Fic: Collapsible Plans [1/?]
Title: Collapsible Plans [1/?]
Summary: AU. Kris leaves small town life behind to attend college in New York City. Who does he meet along the way that flips his world upside down?
Author: griggharris
Beta: gargoyles42
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Rating: Chapter is G. Fic is PG-13.
Word Count: 1,376
Disclaimer: The happenings are faker than Zaza in La Cage aux Folles.
Author’s Notes: I gave in quickly! Here is chapter one. Thank you to gargoyles42 for being a great beta. Thank you for all your feedback so far.
Prologue
= = =
Kris felt every bit the awkward freshman as he walked into his first class of the day, his ankles trembling like narrow shoots on a windy day.
Let it be said now: He was one of the few left-brained/right-brained know-it-alls of the world that ate up information at whatever capacity (rather annoying, really). He could even solve a Rubik’s cube in five minutes flat.
Consequently, he had tested well and landed a spot in College Algebra I on his first go, but he still found it rather tedious. And frankly, no one in their right mind had any right to be lugging around an eight pound textbook at ten-past-eight in the morning, let alone putting it to any intellectual use.
He had been warned to appear in class early to land a seat, and so the minutes rolled by like molasses in January. He played ‘rubber pencil’ and looked around the room at the strangers in their performance fleece and striped jumpers, all looking so adapted that it was embarrassing.
He wondered a few times if he’d actually entered a lecture hall or the Twilight Zone. The girls behind him smacked their gum and downed their venti Starbucks cups like water, gabbing on about the artistic relevance and meritable qualities of Taylor Lautner and Robert Pattinson. He hadn’t realized the room had completely filled until he looked up from the corner of his textbook, where he’d scratched throwaway lyrics and a laughably random yet absurdly detailed bust of a unicorn.
To his immediate left was a small clique of artsy kids crowded around the same textbook - two guys the size of pipe cleaners and a short girl with fiery magenta hair. He only took note because every time they’d look over at him, they’d whisper and giggle. After a couple of minutes it grew rather repetitive, but he didn’t say anything, just leaned back in his seat and erased away the pencil markings that currently dominated linear inequalities.
It was five minutes past the hour when he checked his watch and sighed, wondering if class always started late at the more expensive schools. His mind wandered a bit and he wondered what Katy, that aforementioned blonde belle of his, was doing at right that very moment. Hopefully sleeping, like any rational person in the world was doing.
The boy beside him, about the same frame and height of Kris, nudged him. Kris glanced over to him and raised his brow. The boy had brilliant, dark brown eyes, delicate features, and what looked like a soft layer of ivory foundation. His hair was a finely coifed, metallic blue pompadour, and in spite of his maroon tank top, he wore a Steven Tyler-esque scarf around his neck and inconceivably pointless leather cuffs.
“Professor Jacobs is always fifteen minutes late, hot stuff. And he always throws in a pop quiz on the first day, so I hope you’ve boned up.” The man looked him up and down and clicked his tongue, as if in silent approval.
Kris raised his brow and gave him a nervous, disproportional smirk. “Okay.” He considered what the man confided to him and shifted in his seat, suddenly more curious than put-off. “And you know this-how?”
The man scoffed and Kris heard a giggle or two beside him. It was then that the girl in the group leaned forward. She sat between the two men and seemed as much of a character as they. Her voice was raspier and hoarser than the other man’s, as if they should swap. She didn’t look any older than Kris, and she was beautiful, but in an unconventional way.
“Because they like us so much they keep inviting us back?” She smiled wider and Kris had a perfect rebuttal, but he was quickly ignored as a tall figure walked into the room, fashionably late.
He was - simply said - one of the most striking individuals Kris had ever laid eyes on.
It was then that he learned a few names, or variations thereof.
“Adam, you skank!” the girl called, splaying out her arms in an effort to be hugged. “Why you gotta be so late, fool?!”
“Allison, my love!” Adam, apparently, called back, ascending toward them. “You know what they say, better late than pregnant.”
“Get over here, bitch, and kiss your hot boyfriend Drake,” the other boy (evidently, Drake), as tall and lanky as Adam but much blonder, called with a swoop of his arm and a loud whistle.
Kris watched as Adam sat down beside the man and kissed him right on the spot. And not just any peck on the lips, but a full-on, fingers-through-the-hair, hands-on-the-cheeks, the-whole-of-time-and-space-stops kiss.
And when he was done with Drake, he leaned over and gave Allison the same treatment, passionate snog and all.
Naturally, they had made quite a scene. A few other students in the class groaned and looked away, but Kris, in all irony, didn’t care. He smiled at the playful show of interaction and glanced down at his watch in an effort to not look like a peeping tom.
But the skinny man beside Kris didn’t seem to care for Kris’ grace. He swung his arm around Kris’ shoulder and pulled him in, looking over at Adam with a smile. That was one thing Kris noticed about each of them. Despite their unique, outer appearances, they seemed to have hearts of gold. Of course, that didn’t make Kris’ instant initiation any easier to swallow.
Kris, who couldn’t have looked any more conservative around the pack of rebels, felt the tips of his ears turn pinker as the man made a formal introduction despite having no relative clue who Kris was. It was one thing to be in a chokehold. It was another thing to feel every set of eyes in the room hovering over him.
“Adam, we found you a new play toy,” the man spoke, sliding his fingers through Kris’ hair and standing it on end. Adam looked Kris up-and-down and seemed to nod. Kris had never felt so objectified in his life, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it.
“I don’t really know-“ Kris began to say, still locked underneath the man’s arm. He glanced up at Adam and smiled nervously. Adam smiled wider, and it was then that Kris noticed the line of smoky black eyeliner around his eyes. And that coif. He looked like he had either cut his hair himself or put it through a blender - yet it suited him. Kris’ eyes also glanced over his fingernails, jet black with a midnight blue sheen.
“Shh. Say hi… what was your name?” The man goaded into Kris’ ear.
Kris noticed Adam’s giggle and roll of the eyes at the man’s question. So this was typical behavior. Somehow, that wasn’t pacifying.
He spoke up in spite of himself, a little bewildered, and he noticed then that his voice box had momentarily dislodged from his throat.
“Hi. Kris,” he managed to croak, awkwardly pushing out his hand for Adam to shake. And Adam did, his fingers locking between Kris’ in a surprising way. Was this how this Adam character shook hands?
“Adam,” the man with the black nail polish offered rather rhetorically, looking at his friend instead of Kris, “Seriously, Brad, let him go, he looks petrified.”
Brad. So that’s who had him in a chokehold.
Kris started to shrug away the man, who got the hint but couldn’t wipe away the mischievous smirk. Kris’ hand brushed over the back of his neck and rubbed away the redness, looking back at Brad. “Thanks.”
Brad simply winked and tapped Kris on the top of his head with his pencil. “Cheeks, baby, call me Cheeks.”
And then something peculiar happened. Kris’ eyes locked with Adam’s instantaneously, as if anchored by assurance. There was just something about that man. He should have been off-putting. He should have been threatening. Whatever or whoever he was, he should have been the absolute retrograde of warm and tranquil.
But he wasn’t. It stunned Kris, this instant comfort. The naïve fool, he trusted him.
“Just roll with it,” Adam said, wearing a delightful smile that made his eyes sparkle like a million jewels. “He doesn’t bite. Hard.”
And Kris believed him.
Summary: AU. Kris leaves small town life behind to attend college in New York City. Who does he meet along the way that flips his world upside down?
Author: griggharris
Beta: gargoyles42
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Rating: Chapter is G. Fic is PG-13.
Word Count: 1,376
Disclaimer: The happenings are faker than Zaza in La Cage aux Folles.
Author’s Notes: I gave in quickly! Here is chapter one. Thank you to gargoyles42 for being a great beta. Thank you for all your feedback so far.
Prologue
= = =
Kris felt every bit the awkward freshman as he walked into his first class of the day, his ankles trembling like narrow shoots on a windy day.
Let it be said now: He was one of the few left-brained/right-brained know-it-alls of the world that ate up information at whatever capacity (rather annoying, really). He could even solve a Rubik’s cube in five minutes flat.
Consequently, he had tested well and landed a spot in College Algebra I on his first go, but he still found it rather tedious. And frankly, no one in their right mind had any right to be lugging around an eight pound textbook at ten-past-eight in the morning, let alone putting it to any intellectual use.
He had been warned to appear in class early to land a seat, and so the minutes rolled by like molasses in January. He played ‘rubber pencil’ and looked around the room at the strangers in their performance fleece and striped jumpers, all looking so adapted that it was embarrassing.
He wondered a few times if he’d actually entered a lecture hall or the Twilight Zone. The girls behind him smacked their gum and downed their venti Starbucks cups like water, gabbing on about the artistic relevance and meritable qualities of Taylor Lautner and Robert Pattinson. He hadn’t realized the room had completely filled until he looked up from the corner of his textbook, where he’d scratched throwaway lyrics and a laughably random yet absurdly detailed bust of a unicorn.
To his immediate left was a small clique of artsy kids crowded around the same textbook - two guys the size of pipe cleaners and a short girl with fiery magenta hair. He only took note because every time they’d look over at him, they’d whisper and giggle. After a couple of minutes it grew rather repetitive, but he didn’t say anything, just leaned back in his seat and erased away the pencil markings that currently dominated linear inequalities.
It was five minutes past the hour when he checked his watch and sighed, wondering if class always started late at the more expensive schools. His mind wandered a bit and he wondered what Katy, that aforementioned blonde belle of his, was doing at right that very moment. Hopefully sleeping, like any rational person in the world was doing.
The boy beside him, about the same frame and height of Kris, nudged him. Kris glanced over to him and raised his brow. The boy had brilliant, dark brown eyes, delicate features, and what looked like a soft layer of ivory foundation. His hair was a finely coifed, metallic blue pompadour, and in spite of his maroon tank top, he wore a Steven Tyler-esque scarf around his neck and inconceivably pointless leather cuffs.
“Professor Jacobs is always fifteen minutes late, hot stuff. And he always throws in a pop quiz on the first day, so I hope you’ve boned up.” The man looked him up and down and clicked his tongue, as if in silent approval.
Kris raised his brow and gave him a nervous, disproportional smirk. “Okay.” He considered what the man confided to him and shifted in his seat, suddenly more curious than put-off. “And you know this-how?”
The man scoffed and Kris heard a giggle or two beside him. It was then that the girl in the group leaned forward. She sat between the two men and seemed as much of a character as they. Her voice was raspier and hoarser than the other man’s, as if they should swap. She didn’t look any older than Kris, and she was beautiful, but in an unconventional way.
“Because they like us so much they keep inviting us back?” She smiled wider and Kris had a perfect rebuttal, but he was quickly ignored as a tall figure walked into the room, fashionably late.
He was - simply said - one of the most striking individuals Kris had ever laid eyes on.
It was then that he learned a few names, or variations thereof.
“Adam, you skank!” the girl called, splaying out her arms in an effort to be hugged. “Why you gotta be so late, fool?!”
“Allison, my love!” Adam, apparently, called back, ascending toward them. “You know what they say, better late than pregnant.”
“Get over here, bitch, and kiss your hot boyfriend Drake,” the other boy (evidently, Drake), as tall and lanky as Adam but much blonder, called with a swoop of his arm and a loud whistle.
Kris watched as Adam sat down beside the man and kissed him right on the spot. And not just any peck on the lips, but a full-on, fingers-through-the-hair, hands-on-the-cheeks, the-whole-of-time-and-space-stops kiss.
And when he was done with Drake, he leaned over and gave Allison the same treatment, passionate snog and all.
Naturally, they had made quite a scene. A few other students in the class groaned and looked away, but Kris, in all irony, didn’t care. He smiled at the playful show of interaction and glanced down at his watch in an effort to not look like a peeping tom.
But the skinny man beside Kris didn’t seem to care for Kris’ grace. He swung his arm around Kris’ shoulder and pulled him in, looking over at Adam with a smile. That was one thing Kris noticed about each of them. Despite their unique, outer appearances, they seemed to have hearts of gold. Of course, that didn’t make Kris’ instant initiation any easier to swallow.
Kris, who couldn’t have looked any more conservative around the pack of rebels, felt the tips of his ears turn pinker as the man made a formal introduction despite having no relative clue who Kris was. It was one thing to be in a chokehold. It was another thing to feel every set of eyes in the room hovering over him.
“Adam, we found you a new play toy,” the man spoke, sliding his fingers through Kris’ hair and standing it on end. Adam looked Kris up-and-down and seemed to nod. Kris had never felt so objectified in his life, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it.
“I don’t really know-“ Kris began to say, still locked underneath the man’s arm. He glanced up at Adam and smiled nervously. Adam smiled wider, and it was then that Kris noticed the line of smoky black eyeliner around his eyes. And that coif. He looked like he had either cut his hair himself or put it through a blender - yet it suited him. Kris’ eyes also glanced over his fingernails, jet black with a midnight blue sheen.
“Shh. Say hi… what was your name?” The man goaded into Kris’ ear.
Kris noticed Adam’s giggle and roll of the eyes at the man’s question. So this was typical behavior. Somehow, that wasn’t pacifying.
He spoke up in spite of himself, a little bewildered, and he noticed then that his voice box had momentarily dislodged from his throat.
“Hi. Kris,” he managed to croak, awkwardly pushing out his hand for Adam to shake. And Adam did, his fingers locking between Kris’ in a surprising way. Was this how this Adam character shook hands?
“Adam,” the man with the black nail polish offered rather rhetorically, looking at his friend instead of Kris, “Seriously, Brad, let him go, he looks petrified.”
Brad. So that’s who had him in a chokehold.
Kris started to shrug away the man, who got the hint but couldn’t wipe away the mischievous smirk. Kris’ hand brushed over the back of his neck and rubbed away the redness, looking back at Brad. “Thanks.”
Brad simply winked and tapped Kris on the top of his head with his pencil. “Cheeks, baby, call me Cheeks.”
And then something peculiar happened. Kris’ eyes locked with Adam’s instantaneously, as if anchored by assurance. There was just something about that man. He should have been off-putting. He should have been threatening. Whatever or whoever he was, he should have been the absolute retrograde of warm and tranquil.
But he wasn’t. It stunned Kris, this instant comfort. The naïve fool, he trusted him.
“Just roll with it,” Adam said, wearing a delightful smile that made his eyes sparkle like a million jewels. “He doesn’t bite. Hard.”
And Kris believed him.