A Series of Movements, Part 4: Breathing Naturally
Title: A Series of Movements, Part 4: Breathing Naturally
Rating: PG
Pairing: Adam/Kris.
Disclaimer: Not mine. I do not know, or own these people. No disrespect or offense intended.
Comments are always wonderful.
Adam's breathing is soft and slow; his head exactly where it was when I fell asleep, his hand on my knee, and there's nothing more beautiful in the world then Adam lying there, eyes closed, vulnerable. I know that I should be feeling bad, because Adam is asleep on my thigh, and I'm loving it; but I don't. I feel the best I have ages.
I place my hand softly on his head, and pick up random locks of his hair, twirling them around my forefinger; letting them only just slip out, then catching them before they fall.
I've trained my eyes very carefully on Adam's face, so I see exactly when he wakes; taking in each precious detail: the way his eyes open very slowly; how he licks his lips before sighing; how his nose scrunches a little; how amazing he looks in this moment; how his freckles are so brilliantly fresh, how I can distinguish every single small fleck; how magical he looks.
"You stayed.”
And even though I don't know if I want it, a feeling of sunshine and happiness and delight and something else flowers inside me.
"Yeah. Didn't want to wake you.”
"Thank you." He lifts his gaze to me; his blue eyes wide and natural, with a little sleep in the corners, and I know that I'm seeing the Adam who isn't fierce, who isn't protected right now; the Adam who is susceptible to anything, who is exposed. He hasn't got his usual armour of eyeliner and leather to cover him; that he's just Adam, not Adam Lambert.
And in a split second, he turns his head, and kisses my knee. Simply and faintly; almost like with no real intent behind it.
And now my knee feels as though it's been set on fire, my heart is beating fast and I don't know what to do.
So my alarm goes off in it's usual awful dissonance.
I look back down at Adam, and he looks back up at me, his expression indecipherable.
One.
Two.
Three.
He bursts out laughing, making me smile uncontrollably.
"Come on. Time to get up. I need to shower; because seriously, I must look heinous.”
I shake my head, because he really doesn't, and he rolls his eyes, saying “Oh, Kristopher.” He shucks the sheets off him, leaning around me; his shoulder brushing mine as he lifts himself up and walks away, vanishing into the bathroom.
I flop back onto the bed, warm from where Adam was lying.
Adam Lambert just kissed my knee.
And fuck, I liked it.
======>
Breakfast is a very blasé event.
I'm eating my usual strawberry jam toast, Adam his soy milk cereal, and Danny is somewhere upstairs, possibly still asleep, but I can't summon any inclination inside me to want to wake him, but I should; as if he's not careful, he's going to end up being late for the limo.
Attempting at breaking the silence that has accumulated, I ask, “Adam, how is that even nice?”
We both stare at his gross-looking bowl of cereal; with it's bland brown colored puffed oats, covered in a small layer of thin soy milk.
"Um, well...it's not. I just can't make anything else, or it fucks up.”
“What about toast or something?”
"I always burn it, and everything else takes too long to cook. This is way easier.”
I look back down at his cereal, then at my toast; wondering if what I'm about to ask next is the smartest. “You wanna swap?”
"Huh?”
“I have yours and you have mine.”
"Really?” The way he sounds so surprised, I imagine nobody has ever offereed to swap breakfast with him before. Maybe I should take that as a sign.
"Totally. I'm all about new experiences.”
He snorts, and glances at my half-eaten toast for two seconds, before saying, “You're on.” He pushes his bowl to me, in his other hand receiving my plate. I grin at his eagerness, and pick up his spoon.
"...eat complete crap, don't I?”
But I'm not registering what he's saying, because I'm holding a spoon in my hand that Adam has put his lips around, the same lips that I was watching before, the lips that are lightly peppered with freckles; and Adam doesn't seem to see how scary thrilling that is.
I scoop up a small amount of the cereal while Adam is still chattering about how good the toast is; and place it in my mouth, in a little version of heaven from Adams spoon.
To then promptly choke awkwardly on it, and only barely swallow the food. Revolting.
Adam has been staring at me with a growing expression of amusement, pity and horror. “It's not that bad.”
"It's worse. What the heck's in here?”
He grins, then says, “I thought I was the drama queen. The soy milk has been way diluted. 'Cause soy milk doesn't really like me, I just have to water it down loads. Sorry, I should have said.”
"Use normal milk, then.”
"Dairy isn't good for the voice.”
"Adam. This is crap. You can't eat like this; it'll give you scurvy.”
"You sound like my mom. It's the best I can do.”
"I doubt that.”
"It's true! Ask anyone. I can't cook for shit.”
"Then don't cook. Eat fruit. Eat yogurt. There are breakfast muffins. Anything is better than that.”
"This is infinitely easier. And you get used to it after a while.” The bite of toast he defiantly takes next completely screams the opposite, and I roll my eyes.
It's at that moment that Danny chooses to enter the kitchen in his pajamas; the whole ensemble rather disturbing, but doing a good job at distracting my mind. “Guys! When's the limo coming?”
I check my phone for the time. “About ten minutes, dude. You're screwed.”
He gives me a panicked glare, “Don't say that!” He runs out of the room again.
I look over at Adam, and he's biting his lip.
“That was way gross.”
I raise my eyebrows.
"Come on. It totally was. All freaking hair -”
"Adam, I just saw it, man. I don't need you to tell me again.”
"Whatever.”
My phone begins to vibrate under my hand, and emit a loud beeping noise. I stare at it, knowing who it is, and not really sure if I want to answer it.
Adam must take my hesitancy of answering my phone as wanting privacy, which I really don't; because the next thing he does is picks up the plate and bowl, sticks them into the dishwasher, and exits the room.
I sigh, knowing that I really do need to answer it.
"Katy. Hey.”
"Hey yourself. How are you?” I can hear the relief in her voice as she talks.
"Fine. It's all a bit weird without Allison, and I guess we're - Adam's feeling it. It's all just real odd.”
The pause after I finsh is too long and I realize what I've done. Shit.
"So how're you?”
"Bored. I never noticed how much I rely on you being with me. I can't wait for you to come home.”
"Yeah, I'll be there in a few days for the visit.”
"I'm really, really - I think everybody in Conway's going to be there.”
Oh god. “Really?”
"Totally. It's going to be really cool. I'm just - I'm really missing you, Kris.”
I run a hand through my hair, knotting it; and I can tell that it's loneliness in Katy's voice, and I really can't do this right now. “Katy - Katy, I have to go now. The limo's here, and I have to go.”
"Oh. I - yeah. Well, I love you, Kris. See you soon.”
I squeeze my eyes shut tight. “I love -" I end the call before I have to say you.
I stare at my wedding ring, the blackness of it maybe just denoting how our marriage is turning out to be.
I love Katy. I really, really do. I always have, from the moment she said hi Kris to me, all dulcet with her perfect voice, her perfect lips curving into a perfect smile, the perfect girl. The perfect emotion.
I love her.
So then why the fuck can't I find the feeling inside me?
Where the hell has it gone for when I really need it?
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