you, i'm waiting for you
Title: Ficlets
Disclaimer: Not mine. Obviously. I haven't owned a real person yet. Save myself.
Fandom: Real People/American Idol
Pairing: Adam Lambert/Kris Allen
Rating: R (language)
Teaser: Some angst. Some fluff. Nothing that will kill you.
A/N: Previously posted comment ficlets gathered. Here are the results of the last one. PLUS a new one that is supposed to get me warmed up for the Big Bang.
+
kradamite gave me - "I know the battles of chasing the shadows/of who you oughta be"
+
He supposes the difference between a good friend and a bad one is this - inaction versus action. A good friend would take the chance that he was right. He would trust the feeling in his gut that screams that something is altogether wrong and believe that it was something he could do something about.
There's a video on the screen that Adam has watched at least twelve times and instead of dialing a few numbers on the phone already in his hand - he reaches out again to push play. Turning down the volume because the empty words aren't the point - it's even more clear. Kris is falling apart. The guy in the interview might be smiling like he just got back from vacation, but it's all lies. For a good kid, a genuinely amazing human being, Kris excels at them. The truly sad thing is no one ever tries to stop him. On the contrary they all seem to depend and thrive on the telling.
He supposes someone who just wanted Kris to be happy would do everything in their power to figure out what that would take. The only problem is - Adam knows already. He's been there. What Kris needs is a deep breath and a long fall off the pedestal his lengthy list of friends and family have had him balancing on since birth. Adam just isn't sure if he can take the sight of Kris' broken bones, the bruises that will be bigger than the ones already hiding beneath brown eyes.
He wants to call and say, "I'm sorry". He wants to call and say, "I understand". It's just - he doesn't want to be the guy with ulterior motives.
It's just that he is.
The truth is they're not really friends. Kris has always known what Adam never tried to keep secret. He's just waiting, waiting for Kris to run out of breath, out of patience, out of pretense.
He's just waiting for Kris to get tired enough to stop running, to stand still and be the man he is -instead of the man he thinks he has to be.
+
adamaddict_rh gave me "Think of what could be if you rewrite the role you play"
+
"Sometimes I envy you." Kris says, and it's only four words out of the million he knows. It's only four out of the million he wants to say.
Adam laughs, rolls over on his side so their eyes can meet across the insurmountable distance of two feet of cotton sheets. "Only sometimes?"
Kris knows Adam doesn't ask why - not because he doesn't want to know, but because he knows Kris won't be able to answer. His joke is kind, maybe more than Kris deserves. "Yeah, but then I remember your pre-show makeup regime and I'm once again glad to feel like a natural woman."
Adam doesn't reach out, only blinks and smiles -a move that somehow does more than enough to convey a willingness to wait, a patient regard for the struggle Kris is just starting. "Well, to quote your predecessor Kristopher Allen, my life would suck without you."
It's this, moments exactly like this. Adam opens his mouth and admits something without thought of why he shouldn't, or how it will be received, and Kris wishes - just wishes he could pull that off.
+
strippedhalo gave me "you don't feel you could love me, but I feel you could"
+
It starts off like a high school dare, a bad idea after two many drinks when Kris' voice of reason is passed out cold in the corner. Adam says, "You don't know what you are missing" and Kris says, "there's not enough air in this room for you, me, and that ego". Then there is a sound somewhere between a giggle and a scoff, the crash landing of a beer bottle followed by the gentle glug, glug, of a full Corona emptying itself on Kris' new apartment's new rug.
Suddenly Kris is on top of Adam -at first, at least, in a brotherly sort of "I'll kick your ass kind of way". Then a hand finds it's way to Kris' hip - perhaps to keep him from busting his own ass on the floor, perhaps because when Adam closes his eyes he sees stars and when he opens them again Kris is still there, still smiling.
Kris says something along the lines of, "put your money where your mouth is" - and although literally translated that doesn't work at all, Adam does. He pulls Kris down, surges up, and it's so good he doesn't even waste his time rubbing it in when Kris moans into the touch, at that first taste.
They are a little too drunk and probably six months shy of perfect timing. Somehow they both forget to care. Kris takes his shirt off before Adam can think to ask if he's sure and Adam doesn't think he would have anyway. Kris' fingers fumble on the button of his jeans, but the quick recovery seems more important. His fingers find a melody as Adam's spring to action.
Goosebumps unite with freckles when Adam yanks and fabric flies. He doesn't think twice of expensive leather when Kris slides back in to the spot he's claimed and conquered. There's more precious flesh to be had, softer, more supple skin to relish draped all over him. Kris whispers, "You may be right," and Adam has to thank Kris' God for that. Nothing less would have given him this without a lot more effort.
As is - Adam is almost done before it starts. Having waited too long and never actually believing he would get it -it's almost impossible to go any farther than a mutual dry hump, sloppy handjobs that reach fruition with silly promises of undying love.
It ends with Adam's iron grip refusing to let Kris pull away and Kris' stunned expression. For a second all either one can do is chase their breath and stiffly wait for the other to do something to make or break the moment. It continues only because Kris nods and Adam can't stop the "fucking finally," that falls from his lips.
And as they scramble up and stumble towards Kris' bedroom the whys and hows fade along with everything else that doesn't matter.
+
mrsfjl66 gave me the super emo lyrics from Jay Clifford's Know When to Walk Away..."Your silence is murder."
+
He's not the type of guy who bites his tongue and refuses to say he's sorry when he's the one in the wrong.
Growing up he never had much cause to test the theory - it's easier to get forgiveness than permission - but once the baby fat was starved away and the hard fought for swagger achieved, Adam proved it many times over. The only problem is, he never had that much to lose. He never really risked anything this big.
The whole thing was a huge mistake, a classic leap before you look situation. It was a party. He was just a little bit more than tanked. And Brad thought it would be hilarious.
In his defense, Adam spent so many years asking how high -every time Brad said jump. It was reflex, involuntary,
"Thoughtless," That's how Kris had put it. Before he had stopped talking altogether.
Thoughtless. A fitting accusation post-crime. Adam hadn't been thinking about the boy he was in love with. He hadn't even been thinking about the boy he used to be in love with, the one he was kissing. It was just - "smile for the camera" and "let's make Isaac jealous" and a familiar tongue that didn't inspire anything but a momentary glimpse of nostaligia, a sensory deja-vu that felt more weird than wonderful.
Of course - someone else had snapped a shot too, not just Alisan. Of course TMZ had the shit posted before Adam's hangover subsided enough to allow him out of bed. It only took about three hours of unconscious slumber before Kris' cell was lambasted with text and tweet, with concerned calls from just about everyone he loves.
It's not like Adam could have stopped Kris from barging out, just trying sent waves of nausea and electric bolts of pain right through his system. A rush of desperate words had fallen from Adam's lips, chief amongst those his weakly offered "it didn't mean anything. It was just-" and after Kris' "thoughtless" that silence descended.
That silence hurt more than a punch to the face.
Kris had grabbed his keys, his wallet. He had walked out without promising to come back and looked so disappointed it made Adam want to die. Adam had immediately fought his way to his feet and made it to the bathroom just in time to throw up everything he'd eaten in the last week.
He's not the type of person who wallows. He didn't have the strength to cry so he focused on trying to fix it. There was a series of "forgive me's" in his head, all ringing hollow, if admittedly heartfelt.
He left half a dozen on Kris' voicemail.
~~
Eight hours later he's just as tired, just as sick, scared to death that he threw away the only thing he really ever wanted because of a joke.
"You come back and I'll never drink again," was the last plea, the last promise - something Adam won't even find hard if Kris will only listen.
He's still in the bathroom floor when he hears the door open down the hall. His back hurts enough that he decides to wait, decides that it might be easier to stay down than to fall their if Kris is only back to get his stuff.
The sight of Kris, stoic face plastered on like kabuki make-up, doesn't help Adam find it any easier to breathe. Kris doesn't go to the closet for his bag though. He just sits down on the edge of their bed and waits.
"I'm sorry." Adam offers, for maybe the hundredth time. Then, "I get how mad you are." He stops at that, waits, hoping for anything - even Kris' assurance that there is no way he possibly could.
He gets nothing.
Adam pushes himself into a sitting position so their eyes can meet across the distance that suddenly seems farther than it's ever been, even back when they weren't together, when just looking at Kris some nights caused an ache so strong it made Adam want to scream.
The difference is marked. Adam, then - and Adam now. Wanting isn't having - he always understood that. He's maybe forgotten the part that goes -having isn't keeping.
He's not sure what made him forget it isn't easy, that Kris is everything and something he should work hard to deserve. "I do. I get it. If the shoe was on the other foot - if it had been you and Kat-"
And that's when it really hits him. He didn't. Until this very moment, he was still in that limbo of not thinking much, of just feeling and panic and "this too shall pass".
Until the thought of waking up to photos of Kris and Katy kissing on the internet, to frantic messages from friends and frienemies -rubbing his worst fears in his face....
"Oh fuck. I suck so much. Oh baby, I'm so fucking sorry." He feels like maybe he can cry now, like maybe he's already started.
Adam feels like he might be sick again, like he might have to lay his head back down on the cool tile soon if Kris doesn't say something - when Kris gets up and comes closer.
When he reaches out and pulls Adam in.
Kris' arms feel like heaven after a day in hell. He lets himself lean for too long before he pulls back and whispers, "Just -tell me I haven't fucked it up. Just fucking say anything."
Kris waits him out for another two minutes before sighing. "I'm not sure you want to hear what's going through my head, Adam. I'm here. That's going to have to be enough for now.
It's maybe more than Adam would give himself, if the shoe was really on the other foot. If Kris is willing to touch him, to stay, then he can try - for the rest of their lives if he has to - to make him forgive and forget.
+
Bonus fic to get me writing again! "you, you set my desire, i trip through your wires">
+
"What are you doing?" Adam asks, taking a step back. [This isn't happening.]
Only thing is -
It is.
Kris follows, that too sure smile plastered on his face like papermache. [One step, two. Until the brick wall behind Adam stops him].
"Kissing you." Kris answers.
~~
How it happened was simple. Adam sent out this ridiculous fucking email. It was just a little bit sad and a whole bunch frustrated. He may have told Kris that he was alone [Kris may have interpreted that to mean lonely].
That wasn't his intention.
He had spent a little too much time recently looking up pictures of Kristopher shirtless. He was reading a lot of old tweets. There was that one especially vivid dream that played out more like memory - a flashback of one of a thousand mundane nights on the AI bus, the one that twisted into an alternative [happy] ending.
He wasn't going for desperate.
Desperate was just how it went.
~~
Kris' lips weren't a let down. He smelled so fucking good and tasted amazing. Adam is almost positive once it starts that he could work on that pesky need to breathe. [This - this is preferable].
It stops though. Eventually. And Adam's brain has to kick back on. It's an old car engine that takes a couple of turns to turn over. It rumbles and he groans. "That wasn't how that was supposed to happen."
[Laughter wasn't supposed to follow.] "How was it supposed to happen?"
The timeline works in theory. Post-divorce. Adam single. Enough time to make the possibility of rebound less, without the heart-breaking reality of Kris actually dating anyone seriously.
The problem is -
There's no problem. "Too easy." Adam explains, feeling foolish, bereft with Kris pulled away -so calm [so cool].
In every scenario in his head there was a lot more hoopla.
~~
"You want this to be hard?" Kris asks, taking his own step back, then another. [Not now!]
"Wait - no - you misunderstand me." [Only - Kris never has.]
Kris turns around, heavy sigh escaping those beautiful lips Adam isn't sure how he lived without and doesn't want to lose now. Adam reaches out [touches] and Kris stiffens. "You send out distress signals and I'm just supposed to ignore them? I've been waiting for months for you to find the right time, the nerve, the energy. Now I'm here, making the move and you're complaining?"
[He is NOT complaining].
Adam rushes [desperate again] to prove that. He's yanking back, manhandling Kris [forward] into his arms to get one more chance.
This kiss is more familiar.
~~
[It's not better.]
It's exactly the same amount of awesome. Kris's smirk seems to agree. "That more like it?"
[Now Adam is the one laughing.] "You stupid little shit! [The one faking] "I hate you."
The third kiss is perfect. Honest. Real. Them.
A promise of more to come.
+
"Too bad, because I'm pretty sure I love you." Kris whispers.
[Thank the Universe.]
Adam feels the grip Kris has on him tighten, the power in the display sending a surge from head to heart to toe and back up. [He's hard.]
[He's waited long enough.]
"Bedroom. Now."
Kris listens.
~~
This is how it ends.
[With the beginning.]
Kris slips his shirt over his head, displaying that chest that Adam wants [has always wanted] to lick.
Adam does.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Obviously. I haven't owned a real person yet. Save myself.
Fandom: Real People/American Idol
Pairing: Adam Lambert/Kris Allen
Rating: R (language)
Teaser: Some angst. Some fluff. Nothing that will kill you.
A/N: Previously posted comment ficlets gathered. Here are the results of the last one. PLUS a new one that is supposed to get me warmed up for the Big Bang.
+
kradamite gave me - "I know the battles of chasing the shadows/of who you oughta be"
+
He supposes the difference between a good friend and a bad one is this - inaction versus action. A good friend would take the chance that he was right. He would trust the feeling in his gut that screams that something is altogether wrong and believe that it was something he could do something about.
There's a video on the screen that Adam has watched at least twelve times and instead of dialing a few numbers on the phone already in his hand - he reaches out again to push play. Turning down the volume because the empty words aren't the point - it's even more clear. Kris is falling apart. The guy in the interview might be smiling like he just got back from vacation, but it's all lies. For a good kid, a genuinely amazing human being, Kris excels at them. The truly sad thing is no one ever tries to stop him. On the contrary they all seem to depend and thrive on the telling.
He supposes someone who just wanted Kris to be happy would do everything in their power to figure out what that would take. The only problem is - Adam knows already. He's been there. What Kris needs is a deep breath and a long fall off the pedestal his lengthy list of friends and family have had him balancing on since birth. Adam just isn't sure if he can take the sight of Kris' broken bones, the bruises that will be bigger than the ones already hiding beneath brown eyes.
He wants to call and say, "I'm sorry". He wants to call and say, "I understand". It's just - he doesn't want to be the guy with ulterior motives.
It's just that he is.
The truth is they're not really friends. Kris has always known what Adam never tried to keep secret. He's just waiting, waiting for Kris to run out of breath, out of patience, out of pretense.
He's just waiting for Kris to get tired enough to stop running, to stand still and be the man he is -instead of the man he thinks he has to be.
+
adamaddict_rh gave me "Think of what could be if you rewrite the role you play"
+
"Sometimes I envy you." Kris says, and it's only four words out of the million he knows. It's only four out of the million he wants to say.
Adam laughs, rolls over on his side so their eyes can meet across the insurmountable distance of two feet of cotton sheets. "Only sometimes?"
Kris knows Adam doesn't ask why - not because he doesn't want to know, but because he knows Kris won't be able to answer. His joke is kind, maybe more than Kris deserves. "Yeah, but then I remember your pre-show makeup regime and I'm once again glad to feel like a natural woman."
Adam doesn't reach out, only blinks and smiles -a move that somehow does more than enough to convey a willingness to wait, a patient regard for the struggle Kris is just starting. "Well, to quote your predecessor Kristopher Allen, my life would suck without you."
It's this, moments exactly like this. Adam opens his mouth and admits something without thought of why he shouldn't, or how it will be received, and Kris wishes - just wishes he could pull that off.
+
strippedhalo gave me "you don't feel you could love me, but I feel you could"
+
It starts off like a high school dare, a bad idea after two many drinks when Kris' voice of reason is passed out cold in the corner. Adam says, "You don't know what you are missing" and Kris says, "there's not enough air in this room for you, me, and that ego". Then there is a sound somewhere between a giggle and a scoff, the crash landing of a beer bottle followed by the gentle glug, glug, of a full Corona emptying itself on Kris' new apartment's new rug.
Suddenly Kris is on top of Adam -at first, at least, in a brotherly sort of "I'll kick your ass kind of way". Then a hand finds it's way to Kris' hip - perhaps to keep him from busting his own ass on the floor, perhaps because when Adam closes his eyes he sees stars and when he opens them again Kris is still there, still smiling.
Kris says something along the lines of, "put your money where your mouth is" - and although literally translated that doesn't work at all, Adam does. He pulls Kris down, surges up, and it's so good he doesn't even waste his time rubbing it in when Kris moans into the touch, at that first taste.
They are a little too drunk and probably six months shy of perfect timing. Somehow they both forget to care. Kris takes his shirt off before Adam can think to ask if he's sure and Adam doesn't think he would have anyway. Kris' fingers fumble on the button of his jeans, but the quick recovery seems more important. His fingers find a melody as Adam's spring to action.
Goosebumps unite with freckles when Adam yanks and fabric flies. He doesn't think twice of expensive leather when Kris slides back in to the spot he's claimed and conquered. There's more precious flesh to be had, softer, more supple skin to relish draped all over him. Kris whispers, "You may be right," and Adam has to thank Kris' God for that. Nothing less would have given him this without a lot more effort.
As is - Adam is almost done before it starts. Having waited too long and never actually believing he would get it -it's almost impossible to go any farther than a mutual dry hump, sloppy handjobs that reach fruition with silly promises of undying love.
It ends with Adam's iron grip refusing to let Kris pull away and Kris' stunned expression. For a second all either one can do is chase their breath and stiffly wait for the other to do something to make or break the moment. It continues only because Kris nods and Adam can't stop the "fucking finally," that falls from his lips.
And as they scramble up and stumble towards Kris' bedroom the whys and hows fade along with everything else that doesn't matter.
+
mrsfjl66 gave me the super emo lyrics from Jay Clifford's Know When to Walk Away..."Your silence is murder."
+
He's not the type of guy who bites his tongue and refuses to say he's sorry when he's the one in the wrong.
Growing up he never had much cause to test the theory - it's easier to get forgiveness than permission - but once the baby fat was starved away and the hard fought for swagger achieved, Adam proved it many times over. The only problem is, he never had that much to lose. He never really risked anything this big.
The whole thing was a huge mistake, a classic leap before you look situation. It was a party. He was just a little bit more than tanked. And Brad thought it would be hilarious.
In his defense, Adam spent so many years asking how high -every time Brad said jump. It was reflex, involuntary,
"Thoughtless," That's how Kris had put it. Before he had stopped talking altogether.
Thoughtless. A fitting accusation post-crime. Adam hadn't been thinking about the boy he was in love with. He hadn't even been thinking about the boy he used to be in love with, the one he was kissing. It was just - "smile for the camera" and "let's make Isaac jealous" and a familiar tongue that didn't inspire anything but a momentary glimpse of nostaligia, a sensory deja-vu that felt more weird than wonderful.
Of course - someone else had snapped a shot too, not just Alisan. Of course TMZ had the shit posted before Adam's hangover subsided enough to allow him out of bed. It only took about three hours of unconscious slumber before Kris' cell was lambasted with text and tweet, with concerned calls from just about everyone he loves.
It's not like Adam could have stopped Kris from barging out, just trying sent waves of nausea and electric bolts of pain right through his system. A rush of desperate words had fallen from Adam's lips, chief amongst those his weakly offered "it didn't mean anything. It was just-" and after Kris' "thoughtless" that silence descended.
That silence hurt more than a punch to the face.
Kris had grabbed his keys, his wallet. He had walked out without promising to come back and looked so disappointed it made Adam want to die. Adam had immediately fought his way to his feet and made it to the bathroom just in time to throw up everything he'd eaten in the last week.
He's not the type of person who wallows. He didn't have the strength to cry so he focused on trying to fix it. There was a series of "forgive me's" in his head, all ringing hollow, if admittedly heartfelt.
He left half a dozen on Kris' voicemail.
~~
Eight hours later he's just as tired, just as sick, scared to death that he threw away the only thing he really ever wanted because of a joke.
"You come back and I'll never drink again," was the last plea, the last promise - something Adam won't even find hard if Kris will only listen.
He's still in the bathroom floor when he hears the door open down the hall. His back hurts enough that he decides to wait, decides that it might be easier to stay down than to fall their if Kris is only back to get his stuff.
The sight of Kris, stoic face plastered on like kabuki make-up, doesn't help Adam find it any easier to breathe. Kris doesn't go to the closet for his bag though. He just sits down on the edge of their bed and waits.
"I'm sorry." Adam offers, for maybe the hundredth time. Then, "I get how mad you are." He stops at that, waits, hoping for anything - even Kris' assurance that there is no way he possibly could.
He gets nothing.
Adam pushes himself into a sitting position so their eyes can meet across the distance that suddenly seems farther than it's ever been, even back when they weren't together, when just looking at Kris some nights caused an ache so strong it made Adam want to scream.
The difference is marked. Adam, then - and Adam now. Wanting isn't having - he always understood that. He's maybe forgotten the part that goes -having isn't keeping.
He's not sure what made him forget it isn't easy, that Kris is everything and something he should work hard to deserve. "I do. I get it. If the shoe was on the other foot - if it had been you and Kat-"
And that's when it really hits him. He didn't. Until this very moment, he was still in that limbo of not thinking much, of just feeling and panic and "this too shall pass".
Until the thought of waking up to photos of Kris and Katy kissing on the internet, to frantic messages from friends and frienemies -rubbing his worst fears in his face....
"Oh fuck. I suck so much. Oh baby, I'm so fucking sorry." He feels like maybe he can cry now, like maybe he's already started.
Adam feels like he might be sick again, like he might have to lay his head back down on the cool tile soon if Kris doesn't say something - when Kris gets up and comes closer.
When he reaches out and pulls Adam in.
Kris' arms feel like heaven after a day in hell. He lets himself lean for too long before he pulls back and whispers, "Just -tell me I haven't fucked it up. Just fucking say anything."
Kris waits him out for another two minutes before sighing. "I'm not sure you want to hear what's going through my head, Adam. I'm here. That's going to have to be enough for now.
It's maybe more than Adam would give himself, if the shoe was really on the other foot. If Kris is willing to touch him, to stay, then he can try - for the rest of their lives if he has to - to make him forgive and forget.
+
Bonus fic to get me writing again! "you, you set my desire, i trip through your wires">
+
"What are you doing?" Adam asks, taking a step back. [This isn't happening.]
Only thing is -
It is.
Kris follows, that too sure smile plastered on his face like papermache. [One step, two. Until the brick wall behind Adam stops him].
"Kissing you." Kris answers.
~~
How it happened was simple. Adam sent out this ridiculous fucking email. It was just a little bit sad and a whole bunch frustrated. He may have told Kris that he was alone [Kris may have interpreted that to mean lonely].
That wasn't his intention.
He had spent a little too much time recently looking up pictures of Kristopher shirtless. He was reading a lot of old tweets. There was that one especially vivid dream that played out more like memory - a flashback of one of a thousand mundane nights on the AI bus, the one that twisted into an alternative [happy] ending.
He wasn't going for desperate.
Desperate was just how it went.
~~
Kris' lips weren't a let down. He smelled so fucking good and tasted amazing. Adam is almost positive once it starts that he could work on that pesky need to breathe. [This - this is preferable].
It stops though. Eventually. And Adam's brain has to kick back on. It's an old car engine that takes a couple of turns to turn over. It rumbles and he groans. "That wasn't how that was supposed to happen."
[Laughter wasn't supposed to follow.] "How was it supposed to happen?"
The timeline works in theory. Post-divorce. Adam single. Enough time to make the possibility of rebound less, without the heart-breaking reality of Kris actually dating anyone seriously.
The problem is -
There's no problem. "Too easy." Adam explains, feeling foolish, bereft with Kris pulled away -so calm [so cool].
In every scenario in his head there was a lot more hoopla.
~~
"You want this to be hard?" Kris asks, taking his own step back, then another. [Not now!]
"Wait - no - you misunderstand me." [Only - Kris never has.]
Kris turns around, heavy sigh escaping those beautiful lips Adam isn't sure how he lived without and doesn't want to lose now. Adam reaches out [touches] and Kris stiffens. "You send out distress signals and I'm just supposed to ignore them? I've been waiting for months for you to find the right time, the nerve, the energy. Now I'm here, making the move and you're complaining?"
[He is NOT complaining].
Adam rushes [desperate again] to prove that. He's yanking back, manhandling Kris [forward] into his arms to get one more chance.
This kiss is more familiar.
~~
[It's not better.]
It's exactly the same amount of awesome. Kris's smirk seems to agree. "That more like it?"
[Now Adam is the one laughing.] "You stupid little shit! [The one faking] "I hate you."
The third kiss is perfect. Honest. Real. Them.
A promise of more to come.
+
"Too bad, because I'm pretty sure I love you." Kris whispers.
[Thank the Universe.]
Adam feels the grip Kris has on him tighten, the power in the display sending a surge from head to heart to toe and back up. [He's hard.]
[He's waited long enough.]
"Bedroom. Now."
Kris listens.
~~
This is how it ends.
[With the beginning.]
Kris slips his shirt over his head, displaying that chest that Adam wants [has always wanted] to lick.
Adam does.