Fic: Home is...where? (3/?)
Okay, okay, I couldn't wait until tomorrow to post this up. Hopefully chapter four will be up tomorrow, though. XD I'm starting to feel like I'm fic-spamming.
Title: Home is....where? (3/?)
Author: Ellelee
Pairing: Adam/Kris
Rating: PG-13 (higher in later chapters)
Summary: A day back home causes Kris some confusion, and returning to the mansion doesn't make it any better.
"Goodnight, Kris."
He had to clench his eyes shut tight, but it did nothing to hold back the surge of images that assaulted him, just hearing that quiet voice, that damn whispery sound, alone in the quiet room.
".....Goodnight, Adam."
~~~~~~
The next morning there didn't even seem to be time to wonder what was going on between them. When Kris woke up Adam was already in the bathroom, going to war with his cosmetics and hair products. He had been unfortunate enough to get caught up in that battle one morning, and had since learned to stay well out of the way until Adam was done.
Slipping his wedding ring back onto his finger, he stared down down at it for a moment, unsettled, until Danny's voice came through the door, warning them they were going to be late if they didn't hurry down.
Breakfast was it's usual rush, and though he tried to avoid looking at Adam too much, whenever he did, the older contestant just gave him that usual impish grin, like absolutely nothing different had happened the night before. It left his head spinning, and he was eternally grateful to their grueling schedule that had them eating even as they piled into the limo to head to the photo shoot.
He would have been content to pretend like everything was normal if Adam's hand hadn't landed on his thigh, and stayed there the entire fifteen minute ride. He could barely swallow the bagel he'd been eating around the lump in his throat.
He normally hated the photo shoots, but this one turned out to be particularly brutal, unable to concentrate on any sort of pose or expression when his mind was all churned up.
He'd kissed Adam.
Well, technically Adam had kissed him. But he hadn't fought the man off. Hell, he'd pretty much given him permission. It made him feel sick to his stomach, even as the memories of it excited him.
He barely had the awareness to grimace as the photographer reamed him out for being so useless, and he glanced over at Adam. Of course HE wasn't having any troubles. He looked like he'd been born in front of the camera, and the bright smiles and sultry looks came so easily to him.
Then again, maybe it was all easy to Adam. After all, he was well aware of his own sexuality and comfortable in it. And HE wasn't married, the jackass.
By the time he had managed to get some print-worthy shots, his head was throbbing with what could only be a skull-splitting migraine, and he whimpered as they were loaded back into the limo to head to rehearsals. Danny was already off in his own world, probably trying to figure out what arrangements he was going to use. Kris was still second-guessing his own song choice, part of him screaming not to take that risk. But those screams were like whispers under his preoccupation with Adam at his side.
And Adam, damn him, never seemed to miss a thing.
"Got a headache, baby?" The whisper in his ear made him shiver, and he clenched his eyes shut, trying his best to fight off the reaction. That was the last thing he needed right now. Cracking one eye open, he gave Adam a weak glare, as if to ask whose fault that was.
The older man just grinned at him, with that damn, irrepressible smile. Then he proved simply how shameless he was.
"Here, put your head in my lap. I'll help you with it."
Kris' eyes went painfully wide, and his eyes darted to Danny who seemed to not have noticed a thing, or was simply ignoring them. Was Adam really that blatant? The L-shaped back seat of the limo offered him plenty of room to lay out, but Adam's lap was an area he kinda wanted to avoid.
Still, that smile, and the pain of his headache were a powerful combination, and after a wary moment, he shifted, laying down on the seat, but made sure his head was simply on Adam's thigh, and not anywhere else, thank you very much.
It was clear that hadn't gone unnoticed, because Adam's chuckle washed over him like a caress and he cursed himself the worst kind of fool.
But then Adam's fingers were in his hair, rubbing at his temples, and he found himself melting into a puddle of goo. Not only did his headache seem to vanish, but every muscles in his body, which had been pretty damn tense, relaxed, and he let out a little sigh, that sounded something like a groan. His eyes were closed, so he didn't notice the odd glance Danny gave them, or the way the widower's eyes widened and he quickly looked away again.
Adam had incredible fingers, he decided, realizing even as he thought it that it was a dangerous revelation. If he could have that kind of effect just touching his head, after all, what could those hands do touching the rest of his body.
Inevitably the ideas came to mind, of those large, careful hands on his skin. He hadn't felt that yet, which seemed impossible, given how affectionately Adam touched everyone. But he couldn't seem to remember the man ever touching bare skin that wasn't on his hands. Odd. And it only served to tease him as he traitorously imagined how those hands would feel on his chest, his sides, his legs....It was a horrible thing to think about, and his wedding ring on his finger felt almost painfully tight, punishing him.
Biting his lip, he tried to banish the images, and just focus on the way those fingers were combing, gently, through his hair now, keeping the headache at bay. Somehow he managed to keep the guilt and the fantasy away enough that the soothing touches lulled him into sleep until the limo pulled up in front of the studio.
They had a brief rehearsal session, then they had to record their tracks for the week. the memory of it, and his nerves over his song choices kept him from dwelling on Adam, at least for an hour or two as he went over his arrangement a couple times, then was ushered into the recording room. He was nervous as hell, but at least singing was a relief. The song itself had already been recorded, so he didn't have to worry about remembering chords or what he was doing with his hand. He just had to sing. And that was always so easy, so relaxing. At least until the producer's voice came over the intercom, telling him to go back and do a part over again because he'd sounded flat. That was the only problem with recording and competing, he thought. He couldn't just go through the song and enjoy it. He had to make it perfect, make everything perfect.
It took a good forty-five minutes before they were finally satisfied with the parts they had gotten, and would end up piecing together the best of it. He headed out to the room where the others were waiting, trading places with Danny and falling onto the newly emptied couch with a groan.
Adam was seated in a chair beside the couch, snakeskin covered feet propped up on the table, crossed at the ankles. Kris thought the other contestant could look comfortable if he'd been hung upside down by those ankles. It was an enviable talent.
"Did they wear you out?"
Adam's voice was a playful croon, and since he was too tired to worry about guilt or desire or fantasies, he just nodded, letting out a defeated sound as Adam got up from his seat, coming over to sit on the arm of the couch, brushing hair out of his face. It was a gentle, soothing touch that reminded him of something his mother might have done while he was a child and sick. Though comparing his mother and Adam was a very awkward experience.
"I'm totally going to tank on Tuesday." He mumbled, mentally already packing his bags. There was no way he was going to be able to pull it off. But at least he'd get to have some fun before he went home.
Adam gave a rather ungraceful snort, and Kris was suddenly jostled, lifted up by his shoulders so that Adam could sit underneath where his head had been. When he found his head deposited in the man's lap, he looked up at him with a weak glare, then just huff.
"You and me both, babe." Kris really wasn't used to being called things like baby and babe from another guy, or by anyone, really, and he wasn't sure how to feel about it. Well, he knew how he SHOULD feel, but he wasn't all that sure how he did feel.
"The way they dissected me in there, you'd think I was the worst thing to ever step into that studio." He mumbled, nearly whimpering as those magical fingers once again found their way into his hair, rubbing soothingly. Why did they have to feel so good, anyway? It wasn't fair.
But he wasn't in any condition to complain, so he just groaned, melting as they rubbed away the headache that had come back with a vengeance.
"You know you're going to be brilliant." he complained, eyes closed and voice weary. He couldn't even imagine Adam being anything less than amazing. "You're always brilliant."
The hands in his hair paused, then started up again, and he gave a little sigh, glad the massage hadn't stopped.
"I'm glad one of us thinks so." the older male murmured, and Kris had to wonder if Adam actually doubted his own abilities. It seemed ridiculous to him, one of the many who were constantly in his shadow.
"What are you doing, anyway?" He had gotten....distracted the night before, and hadn't been able to ask him what he had lined up.
"Mm, I've got something good picked as my choice, but Simon picked out U2 for me...Unfortunately, I'm not all that familiar with it. It's not really my thing, you know?" He murmured, sounding regretful. Like it was a crime that he wasn't well versed in every song in the universe. Kris was beginning to think that, as high as the standards that the judges were holding Adam to were, his own standards were even higher.
He couldn't imagine the pressure.
"Lemme hear what you got. Maybe I can help you out." He urged, cracking his eyes open. it wasn't the first time they had helped each other with their songs. He hoped it wouldn't be the last, too. But the odds were high.
Adam actually looked surprised for a moment, his fingers pausing, then starting up yet again.
"Yeah...okay..."
It was quiet for a moment, and Kris wondered what was going through the older male's mind when he finally started to sing, quietly.
Adam's voice was low and haunting. And quiet, just for him, rather than a theater full of people, it was profoundly intimate. The ring on his finger wasn't just too tight now, it was starting to burn.
"Is it getting better?
Or do you feel the same?
Will it make it easier on you, now?
you got someone to blame.
You say, one love
One life
When it's one need
in the night
One love, you get to share it
It'll leave you, baby,
if you don't care for it."
Kris wanted to close his eyes again, but couldn't seem to make himself. Staring up at Adam's face, the usually impish male staring off at some unknown point, that haunting tone coming from his voice. It was like he was hypnotized. It actually sounded painful, to hear it. It was beautiful, but it ripped at him. He supposed that was why Adam was so brilliant.
And maybe why he seemed irresistible.
"Did I disappoint you?
Or leave a bad taste in your mouth
You act like you never had love
you want me to go without
Well it's too late
tonight
to drag the past out into the light
We're one
but we're not the same
we gotta carry each other
carry each other
One...."
He wanted Adam to stop. He really wanted him to stop. He hadn't imagined that just hearing him sing, so close, and so quiet, without all that stage presence he was known for would make him feel so vulnerable. Especially with those gentle fingers sliding through his hair, teasing his scalp.
It wasn't fair that Adam could do this to him. He was married. He had a family. It was what he had been building up to his entire life. It was cruel that Adam could make him regret all that, and maybe even wish for something else.
It wasn't fair that he could sing a simple song, and turn him inside out. That he could look up at that face, and see it wasn't just his voice that was haunting. There were ghosts in those eyes he didn't know, pain and disgrace and bitterness, that made the unreal young man seem painfully real there in that moment. Tangible. Touchable. Vulnerable.
A vulnerable Adam Lambert was probably the most wrenching things he would ever see.
"Have you come here for forgiveness
Did you come to raise the dead
Have you come here to play Jesus
to the lepers in your head
Did I ask too much
more than a lot
You gave me nothing
now that's all I got.
We're one
But we're not the same
We hurt each other
then we do it again
Love is--"
He couldn't take it. He just couldn't. And even with the ring on his finger, threatening to burn him to the bone, he reached up, curling his fingers around the collar of Adam's shirt, around the necklaces, and pulled him down, cutting off those haunting words with his mouth.
Eyes open, he could see the vulnerability, the shock, the warmth, then long, curved lashes fell and the windows into Adam's soul were closed and all he had was the feeling of soft, warm lips on his own, and a gut churning fear in his stomach that told him nothing was ever going to go back to normal.
The angle was awkward, and he had to prop himself up on one arm to meet the man's mouth, but he melted into it with disgustingly little hesitation. It was like the kiss from the night before had never stopped, and every nerve in his body felt alive and electric.
Why was it that an older man he'd known for only a couple months could make him feel things that even his wife, the woman he'd loved for years, couldn't? Why was it that everything just fell away when Adam's arms came around his waist, hauling him up, and holding him against him as he slowly plundered his mouth.
There was skill in that tongue. A wicked part of his mind wondered just how much practice it had had, and if he was just another name added to a long list. But he brutally squashed that thought. Adam wasn't like that. There couldn't be that kind of indifference in the man he'd seen looking so exposed.
A hand slipped up under his shirt, and the contact of one of Adam's large, warm hands on his bare back felt like a live wire. There was contrast, the warmth of his skin, and the cold metal of his rings that made him shiver, and startled him enough to finally pull away, flushed and panting.
What was he doing? He was supposed to be sensible, reasonable. Pretending none of what had happened last night had actually happened. He wasn't supposed to be kissing the man in a waiting room of a recording studio where anyone could come in at any moment.
Terrified of his own actions, he quickly scrambled upright, and out of Adam's lap, all but squishing himself over to the other side of the couch. He couldn't seem to get his breath, and his heart was thudding painfully in his chest.
"Y-you don't need to worry...." he finally managed. "You're definitely going to be in the finals."
Adam opened his eyes again, and he saw that strange, disconcerting vulnerability before it was replaced with bright gleam.
"Then you'd better make sure you are too."
His stomach jumped, and he had no idea what to say to that, so he nodded dumbly, just sitting there, blankly for a moment, struggling to catch his breath. At least he wasn't doubting his song choice anymore. He'd take any risk to have one more week together with Adam.
When Danny came back out, exhausted from his own recording session, desperate to just curl up on one of the couches and nap, he saw Adam and Kris on the couch he'd left behind, Kris' hand being held in place on Adam's lap. Tension settled in his chest and he stared at the pair awkwardly.
Then he noticed that Adam appeared to be repainting Kris' thumbnail and he forced himself to relax. There was nothing going on there.
It was just his imagination.
Title: Home is....where? (3/?)
Author: Ellelee
Pairing: Adam/Kris
Rating: PG-13 (higher in later chapters)
Summary: A day back home causes Kris some confusion, and returning to the mansion doesn't make it any better.
"Goodnight, Kris."
He had to clench his eyes shut tight, but it did nothing to hold back the surge of images that assaulted him, just hearing that quiet voice, that damn whispery sound, alone in the quiet room.
".....Goodnight, Adam."
~~~~~~
The next morning there didn't even seem to be time to wonder what was going on between them. When Kris woke up Adam was already in the bathroom, going to war with his cosmetics and hair products. He had been unfortunate enough to get caught up in that battle one morning, and had since learned to stay well out of the way until Adam was done.
Slipping his wedding ring back onto his finger, he stared down down at it for a moment, unsettled, until Danny's voice came through the door, warning them they were going to be late if they didn't hurry down.
Breakfast was it's usual rush, and though he tried to avoid looking at Adam too much, whenever he did, the older contestant just gave him that usual impish grin, like absolutely nothing different had happened the night before. It left his head spinning, and he was eternally grateful to their grueling schedule that had them eating even as they piled into the limo to head to the photo shoot.
He would have been content to pretend like everything was normal if Adam's hand hadn't landed on his thigh, and stayed there the entire fifteen minute ride. He could barely swallow the bagel he'd been eating around the lump in his throat.
He normally hated the photo shoots, but this one turned out to be particularly brutal, unable to concentrate on any sort of pose or expression when his mind was all churned up.
He'd kissed Adam.
Well, technically Adam had kissed him. But he hadn't fought the man off. Hell, he'd pretty much given him permission. It made him feel sick to his stomach, even as the memories of it excited him.
He barely had the awareness to grimace as the photographer reamed him out for being so useless, and he glanced over at Adam. Of course HE wasn't having any troubles. He looked like he'd been born in front of the camera, and the bright smiles and sultry looks came so easily to him.
Then again, maybe it was all easy to Adam. After all, he was well aware of his own sexuality and comfortable in it. And HE wasn't married, the jackass.
By the time he had managed to get some print-worthy shots, his head was throbbing with what could only be a skull-splitting migraine, and he whimpered as they were loaded back into the limo to head to rehearsals. Danny was already off in his own world, probably trying to figure out what arrangements he was going to use. Kris was still second-guessing his own song choice, part of him screaming not to take that risk. But those screams were like whispers under his preoccupation with Adam at his side.
And Adam, damn him, never seemed to miss a thing.
"Got a headache, baby?" The whisper in his ear made him shiver, and he clenched his eyes shut, trying his best to fight off the reaction. That was the last thing he needed right now. Cracking one eye open, he gave Adam a weak glare, as if to ask whose fault that was.
The older man just grinned at him, with that damn, irrepressible smile. Then he proved simply how shameless he was.
"Here, put your head in my lap. I'll help you with it."
Kris' eyes went painfully wide, and his eyes darted to Danny who seemed to not have noticed a thing, or was simply ignoring them. Was Adam really that blatant? The L-shaped back seat of the limo offered him plenty of room to lay out, but Adam's lap was an area he kinda wanted to avoid.
Still, that smile, and the pain of his headache were a powerful combination, and after a wary moment, he shifted, laying down on the seat, but made sure his head was simply on Adam's thigh, and not anywhere else, thank you very much.
It was clear that hadn't gone unnoticed, because Adam's chuckle washed over him like a caress and he cursed himself the worst kind of fool.
But then Adam's fingers were in his hair, rubbing at his temples, and he found himself melting into a puddle of goo. Not only did his headache seem to vanish, but every muscles in his body, which had been pretty damn tense, relaxed, and he let out a little sigh, that sounded something like a groan. His eyes were closed, so he didn't notice the odd glance Danny gave them, or the way the widower's eyes widened and he quickly looked away again.
Adam had incredible fingers, he decided, realizing even as he thought it that it was a dangerous revelation. If he could have that kind of effect just touching his head, after all, what could those hands do touching the rest of his body.
Inevitably the ideas came to mind, of those large, careful hands on his skin. He hadn't felt that yet, which seemed impossible, given how affectionately Adam touched everyone. But he couldn't seem to remember the man ever touching bare skin that wasn't on his hands. Odd. And it only served to tease him as he traitorously imagined how those hands would feel on his chest, his sides, his legs....It was a horrible thing to think about, and his wedding ring on his finger felt almost painfully tight, punishing him.
Biting his lip, he tried to banish the images, and just focus on the way those fingers were combing, gently, through his hair now, keeping the headache at bay. Somehow he managed to keep the guilt and the fantasy away enough that the soothing touches lulled him into sleep until the limo pulled up in front of the studio.
They had a brief rehearsal session, then they had to record their tracks for the week. the memory of it, and his nerves over his song choices kept him from dwelling on Adam, at least for an hour or two as he went over his arrangement a couple times, then was ushered into the recording room. He was nervous as hell, but at least singing was a relief. The song itself had already been recorded, so he didn't have to worry about remembering chords or what he was doing with his hand. He just had to sing. And that was always so easy, so relaxing. At least until the producer's voice came over the intercom, telling him to go back and do a part over again because he'd sounded flat. That was the only problem with recording and competing, he thought. He couldn't just go through the song and enjoy it. He had to make it perfect, make everything perfect.
It took a good forty-five minutes before they were finally satisfied with the parts they had gotten, and would end up piecing together the best of it. He headed out to the room where the others were waiting, trading places with Danny and falling onto the newly emptied couch with a groan.
Adam was seated in a chair beside the couch, snakeskin covered feet propped up on the table, crossed at the ankles. Kris thought the other contestant could look comfortable if he'd been hung upside down by those ankles. It was an enviable talent.
"Did they wear you out?"
Adam's voice was a playful croon, and since he was too tired to worry about guilt or desire or fantasies, he just nodded, letting out a defeated sound as Adam got up from his seat, coming over to sit on the arm of the couch, brushing hair out of his face. It was a gentle, soothing touch that reminded him of something his mother might have done while he was a child and sick. Though comparing his mother and Adam was a very awkward experience.
"I'm totally going to tank on Tuesday." He mumbled, mentally already packing his bags. There was no way he was going to be able to pull it off. But at least he'd get to have some fun before he went home.
Adam gave a rather ungraceful snort, and Kris was suddenly jostled, lifted up by his shoulders so that Adam could sit underneath where his head had been. When he found his head deposited in the man's lap, he looked up at him with a weak glare, then just huff.
"You and me both, babe." Kris really wasn't used to being called things like baby and babe from another guy, or by anyone, really, and he wasn't sure how to feel about it. Well, he knew how he SHOULD feel, but he wasn't all that sure how he did feel.
"The way they dissected me in there, you'd think I was the worst thing to ever step into that studio." He mumbled, nearly whimpering as those magical fingers once again found their way into his hair, rubbing soothingly. Why did they have to feel so good, anyway? It wasn't fair.
But he wasn't in any condition to complain, so he just groaned, melting as they rubbed away the headache that had come back with a vengeance.
"You know you're going to be brilliant." he complained, eyes closed and voice weary. He couldn't even imagine Adam being anything less than amazing. "You're always brilliant."
The hands in his hair paused, then started up again, and he gave a little sigh, glad the massage hadn't stopped.
"I'm glad one of us thinks so." the older male murmured, and Kris had to wonder if Adam actually doubted his own abilities. It seemed ridiculous to him, one of the many who were constantly in his shadow.
"What are you doing, anyway?" He had gotten....distracted the night before, and hadn't been able to ask him what he had lined up.
"Mm, I've got something good picked as my choice, but Simon picked out U2 for me...Unfortunately, I'm not all that familiar with it. It's not really my thing, you know?" He murmured, sounding regretful. Like it was a crime that he wasn't well versed in every song in the universe. Kris was beginning to think that, as high as the standards that the judges were holding Adam to were, his own standards were even higher.
He couldn't imagine the pressure.
"Lemme hear what you got. Maybe I can help you out." He urged, cracking his eyes open. it wasn't the first time they had helped each other with their songs. He hoped it wouldn't be the last, too. But the odds were high.
Adam actually looked surprised for a moment, his fingers pausing, then starting up yet again.
"Yeah...okay..."
It was quiet for a moment, and Kris wondered what was going through the older male's mind when he finally started to sing, quietly.
Adam's voice was low and haunting. And quiet, just for him, rather than a theater full of people, it was profoundly intimate. The ring on his finger wasn't just too tight now, it was starting to burn.
"Is it getting better?
Or do you feel the same?
Will it make it easier on you, now?
you got someone to blame.
You say, one love
One life
When it's one need
in the night
One love, you get to share it
It'll leave you, baby,
if you don't care for it."
Kris wanted to close his eyes again, but couldn't seem to make himself. Staring up at Adam's face, the usually impish male staring off at some unknown point, that haunting tone coming from his voice. It was like he was hypnotized. It actually sounded painful, to hear it. It was beautiful, but it ripped at him. He supposed that was why Adam was so brilliant.
And maybe why he seemed irresistible.
"Did I disappoint you?
Or leave a bad taste in your mouth
You act like you never had love
you want me to go without
Well it's too late
tonight
to drag the past out into the light
We're one
but we're not the same
we gotta carry each other
carry each other
One...."
He wanted Adam to stop. He really wanted him to stop. He hadn't imagined that just hearing him sing, so close, and so quiet, without all that stage presence he was known for would make him feel so vulnerable. Especially with those gentle fingers sliding through his hair, teasing his scalp.
It wasn't fair that Adam could do this to him. He was married. He had a family. It was what he had been building up to his entire life. It was cruel that Adam could make him regret all that, and maybe even wish for something else.
It wasn't fair that he could sing a simple song, and turn him inside out. That he could look up at that face, and see it wasn't just his voice that was haunting. There were ghosts in those eyes he didn't know, pain and disgrace and bitterness, that made the unreal young man seem painfully real there in that moment. Tangible. Touchable. Vulnerable.
A vulnerable Adam Lambert was probably the most wrenching things he would ever see.
"Have you come here for forgiveness
Did you come to raise the dead
Have you come here to play Jesus
to the lepers in your head
Did I ask too much
more than a lot
You gave me nothing
now that's all I got.
We're one
But we're not the same
We hurt each other
then we do it again
Love is--"
He couldn't take it. He just couldn't. And even with the ring on his finger, threatening to burn him to the bone, he reached up, curling his fingers around the collar of Adam's shirt, around the necklaces, and pulled him down, cutting off those haunting words with his mouth.
Eyes open, he could see the vulnerability, the shock, the warmth, then long, curved lashes fell and the windows into Adam's soul were closed and all he had was the feeling of soft, warm lips on his own, and a gut churning fear in his stomach that told him nothing was ever going to go back to normal.
The angle was awkward, and he had to prop himself up on one arm to meet the man's mouth, but he melted into it with disgustingly little hesitation. It was like the kiss from the night before had never stopped, and every nerve in his body felt alive and electric.
Why was it that an older man he'd known for only a couple months could make him feel things that even his wife, the woman he'd loved for years, couldn't? Why was it that everything just fell away when Adam's arms came around his waist, hauling him up, and holding him against him as he slowly plundered his mouth.
There was skill in that tongue. A wicked part of his mind wondered just how much practice it had had, and if he was just another name added to a long list. But he brutally squashed that thought. Adam wasn't like that. There couldn't be that kind of indifference in the man he'd seen looking so exposed.
A hand slipped up under his shirt, and the contact of one of Adam's large, warm hands on his bare back felt like a live wire. There was contrast, the warmth of his skin, and the cold metal of his rings that made him shiver, and startled him enough to finally pull away, flushed and panting.
What was he doing? He was supposed to be sensible, reasonable. Pretending none of what had happened last night had actually happened. He wasn't supposed to be kissing the man in a waiting room of a recording studio where anyone could come in at any moment.
Terrified of his own actions, he quickly scrambled upright, and out of Adam's lap, all but squishing himself over to the other side of the couch. He couldn't seem to get his breath, and his heart was thudding painfully in his chest.
"Y-you don't need to worry...." he finally managed. "You're definitely going to be in the finals."
Adam opened his eyes again, and he saw that strange, disconcerting vulnerability before it was replaced with bright gleam.
"Then you'd better make sure you are too."
His stomach jumped, and he had no idea what to say to that, so he nodded dumbly, just sitting there, blankly for a moment, struggling to catch his breath. At least he wasn't doubting his song choice anymore. He'd take any risk to have one more week together with Adam.
When Danny came back out, exhausted from his own recording session, desperate to just curl up on one of the couches and nap, he saw Adam and Kris on the couch he'd left behind, Kris' hand being held in place on Adam's lap. Tension settled in his chest and he stared at the pair awkwardly.
Then he noticed that Adam appeared to be repainting Kris' thumbnail and he forced himself to relax. There was nothing going on there.
It was just his imagination.