If You Really Fell (5/9)

Aug 16, 2009 19:43

I've been on a writing spree, thanks to all your encouraging comments! I hope you enjoy this extra long, extra juicy chapter, as I won't be able to write for a few days - I'm going to Six Flags tomorrow, and the day after that I'll be at the Boston Idols Live Concert (yesssssss!!!).

Title: If You Really Fell (5/9)
Summary: Kris and Adam write a song together and it changes how they see each other forever.
Pairings: Kradam
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They're real, this isn't.

“Because you could have him, if you wanted. He would forgive you. He loves you, he told me that.”

Kris’ day off was spent wallowing in sickness and misery, in addition to attempting to write a few more ballad options, and spend time with Katy. It was the longest he had ever gone without any contact with Adam, and all Kris was left to dwell on were the words of their last exchange, Adam’s cold anger. Drake’s crushed face, Adam’s deadened eyes.

It was almost as though Kris didn’t know how to function without his support and good opinion. Everything Kris wrote was lifeless, his pop-ballads empty, lackluster, average. He recorded demo versions of them that morning in his hotel room, barely making it through a verse before dashing to the toilet to throw up again. He was barely trying, the only tune running through his head of the song he and Adam had written together.

Kris had a kind of half-baked plan of getting Adam to record the demo of If You Really Fell with him, make him see that things could be okay once the song got approved for the album. But Adam was doing all he could to avoid Kris, miss his calls, ignore frequent texts of “im sorry,” and “Plz can we talk about this?” He knew that Adam was busy laying out the tracks for his album, deciding on a title, squeezing in his usual thousands of interviews, but by late afternoon, he had remained so resolute in evading Kris that he was beginning to wonder if they’d ever speak again.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized how big a mistake it was, uttering the words, “I want you.” He thought about it while walking with Katy in Pittsburgh that night, how he had finally admitted to himself that he wanted someone other than his wife for the first time in his life. Hell, he had cheated on her. But Kris was less guilty about his actual advances on Adam than about saying those words aloud to him, those words that cemented the fact of his feelings. He couldn’t go back on them now, couldn’t pretend they weren’t true, couldn’t hide from himself what he wanted.

Kris was ashamed of himself for hoping that maybe Adam wouldn’t remember. After all, Drake had opened the door immediately, and there was a chance Adam hadn’t processed them yet. If there was a possibility Adam didn’t understand what was going on, there was hope to mend their friendship, and for now, that was all Kris really wanted.

Katy seemed to notice that something was wrong, but she did little about it, shuffling her fingers and keeping up the well-practiced small-talk. That night they went back to his hotel room together, and Kris tried, really tried, to make the sex good. But there was no spark, no heat; he was doing everything he usually did, but she wasn’t into it and his movements were half-hearted, obligatory. Afterward, he started to apologize but she interrupted him sharply.

“I get it, Kris. You’re tired, I’m tired, don’t worry about it.”

He paused, for a second, studying her face. She looked almost bored. “Should we talk about it?” he mumbled feebly.

She reached for the remote and pointed it at the TV. “Don’t worry about it,” she repeated under the blast of color and sound that acted as a distractor toward everything at the forefront of Kris’ mind, everything he was supposed to deal with. It was kind of nice, he thought idly as he watched a couple of sharks swoop across the screen. He and Katy could ignore things together.

The next day at the barricades was uncomfortable to say the least, as Adam had lately been signing before the show instead of after to preserve his voice and sleep. Everyone had noticed that they weren’t speaking, the other idols included. They couldn’t miss Adam’s foul mood, they way he shrugged off Lil with a fake smile whenever she tried to talk to him about it. Or, the distinct absence of his and Kris’ interactions, as it was perceived that they were the best friends on the bus. Matt was the first to give it away to a confused fan when she asked to have a picture with both Adam and Kris.

Adam’s face was blank for only a second while Kris felt his form into an embarrassed smile, but Matt’s eyes got all big and he leaned over to Anoop and distinctly said, “Umm, awkward...”

“Sure, of course,” said Adam quickly, but Kris was already staring at Matt in utmost horror, who took only a few seconds to realize his mistake.

The girl glanced back and forth between them, bewildered along with the surrounding crowd, but pulled out her camera anyway. Kris leaned over and put his arm around her, which collided with Adam’s on her other side. As though scalded, Adam wrenched it away higher up the girl’s back. And then he peeked over at Kris.

It was the first time they had made eye contact since Kris had had Adam up against a wall. It was probably less than a second that they exchanged, but somehow Kris knew that Adam wasn’t all angry. There was fear in his eyes as well.

Before Kris had had time to analyze the moment, Adam was already grinning back at the camera, and Kris had forced his head around, too. But his heart was pounding.

It always seemed to take forever before Kris went on for his set. He normally passed the time by sleeping, or stealing Adam’s crossword book and filling in the ones he hadn’t been able to get. But sleep was impossible, and Adam was out of reach in the main dressing room next door while Kris was lying on this couch alone.

He spent the first few sets staring at his cellphone which was propped up an inch away from his face, waiting to see if Adam would respond to any of his texts. After twenty minutes of nothing, Kris grabbed the phone and punched in the words, “want 2 record a demo of our song after the show? its due tom.” Just as he pressed send, Allison burst through the door with a stormy, determined expression on her face.

“I just cornered Adam and he’s refusing to tell me what’s going on with you two.” She plunked down on top of his legs. “Now spill or I won’t let your feet go.”

Kris humored her with a laugh, and then tried to get up. Immediately, Allison’s limbs clenched around his, unrelenting. He couldn’t move his lower body. “You weren’t kidding,” he said.

She shook her head, grinning evilly.

“Well, I’ll just have to stay here, then.”

She sighed hugely. “Then I guess those poor, poor, Pittsburgh fans will never get to see their idol... I’m so sad for them.”

“Or you, if you don’t get up.”

Allison dropped her game and glared at him. “God dammit, will you just tell me already?”

“Alright, alright, but get up so I can whisper to you. I don’t want anyone to hear this.”

She obeyed, and they sat facing each other cross legged. Kris decided that he would tell her most of the truth, but not all of it. “Drake and Adam broke up,” he said bluntly, to which Allison responded by her hands flying to her mouth.

“Oh no!”

“Or at least I think they did. But I was kinda... stuck in the middle of it.”

“What do you mean?”

Hey eyes were so wide and innocent. “I got really drunk that night,” Kris said after a minute.

“Yeah, I heard,” she said, smirking.

“I said some things to Adam I shouldn’t have said... And Drake walked in...”

“Like what? What did you say?”

Kris was already regretting entering this conversation. “I overstepped some boundaries. That’s all.”

Allison was thinking hard. “Did Drake think... you and Adam...?”

She was too smart for her own good. Kris could do nothing but look back at her, wait for her to figure it out.

“Are things alright between you and Katy?” she said eventually in exactly the concerned, quiet tone of voice he feared.

“I think she’s frustrated. I’m frustrated. And Adam has always been there, and... fuck,” Kris buried his face in his hands, refusing to let himself choke up in front of a seventeen-year-old. But Allison drew him into a hug that knocked a tear from his eye after all.

“It’s okay,” she said simply. “It’s gonna be okay. It just depends on what you want.”

Kris looked up. “What I...?”

“What you want. Do you want to be with Katy?”

“Yes,” said Kris with a fervor. “Yes.”

“What about Adam? You like him?”

Kris lowered his eyes. “Yeah, of course.”

“Because you could have him, too, if you wanted. He would forgive you. He loves you, he told me that.”

“I don’t know,” said Kris, shaking his head, unable to believe her words. “I don’t know.”

Then Allison put her hand on Kris’ shoulder, tender and supportive. “But you can’t have both.”

He nodded slowly and said, “I know.”

She removed her hand and sat back, still watching him as though sad for him, pitying him. Kris kind of hated it, but he felt better. What she had said was the truth: he could fix it for himself... He just had to figure out what he wanted.

After the two-hour bus ride to Cleveland and another couple of hours sitting in his hotel room, Kris could no longer put off recording If You Really Fell without Adam. Sighing, he got out his laptop and pulled his old Martin guitar toward him which had his song-writing notebook tucked into the strings.

He’d thought a lot about Allison’s words, tried to sort his thoughts out, but he was tired. Too tired to be rational, too tired to think past his carnal needs of eat and sleep. And now he just had to play.

He hit record and fell fast into the music, more deeply than he thought he would, living each word, breathing the irony of it all, a pining song, Adam had said, well, hah. He was pining for someone, alright. He couldn’t believe he had written these verses with Adam, couldn’t believe how relevant they were, wondered if Adam had realized it...

You never thought you’d be that type of guy, leaving your heart on the floor
You’re usually the one who’s rolling your eyes, shutting the door
You can keep pretending, staying where you should
Or you can run away, leave everything, for them, you would

What if you let yourself go, what if you let everything change?
Would they even be there for you, or would your life rearrange?
Is this love or infatuation, desire or fear?
Is it all four? Oh, when will things be clear...

At that moment in the song, Kris happened to spot in the corner of the lyric sheet where Adam had doodled a little heart with two people holding hands in the center of it.

“What is that?” Kris had asked, smirking.

“It’s love, Kris,” Adam had said, silly but earnest. “It’s to inspire us while we write... And don’t make fun of my drawing skills.”

At the time Kris had died laughing, but now he could barely keep his emotion back, couldn’t play anymore, just touched his fingertips to the place where Adam had written and underlined four times the word “love.”

And then, abruptly, a loud BANG jerked Kris to attention. His head whipped upward, he practically threw his guitar, he had wild thoughts of being burgled, but no, it was Adam standing in his room, eyes manic and hair tossed, clearly having just slammed the door.

“You never fucking shut your door,” he said quietly, intensely.

“Did you get my tex - ? ”

“Come here, Kris,” Adam demanded. It was almost scary.

“Huh?”

“Just. come. here.”

Kris had barely stood up before Adam was striding toward him, confident and terrifying at the same time, but then Kris stopped analyzing whatever the fuck was going on because Adam was kissing him and holy shit.

Adam had one hand cupping Kris’ cheek, the other pulling at his hair and he was really going for it and Kris was too stunned to doing anything but take it. Teeth and tongue and lips everywhere, scraping deep, wiping his brain of all instincts but want.

Then Adam leaned back a few inches for air, Kris whining in loss, and breathed into his ear, “God, that song, you are so fucking sexy when you play.”

Kris smiled against Adam’s jaw. “You were listening?”

“I’ve been sitting outside your door for an hour trying to decide whether to come in and fuck the hell out of you, now stop talking.”

And then Adam’s mouth was back on Kris’ and he couldn’t think anymore. As he let his hand slip under Adam’s shirt, felt skin burning beneath his fingertips, Kris forgot about the choices he had to make, forgot about what made sense because, really, at the core, this, he and Adam, together, made more sense than anything in the world.

Kris let himself be tipped back onto the bed, felt Adam all over him, nuzzling at his neck, hands everywhere while Kris just held on and his mouth fell open, breathing hard and fast. Sometime during the tumble Kris’ shirt had gotten mostly unbuttoned and Adam thrust it up over his head in one smooth motion. Soon enough Adam’s shirt was gone too and Kris was scraping his nails up and down Adam’s back when suddenly one of Adam’s legs wedged in between Kris’, pressure bold and sharp.

The friction was heaven and hell, felt too good but wasn’t enough at the same time, and Kris let out a throaty moan he’d never heard himself make with Katy.

“What do you want, Kris,” breathed Adam as he kneaded his leg against Kris’ cock, over and over. “I would fuck you, right now, if that’s okay with you...”

It was too much. “Get your pants off,” Kris said, voice strangled.

“Is that a yes, baby?”

Kris was already unbuttoning Adam’s too-tight jeans. “God, yes, you fucking tease.”

Finally, finally, there were no clothes in the way, and Kris instinctively reached for Adam’s cock, never having touched one other than his own. But Adam slapped him away, muttering, “Not yet,” into his lips. “I want this to last.” And then Adam’s fingers were coated in lube from the emergency pack in his pocket and he touched, just there, and jesus christ it felt incredible.

After a few more thrusts of the fingers, adding one then two then three, scissoring and stroking in and out, Kris was honest-to-god begging and pushing down as much as he could. “Now, Adam. Please.”

“You love this, don’t you,” said Adam, getting deeper, pushing Kris to the limit, enjoying every second. “Tell me you love it, baby.”

“I love it, Adam, I love it... fucking amazing,” he groaned, unable to keep himself from spreading his legs, groping for Adam’s cock to guide it in.

At last Adam removed his fingers and pushed in, slowly, slowly, and it was sweet pain.

Kris couldn’t keep his eyes open long enough to watch the sweat drip from Adam’s body, to watch the strained joy on his face, the pure, unattached, undamaged happiness. All he could do was feel.

~*~

CONTINUE TO CHAPTER SIX

american idol, fanfic

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