hold on until it’s over
Title: hold on until it’s over
Fandom: American Idol RPF
Author:
fictionalcandie
Beta:
duva
Genre: Smut
Word Count: approx. 1,300
Status: Complete
Rating: NC-17/MA
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, language.
Disclaimer: Entirely a work of fiction.
Blurb: It’s only once the door has already latched behind him that Adam realizes what’s going on.
Notes: Title from an Adam Lambert song (obvs). Written for bushy0tailed for this prompt (specifically, Adam POV of Adam or Kris walking in on the other) over at the krisfansunite Donors Choose dollar drive. This one is Adam walking in on Kris, but at some point (i.e., once I finish it), there will also be an Adam POV fic with Kris walking in on Adam. This is quite late, for which I apologize; I had it more or less finished ages ago, but sent it out for beta’ing and then essentially forgot about it (for which I also apologize). Anyway. It's done now, and I hope you like it, bushy0tailed!
hold on until it’s over
They always give each other their spare room keys, when they stay in the same city. And they stopped knocking way back when they were sharing a room in the Idol Mansion, years ago. Against all the odds, neither of them has ever yet walked in on something the other would’ve minded them seeing.
Why should this time be any different?
“You’re actually listening to this again, Kris? That’s got to be-”
It’s only once the door has already latched behind him that Adam realizes what’s going on.
Kris is sprawled across the boringly ugly hotel comforter, completely naked. Clear on the other side of the room, his open laptop is ending, then restarting, Adam’s most recently recorded song, still rough and unfinished, the demo version Adam only gave him this morning.
“Fuck,” Adam says.
Kris moans, and his hips arch up off the bed.
“God, Kris,” Adam starts, then stops because he has no idea where he was going to take that, and his brain can’t be bothered figuring out, what with it having the opportunity to stare at Kris’s dick, hard and flushed dark, slick-shiny at the tip.
“Adam,” says Kris, so eager it’s almost an invitation.
He hasn’t stopped jacking himself off. He’s barely even faltered.
“Are you seriously jerking off to my voice right now?” demands Adam, because it seems obvious what’s happening, but he would really like to be absolutely clear about it.
Kris nods twice, three times, then he’s gasping, “Oh, god, Adam, I didn’t know you could get that deep.”
“I can get deeper,” Adam says, without thinking.
Kris gasps, harsh and sudden. Adam feels his fingers twitch with the urge to go over and touch.
“Lower, move your fingers lower,” Adam hears, low and croaky, and it takes him a minute to realize that’s his own voice- that’s him, giving Kris instructions while he jerks off, and-
Kris is following them, with another gasp and a shaky moan. He’s letting go of his balls, rubbing at the skin just behind them with the flat of two fingers.
“Lower,” says Adam, again. If Kris listened the first time, then maybe- maybe he’ll- “Your hole- touch your hole.”
Kris does. He spreads his legs even further, pulls his knees up and plants his feet, draws in a sharp breath when his fingers touch his own entrance, shifting almost right away to trace it like someone familiar with the movement.
Adam reaches behind himself, puts a steadying hand on the door. “You like that?” he demands, and when Kris shakily says “Yes,” it takes all of Adam’s self control to not put his other hand on his own dick, through his pants.
“Push one in,” he says, instead, unable to take his eyes away.
Kris makes a trembling sort of noise. “Adam…”
“Put your finger in your ass,” insists Adam, deliberately dropping his voice and making it darker, more forceful. “I want to see.”
Kris’s thighs tremble, but he slowly pushes his index finger in, letting out a noise as he does that sounds like he’s trying to smother a moan.
“Yes,” says Adam, heart pounding, and, “Let me hear you, come on.”
Kris makes that noise again, but then he’s pulling his finger out, scrabbling with his other hand for something on the bed next to him, and it’s only as he’s dripping lube overs his fingers that Adam realizes what he was going for, and why. Adam almost tells him to stop - the already wet look of Kris’s fingers is proof that there’s some lube on them already - almost says that he wants Kris to really feel it.
But Kris is sliding his finger back in, quick, and all Adam does is say “Let me hear,” again, harsher this time.
“Oh… okay. I can- oh, God,” the last words coming in time with the second finger he adds, obeying Adam’s low, urgent order of another.
“Do you do this, Kris? Fuck yourself with your fingers when you’re by yourself?” Adam can’t help the words, doesn’t try to bite them back even as part of his brain screams that he maybe should. “Have you done this before?”
“Yes,” Kris gasps. “I- yes. The, the first time was. Was.”
“Was what, Kris?”
“After I first heard For Your Entertainment.”
Adam didn’t even know he could make the sound that leaves him, involuntarily, when that sinks in. “Kris.”
“Adam,” Kris gasps back, forearms rippling has his wrists flex, hips rising to meet them-
Then he’s coming, stomach muscles clenching as he spills all over himself, his fingers shoving in deep, and Adam couldn’t look away if there was a gun to his head.
“Oh, my actual god,” he whispers, to himself, and lets his shoulders thump back solidly against the door. “I. God.”
Panting, pulling his fingers out slow, with a shudder that runs his whole body, Kris lifts his head. “… Um, Adam?”
Adam grunts vaguely, in acknowledgment. It’s the best he can do.
“You’re actually-”
“Actually what?” says Adam. He has to clear his throat twice before he gets the words out, and even then, his voice sounds half-strangled and too deep.
Kris doesn’t answer, instead lifting up on to his elbows. He scrunches his face up, squints his eyes, then lifts his, relatively, clean hand - the one with his come all over it, fuck - and goes to rub at his face. He stops just before touching, blinks and frowns - blushing, he drops his hand and tries to wipe it on the bed sheet. In the end, he doesn’t even use the hand, but rubs at his eyes with his wrist instead, looking more flustered and self-conscious than he had while actually getting off in front of Adam. “Uh. So. That just happened?”
It takes Adam a moment to process the question, to figure out how to respond. While he’s still just standing there wordlessly, trying to get his brain to function again, Kris shifts a little, drawing attention to his still-spread legs like that’s going to confirm it, and oh god, he’s still shamelessly exposed, hasn’t even tried to cover himself up yet, and looking at him has Adam so fucking hard, this is torture.
Adam stares. “Yeah. It, yes.”
“Oh. Uh. Okay, then?” says Kris, and how is it possible that he can blush even deeper? He cuts his eyes away from Adam, squirming on the bed again, just like when he-
“I’ll… I’ll just be going, then,” Adam says vaguely, trying and failing to rest his eyes anywhere but Kris, spent and blushing and messy and spread out over the bed.
It doesn’t stop him noticing the way Kris sort of cringes at Adam’s words.
“Oh,” Kris says, and it sounds involuntary. While Adam does his best not to look at anything and reaches for the door handle, Kris clears his throat. “I thought you’d want to- I mean, yeah. Uh. Right. I’ll just, um, see you, I guess?”
Adam stills, the handle only half turned.
“You thought I’d want to what?” he demands, after a second, because that’s the second time Kris has gone and not finished a sentence and damn it, Adam wants to know.
He hears Kris licking his lips. “Join me?”
Something thuds hard against Adam’s ribs as he spins around, fist still tight on the door handle.
“Over here on the bed?” Kris goes on, looking less uncertain by the second. The corners of his mouth twitch. “And let me help get you off, too?”
It feels like something in Adam’s brain just… implodes.
“You really want…?”
“Fuck yes,” says Kris, and lifts one hand, reaching for Adam.
Then Adam is stripping off his shirt and kicking out of his boots, getting rid of his clothes as fast as he can- and Kris is laughing at him, but that’s okay, Kris sounds happy and his arm is still out, reaching for Adam, and he doesn’t seem to mind that when Adam hits the bed and spreads out over him, he’s still wearing his socks.
So Adam doesn’t hold back at all when he kisses Kris.
Fandom: American Idol RPF
Author:
fictionalcandie
Beta:
duva
Genre: Smut
Word Count: approx. 1,300
Status: Complete
Rating: NC-17/MA
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, language.
Disclaimer: Entirely a work of fiction.
Blurb: It’s only once the door has already latched behind him that Adam realizes what’s going on.
Notes: Title from an Adam Lambert song (obvs). Written for bushy0tailed for this prompt (specifically, Adam POV of Adam or Kris walking in on the other) over at the krisfansunite Donors Choose dollar drive. This one is Adam walking in on Kris, but at some point (i.e., once I finish it), there will also be an Adam POV fic with Kris walking in on Adam. This is quite late, for which I apologize; I had it more or less finished ages ago, but sent it out for beta’ing and then essentially forgot about it (for which I also apologize). Anyway. It's done now, and I hope you like it, bushy0tailed!
hold on until it’s over
They always give each other their spare room keys, when they stay in the same city. And they stopped knocking way back when they were sharing a room in the Idol Mansion, years ago. Against all the odds, neither of them has ever yet walked in on something the other would’ve minded them seeing.
Why should this time be any different?
“You’re actually listening to this again, Kris? That’s got to be-”
It’s only once the door has already latched behind him that Adam realizes what’s going on.
Kris is sprawled across the boringly ugly hotel comforter, completely naked. Clear on the other side of the room, his open laptop is ending, then restarting, Adam’s most recently recorded song, still rough and unfinished, the demo version Adam only gave him this morning.
“Fuck,” Adam says.
Kris moans, and his hips arch up off the bed.
“God, Kris,” Adam starts, then stops because he has no idea where he was going to take that, and his brain can’t be bothered figuring out, what with it having the opportunity to stare at Kris’s dick, hard and flushed dark, slick-shiny at the tip.
“Adam,” says Kris, so eager it’s almost an invitation.
He hasn’t stopped jacking himself off. He’s barely even faltered.
“Are you seriously jerking off to my voice right now?” demands Adam, because it seems obvious what’s happening, but he would really like to be absolutely clear about it.
Kris nods twice, three times, then he’s gasping, “Oh, god, Adam, I didn’t know you could get that deep.”
“I can get deeper,” Adam says, without thinking.
Kris gasps, harsh and sudden. Adam feels his fingers twitch with the urge to go over and touch.
“Lower, move your fingers lower,” Adam hears, low and croaky, and it takes him a minute to realize that’s his own voice- that’s him, giving Kris instructions while he jerks off, and-
Kris is following them, with another gasp and a shaky moan. He’s letting go of his balls, rubbing at the skin just behind them with the flat of two fingers.
“Lower,” says Adam, again. If Kris listened the first time, then maybe- maybe he’ll- “Your hole- touch your hole.”
Kris does. He spreads his legs even further, pulls his knees up and plants his feet, draws in a sharp breath when his fingers touch his own entrance, shifting almost right away to trace it like someone familiar with the movement.
Adam reaches behind himself, puts a steadying hand on the door. “You like that?” he demands, and when Kris shakily says “Yes,” it takes all of Adam’s self control to not put his other hand on his own dick, through his pants.
“Push one in,” he says, instead, unable to take his eyes away.
Kris makes a trembling sort of noise. “Adam…”
“Put your finger in your ass,” insists Adam, deliberately dropping his voice and making it darker, more forceful. “I want to see.”
Kris’s thighs tremble, but he slowly pushes his index finger in, letting out a noise as he does that sounds like he’s trying to smother a moan.
“Yes,” says Adam, heart pounding, and, “Let me hear you, come on.”
Kris makes that noise again, but then he’s pulling his finger out, scrabbling with his other hand for something on the bed next to him, and it’s only as he’s dripping lube overs his fingers that Adam realizes what he was going for, and why. Adam almost tells him to stop - the already wet look of Kris’s fingers is proof that there’s some lube on them already - almost says that he wants Kris to really feel it.
But Kris is sliding his finger back in, quick, and all Adam does is say “Let me hear,” again, harsher this time.
“Oh… okay. I can- oh, God,” the last words coming in time with the second finger he adds, obeying Adam’s low, urgent order of another.
“Do you do this, Kris? Fuck yourself with your fingers when you’re by yourself?” Adam can’t help the words, doesn’t try to bite them back even as part of his brain screams that he maybe should. “Have you done this before?”
“Yes,” Kris gasps. “I- yes. The, the first time was. Was.”
“Was what, Kris?”
“After I first heard For Your Entertainment.”
Adam didn’t even know he could make the sound that leaves him, involuntarily, when that sinks in. “Kris.”
“Adam,” Kris gasps back, forearms rippling has his wrists flex, hips rising to meet them-
Then he’s coming, stomach muscles clenching as he spills all over himself, his fingers shoving in deep, and Adam couldn’t look away if there was a gun to his head.
“Oh, my actual god,” he whispers, to himself, and lets his shoulders thump back solidly against the door. “I. God.”
Panting, pulling his fingers out slow, with a shudder that runs his whole body, Kris lifts his head. “… Um, Adam?”
Adam grunts vaguely, in acknowledgment. It’s the best he can do.
“You’re actually-”
“Actually what?” says Adam. He has to clear his throat twice before he gets the words out, and even then, his voice sounds half-strangled and too deep.
Kris doesn’t answer, instead lifting up on to his elbows. He scrunches his face up, squints his eyes, then lifts his, relatively, clean hand - the one with his come all over it, fuck - and goes to rub at his face. He stops just before touching, blinks and frowns - blushing, he drops his hand and tries to wipe it on the bed sheet. In the end, he doesn’t even use the hand, but rubs at his eyes with his wrist instead, looking more flustered and self-conscious than he had while actually getting off in front of Adam. “Uh. So. That just happened?”
It takes Adam a moment to process the question, to figure out how to respond. While he’s still just standing there wordlessly, trying to get his brain to function again, Kris shifts a little, drawing attention to his still-spread legs like that’s going to confirm it, and oh god, he’s still shamelessly exposed, hasn’t even tried to cover himself up yet, and looking at him has Adam so fucking hard, this is torture.
Adam stares. “Yeah. It, yes.”
“Oh. Uh. Okay, then?” says Kris, and how is it possible that he can blush even deeper? He cuts his eyes away from Adam, squirming on the bed again, just like when he-
“I’ll… I’ll just be going, then,” Adam says vaguely, trying and failing to rest his eyes anywhere but Kris, spent and blushing and messy and spread out over the bed.
It doesn’t stop him noticing the way Kris sort of cringes at Adam’s words.
“Oh,” Kris says, and it sounds involuntary. While Adam does his best not to look at anything and reaches for the door handle, Kris clears his throat. “I thought you’d want to- I mean, yeah. Uh. Right. I’ll just, um, see you, I guess?”
Adam stills, the handle only half turned.
“You thought I’d want to what?” he demands, after a second, because that’s the second time Kris has gone and not finished a sentence and damn it, Adam wants to know.
He hears Kris licking his lips. “Join me?”
Something thuds hard against Adam’s ribs as he spins around, fist still tight on the door handle.
“Over here on the bed?” Kris goes on, looking less uncertain by the second. The corners of his mouth twitch. “And let me help get you off, too?”
It feels like something in Adam’s brain just… implodes.
“You really want…?”
“Fuck yes,” says Kris, and lifts one hand, reaching for Adam.
Then Adam is stripping off his shirt and kicking out of his boots, getting rid of his clothes as fast as he can- and Kris is laughing at him, but that’s okay, Kris sounds happy and his arm is still out, reaching for Adam, and he doesn’t seem to mind that when Adam hits the bed and spreads out over him, he’s still wearing his socks.
So Adam doesn’t hold back at all when he kisses Kris.