Distraction, Part 2
Title: Distraction, Part 2
Author: lilymajolis
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Alan/Kris
Disclaimer: I do not own these lovely people; they own themselves (and in this world, each other).
Summary: Adam and Kris get to know each other as roommates, and get to know some of the other contestants also. It turns out that all is not well in Kris' marriage...
Part 1: http://lilymajolis.livejournal.com/564.html
The next morning, Adam is well into his routine before Kris is even awake, which is good, since the older man has a pretty complicated morning ritual. He's carefully running the straightening iron down a lock of black hair when Kris enters the open bathroom door. Kris is yawning, and his hair looks totally ridiculous, matted on one side of his head, and sticking up in tufts on the other. Adam snorts a laugh, "I can't believe I thought you were pretty yesterday!"
Kris laughs too, glancing into the mirror, but doing nothing about the mess. He runs his eyes over the line of products on Adam's side of the sink. "High maintenance much?"
"Way out of your price range, my boy..." And laughs again at the blush he elicits from Kris. "Here, I'll take this and finish in the other room..., " starting to unplug the appliance.
"No, don't worry about it. I just need five minutes in the shower; you can keep doing your thing."
Adam finds Kris' nonchalance charming, but decides that his mind doesn't need the romp in the gutter that would occur if he were to stay in the room while Kris showers, so he offers to bring them some coffee from the kitchen. He gives it ten minutes, just to be on the safe side, and sets the cups on the counter as Kris is brushing his teeth, already dressed in jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Adam resumes working on his hair, humming quietly; the movements are soothing because they are so familiar; this is one thing he can still control in this crazy world he's landed in. Lost in thought, gazing into his own blue eyes, he finally registers that brown ones are looking his way. He pretends not to notice. He's used to being stared at, in both good and bad ways, and quite frankly, he likes the attention. It's not like he doesn't do everything he can get it. He moves on to lining his eyes with the kohl stick, smudging carefully to achieve just the right careless smudge.
Kris is now staring blatantly and Adam quotes a t-shirt he saw recently, "Keep staring, I might do a trick." And then immediately feels bad, because Kris looks embarrassed. "I'm kidding-- sorry! I'll bet you don't have too many guys in Arkansas who wear eyeliner..."
Kris snorts, doing that goofy sideways grin again. "You're right about that! They wouldn't know what hit 'em if they saw you." He's running his hands aimlessly through his damp hair, and Adam realizes, horrified, that this is the extent of his styling. An intervention is in order.
"OK, we're going to be on national TV now, and it's time to man up and start using some product." He appraises the array on the counter, and selects a volumizing mousse. Shaking it briskly, he commands, "Hold out your hand." Kris looks confused, so Adam grabs his wrist and squirts a dollop of foam into the palm. Kris gazes at it as if it was a baby dragon, and Adam realizes that he's going to have to take things into his own hands. He scoops the foam into his own hand, and rubs his palms together.
"This is for your own good, and I promise it won't hurt a bit."
But Kris is backing away, hands up, "I don't know, Adam... will it make it all stiff?"
Adam can't resist. "Usually it takes a hard hot kiss from me to make it all stiff, sweetie pie!" And is rewarded with the brightest blush yet.
Kris resigns himself to the inevitable, and closes his eyes. Adam runs his hands through the soft sandy hair expertly, coating each strand, pulling this way and that, until he achieves the look he is after. "OK, take a look." Kris looks in the mirror and his eyes widen in reluctant appreciation.
"Better?"
"Yeah, I admit-- better."
They stand side by side looking into the mirror, and the difference between the two is so striking they both start to laugh. Adam's dark, styled hair and piercing dark-lined blue eyes in contrast with Kris' soft caramel-colored hair and eyes is one thing, and there is the height difference. But then there is Adam, hip thrust forward gracefully, head thrown a little back and to the side, looking like he could handle pretty much anything thrown his way with a devilish look and a sassy comeback. Kris' shoulders are broad, but slump forward just a bit, and he looks exactly like what he is: a small-town kid a long way from home. Adam looks at the slender man in the mirror, and his heart melts a little bit. He puts his arm around Kris' shoulders.
"Take a good look, Kris," he says, pointing at the mirror. "The final two."
Kris laughs as though Adam had just told him they were selected for a mission to Mars, and shakes his head firmly. "No way. I mean, you, absolutely! But me..."
"Stop that!" Adam turns deadly serious. "I'm telling you it's the truth, and the way it becomes the truth is to believe it. If you don't believe it, how will America believe it? I've heard you sing and play that guitar, and I've never heard someone's soul come out through a song the way you do it. You can win this thing!"
Kris has stopped shaking his head, and listens mesmerized, staring at Adam in the mirror. Something steely appears in his eyes, and Adam realizes that the younger man wants this as much as he does.
Adam raises his hand in a peace sign. "Final two, Kris. Say it."
"Final two, Adam." And his voice is strong.
Over the next few days, life becomes a blur. The pace is relentless, although there are prolonged periods of waiting between bouts of feverish activity. At the house, the kitchen becomes a gathering place where the contestants come to chatter, commiserate, and cheer each other. Personalities begin to emerge, and Kris and Adam find themselves instinctively drawn to the unpolished firecracker, Allison, who quickly attaches herself to her "two bros". They also are in complete agreement that Danny is an unqualified ass, and Adam is delighted to hear Kris call him "a bible-thumping Jesus freak."
After the long days, the roommates always end with comfortable talks as they lie in their beds in the dark. One night, they are both nearly asleep when Kris' cell vibrates on the nightstand. "Hi Katy, what's up baby?" Usually Kris takes his calls out into the hall, but the fatigue in his voice is palpable, and he tells his wife, "No, no, I'm awake, but barely. It's been a brutal day, and I'm exhausted. I love you, though, can we talk in the morning?"
There is a long silence, and then Adam hears Kris getting out of bed. "OK, Katy, it's ok. Hold on." He staggers out into the hall with the phone.
Adam wonders, but soon his mind goes back to thinking through the vision of his next song. It's nearly one a.m. when Kris returns, and instead of getting into bed, sits on its edge staring out the window.
"Kris, you ok?"
"Yeah. No. I don't know."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I just don't understand her. She wanted so bad for me to be on the show, and now she's freaking out all the time. One day she's telling me how great I am and how much she wants me to win, and then like tonight, she's blaming me for leaving her alone all the time, and pissed off that I don't text her every 20 minutes to tell her I love her. I just don't know what to expect, how to act with her."
"Kris, this show puts incredible pressure on people. This isn't real life. Once it's over, I'm sure you'll find your way back to normal. You've been together so long. That's your foundation."
There is silence from Kris, and Adam wonders if he's missed something.
"Thanks, Adam. I'm sure you're right." His voice is flat and small as he slides under the covers, his back to his roommate. He doesn't speak again.
Adam thinks about how the Kris' hair felt between his fingers the other morning, and wishes that he dared to go to his roommate's side and stroke his head until he fell asleep. He stares into the darkness, wondering how it is that he feels Kris' pain in his own chest.
*****