Idol kNight : Saturday
Title: Idol kNight : Saturday
Rating: PG
Pairing: Kradam {Friendship/More?}; mentions of Bradam pictures
Length: 1,291 words - just a little one this time :)
Author's Yada Yada Yada: joannacullen is a beta goddess.
I haven't gotten to Country Night yet, but thought I'd throw this latest finished one at you. I'll be gone for a week starting Thursday, so I'll hopefully get a lot of writing done then. :) THANK YOU to everyone who's been so, so supportive and encouraging and just plain lovely to me lately! I luh you all, I really do. <3
Oh, also? Mods? May I have an author tag, please? Thank you, in advance!
He keeps looking at me.
It's that same expression he's had for the last eight hours, and I'm kind of getting tired of it.
Not as tired as I am of, say, the ridiculous frenzy that has exploded over a couple of pictures popping up on the internet. No, nowhere near that done, because the amount of done I am with people's overreactions to some photos of a guy and his boyfriend is at a level I can't even measure right now; especially when some of those people are only a few rooms away.
Honestly, I haven't even seen the stupid things yet- not sure I even care to, seeing as how it's so very much not my business and everything- but there's no way they're as scandalous as everyone's making them out to be. And even if they are, you know what? I don't really care. How is it anyone's business? It isn't.
Oh, and don't get me started on whoever "leaked" those shots. The thought of it is like chewing glass.
I can't imagine what Adam's going through right now, how he must be feeling. I truly can't even try to empathize, but if he doesn't stop tip-toeing around and sneaking glances at me in the least sneaky way possible - no matter how stealthy he thinks he's being - I am going to have to... well, I don't know, exactly. I just know it won't be pleasant.
Adam winces again, and I finally realize I've been muttering and tossing things around a bit harshly while settling in for the night. He must think --
"Adam?"
Wow, an actual human version of a deer staring down a semi-truck. Except, that means he's scared. Not even his worries over song choice are anything like this. I've never seen him look so unsure, so self-conscious.
Not because of me. There's no way he's nervous about what I'm gonna think; he already knows I don't care about this stuff. So why's he biting his lip and shuffling like he's awaiting punishment from the school principal?
"Adam." I step closer to him and my stomach rolls with a cold sickness when he visibly flinches and fights himself from backing up. I reach out my hand, gesturing to the bed in an invite for us to sit down and talk this out, because there is absolutely no way I'm going through another minute like this. Not with Adam.
We settle on the edge of his bed, not touching.
"Kris, I-I'm sorry. I--"
"Why?"
More blinking and nervousness. Poor Adam. For him to feel this anxious around me, what must he be used to with other people?
Don't go there, Kris. You'll only get angry again, and Adam needs you calm and focused on him right now.
He isn't answering, and I can't take this awkward silence.
"You didn't do anything wrong, Adam. Why are you apologizing?"
"Well, because, I mean, obviously this isn't -- What's happened, it's --" He takes a breath, and I can see the speech he's prepared forming. "It might not be my fault, but that doesn't change what's happened. You've been... you've been amazing and cool and I've really appreciated it. I can't even tell you. But this whole thing is just a whole lot more than you should have to deal with, so --"
His hands flop into his lap like they suddenly went from being these flying things he couldn't control to being made of solid lead. Adam's eyes flittingly meet mine, and that might be the worst part of this, because Adam doesn't do conversations without eye-contact. This is really putting him in a bad head-space. "So, I'll totally understand you wanting to switch rooms; no hard feelings, no harm done. It's totally cool." His lips smirk faintly, seemingly without his permission, "You don't need all this drama."
I want to scream, "Oh, and you do?!" But I settle for saying it in the most normal voice I can manage, which is pretty darn good, if I do say so myself, considering I'm about three phone calls away from wringing actual necks right now.
It all boils down to: Someone hurt him. Someone hurt Adam and I'd so very much love to make them regret that.
"It is my drama, Kris."
"Yeah, okay, and exactly what you need right now is to be ditched by your friend? I don't think so."
"You don't need to be altruistic, Kris. You're a great guy; I'm not going to think badly of you. I know you're okay with the gay thing, you don't have to go through all this crap to prove it."
"This isn't about making a point or proving anything, Adam. You're my friend. You're going through a rough time. My role in this is clear, as far as I'm concerned."
He doesn't seem to know what to do with anything that's going on, especially this conversation. Especially me. Which, I would think by now -- but, whatever. A look crosses his face and he's got some of that intensity back in his eyes.
"Have -- have you even -- did you look at the pictures?"
I'm taken aback, I'll admit. "No. It's not my business. You're entitled to a private life, Adam. You're entitled to whatever life you led before Idol, whatever life you're living now, and whatever one you want to live in the future. Pictures of personal times those belong to you and whoever you're with in them, and only to you. I said it before, and I'm telling you now: however this happened, it's wrong, it's exploitive, and it's completely unfair. I wish I could make it go away, but the best I can do is stick by your side and face it down with you, however you want to do that."
I can't take this distance anymore. I put my hand on his forearm, "I don't need to know every little bit of your life. I'm open to whatever you want to share, whenever you want to share, but I'm not gonna poke around or anything. You're my friend, Adam. Yeah, we're in a competition, but that's -- that isn't as important as you -- as you being okay. I know we've only known each other for a few weeks, but I'd like to think that you know you can trust me, for whatever, you know. No matter what."
I let myself smile, a little forced at first, but smiling at Adam always feels so natural, so much like it's what I'm supposed to being doing.
"You're just gonna have to face it, Adam: you're stuck with me for the duration."
The look on Adam's face is one I will remember, as clearly as I see it now, for the rest of my life. I will be able to close my eyes as a little, old man, and replay these few seconds perfectly.
It's the middle of the night, but I swear, pure sunshine breaks into our room when Adam smiles, reaching out for me, pulling me in, a barely audible, "Come 'ere." that I think might have a few tears behind it. If so, neither of us mentions it. Willingly, like a magnetized Beanie Baby doll, I let myself get sucked into Adam's embrace, holding him as tightly as he does me. He snuffles just a tiny bit, and buries his face into the crook of my neck. I cling a little tighter; one hand splayed on his back, rubbing in what I hope is a soothing way, the other just gripped around his shoulder blade. I'm in no hurry to let go, and he doesn't seem to mind.
Yeah. I think we’re gonna be okay.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Kradam {Friendship/More?}; mentions of Bradam pictures
Length: 1,291 words - just a little one this time :)
Author's Yada Yada Yada: joannacullen is a beta goddess.
I haven't gotten to Country Night yet, but thought I'd throw this latest finished one at you. I'll be gone for a week starting Thursday, so I'll hopefully get a lot of writing done then. :) THANK YOU to everyone who's been so, so supportive and encouraging and just plain lovely to me lately! I luh you all, I really do. <3
Oh, also? Mods? May I have an author tag, please? Thank you, in advance!
He keeps looking at me.
It's that same expression he's had for the last eight hours, and I'm kind of getting tired of it.
Not as tired as I am of, say, the ridiculous frenzy that has exploded over a couple of pictures popping up on the internet. No, nowhere near that done, because the amount of done I am with people's overreactions to some photos of a guy and his boyfriend is at a level I can't even measure right now; especially when some of those people are only a few rooms away.
Honestly, I haven't even seen the stupid things yet- not sure I even care to, seeing as how it's so very much not my business and everything- but there's no way they're as scandalous as everyone's making them out to be. And even if they are, you know what? I don't really care. How is it anyone's business? It isn't.
Oh, and don't get me started on whoever "leaked" those shots. The thought of it is like chewing glass.
I can't imagine what Adam's going through right now, how he must be feeling. I truly can't even try to empathize, but if he doesn't stop tip-toeing around and sneaking glances at me in the least sneaky way possible - no matter how stealthy he thinks he's being - I am going to have to... well, I don't know, exactly. I just know it won't be pleasant.
Adam winces again, and I finally realize I've been muttering and tossing things around a bit harshly while settling in for the night. He must think --
"Adam?"
Wow, an actual human version of a deer staring down a semi-truck. Except, that means he's scared. Not even his worries over song choice are anything like this. I've never seen him look so unsure, so self-conscious.
Not because of me. There's no way he's nervous about what I'm gonna think; he already knows I don't care about this stuff. So why's he biting his lip and shuffling like he's awaiting punishment from the school principal?
"Adam." I step closer to him and my stomach rolls with a cold sickness when he visibly flinches and fights himself from backing up. I reach out my hand, gesturing to the bed in an invite for us to sit down and talk this out, because there is absolutely no way I'm going through another minute like this. Not with Adam.
We settle on the edge of his bed, not touching.
"Kris, I-I'm sorry. I--"
"Why?"
More blinking and nervousness. Poor Adam. For him to feel this anxious around me, what must he be used to with other people?
Don't go there, Kris. You'll only get angry again, and Adam needs you calm and focused on him right now.
He isn't answering, and I can't take this awkward silence.
"You didn't do anything wrong, Adam. Why are you apologizing?"
"Well, because, I mean, obviously this isn't -- What's happened, it's --" He takes a breath, and I can see the speech he's prepared forming. "It might not be my fault, but that doesn't change what's happened. You've been... you've been amazing and cool and I've really appreciated it. I can't even tell you. But this whole thing is just a whole lot more than you should have to deal with, so --"
His hands flop into his lap like they suddenly went from being these flying things he couldn't control to being made of solid lead. Adam's eyes flittingly meet mine, and that might be the worst part of this, because Adam doesn't do conversations without eye-contact. This is really putting him in a bad head-space. "So, I'll totally understand you wanting to switch rooms; no hard feelings, no harm done. It's totally cool." His lips smirk faintly, seemingly without his permission, "You don't need all this drama."
I want to scream, "Oh, and you do?!" But I settle for saying it in the most normal voice I can manage, which is pretty darn good, if I do say so myself, considering I'm about three phone calls away from wringing actual necks right now.
It all boils down to: Someone hurt him. Someone hurt Adam and I'd so very much love to make them regret that.
"It is my drama, Kris."
"Yeah, okay, and exactly what you need right now is to be ditched by your friend? I don't think so."
"You don't need to be altruistic, Kris. You're a great guy; I'm not going to think badly of you. I know you're okay with the gay thing, you don't have to go through all this crap to prove it."
"This isn't about making a point or proving anything, Adam. You're my friend. You're going through a rough time. My role in this is clear, as far as I'm concerned."
He doesn't seem to know what to do with anything that's going on, especially this conversation. Especially me. Which, I would think by now -- but, whatever. A look crosses his face and he's got some of that intensity back in his eyes.
"Have -- have you even -- did you look at the pictures?"
I'm taken aback, I'll admit. "No. It's not my business. You're entitled to a private life, Adam. You're entitled to whatever life you led before Idol, whatever life you're living now, and whatever one you want to live in the future. Pictures of personal times those belong to you and whoever you're with in them, and only to you. I said it before, and I'm telling you now: however this happened, it's wrong, it's exploitive, and it's completely unfair. I wish I could make it go away, but the best I can do is stick by your side and face it down with you, however you want to do that."
I can't take this distance anymore. I put my hand on his forearm, "I don't need to know every little bit of your life. I'm open to whatever you want to share, whenever you want to share, but I'm not gonna poke around or anything. You're my friend, Adam. Yeah, we're in a competition, but that's -- that isn't as important as you -- as you being okay. I know we've only known each other for a few weeks, but I'd like to think that you know you can trust me, for whatever, you know. No matter what."
I let myself smile, a little forced at first, but smiling at Adam always feels so natural, so much like it's what I'm supposed to being doing.
"You're just gonna have to face it, Adam: you're stuck with me for the duration."
The look on Adam's face is one I will remember, as clearly as I see it now, for the rest of my life. I will be able to close my eyes as a little, old man, and replay these few seconds perfectly.
It's the middle of the night, but I swear, pure sunshine breaks into our room when Adam smiles, reaching out for me, pulling me in, a barely audible, "Come 'ere." that I think might have a few tears behind it. If so, neither of us mentions it. Willingly, like a magnetized Beanie Baby doll, I let myself get sucked into Adam's embrace, holding him as tightly as he does me. He snuffles just a tiny bit, and buries his face into the crook of my neck. I cling a little tighter; one hand splayed on his back, rubbing in what I hope is a soothing way, the other just gripped around his shoulder blade. I'm in no hurry to let go, and he doesn't seem to mind.
Yeah. I think we’re gonna be okay.