When the lines of right and wrong blur.
Title: When the lines of right and wrong blur
Rating: A light R, I guess? Definite sexual situations.
Pairing: Adam/Kris, Kris/Katy
Word Count: 1,684
Disclaimer: This is purely fiction and did not (to the best of my knowledge) happen. Adam and Kris belong to themselves and probably 19E.
Summary: Kris knows he has to do the right thing. The only problem is that 'right' has become so subjective.
Author's Note: My first Kradam, and it's definitely got more Katy than Adam but I strive for backstory and realism and all that fun crap that keeps us away from pretty gay boys. I'm big on angst and making Kris hurt because I think he's pretty when he's been knocked around a little. Is that sick? It's sick. Just read.
When he tells his mom, it's with butterflies in his stomach and eyes that keep sliding down to his hands. They're sitting at the table, a plane of wood between them, but it feels like something bigger. It feels like an ocean. He stumbles over his confession, watching her eyes go from concerned to confused to downright shocked. He gets the wide-eyed flash of surprise from his mother, along with the inability to keep an impassive expression until it settles. The words sound foreign, like he's not even sure how to pronounce them because he never thought he'd need to.
What might be only a kiss to some people is not only anything to Kris. One little kiss with Adam is earth shattering. It's betrayal.
His mother tries to make it seem like it's not so bad, it's no big deal, just pray and talk to Katy. Everyone slips. To err is human, to forgive divine. Her eyes turn sad when his confession grows to include a desire to do it again. "Oh, Kristopher," she clucks softly. "Oh, my baby boy. You have to make this right."
- - -
Making it right would be considerably easier if he knew what the right thing was. He crashes with his parents that night, assuring Katy's worried voice on the other end of the line that he's just tired. Long day, long flight. He'll see her tomorrow. He loves her.
That night, his prayers sound like he's reciting them inside a tin can.
- - -
The whole day is full of opportunities, but he doesn't tell her. He plays video games with his brother and tries very hard to keep from flinching when she touches him. His heart isn't in the way she leans against him and she starts to get the picture, but still he doesn't tell her. Mama Allen's eyes are following him every time he stands up or goes into another room like she's hoping that'll be the moment. His father has no idea what's going on and Kris doesn't have the heart to clue him in.
He exchanges some texts with Adam that break his heart. It's late and he has to get up for church in the morning, but Adam's in love with him and suddenly his world doesn't include a sense of time. Because maybe he's known for a while now, but it was deep down. So deep that dragging the realization up is almost painful and he has to squeeze his eyes shut so he doesn't start to cry.
There are choices to make and he's not sure what's right. All he knows is that the urge to tell Adam he's in love with him too doesn't feel all that wrong.
His old room is still there for the taking but he can't bring himself to tell Katy goodbye again. It's not fair and he knows it. The relief on his mother's face is evident and heartbreaking when he says goodnight, Katy's hand in his and his bag slung over his shoulder.
- - -
Their home is nice. Small, modest, something he hopes to pay off soon, but nice. He thinks that he'll leave her this place in the divorce.
He hates that he already knows there's going to be a divorce.
Her hair is golden and perfect as it tumbles free of the elastic band, falling over her tired shoulders as she stretches and gets ready for bed. Kris is already sitting on their bed, knowing that he's not the kind of man to keep a secret. Almost two full days have passed since his mouth had been desperately clinging to Adam's, and that's two days too many for holding in a secret.
When she asks what's wrong, Kris tells her quickly and simply. He rips off the band-aid. He watches the way a wound she didn't even know was there slices her perfect face.
"I kissed Adam."
It echoes. It's a movie moment where the camera pans out across the room, the house, the neighborhood, and the words are still audible. Time stops. His heart stops. He tries to use the heavy silence to explain but words fail. He tries to tell her that he's sorry, that he didn't expect it to happen. He tells her he loves her.
Katy cries. Slim, perfect shoulders slouch and features that he's had memorized since they were twelve crumple. He never meant for this to happen. He never meant to watch her heart break. He hates himself for hoping the tears stop soon.
- - -
She makes it clear that she thinks he's confused. That he just needs to find his way back to the Lord and to her. He'd tell her that he doesn't think homosexuality is a sin, but he knows adultery is so he picks his battles.
She asks for a separation. Give it until the end of tour. Re-evaluate.
He thinks all that'll accomplish is pushing him closer to Adam and pulling him farther away from her. But she wants him to think it over, and she thinks time will make him realize that he's making a mistake. She doesn't want to be with someone who wants another man. Once he gets over it, he'll go back to her.
They lay in bed together for a while, not sleeping, not talking. She starts to cry again, and she kisses him when he hovers over her to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
Small, insistent hands pull the shirt over his head and the nightgown from her body. She's soft and tastes vaguely salty, her fingers tugging into his hair, scraping down his back. Her whimpers are quiet and probably more sad than pleasured. It's been a while since her breasts have pressed against his chest like this, and there's an element of goodbye in the way he takes his time. She wants to go fast but he won't let her. He lays her flat and wrenches an orgasm from her with his lips and his tongue and his entire face before he's even inside her.
She touches his face, her whispers of 'please' asking for more than just his body. Their sex life is vanilla. It's very heterosexual Middle America, uncontroversial, pleasant. To someone of Adam's caliber, it might seem boring. But Kris has always liked the way she needs him on top. The way she needs the weight of his body. Sometimes she giggles when he makes a crazy face and he's always liked that too.
He makes love to his wife in a way he's not sure he'll ever be able to make love to Adam. He can't look her in the eye when he comes, not when there's another name in his mind. Another name in his heart.
They're still breathless when he curls up beside her, wrapping her in his arms and whispering over and over that he loves her. He's sorry.
They both know that he's not asking to be forgiven. They both know it wasn't a fluke. And their hearts both break in different ways, for different reasons.
- - -
They sit together in church. They hold hands and smile and occasionally stare lovingly at one another. No one sees that she drops his hand like it's burning her skin the second they're in the car.
- - -
He's headed back to LA. It's been days and he's cut himself off from everyone. He sleeps in his old bedroom after Katy politely asks him to leave their home. She's always polite, even as she's packing his toothbrush for him. He finally tells his father what he's done and he doesn't think he's ever seen that expression on his dad's face before. He can't read it. He doesn't really want to.
Eventually, his parents will be happy as long as he's happy. Kris believes that, even as they make hollow but cheerful conversation at the dinner table on his last night there. Right now they're still adjusting and he can't fault them for that. Katy's presence is palpably missed at the table. Her spot is empty and Kris wonders if one day Adam can fill it.
He picks up the phone and calls Adam from the airport. He's taking a late night flight back to LA where Adam already is, but it's not so late on the west coast. It goes straight to voice mail and Kris thinks about hanging up. The beep comes quickly and he stutters, looking around wildly for a bench to sit on as the silence he's leaving on the message grows.
"Adam, hi," he finally says, his weary body collapsing onto a metal bench just past the security checkpoint. He should probably move out of the way, people are trying to put their shoes back on all around him. He should probably move out of the way, someone might hear. "I'm uh... I'm at the airport. I'm sorry I haven't called in a few days. I needed some time to think, I guess. I'll be getting in at a really weird hour and it's... strange not to be sharing a bathroom. I can't believe all the room I'm going to have on the counter." He laughs weakly and realizes that at some point he's going to have to take off the wedding band that clinks against the side of the phone. Maybe he'll put it on a chain. "I was thinking about your offer to stay away until after tour so I can really think. But here's the thing. The thing is... I don't want you to stay away. Okay. Um. I have to go. I'll see you soon, okay?"
And he hangs up, wondering if Adam will even understand the message. His accent has gotten thicker. His voice has gotten sadder. The mess is already wearing him down. But he bought a bottle of nail polish earlier while he was waiting and his thumb is black again. He'll scratch it off before anyone other than Adam sees, but it helps.
He curls his thumb into his fist and it helps.
Rating: A light R, I guess? Definite sexual situations.
Pairing: Adam/Kris, Kris/Katy
Word Count: 1,684
Disclaimer: This is purely fiction and did not (to the best of my knowledge) happen. Adam and Kris belong to themselves and probably 19E.
Summary: Kris knows he has to do the right thing. The only problem is that 'right' has become so subjective.
Author's Note: My first Kradam, and it's definitely got more Katy than Adam but I strive for backstory and realism and all that fun crap that keeps us away from pretty gay boys. I'm big on angst and making Kris hurt because I think he's pretty when he's been knocked around a little. Is that sick? It's sick. Just read.
When he tells his mom, it's with butterflies in his stomach and eyes that keep sliding down to his hands. They're sitting at the table, a plane of wood between them, but it feels like something bigger. It feels like an ocean. He stumbles over his confession, watching her eyes go from concerned to confused to downright shocked. He gets the wide-eyed flash of surprise from his mother, along with the inability to keep an impassive expression until it settles. The words sound foreign, like he's not even sure how to pronounce them because he never thought he'd need to.
What might be only a kiss to some people is not only anything to Kris. One little kiss with Adam is earth shattering. It's betrayal.
His mother tries to make it seem like it's not so bad, it's no big deal, just pray and talk to Katy. Everyone slips. To err is human, to forgive divine. Her eyes turn sad when his confession grows to include a desire to do it again. "Oh, Kristopher," she clucks softly. "Oh, my baby boy. You have to make this right."
- - -
Making it right would be considerably easier if he knew what the right thing was. He crashes with his parents that night, assuring Katy's worried voice on the other end of the line that he's just tired. Long day, long flight. He'll see her tomorrow. He loves her.
That night, his prayers sound like he's reciting them inside a tin can.
- - -
The whole day is full of opportunities, but he doesn't tell her. He plays video games with his brother and tries very hard to keep from flinching when she touches him. His heart isn't in the way she leans against him and she starts to get the picture, but still he doesn't tell her. Mama Allen's eyes are following him every time he stands up or goes into another room like she's hoping that'll be the moment. His father has no idea what's going on and Kris doesn't have the heart to clue him in.
He exchanges some texts with Adam that break his heart. It's late and he has to get up for church in the morning, but Adam's in love with him and suddenly his world doesn't include a sense of time. Because maybe he's known for a while now, but it was deep down. So deep that dragging the realization up is almost painful and he has to squeeze his eyes shut so he doesn't start to cry.
There are choices to make and he's not sure what's right. All he knows is that the urge to tell Adam he's in love with him too doesn't feel all that wrong.
His old room is still there for the taking but he can't bring himself to tell Katy goodbye again. It's not fair and he knows it. The relief on his mother's face is evident and heartbreaking when he says goodnight, Katy's hand in his and his bag slung over his shoulder.
- - -
Their home is nice. Small, modest, something he hopes to pay off soon, but nice. He thinks that he'll leave her this place in the divorce.
He hates that he already knows there's going to be a divorce.
Her hair is golden and perfect as it tumbles free of the elastic band, falling over her tired shoulders as she stretches and gets ready for bed. Kris is already sitting on their bed, knowing that he's not the kind of man to keep a secret. Almost two full days have passed since his mouth had been desperately clinging to Adam's, and that's two days too many for holding in a secret.
When she asks what's wrong, Kris tells her quickly and simply. He rips off the band-aid. He watches the way a wound she didn't even know was there slices her perfect face.
"I kissed Adam."
It echoes. It's a movie moment where the camera pans out across the room, the house, the neighborhood, and the words are still audible. Time stops. His heart stops. He tries to use the heavy silence to explain but words fail. He tries to tell her that he's sorry, that he didn't expect it to happen. He tells her he loves her.
Katy cries. Slim, perfect shoulders slouch and features that he's had memorized since they were twelve crumple. He never meant for this to happen. He never meant to watch her heart break. He hates himself for hoping the tears stop soon.
- - -
She makes it clear that she thinks he's confused. That he just needs to find his way back to the Lord and to her. He'd tell her that he doesn't think homosexuality is a sin, but he knows adultery is so he picks his battles.
She asks for a separation. Give it until the end of tour. Re-evaluate.
He thinks all that'll accomplish is pushing him closer to Adam and pulling him farther away from her. But she wants him to think it over, and she thinks time will make him realize that he's making a mistake. She doesn't want to be with someone who wants another man. Once he gets over it, he'll go back to her.
They lay in bed together for a while, not sleeping, not talking. She starts to cry again, and she kisses him when he hovers over her to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
Small, insistent hands pull the shirt over his head and the nightgown from her body. She's soft and tastes vaguely salty, her fingers tugging into his hair, scraping down his back. Her whimpers are quiet and probably more sad than pleasured. It's been a while since her breasts have pressed against his chest like this, and there's an element of goodbye in the way he takes his time. She wants to go fast but he won't let her. He lays her flat and wrenches an orgasm from her with his lips and his tongue and his entire face before he's even inside her.
She touches his face, her whispers of 'please' asking for more than just his body. Their sex life is vanilla. It's very heterosexual Middle America, uncontroversial, pleasant. To someone of Adam's caliber, it might seem boring. But Kris has always liked the way she needs him on top. The way she needs the weight of his body. Sometimes she giggles when he makes a crazy face and he's always liked that too.
He makes love to his wife in a way he's not sure he'll ever be able to make love to Adam. He can't look her in the eye when he comes, not when there's another name in his mind. Another name in his heart.
They're still breathless when he curls up beside her, wrapping her in his arms and whispering over and over that he loves her. He's sorry.
They both know that he's not asking to be forgiven. They both know it wasn't a fluke. And their hearts both break in different ways, for different reasons.
- - -
They sit together in church. They hold hands and smile and occasionally stare lovingly at one another. No one sees that she drops his hand like it's burning her skin the second they're in the car.
- - -
He's headed back to LA. It's been days and he's cut himself off from everyone. He sleeps in his old bedroom after Katy politely asks him to leave their home. She's always polite, even as she's packing his toothbrush for him. He finally tells his father what he's done and he doesn't think he's ever seen that expression on his dad's face before. He can't read it. He doesn't really want to.
Eventually, his parents will be happy as long as he's happy. Kris believes that, even as they make hollow but cheerful conversation at the dinner table on his last night there. Right now they're still adjusting and he can't fault them for that. Katy's presence is palpably missed at the table. Her spot is empty and Kris wonders if one day Adam can fill it.
He picks up the phone and calls Adam from the airport. He's taking a late night flight back to LA where Adam already is, but it's not so late on the west coast. It goes straight to voice mail and Kris thinks about hanging up. The beep comes quickly and he stutters, looking around wildly for a bench to sit on as the silence he's leaving on the message grows.
"Adam, hi," he finally says, his weary body collapsing onto a metal bench just past the security checkpoint. He should probably move out of the way, people are trying to put their shoes back on all around him. He should probably move out of the way, someone might hear. "I'm uh... I'm at the airport. I'm sorry I haven't called in a few days. I needed some time to think, I guess. I'll be getting in at a really weird hour and it's... strange not to be sharing a bathroom. I can't believe all the room I'm going to have on the counter." He laughs weakly and realizes that at some point he's going to have to take off the wedding band that clinks against the side of the phone. Maybe he'll put it on a chain. "I was thinking about your offer to stay away until after tour so I can really think. But here's the thing. The thing is... I don't want you to stay away. Okay. Um. I have to go. I'll see you soon, okay?"
And he hangs up, wondering if Adam will even understand the message. His accent has gotten thicker. His voice has gotten sadder. The mess is already wearing him down. But he bought a bottle of nail polish earlier while he was waiting and his thumb is black again. He'll scratch it off before anyone other than Adam sees, but it helps.
He curls his thumb into his fist and it helps.