FIC: Attached
Title: Attached
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 6,000
Summary: Sometimes the best things in life are accidents. Teacher!Adam, dad!Kris.
Notes: Got a little carried away with a porn prompt. Oh well. Also, FML I can't cross off anything on kradingo with this one! I can say that both the jealous and New York ones will be gone soon, though...
*
Kris didn’t expect this.
Mr. Lambert sounded perfectly normal and nice and teacher-like on the phone, so when Kris walks into his office to discover a leather-clad, emo-haired, ear-pierced, tattooed rocker on the other side of a desk, he’s taken aback, to say the least.
*
Kris didn’t expect this.
Mr. Lambert sounded perfectly normal and nice and teacher-like on the phone, so when Kris walks into his office to discover a leather-clad, emo-haired, ear-pierced, tattooed rocker on the other side of a desk, he’s taken aback, to say the least.
“Mr. Allen, Melanie’s father?”
Kris nods and takes the offered hand. “Kris.”
“Adam. Nice to meet you,” he says easily, and gestures for Kris to sit in the chair. The desk is too thin or something, because Kris feels like he and the drama teacher are much closer to each other than a normal one would allow. It’s not weird, it’s just... Adam’s eye contact is really, amazingly good and it’s hard for Kris to meet it straight on so close up.
“So she’s been taking losing the part pretty hard,” Kris says.
Adam shrugs. “This sort of thing is normal. She got her hopes up.”
“Guess I shouldn’t have helped her with that try-out,” Kris says, grinning. “Only did more damage.”
Adam’s laugh is musical. “She’s very talented. That’s what makes it hard for her to accept. I don’t know what she’s told you she’s been up to in theater class.”
Kris tried to get his daughter to fess up when he first got the call from Mr. Lambert about her behavior. But Melanie kept her mouth shut, an eight-year-old discovering the potential of avoiding punishment.
“She wouldn’t tell me,” Kris says, kicking a stray pen on the floor of the tiny room. “She probably called her mom to whine about it. I’m not usually the one she’d tell.”
Adam arches an eyebrow. “And your wife...?”
“We’re not married,” Kris says quickly, and catches Adam’s barely-there glance down to his ring-finger. “Or together. She’s in L.A. right now, for acting.”
Adam looks delighted. “Runs in the family!”
“Hey, she gets the music from me,” Kris says, and at the same time notices that the tiny room is covered from ceiling to floor in music posters.
The biggest one is of Bowie in his Ziggy garb, smack dab to the right of the desk on the wall behind Adam. Then there’s the Stones, Hendrix, the musical Hair, a group called Goldfrapp, Iggy Pop, Lady GaGa (amusingly), and a whole lot more Kris hasn’t heard of.
“You got a lot of music on your walls for an acting teacher,” he observes.
He can see Adam watching him in his peripheral vision as he looks around a little more.
“I go both ways,” Adam says after a moment. It’s clearly a joke, so Kris laughs appropriately, but he also wants to kill himself because he can tell his cheeks have gone at least a faint pink.
Maybe Adam doesn’t notice, though, for he goes on to describe how Melanie’s been mean to the girl who did get the role.
“But I’m sure if you talk to her, you’ll find she’s pretty upset and probably feels bad about it. She’s just been let down and this happens all the time. It’s her first experience with it. She’s a good kid, Kris,” he says, and Kris’ eyes shoot up to meet Adam’s, oh so steady and very blue. “I can always tell a good kid.”
Kris swallows. “That’s nice to hear.”
It’s strange that all the air has gone out of the room, suddenly. There wasn’t any particular trigger, but Adam keeps staring at him and Kris just has this weird feeling it’s a good stare, maybe.
The only problem is it’s preventing Kris from doing his own staring; Adam is this fascinating clash of wholesome and badass. Mostly badass.
“I just thought I’d let you know,” Adam continues. “In case you weren’t aware. And I always like to do things in person.”
“Right,” Kris says, clearing his throat. “Of course. I’ll talk to her right when I get home.”
Only... only Kris doesn’t want to go home, yet.
“So, you got any questions for me?” Adam asks, his voice a little breathy. He takes off his jacket with a rattle of zippers to reveal a black, silver studded tank top thing, which cannot possibly fit teacher dress code regulation even though it accommodates a tie. But it is getting hot in here.
Kris runs a hand through his hair, tries to think of any pathetic excuse to prolong the visit. “You do theater as a career, or...”
It’s lame, Kris knows, but Adam indulges the borderline-irrelevant half-question. “Used to. Got bored of acting myself, so now I just teach elementary school kids. Singing’s my main thing.”
“Really? You any good?”
The corner of Adam’s mouth turns up and something dances in his eyes. “Pretty good, yeah.”
“I bet,” Kris says softly, without thinking, and Adam’s grin grows. The desk is oddly small. Being so close to this, goddammit, to this mind-blowingly hot man in front of him is like staring into the sun.
It’s weird to admit it to himself even though it’s been over a year since he started telling people about this side of his sexuality - Katy was the first. But now the evidence is, well... in his pants. It’s embarrassing and exciting at the same time.
“You seem like the starving artist type,” Adam says, eyes grazing over him for the millionth time.
Kris sighs. “I guess I can’t really deny that. I play and sing, yeah.”
“You’re pretty young.”
The comment makes Kris choke, but he covers it up as best he can. “To have a daughter? Yeah. She was an amazing, amazing accident,” he says, trying to laugh. But he can’t relax. Adam’s arms are just so... distracting.
Adam doesn’t laugh either. “Sometimes the best things in life are accidents.”
Kris nods but he really has no idea what they’re talking about anymore.
“What do you play?” Adam asks. And either Kris is insane (quite possible) or Adam’s voice seems to be getting deeper and deeper.
Kris flicks a stapler on the table, trying to do something with his hands. But he mumbles, “Guitar, mainly and - ”
And out of nowhere Adam grabs it mid-flick, his left one. “Callouses,” he says, sounding far away as he drifts his finger tips over Kris’.
Honestly, what the hell. This situation is getting plain ridiculous but Kris really can’t complain, as he’s letting it happen, letting his hand get fondled, for God’s sake, not only by a stranger, but by his daughter’s teacher. And it’s making his breath get stuck in his throat.
“Piano,” he chokes out after way too long. “Viola, too.”
“Multi-talented,” Adam whispers, and then his eyes meet Kris’ again. Dark lashes lowered over flecked blues. There’s no mistaking the implication.
The only sound for a moment is their breath. Adam doesn’t let go of Kris’ hand.
“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Kris finds himself blurting out. “I’ve never - ”
“You’re gorgeous,” Adam says.
“ - been with a man,” Kris finishes, unable to keep his voice far from a squeak.
A few pulse-pounding seconds go by and then Adam is pulling Kris’ hand up. Raising it to his mouth, licking down the middle finger slowly and deliberately, down to the palm and then to the wrist and back up.
Kris is shuddering all over and so, so hard. He can’t do anything but watch as Mr. Lambert laves each finger with his tongue, taking care to scrape the flat of it and then his teeth over the callouses. It’s the hottest thing Kris has ever seen; he can’t believe it’s real.
“Come up,” Adam says between licks after a minute or two, and it takes so long for the demand to get through Kris’ brain that Adam just starts pulling by the arm. Up and onto the desk, sending papers and supplies and crap everywhere. Adam arranges Kris’ legs on either side of himself and runs a firm hand up his thigh while pressing one very small, very wet kiss to the center of Kris’ palm.
It’s too much. Kris lets out a moan, restrained hopefully so that no passerby (unless they were conveniently just outside the door) could hear. But it’s enough to make Kris worry that he won’t be able to keep it quiet if Adam keeps doing that to his hand, or to any place else, really.
Luckily, Adam shuts him up with a kiss.
They don’t start slow. Kris is almost twenty-eight now, but in seconds they’re making out like teenagers. Only that’s stupid because Adam is an absolutely amazing kisser, so ridiculously experienced and it’s just insane the way his tongue can move, one minute biting Kris’ bottom lip and the next stroking all in his mouth everywhere. Kris used to love the idea of being someone’s first, of discovering sexuality together, but for some reason the idea that Adam has done this before - way more times than he has - is just beyond hot.
Adam starts pressing his lips everywhere, all over Kris’ forehead and jaw and throat, says, “You know I don’t normally,” kiss, “ravish my student’s parents,” kiss, “like this.” Kiss.
“I so mind,” Kris says as Adam licks his cheekbone, then starts laughing.
He pulls back, still smiling and looking at Kris warmly. “You’re so cute,” he says, and kisses him on the mouth again.
But now Kris is spoiled, so he runs a hand down Adam’s chest, as confidently as he can manage, scraping with his nails. Drags it over a nipple - Adam’s breath hitches because ohmygod it’s pierced - and over his super-tight jeans to rest on his inner thigh, crazy close to the obvious bulge there. Kris grips and releases, still just on the edge of Adam’s dick, but then Adam gets impatient and just grabs his hand and smashes it right on top.
They both groan. Adam is... absolutely huge in Kris’ palm, he’s almost scared. But his hand doesn’t seem to be, squeezing and stroking of its own volition while Adam’s legs drop open a little wider, encouraging.
Kris’ position on the desk, while perfect for making out, does not allow enough access for him to open Adam’s zipper, so Kris finds himself dropping into his lap with his thighs wide and draped over Adam’s. Kris frees Adam’s cock hastily - when did he get so eager, jesus - and grips it at the base, preparing to start stripping it like he would his own.
But Adam, who’s been busy sucking various areas on Kris’ jaw and neck, stops him. “Woah there, baby,” he says, voice all husky in a way that goes straight to Kris’ dick. “Slow down or this is gonna be over real fast.”
Kris nods, feels the sweat on the back of his neck. It’s seriously hot in here.
“Tell me what you want,” Adam breathes onto the trail of wetness left on Kris’ neck, and that pretty much wipes any remaining coherence he might’ve still had. But he knows what he wants.
He slides off Adam’s lap, drops to his knees. Adam looks down at him, pupils completely blown, and lets out a tiny, breathy whine. The sound is like triumph in Kris’ ears, all the encouragement he needs to lean forward and give a tentative swipe with his tongue around the head of Adam’s cock.
“Yeah, like that, take me in, god...”
Kris does, and it’s crazy weird and nerve-wracking and totally amazing at the same time. He doesn’t know what he’s doing but Adam doesn’t seem to mind, guiding his head and pulling at Kris’ hair so hard it’s probably sticking up everywhere.
Kris spends a minute or two trying to figure out what the hell to do with his tongue, sticking with the motion that gets the tightest hair pull, and then swallows down a little more, as far as he can. Suddenly, Adam’s hand lands on Kris’ where it’s gripping his thigh and brings it to fist the rest of Adam’s seriously huge cock where Kris’ mouth can’t quite make it.
His heart is beating a mile a minute. Adam makes all kinds of sounds, and it’s Kris’ drug, almost, the way he goes after them, picking up speed and chasing the feeling he’s giving.
But then Kris swallows again, hard, midway down, and Adam starts talking.
“Fucking perfect, so hot, baby, can’t believe you’ve never, wanna take you home, wanna do everything to you, everything for you.”
Kris can’t help it. He moans, lets the vibrations sing in his throat, and Adam really gets going, really starts fucking his mouth, to the point where Kris knows it’s gotta be almost over.
“Would take such good care of you, just like that, god, I’m right -- I’m, oh, right there, wanna fuck you so hard - ”
Kris has to shove his hand into his crotch to stop from coming at that, and then Adam’s words meld together into a slew of moans and dirty nonsense; Kris feels the rush under his lips, and as he attempts to swallow, the ache in jeans becomes unbearable to the point where he’s seriously about to lose it with no contact at all.
He really fails at swallowing, but Adam doesn’t seem to mind, eyes huge and fascinated at the sight of Kris pathetically wiping come off his chin and cheeks.
He’d be embarrassed, normally, or flush, or mumble - but right now he’s so turned on he just has to look up at Adam once and then he’s being dragged up by surprisingly strong arms.
Encircling him in the chair, Adam gives a lazy smile and reaches for Kris’ cock, so desperately hard and leaking an unbelievable amount.
One or two pulls and Kris is gone, making high pitched noises and clutching at Adam’s amazing broad shoulders and back.
Normally, that self-satisfied smirk on a guy’s face would piss Kris off - on Adam, it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.
It’s so hot he’s still thinking about it when he stumbles through the door, home, the bright, sharp image burned behind his eyes.
He blinks, bleary, at his daughter who’s sitting on the couch.
She turns off the TV and looks around at him, face pulled with worry.
“Daddy, am I in big trouble?”
Kris melts and heads over to her. “Honey, no - ”
“What did Mr. Lambert do?”
Kris stops dead, a thousand images flashing through his brain like a pornographic flip-book.
“I, uh, he... um,” he tries, but none of the words seem to want to form sentences.
Allison chooses that moment to emerge from the bathroom, thank all the fucking gods, saving him from acting like a complete fool.
“Yo, Kris,” she says, bouncing over to him. “I believe you owe me some moolah.”
Kris immediately relaxes. The girl is awesome, and a super cool babysitter. Plus, Melanie loves her. “Yup, right here, and little extra cause I’m... later than I expected.”
Allison eyes him, suspicious. Kris pats down his hair nervously. But she takes the cash.
“Damn straight. See ya girlfriend!” she calls to Melanie, who rushes over with a bounce of brunette pigtails to offer a big hug. Kris doesn’t even have the energy to point out her language.
When Allison leaves, Kris has the planned conversation with Melanie, which goes reasonably well. She cries a little and confesses to knocking over the girl’s lunch, but promises to apologize and work extra hard in drama class the next day. Kris kisses her goodnight and wraps himself in his own covers, but he knows sleep is a long way away. He’s hard again, Adam’s touch still so strong and present in his mind, ghosting around his body. He tries not to jerk off, but after hours of doing nothing but fantasizing about his daughter’s teacher, he gives up.
Right as he’s drifting off, sated at last, he wonders if maybe it’s not only Adam himself that’s got him so wound up, but the situation - he’s never done anything like that in his life, never really considered himself a thrill seeker or took many risks. But now he gets why people do.
-
While Kris is doing a little spring cleaning on his day off and Melanie’s at school, the phone rings. He dives for it, about eight toys in one hand and a mop in the other.
And he drops it - all of it - at the sound of the voice in his ear.
“I’m pretty sure your daughter’s been acting up again.”
Kris takes a second to pull himself together. He’s torn between confusion, as he thought he’d gotten through to Melanie last night, and being way, way too turned on unnaturally fast.
“Are you?” he says after a moment, steady.
“Yes,” Mr. Lambert says. “Very.”
He’s already more than halfway hard in his jeans. “I’m on my way.”
He may or may not run a red light on the drive to the school, and he receives several funny looks as he dashes through the halls like a madman. He reaches Adam’s office in minutes, bursting through the door to find him sitting there in his chair, gripping the desk tightly.
He looks up, surprised, but then his eyes darken. He rises from his seat, slow.
Kris clears his throat. “Mel’s not acting up, is she.”
“No,” Adam says, taking a step forward. “Not at all.”
There’s maybe a second of silence, and then Kris’ back is being slammed against the - thankfully solid - door.
This is really pretty wrong, what they’re doing, grown men attacking each other with lust right in the middle of the school day. Kids are probably walking by the office right now, wondering about all the noise in Mr. Lambert’s office.
As Adam slips lower to suck on the side of Kris’ jaw - he really does seem to love Kris’ jaw - Kris says rather feebly, “Don’t you think we should at least lock the door?”
Without detaching his mouth, Adam skillfully reaches around and turns the lock, then uses the same hand to palm Kris through his jeans.
Kris clutches at Adam’s tie and makes an embarrassing amount of noise. “Shit,” he says, face turning bright red at the thought of some innocent fifth grader hearing that.
Adam smirks that infuriating smirk of his and only tightens his grip. “Gotta keep it down,” he says into Kris’ ear, voice low. “Of course the banging of the desk might draw some attention, but there’s nothing we can really do about that.”
“Banging of the - ? ”
But he loses the words as he finds himself being manhandled once again over to the desk, Adam’s big hand on the back of his neck bending him over it with his arms splayed knocking things over and his ass in the air.
“Mother of fuck,” he says weakly, but Adam shushes him with a soft kiss to his ear.
“Here we go, sweetie,” Adam says, and he sounds so damn pleased as he pulls Kris’ jeans down. “Gotta have some around here,” he mumbles, rummaging around, just leaving Kris like that with his bare ass exposed. “Don’t normally fuck guys in my office, but I was sitting here, Kris, thinking about you, and I just...”
The words are oddly sweet, considering the position they’re in. But then Adam’s fingers drift, soaked, over Kris’ hole and a response never makes it past his lips.
They start circling there, tentative. Adam says, “You okay with this?” and Kris thinks the sounds he’s making are pretty far from a no, and since when was Adam concerned about his lack of experience? But he forces his brain into action anyway.
“Yeah, yeah, just... god, keep going.”
Kris really wishes he could see Adam right now but then again he can barely keep his eyes open as Adam presses in a fingertip. It’s hardly there and Kris can’t help but push back, desperate for a sharp feeling, seeking a mind-blowing sensation he knows is only a moment away.
Adam wiggles it around a little, palms Kris’ ass with the other hand, keeping him spread. “Thought about you all last night, Kris. Coming into my office, no idea how hot you were.”
Kris’ gasp turns into a moan and he earns himself a deeper slide, the hint of another fingertip pressing at the rim. Adam squirts more lube and lets it run down over Kris’ hole, removes his fingers to streak them through it.
“Knew I wasn’t going to be able to control myself,” he says, returning with two, thank god, pressing in fast, rubbing deep and making sparks go off behind Kris’ eyes.
He’s flailing so hard his feet are off the ground. “How long - jesus, how long do we have?” he chokes out.
“Not long enough,” Adam says, voice pouty, ridiculous. Kris really, really wants to turn around and look at him, but that would mean losing the fingers in his ass and that’s not happening. “We gotta move on,” Adam says, adding a third finger, and Kris shudders all over, palms so sweaty he can’t get a grip anywhere. “Which is too bad because I’m having the time of my life back here. But I don’t want to have to explain why I’m late to my third graders.”
Kris laughs, heart bursting in his chest - Adam is hilarious and sweet and so goddamn hot.
“Deep breaths for me,” Adam says, and quickly replaces his fingers with the head of his cock (when did he get the condom on?), pressing in a little.
“Want this?” he asks, so low Kris barely hears it.
Kris takes the breaths, suddenly nervous. Adam’s cock was pretty damn huge in his mouth. But if feels as good as his fingers did, it’s gonna be worth it. “Need it, c’mon,” Kris says, and Adam makes a strangled little whine and pops the head in, fast and big.
“Fuck,” Kris says, clunking his head down on the desk.
“Baby, you good?” Adam breathes, voice cracking like he’s on the edge of passing out.
Kris reaches back, takes one of Adam’s hands in his. “Please, just... keep going.”
Adam squeezes Kris’ fingers and pushes, slow, slow, slow. It doesn’t take that long to get all the way in, and mother of fuck it feels weird, but a kind of weird he could get used to, maybe.
Adam’s hips stutter and he nudges even deeper, a tiny gasp of breath leaving his lips like he can’t help himself.
“Oh my god,” Kris says, because oh my god.
“Good?” Adam pants.
“Fucking move,” Kris demands, pushing back and grinding because all his shame is gone.
Adam runs his hands up Kris’ shirt over the planes of his back - why on earth did they leave it on? - and pulls out, all the way, so the head is just putting a tiny bit of pressure on Kris’ hole.
For a moment the only sound is their breathing, fast and heavy.
Kris waits for a minute, because honestly he can’t believe that Adam is stopping again. He can’t be serious.
“For fuck’s sake,” Kris says once he can’t take it anymore, flipping over to face Adam’s shocked eyes. “Fuck me, Adam, I want it.”
He grabs Adam’s ass and forces him forward again, wraps his legs around his body and it’s delicious heat. Adam falls over him, pushes back in, braces himself against the desk, and finally starts going for it.
It’s better than Kris could have possibly imagined. The angle is heaven, and with their faces inches away, it’s even more intense. Adam never closes his eyes once, boring into Kris’ when he’s not busy running his gaze over Kris’ sweaty neck.
“So hot,” Adam says, leaning in to lick a stripe along Kris’ collar bone. “Can’t believe, so hot, Kris.”
Kris is done talking. His mouth just hangs open and he concentrates on making as little noise as possible, rocking his hips up as best as he can, over and over.
And then Adam grabs his cock, pumps once, twice, and Kris is gone, coming so hard it hits Adam’s chest, sprays up his navy collared shirt.
Kris is about to apologize, something, but Adam only groans - long and loud - and smashes his mouth against Kris’, slamming his hips home again and again.
Kris moans weakly in response to the stuttering slide of Adam’s cock, but then Adam slows and collapses, right as the bell rings.
He curses, pulling out (Kris flinches) and hastily unbuttoning his ruined shirt.
“Can I borrow yours?” he asks, voice choked and throaty.
Kris glances down at his disgustingly sweaty, hideously inappropriate ‘I’d Trade My Girlfriend For a Coke’ t-shirt.
“Um. Sure, if you want,” Kris says, out of breath, still sprawled on the desk with no pants on. “But what will I wear out?”
Adam throws his soiled one on top of him, grinning and shirtless. Kris finds himself inexplicably grossed out and turned on at the same time. “This or nothing,” Adam says.
Kris removes his own shirt, tosses it to him. “Think I’ll have to go with nothing,” he says, and grins back. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t keep the shirt.”
Adam’s smile falters a bit but he nods, looking away. He gathers his stuff and makes sure he’s presentable.
“I gotta go,” he says, after a moment. “This has been... fun. Amazing.”
Kris hops off the desk and goes for his pants, heart sinking at Adam’s tone - finality.
Adam unlocks the door. “Guess I’ll see you around.”
And Kris kind of wants to die because that’s code for ‘never.’
“Wait!” he shouts, as Adam sticks his foot out into the hall. He freezes, eyes raking over Kris, a seriousness in them that Kris has no idea of the meaning.
“Why did you keep stopping, before,” he mumbles.
Adam’s seriousness deepens, standing tall and stoic. After a moment he sighs and says, “Wanted to make it last.”
And then Kris is shirtless and alone in a ruined office in an elementary school, feeling oddly empty.
-
He’s sick all the next day, and it gets worse that Sunday. He calls Allison from his bed, a couple of tissues stuck up his nose muffling his voice.
“You sound terrible,” says Allison, concerned. “I can get there at one and keep her busy and stuff. I’ll stay as long as you need, don’t worry.”
“You’re a life saver,” Kris grumbles after a fit of coughing.
Next thing he knows, Allison’s bright red head is there in his face. “Dude! You look like a piece of - ”
“I know, I know,” Kris says quickly. “So this isn’t really a standard baby sitter task...”
Allison rolls her eyes. “Oh please. It’s not like Charles is going to sit here and take care of you and Mel. Please, I don’t mind. Besides, your house is the only place I can sing without being yelled at.”
Allison scurries off to play with Melanie, but Kris can’t fall back asleep. Goddamn him, he’s such a cliché. The first man he has sex with and he just can’t be cool about it. He can’t stop thinking, reliving, wanting. He drove himself sick with it.
Adam was thinking about him. Adam called him.
Adam, Mr. Lambert, gorgeous, adorable, funny, perfect. It’s wrong. It’s so, so wrong but Kris wants to see him again. But more than see, because dammit, he’s attached now. He’s the “sensitive” guy who can’t separate lust from emotion.
The best sex he’s ever had only makes Kris want to get to know him more. When he closes his eyes, he has pathetic visions of going to movies together, of watching Adam sing, of playing for Adam. Of romantic candlelit dinners and all the stupid things Kris has absorbed from too many chick flicks he can never stop himself from watching in bed alone.
In the end, he’s really kind of a sap.
The problem is, he’s pretty positive Adam isn’t thinking along the same lines. The way he said goodbye was so serious, so calm like he’s disposed of a hundred pretty boys just like Kris before. His words seemed final.
But then again - there was the unexplained sadness in his eyes, the factor that gives Kris hope, however miniscule and flickering.
Still, even if the hope is real, he has no idea what to do about it. The frustration keeps him up for a long while.
Several hours later, Allison plops onto Kris’ bed at his feet, announcing, “She’s asleep.”
Kris rubs his eyes, falling out of a dream world where he and Adam are rich and famous superstars. “How many hours do I owe you for?”
“Don’t worry about it, man,” she says, shooing his attempts at groping for his wallet. “Just tip me extra well next time.”
Kris shrugs sleepily. He doesn’t have the energy to argue with her. His brain is too fuzzy to handle all the depressing thoughts whirling around, vying for attention.
It must show on his face, for Allison frowns. “Is everything alright? Besides, you know, being sick.”
Kris looks at her for a moment. In a weird way, she’s one of the best friends he’s ever had. There’s no reason to hide anything from her.
“I kind of,” he starts, closing his eyes in embarrassment. “I kind of met this guy.”
She hardly even reacts to the knowledge that he’s gay (“Please, like I’m surprised”), and listens to his scandalous story with rapt attention, gasping at all the appropriate moments.
“And so now it’s looking like I’ll probably never see him again and I’m just... weirdly attached, I guess. It’s stupid. I’ll get over it.”
“Dude,” Allison says, blinking at him a couple of times. “What exactly is the problem here?”
Kris stares at her.
“He’s hot, he’s a singer, and he had sex with you. Twice. If only I was you right now, seriously.”
“But -- but what do you mean? What am I supposed to do?”
Allison has a serious talent for rolling her eyes. “You really are stupid, aren’t you. Or maybe you’ve been a dad for too long.”
“I... maybe,” Kris admits, sniffling a little. It’s true; it has been pretty weird to worry about himself these past few days.
“He told you he was thinking about you. He wanted to make it last. There is only one option here: ask the guy out.”
Kris sits up. “But isn’t that violating all sorts of parent-teacher rule things? Crossing lines and stuff?”
Allison shrugs. “If there was a line, you’ve already crossed it. I don’t think Mel would mind - ”
“Assuming he says yes - ”
“He will.”
Allison sounds so sure, but it only depresses Kris. Adam already made his point when he left Kris in his office. Taking any action now would be futile. Besides, Adam really didn’t seem the dating type. So he offers Allison a defeated shrug, which she scowls at.
“You gotta be brave every once in a while. See you, Kris.”
She makes her exit, and Kris tosses the blanket over his head, shutting out the impact of her words.
-
Melanie gets out of school late on a Tuesday, missing the bus, so Kris has to duck out of work to pick her up. The drive to the school still reminds him of Adam, stupidly, even though it’s been over a week since their last meeting. He’d kind of hoped Adam might call, but his hope dwindled as each day passed and all that’s left is disappointment, dulled to a tiny pulse at the back of his mind.
He parks (ten minutes early) and pushes through the double doors, cringing when he passes Adam’s office not long after.
It’s not until he gets to the spot where he’s supposed to meet her that he realizes why she’s late: Rehearsal. Rehearsal for the musical that Adam Lambert is directing.
His heart stutters painfully when a familiar voice carries through the theater and out into the hall where he’s standing.
“Everyone remember you’re supposed to exit there, not there. Yep. Let’s take it one more time from the top.”
Kris can’t help it. He sneaks in through the back door to watch.
Adam is standing in front of the stage, hands on his hips, twenty or so seven-to-ten year olds scattered in a complicated pattern before him, Melanie one of them. He's wearing a black and white plaid shirt, hair loose around his cheekbones. He watches the dance number intently, a sparkle of pride in his eyes. He looks amazing.
“Great job, guys. Next week we’ll get started on the finale, okay?”
The kids all beam at him, a few cries of “Thanks, Mr. Lambert!” ringing out. Kris’ heart is bursting and he can’t explain it.
He’s smiling so hard that when Adam turns around, spotting him, he probably looks slightly insane.
Kris freezes, smile sliding away and panic bubbling up instead. Adam’s walk toward him seems to last an age, but not long enough for Kris to decipher the look on his face.
“Hey, you,” Adam says, leaning casually on a railing.
Kris gulps. “Hi.”
“Here to pick up your daughter?”
“I... yeah.”
Adam examines his nails and doesn’t say anything. Kris can’t focus; the rush of memories is overwhelming. Even Adam’s scent is distracting.
Kris clears his throat. “Um, it’s looking really good. The show.”
“You didn’t call,” Adam cuts in. “I was sure you would. But I am sometimes wrong about these things, I guess.”
Kris manages to stumble even though he’s standing still. “Wh -- what?”
Adam narrows his eyes. “You. Didn’t call.”
“What was I supposed to do, call your office?” Kris splutters. “I thought you were done with me, with this, I mean, how was I supposed to... you practically said goodbye to me. I thought I was rejected.”
For once, Adam looks less than collected, eyes shifting to the floor. “I didn’t want to make another booty call. As shocking as this might be to hear, I don’t want just sex. I have a lot of random hookups, but you...”
Adam glances up, meets Kris’ eyes.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Stupid stuff, really. Walks on the beach - ”
“Candlelit dinners,” Kris offers, and Adam nods sheepishly.
“I thought maybe I’d wait for you. I thought if you called me it’d be proof that you wanted that, too.”
Kris takes a step forward; it’s the boldest move he’s capable of. “I do. Want that.”
Adam’s shy smile is the most beautiful thing Kris has ever seen. “We were pretty amazing together, weren’t we?”
Kris chuckles a little. “Understatement of the century.”
They stand there staring at each other for a long moment. When it starts bordering on creepy, Adam breaks the silence. “So.”
Kris laughs. “So. Maybe you’d want to - ”
“Daddy, there you are!”
Kris flinches, eyes squinting with embarrassment. “Hi, honey.”
Adam’s face lights up even more as he bends to place a hand on Melanie’s shoulder. “Mel, your dad’s trying to ask me on a date. Will he be successful?”
She starts giggling uncontrollably. “Of course he will! You think he’s cute!”
Kris’ eyes shoot open - now it’s Adam’s turn to look embarrassed.
“Hey, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice you from across the room at that first parent-teacher banquet.”
Kris’ heart is huge in his chest. “Dinner sometime?”
Adam touches his arm, fingers brushing his wrist. “Absolutely.”
“Yay!” Melanie squeals. The three of them walk to the door together, Kris’ hand finding Adam’s. “Hey Mr. Lambert?” she asks.
“Yeah?” Adam says, shooting Kris an adoring grin.
“I can’t wait for you to meet my babysitter.”
Kris starts laughing at Adam’s confused expression. Mel is right - they will definitely get along.
*
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 6,000
Summary: Sometimes the best things in life are accidents. Teacher!Adam, dad!Kris.
Notes: Got a little carried away with a porn prompt. Oh well. Also, FML I can't cross off anything on kradingo with this one! I can say that both the jealous and New York ones will be gone soon, though...
*
Kris didn’t expect this.
Mr. Lambert sounded perfectly normal and nice and teacher-like on the phone, so when Kris walks into his office to discover a leather-clad, emo-haired, ear-pierced, tattooed rocker on the other side of a desk, he’s taken aback, to say the least.
*
Kris didn’t expect this.
Mr. Lambert sounded perfectly normal and nice and teacher-like on the phone, so when Kris walks into his office to discover a leather-clad, emo-haired, ear-pierced, tattooed rocker on the other side of a desk, he’s taken aback, to say the least.
“Mr. Allen, Melanie’s father?”
Kris nods and takes the offered hand. “Kris.”
“Adam. Nice to meet you,” he says easily, and gestures for Kris to sit in the chair. The desk is too thin or something, because Kris feels like he and the drama teacher are much closer to each other than a normal one would allow. It’s not weird, it’s just... Adam’s eye contact is really, amazingly good and it’s hard for Kris to meet it straight on so close up.
“So she’s been taking losing the part pretty hard,” Kris says.
Adam shrugs. “This sort of thing is normal. She got her hopes up.”
“Guess I shouldn’t have helped her with that try-out,” Kris says, grinning. “Only did more damage.”
Adam’s laugh is musical. “She’s very talented. That’s what makes it hard for her to accept. I don’t know what she’s told you she’s been up to in theater class.”
Kris tried to get his daughter to fess up when he first got the call from Mr. Lambert about her behavior. But Melanie kept her mouth shut, an eight-year-old discovering the potential of avoiding punishment.
“She wouldn’t tell me,” Kris says, kicking a stray pen on the floor of the tiny room. “She probably called her mom to whine about it. I’m not usually the one she’d tell.”
Adam arches an eyebrow. “And your wife...?”
“We’re not married,” Kris says quickly, and catches Adam’s barely-there glance down to his ring-finger. “Or together. She’s in L.A. right now, for acting.”
Adam looks delighted. “Runs in the family!”
“Hey, she gets the music from me,” Kris says, and at the same time notices that the tiny room is covered from ceiling to floor in music posters.
The biggest one is of Bowie in his Ziggy garb, smack dab to the right of the desk on the wall behind Adam. Then there’s the Stones, Hendrix, the musical Hair, a group called Goldfrapp, Iggy Pop, Lady GaGa (amusingly), and a whole lot more Kris hasn’t heard of.
“You got a lot of music on your walls for an acting teacher,” he observes.
He can see Adam watching him in his peripheral vision as he looks around a little more.
“I go both ways,” Adam says after a moment. It’s clearly a joke, so Kris laughs appropriately, but he also wants to kill himself because he can tell his cheeks have gone at least a faint pink.
Maybe Adam doesn’t notice, though, for he goes on to describe how Melanie’s been mean to the girl who did get the role.
“But I’m sure if you talk to her, you’ll find she’s pretty upset and probably feels bad about it. She’s just been let down and this happens all the time. It’s her first experience with it. She’s a good kid, Kris,” he says, and Kris’ eyes shoot up to meet Adam’s, oh so steady and very blue. “I can always tell a good kid.”
Kris swallows. “That’s nice to hear.”
It’s strange that all the air has gone out of the room, suddenly. There wasn’t any particular trigger, but Adam keeps staring at him and Kris just has this weird feeling it’s a good stare, maybe.
The only problem is it’s preventing Kris from doing his own staring; Adam is this fascinating clash of wholesome and badass. Mostly badass.
“I just thought I’d let you know,” Adam continues. “In case you weren’t aware. And I always like to do things in person.”
“Right,” Kris says, clearing his throat. “Of course. I’ll talk to her right when I get home.”
Only... only Kris doesn’t want to go home, yet.
“So, you got any questions for me?” Adam asks, his voice a little breathy. He takes off his jacket with a rattle of zippers to reveal a black, silver studded tank top thing, which cannot possibly fit teacher dress code regulation even though it accommodates a tie. But it is getting hot in here.
Kris runs a hand through his hair, tries to think of any pathetic excuse to prolong the visit. “You do theater as a career, or...”
It’s lame, Kris knows, but Adam indulges the borderline-irrelevant half-question. “Used to. Got bored of acting myself, so now I just teach elementary school kids. Singing’s my main thing.”
“Really? You any good?”
The corner of Adam’s mouth turns up and something dances in his eyes. “Pretty good, yeah.”
“I bet,” Kris says softly, without thinking, and Adam’s grin grows. The desk is oddly small. Being so close to this, goddammit, to this mind-blowingly hot man in front of him is like staring into the sun.
It’s weird to admit it to himself even though it’s been over a year since he started telling people about this side of his sexuality - Katy was the first. But now the evidence is, well... in his pants. It’s embarrassing and exciting at the same time.
“You seem like the starving artist type,” Adam says, eyes grazing over him for the millionth time.
Kris sighs. “I guess I can’t really deny that. I play and sing, yeah.”
“You’re pretty young.”
The comment makes Kris choke, but he covers it up as best he can. “To have a daughter? Yeah. She was an amazing, amazing accident,” he says, trying to laugh. But he can’t relax. Adam’s arms are just so... distracting.
Adam doesn’t laugh either. “Sometimes the best things in life are accidents.”
Kris nods but he really has no idea what they’re talking about anymore.
“What do you play?” Adam asks. And either Kris is insane (quite possible) or Adam’s voice seems to be getting deeper and deeper.
Kris flicks a stapler on the table, trying to do something with his hands. But he mumbles, “Guitar, mainly and - ”
And out of nowhere Adam grabs it mid-flick, his left one. “Callouses,” he says, sounding far away as he drifts his finger tips over Kris’.
Honestly, what the hell. This situation is getting plain ridiculous but Kris really can’t complain, as he’s letting it happen, letting his hand get fondled, for God’s sake, not only by a stranger, but by his daughter’s teacher. And it’s making his breath get stuck in his throat.
“Piano,” he chokes out after way too long. “Viola, too.”
“Multi-talented,” Adam whispers, and then his eyes meet Kris’ again. Dark lashes lowered over flecked blues. There’s no mistaking the implication.
The only sound for a moment is their breath. Adam doesn’t let go of Kris’ hand.
“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Kris finds himself blurting out. “I’ve never - ”
“You’re gorgeous,” Adam says.
“ - been with a man,” Kris finishes, unable to keep his voice far from a squeak.
A few pulse-pounding seconds go by and then Adam is pulling Kris’ hand up. Raising it to his mouth, licking down the middle finger slowly and deliberately, down to the palm and then to the wrist and back up.
Kris is shuddering all over and so, so hard. He can’t do anything but watch as Mr. Lambert laves each finger with his tongue, taking care to scrape the flat of it and then his teeth over the callouses. It’s the hottest thing Kris has ever seen; he can’t believe it’s real.
“Come up,” Adam says between licks after a minute or two, and it takes so long for the demand to get through Kris’ brain that Adam just starts pulling by the arm. Up and onto the desk, sending papers and supplies and crap everywhere. Adam arranges Kris’ legs on either side of himself and runs a firm hand up his thigh while pressing one very small, very wet kiss to the center of Kris’ palm.
It’s too much. Kris lets out a moan, restrained hopefully so that no passerby (unless they were conveniently just outside the door) could hear. But it’s enough to make Kris worry that he won’t be able to keep it quiet if Adam keeps doing that to his hand, or to any place else, really.
Luckily, Adam shuts him up with a kiss.
They don’t start slow. Kris is almost twenty-eight now, but in seconds they’re making out like teenagers. Only that’s stupid because Adam is an absolutely amazing kisser, so ridiculously experienced and it’s just insane the way his tongue can move, one minute biting Kris’ bottom lip and the next stroking all in his mouth everywhere. Kris used to love the idea of being someone’s first, of discovering sexuality together, but for some reason the idea that Adam has done this before - way more times than he has - is just beyond hot.
Adam starts pressing his lips everywhere, all over Kris’ forehead and jaw and throat, says, “You know I don’t normally,” kiss, “ravish my student’s parents,” kiss, “like this.” Kiss.
“I so mind,” Kris says as Adam licks his cheekbone, then starts laughing.
He pulls back, still smiling and looking at Kris warmly. “You’re so cute,” he says, and kisses him on the mouth again.
But now Kris is spoiled, so he runs a hand down Adam’s chest, as confidently as he can manage, scraping with his nails. Drags it over a nipple - Adam’s breath hitches because ohmygod it’s pierced - and over his super-tight jeans to rest on his inner thigh, crazy close to the obvious bulge there. Kris grips and releases, still just on the edge of Adam’s dick, but then Adam gets impatient and just grabs his hand and smashes it right on top.
They both groan. Adam is... absolutely huge in Kris’ palm, he’s almost scared. But his hand doesn’t seem to be, squeezing and stroking of its own volition while Adam’s legs drop open a little wider, encouraging.
Kris’ position on the desk, while perfect for making out, does not allow enough access for him to open Adam’s zipper, so Kris finds himself dropping into his lap with his thighs wide and draped over Adam’s. Kris frees Adam’s cock hastily - when did he get so eager, jesus - and grips it at the base, preparing to start stripping it like he would his own.
But Adam, who’s been busy sucking various areas on Kris’ jaw and neck, stops him. “Woah there, baby,” he says, voice all husky in a way that goes straight to Kris’ dick. “Slow down or this is gonna be over real fast.”
Kris nods, feels the sweat on the back of his neck. It’s seriously hot in here.
“Tell me what you want,” Adam breathes onto the trail of wetness left on Kris’ neck, and that pretty much wipes any remaining coherence he might’ve still had. But he knows what he wants.
He slides off Adam’s lap, drops to his knees. Adam looks down at him, pupils completely blown, and lets out a tiny, breathy whine. The sound is like triumph in Kris’ ears, all the encouragement he needs to lean forward and give a tentative swipe with his tongue around the head of Adam’s cock.
“Yeah, like that, take me in, god...”
Kris does, and it’s crazy weird and nerve-wracking and totally amazing at the same time. He doesn’t know what he’s doing but Adam doesn’t seem to mind, guiding his head and pulling at Kris’ hair so hard it’s probably sticking up everywhere.
Kris spends a minute or two trying to figure out what the hell to do with his tongue, sticking with the motion that gets the tightest hair pull, and then swallows down a little more, as far as he can. Suddenly, Adam’s hand lands on Kris’ where it’s gripping his thigh and brings it to fist the rest of Adam’s seriously huge cock where Kris’ mouth can’t quite make it.
His heart is beating a mile a minute. Adam makes all kinds of sounds, and it’s Kris’ drug, almost, the way he goes after them, picking up speed and chasing the feeling he’s giving.
But then Kris swallows again, hard, midway down, and Adam starts talking.
“Fucking perfect, so hot, baby, can’t believe you’ve never, wanna take you home, wanna do everything to you, everything for you.”
Kris can’t help it. He moans, lets the vibrations sing in his throat, and Adam really gets going, really starts fucking his mouth, to the point where Kris knows it’s gotta be almost over.
“Would take such good care of you, just like that, god, I’m right -- I’m, oh, right there, wanna fuck you so hard - ”
Kris has to shove his hand into his crotch to stop from coming at that, and then Adam’s words meld together into a slew of moans and dirty nonsense; Kris feels the rush under his lips, and as he attempts to swallow, the ache in jeans becomes unbearable to the point where he’s seriously about to lose it with no contact at all.
He really fails at swallowing, but Adam doesn’t seem to mind, eyes huge and fascinated at the sight of Kris pathetically wiping come off his chin and cheeks.
He’d be embarrassed, normally, or flush, or mumble - but right now he’s so turned on he just has to look up at Adam once and then he’s being dragged up by surprisingly strong arms.
Encircling him in the chair, Adam gives a lazy smile and reaches for Kris’ cock, so desperately hard and leaking an unbelievable amount.
One or two pulls and Kris is gone, making high pitched noises and clutching at Adam’s amazing broad shoulders and back.
Normally, that self-satisfied smirk on a guy’s face would piss Kris off - on Adam, it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.
It’s so hot he’s still thinking about it when he stumbles through the door, home, the bright, sharp image burned behind his eyes.
He blinks, bleary, at his daughter who’s sitting on the couch.
She turns off the TV and looks around at him, face pulled with worry.
“Daddy, am I in big trouble?”
Kris melts and heads over to her. “Honey, no - ”
“What did Mr. Lambert do?”
Kris stops dead, a thousand images flashing through his brain like a pornographic flip-book.
“I, uh, he... um,” he tries, but none of the words seem to want to form sentences.
Allison chooses that moment to emerge from the bathroom, thank all the fucking gods, saving him from acting like a complete fool.
“Yo, Kris,” she says, bouncing over to him. “I believe you owe me some moolah.”
Kris immediately relaxes. The girl is awesome, and a super cool babysitter. Plus, Melanie loves her. “Yup, right here, and little extra cause I’m... later than I expected.”
Allison eyes him, suspicious. Kris pats down his hair nervously. But she takes the cash.
“Damn straight. See ya girlfriend!” she calls to Melanie, who rushes over with a bounce of brunette pigtails to offer a big hug. Kris doesn’t even have the energy to point out her language.
When Allison leaves, Kris has the planned conversation with Melanie, which goes reasonably well. She cries a little and confesses to knocking over the girl’s lunch, but promises to apologize and work extra hard in drama class the next day. Kris kisses her goodnight and wraps himself in his own covers, but he knows sleep is a long way away. He’s hard again, Adam’s touch still so strong and present in his mind, ghosting around his body. He tries not to jerk off, but after hours of doing nothing but fantasizing about his daughter’s teacher, he gives up.
Right as he’s drifting off, sated at last, he wonders if maybe it’s not only Adam himself that’s got him so wound up, but the situation - he’s never done anything like that in his life, never really considered himself a thrill seeker or took many risks. But now he gets why people do.
-
While Kris is doing a little spring cleaning on his day off and Melanie’s at school, the phone rings. He dives for it, about eight toys in one hand and a mop in the other.
And he drops it - all of it - at the sound of the voice in his ear.
“I’m pretty sure your daughter’s been acting up again.”
Kris takes a second to pull himself together. He’s torn between confusion, as he thought he’d gotten through to Melanie last night, and being way, way too turned on unnaturally fast.
“Are you?” he says after a moment, steady.
“Yes,” Mr. Lambert says. “Very.”
He’s already more than halfway hard in his jeans. “I’m on my way.”
He may or may not run a red light on the drive to the school, and he receives several funny looks as he dashes through the halls like a madman. He reaches Adam’s office in minutes, bursting through the door to find him sitting there in his chair, gripping the desk tightly.
He looks up, surprised, but then his eyes darken. He rises from his seat, slow.
Kris clears his throat. “Mel’s not acting up, is she.”
“No,” Adam says, taking a step forward. “Not at all.”
There’s maybe a second of silence, and then Kris’ back is being slammed against the - thankfully solid - door.
This is really pretty wrong, what they’re doing, grown men attacking each other with lust right in the middle of the school day. Kids are probably walking by the office right now, wondering about all the noise in Mr. Lambert’s office.
As Adam slips lower to suck on the side of Kris’ jaw - he really does seem to love Kris’ jaw - Kris says rather feebly, “Don’t you think we should at least lock the door?”
Without detaching his mouth, Adam skillfully reaches around and turns the lock, then uses the same hand to palm Kris through his jeans.
Kris clutches at Adam’s tie and makes an embarrassing amount of noise. “Shit,” he says, face turning bright red at the thought of some innocent fifth grader hearing that.
Adam smirks that infuriating smirk of his and only tightens his grip. “Gotta keep it down,” he says into Kris’ ear, voice low. “Of course the banging of the desk might draw some attention, but there’s nothing we can really do about that.”
“Banging of the - ? ”
But he loses the words as he finds himself being manhandled once again over to the desk, Adam’s big hand on the back of his neck bending him over it with his arms splayed knocking things over and his ass in the air.
“Mother of fuck,” he says weakly, but Adam shushes him with a soft kiss to his ear.
“Here we go, sweetie,” Adam says, and he sounds so damn pleased as he pulls Kris’ jeans down. “Gotta have some around here,” he mumbles, rummaging around, just leaving Kris like that with his bare ass exposed. “Don’t normally fuck guys in my office, but I was sitting here, Kris, thinking about you, and I just...”
The words are oddly sweet, considering the position they’re in. But then Adam’s fingers drift, soaked, over Kris’ hole and a response never makes it past his lips.
They start circling there, tentative. Adam says, “You okay with this?” and Kris thinks the sounds he’s making are pretty far from a no, and since when was Adam concerned about his lack of experience? But he forces his brain into action anyway.
“Yeah, yeah, just... god, keep going.”
Kris really wishes he could see Adam right now but then again he can barely keep his eyes open as Adam presses in a fingertip. It’s hardly there and Kris can’t help but push back, desperate for a sharp feeling, seeking a mind-blowing sensation he knows is only a moment away.
Adam wiggles it around a little, palms Kris’ ass with the other hand, keeping him spread. “Thought about you all last night, Kris. Coming into my office, no idea how hot you were.”
Kris’ gasp turns into a moan and he earns himself a deeper slide, the hint of another fingertip pressing at the rim. Adam squirts more lube and lets it run down over Kris’ hole, removes his fingers to streak them through it.
“Knew I wasn’t going to be able to control myself,” he says, returning with two, thank god, pressing in fast, rubbing deep and making sparks go off behind Kris’ eyes.
He’s flailing so hard his feet are off the ground. “How long - jesus, how long do we have?” he chokes out.
“Not long enough,” Adam says, voice pouty, ridiculous. Kris really, really wants to turn around and look at him, but that would mean losing the fingers in his ass and that’s not happening. “We gotta move on,” Adam says, adding a third finger, and Kris shudders all over, palms so sweaty he can’t get a grip anywhere. “Which is too bad because I’m having the time of my life back here. But I don’t want to have to explain why I’m late to my third graders.”
Kris laughs, heart bursting in his chest - Adam is hilarious and sweet and so goddamn hot.
“Deep breaths for me,” Adam says, and quickly replaces his fingers with the head of his cock (when did he get the condom on?), pressing in a little.
“Want this?” he asks, so low Kris barely hears it.
Kris takes the breaths, suddenly nervous. Adam’s cock was pretty damn huge in his mouth. But if feels as good as his fingers did, it’s gonna be worth it. “Need it, c’mon,” Kris says, and Adam makes a strangled little whine and pops the head in, fast and big.
“Fuck,” Kris says, clunking his head down on the desk.
“Baby, you good?” Adam breathes, voice cracking like he’s on the edge of passing out.
Kris reaches back, takes one of Adam’s hands in his. “Please, just... keep going.”
Adam squeezes Kris’ fingers and pushes, slow, slow, slow. It doesn’t take that long to get all the way in, and mother of fuck it feels weird, but a kind of weird he could get used to, maybe.
Adam’s hips stutter and he nudges even deeper, a tiny gasp of breath leaving his lips like he can’t help himself.
“Oh my god,” Kris says, because oh my god.
“Good?” Adam pants.
“Fucking move,” Kris demands, pushing back and grinding because all his shame is gone.
Adam runs his hands up Kris’ shirt over the planes of his back - why on earth did they leave it on? - and pulls out, all the way, so the head is just putting a tiny bit of pressure on Kris’ hole.
For a moment the only sound is their breathing, fast and heavy.
Kris waits for a minute, because honestly he can’t believe that Adam is stopping again. He can’t be serious.
“For fuck’s sake,” Kris says once he can’t take it anymore, flipping over to face Adam’s shocked eyes. “Fuck me, Adam, I want it.”
He grabs Adam’s ass and forces him forward again, wraps his legs around his body and it’s delicious heat. Adam falls over him, pushes back in, braces himself against the desk, and finally starts going for it.
It’s better than Kris could have possibly imagined. The angle is heaven, and with their faces inches away, it’s even more intense. Adam never closes his eyes once, boring into Kris’ when he’s not busy running his gaze over Kris’ sweaty neck.
“So hot,” Adam says, leaning in to lick a stripe along Kris’ collar bone. “Can’t believe, so hot, Kris.”
Kris is done talking. His mouth just hangs open and he concentrates on making as little noise as possible, rocking his hips up as best as he can, over and over.
And then Adam grabs his cock, pumps once, twice, and Kris is gone, coming so hard it hits Adam’s chest, sprays up his navy collared shirt.
Kris is about to apologize, something, but Adam only groans - long and loud - and smashes his mouth against Kris’, slamming his hips home again and again.
Kris moans weakly in response to the stuttering slide of Adam’s cock, but then Adam slows and collapses, right as the bell rings.
He curses, pulling out (Kris flinches) and hastily unbuttoning his ruined shirt.
“Can I borrow yours?” he asks, voice choked and throaty.
Kris glances down at his disgustingly sweaty, hideously inappropriate ‘I’d Trade My Girlfriend For a Coke’ t-shirt.
“Um. Sure, if you want,” Kris says, out of breath, still sprawled on the desk with no pants on. “But what will I wear out?”
Adam throws his soiled one on top of him, grinning and shirtless. Kris finds himself inexplicably grossed out and turned on at the same time. “This or nothing,” Adam says.
Kris removes his own shirt, tosses it to him. “Think I’ll have to go with nothing,” he says, and grins back. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t keep the shirt.”
Adam’s smile falters a bit but he nods, looking away. He gathers his stuff and makes sure he’s presentable.
“I gotta go,” he says, after a moment. “This has been... fun. Amazing.”
Kris hops off the desk and goes for his pants, heart sinking at Adam’s tone - finality.
Adam unlocks the door. “Guess I’ll see you around.”
And Kris kind of wants to die because that’s code for ‘never.’
“Wait!” he shouts, as Adam sticks his foot out into the hall. He freezes, eyes raking over Kris, a seriousness in them that Kris has no idea of the meaning.
“Why did you keep stopping, before,” he mumbles.
Adam’s seriousness deepens, standing tall and stoic. After a moment he sighs and says, “Wanted to make it last.”
And then Kris is shirtless and alone in a ruined office in an elementary school, feeling oddly empty.
-
He’s sick all the next day, and it gets worse that Sunday. He calls Allison from his bed, a couple of tissues stuck up his nose muffling his voice.
“You sound terrible,” says Allison, concerned. “I can get there at one and keep her busy and stuff. I’ll stay as long as you need, don’t worry.”
“You’re a life saver,” Kris grumbles after a fit of coughing.
Next thing he knows, Allison’s bright red head is there in his face. “Dude! You look like a piece of - ”
“I know, I know,” Kris says quickly. “So this isn’t really a standard baby sitter task...”
Allison rolls her eyes. “Oh please. It’s not like Charles is going to sit here and take care of you and Mel. Please, I don’t mind. Besides, your house is the only place I can sing without being yelled at.”
Allison scurries off to play with Melanie, but Kris can’t fall back asleep. Goddamn him, he’s such a cliché. The first man he has sex with and he just can’t be cool about it. He can’t stop thinking, reliving, wanting. He drove himself sick with it.
Adam was thinking about him. Adam called him.
Adam, Mr. Lambert, gorgeous, adorable, funny, perfect. It’s wrong. It’s so, so wrong but Kris wants to see him again. But more than see, because dammit, he’s attached now. He’s the “sensitive” guy who can’t separate lust from emotion.
The best sex he’s ever had only makes Kris want to get to know him more. When he closes his eyes, he has pathetic visions of going to movies together, of watching Adam sing, of playing for Adam. Of romantic candlelit dinners and all the stupid things Kris has absorbed from too many chick flicks he can never stop himself from watching in bed alone.
In the end, he’s really kind of a sap.
The problem is, he’s pretty positive Adam isn’t thinking along the same lines. The way he said goodbye was so serious, so calm like he’s disposed of a hundred pretty boys just like Kris before. His words seemed final.
But then again - there was the unexplained sadness in his eyes, the factor that gives Kris hope, however miniscule and flickering.
Still, even if the hope is real, he has no idea what to do about it. The frustration keeps him up for a long while.
Several hours later, Allison plops onto Kris’ bed at his feet, announcing, “She’s asleep.”
Kris rubs his eyes, falling out of a dream world where he and Adam are rich and famous superstars. “How many hours do I owe you for?”
“Don’t worry about it, man,” she says, shooing his attempts at groping for his wallet. “Just tip me extra well next time.”
Kris shrugs sleepily. He doesn’t have the energy to argue with her. His brain is too fuzzy to handle all the depressing thoughts whirling around, vying for attention.
It must show on his face, for Allison frowns. “Is everything alright? Besides, you know, being sick.”
Kris looks at her for a moment. In a weird way, she’s one of the best friends he’s ever had. There’s no reason to hide anything from her.
“I kind of,” he starts, closing his eyes in embarrassment. “I kind of met this guy.”
She hardly even reacts to the knowledge that he’s gay (“Please, like I’m surprised”), and listens to his scandalous story with rapt attention, gasping at all the appropriate moments.
“And so now it’s looking like I’ll probably never see him again and I’m just... weirdly attached, I guess. It’s stupid. I’ll get over it.”
“Dude,” Allison says, blinking at him a couple of times. “What exactly is the problem here?”
Kris stares at her.
“He’s hot, he’s a singer, and he had sex with you. Twice. If only I was you right now, seriously.”
“But -- but what do you mean? What am I supposed to do?”
Allison has a serious talent for rolling her eyes. “You really are stupid, aren’t you. Or maybe you’ve been a dad for too long.”
“I... maybe,” Kris admits, sniffling a little. It’s true; it has been pretty weird to worry about himself these past few days.
“He told you he was thinking about you. He wanted to make it last. There is only one option here: ask the guy out.”
Kris sits up. “But isn’t that violating all sorts of parent-teacher rule things? Crossing lines and stuff?”
Allison shrugs. “If there was a line, you’ve already crossed it. I don’t think Mel would mind - ”
“Assuming he says yes - ”
“He will.”
Allison sounds so sure, but it only depresses Kris. Adam already made his point when he left Kris in his office. Taking any action now would be futile. Besides, Adam really didn’t seem the dating type. So he offers Allison a defeated shrug, which she scowls at.
“You gotta be brave every once in a while. See you, Kris.”
She makes her exit, and Kris tosses the blanket over his head, shutting out the impact of her words.
-
Melanie gets out of school late on a Tuesday, missing the bus, so Kris has to duck out of work to pick her up. The drive to the school still reminds him of Adam, stupidly, even though it’s been over a week since their last meeting. He’d kind of hoped Adam might call, but his hope dwindled as each day passed and all that’s left is disappointment, dulled to a tiny pulse at the back of his mind.
He parks (ten minutes early) and pushes through the double doors, cringing when he passes Adam’s office not long after.
It’s not until he gets to the spot where he’s supposed to meet her that he realizes why she’s late: Rehearsal. Rehearsal for the musical that Adam Lambert is directing.
His heart stutters painfully when a familiar voice carries through the theater and out into the hall where he’s standing.
“Everyone remember you’re supposed to exit there, not there. Yep. Let’s take it one more time from the top.”
Kris can’t help it. He sneaks in through the back door to watch.
Adam is standing in front of the stage, hands on his hips, twenty or so seven-to-ten year olds scattered in a complicated pattern before him, Melanie one of them. He's wearing a black and white plaid shirt, hair loose around his cheekbones. He watches the dance number intently, a sparkle of pride in his eyes. He looks amazing.
“Great job, guys. Next week we’ll get started on the finale, okay?”
The kids all beam at him, a few cries of “Thanks, Mr. Lambert!” ringing out. Kris’ heart is bursting and he can’t explain it.
He’s smiling so hard that when Adam turns around, spotting him, he probably looks slightly insane.
Kris freezes, smile sliding away and panic bubbling up instead. Adam’s walk toward him seems to last an age, but not long enough for Kris to decipher the look on his face.
“Hey, you,” Adam says, leaning casually on a railing.
Kris gulps. “Hi.”
“Here to pick up your daughter?”
“I... yeah.”
Adam examines his nails and doesn’t say anything. Kris can’t focus; the rush of memories is overwhelming. Even Adam’s scent is distracting.
Kris clears his throat. “Um, it’s looking really good. The show.”
“You didn’t call,” Adam cuts in. “I was sure you would. But I am sometimes wrong about these things, I guess.”
Kris manages to stumble even though he’s standing still. “Wh -- what?”
Adam narrows his eyes. “You. Didn’t call.”
“What was I supposed to do, call your office?” Kris splutters. “I thought you were done with me, with this, I mean, how was I supposed to... you practically said goodbye to me. I thought I was rejected.”
For once, Adam looks less than collected, eyes shifting to the floor. “I didn’t want to make another booty call. As shocking as this might be to hear, I don’t want just sex. I have a lot of random hookups, but you...”
Adam glances up, meets Kris’ eyes.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Stupid stuff, really. Walks on the beach - ”
“Candlelit dinners,” Kris offers, and Adam nods sheepishly.
“I thought maybe I’d wait for you. I thought if you called me it’d be proof that you wanted that, too.”
Kris takes a step forward; it’s the boldest move he’s capable of. “I do. Want that.”
Adam’s shy smile is the most beautiful thing Kris has ever seen. “We were pretty amazing together, weren’t we?”
Kris chuckles a little. “Understatement of the century.”
They stand there staring at each other for a long moment. When it starts bordering on creepy, Adam breaks the silence. “So.”
Kris laughs. “So. Maybe you’d want to - ”
“Daddy, there you are!”
Kris flinches, eyes squinting with embarrassment. “Hi, honey.”
Adam’s face lights up even more as he bends to place a hand on Melanie’s shoulder. “Mel, your dad’s trying to ask me on a date. Will he be successful?”
She starts giggling uncontrollably. “Of course he will! You think he’s cute!”
Kris’ eyes shoot open - now it’s Adam’s turn to look embarrassed.
“Hey, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice you from across the room at that first parent-teacher banquet.”
Kris’ heart is huge in his chest. “Dinner sometime?”
Adam touches his arm, fingers brushing his wrist. “Absolutely.”
“Yay!” Melanie squeals. The three of them walk to the door together, Kris’ hand finding Adam’s. “Hey Mr. Lambert?” she asks.
“Yeah?” Adam says, shooting Kris an adoring grin.
“I can’t wait for you to meet my babysitter.”
Kris starts laughing at Adam’s confused expression. Mel is right - they will definitely get along.
*