Intermission
Title: Intermission
Author: janescott
Fandom: Adam Lambert RPF
Work Type: Fic
Characters: Adam Lambert/Kris Allen
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: (if any) N/A
Written For: indusnm
Summary: Er, porn. Without plot. Little bit of schmoop. Beta'd by i_bleed_magenta
It’s the silence that wakes him up. Adam blinks, disoriented for a moment, then several things slot into place.
It’s Friday.
He’s in bed, curled around a warm body. And they have three days off, worked out somehow by the combined magic of Lane and Kris’ new PA.
“Kris,” Adam murmurs, unable to take the absolute silence alone any longer. “Wake up.”
Kris mutters something unintelligible and burrows down under the sheets.
Adam grins but persists, pressing himself against Kris’s naked back and nipping lightly at his shoulder. “Kris. Wake up.” Adam slides his hand down Kris’s side, and over his hip, smiling as he lightly feathers his fingers over Kris’s cock - morning-hard and already leaking a little bit.
“Kris,” he says again, pitching his voice lower as he rubs his thumb over the tip, smearing pre-come.
Kris digs in to the bed again, but Adam catches a half-smirk on his face and bites his shoulder harder in retaliation.
“It was your idea to come out here,” Adam murmurs, keeping his voice low and relishing the effect the reverberation is having as Kris squirms under his hand.
He slides his fingers down Kris’s length again, feather light strokes that pull sweet little moans from Kris’s throat.
“Remember? You said ‘we bought the damn cabin, Adam, we should use it’.”
“I remember,” Kris says, his voice low and soft around the edges with sleep. “This isn’t - uh, ah - what I m-meant.”
“Oh, you want me to stop? Okay …” Adam slides his fingers down again, curling them around the base of Kris’s now-hard cock and squeezing.
Kris arches his back, pushing against Adam, a high, breathy sound curling up and out of his mouth.
“Adam.” He forces the word out, high and strained, as Adam slowly strokes up his length again, tightening his fingers this time.
“Adam,” Kris says, lower but more desperate, like there’s no other words he knows right now. Adam bites down on his lip, hard before drawing his hand back slowly, trailing it over Kris’s narrow hip.
Kris rolls on to his back, blinking slowly in the morning sunlight as Adam searches in the nightstand drawer.
He finds what he’s looking for and slicks his fingers up slowly, watching as Kris’s eyes track the movement of his hands as he resettles on the bed, opening his legs and arching his back again. His cock is flushed and hard against his stomach and as Adam teases Kris’s hole with one lube-slick finger, he flicks his tongue over the head of Kris’s cock, tasting the beading drops of pre-come.
Kris groans again, quiet, as Adam slides a finger in, working in slowly at first until Kris makes an impatient twist of his hips, his hands tangled in the sheets.
They have three days to themselves in the quiet of the cabin and the woods - three days of no work; no publicity; no paparazzi; no gossip columns with endless speculation - it’s just the two of them, and the sun climbing higher in the sky.
Adam works slowly, taking Kris apart a piece at a time, knowing exactly what to do, which buttons to push to have him gasping and sweating just from the touch of Adam’s hand and his mouth.
Adam never gets tired of this - of the way Kris opens up to him; the way his body reacts to Adam’s touch; the way he keeps his eyes open, pinned to Adam’s face, even as words desert him in a slow slide into moans and red-bitten lips.
“Adam.”
Then: “Please,” Kris’s voice rough and on the edge of completely desperate as Adam teases him just a little bit longer, his own cock aching with need.
Finally, he can’t wait any more, Kris’s desperate, raspy pleas going straight through him. He pushes in slow and it’s easy and familiar, but still feels like the first time, every time.
Kris locks his legs around Adam’s hips, digging his fingers into Adam’s biceps, arching up as he bites his bottom lip again, now-loud moans escaping.
The sounds he’s pulling from Kris’s throat makes Adam fuck into him harder and faster, until everything is a blur of skin and sweat. His orgasm builds fast and hot, coiling like lava at the base of his spine and he lets out his own shout as it hits him like a punch to the gut.
Kris has his hand curled around his own cock, and he’s working it fast and tight, spilling over his stomach, his back arching and his voice hoarse and ragged.
Adam pulls out as gently as he can and falls back on to the bed, feebly pushing at the tangle of sheets.
He spreads his arms wide, and Kris rolls to his side, resting his chin on Adam’s chest and blinking in the bright early morning light, sunlight reflecting off the glassy surface of the lake.
Adam feels tension he didn’t know he had bleed out of his shoulders as he wraps an arm around Kris’s waist, letting himself drift into a contented doze.
He vaguely hears Kris moving after a few minutes, getting off the bed and murmuring something about breakfast. In response, Adam sprawls his limbs out over the bed and grunts, not opening his eyes.
He feels Kris kiss him, briefly, on the forehead, and then water running in the bathroom.
Adam drifts in and out of sleep for a while, content to let the bone-deep exhaustion he rarely admits to take control. The smell of coffee and the sizzle of bacon cooking draws him to the waking world and away from a confused dream of performing on stage wearing his mother’s wedding dress while an audience of drag queens throw peacocks at him.
Muttering and rubbing his face, Adam sits up, and gropes for the pair of jeans he’d discarded by the bed the night before. He pulls them on and zips them up as he makes his way to the open-plan living/kitchen area of the cabin, which is all light wood and glass; warm and morning-sun flooded.
Kris is in the kitchen, humming something Adam doesn’t recognise, as he piles two plates with bacon, eggs and toast.
Adam perches on a stool at the island bar, and smiles when Kris hands him a steaming hot cup of coffee.
“This is why I love you,” he says, as Kris pushes a plate towards him.
“You always know just what I need.”
Author: janescott
Fandom: Adam Lambert RPF
Work Type: Fic
Characters: Adam Lambert/Kris Allen
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: (if any) N/A
Written For: indusnm
Summary: Er, porn. Without plot. Little bit of schmoop. Beta'd by i_bleed_magenta
It’s the silence that wakes him up. Adam blinks, disoriented for a moment, then several things slot into place.
It’s Friday.
He’s in bed, curled around a warm body. And they have three days off, worked out somehow by the combined magic of Lane and Kris’ new PA.
“Kris,” Adam murmurs, unable to take the absolute silence alone any longer. “Wake up.”
Kris mutters something unintelligible and burrows down under the sheets.
Adam grins but persists, pressing himself against Kris’s naked back and nipping lightly at his shoulder. “Kris. Wake up.” Adam slides his hand down Kris’s side, and over his hip, smiling as he lightly feathers his fingers over Kris’s cock - morning-hard and already leaking a little bit.
“Kris,” he says again, pitching his voice lower as he rubs his thumb over the tip, smearing pre-come.
Kris digs in to the bed again, but Adam catches a half-smirk on his face and bites his shoulder harder in retaliation.
“It was your idea to come out here,” Adam murmurs, keeping his voice low and relishing the effect the reverberation is having as Kris squirms under his hand.
He slides his fingers down Kris’s length again, feather light strokes that pull sweet little moans from Kris’s throat.
“Remember? You said ‘we bought the damn cabin, Adam, we should use it’.”
“I remember,” Kris says, his voice low and soft around the edges with sleep. “This isn’t - uh, ah - what I m-meant.”
“Oh, you want me to stop? Okay …” Adam slides his fingers down again, curling them around the base of Kris’s now-hard cock and squeezing.
Kris arches his back, pushing against Adam, a high, breathy sound curling up and out of his mouth.
“Adam.” He forces the word out, high and strained, as Adam slowly strokes up his length again, tightening his fingers this time.
“Adam,” Kris says, lower but more desperate, like there’s no other words he knows right now. Adam bites down on his lip, hard before drawing his hand back slowly, trailing it over Kris’s narrow hip.
Kris rolls on to his back, blinking slowly in the morning sunlight as Adam searches in the nightstand drawer.
He finds what he’s looking for and slicks his fingers up slowly, watching as Kris’s eyes track the movement of his hands as he resettles on the bed, opening his legs and arching his back again. His cock is flushed and hard against his stomach and as Adam teases Kris’s hole with one lube-slick finger, he flicks his tongue over the head of Kris’s cock, tasting the beading drops of pre-come.
Kris groans again, quiet, as Adam slides a finger in, working in slowly at first until Kris makes an impatient twist of his hips, his hands tangled in the sheets.
They have three days to themselves in the quiet of the cabin and the woods - three days of no work; no publicity; no paparazzi; no gossip columns with endless speculation - it’s just the two of them, and the sun climbing higher in the sky.
Adam works slowly, taking Kris apart a piece at a time, knowing exactly what to do, which buttons to push to have him gasping and sweating just from the touch of Adam’s hand and his mouth.
Adam never gets tired of this - of the way Kris opens up to him; the way his body reacts to Adam’s touch; the way he keeps his eyes open, pinned to Adam’s face, even as words desert him in a slow slide into moans and red-bitten lips.
“Adam.”
Then: “Please,” Kris’s voice rough and on the edge of completely desperate as Adam teases him just a little bit longer, his own cock aching with need.
Finally, he can’t wait any more, Kris’s desperate, raspy pleas going straight through him. He pushes in slow and it’s easy and familiar, but still feels like the first time, every time.
Kris locks his legs around Adam’s hips, digging his fingers into Adam’s biceps, arching up as he bites his bottom lip again, now-loud moans escaping.
The sounds he’s pulling from Kris’s throat makes Adam fuck into him harder and faster, until everything is a blur of skin and sweat. His orgasm builds fast and hot, coiling like lava at the base of his spine and he lets out his own shout as it hits him like a punch to the gut.
Kris has his hand curled around his own cock, and he’s working it fast and tight, spilling over his stomach, his back arching and his voice hoarse and ragged.
Adam pulls out as gently as he can and falls back on to the bed, feebly pushing at the tangle of sheets.
He spreads his arms wide, and Kris rolls to his side, resting his chin on Adam’s chest and blinking in the bright early morning light, sunlight reflecting off the glassy surface of the lake.
Adam feels tension he didn’t know he had bleed out of his shoulders as he wraps an arm around Kris’s waist, letting himself drift into a contented doze.
He vaguely hears Kris moving after a few minutes, getting off the bed and murmuring something about breakfast. In response, Adam sprawls his limbs out over the bed and grunts, not opening his eyes.
He feels Kris kiss him, briefly, on the forehead, and then water running in the bathroom.
Adam drifts in and out of sleep for a while, content to let the bone-deep exhaustion he rarely admits to take control. The smell of coffee and the sizzle of bacon cooking draws him to the waking world and away from a confused dream of performing on stage wearing his mother’s wedding dress while an audience of drag queens throw peacocks at him.
Muttering and rubbing his face, Adam sits up, and gropes for the pair of jeans he’d discarded by the bed the night before. He pulls them on and zips them up as he makes his way to the open-plan living/kitchen area of the cabin, which is all light wood and glass; warm and morning-sun flooded.
Kris is in the kitchen, humming something Adam doesn’t recognise, as he piles two plates with bacon, eggs and toast.
Adam perches on a stool at the island bar, and smiles when Kris hands him a steaming hot cup of coffee.
“This is why I love you,” he says, as Kris pushes a plate towards him.
“You always know just what I need.”