THE PHOENIX IN A GILDED CAGE (Part One of Two)
THE PHOENIX IN A GILDED CAGE
A Kradam Romance in Two Parts
Part One: Voodoo Night
By: Lady Michaelis
Pairing: Adam Lambert/Kris Allen (slight Tommy Ratliff/Kris Allen and Taylor Green/Kris Allen)
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Graphic sexual situations, cage dancing, foul language
Genre: Romance/Erotica/Humor
Summary: They were fools; Kris and Tommy-fools in great need of money.
Disclaimers: Kris Allen delights me to no end with his recent love of commando and short, tight shirts. Sadly, I do not lord over him; nor do I own Adam Lambert, for this matter.
Kris Allen liked to think of himself as the follow-your-instincts kind of guy. If there was something he hated, it was the feeling of having an itch he couldn’t scratch just because people expected him to behave accordingly and do what was expected of him. He’d done enough of that growing up; he wanted to start fulfilling his own dreams. Knowing full well that he would never be able to achieve self-actualization by staying in Conway, Kris had packed up his belonging to take a music course at the University of California, Los Angeles. His parents had been wary and his then-girlfriend had slammed her front door in his face, but Kris was well-aware of what he needed and wanted to do.
Freedom was not going to come crawling after him-he needed to chase after it.
“You ready, man?” a large, heavyset man poked his head into Kris’ dressing room. “Tommy says you’re on in three-this crowd doesn’t seem to like waiting.”
“I’ll be done in a minute, Charles,” Kris assured him, critically eyeing his reflection in the vanity mirror. “What do you think, Tay? Have I caked on enough body glitter for the night?”
“You look perfect,” Taylor Green said dreamily, dusting away the stray flecks of glittery shadow from underneath Kris’ eyes. “You’re going to be the most beautiful person in the room.”
“Thank you, love,” Kris murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to Taylor’s mouth. “Wish me luck?”
“You don’t need it,” Taylor shook his head, eyes bright with affection. “They’re going to love you, and we’re going to have enough money for cake tomorrow.”
“And you can get the biggest piece,” Kris smiled, allowing Taylor to slip his robe on. “Stay close to Tommy, alright? I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. I daresay Charles and Torres will be too busy keeping an eye out for me; god forbid Tommy cut their pay again. I think they lost about fifteen percent because someone touched me on their watch last week.”
“Tommy was saying something about sawing off customers’ hands the next time that happened,” Taylor said solemnly. “I don’t remember seeing him so angry before.”
“That’s because no one could ever get mad at you, sweetie,” Kris winked at him. “Now, come on-I have a show to perform. I’m wearing the lucky moo thong, so nothing bad is going to happen.”
“I like cows,” Taylor cocked his head. “I hope no one tries to steal it; I will be very angry.”
“I’ll escort Taylor to TJ’s table,” Chris Torres met them in the hallway. “Browder, you get Kris into the cage-remember, no funny stuff; I refuse to get into trouble with TJ.”
“Don’t worry, man,” Charles Browder grinned, setting his shotgun on safety mode. “I renewed my firearm license this week; no one’s going to want to get within a foot of this monster.”
“I don’t believe so,” Kris shook his head, laughing. “It’s almost half my size.”
“Hopefully, I won’t have to use it tonight,” Charles huffed, reaching out to unlock the cage door for Kris. “You sure you’ll be okay in there, buddy?”
“Charles, I’ve been doing this for almost three months now,” Kris smiled benignly as he stepped inside. “Don’t worry about me; I’ll be alright. God forbid it if Tommy actually let something happen.”
“Charles, might I have a moment alone with Kris?”
Tommy Joe Ratliff peeked in from behind the curtain, dressed to the nines in his usual evening attire of skintight black clothing and dark makeup. Mock-saluting them both, Charles slipped back out via the entrance Tommy had used, leaving them to their privy.
“Is everything okay?” Kris asked. “You don’t usually stop by before a show to give me a pep talk-not that I don’t want to hear from you or anything.”
“Everything’s perfect,” Tommy assured him. “I just want to give you a heads up about tonight’s crowd. Apparently, there are some talent scouts at the party tonight who are interested in this little endeavor of ours. You’ve become pretty famous in the past three months thanks to the exposure we were lucky enough to get. I don’t know if you’re willing to go mainstream, but it’s definitely going to bring in a lot of money. If you want to impress them, it’s entirely up to you.”
“What do you think?” Kris asked. “I know you’re not too keen on me doing this, but we both agreed that it’s the best way to rake in some cash. I wouldn’t mind doing this for as long as it takes.”
“And I know that a part of you really has to do this,” Tommy sighed. “Given how you grew up, I’m not surprised you’re craving the feel of cold metal against your skin and the sound of people about to orgasm at the mere mention of your name. Go out there and have a ball, Kris.”
“I love you,” Kris blew him a kiss. “Thank you for letting me do this.”
“Cue music in five seconds.”
Tommy pushed his aviators back into place and left as quietly as he came. Kris knew the routine perfectly well from there. As soon as Adam Lambert’s “Voodoo” came on, he was going to shrug off the robe and give his audience a show to remember.
Moonshine on the bayou
Love shrine break the taboo
I wanna know what’s in your potion
Bound by total devotion
He tossed his head back as the curtains parted, relishing in the combined sound of ecstatic screams from the audience and the trance-like beat of the song. “Voodoo” was his favorite song to gyrate to; there was just something about Adam Lambert’s voice that made Kris feel just a little braver up there. He’d had a massive crush on the man ever since he invaded MTV with his music video of “For Your Entertainment”, making Kris want to be one of those dancers writhing at Lambert’s feet.
It was only fair to deduce that Lambert had unleashed Kris Allen’s inner slut.
Winking at his audience of what seemed to be a hundred or so, he shimmied out of his silk robe and let it drop to the floor, exposing his nearly nude form. He heard several men whooping appreciatively as he pressed his backside against the cage, giving them a clear view of his toned, perfectly round ass. This was exactly why Kris thrived in such a seedy profession-the thrill it gave him was the most satisfying feeling in the world. Ironically, he felt freer when he was locked in a cage; it was his own little world, and he had the power to bring his audience to their knees.
I was lookin’ for love all over
You’re the hunter and I’m your prey
Now I’m lost in a love hangover
I try to leave, but I have to stay
Kris moaned lustfully as he palmed his crotch, allowing the high to possess him entirely. Oftentimes, he would allow his imagination to run wild whenever he danced; his perverted thoughts of Adam Lambert enjoyed spending too much time in his not-so-distant memory. Kris had countless wet dreams of the rockstar fucking him against a wall or pounding him into a mattress in some nondescript hotel room, and those fantasies just amped his performances up to a whole entire level. He could care less about the multitude of men reaching out for him and trying to get him to bare even more; all he needed was the imaginary feeling of Adam Lambert’s large hands on his body.
He allowed his eyes to roam the room for his companions. Charles and Torres were at their stations beneath the cage, unmoving and eternally vigilant. Kris had known them both forever; Charles was his best friend (and always would be) and Torres attended high school with him back in Conway. He had asked them to serve as his security force simply because he trusted them completely-they would never divulge his secrets and would never let anyone lay a finger on him. It had taken Charles awhile to connect with the idea of Kris getting into cages and dancing for the rambunctious, troublemaking LA crowd, but Kris had won him over in the end with a lot of help from Torres.
Taylor had kept true to his promise of sticking to the prescribed company. He was curled up on the plush divan next to Tommy; eyes alight with wonder and delight as he watched Kris perform. The young man was a stray kitten in their lives, but he was sweet and always eager to lend a hand. Kris had literally picked him off the streets about a month ago on his way home from a show. Taylor had been slightly stoned and smoking up a pack of cigarettes, but Kris could tell from the weary look in his eyes and the way his shoulders were hunched over in defeat that he was simply nothing more than a young boy who had run away from home. He had always been known to take home stray puppies and kittens, so no one had done as much as raised an eyebrow when Kris showed up at the doorstep with Taylor in tow. Eventually, he had proven himself to be quite a useful commodity, taking it as his duty to help Kris prepare for shows by picking out his outfits and doing his makeup.
He was also the sweetest person in the universe, and Kris and Tommy loved him like their own.
Cause it’s voodoo, voodoo, voodoo, voodoo
Under your spell
Cause it’s voodoo, voodoo, voodoo, voodoo
Under your spell
Of all the relationships in his circle, the one Kris had with Tommy was probably the most interesting and most tumultuous of all. They had met in UCLA; Kris had just set foot into the campus as a freshman, and Tommy was a senior beginning his last year in college. The two had bonded quickly after becoming classmates in the music elective course they had taken together, and had been inseparable ever since. Everything had been going smoothly until the night of an acquaintance party organized by one of their classmates. The party had been a cover-up for a fraternity hazing involving unprotected gay sex. To save their lives, Kris and Tommy had promised to pay a large sum of money in exchange for granting them escape. They had been given half a year to pay off the debt, leaving them with no option but to drop out of college and seek employment elsewhere.
They’d been expecting day jobs at a local Starbucks, though; not a career for Kris in cage dancing.
It had happened by accident. They had been invited to a friend’s open bar party one night, and Kris had ended up having one too many drinks. Going slightly over his preferred alcohol limit ended up with videos and pictures of him doing a Coyote Ugly on the bar as well as an offhand comment about how he would totally work the crowd if he got into cage dancing. Needless to say, Tommy had accompanied him to his very first audition, giving birth to the reputable cage dancer that Kris Allen was today.
Swamp sings of a love bizarre
Snake bites aligning stars
I’m in rapture, there is no cure
No sanctuary from your allure
It wasn’t a career that Kris was planning to keep, but he was sure of one thing-it gave him artistic freedom. He did not have the luxury of showing his true colors back home in Conway; Arkansas was a terrible place for the LGBT community, and Kris had no idea what could happen to him if he wasn’t careful. It had been difficult to have to rein all his emotion in, but he knew very well that he had to protect himself until the moment he set foot in LAX. Indeed, there was nothing noble about allowing himself to be the object of man’s desire in a cage, but the very idea of it had sewn itself around Kris like a second skin. This was who he was now, and he was determined to stay on as this confident, less vulnerable version of himself.
The bills were beginning to pile up on the cage floor, the very sight of them pleasing him greatly. He had caught sight of several hundred dollar bills in the mess, knowing full well that this was set out to be a great night. Hopefully, some of them were tips from the people Tommy had told him about; they could definitely use the extra cash. They weren’t hard up on money or anything-the debt was almost paid up, and they could afford a few luxuries every now and then-but Kris found an odd comfort in the stability of his finances. As long as his crew could live comfortably, he was happy.
Life didn’t need to become more complicated than what he had already made it into.
Cause the voodoo that you do is all that you can do
Make me into your fool
Cause when you do the voodoo
I’m just a doll that the pins keep pushing into
The bridge portion was always the highlight of his performances. He enjoyed giving the audience a bit more of what was appropriate; sliding his thong a little lower, revealing the jut of his hipbones and the top of his pert ass. Oftentimes, he’d even hang from the top of the cage (basic stripper classes and gymnastics had been a big, big help) and arch his back like a cat wanting to be petted, eliciting even more approval from his audience. This was when Charles and Torres moved forward to contain the crowd; even Tommy would get up from his seat and do his own version of crowd control, scowling and muttering obscenities whenever someone went too far. Fortunately, people knew they were in deep shit whenever Tommy would join Charles and Torres; he was undoubtedly the most terrible human being when angered.
Kris executed his famous upside down stunt, smirking mischievously as he tugged on Tommy’s thick mane of bleach blond hair. Chuckling softly, Tommy leaned in, letting Kris reach out from between the steel bars to stroke his face. He hummed pleasantly at the touch, sweeping his aviators off with one hand before pulling Kris in for a torrid, spontaneous kiss; their moans and pants swallowed whole by the hoots of approval and envy from the crowd.
Honestly, he should have done this before; it just egged the crowd on even more.
“I bet they’re all wishing they were me, puppy,” Tommy teased. “But yeah, that should get them to back off a little-carry on, love.”
So everytime I try to break this trance
Imma so afraid I’ll miss my chance to be bewitched, bothered by you
I just gotta say I want your hex; I don’t wanna live without your hex
I’m so obsessed with your sexiness
Kris loved it when Lambert hit the glory notes; it made him want to flip his shit in the best way possible. Seriously speaking, the man’s voice could bring him to orgasm at any given time of the day. It was rather embarrassing how many times he’d come just by jerking off to Lambert’s songs-Tommy and Taylor had walked in on him once or twice, even. If Marxist beliefs claimed that religion was the opiate of the masses, then Adam Lambert’s voice was definitely the Viagra in Kris Allen’s life. It was almost laughable how nothing could get him up the way Lambert’s voice could. He’d fooled around with some boys in college, but all those encounters had him apologizing and putting on his jacket before they could even get remotely sexual. Stupid Lambert and his stupid, sexy voice-nothing could really compare.
As soon as he’d righted himself again, Tommy was nowhere to be found. A quick look around the club let him know that Tommy had returned to his private table, conversing quietly with a tall, stocky man whose shock of dark hair reminded Kris of a pineapple. He couldn’t exactly read Tommy’s body language since his back was turned to Kris, but he could tell from the awed expression on Taylor’s face that it was something interesting. Of course, he wouldn’t be able to hear anything over the music and the screaming; he would just have to ask them about it after the show.
It just had to be good news; Kris enjoyed having his weekly dose of good news amidst the insanity.
He pressed himself against the bars again, blowing a kiss to the boys in the front row. He felt he was quite a pornographic sight to behold now; naked, glittering skin glistening with sweat under the dim club lighting. Even after almost three months of doing this, it still surprised him how sexed out he looked whenever he watched his performances on video. If anyone from Conway ever managed to get their hands on a copy, they would probably die of shock at the fact that their precious, perfect Kristopher spent his nights giving men erections by dancing naked in a cage with his butt hanging out.
Sometimes, he just felt like laughing at the idea. There was nothing remotely funny about being on the receiving end of a lecture from his parents or being excommunicated from New Life-not that he didn’t want to; New Life folk were harsh on the gay lifestyle-but Kris was a living, breathing irony.
Pushing all thoughts and worries from his head, he threw his head back and arched against the steel bars like a stretching leopard, licking a long wet stripe up his palm before rubbing it on his clothed cock, signaling the end of his show. The deafening cheers filled his ears when the last notes of the song died away, allowing him to bask and revel in the rawness of the night.
“Thank you for coming, everyone,” he said demurely, tucking some of the bills into the waistband of his thong before motioning for Charles and Torres to begin gathering up the rest. “I had a great time tonight; hopefully, I’ll see you again soon.”
Cause it’s voodoo, voodoo, voodoo, voodoo
Under your spell
Cause it’s voodoo, voodoo, voodoo, voodoo
Under your spell
I’m so obsessed with your sexiness
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“No plaid tonight, Krissifer,” Taylor said tartly, practically shoving the skintight, wine red long-sleeved shirt over Kris’ head. “Tommy said you have an important meeting coming up, so you can’t go back out there in your grungy day attire.”
“You mean we’re still not done pleasing people?” Kris sighed, allowing Taylor to dust some glitter powder across his cheekbones. “Even I have pleasantry limits when I’m exhausted.”
“Tommy will do most of the talking, anyway,” Taylor shrugged, pressing his lips to Kris’ cheek. “All you have to do is sit there and look pretty-it always works.”
“You should come along,” Kris suggested. “Charles and Torres, too. If this is as big as Tommy is making it out to be, I’d like for everyone to hear the news.”
He followed Taylor into one of the private smoking rooms, frowning slightly at the prospect of having to endure second-hand smoking for an hour or so. He didn’t really mind taking in a whiff of the nasty shit out on the streets-he lived in LA, after all-but being forced to inhale it in a closed space was sheer torture.
The setup didn’t look strange at all. Tommy was sitting by his lonesome on a sofa across two other gentlemen-one being the pineapple-haired man from earlier and the other, Brad Bell, a frequent partygoer and a good friend of Kris’ little family.
“Hello, petal,” Brad greeted him saucily, rising to give him a little peck on the forehead. “You look as lovely as ever; I hate how Tommy’s been keeping you away from me. By the way, I only reserved this area so we could have some privacy-no one’s going to smoke, I swear. ”
“Alright, everyone take a seat,” Tommy ordered. “I want to go straight to the point here so Kris will have time to weigh his decision later on.”
Decision? Kris had gone from curious to wary in five seconds flat. What was this, anyway?
“First, a round of introductions,” Tommy said briskly. “Kris, this is Monte Pittman, Adam Lambert’s lead guitarist and head musician. Monte, this is Kris Allen, the man of the hour. These are Charles Browder and Chris Torres; they serve as Kris’ security. This little fellow right here is Taylor Green, Kris’ PA.”
“How do you do, everyone?” Monte asked cordially, rising for a quick round of handshakes. “And Kris-it’s good to finally meet you. I hope you’re faring well nowadays.”
“Erm, I’m doing okay, I guess,” Kris responded, still unable to wipe the puzzled look off his face. “I’ve, uhm, seen you perform onstage with Adam Lambert; you’re, uh, really talented.”
“Thank you,” Monte said graciously. “But I’m sure you’re wondering what the hell I’m doing here.”
Kris nodded, trying not to look too enthusiastic. Thank god this guy was decent enough to state the obvious; having to say the words himself would be quite an embarrassment on Kris’ part.
“Adam sent me, actually,” Monte explained. “He heard of you from Brad and some of his friends who had chanced upon your performances in the past, and wants to hire you for the launch party of his second album. I’ve already gone over the fees with Tommy here; Adam wants to book you for the night in exchange for ten thousand dollars. In case something inappropriate happens, he’s willing to throw in an extra three thousand for just compensation.”
Kris stared. The highest he had ever been paid per show was about a thousand-he had not been expecting such an offer. No wonder Tommy was being so anal about it.
“Finance-wise, it’d be good for us,” Tommy piped up. “But as always, we leave the final decision to you. It’s not about how much money we make, but how you feel about the job.”
“I’ll do it.”
He was tempted to laugh at the looks of shock on his companions’ faces; clearly, no one had been expecting him to agree so quickly. Maybe they had forgotten that Kris was quite the hardcore Adam Lambert fan-not hardcore enough to be considered crazy, but hardcore nonetheless.
“…you think we can get him to sign one of your thongs?” Taylor broke the silence.
“Oh, Adam will scrawl his signature all over Kris’ bouncy tushy if he could,” Brad cackled. “He’ll be happy to know you agreed; I’ll probably get a shopping spree tomorrow.”
“We do have certain rules, though,” Tommy was quick to steer the conversation back to business matters. “First of all, no one is allowed to touch Kris while he’s performing. Given the kind of crowd that may be in attendance, I’d like to request for extra security just to be sure things stay under control. Also, once the performance is over, it’s over. No asking Kris for private stripteases when he’s out of that cage and fully clothed once again. And if this gets on TMZ, I am going to kill every person at that party. Is this clear?”
“It sounds rather terrifying, but I think Adam can handle that,” Monte said with a chuckle. “At least peck him on the cheek in congratulations, Kris; he’d probably pout and whine all night if he doesn’t get that.”
“He gets his hands into Kris’ thong, and I will sock him,” Tommy intoned humorlessly. “But if we can reach a consensus on everything else, I think we’ve reached an agreement.”
“Thank you,” Monte looked relieved. “I’m sure Adam will be pleased. The party will take place this Friday, six o’clock, at Adam’s mansion. He wants Kris as an opening act, so you guys should be there early.”
“Done and done,” Tommy jotted the information down in his notebook. “Thank you for the opportunity; as long as none of the items in my mental contract will be breached, everything will go well.”
“Tommy Joe is terrible, but he means well,” Brad smirked. “It’s in everyone’s best interests to ensure Krissy is under maximum protection at all times.”
“I can take care of myself!” Kris said hotly. “I’m not that unreliable.”
“You are when a hot guy approaches you after a performance,” Charles rolled his eyes. “How many times have I had to haul you away to safety because you allowed some stranger to get too personal?”
“They’re only being friendly!” Kris protested. “And I don’t want to look impolite or anything.”
“Impolite my ass,” Tommy scowled. “He was sticking his hand into your jeans!”
“Adam’s obsessed with you, so he’s going to be the only person who’s actually going to stick a hand into your pants,” Monte grinned. “He’s a jealous bastard; he’ll provide you the best security possible-though I can’t promise you’re going to remain a virgin by the end of the night.”
Kris felt a furious blush creep up his cheeks. Adam Lambert was obsessed with him? Which parallel universe was this and where was the sign-up sheet for it?
“…oh crap.”
“What’s wrong, petal?” Brad arched an eyebrow. “You look like your mother just walked into the room while you were jacking off to Brent Corrigan’s Schoolboy Crush.”
“I just realized that I have less than a week to come up with a new routine!” Kris shot to his feet, face drained of all color. “I cannot believe this!”
“What for?” Taylor looked genuinely puzzled. “People really dig this one.”
“Kiddo, he usually dances to an Adam Lambert song,” Torres said patiently. “Knowing Kris, he’ll be too embarrassed to perform to the beat of an erotic song at the launch party of the said artist.”
Tommy sighed. “I’ll fit rehearsals into the schedule somehow. If a single nine-to-five schedule is the only way we’ll manage to hash a new dance routine together, then no one is allowed to complain.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was amazing how sheer agony could cause time to travel faster. Thanks to the countless dance rehearsals and shopping trips for new costumes, the week had flown by quickly for Kris. Agonizing wasn’t too good for his health, though; he had woken up that morning with an upset stomach that Taylor had to soothe with cups of chamomile tea and constant cuddling.
That was honestly the worst case of stomach butterflies he’d ever had.
“Can someone please tell me why the apartment is drowning in an ocean of thongs?” Tommy asked, picking a few sequined numbers off the floor and tossing them to Kris. “Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind over what to wear to Lambert’s party again.”
“He’s been at it all day,” Taylor giggled. “He normally doesn’t care about what he wears, but he’s been behaving like a girl on her period when he found out that the purple silk thong we picked out yesterday is now too loose on him because he lost weight due to constant rehearsing.”
“Is it my fault that I want to impress him?” Kris mumbled. “He’s a celebrity, guys-a really big one at that. I need to put on something that’s actually going to impress the ruler of the glam universe.”
“Wow, Kris Allen is actually trying to impress someone,” Tommy raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got it bad for this guy, don’t you? I’m amazed you were able to choreograph a routine to a Lady Gaga number when “Voodoo” is like, your national cage dancing anthem or something.”
“Okay, so I’m a fan of his work,” Kris flailed, throwing his hands up in the air. “My having to dance for Adam Lambert is like Britney Spears having to sing a Madonna song. If he feels that he’s not getting his money’s worth, I am going to drown myself in some remote lake area out there.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Tommy scolded, handing him a glittery blue thong. “Here, I think this will work; the man is rather fond of colors in the blue spectrum.”
“And you can match that with the feathery black robe that came in the mail last week!” Taylor‘s eyes lit up. “Pair everything with lots of jewelry and those wicked lace-up hooker boots, and you are good to go. Adam Lambert is going to love you, Kris; you might even get lucky tonight.”
Kris groaned and buried his face into the throw pillow. How could he even get himself excited at the prospect of getting laid when he was too busy being nervous about his performance?
“Babe, you have to chill the fuck out,” Tommy leaned in to kiss the top of his head. “Nothing good is going to come out of you agonizing over every little thing. Now, let’s get you changed and into hair and makeup so we can stay on schedule. We’ll stop for Chick-Fil-A on the way if it’ll make you feel better.”
“…okay,” Kris peered up at Tommy from the top of the pillow.
“That’s my baby,” Tommy smiled. “Taylor, go and make him into the star that he is; I’ve got to run some things by the extra security that Lambert so kindly provided us, but I’ll be back to check on you later.”
Kris gave Tommy a quick peck on the lips before leaving the comfort of the sofa to follow Taylor into their makeshift dressing room, already feeling better about the whole damned situation. He should treat this just like any other performance; he just needed to add a few extra hip rolls for Adam Lambert’s satisfaction.
“Are you sure the straps on this thing won’t like, snap in half?” he asked jokingly as he slipped out of his daytime attire. “I’ve never worn anything with straps this thin in my life.”
“I don’t think they will,” Taylor laughed, giving the thong straps a few good tugs before handing them over to Kris. “Skin.Graft makes pretty durable stuff, so I don’t think you’re going to have any accidents; Cassidy made sure of that when Tommy ordered your first batch of customized thongs.”
“I rather like them, though,” Kris grinned, wiggling his ass a little to get a better feel of the garment. “They’re comfortable and they don’t bunch up in front.”
“You’re pretty,” Taylor shot him a lopsided grin. “But you’re pretty even in plaid.”
“I’d never look this good without your help, Tay,” Kris shook his head. “Because deep inside, I’m always going to be this nondescript plaid person with his head in the clouds all the time.”
“You’re shiny in your own special way, Krissifer.”
Kris knew the routine well by now. Taylor would work on his face first-foundation, concealer, glittery eyeshadow in three shades, eyeliner, mascara and lipgloss. Afterwards, he would rub Kris all over with lotion and drizzle glitter powder all over him. He always ended up looking like some sort of celestial being afterward-a far cry from his plaid in the daytime-but he enjoyed embracing this other Kris. In a way, other Kris felt more like the real Kris to him than his old self had ever been.
“Put on the stuff I left on the table for you,” Taylor instructed. “I’m going to have to lace you into these boots; they look amazing on your legs-that overrides the fact that they are a bitch to put on.”
Kris slipped on the necklaces and the fishnet gloves, and then bent down to assist Taylor in lacing up his boots. He normally went barefoot in the cage, but this was not just any normal show, and he felt like he needed to show off just a bit more than usual.
“I hope I do okay and not fall flat on my face or anything,” Kris shuddered. “I haven’t seen the cage that I’ll be performing in tonight, so I hope everything goes well.”
“Stop being such a worrywart, Krissifer,” Taylor said soothingly as he helped Kris into the feathered robe. “I know you’re anxious because you don’t want to disappoint anybody, but I bet you’re going to end up doing worse if you worry your head off the whole night. Whatever happens, I’m sure Adam’s going to want to pet your fluffy baby bird hair, anyway.”
“My hair is a godawful thing,” Kris chuckled. “It never stays in place.”
“It adds to the boy-next-door-but-dances-like-a-whore charm, though,” Taylor giggled. “Petting your hair is my favorite thing to do; Adam can have it for one night, though.”
“I love you,” Kris tipped Taylor’s chin up for a kiss. “With all my heart.”
Taylor sighed into his mouth, opening up immediately. Kris liked kissing his close friends; it was comfortable, and he thought no malice of the act. There was something soothing about the way Taylor licked into his mouth, keeping him grounded and easing his nerves.
“Thanks, babe,” Kris leaned his forehead against Taylor. “I needed that.”
“I know you did,” Taylor patted his cheek. “And since you’re all ready now, we should get going; Tommy might be grumpy all night if we end up late for the show.”
They returned to the living room to find Tommy, Torres and Charles conversing with three other men smartly dressed in black suits. Kris was amazed; Adam Lambert really was true to form.
“Kris, I’d like you to meet your added security for the night,” Tommy gestured for him to come over. “These are Michael Sarver, Anoop Desai and Matt-er, what was your last name again?”
“Giraud, sir,” the mouse-like man replied stiffly. “Matt Giraud.”
“Okay, whatever,” Tommy said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “But we have to go soon-chop chop; we’re wasting time by just standing here like a bunch of morons with no agenda. Lambert was kind enough to have us fetched via limousine, so I am less grumpy than I seem to be.”
“Is he really like that?” Kris heard the bodyguard named Sarver ask Charles.
“You bet, man,” Charles chortled. “But that tiny little thing is a well-oiled machine when it comes to work; he’s the one that keeps all our shit together. Without him, we’d be dead by now.”
“And by dead, we mean that seriously,” Taylor said solemnly. “Without Tommy, we wouldn’t have anything to eat or drink or play with.”
Kris giggled at the expression on their guests’ faces. Clearly, they had been underestimating Tommy due to his size and prettier-than-pretty face. His giggle, however, trailed off the moment he saw the sleek black limousine parked outside their apartment.
“So shiny!” Taylor exclaimed. “Are we really taking this to the show?”
“It sure seems like it, kid,” Torres nodded, sounding awed in spite of his normally cool demeanor. “We never get luxury rides to well…anything, really.”
Kris scrambled into the backseat with Tommy, Taylor and Adam’s bodyguards while Torres and Charles rode up front with the chauffeur. Sarver was really nice and Desai was hilarious, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit wary towards Giraud, who kept his shit-eating stare on Kris for the entire duration of the ride. Tommy seemed to notice this, though; he spent the trip glaring holes through Giraud’s head. Kris wanted to enjoy the ride-limo rides didn’t come very often in his life-but he couldn’t because Giraud was ruining everything for him with those creepy stares.
He’d popped out of the vehicle like a jack-in-the-box as soon as they arrived at Adam’s home, which was this huge, sprawling Hollywood mansion built on acres of land that Kris could easily get lost in.
“Babe, I know you’re fascinated, but we don’t have time to gawk right now,” Tommy ushered him towards the front door. “Lambert said he wants to meet you before the show, so we’re going to do that right now. He’s the one paying us tonight, so we have to do as he says.”
“…he wants to meet me?” Kris squeaked, flushing up to about five shades of red.
“That’s what Pittman’s SMS said,” Tommy shrugged, rapping on the door like an impatient person. “We have to stick to the rules if we want our ten thousand dollars tonight.”
“Oh, hey, guys,” Monte greeted them at the door. “I’m glad you could make it so early; Adam will be pleased to have a few minutes with you before the party begins.”
“Oh, we’ll just step out of the room after saying hi,” Charles chortled. “We all know that the only person he wants to spend time with is Kris. Don’t worry about TJ here, little man; we’ll hold him back while you take your dear, sweet time with Lambert.”
“One more word and I will have you scrubbing the kitchen floors for a year, Browder,” Tommy growled. “It is my primary responsibility to ensure that Kris walks home with his chastity intact.”
“Chillax, TJ,” Torres grinned. “You don’t want to be the evil stepmother instead of the fairy godmother now, do you?”
“Or maybe Kris is Belle, Lambert is the beast and Tommy is the evil enchantress!” Taylor beamed. “I’d say Tommy would be Maleficent, but Kris isn’t sleeping.”
“I do rather like the Disney villains,” Tommy smirked. “Except that they don’t use their brains very well because they’re beaten by ‘true love’ at the end.”
“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”
Kris felt his flush travel all the way down to the tips of his toes. He knew that voice far too well because he would jack off to it almost every night.
“Oooh, he looks like a glittery alien!” Taylor clapped his hands. “So cool.”
Kris stared unabashedly as Adam Lambert as the descended the marble staircase. The man was indeed, a glittery alien of some sort, clad in a pair of tight-fitting leather-like pants with a lace-up crotch, a black collared shirt unbuttoned all the way down to his stomach, a strange purple coat with fraying edges and a fur-trimmed collar, and clunky black platforms that upped his height about three extra inches. A feathered purple top hat rested jauntily upon his head, and numerous necklaces adorned the exposed skin on his chest. He was fully made-up that night, and his wide, Cupid’s bow mouth was curved up in a smirk.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” he greeted them cordially, moving around the large room to shake hands with each person. “I thank you all for accepting my invitation and being able to attend tonight’s affair. Rest assured that you will all be paid individually aside from the stipend I have extended to Mister Allen, and there will be food and drinks at your disposal tonight. I also reserved a table in front for Misters Ratliff and Green as requested.”
Kris scanned the room quickly, taking in the impressed look on the faces of all his friends-heck, even Tommy looked surprised. It was interesting and a little thrilling to know that Lambert had gone all out for their arrival; he had confirmed to every single one of Tommy’s demands.
“Ahhhh, the lovely Kristopher Allen,” Adam purred, bending to press a kiss to Kris’ hand. “It’s so good to finally meet you; the photographs do not do you justice.”
Kris staggered under Adam’s heated gaze, but Adam was quick enough to wrap his free arm around Kris’ waist, bearing his weight with ease.
“There we go; we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now, would we?”
Kris was having trouble concentrating on the goings-on in the real world when Adam was an intruder in his personal space. The only thing he was sane enough to do was to stare at Adam’s glossy lips as they moved, forming words that Kris couldn’t really understand at the moment.
“…I like giving my friends kisses as greetings.”
The words left his mouth in a rush, and Adam arched an eyebrow in surprise. As soon as Kris realized what he had just said, he squeezed his eyes shut, wanting nothing more than to crawl under the rug and die.
“Hmmmm,” he heard Adam say. “In that case…”
Kris’ eyes flew open as Adam jerked him forward by the waist, pulling their bodies flush against each other. Their gazes locked, and a small smile quirked at the corners of Adam’s mouth. He bent down and pressed his lips to Kris, eliciting a gasp of surprise.
What the fuck was going on?
Adam was working him like pro, mouth soft yet insistent upon his. He tasted faintly of cherries, which Kris assumed was from his lip gloss. Sighing dreamily, he went limp in Adam’s hold and surrendered to the kiss, nipping back softly as Adam had his dear, sweet way with his mouth. It seemed like centuries before Adam finally pulled away, licking his lips with a satisfied smack.
“And now, we are friends,” he said softly, releasing his hold on Kris. “I’ll see you after the show, my precious one; you will dance beautifully for me.”
Kris pressed a finger to his lips, feeling very much like a besotted girl that had been kissed for the very first time. Adam Lambert was indeed, the most alluring man he had ever met.
“…that Adam,” Monte sighed as soon as Adam was out of earshot. “He’s really way over the boundaries of propriety sometimes; are you alright, Kris?”
“Oh, he’s perfectly fine,” Torres cocked his head. “Knowing Kris, he enjoyed that very, very much.”
“I hope he didn’t suck your routine right out of your mouth, because you’re going onstage in ten minutes and I have to go check on the audio right now,” Tommy threw his hands up in the air. “Taylor, take care of him. Torres, Browder and everyone else, you know what to do.”
Kris sagged against Taylor, feeling utterly spent and powerless. If Adam Lambert had managed to steal part of his soul away with one kiss, he would take away everything Kris had to give after the show.
That was, if Kris would be able to make it there.
A Kradam Romance in Two Parts
Part One: Voodoo Night
By: Lady Michaelis
Pairing: Adam Lambert/Kris Allen (slight Tommy Ratliff/Kris Allen and Taylor Green/Kris Allen)
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Graphic sexual situations, cage dancing, foul language
Genre: Romance/Erotica/Humor
Summary: They were fools; Kris and Tommy-fools in great need of money.
Disclaimers: Kris Allen delights me to no end with his recent love of commando and short, tight shirts. Sadly, I do not lord over him; nor do I own Adam Lambert, for this matter.
Kris Allen liked to think of himself as the follow-your-instincts kind of guy. If there was something he hated, it was the feeling of having an itch he couldn’t scratch just because people expected him to behave accordingly and do what was expected of him. He’d done enough of that growing up; he wanted to start fulfilling his own dreams. Knowing full well that he would never be able to achieve self-actualization by staying in Conway, Kris had packed up his belonging to take a music course at the University of California, Los Angeles. His parents had been wary and his then-girlfriend had slammed her front door in his face, but Kris was well-aware of what he needed and wanted to do.
Freedom was not going to come crawling after him-he needed to chase after it.
“You ready, man?” a large, heavyset man poked his head into Kris’ dressing room. “Tommy says you’re on in three-this crowd doesn’t seem to like waiting.”
“I’ll be done in a minute, Charles,” Kris assured him, critically eyeing his reflection in the vanity mirror. “What do you think, Tay? Have I caked on enough body glitter for the night?”
“You look perfect,” Taylor Green said dreamily, dusting away the stray flecks of glittery shadow from underneath Kris’ eyes. “You’re going to be the most beautiful person in the room.”
“Thank you, love,” Kris murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to Taylor’s mouth. “Wish me luck?”
“You don’t need it,” Taylor shook his head, eyes bright with affection. “They’re going to love you, and we’re going to have enough money for cake tomorrow.”
“And you can get the biggest piece,” Kris smiled, allowing Taylor to slip his robe on. “Stay close to Tommy, alright? I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. I daresay Charles and Torres will be too busy keeping an eye out for me; god forbid Tommy cut their pay again. I think they lost about fifteen percent because someone touched me on their watch last week.”
“Tommy was saying something about sawing off customers’ hands the next time that happened,” Taylor said solemnly. “I don’t remember seeing him so angry before.”
“That’s because no one could ever get mad at you, sweetie,” Kris winked at him. “Now, come on-I have a show to perform. I’m wearing the lucky moo thong, so nothing bad is going to happen.”
“I like cows,” Taylor cocked his head. “I hope no one tries to steal it; I will be very angry.”
“I’ll escort Taylor to TJ’s table,” Chris Torres met them in the hallway. “Browder, you get Kris into the cage-remember, no funny stuff; I refuse to get into trouble with TJ.”
“Don’t worry, man,” Charles Browder grinned, setting his shotgun on safety mode. “I renewed my firearm license this week; no one’s going to want to get within a foot of this monster.”
“I don’t believe so,” Kris shook his head, laughing. “It’s almost half my size.”
“Hopefully, I won’t have to use it tonight,” Charles huffed, reaching out to unlock the cage door for Kris. “You sure you’ll be okay in there, buddy?”
“Charles, I’ve been doing this for almost three months now,” Kris smiled benignly as he stepped inside. “Don’t worry about me; I’ll be alright. God forbid it if Tommy actually let something happen.”
“Charles, might I have a moment alone with Kris?”
Tommy Joe Ratliff peeked in from behind the curtain, dressed to the nines in his usual evening attire of skintight black clothing and dark makeup. Mock-saluting them both, Charles slipped back out via the entrance Tommy had used, leaving them to their privy.
“Is everything okay?” Kris asked. “You don’t usually stop by before a show to give me a pep talk-not that I don’t want to hear from you or anything.”
“Everything’s perfect,” Tommy assured him. “I just want to give you a heads up about tonight’s crowd. Apparently, there are some talent scouts at the party tonight who are interested in this little endeavor of ours. You’ve become pretty famous in the past three months thanks to the exposure we were lucky enough to get. I don’t know if you’re willing to go mainstream, but it’s definitely going to bring in a lot of money. If you want to impress them, it’s entirely up to you.”
“What do you think?” Kris asked. “I know you’re not too keen on me doing this, but we both agreed that it’s the best way to rake in some cash. I wouldn’t mind doing this for as long as it takes.”
“And I know that a part of you really has to do this,” Tommy sighed. “Given how you grew up, I’m not surprised you’re craving the feel of cold metal against your skin and the sound of people about to orgasm at the mere mention of your name. Go out there and have a ball, Kris.”
“I love you,” Kris blew him a kiss. “Thank you for letting me do this.”
“Cue music in five seconds.”
Tommy pushed his aviators back into place and left as quietly as he came. Kris knew the routine perfectly well from there. As soon as Adam Lambert’s “Voodoo” came on, he was going to shrug off the robe and give his audience a show to remember.
Moonshine on the bayou
Love shrine break the taboo
I wanna know what’s in your potion
Bound by total devotion
He tossed his head back as the curtains parted, relishing in the combined sound of ecstatic screams from the audience and the trance-like beat of the song. “Voodoo” was his favorite song to gyrate to; there was just something about Adam Lambert’s voice that made Kris feel just a little braver up there. He’d had a massive crush on the man ever since he invaded MTV with his music video of “For Your Entertainment”, making Kris want to be one of those dancers writhing at Lambert’s feet.
It was only fair to deduce that Lambert had unleashed Kris Allen’s inner slut.
Winking at his audience of what seemed to be a hundred or so, he shimmied out of his silk robe and let it drop to the floor, exposing his nearly nude form. He heard several men whooping appreciatively as he pressed his backside against the cage, giving them a clear view of his toned, perfectly round ass. This was exactly why Kris thrived in such a seedy profession-the thrill it gave him was the most satisfying feeling in the world. Ironically, he felt freer when he was locked in a cage; it was his own little world, and he had the power to bring his audience to their knees.
I was lookin’ for love all over
You’re the hunter and I’m your prey
Now I’m lost in a love hangover
I try to leave, but I have to stay
Kris moaned lustfully as he palmed his crotch, allowing the high to possess him entirely. Oftentimes, he would allow his imagination to run wild whenever he danced; his perverted thoughts of Adam Lambert enjoyed spending too much time in his not-so-distant memory. Kris had countless wet dreams of the rockstar fucking him against a wall or pounding him into a mattress in some nondescript hotel room, and those fantasies just amped his performances up to a whole entire level. He could care less about the multitude of men reaching out for him and trying to get him to bare even more; all he needed was the imaginary feeling of Adam Lambert’s large hands on his body.
He allowed his eyes to roam the room for his companions. Charles and Torres were at their stations beneath the cage, unmoving and eternally vigilant. Kris had known them both forever; Charles was his best friend (and always would be) and Torres attended high school with him back in Conway. He had asked them to serve as his security force simply because he trusted them completely-they would never divulge his secrets and would never let anyone lay a finger on him. It had taken Charles awhile to connect with the idea of Kris getting into cages and dancing for the rambunctious, troublemaking LA crowd, but Kris had won him over in the end with a lot of help from Torres.
Taylor had kept true to his promise of sticking to the prescribed company. He was curled up on the plush divan next to Tommy; eyes alight with wonder and delight as he watched Kris perform. The young man was a stray kitten in their lives, but he was sweet and always eager to lend a hand. Kris had literally picked him off the streets about a month ago on his way home from a show. Taylor had been slightly stoned and smoking up a pack of cigarettes, but Kris could tell from the weary look in his eyes and the way his shoulders were hunched over in defeat that he was simply nothing more than a young boy who had run away from home. He had always been known to take home stray puppies and kittens, so no one had done as much as raised an eyebrow when Kris showed up at the doorstep with Taylor in tow. Eventually, he had proven himself to be quite a useful commodity, taking it as his duty to help Kris prepare for shows by picking out his outfits and doing his makeup.
He was also the sweetest person in the universe, and Kris and Tommy loved him like their own.
Cause it’s voodoo, voodoo, voodoo, voodoo
Under your spell
Cause it’s voodoo, voodoo, voodoo, voodoo
Under your spell
Of all the relationships in his circle, the one Kris had with Tommy was probably the most interesting and most tumultuous of all. They had met in UCLA; Kris had just set foot into the campus as a freshman, and Tommy was a senior beginning his last year in college. The two had bonded quickly after becoming classmates in the music elective course they had taken together, and had been inseparable ever since. Everything had been going smoothly until the night of an acquaintance party organized by one of their classmates. The party had been a cover-up for a fraternity hazing involving unprotected gay sex. To save their lives, Kris and Tommy had promised to pay a large sum of money in exchange for granting them escape. They had been given half a year to pay off the debt, leaving them with no option but to drop out of college and seek employment elsewhere.
They’d been expecting day jobs at a local Starbucks, though; not a career for Kris in cage dancing.
It had happened by accident. They had been invited to a friend’s open bar party one night, and Kris had ended up having one too many drinks. Going slightly over his preferred alcohol limit ended up with videos and pictures of him doing a Coyote Ugly on the bar as well as an offhand comment about how he would totally work the crowd if he got into cage dancing. Needless to say, Tommy had accompanied him to his very first audition, giving birth to the reputable cage dancer that Kris Allen was today.
Swamp sings of a love bizarre
Snake bites aligning stars
I’m in rapture, there is no cure
No sanctuary from your allure
It wasn’t a career that Kris was planning to keep, but he was sure of one thing-it gave him artistic freedom. He did not have the luxury of showing his true colors back home in Conway; Arkansas was a terrible place for the LGBT community, and Kris had no idea what could happen to him if he wasn’t careful. It had been difficult to have to rein all his emotion in, but he knew very well that he had to protect himself until the moment he set foot in LAX. Indeed, there was nothing noble about allowing himself to be the object of man’s desire in a cage, but the very idea of it had sewn itself around Kris like a second skin. This was who he was now, and he was determined to stay on as this confident, less vulnerable version of himself.
The bills were beginning to pile up on the cage floor, the very sight of them pleasing him greatly. He had caught sight of several hundred dollar bills in the mess, knowing full well that this was set out to be a great night. Hopefully, some of them were tips from the people Tommy had told him about; they could definitely use the extra cash. They weren’t hard up on money or anything-the debt was almost paid up, and they could afford a few luxuries every now and then-but Kris found an odd comfort in the stability of his finances. As long as his crew could live comfortably, he was happy.
Life didn’t need to become more complicated than what he had already made it into.
Cause the voodoo that you do is all that you can do
Make me into your fool
Cause when you do the voodoo
I’m just a doll that the pins keep pushing into
The bridge portion was always the highlight of his performances. He enjoyed giving the audience a bit more of what was appropriate; sliding his thong a little lower, revealing the jut of his hipbones and the top of his pert ass. Oftentimes, he’d even hang from the top of the cage (basic stripper classes and gymnastics had been a big, big help) and arch his back like a cat wanting to be petted, eliciting even more approval from his audience. This was when Charles and Torres moved forward to contain the crowd; even Tommy would get up from his seat and do his own version of crowd control, scowling and muttering obscenities whenever someone went too far. Fortunately, people knew they were in deep shit whenever Tommy would join Charles and Torres; he was undoubtedly the most terrible human being when angered.
Kris executed his famous upside down stunt, smirking mischievously as he tugged on Tommy’s thick mane of bleach blond hair. Chuckling softly, Tommy leaned in, letting Kris reach out from between the steel bars to stroke his face. He hummed pleasantly at the touch, sweeping his aviators off with one hand before pulling Kris in for a torrid, spontaneous kiss; their moans and pants swallowed whole by the hoots of approval and envy from the crowd.
Honestly, he should have done this before; it just egged the crowd on even more.
“I bet they’re all wishing they were me, puppy,” Tommy teased. “But yeah, that should get them to back off a little-carry on, love.”
So everytime I try to break this trance
Imma so afraid I’ll miss my chance to be bewitched, bothered by you
I just gotta say I want your hex; I don’t wanna live without your hex
I’m so obsessed with your sexiness
Kris loved it when Lambert hit the glory notes; it made him want to flip his shit in the best way possible. Seriously speaking, the man’s voice could bring him to orgasm at any given time of the day. It was rather embarrassing how many times he’d come just by jerking off to Lambert’s songs-Tommy and Taylor had walked in on him once or twice, even. If Marxist beliefs claimed that religion was the opiate of the masses, then Adam Lambert’s voice was definitely the Viagra in Kris Allen’s life. It was almost laughable how nothing could get him up the way Lambert’s voice could. He’d fooled around with some boys in college, but all those encounters had him apologizing and putting on his jacket before they could even get remotely sexual. Stupid Lambert and his stupid, sexy voice-nothing could really compare.
As soon as he’d righted himself again, Tommy was nowhere to be found. A quick look around the club let him know that Tommy had returned to his private table, conversing quietly with a tall, stocky man whose shock of dark hair reminded Kris of a pineapple. He couldn’t exactly read Tommy’s body language since his back was turned to Kris, but he could tell from the awed expression on Taylor’s face that it was something interesting. Of course, he wouldn’t be able to hear anything over the music and the screaming; he would just have to ask them about it after the show.
It just had to be good news; Kris enjoyed having his weekly dose of good news amidst the insanity.
He pressed himself against the bars again, blowing a kiss to the boys in the front row. He felt he was quite a pornographic sight to behold now; naked, glittering skin glistening with sweat under the dim club lighting. Even after almost three months of doing this, it still surprised him how sexed out he looked whenever he watched his performances on video. If anyone from Conway ever managed to get their hands on a copy, they would probably die of shock at the fact that their precious, perfect Kristopher spent his nights giving men erections by dancing naked in a cage with his butt hanging out.
Sometimes, he just felt like laughing at the idea. There was nothing remotely funny about being on the receiving end of a lecture from his parents or being excommunicated from New Life-not that he didn’t want to; New Life folk were harsh on the gay lifestyle-but Kris was a living, breathing irony.
Pushing all thoughts and worries from his head, he threw his head back and arched against the steel bars like a stretching leopard, licking a long wet stripe up his palm before rubbing it on his clothed cock, signaling the end of his show. The deafening cheers filled his ears when the last notes of the song died away, allowing him to bask and revel in the rawness of the night.
“Thank you for coming, everyone,” he said demurely, tucking some of the bills into the waistband of his thong before motioning for Charles and Torres to begin gathering up the rest. “I had a great time tonight; hopefully, I’ll see you again soon.”
Cause it’s voodoo, voodoo, voodoo, voodoo
Under your spell
Cause it’s voodoo, voodoo, voodoo, voodoo
Under your spell
I’m so obsessed with your sexiness
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“No plaid tonight, Krissifer,” Taylor said tartly, practically shoving the skintight, wine red long-sleeved shirt over Kris’ head. “Tommy said you have an important meeting coming up, so you can’t go back out there in your grungy day attire.”
“You mean we’re still not done pleasing people?” Kris sighed, allowing Taylor to dust some glitter powder across his cheekbones. “Even I have pleasantry limits when I’m exhausted.”
“Tommy will do most of the talking, anyway,” Taylor shrugged, pressing his lips to Kris’ cheek. “All you have to do is sit there and look pretty-it always works.”
“You should come along,” Kris suggested. “Charles and Torres, too. If this is as big as Tommy is making it out to be, I’d like for everyone to hear the news.”
He followed Taylor into one of the private smoking rooms, frowning slightly at the prospect of having to endure second-hand smoking for an hour or so. He didn’t really mind taking in a whiff of the nasty shit out on the streets-he lived in LA, after all-but being forced to inhale it in a closed space was sheer torture.
The setup didn’t look strange at all. Tommy was sitting by his lonesome on a sofa across two other gentlemen-one being the pineapple-haired man from earlier and the other, Brad Bell, a frequent partygoer and a good friend of Kris’ little family.
“Hello, petal,” Brad greeted him saucily, rising to give him a little peck on the forehead. “You look as lovely as ever; I hate how Tommy’s been keeping you away from me. By the way, I only reserved this area so we could have some privacy-no one’s going to smoke, I swear. ”
“Alright, everyone take a seat,” Tommy ordered. “I want to go straight to the point here so Kris will have time to weigh his decision later on.”
Decision? Kris had gone from curious to wary in five seconds flat. What was this, anyway?
“First, a round of introductions,” Tommy said briskly. “Kris, this is Monte Pittman, Adam Lambert’s lead guitarist and head musician. Monte, this is Kris Allen, the man of the hour. These are Charles Browder and Chris Torres; they serve as Kris’ security. This little fellow right here is Taylor Green, Kris’ PA.”
“How do you do, everyone?” Monte asked cordially, rising for a quick round of handshakes. “And Kris-it’s good to finally meet you. I hope you’re faring well nowadays.”
“Erm, I’m doing okay, I guess,” Kris responded, still unable to wipe the puzzled look off his face. “I’ve, uhm, seen you perform onstage with Adam Lambert; you’re, uh, really talented.”
“Thank you,” Monte said graciously. “But I’m sure you’re wondering what the hell I’m doing here.”
Kris nodded, trying not to look too enthusiastic. Thank god this guy was decent enough to state the obvious; having to say the words himself would be quite an embarrassment on Kris’ part.
“Adam sent me, actually,” Monte explained. “He heard of you from Brad and some of his friends who had chanced upon your performances in the past, and wants to hire you for the launch party of his second album. I’ve already gone over the fees with Tommy here; Adam wants to book you for the night in exchange for ten thousand dollars. In case something inappropriate happens, he’s willing to throw in an extra three thousand for just compensation.”
Kris stared. The highest he had ever been paid per show was about a thousand-he had not been expecting such an offer. No wonder Tommy was being so anal about it.
“Finance-wise, it’d be good for us,” Tommy piped up. “But as always, we leave the final decision to you. It’s not about how much money we make, but how you feel about the job.”
“I’ll do it.”
He was tempted to laugh at the looks of shock on his companions’ faces; clearly, no one had been expecting him to agree so quickly. Maybe they had forgotten that Kris was quite the hardcore Adam Lambert fan-not hardcore enough to be considered crazy, but hardcore nonetheless.
“…you think we can get him to sign one of your thongs?” Taylor broke the silence.
“Oh, Adam will scrawl his signature all over Kris’ bouncy tushy if he could,” Brad cackled. “He’ll be happy to know you agreed; I’ll probably get a shopping spree tomorrow.”
“We do have certain rules, though,” Tommy was quick to steer the conversation back to business matters. “First of all, no one is allowed to touch Kris while he’s performing. Given the kind of crowd that may be in attendance, I’d like to request for extra security just to be sure things stay under control. Also, once the performance is over, it’s over. No asking Kris for private stripteases when he’s out of that cage and fully clothed once again. And if this gets on TMZ, I am going to kill every person at that party. Is this clear?”
“It sounds rather terrifying, but I think Adam can handle that,” Monte said with a chuckle. “At least peck him on the cheek in congratulations, Kris; he’d probably pout and whine all night if he doesn’t get that.”
“He gets his hands into Kris’ thong, and I will sock him,” Tommy intoned humorlessly. “But if we can reach a consensus on everything else, I think we’ve reached an agreement.”
“Thank you,” Monte looked relieved. “I’m sure Adam will be pleased. The party will take place this Friday, six o’clock, at Adam’s mansion. He wants Kris as an opening act, so you guys should be there early.”
“Done and done,” Tommy jotted the information down in his notebook. “Thank you for the opportunity; as long as none of the items in my mental contract will be breached, everything will go well.”
“Tommy Joe is terrible, but he means well,” Brad smirked. “It’s in everyone’s best interests to ensure Krissy is under maximum protection at all times.”
“I can take care of myself!” Kris said hotly. “I’m not that unreliable.”
“You are when a hot guy approaches you after a performance,” Charles rolled his eyes. “How many times have I had to haul you away to safety because you allowed some stranger to get too personal?”
“They’re only being friendly!” Kris protested. “And I don’t want to look impolite or anything.”
“Impolite my ass,” Tommy scowled. “He was sticking his hand into your jeans!”
“Adam’s obsessed with you, so he’s going to be the only person who’s actually going to stick a hand into your pants,” Monte grinned. “He’s a jealous bastard; he’ll provide you the best security possible-though I can’t promise you’re going to remain a virgin by the end of the night.”
Kris felt a furious blush creep up his cheeks. Adam Lambert was obsessed with him? Which parallel universe was this and where was the sign-up sheet for it?
“…oh crap.”
“What’s wrong, petal?” Brad arched an eyebrow. “You look like your mother just walked into the room while you were jacking off to Brent Corrigan’s Schoolboy Crush.”
“I just realized that I have less than a week to come up with a new routine!” Kris shot to his feet, face drained of all color. “I cannot believe this!”
“What for?” Taylor looked genuinely puzzled. “People really dig this one.”
“Kiddo, he usually dances to an Adam Lambert song,” Torres said patiently. “Knowing Kris, he’ll be too embarrassed to perform to the beat of an erotic song at the launch party of the said artist.”
Tommy sighed. “I’ll fit rehearsals into the schedule somehow. If a single nine-to-five schedule is the only way we’ll manage to hash a new dance routine together, then no one is allowed to complain.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was amazing how sheer agony could cause time to travel faster. Thanks to the countless dance rehearsals and shopping trips for new costumes, the week had flown by quickly for Kris. Agonizing wasn’t too good for his health, though; he had woken up that morning with an upset stomach that Taylor had to soothe with cups of chamomile tea and constant cuddling.
That was honestly the worst case of stomach butterflies he’d ever had.
“Can someone please tell me why the apartment is drowning in an ocean of thongs?” Tommy asked, picking a few sequined numbers off the floor and tossing them to Kris. “Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind over what to wear to Lambert’s party again.”
“He’s been at it all day,” Taylor giggled. “He normally doesn’t care about what he wears, but he’s been behaving like a girl on her period when he found out that the purple silk thong we picked out yesterday is now too loose on him because he lost weight due to constant rehearsing.”
“Is it my fault that I want to impress him?” Kris mumbled. “He’s a celebrity, guys-a really big one at that. I need to put on something that’s actually going to impress the ruler of the glam universe.”
“Wow, Kris Allen is actually trying to impress someone,” Tommy raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got it bad for this guy, don’t you? I’m amazed you were able to choreograph a routine to a Lady Gaga number when “Voodoo” is like, your national cage dancing anthem or something.”
“Okay, so I’m a fan of his work,” Kris flailed, throwing his hands up in the air. “My having to dance for Adam Lambert is like Britney Spears having to sing a Madonna song. If he feels that he’s not getting his money’s worth, I am going to drown myself in some remote lake area out there.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Tommy scolded, handing him a glittery blue thong. “Here, I think this will work; the man is rather fond of colors in the blue spectrum.”
“And you can match that with the feathery black robe that came in the mail last week!” Taylor‘s eyes lit up. “Pair everything with lots of jewelry and those wicked lace-up hooker boots, and you are good to go. Adam Lambert is going to love you, Kris; you might even get lucky tonight.”
Kris groaned and buried his face into the throw pillow. How could he even get himself excited at the prospect of getting laid when he was too busy being nervous about his performance?
“Babe, you have to chill the fuck out,” Tommy leaned in to kiss the top of his head. “Nothing good is going to come out of you agonizing over every little thing. Now, let’s get you changed and into hair and makeup so we can stay on schedule. We’ll stop for Chick-Fil-A on the way if it’ll make you feel better.”
“…okay,” Kris peered up at Tommy from the top of the pillow.
“That’s my baby,” Tommy smiled. “Taylor, go and make him into the star that he is; I’ve got to run some things by the extra security that Lambert so kindly provided us, but I’ll be back to check on you later.”
Kris gave Tommy a quick peck on the lips before leaving the comfort of the sofa to follow Taylor into their makeshift dressing room, already feeling better about the whole damned situation. He should treat this just like any other performance; he just needed to add a few extra hip rolls for Adam Lambert’s satisfaction.
“Are you sure the straps on this thing won’t like, snap in half?” he asked jokingly as he slipped out of his daytime attire. “I’ve never worn anything with straps this thin in my life.”
“I don’t think they will,” Taylor laughed, giving the thong straps a few good tugs before handing them over to Kris. “Skin.Graft makes pretty durable stuff, so I don’t think you’re going to have any accidents; Cassidy made sure of that when Tommy ordered your first batch of customized thongs.”
“I rather like them, though,” Kris grinned, wiggling his ass a little to get a better feel of the garment. “They’re comfortable and they don’t bunch up in front.”
“You’re pretty,” Taylor shot him a lopsided grin. “But you’re pretty even in plaid.”
“I’d never look this good without your help, Tay,” Kris shook his head. “Because deep inside, I’m always going to be this nondescript plaid person with his head in the clouds all the time.”
“You’re shiny in your own special way, Krissifer.”
Kris knew the routine well by now. Taylor would work on his face first-foundation, concealer, glittery eyeshadow in three shades, eyeliner, mascara and lipgloss. Afterwards, he would rub Kris all over with lotion and drizzle glitter powder all over him. He always ended up looking like some sort of celestial being afterward-a far cry from his plaid in the daytime-but he enjoyed embracing this other Kris. In a way, other Kris felt more like the real Kris to him than his old self had ever been.
“Put on the stuff I left on the table for you,” Taylor instructed. “I’m going to have to lace you into these boots; they look amazing on your legs-that overrides the fact that they are a bitch to put on.”
Kris slipped on the necklaces and the fishnet gloves, and then bent down to assist Taylor in lacing up his boots. He normally went barefoot in the cage, but this was not just any normal show, and he felt like he needed to show off just a bit more than usual.
“I hope I do okay and not fall flat on my face or anything,” Kris shuddered. “I haven’t seen the cage that I’ll be performing in tonight, so I hope everything goes well.”
“Stop being such a worrywart, Krissifer,” Taylor said soothingly as he helped Kris into the feathered robe. “I know you’re anxious because you don’t want to disappoint anybody, but I bet you’re going to end up doing worse if you worry your head off the whole night. Whatever happens, I’m sure Adam’s going to want to pet your fluffy baby bird hair, anyway.”
“My hair is a godawful thing,” Kris chuckled. “It never stays in place.”
“It adds to the boy-next-door-but-dances-like-a-whore charm, though,” Taylor giggled. “Petting your hair is my favorite thing to do; Adam can have it for one night, though.”
“I love you,” Kris tipped Taylor’s chin up for a kiss. “With all my heart.”
Taylor sighed into his mouth, opening up immediately. Kris liked kissing his close friends; it was comfortable, and he thought no malice of the act. There was something soothing about the way Taylor licked into his mouth, keeping him grounded and easing his nerves.
“Thanks, babe,” Kris leaned his forehead against Taylor. “I needed that.”
“I know you did,” Taylor patted his cheek. “And since you’re all ready now, we should get going; Tommy might be grumpy all night if we end up late for the show.”
They returned to the living room to find Tommy, Torres and Charles conversing with three other men smartly dressed in black suits. Kris was amazed; Adam Lambert really was true to form.
“Kris, I’d like you to meet your added security for the night,” Tommy gestured for him to come over. “These are Michael Sarver, Anoop Desai and Matt-er, what was your last name again?”
“Giraud, sir,” the mouse-like man replied stiffly. “Matt Giraud.”
“Okay, whatever,” Tommy said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “But we have to go soon-chop chop; we’re wasting time by just standing here like a bunch of morons with no agenda. Lambert was kind enough to have us fetched via limousine, so I am less grumpy than I seem to be.”
“Is he really like that?” Kris heard the bodyguard named Sarver ask Charles.
“You bet, man,” Charles chortled. “But that tiny little thing is a well-oiled machine when it comes to work; he’s the one that keeps all our shit together. Without him, we’d be dead by now.”
“And by dead, we mean that seriously,” Taylor said solemnly. “Without Tommy, we wouldn’t have anything to eat or drink or play with.”
Kris giggled at the expression on their guests’ faces. Clearly, they had been underestimating Tommy due to his size and prettier-than-pretty face. His giggle, however, trailed off the moment he saw the sleek black limousine parked outside their apartment.
“So shiny!” Taylor exclaimed. “Are we really taking this to the show?”
“It sure seems like it, kid,” Torres nodded, sounding awed in spite of his normally cool demeanor. “We never get luxury rides to well…anything, really.”
Kris scrambled into the backseat with Tommy, Taylor and Adam’s bodyguards while Torres and Charles rode up front with the chauffeur. Sarver was really nice and Desai was hilarious, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit wary towards Giraud, who kept his shit-eating stare on Kris for the entire duration of the ride. Tommy seemed to notice this, though; he spent the trip glaring holes through Giraud’s head. Kris wanted to enjoy the ride-limo rides didn’t come very often in his life-but he couldn’t because Giraud was ruining everything for him with those creepy stares.
He’d popped out of the vehicle like a jack-in-the-box as soon as they arrived at Adam’s home, which was this huge, sprawling Hollywood mansion built on acres of land that Kris could easily get lost in.
“Babe, I know you’re fascinated, but we don’t have time to gawk right now,” Tommy ushered him towards the front door. “Lambert said he wants to meet you before the show, so we’re going to do that right now. He’s the one paying us tonight, so we have to do as he says.”
“…he wants to meet me?” Kris squeaked, flushing up to about five shades of red.
“That’s what Pittman’s SMS said,” Tommy shrugged, rapping on the door like an impatient person. “We have to stick to the rules if we want our ten thousand dollars tonight.”
“Oh, hey, guys,” Monte greeted them at the door. “I’m glad you could make it so early; Adam will be pleased to have a few minutes with you before the party begins.”
“Oh, we’ll just step out of the room after saying hi,” Charles chortled. “We all know that the only person he wants to spend time with is Kris. Don’t worry about TJ here, little man; we’ll hold him back while you take your dear, sweet time with Lambert.”
“One more word and I will have you scrubbing the kitchen floors for a year, Browder,” Tommy growled. “It is my primary responsibility to ensure that Kris walks home with his chastity intact.”
“Chillax, TJ,” Torres grinned. “You don’t want to be the evil stepmother instead of the fairy godmother now, do you?”
“Or maybe Kris is Belle, Lambert is the beast and Tommy is the evil enchantress!” Taylor beamed. “I’d say Tommy would be Maleficent, but Kris isn’t sleeping.”
“I do rather like the Disney villains,” Tommy smirked. “Except that they don’t use their brains very well because they’re beaten by ‘true love’ at the end.”
“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”
Kris felt his flush travel all the way down to the tips of his toes. He knew that voice far too well because he would jack off to it almost every night.
“Oooh, he looks like a glittery alien!” Taylor clapped his hands. “So cool.”
Kris stared unabashedly as Adam Lambert as the descended the marble staircase. The man was indeed, a glittery alien of some sort, clad in a pair of tight-fitting leather-like pants with a lace-up crotch, a black collared shirt unbuttoned all the way down to his stomach, a strange purple coat with fraying edges and a fur-trimmed collar, and clunky black platforms that upped his height about three extra inches. A feathered purple top hat rested jauntily upon his head, and numerous necklaces adorned the exposed skin on his chest. He was fully made-up that night, and his wide, Cupid’s bow mouth was curved up in a smirk.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” he greeted them cordially, moving around the large room to shake hands with each person. “I thank you all for accepting my invitation and being able to attend tonight’s affair. Rest assured that you will all be paid individually aside from the stipend I have extended to Mister Allen, and there will be food and drinks at your disposal tonight. I also reserved a table in front for Misters Ratliff and Green as requested.”
Kris scanned the room quickly, taking in the impressed look on the faces of all his friends-heck, even Tommy looked surprised. It was interesting and a little thrilling to know that Lambert had gone all out for their arrival; he had confirmed to every single one of Tommy’s demands.
“Ahhhh, the lovely Kristopher Allen,” Adam purred, bending to press a kiss to Kris’ hand. “It’s so good to finally meet you; the photographs do not do you justice.”
Kris staggered under Adam’s heated gaze, but Adam was quick enough to wrap his free arm around Kris’ waist, bearing his weight with ease.
“There we go; we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now, would we?”
Kris was having trouble concentrating on the goings-on in the real world when Adam was an intruder in his personal space. The only thing he was sane enough to do was to stare at Adam’s glossy lips as they moved, forming words that Kris couldn’t really understand at the moment.
“…I like giving my friends kisses as greetings.”
The words left his mouth in a rush, and Adam arched an eyebrow in surprise. As soon as Kris realized what he had just said, he squeezed his eyes shut, wanting nothing more than to crawl under the rug and die.
“Hmmmm,” he heard Adam say. “In that case…”
Kris’ eyes flew open as Adam jerked him forward by the waist, pulling their bodies flush against each other. Their gazes locked, and a small smile quirked at the corners of Adam’s mouth. He bent down and pressed his lips to Kris, eliciting a gasp of surprise.
What the fuck was going on?
Adam was working him like pro, mouth soft yet insistent upon his. He tasted faintly of cherries, which Kris assumed was from his lip gloss. Sighing dreamily, he went limp in Adam’s hold and surrendered to the kiss, nipping back softly as Adam had his dear, sweet way with his mouth. It seemed like centuries before Adam finally pulled away, licking his lips with a satisfied smack.
“And now, we are friends,” he said softly, releasing his hold on Kris. “I’ll see you after the show, my precious one; you will dance beautifully for me.”
Kris pressed a finger to his lips, feeling very much like a besotted girl that had been kissed for the very first time. Adam Lambert was indeed, the most alluring man he had ever met.
“…that Adam,” Monte sighed as soon as Adam was out of earshot. “He’s really way over the boundaries of propriety sometimes; are you alright, Kris?”
“Oh, he’s perfectly fine,” Torres cocked his head. “Knowing Kris, he enjoyed that very, very much.”
“I hope he didn’t suck your routine right out of your mouth, because you’re going onstage in ten minutes and I have to go check on the audio right now,” Tommy threw his hands up in the air. “Taylor, take care of him. Torres, Browder and everyone else, you know what to do.”
Kris sagged against Taylor, feeling utterly spent and powerless. If Adam Lambert had managed to steal part of his soul away with one kiss, he would take away everything Kris had to give after the show.
That was, if Kris would be able to make it there.