Ignorance In Pieces (13/?)
Title: Ignorance In Pieces (13/?)
Author: adamissexable
Pairing: Kradam and Kradison friendship
Rating: NC 17
Summary: During Tour. Kris is trying to get over his failure of a marriage and sort out his newfound 'feelings' for his best friend. Adam catches Kris in a compromising position - angst, sexytimes, and laughter ensue.
Disclaimer: Though I wish some of it were real, it's most likely probably definitely not.
Warnings/Notes: This story is a WIP, therefore from now on I will be posting everyother day, possibly longer if I don't get the time to write. Sorry! And this is ultimately a Kradam story, but there is A LOT of Kradison - if you're not into that then don't read it and please don't pm me complaining. For those of you who've held on this whole time, I appreciate it - and trust me, it will be worth it in the end! :D
Other parts: http://adamissexable.livejournal.com/2431.html
That's about it, you know the drill! :D
Allison was aware of a cold hand on her arm, a rough palm on her cheek, fingers through her hair, but that was it. She heard impertinent things. Like her stilettos clicking against the ground - shrill, staccato against tile, then sharp, and hollow against pavement - and the ragged, inconsistent breaths of someone near her. She saw the world through misty tunnel vision - dull, hazy blurs fusing within themselves to create larger, more obscured outlines of the things that existed around her.
Time and place were irrelevant. From the alleyway, to the club, to the hotel lobby, to the presidential suite, and then to her spot on the balcony - hands gripping the railing, as she stared down at the blurred lights on the ground some 150 or so feet down.
That is how she acted on the ride here, feelings, emotions getting the better of her. She swore years ago she’d never let anyone see her like that, no matter the circumstances. Though lately her control had been slipping; the slightest bit of negative emotion igniting reactions she’d kept at bay for years on end.
The lack of proper sleep and energy combined with the problems amongst her and her two best friends was eroding away at the carefully built wall that blocked her antagonistic perceptions and experiences. She could practically feel the positive protection chipping away - the raw emotion gliding its way through her bloodstream, underneath her skin - the particles compacting inside of her, very little space left between them.
This was how she felt and she resented every second of it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Adam brought the moist towel to his cheek, wincing when it made contact with the long gash that ran from hairline to chin. It was deep, but not deep enough for stitches. Or so he thought.
After everything tonight he refused to cause more trouble for everyone else. He would suffer. Well you’re sure as hell suffering alright.
He gave up trying to clean out the cut on his face, his knuckles were sore and bloody and he couldn’t deal with the sting right now. Putting down the towel he examined himself in the mirror. There was glittery, dried blood caked to most of his body - it ran in broken, smeared trails down the insides of his forearms, his neck, his chest. Adam’s hair was surprisingly decent, glitter reduced to a dull, iridescent glow, few tufts that were matted with blood and dirt.
Raising his hand up to his eye, he pressed his fingers against the skin around it tentatively. A low painful groan escaped his lips upon contact, a black eye. Perfect, there wasn’t enough make up in the world to cover this one. Yes, because that’s exactly what you should be worried about right now.
Adam turned his head away from the mirror, the movement making his head spin. Gripping the edge of the tile tightly to steady himself he immediately let go when his knuckles roared in protest. He looked down at them, carefully examining the assortment of colors in which they were covered. Crimson from the blood that had finally seized to flow, black and blue from the bruising between each knuckle.
Reaching towards the sink, he turned it on with his wrist, then placed both of his hands under the flow of cool, clear water. Sighing in relief, he placed his forearms against the counter and just let his body hang. He was so tired. So emotionally exhausted, he couldn’t even bring himself to feel anything. He decided to take advantage of it, to try and decipher the quick, blurred flashes that ran through his head that reminded him of the strobe lights at the club.
The club. He shook his head violently, embracing the dizziness and pain. He deserved more anyways. Image after image flowed through his mind, some lingering longer than others - each one just as sickening as the next.
He tried to slow down the unsteady beats in his chest, ignore the pain that reverberated throughout his entire body - leaving just his ragged breathing. He backed away from the mirror right into the wall, sliding down it roughly. Closing his eyes, he locked his jaw - his hands braced against his knees which were now tucked into his chest.
Weaving through the pictures in his head, he mentally rewound - starting at the beginning.
When they first arrived, dancing against Kris near the bar. A shiver ran through his body, and he managed not to suck in a mouthful of air in surprise. He hadn’t noticed the look in Kris’s eyes. At first it was pure, uncensored lust. Then it shifted the longer Adam pressed against him, threatening the composure Adam had so carefully contained. No, Adam wouldn’t see that look in his eyes, not now. He halted the memory quickly, throwing himself into the next one without a thought - ignoring the inconsequential ones along the way.
His mind stopped at Allison latched to Matt’s arm on the way to their table. His heart and stomach lurched at even the thought of her name. He retracted himself from that particular moment and threw himself forward again, he could deal with everything that revolved around her at the end.
This put the look Adam had given Kris, when they were all seated at the table, next. He felt his heart swell in his chest, he’d looked so adorable - all flustered and unsure. But there was still that look in his eyes, the one that almost broke him at the time, no. Not now.
He let his mind wander briefly, stopping at the heavy flirtation and brief brief? kiss with the insanely gorgeous waitress. What the hell had gotten into him? Yes, he flirted, but never to that extent - he was almost disgusted with himself. He found it oddly amusing that he couldn’t bring himself to regret it completely though, it was just too damn good.
A wry smile jumped to his lips with the next memory, the first smile he’d cracked since the club. Megan was all over him. He had completely over-analyzed her actions at the time, but even now he felt he had the right. She was being a tease, but there was something real behind it. The otherwise odd looks in her eyes, in the way she carried herself. He was completely flattered, but it was a bit unusual - especially coming from her.
His mind skipped a few semi-important moments, immediately jumping to the looks he and Kris shared when Adam was on the dance floor. The first time Kris had flushed and turned away and once again rejection flooded through Adam. It wasn’t something he was used to. Arrogant, his mind sang at him.
Mentally shaking the thought away, he focused on the second look they shared. It was brief, completely cruel, but Adam watched tentatively as Kris’s features contorted into rage, lingering there for a few seconds, then guilt wracked his body when Kris’s entire being projected anguish. It cut knives through Adam’s heart, leaving them to sting more than that of his face. He tucked his knees tighter to his chest and continued to flow through the night.
Drake. His stomach flipped uneasily at the thought of the man. He’d wound him up, strung him along, then left him out to dry - completely oblivious to it the entire away. The back of his mind reminded him he hadn’t done it on purpose, but he still felt that self loathing eat away at his abdomen. It wasn’t about the sexual frustration, he could care less about that now, it was the fact that he was continuously hurting other people to satisfy some twisted form of insecurity.
Hurting people. The understatement of the century in his case - considering he’d damn near killed a man with his bare hands. The guy deserved that and so much more. Anger flooded through him, filling him, almost causing him to lose control again. Clenching his jaw, he forced himself to breathe - slow, ragged breaths - before continuing his train of thought.
Kill, it’s not a word used in Adam’s life often. Yet, he would have murdered that man without a second thought. His fingernails dug into his palms as he thought of the reason why he was so eager to destroy the man. The bastard almost fucking - he couldn’t finish the sentence even in his mind.
The brief moment in which Adam thought what might have been had he not intervened, caused his control to slip and image after image assaulted him. Allison with her palm pressing into the man’s crotch, moaning while his own hand was down her pants - mouth on her chest. His stomach rolled with nausea. Allison pressed up against the wall, pleading at him, willing him to help her. But he’d stood there, paralyzed, and just watched - denying reality at even a time like that.
Then the fight - though, he couldn’t remember much. Pushing at his mind, he willed for some form of realization to press down upon him. Nothing. He couldn’t remember a thing until he’d woken up, Kris crying above him.
Adam flinched when the next imaged slipped into his mind. His emotions, he was just so caught up and the look on Kris’s face - like he hadn’t a clue who Adam was anymore - had just snapped something and the next thing he knew his fist was connecting with Kris’s jaw. If he was being honest with himself he probably would have hit him again, and again, and again. For everything he’d done, for every moment he made Adam doubt himself, for every fucking emotion Adam had went through in the last 8 hours.
Luckily, that never happened - not with Adam’s immediate change of emotion when Allison had intervened. His heart jumped in his chest, beating wildly against his rib cage, taut strings tightening even more. Holy shit.
He couldn’t breathe right, and his stomach was rolling. Sweat beaded at his forehead and at the back of his neck, his entire body felt feverish and it wasn’t until he failed trying to crawl over to the toilet that he realized he was shaking. He rolled onto his side and willed his arms to lift up, the movement making him dizzy and suddenly he was heaving onto the neat tile underneath him. But there was nothing to throw up, not anything with substance at least.
He allowed the spell to run its course before sitting on his knees, and slowly peeling off his torn shirt. Throwing it aside, he lifted himself to his feet, walking carefully to run the shower before slipping off his pants and underwear. Not even allowing the water to heat up completely he stumbled inside - closing his eyes under the cool pressure of it against his skin.
Comments would be glamtastic! :D
Author: adamissexable
Pairing: Kradam and Kradison friendship
Rating: NC 17
Summary: During Tour. Kris is trying to get over his failure of a marriage and sort out his newfound 'feelings' for his best friend. Adam catches Kris in a compromising position - angst, sexytimes, and laughter ensue.
Disclaimer: Though I wish some of it were real, it's most likely probably definitely not.
Warnings/Notes: This story is a WIP, therefore from now on I will be posting everyother day, possibly longer if I don't get the time to write. Sorry! And this is ultimately a Kradam story, but there is A LOT of Kradison - if you're not into that then don't read it and please don't pm me complaining. For those of you who've held on this whole time, I appreciate it - and trust me, it will be worth it in the end! :D
Other parts: http://adamissexable.livejournal.com/2431.html
That's about it, you know the drill! :D
Allison was aware of a cold hand on her arm, a rough palm on her cheek, fingers through her hair, but that was it. She heard impertinent things. Like her stilettos clicking against the ground - shrill, staccato against tile, then sharp, and hollow against pavement - and the ragged, inconsistent breaths of someone near her. She saw the world through misty tunnel vision - dull, hazy blurs fusing within themselves to create larger, more obscured outlines of the things that existed around her.
Time and place were irrelevant. From the alleyway, to the club, to the hotel lobby, to the presidential suite, and then to her spot on the balcony - hands gripping the railing, as she stared down at the blurred lights on the ground some 150 or so feet down.
That is how she acted on the ride here, feelings, emotions getting the better of her. She swore years ago she’d never let anyone see her like that, no matter the circumstances. Though lately her control had been slipping; the slightest bit of negative emotion igniting reactions she’d kept at bay for years on end.
The lack of proper sleep and energy combined with the problems amongst her and her two best friends was eroding away at the carefully built wall that blocked her antagonistic perceptions and experiences. She could practically feel the positive protection chipping away - the raw emotion gliding its way through her bloodstream, underneath her skin - the particles compacting inside of her, very little space left between them.
This was how she felt and she resented every second of it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Adam brought the moist towel to his cheek, wincing when it made contact with the long gash that ran from hairline to chin. It was deep, but not deep enough for stitches. Or so he thought.
After everything tonight he refused to cause more trouble for everyone else. He would suffer. Well you’re sure as hell suffering alright.
He gave up trying to clean out the cut on his face, his knuckles were sore and bloody and he couldn’t deal with the sting right now. Putting down the towel he examined himself in the mirror. There was glittery, dried blood caked to most of his body - it ran in broken, smeared trails down the insides of his forearms, his neck, his chest. Adam’s hair was surprisingly decent, glitter reduced to a dull, iridescent glow, few tufts that were matted with blood and dirt.
Raising his hand up to his eye, he pressed his fingers against the skin around it tentatively. A low painful groan escaped his lips upon contact, a black eye. Perfect, there wasn’t enough make up in the world to cover this one. Yes, because that’s exactly what you should be worried about right now.
Adam turned his head away from the mirror, the movement making his head spin. Gripping the edge of the tile tightly to steady himself he immediately let go when his knuckles roared in protest. He looked down at them, carefully examining the assortment of colors in which they were covered. Crimson from the blood that had finally seized to flow, black and blue from the bruising between each knuckle.
Reaching towards the sink, he turned it on with his wrist, then placed both of his hands under the flow of cool, clear water. Sighing in relief, he placed his forearms against the counter and just let his body hang. He was so tired. So emotionally exhausted, he couldn’t even bring himself to feel anything. He decided to take advantage of it, to try and decipher the quick, blurred flashes that ran through his head that reminded him of the strobe lights at the club.
The club. He shook his head violently, embracing the dizziness and pain. He deserved more anyways. Image after image flowed through his mind, some lingering longer than others - each one just as sickening as the next.
He tried to slow down the unsteady beats in his chest, ignore the pain that reverberated throughout his entire body - leaving just his ragged breathing. He backed away from the mirror right into the wall, sliding down it roughly. Closing his eyes, he locked his jaw - his hands braced against his knees which were now tucked into his chest.
Weaving through the pictures in his head, he mentally rewound - starting at the beginning.
When they first arrived, dancing against Kris near the bar. A shiver ran through his body, and he managed not to suck in a mouthful of air in surprise. He hadn’t noticed the look in Kris’s eyes. At first it was pure, uncensored lust. Then it shifted the longer Adam pressed against him, threatening the composure Adam had so carefully contained. No, Adam wouldn’t see that look in his eyes, not now. He halted the memory quickly, throwing himself into the next one without a thought - ignoring the inconsequential ones along the way.
His mind stopped at Allison latched to Matt’s arm on the way to their table. His heart and stomach lurched at even the thought of her name. He retracted himself from that particular moment and threw himself forward again, he could deal with everything that revolved around her at the end.
This put the look Adam had given Kris, when they were all seated at the table, next. He felt his heart swell in his chest, he’d looked so adorable - all flustered and unsure. But there was still that look in his eyes, the one that almost broke him at the time, no. Not now.
He let his mind wander briefly, stopping at the heavy flirtation and brief brief? kiss with the insanely gorgeous waitress. What the hell had gotten into him? Yes, he flirted, but never to that extent - he was almost disgusted with himself. He found it oddly amusing that he couldn’t bring himself to regret it completely though, it was just too damn good.
A wry smile jumped to his lips with the next memory, the first smile he’d cracked since the club. Megan was all over him. He had completely over-analyzed her actions at the time, but even now he felt he had the right. She was being a tease, but there was something real behind it. The otherwise odd looks in her eyes, in the way she carried herself. He was completely flattered, but it was a bit unusual - especially coming from her.
His mind skipped a few semi-important moments, immediately jumping to the looks he and Kris shared when Adam was on the dance floor. The first time Kris had flushed and turned away and once again rejection flooded through Adam. It wasn’t something he was used to. Arrogant, his mind sang at him.
Mentally shaking the thought away, he focused on the second look they shared. It was brief, completely cruel, but Adam watched tentatively as Kris’s features contorted into rage, lingering there for a few seconds, then guilt wracked his body when Kris’s entire being projected anguish. It cut knives through Adam’s heart, leaving them to sting more than that of his face. He tucked his knees tighter to his chest and continued to flow through the night.
Drake. His stomach flipped uneasily at the thought of the man. He’d wound him up, strung him along, then left him out to dry - completely oblivious to it the entire away. The back of his mind reminded him he hadn’t done it on purpose, but he still felt that self loathing eat away at his abdomen. It wasn’t about the sexual frustration, he could care less about that now, it was the fact that he was continuously hurting other people to satisfy some twisted form of insecurity.
Hurting people. The understatement of the century in his case - considering he’d damn near killed a man with his bare hands. The guy deserved that and so much more. Anger flooded through him, filling him, almost causing him to lose control again. Clenching his jaw, he forced himself to breathe - slow, ragged breaths - before continuing his train of thought.
Kill, it’s not a word used in Adam’s life often. Yet, he would have murdered that man without a second thought. His fingernails dug into his palms as he thought of the reason why he was so eager to destroy the man. The bastard almost fucking - he couldn’t finish the sentence even in his mind.
The brief moment in which Adam thought what might have been had he not intervened, caused his control to slip and image after image assaulted him. Allison with her palm pressing into the man’s crotch, moaning while his own hand was down her pants - mouth on her chest. His stomach rolled with nausea. Allison pressed up against the wall, pleading at him, willing him to help her. But he’d stood there, paralyzed, and just watched - denying reality at even a time like that.
Then the fight - though, he couldn’t remember much. Pushing at his mind, he willed for some form of realization to press down upon him. Nothing. He couldn’t remember a thing until he’d woken up, Kris crying above him.
Adam flinched when the next imaged slipped into his mind. His emotions, he was just so caught up and the look on Kris’s face - like he hadn’t a clue who Adam was anymore - had just snapped something and the next thing he knew his fist was connecting with Kris’s jaw. If he was being honest with himself he probably would have hit him again, and again, and again. For everything he’d done, for every moment he made Adam doubt himself, for every fucking emotion Adam had went through in the last 8 hours.
Luckily, that never happened - not with Adam’s immediate change of emotion when Allison had intervened. His heart jumped in his chest, beating wildly against his rib cage, taut strings tightening even more. Holy shit.
He couldn’t breathe right, and his stomach was rolling. Sweat beaded at his forehead and at the back of his neck, his entire body felt feverish and it wasn’t until he failed trying to crawl over to the toilet that he realized he was shaking. He rolled onto his side and willed his arms to lift up, the movement making him dizzy and suddenly he was heaving onto the neat tile underneath him. But there was nothing to throw up, not anything with substance at least.
He allowed the spell to run its course before sitting on his knees, and slowly peeling off his torn shirt. Throwing it aside, he lifted himself to his feet, walking carefully to run the shower before slipping off his pants and underwear. Not even allowing the water to heat up completely he stumbled inside - closing his eyes under the cool pressure of it against his skin.
Comments would be glamtastic! :D