What if?
Title: What if?
Chapter: 1/1
Summary: "What if you and Katy hadn’t gone past being friends? What if you weren’t, as Adam put it, a hundred percent straight? What if Adam wasn’t with Drake? Do you think things would’ve been different between you and Adam?"
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: ....As far as I know, this isn't true. lol. .....damn.....XD
Beta: None. All mistakes are my own.
“Hi, I’m Kris Allen,” the shorter man said politely, holding out a hand.
Adam smiled at the shy eyes and cute, Southern accent as he shook the hand firmly, “Adam Lambert.” They unpacked their suitcases in silence, though Adam was grateful that it wasn’t one of the awkward ones he’d grown so accustomed to. His eyes rested with slight annoyance on a picture frame Kris had set by his bed of him a young blonde girl. Eyes flickering to Kris’ left hand, he noted with some small joy that there was no ring there. “So, is that your girlfriend?” Adam asked in a practiced casual tone.
“Who?” Kris asked, before his eyes followed Adam’s gaze to land on the frame. He laughed slightly, “No, no, that’s Katy. She’s my bets friend back home.”
“Oh really?” Adam asked with a teasing smile, “Seems like she’d be your type.”
Kris raised an eyebrow at him curiously, “You’ve known me all of five minutes, and you think you know what my type is?” he asked with a slight laugh. He crossed his arms and plopped onto his bed, “And what exactly is my type, Mr. Expert?”
Adam grinned in response and sat down on his own bed facing Kris. “Well, you seem like the typical clichéd Southern boy.” he held up a hand when Kris opened his mouth to protest, “Hear me out. You were raised in a small town, and I’m gonna guess raised in church,” he added, gesturing to the worn Bible that lay on the table in front of the picture frame. “So you sang in the choir. You probably play the banjo-”
“Guitar,” Kris corrected him before Adam could stop him.
Adam laughed and held up his hands in mock defeat. “Fine, the guitar. And the piano,” Kris nodded and Adam’s smile widened. “And probably something else that I doubt I’ve heard of.”
“Does a viola count?” Kris asked, shifting uncomfortably.
Adam frowned a bit, but shrugged, “I guess. I’ve heard of the name, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard anybody play one.” His eyes brightened and he smiled excitedly, “Will you play it for me?”
“Not on your life,” Kris laughed, shaking his heard. “I didn’t even bring it with me.”
Shaking his head, Adam sighed. “Ok, anyways, so you have a Southern accent, and probably graduated in a class of less than a hundred students. You probably live in a one-stop-light town, and you know how to ride a horse,” Adam continued, never giving Kris a moment between assumptions to correct him or tell him if he was right. “Oh, and your mom probably makes the best apple pie in town, or at least, you’ll claim she does. So, it’s obvious what your type is.” He paused dramatically, undeterred by the way Kris bit his lip in an effort not to laugh. “You fell in love with your high school sweetheart, who’s hair was naturally bleach blonde, should’ve gotten married less than a year ago, and in five years, you should be running around inside a white-picket fence with your two-point-five kids and a dog. And by all accounts, you should hate me,” Adam finished confidently.
“First off, you’re not even close,” Kris laughed, “And second, why should I hate you?”
“Well, your first point kind of ruins the second,” Adam said, chuckling slightly. “But if all my assumptions had been correct, then you would hate me, as the out-and-proud gay guy from LA, who spends his nights in random clubs and bars.”
“Doesn’t sound like any reason to hate you,” Kris said thoughtfully.
Adam just grinned and winked at him, “Hon, that’s the censored version.”
Kris laughed and shook his head, “Then maybe you’d hate me, for being the shy-and-completely-embarrassed-about-being-gay gay guy from a little town in Arkansas, who played as many gigs in bars as in churches.”
Adam perked up slightly at the new revelation. Of all the things this little Southern boy could’ve said, Adam definitely wasn’t expecting that. Not trusting himself enough to comment on that without freaking the boy out, though, Adam latched onto the other tidbit of information he’d missed. “Bars and churches? Aren’t those kind of opposite sides of the spectrum?”
“Gotta do what you gotta do to,” Kris said with a shrug, “I had to pay the bills once I moved out of my parents house.”
“Fair enough,” Adam conceded. He flashed a blinding smile at Kris, then turned back to finish unpacking for what he was sure would be one hell of a roller coaster.
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“Can you believe this?” Adam exclaimed brightly, practically bouncing up and down as he and Kris went back to their room. When Kris had shut the door, Adam grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, “We’re in the top ten! The top ten, Kris! We’re going on tour!”
Kris laughed, but didn’t feel the need to push Adam’s arms away from him. Instead, he grabbed onto Adam’s elbows just as excitedly, “I know, the tour’s gonna be amazing!”
Adam laughed and pulled Kris in closer, wrapping him in a bone-crushing hug. Kris grinned, burying his face into Adam’s shoulder, a place that had become comfortable for him as of late, though he’d never vocalize that to Adam. He felt Adam’s grip loosen, but just held on tighter, unwilling to release the older man. Adam seemed to catch on, because his arms tightened again ,and Kris felt more than heard Adam sigh against his hair.
“This is so surreal,” Kris muttered with a smile. He wasn’t sure if he was talking about this whole American idol experience, or being here in Adam’s arms, and he didn’t particularly want to think too much about it at the moment.
“I know,” Adam said softly. “It’s amazing.” Kris was pretty sure Adam wasn’t having the same dilemma, and was talking about the American idol experience, and definitely not about hugging Kris; but Kris let himself, just for a moment, entertain the thought that Adam was referring to the latter.
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“I can’t believe this is really it,” Kris said softly. “We’re really the final two.”
“You and me to the end, babe,” Adam said softly in his ear. His arms wrapped easily around Kris’ waist, and the smaller man leaned back against him. The a-little-more-than-friendly pet names, and the a-little-too-intimate touches, and the a-second-too-long stares had become so common and comfortable between the two, but neither wanted to be the one to take it a step further.
Adam stepped back as per usual when they heard footsteps, and smiled at Ryan, nodding when he told them that they had to be on stage in two minutes. Ryan walked away and Adam glanced back at Kris, who’d turned around so he was facing Adam. He gave Adam a small smile, “Good luck,” he said shyly.
Shaking his head, Adam just smiled and stepped closer to Kris, putting a hand on each of his shoulders. “We don’t need luck. We’re both going to have a great career, no matter who’s name Ryan announces tonight. Got it?”
Kris just smiled, not wanting to nod, scared that it would break the intense gaze. “You and me to the end,” Kris said softly. Before the last of his courage left him, his leaned up on his toes, to press his lips against Adam’s. Kris couldn’t stop the soft moan that erupted from his throat when Adam responded, kissing him back with the same fervor.
They finally broke apart, both gasping for breath. One of the stage guys flagged them down to tell them to get on stage and Adam nodded to him. He looked back and smiled at Kris again, “To the end,” he whispered, before closing the distance between them to press a chaste kiss against Kris’ lips.
Somehow, as they stood on the stage, arms around each other and waiting for Ryan’s announcement, Adam couldn’t care less who won. He glanced sideways at Kris and smiled. He won. No matter what. He’d already won. Kris smiled back at him shyly, and they held the gaze even as they heard Ryan’s voice, “And your 2009 American Idol is-”
“Kris! Kris?”
“Huh?” Kris blinked hard, snapping back to reality. He glanced to Katy, who’d been talking to him, and noted his left hand on her waist, his right clutching the American Idol trophy. He gave the reporter an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry. What was the question?”
The reporter didn’t seem to mind, and just smiled at him, pulling the microphone back to herself, “I said, what if things had been different? What if you and Katy hadn’t gone past being friends? What if you weren’t, as Adam put it, a hundred percent straight? What if Adam wasn’t with Drake? Do you think things would’ve been different between you and Adam?”
Kris gave the woman a wry smile and shrugged, “I don’t know. That’s a lot of what ifs.”