altruism - (3/?)
title - altruism
pairing - kris/adam
rating - r
warning - angsty
summary - Matt rolled his eyes. “Kris. Listen to yourself for maybe two seconds here, if it’s, you know, at all possible. You’re not going to tell Adam, your roommate and best friend in this house that you have been receiving threatening letters from his very own personal stalker, telling you that you’ve now become too close to Adam for his liking and he wants you out of the picture. Or else...”
notes - so sorry about the super long delay!! i tore my acl and had to have surgery, so now in recovery, i'm just catching up on everything (with a brand spanking new journal!!!) hope you can forgive me :((((
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Two Weeks and Six Days Later
It hadn't gotten any easier. Although, he honestly hadn't expected it to.
Matt was gone. The only ally he had had besides Adam. The only person he could've turned to when times got rough. The only one who knew his secret. Now, Kris had nothing.
Then, Allison - the optimism and cheerfulness in the house that Kris used as a distraction - was gone, leaving Kris shocked and mortified on the stage that night. After the horrendous critiques he had gotten that night before, he had packed his bags prematurely, trying to ignore Adam sitting on his bed silently watching, his eyes pleading with Kris to stop.
Oh yeah, that was the other thing.
He was pretty sure he was falling for his roommate.
After the night that Kris had passed out at the restaurant, Adam had started to hang around Kris even more, afraid that he was sick or something. Even though Kris was desperate to shake him off for Adam's own protection, he couldn't. He was too selfish. He loved being around him.
And as for the nightmares - they continued every single night. Only now, he could see the face clearly. But it still caused him to thrash and toss in his bed, muttering in his sleep. Adam had begged to Kris to tell him what was wrong - for his health, for the competition, for anything. But Kris wouldn't budge, and neither would the nightmares.
So Adam did the only thing he could. He continued sleeping in the same bed as Kris, comforting him until the nightmares would stop. Which definitely was not helping Kris in the 'even though I'm married, I think I'm falling in love with my gay roommate'.
The letters kept coming, more than once a week even. Ever since their meeting in person, they had become much personalized. Talking about how Brad was going hunt down Kris, then make Adam watch as he killed him. And how Adam wouldn't care enough to miss him, so Brad and Adam would celebrate Kris' death after with a rousing night of sex.
Or how Kris was a disgrace to the human race and especially calling himself a friend of Adam's because all he was a homophobe. Wearing that wedding ring was just a ploy, according to Brad, because Kris was too scared to admit that he was gay. He was scared of himself.
'you think you've got everyone fooled. just because of that wedding ring. it means nothing. because who would want to marry you, you pathetic piece of shit? do the smart thing and blow it. save yourself the humiliation as well as the heartbreak. because if you don't, you will regret it. i promise. what i could do to you is much worse than losing this worthless competition.'
Kris read that one, which had come right after Matt's elimination. He figured Brad must've been extremely pissed since Adam almost went home. He read it like always, tried to not let it affect him, and then tucked it away with the others.
Then, when Allison went home, all hell had broken loose. Kris was supposed to go home. He knew it. He had been expecting it, along with the rest of the whole world. When he didn't, he screwed everything up. Just like he always had. And Brad wasn't too fond of that. The note Kris had received after that week was especially threatening.
'when i get my hands on you, you'll be done for. your lifeless body will rot alone for weeks, no one even thinking about you. but before you die, i'll make you wish you were dead. i'll do things to you that will make you wish you were dead. no one will miss you because no one even cares that you're alive. so once and for all, get it through your fucking hillbilly skull. adam doesn't want you. he doesn't care for you like he does for me. you don't love him like i do. you're just making everyone else's life worse by continuing on living. give up. the money that i'm wiring to simon cowell to bias the audience against you is going to pay off eventually. and you better hope it's before the finale."
The results show was only in a few hours, and Kris was here reading that Brad was paying off Simon Cowell to sway the audience against him. He knew that Brad was crazy - well, actually like fucking insane - and if it meant that Adam would stay safe, he would bow out of the competition in a millisecond. But for some reason, in the pit of his stomach, Kris felt like Adam would do better if he stayed here.
Maybe this was it. Like last week, he once again thought that he was going to be on the bottom. There was no way he could ever see Adam go home. And Danny hadn't even been in the bottom yet. So that only left him. Maybe it was best that he left now...
"Hey there, cutie," Adam called out jokingly, walking into the room. Kris feigned a smile at him, shoving the letter into his top drawer, which was now beginning to overflow with crumpled papers.
"Excited about tonight?" Adam asked, laying down on Kris' bed. Kris shrugged, sitting down next to him on the bed.
Adam rolled his eyes annoyed. He grabbed onto the crook of Kris' elbow, yanking him backward. "What could possibly possess you not to be excited? You're on TV! Actually, now that I think of it, you've been all mopey before the results shows for the past couple weeks. Are you ever going to tell me what's going on?"
Kris chuckled, turning to face Adam. "Nope. You'll just have to suffer."
"You're a jerk, you know that?" Adam replied, moving closer to Kris on the bed. Close enough that Kris could feel his breath fan over his nose. Close enough that he could smell the spearmint on his breath. It made Kris close his eyes for a second, just enjoying the moment. Then, he remembered where he was and what was happening.
"Yeah, but you'll only have to put up with me for a couple more hours," Kris muttered, the smile dropping off his face.
Adam groaned. "Will you stop it? You're not going home. You didn't go home last week. You're not going this week either. I can just feel it," he mused.
"That'll be a pretty good trick, considering you're not going home and I doubt Danny is either," Kris said, closing his eyes. "So it'll just have to be a three-way tie. Face it, Adam. I'm as good as gone."
Adam watched Kris carefully, studying his features. He started to reach out a hand to touch him, but immediately pulled back, thankful that Kris had his eyes closed.
"If you go, I'm as good as gone too. I won't stay if you're not here," he said quietly. He sighed, pulling himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.
Slowly, Kris opened his eyes. Propping himself up on his elbows, he looked at Adam's back, the expression on his face a mixture of terror, confusion, and adoration. "What?" he whispered. He pulled himself up and sat next to Adam, still in disbelief of what his roommate had just said.
"I wouldn't want to win the title if you weren't in the finale with me. As the competition has progressed, it's helped me to realize that you're the only one that I would want to lose to. You're the only one that I would want to share the experience of a finale with. If - if it was Danny, I'd bow out before next week. Just give him the title," Adam replied, a shade of pink coming over his cheeks.
Kris was speechless. He opened his mouth to say something, but his mouth was so dry that he couldn't say anything.
"You - you have to understand, Kris...I - I can't do this without you anymore," Adam whispered, dropping his head.
"Adam..." Kris replied. "You couldn't - you wouldn't..."
"I would, Kris. That's the thing. I would," he stated, picking his head up to face Kris.
Kris swallowed, his breath catching in his throat. He wanted to say something to Adam, he desperately did, but he couldn't think of anything in response to that. He wanted to convince Adam out of it, tell him that he was nuts, that he was thinking stupidly.
But most of all, that this little southern boy named Kris Allen didn't and shouldn't matter to him. Because if he could convince him that, he'd save both of them: from Brad Bell, as well as from their own emotions.
He couldn't though, because his heart had taken over.
All through the time that he felt Adam take his hand in his own, Adam's feeling like a giant's around his, or when he felt their slowly bodies drawing closer together, or when he felt Adam's other hand gently resting on his jean clad thigh, his head was screaming that this was wrong, all wrong. The band around his finger was squeezing so tightly that he thought his finger was breaking.
But through it all, he couldn't find it within himself to say no. The part that wanted this - it was reveling in this and drowning out the miniscule part that was saying it was all wrong. It refused to let go of the exhilaration.
Even when the two of their faces became close enough that Kris felt Adam's lips brush lightly against his.
Sitting there, waiting and wondering what was going to happen next, or if he should even continue sitting there and not just shoot himself to save everyone else the work, Kris jumped when a cell phone rang. Adam shut his eyes and let out a breath, crestfallen. He pulled away, taking the phone out of his pocket and picking up.
"Hello? Oh, hey Brad. No, I was just....talking to Kris," Adam said into the phone, sounding slightly upset.
Kris ran his index finger over the spot on his lips where his and Adam's had met. He then stared at his finger, almost expecting it to go up in flames or something.
He was a horrible person. He lied to Adam. He was no longer in love with his wife. Now he had almost kissed Adam.
Yep, it was best for everyone if he was kicked off tonight.
_____________
But of course, nothing ever went the way that Kris wanted to. Here he was, still in the game with Adam. And Danny, unsuspecting Danny, was sent home as the victim of it all.
After attempting to drown himself in the shower, Kris got out, still pretty pissed at America for not sending him home. Why in the world did the like him so much? Over Danny Gokey? How in the world could they like the little cowboy over the Christian youth minister or whatever whose wife died?
He didn't even fucking care about the prize. All he wanted was to get out of this room. He didn't want to stay in this boxed room with Adam Lambert anymore.
It was worse than any torture that Brad Bell promise.
Adam was hanging upside down on his bed, eating Cheetos. Kris walked out of the bathroom in his boxers, took a look at him, and immediately burst out laughing.
"What?" Adam asked innocently, licked his orange fingers. His head was starting to turn red.
"Don't blame me when you're head explodes..." Kris muttered, walking over to his dresser.
"Oh, I would never. I just leave a big note that said 'Kris did it'," Adam told him.
Kris laughed. "Well, thank you." He pulled out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, quickly pulling them over his head. Adam swung back to rightside up, swaying back and forth a bit as he regained his balance.
As Kris sat down on his bed, toweling his hair, he felt the bed creak next to him. "Kris?"
"Yeah?" he responded, pulling his head out of the towel.
"Look...about earlier today. I crossed a line. Like majorly. I'm really sorry. It's just that-" Adam started bashfully,
"Hey, we were both there. Takes two to do it. Wasn't like you were holding me down or anything..." Kris muttered, a smile growing on his face. If only Adam knew how he really felt...
"No. But you're definitely giving me some ideas there..." Adam joked, raising an eyebrow playfully.
"Don't give me any ideas, Mr. Lambert," Kris warned, poking Adam hard in the shoulder. He chuckled, getting off the bed to go put his towel in the bathroom.
Before he could, though, Adam stopped him. "What I said about you, and me, and the finale...I really meant it all. You don't know how happy I am that it's you and I," he admitted, a blush coming on to his cheeks again.
"Me too, Adam. Me too," Kris responded truthfully, clutching the towel in his hand. He stood there for a moment, watching as Adam blushed and smiled embarrassedly.
Finally, Adam shook himself out of it. "Hey, you have a shirt I can borrow? I have Cheeto dust all over this one, and my laundry isn't back yet."
As he walked into the bathroom, Kris replied, "Sure. It'll be short on you, but yeah, check my dresser."
"You'll be able to get a lovely view of my tummy, then," Adam called before starting to laugh. Kris smiled shaking his head as he began to straighten up things in the bathroom. He looked into the mirror, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach.
How long was this charade with Brad going to last? To the finale? Through the tour? For the rest of his life? It was already too much on him. He was just counting down the days until it ended, even though he didn't know when that would be.
All he wanted was to be happy.
"Oh my god," he heard from the other room. Wondering what was up, he walked out and opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but his heart stopped as he saw Adam with the top drawer open, all of the letters strewn across his bed. Adam clutched a few of them in his hand, slowly reading the words on the paper. With each word read, his eyes became bigger, his hands started to shake more.
Slowly, he looked up at Kris, his expression unreadable. "So this is what's been bothering you the whole time?! I have some deranged stalker that's coming after you now?"
Kris shifted his weight uncomfortably on his feet. "I wanted to tell you. It - it was just that I wanted to protect you from it as well."
"Protect me?! Protect me? You couldn't even have the fucking decency to tell me I had a stalker! And, if you think about it, I'm not the one who even needs the protection!" Adam shouted, throwing his arms out. He looked at one of the letters, beginning to read it. "after i hunt you down, you sick son of bitch, i'm going to cut you up and bleed you dry, just like the disgusting southern pig you are.' Yeah, Kris. I'm definitely the one who needs the protection here."
"I know, I know. I just, I didn't want to upset you," Kris replied, running a hand through his hair.
Adam stared at him. He looked at the pile of letters, which had a great deal of papers in it. Shaking his head, he laughed.
"Well, sorry to have to let you know this, but you failed at that. Miserably." With that, he dropped the letter he was holding into the pile, pushed past Kris, and slammed the door to the bathroom, locking it behind him.
Kris slowly walked over to his bed. He stared at the pile, and then looked to the door. He couldn't stand this. He didn't want to see Adam in grief over him. Adam didn't need to be upset over him, worrying about this. All of this was his fault. This needed to end. Maybe it was his hormones, maybe it was sleep deprivation, but for the first time, he was feeling like that the letters may have truth behind them. Maybe there was something he could do about it...
He had to call Brad Bell. This was going to stop.
For Adam's sake.
pairing - kris/adam
rating - r
warning - angsty
summary - Matt rolled his eyes. “Kris. Listen to yourself for maybe two seconds here, if it’s, you know, at all possible. You’re not going to tell Adam, your roommate and best friend in this house that you have been receiving threatening letters from his very own personal stalker, telling you that you’ve now become too close to Adam for his liking and he wants you out of the picture. Or else...”
notes - so sorry about the super long delay!! i tore my acl and had to have surgery, so now in recovery, i'm just catching up on everything (with a brand spanking new journal!!!) hope you can forgive me :((((
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Two Weeks and Six Days Later
It hadn't gotten any easier. Although, he honestly hadn't expected it to.
Matt was gone. The only ally he had had besides Adam. The only person he could've turned to when times got rough. The only one who knew his secret. Now, Kris had nothing.
Then, Allison - the optimism and cheerfulness in the house that Kris used as a distraction - was gone, leaving Kris shocked and mortified on the stage that night. After the horrendous critiques he had gotten that night before, he had packed his bags prematurely, trying to ignore Adam sitting on his bed silently watching, his eyes pleading with Kris to stop.
Oh yeah, that was the other thing.
He was pretty sure he was falling for his roommate.
After the night that Kris had passed out at the restaurant, Adam had started to hang around Kris even more, afraid that he was sick or something. Even though Kris was desperate to shake him off for Adam's own protection, he couldn't. He was too selfish. He loved being around him.
And as for the nightmares - they continued every single night. Only now, he could see the face clearly. But it still caused him to thrash and toss in his bed, muttering in his sleep. Adam had begged to Kris to tell him what was wrong - for his health, for the competition, for anything. But Kris wouldn't budge, and neither would the nightmares.
So Adam did the only thing he could. He continued sleeping in the same bed as Kris, comforting him until the nightmares would stop. Which definitely was not helping Kris in the 'even though I'm married, I think I'm falling in love with my gay roommate'.
The letters kept coming, more than once a week even. Ever since their meeting in person, they had become much personalized. Talking about how Brad was going hunt down Kris, then make Adam watch as he killed him. And how Adam wouldn't care enough to miss him, so Brad and Adam would celebrate Kris' death after with a rousing night of sex.
Or how Kris was a disgrace to the human race and especially calling himself a friend of Adam's because all he was a homophobe. Wearing that wedding ring was just a ploy, according to Brad, because Kris was too scared to admit that he was gay. He was scared of himself.
'you think you've got everyone fooled. just because of that wedding ring. it means nothing. because who would want to marry you, you pathetic piece of shit? do the smart thing and blow it. save yourself the humiliation as well as the heartbreak. because if you don't, you will regret it. i promise. what i could do to you is much worse than losing this worthless competition.'
Kris read that one, which had come right after Matt's elimination. He figured Brad must've been extremely pissed since Adam almost went home. He read it like always, tried to not let it affect him, and then tucked it away with the others.
Then, when Allison went home, all hell had broken loose. Kris was supposed to go home. He knew it. He had been expecting it, along with the rest of the whole world. When he didn't, he screwed everything up. Just like he always had. And Brad wasn't too fond of that. The note Kris had received after that week was especially threatening.
'when i get my hands on you, you'll be done for. your lifeless body will rot alone for weeks, no one even thinking about you. but before you die, i'll make you wish you were dead. i'll do things to you that will make you wish you were dead. no one will miss you because no one even cares that you're alive. so once and for all, get it through your fucking hillbilly skull. adam doesn't want you. he doesn't care for you like he does for me. you don't love him like i do. you're just making everyone else's life worse by continuing on living. give up. the money that i'm wiring to simon cowell to bias the audience against you is going to pay off eventually. and you better hope it's before the finale."
The results show was only in a few hours, and Kris was here reading that Brad was paying off Simon Cowell to sway the audience against him. He knew that Brad was crazy - well, actually like fucking insane - and if it meant that Adam would stay safe, he would bow out of the competition in a millisecond. But for some reason, in the pit of his stomach, Kris felt like Adam would do better if he stayed here.
Maybe this was it. Like last week, he once again thought that he was going to be on the bottom. There was no way he could ever see Adam go home. And Danny hadn't even been in the bottom yet. So that only left him. Maybe it was best that he left now...
"Hey there, cutie," Adam called out jokingly, walking into the room. Kris feigned a smile at him, shoving the letter into his top drawer, which was now beginning to overflow with crumpled papers.
"Excited about tonight?" Adam asked, laying down on Kris' bed. Kris shrugged, sitting down next to him on the bed.
Adam rolled his eyes annoyed. He grabbed onto the crook of Kris' elbow, yanking him backward. "What could possibly possess you not to be excited? You're on TV! Actually, now that I think of it, you've been all mopey before the results shows for the past couple weeks. Are you ever going to tell me what's going on?"
Kris chuckled, turning to face Adam. "Nope. You'll just have to suffer."
"You're a jerk, you know that?" Adam replied, moving closer to Kris on the bed. Close enough that Kris could feel his breath fan over his nose. Close enough that he could smell the spearmint on his breath. It made Kris close his eyes for a second, just enjoying the moment. Then, he remembered where he was and what was happening.
"Yeah, but you'll only have to put up with me for a couple more hours," Kris muttered, the smile dropping off his face.
Adam groaned. "Will you stop it? You're not going home. You didn't go home last week. You're not going this week either. I can just feel it," he mused.
"That'll be a pretty good trick, considering you're not going home and I doubt Danny is either," Kris said, closing his eyes. "So it'll just have to be a three-way tie. Face it, Adam. I'm as good as gone."
Adam watched Kris carefully, studying his features. He started to reach out a hand to touch him, but immediately pulled back, thankful that Kris had his eyes closed.
"If you go, I'm as good as gone too. I won't stay if you're not here," he said quietly. He sighed, pulling himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.
Slowly, Kris opened his eyes. Propping himself up on his elbows, he looked at Adam's back, the expression on his face a mixture of terror, confusion, and adoration. "What?" he whispered. He pulled himself up and sat next to Adam, still in disbelief of what his roommate had just said.
"I wouldn't want to win the title if you weren't in the finale with me. As the competition has progressed, it's helped me to realize that you're the only one that I would want to lose to. You're the only one that I would want to share the experience of a finale with. If - if it was Danny, I'd bow out before next week. Just give him the title," Adam replied, a shade of pink coming over his cheeks.
Kris was speechless. He opened his mouth to say something, but his mouth was so dry that he couldn't say anything.
"You - you have to understand, Kris...I - I can't do this without you anymore," Adam whispered, dropping his head.
"Adam..." Kris replied. "You couldn't - you wouldn't..."
"I would, Kris. That's the thing. I would," he stated, picking his head up to face Kris.
Kris swallowed, his breath catching in his throat. He wanted to say something to Adam, he desperately did, but he couldn't think of anything in response to that. He wanted to convince Adam out of it, tell him that he was nuts, that he was thinking stupidly.
But most of all, that this little southern boy named Kris Allen didn't and shouldn't matter to him. Because if he could convince him that, he'd save both of them: from Brad Bell, as well as from their own emotions.
He couldn't though, because his heart had taken over.
All through the time that he felt Adam take his hand in his own, Adam's feeling like a giant's around his, or when he felt their slowly bodies drawing closer together, or when he felt Adam's other hand gently resting on his jean clad thigh, his head was screaming that this was wrong, all wrong. The band around his finger was squeezing so tightly that he thought his finger was breaking.
But through it all, he couldn't find it within himself to say no. The part that wanted this - it was reveling in this and drowning out the miniscule part that was saying it was all wrong. It refused to let go of the exhilaration.
Even when the two of their faces became close enough that Kris felt Adam's lips brush lightly against his.
Sitting there, waiting and wondering what was going to happen next, or if he should even continue sitting there and not just shoot himself to save everyone else the work, Kris jumped when a cell phone rang. Adam shut his eyes and let out a breath, crestfallen. He pulled away, taking the phone out of his pocket and picking up.
"Hello? Oh, hey Brad. No, I was just....talking to Kris," Adam said into the phone, sounding slightly upset.
Kris ran his index finger over the spot on his lips where his and Adam's had met. He then stared at his finger, almost expecting it to go up in flames or something.
He was a horrible person. He lied to Adam. He was no longer in love with his wife. Now he had almost kissed Adam.
Yep, it was best for everyone if he was kicked off tonight.
_____________
But of course, nothing ever went the way that Kris wanted to. Here he was, still in the game with Adam. And Danny, unsuspecting Danny, was sent home as the victim of it all.
After attempting to drown himself in the shower, Kris got out, still pretty pissed at America for not sending him home. Why in the world did the like him so much? Over Danny Gokey? How in the world could they like the little cowboy over the Christian youth minister or whatever whose wife died?
He didn't even fucking care about the prize. All he wanted was to get out of this room. He didn't want to stay in this boxed room with Adam Lambert anymore.
It was worse than any torture that Brad Bell promise.
Adam was hanging upside down on his bed, eating Cheetos. Kris walked out of the bathroom in his boxers, took a look at him, and immediately burst out laughing.
"What?" Adam asked innocently, licked his orange fingers. His head was starting to turn red.
"Don't blame me when you're head explodes..." Kris muttered, walking over to his dresser.
"Oh, I would never. I just leave a big note that said 'Kris did it'," Adam told him.
Kris laughed. "Well, thank you." He pulled out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, quickly pulling them over his head. Adam swung back to rightside up, swaying back and forth a bit as he regained his balance.
As Kris sat down on his bed, toweling his hair, he felt the bed creak next to him. "Kris?"
"Yeah?" he responded, pulling his head out of the towel.
"Look...about earlier today. I crossed a line. Like majorly. I'm really sorry. It's just that-" Adam started bashfully,
"Hey, we were both there. Takes two to do it. Wasn't like you were holding me down or anything..." Kris muttered, a smile growing on his face. If only Adam knew how he really felt...
"No. But you're definitely giving me some ideas there..." Adam joked, raising an eyebrow playfully.
"Don't give me any ideas, Mr. Lambert," Kris warned, poking Adam hard in the shoulder. He chuckled, getting off the bed to go put his towel in the bathroom.
Before he could, though, Adam stopped him. "What I said about you, and me, and the finale...I really meant it all. You don't know how happy I am that it's you and I," he admitted, a blush coming on to his cheeks again.
"Me too, Adam. Me too," Kris responded truthfully, clutching the towel in his hand. He stood there for a moment, watching as Adam blushed and smiled embarrassedly.
Finally, Adam shook himself out of it. "Hey, you have a shirt I can borrow? I have Cheeto dust all over this one, and my laundry isn't back yet."
As he walked into the bathroom, Kris replied, "Sure. It'll be short on you, but yeah, check my dresser."
"You'll be able to get a lovely view of my tummy, then," Adam called before starting to laugh. Kris smiled shaking his head as he began to straighten up things in the bathroom. He looked into the mirror, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach.
How long was this charade with Brad going to last? To the finale? Through the tour? For the rest of his life? It was already too much on him. He was just counting down the days until it ended, even though he didn't know when that would be.
All he wanted was to be happy.
"Oh my god," he heard from the other room. Wondering what was up, he walked out and opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but his heart stopped as he saw Adam with the top drawer open, all of the letters strewn across his bed. Adam clutched a few of them in his hand, slowly reading the words on the paper. With each word read, his eyes became bigger, his hands started to shake more.
Slowly, he looked up at Kris, his expression unreadable. "So this is what's been bothering you the whole time?! I have some deranged stalker that's coming after you now?"
Kris shifted his weight uncomfortably on his feet. "I wanted to tell you. It - it was just that I wanted to protect you from it as well."
"Protect me?! Protect me? You couldn't even have the fucking decency to tell me I had a stalker! And, if you think about it, I'm not the one who even needs the protection!" Adam shouted, throwing his arms out. He looked at one of the letters, beginning to read it. "after i hunt you down, you sick son of bitch, i'm going to cut you up and bleed you dry, just like the disgusting southern pig you are.' Yeah, Kris. I'm definitely the one who needs the protection here."
"I know, I know. I just, I didn't want to upset you," Kris replied, running a hand through his hair.
Adam stared at him. He looked at the pile of letters, which had a great deal of papers in it. Shaking his head, he laughed.
"Well, sorry to have to let you know this, but you failed at that. Miserably." With that, he dropped the letter he was holding into the pile, pushed past Kris, and slammed the door to the bathroom, locking it behind him.
Kris slowly walked over to his bed. He stared at the pile, and then looked to the door. He couldn't stand this. He didn't want to see Adam in grief over him. Adam didn't need to be upset over him, worrying about this. All of this was his fault. This needed to end. Maybe it was his hormones, maybe it was sleep deprivation, but for the first time, he was feeling like that the letters may have truth behind them. Maybe there was something he could do about it...
He had to call Brad Bell. This was going to stop.
For Adam's sake.