AMERICAN FAGDOL // CAN'T STAY AWAY, PG-15
Title: can't stay away
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Fandom: American Idol
Rating: Pg-15
Summary: au, Kris and Adam, who’ve been best friend forever, move into their first apartment in la after college. Sweet candy fluff for brilliantsong, who’s birthday was yesterday.
Disclaimer: Fiction. They're not mine.
you break me down
every time you make a move
“It’s not going to fit.”
“Yes, it will. Just…tilt up a little.”
“If I tilt up anymore, I’ll break, Adam.”
“We will get this in if it kills us.”
“We don’t have to do this tonight. We can wait until morning.”
“I will not let this couch defeat me!” Adam cries, glaring at it as if it was purposely expanding so it couldn’t fit through the door.
“Jeez, have you always been this stubborn?” Kris sighs, tilting his end of the couch up. Adam hitches a sardonic eyebrow at him and Kris shakes his head.
(That was a stupid question, really, because Adam’s been like this since he was six. Kris met him on the playground when one of the bigger kids had been trying to force Kris to give them his pudding cup and Adam had come over. He’d stood in front of Kris, pale and freckled, and glared silently until they’d left. Then, he’d sat next to Kris and just…never left.)
“Shove,” Adam demands and Kris rolls his eyes, but braces his shoulder against the armrest and shoves. There’s a few seconds of nothing before the whole couch goes pitching forward and almost flattens Adam against the door to the kitchen. Kris drops his end just as it clears the doorframe and nearly falls over in shock. “Holy crap!” he cries, scrambling up and over to Adam. “Are you ok?”
Adam blinks once and then starts laughing, bracing one hand on the back of the couch and the other on Kris’ shoulder, his blue-black hair falling into his eyes, which crinkle up at the edges as he laughs and laughs and laughs.
(Adam first started dying his hair in 10th grade. Kris had tried to talk him out of it, but Adam had just glared and disappeared into the bathroom for hours. When he emerged, his hair was black with awkward swatches of blue and green and purple. He sort of looked like a peacock had died in his hair, but he was grinning and the winter sunlight was streaming through the window and highlight the freckles on is lip and Kris realized he was kind of beautiful.)
“I kind of hate this couch,” Kris tells him, which just makes him laugh harder and Kris grins. “It’s really ugly. Allison is right, we should have just burned it and bought a new one.”
(Allison moved to town about a week after Adam debuted his peacock hair, and suddenly nobody cared that the weird Lambert kid had stupid hair, because Allison’s was ten times more intense. Fire engine red with sleek purple streaks, Adam had gasped out loud and promptly attached himself to her, asking where she had it done and if she could help him. She’d taken one look at his hair and promised to help him if he’d show her around town. The three of them had been inseparable ever since.)
Adam looks down along the ugly, stained couch they’d bought at a garage sale for their college dorm room and says, “It does kind of look like some cobbled it together from a bunch of your shirts after they’d been rolled in the mud.”
“Hey!” Kris cries, punching Adam in the arm. “My shirts aren’t that bad!” Adam’s eyebrow goes up again and Kris scowls. “At least I don’t have stupid hair!”
Adam lets out an outraged gasp and tackles Kris onto the demon couch. “Take it back!” he squeals, jamming his fingers into Kris’ armpits and wiggling them. Kris howls and squirms under him. “Never!” he shouts, thrashing in Adam’s grip. Adam repeats his demand once more, tickling with renewed vigor when Kris laughs out another “never!” Kris bucks up into him, which makes Adam freeze and Kris squirms hard and sends them toppling to the floor with twin shouts of alarm.
(Adam told Kris he was gay when they were fourteen and Kris had nothing to say to that except, duh. Nothing changed; everything was normal until senior prom. Kris was going with his then-girlfriend Katy and Adam was going with Allison just because and they had all these plans and it was going to be awesome. Except, when Adam came out in his form fitting white tux with his hair slicked back and his excited smile splitting his face in half, Kris felt like he’d been punched in the gut, or pushed off a cliff or something. Kris had ignored it, chalked it up to nerves and anticipation of a great night, but when Katy came down stairs in her floaty yellow gown, with her hair flowing loosely about her shoulder, Kris didn’t feel anything. Didn’t feel the surge of affection or the swooping sensation from earlier. He didn’t even realize he’d spent the whole night watching Adam until Katy and taken him aside at the end of the night, telling him it was okay, that she’d known she could never compete for his affections, that he should go for it. Kris didn’t get it until Adam had swept him up in a tight hug, smelling like sweat and cologne and happiness. Kris had gone, oh, and realized that he might possibly like Adam a little more than he’d previously thought.)
But, despite what Katy had said, he didn’t go for it. Not that night, or at Adam’s graduation party or all through college. Their friendship was too important, he’d told himself, to risk on something like that, especially when he’d never gotten any inkling that Adam had felt the same.
Except, now Kris was lying on top of Adam, their bodies pressed together from hip to chest and Adam is staring up at him with wide, blue eyes, his mouth slack and his lips wet. Kris swallows at the longing warring with fear that he sees there, croaks out a soft, “Oh,” and then he’s crushing their lips together, one handing clenched in his shirt, the other threading through his stupid, beautiful peacock hair. Adam groans as Kris nibbles on his lower lips and the larger man’s arms are wrapped his back and one hand is tilting Kris’ face to deepen the kiss, licking into his mouth and sucking on his tongue. Kris keens and presses his hips down into Adam’s, which makes Adam gasp and buck. But then he’s rolling them over and staring down at Kris. He opens his mouth, but Kris shakes his head and says, “Don’t even, because I’ve wanted this since…since prom, and probably before that, so don’t ask me if I’m serious or-or whatever.” Kris is trying to glare and look firm, but it must not be working, because Adam laughs and kisses him again, just short, sweet presses of lips.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he murmurs against Kris’ jaw.
“Didn’t wanna ruin our friendship,” Kris groans, gripping Adam’s hair. “Didn’t know you-oh-wanted me.”
“You’re an idiot,” Adam tells him and kisses him some more, deep and wet with one hand stroking under Kris’ t-shirt, just above the waistband of his jeans. “Wanted you since...forever.”
“Why didn’t you say anything, then?” Kris shoots back, but gets distracted because Adam decides to answer by sucking on his collarbone. He gasps and arches up against him, pressing their hips together as Adam swirls his tongue around the red mark he’s raised. “I’m not having sex with you on the floor next to this damn couch,” Kris tells him and Adam pulls back to stare down at him with dark, hooded eyes. Kris shifts his hips impatiently and Adam clears his throat. “Right, then. Well, my bed is already set up.”
“Let’s go,” Kris growls.
Later, Kris’ head is pillowed on Adam’s chest with Adam’s finger stroking along his back when Adam says, “Does this mean you’re my boyfriend now?”
Kris puffs out a startled laugh and murmurs, “It better.” Adam chuckles and they’re silent for a while before Kris presses his face into Adam’s chest and says, “I think I kind of love you.”
He sees Adam’s chest hitch as his breath catches and then he’s being pressed into the mattress as Adam kisses him deeply. “I love you, too,” he whispers into Kris’ mouth.
Adam is kissing down Kris’ neck and Kris has a foot tucked behind Adam’s knee when he says, “But your hair is still stupid.”
Adam laughs, long and loud against his collarbone. Kris joins him soon enough and they’re twisted together and everything is perfect. Forever, Kris thinks and kisses Adam again.