Beneath the Leather
Beneath the Leather
By: Lady Michaelis
Pairing: Adam Lambert/Kris Allen, mentions of others - if you know where to look ;)
Rating: PG (homosexual paramour, kissing, green jokes, slightly offensive language)
Genre: Romance/Humor (AU)
Summary: Kris was not expecting to be told to kneel in between a handsome stranger’s legs during a Skin.Graft photoshoot.
Disclaimers: None of these gorgeous darlings are mine. The song lyrics are from I Just Love You by Five For Fighting. Adam Lambert has his own rendition of this song.
Note: This is written in response to Jerakeen’s prompt -> “Okay, last one:
This could be a dare, or you can find your own reason for it. What I want is, Kris kneeling between Adam's legs in a public place, and pushing his shirt up to kiss (or lick) his navel.
It has to be a first time fic, no fun if they're already together, and bonus points if Adam puts a hand on the back of Kris' neck to pull him closer.”
It wasn’t odd for Kris Allen to hear the sounds of loud laughter reverberating in the empty hallway as he made his way to his apartment. He had already gotten used to coming home to see one or even all of his friends sprawled all over his living room like they owned it. As soon as he had moved into the cozy one-bedroom flat, he had four spare keys made - one for each of friends. Ever since, it had been the Grand Central Station for all their little get-togethers. The other three boys practically lived there, and Kris just couldn’t suppress a smile whenever he found one of Brad’s sequined vests in his laundry or opened the refrigerator to see the tub of French Vanilla ice cream Tommy was going through for the week. Every time he inserted his key into the lock - as he was doing so at that very moment - he couldn’t wait to see what surprise would be waiting for him on the other side of midnight.
“Welcome home, baby doll!”
Bradley Bell was petite, brunette and Southern - much like Kris himself, actually, only more attuned to glitter and sequins. They had practically grown up in each other’s back pockets - Kris remembered the days when they thought they were twins separated at birth - and Brad had even followed him to university so they could take the music course together. While Kris was laid-back, responsible and decidedly domestic, Brad was flirty, hilarious and had a potty little mouth that belonged on a truck driver.
“Hey, man”, Kris allowed his friend to embrace him. “Who else is here?”
“Everyone else”, Brad chirped, reaching into the refrigerator for the bottle of Bailey’s he’d stuck in it last week. “Cassidy decided to drop the bomb on us tonight.”
This piqued Kris’ interest. Cassidy Haley was a fashion design student he and Brad had met in college, and hands-down the most elegant and spirited creature that Kris had ever met in his entire life. The man was also undeniably beautiful, with his graceful, angular face and sharp, pixie-ish features. He had been hard at work on new designs for Skin.Graft, a fashion label he had established along with two other classmates as his graduate thesis. Just last week, he had casually said that he had something big planned, but refused to answer all questions - even when Kris had promised him a hot date with the tall, scruffy music major that Cassidy had been crushing on since forever.
“And I guess this is why you’re bringing out the Bailey’s?” he queried, grabbing two other wine glasses from the shelves. “Normally, you’d be drinking the stuff straight out of the convenience store.”
“Oh please”, Brad rolled his eyes good-naturedly, slapping Kris on the butt as they made their way to the living room. “That was so last year. I made a New Year’s resolution not to take a swig until I get home.”
A lanky, dark-eyed man with a floppy skunk-do raised his head sluggishly, one eyebrow arched high at the sound of Brad’s words. “Dude, your resolutions never last forty-eight hours.”
Tommy Joe Ratliff worked shifts with Kris at the local music store. The young Arkansan had been pretty wary of him at first, taking into consideration his eternally bored disposition. The monotony had been broken when Tommy had sent him a Tweet to inform him of a change in shifts, and they’d had a surprisingly web-animated conversation afterward. Though eternally bored and seemingly unemotional, Tommy was also eternally affectionate in his own odd way, always coming to Kris’ rescue when the poor man had trouble escaping from giggly girls - or burly men - asking him out on dates.
And that was the very reason Kris had chosen to tumble into his lap instead of flopping into the chintz armchair that was obviously vacant.
“I’m surprised you got home alive”, Tommy droned. “I’ve drawn up a list of how many people try to pick you up in one night, and my rough estimate is seven to ten.”
“That is like, so unfair”, Brad sighed. “Kris is the one who’s pretty much asexual in this group, but his milkshake brings all the boys - and thought they are not relevant to my interest, girls - to the yard.”
“Being chill does wonders”, David Archuleta giggled, burrowing his way into Kris’ arms. “Gosh, Kris - all you have to do is just sit there, and everyone tries to come on to you.”
Bright-eyed and painfully adorable Archie - as they all fondly referred to the boy - was the sweetest thing in the world and Kris’ self-proclaimed baby. Kris had run into him about a year and a half ago in the music store, soaking wet with a large backpack slung over his shoulder, staring longingly at the copies of David Cook’s CD on sale. Thinking he was a high school student that had been unfortunate enough to be caught in the rainstorm, Kris immediately felt sorry for him and handed the poor thing a towel before treating him to some coffee. Right before closing time, Tommy pointed out that the kid was still there, so Kris sat at his table and asked if he needed a lift home - and that was when he got acquainted with Archie’s tale of woe. Apparently, he had left home because his father forbade him to attend music school, and he just couldn’t give up his dream in exchange for sitting down with accounting ledgers. Now, Archie was living with him and was taking music classes at The Juilliard College under full scholarship.
“You need to get laid, baby doll”, Brad continued. “All you do is work, work and work, and that is so not healthy for your social life. I think you need other outlets for your creativity.”
“What about modelling?” Cassidy suggested. “You’ve got the pretty face and the perfect body.”
“Are you humouring me, Cass?” Kris raised an eyebrow. “Because asking me to model is like asking George Clooney to marry his same-sex significant other.”
“I’m actually serious about this, Kris”, Cassidy replied candidly. “Jonny, Katie and I are going to enter this art exhibit for local fashion brands. Each label has to come up with a photoshoot showcasing their designs and capturing the essence of what they’re about.”
“And you want Kris to do this for you?” Tommy asked, idly running his hands through his hair. “If we’re guaranteed front row seats to witness the other side of Kris Allen, I’m game.”
“You mean his inner slut?” Brad’s eyes lit up. “Oh this is going to be so super! Can I do his makeup?”
“Gosh, this is exciting!” Archie pulled out of Kris’ embrace like a jack-in-a-box. “I think it’s going to be a treat to see you in something besides plaid for once.”
“Guys, I haven’t even agreed to this yet!” Kris flailed, sliding off Tommy’s lap.
“Please, sweetie?” Cassidy reached out to squeeze his hand. “You’re perfect for the concept I have in mind, and it won’t work as well with anyone else.”
Kris sighed. He loved Cassidy to death and could never say no to him.
“Fine, I’ll do it”, he mumbled. “But you guys had better treat me to lunch at Chick-fil-A for one week - and you have to eat there with me!”
“…goodbye, perfect complexion”, Brad sighed dramatically. “It was nice knowing you.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Kris felt his jaw drop as he gazed at his reflection in the mirror. Sure, he was still the same old Kristopher Neil Allen, but the magic Brad had worked onto his face made him look just a wee bit prettier. He self-consciously tugged at the hem of the micro-mini vest Cassidy made him wear, wishing he could pull it down low enough to cover his stomach. Coupled with tight metallic silver pants, low-heeled black lace-up boots, silver necklaces and a slave bracelet, Kris felt as if he was ready to go onstage at one of those clubs Brad liked to frequent. There were a million butterflies in his stomach, though, as what was supposed to be a small group expanded into twenty-something people whose jobs he couldn’t even keep track of. He had just been expecting Cassidy, Brad, Jonny Cota and Katie Kay, but Tommy, Archie, his childhood friend Cale Mills and Archie’s rockstar boyfriend David Cook had all come to watch.
Them and the twenty-something assistants that were running all over the place made Kris feel that he was posing for some magazine like Vanity Fair instead of a local design exhibit.
“…I’m going to embarrass myself in a room of all these people”, he remarked faintly. “What the heck are you even doing here, Cale?”
“You’re not happy to see me, shorty?” the ruggedly handsome man feigned hurt. “I decided to show up and help with the heavy lifting. It would be rude of me not to assist the man I’m courting on his road to fame and stardom.”
“Oh, shut up, Cale”, Cassidy smiled, brushing his fingers over the taller man’s stubble. “I love how you still came even though I said I have enough helpers for today.”
“Since when were you two dating?” Kris’ eyes bugged out.
“We met again right before the new year while I was doing my groceries”, Cale chuckled. “Cass caught me belting out Bad Day to frozen chicken legs on aisle three.”
“I thought it was adorable”, Cassidy chuckled softly, stroking Cale’s forearm. “We decided to have lunch together, and I accidentally blurted out that I liked him in college.”
“I found that little slip-up interesting, so I asked him out on a second date”, Cale laughed. “And stop giving me that bugged-eyed look, shorty - it won’t look good on camera.”
“And what about you?” Kris turned to Cook.
“I’m responsible for your fellow model”, the Kansas City native explained. “As usual, he’s running late - probably taking his dear sweet time with his makeup again.”
“I’m modelling with someone else?” Kris blinked. “How come I didn’t know this?”
“Sorry, sweetie”, Cassidy apologized, giving him a brief squeeze. “With all the things I’m doing, it must have slipped my mind. You don’t have to worry about anything, though - Adam’s a nice guy.”
“Adam?”
“Adam Lambert, winner of American Idol’s eighth season and my best bud”, Cook supplied. “You know - tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed with the world’s most fucked up glory notes?”
Kris’ eyes went goggle-wide. Of course he knew who the heck Adam Lambert was. He’d followed the show religiously and voted for the said rockstar whenever he got the chance.
He also had a gargantuan crush on Adam Lambert.
“And this is when Kris Allen gets all tongue-tied and red in the face”, Tommy announced dryly, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. “Because he is now going to meet the man he’s been having wet dreams about since the season eight auditions.”
“Cassidy!” Kris whined, flailing. “I can’t do this with - ”
“Fucking fuck! I’m so, so sorry, Cassidy!”
The door flew open with a bang, and a tall, imposing man dressed in a tight-fitting black sleeveless shirt, tight black leather pants that outlined every ridge and curve of his muscular legs, chunky black combat boots and bedecked in about a million necklaces, cuffs and rings flew into the room, nearly toppling Cassidy over in a giant bear hug.
“It’s fine, Adam”, Cassidy laughed, squeezing him back tightly before letting go. “You arrived just in time for us to start - ah, I see you’ve done your makeup already.”
Kris gulped, trying - and failing - not to gaze upon the most handsome face that had crossed his mind since seeing Leonardo di Caprio in Romeo + Juliet. The foundation, liner, mascara and lip gloss enhanced Adam Lambert’s already perfect features, giving him an ethereal glow.
“I figured I’d go ahead and finish prepping up so we could start right away”, the rockstar explained, slipping on a blue metallic leather duster that was practically bathing in silver studs and spikes. “By the way, when am I going to meet my fellow model?”
Kris squeaked as Cassidy practically shoved him at Adam, suddenly desperate to lay his eyes on anything except the man he had long-idolized.
“This is Kris Allen”, the designer introduced them. “He was a music major at my college and is one of my best friends. Kris, this is Adam Lambert - no need for further explanation.”
“Hey, Kris”, Adam’s handshake was firm and warm - just like the grin on his face. “I’m Adam. Cass mentioned that I was going to be paired up with someone today, but I didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to be modelling with someone as gorgeous as you are.”
“...just so you know, I’m trying to come up with something that doesn’t sound completely stupid right now”, Kris offered meekly. “I mean, I’ve seen you on Idol...and just, wow.”
“He voted for you every week”, Brad clamoured. “More than ten times, I think.”
“He’d record all your performances”, Archie added. “And buy all your songs on iTunes.”
“He’d make me stop watching my horror movies just so he could watch the replays”, Tommy said.
“Way to save me from being embarrassed, guys”, Kris mumbled, his cheeks heating up.
“Really?” Adam actually seemed pleased. “That’s so sweet of you, baby - thank you.”
Kris felt his heart rate slowly returning to normal, put to ease by Adam’s genuine niceness. Since this was a photoshoot, Kris had been expecting to see him in glam god mode, even though he knew how sweet Adam could be. It was hard to stay nervous when he was the current recipient of that brilliant, happy smile he had learned to love so much.
“So, are you two ready?” Cassidy interrupted his thoughts. “Jonny’s already set up the camera.”
“Shall we?” Adam gestured to the set - a large Victorian armchair with red velvet cushions, a small antique table with a vase of roses and a faux zebra-print rug.
“Okay”, Kris agreed. “I have zero experience, so I might end up making a fool out of myself.”
“You’ll do fine”, Adam assured him. “Just do what comes naturally to you.”
“Okay, Adam, I want you in that chair”, Cassidy directed them. “Kris, kneel on the floor between his legs. I’m aiming for a modern-day prince and his lover theme here.”
Kris could hear Archie and Brad giggling - he could practically hear Tommy smirk, too - in the background as he sank to his knees, trying to swallow the lump in his throat as he came face-to-face with Adam’s crotch, which seemed like it would tear through the leather at the most opportune moment. Unsure of what to do, he turned to Cassidy, hoping for more instructions.
“I’ll test the lighting first”, Jonny informed them. “Feel free to ignore the flashes while getting into your element.”
“You’ve got to relax, Kris”, Adam chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “I don’t think this is what you want to hear right now, but you look like you’re being sent off to the gallows instead of being invited into bed.”
“Put on your sex face!” Brad hollered. “You do it all the time at home.”
Kris would have buried his face into the next available surface - except that it was Adam’s groin.
“Hmmm, let’s make this easier for you”, Adam said thoughtfully. “Would it make you feel better if I say, sang to you? Your little friends made it clear that you enjoyed my stint on Idol, so maybe me singing would help you calm down.”
“...that could work”, Kris whispered. “Maybe you could give it a try.”
“Alright, then”, Adam smiled warmly at him. “Move with the music, okay? Just do what comes naturally.”
Kris nodded, gingerly placing his hands on Adam’s thighs to steady himself. “Is this uhm, okay...?”
“Of course”, Adam assured him. “Your grip should be more relaxed, but that’s going to come.”
The rockstar was quiet for a moment, his eyes closed tightly as if in deep thought.
“Lonely, yeah, that’s the word”, he sang softly, reaching out to stroke Kris’s hair. “I leave my heart when I leave him. The days go on forever and the nights do too...”
Kris shivered with delight, feeling the warm tones of Adam’s voice wash over him. He was vaguely aware of the fact that the rockstar had chosen to change the pronouns to fit the situation more, but that didn’t really matter at the moment. Sighing happily, he leaned forward and nuzzled Adam’s belly, burrowing his nose into the tempting warmth, breathing in the other man’s unique, masculine scent.
“One evening out on the road, half a world from home”, Adam continued to sing, unaware of the camera flashes in the background. “I thought he was sleeping when the call came through. I said, ‘Darling, it’s late. Is everything okay?’ Silence took over the room.”
Kris lifted the hem of Adam’s tank top up with his nose, nuzzling at the bare skin like a man seeking heat from his long-lost lover. Drawing in a deep breath, he pressed his lips to the skin he had revealed, tasting the saltiness and musk of Adam with the tip of his tongue. Adam growled softly, his voice hitching in his throat as an effect of Kris’ ministrations. Feeling the press of Adam’s hand on the back of his neck, Kris continued peppering kisses all over his belly, drawing his tongue to make his own constellations with the freckles on the dark-haired man’s stomach.
He was oblivious to the rest of the world, drunk solely on Adam’s taste.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Honey, get those hands off your pretty face”, Brad grumbled impatiently, hooking his arm through Kris’ to stop him from doing so again. “This is YOUR moment, so own it!”
“Give him a break, man”, Tommy interjected. “He just got mobbed by reporters outside who were asking him about how Adam Lambert behaves in bed.”
“Well, that’s what you get when you start dating a public figure”, Archie shrugged. “Remember how big a deal it was when Cook and I first went public? Gosh, I couldn’t even leave the house without someone asking me some freaky question!”
“Of course”, Tommy grunted. “He was the American Idol and you were - and you are, still - a Juilliard scholar. That and he dumped Caldwell soon after he started giving you music lessons.”
“That’s why you don’t go for girls when you can have a pretty boy”, Brad said smugly. “Now, where the heck are we supposed to head - ah, there’s Cassidy!”
“Hey, guys”, Cassidy greeted them warmly. “Can I borrow Kris for a moment? I want him to see the photograph before the actual unveiling.”
“You have me”, Kris said with a wry grin. “Thanks for the save, man.”
“No problem”, Cassidy led him down the hall to a small room. “Adam’s the only other living being in there, so you won’t have to put up with any unnecessary questions - at least, not for awhile.”
Kris quietly slipped into the room and closed the door behind him. The photo had been blown up to five-six times its original size and was now encased in a gilded silver frame, propped up against the wall along with the others that were up for exhibit. He knew he had done an acceptable job when Cassidy and Brad couldn’t stop gushing over the photo, but he’d had no idea how beautiful it actually was until that very moment. He looked serene and almost angelic in the photo, his cheek resting against one of Adam’s thighs and his lips pressed to the bare skin of Adam’s belly. Adam, on the other hand, had a small, tender smile playing at the corners of his lips, his hand curled around the back of Kris’ neck.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” the real Adam asked from his spot on the floor. “I asked Cassidy for a copy in the exact same size as this one.”
“...yeah”, Kris admitted, plopping down next to him. “I’m amazed I didn’t look like a scared bunny rabbit; your singing to me really did the trick.”
“That look on my face?” Adam leaned closer, his blue-grey eyes clouded with longing. “I haven’t seen that expression in a mirror in months, Kris. Thank you for putting that look back on my face.”
Kris blushed and turned away, suddenly balking at the intensity of Adam’s gaze. Almost immediately, Adam reached out and tilted his chin, making their gazes meet again.
“Go out on a date with me, Kris Allen.”
“...gosh”, Kris breathed. “For a second back there, I thought you were going to ask me to marry you!”
Adam was silent for a moment, and then the laughter spilled from his lips, sweet, merry and real.
“You’re too much!” he exclaimed gaily, squeezing Kris’s left hand in between both of his. “So...dinner Monday night at Chick-fil-A?”
This time, it was Kris’ turn to laugh.
“Yes.”
By: Lady Michaelis
Pairing: Adam Lambert/Kris Allen, mentions of others - if you know where to look ;)
Rating: PG (homosexual paramour, kissing, green jokes, slightly offensive language)
Genre: Romance/Humor (AU)
Summary: Kris was not expecting to be told to kneel in between a handsome stranger’s legs during a Skin.Graft photoshoot.
Disclaimers: None of these gorgeous darlings are mine. The song lyrics are from I Just Love You by Five For Fighting. Adam Lambert has his own rendition of this song.
Note: This is written in response to Jerakeen’s prompt -> “Okay, last one:
This could be a dare, or you can find your own reason for it. What I want is, Kris kneeling between Adam's legs in a public place, and pushing his shirt up to kiss (or lick) his navel.
It has to be a first time fic, no fun if they're already together, and bonus points if Adam puts a hand on the back of Kris' neck to pull him closer.”
It wasn’t odd for Kris Allen to hear the sounds of loud laughter reverberating in the empty hallway as he made his way to his apartment. He had already gotten used to coming home to see one or even all of his friends sprawled all over his living room like they owned it. As soon as he had moved into the cozy one-bedroom flat, he had four spare keys made - one for each of friends. Ever since, it had been the Grand Central Station for all their little get-togethers. The other three boys practically lived there, and Kris just couldn’t suppress a smile whenever he found one of Brad’s sequined vests in his laundry or opened the refrigerator to see the tub of French Vanilla ice cream Tommy was going through for the week. Every time he inserted his key into the lock - as he was doing so at that very moment - he couldn’t wait to see what surprise would be waiting for him on the other side of midnight.
“Welcome home, baby doll!”
Bradley Bell was petite, brunette and Southern - much like Kris himself, actually, only more attuned to glitter and sequins. They had practically grown up in each other’s back pockets - Kris remembered the days when they thought they were twins separated at birth - and Brad had even followed him to university so they could take the music course together. While Kris was laid-back, responsible and decidedly domestic, Brad was flirty, hilarious and had a potty little mouth that belonged on a truck driver.
“Hey, man”, Kris allowed his friend to embrace him. “Who else is here?”
“Everyone else”, Brad chirped, reaching into the refrigerator for the bottle of Bailey’s he’d stuck in it last week. “Cassidy decided to drop the bomb on us tonight.”
This piqued Kris’ interest. Cassidy Haley was a fashion design student he and Brad had met in college, and hands-down the most elegant and spirited creature that Kris had ever met in his entire life. The man was also undeniably beautiful, with his graceful, angular face and sharp, pixie-ish features. He had been hard at work on new designs for Skin.Graft, a fashion label he had established along with two other classmates as his graduate thesis. Just last week, he had casually said that he had something big planned, but refused to answer all questions - even when Kris had promised him a hot date with the tall, scruffy music major that Cassidy had been crushing on since forever.
“And I guess this is why you’re bringing out the Bailey’s?” he queried, grabbing two other wine glasses from the shelves. “Normally, you’d be drinking the stuff straight out of the convenience store.”
“Oh please”, Brad rolled his eyes good-naturedly, slapping Kris on the butt as they made their way to the living room. “That was so last year. I made a New Year’s resolution not to take a swig until I get home.”
A lanky, dark-eyed man with a floppy skunk-do raised his head sluggishly, one eyebrow arched high at the sound of Brad’s words. “Dude, your resolutions never last forty-eight hours.”
Tommy Joe Ratliff worked shifts with Kris at the local music store. The young Arkansan had been pretty wary of him at first, taking into consideration his eternally bored disposition. The monotony had been broken when Tommy had sent him a Tweet to inform him of a change in shifts, and they’d had a surprisingly web-animated conversation afterward. Though eternally bored and seemingly unemotional, Tommy was also eternally affectionate in his own odd way, always coming to Kris’ rescue when the poor man had trouble escaping from giggly girls - or burly men - asking him out on dates.
And that was the very reason Kris had chosen to tumble into his lap instead of flopping into the chintz armchair that was obviously vacant.
“I’m surprised you got home alive”, Tommy droned. “I’ve drawn up a list of how many people try to pick you up in one night, and my rough estimate is seven to ten.”
“That is like, so unfair”, Brad sighed. “Kris is the one who’s pretty much asexual in this group, but his milkshake brings all the boys - and thought they are not relevant to my interest, girls - to the yard.”
“Being chill does wonders”, David Archuleta giggled, burrowing his way into Kris’ arms. “Gosh, Kris - all you have to do is just sit there, and everyone tries to come on to you.”
Bright-eyed and painfully adorable Archie - as they all fondly referred to the boy - was the sweetest thing in the world and Kris’ self-proclaimed baby. Kris had run into him about a year and a half ago in the music store, soaking wet with a large backpack slung over his shoulder, staring longingly at the copies of David Cook’s CD on sale. Thinking he was a high school student that had been unfortunate enough to be caught in the rainstorm, Kris immediately felt sorry for him and handed the poor thing a towel before treating him to some coffee. Right before closing time, Tommy pointed out that the kid was still there, so Kris sat at his table and asked if he needed a lift home - and that was when he got acquainted with Archie’s tale of woe. Apparently, he had left home because his father forbade him to attend music school, and he just couldn’t give up his dream in exchange for sitting down with accounting ledgers. Now, Archie was living with him and was taking music classes at The Juilliard College under full scholarship.
“You need to get laid, baby doll”, Brad continued. “All you do is work, work and work, and that is so not healthy for your social life. I think you need other outlets for your creativity.”
“What about modelling?” Cassidy suggested. “You’ve got the pretty face and the perfect body.”
“Are you humouring me, Cass?” Kris raised an eyebrow. “Because asking me to model is like asking George Clooney to marry his same-sex significant other.”
“I’m actually serious about this, Kris”, Cassidy replied candidly. “Jonny, Katie and I are going to enter this art exhibit for local fashion brands. Each label has to come up with a photoshoot showcasing their designs and capturing the essence of what they’re about.”
“And you want Kris to do this for you?” Tommy asked, idly running his hands through his hair. “If we’re guaranteed front row seats to witness the other side of Kris Allen, I’m game.”
“You mean his inner slut?” Brad’s eyes lit up. “Oh this is going to be so super! Can I do his makeup?”
“Gosh, this is exciting!” Archie pulled out of Kris’ embrace like a jack-in-a-box. “I think it’s going to be a treat to see you in something besides plaid for once.”
“Guys, I haven’t even agreed to this yet!” Kris flailed, sliding off Tommy’s lap.
“Please, sweetie?” Cassidy reached out to squeeze his hand. “You’re perfect for the concept I have in mind, and it won’t work as well with anyone else.”
Kris sighed. He loved Cassidy to death and could never say no to him.
“Fine, I’ll do it”, he mumbled. “But you guys had better treat me to lunch at Chick-fil-A for one week - and you have to eat there with me!”
“…goodbye, perfect complexion”, Brad sighed dramatically. “It was nice knowing you.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Kris felt his jaw drop as he gazed at his reflection in the mirror. Sure, he was still the same old Kristopher Neil Allen, but the magic Brad had worked onto his face made him look just a wee bit prettier. He self-consciously tugged at the hem of the micro-mini vest Cassidy made him wear, wishing he could pull it down low enough to cover his stomach. Coupled with tight metallic silver pants, low-heeled black lace-up boots, silver necklaces and a slave bracelet, Kris felt as if he was ready to go onstage at one of those clubs Brad liked to frequent. There were a million butterflies in his stomach, though, as what was supposed to be a small group expanded into twenty-something people whose jobs he couldn’t even keep track of. He had just been expecting Cassidy, Brad, Jonny Cota and Katie Kay, but Tommy, Archie, his childhood friend Cale Mills and Archie’s rockstar boyfriend David Cook had all come to watch.
Them and the twenty-something assistants that were running all over the place made Kris feel that he was posing for some magazine like Vanity Fair instead of a local design exhibit.
“…I’m going to embarrass myself in a room of all these people”, he remarked faintly. “What the heck are you even doing here, Cale?”
“You’re not happy to see me, shorty?” the ruggedly handsome man feigned hurt. “I decided to show up and help with the heavy lifting. It would be rude of me not to assist the man I’m courting on his road to fame and stardom.”
“Oh, shut up, Cale”, Cassidy smiled, brushing his fingers over the taller man’s stubble. “I love how you still came even though I said I have enough helpers for today.”
“Since when were you two dating?” Kris’ eyes bugged out.
“We met again right before the new year while I was doing my groceries”, Cale chuckled. “Cass caught me belting out Bad Day to frozen chicken legs on aisle three.”
“I thought it was adorable”, Cassidy chuckled softly, stroking Cale’s forearm. “We decided to have lunch together, and I accidentally blurted out that I liked him in college.”
“I found that little slip-up interesting, so I asked him out on a second date”, Cale laughed. “And stop giving me that bugged-eyed look, shorty - it won’t look good on camera.”
“And what about you?” Kris turned to Cook.
“I’m responsible for your fellow model”, the Kansas City native explained. “As usual, he’s running late - probably taking his dear sweet time with his makeup again.”
“I’m modelling with someone else?” Kris blinked. “How come I didn’t know this?”
“Sorry, sweetie”, Cassidy apologized, giving him a brief squeeze. “With all the things I’m doing, it must have slipped my mind. You don’t have to worry about anything, though - Adam’s a nice guy.”
“Adam?”
“Adam Lambert, winner of American Idol’s eighth season and my best bud”, Cook supplied. “You know - tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed with the world’s most fucked up glory notes?”
Kris’ eyes went goggle-wide. Of course he knew who the heck Adam Lambert was. He’d followed the show religiously and voted for the said rockstar whenever he got the chance.
He also had a gargantuan crush on Adam Lambert.
“And this is when Kris Allen gets all tongue-tied and red in the face”, Tommy announced dryly, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. “Because he is now going to meet the man he’s been having wet dreams about since the season eight auditions.”
“Cassidy!” Kris whined, flailing. “I can’t do this with - ”
“Fucking fuck! I’m so, so sorry, Cassidy!”
The door flew open with a bang, and a tall, imposing man dressed in a tight-fitting black sleeveless shirt, tight black leather pants that outlined every ridge and curve of his muscular legs, chunky black combat boots and bedecked in about a million necklaces, cuffs and rings flew into the room, nearly toppling Cassidy over in a giant bear hug.
“It’s fine, Adam”, Cassidy laughed, squeezing him back tightly before letting go. “You arrived just in time for us to start - ah, I see you’ve done your makeup already.”
Kris gulped, trying - and failing - not to gaze upon the most handsome face that had crossed his mind since seeing Leonardo di Caprio in Romeo + Juliet. The foundation, liner, mascara and lip gloss enhanced Adam Lambert’s already perfect features, giving him an ethereal glow.
“I figured I’d go ahead and finish prepping up so we could start right away”, the rockstar explained, slipping on a blue metallic leather duster that was practically bathing in silver studs and spikes. “By the way, when am I going to meet my fellow model?”
Kris squeaked as Cassidy practically shoved him at Adam, suddenly desperate to lay his eyes on anything except the man he had long-idolized.
“This is Kris Allen”, the designer introduced them. “He was a music major at my college and is one of my best friends. Kris, this is Adam Lambert - no need for further explanation.”
“Hey, Kris”, Adam’s handshake was firm and warm - just like the grin on his face. “I’m Adam. Cass mentioned that I was going to be paired up with someone today, but I didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to be modelling with someone as gorgeous as you are.”
“...just so you know, I’m trying to come up with something that doesn’t sound completely stupid right now”, Kris offered meekly. “I mean, I’ve seen you on Idol...and just, wow.”
“He voted for you every week”, Brad clamoured. “More than ten times, I think.”
“He’d record all your performances”, Archie added. “And buy all your songs on iTunes.”
“He’d make me stop watching my horror movies just so he could watch the replays”, Tommy said.
“Way to save me from being embarrassed, guys”, Kris mumbled, his cheeks heating up.
“Really?” Adam actually seemed pleased. “That’s so sweet of you, baby - thank you.”
Kris felt his heart rate slowly returning to normal, put to ease by Adam’s genuine niceness. Since this was a photoshoot, Kris had been expecting to see him in glam god mode, even though he knew how sweet Adam could be. It was hard to stay nervous when he was the current recipient of that brilliant, happy smile he had learned to love so much.
“So, are you two ready?” Cassidy interrupted his thoughts. “Jonny’s already set up the camera.”
“Shall we?” Adam gestured to the set - a large Victorian armchair with red velvet cushions, a small antique table with a vase of roses and a faux zebra-print rug.
“Okay”, Kris agreed. “I have zero experience, so I might end up making a fool out of myself.”
“You’ll do fine”, Adam assured him. “Just do what comes naturally to you.”
“Okay, Adam, I want you in that chair”, Cassidy directed them. “Kris, kneel on the floor between his legs. I’m aiming for a modern-day prince and his lover theme here.”
Kris could hear Archie and Brad giggling - he could practically hear Tommy smirk, too - in the background as he sank to his knees, trying to swallow the lump in his throat as he came face-to-face with Adam’s crotch, which seemed like it would tear through the leather at the most opportune moment. Unsure of what to do, he turned to Cassidy, hoping for more instructions.
“I’ll test the lighting first”, Jonny informed them. “Feel free to ignore the flashes while getting into your element.”
“You’ve got to relax, Kris”, Adam chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “I don’t think this is what you want to hear right now, but you look like you’re being sent off to the gallows instead of being invited into bed.”
“Put on your sex face!” Brad hollered. “You do it all the time at home.”
Kris would have buried his face into the next available surface - except that it was Adam’s groin.
“Hmmm, let’s make this easier for you”, Adam said thoughtfully. “Would it make you feel better if I say, sang to you? Your little friends made it clear that you enjoyed my stint on Idol, so maybe me singing would help you calm down.”
“...that could work”, Kris whispered. “Maybe you could give it a try.”
“Alright, then”, Adam smiled warmly at him. “Move with the music, okay? Just do what comes naturally.”
Kris nodded, gingerly placing his hands on Adam’s thighs to steady himself. “Is this uhm, okay...?”
“Of course”, Adam assured him. “Your grip should be more relaxed, but that’s going to come.”
The rockstar was quiet for a moment, his eyes closed tightly as if in deep thought.
“Lonely, yeah, that’s the word”, he sang softly, reaching out to stroke Kris’s hair. “I leave my heart when I leave him. The days go on forever and the nights do too...”
Kris shivered with delight, feeling the warm tones of Adam’s voice wash over him. He was vaguely aware of the fact that the rockstar had chosen to change the pronouns to fit the situation more, but that didn’t really matter at the moment. Sighing happily, he leaned forward and nuzzled Adam’s belly, burrowing his nose into the tempting warmth, breathing in the other man’s unique, masculine scent.
“One evening out on the road, half a world from home”, Adam continued to sing, unaware of the camera flashes in the background. “I thought he was sleeping when the call came through. I said, ‘Darling, it’s late. Is everything okay?’ Silence took over the room.”
Kris lifted the hem of Adam’s tank top up with his nose, nuzzling at the bare skin like a man seeking heat from his long-lost lover. Drawing in a deep breath, he pressed his lips to the skin he had revealed, tasting the saltiness and musk of Adam with the tip of his tongue. Adam growled softly, his voice hitching in his throat as an effect of Kris’ ministrations. Feeling the press of Adam’s hand on the back of his neck, Kris continued peppering kisses all over his belly, drawing his tongue to make his own constellations with the freckles on the dark-haired man’s stomach.
He was oblivious to the rest of the world, drunk solely on Adam’s taste.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Honey, get those hands off your pretty face”, Brad grumbled impatiently, hooking his arm through Kris’ to stop him from doing so again. “This is YOUR moment, so own it!”
“Give him a break, man”, Tommy interjected. “He just got mobbed by reporters outside who were asking him about how Adam Lambert behaves in bed.”
“Well, that’s what you get when you start dating a public figure”, Archie shrugged. “Remember how big a deal it was when Cook and I first went public? Gosh, I couldn’t even leave the house without someone asking me some freaky question!”
“Of course”, Tommy grunted. “He was the American Idol and you were - and you are, still - a Juilliard scholar. That and he dumped Caldwell soon after he started giving you music lessons.”
“That’s why you don’t go for girls when you can have a pretty boy”, Brad said smugly. “Now, where the heck are we supposed to head - ah, there’s Cassidy!”
“Hey, guys”, Cassidy greeted them warmly. “Can I borrow Kris for a moment? I want him to see the photograph before the actual unveiling.”
“You have me”, Kris said with a wry grin. “Thanks for the save, man.”
“No problem”, Cassidy led him down the hall to a small room. “Adam’s the only other living being in there, so you won’t have to put up with any unnecessary questions - at least, not for awhile.”
Kris quietly slipped into the room and closed the door behind him. The photo had been blown up to five-six times its original size and was now encased in a gilded silver frame, propped up against the wall along with the others that were up for exhibit. He knew he had done an acceptable job when Cassidy and Brad couldn’t stop gushing over the photo, but he’d had no idea how beautiful it actually was until that very moment. He looked serene and almost angelic in the photo, his cheek resting against one of Adam’s thighs and his lips pressed to the bare skin of Adam’s belly. Adam, on the other hand, had a small, tender smile playing at the corners of his lips, his hand curled around the back of Kris’ neck.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” the real Adam asked from his spot on the floor. “I asked Cassidy for a copy in the exact same size as this one.”
“...yeah”, Kris admitted, plopping down next to him. “I’m amazed I didn’t look like a scared bunny rabbit; your singing to me really did the trick.”
“That look on my face?” Adam leaned closer, his blue-grey eyes clouded with longing. “I haven’t seen that expression in a mirror in months, Kris. Thank you for putting that look back on my face.”
Kris blushed and turned away, suddenly balking at the intensity of Adam’s gaze. Almost immediately, Adam reached out and tilted his chin, making their gazes meet again.
“Go out on a date with me, Kris Allen.”
“...gosh”, Kris breathed. “For a second back there, I thought you were going to ask me to marry you!”
Adam was silent for a moment, and then the laughter spilled from his lips, sweet, merry and real.
“You’re too much!” he exclaimed gaily, squeezing Kris’s left hand in between both of his. “So...dinner Monday night at Chick-fil-A?”
This time, it was Kris’ turn to laugh.
“Yes.”