fic: SIX
Title: Six
Author: xrajahx
Rating: PG-13 (language & just ‘cause)
Character/Pairing: Kris/Adam friendship. But I guess… if you want to squint you could see it as more than that.
Summary: Six oneshots of bromance, set in defining moments of Kradam’s friendship. Some set in the future, prompted by my mom’s grim prediction for where Kris’ marriage might head, and the rest at five other times in Adam and Kris’ epic relationship. Out of order for artistic purposes.
P.S. - I don’t like Gokey. I’m admitting that now, so you know... since it becomes obvious as hell. Sorry if you like him. I don't kill him off or anything, at least.
And the whole goldendoodle part is in reference and honor of my favorite Election ‘08 fandom fic.
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I - THE IDOLS LIVE TOUR
“For reasons not specifically mentioned by either party, newly-crowned American Idol Kris Allen and his wife of mere months, Katy, are rumored to be falling on hard times. It is suspected that the stress of Kris’ sudden fame has hurt their marriage, for the two have separated and sources say they have not spoken in weeks. Meanwhile, speculations are still flying all over the internet about runner-up Adam Lambert’s sexuality, adding to the Idol-related media frenzy as the Top Ten of this season’s show continue to tour the nation...”
He found the crumpled-up tabloid in a ball beside one of Adam’s bags, and after skimming its contents, he proceeded to wad it up again and dispose of it in the wastebasket. Adam had been considerably and unusually morose as of late, and this discovery only made Kris ache to talk to his friend more.
His first mistake in trying to drum up a conversation was probably starting it with a joke.
Adam had been unusually quiet, even around Allison, which was very off-putting to the whole group. The tour bus was in almost complete silence. Adam, looking even more exhausted than he had five minutes before, mumbled something about a headache and flopped unceremoniously unto one of the couches. Kris remained in the main lounge of the tour bus with the others for a few minutes, staring unseeingly at the television, his thoughts on the strange behavior of his friend, who, eyes closed, back to them, was huddled against the cushions. Lil had insisted on watching one of those evening celebrity gossip shows, after hearing rumors that the wildly popular Idols Tour would be discussed.
The moment the screen flashed with the millionth speculative report about “Kris Allen’s relationship with his wife” and “Former contestant Adam Lambert’s sexuality”, a deadly silence settled over the room, accompanied by a cold chill in Kris’ chest. And before Anoop could reach the remote to idly press the “Channel” button, Adam had risen quietly and slunk away. Kris, unnerved by it all, especially by the way the confident singer’s feet dragged a bit across the floor as he walked, followed seconds later, comforting words on the tip of his tongue.
When he found Adam seated by the window in the back, an unreadable emotion etched in his face, the urge to coax a smile onto his friend’s freckled lips became too great.
His comment of “You know, Glambert, when Perez Hilton says dumb shit like this, you find it endearing. Why aren’t you out there laughing it off threatening to parade outside the news studio in heeled boots and a feather boa?.” naturally led to Adam making the second mistake, which was remaining silent, but acknowledging Kris’ presence. It was like a slap to the face for some reason, and Kris flinched. He was about to launch into a tirade of “Cheer the fuck up and get over it” but the instant he inhaled sharply and prepared to speak, Adam cut him off.
“No.” He said simply, voice cracking painfully.
“Ad-”
“No... I can’t. Leeches, Kris. It’s a nothing story being kept alive by fucking leeches. I’m refuse to boost its credibility by commenting on it, but I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t bother me at least a little bit.
“You think I don’t understand that?” Kris rolled his eyes and stepped a bit closer to Adam, examining his face. “The longer you wait to get on this, the greater the chance of it either fizzling out and being forgotten for awhile, or snowballing. But you shouldn’t have to explain anything, Adam. Just accept it. The media just needs something else to natter on about. Tag, you’re it, man. ”
“So, what would you have me do? You want me to announce to the press that I’m just a little bit not straight? That I’d rather kiss a man? Put all of those once-loves; put Brad unfairly into the media spotlight? I chose this, it’s mine to shoulder, why do you think I’ve kept my mouth shut? It’s true that I don’t have the same gift as you, Kris, and can’t make throwing my friends and family members under the bus a teaching moment.”
It’s a direct hit. Kris cringes, the venom of Adam referencing his recent separation from Katy stinging him. It’s less than a second before he slips back into calm, humble, and reasonable mode.
“Adam...” He counts to five slowly, mastering his anger before replying. “Just think about how this looks. I don’t care what you chose to do about this, but you can’t let it torture you like this. You have to admit, despite all your attempts to ignore it, it’s changing you. You’re not the same.”
“How this looks is that if I fuck this up and ruin my career just by being true to myself, I will never be able to live with it.”
“You’re letting them get to you, that’s what they want. Bottom line - if they hound you enough, eventually you’ll either crack completely or tell them want they want to hear. Either way they get a headline out of it. You’re being like their plaything right now.”
“No, Kris. The only thing I’m being is what I’ve always been. Me.” Adam snaps. “This isn’t a matter of national concern, this is personal and it’s nobody’s business but mine. I’m not going to speak out against myself for the sake of them actually focusing on my music and not who I want to kiss... and fuck it all: fuck Idol for putting me in this position, and fuck the stupid decision I made to audition.” Then he laughs, and it’s not his usual chuckle, it’s an ugly sound, like shards of glass scraping in his throat, a harsh rasp that startles Kris.
As sympathetic as he feels, there’s nothing but frustration in his voice, because for a moment, he can’t help but think Adam is being selfish. “I’m sorry, are you new to this world we live in? Have you been in a coma or something? There is no such thing as personal information about sexuality or relationships anymore, and I doubt there ever was in Hollywood! I know you’re not naïve, so this must be you being deliberately stubborn. It’s not like I don’t know, Adam - you should have expected this shit. Katy - the fighting, our problems - remember how many times they dragged that story through the mud and shit on it a few times? And they are still finding ways to talk about that through this whole thing with you! I’m not immune to it either, and it’s becoming obvious that to them, it’s not about the music unless there is nothing else for it to be about. And if you ask me, as much as I love music... that’s a pretty fucking empty life to live! So stop being this... this stranger to us, get over it, and don’t let it embarrass you!”
Poor choice of words. Suddenly, Adam has him literally backed into a wall, and his face is cold. Kris is somewhat frightened that there is a very real possibility that Adam, his best friend, might be about to punch his lights out.
“Fuck you, Allen, you think I care because this is embarrassing? I care because this damages you. You saw that shit on the Internet, how the tabs suggest I had something to do with you and Katy! It turns you into my token, my little prize stolen from her... and not what you are-the best friend I could’ve possibly had in this whole damn competition, the only person I wanted by my side in that finale. And if there is a possibility that anyone... ANYONE for even one second might call that relationship into question, then yes, the temptation to hold a fucking press conference about it all overwhelms me. Later, I’d regret everything and be properly miserable about how unfucking fair this all is, but right now I’m not going to pretend the statements about me seducing you away from your wife don’t bother me!”
Kris was unable to speak. How could he respond to that? Adam moved away, exhaling slowly and closing his eyes. He was so very tempted, in that instant, to smack him, as if the mere act of just slapping his fingers across his face would erase that uncharacteristic sadness from his eyes and wipe away that grim, thin line his lips had formed. But the air had become quite thin during their argument, and he felt a bit lightheaded. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs and stumbled over to Adam, reaching out and squeezing the taller man’s arm.
“I’m sorry, Adam. You know I didn’t mean all that.” And in a rush, guilt coiled in Kris’ stomach, as he suddenly hated himself for how angry he’d been with his friend. He recalled the times he’d been allowed to cry her name into his shoulder in weeping, and how Adam had told the reporters inquiring about her to fuck off that one night when they caught the Idols out after one of their shows, the countless hugs and ‘it’ll-be-okay’ mantras Adam had whispered in his ear, and the darkness he’d seen in Adam’s eyes when the story of Kris and Katy’s marital issues first hit prime time TV. A sudden calm enveloped him and he added, “You are my best friend.”
His voice cracked on the final few words and when Adam’s mouth turned upward in a smirk, Kris’ heart might have just possibly overflowed with love.
“I know. And I’m sorry.” Adam replied softly.
Wordlessly, they rejoined the others in the front of the bus, arms draped across each others’ shoulders.
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II - AFTER THE FINALE
After Danny Gokey had shocked them all by proving to be even more of a dumbass than they had previously suspected, after his video with Sarver exploded onto the MySpace scene, and formal, prepared statements of apology for ‘unknowingly’ offensive comments about loving a man in a way that is “right and godly” were surfacing, Adam started avoiding Kris. He knew what was going to happen, and he hated it.
He was dreading that breaking point, when they would experience a sharing of feelings and understanding - a big ugly confrontation about something stupid that somehow needed to be discussed - despite all desire to let it die, shrivel up, and disappear.
When it finally happened, it wasn’t what he expected at all.
It was backstage at Larry King Live, and suddenly Kris had a vice-like grip on his arm guiding him into an empty conference room.
“Don’t even think about it, Adam.” Kris growled to him, which took him aback.
“What?”
“You’re getting that empty look in your eyes lately, I saw it before that last commercial break.” His voice is gentle, but accusing. “Not always there, but don’t think I don’t know this stuff hurts you even a little bit. It’s nothing, alright? We... we both knew Gokey was an ass, and if he thinks God hates you, then I’d say let him go on not making sense because look who God let through to the finale.”
Adam laughed at him, a tiny chuckle deep in his throat. He leaned against the wall, a thoughtful look on his face, and he stowed whatever icy feelings toward Michael and Danny he’d felt into a locked box in the back of his mind.
He really never let himself consider how much he needed to hear those words, just like this, no public apology, no statement issued by others on the stupidity of it all... but from Kris, right then. There was something oddly comforting about just talking to Kris, face to face.
His first instinct was to deny the accusation that it even bothered him in the first place. Next, he considered joking about it, but he could find nothing to say in the section of his mind set aside for sarcastic humor. Yeah, even though he had nothing to with Gokey’s fucktardary, it sometimes privately bothered him in the deep recesses of his perception. And he knew he’d be left alone about his sexuality eventually. But it was Kris’ continual trust in him that was such solace when he knew as well as anyone that ‘eventually’ is indeterminate to the news media.
He finally settled on gentle acceptance of what was said. “I’m fine, honestly. I’ve come to terms that no matter what you or the meager percentage of the population that is remotely intelligent says, there’s going to be people who don’t support me for reasons beyond musical taste. People I’ve already probably pissed off a hundred different times since Ring of Fire, but people you and I will need to work with in life. And if it’s not this shit, it’ll be something else. Don’t worry about me, man... I’m a distraction you don’t need. Go make music, move on with your life. Let me do this.”
He had momentary flashes of everyone who had ever called him a faggot in that disgusted, haughty tone, and imagined slamming his ring-adorned knuckles into their noses. A tiny smile alighted upon his face.
That quickly changed when Kris’ palm whipped upside the back of his head, hard.
“Don’t do this, Adam. Let your martyr complex loose some other time, and not around me. I hate to play the rank card here, but I’m the American Idol. If you try to tell me to forget about you, I won’t accept it, and fuck-it-all... I’ll scrap the trophy and hand in my guitar. I don’t need you to tell me what I do and do not need. I never needed this title coming out this competition. But what I did need was you.”
With that, Kris exited the room, leaving Adam stunned to silence. A moment later, his head reappeared in the doorway, a triumphant grin on his face. “Hey, Adam... if this kind of drama queen shit is going to be a regular thing with you, I’d suggest acquiring some protective headgear, because that... felt pretty damn satisfying.”
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III - TOP 4 ELIMINATION NIGHT
“Fucking DANNY GOKEY???!!!” Adam’s voice was a controlled shriek.
Kris waved his arms frantically in a ‘shut-up-you-idiot-he’s-downstairs’ gesture. “Who said anything about fucking him? All I’m asking is that you attempt to act less angry around him and attempt to preserve at least a speck of your on-camera camaraderie.”
Adam didn’t reply then. He balled his hands into fists and sat down abruptly on his bed, the springs creaking angrily beneath him. Kris’ voice was bland in his own sadness and he couldn’t bring himself to look up at his roommate’s face. He focused on Adam’s hands instead, seeing that his blackened nails were practically cutting into the palms of his hands, the image of Allison’s tearstained face as she sang ‘Crybaby’ probably burning behind his most likely closed eyelids. “Don’t blame her leaving on him.” Kris pleaded quietly. “It’s not even worth the energy.”
Adam scoffed. “Is this about your whole ‘let’s-all-be-friends-and-skip-merrily-through-the-forest’ philosophy? Life doesn’t work like that, Kris. Not in Hollywood, anyway. Maybe we should all move to Conway and then we can kiss and make up?” The suggestion was dripping with anger and sarcasm, and Kris shuddered at the change in his friend... how the usually happy, humble Adam had disappeared so quickly.
Still not looking, still not looking... Kris didn’t want to see the look of despair on Adam’s face, because he knew it would dissolve the little self-control he had restraining his own sadness at their youngest competitor’s departure.
“This is about doing what’s best for you, me, and everyone. It’s a little old-fashioned, I know, to be civil... but I think you should give it a try. You can’t pin this all on Gokey, anyway.”
“Oh, I can’t? She didn’t deserve this.” Adam’s voice was low, now bereft of his earlier anger, and full of melancholy. “You know she was fucking brilliant last night on that stage, everyone knows it... she... didn’t d-deserve...”
Now Kris was most definitely looking at him, eyes fixed on Adam’s jawline, down which a single tear was slowly cascading. This sent a ripple of shock through him as he mentally traced the tear’s path back up to Adam’s glassy eyes, which were big and brimming with uncontrolled emotion. The eyeliner was starting to pool with the moisture forming at the corners of his lids.
And because it was the absolute worst moment for it, the untouched part of him that he had kept hidden for his own sanity during this whole experience, his emotions, suddenly decided to emerge.
He sat down beside Adam, tears threatening to fall from his own eyes. “I know, Adam... she didn’t deserve to go home. It’s going to be hard... I know she was like your sister, you two were very close, and it was so obvious to everyone. Look, I’m sorry about that. But don’t blame Danny for it; as much as I know there’s tension between you two, it’s not worth it.”
He dared to look into Adam’s eyes, and this time, he really believed he was about to see Adam Lambert begin to cry, for he could see the sadness boiling in his face, clouding his usually bright eyes.
“I’ll miss her a lot...” He managed to say, and then he shook his head as if he were ashamed at being so upset. “She’s so talented, I thought she had a chance at winning this whole thing... and I know it’s unfair to be mad at Danny for this, but you and I know what being the American Idol is supposed to be about and who he is... is he the best person for the job? Am I... or even you? She’s a raw talent, and a genuinely good person, and such a role model to so many girls out there... and she was so fucking calm about it. At seventeen, I’d have been bawling. And Danny thought it was him, he’s usually in pissy fourteen year-old girl rivalry mode... but he looked so scared, hell, I was scared. Scared I’d do something rash... and I still might.” Kris squeezed Adam’s shoulder, sighing. “I’ll hold a nice press conference about it afterward. Then after I’m disqualified, you can beat Danny’s ass at this and become the next American Idol.”
Adam’s voice was fake-cheerful by the end of his rant, but Kris heard the rough gravel deep inside, tinged with disappointment, and it was that that dug its way underneath his own rib cage and found his heart, making him want to say something else, but he failed to find words.
It didn’t matter, because then Adam abruptly stood up, the mattress shifting, and Kris wavering upon it as it shook.
He sat there silently pondering, ten seconds, twenty, thirty, forty... a full minute before he finally wrapped his mind around the fact that Allison Iraheta was gone.
“O-Okay… Adam …we, uh-" He swallowed a lump in his throat, noticing the soft blanket of quiet that had fallen over the mansion. A subject change was desperately needed. “Okay, then. We’ll need to start thinking about song choices for next week…”
“I’ve already picked.” Adam turned to him, his eyes blank now. It was eerie to Kris, that his face was neither sad nor bright, but a clean slate. “I’m singing Aerosmith.” And at that, he saw a small grin at the corner of Adam’s mouth.
Aerosmith.
Kris thought for a moment.
“Does this have anything to do with the fact that Gokey sang Aerosmith this week, and didn’t do, shall we say, brilliantly?” He inquired, allowing a careful teasing smile to split his cheeks.
“All part of the plan, Kris.” Adam told his friend seriously.
“Are you going to be okay?” Kris asked slowly, standing up and facing the other man.
“Yeah. I’ll miss Alli… a lot, but I’ll be fine.” His eyes are again trained elsewhere. Kris is somewhat relieved at this, because judging by the pain he still hears plainly in Adam’s voice, he is unsure of what he’d see if Adam looked at him, but certain he wouldn’t like it.
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IV - GRAND ‘OLE OPRY WEEK
Adam wasn’t exactly pleased with the theme this week.
Kris saw it in the contemplative, somewhat put-off look that crossed Adam’s face when the contestants found out that country music is what they’d all be singing the next week.
His roommate looked tired and unnerved for a split second, but after Kris blinked, there is a wide grin spreading across Adam’s face, letting his uncovered freckles dance upon his pale cheeks. Kris couldn’t help but chuckle as he saw the wheels turning in his new friend’s head.
Kris sailed through mostly unscathed, breezily managing to please Randy Travis and marginally impress the judges. But he let the confident smile decorating his face sink and disappear, when Adam’s ratings were not as enthusiastic, when Simon stated that viewers might be tossing their televisions out their windows. He’d found himself perplexed, but pleasantly so by Adam’s rendition of the Johnny Cash song, but was discouraged by the lack of recognition Adam was receiving for being the standout of the night and making the song his own.
It had not taken long for them to become close, he and Adam, and after long nights of trying to fall asleep and prolonged conversations, he’d quickly gotten to know the guy, and genuinely liked him. So he couldn’t help but worry a bit that his new friend might be plagued by viewers agreeing with Simon, and leave him... alone in that big room, with no one to talk to until his eyes slid shut.
Adam seemed unabashed, his unflappable confidence shining through when they went back to the mansion. He immediately flipped open his laptop and opened up a Google page, following what Kris found was routine. After some typing, a few clicks, and a scroll down the results page, Kris watched Adam’s face contort into a thoughtful, and slightly concerned look.
And stay that way.
Kris froze by his own bed, staring at Adam for a moment, before boldly asking, “What are they saying about tonight?”
As far as replying went, Adam didn’t even look like he wanted to for a split second. Then, he smiled nervously and read aloud, “Newsday - American Idol Does Country - Lambert Stuns with Version of Cash’s Ring of Fire.”
Kris didn’t say anything at first. Adam bit his lip.
“Don’t worry. You were great, I mean, look at that - the title of the article pinpoints your performance, and no one else’s. You’ll be fine.”
They didn’t discuss it for a few minutes, as Kris shuffled around, preparing himself to lie down and rest.
Then, Adam spoke up, his voice curious. “Was it too... different? Should I have waited until later in the competition to do something like this?”
“I liked it a lot because it was different, and sure, I bet it was a bit polarizing and yeah, maybe controversial... but not offensive. That’s bullshit.” Kris laughed. “I don’t think you should be nervous. You’ll be fine.” He repeated. After a thoughtful hum from Adam, Kris continued, “What do the comments on the article say?”
“Mmm... mixed reviews.” Adam’s eyes scanned the page slowly, as he read a considered every word. Suddenly, a light filled them, and he burst out laughing, an infectious sound that Kris was just starting to get used to.
“What?” Kris smiled at Adam, who was staring at the screen, laughs tumbling from his lips as he breathlessly pointed to whatever he was reading. Overcome with wonder, Kris asked, “What’s it say?”
Adam gulped then, catching his breath, but he barely kept a straight face as he read in a high-pitched, squeaky voice, “Comment from IDOLgirl09: I think the best performance of the night was by Kris Allen. Soooooo cute! You want to just squeeze him, he’s so adorable! He reminds me of a goldendoodle... except he’s even cuter!”
“A goldendoodle?!!!” Kris asked, as Adam started laughing again. Glad that Adam was distracted from being concerned about his own performance, but confused about this “IDOLgirl09”’s reaction to his, Kris grinned and grudgingly continued, “What is that? It sounds like some kind of... snack dessert. Like a Twinkie.”
This only made Adam laugh harder, and Kris rose, approaching his roommate, looking intensely at him in a way he hoped conveyed, “YOU’D-BETTER-TELL-ME-WHAT-THE-HELL-A-FREAKING -GOLDENDOODLE-IS-BEFORE-I-SOCK-YOU”.
After a moment, Adam explained, “It’s a cross between a poodle and golden retriever. Don’t you have those in Arkansas?” Kris glared at him and Adam merely smiled again. “They’re very fluffy, and yeah, pretty damn cute.”
Kris sighed dramatically. “Adam, I know it’s not entirely my choice, but if my fans are going to say I remind them of a dog, couldn’t they have tried a breed that won’t have the other contestants rolling around laughing at me?”
Adam nodded, still grinning. “Should’ve gone for the pit-bull. Suits you more. Everyone will be so intimidated; they’ll punch in your voting number for fear of being mauled.”
Kris couldn’t believe it, but he found himself chuckling as well, and moments later, settling beside Adam to read comments over his shoulder.
Dogs. He’s going to be my roommate for however long we’re both here and we’re talking about dogs and I can’t even mock him for knowing all about goldendoodles because I’m glad we’re talking about dogs, talking about dogs is the first real, laughter-filled, friend-like conversation we’ve had and how screwed up is that?
Kris let out a snort of laughter when Adam told him that he’d once considered getting a goldendoodle for a companion, and Adam ducked his chin down to hide a satisfied smile.
“Actually, if I ever do get one, maybe I’ll name him Kris,” His eyes were twinkling. “This girl might be on to something. Kris. Krissy. It’s cute.”
“Are you kidding me?” Kris withdrew a pillow from behind him and smacked Adam with it. “Adam, if you name your dog Kris … I’ll.. I-I don’t know.”
Adam stared at him, smirking. “You ever have pets, man?”
“Not really.” He replied genially. “When I was a kid, yeah. I like them, but I don’t have any now. And you’re changing the subject. DO NOT; I repeat, DO NOT, name your dog after me. I’ll resign from this competition in protest.”
“Haha, I’d obviously wait until this was all over, silly.” Adam told him, and Kris rolled his eyes at how obvious that was. “Unless you want to help me sneak Kris the goldendoodle into this place...”
“I’ll leave.” Kris stated flatly. “Hop on a bus, plane... who cares? But I’ll be gone.”
Adam sighed and shut his eyes, fluttering his eyelashes in mock-drama and pouting his lips. “No, Kris, don't. You can’t go. The show needs you too much, I need you too much, I can’t function without you, blah, blah, blah.”
When Kris scoffed and attempted to rise from the bed, pretending to be offended, Adam swiftly grabbed his arm.
“Wait, I’m not finished, Kristopher!” And Adam shifted, pouring on even more drama as he continued. “You’re all that is good in the world, what would I do without you? That you allow me in your most amazing presence is such an honor. My life on Idol would be gray and colorless, and lack golden fluffiness without you around... which is a terrible thing to contemplate. You are the wind beneath my wings, Kris, don’t you get it?!” He exclaimed. “Do you want me to sing about it? I will.”
He actually might. Kris thought, restraining his laughter. Quickly, Kris shushed his roommate. Then, after a few moments of silence, Adam’s smile filling the void, Kris snapped suddenly, “Wipe that stupid grin off your face, Mr. Lambert, or I may just respectfully have to tell you to go fuck yourself.”
Adam looked surprised at Kris’ use of the curse word, but not displeased. It only served to make that wicked smile grow bigger, and a few wholesome laughs to escape his mouth. “Respectfully?”
“With the utmost respect, of course.” Kris said sincerely, trying hard not to laugh himself.
Later that night, Adam plopped the laptop onto Kris’ stomach when the latter was sprawled out across the bed, watching the TV. “That,” he said, “Is a goldendoodle.” Kris peered at the picture, squinting. “See? That’s totally you, Kris. I don’t care what you say, one day, the two of us will sneak a goldendoodle into the mansion and name him Kris.”
As Kris looked up to glare at his friend, he found him smiling again, that contagious, bright grin.
“I can just see it: Kris, don’t bite me! Kris, don’t growl at Simon! Kris, don’t piss on Gokey’s shoes!” Adam was rambling.
Kris shook his head vigorously. “With the exception of maybe shouting about not taking a shit on thousand dollar carpet, this would change the ordinary day-to-day activities here, how?”
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V - A WEEK AFTER THE FINALE
“I just need to know what your plans are, Mr. Allen. The deadline to declare will come up on you fast … I’ll need your signature, on a contract.”
Kris clutched the phone tighter and squeezed his eyes shut. What his plans were? So strange that not too long ago he knew exactly what his plans were. Marry Katy, go be on American Idol for whatever short amount of time he was accepted, then go back to Conway where he belonged.
So funny how all three of those plans fell through.
The American Idol, what he’d been working towards his whole life, everything he ever wanted-still wanted, right? It wasn’t like he didn’t think he could do it, and deserved it; it was just that everyone hadn’t suspected this was the way it was going to end up.
He had a meeting this afternoon with a few producers. Had another one next week.
Then there would be the Idols tour, signing a contract, not looking stupid on the numerous talk shows he’d appear on...
“Kris?” Kris became vaguely aware that he was not on the phone with someone at 19E anymore, and had turned to find Adam standing in the doorway backstage at the Today Show.
Adam scrutinized his friend’s face for a minute, before rolling his eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Kris... do you want this, or not? Why do you always look so miserable when you’re not in front of a camera? You do want this. I know you do.”
“Uh, yes?” Kris offered him a weak smile. “If I say yes, will I find a smelly, dead tunafish in my mailbox?”
Adam scoffed, waving a hand in dismissal. “I swear, one time, and they never let you forget it.”
“I do want this.” Kris breathed, answering him seriously.
“Well then, you have my blessing. Now, go kick some ass for me.” Adam said laughing. “You’re on in five.”
“You’re serious?” Kris still couldn’t believe him.
“Yes, I’m serious. I’ll even write you a seriously long and devoted love letter to show I mean it if you want.” Adam smirked at him.
“How can you... I d-don’t...why?” Kris stuttered. “Why are you not disappointed? You lost, Adam. Why are you not acting like it?”
“Well, I-uh, decided to do what’s best for me, for you... and for everyone.” He laughed, and the sound was so welcome and warm to Kris that he could’ve hugged Adam right then. “It’s a little old-fashioned, to be civil-but I thought I’d give it a try. Besides, we both know you could beat the shit out of me if I even tried to hit you.” Adam smiled wholly at Kris.
“How can you even be real?” Kris said in awe. “You’re awesome. You know that, don’t you?” After a slight pause, “You’re sure you’re serious?” Kris teased.
“Yes, I’m serious, you idiot! Ask me again and, I swear, I’ll run into the studio right now and come out as a heterosexual to Matt Lauer!” And Adam threw his arms around the smaller man, pulling him to his chest in an embrace.
Kris wasn’t all too sure what was to come, but he thought, with a contented smile, that this is the sort of thing that made him think he’d be just fine.
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VI - AFTER THE IDOLS TOUR
When the last tour stop rolled by, Kris found himself utterly at a loss for how to move on. Sure, he was working on an album, becoming an artist in the industry, and that both excited and scared him. And to complicate things, Katy was sorry, all of a sudden, and wanted him to come back to Conway.
“She won’t ask you to outright, so I am...” Mrs. Allen’s voice had said over the phone. “I’m asking you, saying you should, I’m saying you should come home, Kris.”
What could he do?
Numbly, he remembered saying okay.
He got all his ducks in a row, briefed all his producers, made all the proper arrangements for travel to Arkansas, and did not rip off Gokey’s head when he offers his farewell pleasantries.
For some reason, when it came time to say goodbye to his friend and roommate, he felt strangely as if he should have been apologizing.
Adam, of course, saw it all in his face.
“Kris, stop. There’s no need. I understand. She’s your wife.”
It’s here that the realization hit him like a punch to the gut, Adam did understand, he knew what it means to be hurt and to love someone, and especially what it was like to have both happen at the same time.
Kris remembered hearing the catch in Adam’s throat when he talked about his past the night before the disco performances, when decades plus old pain was ripped open and raw for the audience.
Adam was human too, and he was vulnerable, and so, he was sympathetic.
It was, he marveled with a sad smile, exactly the kind of thing that won Kris over and made him love Adam, that special understanding he seemed to have about everything, and how their friendship made him feel warm and accepted even when all else failed and he was alone.
A few years ago, Kris Allen would never have given a man like Adam Lambert the chance to get to know him. At this moment, he had the rampant urge to go back in time and kick that version of himself’s ass. And, he thought painfully, as long as he was in control of all space and time, he could really fix things between him and Katy.
Fuck. He could barely look at Adam. He couldn’t - because all of it, every cliché Kris knew of to possibly fit this situation was true. Gravity seemed to fall out from under him and tears he’d held inside since the call from his mom welled up in his eyes. He blinked them back, not knowing what to do next.
He outstretched out his hand, attempting to seek refuge in settling for stifling formalities, waiting for his friend to clasp it.
“I’m so glad I got to know you, Adam Lambert.” He said sincerely, Adam’s name hitching in his throat.
But the taller man refused to stick to the script, as usual. Adam practically yanked him into a hug, an all-encompassing embrace that Kris melted into gratefully. Adam held Kris tight, one hand on the base of his neck, the other at the small of his back.
At first, he went tense and his arms dangled limply at his sides, but then Kris leaned in, his own arms wrapping around Adam, indulging in a single choked sob before pulling away.
Adam’s eyes were just as bright as ever, and he smiled in a way that almost broke him. He frantically scrubbed at his face, willing himself not to lose it completely.
“Sorry, sorry.” He mumbled quietly. “I-I’m just... such a mess right now. Just wish I had more time, you know?”
He was not sure if he meant more time with Adam or more time to prepare for going back to Katy.
Adam gave him a tiny smile. “I never regretted asking you to be my roommate, Kris Allen.”
Kris gulped, trying to work his words around the lump in his throat. “I never regretting accepting.”
That should be a lie, Kris thought. All the battles-with each other, with the press, with the opposition, and with the world.
But it wasn’t a lie, not in the least, to the two of them. Right now, Kris looked at Adam and all he saw was the good.
He met Adam when they bonded during the rounds before the Top 13.
He came to love Adam throughout the months of rooming with, singing with, and competing against him. There were moments of anguish, triumph, stress, and joy.
And now, he knew, he’d do it all again without a second thought.
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Sorry if the alignment got messed up, my computer's a bench. (Thanks Kris! Bench is the new "biatch") ;)
Comments? Thoughts?
Author: xrajahx
Rating: PG-13 (language & just ‘cause)
Character/Pairing: Kris/Adam friendship. But I guess… if you want to squint you could see it as more than that.
Summary: Six oneshots of bromance, set in defining moments of Kradam’s friendship. Some set in the future, prompted by my mom’s grim prediction for where Kris’ marriage might head, and the rest at five other times in Adam and Kris’ epic relationship. Out of order for artistic purposes.
P.S. - I don’t like Gokey. I’m admitting that now, so you know... since it becomes obvious as hell. Sorry if you like him. I don't kill him off or anything, at least.
And the whole goldendoodle part is in reference and honor of my favorite Election ‘08 fandom fic.
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I - THE IDOLS LIVE TOUR
“For reasons not specifically mentioned by either party, newly-crowned American Idol Kris Allen and his wife of mere months, Katy, are rumored to be falling on hard times. It is suspected that the stress of Kris’ sudden fame has hurt their marriage, for the two have separated and sources say they have not spoken in weeks. Meanwhile, speculations are still flying all over the internet about runner-up Adam Lambert’s sexuality, adding to the Idol-related media frenzy as the Top Ten of this season’s show continue to tour the nation...”
He found the crumpled-up tabloid in a ball beside one of Adam’s bags, and after skimming its contents, he proceeded to wad it up again and dispose of it in the wastebasket. Adam had been considerably and unusually morose as of late, and this discovery only made Kris ache to talk to his friend more.
His first mistake in trying to drum up a conversation was probably starting it with a joke.
Adam had been unusually quiet, even around Allison, which was very off-putting to the whole group. The tour bus was in almost complete silence. Adam, looking even more exhausted than he had five minutes before, mumbled something about a headache and flopped unceremoniously unto one of the couches. Kris remained in the main lounge of the tour bus with the others for a few minutes, staring unseeingly at the television, his thoughts on the strange behavior of his friend, who, eyes closed, back to them, was huddled against the cushions. Lil had insisted on watching one of those evening celebrity gossip shows, after hearing rumors that the wildly popular Idols Tour would be discussed.
The moment the screen flashed with the millionth speculative report about “Kris Allen’s relationship with his wife” and “Former contestant Adam Lambert’s sexuality”, a deadly silence settled over the room, accompanied by a cold chill in Kris’ chest. And before Anoop could reach the remote to idly press the “Channel” button, Adam had risen quietly and slunk away. Kris, unnerved by it all, especially by the way the confident singer’s feet dragged a bit across the floor as he walked, followed seconds later, comforting words on the tip of his tongue.
When he found Adam seated by the window in the back, an unreadable emotion etched in his face, the urge to coax a smile onto his friend’s freckled lips became too great.
His comment of “You know, Glambert, when Perez Hilton says dumb shit like this, you find it endearing. Why aren’t you out there laughing it off threatening to parade outside the news studio in heeled boots and a feather boa?.” naturally led to Adam making the second mistake, which was remaining silent, but acknowledging Kris’ presence. It was like a slap to the face for some reason, and Kris flinched. He was about to launch into a tirade of “Cheer the fuck up and get over it” but the instant he inhaled sharply and prepared to speak, Adam cut him off.
“No.” He said simply, voice cracking painfully.
“Ad-”
“No... I can’t. Leeches, Kris. It’s a nothing story being kept alive by fucking leeches. I’m refuse to boost its credibility by commenting on it, but I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t bother me at least a little bit.
“You think I don’t understand that?” Kris rolled his eyes and stepped a bit closer to Adam, examining his face. “The longer you wait to get on this, the greater the chance of it either fizzling out and being forgotten for awhile, or snowballing. But you shouldn’t have to explain anything, Adam. Just accept it. The media just needs something else to natter on about. Tag, you’re it, man. ”
“So, what would you have me do? You want me to announce to the press that I’m just a little bit not straight? That I’d rather kiss a man? Put all of those once-loves; put Brad unfairly into the media spotlight? I chose this, it’s mine to shoulder, why do you think I’ve kept my mouth shut? It’s true that I don’t have the same gift as you, Kris, and can’t make throwing my friends and family members under the bus a teaching moment.”
It’s a direct hit. Kris cringes, the venom of Adam referencing his recent separation from Katy stinging him. It’s less than a second before he slips back into calm, humble, and reasonable mode.
“Adam...” He counts to five slowly, mastering his anger before replying. “Just think about how this looks. I don’t care what you chose to do about this, but you can’t let it torture you like this. You have to admit, despite all your attempts to ignore it, it’s changing you. You’re not the same.”
“How this looks is that if I fuck this up and ruin my career just by being true to myself, I will never be able to live with it.”
“You’re letting them get to you, that’s what they want. Bottom line - if they hound you enough, eventually you’ll either crack completely or tell them want they want to hear. Either way they get a headline out of it. You’re being like their plaything right now.”
“No, Kris. The only thing I’m being is what I’ve always been. Me.” Adam snaps. “This isn’t a matter of national concern, this is personal and it’s nobody’s business but mine. I’m not going to speak out against myself for the sake of them actually focusing on my music and not who I want to kiss... and fuck it all: fuck Idol for putting me in this position, and fuck the stupid decision I made to audition.” Then he laughs, and it’s not his usual chuckle, it’s an ugly sound, like shards of glass scraping in his throat, a harsh rasp that startles Kris.
As sympathetic as he feels, there’s nothing but frustration in his voice, because for a moment, he can’t help but think Adam is being selfish. “I’m sorry, are you new to this world we live in? Have you been in a coma or something? There is no such thing as personal information about sexuality or relationships anymore, and I doubt there ever was in Hollywood! I know you’re not naïve, so this must be you being deliberately stubborn. It’s not like I don’t know, Adam - you should have expected this shit. Katy - the fighting, our problems - remember how many times they dragged that story through the mud and shit on it a few times? And they are still finding ways to talk about that through this whole thing with you! I’m not immune to it either, and it’s becoming obvious that to them, it’s not about the music unless there is nothing else for it to be about. And if you ask me, as much as I love music... that’s a pretty fucking empty life to live! So stop being this... this stranger to us, get over it, and don’t let it embarrass you!”
Poor choice of words. Suddenly, Adam has him literally backed into a wall, and his face is cold. Kris is somewhat frightened that there is a very real possibility that Adam, his best friend, might be about to punch his lights out.
“Fuck you, Allen, you think I care because this is embarrassing? I care because this damages you. You saw that shit on the Internet, how the tabs suggest I had something to do with you and Katy! It turns you into my token, my little prize stolen from her... and not what you are-the best friend I could’ve possibly had in this whole damn competition, the only person I wanted by my side in that finale. And if there is a possibility that anyone... ANYONE for even one second might call that relationship into question, then yes, the temptation to hold a fucking press conference about it all overwhelms me. Later, I’d regret everything and be properly miserable about how unfucking fair this all is, but right now I’m not going to pretend the statements about me seducing you away from your wife don’t bother me!”
Kris was unable to speak. How could he respond to that? Adam moved away, exhaling slowly and closing his eyes. He was so very tempted, in that instant, to smack him, as if the mere act of just slapping his fingers across his face would erase that uncharacteristic sadness from his eyes and wipe away that grim, thin line his lips had formed. But the air had become quite thin during their argument, and he felt a bit lightheaded. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs and stumbled over to Adam, reaching out and squeezing the taller man’s arm.
“I’m sorry, Adam. You know I didn’t mean all that.” And in a rush, guilt coiled in Kris’ stomach, as he suddenly hated himself for how angry he’d been with his friend. He recalled the times he’d been allowed to cry her name into his shoulder in weeping, and how Adam had told the reporters inquiring about her to fuck off that one night when they caught the Idols out after one of their shows, the countless hugs and ‘it’ll-be-okay’ mantras Adam had whispered in his ear, and the darkness he’d seen in Adam’s eyes when the story of Kris and Katy’s marital issues first hit prime time TV. A sudden calm enveloped him and he added, “You are my best friend.”
His voice cracked on the final few words and when Adam’s mouth turned upward in a smirk, Kris’ heart might have just possibly overflowed with love.
“I know. And I’m sorry.” Adam replied softly.
Wordlessly, they rejoined the others in the front of the bus, arms draped across each others’ shoulders.
----------------------
II - AFTER THE FINALE
After Danny Gokey had shocked them all by proving to be even more of a dumbass than they had previously suspected, after his video with Sarver exploded onto the MySpace scene, and formal, prepared statements of apology for ‘unknowingly’ offensive comments about loving a man in a way that is “right and godly” were surfacing, Adam started avoiding Kris. He knew what was going to happen, and he hated it.
He was dreading that breaking point, when they would experience a sharing of feelings and understanding - a big ugly confrontation about something stupid that somehow needed to be discussed - despite all desire to let it die, shrivel up, and disappear.
When it finally happened, it wasn’t what he expected at all.
It was backstage at Larry King Live, and suddenly Kris had a vice-like grip on his arm guiding him into an empty conference room.
“Don’t even think about it, Adam.” Kris growled to him, which took him aback.
“What?”
“You’re getting that empty look in your eyes lately, I saw it before that last commercial break.” His voice is gentle, but accusing. “Not always there, but don’t think I don’t know this stuff hurts you even a little bit. It’s nothing, alright? We... we both knew Gokey was an ass, and if he thinks God hates you, then I’d say let him go on not making sense because look who God let through to the finale.”
Adam laughed at him, a tiny chuckle deep in his throat. He leaned against the wall, a thoughtful look on his face, and he stowed whatever icy feelings toward Michael and Danny he’d felt into a locked box in the back of his mind.
He really never let himself consider how much he needed to hear those words, just like this, no public apology, no statement issued by others on the stupidity of it all... but from Kris, right then. There was something oddly comforting about just talking to Kris, face to face.
His first instinct was to deny the accusation that it even bothered him in the first place. Next, he considered joking about it, but he could find nothing to say in the section of his mind set aside for sarcastic humor. Yeah, even though he had nothing to with Gokey’s fucktardary, it sometimes privately bothered him in the deep recesses of his perception. And he knew he’d be left alone about his sexuality eventually. But it was Kris’ continual trust in him that was such solace when he knew as well as anyone that ‘eventually’ is indeterminate to the news media.
He finally settled on gentle acceptance of what was said. “I’m fine, honestly. I’ve come to terms that no matter what you or the meager percentage of the population that is remotely intelligent says, there’s going to be people who don’t support me for reasons beyond musical taste. People I’ve already probably pissed off a hundred different times since Ring of Fire, but people you and I will need to work with in life. And if it’s not this shit, it’ll be something else. Don’t worry about me, man... I’m a distraction you don’t need. Go make music, move on with your life. Let me do this.”
He had momentary flashes of everyone who had ever called him a faggot in that disgusted, haughty tone, and imagined slamming his ring-adorned knuckles into their noses. A tiny smile alighted upon his face.
That quickly changed when Kris’ palm whipped upside the back of his head, hard.
“Don’t do this, Adam. Let your martyr complex loose some other time, and not around me. I hate to play the rank card here, but I’m the American Idol. If you try to tell me to forget about you, I won’t accept it, and fuck-it-all... I’ll scrap the trophy and hand in my guitar. I don’t need you to tell me what I do and do not need. I never needed this title coming out this competition. But what I did need was you.”
With that, Kris exited the room, leaving Adam stunned to silence. A moment later, his head reappeared in the doorway, a triumphant grin on his face. “Hey, Adam... if this kind of drama queen shit is going to be a regular thing with you, I’d suggest acquiring some protective headgear, because that... felt pretty damn satisfying.”
--------------------------------
III - TOP 4 ELIMINATION NIGHT
“Fucking DANNY GOKEY???!!!” Adam’s voice was a controlled shriek.
Kris waved his arms frantically in a ‘shut-up-you-idiot-he’s-downstairs’ gesture. “Who said anything about fucking him? All I’m asking is that you attempt to act less angry around him and attempt to preserve at least a speck of your on-camera camaraderie.”
Adam didn’t reply then. He balled his hands into fists and sat down abruptly on his bed, the springs creaking angrily beneath him. Kris’ voice was bland in his own sadness and he couldn’t bring himself to look up at his roommate’s face. He focused on Adam’s hands instead, seeing that his blackened nails were practically cutting into the palms of his hands, the image of Allison’s tearstained face as she sang ‘Crybaby’ probably burning behind his most likely closed eyelids. “Don’t blame her leaving on him.” Kris pleaded quietly. “It’s not even worth the energy.”
Adam scoffed. “Is this about your whole ‘let’s-all-be-friends-and-skip-merrily-through-the-forest’ philosophy? Life doesn’t work like that, Kris. Not in Hollywood, anyway. Maybe we should all move to Conway and then we can kiss and make up?” The suggestion was dripping with anger and sarcasm, and Kris shuddered at the change in his friend... how the usually happy, humble Adam had disappeared so quickly.
Still not looking, still not looking... Kris didn’t want to see the look of despair on Adam’s face, because he knew it would dissolve the little self-control he had restraining his own sadness at their youngest competitor’s departure.
“This is about doing what’s best for you, me, and everyone. It’s a little old-fashioned, I know, to be civil... but I think you should give it a try. You can’t pin this all on Gokey, anyway.”
“Oh, I can’t? She didn’t deserve this.” Adam’s voice was low, now bereft of his earlier anger, and full of melancholy. “You know she was fucking brilliant last night on that stage, everyone knows it... she... didn’t d-deserve...”
Now Kris was most definitely looking at him, eyes fixed on Adam’s jawline, down which a single tear was slowly cascading. This sent a ripple of shock through him as he mentally traced the tear’s path back up to Adam’s glassy eyes, which were big and brimming with uncontrolled emotion. The eyeliner was starting to pool with the moisture forming at the corners of his lids.
And because it was the absolute worst moment for it, the untouched part of him that he had kept hidden for his own sanity during this whole experience, his emotions, suddenly decided to emerge.
He sat down beside Adam, tears threatening to fall from his own eyes. “I know, Adam... she didn’t deserve to go home. It’s going to be hard... I know she was like your sister, you two were very close, and it was so obvious to everyone. Look, I’m sorry about that. But don’t blame Danny for it; as much as I know there’s tension between you two, it’s not worth it.”
He dared to look into Adam’s eyes, and this time, he really believed he was about to see Adam Lambert begin to cry, for he could see the sadness boiling in his face, clouding his usually bright eyes.
“I’ll miss her a lot...” He managed to say, and then he shook his head as if he were ashamed at being so upset. “She’s so talented, I thought she had a chance at winning this whole thing... and I know it’s unfair to be mad at Danny for this, but you and I know what being the American Idol is supposed to be about and who he is... is he the best person for the job? Am I... or even you? She’s a raw talent, and a genuinely good person, and such a role model to so many girls out there... and she was so fucking calm about it. At seventeen, I’d have been bawling. And Danny thought it was him, he’s usually in pissy fourteen year-old girl rivalry mode... but he looked so scared, hell, I was scared. Scared I’d do something rash... and I still might.” Kris squeezed Adam’s shoulder, sighing. “I’ll hold a nice press conference about it afterward. Then after I’m disqualified, you can beat Danny’s ass at this and become the next American Idol.”
Adam’s voice was fake-cheerful by the end of his rant, but Kris heard the rough gravel deep inside, tinged with disappointment, and it was that that dug its way underneath his own rib cage and found his heart, making him want to say something else, but he failed to find words.
It didn’t matter, because then Adam abruptly stood up, the mattress shifting, and Kris wavering upon it as it shook.
He sat there silently pondering, ten seconds, twenty, thirty, forty... a full minute before he finally wrapped his mind around the fact that Allison Iraheta was gone.
“O-Okay… Adam …we, uh-" He swallowed a lump in his throat, noticing the soft blanket of quiet that had fallen over the mansion. A subject change was desperately needed. “Okay, then. We’ll need to start thinking about song choices for next week…”
“I’ve already picked.” Adam turned to him, his eyes blank now. It was eerie to Kris, that his face was neither sad nor bright, but a clean slate. “I’m singing Aerosmith.” And at that, he saw a small grin at the corner of Adam’s mouth.
Aerosmith.
Kris thought for a moment.
“Does this have anything to do with the fact that Gokey sang Aerosmith this week, and didn’t do, shall we say, brilliantly?” He inquired, allowing a careful teasing smile to split his cheeks.
“All part of the plan, Kris.” Adam told his friend seriously.
“Are you going to be okay?” Kris asked slowly, standing up and facing the other man.
“Yeah. I’ll miss Alli… a lot, but I’ll be fine.” His eyes are again trained elsewhere. Kris is somewhat relieved at this, because judging by the pain he still hears plainly in Adam’s voice, he is unsure of what he’d see if Adam looked at him, but certain he wouldn’t like it.
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IV - GRAND ‘OLE OPRY WEEK
Adam wasn’t exactly pleased with the theme this week.
Kris saw it in the contemplative, somewhat put-off look that crossed Adam’s face when the contestants found out that country music is what they’d all be singing the next week.
His roommate looked tired and unnerved for a split second, but after Kris blinked, there is a wide grin spreading across Adam’s face, letting his uncovered freckles dance upon his pale cheeks. Kris couldn’t help but chuckle as he saw the wheels turning in his new friend’s head.
Kris sailed through mostly unscathed, breezily managing to please Randy Travis and marginally impress the judges. But he let the confident smile decorating his face sink and disappear, when Adam’s ratings were not as enthusiastic, when Simon stated that viewers might be tossing their televisions out their windows. He’d found himself perplexed, but pleasantly so by Adam’s rendition of the Johnny Cash song, but was discouraged by the lack of recognition Adam was receiving for being the standout of the night and making the song his own.
It had not taken long for them to become close, he and Adam, and after long nights of trying to fall asleep and prolonged conversations, he’d quickly gotten to know the guy, and genuinely liked him. So he couldn’t help but worry a bit that his new friend might be plagued by viewers agreeing with Simon, and leave him... alone in that big room, with no one to talk to until his eyes slid shut.
Adam seemed unabashed, his unflappable confidence shining through when they went back to the mansion. He immediately flipped open his laptop and opened up a Google page, following what Kris found was routine. After some typing, a few clicks, and a scroll down the results page, Kris watched Adam’s face contort into a thoughtful, and slightly concerned look.
And stay that way.
Kris froze by his own bed, staring at Adam for a moment, before boldly asking, “What are they saying about tonight?”
As far as replying went, Adam didn’t even look like he wanted to for a split second. Then, he smiled nervously and read aloud, “Newsday - American Idol Does Country - Lambert Stuns with Version of Cash’s Ring of Fire.”
Kris didn’t say anything at first. Adam bit his lip.
“Don’t worry. You were great, I mean, look at that - the title of the article pinpoints your performance, and no one else’s. You’ll be fine.”
They didn’t discuss it for a few minutes, as Kris shuffled around, preparing himself to lie down and rest.
Then, Adam spoke up, his voice curious. “Was it too... different? Should I have waited until later in the competition to do something like this?”
“I liked it a lot because it was different, and sure, I bet it was a bit polarizing and yeah, maybe controversial... but not offensive. That’s bullshit.” Kris laughed. “I don’t think you should be nervous. You’ll be fine.” He repeated. After a thoughtful hum from Adam, Kris continued, “What do the comments on the article say?”
“Mmm... mixed reviews.” Adam’s eyes scanned the page slowly, as he read a considered every word. Suddenly, a light filled them, and he burst out laughing, an infectious sound that Kris was just starting to get used to.
“What?” Kris smiled at Adam, who was staring at the screen, laughs tumbling from his lips as he breathlessly pointed to whatever he was reading. Overcome with wonder, Kris asked, “What’s it say?”
Adam gulped then, catching his breath, but he barely kept a straight face as he read in a high-pitched, squeaky voice, “Comment from IDOLgirl09: I think the best performance of the night was by Kris Allen. Soooooo cute! You want to just squeeze him, he’s so adorable! He reminds me of a goldendoodle... except he’s even cuter!”
“A goldendoodle?!!!” Kris asked, as Adam started laughing again. Glad that Adam was distracted from being concerned about his own performance, but confused about this “IDOLgirl09”’s reaction to his, Kris grinned and grudgingly continued, “What is that? It sounds like some kind of... snack dessert. Like a Twinkie.”
This only made Adam laugh harder, and Kris rose, approaching his roommate, looking intensely at him in a way he hoped conveyed, “YOU’D-BETTER-TELL-ME-WHAT-THE-HELL-A-FREAKING -GOLDENDOODLE-IS-BEFORE-I-SOCK-YOU”.
After a moment, Adam explained, “It’s a cross between a poodle and golden retriever. Don’t you have those in Arkansas?” Kris glared at him and Adam merely smiled again. “They’re very fluffy, and yeah, pretty damn cute.”
Kris sighed dramatically. “Adam, I know it’s not entirely my choice, but if my fans are going to say I remind them of a dog, couldn’t they have tried a breed that won’t have the other contestants rolling around laughing at me?”
Adam nodded, still grinning. “Should’ve gone for the pit-bull. Suits you more. Everyone will be so intimidated; they’ll punch in your voting number for fear of being mauled.”
Kris couldn’t believe it, but he found himself chuckling as well, and moments later, settling beside Adam to read comments over his shoulder.
Dogs. He’s going to be my roommate for however long we’re both here and we’re talking about dogs and I can’t even mock him for knowing all about goldendoodles because I’m glad we’re talking about dogs, talking about dogs is the first real, laughter-filled, friend-like conversation we’ve had and how screwed up is that?
Kris let out a snort of laughter when Adam told him that he’d once considered getting a goldendoodle for a companion, and Adam ducked his chin down to hide a satisfied smile.
“Actually, if I ever do get one, maybe I’ll name him Kris,” His eyes were twinkling. “This girl might be on to something. Kris. Krissy. It’s cute.”
“Are you kidding me?” Kris withdrew a pillow from behind him and smacked Adam with it. “Adam, if you name your dog Kris … I’ll.. I-I don’t know.”
Adam stared at him, smirking. “You ever have pets, man?”
“Not really.” He replied genially. “When I was a kid, yeah. I like them, but I don’t have any now. And you’re changing the subject. DO NOT; I repeat, DO NOT, name your dog after me. I’ll resign from this competition in protest.”
“Haha, I’d obviously wait until this was all over, silly.” Adam told him, and Kris rolled his eyes at how obvious that was. “Unless you want to help me sneak Kris the goldendoodle into this place...”
“I’ll leave.” Kris stated flatly. “Hop on a bus, plane... who cares? But I’ll be gone.”
Adam sighed and shut his eyes, fluttering his eyelashes in mock-drama and pouting his lips. “No, Kris, don't. You can’t go. The show needs you too much, I need you too much, I can’t function without you, blah, blah, blah.”
When Kris scoffed and attempted to rise from the bed, pretending to be offended, Adam swiftly grabbed his arm.
“Wait, I’m not finished, Kristopher!” And Adam shifted, pouring on even more drama as he continued. “You’re all that is good in the world, what would I do without you? That you allow me in your most amazing presence is such an honor. My life on Idol would be gray and colorless, and lack golden fluffiness without you around... which is a terrible thing to contemplate. You are the wind beneath my wings, Kris, don’t you get it?!” He exclaimed. “Do you want me to sing about it? I will.”
He actually might. Kris thought, restraining his laughter. Quickly, Kris shushed his roommate. Then, after a few moments of silence, Adam’s smile filling the void, Kris snapped suddenly, “Wipe that stupid grin off your face, Mr. Lambert, or I may just respectfully have to tell you to go fuck yourself.”
Adam looked surprised at Kris’ use of the curse word, but not displeased. It only served to make that wicked smile grow bigger, and a few wholesome laughs to escape his mouth. “Respectfully?”
“With the utmost respect, of course.” Kris said sincerely, trying hard not to laugh himself.
Later that night, Adam plopped the laptop onto Kris’ stomach when the latter was sprawled out across the bed, watching the TV. “That,” he said, “Is a goldendoodle.” Kris peered at the picture, squinting. “See? That’s totally you, Kris. I don’t care what you say, one day, the two of us will sneak a goldendoodle into the mansion and name him Kris.”
As Kris looked up to glare at his friend, he found him smiling again, that contagious, bright grin.
“I can just see it: Kris, don’t bite me! Kris, don’t growl at Simon! Kris, don’t piss on Gokey’s shoes!” Adam was rambling.
Kris shook his head vigorously. “With the exception of maybe shouting about not taking a shit on thousand dollar carpet, this would change the ordinary day-to-day activities here, how?”
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V - A WEEK AFTER THE FINALE
“I just need to know what your plans are, Mr. Allen. The deadline to declare will come up on you fast … I’ll need your signature, on a contract.”
Kris clutched the phone tighter and squeezed his eyes shut. What his plans were? So strange that not too long ago he knew exactly what his plans were. Marry Katy, go be on American Idol for whatever short amount of time he was accepted, then go back to Conway where he belonged.
So funny how all three of those plans fell through.
The American Idol, what he’d been working towards his whole life, everything he ever wanted-still wanted, right? It wasn’t like he didn’t think he could do it, and deserved it; it was just that everyone hadn’t suspected this was the way it was going to end up.
He had a meeting this afternoon with a few producers. Had another one next week.
Then there would be the Idols tour, signing a contract, not looking stupid on the numerous talk shows he’d appear on...
“Kris?” Kris became vaguely aware that he was not on the phone with someone at 19E anymore, and had turned to find Adam standing in the doorway backstage at the Today Show.
Adam scrutinized his friend’s face for a minute, before rolling his eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Kris... do you want this, or not? Why do you always look so miserable when you’re not in front of a camera? You do want this. I know you do.”
“Uh, yes?” Kris offered him a weak smile. “If I say yes, will I find a smelly, dead tunafish in my mailbox?”
Adam scoffed, waving a hand in dismissal. “I swear, one time, and they never let you forget it.”
“I do want this.” Kris breathed, answering him seriously.
“Well then, you have my blessing. Now, go kick some ass for me.” Adam said laughing. “You’re on in five.”
“You’re serious?” Kris still couldn’t believe him.
“Yes, I’m serious. I’ll even write you a seriously long and devoted love letter to show I mean it if you want.” Adam smirked at him.
“How can you... I d-don’t...why?” Kris stuttered. “Why are you not disappointed? You lost, Adam. Why are you not acting like it?”
“Well, I-uh, decided to do what’s best for me, for you... and for everyone.” He laughed, and the sound was so welcome and warm to Kris that he could’ve hugged Adam right then. “It’s a little old-fashioned, to be civil-but I thought I’d give it a try. Besides, we both know you could beat the shit out of me if I even tried to hit you.” Adam smiled wholly at Kris.
“How can you even be real?” Kris said in awe. “You’re awesome. You know that, don’t you?” After a slight pause, “You’re sure you’re serious?” Kris teased.
“Yes, I’m serious, you idiot! Ask me again and, I swear, I’ll run into the studio right now and come out as a heterosexual to Matt Lauer!” And Adam threw his arms around the smaller man, pulling him to his chest in an embrace.
Kris wasn’t all too sure what was to come, but he thought, with a contented smile, that this is the sort of thing that made him think he’d be just fine.
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VI - AFTER THE IDOLS TOUR
When the last tour stop rolled by, Kris found himself utterly at a loss for how to move on. Sure, he was working on an album, becoming an artist in the industry, and that both excited and scared him. And to complicate things, Katy was sorry, all of a sudden, and wanted him to come back to Conway.
“She won’t ask you to outright, so I am...” Mrs. Allen’s voice had said over the phone. “I’m asking you, saying you should, I’m saying you should come home, Kris.”
What could he do?
Numbly, he remembered saying okay.
He got all his ducks in a row, briefed all his producers, made all the proper arrangements for travel to Arkansas, and did not rip off Gokey’s head when he offers his farewell pleasantries.
For some reason, when it came time to say goodbye to his friend and roommate, he felt strangely as if he should have been apologizing.
Adam, of course, saw it all in his face.
“Kris, stop. There’s no need. I understand. She’s your wife.”
It’s here that the realization hit him like a punch to the gut, Adam did understand, he knew what it means to be hurt and to love someone, and especially what it was like to have both happen at the same time.
Kris remembered hearing the catch in Adam’s throat when he talked about his past the night before the disco performances, when decades plus old pain was ripped open and raw for the audience.
Adam was human too, and he was vulnerable, and so, he was sympathetic.
It was, he marveled with a sad smile, exactly the kind of thing that won Kris over and made him love Adam, that special understanding he seemed to have about everything, and how their friendship made him feel warm and accepted even when all else failed and he was alone.
A few years ago, Kris Allen would never have given a man like Adam Lambert the chance to get to know him. At this moment, he had the rampant urge to go back in time and kick that version of himself’s ass. And, he thought painfully, as long as he was in control of all space and time, he could really fix things between him and Katy.
Fuck. He could barely look at Adam. He couldn’t - because all of it, every cliché Kris knew of to possibly fit this situation was true. Gravity seemed to fall out from under him and tears he’d held inside since the call from his mom welled up in his eyes. He blinked them back, not knowing what to do next.
He outstretched out his hand, attempting to seek refuge in settling for stifling formalities, waiting for his friend to clasp it.
“I’m so glad I got to know you, Adam Lambert.” He said sincerely, Adam’s name hitching in his throat.
But the taller man refused to stick to the script, as usual. Adam practically yanked him into a hug, an all-encompassing embrace that Kris melted into gratefully. Adam held Kris tight, one hand on the base of his neck, the other at the small of his back.
At first, he went tense and his arms dangled limply at his sides, but then Kris leaned in, his own arms wrapping around Adam, indulging in a single choked sob before pulling away.
Adam’s eyes were just as bright as ever, and he smiled in a way that almost broke him. He frantically scrubbed at his face, willing himself not to lose it completely.
“Sorry, sorry.” He mumbled quietly. “I-I’m just... such a mess right now. Just wish I had more time, you know?”
He was not sure if he meant more time with Adam or more time to prepare for going back to Katy.
Adam gave him a tiny smile. “I never regretted asking you to be my roommate, Kris Allen.”
Kris gulped, trying to work his words around the lump in his throat. “I never regretting accepting.”
That should be a lie, Kris thought. All the battles-with each other, with the press, with the opposition, and with the world.
But it wasn’t a lie, not in the least, to the two of them. Right now, Kris looked at Adam and all he saw was the good.
He met Adam when they bonded during the rounds before the Top 13.
He came to love Adam throughout the months of rooming with, singing with, and competing against him. There were moments of anguish, triumph, stress, and joy.
And now, he knew, he’d do it all again without a second thought.
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Sorry if the alignment got messed up, my computer's a bench. (Thanks Kris! Bench is the new "biatch") ;)
Comments? Thoughts?