Fic - And Mine Tonight (AI Kris/Adam)
And Mine Tonight
Kris/Adam (AI)
PG13
1100+ words
At this point, by Adam’s count, they’ve been up for thirty-six hours, all of that time a constant whirlwind of interviews, photo shoots and publicity. Kris is all but falling over, body exhausted and barely holding himself up. They have six hours before they have to be up to do it all over again and Adam has never been so relieved to see a bed in all his life when the handlers deposit them at the hotel. Kris is leaning against Adam, head on Adam’s shoulder, eyes closed, when the elevator stops at Adam’s floor. Kris jerks awake with the ding of the doors sliding open.
Kris makes to stand up, blinking dry, tired eyes at Adam who just shakes his head, curls his fingers around Kris’s hip and steers him out into the hall.
“C’mon,” he mouths against Kris’s hair, “crash with me.”
He’s obsessed with the time slipping past, each minute that ticks by another minute of sleep they won’t be getting.
Kris’s mouth curves in the imitation of a smile and he lets Adam manhandle him down the deserted hallway. Adam struggles to get the door open with Kris resting his forehead against Adam’s back, snuffling quietly.
Kris toes out of his shoes and crawls, hands and knees across the mattress until he plants himself face first into the pile of pillows, still fully clothed. His chin is tilted, a blissed out expression on his face. He curls his arms around a pillow, legs sprawling, and Adam pauses with his fingers at his belt, watching Kris.
Kris reaches, eyes closed, lips curved in half a smile, across the bed, patting the mattress. “Bed, Adam,” he mumbles, already slipping into sleep.
“Yeah,” Adam says quietly, “I’m coming.” This is not the first time he’s shared his bed with Kris, but it’s the first time he’s let his mind wander to more while Kris is mere feet away. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, the sheer exhaustion of the last couple of days, but Adam can’t shake the slow heat that spreads through him watching Kris’s face relax, the slope of his neck, the pale skin where his t-shirt dips.
Adam takes a few deep breaths to shake it off in the way he’s adapted for the sake of self preservation and shrugs out of his jacket. When Adam pulls the sheets back and slides beneath four-hundred count Egyptian cotton, in just his underwear and a threadbare t-shirt, Kris is awake, watching him, his face quiet, eyes sleepy.
Adam rolls to his side, sheet falling low across his waist. He folds his arm beneath his cheek. “Alright?” he breathes, his chest feeling tight.
Kris makes a low sound in agreement and Adam feels the wind knocked almost completely out of him when Kris reaches out a hand and hooks his finger in the neck of Adam’s t-shirt. Adam goes still, feels like he’s holding his breath. They’re both punchy, a crazy sort of drunk from lack of sleep, that’s all. Adam knows better. But Kris is rubbing his thumb over the hollow of Adam’s throat, and there are nerves there Adam didn’t know existed, making breathing difficult.
Adam curls his fingers around Kris’s wrist. “Kris,” Adam says gently. Kris’s brow furrows in a frown. Adam feels like he’s outside of his body, watching Kris lift his head as his fingers curl around Adam’s neck.
Adam has never once heard Kris tell anyone to shut up, but he hears it now, a low, shaky mumble of words as Kris raises himself up on his forearm.
There are dark smudges beneath Kris’s eyes, making him look young, younger than twenty-three, his eyes soft at the corners. This is not the time or the place or the reality, there is no circumstance under which this should be happening but Adam closes his eyes and parts his lips and thinks if it comes to it, he can always blame it on the bone deep exhaustion.
Kris's lips slip over Adam's, a subtle, gentle slide that makes Adam's breath stutter in his chest. Kris cups Adam’s jaw and opens his mouth a little, tongue brushing once, fleetingly along the seam of Adam’s lips.
Adam melts into the mattress, bones heavy, muscles gone limp. He feels like he’s floating, his head’s a balloon on a string, floating aimlessly and his body’s not his own. He’s trying to fight his way back from the pull of sleep, feels like he could content himself with being kissed into unconsciousness.
It just sort of goes naturally from there, it feels right to tuck his thumb in Kris’s belt loop, curl his other hand around Kris’s hip and haul him up to sprawl across Adam, his weight solid and reassuring.
Kris tries to brace himself above Adam, a pretense of space between them except Adam’s having none of it, throws an arm across Kris’s back and brings him down. Kris loses his breath in a rush of air against Adam’s lips, a huff caught low in his throat that vibrates through Adam’s skin. Adam makes a pleased, encouraging hum. He could be content to do this forever, the reassuring press of Kris above him, the slide of Kris’s lips the only thing keeping him from tripping into dreamland.
He palms Kris’s hips, finds himself loving the way Kris fits narrowly, perfectly into the cups of his hands, and holds on.
It’s sweet, slow, and it’s not leading towards anything, both of them barely awake. But if given half a chance, Adam thinks he could get off on this, the lethargic press of lips, the hitches in Kris’s breaths, his tongue licking at the corners of Adam’s mouth.
There are voices, faraway whispers of caution floating through the haze of Adam’s brain. Adam pushes his fingers into the soft, short hair at the nape of Kris’s neck and he tugs gently, pulling Kris back. Kris tears his mouth from Adam’s, looks down with wide, glazed eyes, a wet, pink mouth and Adam has to close his eyes against the flare of heat low in his gut.
“Kris.” Adam’s voice sounds broken and faraway, lost somewhere in the double time of his pulse, the roar in his ears.
Something unsure, a little embarrassed passes across Kris’s features and he nods once a jerky up and down.
“Okay, hey,” Adam says a little forcefully because that’s not what he meant, not for Kris to shrink into himself like they’ve done something wrong. He presses the shape of his palms to Kris’s cheeks, brings him forward. Adam’s open mouth slides wetly over Kris’s lips, a hot assurance that for Adam at least, this is good, this is okay.
Adam lets Kris go, lets him tip to the mattress on his belly. Adam throws an arm over his forehead, eyes closed, and tries to regain some sense of control, some grasp on reality.
Kris burrows in against Adam’s side, face tucked in against Adam’s neck and Adam gives up.
Kris/Adam (AI)
PG13
1100+ words
At this point, by Adam’s count, they’ve been up for thirty-six hours, all of that time a constant whirlwind of interviews, photo shoots and publicity. Kris is all but falling over, body exhausted and barely holding himself up. They have six hours before they have to be up to do it all over again and Adam has never been so relieved to see a bed in all his life when the handlers deposit them at the hotel. Kris is leaning against Adam, head on Adam’s shoulder, eyes closed, when the elevator stops at Adam’s floor. Kris jerks awake with the ding of the doors sliding open.
Kris makes to stand up, blinking dry, tired eyes at Adam who just shakes his head, curls his fingers around Kris’s hip and steers him out into the hall.
“C’mon,” he mouths against Kris’s hair, “crash with me.”
He’s obsessed with the time slipping past, each minute that ticks by another minute of sleep they won’t be getting.
Kris’s mouth curves in the imitation of a smile and he lets Adam manhandle him down the deserted hallway. Adam struggles to get the door open with Kris resting his forehead against Adam’s back, snuffling quietly.
Kris toes out of his shoes and crawls, hands and knees across the mattress until he plants himself face first into the pile of pillows, still fully clothed. His chin is tilted, a blissed out expression on his face. He curls his arms around a pillow, legs sprawling, and Adam pauses with his fingers at his belt, watching Kris.
Kris reaches, eyes closed, lips curved in half a smile, across the bed, patting the mattress. “Bed, Adam,” he mumbles, already slipping into sleep.
“Yeah,” Adam says quietly, “I’m coming.” This is not the first time he’s shared his bed with Kris, but it’s the first time he’s let his mind wander to more while Kris is mere feet away. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, the sheer exhaustion of the last couple of days, but Adam can’t shake the slow heat that spreads through him watching Kris’s face relax, the slope of his neck, the pale skin where his t-shirt dips.
Adam takes a few deep breaths to shake it off in the way he’s adapted for the sake of self preservation and shrugs out of his jacket. When Adam pulls the sheets back and slides beneath four-hundred count Egyptian cotton, in just his underwear and a threadbare t-shirt, Kris is awake, watching him, his face quiet, eyes sleepy.
Adam rolls to his side, sheet falling low across his waist. He folds his arm beneath his cheek. “Alright?” he breathes, his chest feeling tight.
Kris makes a low sound in agreement and Adam feels the wind knocked almost completely out of him when Kris reaches out a hand and hooks his finger in the neck of Adam’s t-shirt. Adam goes still, feels like he’s holding his breath. They’re both punchy, a crazy sort of drunk from lack of sleep, that’s all. Adam knows better. But Kris is rubbing his thumb over the hollow of Adam’s throat, and there are nerves there Adam didn’t know existed, making breathing difficult.
Adam curls his fingers around Kris’s wrist. “Kris,” Adam says gently. Kris’s brow furrows in a frown. Adam feels like he’s outside of his body, watching Kris lift his head as his fingers curl around Adam’s neck.
Adam has never once heard Kris tell anyone to shut up, but he hears it now, a low, shaky mumble of words as Kris raises himself up on his forearm.
There are dark smudges beneath Kris’s eyes, making him look young, younger than twenty-three, his eyes soft at the corners. This is not the time or the place or the reality, there is no circumstance under which this should be happening but Adam closes his eyes and parts his lips and thinks if it comes to it, he can always blame it on the bone deep exhaustion.
Kris's lips slip over Adam's, a subtle, gentle slide that makes Adam's breath stutter in his chest. Kris cups Adam’s jaw and opens his mouth a little, tongue brushing once, fleetingly along the seam of Adam’s lips.
Adam melts into the mattress, bones heavy, muscles gone limp. He feels like he’s floating, his head’s a balloon on a string, floating aimlessly and his body’s not his own. He’s trying to fight his way back from the pull of sleep, feels like he could content himself with being kissed into unconsciousness.
It just sort of goes naturally from there, it feels right to tuck his thumb in Kris’s belt loop, curl his other hand around Kris’s hip and haul him up to sprawl across Adam, his weight solid and reassuring.
Kris tries to brace himself above Adam, a pretense of space between them except Adam’s having none of it, throws an arm across Kris’s back and brings him down. Kris loses his breath in a rush of air against Adam’s lips, a huff caught low in his throat that vibrates through Adam’s skin. Adam makes a pleased, encouraging hum. He could be content to do this forever, the reassuring press of Kris above him, the slide of Kris’s lips the only thing keeping him from tripping into dreamland.
He palms Kris’s hips, finds himself loving the way Kris fits narrowly, perfectly into the cups of his hands, and holds on.
It’s sweet, slow, and it’s not leading towards anything, both of them barely awake. But if given half a chance, Adam thinks he could get off on this, the lethargic press of lips, the hitches in Kris’s breaths, his tongue licking at the corners of Adam’s mouth.
There are voices, faraway whispers of caution floating through the haze of Adam’s brain. Adam pushes his fingers into the soft, short hair at the nape of Kris’s neck and he tugs gently, pulling Kris back. Kris tears his mouth from Adam’s, looks down with wide, glazed eyes, a wet, pink mouth and Adam has to close his eyes against the flare of heat low in his gut.
“Kris.” Adam’s voice sounds broken and faraway, lost somewhere in the double time of his pulse, the roar in his ears.
Something unsure, a little embarrassed passes across Kris’s features and he nods once a jerky up and down.
“Okay, hey,” Adam says a little forcefully because that’s not what he meant, not for Kris to shrink into himself like they’ve done something wrong. He presses the shape of his palms to Kris’s cheeks, brings him forward. Adam’s open mouth slides wetly over Kris’s lips, a hot assurance that for Adam at least, this is good, this is okay.
Adam lets Kris go, lets him tip to the mattress on his belly. Adam throws an arm over his forehead, eyes closed, and tries to regain some sense of control, some grasp on reality.
Kris burrows in against Adam’s side, face tucked in against Adam’s neck and Adam gives up.