RIBBONS: PART ONE - A LITTLE MORE THAN BEERS AND BROTHERS
RIBBONS
Author: cheapxdate
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Rating: R
Warnings: None? Language, sexuality?
Word Count: 51,021
Part: ONE: A LITTLE MORE THAN BEERS AND BROTHERS
Dinner was uneventful. Kris regaled them with a recap of he and Adam’s afternoon downtown which spurred Mrs. Allen to share stories from Kris’s childhood. Kris repeatedly apologized and complained that Adam wasn’t interested, though in reality, he loved learning about Kris’s life and listened intently to Mrs. Allen‘s every word.. Again, Kris and Adam did the dishes, and after the last glass was dried and returned to its place in the cabinet, they went out into the living room to relax. Or at least, Adam had assumed they would relax; just wind down and watch some TV and bullshit the night away. Kris, however, had other ideas.
“Come on,” Kris insisted, attempting to pull Adam up off the couch by his wrist. “Katy’s spending time with some girl friends in town for the holiday. Let’s go out tonight.”
“Out? I’m sure the Conway nightlife is exquisite, but I think I’ll pass.” Adam resisted, pressing back into the cushions and digging his heels into the floor.
Kris rolled his eyes and let go.
“Don’t knock it. We’ve got a bar.”
“A whole bar?” Adam asked sarcastically, opening his eyes wide in mock surprise.
"Yes. A whole bar. It isn't big or fancy, but it also isn't crowded, teeming with people grabbing and demanding autographs. It's local and even during the holiday weekend you'll be lucky if there's a few old guys in there watching a game."
Adam considered the idea, rubbing his palm against his chin.
He hadn’t gone out in awhile, not at least since he’d broken up with Drake. The L.A. paparazzi had been hot on his tail, eager to catch a shot of him with any random member of the male sex so that they could label them a couple and sell their scandalous photos to the big name magazines. Going out meant pictures and grabbing and touching and scrutiny.
Not to mention, he hadn’t felt much like partying. He was exhausted from the late hours of recording and perpetual jetlag. Despite all efforts to the contrary, he’d become distant with many of his friends and the stock celebrity company had long ago lost its gleam.
And then there were the more subtle reasons that he wasn’t jumping at the opportunity to go out drinking with Kris.
Adam wasn’t really sure what was going on to be honest. There were reactions, unexpected ones, that he was having to Kris and while he’d been ardently ignoring them, there was no denying they existed. What it meant or why it was happening was not yet something he was prepared to evaluate, yet he doubted the addition of alcohol would aid his ignorance. There was also the fact that words slipped from the lips much easier with inebriation and should discussion of the breakup be breached, Adam didn’t trust himself not to spill Kris’s part in the matter. Really, he doubted he would get that drunk, but even the possibility was enough to make him hesitant.
However, saying no to Kris outright was a feat in and of itself. And a drink didn’t sound horrible right about now.
Kris interrupted his thoughts, his words dripping heavily with sarcasm.
"Or we could spend another night here, doing nothing, and you can continue to wallow in self-pity. That sounds like a much better time."
Groaning, Adam stood and playfully shoved Kris by the shoulders. Maybe tonight, after a few drinks, he would come clean. It wouldn’t change anything, but he was really foolish for not being upfront about it from the beginning. It wasn’t a big deal, honestly. Though, he wondered, if that we’re the case, why was he so God-damn nervous about it?
"Fine. We'll go out. But you're buying."
Kris rolled his eyes, but nodded in agreement.
They took Kris’s Fusion, and as they drove across town, Adam remembered the day they’d received their Fords, fondly. It had been the very beginning of the tour, during a beautiful day in the summer. Adam had chosen a Mustang - fast, flashy and loud - while Kris had opted for the Fusion - eco-friendly, reliable and modest. After smiling for the necessary amount of photos and signing autographs they’d gotten in their cars and raced down the highway. They were due to return back for the night’s concert, but instead of heading straight there, they stopped at a roadside diner, talking and laughing over enormous cheeseburgers and vanilla milkshakes. They were almost late that night and received a lot of flak and a stern talking to about responsibilities and reputations, though Adam wouldn’t have changed the afternoon for anything.
It wasn’t until Adam felt the car’s momentum slow and then stop that he realized they had reached their destination. Ducking his head to peer up at the establishment looming outside the front windshield, he cocked a curious eyebrow. It looked old and worn, but loved - a place that would have ‘regulars’ and menu items named after them. The wooden front door was crooked and the windows were slightly tinted, though a dirty yellow light illuminated them from the inside.
“They’ve got beer,” Kris reasoned, sensing his hesitation. He pushed open the driver’s side door and stepped out, and Adam did the same on his side, looking around the mostly empty parking lot dubiously.
“Oh, just come on,” Kris huffed, leading the way up to the front, Adam following a step behind, sulking.
When Kris pushed the door open, allowing Adam to pass by him into the bar first, the first thing Adam noticed was how dark the interior of the building was. The only discernible source of light came from a few mock oil lamps mounted on the walls and the glow from two television screens behind the bar. He glanced around, taking in his surroundings - a few small, round, wooden tables and chairs, an old-fashioned juke box, a dart board hanging on the farthest wall. The bar itself ran the entire length of the place on their left, with various bottles lined up against a long, tempered mirror. There were a few backless barstools, mostly unoccupied, though the handful of people in the place barely gave them a second glance.
Kris led him to a small table in the back corner and sank down into one of the chairs. Adam took the free one and flipped it around so that the back was against the table. He swung his leg over and sat with his arms folded on the back of the chair.
Immediately, a waitress was hovering, smiling expectantly first at Adam and then at Kris before bouncing over, pad in hand.
“Kristopher Allen! It’s been awhile since I saw you in here,” she commented, pushing her hair back off her forehead, though her wide eyes were glued to Adam.
Smiling, Kris nodded.
“Yeah, I’ve been kind of busy.”
“Oh, I know! We still have your autograph hanging behind the bar! I bought three copies of your album!” She beamed proud, her eyes shifting quickly away from Adam, to Kris, then back again.
“That’s awesome. Thank you,” Kris said, ducking his head, and though Adam couldn’t see in the dim lighting, he knew he was blushing.
There was an awkward silence then as Kris fidgeted with the edge of the drink menu and Adam sighed, twisting towards the waitress with his arm extended.
“Adam Lambert.”
She practically squealed as she took his hand and shook it vigorously.
“I know who you are! Oh my God, you‘re even hotter in person!” she screeched, and, out of the corner of his eye, Adam saw Kris stifle a laugh behind his menu.
Gently, Adam pulled his arm back and cleared his throat.
“So, a Sam Adams?”
He looked expectantly at Kris who added, “two.”
“Oh! Right!” the waitress started, bringing a hand to her cheek. “Right away!” She paused a moment longer, taking them both in, then spun on her heels and all but skipped away from the table.
“Smooth, Allen,” Adam laughed, clicking his nails against the table.
“What?” Kris had put the small, rectangular menu down and was now leaning forward with his chin in his hands. “I promised you minimal attention.”
“Yeah, minimal attention. I’m not invisible!”
Kris shrugged and grinned and seconds later the waitress returned with their drinks and a stack of cocktail napkins.
“Anything else?” she purred, though her fingers fidgeted nervously with the collar of her black polo. “Something to eat?”
Kris shook his head and Adam said sweetly, “No, I think we’re good. Thank you,” and she scurried away, back off towards the kitchen.
“I’ll never get used to it,” Kris remarked, taking a swig from the condensation covered bottle in front of him. “Never.”
“Get used to what?”
“The fame. I mean, I’m getting used to the schedule and the lack of sleep and the jet setting, but I’ll never get used to people acting like I’m someone special.”
Adam tilted his head and watched Kris take another sip of beer.
“But you are someone special.”
Kris rolled his eyes and shrugged.
“No, I’m just lucky. I get to make music for a living.”
There were many reasons Kris was special and the fact that he could now make music a career wasn’t at the top of the list. In Adam’s mind, it didn’t even crack the top three. He was an amazing person, both generous and kind. He was selfless and genuine and honest. He was a lot of things that Adam wasn’t, a lot of things Adam wanted to be.
“Kris-” Adam paused. What was he going to say? Was he actually going to go down the ‘I admire’ you route? Was he going to tell Kris how he looked up to him?
“Adam?” Kris teased, grinning.
Adam swallowed and felt something deep in his core flicker. He kept his eyes on the brown bottle as he slid it back and forth on the table, between his hands.
“Kris, I think-”
Buzz.
Buzz.
“I’m vibrating,” Adam finished awkwardly, feeling around his pants for his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked down at the screen.
Neil’s Cell
It would have been easy to ignore it, but knowing Neil, he’d just keep calling until Adam picked up.
“I’m sorry,” Adam sighed, waving the phone.
“Nah, it’s alright, go ahead.”
Adam nodded and answered the call, bringing his cell to his ear hesitantly.
“Hello?”
“Adam! My favorite brother!”
“Hi, Neil.” Adam rolled his eyes, and Kris nodded in understanding.
“Listen, I need a favor.”
Where ever Neil was, it was loud, and Adam pressed his free hand against his ear, trying hear what was being said.
“A favor?”
Neil huffed impatiently.
“Yes. A favor,”
“Alright,” Adam said with a sigh. “Are you going to tell me what it is or am I going to have to guess?”
Adam watched Kris motion the waitress over. They spoke briefly, though Adam couldn’t hear the conversation.
“I need you to talk to this girl,” Neil answered, taking Adam’s attention away from the verbal exchange at the table.
“What? What girl?”
“The gorgeous girl in the adorable green dress who is standing right next to me.”
Adam heard giggling and he was sure his eyes were going to roll right out of his head.
“Neil, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Listen, there’s this really hot chick I met at this bar. She’s a ten. I told her I’m Adam Lambert’s brother, but she isn’t buying it. I flashed her my license and everything.” Neil’s voice was hushed and muffled, like he was holding his hand over the phone. However, Adam got the message.
“Ah hah,” Adam laughed dryly. “So you want me to help get you laid?”
Across from him, Kris snorted into his drink and shook his head.
“You know I’d do it for you.”
“Oh, would you?”
“Burning Man 2002.”
“Ok, ok!” Adam hissed, leaning away from Kris as though he might hear. Though, even if he did, he’d have no idea what that meant “Just fucking put her on.”
Adam had to say all of six words before adorable-green-dress-girl squealed so loudly, Kris jumped up off of his chair. Cringing, Adam pulled the phone away from his ear, and six seconds later the call was ended on the other end. Neil owed him, big time.
“Well, it’s good to know someone is getting some tonight,” Adam said off-handedly, noticing a new beer now sat in front of him. He looked at it curiously, then shrugged and drained the one already in his hand.
Kris blushed slightly.
“So, how are you holding up with everything?” he asked.
“Good,” Adam answered quickly. “Real good. The album drops next month and then there’s a lot of promotion scheduled so I’ll be pretty busy. You know how it is.”
Kris nodded slowly and picked at the label of his bottle. As Adam took a sip of the second beer, he noticed that Kris seemed to still be working on his first.
“But, I meant, how are you doing?”
Adam considered the question and frowned a little. He knew exactly what Kris was getting at and he wasn’t sure how he felt discussing the breakup with Kris here, in person. On the phone, it had been easy to withhold bits of truth and be selective about sharing, but it would be much more difficult here. They had perfected this uncanny ability to see things in each other that no one else could. They saw past each other’s facades, broke down each other’s walls. It was slightly unnerving, and Adam wasn’t prepared to start testing his defenses tonight.
“Good,” he repeated. “Real good.”
He punctuated it with a lopsided grin he hoped would end the conversation, but Kris wasn’t convinced.
“You don’t have to be good, you know. I’m not the press. I won‘t judge you for it.”
Adam was surprised by the sharpness in Kris’s voice and he shifted uneasily. Kris thought he wasn’t telling him the truth, and bitterly, Adam realized he was sort of right. Yes, Adam was actually okay with the break up. He missed Drake, but more as a friend than anything else. But he’d lied about the reasons Drake had left and although he told himself it was for Kris’s sake, he knew he wasn’t completely selfless in the act. Taking a long chug of beer to collect his thoughts, Adam knew he had to give him something.
“Kris, really. Of course it sucks and I wish things could have worked, but my life changed a lot after Idol, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. We have to make sacrifices, you know? Contrary to popular belief, you can’t expect to have it all. Drake deserved better than what I could offer him.”
Kris’s face seemed to take on a sort of sadness then and his shoulders hunched slightly forward. No one else would have noticed, but Adam did and he chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, wondering what could have brought upon the mood change.
“But, I’m happy. And I love my life. I’ve got an amazing family,” Adam added, hoping to lighten things. “And some pretty okay friends too.”
Kris looked up then and smiled and, much to Adam’s relief, the sadness was gone. It was difficult enough to imagine Kris hurting, but having any type of hand in it was excruciating, however unintended. With a sigh, he lifted his bottle to his lips only to find it was empty. Not fifteen seconds later, their waitress was at the table, sliding a third in front of him.
“Uh, thanks,” Adam mumbled, looking inquisitively at the bottle. He looked at Kris then and saw guilt dashed across his face; guilt that no one else would ever be able to notice. Adam leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest with a smug grin.
“Kristopher Allen, are you trying to get me drunk?”
Kris’s nostrils flared as he attempted to keep a straight face and Adam raised a significant eyebrow.
“You are! You’re trying to take advantage of me, aren’t you!”
Kris laughed then, rubbing his face with his palms.
“Oh, yes. You’re on to me,” he chuckled. “I just wanted to show you a good time. I wanted you to have a fun night.”
“I appreciate the intent, but you make me sound like a lush.”
“Well…” Kris winced and shrugged.
Adam playfully flipped him off then turned to find their waitress, signaling her over from the bar. When she reached their table, he held up his full beer.
“Can we get two more of these,” he asked, grinning deviously.
“Two? Right now?” the waitress asked, her eyes flicking between Adam and Kris.
“Yup, right now.”
She nodded and turned away, while Kris leaned across the table.
“I know that look and I’m telling you right now, no. I have to get us home, remember? No.”
Adam continued smiling, silent until the waitress returned and placed two more Sam Adams down, gently, on the table.
“Um, anything else?” she asked skeptically, directing her question at Adam.
“No,” he answered. “Not yet.”
“Alright, just let me know,” she said with exaggerated sweetness then left the table.
Adam nodded at the bottles and slid them towards Kris, his eyes shining mischievously.
“What? Adam, no,” Kris whined, leaning back away from the beers and shaking his head. “What are you doing?”
“Leveling the playing field,” Adam answered. “You deserve a fun night, too, even if your boyfriend didn’t just break up with you.”
Kris cracked at this and laughed, sighing finally in resignation and picking up both bottles, one in each fist.
“You’re a horrible influence, do you know that? I don’t know why I hang out with you.”
“You love me,” Adam responded, unthinking. As the words registered, his eyes went wide and he struggled to keep his composure. “I, uh, keep you young,” he added quickly.
Kris rolled his eyes then shrugged, seemingly unaffected by Adam’s declaration and, silently, Adam cursed himself for being such an idiot. Of course Kris loved him, they were best friends. There was no reason for either of them to get worked up over it.
Adam breathed and pushed it out of his mind.
“Now go. Drink!”
Crunching his eyebrows in concentration, Kris nodded and brought the first bottle to his mouth.
“You signed her chest!” Kris giggled, holding the door open for Adam who stumbled out into the parking lot.
“She was a damned good waitress and she asked for an autograph!”
“Yeah, on a cocktail napkin!”
“Kris?”
“What?”
“You said cock.”
Kris’s face turned bright red and Adam doubled over in laughter, holding his sides as they walked away from the bar. After a handful more beers and a shot of Tequila resulting from a mutual dare, the waitress had called a cab at Kris’s request. It sat down by the curb, idling, and when they reached it, Adam pulled the door open and let Kris slide in first, before diving in headfirst himself.
Kris gave the driver the address and they pulled away, Adam nearly toppling over off balance. It had been awhile since he'd allowed himself to get this drunk, not that he'd had much time for partying over the last few months really. It was hard living under a microscope, where your every move had the possibility of ending up as a six page spread in People magazine. Not that he cared what most people thought, but his label did.
“I'm glad you're here,” Kris slurred, poking Adam in the side. “I'm glad you came to Conway.”
Adam smiled.
“I'm really glad I'm here too.”
“I know you'd rather be in Los Angeles with Drake,” Kris said matter-of-factly, shrugging. “But I wasn't letting you spend the holiday in a hotel room.”
Adam swallowed and chewed thoughtfully on his thumbnail. His stomach sloshed around as they took a sharp turn, but something other than the alcohol was twisting his insides into knots. Would he really rather be in L.A. with Drake if given the chance?
No.
The answer came to him immediately. The only place he ever wanted to be at any given time was where Kris was. And that was okay, right? It was okay to want to be around your best friend. Adam sighed.
“Trust me, Kristopher. There is nowhere I'd rather be. Nowhere.”
And he meant it, though not in the sense of Conway, Arkansas, but rather by Kris's side. It was where he longed to be.
And that was okay, right?
He chalked it up to inebriation, but he was feeling oddly emotional, so when Kris turned to him and placed a palm gently on his knee, looking at him from across the cab with wide, awestruck eyes, he sucked in a gulp of air and held it in his lungs.
“I’ve missed you, Adam,” Kris said, his voice wavering. He bit his bottom lip and Adam’s mouth went dry. “We went from spending every minute together to rushed dinners and weekly phone calls. Why? Why did we do that?”
Adam was concentrating very hard. His brain was fuzzy and everything seemed oddly out of focus. Everything except Kris’s voice which was sharp and clear and poignant.
“The tour ended. I didn’t want it to, but it did. And it’s not our fault,” Adam said, a bit loudly. “It’s the fucking label keeping us so busy. They just want their albums. They don’t care if we’re…if we’re…” he paused and thought hard. “They don’t care if we’re fucking happy.”
Kris nodded his head exaggeratedly. They took another turn and the momentum pressed Kris into Adam’s side. Adam drew in a sharp breath, and when the car straightened out, Kris didn’t move.
“They don’t, do they? They just want our music so they can get their money. They don’t really care about us! If they cared they would…know stuff.”
“Yeah,” Adam agreed breathlessly. He was painfully aware that Kris’s hand had slid up to his thigh and was now gripping him through his jeans. He exhaled slowly and giggled in a high-pitched inebriated way that shook his whole body.
“Like, they’d know that I’m happy around you. They’d make us be around each other so I could be happy again.”
Adam stopped laughing as Kris’s face took on an almost child-like quality as he said the words. His eyes were wide and almost fearful though a lop-sided grin tugged up one corner of his mouth.
“You’re…you’re not happy?” Adam whispered.
Kris shrugged and looked down at his hand. Sighing, he slowly pulled it back onto his lap then straightened is body. Adam’s chest felt as though it had caved in. He ran his tongue across his lips and placed his own palm over the empty place Kris’s had just occupied.
“You said ‘so you could be happy again '."
“Huh?” Kris scrunched up his nose and studied Adam. Clearly he was having trouble following the conversation.
“You’re not happy? You said -- never mind.” Adam’s own brain was fogged. He wasn‘t even sure he’d heard him correctly with the way his pulse was pounding loudly in his ears. He didn’t want to think or analyze or question it any further anyway. He was having an amazing night and for the first time in a long time he was enjoying himself completely, without guilt or effort.
When they reached Kris’s place, Kris literally dove out of the backseat onto the lawn and Adam was left tossing bills into the cab drivers hand in an obnoxious fit of laughter. They both stumbled up the front walk and through the front door, tripping each other up while they attempted to squeeze through at the same time.
Adam fell onto his knees in the living room, laughing so hard he curled up into a ball, clutching his stomach. Kris was attempting to hush him through his own giggles as he shut and locked the door behind them.
Taking a deep breath, Adam pushed himself up from the floor and when Kris turned back to look at him, they were silent, their faces serious for a total of twelve seconds before the exploded into fits of laughter again.
“Ok, ok, shhh!” Adam whispered, waving his hand in front of his face. “We’re going to wake everyone up!”
Kris pressed his lips together and nodded seriously, though his eyes crinkled with the effort to repress his laughter.
“Come on, let’s go in my room,” Adam hissed, motioning down the hallway.
“Your room?” asked Kris, squinting his eyes. “Are you moving in or something?”
“Maybe,” Adam teased, tugging Kris along with him towards the guest room. “Would you want me to move in?”
Kris dug his heels into the carpet, stopping them. Swallowing, Adam turned to face him.
“Maybe.”
They stared at each other silently for a moment and Adam felt his heart speed up. His mouth was dry and his tongue darted out over his lips, trying to moisten them. Then Kris laughed, breaking the tension and rubbing his hands together mischievously.
“Go. I’ll meet you in there.”
Adam nodded and walked down the rest of the hallway, scratching the back of his neck and wondering why his heart was suddenly slamming into his ribcage. Horrified, he realized his jeans were feeling a bit snug as well. Once in the safety of the guest room he took a number of deep slow breaths and willed himself to calm down.
While he waited for Kris he kicked his boots off and tugged his jeans down off of his hips. Quickly, he rifled through his luggage, finding his dark green pajama bottoms from the night before and pulling them on.
He turned when he heard the bedroom door creak open and saw Kris standing in the doorway, waving the unopened bottle of Dom Perignon in his hand.
“Kris! That was from me for your parents!” Adam whispered, unsure of why he felt this was a secret.
Kris, however, shrugged and placed his thumbs beneath the cork, aiming it towards the bed, away from Adam. It gave way with an obnoxious pop and the cork flew across the room, denting the opposite wall with the force. They turned and stared at each other, their mouths open in shock before erupting into laughter.
Kris climbed up onto the bed and sat against the metal headboard with his legs crossed. Adam sat next to him with his legs dangling off the mattress, leaning back against the wall. Kris handed him the bottle and he took a quick gulp before passing it back.
“Now was that so bad?” Kris asked, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
Adam shrugged.
“The champagne? No, I think it was a very nice choice if I do say so myself.”
Shaking his head, Kris shoved him playfully in the shoulder, grinning.
“No, you jerk, the bar.”
“Oh,” answered Adam thoughtfully. “No, I guess not. It was actually nice to go out for a drink and not get mobbed.”
Nodding, Kris ran his fingers around the green bottle.
“Yeah, it’s pretty chill here in Conway. I mean, everyone knows your name and what you’ve done, but you’re still a person and the people here get that.”
Adam stared down at his hands, picking idly at the black polish on his thumbnail. Again, he wondered if L.A. was really where he wanted to be. Before this, before Kris, settling down in a place like Conway, Arkansas would have been laughable at best, not that he would actually be settling down any time soon. Still, having a place here, in a town where people slowed down and seem to appreciate the little things seemed like the perfect escape. The proximity to Kris had absolutely nothing to do with the appeal. At all.
Right.
Kris seemed to sense that Adam was somewhere else, deep in thought. He reached out and placed his hand against his forearm. The skin to skin contact sent shocks up to Adam’s shoulder and he gazed down, perplexed, at Kris’s hand.
“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” Kris asked softly, his eyes wide and full of understanding. “All these changes, this whole new life - it’s a lot.”
Slowly, Adam tore his eyes away from Kris’s hand. Looking up, he sighed.
“It just feels like everyone wants a piece of you. I don‘t have enough pieces.”
Kris nodded.
“Yeah. It’s kind of weird, right? Being a household name? You come to realize the spotlight is pretty lonely. They don‘t tell you that in kindergarten when you tell them you want to be a famous singer.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve got Katy,” Adam said with a shrug, pulling his arm out from under Kris’s hand. He was surprised by the unexpected bitterness in his voice.
“Adam,” Kris replied seriously, as Adam averted his eyes. “Adam, you’re my friend. No, no, you’re my best friend. You’ve got me too. Always. And not just a piece. The whole thing. And in the rare case that you really need me and I can’t jump on a plane and come bail you out, I’ll only ever be a phone call away.”
Rolling his eyes, Adam took a swig of champagne, though it was simply a way to mask the way his lower lip trembled in response to Kris’s words. The impact of them rendered him speechless, so he simply shrugged, all the while praying to a God he didn’t believe in on the off chance that it could make or break Kris’s oath.
Kris, however, met his projected indifference with an exasperated sigh and he pulled the Dom Perignon out from Adam’s grip.
“Here, look.” Kris’s unsteady fingers pulled the gold ribbon from the neck of the bottle. Biting his lip in concentration he leaned forward and looped it around Adam’s wrist, tying it securely with a knot.
“Aw, did you make me a friendship bracelet?” Adam laughed, batting his eyelashes comically at Kris.
“Shut up. No, it’s so you don’t forget.”
Adam looked down at the ribbon and then back at Kris, tilting his head as he tried to understand.
“You know,” Kris explained, nodding, “like when people tie a red string around their finger to remind themselves of something. Except, not a string. And not red.”
“And not on my finger,” Adam added, looking down and touching the ribbon thoughtfully.
“Exactly!” Kris agreed, taking a sip of champagne. “Gold is more your color anyway.”
When Adam’s eyes flicked back up, they met Kris’s, and they silently smiled at each other from across the bed. It was a seemingly small moment, but it was momentous, because despite the alcohol-induced fog swirling in Adam’s brain, things suddenly became crystal clear.
Drake had been right. Somewhat. Adam loved Kris in a way that was perpetuated by their unique connection, but transcended friendship. If he was being honest, it also surpassed romance. It was its own entity; the only entity.
But, Adam wasn’t waiting. Drake had been very wrong on that count. Waiting meant he was expecting something to change or preparing for some shift of events. He wasn‘t. He was content with this, with whatever it was that Kris could offer him - he would take it and be thankful for it.
But, damn it, he was tired of just being content. He wanted to be happy. He wanted to be greedy - to ask for it all, to ask for more. He wanted to throw caution to the wind and be selfish and give it a go.
He was wanting, but he certainly wasn’t waiting.
Across the bed, Kris brought the bottle of champagne to his lips, dribbling most of the liquid down the front of his shirt, his eyes glassy with inebriation. It would be so easy to say something, to blame it on a drunken slip or pose a hypothetical question to be forgotten by tomorrow’s hangover. The words itched Adam’s lips and made his mouth twitch, but what came out was an exaggerated yawn. He sprawled out on the bed, stretching his arms over his head, then turned on his side, putting his back to Kris.
Kris deserved better than that. Their friendship deserved better.
“Aw, are you going to bed?” Kris whined, sitting up on his knees and peering over the wall Adam had created with his body.
“Yeah,” Adam mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m gonna crash. I’ve got to be in the studio by eleven-thirty tomorrow and it‘s already two in the morning.”
“Pfft, lightweight,” Kris teased, all but falling off the bed as he stood.
Playfully, Adam flicked the finger over his shoulder, the ironic gold ribbon still tied around his wrist.
Kris snickered and wished Adam good night before stumbling out of the room, turning off the light and shutting the door behind him.
Once Adam was sure he was gone, he rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Even in his alcohol induced haze he knew things had taken a sharp turn off track. It was easy to blame his impure thoughts on inebriation. It was easy to classify himself as an affectionate drunk. It was easy to admit that Kris was attractive and he was horny and it was simply as superficial as that.
Disgusted with himself, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. When he stood, the room tilted a bit and he had to close his eyes to regain equilibrium. When he felt steady again, he padded across the carpet, opening the door as quietly as he could and then slipping out down the hall.
On his way to the bathroom, he passed Kris and Katy’s door and childishly averted his eyes, even though it was closed. Images of Kris snuggled up against Katy’s small warm body, nuzzling his nose into her neck, running his fingers down the length of her thigh flashed and burned across Adam’s brain and it made his stomach feel oddly sour. When he finally reached the bathroom and clicked the door behind him, he released a breath he’d been holding since he’d first left his room.
Kris was a friend. Kris was his side-kick, his confidant. Everything he thought he was feeling, these revelations he thought he was having, were a result of one too many beers and a severe lack of action since Drake had left over a month ago. If he could just find some release, Adam figured, things would right themselves and he would get back in the right head space.
Sighing, he placed his arm against the tiled wall and pressed his forehead into his forearm. Some of the fuzz in his brain was lifting, though in its place Adam recognized the presence of a headache. Not wanting to wait for the mild pain to morph into something full blown, Adam slipped his hand beneath the waist band of his pajama bottoms and got to work, rubbing his palm over the length of his cock.
As he jerked off, he tried to keep his thoughts on anyone but Kris, attempting and failing to recall his darker, pre-Kris fantasies. Somehow, everything he pictured in his head transformed into that familiar jaw line, those deep brown eyes, that infuriating signature smirk.
When Adam came, breathless and trembling and feeling like the dirty bastard he was, despite all efforts, it was with a picture of Kris burned against his brain. And when he gently pulled his hand from his pants and looked down, the gold ribbon around his wrist was mocking him and he realized that he was, unequivocally, fucked.
Adam was caught in the hazy moments between awake and asleep when a soft knock on the door roused him to full consciousness. He rubbed his eyes, ignoring the smudged mess of day old makeup he was making then called for the person on the other side to come in.
Slowly, the door creaked open, until there was a large enough space for Kris to poke his head in.
“Are you awake?” he asked quietly.
“No,” Adam groaned, pulling the pillow from behind his head over his face.
Kris grinned and moved into the room, bouncing across the carpet and then hopping onto the bed next to him.
“What time is it?” Adam grumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow as he rolled onto his side to make room for Kris.
“Seven-thirty,” Kris answered. He laid out on the left side of the bed, resting his arms behind his head and crossing his legs at the ankles.
“Too early. Need sleep.”
“Oh, come on. We survived on much less sleep during the tour.”
“Yeah and much less alcohol,” Adam groaned.
Sighing in resignation, he tucked the pillow back behind his head. Bits and pieces of the night before were beginning to surface in his memory, but something self-preserving warned him not to give it much thought. Slowly, he opened his eyes, letting them focus against the harsh sunlight streaming in through the windows. When he’d adjusted, he saw Kris stretched out next to him in an old grey tee-shirt and a pair of blue plaid pajama bottoms. Unexpectedly, his pulse sped just slightly. Internally, he rolled his eyes, but outwardly he looked to conversation in a feeble attempt at distraction.
“So, do you miss it a lot?” he asked, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling.
“Some of it, sometimes,” Kris answered, sighing softly. “You?”
“Some of it, sometimes,” he echoed.
“I miss the crowds.” Kris closed his eyes and Adam imagined the deafening waves of cheers reverberating through the stadiums.
He nodded slowly in agreement.
“I miss the big stage.”
“I miss peeking out at the filling seats before the show.”
“I miss the shitty cramped tour bus and Matt’s horrible snoring.”
“I miss you.”
Adam swallowed thickly and shifted onto his side to face Kris, whose eyes fluttered open slowly.
“I’m here,” he whispered matter-of-factly. “You’re my best friend. That‘s one thing that hasn‘t changed just because the tour is over.” As if to prove the point, Adam lifted his arm, showing Kris the gold ribbon that was still tied securely around his wrist.
“I know,” Kris answered quietly. He turned his head so that his face was only inches from Adam’s; so close that Adam could feel Kris’s warm breath fanning out across the bridge of his nose.
For a moment they were silent, studying each other’s faces in a way that was so intense, Adam felt his breath hitch. Then Kris twisted his head back forward and sighed.
“I don’t want you to go back to L.A.”
Adam’s jaw fell open, but he didn’t know what to say. If he was being honest, he didn’t want to go back to L.A. himself, but he certainly wasn’t about to throw away his recording contract and take up residence in the Allen’s spare bedroom in Arkansas. So, when he did speak, it was the truth.
“I have to. But I‘ll only be a phone call away, you know.”
Kris nodded and clasped his fingers together over his chest.
“It’s just that-” he started, but let the end of the sentence trail off unfinished.
“It’s just what?” Adam was both shocked and terrified when his arm moved on its own accord. Without consciously deciding to do so, his right hand came to rest over Kris’s.
“I don’t want you to leave this bed. I don’t want you to leave this room. It’s not just L.A., it’s me in general. I don’t want you to leave me. When you’re here, I just feel better. Like I‘m me. Like there is somebody that gets it.”
Adam sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth and bit down hard. Something familiar in his chest stirred and then flickered, like the last licks of flame of a campfire in the rain. Then he swallowed hard and something unexpected escaped from between his lips.
“I don’t want to leave you.”
What? Had he really just said that? And more importantly, was it out of line?
No, of course not. Kris had just asked him not to leave.
Kris. Had. Just. Asked. Him. Not. To. Leave.
Suddenly, Adam was desperate to remember exactly what the hell had happened last night. A sense of dread began to form in the pit of his stomach as the questions flipped through his mind.
What did we do?
What did he say?
What does this mean?
He remembered a blonde, zealous waitress and getting a phone call from Neil. He remembered a cab ride and champagne.
Oh, hell, there had been champagne?
Suddenly, he felt Kris lift one of his fingers up to wrap around his and the dying flame deep in his core roared with new vigor, igniting his insides with a fiery glow. He was certain his heart was visibly beating out of his chest as the memory of his late night bathroom rendezvous broke through his brain static. After that, the entire night seemed to come together in his head, all the pieces fitting together in an elaborate jigsaw, and he certainly would have blushed - if Adam Lambert blushed. Instead he cringed and his stomach pulled into a tight, sickening knot.
“Boys?”
Adam yanked his hand free, bolting upright so quickly his head spun. Beside him, Kris attempted to do the same, rolling to the side so fast he tumbled down off the bed onto the floor with a grunt.
In the door way, Mrs. Allen shook her head and laughed. “Come on down to the kitchen. Have a piece of pie before Adam has to get going. Don‘t you have to be back in Memphis by eleven, hon?”
Adam’s heart was still ricocheting around in his chest, though now for a much different reason. His throat felt like cotton, and he knew no intelligible words would find their way through so he just nodded, a little over-enthusiastically.
Kris popped up over the side of the bed, a guilty grin dashed across his face.
“Okay mama, be right there.”
For a moment she eyed him suspiciously, and Adam held his breath in terror, but then she chuckled and shook her head again, before turning and disappearing down the hall.
“Well, fuck!” Adam breathed as soon as he was sure she was out of earshot, the air coming out from his lungs in a long whoosh. “Kris, I-”
“Come on,” Kris interrupted, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You’ve got to get on the road.”
“Right,” Adam answered automatically, feeling and hating that the atmosphere in the room had changed so drastically.
The smile on Kris’s face had been replaced by a thin, tight line and his eyes darted around the room, coming to rest everywhere except Adam’s. When he sighed finally and turned and left the room, Adam followed him silently down the hall and into the kitchen, feeling all kinds of conflicted confusion.
With valiant effort, he managed to politely decline the pie. Mrs. Allen was having none of it at first, but his stomach wasn’t feeling up to much more than a dry piece of toast and Kris’s standoffish behavior made it clear that his welcome had been worn out. It was understandable. They both had their careers to get back to. Having two days off had been a gift, a rare gift.
They all stood in the kitchen to say their goodbyes, Kris leaning against the counter looking everywhere but at Adam. Katy had her arms wrapped around his waist, making him promise to come stay again soon before she released him. He thanked the Allens for having him and reiterated what a great time he’d had and how wonderful Mrs. Allen’s cooking had been. Then it was slightly awkward and silent until Kris pushed away from the counter and picked up one of the suitcases by Adam’s feet. Without saying a word, he nodded towards the front door. Adam picked up the remaining bag, said a final farewell and followed him out the front.
He popped the trunk of the Ferrari and Kris tossed in the suitcase he’d taken, then shoved his hands in his back pockets and leaned against the bumper, looking at the driveway. Adam sighed and shook his head, exasperated by the situation, before depositing the second bag.
“So, thanks for shacking me up,” Adam said, slamming the trunk closed.
Kris nodded, but didn’t lift his eyes.
“You’re welcome. I’m happy you came.”
He didn’t sound happy.
“We’ll see each other soon, okay?” Adam tried, pulling his keys out from the pocket of his jacket.
“Yeah?” Kris looked up then and Adam could see the warring emotions fighting in his features. Reading Kris was easy, but understanding was difficult. He titled his head, curiously.
“Yeah.”
Biting his bottom lip, Kris nodded slowly and pulled his hands out from his back pockets. He rubbed his eyes then let his arms fall and, without thinking, Adam pulled him into a hug.
“Soon,” he whispered, and Kris pushed his face into Adam’s shoulder, squeezing him tightly.
When they broke away, Adam was relieved to see Kris’s lips pulled into a small smile. It looked a bit forced, but it was better than nothing, and until Adam could wrap his head around the situation, it would do. He climbed into the front seat, hesitating before pulling the door closed and sticking the key into the ignition. They waved to each other from opposite sides of the window and although he hated leaving things feeling so wrong, Adam started the car. Kris didn’t wait for him to pull out before turning, walking up the front and disappearing into the house and, worse, he didn’t look back once.
Adam sighed and pressed the heels of his hands against his forehead. He noticed then that the gold ribbon Kris had tied around his wrist last night was still there and without a second thought, he tugged at the knot until it gave way.
At first he moved to jam it in his pocket, but then decided on a more dignified spot. Hunching forward, he tied the ribbon around his key ring that dangled from the ignition, being sure the knot was secure and tight. He touched it thoughtfully and remembered the promise that had come with the simple golden ribbon, and decided he was holding Kris to it. Then with a sigh, he pressed the brake and shifted the car into reverse.
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Author: cheapxdate
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Rating: R
Warnings: None? Language, sexuality?
Word Count: 51,021
Part: ONE: A LITTLE MORE THAN BEERS AND BROTHERS
Dinner was uneventful. Kris regaled them with a recap of he and Adam’s afternoon downtown which spurred Mrs. Allen to share stories from Kris’s childhood. Kris repeatedly apologized and complained that Adam wasn’t interested, though in reality, he loved learning about Kris’s life and listened intently to Mrs. Allen‘s every word.. Again, Kris and Adam did the dishes, and after the last glass was dried and returned to its place in the cabinet, they went out into the living room to relax. Or at least, Adam had assumed they would relax; just wind down and watch some TV and bullshit the night away. Kris, however, had other ideas.
“Come on,” Kris insisted, attempting to pull Adam up off the couch by his wrist. “Katy’s spending time with some girl friends in town for the holiday. Let’s go out tonight.”
“Out? I’m sure the Conway nightlife is exquisite, but I think I’ll pass.” Adam resisted, pressing back into the cushions and digging his heels into the floor.
Kris rolled his eyes and let go.
“Don’t knock it. We’ve got a bar.”
“A whole bar?” Adam asked sarcastically, opening his eyes wide in mock surprise.
"Yes. A whole bar. It isn't big or fancy, but it also isn't crowded, teeming with people grabbing and demanding autographs. It's local and even during the holiday weekend you'll be lucky if there's a few old guys in there watching a game."
Adam considered the idea, rubbing his palm against his chin.
He hadn’t gone out in awhile, not at least since he’d broken up with Drake. The L.A. paparazzi had been hot on his tail, eager to catch a shot of him with any random member of the male sex so that they could label them a couple and sell their scandalous photos to the big name magazines. Going out meant pictures and grabbing and touching and scrutiny.
Not to mention, he hadn’t felt much like partying. He was exhausted from the late hours of recording and perpetual jetlag. Despite all efforts to the contrary, he’d become distant with many of his friends and the stock celebrity company had long ago lost its gleam.
And then there were the more subtle reasons that he wasn’t jumping at the opportunity to go out drinking with Kris.
Adam wasn’t really sure what was going on to be honest. There were reactions, unexpected ones, that he was having to Kris and while he’d been ardently ignoring them, there was no denying they existed. What it meant or why it was happening was not yet something he was prepared to evaluate, yet he doubted the addition of alcohol would aid his ignorance. There was also the fact that words slipped from the lips much easier with inebriation and should discussion of the breakup be breached, Adam didn’t trust himself not to spill Kris’s part in the matter. Really, he doubted he would get that drunk, but even the possibility was enough to make him hesitant.
However, saying no to Kris outright was a feat in and of itself. And a drink didn’t sound horrible right about now.
Kris interrupted his thoughts, his words dripping heavily with sarcasm.
"Or we could spend another night here, doing nothing, and you can continue to wallow in self-pity. That sounds like a much better time."
Groaning, Adam stood and playfully shoved Kris by the shoulders. Maybe tonight, after a few drinks, he would come clean. It wouldn’t change anything, but he was really foolish for not being upfront about it from the beginning. It wasn’t a big deal, honestly. Though, he wondered, if that we’re the case, why was he so God-damn nervous about it?
"Fine. We'll go out. But you're buying."
Kris rolled his eyes, but nodded in agreement.
They took Kris’s Fusion, and as they drove across town, Adam remembered the day they’d received their Fords, fondly. It had been the very beginning of the tour, during a beautiful day in the summer. Adam had chosen a Mustang - fast, flashy and loud - while Kris had opted for the Fusion - eco-friendly, reliable and modest. After smiling for the necessary amount of photos and signing autographs they’d gotten in their cars and raced down the highway. They were due to return back for the night’s concert, but instead of heading straight there, they stopped at a roadside diner, talking and laughing over enormous cheeseburgers and vanilla milkshakes. They were almost late that night and received a lot of flak and a stern talking to about responsibilities and reputations, though Adam wouldn’t have changed the afternoon for anything.
It wasn’t until Adam felt the car’s momentum slow and then stop that he realized they had reached their destination. Ducking his head to peer up at the establishment looming outside the front windshield, he cocked a curious eyebrow. It looked old and worn, but loved - a place that would have ‘regulars’ and menu items named after them. The wooden front door was crooked and the windows were slightly tinted, though a dirty yellow light illuminated them from the inside.
“They’ve got beer,” Kris reasoned, sensing his hesitation. He pushed open the driver’s side door and stepped out, and Adam did the same on his side, looking around the mostly empty parking lot dubiously.
“Oh, just come on,” Kris huffed, leading the way up to the front, Adam following a step behind, sulking.
When Kris pushed the door open, allowing Adam to pass by him into the bar first, the first thing Adam noticed was how dark the interior of the building was. The only discernible source of light came from a few mock oil lamps mounted on the walls and the glow from two television screens behind the bar. He glanced around, taking in his surroundings - a few small, round, wooden tables and chairs, an old-fashioned juke box, a dart board hanging on the farthest wall. The bar itself ran the entire length of the place on their left, with various bottles lined up against a long, tempered mirror. There were a few backless barstools, mostly unoccupied, though the handful of people in the place barely gave them a second glance.
Kris led him to a small table in the back corner and sank down into one of the chairs. Adam took the free one and flipped it around so that the back was against the table. He swung his leg over and sat with his arms folded on the back of the chair.
Immediately, a waitress was hovering, smiling expectantly first at Adam and then at Kris before bouncing over, pad in hand.
“Kristopher Allen! It’s been awhile since I saw you in here,” she commented, pushing her hair back off her forehead, though her wide eyes were glued to Adam.
Smiling, Kris nodded.
“Yeah, I’ve been kind of busy.”
“Oh, I know! We still have your autograph hanging behind the bar! I bought three copies of your album!” She beamed proud, her eyes shifting quickly away from Adam, to Kris, then back again.
“That’s awesome. Thank you,” Kris said, ducking his head, and though Adam couldn’t see in the dim lighting, he knew he was blushing.
There was an awkward silence then as Kris fidgeted with the edge of the drink menu and Adam sighed, twisting towards the waitress with his arm extended.
“Adam Lambert.”
She practically squealed as she took his hand and shook it vigorously.
“I know who you are! Oh my God, you‘re even hotter in person!” she screeched, and, out of the corner of his eye, Adam saw Kris stifle a laugh behind his menu.
Gently, Adam pulled his arm back and cleared his throat.
“So, a Sam Adams?”
He looked expectantly at Kris who added, “two.”
“Oh! Right!” the waitress started, bringing a hand to her cheek. “Right away!” She paused a moment longer, taking them both in, then spun on her heels and all but skipped away from the table.
“Smooth, Allen,” Adam laughed, clicking his nails against the table.
“What?” Kris had put the small, rectangular menu down and was now leaning forward with his chin in his hands. “I promised you minimal attention.”
“Yeah, minimal attention. I’m not invisible!”
Kris shrugged and grinned and seconds later the waitress returned with their drinks and a stack of cocktail napkins.
“Anything else?” she purred, though her fingers fidgeted nervously with the collar of her black polo. “Something to eat?”
Kris shook his head and Adam said sweetly, “No, I think we’re good. Thank you,” and she scurried away, back off towards the kitchen.
“I’ll never get used to it,” Kris remarked, taking a swig from the condensation covered bottle in front of him. “Never.”
“Get used to what?”
“The fame. I mean, I’m getting used to the schedule and the lack of sleep and the jet setting, but I’ll never get used to people acting like I’m someone special.”
Adam tilted his head and watched Kris take another sip of beer.
“But you are someone special.”
Kris rolled his eyes and shrugged.
“No, I’m just lucky. I get to make music for a living.”
There were many reasons Kris was special and the fact that he could now make music a career wasn’t at the top of the list. In Adam’s mind, it didn’t even crack the top three. He was an amazing person, both generous and kind. He was selfless and genuine and honest. He was a lot of things that Adam wasn’t, a lot of things Adam wanted to be.
“Kris-” Adam paused. What was he going to say? Was he actually going to go down the ‘I admire’ you route? Was he going to tell Kris how he looked up to him?
“Adam?” Kris teased, grinning.
Adam swallowed and felt something deep in his core flicker. He kept his eyes on the brown bottle as he slid it back and forth on the table, between his hands.
“Kris, I think-”
Buzz.
Buzz.
“I’m vibrating,” Adam finished awkwardly, feeling around his pants for his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked down at the screen.
Neil’s Cell
It would have been easy to ignore it, but knowing Neil, he’d just keep calling until Adam picked up.
“I’m sorry,” Adam sighed, waving the phone.
“Nah, it’s alright, go ahead.”
Adam nodded and answered the call, bringing his cell to his ear hesitantly.
“Hello?”
“Adam! My favorite brother!”
“Hi, Neil.” Adam rolled his eyes, and Kris nodded in understanding.
“Listen, I need a favor.”
Where ever Neil was, it was loud, and Adam pressed his free hand against his ear, trying hear what was being said.
“A favor?”
Neil huffed impatiently.
“Yes. A favor,”
“Alright,” Adam said with a sigh. “Are you going to tell me what it is or am I going to have to guess?”
Adam watched Kris motion the waitress over. They spoke briefly, though Adam couldn’t hear the conversation.
“I need you to talk to this girl,” Neil answered, taking Adam’s attention away from the verbal exchange at the table.
“What? What girl?”
“The gorgeous girl in the adorable green dress who is standing right next to me.”
Adam heard giggling and he was sure his eyes were going to roll right out of his head.
“Neil, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Listen, there’s this really hot chick I met at this bar. She’s a ten. I told her I’m Adam Lambert’s brother, but she isn’t buying it. I flashed her my license and everything.” Neil’s voice was hushed and muffled, like he was holding his hand over the phone. However, Adam got the message.
“Ah hah,” Adam laughed dryly. “So you want me to help get you laid?”
Across from him, Kris snorted into his drink and shook his head.
“You know I’d do it for you.”
“Oh, would you?”
“Burning Man 2002.”
“Ok, ok!” Adam hissed, leaning away from Kris as though he might hear. Though, even if he did, he’d have no idea what that meant “Just fucking put her on.”
Adam had to say all of six words before adorable-green-dress-girl squealed so loudly, Kris jumped up off of his chair. Cringing, Adam pulled the phone away from his ear, and six seconds later the call was ended on the other end. Neil owed him, big time.
“Well, it’s good to know someone is getting some tonight,” Adam said off-handedly, noticing a new beer now sat in front of him. He looked at it curiously, then shrugged and drained the one already in his hand.
Kris blushed slightly.
“So, how are you holding up with everything?” he asked.
“Good,” Adam answered quickly. “Real good. The album drops next month and then there’s a lot of promotion scheduled so I’ll be pretty busy. You know how it is.”
Kris nodded slowly and picked at the label of his bottle. As Adam took a sip of the second beer, he noticed that Kris seemed to still be working on his first.
“But, I meant, how are you doing?”
Adam considered the question and frowned a little. He knew exactly what Kris was getting at and he wasn’t sure how he felt discussing the breakup with Kris here, in person. On the phone, it had been easy to withhold bits of truth and be selective about sharing, but it would be much more difficult here. They had perfected this uncanny ability to see things in each other that no one else could. They saw past each other’s facades, broke down each other’s walls. It was slightly unnerving, and Adam wasn’t prepared to start testing his defenses tonight.
“Good,” he repeated. “Real good.”
He punctuated it with a lopsided grin he hoped would end the conversation, but Kris wasn’t convinced.
“You don’t have to be good, you know. I’m not the press. I won‘t judge you for it.”
Adam was surprised by the sharpness in Kris’s voice and he shifted uneasily. Kris thought he wasn’t telling him the truth, and bitterly, Adam realized he was sort of right. Yes, Adam was actually okay with the break up. He missed Drake, but more as a friend than anything else. But he’d lied about the reasons Drake had left and although he told himself it was for Kris’s sake, he knew he wasn’t completely selfless in the act. Taking a long chug of beer to collect his thoughts, Adam knew he had to give him something.
“Kris, really. Of course it sucks and I wish things could have worked, but my life changed a lot after Idol, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. We have to make sacrifices, you know? Contrary to popular belief, you can’t expect to have it all. Drake deserved better than what I could offer him.”
Kris’s face seemed to take on a sort of sadness then and his shoulders hunched slightly forward. No one else would have noticed, but Adam did and he chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, wondering what could have brought upon the mood change.
“But, I’m happy. And I love my life. I’ve got an amazing family,” Adam added, hoping to lighten things. “And some pretty okay friends too.”
Kris looked up then and smiled and, much to Adam’s relief, the sadness was gone. It was difficult enough to imagine Kris hurting, but having any type of hand in it was excruciating, however unintended. With a sigh, he lifted his bottle to his lips only to find it was empty. Not fifteen seconds later, their waitress was at the table, sliding a third in front of him.
“Uh, thanks,” Adam mumbled, looking inquisitively at the bottle. He looked at Kris then and saw guilt dashed across his face; guilt that no one else would ever be able to notice. Adam leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest with a smug grin.
“Kristopher Allen, are you trying to get me drunk?”
Kris’s nostrils flared as he attempted to keep a straight face and Adam raised a significant eyebrow.
“You are! You’re trying to take advantage of me, aren’t you!”
Kris laughed then, rubbing his face with his palms.
“Oh, yes. You’re on to me,” he chuckled. “I just wanted to show you a good time. I wanted you to have a fun night.”
“I appreciate the intent, but you make me sound like a lush.”
“Well…” Kris winced and shrugged.
Adam playfully flipped him off then turned to find their waitress, signaling her over from the bar. When she reached their table, he held up his full beer.
“Can we get two more of these,” he asked, grinning deviously.
“Two? Right now?” the waitress asked, her eyes flicking between Adam and Kris.
“Yup, right now.”
She nodded and turned away, while Kris leaned across the table.
“I know that look and I’m telling you right now, no. I have to get us home, remember? No.”
Adam continued smiling, silent until the waitress returned and placed two more Sam Adams down, gently, on the table.
“Um, anything else?” she asked skeptically, directing her question at Adam.
“No,” he answered. “Not yet.”
“Alright, just let me know,” she said with exaggerated sweetness then left the table.
Adam nodded at the bottles and slid them towards Kris, his eyes shining mischievously.
“What? Adam, no,” Kris whined, leaning back away from the beers and shaking his head. “What are you doing?”
“Leveling the playing field,” Adam answered. “You deserve a fun night, too, even if your boyfriend didn’t just break up with you.”
Kris cracked at this and laughed, sighing finally in resignation and picking up both bottles, one in each fist.
“You’re a horrible influence, do you know that? I don’t know why I hang out with you.”
“You love me,” Adam responded, unthinking. As the words registered, his eyes went wide and he struggled to keep his composure. “I, uh, keep you young,” he added quickly.
Kris rolled his eyes then shrugged, seemingly unaffected by Adam’s declaration and, silently, Adam cursed himself for being such an idiot. Of course Kris loved him, they were best friends. There was no reason for either of them to get worked up over it.
Adam breathed and pushed it out of his mind.
“Now go. Drink!”
Crunching his eyebrows in concentration, Kris nodded and brought the first bottle to his mouth.
“You signed her chest!” Kris giggled, holding the door open for Adam who stumbled out into the parking lot.
“She was a damned good waitress and she asked for an autograph!”
“Yeah, on a cocktail napkin!”
“Kris?”
“What?”
“You said cock.”
Kris’s face turned bright red and Adam doubled over in laughter, holding his sides as they walked away from the bar. After a handful more beers and a shot of Tequila resulting from a mutual dare, the waitress had called a cab at Kris’s request. It sat down by the curb, idling, and when they reached it, Adam pulled the door open and let Kris slide in first, before diving in headfirst himself.
Kris gave the driver the address and they pulled away, Adam nearly toppling over off balance. It had been awhile since he'd allowed himself to get this drunk, not that he'd had much time for partying over the last few months really. It was hard living under a microscope, where your every move had the possibility of ending up as a six page spread in People magazine. Not that he cared what most people thought, but his label did.
“I'm glad you're here,” Kris slurred, poking Adam in the side. “I'm glad you came to Conway.”
Adam smiled.
“I'm really glad I'm here too.”
“I know you'd rather be in Los Angeles with Drake,” Kris said matter-of-factly, shrugging. “But I wasn't letting you spend the holiday in a hotel room.”
Adam swallowed and chewed thoughtfully on his thumbnail. His stomach sloshed around as they took a sharp turn, but something other than the alcohol was twisting his insides into knots. Would he really rather be in L.A. with Drake if given the chance?
No.
The answer came to him immediately. The only place he ever wanted to be at any given time was where Kris was. And that was okay, right? It was okay to want to be around your best friend. Adam sighed.
“Trust me, Kristopher. There is nowhere I'd rather be. Nowhere.”
And he meant it, though not in the sense of Conway, Arkansas, but rather by Kris's side. It was where he longed to be.
And that was okay, right?
He chalked it up to inebriation, but he was feeling oddly emotional, so when Kris turned to him and placed a palm gently on his knee, looking at him from across the cab with wide, awestruck eyes, he sucked in a gulp of air and held it in his lungs.
“I’ve missed you, Adam,” Kris said, his voice wavering. He bit his bottom lip and Adam’s mouth went dry. “We went from spending every minute together to rushed dinners and weekly phone calls. Why? Why did we do that?”
Adam was concentrating very hard. His brain was fuzzy and everything seemed oddly out of focus. Everything except Kris’s voice which was sharp and clear and poignant.
“The tour ended. I didn’t want it to, but it did. And it’s not our fault,” Adam said, a bit loudly. “It’s the fucking label keeping us so busy. They just want their albums. They don’t care if we’re…if we’re…” he paused and thought hard. “They don’t care if we’re fucking happy.”
Kris nodded his head exaggeratedly. They took another turn and the momentum pressed Kris into Adam’s side. Adam drew in a sharp breath, and when the car straightened out, Kris didn’t move.
“They don’t, do they? They just want our music so they can get their money. They don’t really care about us! If they cared they would…know stuff.”
“Yeah,” Adam agreed breathlessly. He was painfully aware that Kris’s hand had slid up to his thigh and was now gripping him through his jeans. He exhaled slowly and giggled in a high-pitched inebriated way that shook his whole body.
“Like, they’d know that I’m happy around you. They’d make us be around each other so I could be happy again.”
Adam stopped laughing as Kris’s face took on an almost child-like quality as he said the words. His eyes were wide and almost fearful though a lop-sided grin tugged up one corner of his mouth.
“You’re…you’re not happy?” Adam whispered.
Kris shrugged and looked down at his hand. Sighing, he slowly pulled it back onto his lap then straightened is body. Adam’s chest felt as though it had caved in. He ran his tongue across his lips and placed his own palm over the empty place Kris’s had just occupied.
“You said ‘so you could be happy again '."
“Huh?” Kris scrunched up his nose and studied Adam. Clearly he was having trouble following the conversation.
“You’re not happy? You said -- never mind.” Adam’s own brain was fogged. He wasn‘t even sure he’d heard him correctly with the way his pulse was pounding loudly in his ears. He didn’t want to think or analyze or question it any further anyway. He was having an amazing night and for the first time in a long time he was enjoying himself completely, without guilt or effort.
When they reached Kris’s place, Kris literally dove out of the backseat onto the lawn and Adam was left tossing bills into the cab drivers hand in an obnoxious fit of laughter. They both stumbled up the front walk and through the front door, tripping each other up while they attempted to squeeze through at the same time.
Adam fell onto his knees in the living room, laughing so hard he curled up into a ball, clutching his stomach. Kris was attempting to hush him through his own giggles as he shut and locked the door behind them.
Taking a deep breath, Adam pushed himself up from the floor and when Kris turned back to look at him, they were silent, their faces serious for a total of twelve seconds before the exploded into fits of laughter again.
“Ok, ok, shhh!” Adam whispered, waving his hand in front of his face. “We’re going to wake everyone up!”
Kris pressed his lips together and nodded seriously, though his eyes crinkled with the effort to repress his laughter.
“Come on, let’s go in my room,” Adam hissed, motioning down the hallway.
“Your room?” asked Kris, squinting his eyes. “Are you moving in or something?”
“Maybe,” Adam teased, tugging Kris along with him towards the guest room. “Would you want me to move in?”
Kris dug his heels into the carpet, stopping them. Swallowing, Adam turned to face him.
“Maybe.”
They stared at each other silently for a moment and Adam felt his heart speed up. His mouth was dry and his tongue darted out over his lips, trying to moisten them. Then Kris laughed, breaking the tension and rubbing his hands together mischievously.
“Go. I’ll meet you in there.”
Adam nodded and walked down the rest of the hallway, scratching the back of his neck and wondering why his heart was suddenly slamming into his ribcage. Horrified, he realized his jeans were feeling a bit snug as well. Once in the safety of the guest room he took a number of deep slow breaths and willed himself to calm down.
While he waited for Kris he kicked his boots off and tugged his jeans down off of his hips. Quickly, he rifled through his luggage, finding his dark green pajama bottoms from the night before and pulling them on.
He turned when he heard the bedroom door creak open and saw Kris standing in the doorway, waving the unopened bottle of Dom Perignon in his hand.
“Kris! That was from me for your parents!” Adam whispered, unsure of why he felt this was a secret.
Kris, however, shrugged and placed his thumbs beneath the cork, aiming it towards the bed, away from Adam. It gave way with an obnoxious pop and the cork flew across the room, denting the opposite wall with the force. They turned and stared at each other, their mouths open in shock before erupting into laughter.
Kris climbed up onto the bed and sat against the metal headboard with his legs crossed. Adam sat next to him with his legs dangling off the mattress, leaning back against the wall. Kris handed him the bottle and he took a quick gulp before passing it back.
“Now was that so bad?” Kris asked, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
Adam shrugged.
“The champagne? No, I think it was a very nice choice if I do say so myself.”
Shaking his head, Kris shoved him playfully in the shoulder, grinning.
“No, you jerk, the bar.”
“Oh,” answered Adam thoughtfully. “No, I guess not. It was actually nice to go out for a drink and not get mobbed.”
Nodding, Kris ran his fingers around the green bottle.
“Yeah, it’s pretty chill here in Conway. I mean, everyone knows your name and what you’ve done, but you’re still a person and the people here get that.”
Adam stared down at his hands, picking idly at the black polish on his thumbnail. Again, he wondered if L.A. was really where he wanted to be. Before this, before Kris, settling down in a place like Conway, Arkansas would have been laughable at best, not that he would actually be settling down any time soon. Still, having a place here, in a town where people slowed down and seem to appreciate the little things seemed like the perfect escape. The proximity to Kris had absolutely nothing to do with the appeal. At all.
Right.
Kris seemed to sense that Adam was somewhere else, deep in thought. He reached out and placed his hand against his forearm. The skin to skin contact sent shocks up to Adam’s shoulder and he gazed down, perplexed, at Kris’s hand.
“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” Kris asked softly, his eyes wide and full of understanding. “All these changes, this whole new life - it’s a lot.”
Slowly, Adam tore his eyes away from Kris’s hand. Looking up, he sighed.
“It just feels like everyone wants a piece of you. I don‘t have enough pieces.”
Kris nodded.
“Yeah. It’s kind of weird, right? Being a household name? You come to realize the spotlight is pretty lonely. They don‘t tell you that in kindergarten when you tell them you want to be a famous singer.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve got Katy,” Adam said with a shrug, pulling his arm out from under Kris’s hand. He was surprised by the unexpected bitterness in his voice.
“Adam,” Kris replied seriously, as Adam averted his eyes. “Adam, you’re my friend. No, no, you’re my best friend. You’ve got me too. Always. And not just a piece. The whole thing. And in the rare case that you really need me and I can’t jump on a plane and come bail you out, I’ll only ever be a phone call away.”
Rolling his eyes, Adam took a swig of champagne, though it was simply a way to mask the way his lower lip trembled in response to Kris’s words. The impact of them rendered him speechless, so he simply shrugged, all the while praying to a God he didn’t believe in on the off chance that it could make or break Kris’s oath.
Kris, however, met his projected indifference with an exasperated sigh and he pulled the Dom Perignon out from Adam’s grip.
“Here, look.” Kris’s unsteady fingers pulled the gold ribbon from the neck of the bottle. Biting his lip in concentration he leaned forward and looped it around Adam’s wrist, tying it securely with a knot.
“Aw, did you make me a friendship bracelet?” Adam laughed, batting his eyelashes comically at Kris.
“Shut up. No, it’s so you don’t forget.”
Adam looked down at the ribbon and then back at Kris, tilting his head as he tried to understand.
“You know,” Kris explained, nodding, “like when people tie a red string around their finger to remind themselves of something. Except, not a string. And not red.”
“And not on my finger,” Adam added, looking down and touching the ribbon thoughtfully.
“Exactly!” Kris agreed, taking a sip of champagne. “Gold is more your color anyway.”
When Adam’s eyes flicked back up, they met Kris’s, and they silently smiled at each other from across the bed. It was a seemingly small moment, but it was momentous, because despite the alcohol-induced fog swirling in Adam’s brain, things suddenly became crystal clear.
Drake had been right. Somewhat. Adam loved Kris in a way that was perpetuated by their unique connection, but transcended friendship. If he was being honest, it also surpassed romance. It was its own entity; the only entity.
But, Adam wasn’t waiting. Drake had been very wrong on that count. Waiting meant he was expecting something to change or preparing for some shift of events. He wasn‘t. He was content with this, with whatever it was that Kris could offer him - he would take it and be thankful for it.
But, damn it, he was tired of just being content. He wanted to be happy. He wanted to be greedy - to ask for it all, to ask for more. He wanted to throw caution to the wind and be selfish and give it a go.
He was wanting, but he certainly wasn’t waiting.
Across the bed, Kris brought the bottle of champagne to his lips, dribbling most of the liquid down the front of his shirt, his eyes glassy with inebriation. It would be so easy to say something, to blame it on a drunken slip or pose a hypothetical question to be forgotten by tomorrow’s hangover. The words itched Adam’s lips and made his mouth twitch, but what came out was an exaggerated yawn. He sprawled out on the bed, stretching his arms over his head, then turned on his side, putting his back to Kris.
Kris deserved better than that. Their friendship deserved better.
“Aw, are you going to bed?” Kris whined, sitting up on his knees and peering over the wall Adam had created with his body.
“Yeah,” Adam mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m gonna crash. I’ve got to be in the studio by eleven-thirty tomorrow and it‘s already two in the morning.”
“Pfft, lightweight,” Kris teased, all but falling off the bed as he stood.
Playfully, Adam flicked the finger over his shoulder, the ironic gold ribbon still tied around his wrist.
Kris snickered and wished Adam good night before stumbling out of the room, turning off the light and shutting the door behind him.
Once Adam was sure he was gone, he rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Even in his alcohol induced haze he knew things had taken a sharp turn off track. It was easy to blame his impure thoughts on inebriation. It was easy to classify himself as an affectionate drunk. It was easy to admit that Kris was attractive and he was horny and it was simply as superficial as that.
Disgusted with himself, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. When he stood, the room tilted a bit and he had to close his eyes to regain equilibrium. When he felt steady again, he padded across the carpet, opening the door as quietly as he could and then slipping out down the hall.
On his way to the bathroom, he passed Kris and Katy’s door and childishly averted his eyes, even though it was closed. Images of Kris snuggled up against Katy’s small warm body, nuzzling his nose into her neck, running his fingers down the length of her thigh flashed and burned across Adam’s brain and it made his stomach feel oddly sour. When he finally reached the bathroom and clicked the door behind him, he released a breath he’d been holding since he’d first left his room.
Kris was a friend. Kris was his side-kick, his confidant. Everything he thought he was feeling, these revelations he thought he was having, were a result of one too many beers and a severe lack of action since Drake had left over a month ago. If he could just find some release, Adam figured, things would right themselves and he would get back in the right head space.
Sighing, he placed his arm against the tiled wall and pressed his forehead into his forearm. Some of the fuzz in his brain was lifting, though in its place Adam recognized the presence of a headache. Not wanting to wait for the mild pain to morph into something full blown, Adam slipped his hand beneath the waist band of his pajama bottoms and got to work, rubbing his palm over the length of his cock.
As he jerked off, he tried to keep his thoughts on anyone but Kris, attempting and failing to recall his darker, pre-Kris fantasies. Somehow, everything he pictured in his head transformed into that familiar jaw line, those deep brown eyes, that infuriating signature smirk.
When Adam came, breathless and trembling and feeling like the dirty bastard he was, despite all efforts, it was with a picture of Kris burned against his brain. And when he gently pulled his hand from his pants and looked down, the gold ribbon around his wrist was mocking him and he realized that he was, unequivocally, fucked.
Adam was caught in the hazy moments between awake and asleep when a soft knock on the door roused him to full consciousness. He rubbed his eyes, ignoring the smudged mess of day old makeup he was making then called for the person on the other side to come in.
Slowly, the door creaked open, until there was a large enough space for Kris to poke his head in.
“Are you awake?” he asked quietly.
“No,” Adam groaned, pulling the pillow from behind his head over his face.
Kris grinned and moved into the room, bouncing across the carpet and then hopping onto the bed next to him.
“What time is it?” Adam grumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow as he rolled onto his side to make room for Kris.
“Seven-thirty,” Kris answered. He laid out on the left side of the bed, resting his arms behind his head and crossing his legs at the ankles.
“Too early. Need sleep.”
“Oh, come on. We survived on much less sleep during the tour.”
“Yeah and much less alcohol,” Adam groaned.
Sighing in resignation, he tucked the pillow back behind his head. Bits and pieces of the night before were beginning to surface in his memory, but something self-preserving warned him not to give it much thought. Slowly, he opened his eyes, letting them focus against the harsh sunlight streaming in through the windows. When he’d adjusted, he saw Kris stretched out next to him in an old grey tee-shirt and a pair of blue plaid pajama bottoms. Unexpectedly, his pulse sped just slightly. Internally, he rolled his eyes, but outwardly he looked to conversation in a feeble attempt at distraction.
“So, do you miss it a lot?” he asked, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling.
“Some of it, sometimes,” Kris answered, sighing softly. “You?”
“Some of it, sometimes,” he echoed.
“I miss the crowds.” Kris closed his eyes and Adam imagined the deafening waves of cheers reverberating through the stadiums.
He nodded slowly in agreement.
“I miss the big stage.”
“I miss peeking out at the filling seats before the show.”
“I miss the shitty cramped tour bus and Matt’s horrible snoring.”
“I miss you.”
Adam swallowed thickly and shifted onto his side to face Kris, whose eyes fluttered open slowly.
“I’m here,” he whispered matter-of-factly. “You’re my best friend. That‘s one thing that hasn‘t changed just because the tour is over.” As if to prove the point, Adam lifted his arm, showing Kris the gold ribbon that was still tied securely around his wrist.
“I know,” Kris answered quietly. He turned his head so that his face was only inches from Adam’s; so close that Adam could feel Kris’s warm breath fanning out across the bridge of his nose.
For a moment they were silent, studying each other’s faces in a way that was so intense, Adam felt his breath hitch. Then Kris twisted his head back forward and sighed.
“I don’t want you to go back to L.A.”
Adam’s jaw fell open, but he didn’t know what to say. If he was being honest, he didn’t want to go back to L.A. himself, but he certainly wasn’t about to throw away his recording contract and take up residence in the Allen’s spare bedroom in Arkansas. So, when he did speak, it was the truth.
“I have to. But I‘ll only be a phone call away, you know.”
Kris nodded and clasped his fingers together over his chest.
“It’s just that-” he started, but let the end of the sentence trail off unfinished.
“It’s just what?” Adam was both shocked and terrified when his arm moved on its own accord. Without consciously deciding to do so, his right hand came to rest over Kris’s.
“I don’t want you to leave this bed. I don’t want you to leave this room. It’s not just L.A., it’s me in general. I don’t want you to leave me. When you’re here, I just feel better. Like I‘m me. Like there is somebody that gets it.”
Adam sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth and bit down hard. Something familiar in his chest stirred and then flickered, like the last licks of flame of a campfire in the rain. Then he swallowed hard and something unexpected escaped from between his lips.
“I don’t want to leave you.”
What? Had he really just said that? And more importantly, was it out of line?
No, of course not. Kris had just asked him not to leave.
Kris. Had. Just. Asked. Him. Not. To. Leave.
Suddenly, Adam was desperate to remember exactly what the hell had happened last night. A sense of dread began to form in the pit of his stomach as the questions flipped through his mind.
What did we do?
What did he say?
What does this mean?
He remembered a blonde, zealous waitress and getting a phone call from Neil. He remembered a cab ride and champagne.
Oh, hell, there had been champagne?
Suddenly, he felt Kris lift one of his fingers up to wrap around his and the dying flame deep in his core roared with new vigor, igniting his insides with a fiery glow. He was certain his heart was visibly beating out of his chest as the memory of his late night bathroom rendezvous broke through his brain static. After that, the entire night seemed to come together in his head, all the pieces fitting together in an elaborate jigsaw, and he certainly would have blushed - if Adam Lambert blushed. Instead he cringed and his stomach pulled into a tight, sickening knot.
“Boys?”
Adam yanked his hand free, bolting upright so quickly his head spun. Beside him, Kris attempted to do the same, rolling to the side so fast he tumbled down off the bed onto the floor with a grunt.
In the door way, Mrs. Allen shook her head and laughed. “Come on down to the kitchen. Have a piece of pie before Adam has to get going. Don‘t you have to be back in Memphis by eleven, hon?”
Adam’s heart was still ricocheting around in his chest, though now for a much different reason. His throat felt like cotton, and he knew no intelligible words would find their way through so he just nodded, a little over-enthusiastically.
Kris popped up over the side of the bed, a guilty grin dashed across his face.
“Okay mama, be right there.”
For a moment she eyed him suspiciously, and Adam held his breath in terror, but then she chuckled and shook her head again, before turning and disappearing down the hall.
“Well, fuck!” Adam breathed as soon as he was sure she was out of earshot, the air coming out from his lungs in a long whoosh. “Kris, I-”
“Come on,” Kris interrupted, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You’ve got to get on the road.”
“Right,” Adam answered automatically, feeling and hating that the atmosphere in the room had changed so drastically.
The smile on Kris’s face had been replaced by a thin, tight line and his eyes darted around the room, coming to rest everywhere except Adam’s. When he sighed finally and turned and left the room, Adam followed him silently down the hall and into the kitchen, feeling all kinds of conflicted confusion.
With valiant effort, he managed to politely decline the pie. Mrs. Allen was having none of it at first, but his stomach wasn’t feeling up to much more than a dry piece of toast and Kris’s standoffish behavior made it clear that his welcome had been worn out. It was understandable. They both had their careers to get back to. Having two days off had been a gift, a rare gift.
They all stood in the kitchen to say their goodbyes, Kris leaning against the counter looking everywhere but at Adam. Katy had her arms wrapped around his waist, making him promise to come stay again soon before she released him. He thanked the Allens for having him and reiterated what a great time he’d had and how wonderful Mrs. Allen’s cooking had been. Then it was slightly awkward and silent until Kris pushed away from the counter and picked up one of the suitcases by Adam’s feet. Without saying a word, he nodded towards the front door. Adam picked up the remaining bag, said a final farewell and followed him out the front.
He popped the trunk of the Ferrari and Kris tossed in the suitcase he’d taken, then shoved his hands in his back pockets and leaned against the bumper, looking at the driveway. Adam sighed and shook his head, exasperated by the situation, before depositing the second bag.
“So, thanks for shacking me up,” Adam said, slamming the trunk closed.
Kris nodded, but didn’t lift his eyes.
“You’re welcome. I’m happy you came.”
He didn’t sound happy.
“We’ll see each other soon, okay?” Adam tried, pulling his keys out from the pocket of his jacket.
“Yeah?” Kris looked up then and Adam could see the warring emotions fighting in his features. Reading Kris was easy, but understanding was difficult. He titled his head, curiously.
“Yeah.”
Biting his bottom lip, Kris nodded slowly and pulled his hands out from his back pockets. He rubbed his eyes then let his arms fall and, without thinking, Adam pulled him into a hug.
“Soon,” he whispered, and Kris pushed his face into Adam’s shoulder, squeezing him tightly.
When they broke away, Adam was relieved to see Kris’s lips pulled into a small smile. It looked a bit forced, but it was better than nothing, and until Adam could wrap his head around the situation, it would do. He climbed into the front seat, hesitating before pulling the door closed and sticking the key into the ignition. They waved to each other from opposite sides of the window and although he hated leaving things feeling so wrong, Adam started the car. Kris didn’t wait for him to pull out before turning, walking up the front and disappearing into the house and, worse, he didn’t look back once.
Adam sighed and pressed the heels of his hands against his forehead. He noticed then that the gold ribbon Kris had tied around his wrist last night was still there and without a second thought, he tugged at the knot until it gave way.
At first he moved to jam it in his pocket, but then decided on a more dignified spot. Hunching forward, he tied the ribbon around his key ring that dangled from the ignition, being sure the knot was secure and tight. He touched it thoughtfully and remembered the promise that had come with the simple golden ribbon, and decided he was holding Kris to it. Then with a sigh, he pressed the brake and shifted the car into reverse.
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