PLAYING WITH FIRE (AI Kradam humor fic) Chapters 1--4
Title: PLAYING WITH FIRE
Ship: Adam/Kris from American Idol
Plot: Kris goes too far in teasing Adam while on tour. (No Drake or Katy exist in this story.)
Style: Humor/Dialogue
Note: Written upon request for ontd_ai kink meme #50. You may not archive or post elsewhere without express permission.
Rating: This entry is PG-13/R. The final two chapters may/will be R/NC-17.
Disclaimer: The boys don't belong to me, blahdeblahdeblahdeblah you know the drill.
NOTE: THIS ENTRY CONTAINS CHAPTERS 1-4.
Playing with Fire: Chapter 5
Playing with Fire: Chapter 6
Playing with Fire: Chapter 7
Chapter 1: Gathering the kindling
"You're playing with fire."
Kris felt the heat as he patted Adam's thigh. Right before Adam moved his leg, dislodging his hand.
"You're playing with fire."
Kris sat down next to Adam on the couch in the bus, rubbing his leg against Adam's.
Adam looked at Kris' leg, then slowly turned his head. He sucked his upper lip in, then spoke softly. "Kris, I hesitate to don my Captain Obvious costume--"
"Why? You love playing dress up." Kris grinned up at Adam.
"Not when I'm..." Adam bit his lip and looked away, out the window at...Maryland, was it? No, Virginia. Right? Focus on geography. Good plan. "Allow me to demonstrate." He roughly pushed Kris aside and stood up, pulling his jeans down before gesturing toward the couch and the chairs. "See? All this space? All just waiting for you to sit down. So there's no need--" Adam broke off as Kris grabbed his hand and tugged on it.
"There is a need. I want to sit next to you. I'm...cold." Kris smiled up at Adam and tugged again.
Adam clenched his jaw as he felt red rush into his face. He should have left his makeup on longer after the show. "Get a hoodie, man. I"m not your blanket."
Kris whispered. "Please?"
Adam shoved his hands into his jean pockets and turned around without another word.
Scott stepped in. "Adam? Why are you grinding your teeth? I could hear it out in the hall."
"You're playing with fire.""
Kris grinned as he slid his arm around Adam's shoulder during an interview. Just, he told himself, to hear Adam laugh. Before Adam leaned forward and his arm fell away.
"You're playing with fire."
Kris stared at Adam's ass as he pulled the leather pants up in the dressing room. "Hey, Adam. I think you've lost weight. The pants are too loose."
"Excuse me?" Adam's head jerked around. "Mr. Baggy Jeans himself is commenting on the fit of my pants?"
"Yeah. I"m commenting. You told me during Hollywood week that my jeans were too loose and now I'm returning the favor."
Adam opened his mouth, then closed it, as his eyes narrowed. "Yeah, well...I care about fashion and..." He leered deliberately. "The fit of a man's pants. What's your excuse?"
Kris shrugged and kept his eyes on Adam's legs. "Just sayin'. Your pants are too loose. Your...uh... fans would probably prefer to see the...uh...goods better displayed."
"The goods displayed?" Adam slowly raised an eyebrow.
Kris licked his lower lip.
Adam licked his lower lip. Suddenly he shook his head and in a few long strides, opened the door and called out for the wardrobe mistress.
"You're playing with fire."
Kris tapped Adam's bracelet with his finger. Adam looked over at him, smiling. Kris broke their shared gaze and began to run his finger up the bare skin of Adam's arm, still slightly damp and heated from the show. They were in their dressing room, the last two, dawdling, talking as they often did in the few minutes before they had to emerge for another meet and greet. Adam had been rattling on a mile a minute while Kris listened, smiled, and often laughed at Adam's observations. And then... Adam's voice had stilled as he bent his head to watch Kris' finger move. Up over the inside crease of the elbow, then over the curve of his bicep, the skin bared as Adam had paused in changing out of the finale clothes into his usual tee-shirt.
"If you want..." Kris said huskily.
"If I want...what?" Adam asked, his voice deepening.
"You said in some stupid interview that you're not happy with your arms. The fans obviously think they look fine. So do I. But if you want, I could show you..." Kris lightly touched the skin under his finger, then slowly curled his hand around Adam's arm. "I could show you how to lift weights, do strength-training."
"Strength?" Adam echoed. "I could use some strength," he muttered almost inaudibly as he stared at Kris' face. "Before I--"
"GUYS!" The stage manager belllowed through the door. "These Jersey fans aren't gonna take no for an answer. Get out here before someone gets hurt."
"We wouldn't want that," Adam quipped as he pulled his arm away from Kris and reached for a shirt. Kris stared as a wash of red scorched up Adam's chest, over his neck, and climbed up his cheeks. The curse of a natural redhead.
"You're playing with fire."
Kris jumped onto the lift and immediately wrapped his spare arm around Adam's waist.
"Are you drunk?" Adam asked, leaning his head down to yell into Kris' ear.
"NO!" Kris yelled back. "Just...this lift isn't always steady. I need to hold on."
"But--"
"You want me to hold onto your butt instead?" Kris grinned and began to slide his hand over Adam's ass as the lift began to rise. He smiled broadly as the blue in Adam's eyes was nearly eclipsed by the darkness of dilating pupils.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Adam snapped as the lift began to appear over the stage. He pushed Kris aside. Oh, this was going to end. They were in New York. The timing couldn't be better, really. He knew people here.
Kris stared at Adam, feeling a wave of heat roll over him at the flare in Adam's eyes. He blinked as Adam suddenly tilted his head, lifted his microphone and instantly turned into performance mode as if their little interchange had never happened. And... turned toward Gokey. And smiled. Ouch. That burned. And Brad was going to be at the meet and greet afterwards. If Brad was in one of his moods -- and when wasn't he? -- that was going to burn even worse.
"You're playing with fire."
Before the music had silenced, before the lights had fully extinguished, Kris grabbed Adam for a hug. He rubbed his face against Adam's shoulder, then turned his head inward until his lips were so close to the warmth radiating from the deep open neck of Adam's vest. Before Adam patted Kris' back and moved away to vault down the backstage steps and toward the handler.
"I think someone's gonna get in trouble--" Anoop sing-songed in Kris' ear as they walked down the hallway.
"Get real," Danny groused as he followed them. "There's never trouble in the Kradam paradise."
"I dunno..." Allison looked from Kris to Adam. She heard Kris suck in a breath as he joined her and looked back at Adam. "Wow, he looks--"
"Someone's getting in trouble and it's not me!" Anoop laughed and ran toward the dressing room.
"Um, Kris? Baby?" Allison whispered. "If looks could...well, kill isn't the right word. I guess. Do you know what that look means?"
Kris tugged at his undershirt. "I think I need..."
Allison frowned. "You look overheated. Maybe you should take a shower, babe."
Chapter 2: Setting the Match to the Kindling
"You're playing with fire."
"Excuse me?" Kris wrinkled his nose as he turned, reluctantly, to face Brad. Smart-ass, smarth-mouth Brad. Who always seemed to know too much. Why, oh why, had Brad flown into New York for one of the shows? Oh hell, why was he asking? It was New York, the east coast mecca of gay culture and Brad always liked to be in the center of everything. God, where was Adam to get him out of this conversation or whatever the hell you called it when Brad had that look in his eyes? Kris turned and looked for Adam and let out a long breath when he caught sight of him near the bar. Adam, he thought silently. Get over here.
"You heard me. The first time I said it. Months ago. And right now." Brad made no attempt to hide his smirk as he leaned against the wall of the bland meet and greet room backstage. He shrugged as he looked around. The room in New York looked no different than the room in LA. And the look on Allen's face looked no different in New York than it had in LA. Kid had no poker face and wore jealousy like a red flag. "But you're going to pretend you didn't understand, because you think that's safer."
"Safer? What's safer?" Kris countered, remembering how Adam had once counseled him that throwing questions back was a good way to deflect paparazzi and other... He curled his lip in Brad's direction... other parasites. God, he couldn't stand Brad. Brad, his eyes said he knew too much, knew too much about Adam, that he saw.... Not that Kris was thinking that way, no...
"Oh, stop. You may be from Arkansas, but you're hardly a redneck rube, Allen." Brad reached out and plucked at the plaid sleeve of Kris' shirt. "But given that you're in New York, I do have some advice for you. You need to go shopping. Buy new clothes. Or better yet.. Buy a buttplug."
"A whhhhat?" Kris spluttered. He looked around frantically. If anyone heard Brad... oh god, like Gokey. Ugh.
"You know what a buttplug is, don't you? Even in ArKANsas, they must--"
"I know what the hell a buttplug is. What I don't know is--"
"How to insert one? Well, you start with lube. Lots of it in your case--"
"Why are we talking about this?" Kris groaned. Why wasn't he walking away?
"Because plaid is so declasse and we were talking about accessorizing your look." Brad grinned. Almost too easy.
"No. We were not. You were--"
""I'm getting bored with this. Too much foreplay and not enough follow-through.. It's boring. Cowardly. And..." Brad ran his hands down his thighs. "Could lead to being called nasty names such as--."
"Shut up," Kris interrupted. He glared at Brad, wanting to walk away, but somehow rooted to the spot on the thin carpetting. Waiting. Brad always knew something. About Adam. Damn it. Kris didn't want Brad knowing about Adam, he wanted... He looked away, found Adam staring at him with a particularly intense look, gasped, looked down, then at the wall over Brad's head. Kris bit his lip. He was in way over his head. A little late to figure that out, he told himself.
Brad snapped his fingers in Kris' face, his red face. "What, don't want to hear what you are? Too fucking bad. Or rather, too not fucking bad. Cocktease."
Kris curled his hand into a fist, then forced himself to relax. "You should just--"
Brad levered himself away from the wall, hips first. He smirked again, just to annoy Allen, just because he could, just because he knew what was in store for Allen and ran his finger down Kris' arm. "I'm just giving you fair warning. Again. Last time. Adam is the sweetest guy in the world, but you cannot push him too far. He can go from sweet to shove you against the wall in five seconds. So, unless you..."
Kris licked his lips. "Unless I what?"
Brad poked at Kris' bicep. Hmm. Nice. He flicked his glance up to Allen's face and had confirmation of what he'd suspected. "Oh, I see. You want to tease him, to push him because you want him to push you up against the wall...or the counter...or the table... pull down your pants, and plow into you until you scream for mercy. Well. Then. Just keep on teasing him and you'll get everything you want. And everything you didn't know you wanted."
Chapter 3: Blowing on the Spark
Kris put a hand up to his face. He wanted to groan. His face must be beet red. Geez, it felt like it was on fire. He looked around, embarrassed, then stopped. Oh god, no. Adam. Adam was looking at him. He had to... "I've gotta go somewhere."
"Go shopping! The stores you need are in Chelsea and are still open. Get the extra large. Ta ta!" Brad called out to Kris' receding back. He leaned back against the wall. An excellent show indeed.
Adam smiled automatically as he signed an autograph and watched the interplay between Kris and Brad out of the corner of his eye. Glancing over at his handler, he nodded and she interceded telling some fans he'd already met that he needed a personal moment. He gave them a broad smile but stalked over toward Brad, his determined strides eating up the floor.
"What were you saying to Kris?" Adam demanded as he watched Kris try to hide a scowl as he began working the room again.
"Kris Allen? Mr. Smalltown, All-American, Christian boy?" Brad grinned as he slid his arm around Adam's waist and leaned into his neck to whisper into his ear while keeping an eye on the room. The Gokester looked faintly nauseated, but then again he often did; he should buy the guy some Pepto. Although Gokey would make some crack about the bright pink color. Whatever. This was New York; no one else cared if he leaned into Adam, except for... Oh yes. The glare could kill, if it weren't so obvious and presh.
Adam felt a gaze, something personal, touching him. Not the avid curious gaze of a fan, but something more intense, something he knew... He looked around, immediately spying Kris across the room, glaring at Brad's hands. "Why were you hanging on me, touching me?" Adam asked suspiciously as he leaned away and peered down. Brad was up to something. Evil and slightly malicious and... what else was in his eyes? Warmth and encouragement? About what? "What are you really doing?"
"You're too close to the situation to see the truth. Not that you can't handle it. You --"
"Just. Say. It." Adam gritted his back teeth. "You know I hate Tom Cruise."
Brad grinned conspiratorily. Just for shits and giggles, just because Kris was watching. Oh, he was glad he'd come to New York. "I know. Total closet case. Did you hear--"
"Like I give a shit about his closet or his short man syndrome. Say. It." Adam demanded.
"Ooooh. I always did like it when you got aggravated." Brad smiled and ran his finger down the bare skin of Adam's chest, while looking around Adam. Ah. Target achieved. How much time... "And I'm not the only one."
"What did you say to Kris?" Adam pressed, glaring down at Brad.
"I love how your mind went right to him. Him. Your cocktease non-boyfriend? Look at that face. Poor baby. He's so jea--"
"Brad." Adam began to roll his eyes. Brad knew him too well, knew his needs, could read his longings and he probably knew... He stopped as he caught Kris glaring at him. He did look jealous. Openly jealous.
"Adam?" Brad asked, his curiosity spiking at the thoughtful gaze Adam was training on Kris.
Adam tilted his head and stared back at Kris for a long moment, before turned back to look down at Brad. "I....see." He sucked his upper lip in. Damn it. He'd been trying to be the nice guy. Hell, he was the nice guy. The guy who didn't push someone who was out of their comfort zone waaaay out of their comfort zone, who didn't screw up a real friendship for, well, a screw, who ... was walking around with a bad case of blue balls and... He wasn't crazy. Kris was staring at him. Tonight, he was staring at him openly, in front of everyone, like.. Well, like Kris wanted to kill Brad. He looked back at Kris and allowed a slow smile to part his lips. He'd learned a long time ago that timing was everything. "What the hell did you say to Kris?"
Brad stepped back at the look in Adam's eyes. Aggravated with a touch of frustration and an interesting soupcon of smug. Ah. He knew Adam's limits, even if Kris did not. Yet, anyway. He shrugged, then tapped his own chest. "I've found a new career."
"Really." Adam quickly smiled as he waited for Brad's non-sequitur to make sense.
"Indeed. Apparently I excel at fluffing."
Adam choked and reached out to hold Brad by the shoulders. "Fluffing? Not porn. No. Honestly, Brad, if you need some money--"
"Oh honey, you are going to owe me, but--" Brad paused. He pursed his lips, danced his fingers up Adam's arm, stepped close, and whispered. "You don't even know how much. But I'm not the one who needs something...given to him. Straight up."
Adam burst out laughing. "Did he hear that?"
"No. He's..." Brad peered around Adam. "He's edging closer, coming up behind you. Which is SO the wrong position for him."
Adam shrugged and speculated. "Maybe he wants to be the top. Which is not--"
"Yeah. Sure. Teases like that don't top." Brad looked up and began to laugh at the sly, knowing amusement in Adam's face. "Okay, okay, you know how to tease too. In a whole different way. But... Stop trying to be the nice guy. Stop trying to give him space and time or whatever the hell you think you're giving him and--"
"Give him what he wants?" Adam began to laugh.
"What he needs, babe. What he needs." Brad tapped his fingers on Adam's chest again, while smiling. Adam's grins were always contagious. Life was good. He was so glad he'd come east for this show. As he'd hoped, the backstage performances were amaaazing. He raised his voice. "Offer to take him shopping. And... Well, well... Here comes the...what would it be? Arkansas Regular Infantry to rout me from my position?"
"We're supposed to do some more press, Adam. Let's go." Kris ignored Brad and slid his hand through Adam's arm and tugged on it.
"Really? After the show?" Adam asked, raising an eyebrow. He looked into Kris' eyes. Kris was... lying. Or hiding. What the hell... Too late for that. Seriously. He stared into Kris' eyes and murmured, "Really? That's unusual--"
"Yeah. Just came up." Kris looked down at his feet.
"Bet it did..." Brad muttered as he curled his hand around Adam's forearm.
"Must you make everything sexual?" Kris snapped. He flushed and felt a wave of anger or some other emotion that made his blood pound racing through him. He reached out and prised Brad's hand off of Adam's arm, before running his hand into Adam's front pocket and pulling him closer.
Chapter 4: Crackle, crackle
"What are we doing?" Adam asked as Kris pulled him down the hall toward a door where one of their press handlers was waiting.
"A video interview for a website."
"That's not what I meant. I don't wanna-"
"It's with that girl who likes you so much -- Michelle something or other. Go on!" Kris urged, sliding his hand down Adam's back until it was resting on the inward curve of his lower back. Should he? He looked down. That ass? Oh, he should. How could he resist? And what would Adam do in response? He kept sliding his hand down.
"What the--" Adam whirled around as they reached the open doorway. Enough was enough. Now that he knew, it was way past enough. Game on.
"We have an interview to do." Kris said in his blandest tone, looking up from under his lashes at Adam.
"We...do." Adam agreed, speaking slowly as he raised his hand and curled it around the back of Kris' neck. He slid his thumb up Kris' neck until he forcefully pushed Kris' chin up. "And afterwards, we're going to have a little interview of our own."
Kris caught his breath at the look in Adam's eyes. He couldn't look away. Hell, he couldn't even breathe. In fact, the only muscle working in his body was--
"Boys?" The handler asked, clearing her throat loudly.
Michelle chirped, "The...uh...videotape is running."
"And here I said I'd never made a sex tape," Adam said softly. Kris gasped. Adam smiled. He smiled down at Kris, then slid his hand around Kris' waist and hauled him forward. "Michelle."
"Adam!" Michelle grinned from ear to ear. "What's this I hear about a sex tape?"
"You'll be the first to know." Adam smiled as he leaned forward to enfold Michelle in a hug, while whispering, "So good to see you. Thank you."
"Oh, it's my pleasure." Michelle nodded as they sat down. "We have some questions from the fans."
"Oh, they're always good," Kris said agreeably. "Oh!" He squawked as Adam slid his hand through Kris' belt loop and hauled him down on the couch, nearly on top of him. "I...uh..." Kris blushed and slid away. Or tried to. Adam's hand came around his waist and held him in place. "Yeah, uh, good."
"Great. Here goes. Kris. If you could change one thing about your AI experience, what would it be?"
"I wouldn't change anything..." Kris paused as Adam snorted. "What? What?"
"How about your clothes?" Adam suggested. "We're in New York. You should go shopping. No, wait. I'll take you shopping."
Kris felt his face flame. He grabbed for a bottle of water and took a long drink before mumbling, "My clothes were fine. Are fine."
"For a guy who works in the auto section at Farm and Fleet, sure. But not for a nationally-known singer who--"
"What do you know about Farm and Fleet, Mr. Glam Rocker?" Kris reached up and touched the corner of Adam's eyebrow, then heard his handler clear her throat and abruptly pulled his hand away and stared at it, the glimmer of Adam's glittery eyeshadow glinting up from his fingertips.
"You may have forgotten. But you were talking about Farm and Fleet or Fleet Farm or whatever it's called while we were winding our way through the southland."
"You remember that?"
"I remember every word you've ever said, Kris. Even when you are waxing rhapsodic over dump cake, I remember." Adam spoke softly.
"Waxing rhapsodic?" Kris burst out laughing. "Who talks like that? No, I know. You do. You are unbelievable..." Kris trailed off as he saw that underneath the amusement in Adam's blue eyes lurked a darker heat.
"In what way?" The interview prompted when Kris and Adam seemed to just stare at each other.
"He... he is..." Kris stammered, then closed his eyes, shook his head and started again. Focus, Allen. "He is proof that you don't need to go to college to be well-read, articulate..." Kris shook his head. "I've been to college and I don't talk half as good--"
"Well." Adam interrupted with a grin. "Half as well."
Kris smiled back. "I know. I just like it when you correct me."
"You like to be corrected?" Adam pounced. "I do have that whip--"
"Guys?" The handler began to cough as she saw the avid look on the interviewer's face. The handler grimaced as the camera operator, wisely enough, panned to Michelle who was fanning her face.
Adam waited and when Kris said nothing, Adam smiled and began speaking. "I do love to read. I love to learn about other people's life experiences."
"You are insatiably curious about people," Kris interjected. "It's one of the things--"
"I'm insatiable in any number of ways." Adam smiled slowly. He watched Kris' eyes widen until the description, 'bug-eyed' seemed appropriate, then shrugged and turned to smile at the interviewer. "That's now. I wasn't much of a reader when I was a kid."
"You did like the X-men comic books," Kris blurted out, relieved that Adam's intense gaze was off of him.
"You remember that?" Adam turned his head to face Kris.
"I remember everything you've ever said, Adam." Kris smiled up at Adam. "Why did you like them, the comic books?"
The interviewer tossed her pages to the floor. Interviewing gold. Who needed questions with these two? The only question left to ask was when they were going to do it. Which, given what Adam had said earlier--
Adam nodded. "The X-men story is an allegory about being the outsider--"
"Which... you've felt like." Kris frowned and leaned into Adam's side. "Feel like, still. Even when it isn't realistic. In my opinion."
"Thank you, Mr. Allen, for your opinion. But I did feel like an outsider and for a long time--"
"Ridiculous. How could you be an outsider?" Kris touched Adam's chest, unconsciously petting the soft fabric under his hand. "You're not only on the inside, you're the... center. Everyone wants to be around you, everyone listens to you, waits for you. Everyone wants..."
"So you say. Since it's from your perspective, I'll allow that to go. But then, in the past, I felt like an outsider. Which is why, these days..." Adam focused his gaze on Kris. He paused, then placed his hand on Kris' knee before beginning to slide it up his thigh. "I prefer to be inside."
Michelle burst out laughing. The handler covered her face with her hands.
Kris froze. He could feel the heat from the lights. But that heat felt like an ice cube running down his back-- which might explain the dampness along his spine -- compared to the look in Adam's eyes. He knew he looked like a deer frozen in the headlights. The headlights being the gleam in Adam's eyes or maybe the sparkle from Adam's ring on the hand that was resting on his thigh. Although resting was probably the wrong word, given the grasp Adam had on his leg. The strong grasp.
Adam turned back to the interviewer and raised his eyebrow. "Michelle. Any other questions? Isn't there usually something about my crush on Kris or Kris' crush on me? Or something less...euphemistic?"
"Why, actually--" Michelle drawled. "There is! The fans wanted to know if--"
"Gotta pee!" Kris announced, vaulting to his feet.
NOTE: THIS ENTRY CONTAINS CHAPTERS 1-4. Story continues here: Playing with Fire: Chapter 5