American Idol: Adam/Kris: Pages Full of Golden Rules
Title: pages full of golden rules
Pairing(s): Adam Lambert/Kris Allen
Rating: light R? idk. We have established I suck at ratings.
Summary: Written for the ontd_ai kink meme prompt "Kradam Political AU - Kris is the mayor of a small conservative town under fire for his progressive opinions (such as Gays being people and the universe being more than 6000 years old), Adam is a big city reporter coming to interview him. Eyefucking, sexytimes, etc. commence." Sorry about the lack of kink. Unless you count politicians, which I totes do. ALSO THIS WAS POSTED THERE FOREVER AGO BUT I JUST GOT AROUND TO EDITING + POSTING HERE, OOPS.
Notes:
1. I was actually in the process of writing a Governor!Kris political AU when this prompt was posted. I considered whether or not I should just re-work that, when I decided that instead I'd just do a prequel. It was fun to work backwards like that, and more stuff may be explained in the Governor!AU. So a sequel is already in progress, I just can't make any promises about when it will be finished.
2. Although I've visisted Arkansas, my knowledge of Magnolia is limited to Wikipedia, their city website, and a few other places. I picked it because I wanted some place that wasn't too small but wasn't too big either, likely to trend conservative but not so much that it was unbearable. If you happen to live in Magnolia and are like "wtf, this is all off," let's just say that this is actually Magnolia the Second, the metaphorical city offspring of The First, okay?
3. Kris' "slip-up" in this story was totally made by a real-life someone. Love for anyone who gets it. ♥
In Magnolia, you've got the city living with the small-town attitude. Sometimes that's too much for Kris, with the gossip and the neighbors who stop speaking to you after you stop going to church every Sunday (he's only had that happen once, even though it was because he taking a worship leader spot at a new place).
Other times it's a blessing, because mayors don't get elected based on ideology, they get elected on ideas and a little bit on connections, and Kris actually feels like he has a voice in things just by the grace of having lived there his whole life.
One of his best friends from college says one day Kris should go for mayor because he needs to try out running a campaign before he goes on to bigger and better things -- Kris would say Anoop is full of himself, but he probably is destined to run the next groundbreaking presidential campaign or something. Kris takes him up on it because he loves Magnolia despite hating it sometimes, and so he ends up with Anoop as an advisor he's pretty sure most candidates don't have, and his face gets plastered on a billboard, which is weird, and election day comes and then Kris is moving in to the office of the Mayor.
*
No matter how many times Anoop patiently explains it, Kris still isn't quite sure how Adam Lambert got to be here. He actually works for Rolling Stone, the Rolling Stone, and even if the Blossom Festival were going on right now, that still doesn't make any sense to him.
But, Anoop tells him, they had a piece planned on a new gay-interest play up on Broadway and got wind of the fuss it caused when the high school theatre teacher wanted to do an adaptation of it for the school's fall production. Kris caught some flack himself when he voiced support, declining to get directly involved but stating he thought it'd be a good project and show of tolerance for the students. Nationally, the issue warranted only a single play of Kris' statement on video, but here it still means he gets some pretty colorful mail every once in a while.
The play by itself is good enough, but the magazine sees a chance to give it a side of relevant politics, and that's why Adam Lambert is in Arkansas.
"So I'll tell Paula to send him in when he gets here in about five minutes," Anoop says.
"Wait, what?" Kris says. "Anoop, you gotta give me more warning than that."
Already half way out the door, Anoop stops for a second. "Relax. Here's the run down," he says. "He'll ask if you've seen the play, to which you say no but you respect the arts. He might ask about that teacher, to which you say you do not oversee the school district but reiterate that you support diversity. He'll ask about the backlash and you can say whatever you want as long as you don't call any names. There can't be much else. Seriously, you'll be fine."
Kris starts to doubt just how fine he'll be when Adam walks in not much later, all genuine smile and warm handshake, sleek clothes and glitter-lined eyes.
He says, "Mayor Allen, it's so good to finally meet you," even though Kris would bet his job that Adam didn't even know his name until he got the assignment, and then, "No, no, you can call me Adam. I'm not as important as you."
They start off with questions about the city, Adam asking him to remind him again how long he's been here and then what his favorite restaurant is, because surely they've got some great local places.
Adam's nothing but professional, yet within minutes Kris feels like he'd probably spill anything, and he tells himself this isn't good, this guy is too good. Kris knows he's right; Adam watches him intently when he answers, and his facts about Magnolia's volunteer services cannot be that fascinating, even if he's personally very proud of them, and it's offputting and thrilling all at once.
Gradually they shift to the questions about Kris' work and the theatre teacher and Kris happily answers all of those. He's taken off-guard, though, when Adam asks about Newsom's famous whether you like it or not and the Olson and Boies case, and Kris tries to decide what to say. Anoop would tell him to ignore the first part and say he defers to the courts on the second. Adam's looking at him, calm and waiting, head cocked and a little smiling.
"This is a lot more about politics than I thought it would be, to be honest," Kris says during a pause.
Adam shrugs. "You have the power here. You can cut me off whenever you want."
"No, it's fine," Kris says, and tries for a slightly neutral answer. "I think our gay community members are just as valuable and integral to the city as anyone could be, and I wish more people accepted that. They do everything just like everyone else, you know? I mean, we have same-sex couples raising families here, raising great kids. We pay taxes just like everyone else, don't w-- oh shit." His paced, prepared (yeah, so much for that) sentence falters. "They. I can't take that back, can I?"
His internal meltdown is not witnessed by Adam, who finishes his note, then after a moment, during which Kris is free to panic, looks up. "I'm guessing that was a major oops. I can change it to 'they,'" he offers.
Kris breathes in deep. "Yeah? I feel like a jerk for lying, but. You'd do that?"
Looking at him softly, Adam says, "Honey, you're defending queer kids in Arkansas, and I don't out anyone, especially not good people like you. This is Rolling Stone, here, not Out Magazine."
"Thanks," Kris says.
Adam waves it off. "Don't worry about it. Now, you were saying?"
Kris thinks fuck it, he can at least do this, and says, "I don't know what the courts will decide, but I hope eventually we'll come to a time when marriage isn't off limits to anyone. I don't think there's any room for hate or judgment in the world, only love. And that's on the record."
That's the money quote; he doesn't even know that much about journalism and what makes news big but he knows that much, knows he probably just ruined any future ambitions, and he happily gives it to Adam, because it's true.
*
"Let me take you out to dinner," Adam says, after it's wound down and he's closing his notebook (he'd come armed only with a couple pen and paper, and Kris had remarked that he thought he'd have some cooler gadgets that other reporters used; Adam had made a face and said "I'm not too good with technology," trailing off into a little laugh that was way too endearing). Kris starts to say, "I can't," but he cuts Kris off, adding, "Totally as a business thing. You can tell me all about your rebel mayorship. We're gonna make you a star."
Really, he should be saying no. But Katy's had someone for almost a year now, and his love for her used to be enough but it's not the same, never been the same, and Adam is gorgeous and funny and for some reason showing interest in him. So instead, Kris says, "Yeah, okay. That sounds great."
Adam beams and says, "Perfect. I'll schedule it with Paula," and when did he get to be on a first-name basis with Kris' staff?
She bounds in minutes later, sticking a bright pink heart-shaped sticky note on Kris' desk. He doesn't remember approving that particular purchase, but then Paula says "He's like a rock god, isn't he?" and Kris looks down and sees the time and place for dinner tomorrow night, a smiley face under it, and okay, Paula can have her neon fun-shaped sticky notes.
*
Adam actually keeps the conversation focused on the article, Kris' life before politics, lightly touching on the things that have gotten him in hot water.
"Do you ever think about running for another office?" he asks over dessert.
"What, like Governor?" Kris asks, and laughs a little. "No, I don't think that would turn out well for me."
Adam shrugs and cheerfully says, "You never know. You can't predict politics. Well, actually you can, but you can't really predict people, and it's people who will be voting."
Regardless of how optimistic Adam is, Kris is pretty sure it's out of the question. Also, running for Governor would probably really cut down on his chances of being able to just touch Adam forever, which he really wants to do right now; the thought makes him a little dizzy. That also might be a moot point because he's also pretty sure, now that they're minutes away from getting the check and Adam hasn't done anything more than what must be the normal level of flirting he showers everyone with, that he's misjudged the situation, and he feels kind of silly for ever taking a simple dinner invitation as something more.
So he spends the entire car ride convincing himself of this, and does not at all expect Adam to pull up to his hotel first, inviting him up. And he wasn't expecting, even if he thought about it, for Adam to seize him by his arms, just above where his sleeves are rolled up, and press him up against the wall.
He does, though, right now, and Kris grips Adam's shoulders tightly as Adam leans and says, "I know you've wanted this, baby, but I couldn't do it at the restaurant. Or your office, would you have liked that? Maybe when I'm not on the mag's dollar, when I'm here just for you," and then he kisses Kris' ear, then his jaw, then his mouth, licking inside, and Kris could probably die right now and be perfectly happy.
They don't make it to the bed, not the first time anyway, because Kris is ready to do whatever Adam wants, and Adam wants to be insistent, huffs "Fucking buttons" after he's got Kris' tie off and is working on his shirt, and Adam kisses him again until he's got them both out of their clothes, and again when he's pushing two fingers into Kris.
Adam apparently really likes to kiss, slow and thorough as he works his fingers, which is more than okay, and Kris is flushed all over by the time Adam turns him around and pushes in slowly, stroking his fingers along Kris' back as Kris gasps, because Adam's big and the stretch burns a little but then Adam's all the way in. He runs his hands down Kris' sides to his hips and starts to move with short, shallow thrusts, which turn into longer, deeper ones, and Kris could combust at any moment. "Adam, oh my god," Kris somehow manages, a little whiny with need, and Adam pulls Kris' hips back a little and brings his other hand around to stroke Kris, mouthing "C'mon" into Kris' shoulder, and he does.
*
Kris wakes up first, which is unusual because he normally sleeps in, but the light is just beginning to peak through the curtains when he gets out of the bed. He slips into the bathroom and rubs at his eyes.
He'd rather not leave, for many reasons; he'd stay in bed all day if he could, curled up around Adam, but he knows should get home for a change of clothes before he has to go back to the office. Kris tries not to think of the slight, very slight possibility that's he's going to see his face on the National Enquirer the next time he goes to the grocery store. Not that he thinks Adam would do that, but there's a reason they always get caught, maybe a maid who sees something and needs the cash or someone outside when he leaves.
Then he shakes his head. He's being ridiculous, and that's not going to happen, because sometimes things do go perfectly and it would be unfair if this wasn't one of those times. It does feel perfect, too; he wants to just slip back under the covers, identical to every other room but with someone entirely different under them, until they both wake up and see where it goes from there.
He watches Adam sleeping for a moment, then scribbles a note (Had to get back to work, it says, then You know where to find me and prays that isn't too hopeful), placing it on the table before he opens the door.
*
It's Anoop who brings it up again, changing the subject swiftly during their morning meeting.
"I think you could," Anoop says.
"So you don't think the fact that I'll be quoted in that interview as saying I support gay marriage might hurt anything?" Kris asks.
Anoop pauses. "Oh. Well, good going. But seriously, speaking of, Adam Lambert said he'd consider coming out here to be your press secretary if you decide to run." It's only been a few hours but Kris had been trying not to worry about what no visit or phone call had meant, and so his chest swells a little at the mere mention of Adam before he even processes Anoop's actual statement. "He sounded serious. I think he thinks you're cute," Anoop adds.
He's been worn down, in a good way, been thinking about the good he could do as Governor, and if they both are behind the idea it might be worth it.
Something shines out of the corner of his eye and he looks, spots a speck of glitter on the expanse of his desk. It could be from some of Paula's office supplies, who knows, but Kris thinks it could also be something else, maybe a reminder left on him from last night and sparkling eyes and a face pressed against his, and he's learned to have faith in little signs like that.
"Okay, we can look into it," Kris tells Anoop. Yeah, it could be worth it.
Pairing(s): Adam Lambert/Kris Allen
Rating: light R? idk. We have established I suck at ratings.
Summary: Written for the ontd_ai kink meme prompt "Kradam Political AU - Kris is the mayor of a small conservative town under fire for his progressive opinions (such as Gays being people and the universe being more than 6000 years old), Adam is a big city reporter coming to interview him. Eyefucking, sexytimes, etc. commence." Sorry about the lack of kink. Unless you count politicians, which I totes do. ALSO THIS WAS POSTED THERE FOREVER AGO BUT I JUST GOT AROUND TO EDITING + POSTING HERE, OOPS.
Notes:
1. I was actually in the process of writing a Governor!Kris political AU when this prompt was posted. I considered whether or not I should just re-work that, when I decided that instead I'd just do a prequel. It was fun to work backwards like that, and more stuff may be explained in the Governor!AU. So a sequel is already in progress, I just can't make any promises about when it will be finished.
2. Although I've visisted Arkansas, my knowledge of Magnolia is limited to Wikipedia, their city website, and a few other places. I picked it because I wanted some place that wasn't too small but wasn't too big either, likely to trend conservative but not so much that it was unbearable. If you happen to live in Magnolia and are like "wtf, this is all off," let's just say that this is actually Magnolia the Second, the metaphorical city offspring of The First, okay?
3. Kris' "slip-up" in this story was totally made by a real-life someone. Love for anyone who gets it. ♥
In Magnolia, you've got the city living with the small-town attitude. Sometimes that's too much for Kris, with the gossip and the neighbors who stop speaking to you after you stop going to church every Sunday (he's only had that happen once, even though it was because he taking a worship leader spot at a new place).
Other times it's a blessing, because mayors don't get elected based on ideology, they get elected on ideas and a little bit on connections, and Kris actually feels like he has a voice in things just by the grace of having lived there his whole life.
One of his best friends from college says one day Kris should go for mayor because he needs to try out running a campaign before he goes on to bigger and better things -- Kris would say Anoop is full of himself, but he probably is destined to run the next groundbreaking presidential campaign or something. Kris takes him up on it because he loves Magnolia despite hating it sometimes, and so he ends up with Anoop as an advisor he's pretty sure most candidates don't have, and his face gets plastered on a billboard, which is weird, and election day comes and then Kris is moving in to the office of the Mayor.
*
No matter how many times Anoop patiently explains it, Kris still isn't quite sure how Adam Lambert got to be here. He actually works for Rolling Stone, the Rolling Stone, and even if the Blossom Festival were going on right now, that still doesn't make any sense to him.
But, Anoop tells him, they had a piece planned on a new gay-interest play up on Broadway and got wind of the fuss it caused when the high school theatre teacher wanted to do an adaptation of it for the school's fall production. Kris caught some flack himself when he voiced support, declining to get directly involved but stating he thought it'd be a good project and show of tolerance for the students. Nationally, the issue warranted only a single play of Kris' statement on video, but here it still means he gets some pretty colorful mail every once in a while.
The play by itself is good enough, but the magazine sees a chance to give it a side of relevant politics, and that's why Adam Lambert is in Arkansas.
"So I'll tell Paula to send him in when he gets here in about five minutes," Anoop says.
"Wait, what?" Kris says. "Anoop, you gotta give me more warning than that."
Already half way out the door, Anoop stops for a second. "Relax. Here's the run down," he says. "He'll ask if you've seen the play, to which you say no but you respect the arts. He might ask about that teacher, to which you say you do not oversee the school district but reiterate that you support diversity. He'll ask about the backlash and you can say whatever you want as long as you don't call any names. There can't be much else. Seriously, you'll be fine."
Kris starts to doubt just how fine he'll be when Adam walks in not much later, all genuine smile and warm handshake, sleek clothes and glitter-lined eyes.
He says, "Mayor Allen, it's so good to finally meet you," even though Kris would bet his job that Adam didn't even know his name until he got the assignment, and then, "No, no, you can call me Adam. I'm not as important as you."
They start off with questions about the city, Adam asking him to remind him again how long he's been here and then what his favorite restaurant is, because surely they've got some great local places.
Adam's nothing but professional, yet within minutes Kris feels like he'd probably spill anything, and he tells himself this isn't good, this guy is too good. Kris knows he's right; Adam watches him intently when he answers, and his facts about Magnolia's volunteer services cannot be that fascinating, even if he's personally very proud of them, and it's offputting and thrilling all at once.
Gradually they shift to the questions about Kris' work and the theatre teacher and Kris happily answers all of those. He's taken off-guard, though, when Adam asks about Newsom's famous whether you like it or not and the Olson and Boies case, and Kris tries to decide what to say. Anoop would tell him to ignore the first part and say he defers to the courts on the second. Adam's looking at him, calm and waiting, head cocked and a little smiling.
"This is a lot more about politics than I thought it would be, to be honest," Kris says during a pause.
Adam shrugs. "You have the power here. You can cut me off whenever you want."
"No, it's fine," Kris says, and tries for a slightly neutral answer. "I think our gay community members are just as valuable and integral to the city as anyone could be, and I wish more people accepted that. They do everything just like everyone else, you know? I mean, we have same-sex couples raising families here, raising great kids. We pay taxes just like everyone else, don't w-- oh shit." His paced, prepared (yeah, so much for that) sentence falters. "They. I can't take that back, can I?"
His internal meltdown is not witnessed by Adam, who finishes his note, then after a moment, during which Kris is free to panic, looks up. "I'm guessing that was a major oops. I can change it to 'they,'" he offers.
Kris breathes in deep. "Yeah? I feel like a jerk for lying, but. You'd do that?"
Looking at him softly, Adam says, "Honey, you're defending queer kids in Arkansas, and I don't out anyone, especially not good people like you. This is Rolling Stone, here, not Out Magazine."
"Thanks," Kris says.
Adam waves it off. "Don't worry about it. Now, you were saying?"
Kris thinks fuck it, he can at least do this, and says, "I don't know what the courts will decide, but I hope eventually we'll come to a time when marriage isn't off limits to anyone. I don't think there's any room for hate or judgment in the world, only love. And that's on the record."
That's the money quote; he doesn't even know that much about journalism and what makes news big but he knows that much, knows he probably just ruined any future ambitions, and he happily gives it to Adam, because it's true.
*
"Let me take you out to dinner," Adam says, after it's wound down and he's closing his notebook (he'd come armed only with a couple pen and paper, and Kris had remarked that he thought he'd have some cooler gadgets that other reporters used; Adam had made a face and said "I'm not too good with technology," trailing off into a little laugh that was way too endearing). Kris starts to say, "I can't," but he cuts Kris off, adding, "Totally as a business thing. You can tell me all about your rebel mayorship. We're gonna make you a star."
Really, he should be saying no. But Katy's had someone for almost a year now, and his love for her used to be enough but it's not the same, never been the same, and Adam is gorgeous and funny and for some reason showing interest in him. So instead, Kris says, "Yeah, okay. That sounds great."
Adam beams and says, "Perfect. I'll schedule it with Paula," and when did he get to be on a first-name basis with Kris' staff?
She bounds in minutes later, sticking a bright pink heart-shaped sticky note on Kris' desk. He doesn't remember approving that particular purchase, but then Paula says "He's like a rock god, isn't he?" and Kris looks down and sees the time and place for dinner tomorrow night, a smiley face under it, and okay, Paula can have her neon fun-shaped sticky notes.
*
Adam actually keeps the conversation focused on the article, Kris' life before politics, lightly touching on the things that have gotten him in hot water.
"Do you ever think about running for another office?" he asks over dessert.
"What, like Governor?" Kris asks, and laughs a little. "No, I don't think that would turn out well for me."
Adam shrugs and cheerfully says, "You never know. You can't predict politics. Well, actually you can, but you can't really predict people, and it's people who will be voting."
Regardless of how optimistic Adam is, Kris is pretty sure it's out of the question. Also, running for Governor would probably really cut down on his chances of being able to just touch Adam forever, which he really wants to do right now; the thought makes him a little dizzy. That also might be a moot point because he's also pretty sure, now that they're minutes away from getting the check and Adam hasn't done anything more than what must be the normal level of flirting he showers everyone with, that he's misjudged the situation, and he feels kind of silly for ever taking a simple dinner invitation as something more.
So he spends the entire car ride convincing himself of this, and does not at all expect Adam to pull up to his hotel first, inviting him up. And he wasn't expecting, even if he thought about it, for Adam to seize him by his arms, just above where his sleeves are rolled up, and press him up against the wall.
He does, though, right now, and Kris grips Adam's shoulders tightly as Adam leans and says, "I know you've wanted this, baby, but I couldn't do it at the restaurant. Or your office, would you have liked that? Maybe when I'm not on the mag's dollar, when I'm here just for you," and then he kisses Kris' ear, then his jaw, then his mouth, licking inside, and Kris could probably die right now and be perfectly happy.
They don't make it to the bed, not the first time anyway, because Kris is ready to do whatever Adam wants, and Adam wants to be insistent, huffs "Fucking buttons" after he's got Kris' tie off and is working on his shirt, and Adam kisses him again until he's got them both out of their clothes, and again when he's pushing two fingers into Kris.
Adam apparently really likes to kiss, slow and thorough as he works his fingers, which is more than okay, and Kris is flushed all over by the time Adam turns him around and pushes in slowly, stroking his fingers along Kris' back as Kris gasps, because Adam's big and the stretch burns a little but then Adam's all the way in. He runs his hands down Kris' sides to his hips and starts to move with short, shallow thrusts, which turn into longer, deeper ones, and Kris could combust at any moment. "Adam, oh my god," Kris somehow manages, a little whiny with need, and Adam pulls Kris' hips back a little and brings his other hand around to stroke Kris, mouthing "C'mon" into Kris' shoulder, and he does.
*
Kris wakes up first, which is unusual because he normally sleeps in, but the light is just beginning to peak through the curtains when he gets out of the bed. He slips into the bathroom and rubs at his eyes.
He'd rather not leave, for many reasons; he'd stay in bed all day if he could, curled up around Adam, but he knows should get home for a change of clothes before he has to go back to the office. Kris tries not to think of the slight, very slight possibility that's he's going to see his face on the National Enquirer the next time he goes to the grocery store. Not that he thinks Adam would do that, but there's a reason they always get caught, maybe a maid who sees something and needs the cash or someone outside when he leaves.
Then he shakes his head. He's being ridiculous, and that's not going to happen, because sometimes things do go perfectly and it would be unfair if this wasn't one of those times. It does feel perfect, too; he wants to just slip back under the covers, identical to every other room but with someone entirely different under them, until they both wake up and see where it goes from there.
He watches Adam sleeping for a moment, then scribbles a note (Had to get back to work, it says, then You know where to find me and prays that isn't too hopeful), placing it on the table before he opens the door.
*
It's Anoop who brings it up again, changing the subject swiftly during their morning meeting.
"I think you could," Anoop says.
"So you don't think the fact that I'll be quoted in that interview as saying I support gay marriage might hurt anything?" Kris asks.
Anoop pauses. "Oh. Well, good going. But seriously, speaking of, Adam Lambert said he'd consider coming out here to be your press secretary if you decide to run." It's only been a few hours but Kris had been trying not to worry about what no visit or phone call had meant, and so his chest swells a little at the mere mention of Adam before he even processes Anoop's actual statement. "He sounded serious. I think he thinks you're cute," Anoop adds.
He's been worn down, in a good way, been thinking about the good he could do as Governor, and if they both are behind the idea it might be worth it.
Something shines out of the corner of his eye and he looks, spots a speck of glitter on the expanse of his desk. It could be from some of Paula's office supplies, who knows, but Kris thinks it could also be something else, maybe a reminder left on him from last night and sparkling eyes and a face pressed against his, and he's learned to have faith in little signs like that.
"Okay, we can look into it," Kris tells Anoop. Yeah, it could be worth it.