Don't Think Twice; It's Alright
A beam of sunlight powers through the windows and hits Kris directly in the face. He closes his eyes tighter, unwilling to move. He’s comfortable, after all. It’s funny; he can’t remember the beds being this warm or this comfortable before. As he gives up on holding onto sleep, he begins to notice some things.
First of all, there’s a weight on his lower back. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s not something that Kris is used to. There’s a similar weight wrapped around his shoulders, and something is resting on top of his head. Kris turns away from the direct sunlight and opens an eye.
He’s rather close to Adam, he discovers rather quickly. It is in fact Adam’s leg draped across his lower back. Adam’s arms wrapped around him. Adam’s fingers softly petting his hair as the singer continues to sleep. Kris recalls the night before and sighs. He’ll have to apologize to Adam for being so hyper. At the same time, he’s hesitant to wake his friend.
He spares a glance at the alarm clock. It’s only six o’clock, and they don’t have anything scheduled today. No, he’ll let Adam sleep. Maybe he’ll sneak downstairs and make breakfast for everyone. It’s been a while since he’s been able to cook.
Slowly, carefully, he starts to remove himself from Adam’s grip. But as soon as he makes a noticeable motion, Adam frowns in his sleep and reflexively tightens his grip, drawing Kris’ back flat against his chest. Kris does his best to silence a surprised yelp as Adam hugs him close, hooking his leg more securely around his waist, like Kris is a life-sized teddy bear or something.
For a moment, Kris just lies there, debating on whether or not he should wake Adam up. He decides against it and makes another attempt to climb out of bed. Adam’s subconscious simply isn’t having it, though. In one, swift motion, he tightens his hug on Kris and rolls over on top of him. Kris can’t help the grunt that escapes his lungs as the weight of Adam’s body presses down on him.
It’s surprisingly comfortable, when he thinks about it. Sure, he’s having a little trouble breathing in the small space between the mattress and Adam’s body, but they just seem to fit together. He’d think about that point a little more, but air is rapidly becoming an issue. He looks up at Adam, who giggles in his sleep as Kris’ hair feathers over his neck.
Kris wonders what Adam is dreaming about, watching smiles pass almost imperceptibly over his features, but he knows he’ll never ask because he’s always believed in the immutable privacy of dreams. If Adam wants him to know, he’ll tell him, just like a few weeks ago, when Kris himself had had a nightmare. Adam hadn’t asked; he’d merely given Kris a comforting hug in the darkness of their room. And without Kris asking, Adam was talking about a nightmare that he’d had the night before, promising that everyone has bad dreams every now and then, and Kris felt much better about the whole situation.
But now there is not nightmare on Adam’s face, only a beautifully calm look. Kris heaves a sigh. He can’t bring himself to disrupt that look of serenity, but he also realizes that it’ll be awkward for Adam if he wakes up with his roommate in his arms. Adam puts a lot on weight on the personal boundaries of others, and Kris is relatively sure that “spooning one’s roommate” would be a violation of Adam’s personal honor code.
He doesn’t know what to do, because Adam looks content, and he’d feel like a Grade A heel if he woke him up. One the other hand, his chest is starting to hurt, and he’s sure that “collapsed lungs” aren’t something that he wants in a singing competition. Bracing himself for an initial cavalcade of awkward, he gently nudges Adam with his elbow.
“Adam,” he says softly. “I love you, man, but I love oxygen, too.” Adam stirs at the sound of Kris’ voice, and he cuddles against the warm body next to him for half a moment before his entire body tenses up. His eyes flutter open, and the piercing blue immediately finds Kris’ honey brown. For a moment, he stares, first in confusion, then in realization, then in total embarrassment. He does a James Bond-esque tuck-and-roll off of the bed and stumbles backwards, still staring.
“Kris!” he manages to blurt out. “Kris, I’m so sorry! I… What… I am SO sorry!” Kris sits up and rubs at his eyes, epitomizing casual.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Adam,” he reassures. “Seriously, it’s okay. I’m the one that was all over you last night, remember? We’re cool.” Adam runs his fingers through his hair and shakes his head.
“But I was on top of you! I was practically… I mean, if you’d…” To Adam’s surprise, Kris laughs. “What’s so funny?”
“You,” Kris admits. “You get up on stage and strut around in front of millions of viewers every week. But a little spooning with your roommate, and you can’t make a sentence?” To his relief, Adam affords half of a smile.
“So, we’re cool?” he asks. Kris gives him a look that tells him that he shouldn’t have even asked.
“I said that already,” he points out with a shrug. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make some breakfast.” Adam watches as Kris climbs out of the bed and stretches as he walks out of the room. He pauses in the doorway and smiles over his shoulder.
“By the way, you look really peaceful when you sleep.” Adam’s smile widens in response. He waits until he hears Kris’ steps on the staircase before exhaling.
“Too close, Lambert,” he tells himself, trudging off of the bathroom. “Too close.” And yet, the back of his mind tells him that it wasn’t close enough.
---
Author’s Notes: I am currently glaring murderously at that ending. It just didn’t want to happen, and I’m not satisfied with the end result. Blech.
Anyway, I wasn’t planning on writing this, but the WWI story is proving a little more difficult than I thought it was going to be. And this one kept popping up in my head, so here is the second Bob Dylan-titled installment in the "Awkward Sleeping and Cuddling Fic String."
Note to Self: Come up with a better name for this arc. Perhaps one with less failsauce.
I’m currently working on another fic, which is slightly darker than most of my projects, and I think that the heavier writing style sort of bled into this one. Sorry about that.
Hope you guys enjoy it anyway!
First of all, there’s a weight on his lower back. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s not something that Kris is used to. There’s a similar weight wrapped around his shoulders, and something is resting on top of his head. Kris turns away from the direct sunlight and opens an eye.
He’s rather close to Adam, he discovers rather quickly. It is in fact Adam’s leg draped across his lower back. Adam’s arms wrapped around him. Adam’s fingers softly petting his hair as the singer continues to sleep. Kris recalls the night before and sighs. He’ll have to apologize to Adam for being so hyper. At the same time, he’s hesitant to wake his friend.
He spares a glance at the alarm clock. It’s only six o’clock, and they don’t have anything scheduled today. No, he’ll let Adam sleep. Maybe he’ll sneak downstairs and make breakfast for everyone. It’s been a while since he’s been able to cook.
Slowly, carefully, he starts to remove himself from Adam’s grip. But as soon as he makes a noticeable motion, Adam frowns in his sleep and reflexively tightens his grip, drawing Kris’ back flat against his chest. Kris does his best to silence a surprised yelp as Adam hugs him close, hooking his leg more securely around his waist, like Kris is a life-sized teddy bear or something.
For a moment, Kris just lies there, debating on whether or not he should wake Adam up. He decides against it and makes another attempt to climb out of bed. Adam’s subconscious simply isn’t having it, though. In one, swift motion, he tightens his hug on Kris and rolls over on top of him. Kris can’t help the grunt that escapes his lungs as the weight of Adam’s body presses down on him.
It’s surprisingly comfortable, when he thinks about it. Sure, he’s having a little trouble breathing in the small space between the mattress and Adam’s body, but they just seem to fit together. He’d think about that point a little more, but air is rapidly becoming an issue. He looks up at Adam, who giggles in his sleep as Kris’ hair feathers over his neck.
Kris wonders what Adam is dreaming about, watching smiles pass almost imperceptibly over his features, but he knows he’ll never ask because he’s always believed in the immutable privacy of dreams. If Adam wants him to know, he’ll tell him, just like a few weeks ago, when Kris himself had had a nightmare. Adam hadn’t asked; he’d merely given Kris a comforting hug in the darkness of their room. And without Kris asking, Adam was talking about a nightmare that he’d had the night before, promising that everyone has bad dreams every now and then, and Kris felt much better about the whole situation.
But now there is not nightmare on Adam’s face, only a beautifully calm look. Kris heaves a sigh. He can’t bring himself to disrupt that look of serenity, but he also realizes that it’ll be awkward for Adam if he wakes up with his roommate in his arms. Adam puts a lot on weight on the personal boundaries of others, and Kris is relatively sure that “spooning one’s roommate” would be a violation of Adam’s personal honor code.
He doesn’t know what to do, because Adam looks content, and he’d feel like a Grade A heel if he woke him up. One the other hand, his chest is starting to hurt, and he’s sure that “collapsed lungs” aren’t something that he wants in a singing competition. Bracing himself for an initial cavalcade of awkward, he gently nudges Adam with his elbow.
“Adam,” he says softly. “I love you, man, but I love oxygen, too.” Adam stirs at the sound of Kris’ voice, and he cuddles against the warm body next to him for half a moment before his entire body tenses up. His eyes flutter open, and the piercing blue immediately finds Kris’ honey brown. For a moment, he stares, first in confusion, then in realization, then in total embarrassment. He does a James Bond-esque tuck-and-roll off of the bed and stumbles backwards, still staring.
“Kris!” he manages to blurt out. “Kris, I’m so sorry! I… What… I am SO sorry!” Kris sits up and rubs at his eyes, epitomizing casual.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Adam,” he reassures. “Seriously, it’s okay. I’m the one that was all over you last night, remember? We’re cool.” Adam runs his fingers through his hair and shakes his head.
“But I was on top of you! I was practically… I mean, if you’d…” To Adam’s surprise, Kris laughs. “What’s so funny?”
“You,” Kris admits. “You get up on stage and strut around in front of millions of viewers every week. But a little spooning with your roommate, and you can’t make a sentence?” To his relief, Adam affords half of a smile.
“So, we’re cool?” he asks. Kris gives him a look that tells him that he shouldn’t have even asked.
“I said that already,” he points out with a shrug. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make some breakfast.” Adam watches as Kris climbs out of the bed and stretches as he walks out of the room. He pauses in the doorway and smiles over his shoulder.
“By the way, you look really peaceful when you sleep.” Adam’s smile widens in response. He waits until he hears Kris’ steps on the staircase before exhaling.
“Too close, Lambert,” he tells himself, trudging off of the bathroom. “Too close.” And yet, the back of his mind tells him that it wasn’t close enough.
---
Author’s Notes: I am currently glaring murderously at that ending. It just didn’t want to happen, and I’m not satisfied with the end result. Blech.
Anyway, I wasn’t planning on writing this, but the WWI story is proving a little more difficult than I thought it was going to be. And this one kept popping up in my head, so here is the second Bob Dylan-titled installment in the "Awkward Sleeping and Cuddling Fic String."
Note to Self: Come up with a better name for this arc. Perhaps one with less failsauce.
I’m currently working on another fic, which is slightly darker than most of my projects, and I think that the heavier writing style sort of bled into this one. Sorry about that.
Hope you guys enjoy it anyway!