Behind the Mask VI
Title: Behind the Mask VI
Fandom: AI8 RPS
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sequel to Behind the Mask V. Where Brad is not a bellhop, Charles is not helpful and Kris and Adam... well, they are insatiable.
Three days and Kris was quite sure that Adam had taken it upon himself to text every thought that went through his head Kris’ way. Kris guessed it was Adam’s way of reassuring Kris that he meant more than just a blowjob in a dressing room and a few really incredible kisses.
Word Count: 7275
A/N: Part 6 of this epic ‘verse! Kris and Adam kind of ran away with me here! Enjoy this installment, feedback is love <3
It had been three days, three long days. Adam had come back to the dressing room after meeting and greeting and they had kissed some more, Kris had dropped to his knees and found out that Adam was loud when he was being given head, and when Adam proved that his hands were just as talented as the rest of him, Kris had seen stars when he came. Kris could still remember the way that Adam’s lips felt against his, biting and sucking and leaving marks on Kris’ body that were only just starting to fade. He still had a thrill whenever he ran his fingers over his collarbone.
They hadn’t had sex. Kris refrained from mentally referring to the action as ‘making love’ because that was what you did with boyfriends, not random superstars that came out of nowhere and fucked with your mind and then disappeared. Not that Adam had actually disappeared, Kris’ cell was inundated with texts, mundane things from Eggs n bacon 4 brekfast. Dont they know I’m watching my weight? to Saw these shoes. had to have them. what do you think? Three days and Kris was quite sure that Adam had taken it upon himself to text every thought that went through his head Kris’ way. Kris guessed it was Adam’s way of reassuring Kris that he meant more than just a blowjob in a dressing room and a few really incredible kisses (it definitely meant more to Kris; he’d never gotten onto his knees for a guy before).
“You know, it’s kind of sickening,” Charles said through a mouthful of popcorn. They were watching a movie (Kris didn’t know which one and he didn’t really care because Adam was texting him every five minutes with something new and inane and that was far more interesting than any movie could ever be). “You and him.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Kris said, firing a text back and looking up at his best friend. “You’re just pissed because most of his friends are guys and therefore you can’t get hooked up with a hot girl by proxy.”
“That fact aside,” Charles waved a hand dismissively and shoved another fistful of popcorn into his mouth. Kris wondered how Charles ever got laid if he acted like that around women. “And the fact that you never seem to want to actually make a go of being famous. You could totally do it, all the singer-songwriter kind of dorky artists are in at the moment. Look at Jason Castro and Jason Mraz.”
“Their names both start with ‘jason’, Charles,” Kris said as if that was the only reason Kris wasn’t famous yet, “I’m ‘Kris’. I’m breaking the trend by my parents calling me ‘Kristopher’.”
“That’s not an excuse, you’re just being pathetic and scared and a huge pussy and that’s not an attractive look on guys.”
“And you’d know that... how?” Kris asked, not hearing Charles’ reply because Adam texted him again and Kris’ senses honed in on the small screen of his crappy little phone. He wished he had a better one. If he did, then he wouldn’t feel quite so much like a small boy in a huge city. He texted back, something about eyeliner and leather.
“...and Kris wears panties and likes cock.”
Kris had been caught out not listening, but he’d been friends with Charles for long enough that it didn’t phase him, “You got half of that right,” he said with a half smirk in Charles’ direction.
Charles coughed on his popcorn. He wasn’t expecting Kris to be unflustered. He didn’t like it when Kris was unflustered. “Which half?”
“You’ll just have to guess.” Kris said enigmatically and got to his feet. He stretched his arms above his head, feeling something in his lower spine pop in a very satisfying way. He groaned as it released and the tension across his lower back lessened.
Charles shook his head, “I don’t like this new you. I preferred it when I was the smart ass.”
Kris just laughed and looked at his phone again. There was another message from Adam.
Adam: Meet me @ my hotel in 30? U no where it is. Booked under a different name, can u guess who? ;)
What did it say about Kris that he stuffed his feet into his sneakers and had his keys in his pocket before he realised that Charles was still sat on the couch, frozen in position and looking rather quizzically at his best friend.
“Where are you going?” he asked before catching himself and dropping his popcorn back into the bowl. “Never mind, I take it back. Glambert’s calling you forth.”
Kris snorted. “I’ll be back later. Or tomorrow... I don’t know. I’ll let you know?”
Charles just frowned. “I know that you can’t explain your sudden and undeniable attraction and compulsion to the Glambulge, but this isn’t you. You don’t do this. Random hookups with guys that aren’t gonna commit to you isn’t... it’s not you, Kris. And your momma would kill us both if LA compromised who you are.”
Kris just sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “I know. It’s just- this thing with Adam - he has a name, you know - is different. He’s different.”
“How do you know he doesn’t treat all of his random fucks like this? Like they’re princes and then when he gets bored just shoves them aside? I don’t wanna see you getting hurt, man, and as tough as I am, his guards look tougher and I couldn’t punch him out for breaking your little heart.”
Kris wrinkled his nose and tugged his jacket on, wallet and keys slipping into his pocket. “He won’t,” he said confidently, and he didn’t know how he knew, he just did. He also hated that a tiny part of his mind, the cynical part that had appeared since he got to LA and found out that life wasn’t as sparkly as everyone made it seem, snatched Charles’ words and filed them away for future reference. “And if that does ever happen, you can be the first person to say ‘I told you so’, okay?”
“Fine,” Charles said, trying to look pleased with that but they both knew it wasn’t true. Charles had taken it upon himself to try and protect Kris, after the break up with Katy, he had been the only person that had gone ‘well, now the whole world can want you when you’re famous’ at the revelation of Kris’ bisexuality. He was cool like that. Kris loved him dearly, but not in a gay way. “Go and have fun. I won’t wait up for you. Just think of me here, all alone without a hot woman whilst you’re having crazy gay sex.”
Kris laughed and pulled open the front door. “Go out and find a hot woman, then, and as much as I love you, your face in my head during sex would probably kill the mood.”
Popcorn was thrown in his direction but it fell woefully short. “You better clean that up,” Kris said as he stepped out of the apartment and pulled the door shut behind him. He laughed softly to himself and shook his head before he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. He hadn’t even checked what he looked like before leaving the house. He regretted that, but if he went back in, he’d never stop hearing jokes about cold feet and blue balls.
It was a simple enough decision; go to the hotel where Adam was staying. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a house in LA; Kris had heard all about it, but for some reason Adam wasn’t living there at the moment. It was entirely possible it was being fumigated for a bug infestation, or there was an ex that refused to move out, or it was being redecorated. Kris didn’t want to hazard a guess as to why a rock star wouldn’t be living in his own house. He supposed rock stars were weird that way. Adam was certainly not someone that could be classified as ‘ordinary’, so living in a hotel probably made perfect sense to him.
Flagging down a cab, Kris climbed in and was silent on the whole way to the hotel, only thanking the driver when he got out and paid. His palms were a little sweaty by that point, feeling nervous because what if he did look awful? What if he looked like crap and Adam had just met some pretty boy and Kris would pale in comparison? Or what if Adam decided that their phone conversations were enough and that it was nice to have someone to talk to but not someone to be seen with? That would suck, but then Kris wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to be outed to the world as Adam Lambert’s boyfriend.
He caught his thoughts before they ran away with him any more than they already had. He was being really presumptuous in assuming that Adam would want to be his boyfriend anyway. Adam probably had people flinging themselves at him on a regular basis. He didn’t need Kris to make him feel validated, but he still kept talking to him. That made Kris feel at least a little special. A little.
“There you are!” a voice exclaimed as Kris stepped into the lobby. He was accosted by a man who wasn’t much taller than him and had incredible cheekbones and brown eyes. He was dressed in something approaching a bellhop’s uniform if a bellhop wore a red button down that showed off their stomachs and if they were allowed to have their trousers painted on. The hat sat at a jaunty angle on top of his head. Kris blinked stupidly a couple of times. “He told me to meet you here because you’d go up to the front desk and ask to see him like an idiot and then you’d get swamped by the paps.”
“Uh...” Kris managed articulately and the man who had apparently been sent by Adam just flapped his hands and draped an arm over Kris’ shoulders.
“I’m Brad.” the not-bellhop announced as he steered Kris towards the front desk. “And you’re Kris. He told me to look out for the little guy in plaid.”
Kris wondered if he should be offended at that description. He must have looked that way because Brad cut in quickly, correcting himself. “Well, no, not in so many words. He said something else entirely, and then added that you might be in plaid. You don’t disappoint.”
He tutted, clicking his tongue behind his teeth. “Honey, do you have any clothes that fit you properly?” Kris jumped when he felt a hand against his lower back that then plucked at the waistband of his jeans. They were a little baggy, but Kris liked that. Tight clothes made him feel like he might suffocate.
“These fit me fine.”
“If you were a size bigger. You’ve probably got an amazing body hidden underneath all those layers. I’ll take you shopping.” Brad looked positively gleeful at the prospect and Kris wondered if he’d been involved in an accident and this was purgatory because he was sure he was supposed to be meeting Adam, not Adam’s friend Brad the not-bellhop who wanted to take him shopping.
“I like my clothes to be comfortable,” Kris said and obviously that was the wrong thing to say.
“Seriously, if you’re going to be around longer, you need to... change it up a little.” Brad’s hand slid underneath Kris’ jacket and he jumped again. “Relax, I’m not gonna do anything inappropriate here. The elevator, on the other hand...” he winked and Kris hated that he couldn’t tell if Brad was joking or not.
Whatever else he might have said was lost because Brad leaned against the front desk. “Mr Bell,” the receptionist said resignedly, “we’ve asked you before not to dress like that.”
Brad just grinned at her, infuriating and charming and she fought a smile herself.
“We’re here to see Kristopher Allen,” he said without missing a beat. He glanced back at Kris and grinned again - evilly this time - at the confusion on Kris’ face.
“Oh yeah, honey, you’re a keeper.” It was almost like he’d decided it as he tugged on Kris’ arm and lead him away, room key dangling from one finger. How novel, Kris managed to think absently, that the hotel still had keys and not cards.
Once they were out of earshot of the receptionist and anyone else that might overhear (in the elevator that Kris wasn’t entirely sure Brad wouldn’t stop and try and undress him because he did look like Kris’ clothes were offending him personally), Kris said, “But I’m Kris Allen.”
“I know that, and Adam knows that. But he likes pseudonyms. Don’t ask me. It’s a rock star thing.” Brad looked bored and checked his fingernails as the elevator moved. “Last month he was Ringo Starr. Before that Reg Dwight. He likes to change it up a little. This is the first time he’s used someone who isn’t famous.”
Kris lifted an eyebrow. “So I should feel... what, honoured?”
“No, honey, you should feel fucking spectacular.” Brad corrected, pushing the key into Kris’ hand. “And don’t screw it up.”
“Screw what up?” Kris asked as the doors opened. Brad just lifted one shoulder.
“If you have to ask...” he started, pressing a kiss to the corner of Kris’ cheek, “then I’m not telling. Now shoo. I have a party to get to and you’re making me more than fashionably late.”
He gave Kris a friendly shove and wiggled his fingers in a parting wave as the doors closed with a ping and Kris was left standing in the hallway feeling ruffled and underdressed and confused as all hell. He swallowed and looked at the key in his hand.
The fob was engraved with the number 33. There were only two doors on the floor, one at either side of the hall and Kris wondered just how big the rooms inside were. Probably larger than his whole apartment. He wouldn’t be surprised, LA was kind of unbalanced like that. He stood outside the elevator stupidly for a moment before he decided to stop being an idiot. He gathered his bravado. Adam had asked to meet him there. With that in mind, he squared his shoulders and, badly dressed according to the not-bellhop Brad, strode towards the door on his left. It was number 32. Of course. He laughed softly at himself before he turned on his heel and headed towards the other door. The corridor seemed to elongate as he approached the door. It hadn’t been that long to walk to the other end. Stupid uneven hotels.
When he got to the door there was a note stuck to it. Adam’s handwriting was tidier than Kris expected it to be, but then in Kris’ imagination, everyone’s handwriting was supposed to bethe same kind of illegible chicken-scratch that his was.
Go in, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be along as soon as I’ve finished this press thing. There’s beer in the fridge. Try not to get too drunk, ok?
See you soon! :)
-A
Kris pulled the note off the door and used the key to get into the room. He was right; it was huge. Huge didn’t even cover how big the room was, actually. It was immense. Kris’ whole apartment probably could have fitted twice into the space at least, and he hadn’t even seen the bedroom or the bathroom yet. He rubbed the back of his neck and heard the door slide shut behind him as he moved towards the kitchenette. It was tidy, freshly cleaned it looked like, and smelt a little like apple disinfectant.
Leaving the key and the note on the side, Kris took a beer out of the fridge (and the six pack had another note on with a smiley face and a reminder not to get drunk but that they all had to be drunk at some point because Adam did not drink light beer).
Perching on the counter felt wrong, but then so did sitting on the couch. He tried both. Kris decided that he was going to explore and turned the TV on to have some kind of background noise as he did so. He didn’t touch any drawers or cupboards; his momma had always told him it was okay to go snooping as long as you didn’t touch anything. Drawers weren’t to be opened, you could just snoop at the things on display. His momma never would have made a very good detective.
It didn’t help that he was kind of nervous. Uncomfortable. He was alone in Adam’s hotel room and he had no idea of what to expect when Adam arrived. Had he just turned into a booty-call? Was that what this was? Kris should have been more bothered than he was at the idea of that. Sex with Adam wasn’t something he could ever turn down. Anyone who did would be mental, but Kris wasn’t sure he liked the idea of Adam having a boyfriend and someone he could use as a booty-call. Kris was no cheap ‘ho.
There was a guitar in the corner of the bedroom and Kris crossed over to it and picked it up. It was new, barely used. He could tell because of the way that it felt underneath his palm, smooth and unloved. No wear in the varnish on the neck from years of careful use, no fingerprints on the keys used to tune it. He strummed it once, carefully, and winced at the sound it made. It needed tuning, badly.
He couldn’t hear anyone else in the room, and the TV was still happily talking to itself, so Kris took the guitar out of the bedroom and perched on the edge of table near the wall, one leg crossed over the other and feet hanging in the air as he cradled the guitar in his hands, fingers strumming and head tilted as he tuned it. His eyes were half closed, lip between his teeth as he focused. Tuning by ear was hard, and it had taken him a long time to learn how to do it, but he had done and he was proud of himself for having done so.
Of course, like any addict (because music is a drug and anyone who told you otherwise is a liar), one hit wasn’t enough and once the guitar was tuned, Kris sat for a moment just strumming the open strings and enjoying the clean sound that rang out through the apartment, even over the sound of the television. When his fingers formed into the shape of an E chord he knew he was lost. He shouldn’t be playing on Adam’s instrument, but he couldn’t help himself. He was drawn to the guitar like it was a magnet and usually he just ran with it. It was easier that way.
He ran through the songs he’d sang the other night in the bar, the short set-list that didn’t go down as well as he’d hoped, but he wasn’t a genius and he wasn’t famous, so he couldn’t be blamed for that. That and he was pretty sure people weren’t ready for an acoustic, reworked version of Heartless.
He was halfway through one of his own songs, eyes closed and fingers moving on the guitar without having to think about what they were doing when he heard a soft holy shit and his fingers slipped on the frets. The guitar made a discordant noise, unhappy with Kris’ movements and his voice died in his throat. Adam was standing there, just staring at him. He was wearing some ridiculous outfit (Kris had always been quite vocal about the things Adam chose to wear on stage, ranging from the ridiculous to the flamboyantly gay - the latter of which just made Adam laugh down the phone and say ”Honey? How could you think otherwise?”) and he’d caught Kris singing. The platform boots made Adam even taller and Kris slid off the table, holding the guitar out like a peace offering. Adam was just staring. Why was Adam staring?
Kris’ eyes dropped to the floor and he shuffled his feet, feeling his cheeks warming. Embarrassment mixed with mortification at having been seen and those emotions were struggling with an increasing sense of arousal because there was something intense about being looked at so openly by Adam.
“Sorry, I- it just was there and I can’t help it. It’s like my hands have minds of their own, you know?” he babbled, taking half a step back with the intention of putting the guitar down, or giving it back to Adam, but those platforms - that were glittery, God, how did Adam do that? - came closer until they were touching the toes of Kris’ non-glittery, beat up old converse.
Adam’s hand covered Kris’ around the neck of the guitar and he lifted it until it could be rested down on the table. Once sure it was going to be safe, Adam encouraged Kris to let it go.
“Sorry,” Kris said again and Adam just shook his head. His hands clasped around Kris’ head and he pulled him up and into a kiss, backing the smaller man towards the wall. Kris’ arms wrapped around Adam’s neck and he stood on his very tip-toes because Adam was tall anyway, but with those boots on Kris didn’t stand a chance, and he groaned into Adams’ mouth when his back hit the wall.
It was awkward, Adam’s hands moved from his face to his hips, and one fell away, curses spilled out against his neck as Adam’s mouth rested there and then suddenly, two thuds later, Adam was shorter, more on Kris’ level and they were kissing again. A thigh slid between Kris’ and pushed up and Kris rocked into it, biting at Adam’s lower lip and just reacting. How could he not? Adam hadn’t said anything and Kris was not someone who did this normally, but Adam made him do a lot of things that he wouldn’t normally do and Kris couldn’t bring himself to care all that much. Whilst one of his hands went into Adam’s hair, tugging on the strands to punctuate each desperate, messy kiss, his other one slid down into the back pocket of the tight, black trousers Adam was wearing. He squeezed once and Adam’s hips rocked forward into his.
“Adam,” he panted, breath catching and voice shaking as his hips rolled unthinkingly towards Adam’s again, the friction wanting to steal his thoughts away, Adam’s mouth trying to do just that, “we-”
“Bedroom,” Adam merely growled, hands moving again, restlessly like Kris’ body was braille and he was trying to speed read it. Cool fingertips slid underneath Kris’ shirt and his stomach twitched, reluctantly pulling his arms away from Adam so that his t-shirt could be ripped off once his shirt had been shoved off his shoulders and left to puddle in a disappointed pile on the floor. The forgotten pile of plaid that got stood on when they moved towards the bedroom. It wasn’t too far, Kris had been shoved up against the wall next to it, after all.
“Sure,” Kris managed, feeling a little self-conscious now that he was shirtless and Adam was still fully clothed, but like he’d read Kris’ mind, Adam shrugged out of his jacket and yanked his own shirt off, dropping to the floor (and Kris knew, somehow, that Adam would freak out about that later, that shirt probably cost more than Kris’ first car). Hands were on his belt and Kris didn’t realise that they were his until he felt Adam’s eyes on him again, a slight smirk curving those lips.
Adam’s hands reached out, covering Kris’ and taking them off his belt. “So I had planned to talk to you,” he said, voice a little rough as he walked Kris back towards the bed. Somehow, Kris managed to toe off his sneakers because getting your trousers caught in your shoes when you were trying to get them off was not sexy. “Ask you about your day and all that.” He punctuated his sentence with another kiss, catching Kris’ wrist when he reached up to cup Adam’s cheek.
Kris’ lips pulled into a pout that Adam kissed again. Talking was going to be difficult if Adam kept kissing him. Not that Kris minded; he wasn’t insane. “So why didn’t you?” he asked, leaning forward because Adam was fiddling with his belt and tugging it off. He caught Adam’s earlobe between his teeth and sucked it into his mouth, curling his tongue over the lower edge.
Adam’s breath caught and his hands stilled for a second, flexing against Kris’ hips. Kris filed that reaction away for a later date. His belt was snapped away and tossed to the side as a reaction to the bite and Adam’s hands were on his jeans, undoing them with deft fingers.
“Because you fucked up the plan,” Adam breathed against Kris’ ear. He tipped his head to give Adam access to his neck, his body once again reacting without his head’s permission. He gasped when he felt Adam’s hand slide into his open jeans, the cool metal of his rings a contrast to the wamth of Adam’s hand. His hips twitched once into the touch. He felt lips over his pulse, the flicker of a tongue. “Do you know you look like you’re coming when you sing?”
That question startled a laugh out of Kris. “No?” he answered, sounding more like he was asking if that was the right answer. His knees felt weak when Adam’s hand moved, curling and twisting and trying to take Kris apart piece by piece. He didn’t want to keep standing, orgasms robbed him of his ability to do anything fun with his legs.
“God, your voice,” Adam continued, nosing his way down Kris’ neck and pressing little kisses there. His hand moved in an agonsingly slow way, driving Kris crazy, his hips moving to try and counteract the slow touch, speed it up, give him more. “It’s incredible, so raw and real.” Lips touched the join of Kris’ shoulder and neck and he let out a shaky breath. Adam’s thumb brushed over the sensitive bundle of nerves and Kris’ surprised gasp drew a chuckle from the singer.
Adam sucked a mark at that same spot, Kris’ shoulder hitching up a little and his blood rushing hot and cold all at once at the prospect of being marked as Adam’s. No one would see it, Kris didn’t make a habit of walking around topless but he would know it was there and that was enough. His jeans had been moved off his hips now, succumbing to gravity’s pull and lay pooled around his ankles along with the last of Kris’ dignity. Adam stopped peppering kisses along Kris’ collarbone to glance down. He still had his own trousers on, but Kris’ pleasure was more important, and with a wicked smirk on his lips, he sunk to his knees in one smooth movement, hand still curled around Kris’ base as his mouth closed over the head.
Kris groaned, low and broken as his stomach twitched and tensed, trying not to give in to his body’s urge to move into the warm, wet heat that had just surrounded him. Sparks went off in his brain as Adam started to move, tongue curling and teasing, looking up at Kris through smoke-rimmed eyes, the grey-blue standing out like torchlight in the dark, smirking up at him as he sucked and teased.
He twisted his fingers in Adam’s hair, just holding and not forcing, whilst the other hand twisted in his own hair, tighter than necessary to stop him from just falling apart completely. It had only been three days since they’d been together and it had been incredible, but nothing compared to this. “Ad-ah!-am,” he tried, but Adam’s hand sliding down to tease the inside of his thighs stopped his words again. The pressure inside him was beginning to build, starting as a low heat in his stomach, moving to collect at the base of his spine. It wasn’t long before Adam was pulling off with a wet pop and Kris was confused as to why he’d stopped.
“You can move, you know,” Adam said, fingers trailing over Kris. “I want you do.”
Before he could pull enough higher-brain functions together to answer, Adam was sliding back onto him again, sinful lips stretched around Kris as the hands that had previously been holding Kris still encouraged him to move. Ever conscientious, though, Kris didn’t lose himself until the very end when his body just moved on autopilot and his brain was sparking. He squeezed his eyes closed and gripped at Adam’s hair, the only warning he was able to give before he came, the pressure unbearable as he let out some unintelligible babble, Adam’s name in there somewhere. He couldn’t look down even though he wanted to, his head had tipped backwards and somewhere in his mind the hallelujah chorus was going off because there was no feeling in the world that would beat that one. He was sure of it.
He came back to his senses to feel Adam kissing his way up his stomach and chest. A kiss was pressed to his chin and Kris moved to catch Adam’s mouth, tasting himself on the edge of Adam’s tongue. His hands returned to Adam’s shoulders, holding himself up as one arm went around his back.
“I wish I had a camera for that moment,” Adam muttered against Kris’ mouth. Kris just smiled and bit at Adam’s lower lip, brain still not functioning well enough to actually form words. Instead, his hand trailed down Adam’s bare chest, fingers stopping briefly at his collarbone until Kris’ mouth joined it, tracing over the freckles that were usually hidden by shirts and clothing and make up. Kris’ hand trailed lower, resting at the band of Adam’s trousers and would have undone them had Adam not caught him.
Kris looked up again, kissing the curve of Adam’s jaw, nose pressed against the point just underneath his ear where he could smell Adam as well as the cologne and the make up.
“I want to-” Adam breathed out a soft sigh as Kris just about nuzzled that spot, pressing a kiss there. “Can I?”
“Yeah,” Kris answered the unspoken question and swallowed past his nerves. It was a big step, and one he never would do on a booty call like this because that was cheap and low but it was Adam and Kris just couldn’t explain the way that Adam made him feel and the reactions that Adam drew out in him. He just wanted everything, all of it all at once.
The smile that broke out over Adam’s face made Kris’ heart flutter like a bird in a cage. It warmed Kris and he wanted to remember that look. He didn’t get a lot of time to commit it to memory though because the winning, I-can’t-believe-you-said-yes smile was replaced with a dark-eyed expression of want. Adam’s hands slid over Kris’ arms and to his hips. “Get on the bed?” he asked, pressing another kiss to Kris’ lips before he was undoing his own pants and stepping out of them.
Kris sat down on the edge of the bed and couldn’t help noticing that Adam had gone commando. It shot an uncontrollable surge of want through him. He wet his lower lip and shifted a little more, tugging off his socks because he remembered that sex should never happen with socks on. That was unsexy too, and seeing Kris do that made Adam laugh.
“You know, most people would be freaking out about being here,” Adam commented off-handedly as he grabbed a condom and a tube of KY from the drawer beside the bed. Kris snorted and reached out for Adam, shifting up onto the pillows.
“Most people aren’t me,” he answered, pulling Adam into another kiss meaning that the singer ended up just about on top of him. He felt more than heard the top of the KY come off as Adam shifted above him without even breaking the kiss.
“No,” he mumbled against Kris’ mouth and Kris heard the tube be squeezed and felt the cool touch of Adam’s lube-slick fingers against his thigh, “they’re really not.”
There was a tone in Adam’s voice that, if Kris couldn’t feel Adam’s fingers slipping further back and pressing against him, he would have wanted to analyse, as it was, he felt the first touch of Adam’s finger pressing against him and the tip just sliding inside and he planted his feet on the mattress and lifted his hips, giving Adam that little more access.
They were kissing again as Adam prepared him, one finger became two, scissoring and moving and Kris got more and more frustrated with the slow pace that Adam had going on. He was moving and touching like he was trying to remember everything about this. His other hand trailed over Kris’ chest, touching and kissing marks and scars that chronicled the story of Kris’ life on his skin. It looked almost like Adam was categorising them, learning about them so he could ask about them later on.
“I’m ready,” Kris grunted, pressing down onto Adam’s fingers, working himself open as much as Adam was. “Come on, I’m good to go.”
Adam snorted and pressed a kiss to Kris’ nipple, biting at it gently. “Patience is a virtue,” he said, adding a second later as he soothed away any pain that might have come from the bite with a kiss, “besides, I don’t want to hurt you.”
There was that tone again, but Adam’s fingers crooked and hit that spot that made Kris’ breath catch and his hips twitch. Kris didn’t have time to think on tones or anything like that. He tipped his head back and pressed it against the pillow and Adam smiled.
“Now you’re ready,” he said and Kris could have smacked him for sounding so self satisfied. His fingers slid out of Kris and he bit his lip to stifle the disappointed sound that tried to escape him. He knew what was coming next and he took a few breaths to just keep it together. He heard the sound of foil tearing and Adam biting out a curse as he slid the condom onto himself and lubed up. Kris just wriggled and lifted his head from where it was buried in the pillows to look at Adam. He was gorgeous. Really gorgeous.
“I’m way past ready, rock star,” Kris teased, lifting his hips and shifting as Adam moved closer and lined himself up. Their lips met again as Adam pushed gently and slowly into Kris, the fine tremble in his arms giving away that Adam was taking his time for Kris, and that it was killing him to take it so slow. “Just do it,” Kris murmured against Adam’s ear as his hand slid up one trembling arm to grip Adam’s shoulder. His nails left little half-moon indents in the pale skin as Adam sank home with a low groan. He pressed his face against Kris’ collarbone, breath warm against Kris’ sensitive skin.
“Fuck,” he breathed, voice tight and strained as Kris lifted a leg to hook it over Adam’s hip. He moved slightly and Adam groaned again, hands fisting in the sheets Kris was lying on. “Fuck, Kris, I gotta-”
“I know,” Kris groaned, feeling the burn and the stretch. Nothing ever prepared him for how it felt at first, before the good feelings sank in. He swallowed and trailed his hand as far down Adam’s back as he could, imagining the constellation of freckles underneath his fingers. It was like Adam had a galaxy mapped out on his skin, just waiting for someone to take the time to learn it. Kris thought that he could, all too easily, be that person.
When Adam started to move, Kris remembered why he loved this so much. The burn gave way to that pleasurably full feeling and his hands moved, trailing over skin and he bit at Adam’s shoulder to silently communicate what he needed Adam to do. He kissed the muscles on Adam’s arms, the tension bringing out the definition as Adam held himself up, thrusting shallowly into Kris before diving deeper, their groans joining in an odd kind of harmony as the headboard hit the wall in time with their rhythmic movements.
Kris met each thrust with one of his own, pushing as Adam did, tilting his hips and gasping, moaning when he felt Adam move inside him. Each sound he made drove Adam on further, each movement of his hands and lips created goosebumps in their wake as he sucked and marked and kissed Adam’s skin, reverent because of his beauty, and nothing else.
Adam nudged Kris’ jaw with his nose and Kris felt those lips against his throat again, marking and claiming and kissing, soothing away any sharp burn from the bites with tongue and tender kisses that followed. He arched up when he felt one hand trail down his chest, fingers teasing his nipples and curling around him. Adam’s arm shook more, holding him up and Kris trailed his hand down his own stomach.
He was fevered, feeling the sweat pooling at the base of Adam’s spine and he dragged his fingers through it, painting invisible pictures that only they would know about and no one else would see. He kissed along Adam’s jaw until Adam lifted his head and brown eyes met blue.
“I’ll do it,” he managed to say, touching Adam’s hand with his own and replacing it around himself. He was close, and he knew Adam was. The thrusts were getting irregular and his pupils were so blown that all Kris could see was a slight ring of blue around the very edge. He kissed Adam again, like a man possessed, wanting Adam to know just how good it felt, as if their vocalisations hadn’t been enough. Adam fucked like he sang, he gave everything and was perfect without knowing it.
Kris moved his hand over himself, his fingers stilling against Adam’s back as he did, just pressing Adam in against him like he could meld them together into one person, one body if he only pushed hard enough. He licked his way into Adam’s mouth, feeling Adam move his weight from his hands to his elbows, cupping Kris’ head awkwardly to draw him deeper into the kiss, tongues duelling and fighting for the dominance that they were both already well aware was taken. But Kris never went down without a fight and as he worked himself closer to his climax, he felt Adam shudder and shake and his hand worked faster.
The kiss broke with a shattered litany of words, neither of them were making any sense and the words became sounds, vowels with no form as they got lost in the ecstasy of each other. Kris broke first, arching up like a bow, taut and ready to fire as his whole body shuddered and spasmed and he twisted his hand in Adam’s hair, pressing the singer’s mouth against his neck. Adam followed after a few more thrusts, erratic and desperate and he bit down over that first mark he’d left, muffling the sounds of his climax in Kris’ neck and against Kris’ skin, breathing heavily and kissing that spot over and over like he was apologising for the rapidly purpling bruise he had left there. Kris held him through the shakes and the shudders, kissing Adam’s shoulder, neck, wherever he could reach.
Kris couldn’t feel his toes, he felt like his orgasm had been ripped out of him and he’d just shot his brains over Adam and his own chest. Kind of gross, but hey. He opened his eyes and saw Adam looking down at him, usually perfect hair in disarray, lips swollen and his cheeks flushed. Adam smiled at him, soft and unguarded, an expression Kris had never seen on anyone’s face and he hoped that his own smile - though it felt kind of goofy and sexed out at the edges - echoed whatever it was that he was feeling aside from a severe case of the warm fuzzies.
Adam slid out of him and grabbed a cloth to clean them both up, gently brushing it over Kris and kissing his way from Kris’ navel back to his mouth, laughing as he did and their lips met again.
“Do you want me to leave now?” Kris asked finally, after they’d kissed more and done something that was dangerously close to cuddling. His head was on Adam’s chest, one strong arm around his shoulders. Kris’ fingers were tracing over Adam’s upper arm, drawing shapes in the freckles that were there. Adam’s hand had been idly turning in circles over Kris’ back. It went still with the question.
Kris tipped his head up to look at Adam, trying to get a read on that reaction.
“Do you want to leave?” Adam asked, tone carefully even, like he didn’t want to give anything away. The ramrod way in which he had gone still was telling enough, though.
“Not really, no,” Kris admitted, settling against Adam’s chest again and kissing the skin underneath his mouth. “I’m good as is.”
Adam’s hand didn’t start moving again for a few long seconds, but when it did, it was relaxed and maybe even a little possessive. “Then don’t,” he mumbled, and Kris felt a kiss be pressed to the top of his head.
There was silence, that comfortable silence that they’d only ever experienced over the telephone, again and it was broken eventually by Adam’s soft admission of, “I like you. You’re different to everyone else.”
Kris just smiled against Adam’s chest and lifted one shoulder. “I like you too. I’m not sure why you’re telling me, though.”
He was rewarded with a flick to his ear. “Ass, I’m just saying, I don’t- I mean, I just- I like you. And I definitely don’t want you doing that with anyone else.” His tone turned a little teasing, “You have the cutest sex faces.”
Kris smacked Adam’s stomach lightly and the singer laughed at Kris’ indignation. “You do!”
“Keep that up and me and my cute sex faces’ll be going off to find someone else to share them with,” Kris teased and Adam made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a growl, rolling them over so that he was once again on top of Kris. “Guess you’ll have to convince me to stay.” He was only teasing and they both knew it, the boyish grin that spread across Adam’s lips as he leaned down to kiss Kris again confirmed it.
And as Kris found himself getting lost in Adam (again), he wondered if Adam had just unofficially made Kris his boyfriend.
Onto Part 7!
Fandom: AI8 RPS
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sequel to Behind the Mask V. Where Brad is not a bellhop, Charles is not helpful and Kris and Adam... well, they are insatiable.
Three days and Kris was quite sure that Adam had taken it upon himself to text every thought that went through his head Kris’ way. Kris guessed it was Adam’s way of reassuring Kris that he meant more than just a blowjob in a dressing room and a few really incredible kisses.
Word Count: 7275
A/N: Part 6 of this epic ‘verse! Kris and Adam kind of ran away with me here! Enjoy this installment, feedback is love <3
It had been three days, three long days. Adam had come back to the dressing room after meeting and greeting and they had kissed some more, Kris had dropped to his knees and found out that Adam was loud when he was being given head, and when Adam proved that his hands were just as talented as the rest of him, Kris had seen stars when he came. Kris could still remember the way that Adam’s lips felt against his, biting and sucking and leaving marks on Kris’ body that were only just starting to fade. He still had a thrill whenever he ran his fingers over his collarbone.
They hadn’t had sex. Kris refrained from mentally referring to the action as ‘making love’ because that was what you did with boyfriends, not random superstars that came out of nowhere and fucked with your mind and then disappeared. Not that Adam had actually disappeared, Kris’ cell was inundated with texts, mundane things from Eggs n bacon 4 brekfast. Dont they know I’m watching my weight? to Saw these shoes. had to have them. what do you think? Three days and Kris was quite sure that Adam had taken it upon himself to text every thought that went through his head Kris’ way. Kris guessed it was Adam’s way of reassuring Kris that he meant more than just a blowjob in a dressing room and a few really incredible kisses (it definitely meant more to Kris; he’d never gotten onto his knees for a guy before).
“You know, it’s kind of sickening,” Charles said through a mouthful of popcorn. They were watching a movie (Kris didn’t know which one and he didn’t really care because Adam was texting him every five minutes with something new and inane and that was far more interesting than any movie could ever be). “You and him.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Kris said, firing a text back and looking up at his best friend. “You’re just pissed because most of his friends are guys and therefore you can’t get hooked up with a hot girl by proxy.”
“That fact aside,” Charles waved a hand dismissively and shoved another fistful of popcorn into his mouth. Kris wondered how Charles ever got laid if he acted like that around women. “And the fact that you never seem to want to actually make a go of being famous. You could totally do it, all the singer-songwriter kind of dorky artists are in at the moment. Look at Jason Castro and Jason Mraz.”
“Their names both start with ‘jason’, Charles,” Kris said as if that was the only reason Kris wasn’t famous yet, “I’m ‘Kris’. I’m breaking the trend by my parents calling me ‘Kristopher’.”
“That’s not an excuse, you’re just being pathetic and scared and a huge pussy and that’s not an attractive look on guys.”
“And you’d know that... how?” Kris asked, not hearing Charles’ reply because Adam texted him again and Kris’ senses honed in on the small screen of his crappy little phone. He wished he had a better one. If he did, then he wouldn’t feel quite so much like a small boy in a huge city. He texted back, something about eyeliner and leather.
“...and Kris wears panties and likes cock.”
Kris had been caught out not listening, but he’d been friends with Charles for long enough that it didn’t phase him, “You got half of that right,” he said with a half smirk in Charles’ direction.
Charles coughed on his popcorn. He wasn’t expecting Kris to be unflustered. He didn’t like it when Kris was unflustered. “Which half?”
“You’ll just have to guess.” Kris said enigmatically and got to his feet. He stretched his arms above his head, feeling something in his lower spine pop in a very satisfying way. He groaned as it released and the tension across his lower back lessened.
Charles shook his head, “I don’t like this new you. I preferred it when I was the smart ass.”
Kris just laughed and looked at his phone again. There was another message from Adam.
Adam: Meet me @ my hotel in 30? U no where it is. Booked under a different name, can u guess who? ;)
What did it say about Kris that he stuffed his feet into his sneakers and had his keys in his pocket before he realised that Charles was still sat on the couch, frozen in position and looking rather quizzically at his best friend.
“Where are you going?” he asked before catching himself and dropping his popcorn back into the bowl. “Never mind, I take it back. Glambert’s calling you forth.”
Kris snorted. “I’ll be back later. Or tomorrow... I don’t know. I’ll let you know?”
Charles just frowned. “I know that you can’t explain your sudden and undeniable attraction and compulsion to the Glambulge, but this isn’t you. You don’t do this. Random hookups with guys that aren’t gonna commit to you isn’t... it’s not you, Kris. And your momma would kill us both if LA compromised who you are.”
Kris just sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “I know. It’s just- this thing with Adam - he has a name, you know - is different. He’s different.”
“How do you know he doesn’t treat all of his random fucks like this? Like they’re princes and then when he gets bored just shoves them aside? I don’t wanna see you getting hurt, man, and as tough as I am, his guards look tougher and I couldn’t punch him out for breaking your little heart.”
Kris wrinkled his nose and tugged his jacket on, wallet and keys slipping into his pocket. “He won’t,” he said confidently, and he didn’t know how he knew, he just did. He also hated that a tiny part of his mind, the cynical part that had appeared since he got to LA and found out that life wasn’t as sparkly as everyone made it seem, snatched Charles’ words and filed them away for future reference. “And if that does ever happen, you can be the first person to say ‘I told you so’, okay?”
“Fine,” Charles said, trying to look pleased with that but they both knew it wasn’t true. Charles had taken it upon himself to try and protect Kris, after the break up with Katy, he had been the only person that had gone ‘well, now the whole world can want you when you’re famous’ at the revelation of Kris’ bisexuality. He was cool like that. Kris loved him dearly, but not in a gay way. “Go and have fun. I won’t wait up for you. Just think of me here, all alone without a hot woman whilst you’re having crazy gay sex.”
Kris laughed and pulled open the front door. “Go out and find a hot woman, then, and as much as I love you, your face in my head during sex would probably kill the mood.”
Popcorn was thrown in his direction but it fell woefully short. “You better clean that up,” Kris said as he stepped out of the apartment and pulled the door shut behind him. He laughed softly to himself and shook his head before he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. He hadn’t even checked what he looked like before leaving the house. He regretted that, but if he went back in, he’d never stop hearing jokes about cold feet and blue balls.
It was a simple enough decision; go to the hotel where Adam was staying. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a house in LA; Kris had heard all about it, but for some reason Adam wasn’t living there at the moment. It was entirely possible it was being fumigated for a bug infestation, or there was an ex that refused to move out, or it was being redecorated. Kris didn’t want to hazard a guess as to why a rock star wouldn’t be living in his own house. He supposed rock stars were weird that way. Adam was certainly not someone that could be classified as ‘ordinary’, so living in a hotel probably made perfect sense to him.
Flagging down a cab, Kris climbed in and was silent on the whole way to the hotel, only thanking the driver when he got out and paid. His palms were a little sweaty by that point, feeling nervous because what if he did look awful? What if he looked like crap and Adam had just met some pretty boy and Kris would pale in comparison? Or what if Adam decided that their phone conversations were enough and that it was nice to have someone to talk to but not someone to be seen with? That would suck, but then Kris wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to be outed to the world as Adam Lambert’s boyfriend.
He caught his thoughts before they ran away with him any more than they already had. He was being really presumptuous in assuming that Adam would want to be his boyfriend anyway. Adam probably had people flinging themselves at him on a regular basis. He didn’t need Kris to make him feel validated, but he still kept talking to him. That made Kris feel at least a little special. A little.
“There you are!” a voice exclaimed as Kris stepped into the lobby. He was accosted by a man who wasn’t much taller than him and had incredible cheekbones and brown eyes. He was dressed in something approaching a bellhop’s uniform if a bellhop wore a red button down that showed off their stomachs and if they were allowed to have their trousers painted on. The hat sat at a jaunty angle on top of his head. Kris blinked stupidly a couple of times. “He told me to meet you here because you’d go up to the front desk and ask to see him like an idiot and then you’d get swamped by the paps.”
“Uh...” Kris managed articulately and the man who had apparently been sent by Adam just flapped his hands and draped an arm over Kris’ shoulders.
“I’m Brad.” the not-bellhop announced as he steered Kris towards the front desk. “And you’re Kris. He told me to look out for the little guy in plaid.”
Kris wondered if he should be offended at that description. He must have looked that way because Brad cut in quickly, correcting himself. “Well, no, not in so many words. He said something else entirely, and then added that you might be in plaid. You don’t disappoint.”
He tutted, clicking his tongue behind his teeth. “Honey, do you have any clothes that fit you properly?” Kris jumped when he felt a hand against his lower back that then plucked at the waistband of his jeans. They were a little baggy, but Kris liked that. Tight clothes made him feel like he might suffocate.
“These fit me fine.”
“If you were a size bigger. You’ve probably got an amazing body hidden underneath all those layers. I’ll take you shopping.” Brad looked positively gleeful at the prospect and Kris wondered if he’d been involved in an accident and this was purgatory because he was sure he was supposed to be meeting Adam, not Adam’s friend Brad the not-bellhop who wanted to take him shopping.
“I like my clothes to be comfortable,” Kris said and obviously that was the wrong thing to say.
“Seriously, if you’re going to be around longer, you need to... change it up a little.” Brad’s hand slid underneath Kris’ jacket and he jumped again. “Relax, I’m not gonna do anything inappropriate here. The elevator, on the other hand...” he winked and Kris hated that he couldn’t tell if Brad was joking or not.
Whatever else he might have said was lost because Brad leaned against the front desk. “Mr Bell,” the receptionist said resignedly, “we’ve asked you before not to dress like that.”
Brad just grinned at her, infuriating and charming and she fought a smile herself.
“We’re here to see Kristopher Allen,” he said without missing a beat. He glanced back at Kris and grinned again - evilly this time - at the confusion on Kris’ face.
“Oh yeah, honey, you’re a keeper.” It was almost like he’d decided it as he tugged on Kris’ arm and lead him away, room key dangling from one finger. How novel, Kris managed to think absently, that the hotel still had keys and not cards.
Once they were out of earshot of the receptionist and anyone else that might overhear (in the elevator that Kris wasn’t entirely sure Brad wouldn’t stop and try and undress him because he did look like Kris’ clothes were offending him personally), Kris said, “But I’m Kris Allen.”
“I know that, and Adam knows that. But he likes pseudonyms. Don’t ask me. It’s a rock star thing.” Brad looked bored and checked his fingernails as the elevator moved. “Last month he was Ringo Starr. Before that Reg Dwight. He likes to change it up a little. This is the first time he’s used someone who isn’t famous.”
Kris lifted an eyebrow. “So I should feel... what, honoured?”
“No, honey, you should feel fucking spectacular.” Brad corrected, pushing the key into Kris’ hand. “And don’t screw it up.”
“Screw what up?” Kris asked as the doors opened. Brad just lifted one shoulder.
“If you have to ask...” he started, pressing a kiss to the corner of Kris’ cheek, “then I’m not telling. Now shoo. I have a party to get to and you’re making me more than fashionably late.”
He gave Kris a friendly shove and wiggled his fingers in a parting wave as the doors closed with a ping and Kris was left standing in the hallway feeling ruffled and underdressed and confused as all hell. He swallowed and looked at the key in his hand.
The fob was engraved with the number 33. There were only two doors on the floor, one at either side of the hall and Kris wondered just how big the rooms inside were. Probably larger than his whole apartment. He wouldn’t be surprised, LA was kind of unbalanced like that. He stood outside the elevator stupidly for a moment before he decided to stop being an idiot. He gathered his bravado. Adam had asked to meet him there. With that in mind, he squared his shoulders and, badly dressed according to the not-bellhop Brad, strode towards the door on his left. It was number 32. Of course. He laughed softly at himself before he turned on his heel and headed towards the other door. The corridor seemed to elongate as he approached the door. It hadn’t been that long to walk to the other end. Stupid uneven hotels.
When he got to the door there was a note stuck to it. Adam’s handwriting was tidier than Kris expected it to be, but then in Kris’ imagination, everyone’s handwriting was supposed to bethe same kind of illegible chicken-scratch that his was.
Go in, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be along as soon as I’ve finished this press thing. There’s beer in the fridge. Try not to get too drunk, ok?
See you soon! :)
-A
Kris pulled the note off the door and used the key to get into the room. He was right; it was huge. Huge didn’t even cover how big the room was, actually. It was immense. Kris’ whole apartment probably could have fitted twice into the space at least, and he hadn’t even seen the bedroom or the bathroom yet. He rubbed the back of his neck and heard the door slide shut behind him as he moved towards the kitchenette. It was tidy, freshly cleaned it looked like, and smelt a little like apple disinfectant.
Leaving the key and the note on the side, Kris took a beer out of the fridge (and the six pack had another note on with a smiley face and a reminder not to get drunk but that they all had to be drunk at some point because Adam did not drink light beer).
Perching on the counter felt wrong, but then so did sitting on the couch. He tried both. Kris decided that he was going to explore and turned the TV on to have some kind of background noise as he did so. He didn’t touch any drawers or cupboards; his momma had always told him it was okay to go snooping as long as you didn’t touch anything. Drawers weren’t to be opened, you could just snoop at the things on display. His momma never would have made a very good detective.
It didn’t help that he was kind of nervous. Uncomfortable. He was alone in Adam’s hotel room and he had no idea of what to expect when Adam arrived. Had he just turned into a booty-call? Was that what this was? Kris should have been more bothered than he was at the idea of that. Sex with Adam wasn’t something he could ever turn down. Anyone who did would be mental, but Kris wasn’t sure he liked the idea of Adam having a boyfriend and someone he could use as a booty-call. Kris was no cheap ‘ho.
There was a guitar in the corner of the bedroom and Kris crossed over to it and picked it up. It was new, barely used. He could tell because of the way that it felt underneath his palm, smooth and unloved. No wear in the varnish on the neck from years of careful use, no fingerprints on the keys used to tune it. He strummed it once, carefully, and winced at the sound it made. It needed tuning, badly.
He couldn’t hear anyone else in the room, and the TV was still happily talking to itself, so Kris took the guitar out of the bedroom and perched on the edge of table near the wall, one leg crossed over the other and feet hanging in the air as he cradled the guitar in his hands, fingers strumming and head tilted as he tuned it. His eyes were half closed, lip between his teeth as he focused. Tuning by ear was hard, and it had taken him a long time to learn how to do it, but he had done and he was proud of himself for having done so.
Of course, like any addict (because music is a drug and anyone who told you otherwise is a liar), one hit wasn’t enough and once the guitar was tuned, Kris sat for a moment just strumming the open strings and enjoying the clean sound that rang out through the apartment, even over the sound of the television. When his fingers formed into the shape of an E chord he knew he was lost. He shouldn’t be playing on Adam’s instrument, but he couldn’t help himself. He was drawn to the guitar like it was a magnet and usually he just ran with it. It was easier that way.
He ran through the songs he’d sang the other night in the bar, the short set-list that didn’t go down as well as he’d hoped, but he wasn’t a genius and he wasn’t famous, so he couldn’t be blamed for that. That and he was pretty sure people weren’t ready for an acoustic, reworked version of Heartless.
He was halfway through one of his own songs, eyes closed and fingers moving on the guitar without having to think about what they were doing when he heard a soft holy shit and his fingers slipped on the frets. The guitar made a discordant noise, unhappy with Kris’ movements and his voice died in his throat. Adam was standing there, just staring at him. He was wearing some ridiculous outfit (Kris had always been quite vocal about the things Adam chose to wear on stage, ranging from the ridiculous to the flamboyantly gay - the latter of which just made Adam laugh down the phone and say ”Honey? How could you think otherwise?”) and he’d caught Kris singing. The platform boots made Adam even taller and Kris slid off the table, holding the guitar out like a peace offering. Adam was just staring. Why was Adam staring?
Kris’ eyes dropped to the floor and he shuffled his feet, feeling his cheeks warming. Embarrassment mixed with mortification at having been seen and those emotions were struggling with an increasing sense of arousal because there was something intense about being looked at so openly by Adam.
“Sorry, I- it just was there and I can’t help it. It’s like my hands have minds of their own, you know?” he babbled, taking half a step back with the intention of putting the guitar down, or giving it back to Adam, but those platforms - that were glittery, God, how did Adam do that? - came closer until they were touching the toes of Kris’ non-glittery, beat up old converse.
Adam’s hand covered Kris’ around the neck of the guitar and he lifted it until it could be rested down on the table. Once sure it was going to be safe, Adam encouraged Kris to let it go.
“Sorry,” Kris said again and Adam just shook his head. His hands clasped around Kris’ head and he pulled him up and into a kiss, backing the smaller man towards the wall. Kris’ arms wrapped around Adam’s neck and he stood on his very tip-toes because Adam was tall anyway, but with those boots on Kris didn’t stand a chance, and he groaned into Adams’ mouth when his back hit the wall.
It was awkward, Adam’s hands moved from his face to his hips, and one fell away, curses spilled out against his neck as Adam’s mouth rested there and then suddenly, two thuds later, Adam was shorter, more on Kris’ level and they were kissing again. A thigh slid between Kris’ and pushed up and Kris rocked into it, biting at Adam’s lower lip and just reacting. How could he not? Adam hadn’t said anything and Kris was not someone who did this normally, but Adam made him do a lot of things that he wouldn’t normally do and Kris couldn’t bring himself to care all that much. Whilst one of his hands went into Adam’s hair, tugging on the strands to punctuate each desperate, messy kiss, his other one slid down into the back pocket of the tight, black trousers Adam was wearing. He squeezed once and Adam’s hips rocked forward into his.
“Adam,” he panted, breath catching and voice shaking as his hips rolled unthinkingly towards Adam’s again, the friction wanting to steal his thoughts away, Adam’s mouth trying to do just that, “we-”
“Bedroom,” Adam merely growled, hands moving again, restlessly like Kris’ body was braille and he was trying to speed read it. Cool fingertips slid underneath Kris’ shirt and his stomach twitched, reluctantly pulling his arms away from Adam so that his t-shirt could be ripped off once his shirt had been shoved off his shoulders and left to puddle in a disappointed pile on the floor. The forgotten pile of plaid that got stood on when they moved towards the bedroom. It wasn’t too far, Kris had been shoved up against the wall next to it, after all.
“Sure,” Kris managed, feeling a little self-conscious now that he was shirtless and Adam was still fully clothed, but like he’d read Kris’ mind, Adam shrugged out of his jacket and yanked his own shirt off, dropping to the floor (and Kris knew, somehow, that Adam would freak out about that later, that shirt probably cost more than Kris’ first car). Hands were on his belt and Kris didn’t realise that they were his until he felt Adam’s eyes on him again, a slight smirk curving those lips.
Adam’s hands reached out, covering Kris’ and taking them off his belt. “So I had planned to talk to you,” he said, voice a little rough as he walked Kris back towards the bed. Somehow, Kris managed to toe off his sneakers because getting your trousers caught in your shoes when you were trying to get them off was not sexy. “Ask you about your day and all that.” He punctuated his sentence with another kiss, catching Kris’ wrist when he reached up to cup Adam’s cheek.
Kris’ lips pulled into a pout that Adam kissed again. Talking was going to be difficult if Adam kept kissing him. Not that Kris minded; he wasn’t insane. “So why didn’t you?” he asked, leaning forward because Adam was fiddling with his belt and tugging it off. He caught Adam’s earlobe between his teeth and sucked it into his mouth, curling his tongue over the lower edge.
Adam’s breath caught and his hands stilled for a second, flexing against Kris’ hips. Kris filed that reaction away for a later date. His belt was snapped away and tossed to the side as a reaction to the bite and Adam’s hands were on his jeans, undoing them with deft fingers.
“Because you fucked up the plan,” Adam breathed against Kris’ ear. He tipped his head to give Adam access to his neck, his body once again reacting without his head’s permission. He gasped when he felt Adam’s hand slide into his open jeans, the cool metal of his rings a contrast to the wamth of Adam’s hand. His hips twitched once into the touch. He felt lips over his pulse, the flicker of a tongue. “Do you know you look like you’re coming when you sing?”
That question startled a laugh out of Kris. “No?” he answered, sounding more like he was asking if that was the right answer. His knees felt weak when Adam’s hand moved, curling and twisting and trying to take Kris apart piece by piece. He didn’t want to keep standing, orgasms robbed him of his ability to do anything fun with his legs.
“God, your voice,” Adam continued, nosing his way down Kris’ neck and pressing little kisses there. His hand moved in an agonsingly slow way, driving Kris crazy, his hips moving to try and counteract the slow touch, speed it up, give him more. “It’s incredible, so raw and real.” Lips touched the join of Kris’ shoulder and neck and he let out a shaky breath. Adam’s thumb brushed over the sensitive bundle of nerves and Kris’ surprised gasp drew a chuckle from the singer.
Adam sucked a mark at that same spot, Kris’ shoulder hitching up a little and his blood rushing hot and cold all at once at the prospect of being marked as Adam’s. No one would see it, Kris didn’t make a habit of walking around topless but he would know it was there and that was enough. His jeans had been moved off his hips now, succumbing to gravity’s pull and lay pooled around his ankles along with the last of Kris’ dignity. Adam stopped peppering kisses along Kris’ collarbone to glance down. He still had his own trousers on, but Kris’ pleasure was more important, and with a wicked smirk on his lips, he sunk to his knees in one smooth movement, hand still curled around Kris’ base as his mouth closed over the head.
Kris groaned, low and broken as his stomach twitched and tensed, trying not to give in to his body’s urge to move into the warm, wet heat that had just surrounded him. Sparks went off in his brain as Adam started to move, tongue curling and teasing, looking up at Kris through smoke-rimmed eyes, the grey-blue standing out like torchlight in the dark, smirking up at him as he sucked and teased.
He twisted his fingers in Adam’s hair, just holding and not forcing, whilst the other hand twisted in his own hair, tighter than necessary to stop him from just falling apart completely. It had only been three days since they’d been together and it had been incredible, but nothing compared to this. “Ad-ah!-am,” he tried, but Adam’s hand sliding down to tease the inside of his thighs stopped his words again. The pressure inside him was beginning to build, starting as a low heat in his stomach, moving to collect at the base of his spine. It wasn’t long before Adam was pulling off with a wet pop and Kris was confused as to why he’d stopped.
“You can move, you know,” Adam said, fingers trailing over Kris. “I want you do.”
Before he could pull enough higher-brain functions together to answer, Adam was sliding back onto him again, sinful lips stretched around Kris as the hands that had previously been holding Kris still encouraged him to move. Ever conscientious, though, Kris didn’t lose himself until the very end when his body just moved on autopilot and his brain was sparking. He squeezed his eyes closed and gripped at Adam’s hair, the only warning he was able to give before he came, the pressure unbearable as he let out some unintelligible babble, Adam’s name in there somewhere. He couldn’t look down even though he wanted to, his head had tipped backwards and somewhere in his mind the hallelujah chorus was going off because there was no feeling in the world that would beat that one. He was sure of it.
He came back to his senses to feel Adam kissing his way up his stomach and chest. A kiss was pressed to his chin and Kris moved to catch Adam’s mouth, tasting himself on the edge of Adam’s tongue. His hands returned to Adam’s shoulders, holding himself up as one arm went around his back.
“I wish I had a camera for that moment,” Adam muttered against Kris’ mouth. Kris just smiled and bit at Adam’s lower lip, brain still not functioning well enough to actually form words. Instead, his hand trailed down Adam’s bare chest, fingers stopping briefly at his collarbone until Kris’ mouth joined it, tracing over the freckles that were usually hidden by shirts and clothing and make up. Kris’ hand trailed lower, resting at the band of Adam’s trousers and would have undone them had Adam not caught him.
Kris looked up again, kissing the curve of Adam’s jaw, nose pressed against the point just underneath his ear where he could smell Adam as well as the cologne and the make up.
“I want to-” Adam breathed out a soft sigh as Kris just about nuzzled that spot, pressing a kiss there. “Can I?”
“Yeah,” Kris answered the unspoken question and swallowed past his nerves. It was a big step, and one he never would do on a booty call like this because that was cheap and low but it was Adam and Kris just couldn’t explain the way that Adam made him feel and the reactions that Adam drew out in him. He just wanted everything, all of it all at once.
The smile that broke out over Adam’s face made Kris’ heart flutter like a bird in a cage. It warmed Kris and he wanted to remember that look. He didn’t get a lot of time to commit it to memory though because the winning, I-can’t-believe-you-said-yes smile was replaced with a dark-eyed expression of want. Adam’s hands slid over Kris’ arms and to his hips. “Get on the bed?” he asked, pressing another kiss to Kris’ lips before he was undoing his own pants and stepping out of them.
Kris sat down on the edge of the bed and couldn’t help noticing that Adam had gone commando. It shot an uncontrollable surge of want through him. He wet his lower lip and shifted a little more, tugging off his socks because he remembered that sex should never happen with socks on. That was unsexy too, and seeing Kris do that made Adam laugh.
“You know, most people would be freaking out about being here,” Adam commented off-handedly as he grabbed a condom and a tube of KY from the drawer beside the bed. Kris snorted and reached out for Adam, shifting up onto the pillows.
“Most people aren’t me,” he answered, pulling Adam into another kiss meaning that the singer ended up just about on top of him. He felt more than heard the top of the KY come off as Adam shifted above him without even breaking the kiss.
“No,” he mumbled against Kris’ mouth and Kris heard the tube be squeezed and felt the cool touch of Adam’s lube-slick fingers against his thigh, “they’re really not.”
There was a tone in Adam’s voice that, if Kris couldn’t feel Adam’s fingers slipping further back and pressing against him, he would have wanted to analyse, as it was, he felt the first touch of Adam’s finger pressing against him and the tip just sliding inside and he planted his feet on the mattress and lifted his hips, giving Adam that little more access.
They were kissing again as Adam prepared him, one finger became two, scissoring and moving and Kris got more and more frustrated with the slow pace that Adam had going on. He was moving and touching like he was trying to remember everything about this. His other hand trailed over Kris’ chest, touching and kissing marks and scars that chronicled the story of Kris’ life on his skin. It looked almost like Adam was categorising them, learning about them so he could ask about them later on.
“I’m ready,” Kris grunted, pressing down onto Adam’s fingers, working himself open as much as Adam was. “Come on, I’m good to go.”
Adam snorted and pressed a kiss to Kris’ nipple, biting at it gently. “Patience is a virtue,” he said, adding a second later as he soothed away any pain that might have come from the bite with a kiss, “besides, I don’t want to hurt you.”
There was that tone again, but Adam’s fingers crooked and hit that spot that made Kris’ breath catch and his hips twitch. Kris didn’t have time to think on tones or anything like that. He tipped his head back and pressed it against the pillow and Adam smiled.
“Now you’re ready,” he said and Kris could have smacked him for sounding so self satisfied. His fingers slid out of Kris and he bit his lip to stifle the disappointed sound that tried to escape him. He knew what was coming next and he took a few breaths to just keep it together. He heard the sound of foil tearing and Adam biting out a curse as he slid the condom onto himself and lubed up. Kris just wriggled and lifted his head from where it was buried in the pillows to look at Adam. He was gorgeous. Really gorgeous.
“I’m way past ready, rock star,” Kris teased, lifting his hips and shifting as Adam moved closer and lined himself up. Their lips met again as Adam pushed gently and slowly into Kris, the fine tremble in his arms giving away that Adam was taking his time for Kris, and that it was killing him to take it so slow. “Just do it,” Kris murmured against Adam’s ear as his hand slid up one trembling arm to grip Adam’s shoulder. His nails left little half-moon indents in the pale skin as Adam sank home with a low groan. He pressed his face against Kris’ collarbone, breath warm against Kris’ sensitive skin.
“Fuck,” he breathed, voice tight and strained as Kris lifted a leg to hook it over Adam’s hip. He moved slightly and Adam groaned again, hands fisting in the sheets Kris was lying on. “Fuck, Kris, I gotta-”
“I know,” Kris groaned, feeling the burn and the stretch. Nothing ever prepared him for how it felt at first, before the good feelings sank in. He swallowed and trailed his hand as far down Adam’s back as he could, imagining the constellation of freckles underneath his fingers. It was like Adam had a galaxy mapped out on his skin, just waiting for someone to take the time to learn it. Kris thought that he could, all too easily, be that person.
When Adam started to move, Kris remembered why he loved this so much. The burn gave way to that pleasurably full feeling and his hands moved, trailing over skin and he bit at Adam’s shoulder to silently communicate what he needed Adam to do. He kissed the muscles on Adam’s arms, the tension bringing out the definition as Adam held himself up, thrusting shallowly into Kris before diving deeper, their groans joining in an odd kind of harmony as the headboard hit the wall in time with their rhythmic movements.
Kris met each thrust with one of his own, pushing as Adam did, tilting his hips and gasping, moaning when he felt Adam move inside him. Each sound he made drove Adam on further, each movement of his hands and lips created goosebumps in their wake as he sucked and marked and kissed Adam’s skin, reverent because of his beauty, and nothing else.
Adam nudged Kris’ jaw with his nose and Kris felt those lips against his throat again, marking and claiming and kissing, soothing away any sharp burn from the bites with tongue and tender kisses that followed. He arched up when he felt one hand trail down his chest, fingers teasing his nipples and curling around him. Adam’s arm shook more, holding him up and Kris trailed his hand down his own stomach.
He was fevered, feeling the sweat pooling at the base of Adam’s spine and he dragged his fingers through it, painting invisible pictures that only they would know about and no one else would see. He kissed along Adam’s jaw until Adam lifted his head and brown eyes met blue.
“I’ll do it,” he managed to say, touching Adam’s hand with his own and replacing it around himself. He was close, and he knew Adam was. The thrusts were getting irregular and his pupils were so blown that all Kris could see was a slight ring of blue around the very edge. He kissed Adam again, like a man possessed, wanting Adam to know just how good it felt, as if their vocalisations hadn’t been enough. Adam fucked like he sang, he gave everything and was perfect without knowing it.
Kris moved his hand over himself, his fingers stilling against Adam’s back as he did, just pressing Adam in against him like he could meld them together into one person, one body if he only pushed hard enough. He licked his way into Adam’s mouth, feeling Adam move his weight from his hands to his elbows, cupping Kris’ head awkwardly to draw him deeper into the kiss, tongues duelling and fighting for the dominance that they were both already well aware was taken. But Kris never went down without a fight and as he worked himself closer to his climax, he felt Adam shudder and shake and his hand worked faster.
The kiss broke with a shattered litany of words, neither of them were making any sense and the words became sounds, vowels with no form as they got lost in the ecstasy of each other. Kris broke first, arching up like a bow, taut and ready to fire as his whole body shuddered and spasmed and he twisted his hand in Adam’s hair, pressing the singer’s mouth against his neck. Adam followed after a few more thrusts, erratic and desperate and he bit down over that first mark he’d left, muffling the sounds of his climax in Kris’ neck and against Kris’ skin, breathing heavily and kissing that spot over and over like he was apologising for the rapidly purpling bruise he had left there. Kris held him through the shakes and the shudders, kissing Adam’s shoulder, neck, wherever he could reach.
Kris couldn’t feel his toes, he felt like his orgasm had been ripped out of him and he’d just shot his brains over Adam and his own chest. Kind of gross, but hey. He opened his eyes and saw Adam looking down at him, usually perfect hair in disarray, lips swollen and his cheeks flushed. Adam smiled at him, soft and unguarded, an expression Kris had never seen on anyone’s face and he hoped that his own smile - though it felt kind of goofy and sexed out at the edges - echoed whatever it was that he was feeling aside from a severe case of the warm fuzzies.
Adam slid out of him and grabbed a cloth to clean them both up, gently brushing it over Kris and kissing his way from Kris’ navel back to his mouth, laughing as he did and their lips met again.
“Do you want me to leave now?” Kris asked finally, after they’d kissed more and done something that was dangerously close to cuddling. His head was on Adam’s chest, one strong arm around his shoulders. Kris’ fingers were tracing over Adam’s upper arm, drawing shapes in the freckles that were there. Adam’s hand had been idly turning in circles over Kris’ back. It went still with the question.
Kris tipped his head up to look at Adam, trying to get a read on that reaction.
“Do you want to leave?” Adam asked, tone carefully even, like he didn’t want to give anything away. The ramrod way in which he had gone still was telling enough, though.
“Not really, no,” Kris admitted, settling against Adam’s chest again and kissing the skin underneath his mouth. “I’m good as is.”
Adam’s hand didn’t start moving again for a few long seconds, but when it did, it was relaxed and maybe even a little possessive. “Then don’t,” he mumbled, and Kris felt a kiss be pressed to the top of his head.
There was silence, that comfortable silence that they’d only ever experienced over the telephone, again and it was broken eventually by Adam’s soft admission of, “I like you. You’re different to everyone else.”
Kris just smiled against Adam’s chest and lifted one shoulder. “I like you too. I’m not sure why you’re telling me, though.”
He was rewarded with a flick to his ear. “Ass, I’m just saying, I don’t- I mean, I just- I like you. And I definitely don’t want you doing that with anyone else.” His tone turned a little teasing, “You have the cutest sex faces.”
Kris smacked Adam’s stomach lightly and the singer laughed at Kris’ indignation. “You do!”
“Keep that up and me and my cute sex faces’ll be going off to find someone else to share them with,” Kris teased and Adam made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a growl, rolling them over so that he was once again on top of Kris. “Guess you’ll have to convince me to stay.” He was only teasing and they both knew it, the boyish grin that spread across Adam’s lips as he leaned down to kiss Kris again confirmed it.
And as Kris found himself getting lost in Adam (again), he wondered if Adam had just unofficially made Kris his boyfriend.
Onto Part 7!