Sing Without A Song (3/?: Time Will Be The Thief)
Title: Sing Without A Song (3/?: Time Will Be The Thief)
Author: itsmadeofgold
Rating: R (language, sexual references)
Word Count: ~5800 (LOL)
Beta: norosegarden and cjdmomma
Summary: Part Three of fanboy!Kris AU, which I'm going to have to give an over-arching title soon because it has become a much bigger story and this individual titles thing is going to get confusing. Plus, I don't like thinking of Kris as a fanboy anymore. This isn't going to be what you expected, but I hope you'll come with me on it anyway.
A/N: Remember when I said that thing about writing a fanboy!Adam flip? Yeah, forget about that for now. I'm so excited about this story now I kind of feel like I want to live here forever. This is apparently what happens when I try to drabble.
Thanks to binkleywtf for the best drabble prompt ever and to norosegarden for helping me find this story in it. ♥
Previous chapters: You Walked Into The Room | Just Like The Ocean
It wasn't that he was heartbroken.
He was disappointed and sad and embarrassed, more than anything. Maybe embarrassed most of all, but the worst thing kept changing in his mind. Every time he thought about it - which was often enough that he was embarrassed at that alone - there was a new worst thing.
It was almost Christmas, and Kris hadn't heard from Adam at all. Not so much as a text. The tour had ended the last week of August with a show in Orlando, and Kris had anticipated that date fiercely, practically counting down to it like it represented a major event in his life. He was impatient but understanding afterward, as the first several weeks went by without hearing from Adam. He'd been able to rationalize the lack of contact throughout the rest of the tour by repeating to himself that Adam was busy and sought-after (not to mention nothing close to being his boyfriend), and that he'd never said he'd keep in touch throughout the tour. He had only said he'd call when it was over, that he'd like Kris to come out to LA then. So it wasn't until after the tour ended that he started really watching his phone. And it wasn't until September was almost over that he started wondering if he was going to hear from Adam at all.
It wasn't until Halloween that he began to try to break it to himself that maybe he never was. By Thanksgiving, he had stopped watching his phone.
And now it was December, and the internal monologue that he could never quite turn off centered almost entirely on trying to decide what the worst thing was.
The worst thing was the humiliation. Kris had told Matt and Anoop what Adam had said; he had been vibrating with excitement after his meeting with Adam in the dressing room and just could not contain himself. He went on and on about how he had sung for him, how Adam had loved it, how... how he had cuddled him and treated him like a lover, how he had said he wanted to see him again. How he had offered to help him make a demo. How they had seemed to make a connection and how it was more than Kris had ever imagined it could be. That it felt real. When he thought back on that conversation now he cringed, because he had been so nakedly excited and his friends had looked at him with expressions both pleased and indulgent, like they were happy for him but didn't really believe it. But Kris had thought, oh, they'll see, because he knew it was true.
They had told other people, too. The story had gotten around. He'd been asked by friends and acquaintances alike - people he'd never talked to about it - if he'd heard from Adam yet, if he knew when he was going to LA. At first he didn't mind, because hell, he could help being proud of it. But then time had passed, and the questions got irritating and he wished nobody knew. And then he started being a little snippy about it and people stopped asking, and instead just looked at him with pity and asked him how things were going. He hated that.
But what he hated even more was Anoop's constant calling him and trying to get him to go out. The last place he wanted to be was the bar, where he was the most likely to get the questions and the looks. The last thing he wanted to hear was Anoop saying he needed to "get over it" one more time, because Anoop just didn't get that it wasn't about heartbreak, it was about embarrassment. And... and about shame.
Maybe the shame was the worst part, really.
Kris felt ashamed of himself for letting himself believe in... whatever the thing with Adam was. He could have easily - and happily - just spent the time he was given with Adam enjoying it for what it was. He wouldn't have minded just being Adam's boy while he was in town, he would've taken those memories gladly and relished them. It would've been special enough - he didn't need to believe there was anything more there. He felt sick at the thought of having been so naive, so excited about what he had taken to be a promise. Why was he such an idiot? He felt like he'd been used - played with - and stupid for letting it happen. Which in turn made him feel angry.
And really, the anger was the worst part. Because Adam hadn't had to make Kris believe there was more. He could've said "thanks, had a great time," and been on his way. He didn't have to ask Kris to sing for him. He certainly didn't have to say he'd help him record a demo. And most of all, he didn't have to wrap his arms around Kris and kiss his temple, he didn't have to hum into his ear and soothe him. He didn't have to make Kris feel like there was a connection there, like Adam cared about him as more than a hookup. If he'd treated him like a hookup, Kris could've been OK with that and moved on, but instead he had made him wait and hope. He'd made Kris jump every time his phone rang, made him hate himself more and more for it as time went on. Made him cringe at the sound of its ring, eventually. Adam had made Kris envision a future for himself different from anything he'd thought possible before. He didn't assume he'd be with Adam forever and he didn't imagine himself to be Adam's main priority, but he thought if he could get to LA and make a demo, he could just stay there and shop it around. And you never know, maybe... maybe.
Kris hated Adam for giving him those possibilities and then taking them away.
And that was the worst part. Hating Adam was horrible. Kris didn't want to hate Adam; he had always loved loving him. He missed loving him. He'd had so many dreams about him, so many elaborate and gorgeous fantasies about this beautiful, impossible man. They were lovely and harmless and made him happy, and now they were gone. Maybe losing them was the worst part. Except it wasn't, because now instead of fantasies he had memories, and that was even worse. Kris could close his eyes and feel Adam's mouth, his hands, his skin, his breath. He could remember every kiss and touch, every noise Adam had made and every one he'd wrenched from Kris. And where the fantasies had been a beautiful safe place for Kris, the memories were nothing but hurt.
And the fantasies weren't all he'd lost. He'd also lost his song, and that was the worst part. He couldn't sing that song anymore; whenever he tried he imagined Adam's smile when Kris had played the last chord for him and opened his eyes. He remembered Adam's voice softly humming as he sang, remembered the thrill that had gone through him when he'd realized he wasn't just singing for Adam, but with him. Now that song was just a dirge to something that had never really been, stripped forever of its original intent and meaning, and Kris couldn't find the energy or the will to try to reclaim it. He just counted it as another loss.
So, OK. Maybe he was heartbroken. But feeling heartbroken just made him feel pathetic and stupid, which made him embarrassed, which made him angry, which made him sad. And, seriously, fuck the whole thing. Kris was so sick of thinking about it he could scream. He just couldn't manage to stop.
He kept remembering the moment Adam had programmed his number into his phone. Kris had rattled it off to him in a daze, realizing that the very first time Adam called him, he'd be able to type "Adam Lambert" into his contacts. That seemed so monumental, it didn't even occur to him that he could ask for the number right then; he'd never even considered that reciprocation here would be appropriate. He'd just given Adam his number and trusted that he would call. He guessed Adam probably wouldn't have given him his number even if he'd asked for it, though, especially now that Kris couldn't stop wondering if Adam had even really put his number in there. Maybe he'd entered a blank, or maybe he'd saved the number as "do not call." Maybe he'd just been pretending. But why would he do that? What would be the point? He didn't seem like the kind of guy who would be so casually cruel, but then Kris probably knew a lot less about him than he thought.
Maybe he'd just forgotten about him completely. Kris imagined Adam someday going through his contacts, seeing his name and saying "Who the hell is Kris Allen?" and deleting it. That was the worst.
It didn't help that everywhere he looked, Adam was there. When he had gone out for coffee today, there Adam had been staring up at him from the magazine rack. Another cover of Rolling Stone. It was a close-up of his face, his black hair with its flame-red streak combed forward over his eyes. He was staring up through the strands, his eyes smokey and intense. His tongue was peeking out, licking his lips. His shoulders were bare, and the background was red and black satin, like he was laying on a bed and looking up. The overall effect was like a punch to Kris's gut. Just like every time he saw him on TV, every gossip show blurb about him, every time his videos came on MTV, every awards show appearance.
The worst thing was that he couldn't escape Adam.
So why the fuck did he buy the damn magazine?
Here he was on a Saturday night, sitting on his couch, staring at Adam's face on the cover of Rolling Stone, going through his pathetic-embarrassed-angry-sad loop and trying to ignore the sound of his phone ringing. It was just Anoop trying to get him out, and he was so not interested in having that conversation again. Someday he'd sort this thing out, shake it off and be normal again. But someday was not today, as much as he wished it could be. Today he was facing off with a magazine that made him feel full of rage and loss, and was hating himself for both things.
The headline on the magazine was "In Bed With Adam Lambert." Kris kind of wanted to laugh at that, but couldn't manage it. He also wanted to open the stupid thing and look at the other pictures and read the article, but he hadn't managed that yet either. He sighed and stood up, throwing the magazine onto the couch. This night was worthless, he decided, and it was time to put an end to it. He headed down the hall toward his bedroom, turning off lights as he went, hoping that sitting alone in his apartment doing battle with a glossy picture was his rock bottom and that he'd wake up tomorrow on an upswing.
He didn't so much as glance at his phone as he walked away.
---------
As Kris stumbled down the hall into his living room, the phone was ringing and he had no idea what time it was. He had a feeling he'd slept late; judging by the light pouring in the windows it was probably getting close to noon, and he groaned a bit at that. Going to bed early and then sleeping half the day didn't really strike him as "upswing" type behavior. Oh well, he thought, rubbing his eyes and reaching for the phone, maybe this just means I'll be well-rested for a good day.
A little positive thinking couldn't hurt, right?
"Hello?" he said, trying not to sound sleepy.
"Hey man," said Anoop. "How's it going?"
"Not bad, I guess," Kris said. "I was just about to call you back."
"Call me back? For what?"
"Last night. The phone was ringing just when I was gonna go to bed, but I was kind of wiped and figured I'd just talk to you today. What's up?"
"I didn't call you last night," Anoop said. "Matt and I ended up just coming home after dinner, we didn't even go out. Watched a movie. You know." Yeah, Kris thought. I know.
"Huh," Kris said.
"I just wanted to know if you wanted to grab lunch with us in a bit. We're thinking Tito's. Up for it?"
"Yeah, sure, man," Kris said. "What time is it?"
Anoop laughed. "Just after eleven right now. Did you just wake up?"
"No," Kris said, in a tone that clearly said yes, want to make something of it? Anoop laughed again. "Anyway, yeah, lunch sounds good. See you there in an hour?"
"Right on," Anoop said.
Kris flipped his phone shut and put it down before heading to the kitchen. He was yawning and fumbling with the coffee filters when he remembered that he should probably check his phone - nobody but his friends would call him so late in the evening, and if there hadn't been anything going on at the bar last night he couldn't imagine who could have been trying to reach him. His stomach dropped when he considered that it could've been his mom or some other family member - they wouldn't call that late unless something was wrong. He dropped the filters and turned to head back to the living room, grabbing his phone off the arm of the couch where he'd left it. His eyes flicked over to the magazine that was still lying there, and he reached over to hastily flip it face-down as he opened his phone.
Unknown Caller
Voicemail: 1
He just stood there staring at it for a few seconds. He wondered if he was late on any bills, if this could be a collection thing. That had happened before. He knew he wasn't, though, and that that wasn't it at all. Finally he pushed the button to call voicemail and put the phone to his ear, his body breaking out in goosebumps when the message started to play.
Hey, Kris, it's Adam! Remember me? He laughed there, and Kris simultaneously thought how gorgeous his laugh was and how pompous he sounded. Give me a call when you get this! Bye.
That's it? Kris thought, then listened to it again. After all this time, he gets give me a call? And he didn't even mention the fact that he'd been home from tour for four months, that it had been almost six since he'd seen Kris. No "sorry it's taken me so long," or "man, things have been crazy lately." Nothing. Just give me a call. And his stupid little laugh... oh sure, of course Kris remembers him, there'd been no question of that, had there? The question was whether Adam would remember Kris, wasn't it? Kris chuckled bitterly.
Took him long enough.
Kris exhaled, throwing his phone down on the couch beside the magazine and then just staring at it for a moment as he ran his hands through his hair. He decided to skip coffee and just get ready for his lunch. He turned, heading back down the hall toward his bedroom to get dressed.
--------
"Oh my God!" Matt said, his eyes looking like they were about to pop right out of his head. "Did he answer when you called him back? What did he say?"
"I didn't call him back," Kris said, taking a bite of a salsa-dipped chip and looking around for the waiter. He was ready to order.
"What? Why not?" Anoop said.
"Because I don't want to," Kris said, shrugging. "I'm mad at him."
"What? What for?"
"Where've you been the last few months, man?" Kris said. "I've been kind of screwed up about this whole thing, and him calling out of the blue four months later and saying give me a call isn't going to just take that away."
His friends both gaped at him for a moment before Matt finally said, "have you lost your damn mind?"
"No, I haven't. I think I'm being very rational."
"Adam Lambert called you."
"Yes."
"And you're not calling him back."
"I didn't say I wasn't going to call him back ever," Kris said. "But no, I didn't immediately call him back the second I got the message. Which was just like an hour ago, by the way, so I don't think that counts as losing my damn mind."
"Let me hear the message," Anoop said, reaching out to Kris with gimme hands. Kris pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialed into his voicemail and handed the phone to Anoop. Matt leaned over to put his head against Anoop's so they could both listen. When it was over, Matt shrugged.
"I don't see what's so offensive about that message," he said.
"You don't see what's so offensive about leaving somebody a message four months after you said you'd call, with no explanation whatsoever or even acknowledgment that it's four months later? Nothing at all?"
"He's a rock star, dude," Matt said. "He's got better things to do than keep in touch with all his hookups. Sorry if that hurts your feelings or whatever, but you should be happy he called you at all."
Kris shook his head. "Well, I'm not just happy that he called," Kris said. "And if that means I'm crazy, whatever. I don't care. The reason I liked him and wanted him to call was because he treated me like a real person, and didn't act like a rock star around me. If he'd wanted me to just blow him he could've said so and I would've done it with a happy fucking smile on my face. That's not what he did and it's not why I gave him my fucking number, and I can't be that guy now. It's too late for it. So either he's real with me or I'm not interested."
"You are crazy," Anoop said. "Seriously. That's some of the dumbest shit I've ever heard."
"Your opinion," Kris said, sipping his water.
"You have to call him back," Matt said.
"I probably will, eventually," Kris said, sighing. "I don't see the harm in making him wait a little bit, though."
"He's not your boyfriend," Anoop said. "It's not like he owes you anything. I don't get why you're so pissed about this. He left you a voicemail, he obviously wants to talk to you. Why play hard to get?"
"I'm not playing," Kris said. "I just... I either want to be something to him, or nothing. I thought I was something for a while, and then I realized I was an idiot for thinking that, and I've been spending the last long while trying to get used to being nothing again. Which has been hard, you guys, sorry. I know you don't get it. But trust me on that, OK? I don't want it to be a roller coaster... I don't want to start this whole process over again tomorrow, because it has sucked. And I'm just... ready to be done with it. I don't want to talk to him once and then be right back to waiting for him again. He might... he might be Adam fucking Lambert, but he's just a guy who blew me off to me now, and I am not interested in that kind of game."
"Maybe he wants you to come to LA, finally," Anoop said.
"Yeah? Why now, all of a sudden?"
"I guess you won't know unless you call him, will you?"
"No, I guess I won't."
The waiter approached the table to take their order, and Kris did his best to keep the subject as far away from Adam Lambert as he could for the rest of the meal. He didn't completely succeed, and Matt and Anoop told him he was crazy a few more times and he tried to brush them off and hold his ground, but he was beginning to wonder if maybe he was crazy.
As he said goodbye to them and left the restaurant, Kris walked toward his car considering his position. Everything in him was saying that Adam was human. A person who was well-known, but still a person. Yes, he had a fabulous life and his schedule consisted of concerts and photo shoots and interviews and studio time. He hung out with famous people and had money and a fast car and was stalked by the paparazzi. But despite his extraordinary circumstances, he was still just a guy. Yeah, Kris imagined he was busy. He was sure he had a million things to do. But was he so busy that he couldn't find five minutes to make a phone call? Was Kris being a big stupid baby by being hurt that he hadn't? Adam knew what his life was like, if he thought there was no chance he'd have time to bring Kris out, to so much as talk to him on the phone, why had he said he would? As far as Kris could tell, that was a lapsed promise, and being famous didn't excuse it. Being famous didn't make Kris any less hurt at being forgotten. Kris was only human, too.
But why did that message piss him off so much? Back when he'd still had hope that Adam would call, he had always imagined doing a joyful jig when he finally heard his voice on the phone. Even in October, November, when things were getting bleak and Kris's mood was approaching bedrock, he still always hoped for Adam to call. He still always thought that would make him happy. So why now was he so angry about it?
Because he'd been miserable with regret, Kris thought, while Adam just sounded happy and breezy as could be. As if he hadn't shaken Kris's world and made it miserable with a casual encounter.
Because that five second voicemail made clear that Kris had been the only one damaged. Because Kris had nothing to damage Adam with, and he was at Adam's mercy.
He didn't like that feeling. Yeah, he'd been starstruck at first. But Adam brought himself down to earth in Kris's eyes over their short time together and become a boy, just a boy who had casually hurt him and then proved with a belated phone call and way too-short message that it hadn't affected him a bit.
Kris got into his car and started it, turned on the radio and started driving. He drove around town for a while, then hit the highway and drove some more. He wasn't heading anywhere in particular; he just listened to music, switched the station when Adam came on, sang along to some old favorites, and tried to clear his mind. He lost track of time and eventually realized he was very far from home. He didn't want to go back, but running didn't seem to be helping all that much when his phone was still in his pocket, heavy with Adam's phone number.
It was late in the afternoon when he pointed the car back toward home, and after sunset when he pulled into his apartment complex.
As he walked into his living room he saw the magazine laying on the couch and sighed. He remembered the night before, feeling like he was fighting that stupid thing. So now was he going to spend a night fighting a magazine and his phone? What was the point of all of this?
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone as he plopped down on the couch. Looking down at it, he realized there was no point in making Adam wait, because Adam wouldn't even notice. Kris was holding out when he had nothing to withhold. He was only making himself wait, and he would never know what the hell had made Adam call him all of a sudden if he didn't call him back. Maybe talking to Adam would be good, he thought. Maybe it would be better closure than the hollow satisfaction of not jumping when Adam said hop.
Kris startled when his phone started ringing in his hand. His mouth dropped open in surprise when Unknown Caller came up on the screen. As he shook his head in disbelief, he also chuckled a bit: so he hadn't ended up reverently saving Adam's number the very first time he called. Go figure that.
He took a deep breath, then opened his phone and brought it to his ear.
"Hello?" he said, almost satisfied with the level of calm he projected.
"Hey. Is this Kris?" Adam sounded a little less bubbly this time.
"Yeah. Hey, Adam."
"Hey," Adam said again, an odd, questioning note to his voice. "You OK?"
"Fine, yeah," Kris said, fiddling with his shirt now and pretty much completely at a loss for what to say. "You?"
"Good, good," Adam said. "Um, did you get my message?"
"I did. I was sleeping when you called but I got it this morning."
"You didn't call me back."
"I was just about to, actually," Kris said.
"Oh, cool," Adam said. "I guess I got kind of impatient." He laughed, soft and quick. Just a little awkward.
Kris stood up, running one hand through his hair. He started to pace, doing slow laps around his coffee table.
"Not used to waiting, I guess," he said.
"No, I guess I'm not," Adam said. Kris could hear the confusion rising in his voice, could practically see his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to figure out what was happening in this conversation.
There was a stretched out moment of silence, but Kris forced himself not to be the first one to speak.
"So," Adam said, finally. "What's up?"
"Nothing, really," Kris sighed. This wasn't going well at all. "Um, listen, is there a reason you called?"
"Well, yeah," Adam said. "I... well, I said I would, right?"
"Yes, you did say you would. But I had kind of given up hope on that, so."
"Oh," Adam said. "Yeah... my schedule is nuts, man, you wouldn't believe the way time flies past me."
"I bet."
"Are you really mad?"
Kris exhaled loudly, shrugging despite the fact that he knew Adam couldn't see him. "Well," he said. "I guess I kind of am, yeah."
"I thought you'd be happy to hear from me," Adam said. "I didn't think... I mean, I didn't know there was like an expiration date."
"You called me last night, and then when I didn't call you back you tried me again less than 24 hours later; you just said you were getting impatient. You said you'd call me when you got home in August."
"Hey," Adam said, a little louder now, sounding a bit irritated. "My life isn't simple, OK? You need to understand that I have about a billion things going on every single day, the fact that I can remember where I live on a daily basis is a miracle. A few months go by and it seems like days. I didn't... I didn't tell you I'd call you the second I got home, alright? I just said that I would. And now I have."
"OK, fine," Kris said. "Great."
"What do you want me to say?"
"'I'm sorry' would be a good start."
"Well, OK, I'm sorry that you had to wait. But seriously, what did you think was going to happen?"
"Not this. I guess I thought you were serious. Scratch that... I don't know what I was thinking."
"I was serious. Kris, I'm on the phone right now. Would you rather I hadn't called? Do you want me to hang up? Because seriously, I don't need somebody else to fight with."
Kris hung his head, stopping his pacing as he rubbed his forehead. "No," he said. "I don't want you to hang up. I just."
"What?"
"Well," he took a deep breath. "You said that you liked that I was real, right?"
"Yes, I do like that."
"This is me being real."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I'm pissed, and I don't think that's unreasonable. I was excited about you. Excited about singing for you, and... about everything. Everything that you said. That you seemed to give a shit about me. And I thought you liked me. Whatever your schedule is, when a guy doesn't call for half a year, that doesn't really scream I like you to me, OK? So forgive me if I got a little pissy about it. I had given up on you, and everything that I had been excited about. And that fucking sucked. So you calling and saying you've been really busy doesn't make up for all that. If you want me to be real, I would appreciate it if you could be, too."
"OK," Adam said, exhaling loudly into the phone.
"I... I was a big fan of yours," Kris said.
"Was?"
"Yeah, was. I know you knew it. And maybe you thought of me as just a fanboy, and maybe you expected I would jump for joy just because the rock star called me. But I don't really think of you as rock star Adam anymore, that's not what I want you to be. I wasn't excited for you to call me like I won a fucking radio contest or something, OK? Like it was something you could push back whenever your schedule got cramped. I thought you actually wanted to call me, as like a person. A friend, maybe. Or... whatever, I don't know. Maybe I was wrong about that. But I didn't expect it would take so long, so I was disappointed. Like in the way you'd be pissed if you gave a guy your number and he said he would call but never did. When that happens, do you stop and think 'oh, well, maybe he's really busy at work and just couldn't get around to it'?" Kris sighed. "Never mind. I guess that probably doesn't happen to you, but try to imagine it anyway."
"It has happened to me," Adam said. "More often than you'd think."
"OK then," Kris said. "So, that's what it's been like for me. Now maybe we understand each other."
"Yeah," Adam said. "Kris, I am sorry. I didn't really think of it like that. But I'm not... I'm not trying to be your boyfriend or anything. You get that, right? I never meant to imply anything... like that."
"I know that."
"Do you?"
"Yes, I do. The problem may be that I don't know really what you want from me, actually. I've been sitting around waiting to hear from you like a pathetic moron, and I don't even know what for."
"I like you."
"And?"
"And I wanted to talk to you. I wasn't trying to mess with you, Kris. And I didn't forget about you. I did have a good time with you and... and I remembered you like I don't, usually, with guys I meet on tour. I remember your song, I remember your voice and... I knew I would get around to calling you eventually, it just. It just took me a while."
"No kidding."
"So are you saying you don't like me anymore? Is that it?"
"No," Kris said. "That's not it. I do like you. I wouldn't be upset... I wouldn't still be talking to you if I didn't."
"OK," Adam said. "That's good." He paused, and then, "man, this is not how I thought this would go."
"Sorry to disappoint you."
"I don't even think I'm disappointed. Just surprised. And not... totally in a bad way."
"Really?"
"Yeah," Adam said, and sighed, sounding thoughtful.
They were quiet for a few moments. Kris flopped back onto his couch, closing his eyes and resting his head back on the cushions, trying to suppress the surge of excitement that was bubbling back up. Trying not to let himself be happy that Adam seemed to understand where he was coming from, that he still seemed interested in him in some way, even if Kris still didn't understand what he was after. If Adam was playing with him he wasn't sure he could stand it, but Kris didn't get the feeling that he was playing. He didn't understand all the feelings he was experiencing, wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel when somebody who had been a distant hero to him had become so concrete. So real. The love he'd had for him as an icon had mostly washed away, but it was still there, still nibbling at the back of his mind and reminding him who he was speaking to. At the same time, the oddly familiar feelings of hope and confusion - what he would feel when he was wrangling with any crush, talking to any boy he wanted to get close to - were making his heart ache. He felt dizzy.
"Kris," Adam said.
"Yeah?"
"I have to go now," his voice was soft, now. The same gentle tone he'd used in the dressing room, his arms wrapped around Kris as he shook.
"OK," Kris said.
"I want to talk to you again, though. I want to... well. Listen, I don't think I have anything tomorrow night. Can I call you?"
Adam was asking permission to call him. How fucking adorable was that?
"Yes," Kris said, a big stupid grin forcing its way onto his face. "You definitely can."
"You promise you won't bitch at me?"
"No promises," Kris said with a shaky laugh. "Don't give me anything to bitch at you for and you'll have a better shot at it."
"I'll do my best," Adam said, laughing a bit in return. "And I'll try not to keep you waiting. Have a good night, OK?"
"You too."
Kris hung up the phone and found himself completely unable to make his smile go away. That seemed weird, considering that the conversation had been mostly unpleasant. But he felt hopeful, and if Adam really did call him again tomorrow it would be major, and Kris couldn't contain his anticipation. Before closing the phone he saved the number into his contacts, feeling as lightheaded as he'd known he would when he typed in Adam's name. With a sigh, he grabbed the Rolling Stone off the couch and opened it.
Part Four.
Author: itsmadeofgold
Rating: R (language, sexual references)
Word Count: ~5800 (LOL)
Beta: norosegarden and cjdmomma
Summary: Part Three of fanboy!Kris AU, which I'm going to have to give an over-arching title soon because it has become a much bigger story and this individual titles thing is going to get confusing. Plus, I don't like thinking of Kris as a fanboy anymore. This isn't going to be what you expected, but I hope you'll come with me on it anyway.
A/N: Remember when I said that thing about writing a fanboy!Adam flip? Yeah, forget about that for now. I'm so excited about this story now I kind of feel like I want to live here forever. This is apparently what happens when I try to drabble.
Thanks to binkleywtf for the best drabble prompt ever and to norosegarden for helping me find this story in it. ♥
Previous chapters: You Walked Into The Room | Just Like The Ocean
It wasn't that he was heartbroken.
He was disappointed and sad and embarrassed, more than anything. Maybe embarrassed most of all, but the worst thing kept changing in his mind. Every time he thought about it - which was often enough that he was embarrassed at that alone - there was a new worst thing.
It was almost Christmas, and Kris hadn't heard from Adam at all. Not so much as a text. The tour had ended the last week of August with a show in Orlando, and Kris had anticipated that date fiercely, practically counting down to it like it represented a major event in his life. He was impatient but understanding afterward, as the first several weeks went by without hearing from Adam. He'd been able to rationalize the lack of contact throughout the rest of the tour by repeating to himself that Adam was busy and sought-after (not to mention nothing close to being his boyfriend), and that he'd never said he'd keep in touch throughout the tour. He had only said he'd call when it was over, that he'd like Kris to come out to LA then. So it wasn't until after the tour ended that he started really watching his phone. And it wasn't until September was almost over that he started wondering if he was going to hear from Adam at all.
It wasn't until Halloween that he began to try to break it to himself that maybe he never was. By Thanksgiving, he had stopped watching his phone.
And now it was December, and the internal monologue that he could never quite turn off centered almost entirely on trying to decide what the worst thing was.
The worst thing was the humiliation. Kris had told Matt and Anoop what Adam had said; he had been vibrating with excitement after his meeting with Adam in the dressing room and just could not contain himself. He went on and on about how he had sung for him, how Adam had loved it, how... how he had cuddled him and treated him like a lover, how he had said he wanted to see him again. How he had offered to help him make a demo. How they had seemed to make a connection and how it was more than Kris had ever imagined it could be. That it felt real. When he thought back on that conversation now he cringed, because he had been so nakedly excited and his friends had looked at him with expressions both pleased and indulgent, like they were happy for him but didn't really believe it. But Kris had thought, oh, they'll see, because he knew it was true.
They had told other people, too. The story had gotten around. He'd been asked by friends and acquaintances alike - people he'd never talked to about it - if he'd heard from Adam yet, if he knew when he was going to LA. At first he didn't mind, because hell, he could help being proud of it. But then time had passed, and the questions got irritating and he wished nobody knew. And then he started being a little snippy about it and people stopped asking, and instead just looked at him with pity and asked him how things were going. He hated that.
But what he hated even more was Anoop's constant calling him and trying to get him to go out. The last place he wanted to be was the bar, where he was the most likely to get the questions and the looks. The last thing he wanted to hear was Anoop saying he needed to "get over it" one more time, because Anoop just didn't get that it wasn't about heartbreak, it was about embarrassment. And... and about shame.
Maybe the shame was the worst part, really.
Kris felt ashamed of himself for letting himself believe in... whatever the thing with Adam was. He could have easily - and happily - just spent the time he was given with Adam enjoying it for what it was. He wouldn't have minded just being Adam's boy while he was in town, he would've taken those memories gladly and relished them. It would've been special enough - he didn't need to believe there was anything more there. He felt sick at the thought of having been so naive, so excited about what he had taken to be a promise. Why was he such an idiot? He felt like he'd been used - played with - and stupid for letting it happen. Which in turn made him feel angry.
And really, the anger was the worst part. Because Adam hadn't had to make Kris believe there was more. He could've said "thanks, had a great time," and been on his way. He didn't have to ask Kris to sing for him. He certainly didn't have to say he'd help him record a demo. And most of all, he didn't have to wrap his arms around Kris and kiss his temple, he didn't have to hum into his ear and soothe him. He didn't have to make Kris feel like there was a connection there, like Adam cared about him as more than a hookup. If he'd treated him like a hookup, Kris could've been OK with that and moved on, but instead he had made him wait and hope. He'd made Kris jump every time his phone rang, made him hate himself more and more for it as time went on. Made him cringe at the sound of its ring, eventually. Adam had made Kris envision a future for himself different from anything he'd thought possible before. He didn't assume he'd be with Adam forever and he didn't imagine himself to be Adam's main priority, but he thought if he could get to LA and make a demo, he could just stay there and shop it around. And you never know, maybe... maybe.
Kris hated Adam for giving him those possibilities and then taking them away.
And that was the worst part. Hating Adam was horrible. Kris didn't want to hate Adam; he had always loved loving him. He missed loving him. He'd had so many dreams about him, so many elaborate and gorgeous fantasies about this beautiful, impossible man. They were lovely and harmless and made him happy, and now they were gone. Maybe losing them was the worst part. Except it wasn't, because now instead of fantasies he had memories, and that was even worse. Kris could close his eyes and feel Adam's mouth, his hands, his skin, his breath. He could remember every kiss and touch, every noise Adam had made and every one he'd wrenched from Kris. And where the fantasies had been a beautiful safe place for Kris, the memories were nothing but hurt.
And the fantasies weren't all he'd lost. He'd also lost his song, and that was the worst part. He couldn't sing that song anymore; whenever he tried he imagined Adam's smile when Kris had played the last chord for him and opened his eyes. He remembered Adam's voice softly humming as he sang, remembered the thrill that had gone through him when he'd realized he wasn't just singing for Adam, but with him. Now that song was just a dirge to something that had never really been, stripped forever of its original intent and meaning, and Kris couldn't find the energy or the will to try to reclaim it. He just counted it as another loss.
So, OK. Maybe he was heartbroken. But feeling heartbroken just made him feel pathetic and stupid, which made him embarrassed, which made him angry, which made him sad. And, seriously, fuck the whole thing. Kris was so sick of thinking about it he could scream. He just couldn't manage to stop.
He kept remembering the moment Adam had programmed his number into his phone. Kris had rattled it off to him in a daze, realizing that the very first time Adam called him, he'd be able to type "Adam Lambert" into his contacts. That seemed so monumental, it didn't even occur to him that he could ask for the number right then; he'd never even considered that reciprocation here would be appropriate. He'd just given Adam his number and trusted that he would call. He guessed Adam probably wouldn't have given him his number even if he'd asked for it, though, especially now that Kris couldn't stop wondering if Adam had even really put his number in there. Maybe he'd entered a blank, or maybe he'd saved the number as "do not call." Maybe he'd just been pretending. But why would he do that? What would be the point? He didn't seem like the kind of guy who would be so casually cruel, but then Kris probably knew a lot less about him than he thought.
Maybe he'd just forgotten about him completely. Kris imagined Adam someday going through his contacts, seeing his name and saying "Who the hell is Kris Allen?" and deleting it. That was the worst.
It didn't help that everywhere he looked, Adam was there. When he had gone out for coffee today, there Adam had been staring up at him from the magazine rack. Another cover of Rolling Stone. It was a close-up of his face, his black hair with its flame-red streak combed forward over his eyes. He was staring up through the strands, his eyes smokey and intense. His tongue was peeking out, licking his lips. His shoulders were bare, and the background was red and black satin, like he was laying on a bed and looking up. The overall effect was like a punch to Kris's gut. Just like every time he saw him on TV, every gossip show blurb about him, every time his videos came on MTV, every awards show appearance.
The worst thing was that he couldn't escape Adam.
So why the fuck did he buy the damn magazine?
Here he was on a Saturday night, sitting on his couch, staring at Adam's face on the cover of Rolling Stone, going through his pathetic-embarrassed-angry-sad loop and trying to ignore the sound of his phone ringing. It was just Anoop trying to get him out, and he was so not interested in having that conversation again. Someday he'd sort this thing out, shake it off and be normal again. But someday was not today, as much as he wished it could be. Today he was facing off with a magazine that made him feel full of rage and loss, and was hating himself for both things.
The headline on the magazine was "In Bed With Adam Lambert." Kris kind of wanted to laugh at that, but couldn't manage it. He also wanted to open the stupid thing and look at the other pictures and read the article, but he hadn't managed that yet either. He sighed and stood up, throwing the magazine onto the couch. This night was worthless, he decided, and it was time to put an end to it. He headed down the hall toward his bedroom, turning off lights as he went, hoping that sitting alone in his apartment doing battle with a glossy picture was his rock bottom and that he'd wake up tomorrow on an upswing.
He didn't so much as glance at his phone as he walked away.
---------
As Kris stumbled down the hall into his living room, the phone was ringing and he had no idea what time it was. He had a feeling he'd slept late; judging by the light pouring in the windows it was probably getting close to noon, and he groaned a bit at that. Going to bed early and then sleeping half the day didn't really strike him as "upswing" type behavior. Oh well, he thought, rubbing his eyes and reaching for the phone, maybe this just means I'll be well-rested for a good day.
A little positive thinking couldn't hurt, right?
"Hello?" he said, trying not to sound sleepy.
"Hey man," said Anoop. "How's it going?"
"Not bad, I guess," Kris said. "I was just about to call you back."
"Call me back? For what?"
"Last night. The phone was ringing just when I was gonna go to bed, but I was kind of wiped and figured I'd just talk to you today. What's up?"
"I didn't call you last night," Anoop said. "Matt and I ended up just coming home after dinner, we didn't even go out. Watched a movie. You know." Yeah, Kris thought. I know.
"Huh," Kris said.
"I just wanted to know if you wanted to grab lunch with us in a bit. We're thinking Tito's. Up for it?"
"Yeah, sure, man," Kris said. "What time is it?"
Anoop laughed. "Just after eleven right now. Did you just wake up?"
"No," Kris said, in a tone that clearly said yes, want to make something of it? Anoop laughed again. "Anyway, yeah, lunch sounds good. See you there in an hour?"
"Right on," Anoop said.
Kris flipped his phone shut and put it down before heading to the kitchen. He was yawning and fumbling with the coffee filters when he remembered that he should probably check his phone - nobody but his friends would call him so late in the evening, and if there hadn't been anything going on at the bar last night he couldn't imagine who could have been trying to reach him. His stomach dropped when he considered that it could've been his mom or some other family member - they wouldn't call that late unless something was wrong. He dropped the filters and turned to head back to the living room, grabbing his phone off the arm of the couch where he'd left it. His eyes flicked over to the magazine that was still lying there, and he reached over to hastily flip it face-down as he opened his phone.
Unknown Caller
Voicemail: 1
He just stood there staring at it for a few seconds. He wondered if he was late on any bills, if this could be a collection thing. That had happened before. He knew he wasn't, though, and that that wasn't it at all. Finally he pushed the button to call voicemail and put the phone to his ear, his body breaking out in goosebumps when the message started to play.
Hey, Kris, it's Adam! Remember me? He laughed there, and Kris simultaneously thought how gorgeous his laugh was and how pompous he sounded. Give me a call when you get this! Bye.
That's it? Kris thought, then listened to it again. After all this time, he gets give me a call? And he didn't even mention the fact that he'd been home from tour for four months, that it had been almost six since he'd seen Kris. No "sorry it's taken me so long," or "man, things have been crazy lately." Nothing. Just give me a call. And his stupid little laugh... oh sure, of course Kris remembers him, there'd been no question of that, had there? The question was whether Adam would remember Kris, wasn't it? Kris chuckled bitterly.
Took him long enough.
Kris exhaled, throwing his phone down on the couch beside the magazine and then just staring at it for a moment as he ran his hands through his hair. He decided to skip coffee and just get ready for his lunch. He turned, heading back down the hall toward his bedroom to get dressed.
--------
"Oh my God!" Matt said, his eyes looking like they were about to pop right out of his head. "Did he answer when you called him back? What did he say?"
"I didn't call him back," Kris said, taking a bite of a salsa-dipped chip and looking around for the waiter. He was ready to order.
"What? Why not?" Anoop said.
"Because I don't want to," Kris said, shrugging. "I'm mad at him."
"What? What for?"
"Where've you been the last few months, man?" Kris said. "I've been kind of screwed up about this whole thing, and him calling out of the blue four months later and saying give me a call isn't going to just take that away."
His friends both gaped at him for a moment before Matt finally said, "have you lost your damn mind?"
"No, I haven't. I think I'm being very rational."
"Adam Lambert called you."
"Yes."
"And you're not calling him back."
"I didn't say I wasn't going to call him back ever," Kris said. "But no, I didn't immediately call him back the second I got the message. Which was just like an hour ago, by the way, so I don't think that counts as losing my damn mind."
"Let me hear the message," Anoop said, reaching out to Kris with gimme hands. Kris pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialed into his voicemail and handed the phone to Anoop. Matt leaned over to put his head against Anoop's so they could both listen. When it was over, Matt shrugged.
"I don't see what's so offensive about that message," he said.
"You don't see what's so offensive about leaving somebody a message four months after you said you'd call, with no explanation whatsoever or even acknowledgment that it's four months later? Nothing at all?"
"He's a rock star, dude," Matt said. "He's got better things to do than keep in touch with all his hookups. Sorry if that hurts your feelings or whatever, but you should be happy he called you at all."
Kris shook his head. "Well, I'm not just happy that he called," Kris said. "And if that means I'm crazy, whatever. I don't care. The reason I liked him and wanted him to call was because he treated me like a real person, and didn't act like a rock star around me. If he'd wanted me to just blow him he could've said so and I would've done it with a happy fucking smile on my face. That's not what he did and it's not why I gave him my fucking number, and I can't be that guy now. It's too late for it. So either he's real with me or I'm not interested."
"You are crazy," Anoop said. "Seriously. That's some of the dumbest shit I've ever heard."
"Your opinion," Kris said, sipping his water.
"You have to call him back," Matt said.
"I probably will, eventually," Kris said, sighing. "I don't see the harm in making him wait a little bit, though."
"He's not your boyfriend," Anoop said. "It's not like he owes you anything. I don't get why you're so pissed about this. He left you a voicemail, he obviously wants to talk to you. Why play hard to get?"
"I'm not playing," Kris said. "I just... I either want to be something to him, or nothing. I thought I was something for a while, and then I realized I was an idiot for thinking that, and I've been spending the last long while trying to get used to being nothing again. Which has been hard, you guys, sorry. I know you don't get it. But trust me on that, OK? I don't want it to be a roller coaster... I don't want to start this whole process over again tomorrow, because it has sucked. And I'm just... ready to be done with it. I don't want to talk to him once and then be right back to waiting for him again. He might... he might be Adam fucking Lambert, but he's just a guy who blew me off to me now, and I am not interested in that kind of game."
"Maybe he wants you to come to LA, finally," Anoop said.
"Yeah? Why now, all of a sudden?"
"I guess you won't know unless you call him, will you?"
"No, I guess I won't."
The waiter approached the table to take their order, and Kris did his best to keep the subject as far away from Adam Lambert as he could for the rest of the meal. He didn't completely succeed, and Matt and Anoop told him he was crazy a few more times and he tried to brush them off and hold his ground, but he was beginning to wonder if maybe he was crazy.
As he said goodbye to them and left the restaurant, Kris walked toward his car considering his position. Everything in him was saying that Adam was human. A person who was well-known, but still a person. Yes, he had a fabulous life and his schedule consisted of concerts and photo shoots and interviews and studio time. He hung out with famous people and had money and a fast car and was stalked by the paparazzi. But despite his extraordinary circumstances, he was still just a guy. Yeah, Kris imagined he was busy. He was sure he had a million things to do. But was he so busy that he couldn't find five minutes to make a phone call? Was Kris being a big stupid baby by being hurt that he hadn't? Adam knew what his life was like, if he thought there was no chance he'd have time to bring Kris out, to so much as talk to him on the phone, why had he said he would? As far as Kris could tell, that was a lapsed promise, and being famous didn't excuse it. Being famous didn't make Kris any less hurt at being forgotten. Kris was only human, too.
But why did that message piss him off so much? Back when he'd still had hope that Adam would call, he had always imagined doing a joyful jig when he finally heard his voice on the phone. Even in October, November, when things were getting bleak and Kris's mood was approaching bedrock, he still always hoped for Adam to call. He still always thought that would make him happy. So why now was he so angry about it?
Because he'd been miserable with regret, Kris thought, while Adam just sounded happy and breezy as could be. As if he hadn't shaken Kris's world and made it miserable with a casual encounter.
Because that five second voicemail made clear that Kris had been the only one damaged. Because Kris had nothing to damage Adam with, and he was at Adam's mercy.
He didn't like that feeling. Yeah, he'd been starstruck at first. But Adam brought himself down to earth in Kris's eyes over their short time together and become a boy, just a boy who had casually hurt him and then proved with a belated phone call and way too-short message that it hadn't affected him a bit.
Kris got into his car and started it, turned on the radio and started driving. He drove around town for a while, then hit the highway and drove some more. He wasn't heading anywhere in particular; he just listened to music, switched the station when Adam came on, sang along to some old favorites, and tried to clear his mind. He lost track of time and eventually realized he was very far from home. He didn't want to go back, but running didn't seem to be helping all that much when his phone was still in his pocket, heavy with Adam's phone number.
It was late in the afternoon when he pointed the car back toward home, and after sunset when he pulled into his apartment complex.
As he walked into his living room he saw the magazine laying on the couch and sighed. He remembered the night before, feeling like he was fighting that stupid thing. So now was he going to spend a night fighting a magazine and his phone? What was the point of all of this?
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone as he plopped down on the couch. Looking down at it, he realized there was no point in making Adam wait, because Adam wouldn't even notice. Kris was holding out when he had nothing to withhold. He was only making himself wait, and he would never know what the hell had made Adam call him all of a sudden if he didn't call him back. Maybe talking to Adam would be good, he thought. Maybe it would be better closure than the hollow satisfaction of not jumping when Adam said hop.
Kris startled when his phone started ringing in his hand. His mouth dropped open in surprise when Unknown Caller came up on the screen. As he shook his head in disbelief, he also chuckled a bit: so he hadn't ended up reverently saving Adam's number the very first time he called. Go figure that.
He took a deep breath, then opened his phone and brought it to his ear.
"Hello?" he said, almost satisfied with the level of calm he projected.
"Hey. Is this Kris?" Adam sounded a little less bubbly this time.
"Yeah. Hey, Adam."
"Hey," Adam said again, an odd, questioning note to his voice. "You OK?"
"Fine, yeah," Kris said, fiddling with his shirt now and pretty much completely at a loss for what to say. "You?"
"Good, good," Adam said. "Um, did you get my message?"
"I did. I was sleeping when you called but I got it this morning."
"You didn't call me back."
"I was just about to, actually," Kris said.
"Oh, cool," Adam said. "I guess I got kind of impatient." He laughed, soft and quick. Just a little awkward.
Kris stood up, running one hand through his hair. He started to pace, doing slow laps around his coffee table.
"Not used to waiting, I guess," he said.
"No, I guess I'm not," Adam said. Kris could hear the confusion rising in his voice, could practically see his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to figure out what was happening in this conversation.
There was a stretched out moment of silence, but Kris forced himself not to be the first one to speak.
"So," Adam said, finally. "What's up?"
"Nothing, really," Kris sighed. This wasn't going well at all. "Um, listen, is there a reason you called?"
"Well, yeah," Adam said. "I... well, I said I would, right?"
"Yes, you did say you would. But I had kind of given up hope on that, so."
"Oh," Adam said. "Yeah... my schedule is nuts, man, you wouldn't believe the way time flies past me."
"I bet."
"Are you really mad?"
Kris exhaled loudly, shrugging despite the fact that he knew Adam couldn't see him. "Well," he said. "I guess I kind of am, yeah."
"I thought you'd be happy to hear from me," Adam said. "I didn't think... I mean, I didn't know there was like an expiration date."
"You called me last night, and then when I didn't call you back you tried me again less than 24 hours later; you just said you were getting impatient. You said you'd call me when you got home in August."
"Hey," Adam said, a little louder now, sounding a bit irritated. "My life isn't simple, OK? You need to understand that I have about a billion things going on every single day, the fact that I can remember where I live on a daily basis is a miracle. A few months go by and it seems like days. I didn't... I didn't tell you I'd call you the second I got home, alright? I just said that I would. And now I have."
"OK, fine," Kris said. "Great."
"What do you want me to say?"
"'I'm sorry' would be a good start."
"Well, OK, I'm sorry that you had to wait. But seriously, what did you think was going to happen?"
"Not this. I guess I thought you were serious. Scratch that... I don't know what I was thinking."
"I was serious. Kris, I'm on the phone right now. Would you rather I hadn't called? Do you want me to hang up? Because seriously, I don't need somebody else to fight with."
Kris hung his head, stopping his pacing as he rubbed his forehead. "No," he said. "I don't want you to hang up. I just."
"What?"
"Well," he took a deep breath. "You said that you liked that I was real, right?"
"Yes, I do like that."
"This is me being real."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I'm pissed, and I don't think that's unreasonable. I was excited about you. Excited about singing for you, and... about everything. Everything that you said. That you seemed to give a shit about me. And I thought you liked me. Whatever your schedule is, when a guy doesn't call for half a year, that doesn't really scream I like you to me, OK? So forgive me if I got a little pissy about it. I had given up on you, and everything that I had been excited about. And that fucking sucked. So you calling and saying you've been really busy doesn't make up for all that. If you want me to be real, I would appreciate it if you could be, too."
"OK," Adam said, exhaling loudly into the phone.
"I... I was a big fan of yours," Kris said.
"Was?"
"Yeah, was. I know you knew it. And maybe you thought of me as just a fanboy, and maybe you expected I would jump for joy just because the rock star called me. But I don't really think of you as rock star Adam anymore, that's not what I want you to be. I wasn't excited for you to call me like I won a fucking radio contest or something, OK? Like it was something you could push back whenever your schedule got cramped. I thought you actually wanted to call me, as like a person. A friend, maybe. Or... whatever, I don't know. Maybe I was wrong about that. But I didn't expect it would take so long, so I was disappointed. Like in the way you'd be pissed if you gave a guy your number and he said he would call but never did. When that happens, do you stop and think 'oh, well, maybe he's really busy at work and just couldn't get around to it'?" Kris sighed. "Never mind. I guess that probably doesn't happen to you, but try to imagine it anyway."
"It has happened to me," Adam said. "More often than you'd think."
"OK then," Kris said. "So, that's what it's been like for me. Now maybe we understand each other."
"Yeah," Adam said. "Kris, I am sorry. I didn't really think of it like that. But I'm not... I'm not trying to be your boyfriend or anything. You get that, right? I never meant to imply anything... like that."
"I know that."
"Do you?"
"Yes, I do. The problem may be that I don't know really what you want from me, actually. I've been sitting around waiting to hear from you like a pathetic moron, and I don't even know what for."
"I like you."
"And?"
"And I wanted to talk to you. I wasn't trying to mess with you, Kris. And I didn't forget about you. I did have a good time with you and... and I remembered you like I don't, usually, with guys I meet on tour. I remember your song, I remember your voice and... I knew I would get around to calling you eventually, it just. It just took me a while."
"No kidding."
"So are you saying you don't like me anymore? Is that it?"
"No," Kris said. "That's not it. I do like you. I wouldn't be upset... I wouldn't still be talking to you if I didn't."
"OK," Adam said. "That's good." He paused, and then, "man, this is not how I thought this would go."
"Sorry to disappoint you."
"I don't even think I'm disappointed. Just surprised. And not... totally in a bad way."
"Really?"
"Yeah," Adam said, and sighed, sounding thoughtful.
They were quiet for a few moments. Kris flopped back onto his couch, closing his eyes and resting his head back on the cushions, trying to suppress the surge of excitement that was bubbling back up. Trying not to let himself be happy that Adam seemed to understand where he was coming from, that he still seemed interested in him in some way, even if Kris still didn't understand what he was after. If Adam was playing with him he wasn't sure he could stand it, but Kris didn't get the feeling that he was playing. He didn't understand all the feelings he was experiencing, wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel when somebody who had been a distant hero to him had become so concrete. So real. The love he'd had for him as an icon had mostly washed away, but it was still there, still nibbling at the back of his mind and reminding him who he was speaking to. At the same time, the oddly familiar feelings of hope and confusion - what he would feel when he was wrangling with any crush, talking to any boy he wanted to get close to - were making his heart ache. He felt dizzy.
"Kris," Adam said.
"Yeah?"
"I have to go now," his voice was soft, now. The same gentle tone he'd used in the dressing room, his arms wrapped around Kris as he shook.
"OK," Kris said.
"I want to talk to you again, though. I want to... well. Listen, I don't think I have anything tomorrow night. Can I call you?"
Adam was asking permission to call him. How fucking adorable was that?
"Yes," Kris said, a big stupid grin forcing its way onto his face. "You definitely can."
"You promise you won't bitch at me?"
"No promises," Kris said with a shaky laugh. "Don't give me anything to bitch at you for and you'll have a better shot at it."
"I'll do my best," Adam said, laughing a bit in return. "And I'll try not to keep you waiting. Have a good night, OK?"
"You too."
Kris hung up the phone and found himself completely unable to make his smile go away. That seemed weird, considering that the conversation had been mostly unpleasant. But he felt hopeful, and if Adam really did call him again tomorrow it would be major, and Kris couldn't contain his anticipation. Before closing the phone he saved the number into his contacts, feeling as lightheaded as he'd known he would when he typed in Adam's name. With a sigh, he grabbed the Rolling Stone off the couch and opened it.
Part Four.