All Over You
“Hey, Adam.” Adam picks his head off of the pillow, squinting into the darkness of the room. Kris is bouncing on the end of his bed, grinning widely.
“Yeah, Kris?” Adam’s voice sounds groggy, as well it should because he’s half asleep already. Kris continues to bounce on the edge of the bed.
“We made it, Adam.” Kris’ voice is rife with glee, almost coming out as a squeak. “We made it.”
“Yeah, Kris,” Adam yawns. “We did.” The only reason that he’s not bouncing on his own bed is because he’s so worn out. He wonders how Kris isn’t sleeping.
“Adam!” Kris says again, bouncing more vigorously. “We made it!” Adam nods and pushes himself upright.
“Are you going to be okay, Kris?” he asks. Kris smiles and crosses the room, climbing onto Adam’s bed.
“Kris?” Adam repeats, confused. Kris starts jumping up and down on the mattress, laughing and flailing.
“WE. MADE. IT,” he declares, absolutely giddy. He grabs Adam by the wrists and tugs at his arms, indirectly asking him to join in. “WE MADE IT, ADAM!” Adam can’t help but laugh at how excited his best friend is, but he doesn’t stand up with him.
“Kris, it’s late. I’m sleepy. You know? Sleep? That important thing that you should be doing right now?” Kris ignores him and gives his arms another tug. Adam smirks and pulls his arms back, pulling Kris off balance. Kris continues to giggle excitedly as he topples over, twisting mid-fall so that he doesn’t land on top of Adam. Instead, he crashes into the space next to him, bouncing a few times before settling next to the considerably calmer contestant.
Or, rather, he was calmer. But that was before Kris had climbed onto his bed, plopped down next to him, and snuggled into his side while giggling contentedly. Now he can feel his heart beat a little faster, his palms sweating just enough to make his hands clammy. Kris is oblivious; his laughter becomes breathy as he calms down. He brushes the side of his face against Adam’s forearm as he looks up at his best friend.
“Sorry. I got carried away,” he apologizes sheepishly, curling up as he starts to drift off.
“It’s okay, Kris. You should be excited,” Adam shrugs, repositioning his arm so that it rests under Kris’ head. Kris sighs, and his eyes flutter close despite his best effort to keep them open. Adam lets his head fall back onto his pillow and closes his eyes, amused by how his roommate can go from completely wound up to completely drained in a span of five minutes.
“Adam.” Adam’s eyes snap open at the sound of Kris’ voice, but he doesn’t move. “Adam, we’re staying.” Adam smiles, and it shows in his voice, ruining his attempt at being stern.
“Kristopher, go to sleep.” Kris snorts with laughter and rolls onto his stomach, draping an arm across Adam’s chest in a sleep-addled hug.
“Yes, mom,” he teases. His lips ghost across the skin on Adam’s shoulder, and the taller man fights to repress a shiver. Kris laughs again and cuddles just a little closer, close enough that their bodies are pressed flush against each other.
“You’re sleeping here?” Adam questions, growing a little more nervous as the minutes grow and the space between them shrinks. Kris shrugs.
“Why not?” My bed’s all the way over there,” Kris points over at his bed with his foot. It isn’t more than a few feet away, but Adam lets this fact slide.
“If you drool on me, I’ll throttle you, Allen,” he murmurs in a faux-threatening voice.
“No, you won’t,” Kris replies flatly. Adam raises an eyebrow.
“Fair point,” he confesses. There is another moment of silence, one that Adam doesn’t get to fully enjoy because he’s chanting a mantra to himself (Thou shall not ravage thy roommate. Thou shall not ravage thy roommate. Thou shall not ravage thy roommate.).
“Adam.” Kris’ voice is but a whisper, but it still jolts through Adam’s perception like lightning. He lets out an exasperated sigh just for the theatrics of it.
“Yes, Kris?” he asks, pretending to be annoyed when really he’s rather pleased with this development.
“I miss Matt,” Kris admits under his breath, “but I’m so glad it wasn’t you.” Adam’s heart skips a beat, and his stomach skips doing a flip and heads strait for a full-twisting double back. In the back of his head, he tries to remind himself that Kris’ statement doesn’t have the same connotations that he would like it to have, but the warmth of Kris’ body next to his is intoxicating.
“Yeah, me too, buddy.” Adam thinks the reply is lame, even as he’s saying it.
“I love you, man,” Kris mutters, nuzzling into Adam’s arm. He’s sleeping before Adam can even form a reply, so the older Idol contestant runs his fingers through soft, chestnut hair and stares at the ceiling.
“Dude,” he grumbles as he realizes that he and Kris have completely switched places, and he will not be sleeping any time soon. “That’s so unfair.”
---
Author’s Notes: Beta’d by an odd combination of Microsoft Word and my confused roommate. I’m totally working on that WWI piece, but I got stuck.
This fic is also eerily reminiscent of the time that my hot-yet-totally-unavailable-to-me friend and I decided that sharing a bed wouldn’t be awkward for either one of us. (We were wrong, if you were wondering.)
Title inspired by Bob Dylan, Adam’s nervousness inspired by my own terrible awkwardness, and Kris’ early onset hyperactivity inspired by Pixy Stix. Questions? Comments? Concerns?
“Yeah, Kris?” Adam’s voice sounds groggy, as well it should because he’s half asleep already. Kris continues to bounce on the edge of the bed.
“We made it, Adam.” Kris’ voice is rife with glee, almost coming out as a squeak. “We made it.”
“Yeah, Kris,” Adam yawns. “We did.” The only reason that he’s not bouncing on his own bed is because he’s so worn out. He wonders how Kris isn’t sleeping.
“Adam!” Kris says again, bouncing more vigorously. “We made it!” Adam nods and pushes himself upright.
“Are you going to be okay, Kris?” he asks. Kris smiles and crosses the room, climbing onto Adam’s bed.
“Kris?” Adam repeats, confused. Kris starts jumping up and down on the mattress, laughing and flailing.
“WE. MADE. IT,” he declares, absolutely giddy. He grabs Adam by the wrists and tugs at his arms, indirectly asking him to join in. “WE MADE IT, ADAM!” Adam can’t help but laugh at how excited his best friend is, but he doesn’t stand up with him.
“Kris, it’s late. I’m sleepy. You know? Sleep? That important thing that you should be doing right now?” Kris ignores him and gives his arms another tug. Adam smirks and pulls his arms back, pulling Kris off balance. Kris continues to giggle excitedly as he topples over, twisting mid-fall so that he doesn’t land on top of Adam. Instead, he crashes into the space next to him, bouncing a few times before settling next to the considerably calmer contestant.
Or, rather, he was calmer. But that was before Kris had climbed onto his bed, plopped down next to him, and snuggled into his side while giggling contentedly. Now he can feel his heart beat a little faster, his palms sweating just enough to make his hands clammy. Kris is oblivious; his laughter becomes breathy as he calms down. He brushes the side of his face against Adam’s forearm as he looks up at his best friend.
“Sorry. I got carried away,” he apologizes sheepishly, curling up as he starts to drift off.
“It’s okay, Kris. You should be excited,” Adam shrugs, repositioning his arm so that it rests under Kris’ head. Kris sighs, and his eyes flutter close despite his best effort to keep them open. Adam lets his head fall back onto his pillow and closes his eyes, amused by how his roommate can go from completely wound up to completely drained in a span of five minutes.
“Adam.” Adam’s eyes snap open at the sound of Kris’ voice, but he doesn’t move. “Adam, we’re staying.” Adam smiles, and it shows in his voice, ruining his attempt at being stern.
“Kristopher, go to sleep.” Kris snorts with laughter and rolls onto his stomach, draping an arm across Adam’s chest in a sleep-addled hug.
“Yes, mom,” he teases. His lips ghost across the skin on Adam’s shoulder, and the taller man fights to repress a shiver. Kris laughs again and cuddles just a little closer, close enough that their bodies are pressed flush against each other.
“You’re sleeping here?” Adam questions, growing a little more nervous as the minutes grow and the space between them shrinks. Kris shrugs.
“Why not?” My bed’s all the way over there,” Kris points over at his bed with his foot. It isn’t more than a few feet away, but Adam lets this fact slide.
“If you drool on me, I’ll throttle you, Allen,” he murmurs in a faux-threatening voice.
“No, you won’t,” Kris replies flatly. Adam raises an eyebrow.
“Fair point,” he confesses. There is another moment of silence, one that Adam doesn’t get to fully enjoy because he’s chanting a mantra to himself (Thou shall not ravage thy roommate. Thou shall not ravage thy roommate. Thou shall not ravage thy roommate.).
“Adam.” Kris’ voice is but a whisper, but it still jolts through Adam’s perception like lightning. He lets out an exasperated sigh just for the theatrics of it.
“Yes, Kris?” he asks, pretending to be annoyed when really he’s rather pleased with this development.
“I miss Matt,” Kris admits under his breath, “but I’m so glad it wasn’t you.” Adam’s heart skips a beat, and his stomach skips doing a flip and heads strait for a full-twisting double back. In the back of his head, he tries to remind himself that Kris’ statement doesn’t have the same connotations that he would like it to have, but the warmth of Kris’ body next to his is intoxicating.
“Yeah, me too, buddy.” Adam thinks the reply is lame, even as he’s saying it.
“I love you, man,” Kris mutters, nuzzling into Adam’s arm. He’s sleeping before Adam can even form a reply, so the older Idol contestant runs his fingers through soft, chestnut hair and stares at the ceiling.
“Dude,” he grumbles as he realizes that he and Kris have completely switched places, and he will not be sleeping any time soon. “That’s so unfair.”
---
Author’s Notes: Beta’d by an odd combination of Microsoft Word and my confused roommate. I’m totally working on that WWI piece, but I got stuck.
This fic is also eerily reminiscent of the time that my hot-yet-totally-unavailable-to-me friend and I decided that sharing a bed wouldn’t be awkward for either one of us. (We were wrong, if you were wondering.)
Title inspired by Bob Dylan, Adam’s nervousness inspired by my own terrible awkwardness, and Kris’ early onset hyperactivity inspired by Pixy Stix. Questions? Comments? Concerns?