Behind the Mask II
Title: Behind the Mask II
Fandom: AI8 RPS
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sequel to Behind the Mask. In which Kris is still not a fairy and he's not at all obsessing.
And one random kiss, one random incredible kiss that might have tipped the balance of Kris’ bisexuality was not worth focusing on. It was completely not worth focusing on. Nope. So he didn’t.
Word Count: 1975
A/N: This one focuses a little more on Kris. Enjoy! <3
When he wasn’t out gallivanting as a fairy, Kris actually worked two jobs - because Charles was lame and got them an apartment where the rent wasn’t set and after a week of living there it was pushed up. He spent what time he wasn’t sleeping or eating working between a music store (where he was allowed to sit and play on the piano and the guitars during the lulls) and a coffee shop (which he hated because every day without fail he burned himself or scalded himself with boiling hot water). But they needed the money, and Charles lifted boxes or something like that to pay the rent. Kris didn’t actually know what a runner did, but Charles enjoyed it and bought semi-famous people into the coffee shop where Kris worked occasionally.
The party had been three days ago and Kris had been thinking - obsessing - over the Prince Charming that had kissed him. Every time he saw some tall guy with dark hair walk past the door, his heart skipped a beat and his chest tightened in anticipation. He wondered when he’d turned into a teenaged girl; he was a big boy, and he certainly didn’t need someone to come in and sweep him off his feet or steal him away from his terrible life. His life was fine, thank you very much. And one random kiss, one random incredible kiss that might have tipped the balance of Kris’ bisexuality was not worth focusing on. It was completely not worth focusing on. Nope. So he didn’t.
At least, that’s what he told himself and everyone else that asked about the party. He told himself that he wasn’t watching out for the man to suddenly appear and kiss him again. Of course, Kris figured he wouldn’t recognise the guy even if he did see him again. They’d both been in costume, after all, and people looked very different when they were in every day clothes. Kris, for instance, did not have wings nor glitter. Well, the latter was a bit of a lie; Kris still found glitter on his pillow because that stuff sticks to you like anything. Julie - his boss at the coffee house - had picked some off his cheek just ten minutes ago and had shook her head, equal parts amused and despairing.
But that wasn’t the point. The point was that Kris was absolutely not obsessing over some guy that had kissed him probably thinking that he was someone else. Besides, they hadn’t spoken at all. He supposed words were redundant when you were playing tonsil hockey with someone, but a name would have been nice. At least then Kris could stop calling him ‘Prince Charming’ in his head and that would halt Kris’ growing worry that he was actually turning into a princess.
He definitely didn’t care. It was LA. People did that all the time if you believed books and movies and stuff. Kris didn’t, so he knew it was just a drunken thing that had happened and a case of mistaken identity and so what if that kiss had felt perfect? So what if he’d felt like he’d kissed those lips before a hundred times over the course of history? So what? It didn’t matter. Not at all. Because it was just some random guy and a random kiss and it was Kris’ first random kiss with a guy. Maybe being kind of gay was like being a virgin. The first person that takes it away automatically becomes something special inside your head, a building up of expectations that no actual human being could meet because it’s a fantasy? Kris liked that idea. Rationalising was good. It was his friend.
He’d been so distracted by pointedly not obsessing over Prince Charming that he wasn’t quite quick enough to move when Tina knocked over a cup of fresh coffee. It went all over Kris.
So that was how Kris ended up nursing another burned hand, damp strips of cloth wrapped around the swell of his thumb as he bussed tables, collecting coffee cups awkwardly. Trying to do everything with one hand and three fingers was hard, and at least this time the injury wasn’t his fault. He was a little worried because it hurt to move his thumb and he needed his hand to be in good working order for when he played later on at one of the smaller bars that had open mic nights.
He wrinkled his nose as he had precariously balanced the weight of the cups on the tray that lay flat against his palm. If he could get this back to the counter...
He turned around and stopped short because there was a chest in his way. The tray tilted in slow motion and Kris could already envisage the cups falling, slipping and sliding away and down onto the floor, Julie’s shout as he dropped to his knees to clean it up. That would be coming out of his pay and he couldn’t afford to have anything docked at the moment...
None of this happened, though, because the arm that was attached to The Chest shot out and held onto the edge of the tray. One of the cups fell over and dribbled its contents onto the tray like an over enthusiastic toddler but that was all that happened. Crisis averted, Kris looked up to see who it was he had to thank and offer free coffee to. He wasn’t expecting to see a tall, dark Adonis looking down at him with a small smile on his lips.
Kris felt something in his brain break.
“I- uh- thanks,” he said inarticulately, throat working because suddenly - as well as turning into an idiot - he couldn’t swallow. “You- that woulda been messy.”
He blinked a couple of times up at the stranger and looked oddly familiar but then Kris was aware that he didn’t know all the regulars officially, so maybe the guy came in here all the time and Kris is just stupid, because he’s an idiot now. The guy’s eyes were an insane blue-grey colour that Kris knew he’d seen before, but damn if he couldn’t remember where.
“No problem,” the tall stranger said as he actually took the tray from Kris’ hands. He seemed to be nice enough, putting it on the counter and when he turned back to look at Kris, his eyes dropped to the stupid name tag that they all had to wear. Like wearing lame uniforms wasn’t identification enough. His expression changed as those eyes fell on the peeling tag that read Kris and had a little picture of a guitar next to it.
“Kris, huh?” he said and Kris felt his knees go a little weak. The guy’s voice was like honey and sugar and something else amazing and wonderful that Kris couldn’t put words to. He wet his lower lip, like he wanted to say something else.
Kris, still in idiot mode just nodded his head, “Yeah, with a ‘K’.”
He was rewarded with a chuckle and one midnight blue polished finger poked his name tag. “I can see that.”
There was an electric charge in the air, a weight of expectation for some reason. Kris maybe thought that this stranger thought he was someone else (and wasn’t that a running theme in his life with hot men right now) because of the way that he was being looked at. Those intense eyes slid over his lips and Kris wet them without really thinking.
The next thing he knew, one self-manicured hand was curling in the front of his stupid green apron and pulling him closer. Lips pressed together and Kris knew from that first jolt why the guy looked familiar.
It was him. Prince Charming. Prince fucking Charming had just walked into his coffee shop and found him and kissed him in front of everybody. Kris didn’t know whether or not to be mortified or turned on and somehow found himself doing both. He kissed back, though his body had kind of frozen and it was taking all of his brain-power to just respond, let alone move.
It felt like a missing piece of Kris’ puzzle was being slotted back into place as he stood up on his tip-toes to catch Prince Charming’s lower lip with his teeth, surprising himself with how bold he was being and being oddly delighted with the shivered growl he got as a reward.
“Kris!” Julie’s voice cut through the haze of being kissed, meaning he had to pull back otherwise it would have gone a lot further, he was pretty sure. His eyes fluttered open and Prince Charming was looking a little sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing around. He chuckled softly, like it was okay for them to have made out in the middle of the day in a coffee house. “Quit canoodling and get back to work. Just because you have a burnt hand doesn’t mean you can start acting like a princess.”
Prince Charming laughed as Kris did at the unintentional irony of her comment. Kris felt his chest skip a beat when he was touched again, just a brush of fingertips over his cheek. There was something in Charming’s eyes that made Kris want to reach out and grab him, it looked like the guy was about to leave and they’d only exchanged a few words, and none of those words were his name or cell number.
“I- gotta-” Kris started and Prince Charming leaned down and pressed another kiss against his lips, just chaste and light, like he was checking something out. “-get back to work,” he finished lamely and Prince Charming just nodded. Apparently that tiny kiss had satisfied him. It hadn’t satisfied Kris. Kris wanted more, which was odd because he was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to feel like that after two - three - kisses with someone whose name he didn’t even know. Maybe it was one of those LA things that he didn’t understand yet because he was just an ordinary kid from Arkansas that came out to follow his dream.
“Yeah. Me too.” A glance at the door revealed a man in a suit and sunglasses looking distinctly unimpressed at whatever Prince Charming was doing, and it was only then that Kris noticed there were photographers lined up outside the windows taking pictures. That made him a little uncomfortable. What were they doing outside? And who was the man in a suit? He looked huge. “See you around?”
He turned and started to head towards the door when Kris finally regained the ability to speak and spun on his heel. “Wait!” Charming did. “What’s your name?”
For some reason - maybe because he’d been wrapped up and caught in Charming’s gravitational pull - Kris hadn’t noticed how weird everyone was acting. Now he did and Charming smiled softly. It made his eyes crease in the corners and he looked ten years younger. People had started talking now, whispering and a lot of it sounded incredulous. Why would they be incredulous?
“Adam,” he said finally and Kris felt that it suited him. “Adam Lambert.” The door was pulled open and there was a sudden rush of noise, voices overlapping each other as everyone tried to be heard, Adam’s name was being clamoured by the people with cameras. Reporters, dumbass his brain offered him helpfully. “See you around, Kris.”
Kris just watched him leave, the big man in a suit and sunglasses helping him through the throng of people and all he could think was Adam Lambert. Why do I know that name?
Onto Part 3!
Fandom: AI8 RPS
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sequel to Behind the Mask. In which Kris is still not a fairy and he's not at all obsessing.
And one random kiss, one random incredible kiss that might have tipped the balance of Kris’ bisexuality was not worth focusing on. It was completely not worth focusing on. Nope. So he didn’t.
Word Count: 1975
A/N: This one focuses a little more on Kris. Enjoy! <3
When he wasn’t out gallivanting as a fairy, Kris actually worked two jobs - because Charles was lame and got them an apartment where the rent wasn’t set and after a week of living there it was pushed up. He spent what time he wasn’t sleeping or eating working between a music store (where he was allowed to sit and play on the piano and the guitars during the lulls) and a coffee shop (which he hated because every day without fail he burned himself or scalded himself with boiling hot water). But they needed the money, and Charles lifted boxes or something like that to pay the rent. Kris didn’t actually know what a runner did, but Charles enjoyed it and bought semi-famous people into the coffee shop where Kris worked occasionally.
The party had been three days ago and Kris had been thinking - obsessing - over the Prince Charming that had kissed him. Every time he saw some tall guy with dark hair walk past the door, his heart skipped a beat and his chest tightened in anticipation. He wondered when he’d turned into a teenaged girl; he was a big boy, and he certainly didn’t need someone to come in and sweep him off his feet or steal him away from his terrible life. His life was fine, thank you very much. And one random kiss, one random incredible kiss that might have tipped the balance of Kris’ bisexuality was not worth focusing on. It was completely not worth focusing on. Nope. So he didn’t.
At least, that’s what he told himself and everyone else that asked about the party. He told himself that he wasn’t watching out for the man to suddenly appear and kiss him again. Of course, Kris figured he wouldn’t recognise the guy even if he did see him again. They’d both been in costume, after all, and people looked very different when they were in every day clothes. Kris, for instance, did not have wings nor glitter. Well, the latter was a bit of a lie; Kris still found glitter on his pillow because that stuff sticks to you like anything. Julie - his boss at the coffee house - had picked some off his cheek just ten minutes ago and had shook her head, equal parts amused and despairing.
But that wasn’t the point. The point was that Kris was absolutely not obsessing over some guy that had kissed him probably thinking that he was someone else. Besides, they hadn’t spoken at all. He supposed words were redundant when you were playing tonsil hockey with someone, but a name would have been nice. At least then Kris could stop calling him ‘Prince Charming’ in his head and that would halt Kris’ growing worry that he was actually turning into a princess.
He definitely didn’t care. It was LA. People did that all the time if you believed books and movies and stuff. Kris didn’t, so he knew it was just a drunken thing that had happened and a case of mistaken identity and so what if that kiss had felt perfect? So what if he’d felt like he’d kissed those lips before a hundred times over the course of history? So what? It didn’t matter. Not at all. Because it was just some random guy and a random kiss and it was Kris’ first random kiss with a guy. Maybe being kind of gay was like being a virgin. The first person that takes it away automatically becomes something special inside your head, a building up of expectations that no actual human being could meet because it’s a fantasy? Kris liked that idea. Rationalising was good. It was his friend.
He’d been so distracted by pointedly not obsessing over Prince Charming that he wasn’t quite quick enough to move when Tina knocked over a cup of fresh coffee. It went all over Kris.
So that was how Kris ended up nursing another burned hand, damp strips of cloth wrapped around the swell of his thumb as he bussed tables, collecting coffee cups awkwardly. Trying to do everything with one hand and three fingers was hard, and at least this time the injury wasn’t his fault. He was a little worried because it hurt to move his thumb and he needed his hand to be in good working order for when he played later on at one of the smaller bars that had open mic nights.
He wrinkled his nose as he had precariously balanced the weight of the cups on the tray that lay flat against his palm. If he could get this back to the counter...
He turned around and stopped short because there was a chest in his way. The tray tilted in slow motion and Kris could already envisage the cups falling, slipping and sliding away and down onto the floor, Julie’s shout as he dropped to his knees to clean it up. That would be coming out of his pay and he couldn’t afford to have anything docked at the moment...
None of this happened, though, because the arm that was attached to The Chest shot out and held onto the edge of the tray. One of the cups fell over and dribbled its contents onto the tray like an over enthusiastic toddler but that was all that happened. Crisis averted, Kris looked up to see who it was he had to thank and offer free coffee to. He wasn’t expecting to see a tall, dark Adonis looking down at him with a small smile on his lips.
Kris felt something in his brain break.
“I- uh- thanks,” he said inarticulately, throat working because suddenly - as well as turning into an idiot - he couldn’t swallow. “You- that woulda been messy.”
He blinked a couple of times up at the stranger and looked oddly familiar but then Kris was aware that he didn’t know all the regulars officially, so maybe the guy came in here all the time and Kris is just stupid, because he’s an idiot now. The guy’s eyes were an insane blue-grey colour that Kris knew he’d seen before, but damn if he couldn’t remember where.
“No problem,” the tall stranger said as he actually took the tray from Kris’ hands. He seemed to be nice enough, putting it on the counter and when he turned back to look at Kris, his eyes dropped to the stupid name tag that they all had to wear. Like wearing lame uniforms wasn’t identification enough. His expression changed as those eyes fell on the peeling tag that read Kris and had a little picture of a guitar next to it.
“Kris, huh?” he said and Kris felt his knees go a little weak. The guy’s voice was like honey and sugar and something else amazing and wonderful that Kris couldn’t put words to. He wet his lower lip, like he wanted to say something else.
Kris, still in idiot mode just nodded his head, “Yeah, with a ‘K’.”
He was rewarded with a chuckle and one midnight blue polished finger poked his name tag. “I can see that.”
There was an electric charge in the air, a weight of expectation for some reason. Kris maybe thought that this stranger thought he was someone else (and wasn’t that a running theme in his life with hot men right now) because of the way that he was being looked at. Those intense eyes slid over his lips and Kris wet them without really thinking.
The next thing he knew, one self-manicured hand was curling in the front of his stupid green apron and pulling him closer. Lips pressed together and Kris knew from that first jolt why the guy looked familiar.
It was him. Prince Charming. Prince fucking Charming had just walked into his coffee shop and found him and kissed him in front of everybody. Kris didn’t know whether or not to be mortified or turned on and somehow found himself doing both. He kissed back, though his body had kind of frozen and it was taking all of his brain-power to just respond, let alone move.
It felt like a missing piece of Kris’ puzzle was being slotted back into place as he stood up on his tip-toes to catch Prince Charming’s lower lip with his teeth, surprising himself with how bold he was being and being oddly delighted with the shivered growl he got as a reward.
“Kris!” Julie’s voice cut through the haze of being kissed, meaning he had to pull back otherwise it would have gone a lot further, he was pretty sure. His eyes fluttered open and Prince Charming was looking a little sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing around. He chuckled softly, like it was okay for them to have made out in the middle of the day in a coffee house. “Quit canoodling and get back to work. Just because you have a burnt hand doesn’t mean you can start acting like a princess.”
Prince Charming laughed as Kris did at the unintentional irony of her comment. Kris felt his chest skip a beat when he was touched again, just a brush of fingertips over his cheek. There was something in Charming’s eyes that made Kris want to reach out and grab him, it looked like the guy was about to leave and they’d only exchanged a few words, and none of those words were his name or cell number.
“I- gotta-” Kris started and Prince Charming leaned down and pressed another kiss against his lips, just chaste and light, like he was checking something out. “-get back to work,” he finished lamely and Prince Charming just nodded. Apparently that tiny kiss had satisfied him. It hadn’t satisfied Kris. Kris wanted more, which was odd because he was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to feel like that after two - three - kisses with someone whose name he didn’t even know. Maybe it was one of those LA things that he didn’t understand yet because he was just an ordinary kid from Arkansas that came out to follow his dream.
“Yeah. Me too.” A glance at the door revealed a man in a suit and sunglasses looking distinctly unimpressed at whatever Prince Charming was doing, and it was only then that Kris noticed there were photographers lined up outside the windows taking pictures. That made him a little uncomfortable. What were they doing outside? And who was the man in a suit? He looked huge. “See you around?”
He turned and started to head towards the door when Kris finally regained the ability to speak and spun on his heel. “Wait!” Charming did. “What’s your name?”
For some reason - maybe because he’d been wrapped up and caught in Charming’s gravitational pull - Kris hadn’t noticed how weird everyone was acting. Now he did and Charming smiled softly. It made his eyes crease in the corners and he looked ten years younger. People had started talking now, whispering and a lot of it sounded incredulous. Why would they be incredulous?
“Adam,” he said finally and Kris felt that it suited him. “Adam Lambert.” The door was pulled open and there was a sudden rush of noise, voices overlapping each other as everyone tried to be heard, Adam’s name was being clamoured by the people with cameras. Reporters, dumbass his brain offered him helpfully. “See you around, Kris.”
Kris just watched him leave, the big man in a suit and sunglasses helping him through the throng of people and all he could think was Adam Lambert. Why do I know that name?
Onto Part 3!