The Newsboy - Part 2/3
Title: The Newsboy
Part 2: The Evening Edition
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Adam/Kris
Summary: Adam and Kris strike up a casual relationship on the streets of New York City but when one of them falls on hard times, the other comes to the rescue, refusing to take “no” for an answer.
Disclaimer: Pure fiction. I do not own anyone.
Warnings: angst
Adam was gone for five days, leaving on a Friday and coming back to NYC on the Wednesday. Once the taxi dropped him off at his condo, he anxiously rode the elevator up, unlocked his door, threw his luggage inside and locked the door, anxiously rode the elevator down, and ran out. While away, his mind was either on the job or on Kris. He felt horrible leaving a message for Kris about his unexpected trip but his boss’ short notice left him no choice. Adam had asked Kris once for his phone number but Kris didn’t have a cell and he didn’t want to give out his land line. Adam understood and didn’t understand - Kris confounded him sometimes and it drove Adam mad. Even though he and Kris never talked ‘preferences’, Adam couldn’t stop thinking about him in a special way - holding hands, kissing, loving - that little Southern boy had captured his heart without even trying. If Adam had any doubt about his feelings for the newsboy, this absence had answered his questions.
He was in love and hadn’t a clue what to do about it.
Adam was so caught up in his mental musings that he thought he’d overshot his favorite corner. He stopped quick and looked around. Yeah, there was the bank across the intersection … and the cosmetics store on the other corner … and there was the mailbox wallpapered in flyers … and there was the café literally next door to the newsstand.
The only thing missing was the newsstand …
… and Kris!
Where the newsstand should have been was a cart selling chachkis and tacky souvenirs. Adam ran around the block and the blocks adjacent to it in case his internal GPS was malfunctioning but eventually had to accept the fact that Kris was gone. He asked the staff of the café that shared the corner space and all they could tell him was on Monday Kris and his newspapers where there and the next morning it was gone and replaced with Lady Liberty crowns and Empire State paperweights.
A pain started blossoming in his chest; he had to get somewhere and think. Eventually, he made his way home and stepped out on his balcony, sucking in great gasps of air.
Think … think … think … think ….
Okay, today is Wednesday. Kris plays at that little dive in Brooklyn on Wednesday night. He scrolled through his contacts and found their number. It rang but went unanswered. He checked the time - 3:34pm. Maybe it was too early. To kill time he showered, put his clothes away, and showered again. He called again at 5:00 pm and it picked up.
“Can you tell me if Kris Allen is performing tonight?”
“Yeah, he is.”
Thank fuck.
“Thank you.”
He fell onto his couch and half laughed, half cried.
Adam refused to let Kris fall through his fingers again.
Calling this place a dive was being nice. But as Kris had said once, their money was as good as anywhere, especially when it was hard to come by. At the time, Adam had tried getting Kris hired at his advertising agency without the newsboy’s knowledge. He had casually asked his boss if there were any openings for demo singers - for jingles - but he was told ‘no’, they already had more than they used. Adam was going to keep his ear to the ground anyway in case some spot opened up.
In the meantime, Kris earned his living between occasional gigs and the newsstand. Now it was just the occasional gigs, as far as Adam knew. He’d got caught in a jam on the Brooklyn Bridge so by the time he got there, Kris was already on stage. Despite the recent upheaval, he still looked and sounded amazing. Adam found a table in a far corner, ordered a tonic & water, and munched on some over salted peanuts while the strains of “Ain’t No Sunshine” tried to rise above the inconsiderate patrons ignoring the performer. When Kris finished, the only applause was Adam and Kris noticed. The resigned look on the singer’s face brightened and he hurried off stage before returning with a drink and meeting up with them. Adam was on his feet and pulling his friend into a tight hug.
“Adam! … I can’t breathe!” Kris gasped and laughed.
The larger man let go so fast Kris nearly fell over. Adam caught him by the upper arms and sat him down.
“What happened man? I had a heart attack when I got back and you were gone.”
“Yeah, that … ,” Kris took a gulp of his beer, “Doc’s license was up for renewal and the fee was raised … he decided it wasn’t worth it so that was that.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Hey, you didn’t raise the rates, right? Well, I’ll just have to move on.”
“In New York?”
Kris took another gulp, “Wherever the work is.”
“You can’t!”
“Pardon?”
“I mean, this is New York, entertainment capital of the world. Surely you can find more gigs to keep you going. You’re too talented and incredible to give up without a fight.”
“Feels like I’ve been fighting all my life. I’m tired of fighting Adam … I just want a break.”
Adam reached out and took his friend’s hand, “It’s going to happen for you, I’m sure of it.”
They sat in silence for a few moments. Kris looked down at the table and Adam’s eyes followed. He was still holding the singer’s hand and his thumb was slowly brushing the tanned skin. Before Kris could pull away, Adam did. To cover up the awkward moment, he reached into his leather jacket, fished around the inside pocket, and came out with a business card.
“Here.”
“What’s this?”
“My business card … oh wait.” Adam took the card back and wrote on the back. “My business stuff is on the front and I wrote my personal address and cell and email on the back. If you EVER need ANYTHING, contact me - call … write … hell, show up at my door at four in the morning. Don’t ever think you have nowhere to go.”
“Adam … I … thank you,” Kris stuttered, cheeks blossoming with pink. “I am working … and I do have my apartment still ….”
“So consider me back-up.”
“Starsky to my Hutch?”
“Whatever man. Just remember me.”
“I’d never be able to forget you … even if I tried.”
Their conversation had taken a weird turn and Adam flagged down a server, ordering refills and some real food. After Kris slipped the business card into this wallet, the topic changed to music of the late 1960s. The two stayed and talked until they were kicked out at closing time. Adam offered to give Kris a ride home but he said he was good. They shook hand and went their separate ways.
Adam got into his car and watched Kris walk away until he disappeared into the dark. A strange sensation came over him … something akin to fear.
Weeks passed and Kris’ number of gigs started reducing until the only one he had left was Friday night, twice a month, at the pub. In the meantime, he reassured Adam that he was working but he wouldn’t say where. Adam was concerned - his friend was getting thinner and looking more and more tired as the weeks passed.
“Kris?”
“Hmmm?”
They had met in Central Park for a hot dog lunch.
“Move in with me.”
There … he said it.
Kris looked at him, wide-eyed, and started choking. Adam frantically pounded his back but the only thing stuck in the other man’s throat was his stunned reaction. Grabbing a handful of napkins, he emptied his mouth and started to laugh.
“Choking isn’t funny Kristopher!”
“Not … laughing … at that,” he gasped.
“Then you’re ….”
“You can’t be serious,” Kris managed to say.
“I am.”
“Adam … come on, you can’t honestly mean that ….”
“I mean it … quit your day job and move in with me. You can concentrate on your music … I know people. Kris?”
Apparently humor of the situation, from Kris’ point of view anyway, disappeared.
“You are serious.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t. Come on! It makes perfect sense.”
“To you maybe but not to me.” Kris picked up his garbage from the bench they sat on and got up. “I gotta go,” he quickly declared.
“You just got here.”
“I … I can’t deal with this.”
Adam jumped to his feet.
“Look, if I upset you, forget it. Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain. Forget I said anything, just stay and finish your lunch!”
Kris sped up, nearly jogging, “I have somewhere to be.”
“Kris!” Adam yelled after him, “Call me at least!”
The newsboy waved a hand in the air and ran off.
What the fuck happened … seriously what … the … fuck.
The rest of the day Adam couldn’t concentrate at work. He left, citing food poisoning and wandered the streets. He told himself he wasn’t looking for his friend but he was. He passed THAT street corner several times as if time would reverse and Kris would be there saving him the latest copy of Rolling Stone.
The following morning, he’d gotten himself out of his funk and back to work. He’d see Kris in two days at the pub. By then he’d have the perfect apologize rehearsed.
Unfortunately he didn’t get the opportunity.
“What do you mean he quit?!” he screeched at the pub manager.
“He called and said he wasn’t coming in tonight … or any night.”
“Well, he must have given some explanation.”
“All he said was he was sorry and he hung up. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to find a new singer.”
Adam walked out in a haze. How was he going to get hold of him now? Was this his fault … did he push too hard? By the time he walked home, he’d concluded it had been his fault. Obviously he’d read the signals wrong and scared Kris away, even though it was a purely innocent offer - he’d just invited him to use the guest room, not his bed. When Adam got home, he dug into the back of his closet and pulled out the winter coat he “loaned” Kris last winter. Lying on the couch, he held it tight to his chest, imaging he could smell the other’s cologne lingering in the fur liner of the hood.
It was early June but for Adam, the night was suddenly very cold.
Adam slept with that winter coat for three days before he realized how pathetic he was being. He didn’t put it back in storage but kept it draped over a chair by the door. When he had a free evening, which wasn’t often, he called those clubs asking if Kris was performing but no luck. If he heard somebody talking about a singer that looked and sounded like Kris, Adam went to check it out but came back disappointed each time.
Eventually, he gave up. Obviously Kris didn’t want to be found.
It was 4:17am on a September morning and Adam was horribly lost. He’d been in Boston for a meeting and rather than stay one more night, he just had this need to be home even if it meant driving nearly four hours. Four hours extended to nearly seven when he took the wrong cut off. Eventually he located signs directing him back to New York but the highway was under construction and a detour took into a particularly shitty area. There weren’t many people walking around that early so it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what those scantily dressed people lingering on corners and alley entranceways were up to.
“Hey sexy … $25 for a blowjob … $50 for a fuck … $60 for both.”
Startled, Adam’s head turned to the passenger window and a woman who could have been anywhere between 20 and death. She looked nasty and reeked of pot.
“N-no thanks … not interested.”
“$10 for the blowjob.”
“No thanks.”
She shrugged, “Eh, don’t know what you’re missing.”
“I’m sure I do.”
She walked away and Adam put his foot on the gas, wanting to get as far away as he could. He turned a corner and slammed the brakes when a homeless man with a grocery cart walked out in front of him. Waiting for the man to cross, Adam looked around for his own safety and spotted a familiar figure on the corner leaning against a filthy building and trying not to look terrified.
Oh hell no …
An old, beat up car pulled up to the curb and the young man leaning against the wall looked both ways down the sidewalk before strolling over and leaning into the window to talk. He had on skin tight jeans and an unbuttoned plaid shirt, showing off his flawless tanned skin and toned body. Adam obviously couldn’t hear what was being said but he saw the young man shaking his head several times before he nodded and looked around before getting in the car.
Kris, you fucking idiot!
Wasting no time, Adam followed them. If there wasn’t the slightest chance Kris could have gotten hurt if he cut off that sicko’s car, Adam would have. Instead, he decided to follow and stop anything before it started. The old car headed over a bridge then turned right. Adam went to turn right when a drunk stumbled out into his path and he had to hit the brakes. He yelled out the window for the guy to move. After getting the finger and being sworn at with drunken gibberish, he was able to drive again. He turned right but couldn’t see the car. It took about ten minutes driving up and down the street before he spotted the car parked at a rundown motel, the kind with stairs on the outside leading to the rooms. Adam caught a quick glimpse of the two men entering through a door just as he pulled in.
Before the engine had shut off, Adam was out and taking the stairs two at a time, bolting down the walkway. Reaching the door he tried the knob but it was locked.
“OPEN THIS DOOR!!!!!” he screamed as he pounded on it.
The door remained lock but he paused long enough in his pounding to hear something going down inside. Two voices were arguing, then shouting. There was a crash and someone cried out in pain. Adam didn’t think, he just kicked the door in. Losing his balance, he fell on his knees right beside a bleeding face … that didn’t belong to Kris. Looking up, he saw his friend standing there, alternating between shaking his hand and rubbing his knuckles. His jeans were undone and hanging low on his hips, his briefs still up. Without a word Adam got to his feet, took hold of Kris’ undamaged hand and proceeded to drag him out of the room.
“You bitch! I’m filing assault charges!” the john on the floor screamed after them.
Kris held back and replied with a great deal of anger, “You do that and I’ll be sure to tell them you were paying me for sex!!!!”
Adam nearly dragged Kris downstairs. The stream of foul, foul language spewing out of that cute Southern mouth was funny and a little hot. When they reached the parking lot, Adam let go so Kris could get the rest of the rage out of his system. The only comment Adam made was to remind Kris to zip up his pants.
He had wanted to read Kris the riot act but it was painfully obvious Kris was madder at himself than Adam was. As his friend paced and yelled into the dark morning, Adam looked around to make sure they weren’t in trouble. He was truly surprised no one appeared earlier when the door came crashing down. Maybe that was a sign that disturbances were common around here. Well, they weren’t common for Adam and he was getting really uncomfortable. When Kris finally ran out of steam, face hidden in his hands, Adam took it as a sign to get them the hell out of there.
It had been a looooonnnnngggg morning … night, … whatevah the hell you wanted to call it … by the time the two men reached Adam’s place. The car ride back into Manhattan had be silent and it was probably for the best - neither of them were in a mind to talk about what happened … and why it happened … and why it wasn’t going to happen again. As the sun rose, Adam showed Kris the guest suite and insisted he shower and sleep. Afterwards they could talk. The last thing Adam did before he collapsed into his own bed was call in sick to work.
Early afternoon marked the next time Adam opened his eyes. The condo was silent and he peeked into the guest room, afraid he’d find it empty. Rather he found Kris still fast asleep, the king-sized bed making him look small and frail. Adam hadn’t had much of a chance to think about Kris’ appearance during that misguided adventure but gazing now, he could see the sunken cheeks and dark rings under his eyes.
Whatever led Kris to make this decision was going to stop if Adam had any say about it.
First things first, they needed to eat, especially Kris. Not one to cook often, Adam put the coffee pot on and fanned through his collection of menus, picking a place nearby that served good Southern cooking. Just before finishing his order he added if the delivery person could manage to pick up a half dozen cronuts there would be a huge tip in it for them.
“Wha time izzz it?”
Kris leaned against the doorframe, wrapped in a robe Adam kept for guests. His brown hair was everywhere and he was adorably barefoot. Rubbing his stubbly chin Adam noticed the swollen and bruised knuckles.
“Just after 1:30,” Adam replied as he dug into the freezer and pulled out an ice pack. “You can be one tough badass when you want to. Here.”
“Thanks,” Kris dully responded, “for this … and for last night. But how the hell did you know where to find me?”
Adam gestured to the table and Kris sat while Adam poured two coffees. He knew exactly how Kris took it and joined him at the table with the steaming mugs.
“Call it fate or a messed up detour. How I got there doesn’t matter - what does is how you got there.”
“I guess I owe you an explanation.”
Adam just nodded, sipping his coffee and trying not to wince at the pain in his knee from kicking that door down.
“I guess I should start from the beginning. God, when I left Arkansas, I never imagined my life would end up like this.” Rather than drink his coffee, Kris chose to stroke the handle and rim and stare into the light brown liquid instead of Adam’s eyes. “I … I had a good life … a great life growing up. I come from a small town, had dreams bigger than my reality, but I was happy with things. I have … had lots of friends, the prettiest girl in town on my arm … I had it all. Then, I don’t know, I started college in a new city and things changed. I met new people, discovered new ways of thinking … learned a lot about myself.” He paused and took a sip. “Good coffee.”
“You learned a lot about yourself?”
“Yeah, like I didn’t belong back home anymore. Everything I grew up believing seemed wrong and I just couldn’t … face them. The morning of graduation, I packed my bags and left before my parents and girlfriend showed up for the ceremony.”
“So you headed for New York then.”
“Not at first. I didn’t have a lot of money so I took it job by job, making enough to pay for a bus ticket and hotel someplace else. It was either LA or New York and the bus turned east so I ended up here.”
“I imagine selling newspapers and magazines wasn’t your dream job.” Kris shook his head and had another sip so Adam continued, “What did you go to college for?”
“Business admin.” Adam cocked an eyebrow and Kris chuckled sadly, “Yeah, I know I’m not the type.”
“I thought it would have been something music related. You’re a natural.”
“Well, that’s why I wanted to move to LA or New York … to try my hand at it. Worked for a while and then everything fell apart.”
“Sooo, about that ….”
They were interrupted by the door buzzer. While Adam went to the door to get their lunch - and cronuts - Kris refilled Adam’s mug exactly how he liked it. Lunch was set on the counter and forgotten when the long awaited conversation continued.
“Doc decided to give up the newsstand for good and I found myself out of a regular job. I had my singing gigs, and some savings, but I did a lot of odd jobs. Then some of the gigs started falling through. I still had the Friday night gig until my asshole landlord locked me out. I fell behind on the rent and he padlocked my apartment with all my belongings inside, including my guitar. I couldn’t perform without it and I’d used up all my savings. I had ten days to pay what I owed or else he was auctioning my stuff, keeping the money, and kicking me out for good.”
Adam’s heart broke for his friend. It is one thing to be without your belongings … it’s another to lose a part of you; Kris’ guitar is like a third arm and he must be lost without it.
“I’m sorry ba - Kris. But why …?”
The young man got up from the table and wandered into the living room. Adam followed.
“I was running out of time, the jobs just weren’t there. It was the only option I could think of.”
Adam bit the inside of cheek; there had been another option.
“Have … have you ever … you know …,” he just couldn’t say it.
“No! Oh God, no.” Kris half laughed, half cried. “I even sucked at that … well, you know what I mean.”
“Good, good … I mean that you hadn’t done that before. So, ummm, what are your going to do now?”
“Look for another job.”
“You know you could have called me.”
Kris started pacing, “No … no, I couldn’t.”
“My number locked in your apartment too?”
“N-no, I have it with me.”
Adam had had enough of this. He headed back to the kitchen and started unpacking lunch. Kris followed like a puppy.
“What are you doing?”
“Setting out lunch,” Adam replied matter-of-factly. “After we eat, we’re both getting dressed and finding your landlord.”
“But I don’t have the money yet.”
“Yes you do. I’m going to pay your rent and then you can get back into you place and use that guitar of yours to start making money like the incredible musician that you are.”
“Adam ….”
“I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer.”
“Well, I’m not taking your money!”
Adam paused taking the plastic lid off the bbq chicken and counted to ten … backwards … and slowly.
It didn’t work.
Lunch forgotten once again, Adam finally exploded.
“WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO STUBBORN!!!!!”
“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, DAMN IT!!!! … I … oh God … I … I love you.”
Kris’ face washed over with so much emotion - anger, giddiness, relief, fear. Adam didn’t know what to do so he held onto the chicken.
“I … I can’t … I don’t know … it just happened,” Kris babbled, “… you amaze me and terrify me … I ….”
Forgetting the chicken, Adam covered the space between them in a heartbeat. Face to face, body to body, Adam gazed into those warm brown eyes as his fingers braced Kris’ face, thumbs tenderly stroking his jaw. Kris looked up at him unblinking and breathless. The moment he leaned into the touch, Adam captured quivering lips with a slow kiss full of promise. Kris responded tentatively before letting go and giving in. A week could have passed and they wouldn’t have noticed. Reluctantly they came up for air. Adam drew Kris into an all-encompassing hug, large hand rubbing his back and nose buried in the sweet brown hair.
“I have news for you this time Kristopher - I love you too.”
Part 2: The Evening Edition
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Adam/Kris
Summary: Adam and Kris strike up a casual relationship on the streets of New York City but when one of them falls on hard times, the other comes to the rescue, refusing to take “no” for an answer.
Disclaimer: Pure fiction. I do not own anyone.
Warnings: angst
Adam was gone for five days, leaving on a Friday and coming back to NYC on the Wednesday. Once the taxi dropped him off at his condo, he anxiously rode the elevator up, unlocked his door, threw his luggage inside and locked the door, anxiously rode the elevator down, and ran out. While away, his mind was either on the job or on Kris. He felt horrible leaving a message for Kris about his unexpected trip but his boss’ short notice left him no choice. Adam had asked Kris once for his phone number but Kris didn’t have a cell and he didn’t want to give out his land line. Adam understood and didn’t understand - Kris confounded him sometimes and it drove Adam mad. Even though he and Kris never talked ‘preferences’, Adam couldn’t stop thinking about him in a special way - holding hands, kissing, loving - that little Southern boy had captured his heart without even trying. If Adam had any doubt about his feelings for the newsboy, this absence had answered his questions.
He was in love and hadn’t a clue what to do about it.
Adam was so caught up in his mental musings that he thought he’d overshot his favorite corner. He stopped quick and looked around. Yeah, there was the bank across the intersection … and the cosmetics store on the other corner … and there was the mailbox wallpapered in flyers … and there was the café literally next door to the newsstand.
The only thing missing was the newsstand …
… and Kris!
Where the newsstand should have been was a cart selling chachkis and tacky souvenirs. Adam ran around the block and the blocks adjacent to it in case his internal GPS was malfunctioning but eventually had to accept the fact that Kris was gone. He asked the staff of the café that shared the corner space and all they could tell him was on Monday Kris and his newspapers where there and the next morning it was gone and replaced with Lady Liberty crowns and Empire State paperweights.
A pain started blossoming in his chest; he had to get somewhere and think. Eventually, he made his way home and stepped out on his balcony, sucking in great gasps of air.
Think … think … think … think ….
Okay, today is Wednesday. Kris plays at that little dive in Brooklyn on Wednesday night. He scrolled through his contacts and found their number. It rang but went unanswered. He checked the time - 3:34pm. Maybe it was too early. To kill time he showered, put his clothes away, and showered again. He called again at 5:00 pm and it picked up.
“Can you tell me if Kris Allen is performing tonight?”
“Yeah, he is.”
Thank fuck.
“Thank you.”
He fell onto his couch and half laughed, half cried.
Adam refused to let Kris fall through his fingers again.
Calling this place a dive was being nice. But as Kris had said once, their money was as good as anywhere, especially when it was hard to come by. At the time, Adam had tried getting Kris hired at his advertising agency without the newsboy’s knowledge. He had casually asked his boss if there were any openings for demo singers - for jingles - but he was told ‘no’, they already had more than they used. Adam was going to keep his ear to the ground anyway in case some spot opened up.
In the meantime, Kris earned his living between occasional gigs and the newsstand. Now it was just the occasional gigs, as far as Adam knew. He’d got caught in a jam on the Brooklyn Bridge so by the time he got there, Kris was already on stage. Despite the recent upheaval, he still looked and sounded amazing. Adam found a table in a far corner, ordered a tonic & water, and munched on some over salted peanuts while the strains of “Ain’t No Sunshine” tried to rise above the inconsiderate patrons ignoring the performer. When Kris finished, the only applause was Adam and Kris noticed. The resigned look on the singer’s face brightened and he hurried off stage before returning with a drink and meeting up with them. Adam was on his feet and pulling his friend into a tight hug.
“Adam! … I can’t breathe!” Kris gasped and laughed.
The larger man let go so fast Kris nearly fell over. Adam caught him by the upper arms and sat him down.
“What happened man? I had a heart attack when I got back and you were gone.”
“Yeah, that … ,” Kris took a gulp of his beer, “Doc’s license was up for renewal and the fee was raised … he decided it wasn’t worth it so that was that.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Hey, you didn’t raise the rates, right? Well, I’ll just have to move on.”
“In New York?”
Kris took another gulp, “Wherever the work is.”
“You can’t!”
“Pardon?”
“I mean, this is New York, entertainment capital of the world. Surely you can find more gigs to keep you going. You’re too talented and incredible to give up without a fight.”
“Feels like I’ve been fighting all my life. I’m tired of fighting Adam … I just want a break.”
Adam reached out and took his friend’s hand, “It’s going to happen for you, I’m sure of it.”
They sat in silence for a few moments. Kris looked down at the table and Adam’s eyes followed. He was still holding the singer’s hand and his thumb was slowly brushing the tanned skin. Before Kris could pull away, Adam did. To cover up the awkward moment, he reached into his leather jacket, fished around the inside pocket, and came out with a business card.
“Here.”
“What’s this?”
“My business card … oh wait.” Adam took the card back and wrote on the back. “My business stuff is on the front and I wrote my personal address and cell and email on the back. If you EVER need ANYTHING, contact me - call … write … hell, show up at my door at four in the morning. Don’t ever think you have nowhere to go.”
“Adam … I … thank you,” Kris stuttered, cheeks blossoming with pink. “I am working … and I do have my apartment still ….”
“So consider me back-up.”
“Starsky to my Hutch?”
“Whatever man. Just remember me.”
“I’d never be able to forget you … even if I tried.”
Their conversation had taken a weird turn and Adam flagged down a server, ordering refills and some real food. After Kris slipped the business card into this wallet, the topic changed to music of the late 1960s. The two stayed and talked until they were kicked out at closing time. Adam offered to give Kris a ride home but he said he was good. They shook hand and went their separate ways.
Adam got into his car and watched Kris walk away until he disappeared into the dark. A strange sensation came over him … something akin to fear.
Weeks passed and Kris’ number of gigs started reducing until the only one he had left was Friday night, twice a month, at the pub. In the meantime, he reassured Adam that he was working but he wouldn’t say where. Adam was concerned - his friend was getting thinner and looking more and more tired as the weeks passed.
“Kris?”
“Hmmm?”
They had met in Central Park for a hot dog lunch.
“Move in with me.”
There … he said it.
Kris looked at him, wide-eyed, and started choking. Adam frantically pounded his back but the only thing stuck in the other man’s throat was his stunned reaction. Grabbing a handful of napkins, he emptied his mouth and started to laugh.
“Choking isn’t funny Kristopher!”
“Not … laughing … at that,” he gasped.
“Then you’re ….”
“You can’t be serious,” Kris managed to say.
“I am.”
“Adam … come on, you can’t honestly mean that ….”
“I mean it … quit your day job and move in with me. You can concentrate on your music … I know people. Kris?”
Apparently humor of the situation, from Kris’ point of view anyway, disappeared.
“You are serious.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t. Come on! It makes perfect sense.”
“To you maybe but not to me.” Kris picked up his garbage from the bench they sat on and got up. “I gotta go,” he quickly declared.
“You just got here.”
“I … I can’t deal with this.”
Adam jumped to his feet.
“Look, if I upset you, forget it. Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain. Forget I said anything, just stay and finish your lunch!”
Kris sped up, nearly jogging, “I have somewhere to be.”
“Kris!” Adam yelled after him, “Call me at least!”
The newsboy waved a hand in the air and ran off.
What the fuck happened … seriously what … the … fuck.
The rest of the day Adam couldn’t concentrate at work. He left, citing food poisoning and wandered the streets. He told himself he wasn’t looking for his friend but he was. He passed THAT street corner several times as if time would reverse and Kris would be there saving him the latest copy of Rolling Stone.
The following morning, he’d gotten himself out of his funk and back to work. He’d see Kris in two days at the pub. By then he’d have the perfect apologize rehearsed.
Unfortunately he didn’t get the opportunity.
“What do you mean he quit?!” he screeched at the pub manager.
“He called and said he wasn’t coming in tonight … or any night.”
“Well, he must have given some explanation.”
“All he said was he was sorry and he hung up. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to find a new singer.”
Adam walked out in a haze. How was he going to get hold of him now? Was this his fault … did he push too hard? By the time he walked home, he’d concluded it had been his fault. Obviously he’d read the signals wrong and scared Kris away, even though it was a purely innocent offer - he’d just invited him to use the guest room, not his bed. When Adam got home, he dug into the back of his closet and pulled out the winter coat he “loaned” Kris last winter. Lying on the couch, he held it tight to his chest, imaging he could smell the other’s cologne lingering in the fur liner of the hood.
It was early June but for Adam, the night was suddenly very cold.
Adam slept with that winter coat for three days before he realized how pathetic he was being. He didn’t put it back in storage but kept it draped over a chair by the door. When he had a free evening, which wasn’t often, he called those clubs asking if Kris was performing but no luck. If he heard somebody talking about a singer that looked and sounded like Kris, Adam went to check it out but came back disappointed each time.
Eventually, he gave up. Obviously Kris didn’t want to be found.
It was 4:17am on a September morning and Adam was horribly lost. He’d been in Boston for a meeting and rather than stay one more night, he just had this need to be home even if it meant driving nearly four hours. Four hours extended to nearly seven when he took the wrong cut off. Eventually he located signs directing him back to New York but the highway was under construction and a detour took into a particularly shitty area. There weren’t many people walking around that early so it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what those scantily dressed people lingering on corners and alley entranceways were up to.
“Hey sexy … $25 for a blowjob … $50 for a fuck … $60 for both.”
Startled, Adam’s head turned to the passenger window and a woman who could have been anywhere between 20 and death. She looked nasty and reeked of pot.
“N-no thanks … not interested.”
“$10 for the blowjob.”
“No thanks.”
She shrugged, “Eh, don’t know what you’re missing.”
“I’m sure I do.”
She walked away and Adam put his foot on the gas, wanting to get as far away as he could. He turned a corner and slammed the brakes when a homeless man with a grocery cart walked out in front of him. Waiting for the man to cross, Adam looked around for his own safety and spotted a familiar figure on the corner leaning against a filthy building and trying not to look terrified.
Oh hell no …
An old, beat up car pulled up to the curb and the young man leaning against the wall looked both ways down the sidewalk before strolling over and leaning into the window to talk. He had on skin tight jeans and an unbuttoned plaid shirt, showing off his flawless tanned skin and toned body. Adam obviously couldn’t hear what was being said but he saw the young man shaking his head several times before he nodded and looked around before getting in the car.
Kris, you fucking idiot!
Wasting no time, Adam followed them. If there wasn’t the slightest chance Kris could have gotten hurt if he cut off that sicko’s car, Adam would have. Instead, he decided to follow and stop anything before it started. The old car headed over a bridge then turned right. Adam went to turn right when a drunk stumbled out into his path and he had to hit the brakes. He yelled out the window for the guy to move. After getting the finger and being sworn at with drunken gibberish, he was able to drive again. He turned right but couldn’t see the car. It took about ten minutes driving up and down the street before he spotted the car parked at a rundown motel, the kind with stairs on the outside leading to the rooms. Adam caught a quick glimpse of the two men entering through a door just as he pulled in.
Before the engine had shut off, Adam was out and taking the stairs two at a time, bolting down the walkway. Reaching the door he tried the knob but it was locked.
“OPEN THIS DOOR!!!!!” he screamed as he pounded on it.
The door remained lock but he paused long enough in his pounding to hear something going down inside. Two voices were arguing, then shouting. There was a crash and someone cried out in pain. Adam didn’t think, he just kicked the door in. Losing his balance, he fell on his knees right beside a bleeding face … that didn’t belong to Kris. Looking up, he saw his friend standing there, alternating between shaking his hand and rubbing his knuckles. His jeans were undone and hanging low on his hips, his briefs still up. Without a word Adam got to his feet, took hold of Kris’ undamaged hand and proceeded to drag him out of the room.
“You bitch! I’m filing assault charges!” the john on the floor screamed after them.
Kris held back and replied with a great deal of anger, “You do that and I’ll be sure to tell them you were paying me for sex!!!!”
Adam nearly dragged Kris downstairs. The stream of foul, foul language spewing out of that cute Southern mouth was funny and a little hot. When they reached the parking lot, Adam let go so Kris could get the rest of the rage out of his system. The only comment Adam made was to remind Kris to zip up his pants.
He had wanted to read Kris the riot act but it was painfully obvious Kris was madder at himself than Adam was. As his friend paced and yelled into the dark morning, Adam looked around to make sure they weren’t in trouble. He was truly surprised no one appeared earlier when the door came crashing down. Maybe that was a sign that disturbances were common around here. Well, they weren’t common for Adam and he was getting really uncomfortable. When Kris finally ran out of steam, face hidden in his hands, Adam took it as a sign to get them the hell out of there.
It had been a looooonnnnngggg morning … night, … whatevah the hell you wanted to call it … by the time the two men reached Adam’s place. The car ride back into Manhattan had be silent and it was probably for the best - neither of them were in a mind to talk about what happened … and why it happened … and why it wasn’t going to happen again. As the sun rose, Adam showed Kris the guest suite and insisted he shower and sleep. Afterwards they could talk. The last thing Adam did before he collapsed into his own bed was call in sick to work.
Early afternoon marked the next time Adam opened his eyes. The condo was silent and he peeked into the guest room, afraid he’d find it empty. Rather he found Kris still fast asleep, the king-sized bed making him look small and frail. Adam hadn’t had much of a chance to think about Kris’ appearance during that misguided adventure but gazing now, he could see the sunken cheeks and dark rings under his eyes.
Whatever led Kris to make this decision was going to stop if Adam had any say about it.
First things first, they needed to eat, especially Kris. Not one to cook often, Adam put the coffee pot on and fanned through his collection of menus, picking a place nearby that served good Southern cooking. Just before finishing his order he added if the delivery person could manage to pick up a half dozen cronuts there would be a huge tip in it for them.
“Wha time izzz it?”
Kris leaned against the doorframe, wrapped in a robe Adam kept for guests. His brown hair was everywhere and he was adorably barefoot. Rubbing his stubbly chin Adam noticed the swollen and bruised knuckles.
“Just after 1:30,” Adam replied as he dug into the freezer and pulled out an ice pack. “You can be one tough badass when you want to. Here.”
“Thanks,” Kris dully responded, “for this … and for last night. But how the hell did you know where to find me?”
Adam gestured to the table and Kris sat while Adam poured two coffees. He knew exactly how Kris took it and joined him at the table with the steaming mugs.
“Call it fate or a messed up detour. How I got there doesn’t matter - what does is how you got there.”
“I guess I owe you an explanation.”
Adam just nodded, sipping his coffee and trying not to wince at the pain in his knee from kicking that door down.
“I guess I should start from the beginning. God, when I left Arkansas, I never imagined my life would end up like this.” Rather than drink his coffee, Kris chose to stroke the handle and rim and stare into the light brown liquid instead of Adam’s eyes. “I … I had a good life … a great life growing up. I come from a small town, had dreams bigger than my reality, but I was happy with things. I have … had lots of friends, the prettiest girl in town on my arm … I had it all. Then, I don’t know, I started college in a new city and things changed. I met new people, discovered new ways of thinking … learned a lot about myself.” He paused and took a sip. “Good coffee.”
“You learned a lot about yourself?”
“Yeah, like I didn’t belong back home anymore. Everything I grew up believing seemed wrong and I just couldn’t … face them. The morning of graduation, I packed my bags and left before my parents and girlfriend showed up for the ceremony.”
“So you headed for New York then.”
“Not at first. I didn’t have a lot of money so I took it job by job, making enough to pay for a bus ticket and hotel someplace else. It was either LA or New York and the bus turned east so I ended up here.”
“I imagine selling newspapers and magazines wasn’t your dream job.” Kris shook his head and had another sip so Adam continued, “What did you go to college for?”
“Business admin.” Adam cocked an eyebrow and Kris chuckled sadly, “Yeah, I know I’m not the type.”
“I thought it would have been something music related. You’re a natural.”
“Well, that’s why I wanted to move to LA or New York … to try my hand at it. Worked for a while and then everything fell apart.”
“Sooo, about that ….”
They were interrupted by the door buzzer. While Adam went to the door to get their lunch - and cronuts - Kris refilled Adam’s mug exactly how he liked it. Lunch was set on the counter and forgotten when the long awaited conversation continued.
“Doc decided to give up the newsstand for good and I found myself out of a regular job. I had my singing gigs, and some savings, but I did a lot of odd jobs. Then some of the gigs started falling through. I still had the Friday night gig until my asshole landlord locked me out. I fell behind on the rent and he padlocked my apartment with all my belongings inside, including my guitar. I couldn’t perform without it and I’d used up all my savings. I had ten days to pay what I owed or else he was auctioning my stuff, keeping the money, and kicking me out for good.”
Adam’s heart broke for his friend. It is one thing to be without your belongings … it’s another to lose a part of you; Kris’ guitar is like a third arm and he must be lost without it.
“I’m sorry ba - Kris. But why …?”
The young man got up from the table and wandered into the living room. Adam followed.
“I was running out of time, the jobs just weren’t there. It was the only option I could think of.”
Adam bit the inside of cheek; there had been another option.
“Have … have you ever … you know …,” he just couldn’t say it.
“No! Oh God, no.” Kris half laughed, half cried. “I even sucked at that … well, you know what I mean.”
“Good, good … I mean that you hadn’t done that before. So, ummm, what are your going to do now?”
“Look for another job.”
“You know you could have called me.”
Kris started pacing, “No … no, I couldn’t.”
“My number locked in your apartment too?”
“N-no, I have it with me.”
Adam had had enough of this. He headed back to the kitchen and started unpacking lunch. Kris followed like a puppy.
“What are you doing?”
“Setting out lunch,” Adam replied matter-of-factly. “After we eat, we’re both getting dressed and finding your landlord.”
“But I don’t have the money yet.”
“Yes you do. I’m going to pay your rent and then you can get back into you place and use that guitar of yours to start making money like the incredible musician that you are.”
“Adam ….”
“I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer.”
“Well, I’m not taking your money!”
Adam paused taking the plastic lid off the bbq chicken and counted to ten … backwards … and slowly.
It didn’t work.
Lunch forgotten once again, Adam finally exploded.
“WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO STUBBORN!!!!!”
“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, DAMN IT!!!! … I … oh God … I … I love you.”
Kris’ face washed over with so much emotion - anger, giddiness, relief, fear. Adam didn’t know what to do so he held onto the chicken.
“I … I can’t … I don’t know … it just happened,” Kris babbled, “… you amaze me and terrify me … I ….”
Forgetting the chicken, Adam covered the space between them in a heartbeat. Face to face, body to body, Adam gazed into those warm brown eyes as his fingers braced Kris’ face, thumbs tenderly stroking his jaw. Kris looked up at him unblinking and breathless. The moment he leaned into the touch, Adam captured quivering lips with a slow kiss full of promise. Kris responded tentatively before letting go and giving in. A week could have passed and they wouldn’t have noticed. Reluctantly they came up for air. Adam drew Kris into an all-encompassing hug, large hand rubbing his back and nose buried in the sweet brown hair.
“I have news for you this time Kristopher - I love you too.”