can be kept to 500 words. Anyone care to wager that I can keep them super short? Yeah, I didn't think so. XD
Title: No
Pairing: Adam/Kris
Rating: R
Words: Ahahaha, another fic that was supposed to be 500 words. This one is ~5,500.
A/N: This was written for the very patient koba_sama, who generously donated during the ontd_ai fundraising drive for Haiti. Sorry it took so long! She said she's read a lot of fics where Kris isn't ready for a relationship at first, but when he is, Adam's always ready. She wondered what might happen if when Kris was ready, Adam wasn't. Thanks for the great prompt! Like all stories, it had a mind of its own, and its mind ended up being... quite sappy. Sorry? I hope you like it despite its high sugar content.<333
Beta thanks: To be honest, this story actually kicked my butt, for reasons completely unclear to me, and I'm not sure I won. Fortunately (I guess, lol), the wonderful lolitaray and melisande431 talked me out of chucking this thing out the window, and performed wonderful mistake-removal throughout. All mistakes are mine.
Summary: Kris has a tendency to procrastinate and fly under the radar. When he's finally read to try for something more than friendship with Adam, Adam is involved with someone else, and happy.
No
Kris fiddles with the wine menu and shifts in his seat. His other hand plays with the tickets in his pocket. He's nervous, but it's the kind that's exciting, heart tripping a little too quickly in his throat. It's cool, though. He's prepared. He knows what he wants to say.
Adam's late, of course. Nothing unexpected there. Kris is on his second glass of wine by the time his phone buzzes. Adam. He'll tell Kris how he got delayed putting on his makeup or helping Drake with his latest relationship or making Danielle laugh, and say he's two minutes away. He'll arrive breathless, laughing, smile just for Kris.
Only that's not what Adam says. "Kris, I'm sorry, but something's come up. I'd normally never do this to our Wednesday dinner date, but... You know how I was talking about Kevin, and how things have been going really great? Well, we kind of--"
Kris hears giggling in the background. "Stop it!" Adam stage-whispers to whoever it is--Kevin, then dissolves into laughter.
"No, that's--That's cool," Kris manages. "It's no big deal. I'll just--"
"I've got a boyfriend, a real boyfriend!" Adam half-sings. "Finally. I thought I was doomed to be alone unto all eternity! But he says...Well, we kind of committed last night, and it's good." There's a shuffling commotion and Adam's voice is decidedly husky when he talks again. "Really good."
Kris swallows. "Sure, that's. That's great. I'll--We can do this next time we're both in town, I think it's in couple of weeks?" His mouth is dry.
"Right, yeah, that's what I figured. Thanks for understan--Oh, no you don't!" Adam says, laughing, to Kevin.
"Yeah, man, well, I'm gonna run, 'cause something came up for me, too, so..."
"Okay, sure," Adam says, obviously not paying attention any more.
The line goes dead. Kris stares at his phone for a long time, then finishes off the glass of wine and heads for the studio. That night when he's undressing, he pulls out the tickets from his pocket. He looks at them for a long moment. Story of his life: procrastination screwing things up.
He takes a deep breath. Adam's happy. Really happy, happier than he's seen him, like, ever. He throws the tickets into the trash.
Sometime around three a.m. he stumbles out of bed and retrieves them, sticks them under some socks in his drawer, in the back where he won't come across them.
He's going to be on the road more than he's going to be in L.A. anyway, and he figures with some time, he'll forget the whole thing. Before anything else, Adam's a friend, a brother. Kevin... Kevin is a sweetheart. He'll be good to Adam, and love him for himself. It's for the best anyway; Kevin doesn't have baggage and a tendency to melancholy, and he has all the relevant experience to make Adam's voice sound like that, deep and husky. Happy.
* * *
Adam's breakup with Kevin is rough. Kris finds him on his sofa crying over a General Hospital re-run, Ben & Jerry's cartons littering the coffee table. Kris sighs and sits down, wraps his arms around him.
After a while Adam pulls away. "Sorry. I just thought--it was really good, you know?"
Kris nods. "Yeah."
Adam quirks a smile, scrubbing at the mascara tracks on his face. "And the sex was sooo hot, too."
Kris rolls his eyes at him, but Adam continues. "Boy had kinks, I'm just saying."
"Okay, my work here is done," Kris says. "Don't get up. Enjoy your time with Ben and Jerry. I'll let myself out."
* * *
Kris lets a decent amount of time go by, then comes to Adam's house straight from the airport after a mini-tour of venues in the south. The thing he bought in New Orleans is burning a hole in his pocket and his heart is hammering hard, but he's going to do this, this time. He's tired of waiting, thinking about Adam all alone, going on first dates of his own because his mother bugs him too much if he doesn't; she's been so worried since the divorce.
"Kris!" Adam greets him at the door.
Kris's hand tightens around the thing in his pocket. The best approach is a direct one, he figures. He takes a deep breath and takes a step inside. "Adam, I--"
"Honey?" A voice from the bedroom. Shit. Someone's here with Adam. By the sound of the voice and the soft look in Adam's eyes, it's Kevin.
Adam shrugs apologetically at Kris. "We got back together yesterday. You were in mid-air so I hadn't texted you yet. He says this is for real, and I believe him." Adam is glowing.
"Oh." Kris's hand unclenches in his pocket. "That's--That's great! I'll just... Oh, crap." Kris belatedly realizes that Adam's wearing a pair of too-small sweats and nothing else. "I'm sorry, I should have called, I just--"
"No! You don't ever have to call. Never, not you. Though," Adam quirks an eyebrow at Kris, and the look goes straight to Kris's belly, "I can't guarantee that you won't see or hear something you don't want to. You're just lucky you weren't here a few minutes ago. Kevin had grabbed my--"
'Stop! I'm gonna need bleach for my brain!" Kris manages a laugh. "I'll see myself out. That's-- That's great about you and Kevin. Really. Really great."
When he gets home, he wads up the thing he'd been carrying in his pocket since New Orleans and stuffs it in the back of his drawer next to the tickets.
Adam is happy. That's what matters. He'll repeat that to himself for a while, until it sticks.
* * *
Kris takes a deep breath and stuffs the piece of paper in his pocket. He brings it to the restaurant he's meeting Adam at, rehearsing what he's going to say, because yeah, it could seem overwhelming if he doesn't introduce it all pretty carefully. That's okay, though; it's his time. Adam and Kevin have broken up again, and Kris has waited long enough. Adam has stopped tearing up when certain songs come on. He's stopped spamming Kris with morose musings about getting old alone.
It's time.
Kris actually gets as far as bringing the paper out of his pocket and putting it on the table they're sharing. His hands shake as he smoothes out the wrinkles, but hopefully Adam won't notice.
Adam doesn't notice, because he's looking at a message on his phone. "Oh, wow," he says, voice tender. "I didn't think he'd say yes."
"Say yes?"
Adam nods, keying in a response without looking at Kris. "I think we just have one of those relationships, you know, that's kind of, kind of dramatic? Maybe that's good, though, in a way, right? I decided I needed to put myself out there with him, lay it on the line. I think I'd been holding back." He smiles at his phone.
Kris looks at the paper on the table, then quickly stuffs it back in his pocket.
"Oh, hey, I'll check out your lyrics next time, okay? It's great you're writing so much!"
"Yeah, sure. Go ahead. I'm sure he's waiting for you." Kris nods at the check. "I'll take care of it."
Adam leaves in a rush. Kris closes his eyes for a minute, then breathes out. It just... isn't meant to be. Obviously. He's doomed to always be late in life, to everything. For god's sake, he couldn't even finish college in six years. Refusing to deal with their issues doomed him and Katy, too. Adam and him... Kris played around the edges of something with Adam for a long time, and he knows Adam felt something, too, but Kris just didn't step up when it counted.
He's not meant to have a chance with someone like Adam.
Kris orders a bottle of wine and drinks half of it, then hails a cab for WeHo. It's been a while since he's done anything like this, not that he's done anything quite like this, engaging in something like this in such a public place. It feels good. It kind of feels like he's been waiting, but now he's not waiting any more. Waiting hasn't gotten him shit in life, really.
The guy he brings home is tall and dark, and is on his knees before Kris gets the door all the way closed. Kris closes his eyes to the empty apartment around him and doesn't think about a sparkly laugh, brilliant blue eyes.
When the guy leaves, Kris puts the lyrics sheet in the drawer with the other stuff. He thinks about burning all of it, but decides against it in the end. He kicks the fucking thing closed, then kicks it again for good measure.
He's done with the whole thing. For real this time.
* * *
Kris knows he's completely over it when Adam asks him to help plan a party to celebrate his and Kevin's two year anniversary, and Kris is happy to. Happy to help Adam celebrate something that's brought him, overall, a lot of joy. They meet to plan it, giggling over some of the crazy ideas they come up with. A cake with an almost-naked boy in it, a stripper pole with an Adam-clone, a drag queen singing Disney tunes.
Kevin leaves Adam two nights before the party.
Adam doesn't cry this time, doesn't even want ice cream. He's just quiet, nibbling at the pasta Kris made him; Kris insisted Adam come over to Kris's place after he'd told Kris about Kevin. "I think--I think I'm too traditional for him or something," Adam says softly. "I just. When all is said and done, I'm a sap, you know?"
"Yeah," Kris says. "I just--I just want you to be happy. That's all I want."
Adam reaches for his hand and squeezes it. His eyes are warm on Kris.
Adam's phone rings and Adam glances at it. He smiles, but it's a little wistful, curled tight on the edges. "It's Kevin."
"Probably apologizing," Kris says.
"Should I answer it?" Adam bites his lip.
"Yeah, sure. Of course. If he makes you happy."
Adam smiles at Kris a little misty-eyed. "Such a friend to me, Kristopher Allen."
"You've always been one to me," Kris says. And Adam has, helping Kris through the separation and divorce, the full coming out to himself, the couple of short-lived relationships.
Adam's phone stops ringing and Kris takes a deep breath. Something feels weird in his throat. The phone buzzes. "A text," Adam says. "He's asking me to forgive him." He closes the phone and taps it on the arm of the sofa, biting his lip again.
The phone rings. Adam looks at it. His hand reaches for it, stops. He looks up at Kris, eyes asking his opinion.
"Yeah," Kris breathes, because Kevin is young and messed up, but he makes Adam so happy, most of the time.
Adam nods and blows out a breath. "Okay. Okay, then." He picks up the phone.
"No," Kris says.
Kris had no idea he was going to say anything. He didn't even know he wanted to say anything, not really.
Adam looks up sharply.
"No," Kris repeats, like he doesn't know any other words. "I have a drawer." He winces.
Adam wrinkles his forehead and looks hard at Kris, raises his eyebrows.
"I have--It's where I." Kris covers his eyes with his hand. He's forgotten all of that. He really, really has.
"A drawer?" Trust Adam to zoom in on the most embarrassing thing.
Adam's phone rings again and Adam mutes it, sticks it in his pocket. He scoots closer to Kris on the sofa. "Kris?"
"Forget it," Kris mumbles. "You should call him." He looks up at Adam. "Call him."
Adam's forehead wrinkles again. He reaches for the phone, then stops. "No. Not right now." He looks intently at Kris.
"Okay, no," Kris says. He doesn't know where these words are coming from. "Not until--Not until I tell you something. No."
"Kris?" Adam looks confused, emotions Kris can't identify flitting across his face in rapid succession.
Kris huffs out a breath. He closes his eyes. What he's considering, it's crazy, but. Kevin truly loves Adam and Adam loves him back, for real, but he's pulling Adam apart a piece at a time. And it turns out Kris hasn't forgotten any of that stuff, none of it. He pushes to his feet. "Come here."
Adam follows him into his bedroom, silent, eyes big.
Kris runs his fingers across the dent in the dresser from where he kicked it, then pulls out the drawer. "There."
"Socks?" Adam says.
"Forget it." Kris moves to shut the drawer, but Adam blocks his hand.
"What. The. Hell."
Kris bites his lip. If this makes things weird between them, if he loses Adam as a friend, he just. He can't even--It hurts too much to think about it. But. He takes a breath, lets it out. "Under the socks." He disentangles from Adam and leaves the room. Adam's starting to root around in the drawer when Kris last looks.
Kris puts on his coat and is going to leave, take a walk, and then he thinks, no. That seems to be the only word he has at his disposal tonight, but he's been chickenshit for a very long time, and he needs this to be over, one way or the other. He does dishes and plans his speech convincing Adam that Kris can still be a friend to him, his speech for why Adam should take Kevin back. He doesn't realize he's crying until a tear lands in the dishwater. He turns the water off and just leans over the sink, taking deep breaths. He has got to get his shit together.
"I'm so fucking mad at you, I can't even--" Adam's voice, really angry.
"I'm sorry. It was probably, you know, just a thing about coming out and all that, just." Kris stares down at the soapsuds in the sink.
Adam's footsteps come closer. Kris glances around. He has some things from Kris's drawer in his hand.
Kris stares at the soap bubbles some more.
Adam is silent. He puts the notebook paper with the lyrics on the counter, right where Kris can see it out of the corner of his eye, then sticks the crumpled tickets there, too. Finally, he pulls a blindfold out of his pocket, the black one Kris bought in New Orleans, and puts it next to everything else.
"So." Adam's voice is cold. "You bought tickets for us to fly to Mexico together. And kept them. Then you bought something kind of kinky, something you like, or something you thought I'd like, when I said that thing about Kevin being a little kinky. And then you wrote a song about me," his voice stumbles, but he recovers quickly, "about us."
Kris clings to the counter. He feels his face flame. He nods ever so slightly.
"And you did all of that, but never fucking bothered to tell me any of it. Or record the song."
Kris nods, miserable.
"I've got to get out of here." Adam's voice is tight, angrier than Kris has probably ever heard it. He takes an audible breath. "I'll call you. When I can deal."
Kris nods one last time.
* * *
It's been four days since the disaster. Kris is lying on his sofa with a pint of ice cream, blanket tucked around him, watching some infomercial he's already seen at least five times. He hasn't heard from Adam at all. Kris works hard to keep the thought at bay that maybe Adam's never going to call him again. The idea of that happening... He shovels some more ice cream in.
Someone knocks but he ignores it. The doorbell rings, and Kris just turns the volume up higher.
The doorknob turns. It's Adam, the only person except Kris's family to have a key. He stands just inside the door and looks at Kris, hands on his hips, then slams the door shut behind him. "Still so mad at you," he announces.
Kris nods. He never should have... He knows better, always has. His chest is all tight and his throat feels swollen. He can sort of imagine what life would be like without Adam in it, but at the same time, he kind of can't. It would be--
"Oh, for god's sake," Adam sighs, striding over to the sofa and sitting down hard next to Kris. "You are such an idiot, seriously." He reaches out and pulls Kris into his arms, tight into his chest.
The relief Kris feels... It's overwhelming, actually, knowing this isn't gone, that whatever else, at least Adam isn't so disgusted that he's gone out of Kris's life. Kris knew in the back of his head that was unlikely, but as the days ticked off...
"Stop that. Idiot," Adam says into Kris's hair, but Kris thinks he detects some relief in Adam's voice, too. Kris curls his hands tighter in Adam's shirt and just breathes.
Adam strokes Kris's head, and something cold and hard in Kris's stomach dissipates, warmth gathering in his throat. "I was so scared," he says, surprising himself yet again. "I thought you--"
Adam kisses Kris's head. "No, no, I'm sorry, I was scared, too, I just--"
They cling for a while. "I'm the one who's sorry," Kris says into Adam's shirt. "I didn't have the right. I should never have let myself think that you--And then to go ruin the thing with Kevin." He pulls back. "Wait, maybe it's not ruined, maybe you guys are together again? 'Cause that would be good, that would--"
Adam shakes his head. "Stop. I need to know if you still... are you just saying, I deserve something like that, what you thought you felt back then? Or are you saying that you...?"
Kris has lived his whole life flying under the radar. Even on Idol, for god's sake. Even post-Idol, when everyone thought he'd tank, and instead he slowly but surely rose up the charts until he could call his own shots. And most of all, he's been like that in relationships, where he's just pretty much let things happen.
He's been under Adam's radar for a long time, it seems.
"Kevin wants to make it work," Adam says. "If we get back together this time, I think it's going to be for good. We've both matured." Adam presses his lips together. "You. You, I will always be friends with. No matter what, so that's not a factor."
Kris nods and breathes out hard. That was his worst fear, losing Adam as a friend. "I'm sorry I--"
"Shut up." Adam looks at the far wall, then back at Kris. "In a way, it's probably good that I didn't know how you felt, back then, because I'm not sure I had the maturity to really handle it." He looks into Kris's eyes. "I think I do now. But I know how these things are...Maybe I was just your first gay crush, or you confused friendship with something else, or....Well, however you feel now, we'll be friends. So." He sits back. "Your turn." Adam sits back on the sofa.
Kris's heart is tripping loudly in his chest. Adam hasn't said how he feels, or what will happen if Kris says yes, or if he says no. Adam's eyes are flat, his face unreadable. It's like stepping off a cliff into a void. It would be so easy to say yes, he was just saying Adam deserves that kind of in-love from who he's with, that it was just a crush, that it's over.
That's what he'd usually do, what most of him wants to do. But.
There's another part of him, the part that said no. Maybe that's the part that hasn't been getting enough air time, the part he needs to let out. It's fucking terrifying, but kind of exhilarating, too. "No."
"No," Adam breathes. "Okay, yeah, I can live with that."
Kris stares at him a second before he realizes that what he said was ambiguous. He wishes he knew what Adam feels, but. "No. Not no, no."
Adam's eyebrows rise and Kris has to fight laughter. Suddenly it all kind of comes together, everything he believes but doesn't necessarily practice. "No, it's not just me saying you deserve something like that, even though you do. No, I'm not over it. No, I'm serious. No, I haven't left my apartment for four days except to buy more Ben and Jerry's." The adrenalin suddenly falters. Adam still hasn't said anything. "No, I'm not sure whether our friendship will survive this, and I, that makes me, I can't--" He can't get any more words out.
Adam is totally silent, and Kris is afraid to look at him. Despite everything Adam says, Kris knows the strain something like this could put on their friendship. "Or hey, you know, really Kevin is probably the right one for you."
"Stop that." Adam drags Kris's hand back from where it's fiddling with the sofa fabric, holds on. Kris looks at Adam, finally. What's the point of hiding, anyway. Adam has seen it all, right there in Kris's stupid dresser drawer.
Kris breathes out the lungful of air he's been holding and meets Adam's eyes, finally looks him in the face. He doesn't know where the words come from, but he guesses he's done hiding, from himself, and from Adam. "Yeah, you know what? I'd do the same thing again. I'd plan some sappy surprise vacation, I'd do whatever you wanted in bed, I'd write songs about you. I do write songs about you." The words come tumbling out unchecked now that he's started.
Adam's forehead wrinkles. "And now you tell me."
Kris flips their hands; takes Adam's hand gently in his own. "Yeah." Kris looks at their hands, clasped together. He swallows, then looks up, catches and holds Adam's eyes. His voice comes out rough. "Yeah, now I tell you."
"Oh." Adam looks away, bites his lip. "Oh," he mumbles. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
Kris figures, since it's a night of truths, why not. "You were happy with him. The first guy you were really happy with in a long time. He's good for you, in a lot of ways. I--Maybe I wasn't ready, or maybe I was chickenshit, because what if you didn't--"
"But Kris, it's fucking you."
Kris fights the ache that wells in his chest. "You didn't say anything either."
Adam shakes his head. "It could never come from me, and you know it. And besides, Katy made you happy. And then you were really fucked up, and if I'd--"
"Yeah, no, that wouldn't have been good. But now I'm regretting that I said anything. Because Kevin really does make you happy. And we don't really know how it would be," Kris waves between them with his free hand, "between us."
Adam laughs.
Kris frowns. "It's not exactly funny."
"No, I'm laughing at you trying to say with a straight face you don't know how it would be between us."
Kris must look confused, because Adam repeats it, lower. "You said we don't know how it would be. I do. It would be epic between us. Tell me with a straight face you don't know how it would be."
Kris chest feels tight and he's breathing quickly. Everything in his body responds to the timbre of Adam's voice.
"And when it came to the bedroom," Adam says, voice husky, "we'd both do anything the other wanted, you know it's true."
"Kevin," Kris attempts, one last time.
"No," Adam whispers, leaning towards Kris, lips slightly parted. "You said it, you said, no. So I'm saying it now: no."
"But--"
Adam pulls back and throws up his hands. "Oh, fuck, Kristopher! I'm sitting here being all seductive and you are so fucking stubborn. Fine! Here." Adam digs around in his pants pocket, pulls out a wallet far more glittery than a wallet has a right to be. He digs down inside it, opening some inner compartment.
All Kris can do is stare. "What...?"
Adam rolls his eyes. "We were about to kiss. At least I'm pretty sure. And when I say kiss, I mean, kiss and then probably have extremely hot sex for the first time right here on this sofa. Am I right? But you keep wanting to push me back into the arms of Kevin, who's a sweetheart, most of the time, but trust me when I say--Oh! Here it is." Adam pulls out a wrinkled, folded-up piece of paper from his wallet and holds it out to Kris. "There. See for yourself."
Kris unfolds it. He squints and tries to figure out what the hell he's supposed to be seeing here. There's some chunky writing, a circle, some hearts in a childish hand. And other writing over that, that looks kind of familiar... Oh, wow, it's his own writing; now he remembers.
"You kept this?" Kris manages to croak.
"Yeah," Adam whispers. There are spots of color on his cheeks and he isn't meeting Kris's eyes.
Kris looks at the piece of paper again. A little girl had drawn it for Adam, and the moderator at Ford Day had pulled it out to give to Adam, right there in front of the audience. Even in front of all those people attending the concert, Kris couldn't help it; he'd pointed out the hearts the girl had drawn around Adam's name, and teased that he wanted the drawing. The moderator had thought Kris meant he wanted a letter with hearts on it himself, a token of love from the audience, but what he'd meant was that he wanted a paper with Adam's name in a heart, one of those jokes that probably really wasn't a joke. After the concert, Kris had gotten the girl's drawing from the moderator. He'd drawn a heart of his own on it and put Adam's name in the center, then signed the paper, folded it up, and given it to Adam.
It'd been all he could do not to cry that day: they'd been breathing the same air twenty-four-seven for almost a year, and he couldn't really imagine life without Adam in it any more. They'd said goodbye to everyone else already; only the two of them were doing this one last, private event.
Kris had told himself it was just one of those things, like camp friendships, intense because of the circumstances, that the feelings would fade.
Kris had been fooling himself for a long time already at that point.
Kris smooths out the wrinkled paper on his lap, runs his finger over the heart he'd drawn. It'd been so hard after that; he'd felt like a part of himself was missing for a long time.
He spots something he missed the first time: in Adam's bold handwriting, but tiny, he'd added something to Kris's drawing: right next to Adam's name inside the heart, Adam had added, "&Kris 4ever."
Kris's heart feels like it's beating in triple time. He feels cold, then hot.
"Okay, that's enough. And I can't believe I showed you that." Adam reaches out for the drawing. His flush has deepened.
"I showed you my drawer!" Kris protests, holding the paper away from Adam. "That's, like, seriously embarrassing. This is just--" He can't stop the smile pulling up the corners of his mouth.
"Yeah, well, I haven't been reduced to a thirteen year old lovesick boy very many times in my life." Adam says glumly. "And don't forget I've been carrying it around for years."
Kris's smile turns to a laugh. "Holy crap, we are both thirteen." Kris shakes his head. "I don't think the world can hold this much sap for long. It's like, it might break the universe or something." He hands the paper back to Adam, who takes it and folds it back up, shoves it into his wallet.
Adam's face is still red, and he won't meet Kris's eyes. Kris sighs and scoots even closer to him. "Don't you get it? Think about it, man! My drawer. I'm way more ridiculous than you. We're both total saps. I mean, I'm thinking rose petals scattered around the room..."
Adam finally peeks up at Kris through his lashes. There's an expression on his face Kris has rarely seen, something soft and very real.
"And imagine when we fought," Kris adds, taking Adam's hand in his, lacing their fingers together, "It would be the stuff of legends. We'd probably need to keep pints of ice cream on hand just for that. Probably we'd write sonnets or something to make up, I don't know."
Adam bites his lip and meets Kris's eyes, finally, nods his head. He still looks embarrassed.
Kris's throat feels tight. "Listen, man. We're both totally ridiculous and hokey and I haven't taken a shower in days and you're sitting on a bunch of my used Kleenex."
Adam makes a sound that's something like a laugh, like relief, then pulls Kris hard into his arms. Kris smushes his face right up against Adam's chest and clings.
"I'm still mad at you," Adam says into Kris's hair. Kris nods. "Not for feeling that way. For being such a god damned procrastinating self-effacing ridiculous..." Adam's kissing Kris's head between every word.
Something warm uncurls in Kris's chest.
Adam pulls back and presses Kris's hand to his cheek, closes his eyes, breathes deep. When he opens his eyes again, Kris can only stare at him, open-mouthed. Adam's so beautiful; rumpled, hair a mess, liner screwed up and bleeding all over the place. And Adam's looking at Kris like he's beautiful, precious. Kris can't even speak; his throat feels like it's completely closed off. His fingers brush over Adam's eye, his temple; he can't help it. Adam's eyes close and Kris's heart skips a beat. "Do you still--?" Kris asks in a whisper.
"Oh my fucking god you are so stupid," Adam says, rolling Kris underneath him on the sofa in one smooth move. "I have our names in a heart on a piece of paper I've carried to every continent I've been to. And if you think Two Roads is about anyone other than you, than you are obviously too idiotic to even be graced with my presence, so..."
Kris's heart is starting to soar, laughter rising up in his throat. "Your presence," he says archly, bringing his thigh up and pressing meaningfully against Adam's impressive erection, "apparently has a mind of its own."
"Mmm," Adam murmurs, biting Kris's ear. "Is the blindfold a kink of yours, or was that just something--"
Kris gasps. "Why don't you find out, instead of just lying there."
Adam laughs, and all the joy in the world is in it. "It might take me a while, though. I could see that taking quite a long time, finding that out. A really long time."
Kris runs his hands through Adam's hair, tangles in the necklace at his neck, brings his face down so their lips are almost touching.
"Exactly," he whispers into Adam's mouth. Because now that he's thrown the whole procrastinate and fly under the radar thing out the window, he figures he might as well go for broke.
"Finally you're making sense," Adam whispers back, leaning down the last remaining distance and letting their lips touch for the first time. "And by the way," he adds, pulling up for a second, "that song you've had in your drawer is going to be a fucking huge hit, so you'd better think of a cover story for why you wrote it."
"Or not," Kris says, delighted when Adam's eyebrows shoot up. He grins up at Adam and reaches to pulls Adam's ass tighter down on top of him, grinds up into his strong, very male body.
"Mmmm," Adam says, still looking a little shocked. "Or not. You are going to be the death of me, I can tell. I've seen you when you make your mind up about something, you never give in. Stubborn, stubborn, stu--"
"You better believe it," Kris says.
"Oh, baby, don't I know it. You're so hot when you're all stu--"
The rest of what Adam was going to say is muffled; Kris pulls him down to him and sticks his tongue into his mouth, unequivocal. Kris has a lot of time to make up for. And some rose petals to buy. Later. Much, much later.
~The End~