FIC: They Come in Threes - Part 2/2 (American Idol/Merlin crossover, Kris/Adam, R)
Part 1/2
Even before he opened his eyes, Adam could feel the sunlight spilling bright and welcoming into the room through the drapes he'd forgotten to close. He curled into the warm body nestled comfortably against his back, feeling all of yesterday's tension evaporate from his body; safe and relaxed like he couldn't remember being for a long time. The arm thrown across his chest tightened its hold briefly, and Adam smiled at the soft puff of breath against his neck, the faint scratch of stubble and-
-oh shit-
-the lazy, mumbled, familiar, "Morning."
Adam's eyes flew open. He counted to ten, breathing steadily; really, he didn't know whether the bigger tragedy was that he'd slept with Kris and it wasn't even real, or that he'd slept with Kris and he couldn't even remember it. Collecting the tattered remnants of his cool, Adam disentangled himself from the arm around his chest-most emphatically did not have any impure thoughts when guitar-calloused fingertips brushed his skin-and got out of bed. Kris let out an unhappy little noise, trying to cling to Adam for a second longer, but Adam forcibly ignored him, slipping into a pair of briefs and jeans from the closet before daring to turn around and look at his bed.
Adam never would have imagined that when confronted with the sight of Kris Allen in his bed for the first time, his attention would not be caught by the way the white sheets tangled in Kris's legs; nor by the smooth, muscled expanse of Kris's back, dipping delicately and disappearing beneath the sheets; nor by the way his hair was all sticking-up and quirky and possibly actually alive; not even by the sleepy, almost drugged smile he was wearing in the morning light.
Well, okay, Adam did spare a moment to assess what, in exact detail, he would be missing for the rest of his life. But in the end, all of that took second place to the fucking goatee.
"Dude," Kris said, blinking. "You look different."
Adam wasn't a fan of gawking, but he was man enough to admit there was no other way to put it. "I'm sorry, I look different?"
Kris pulled the sheets up to better wrap them around his waist, which was a relief, one hundred percent a relief, and absolutely did not involve Adam sadfacing inside. "Your hair-" Kris started, and Adam pretty much sprinted to the closet mirror because god, what if something happened to his hair? "-it's, there's no red."
"…Yes," he said, because it was easier to focus on the small things, and thank god, he looked okay. He turned to Kris, still clutching his hair protectively. "That's the purpose of the black dye."
"No, I mean those red streaks, like Allison. But hey, if you wanna go back to black," he leaned back on his elbows, smile sly and inviting, "I like it either way."
Adam could barely even remember what he could possibly have told Merlin last night that would lead to this, but a thought was beginning to form in his head. It made sense, in a way. Maybe.
"I would like to say, for the record, that I have no idea what is actually going on here," Adam stated. "That said, I think I know what's going on."
"Is this a game?" Kris said. "Because you have to warn me about those, you know I suck at improvising."
Adam ignored him. "You're in my bed," Adam said, ticking off on his fingers.
"That is correct, sir."
"And your hair is shorter," Adam continued. "Barely, but I know hair. Also, your toenails are painted green. I don't know what that's about."
"Dude, believe me, I don't either-you were the one who painted them-"
"-But most importantly, you have a goatee."
Kris fell back on the pillows. "I told you, it's not a goatee! It's a refined stubble… thing. Cale said it was Johnny Deppish," Kris added unconvincingly, and then took in Adam's flat expression and sighed, resigned, like they'd already fought this battle a million times. "Okay, you know what, fine. I'll shave it. Happy?"
"Ha," Adam said, not laughing, "No. Because clearly," he said, finally reaching the inescapable conclusion, "you aren't really Kris. You are evil Kris from another dimension."
It was so obvious. Adam still wasn't sure how this fulfilled his clusterfuck of a wish in any way, but come on. Kris had a goatee. QE fucking D.
Kris didn't even pause-no dramatic confessions, no two-faced denials, no grudging respect for Adam's rapid deduction skills-just a slightly dubious expression as he sat up fully this time, and said, "Are we doing Star Trek? Because I think I have those ears Zach Quinto gave me lying around somewhere, but I'll have to go back to my old place-" Kris started to get up, still, thank god, wrapped in the sheet, like a small perfect toga-clad philosopher. A philosopher of Satan, maybe. Who knew where Merlin had dredged this guy from, really.
"Leave it," Adam said tiredly. "Look, I'm going to go get Merlin to get us out of this mess. Don't do anything evil while I'm gone."
"Adam, what the-" Kris said, and oh, that was adorable, he wasn't even cursing. "Are you mad or something? Hey, come on," he said, grabbing Adam's hand, sliding his thumb across Adam's wrist soothingly, and Adam couldn't help but lean towards him a little. "Look, seriously, I'll shave it off if it's bothering you that much. Cale was probably lying to make himself look better anyway." Kris brought Adam's palm to his lips, and-god, even if he was evil, maybe-it's not like it was really Kris anyway-
"Okay, this is really weird," Kris said, moving Adam's hand away to look at his wrist closely. "The purple line from your tattoo is gone. I don't think that's supposed to happen."
Adam froze. He'd been thinking about getting an extra outline below the Eye of Horus, because there was no reason his tattoo shouldn't have awesome eyeliner; he'd even talked dates with Danielle, maybe getting it for his birthday-a new year, something symbolic. He had definitely never told Kris this. A new idea began to tug at the back of his mind-that maybe, maybe, it wasn't that Kris was evil per se, but that he was something entirely-unbelievably-different.
"So hey," Kris said, and he and Adam had always had an uncanny way of sharing thoughts, so Adam wasn't really surprised to hear him say: "What year is this, anyway?"
"2009," Adam replied warily, but then turned on the TV, hitting mute, just to make sure he was right. The date blinked back at him from the top left corner of the screen; he was.
"Huh," Kris said, in the sort of tone that one would use to say, Huh, the Times changed their crossword puzzle font to Arial, or Huh, we're out of applesauce. It was definitely not the tone Adam would use to say Huh, I'm not in the year I thought I was, but then, Adam's name clearly wasn't Kris Allen, Mr. Unflappable 2009. Or thereabouts. "I'm from 2012. So, that makes sense."
"Of course it does," Adam said dryly, and then sat down limply on the bed because Jesus fucking Christ, his life. Maybe he should just give up and accept his fate as one forever doomed to have some kind of screwed up and magically-screwed-with relationship with Kris. Kris sat down next to him. "In the interest of full disclosure," Adam said, rubbing his forehead, "I should tell you that you're here because I found a genie named Merlin and I can't keep my mouth shut."
"Whoa." Kris blinked. "Okay, that is freaky." He added, "I already knew the second bit."
Adam snorted, and then felt Kris's hand on his back, rubbing gently, like he was scared Adam was going to run away or something. "Anyway," Adam said, "sorry for taking you out of your life. I'll get you back, I promise."
"I know you will," Kris said, absolute faith in his voice, which made Adam's heart ache a little. He could feel Kris move, shifting so that he was on his knees behind Adam, hands moving up towards Adam's shoulders, and suddenly Adam was very aware of the fact that the only things separating them were Adam's jeans and the thin sheet spread across Kris's lap, which, god, they really needed to cover Kris up with something that didn't make Adam want to lean back and pull Kris down to-actually, at this point there probably wasn't much they could do about the wanting. Adam could fucking control himself anyway.
Enough, at least, to ask, "So how's Katy in 2012?"
Kris chuckled softly behind him. "She's good. She's, you know, working, and she's started seeing that guy from Teme-oh wait, I don't think they've even started filming that yet, you won't know who I'm talking about."
"So you're-separated?" he asked neutrally.
"Divorced." The finality of the word made Adam's heart start to hammer in his chest. Kris kept kneading his shoulders, strong and good and totally unbothered by the conversation. "Almost two years now."
Adam could see how that might unfold: Kris, infatuated under Merlin's spell, relentless in pursuing Adam because it was magic and it wasn't like not like he could help it; Katy, unable to stand it anymore and finally leaving, and Adam swooping in to reap the spoils-spoils, because talk about objectification, but that's exactly what Kris would be at that point. And Adam would have won a whole damn life based on a lie.
He felt Kris's heat against his back, Kris leaning forward until they were pressed together; Kris wrapped his arms around him, hair and stubble tickling Adam's cheek, the corner of his eye. "Adam," Kris said, "relax," and Adam didn't think he could do this, or at least he knew that he shouldn't do this, but when Kris licked into his ear he still shivered with a sigh and maybe a moan, because in spite of all the bullshit here, that was still a very real hard-on pressed against his back. Maybe he could-just once, with a Kris who wasn't even real, just to know what it felt like before losing the possibility forever-Adam twisted his head so he could meet Kris's lips, and Kris smiled against his mouth, "That's more like it," one hand cradling Adam's neck and jaw and pulling him in closer, drinking him in, shifting again so he could pretty much climb on top of Adam-
"What the heck," Kris said from the doorway-Kris in blue jeans and yellow plaid, holding a guitar in his left hand and nearly giving Adam a heart attack. He tilted his head to the side, studying Adam and future Kris. "Whoa." He blinked. "Okay, that is freaky."
"Um," Adam said, feeling kind of fucking horrible, and he practically had no shame, ever. "So, you remember I told you about a spell yesterday?"
"Yes."
"It was all true."
"I am beginning to realize that," Kris said, still staring at future-Kris. "Huh."
Thankfully, future-Kris was already climbing back off of Adam without Adam having to, like, throw him off, and suddenly Adam remembered that Kris's presence in his bedroom-let alone Kris's presences-wasn't exactly something he should be taking for granted. "What are you even doing here?"
"Remember I told you about a sneak seduction yesterday?" He raised his guitar up for display, looking a little embarrassed. "Tada."
"Nice, man," future-Kris said with approval. "He loves it when you play him stuff."
Real Kris flushed. "Cool, man. Thanks. Uh-I'm Kris, by the way."
"Likewise," future-Kris said, and wow, they were truly fascinating to watch. It was like they were both going for gold in the Nonchalance Olympics. "I'm from 2012."
Real Kris's eyes widened for a split-second. "Oh, wow. Is-"
"No," future-Kris said.
"Cool," said real Kris, and then they were both grinning at one another, and Adam was pretty sure he'd just missed a really dorky joke about the apocalypse but they could just as easily have been talking about the Arkansas Somethings' ten year winning streak, or losing streak, or who the fuck knew, really.
"And you and Adam-" real Kris asked.
Future-Kris smirked. "Oh, yeah."
"And you and Katy-" Future-Kris shook his head. "Yeah," real Kris said. "I figured."
"This," Adam said, talking mostly to himself, because obviously the Krises were enjoying catching up with one another and were possibly on the path to opening their own morning talk show, "is so much more surreal than acid-tripping at Burning Man, I don't even have the words for it."
Future-Kris and real Kris exchanged a long look, and suddenly two alarmingly interested gazes were being directed at Adam. "You know," future-Kris said, "Having both of us here doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing." He slunk forward to the front of the bed-how did he keep that sheet from falling off? He obviously got a lot of practice at this kind of thing in the future-and lounged there lazily, trailing a finger across his own chest like a fucking porn star, Christ. "Kris," he said in a low, sexy voice, "I can teach you a few things about Adam, if you want."
Adam's mouth went suddenly dry. So, apparently, did Kris's; he swallowed, then licked his lips, tiny pink tongue darting out between his teeth; he bit down on it, drew in a slow breath, and said, "Kind of a lot, yes." His voice was slightly uneven.
"Awesome," future-Kris said, and reached out to pull Adam in towards the bed, which was really harder to resist that he'd have thought-maybe Adam needed to buy rugs with more friction or something. And future-Kris had this amused, wicked look in his eye, the one that Adam always knew sex would bring out in him; he looked like he could see right through Adam, knew all his tells and all his secrets, knew that he singlehandedly held the one key that could unlock Adam completely.
Real Kris looked like he wanted to own that key more than anything in the entire fucking world.
Adam took in a shuddering breath. "Shit," he said, and then spun around and marched out of the room.
Last night, Merlin had migrated from his bottle of mineral water to the slightly more spacious, delicate Italian fiasco; which, Adam thought, was all too appropriate a name, considering.
Adam tried rubbing the bottle, then opening it and yelling Merlin's name inside. Nothing happened. He really hoped he wouldn't have to drink all the way down to the bottom for this to work, although frankly, it's not like he wasn't up for it at the moment. At least yelling into a bottle was giving his dick some time to cool off, because seriously. Resisting the advances of three Krises within twenty four hours was, Adam was pretty sure, included in the Geneva Convention as an official form of torture.
"Finally!" he said, when Merlin finally showed up, swirly smoke-like substance resolving itself into the same unfortunately-clothed wizard. "Where the hell were you?"
"Have you even considered the possibility that I was out saving your life, you arrogant, self-centered prat?"
Adam was so surprised by Merlin's vehemence that he took a step back. "Were you?"
Merlin signed mournfully. "No, but I've been wanting to say that for the longest time. Sorry, I was washing my hair."
"In my Chianti?"
Merlin rolled his eyes. "Not quite that literally. I am magic, you know."
"Oh, I've noticed." Adam's eyes narrowed. "Listen, I'm going to make my last wish nice and clear, just so we don't have any more miscommunication here. I am hereby officially un-wishing my previous two wishes. I just want you to take us back to before it all happened."
Merlin wrung his hands together, twiddling his kerchief for a moment. "All right, to take you back to before this all happened," he repeated. "You're sure?"
"Yes."
Merlin lifted his eyebrows. "All right, then-" and then his eyes flashed yellow-
-and then the whole world flashed yellow-
-Adam felt a lurch-
-and then he was sprawled on a low mound of wet grass, gasping for breath, and Kris was there too with his plaid and his guitar, and in the far, far distance, a gleaming white castle rose on a hill.
"Er."
Adam turned around to look at Merlin, who was standing sheepishly in the short grass, looking right at home.
"Oops."
At least Kris didn't seem to be in love with him anymore. Or at least, he was back to being his normal levels of flirty, and not, like, his I-am-conducting-immersive-empirical-research-on-the-behavioral-patterns-of-the-femme-fatale levels of flirty. They were baby steps, but oh, so welcome.
They'd even managed to side-step the awkward. It was most by virtue of the fact that Kris had said, "You know, this doesn't have to be awkward if we don't want it to be," and Adam was a great believer in the power of positive thinking in creating a desired reality, which had gotten him through American Idol after all. No reason it shouldn't apply here too.
"Man, it's cold out here," Kris said, his feet trudging in muddy grass, guitar slung over his shoulder. He looked like a little hobbit embarking on a journey. He turned to Merlin, marching at his side. "Can I have a-"
"No," Adam vetoed immediately.
Kris pouted. "But my neck is cold."
"Button up your shirt," Adam suggested, unimpressed. "I am not letting you wear a neckerchief. Your publicists have had to work hard enough to beat the hick out of you, and I am not letting you just take a huge, horrible step back in time." Adam grimaced. "So to speak."
"Merlin conjured up clothes for you," Kris said.
"Yeah, well, I was half-naked."
"I was all naked," Kris said under his breath.
"Other you."
"Could both of you shut up please?" Merlin said. "I'm trying to think of a plan, and your bickering isn't exactly helpful."
"I thought the plan was to go see the Dragon," Kris said.
"Yes, but it's not like you can just walk up to him and say, 'Oh, hello, can you please perform this bit of petty magic for me?'" Merlin absently tapped his walking stick against a stray rock. "Or, well, you can, but then you're running the risk of him losing his temper and sending you to the future so you can feel for yourself what it's like to be entrapped and forced to cater to the desires of feeble-minded imbeciles-his words, not mine," Merlin added, although he didn't exactly look like he disagreed. "Not that I'm speaking from experience."
Kris and Adam exchanged a look. "Dragon sounds like a drag," Adam said wryly, and Kris snickered, because yes, Adam's wit under duress could use some work; still, it made something in Adam's chest ease a little, warming the chilly air around them.
When the sun began to set, Merlin set up camp for them in a small cave in the middle of the forest. Kris was, it turned out, a miserable failure at lighting a fire with friction, and Adam was not even going to bother trying without a Zippo. It was Merlin who ended up igniting a small spark with a whispered word-but only after five extremely paranoid minutes of searching for any sign of human presence within a hundred yard radius.
"Is that really necessary?" Adam asked, after the fourth time Merlin jumped to his feet at the sound of a cracking twig, which turned out-again-to be Kris feeding scraps to a wandering rabbit. "You're freaking me out."
Merlin scowled, sitting back down. "Camelot isn't as safe as your City of Angeles. We have monsters, and bandits, and since I'm utterly useless at handling a sword myself, and I very much doubt either of you would be able to contribute anything towards ensuring our safety in the event that we're attacked, it really would be best if we all kept our heads down."
Kris strolled back to the campfire, folding himself down to sit against a large rock. "But if anything happened, couldn't you just-" Kris flicked his fingers at the air. "Poof?"
Merlin poked his stick at the fire, a little angrily. "I've told you already. Sorcery is illegal in Camelot. If anyone finds out about me, they'll put me to the stake. I'm not actually that fond of fire," he said, emphasizing his words with another sharp jab at the flames.
"That's gotta be rough," Kris said quietly.
Merlin shrugged, letting the stick drop to the ground. "Not like I can do anything about it. I was born this way."
Kris was looking at Merlin, soft and compassionate, and Adam was suddenly reminded that Kris had gone on mission trips around the world; he was glad, because for some reason Adam was finding it hard to speak.
"Can't you just leave Camelot, then?" Kris asked.
"No," Merlin said shortly, and didn't elaborate.
When night fell they doused the fire with dirt, and Merlin conjured up three thin blankets for them to sleep on. "I can't do more," Merlin said, a note of apology in his voice before anyone even said anything, although Adam was willing to admit he'd been about to. "My magic here isn't as strong as it is in your time."
The cave was freezing cold, and the blankets did little to help. Kris was probably curled into his guitar like a security blanket. For a moment Adam wished things could go back to the way they were; the pitch black of the cave could just as easily have been the pitch black of their room in the Idol mansion, or the shifting black of the Idol tour bus, rolling across the country in the dead of night, and one of them would have hummed softly, or cracked a joke, or just slumped across the other with exhaustion, too wiped to make their way into their own bed.
But in this darkness, in this silence, hyper-aware of Kris lying barely an arm's length away, breathing steadily, Adam couldn't really pretend that everything was the same. It would be easy to reach out a hand, just to feel contact. It would probably be best if he didn't.
A sharp noise woke him up in the middle of the night. "What the-"
"Shh," Merlin ordered, crouched by the entrance of the cave. A faint light from outside silhouetted his form. Torchlight, Adam realized; a group of men was walking past their cave accompanied by the clatter of loud, metallic clinking. Adam felt a chill down to his bones, and it wasn't from the cold. Swords, and chainmail.
Kris shifted next to Adam, clamping a hand on his guitar strings to keep them from thrumming. "Be still," Merlin hissed. They both froze. An angry bark was drawing nearer and nearer, and Adam could hear the creature-he really hoped it was only a dog, which was truly a depressing best case scenario-scrambling across the rocks they'd arranged around their fire. Adam held himself so still he was barely breathing by the time the dog-or wolf, or three-headed hellhound, or whatever it was-came close enough to growl viciously at Merlin. Merlin extended a hand, amazingly fucking calm in the face of the fierce snapping jaw, and whispered an indecipherable word, ancient and weighted.
The dog sniffed his hand and trotted away.
Adam waited for Merlin's all-clear sign a few quiet minutes later before letting out a shaking breath. "Fuck."
"Ditto," Kris said. He even sounded flappable.
Merlin crept back inside the cave. "It should be all right now. They've all gone. We still have a few hours until it's light enough to move again."
Torches gone, and they were left in the dark again, and even colder than before. Adam tried curling in on himself to conserve heat and failed miserably; his blanket was thin and scratchy, his limbs were shivering like he was in fucking withdrawal, and if this was the weather Simon Cowell was raised in, small wonder the man turned out such a son of a bitch.
And then suddenly a hand was flung across his chest, and Adam chin was confronted by a mass of soft, spiky hair. Adam stiffened. "Kris-"
"Please don't be ridiculous about this," Kris said, burrowing his face deeper into Adam's chest. He was trembling a little. "You're big and warm and I'm not really asking for permission."
Adam sighed, and said, "Hold on-" shifting around so that they were lying on Adam's blanket and covered by Kris's, and Kris replied with a muffled, "'Atta boy," and then Adam told Merlin, "Well, are you coming?" and Kris snickered again, shaking against Adam's chest. Merlin considered it for a moment before dragging his blanket to Adam as well, settling against his other side, scrawny and cold and so young, and said, "Well, you really are surprisingly comfortable."
"That's what they tell me," Adam said. "Fuck, your noses are cold."
"Suck it up, Lambert," Kris mumbled, patting him on the arm. It was already significantly warmer in the cave, or at least in their corner of it, tucked in under the blankets, and they were safe for now; shivering limbs relaxing into warmth, and then to sleep, and the last thing Adam felt was Kris's fingers curling softly against his own.
In the morning, Merlin put them in large green robes that hid their modern clothes. Without a mirror Adam had no clue what he actually looked like, but he could only hope he looked better than Kris, who was swimming in his robe much like-well, much like a hobbit in a huge green robe, probably.
Camelot was huge-big and white and bustling and bursting with energy. It was like something out of a movie; Adam could barely resist the urge to break into song, Dancing Through Life because this was the Emerald fucking City, wizard and all. Merlin's expression checked him in, though; the boy was panicked enough as it was with the guitar that Kris had resolutely refused to part with, now a slightly conspicuous blanket-wrapped package.
"If anyone runs into us," Merlin had warned them, "follow my lead. Just remember, don't let anyone know about the magic." So far, though, they seemed to be gliding smoothly through the city population.
They were almost at the end of the corridor that led, Merlin had promised, to the Dragon's cave, when they were stopped by a shouted "Merlin!"-and okay, Adam could totally get what was so frustrating about that tone, because wow. He winced a little, thinking back to his own possibly overly commandeering tone with Merlin.
Merlin turned around with a sigh. He was the Prince's manservant, he'd said, and from his tone and posture, there was no doubt this was the Prince; Adam fully expected a reaction along the lines of, "Yes, sire," head bowed subserviently, but probably with somewhat less kinky overtones than the ones running through Adam's head.
Instead, Merlin looked annoyed. "Yes, Arthur?"
Prince Arthur stared at Merlin incredulously. "You've been gone for a week!"
"I was visiting my mother," Merlin said, still looking put-upon; smooth liar, Adam noted. "You said I could go."
"Why on earth would I say that? My Corbenic shield has been sitting unpolished for a week."
"It's your fourth spare one," Merlin said. "I think it will survive. My mother's fine, by the way, thanks for asking."
"And drawing baths," the Prince continued, "all the servant girls are outrageously incompetent in getting the temperature right."
"Yes, the crops are faring well."
"Not to mention dressing me, it's like they don't even know where a girdle goes!"
Okay, so Adam hadn't been off the mark with the kinky. Neither had Kris, apparently, going by the unsuccessfully suppressed smirk on his face, which the Prince didn't fail to notice.
"And who are these?" Arthur demanded.
"Troubadours," Merlin said quickly. "Here to sing for the Lady Morgana. They've just arrived."
Arthur frowned at Kris and Adam. "You look strange," he said, referring, Adam assumed, to Kris's green, hobbit-like status. "Are you any good?" he asked Kris.
Kris smiled, all aw-shucks and charming. "I can't say, sire."
"What?" Arthur asked.
"Uh." Kris swallowed. "I said I can't say?"
Arthur turned to Merlin, confused. "Merlin, is he simple or something?"
"They're just from far away," Merlin said patiently. "Their accents take, er, some time to get used to."
"Ah," Arthur said, understanding. "Foreigners. All right, carry on. And I," he said, with a significant look in his eye which was almost impossible not to misunderstand, if he and Merlin weren't actually doing it, Jesus, "will be expecting you in my chambers tonight for a nice, hot bath."
Merlin waved off the Prince as he departed with his twirl of red cloth, and then it was down the stairwell, past the guard that Merlin had lulled to sleep, and time to meet the Dragon.
Adam had both seen The Wizard of Oz, and acted in a transformative work based on it. Meeting the Dragon would, he knew from experience, be nothing less than anticlimactic.
"Have you learned your lesson, Young Warlock?" the Dragon asked, his voice rumbling loudly in the enormous cavern.
"Yes," Merlin said. "And I really promise I won't come in here again unless it's a dire emergency. But," he said, and pushed Kris and Adam forward, a little too close to both the huge Dragon and the fucking endless precipice for comfort, "there was some collateral damage."
The Dragon flapped his wings a few times, flying close to Kris and Adam to blink at them with huge, slitted eyes, and Adam wasn't sure who grabbed whose hand first, but right now he was perfectly fine with his circulation being cut off in Kris's grip.
"Ah," the Dragon said, like he'd just had a great epiphany set off by staring at Adam's hair. Which, on second thought, was something Adam was totally willing to buy. "Masters Allen and Lambert. Yes, I know of you."
And, okay, wow. Adam had known he was famous, but having his reputation extend backwards in time was a little unexpected, if flattering.
"Uh," Kris said. Adam squeezed his hand.
"You must stay together," the Dragon said sagely. "You are like two sides of the same polyvinyl chloride music playing device. Do not forget it."
Kris and Adam exchanged a long look, because seriously, what the actual fuck-and then, to Adam's astonishment, Kris broke into a grin. "Ha!" he said.
Adam stared at Kris. "Seriously? 'Ha'?"
And apparently Kris had decided that now was the most appropriate time to turn on his full flirt mode, his face transforming in a single moment from whoa, Dragon to hey guess what, I still want to fuck you. "We," Kris said, like he was somehow proving a point, "are so totally meant to be together."
Adam let himself sound just as pissed off as he felt, because Christ, not this again. "You were under a fucking love spell!"
The Dragon started laughing.
Adam and Kris both turned to look at him. "I'm sorry," Adam said bitingly, "is there something you want to share?"
The Dragon let out a few more wheezing breaths that each smelled like rotten cattle carcass-which, Adam realized with horror after a moment, they probably were-and said: "There is no such thing as a love spell."
For a moment Adam felt the world drop beneath his feet, and had to look down to make sure he hadn't actually fallen off the cliff.
"There are potions that elicit yearning, of course," the Dragon elaborated, still looking amused, "and those that cause infatuation. But no potion or spell can ever produce true emotions of love and desire, the ones that truly propel the desire for a relationship."
"But Merlin said the spell worked." He still felt like he'd just gotten the wind knocked out of him, like something was squeezing in his chest, but at the same time, feeling-
-feeling something he definitely wasn't able to absorb, just yet.
"Ah, yes, the Young Warlock," the Dragon hummed. "Tell me, did any of your three wishes come about the way you wished them to?"
"…No," Adam was forced to admit.
"You have noticed yourself, then, that our Young Warlock is fairly inept."
"In my defense," Merlin piped up in the background, "I haven't been doing this for a very long time. And it's not like I have anywhere I can practice, you know. And honestly, granting wishes isn't even my job."
"So the spell did nothing?" Adam asked disbelievingly, because that kind of coincidence, no fucking way.
"At most," said the Dragon, "it was the spark that kindled the flame that was already set to ignite. And now-" the Dragon yawned-"I shall return you to the place from whence you came, for it is only there that you will be able to reach your true potential. You can have a moment to say your goodbyes."
So-a little more climactic than expected after all. Adam was still a little shell-shocked, and Kris was still a little smug, and Merlin was more resigned than anything when they turned to him at the same time. "You got him on one of his good days," Merlin told them. "He's usually far more cryptic."
Kris shook Merlin's hand and turned it into a hug, because he was Kris. "Stay strong, man," he said. "And hey, anytime anybody pulls you down, or anytime anybody says you're not allowed, just remember-you're not alone."
Merlin nodded, looking a bit wet around the eyes.
Adam didn't know what to say. He clasped Merlin's hand for a moment, swallowed, and said, "Thank you."
And then there was a lurch-
Things were crazy when they got back-Jingle Balls and late night TV, private shows and radio interviews. It seemed like they were never even in the same state, let alone the same city, and Christmas promotion was top priority over everything; there was no time to breathe, and no time to speak.
A week later, though, Adam was in the studio with the band when he got a text from Kris. Nothing you can be, but you can learn how to be you in time.
"Ten minutes," he told them, stepping outside. Tommy gave him a curious look, but didn't say a word.
He called Kris. "Are you going for enigmatic now? It worked better for the Dragon."
"Oh, he speaks," Kris said. "I was beginning to wonder."
"Sorry," Adam said, feeling a little embarrassed. It was possible, maybe, that he'd been avoiding Kris. Hiding behind their busy schedules. Dodging phone calls. Maybe.
"Hey, man, look, I just want to know we're okay. I promise that I'm not going to jump you the next time we meet. Not unless you, you know, ask. And not unless my wife knows. Both of which are very, very likely, I'm just saying."
Adam leaned his head back against the wall. "I would really love to have this conversation in person."
"Dude, I'm like two doors down from you."
Adam turned around, and there he was; bright blue shirt with a deep v-neck collar, dark jeans, dirty white Converse shoes, like he'd just stepped out of a romantic comedy. Adam snapped his phone shut. "You are seriously cheesier than you're given credit for," Adam noted.
"I'm so cheesy I got my own free dip for life, yo." Kris put his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall with his legs crossed. "Can I lure you in with the promise of free cheese dip?"
"I don't think so. I'd have to go to Arkansas for that. Not my style."
"Really," Kris said, lips quirking up. "I've heard they have cute Southern boys there. Might find something you like."
"Okay, look," Adam said. Being with Kris was so effortless-it was easy to get caught up in games without ever reaching the heart of the matter, and it was time, now. He braced himself. "I just need to know-how much of it was really you?"
And Kris got it, because his expression turned serious; so serious that after a few moments Adam had to turn his face away because he was starting to actually honest to god flush.
"Everything?" he asked, not exactly testing Kris, but needing to spell it out in order for it to be true. "You were halfway to agreeing to a threesome with-for lack of a better term-us."
"Oh, there was no halfway there, I promise you," he said, and Adam couldn't help his eyes widening in shock a little-and okay, with more than shock. Kris shrugged. "What can I say, man? I have a song called Live Like We're Dying, I practice what I preach." Kris smirked. "He even ended up giving me a few tips, for. You know." Kris waggled his eyebrows. "When."
And maybe it was the ridiculous description-seriously, waggling eyebrows?-of one of the hottest scenarios Adam could ever imagine, or the way Kris was already laughing at himself, nose wrinkling and tongue sticking out-or maybe it was just the fact that Kris was Kris-
The solid, promising reality of it settled into Adam's gut not like a sucker punch, for once, but like an old friend coming home. "When," Adam repeated, and god help him Kris's dorkiness was catching, because there was a huge, giddy smile on Adam's face that he was finding very hard to control. "How about you let me know when you're officially available, and it's a date."
*fin*
Songs featured in the story, by lyrics:
your skin is burning at the sight of me, your face can't hide what you're thinking (Adam)
chestnuts roasting on an open fire (Kris. It would not be an exaggeration to say that I listened to this at least 50 times over the course of writing this.)
make the Yuletide gay (oh, Kris)
so if your life flashed before you, what would you wish you would have done (Kris)
dancing through life (not the Adam version, alas, though you can watch him sing it here)
anytime anybody says you're not allowed, just remember you are not alone (Adam)
...and for kicks: nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be; it's easy (Beatles)
Or all of them in one file here. Thank you for reading ♥.
Even before he opened his eyes, Adam could feel the sunlight spilling bright and welcoming into the room through the drapes he'd forgotten to close. He curled into the warm body nestled comfortably against his back, feeling all of yesterday's tension evaporate from his body; safe and relaxed like he couldn't remember being for a long time. The arm thrown across his chest tightened its hold briefly, and Adam smiled at the soft puff of breath against his neck, the faint scratch of stubble and-
-oh shit-
-the lazy, mumbled, familiar, "Morning."
Adam's eyes flew open. He counted to ten, breathing steadily; really, he didn't know whether the bigger tragedy was that he'd slept with Kris and it wasn't even real, or that he'd slept with Kris and he couldn't even remember it. Collecting the tattered remnants of his cool, Adam disentangled himself from the arm around his chest-most emphatically did not have any impure thoughts when guitar-calloused fingertips brushed his skin-and got out of bed. Kris let out an unhappy little noise, trying to cling to Adam for a second longer, but Adam forcibly ignored him, slipping into a pair of briefs and jeans from the closet before daring to turn around and look at his bed.
Adam never would have imagined that when confronted with the sight of Kris Allen in his bed for the first time, his attention would not be caught by the way the white sheets tangled in Kris's legs; nor by the smooth, muscled expanse of Kris's back, dipping delicately and disappearing beneath the sheets; nor by the way his hair was all sticking-up and quirky and possibly actually alive; not even by the sleepy, almost drugged smile he was wearing in the morning light.
Well, okay, Adam did spare a moment to assess what, in exact detail, he would be missing for the rest of his life. But in the end, all of that took second place to the fucking goatee.
"Dude," Kris said, blinking. "You look different."
Adam wasn't a fan of gawking, but he was man enough to admit there was no other way to put it. "I'm sorry, I look different?"
Kris pulled the sheets up to better wrap them around his waist, which was a relief, one hundred percent a relief, and absolutely did not involve Adam sadfacing inside. "Your hair-" Kris started, and Adam pretty much sprinted to the closet mirror because god, what if something happened to his hair? "-it's, there's no red."
"…Yes," he said, because it was easier to focus on the small things, and thank god, he looked okay. He turned to Kris, still clutching his hair protectively. "That's the purpose of the black dye."
"No, I mean those red streaks, like Allison. But hey, if you wanna go back to black," he leaned back on his elbows, smile sly and inviting, "I like it either way."
Adam could barely even remember what he could possibly have told Merlin last night that would lead to this, but a thought was beginning to form in his head. It made sense, in a way. Maybe.
"I would like to say, for the record, that I have no idea what is actually going on here," Adam stated. "That said, I think I know what's going on."
"Is this a game?" Kris said. "Because you have to warn me about those, you know I suck at improvising."
Adam ignored him. "You're in my bed," Adam said, ticking off on his fingers.
"That is correct, sir."
"And your hair is shorter," Adam continued. "Barely, but I know hair. Also, your toenails are painted green. I don't know what that's about."
"Dude, believe me, I don't either-you were the one who painted them-"
"-But most importantly, you have a goatee."
Kris fell back on the pillows. "I told you, it's not a goatee! It's a refined stubble… thing. Cale said it was Johnny Deppish," Kris added unconvincingly, and then took in Adam's flat expression and sighed, resigned, like they'd already fought this battle a million times. "Okay, you know what, fine. I'll shave it. Happy?"
"Ha," Adam said, not laughing, "No. Because clearly," he said, finally reaching the inescapable conclusion, "you aren't really Kris. You are evil Kris from another dimension."
It was so obvious. Adam still wasn't sure how this fulfilled his clusterfuck of a wish in any way, but come on. Kris had a goatee. QE fucking D.
Kris didn't even pause-no dramatic confessions, no two-faced denials, no grudging respect for Adam's rapid deduction skills-just a slightly dubious expression as he sat up fully this time, and said, "Are we doing Star Trek? Because I think I have those ears Zach Quinto gave me lying around somewhere, but I'll have to go back to my old place-" Kris started to get up, still, thank god, wrapped in the sheet, like a small perfect toga-clad philosopher. A philosopher of Satan, maybe. Who knew where Merlin had dredged this guy from, really.
"Leave it," Adam said tiredly. "Look, I'm going to go get Merlin to get us out of this mess. Don't do anything evil while I'm gone."
"Adam, what the-" Kris said, and oh, that was adorable, he wasn't even cursing. "Are you mad or something? Hey, come on," he said, grabbing Adam's hand, sliding his thumb across Adam's wrist soothingly, and Adam couldn't help but lean towards him a little. "Look, seriously, I'll shave it off if it's bothering you that much. Cale was probably lying to make himself look better anyway." Kris brought Adam's palm to his lips, and-god, even if he was evil, maybe-it's not like it was really Kris anyway-
"Okay, this is really weird," Kris said, moving Adam's hand away to look at his wrist closely. "The purple line from your tattoo is gone. I don't think that's supposed to happen."
Adam froze. He'd been thinking about getting an extra outline below the Eye of Horus, because there was no reason his tattoo shouldn't have awesome eyeliner; he'd even talked dates with Danielle, maybe getting it for his birthday-a new year, something symbolic. He had definitely never told Kris this. A new idea began to tug at the back of his mind-that maybe, maybe, it wasn't that Kris was evil per se, but that he was something entirely-unbelievably-different.
"So hey," Kris said, and he and Adam had always had an uncanny way of sharing thoughts, so Adam wasn't really surprised to hear him say: "What year is this, anyway?"
"2009," Adam replied warily, but then turned on the TV, hitting mute, just to make sure he was right. The date blinked back at him from the top left corner of the screen; he was.
"Huh," Kris said, in the sort of tone that one would use to say, Huh, the Times changed their crossword puzzle font to Arial, or Huh, we're out of applesauce. It was definitely not the tone Adam would use to say Huh, I'm not in the year I thought I was, but then, Adam's name clearly wasn't Kris Allen, Mr. Unflappable 2009. Or thereabouts. "I'm from 2012. So, that makes sense."
"Of course it does," Adam said dryly, and then sat down limply on the bed because Jesus fucking Christ, his life. Maybe he should just give up and accept his fate as one forever doomed to have some kind of screwed up and magically-screwed-with relationship with Kris. Kris sat down next to him. "In the interest of full disclosure," Adam said, rubbing his forehead, "I should tell you that you're here because I found a genie named Merlin and I can't keep my mouth shut."
"Whoa." Kris blinked. "Okay, that is freaky." He added, "I already knew the second bit."
Adam snorted, and then felt Kris's hand on his back, rubbing gently, like he was scared Adam was going to run away or something. "Anyway," Adam said, "sorry for taking you out of your life. I'll get you back, I promise."
"I know you will," Kris said, absolute faith in his voice, which made Adam's heart ache a little. He could feel Kris move, shifting so that he was on his knees behind Adam, hands moving up towards Adam's shoulders, and suddenly Adam was very aware of the fact that the only things separating them were Adam's jeans and the thin sheet spread across Kris's lap, which, god, they really needed to cover Kris up with something that didn't make Adam want to lean back and pull Kris down to-actually, at this point there probably wasn't much they could do about the wanting. Adam could fucking control himself anyway.
Enough, at least, to ask, "So how's Katy in 2012?"
Kris chuckled softly behind him. "She's good. She's, you know, working, and she's started seeing that guy from Teme-oh wait, I don't think they've even started filming that yet, you won't know who I'm talking about."
"So you're-separated?" he asked neutrally.
"Divorced." The finality of the word made Adam's heart start to hammer in his chest. Kris kept kneading his shoulders, strong and good and totally unbothered by the conversation. "Almost two years now."
Adam could see how that might unfold: Kris, infatuated under Merlin's spell, relentless in pursuing Adam because it was magic and it wasn't like not like he could help it; Katy, unable to stand it anymore and finally leaving, and Adam swooping in to reap the spoils-spoils, because talk about objectification, but that's exactly what Kris would be at that point. And Adam would have won a whole damn life based on a lie.
He felt Kris's heat against his back, Kris leaning forward until they were pressed together; Kris wrapped his arms around him, hair and stubble tickling Adam's cheek, the corner of his eye. "Adam," Kris said, "relax," and Adam didn't think he could do this, or at least he knew that he shouldn't do this, but when Kris licked into his ear he still shivered with a sigh and maybe a moan, because in spite of all the bullshit here, that was still a very real hard-on pressed against his back. Maybe he could-just once, with a Kris who wasn't even real, just to know what it felt like before losing the possibility forever-Adam twisted his head so he could meet Kris's lips, and Kris smiled against his mouth, "That's more like it," one hand cradling Adam's neck and jaw and pulling him in closer, drinking him in, shifting again so he could pretty much climb on top of Adam-
"What the heck," Kris said from the doorway-Kris in blue jeans and yellow plaid, holding a guitar in his left hand and nearly giving Adam a heart attack. He tilted his head to the side, studying Adam and future Kris. "Whoa." He blinked. "Okay, that is freaky."
"Um," Adam said, feeling kind of fucking horrible, and he practically had no shame, ever. "So, you remember I told you about a spell yesterday?"
"Yes."
"It was all true."
"I am beginning to realize that," Kris said, still staring at future-Kris. "Huh."
Thankfully, future-Kris was already climbing back off of Adam without Adam having to, like, throw him off, and suddenly Adam remembered that Kris's presence in his bedroom-let alone Kris's presences-wasn't exactly something he should be taking for granted. "What are you even doing here?"
"Remember I told you about a sneak seduction yesterday?" He raised his guitar up for display, looking a little embarrassed. "Tada."
"Nice, man," future-Kris said with approval. "He loves it when you play him stuff."
Real Kris flushed. "Cool, man. Thanks. Uh-I'm Kris, by the way."
"Likewise," future-Kris said, and wow, they were truly fascinating to watch. It was like they were both going for gold in the Nonchalance Olympics. "I'm from 2012."
Real Kris's eyes widened for a split-second. "Oh, wow. Is-"
"No," future-Kris said.
"Cool," said real Kris, and then they were both grinning at one another, and Adam was pretty sure he'd just missed a really dorky joke about the apocalypse but they could just as easily have been talking about the Arkansas Somethings' ten year winning streak, or losing streak, or who the fuck knew, really.
"And you and Adam-" real Kris asked.
Future-Kris smirked. "Oh, yeah."
"And you and Katy-" Future-Kris shook his head. "Yeah," real Kris said. "I figured."
"This," Adam said, talking mostly to himself, because obviously the Krises were enjoying catching up with one another and were possibly on the path to opening their own morning talk show, "is so much more surreal than acid-tripping at Burning Man, I don't even have the words for it."
Future-Kris and real Kris exchanged a long look, and suddenly two alarmingly interested gazes were being directed at Adam. "You know," future-Kris said, "Having both of us here doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing." He slunk forward to the front of the bed-how did he keep that sheet from falling off? He obviously got a lot of practice at this kind of thing in the future-and lounged there lazily, trailing a finger across his own chest like a fucking porn star, Christ. "Kris," he said in a low, sexy voice, "I can teach you a few things about Adam, if you want."
Adam's mouth went suddenly dry. So, apparently, did Kris's; he swallowed, then licked his lips, tiny pink tongue darting out between his teeth; he bit down on it, drew in a slow breath, and said, "Kind of a lot, yes." His voice was slightly uneven.
"Awesome," future-Kris said, and reached out to pull Adam in towards the bed, which was really harder to resist that he'd have thought-maybe Adam needed to buy rugs with more friction or something. And future-Kris had this amused, wicked look in his eye, the one that Adam always knew sex would bring out in him; he looked like he could see right through Adam, knew all his tells and all his secrets, knew that he singlehandedly held the one key that could unlock Adam completely.
Real Kris looked like he wanted to own that key more than anything in the entire fucking world.
Adam took in a shuddering breath. "Shit," he said, and then spun around and marched out of the room.
Last night, Merlin had migrated from his bottle of mineral water to the slightly more spacious, delicate Italian fiasco; which, Adam thought, was all too appropriate a name, considering.
Adam tried rubbing the bottle, then opening it and yelling Merlin's name inside. Nothing happened. He really hoped he wouldn't have to drink all the way down to the bottom for this to work, although frankly, it's not like he wasn't up for it at the moment. At least yelling into a bottle was giving his dick some time to cool off, because seriously. Resisting the advances of three Krises within twenty four hours was, Adam was pretty sure, included in the Geneva Convention as an official form of torture.
"Finally!" he said, when Merlin finally showed up, swirly smoke-like substance resolving itself into the same unfortunately-clothed wizard. "Where the hell were you?"
"Have you even considered the possibility that I was out saving your life, you arrogant, self-centered prat?"
Adam was so surprised by Merlin's vehemence that he took a step back. "Were you?"
Merlin signed mournfully. "No, but I've been wanting to say that for the longest time. Sorry, I was washing my hair."
"In my Chianti?"
Merlin rolled his eyes. "Not quite that literally. I am magic, you know."
"Oh, I've noticed." Adam's eyes narrowed. "Listen, I'm going to make my last wish nice and clear, just so we don't have any more miscommunication here. I am hereby officially un-wishing my previous two wishes. I just want you to take us back to before it all happened."
Merlin wrung his hands together, twiddling his kerchief for a moment. "All right, to take you back to before this all happened," he repeated. "You're sure?"
"Yes."
Merlin lifted his eyebrows. "All right, then-" and then his eyes flashed yellow-
-and then the whole world flashed yellow-
-Adam felt a lurch-
-and then he was sprawled on a low mound of wet grass, gasping for breath, and Kris was there too with his plaid and his guitar, and in the far, far distance, a gleaming white castle rose on a hill.
"Er."
Adam turned around to look at Merlin, who was standing sheepishly in the short grass, looking right at home.
"Oops."
At least Kris didn't seem to be in love with him anymore. Or at least, he was back to being his normal levels of flirty, and not, like, his I-am-conducting-immersive-empirical-research-on-the-behavioral-patterns-of-the-femme-fatale levels of flirty. They were baby steps, but oh, so welcome.
They'd even managed to side-step the awkward. It was most by virtue of the fact that Kris had said, "You know, this doesn't have to be awkward if we don't want it to be," and Adam was a great believer in the power of positive thinking in creating a desired reality, which had gotten him through American Idol after all. No reason it shouldn't apply here too.
"Man, it's cold out here," Kris said, his feet trudging in muddy grass, guitar slung over his shoulder. He looked like a little hobbit embarking on a journey. He turned to Merlin, marching at his side. "Can I have a-"
"No," Adam vetoed immediately.
Kris pouted. "But my neck is cold."
"Button up your shirt," Adam suggested, unimpressed. "I am not letting you wear a neckerchief. Your publicists have had to work hard enough to beat the hick out of you, and I am not letting you just take a huge, horrible step back in time." Adam grimaced. "So to speak."
"Merlin conjured up clothes for you," Kris said.
"Yeah, well, I was half-naked."
"I was all naked," Kris said under his breath.
"Other you."
"Could both of you shut up please?" Merlin said. "I'm trying to think of a plan, and your bickering isn't exactly helpful."
"I thought the plan was to go see the Dragon," Kris said.
"Yes, but it's not like you can just walk up to him and say, 'Oh, hello, can you please perform this bit of petty magic for me?'" Merlin absently tapped his walking stick against a stray rock. "Or, well, you can, but then you're running the risk of him losing his temper and sending you to the future so you can feel for yourself what it's like to be entrapped and forced to cater to the desires of feeble-minded imbeciles-his words, not mine," Merlin added, although he didn't exactly look like he disagreed. "Not that I'm speaking from experience."
Kris and Adam exchanged a look. "Dragon sounds like a drag," Adam said wryly, and Kris snickered, because yes, Adam's wit under duress could use some work; still, it made something in Adam's chest ease a little, warming the chilly air around them.
When the sun began to set, Merlin set up camp for them in a small cave in the middle of the forest. Kris was, it turned out, a miserable failure at lighting a fire with friction, and Adam was not even going to bother trying without a Zippo. It was Merlin who ended up igniting a small spark with a whispered word-but only after five extremely paranoid minutes of searching for any sign of human presence within a hundred yard radius.
"Is that really necessary?" Adam asked, after the fourth time Merlin jumped to his feet at the sound of a cracking twig, which turned out-again-to be Kris feeding scraps to a wandering rabbit. "You're freaking me out."
Merlin scowled, sitting back down. "Camelot isn't as safe as your City of Angeles. We have monsters, and bandits, and since I'm utterly useless at handling a sword myself, and I very much doubt either of you would be able to contribute anything towards ensuring our safety in the event that we're attacked, it really would be best if we all kept our heads down."
Kris strolled back to the campfire, folding himself down to sit against a large rock. "But if anything happened, couldn't you just-" Kris flicked his fingers at the air. "Poof?"
Merlin poked his stick at the fire, a little angrily. "I've told you already. Sorcery is illegal in Camelot. If anyone finds out about me, they'll put me to the stake. I'm not actually that fond of fire," he said, emphasizing his words with another sharp jab at the flames.
"That's gotta be rough," Kris said quietly.
Merlin shrugged, letting the stick drop to the ground. "Not like I can do anything about it. I was born this way."
Kris was looking at Merlin, soft and compassionate, and Adam was suddenly reminded that Kris had gone on mission trips around the world; he was glad, because for some reason Adam was finding it hard to speak.
"Can't you just leave Camelot, then?" Kris asked.
"No," Merlin said shortly, and didn't elaborate.
When night fell they doused the fire with dirt, and Merlin conjured up three thin blankets for them to sleep on. "I can't do more," Merlin said, a note of apology in his voice before anyone even said anything, although Adam was willing to admit he'd been about to. "My magic here isn't as strong as it is in your time."
The cave was freezing cold, and the blankets did little to help. Kris was probably curled into his guitar like a security blanket. For a moment Adam wished things could go back to the way they were; the pitch black of the cave could just as easily have been the pitch black of their room in the Idol mansion, or the shifting black of the Idol tour bus, rolling across the country in the dead of night, and one of them would have hummed softly, or cracked a joke, or just slumped across the other with exhaustion, too wiped to make their way into their own bed.
But in this darkness, in this silence, hyper-aware of Kris lying barely an arm's length away, breathing steadily, Adam couldn't really pretend that everything was the same. It would be easy to reach out a hand, just to feel contact. It would probably be best if he didn't.
A sharp noise woke him up in the middle of the night. "What the-"
"Shh," Merlin ordered, crouched by the entrance of the cave. A faint light from outside silhouetted his form. Torchlight, Adam realized; a group of men was walking past their cave accompanied by the clatter of loud, metallic clinking. Adam felt a chill down to his bones, and it wasn't from the cold. Swords, and chainmail.
Kris shifted next to Adam, clamping a hand on his guitar strings to keep them from thrumming. "Be still," Merlin hissed. They both froze. An angry bark was drawing nearer and nearer, and Adam could hear the creature-he really hoped it was only a dog, which was truly a depressing best case scenario-scrambling across the rocks they'd arranged around their fire. Adam held himself so still he was barely breathing by the time the dog-or wolf, or three-headed hellhound, or whatever it was-came close enough to growl viciously at Merlin. Merlin extended a hand, amazingly fucking calm in the face of the fierce snapping jaw, and whispered an indecipherable word, ancient and weighted.
The dog sniffed his hand and trotted away.
Adam waited for Merlin's all-clear sign a few quiet minutes later before letting out a shaking breath. "Fuck."
"Ditto," Kris said. He even sounded flappable.
Merlin crept back inside the cave. "It should be all right now. They've all gone. We still have a few hours until it's light enough to move again."
Torches gone, and they were left in the dark again, and even colder than before. Adam tried curling in on himself to conserve heat and failed miserably; his blanket was thin and scratchy, his limbs were shivering like he was in fucking withdrawal, and if this was the weather Simon Cowell was raised in, small wonder the man turned out such a son of a bitch.
And then suddenly a hand was flung across his chest, and Adam chin was confronted by a mass of soft, spiky hair. Adam stiffened. "Kris-"
"Please don't be ridiculous about this," Kris said, burrowing his face deeper into Adam's chest. He was trembling a little. "You're big and warm and I'm not really asking for permission."
Adam sighed, and said, "Hold on-" shifting around so that they were lying on Adam's blanket and covered by Kris's, and Kris replied with a muffled, "'Atta boy," and then Adam told Merlin, "Well, are you coming?" and Kris snickered again, shaking against Adam's chest. Merlin considered it for a moment before dragging his blanket to Adam as well, settling against his other side, scrawny and cold and so young, and said, "Well, you really are surprisingly comfortable."
"That's what they tell me," Adam said. "Fuck, your noses are cold."
"Suck it up, Lambert," Kris mumbled, patting him on the arm. It was already significantly warmer in the cave, or at least in their corner of it, tucked in under the blankets, and they were safe for now; shivering limbs relaxing into warmth, and then to sleep, and the last thing Adam felt was Kris's fingers curling softly against his own.
In the morning, Merlin put them in large green robes that hid their modern clothes. Without a mirror Adam had no clue what he actually looked like, but he could only hope he looked better than Kris, who was swimming in his robe much like-well, much like a hobbit in a huge green robe, probably.
Camelot was huge-big and white and bustling and bursting with energy. It was like something out of a movie; Adam could barely resist the urge to break into song, Dancing Through Life because this was the Emerald fucking City, wizard and all. Merlin's expression checked him in, though; the boy was panicked enough as it was with the guitar that Kris had resolutely refused to part with, now a slightly conspicuous blanket-wrapped package.
"If anyone runs into us," Merlin had warned them, "follow my lead. Just remember, don't let anyone know about the magic." So far, though, they seemed to be gliding smoothly through the city population.
They were almost at the end of the corridor that led, Merlin had promised, to the Dragon's cave, when they were stopped by a shouted "Merlin!"-and okay, Adam could totally get what was so frustrating about that tone, because wow. He winced a little, thinking back to his own possibly overly commandeering tone with Merlin.
Merlin turned around with a sigh. He was the Prince's manservant, he'd said, and from his tone and posture, there was no doubt this was the Prince; Adam fully expected a reaction along the lines of, "Yes, sire," head bowed subserviently, but probably with somewhat less kinky overtones than the ones running through Adam's head.
Instead, Merlin looked annoyed. "Yes, Arthur?"
Prince Arthur stared at Merlin incredulously. "You've been gone for a week!"
"I was visiting my mother," Merlin said, still looking put-upon; smooth liar, Adam noted. "You said I could go."
"Why on earth would I say that? My Corbenic shield has been sitting unpolished for a week."
"It's your fourth spare one," Merlin said. "I think it will survive. My mother's fine, by the way, thanks for asking."
"And drawing baths," the Prince continued, "all the servant girls are outrageously incompetent in getting the temperature right."
"Yes, the crops are faring well."
"Not to mention dressing me, it's like they don't even know where a girdle goes!"
Okay, so Adam hadn't been off the mark with the kinky. Neither had Kris, apparently, going by the unsuccessfully suppressed smirk on his face, which the Prince didn't fail to notice.
"And who are these?" Arthur demanded.
"Troubadours," Merlin said quickly. "Here to sing for the Lady Morgana. They've just arrived."
Arthur frowned at Kris and Adam. "You look strange," he said, referring, Adam assumed, to Kris's green, hobbit-like status. "Are you any good?" he asked Kris.
Kris smiled, all aw-shucks and charming. "I can't say, sire."
"What?" Arthur asked.
"Uh." Kris swallowed. "I said I can't say?"
Arthur turned to Merlin, confused. "Merlin, is he simple or something?"
"They're just from far away," Merlin said patiently. "Their accents take, er, some time to get used to."
"Ah," Arthur said, understanding. "Foreigners. All right, carry on. And I," he said, with a significant look in his eye which was almost impossible not to misunderstand, if he and Merlin weren't actually doing it, Jesus, "will be expecting you in my chambers tonight for a nice, hot bath."
Merlin waved off the Prince as he departed with his twirl of red cloth, and then it was down the stairwell, past the guard that Merlin had lulled to sleep, and time to meet the Dragon.
Adam had both seen The Wizard of Oz, and acted in a transformative work based on it. Meeting the Dragon would, he knew from experience, be nothing less than anticlimactic.
"Have you learned your lesson, Young Warlock?" the Dragon asked, his voice rumbling loudly in the enormous cavern.
"Yes," Merlin said. "And I really promise I won't come in here again unless it's a dire emergency. But," he said, and pushed Kris and Adam forward, a little too close to both the huge Dragon and the fucking endless precipice for comfort, "there was some collateral damage."
The Dragon flapped his wings a few times, flying close to Kris and Adam to blink at them with huge, slitted eyes, and Adam wasn't sure who grabbed whose hand first, but right now he was perfectly fine with his circulation being cut off in Kris's grip.
"Ah," the Dragon said, like he'd just had a great epiphany set off by staring at Adam's hair. Which, on second thought, was something Adam was totally willing to buy. "Masters Allen and Lambert. Yes, I know of you."
And, okay, wow. Adam had known he was famous, but having his reputation extend backwards in time was a little unexpected, if flattering.
"Uh," Kris said. Adam squeezed his hand.
"You must stay together," the Dragon said sagely. "You are like two sides of the same polyvinyl chloride music playing device. Do not forget it."
Kris and Adam exchanged a long look, because seriously, what the actual fuck-and then, to Adam's astonishment, Kris broke into a grin. "Ha!" he said.
Adam stared at Kris. "Seriously? 'Ha'?"
And apparently Kris had decided that now was the most appropriate time to turn on his full flirt mode, his face transforming in a single moment from whoa, Dragon to hey guess what, I still want to fuck you. "We," Kris said, like he was somehow proving a point, "are so totally meant to be together."
Adam let himself sound just as pissed off as he felt, because Christ, not this again. "You were under a fucking love spell!"
The Dragon started laughing.
Adam and Kris both turned to look at him. "I'm sorry," Adam said bitingly, "is there something you want to share?"
The Dragon let out a few more wheezing breaths that each smelled like rotten cattle carcass-which, Adam realized with horror after a moment, they probably were-and said: "There is no such thing as a love spell."
For a moment Adam felt the world drop beneath his feet, and had to look down to make sure he hadn't actually fallen off the cliff.
"There are potions that elicit yearning, of course," the Dragon elaborated, still looking amused, "and those that cause infatuation. But no potion or spell can ever produce true emotions of love and desire, the ones that truly propel the desire for a relationship."
"But Merlin said the spell worked." He still felt like he'd just gotten the wind knocked out of him, like something was squeezing in his chest, but at the same time, feeling-
-feeling something he definitely wasn't able to absorb, just yet.
"Ah, yes, the Young Warlock," the Dragon hummed. "Tell me, did any of your three wishes come about the way you wished them to?"
"…No," Adam was forced to admit.
"You have noticed yourself, then, that our Young Warlock is fairly inept."
"In my defense," Merlin piped up in the background, "I haven't been doing this for a very long time. And it's not like I have anywhere I can practice, you know. And honestly, granting wishes isn't even my job."
"So the spell did nothing?" Adam asked disbelievingly, because that kind of coincidence, no fucking way.
"At most," said the Dragon, "it was the spark that kindled the flame that was already set to ignite. And now-" the Dragon yawned-"I shall return you to the place from whence you came, for it is only there that you will be able to reach your true potential. You can have a moment to say your goodbyes."
So-a little more climactic than expected after all. Adam was still a little shell-shocked, and Kris was still a little smug, and Merlin was more resigned than anything when they turned to him at the same time. "You got him on one of his good days," Merlin told them. "He's usually far more cryptic."
Kris shook Merlin's hand and turned it into a hug, because he was Kris. "Stay strong, man," he said. "And hey, anytime anybody pulls you down, or anytime anybody says you're not allowed, just remember-you're not alone."
Merlin nodded, looking a bit wet around the eyes.
Adam didn't know what to say. He clasped Merlin's hand for a moment, swallowed, and said, "Thank you."
And then there was a lurch-
Things were crazy when they got back-Jingle Balls and late night TV, private shows and radio interviews. It seemed like they were never even in the same state, let alone the same city, and Christmas promotion was top priority over everything; there was no time to breathe, and no time to speak.
A week later, though, Adam was in the studio with the band when he got a text from Kris. Nothing you can be, but you can learn how to be you in time.
"Ten minutes," he told them, stepping outside. Tommy gave him a curious look, but didn't say a word.
He called Kris. "Are you going for enigmatic now? It worked better for the Dragon."
"Oh, he speaks," Kris said. "I was beginning to wonder."
"Sorry," Adam said, feeling a little embarrassed. It was possible, maybe, that he'd been avoiding Kris. Hiding behind their busy schedules. Dodging phone calls. Maybe.
"Hey, man, look, I just want to know we're okay. I promise that I'm not going to jump you the next time we meet. Not unless you, you know, ask. And not unless my wife knows. Both of which are very, very likely, I'm just saying."
Adam leaned his head back against the wall. "I would really love to have this conversation in person."
"Dude, I'm like two doors down from you."
Adam turned around, and there he was; bright blue shirt with a deep v-neck collar, dark jeans, dirty white Converse shoes, like he'd just stepped out of a romantic comedy. Adam snapped his phone shut. "You are seriously cheesier than you're given credit for," Adam noted.
"I'm so cheesy I got my own free dip for life, yo." Kris put his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall with his legs crossed. "Can I lure you in with the promise of free cheese dip?"
"I don't think so. I'd have to go to Arkansas for that. Not my style."
"Really," Kris said, lips quirking up. "I've heard they have cute Southern boys there. Might find something you like."
"Okay, look," Adam said. Being with Kris was so effortless-it was easy to get caught up in games without ever reaching the heart of the matter, and it was time, now. He braced himself. "I just need to know-how much of it was really you?"
And Kris got it, because his expression turned serious; so serious that after a few moments Adam had to turn his face away because he was starting to actually honest to god flush.
"Everything?" he asked, not exactly testing Kris, but needing to spell it out in order for it to be true. "You were halfway to agreeing to a threesome with-for lack of a better term-us."
"Oh, there was no halfway there, I promise you," he said, and Adam couldn't help his eyes widening in shock a little-and okay, with more than shock. Kris shrugged. "What can I say, man? I have a song called Live Like We're Dying, I practice what I preach." Kris smirked. "He even ended up giving me a few tips, for. You know." Kris waggled his eyebrows. "When."
And maybe it was the ridiculous description-seriously, waggling eyebrows?-of one of the hottest scenarios Adam could ever imagine, or the way Kris was already laughing at himself, nose wrinkling and tongue sticking out-or maybe it was just the fact that Kris was Kris-
The solid, promising reality of it settled into Adam's gut not like a sucker punch, for once, but like an old friend coming home. "When," Adam repeated, and god help him Kris's dorkiness was catching, because there was a huge, giddy smile on Adam's face that he was finding very hard to control. "How about you let me know when you're officially available, and it's a date."
*fin*
Songs featured in the story, by lyrics:
your skin is burning at the sight of me, your face can't hide what you're thinking (Adam)
chestnuts roasting on an open fire (Kris. It would not be an exaggeration to say that I listened to this at least 50 times over the course of writing this.)
make the Yuletide gay (oh, Kris)
so if your life flashed before you, what would you wish you would have done (Kris)
dancing through life (not the Adam version, alas, though you can watch him sing it here)
anytime anybody says you're not allowed, just remember you are not alone (Adam)
...and for kicks: nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be; it's easy (Beatles)
Or all of them in one file here. Thank you for reading ♥.