(no subject)
Title: The Sandbox Chronicles (17/?)
Chapter Title: We're Goin' Down, Down
Author: me
Rating: r (this one gets a bit rough and angsty, don't know where the hell it came from)
Summary: It all started in a sandbox.
Disclaimer: i own none of this.
Author's Notes: i've had such bad writer's block. it's killing me! i really dont like this one...at all.but this one is a bit longer i do believe. kris' side on things. something happens :). i've figured out how i'm going to end this fic (not that it's ending right now) and omg it's so schmoopy and cliche and romantic and just....gah but i don't want to change it cuz once i'm stuck on an idea i'm stuck on it and i'm not leaving it. usually my ideas are pretty okay when it comes to ending a fic or a one-shot or whatever. and i've set myself a maximum of 25 parts for this fic. it will probably end in about 21 :( but never fear. i'm working on this HUGE long au that won't be separated into parts and it'll have....stuff happening :) enjoy, i hope! :D feedback/comments is greatly appreciated. (maybe LJ cut won't hate me this time!)
Part 1: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/390471.html#cutid1
Part 2: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/393316.html#cutid1
Part 3: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/398624.html#cutid1
Part 4: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/405456.html#cutid2
Part 5: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/414654.html#cutid1
Part 6: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/423438.html#cutid1
Part 7: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/432194.html#cutid1
Part 8: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/458045.html#cutid1
Part 9: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/467226.html#cutid1
Part 10: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/474838.html#cutid1
Part 11: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/489055.html#cutid1
Part 12: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/495336.html#cutid1
Part 13: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/500830.html#cutid1
Part 14: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/508408.html#cutid1
Part 15: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/520579.html#cutid1
Part 16: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/551245.html#cutid1
Kris glares at the broken cell phone down by the pool.
Another argument over something stupid. So he chucked the phone from the balcony and just watched it drop. It hit the cement around the pool hard, cracked into at least five different pieces, and he didn’t feel bad at all. He’s so tired of arguing over this, over that, over nothing at all. It’s driving him crazy and he doesn’t want to deal with it anymore.
It’s top four week. The stressful moments are starting to pile up. Every time someone else goes home and he’s saved, that’s just one more moment to be thankful for, but sometimes he feels sad that he gets to stay and they have to go. Adam tries to calm him down but Kris shrugs it off and say’s that he’s just fine.
Kris sighs and goes back into the room where Adam is sorting through a pile of clothes. Something about needing to get rid of some stuff. Kris couldn’t imagine Adam wanting to get rid of clothes; he always buys more clothes than are necessary and never once has he said anything about taking some out.
“You’re still going through those clothes?” Kris laughs as he bounces on the edge of the bed. Adam looks over his shoulder smiling. Kris lightly punches him in the shoulder and scoots closer so he can watch.
“I have too many tanks. How do I end up with so many of these damn things?”
Kris shrugs and Adam rolls his eyes. “What? I don’t know that much about fashion in case you’ve ever noticed.” He grins at Adam’s ‘duh’ expression.
But then Adam looks away. Kris hasn’t said anything to Adam, but he’s noticed the tension that is starting to settle between them. He can’t remember when he first noticed, maybe around top ten week, but it had come to him slowly. It always sends him into a panic on the inside whenever he thinks of Adam pulling away again. This time around it must work. Kris doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses Adam for a second time.
Probably go crazy, Kris snorts.
Adam raises an eyebrow. “You okay over there, Krissy?” he jokes and bumps his shoulder against Kris’.
“Sorry. Just thinking,” he says and forces a smile on his face. Adam doesn’t look convinced.
Sighing, Kris falls until he’s flat on his back, tips of his toes barely touching the carpet. He can feel Adam get stiff next to him and when he looks Kris can see the way Adam’s back has tightened up underneath that ridiculously snug v-neck. He’s too tense. Kris frowns and nudges Adam with his knee. Adam doesn’t even so much as glance at Kris. He sits back up, forgetting about relaxing until they have to go somewhere, and gently puts a hand on Adam’s shoulder.
Adam is off the bed and across the room in two seconds. Kris stares wide-eyed, trying to mask the brief ounce of hurt the gesture caused.
“Adam, what’s wrong?” he asks. He’s kind of afraid of what the answer will be.
“Nothing. Sorry, I just-” Adam sighs, a hand carding through his hair and then dropping heavily back down to his side. “Never mind.”
Then he rushes out of the room, an expression of defeat on his face, and it makes Kris want to cry. He wants to cry because he doesn’t know what is up with Adam and it’s scaring him. Adam has been acting too tense, too stressed, too everything, and Kris doesn’t like it. That road to “recovery” has been going so well, despite the added tension of Adam acting weird, and Kris doesn’t want to lose that.
Instead of following he stays sitting on the edge of the bed. He feels like such a movie cliché right now. Usually he’s the nice guy that tries to help someone with whatever is going on. But right now he doesn’t feel like figuring out what’s wrong. He’d rather sit here and sulk. If Adam doesn’t want to talk then Kris doesn’t want to know.
Except he kind of really does.
***
It’s late and rehearsal went all kinds of wrong.
Kris scowls at his guitar. Broke two strings and nearly popped his eye out in the middle of his song. Then the microphone decided it didn’t want to work. It wasn’t just his practice performance that went wrong. Everyone had something go awry or completely fall apart. Even Adam’s song was screwed ten ways to hell and back.
Groaning, Kris kicks his shoes off and starts unbuttoning his shirt. It’s rounding on midnight. After that awful practice the top four went out to eat at some new restaurant and they ended up staying forever because Danny just had to have desert. Kris chuckles to himself remembering that Allison was ready to stab Danny with her fork; maybe shove his own pie into his face.
“What’s so funny?”
Kris looks up at Adam who’s already stripping as he makes his way to the drawers. Kris has to look away. Sure he’s gotten used to Adam’s tendencies to not care if others see him half-naked but it’s still always an eye popping moment when Adam just yanks off his shirt or starts undoing his pants without giving Kris any kind of warning. It’s kind of frustrating, really.
“Allison looking like she was going to kill Gokey,” Kris answers laughing.
Adam grins and his belt hit’s the floor loudly. Kris swallows a bit too hard and ends up with a scratchy throat. He swallows again, ending in a coughing fit. Adam’s grin falls and he comes over. “You okay man?” he asks, hand on Kris’ shoulder. Kris ignores the warmth seeping
through the fabric of his white undershirt.
“I’m good.” Kris shrugs away casually, pretending to reach for his button up hanging off the bed.
Adam doesn’t say anything. Another one of those nights. Something awkward happens and Adam draws in on himself thinking Kris doesn’t notice. Of course Kris notices. He knows almost everything about Adam. They grew up together until Kris moved to Conway. Even through all the tough, awkward, Adam-being-older-than-Kris moments, they were still close enough to know when something was up. And something is up with Adam as of late.
Kris can’t figure it out. He’s not entirely sure he wants to figure it out, afraid it might be bad or even good. He can handle good but he can’t handle bad. Then before he can stop himself, he’s stepping in front of Adam and stopping him from moving with a hand to his chest. Adam’s eyes flash for a brief second. Kris doesn’t even try to read into it. “Adam, what the hell is wrong with you?” he asks suddenly and digs his fingers into Adam’s shirt.
Adam flinches visibly and takes a step back but Kris follows closely, keeping his hand buried in Adam’s shirt. He’s normally not one for getting things out of another person by using any kind of violence, whether it be physical or verbal. If it takes talking it out of Adam then he’ll do it.
But then Adam is turning the tables on Kris. Eyes wide as saucers, Kris finds himself being twisted around, back to the wall only a few feet away, and Adam is backing him up to it. “Tell me, Kris,” he starts and Kris swallows fast, “do you really want to know what’s up with me?”
Kris doesn’t answer. “Do you?” Adam punctuates the question with a fast shove to the wall and Kris is pressed against the surface. Breathing has become difficult with Adam suddenly leaning against him.
Kris stutters out an answer, “Yeah, I-I do.” When did he start fumbling around Adam of all people? Adam presses harder. Kris lets go of his shirt, hands planting firmly against the wall behind him.
“This is what’s wrong with me,” Adam hisses and pushes up and against Kris’ hip. Kris closes his eyes at feel of Adam, hard and hot through his jeans, obviously wanting more than a friendship. “I thought maybe I’d get over this. Over the weeks, though, you’ve been too good to me to get on my good side again. We’ve become friends again and I like that. But I’m beginning to feel more than friendship. You know what I mean, Kris? Do you?”
Kris gasps loudly when Adam slides a leg between his thighs, settling just below his crotch and waiting. “Adam,” Kris says on a fast exhale, “don’t do something you’ll regret.”
Adam deflates right before Kris’ eyes. His blue-greys cloud over and the desire and want that had been there vanish, replaced with a longing and sadness so great that Kris feels his gut twist and clench. “I’m sorry,” Adam whispers and lets go of Kris’ shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles it caused without looking Kris in the eye. Then, hands clenched into fists at his side, he steps back.
“Adam, what’s the deal?” Kris asks and tentatively takes a step closer. Adam takes two steps back and Kris takes another step forward. It’s not until Adam’s falling to his ass on the bed that Kris can get him cornered. “Talk to me.” He sits next to him on the bed, trying not to crowd Adam because he shouldn’t feel the need to run off again.
“I told you,” Adam mutters, avoiding Kris’ gaze.
“Please, just talk to me! Maybe I can help?” Kris offers and scoots closer, hand coming to rest on Adam’s forearm lightly. Adam doesn’t flinch this time.
“Kris, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” Adam gently picks up Kris’ hand, much to Kris’ disappointment, and stands.
And when Adam walks out of the room Kris can’t help it if he already misses the closeness and the way Adam had looked at him earlier, pressed against the wall, face close enough to see through the foundation and to the freckles.
Maybe what Adam is feeling is what Kris is feeling. But Kris isn’t sure what he’s feeling. He has Katy, for God’s sake, he shouldn’t be feeling anything for Adam. Adam is his best friend and it took Kris through hell and back to get Adam to come around after a seven year gap. He’s not letting go of that. Even if it means pushing these feelings away and not returning to them.
He can do that.
He can try.
Or maybe he can’t.
***
Another Wednesday night. Kris is happy to be safe but Allison is gone and that should have never happened because Allison is ten times better than Danny. Kris doesn’t rule the votes, though, so he can only let it be and wipe her tears away like the big brother she sees him as.
The moment the door closes behind Danny Adam stomps off upstairs, Allison holding tightly to his hand and following. Kris shakes his head in Danny’s direction: tonight had been horrible and Danny had sat there with that stupid, smug grin on his face like he knew that he was safe, like he just thought he was so much better than Allison. Kris ignores Danny’s expression of guilt and heads up the stairs after the duo.
He hears Adam’s soft spoken voice coming from Allison’s bedroom. Kris goes to the sound and does not even bother to knock on the door. Allison is sitting on her bed half-heartedly picking through a pile of shirts and jeans already spread out on the bed and the floor. Adam is sitting there with her, arm around her shoulders, comforting her through her tears. Her mother is rummaging in the closet, muttering in Spanish about the voting system on American Idol.
Kris crouches in front of Allison and she smiles. “You did good, Allie. And you get to go on tour,” he says softly. He can faintly see Adam out of the corner of his eye sucking on his lower lip, his sure fire way of holding back tears. “Come on, Allie. Don’t cry.” She wraps her arms around him and hugs him as tight as she can.
Kris smiles and if he sniffles into her shoulder and a few tears slip out then so be it. Who cares if he cries over one of his closest friends leaving. Then all three of them are on the floor hugging and laughing at how silly they’re being. Kris pulls back first, catching Adam’s eye over Allison’s shoulder. Adam looks…more drawn than before. Kris decides he’ll think about it later.
From there they help Allison and her mother pack. They tell jokes and they laugh and they cry a little bit more, but it makes her leaving a couple of hours later somewhat better.
Finally the car is out of sight. Kris has to literally pull on Adam’s elbow to get him to move where he’s rooted to the concrete. “Adam, come on,” Kris whines and tugs harder. Adam stumbles and walks backwards to the big front doors. Kris feels sorry for him. Allison was like Adam’s sister that he never had and now that she’s gone a piece of Adam seems to be gone, too.
Back in the room, after much struggling to get Adam inside, Kris falls onto his bed in a heap. Adam sighs across the room as he finds a pair of pajamas to change into. Kris wants to not watch, but he finds himself doing so anyways. He’s already changing out of his shirt and he looks over at that moment. The blush immediately starts making it’s way up Kris’ neck. He drops his gaze, goes back to staring at the ceiling.
It only takes Adam a half hour to disappear into the bathroom then come back out, make-up gone and pajamas on. Kris gets up to go take his turn, yet he goes straight to Adam’s side where he’s standing at the chest-of-drawers rifling through clothes. Kris carefully touches a finger to Adam’s neck and trails it down to the open collar at his chest. Kris doesn’t understand what the hell he’s doing all of sudden except that he likes it and he wants to know where these feelings keep coming from, and then Adam is turning and cupping Kris’ cheeks in his bigger hands, thumbs drawing circles high into the dips of Kris’ cheekbones.
“Kris, what’re you doing?” Adam whispers and Kris can feel the hot breath all the way to his fingertips.
“I don’t know,” Kris answers before grasping Adam’s wrists, holding on, and surging forward, their lips connecting awkwardly. There aren’t fireworks or sparks, and there isn’t some white-hot feeling shooting to his toes. But there is a feeling.
Kris likes it. Even though Adam isn’t doing anything but standing there with his hands still on Kris’ cheeks, not kissing back, Kris likes it. It’s different than kissing Katy, and Kris is surprised to learn that a pang of guilt doesn’t come with the thought of Katy. His focus is entirely on the way Adam’s pulse is pounding underneath Kris’ thumbs where they are pressed to Adam’s wrist, and the way Adam’s lips are soft from the constant use of chapstick, and the way Adam is breathing harder, faster.
All too soon Adam is breaking away, hands never straying though, and Kris keeps his hands wrapped around Adam’s wrists. “Is this what’s wrong with you?” Kris asks quietly, eyes searching Adam’s face for any kind of reciprocation.
Suddenly Adam’s eyes are filling with tears and he’s pushing Kris away. Kris tenses and waits for the inevitable blow to come. He just screwed up their friendship…again. It was always him in the past and it’s him again here in the present. “Don’t play with me, Kristopher,” Adam spits out.
“What?” Kris’ jaw drops. “Adam-”
“No!” Adam backs up, hands out to keep Kris away. “You can’t just fucking do that! You can’t just suddenly decide you want to kiss me. You don’t have feelings for me and you’re not gay, Kris! So what’s the fucking deal?” Kris can tell Adam is so hurt by this and it makes his heart ache.
“Like you haven’t been doing the same thing!” Kris fires back. “I’m not entirely stupid you know. I’ve seen the way you look at me and it never really clicked until this week. The way you’ve been acting, stepping around me like you’re afraid. I may not be as comfortable with my feelings for another guy as you may be but dammit Adam!” Kris can’t decide if he’s fueled by the confusion muddling his brain or the outright stupidity of the situation or just Adam’s stubbornness.
“Yeah but I don’t have prior commitments! I’m not married and settled with a cute blonde wife!” Adam is on a roll now, Kris can tell. If he doesn’t do anything about it soon then this could escalate out of control and end up like it ended up seven years ago.
Kris doesn’t think either one of them could survive it this time.
“Adam, don’t you dare bring her into this,” Kris fumes, hands clenching and unclenching sporadically at his sides. His shoulders are tense and his eyes set in a glare and he’s ready.
How did it go from fun and friendship, to awkwardness and anger in so many weeks?
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Adam cries. There is a hysterical edge to his voice that reminds Kris of when they fought back then. Adam had been on the verge of either a breakdown or a beat down. Either way, Kris needs to stop it.
There’s only one way he can think of. So he grabs the front of Adam’s shirt and yanks him forward. Adam tilts and stumbles but then Kris is pressing his lips, hard, against Adam’s and it’s intense and everything Kris wants and knows that Adam wants rolled into one crazy moment of irrational behavior. He cards his hands into Adam’s hair, tugging until Adam is practically bent over, and probes at Adam’s tightly sealed lips until Adam reluctantly opens up.
Kris shudders when Adam’s hands slip underneath his shirt, touching heated skin and squeezing bruising fingertips there. He’s against the drawers in a second, Adam’s hands traveling roughly over Kris’ body. Kris moans no matter how much is mind is screaming at him to stop, to think of Katy, of his parents, of his life. Yet he can’t think of those things. Adam’s lips are finally moving against his own and Kris loves it too much and wants more all at once.
“You want more?” Adam growls. Kris didn’t realize he’d said it out loud until then. His eyes drop closed as Adam shifts his smaller body up roughly against the drawers. His ankles hook behind Adam’s knees and he pulls so Adam is flush against him now. “I’ll give you more.”\
Kris uses his own anger for this ridiculous situation to shove his hands up the back of Adam’s shirt, almost ripping it in his haste to get it off. Adam barely moves an inch to accommodate but Kris thinks he probably doesn’t care about accommodating right now. Kris is too in the moment, Adam is too in the moment, and it’s all so good that Kris is afraid he won’t want to stop.
Adam is pinning Kris harder and thrusting his hips almost violently into Kris’ aching cock. Kris can feel one of the knobs on the dresser digging into his back, rucking his shirt up almost to his ribs. It hurts and it feels so good at the same time. Then his jeans are being unbuttoned and unzipped, a hand is right there fast, gripping and sliding in the limited space they’ve created. It sends a shocking jolt through his body.
This isn’t what you want, a voice whispers in the back of Kris’ mind. It has him opening his eyes wide in fear and guilt and disgust at what he’s letting happen when he has that ring on his finger like a burning weight to remind him. Somehow the voice gets through all the mess that is Kris’ mind and the sensations surging through his veins at Adam’s rough, almost frantic touches and thrusts.
“Adam, wait,” Kris pants. Adam ignores him. Frustrated, Kris shoves hard at Adam’s shoulders. Adam stumbles back, immediately turning and racing for the bathroom. But Kris catches him by the elbow and ends up stumbling along behind Adam.
“Get the fuck off or get out. Find another room,” Adam won’t look at him, not even a sideways glance.
Kris hates the overwhelming intensity of the problem at hand. He hates that he let it get so far and so out of control. He hates that Adam is acting this way. It’s Kris’ own fault, though. He hates that he pushed for Adam to talk, to say anything at all about what was going on. He hates the way the space in his jeans isn’t getting any smaller, the way his heart is racing double-time in his chest, the way his eyes are watering at the thought that it’s happening again. So this is what bad karma is.
Kris has two choices, he thinks. He can either do as Adam says and get another room, run away from the problem. Or he can face it and make Adam listen, make him talk. “No,” Kris says determinedly and lets go of Adam’s elbow. Adam glares: if looks could kill…
“I’m staying.”
Adam scoffs, changes direction, and speeds out the door.
It’s then that Kris kind of breaks, kind of cries a little, kind of misses Adam a little too much already. His body betrayed him while his mind was screaming at him to stop and talk. It got too out of control. Too out of hand.
He has Katy to think about, now. He has his parents and his friends and his possible music career. This could change everything unless he fixes the problem. Just when they were getting back into each other’s good graces, getting back on that right track and being best friends again, Kris had to mess it up like he did seven years ago.
Kris crawls into the bed, Adam’s bed, and hugs a pillow to his body that smells like Dior Homme and those weird French brands of shampoo Adam uses. He sniffles, tells himself he won’t cry anymore, but does anyway because he can’t help it. He’s never been much of a crier and even when he does it isn’t a lot. This situation calls for a good cry.
And if his heart breaks a little for the mess he’s gotten himself into then he doesn’t care.