Fic: The Alderman Ford Touch-a-Thon Event 2/2
Title: The Alderman Ford Touch-a-Thon Event
Fandom: American Idol (Adam/Kris)
Genre: modern AU
Word Count: 15,000 [complete]
Rating: R
Summary: Adam and Kris never tried out for American Idol. Instead, in August 2010, they meet in a very different kind of competition, trying to win a new car in an all-day dealership challenge. But can they keep their hands on the car instead of each other?
Back to Part I
The sun was shimmering low over the ocean, bathing the whole food court in blinding orange light as Adam and Kris leaned on the roof of the car. There was a near-collision between diners at the glass doors leading to the outside tables, and another near-miss in front of the trash cans, and Adam murmured, "They maybe should've tinted those windows."
"But then they'd lose this neat Jerry Bruckheimer lighting."
Adam snickered. "How long've you been in Los Angeles? You're already speaking like a native."
"About three years. There wasn't anything going on in Arkansas," he shrugged. "I figured, why not give L.A. a chance to impress me."
"And were you impressed?"
"I'm still here, aren't I?"
"Well, maybe you're trying to win a set of wheels so you can get back where you came from."
Kris settled his chin over his fingers and sighed. "No. I'm not goin' anywhere."
"Aren't you supposed to say 'I ain't goin' nowhere?'" Adam teased in a terrible imitation of a Southern hick.
"Oh, right. You're right. Ah'm s'posed to talk like I ain't had me no propuh education."
"Edu-muh-cation," Adam corrected, entranced by Kris's thicker, exaggerated drawl. He should not be encouraging this-Kris's light accent was already too appealing. And the heavier twang on a pretty twink…it was totally his kryptonite.
"Show 'nuff," Kris nodded his head a little. "We ain't gots no edumuhcation where ah'm from."
Adam noticed a group of young guys walking through the food court, laughing loudly and disturbing the dinner crowd, and he whispered to Kris, "Hold on, I'll be right back."
Kris looked over at the kids and wrinkled his forehead in confusion.
"What's so funny?" Adam asked Jasmine, drawing her attention to the kids cracking up as they walked past the car.
"I don't know," she said.
"They were pointing at us just a second ago," he said, pleased to see the light of paranoia come on in her eyes.
Jasmine straightened up, made sure her breasts were still inside her shirt and started touching her weave nervously. "At us?"
"Yeah. Wait…." Adam leaned to his left, like he was looking behind her, and then gasped, "Oh no, honey, your skirt's all caught up in your panties!"
"What?" she gasped in horror, hands flying back to tug her skirt down. "Wait-" she said, realizing too late that her skirt was fine. That she'd just been set up. "You asshole!" she wailed, just before the air horn blasted.
Once Jasmine had been escorted away, Adam laid himself out across the windshield again, propped up on an elbow, and said, casual, "Where were we?" to Kris.
Kris was staring at him in awe. "Um," he said. "I'm glad you're on my side."
Adam smiled.
"For now," Kris added hastily.
"For now," Adam agreed. "So, when are you gonna take care of Steve? 'Cause I've got some ideas for him if you-"
Kris looked at the agent still standing at the trunk, seeming pleased with Jasmine's elimination. "No, I've got him. I'm just…waiting 'til the right moment."
"All right. How about Tyler?"
"What about him?"
Adam eyed the good-looking guy chatting with Cynthia directly across the car from them. "You tell me. What's his deal?"
"He just got his SAG card, he's between auditions, and he's trying to win this car to impress his girlfriend."
"Girlfriend, huh?"
"Aww, disappointed?" Kris smirked.
"No, no. Not my type. But I wouldn't've been surprised if it'd been a boyfriend."
Kris studied Tyler closely. "What, is your bat-gaydar pinging or something?"
Adam shrugged. "Nah. But statistically speaking, actors in L.A. are almost never 100% straight."
Kris snorted. "Wow, talk about a gross generalization."
"No, it's like…. There's a lot of competition for roles, and not all the casting directors are women. It's the economics of flirting, that's all."
"So if he flirts with guys, he can't be straight?"
"I didn't say that. Just…he's not as straight as you."
"Oh, 'cause I'm 100% straight."
Something about Kris's amused tone got Adam's undivided attention. "What?"
"Nothing," he said innocently.
"That was sarcasm. You just said you were straight sarcastically."
"I thought you were the one saying I was straight."
"Wait." Adam stood up to his full height, looking down at Kris slumped across the roof. "Are you fucking with my head?"
"Why would I do that?" Kris rolled his head over so he could blink up at him. "You're my alliance partner."
"Yeah. But I'm starting to think you might be a sneaky little fucker."
Kris smiled, showing all his teeth. "Really? Awesome!"
"Now tell me why you're yanking my chain."
He stood up to face Adam. "You're the one making all these assumptions about people's sexuality…."
"And you got offended," Adam guessed.
"Well, if you're gonna talk about me, I'd kinda prefer you get it right."
Adam opened his mouth to toss off a casual comeback, and then realized he had none. "I'm not…. Wow."
"You doin' okay, there?" Kris was having way too much fun at his expense.
"Okay then," Adam scowled. "Set me straight." Kris snickered again and Adam rolled his eyes. "Fuck off. You're not gay," he said with complete conviction. "You said 'girlfriends.'"
Kris nodded. "But I'm not totally straight, either."
"Tell you what. Since it feels like you're trying to teach me some kind of lesson here, why don't you tell me how you define your sexuality? That way I'll stop getting it wrong."
Kris actually had the gall to blush when the question was put to him. "Um. I'm straight…."
"Uh huh," Adam nodded, determined to wait him out.
"But…I've made out with a few guys."
"In what state of sobriety?" Adam asked, suddenly guessing where this was going.
"I get kinda...affectionate when I'm drunk," Kris admitted. "And my band mates are pretty good-looking."
"So you're, like, a three-beer queer?"
He blushed even harder. "Sometimes only two beers?"
Adam laughed and threw an arm around Kris's shoulders, dragging him into a friendly headlock. "Aww, the straight-boy likes boy-lips," he cooed.
"Hey," Kris tried to shove him off. "No judging!"
"I'm not judging," Adam said indignantly, letting him go. "I think it's adorable. But with that build up, I thought you were gonna tell me you'd been sucking cock since the 9th grade."
Kris bit his lip and looked at his feet, and Adam actually gasped like an old maid.
"Kris! You do not suck cock!"
Kris looked up, laughter dancing in his wicked brown eyes. "Well, not with that attitude I don't."
"Excuse me," Cynthia said firmly. They looked over to see Cynthia and Tyler staring at them, scandalized. "This is mixed company."
Adam couldn't help it; he giggled. Kris looked at him and burst out laughing while their competitors glared at them.
~
The food court stopped serving food at 9:30, and at 10:00 mall security started asking the few shoppers still in the food court to leave.
Once the last spectators were gone, Joey Martinez waved to all of them on his way out the door, "G'night, guys. Uh, good luck! Hang in there! I'll see you all tomorrow, hopefully."
And then a new Alderman Ford rep slid under the velvet rope and put his hands on the car where Laura the cheerleader had stood. "Hey, guys," he said with a sympathetic tone, "how's everybody holding up?"
"Eh," Tyler said. That sufficed for everybody else.
"Okay, look," the new guy said, "I'm Mitch; I'm the VP at Alderman's. And I'm here to babysit you guys tonight. And I mean babysit. I'm not here to eliminate anybody. We're counting on you guys keeping this thing going until closing time tomorrow. Or at least the lunch rush. Do you think you can do that?"
Six pairs of eyes blinked at him.
"Now, I don't know what's been going on all day, but we're down to the six of you, and that's not looking too good. So we're gonna give you some extra support tonight. Okay? No more air horns, lots of coffee. All the same rules are still gonna apply-we're still gonna cut you if you screw up-but if you need somebody to talk to, you let Jenny or me know, okay? If you're not feeling well, we can try to perk you up. Maybe we even let you make a phone call." He seemed to have second thoughts about that one. "Er…maybe." He drummed his fingers on the hood. "So what do you all think?"
"Sounds great, Mitch," Steve said enthusiastically.
Mitch clapped his hands together. "All right! That's what I like to hear! Let's stay awake, and keep this thing running for another 24 hours! You've got another hour and 35 minutes to the next break. Keep your minds and your hands on the car, people!"
"This is weird," Kris said as soon as Mitch had walked away.
"This is awesome," Adam said.
"You think?"
"Oh yeah. This next elimination's gonna be all you."
"What?"
Adam dropped his head on Kris's shoulder like he was exhausted, and whispered, "Start talking to Rose again. Talk about coffee. For the next hour and a half, nothing but coffee. Make her obsessed."
Kris pushed Adam's head away, feigning annoyance. "Why?" he asked under his breath.
"Trust me," Adam smiled.
Kris's eyes flickered up to his with a warmth he hadn't seen in them before. "Mmhm," he said, and got to work.
The spacious food court took on a totally different feel at night. The outdoor dining lights shut off once there were officially no more customers in the mall. That left just Mitch and Jenny manning the long Alderman Ford table and the six of them around the car. Kris was talking more at Rose than with her, babbling about his favorite kinds of coffee. Cynthia and Tyler were done dissecting Inception and stood in stony silence, nothing left in common. And the radio kept pumping pop music…until it suddenly cut out.
Adam caught Tyler's wide eyes at the sudden, unwelcome silence. Kris's monologue trailed off and all six of them shared wary looks. A night without music would be a death sentence.
Adam turned his head to look for Mitch and Jenny, saw Mitch already standing up and punching angrily at his phone. His angry tirade echoed through the empty space.
"Hi? Yeah, this is Mitch with Alderman Ford, we're set up in the food court? Yeah, we have a permit to- Look, the music just turned off. What did you guys- How can it be your routine, when this is opening-fucking-day? We have a permit for 48 hours, and we need the music the whole time- No, I'm not kidding- Then you call her and get her to approve- Well, what the hell else am I supposed to do- Oh yeah, why didn't I think of that? Gee, maybe because you closed RadioShack at 10- This is horseshit. No, I want her to call me- Shit!"
He hung up the phone and glared at the room at large before focusing on his six prisoners. "Uh, hey guys. Sorry 'bout that. We're gonna get the music up again in a few minutes, don't worry." He gave them a thumbs up and started a quiet conference with Jenny that involved a lot of flailing hands.
"We're boned," Tyler sighed.
Cynthia's hands flexed on the hood. Adam could practically hear her teeth gnashing.
Several minutes later, two security guards walked into the food court, gawked at the contestants around the car, and headed over to talk to Mitch at the dealership table. There was more hand-waving, Mitch's voice was getting pretty loud, and then Kris called, "Hey, Jenny?"
"What's the matter?" Adam hissed. Shit, if his alliance partner was in trouble he should've said something.
Jenny ducked away from the angry men and leaned in close to Kris. "Everything okay, honey?" she asked, her tone weirdly condescending for a twenty-something.
"This car comes with an iPod input jack, right? And it's got a fully-charged battery?"
"Yeah?" she guessed, looking unsure.
"Yeah," Kris said firmly, pointing to the dealer's specs under Rose's elbow. "So I have an iPod in my backpack over there. We can roll down the windows and play music on the car's stereo…."
"Oh!" she gasped. She squeezed Kris's arm and said, "I'll be right back," ducking under the ropes and running to intercede in Mitch's battle with security.
"I love you, man," Steve said.
Kris nodded and smiled. "Yeah, cool, man."
"You're my favorite alliance partner," Adam whispered.
"Aww, thanks. You, too."
Jenny brought Kris's backpack, and Mitch brought over the keys, and the security guys took a seat at a table in the corner, kicking up their heels to watch while Jenny said, "Listen up. I'm giving Kris, here, permission to let go of the car for a few minutes so he can set up the music. This does not apply to the rest of you. You all better keep touching this car. I'll be watching you."
"Yes, ma'am," Tyler said, giving her a charming smile.
She did a double-take, as though finally noticing Tyler's insanely perfect cheekbones and green eyes, but shook it off. "Okay. Kris, you can let go now."
Kris took a step away from the car with a relieved sigh, shaking his hands out and doing a few windmills. Jenny unlocked the driver's door and held it open, ushering Kris inside and handing him his backpack.
"I think the adapter's in the glove box. Or maybe in the sunglasses holder," Mitch said.
Adam watched Kris move around the inside of the car through the front windshield, seeing Kris's face light up as he explored each hidden panel and button. "Hey, you," he said, knocking on the glass to get Kris's attention.
Kris looked up, beaming.
"Don't get too comfortable in there," Adam said, a threat in his voice.
Kris stuck his hand out the door and gave him the finger.
Adam grinned and started tapping a 9|8 dance rhythm on the windshield to entertain himself.
When Kris was done, he had The Beatles' Come Together pumping out the lowered windows and his iPod dangling out the driver's side window where he could control it. "Those are some pretty sweet speakers," Adam pointed out.
"Yeah," Kris said. "I'm totally gonna love this when I'm driving up the PCH with the windows down tomorrow."
"Hey, it ain't your car yet," Adam reminded him.
"Yet," Kris agreed, singing through his smile.
Fuck Tyler's silver screen prettiness-Adam would give up one of his regular paying gigs to wake up to Kris's ridiculously hot stubble and soulful voice every morning. He had a passing worry that he was straying into Stockholm Syndrome territory, but decided to ignore that concern when Kris flubbed some lyrics and laughed unselfconsciously.
"Yo, Kris, what you got on that thing?" Steve asked, and Kris started paying attention to his sworn enemy.
Adam let Kris's attention go with one final reminder in his ear: "Don't forget about the coffee."
~
The security guards escorted Jenny back into the food court at a quarter to midnight, the three of them bearing Brew House carry-out coffee boxes. The smell turned heads, and Adam watched Rose to gauge her reaction. The sight of that much coffee had a Pavlovian effect; Rose started fidgeting, her fingers going shaky and lips pinching thin as she tracked its movement.
"Five more minutes, you guys," Kris announced, reading the time off his iPod.
"That smells amazing," Rose said.
"Thank god," Kris agreed. "If I don't get at least three cups I'm gonna pass out soon."
"Yeah," she agreed, mesmerized by the beverage station they were setting up.
When Jenny called to them, "Break time, everybody! Come get your coffee," Rose was the first to let go of the car, practically sprinting over to the table.
"Kris," Adam caught his arm as he started for the coffee himself. "Only one cup, okay? But make sure she drinks at least two."
Kris nodded, and Adam watched his ass weaving between the tables for another few seconds before heading to the bathroom.
"Geez, how good is this stuff?" Adam asked Rose, after he'd traded off coffee-supervision-duty with Kris.
"So good," she agreed, slurping at the bottom of her first cup. "D'you think we can have more than one?"
"Mitch said whatever we need. And they've got enough here to caffeinate a small army. I say go for it."
"I'm gonna," she decided, grabbing the open box.
"Here, freshen mine up, too," Adam said, holding out his half full cup.
By the time Jenny sent them back to the car, Rose had downed two and a half cups of black coffee…and forgotten to use the restroom. "Now what?" Kris asked.
"Now we don't do anything. It'll happen on its own."
Kris's eyebrows said he didn't believe him at first, but half an hour later Rose started looking nervous and crossing her legs urgently, and Kris gave Adam an incredulous, delighted smile. "You are evil," he marveled.
"Mmhm," Adam agreed, watching Rose squirm.
She wet herself an hour later, making a startled whimper and running to the bathroom.
Jenny sauntered up to the car, hands on her hips, and said, "What happened to-" she checked her card, "-Rose?"
"Drank too much coffee," Steve snickered.
"Oh for fuck's sake!" Jenny sighed. "Am I gonna have to ration you people?"
Kris and Adam shrugged innocently.
"I think she'll need a change of clothes," Steve suggested.
"Damn it." Jenny turned on her heels and stomped off toward the bathroom to check on the latest dropout.
The ten minutes following Rose's elimination were the most awkward yet. With no diners or shoppers filling the food court, they could all see Rose's slow, embarrassed walk to the dealership's table, where she signed papers, got back her purse and jacket, and was allowed to sit for a few minutes to rest her feet. The longer Adam watched her, her shoes kicked off and massaging her insteps, the more his own feet throbbed. Shit, he really shouldn't've worn heels. Kris had been right; his lower back was killing him, too.
Kris looked at Rose once, sitting sadly at one of the dining tables while Jenny called her a cab, and he didn't look again.
"Feel bad?" Adam asked quietly.
"No," he said. "But I don't feel good."
"You don't have to do any more if you don't want-"
"No," he insisted. "I want to. This one'll feel better." He jerked his chin toward the trunk.
"Okay. I'm down for whatever. You call the shots."
"Just sing along," Kris said mysteriously.
"That I can do."
Kris and Steve had spent the past hour bonding over Guitar Hero, and Kris had apparently decided this new-found friendship gave Steve the right to choose his own songs. They alternated picking songs for their playlist, a little DJ club of two. Kris ignored Tyler's requests for 30 Seconds to Mars, ignored Cynthia's request for Train. When prompted by a discreet kick to the shin, Adam begged for some Lady Gaga, and Kris rudely ignored that, too. Only Steve got to request any songs-mostly late 80's-early 90's rock-and he basked in the favoritism.
Steve and Kris talked about the concerts they'd been to, their favorite live bands and venues, their latest downloads, sounding for all the world like they were becoming the best of friends. It was completely revolting. Adam was completely delighted by Kris's acting skills.
"Oh, hey, how 'bout this one?" Kris asked Steve as he chose the next song, scrolling through his iPod with his right thumb while he leaned on his left hand.
Van Halen's Jump started playing, and Steve pumped a fist in the air. "Hell yeah, man! You've been holding out on me!"
It was, of course, Kris who started the jumping on the chorus, daring Tyler and Adam to get into it with him. Steve didn't need any encouragement. Adam could see the competitive spark in his eyes, the way he braced himself with both hands and tried to jump higher than everyone else each time. It was a pretty good strategy, Adam admitted, getting the jock to show off while concentrating on the music.
But Adam didn't guess Kris's true intention until it was already done-'til the second chorus ended and Kris pointed at Steve, yelled, "Guitar solo!" when Eddie Van Halen's riff started playing.
Steve leaned back in a full-body air guitar solo and played his heart out, biting his lip and thrashing his head, working the whammy bar for maximum points.
"Hey!" Cynthia said.
"Hey!" Jenny yelled from the column she was leaning against, only ten feet away.
And Steve dropped his hands, stomped his foot, spun in a circle, and slapped the trunk, yelling, "Fuck!"
Cynthia and Tyler looked on gleefully as Steve railed against his elimination, grabbing his hair and yelling that this wasn't fair. And then Tyler's gaze slid back to Kris, and Cynthia's followed, suddenly worried.
As they should be-because sweet, innocent-faced Kris had just proven himself to be every inch as sneaky as Adam, and Adam felt a niggle of doubt that maybe Kris wasn't the best person to take to the one-on-one finale, after all.
But then Kris gave a satisfied sigh and turned his back on Steve's temper tantrum, looked up at Adam with the most delightfully-shy, evil smirk imaginable, and Adam couldn't help it; he threw his head back and laughed as loud as he wanted.
The "let's all be friends" portion of the evening was officially over. Kris switched the iPod to a vaguely-country mix while he and Adam took turns feeding each other scraps of lyrics, challenging each other to sing the source. Tyler looked like he wanted to join in, but Adam was done playing friendly. He made damn sure Tyler felt excluded from their club. It was down to two-on-two, and the man and woman across from them knew it.
Tyler and Cynthia made a few earnest efforts to speak to one another, doubtless trying to form an alliance of their own. But when Tyler talked about the kind of roles he was hoping to get, Cynthia couldn't make herself look interested. And Tyler couldn't relate to Cynthia's stories about her kids. They were a disaster, and definitely at a disadvantage.
They looked exhausted and in pain, but no more so than Adam felt. Everyone was in the same boat, shifting from foot to foot, lifting up on their toes, making pitiful groaning noises every once in a while. The coffee could only do so much; discomfort and fatigue had set in, sapping all of their energy and concentration.
After they all used the bathrooms at 4 a.m., Mitch called them over to a cluster of dining tables and sat them down for an inspirational lecture of sorts.
"Okay, folks. You're down to the final four. I want all of you to think about that-you each have a 1-in-4 chance of leaving here with a new car. So whatever you gotta do to buckle down and concentrate, you gotta do it. You want this car. I know you want this car. And all you gotta do is concentrate on your hands. Now, I know these last four hours've been rough. I'm bored as hell sitting over there, and I've got NetFlix Watch Now. But you guys gotta hang in there. Okay?" He left them with a rallying go get 'em, kid fist punch, and headed back to his laptop at the dealership table.
"Well," Adam said. "I'm inspired."
"I'd be inspired if we could get some food," Kris said. "These power bars aren't doing it for me anymore."
"Heh. You said 'doing it.'"
Kris snickered. "I did. Awesome."
"I would murder for a tofu burger right now."
"Chicken fried steak."
"Garlic stir-fried seitan and eggplant."
"Pizza with sausage and pepperoni," Kris said, his voice going dreamy.
Adam groaned, "Fuck, you're killing me."
"You'd…." Kris looked at him, confused. "You're not vegetarian?"
"Fuck no. Not on principle, anyway," he corrected. "I just can't afford to eat that stuff anymore." He slapped his ass as they stood up, tight as a drum in jeans he never could have fit into back in college, let alone high school.
"Get out," Kris said, following him back to the car. "You're worried about your weight?"
"Yeah?" His tone was a defensive, 'Why not?'
"But you're, I mean, you're-" There was a crash as Kris walked into a metal chair, and Adam turned around to find him rubbing his knee and wincing.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. Just…. I got distracted."
"You're not allowed to lose it on me. I need you to be able to function."
"I can; I'm good. Just. Yeah."
"Adam, Kris, let's go!" Jenny called.
"Come on," Adam said, tugging on Kris's shoulder and marching him into position.
Adam convinced Kris to change his alt-country playlist when they were back at the car. Technically, Kris didn't require much convincing. He pulled his iPod out of the front seat, Adam stuck his lip out in a pout, and after a moment's hesitation Kris dialed in some Queen.
"I could seriously kiss you right now," Adam grinned, his hips rocking with the bass.
"Um," Kris said.
"Give me your body, yeah," Adam sang, and Kris ducked his head down and tapped along on the roof.
~
The uneasy calm between the two sides of the car lasted through the rest of the night and into the dawn. The lightening of the sky should have brought a sense of hope, but to Adam it felt like time was running out. He wasn't prepared to face another full day of standing in a bustling food court, trying to out-think and out-maneuver three people.
Mitch came around again just before 6 a.m. to tell them, "The mall's gonna reopen at 9, and we're gonna have a lot of traffic through here, hopefully twice what we got yesterday. A lot of people are gonna see the car, and they're gonna see you. And that's a problem, 'cause-to be honest-you all look like a bunch of homeless people right now. And we don't want potential buyers thinking homeless people drive our cars. So at 7:40, we're gonna give you a longer break. You can wash up, shave, fix your makeup-Jenny's got electric razors for you, and some CoverGirl cosmetics. And lots of deodorant. Do what you gotta do to look human."
"You're an asshole," Cynthia said to Mitch's face.
"Oof," Adam winced.
Mitch's chin jerked to the side in a weird kind of stress-twitch before he found a smile again. "Three more hours 'til show time. You can do it, people!" He tapped the hood as if they needed any more reminders where their hands were supposed to stay, and left.
"Damn, woman," Tyler hissed.
"I don't know where he gets off!" Cynthia began, finally finding a target for her frustration.
Adam turned around, sandwiching his hands between his ass and the car, and noticed Kris scratching at the stubble shading his jaw. "What d'you think-you gonna shave?"
"Yeah."
"Me, too. D'you think they'll let me use the makeup? Mine's almost all worn off." He wriggled a hand out from behind him and rubbed under his eyes, frowning at the traces of fallen mascara and eyeliner that left dark smudges on his fingers. He rubbed them away on his black jeans.
"They have to. Otherwise it's discrimination," Kris said seriously.
"You'll totally have my back," Adam nodded. "You and me, fighting for our right to Jenny's free eyeliner."
"Well, your right," Kris said. "I don't think I could pull it off."
Adam reached over and tipped Kris's chin up, stubble a soft buzz against his fingertips. Kris in eyeliner…he could picture it, and he liked what he was seeing. "Oh, I think you could," he said, low. "I really do. Yeah."
"O- Okay," Kris agreed faintly.
"You ever worn any on stage? Your eyes would…they would really stand out. They'd look hot."
"You think so?" Kris said, voice breaking into a whisper, his eyes saucer-round.
"Oh yeah." He let his fingers slide along Kris's jaw, brushing up toward his ear, and then realized with a shock what he was doing.
Adam pulled his hand back sharply, got it tucked safely away behind him, and determinedly ordered himself to stop trying to seduce his straight ally.
Fuck, it was late. No, it was early. His thoughts had become more and more scattered since Steve's elimination; they kept flying away from him, making it hard to focus on any one thing. He tried to think about how his life would change if he had a car, if he didn't have to beg his friends for rides all the time. He tried picturing his lowest moments, wearing pieces of his performance costumes on the bus because they were too bulky to fit in a garment bag. The steel mesh devil-wings that weighed a ton and didn't allow him to sit down the whole ride downtown. He'd been exhausted by the time he'd arrived at the theatre, and the stares and whispers he'd gotten had made his skin crawl.
But even those thoughts couldn't hold his attention. It was just easier to focus on Kris, for all that that was crossing a line he'd promised himself not to cross. He couldn't drive Kris away yet-not when there were still two opponents standing across from them. He would not turn on Kris before the end.
Shit. It was late and it was early and he was falling apart. He could act alert, he could keep his hands on the car, but his brain wasn't in the game anymore, and that left him vulnerable. No way would he last another 12 hours without somebody tricking his ass. Or even worse, just up and forgetting which hand was supposed to be touching the car when he needed to scratch his balls.
Now that the seed of self-doubt had been planted, it made Adam desperate to fight back. Things needed to start happening, and soon, before anyone realized how scattered he'd become.
He glanced over his shoulder. Tyler wanted to be an actor. Adam was willing to bet Tyler had countless movie scenes memorized. They might be able to trick him into reciting a few-preferably ones with a lot of hand gestures. Cynthia looked exhausted and angry. She had finished her diatribe against Mitch, but she was still worked up. He could pick a fight with her, easy. He just had to push the right buttons.
And he had a pretty good idea what one of them was.
Adam cleared his throat, and Kris leaned closer to ask, "What's the play?"
Kris's automatic support bolstered his spirits. "Okay, this…this is gonna sound crazy. And like I'm hitting on you. But I'm totally not," Adam warned.
"Okay."
"I wanna kiss you."
"What?"
"I'm pretty sure it'll piss Cynthia off."
"You're 'pretty sure'?"
"Yeah. And I mean, you've kissed guys before. So it wouldn't be…."
Kris cocked an amused eyebrow. "Be what? Say it."
"Uh…unprecedented?"
"Okay," he said, starting to smile.
"Okay?"
"Okay. You can kiss me."
"You…. Seriously?"
"Yeah. If you think it'll work, I can take one for the team." At Adam's stunned expression, he shrugged. "I trust you."
Kris was officially the best alliance partner he could've asked for. "Okay," Adam said, relieved.
"How should I stand?" Kris asked, turning his body toward Adam. "This way-"
Adam caught his chin, pulled his face up and kissed him without warning, sliding his free hand around the back of Kris's neck to keep him there, at just the right angle to show Cynthia his tongue sliding over Kris's lips. Kris's body stiffened for a moment and then melted against him, one hand sliding up Adam's arm to clutch his shoulder. Kris made a surprised whimpering sound as he opened his mouth to Adam, groaned when their tongues met.
"That's right," Adam whispered, encouraging Kris's play-acting, and dove in for another kiss. Kris pulled on his shoulder and moaned louder, playing it brilliantly, tongue chasing after Adam's when he eased off.
Adam gripped Kris's hair to keep him still, pulled back enough to peek across the car. Cynthia was gone.
He straightened up, fingers relaxing to massage Kris's neck absently as he looked for their opponent. She was standing in front of Mitch's table, waving her arms and gesturing back at them. If he wanted to, Adam could maybe have made out what she was saying over the sound of Beck's Soul of a Man pumping through the speakers, but he really didn't care.
"Score," he grinned.
"Oh my god," Kris sighed. "I can't believe that worked."
"Fuck yeah."
Kris leaned in close and whispered where only Adam could hear, "D'you think Tyler looks upset?"
Tyler certainly didn't look happy. He looked kind of freaked out, actually, wild-eyes looking anywhere but at the two of them. "Yeah, maybe," Adam said.
"Then let's go for a double," Kris breathed, and then dragged his lips over the studs in Adam's earlobe.
Adam shuddered and found Kris's mouth, tried to concentrate on the feel of the smooth paint under his left palm. It was hard to remember that it was all an act; that it was part of the game and there was something at stake other than mutual pleasure. Kris's body was hot against him, his tongue so eager and determined. Adam tried to remind himself that the noises Kris was making were just an act, but fuck if they weren't convincing. And addictive.
He did his best to contribute, gave a few exaggerated grunts when Kris scraped his teeth over his lower lip. There was some kind of choking noise coming from the other side of the car, where apparently Tyler was gagging at the sight of two men making out.
If just kissing could freak him out…. "Kris, Kris," Adam said against his lips.
He mumbled something that was probably "What?" or possibly "Not now."
Adam fisted his hand in Kris's hair to get his attention. "What say we put on a real show," he growled, tipping his head slightly in Tyler's direction.
Kris nodded breathlessly and Adam growled again, crouched down where Tyler couldn't see him and rubbed his face against Kris's flat, hard stomach, cotton flannel soft against his lips. "Oh Jesus," Kris gasped, hand resting on Adam's head. "Oh God."
It wasn't necessary to go any further-Kris could probably pull off a convincing orgasm all by himself. But since Adam was down there anyway…. He ducked lower, licked at the denim over his zipper, one hand on Kris's knee, the other on the side panel.
"Please," Kris whimpered. "Please."
Listening to him was driving Adam a little crazy. It was all for show, all for Tyler's benefit, until Kris pushed Adam's head even lower, and his cheek rubbed against Kris's crotch, and Adam felt the hardness in his jeans.
"God, do it," Kris said, bucking a little, and holy fucking hell, Kris was turned on for real. And begging like Adam's favorite kind of porn.
All thoughts of Tyler went out the window. Adam shoved Kris's hip back against the car, stood up and crowded the shorter man against the driver's door. Kris's right hand grabbed the side mirror, Adam got a good grip on the door frame, and when he leaned in this time, Kris moaned.
"Do you know what you do to me?" Adam demanded, holding his lips just out of reach as he pressed a thigh between Kris's, started grinding up against him.
"Fuck," Kris panted, writhing under him, blindingly hot as his eyes fell closed. Adam had to dive in and kiss him again, wet and out-of-control, the rocking of their hips forceful enough to rock the whole car.
If they weren't in public he would turn Kris around, get his pants down and fuck him here and now, laid out on the hood screaming with that pretty voice of his. But Kris's button-down shirt was just long enough, untucked and loose over his hips. Adam fumbled his hand between them, unthreaded Kris's belt buckle.
"Yeah," Kris said, begging with his hand and lips, bucking up against him.
He kept their bodies close, so close no one could see what he was doing as he thumbed open the button of Kris's jeans. Kris's breath hitched as he slid the zipper down slow, Kris panting against his skin, arm looped around his neck for support.
"I can't believe this…" Adam groaned as he twisted his hand, worked his fingers into Kris's open pants, under his boxers. His fingers brushed hot skin, and Kris stiffened, his whole body jerking as Adam wrapped his hand around Kris's cock and squeezed once, twice. Kris came undone, crying out as he came, as Adam jerked him through it and mumbled praise into his mouth.
Kris gulped for air, face red and slack, forehead beaded with sweat, mouth-open and eyes closed, and Adam couldn't resist all that beauty, all his. He wiped his hand on Kris's shirttail, shoved his fingers in Kris's hair again, tipped the shorter man's head back for a deep kiss, tongue settling in for a long exploration. Kris shivered and twitched under him, sucked on Adam's tongue and tugged at Adam's t-shirt like he hadn't had enough.
Adam dragged his lips across Kris's cheek, up to his eyebrow, and said roughly, "You're so fucking beautiful like this, baby. So hot."
Kris's hand slid lower, down to Adam's waist and inward, inching toward Adam's fly, and then there were hands on Adam's shoulders trying to pull him away. Adam resisted-it couldn't be time for a break already, and Kris was still his….
But Mitch was walking up to the car, and Tyler was already sitting at a table, and it was just him and Kris left, the final two. Kris blinked up at him, wrecked and confused, his hand still gripping the side-mirror, and Adam finally noticed that both his hands were laced through Kris's hair.
"Oh," he said, helpless anger washing over him as he let Jenny tug him away from his ally.
She unhooked the velvet rope and pushed him ahead of her, over to a dining table next to her own work space. "Sit here. I'll get you your things." She wasn't meeting his eyes.
"Congratulations, Mr. Allen," Mitch said loudly.
Adam's bitterness triggered a suspicion that he'd just been played. But as much as he wanted to blame his loss on someone else-on Kris-Kris could barely stand. He didn't seem to have any clue that his pants were hanging open, that cum was drying on his shirt; he was staring at Adam like he didn't even care that he'd just won, or that Mitch was shaking his hand and talking to him with a sour expression.
Adam smiled ruefully and cracked open the bottle of water Jenny handed him. "What happened to Tyler?" he made himself ask her.
"He left his assigned place," she said, still not looking at him. "He was trying to…um…get a better view."
Adam's head whipped around to Tyler's table on his left, and he caught the actor looking at him with naked hunger and awe on his face. Huh. He hadn't expected that.
Adam's feet were throbbing, his back ached, and a headache swooped in out of nowhere. He glared down at his boots, wondering if he should risk taking them off to uncramp his toes…or just slice his legs off at the knees and never walk again.
Jenny dropped his phone and wallet on the table and offered him some coffee for the road. Adam ignored her, deep in a sulk about having to call Brad to come get him. His ex would be insufferable. Adam could try to distract Brad with boasts about groping the cute straight boy, but Brad would see right through those, would cut straight to Adam's embarrassment at losing his head again. Blinded by another pretty face-god, story of his L.A. love life. When the hell would he learn to use his head?
The car stereo finally cut out a few minutes later, and when Adam looked back there was a little ceremony going on. Kris was signing some papers, and then Jenny photographed him accepting the same set of keys from Mitch that they'd had in the ignition all night. It seemed Kris had finally recovered-he looked more alert, and his belt buckle wasn't peeking out below his shirt anymore. His hair was still a wreck, though. And yeah, Adam remembered doing that now; the move that had cost him the win. He'd always been a hair-puller. He liked short guys, liked how easy it was to grab their hair….
Fuck. Adam adjusted himself and sighed. He wasn't calling Brad or going anywhere before he found a private place to jerk off…or maybe just dragged Tyler into the bathroom and made sure they both got a happy ending. The actor was still hanging around, maybe hoping for exactly that opportunity. Adam checked the time on his phone-6:25-and gritted his teeth, watched Kris shifting as his jeans became uncomfortable, cum sticky in his boxers.
Kris…who was unexpectedly standing in front of him, shiny new keys in his hand and a nervous heat in his eyes, saying, "Hi, Adam."
"Congratulations," he muttered.
"Thanks. Um." Kris dug his hand into his pocket, inadvertently drawing attention to his hips, and reminding Adam exactly how good it had felt to rock up against them. "So…you look like you could use a ride home? I was thinking…."
Adam was almost tempted to accept the lift Kris was working up the courage to offer, even if all that was on the table was friendship. Something about Kris's slow grin and hidden cleverness had rubbed Adam the right way-multiple right ways, in fact-and he was definitely someone Adam would hang out with again.
But Adam was beyond exhausted, his feet were swollen (he would probably have to cut them out of the boots, which was just one more loss this month), and his dick had just cost him the car he needed so badly; he wasn't about to get over his defeat that easily.
"The saying is 'graceful loser,' not 'winner,'" Adam answered, his pride stinging. "It's nice you feel bad about beating me, but I'm not helpless, you know."
Kris flushed, but he wasn't driven away by Adam's bitchiness. "Actually I was gonna ask your help." He shot a look at the red candy car over his shoulder, looked back at Adam and bit his lip, shifting on equally sore feet. "…breaking in the backseat."
It took Adam's brain a few seconds to adjust from bitterness to astonishment to impossibly turned on. "Oh," he said softly, "oh," watching the possibilities stretch out before him like the new day outside. "Well," he said, a slow, delighted smile curling his lips up. "Now that you mention it…."
Kris started to grin. "Yeah?"
"I could definitely use a ride. You got time for the scenic route?"
Fandom: American Idol (Adam/Kris)
Genre: modern AU
Word Count: 15,000 [complete]
Rating: R
Summary: Adam and Kris never tried out for American Idol. Instead, in August 2010, they meet in a very different kind of competition, trying to win a new car in an all-day dealership challenge. But can they keep their hands on the car instead of each other?
Back to Part I
The sun was shimmering low over the ocean, bathing the whole food court in blinding orange light as Adam and Kris leaned on the roof of the car. There was a near-collision between diners at the glass doors leading to the outside tables, and another near-miss in front of the trash cans, and Adam murmured, "They maybe should've tinted those windows."
"But then they'd lose this neat Jerry Bruckheimer lighting."
Adam snickered. "How long've you been in Los Angeles? You're already speaking like a native."
"About three years. There wasn't anything going on in Arkansas," he shrugged. "I figured, why not give L.A. a chance to impress me."
"And were you impressed?"
"I'm still here, aren't I?"
"Well, maybe you're trying to win a set of wheels so you can get back where you came from."
Kris settled his chin over his fingers and sighed. "No. I'm not goin' anywhere."
"Aren't you supposed to say 'I ain't goin' nowhere?'" Adam teased in a terrible imitation of a Southern hick.
"Oh, right. You're right. Ah'm s'posed to talk like I ain't had me no propuh education."
"Edu-muh-cation," Adam corrected, entranced by Kris's thicker, exaggerated drawl. He should not be encouraging this-Kris's light accent was already too appealing. And the heavier twang on a pretty twink…it was totally his kryptonite.
"Show 'nuff," Kris nodded his head a little. "We ain't gots no edumuhcation where ah'm from."
Adam noticed a group of young guys walking through the food court, laughing loudly and disturbing the dinner crowd, and he whispered to Kris, "Hold on, I'll be right back."
Kris looked over at the kids and wrinkled his forehead in confusion.
"What's so funny?" Adam asked Jasmine, drawing her attention to the kids cracking up as they walked past the car.
"I don't know," she said.
"They were pointing at us just a second ago," he said, pleased to see the light of paranoia come on in her eyes.
Jasmine straightened up, made sure her breasts were still inside her shirt and started touching her weave nervously. "At us?"
"Yeah. Wait…." Adam leaned to his left, like he was looking behind her, and then gasped, "Oh no, honey, your skirt's all caught up in your panties!"
"What?" she gasped in horror, hands flying back to tug her skirt down. "Wait-" she said, realizing too late that her skirt was fine. That she'd just been set up. "You asshole!" she wailed, just before the air horn blasted.
Once Jasmine had been escorted away, Adam laid himself out across the windshield again, propped up on an elbow, and said, casual, "Where were we?" to Kris.
Kris was staring at him in awe. "Um," he said. "I'm glad you're on my side."
Adam smiled.
"For now," Kris added hastily.
"For now," Adam agreed. "So, when are you gonna take care of Steve? 'Cause I've got some ideas for him if you-"
Kris looked at the agent still standing at the trunk, seeming pleased with Jasmine's elimination. "No, I've got him. I'm just…waiting 'til the right moment."
"All right. How about Tyler?"
"What about him?"
Adam eyed the good-looking guy chatting with Cynthia directly across the car from them. "You tell me. What's his deal?"
"He just got his SAG card, he's between auditions, and he's trying to win this car to impress his girlfriend."
"Girlfriend, huh?"
"Aww, disappointed?" Kris smirked.
"No, no. Not my type. But I wouldn't've been surprised if it'd been a boyfriend."
Kris studied Tyler closely. "What, is your bat-gaydar pinging or something?"
Adam shrugged. "Nah. But statistically speaking, actors in L.A. are almost never 100% straight."
Kris snorted. "Wow, talk about a gross generalization."
"No, it's like…. There's a lot of competition for roles, and not all the casting directors are women. It's the economics of flirting, that's all."
"So if he flirts with guys, he can't be straight?"
"I didn't say that. Just…he's not as straight as you."
"Oh, 'cause I'm 100% straight."
Something about Kris's amused tone got Adam's undivided attention. "What?"
"Nothing," he said innocently.
"That was sarcasm. You just said you were straight sarcastically."
"I thought you were the one saying I was straight."
"Wait." Adam stood up to his full height, looking down at Kris slumped across the roof. "Are you fucking with my head?"
"Why would I do that?" Kris rolled his head over so he could blink up at him. "You're my alliance partner."
"Yeah. But I'm starting to think you might be a sneaky little fucker."
Kris smiled, showing all his teeth. "Really? Awesome!"
"Now tell me why you're yanking my chain."
He stood up to face Adam. "You're the one making all these assumptions about people's sexuality…."
"And you got offended," Adam guessed.
"Well, if you're gonna talk about me, I'd kinda prefer you get it right."
Adam opened his mouth to toss off a casual comeback, and then realized he had none. "I'm not…. Wow."
"You doin' okay, there?" Kris was having way too much fun at his expense.
"Okay then," Adam scowled. "Set me straight." Kris snickered again and Adam rolled his eyes. "Fuck off. You're not gay," he said with complete conviction. "You said 'girlfriends.'"
Kris nodded. "But I'm not totally straight, either."
"Tell you what. Since it feels like you're trying to teach me some kind of lesson here, why don't you tell me how you define your sexuality? That way I'll stop getting it wrong."
Kris actually had the gall to blush when the question was put to him. "Um. I'm straight…."
"Uh huh," Adam nodded, determined to wait him out.
"But…I've made out with a few guys."
"In what state of sobriety?" Adam asked, suddenly guessing where this was going.
"I get kinda...affectionate when I'm drunk," Kris admitted. "And my band mates are pretty good-looking."
"So you're, like, a three-beer queer?"
He blushed even harder. "Sometimes only two beers?"
Adam laughed and threw an arm around Kris's shoulders, dragging him into a friendly headlock. "Aww, the straight-boy likes boy-lips," he cooed.
"Hey," Kris tried to shove him off. "No judging!"
"I'm not judging," Adam said indignantly, letting him go. "I think it's adorable. But with that build up, I thought you were gonna tell me you'd been sucking cock since the 9th grade."
Kris bit his lip and looked at his feet, and Adam actually gasped like an old maid.
"Kris! You do not suck cock!"
Kris looked up, laughter dancing in his wicked brown eyes. "Well, not with that attitude I don't."
"Excuse me," Cynthia said firmly. They looked over to see Cynthia and Tyler staring at them, scandalized. "This is mixed company."
Adam couldn't help it; he giggled. Kris looked at him and burst out laughing while their competitors glared at them.
~
The food court stopped serving food at 9:30, and at 10:00 mall security started asking the few shoppers still in the food court to leave.
Once the last spectators were gone, Joey Martinez waved to all of them on his way out the door, "G'night, guys. Uh, good luck! Hang in there! I'll see you all tomorrow, hopefully."
And then a new Alderman Ford rep slid under the velvet rope and put his hands on the car where Laura the cheerleader had stood. "Hey, guys," he said with a sympathetic tone, "how's everybody holding up?"
"Eh," Tyler said. That sufficed for everybody else.
"Okay, look," the new guy said, "I'm Mitch; I'm the VP at Alderman's. And I'm here to babysit you guys tonight. And I mean babysit. I'm not here to eliminate anybody. We're counting on you guys keeping this thing going until closing time tomorrow. Or at least the lunch rush. Do you think you can do that?"
Six pairs of eyes blinked at him.
"Now, I don't know what's been going on all day, but we're down to the six of you, and that's not looking too good. So we're gonna give you some extra support tonight. Okay? No more air horns, lots of coffee. All the same rules are still gonna apply-we're still gonna cut you if you screw up-but if you need somebody to talk to, you let Jenny or me know, okay? If you're not feeling well, we can try to perk you up. Maybe we even let you make a phone call." He seemed to have second thoughts about that one. "Er…maybe." He drummed his fingers on the hood. "So what do you all think?"
"Sounds great, Mitch," Steve said enthusiastically.
Mitch clapped his hands together. "All right! That's what I like to hear! Let's stay awake, and keep this thing running for another 24 hours! You've got another hour and 35 minutes to the next break. Keep your minds and your hands on the car, people!"
"This is weird," Kris said as soon as Mitch had walked away.
"This is awesome," Adam said.
"You think?"
"Oh yeah. This next elimination's gonna be all you."
"What?"
Adam dropped his head on Kris's shoulder like he was exhausted, and whispered, "Start talking to Rose again. Talk about coffee. For the next hour and a half, nothing but coffee. Make her obsessed."
Kris pushed Adam's head away, feigning annoyance. "Why?" he asked under his breath.
"Trust me," Adam smiled.
Kris's eyes flickered up to his with a warmth he hadn't seen in them before. "Mmhm," he said, and got to work.
The spacious food court took on a totally different feel at night. The outdoor dining lights shut off once there were officially no more customers in the mall. That left just Mitch and Jenny manning the long Alderman Ford table and the six of them around the car. Kris was talking more at Rose than with her, babbling about his favorite kinds of coffee. Cynthia and Tyler were done dissecting Inception and stood in stony silence, nothing left in common. And the radio kept pumping pop music…until it suddenly cut out.
Adam caught Tyler's wide eyes at the sudden, unwelcome silence. Kris's monologue trailed off and all six of them shared wary looks. A night without music would be a death sentence.
Adam turned his head to look for Mitch and Jenny, saw Mitch already standing up and punching angrily at his phone. His angry tirade echoed through the empty space.
"Hi? Yeah, this is Mitch with Alderman Ford, we're set up in the food court? Yeah, we have a permit to- Look, the music just turned off. What did you guys- How can it be your routine, when this is opening-fucking-day? We have a permit for 48 hours, and we need the music the whole time- No, I'm not kidding- Then you call her and get her to approve- Well, what the hell else am I supposed to do- Oh yeah, why didn't I think of that? Gee, maybe because you closed RadioShack at 10- This is horseshit. No, I want her to call me- Shit!"
He hung up the phone and glared at the room at large before focusing on his six prisoners. "Uh, hey guys. Sorry 'bout that. We're gonna get the music up again in a few minutes, don't worry." He gave them a thumbs up and started a quiet conference with Jenny that involved a lot of flailing hands.
"We're boned," Tyler sighed.
Cynthia's hands flexed on the hood. Adam could practically hear her teeth gnashing.
Several minutes later, two security guards walked into the food court, gawked at the contestants around the car, and headed over to talk to Mitch at the dealership table. There was more hand-waving, Mitch's voice was getting pretty loud, and then Kris called, "Hey, Jenny?"
"What's the matter?" Adam hissed. Shit, if his alliance partner was in trouble he should've said something.
Jenny ducked away from the angry men and leaned in close to Kris. "Everything okay, honey?" she asked, her tone weirdly condescending for a twenty-something.
"This car comes with an iPod input jack, right? And it's got a fully-charged battery?"
"Yeah?" she guessed, looking unsure.
"Yeah," Kris said firmly, pointing to the dealer's specs under Rose's elbow. "So I have an iPod in my backpack over there. We can roll down the windows and play music on the car's stereo…."
"Oh!" she gasped. She squeezed Kris's arm and said, "I'll be right back," ducking under the ropes and running to intercede in Mitch's battle with security.
"I love you, man," Steve said.
Kris nodded and smiled. "Yeah, cool, man."
"You're my favorite alliance partner," Adam whispered.
"Aww, thanks. You, too."
Jenny brought Kris's backpack, and Mitch brought over the keys, and the security guys took a seat at a table in the corner, kicking up their heels to watch while Jenny said, "Listen up. I'm giving Kris, here, permission to let go of the car for a few minutes so he can set up the music. This does not apply to the rest of you. You all better keep touching this car. I'll be watching you."
"Yes, ma'am," Tyler said, giving her a charming smile.
She did a double-take, as though finally noticing Tyler's insanely perfect cheekbones and green eyes, but shook it off. "Okay. Kris, you can let go now."
Kris took a step away from the car with a relieved sigh, shaking his hands out and doing a few windmills. Jenny unlocked the driver's door and held it open, ushering Kris inside and handing him his backpack.
"I think the adapter's in the glove box. Or maybe in the sunglasses holder," Mitch said.
Adam watched Kris move around the inside of the car through the front windshield, seeing Kris's face light up as he explored each hidden panel and button. "Hey, you," he said, knocking on the glass to get Kris's attention.
Kris looked up, beaming.
"Don't get too comfortable in there," Adam said, a threat in his voice.
Kris stuck his hand out the door and gave him the finger.
Adam grinned and started tapping a 9|8 dance rhythm on the windshield to entertain himself.
When Kris was done, he had The Beatles' Come Together pumping out the lowered windows and his iPod dangling out the driver's side window where he could control it. "Those are some pretty sweet speakers," Adam pointed out.
"Yeah," Kris said. "I'm totally gonna love this when I'm driving up the PCH with the windows down tomorrow."
"Hey, it ain't your car yet," Adam reminded him.
"Yet," Kris agreed, singing through his smile.
Fuck Tyler's silver screen prettiness-Adam would give up one of his regular paying gigs to wake up to Kris's ridiculously hot stubble and soulful voice every morning. He had a passing worry that he was straying into Stockholm Syndrome territory, but decided to ignore that concern when Kris flubbed some lyrics and laughed unselfconsciously.
"Yo, Kris, what you got on that thing?" Steve asked, and Kris started paying attention to his sworn enemy.
Adam let Kris's attention go with one final reminder in his ear: "Don't forget about the coffee."
~
The security guards escorted Jenny back into the food court at a quarter to midnight, the three of them bearing Brew House carry-out coffee boxes. The smell turned heads, and Adam watched Rose to gauge her reaction. The sight of that much coffee had a Pavlovian effect; Rose started fidgeting, her fingers going shaky and lips pinching thin as she tracked its movement.
"Five more minutes, you guys," Kris announced, reading the time off his iPod.
"That smells amazing," Rose said.
"Thank god," Kris agreed. "If I don't get at least three cups I'm gonna pass out soon."
"Yeah," she agreed, mesmerized by the beverage station they were setting up.
When Jenny called to them, "Break time, everybody! Come get your coffee," Rose was the first to let go of the car, practically sprinting over to the table.
"Kris," Adam caught his arm as he started for the coffee himself. "Only one cup, okay? But make sure she drinks at least two."
Kris nodded, and Adam watched his ass weaving between the tables for another few seconds before heading to the bathroom.
"Geez, how good is this stuff?" Adam asked Rose, after he'd traded off coffee-supervision-duty with Kris.
"So good," she agreed, slurping at the bottom of her first cup. "D'you think we can have more than one?"
"Mitch said whatever we need. And they've got enough here to caffeinate a small army. I say go for it."
"I'm gonna," she decided, grabbing the open box.
"Here, freshen mine up, too," Adam said, holding out his half full cup.
By the time Jenny sent them back to the car, Rose had downed two and a half cups of black coffee…and forgotten to use the restroom. "Now what?" Kris asked.
"Now we don't do anything. It'll happen on its own."
Kris's eyebrows said he didn't believe him at first, but half an hour later Rose started looking nervous and crossing her legs urgently, and Kris gave Adam an incredulous, delighted smile. "You are evil," he marveled.
"Mmhm," Adam agreed, watching Rose squirm.
She wet herself an hour later, making a startled whimper and running to the bathroom.
Jenny sauntered up to the car, hands on her hips, and said, "What happened to-" she checked her card, "-Rose?"
"Drank too much coffee," Steve snickered.
"Oh for fuck's sake!" Jenny sighed. "Am I gonna have to ration you people?"
Kris and Adam shrugged innocently.
"I think she'll need a change of clothes," Steve suggested.
"Damn it." Jenny turned on her heels and stomped off toward the bathroom to check on the latest dropout.
The ten minutes following Rose's elimination were the most awkward yet. With no diners or shoppers filling the food court, they could all see Rose's slow, embarrassed walk to the dealership's table, where she signed papers, got back her purse and jacket, and was allowed to sit for a few minutes to rest her feet. The longer Adam watched her, her shoes kicked off and massaging her insteps, the more his own feet throbbed. Shit, he really shouldn't've worn heels. Kris had been right; his lower back was killing him, too.
Kris looked at Rose once, sitting sadly at one of the dining tables while Jenny called her a cab, and he didn't look again.
"Feel bad?" Adam asked quietly.
"No," he said. "But I don't feel good."
"You don't have to do any more if you don't want-"
"No," he insisted. "I want to. This one'll feel better." He jerked his chin toward the trunk.
"Okay. I'm down for whatever. You call the shots."
"Just sing along," Kris said mysteriously.
"That I can do."
Kris and Steve had spent the past hour bonding over Guitar Hero, and Kris had apparently decided this new-found friendship gave Steve the right to choose his own songs. They alternated picking songs for their playlist, a little DJ club of two. Kris ignored Tyler's requests for 30 Seconds to Mars, ignored Cynthia's request for Train. When prompted by a discreet kick to the shin, Adam begged for some Lady Gaga, and Kris rudely ignored that, too. Only Steve got to request any songs-mostly late 80's-early 90's rock-and he basked in the favoritism.
Steve and Kris talked about the concerts they'd been to, their favorite live bands and venues, their latest downloads, sounding for all the world like they were becoming the best of friends. It was completely revolting. Adam was completely delighted by Kris's acting skills.
"Oh, hey, how 'bout this one?" Kris asked Steve as he chose the next song, scrolling through his iPod with his right thumb while he leaned on his left hand.
Van Halen's Jump started playing, and Steve pumped a fist in the air. "Hell yeah, man! You've been holding out on me!"
It was, of course, Kris who started the jumping on the chorus, daring Tyler and Adam to get into it with him. Steve didn't need any encouragement. Adam could see the competitive spark in his eyes, the way he braced himself with both hands and tried to jump higher than everyone else each time. It was a pretty good strategy, Adam admitted, getting the jock to show off while concentrating on the music.
But Adam didn't guess Kris's true intention until it was already done-'til the second chorus ended and Kris pointed at Steve, yelled, "Guitar solo!" when Eddie Van Halen's riff started playing.
Steve leaned back in a full-body air guitar solo and played his heart out, biting his lip and thrashing his head, working the whammy bar for maximum points.
"Hey!" Cynthia said.
"Hey!" Jenny yelled from the column she was leaning against, only ten feet away.
And Steve dropped his hands, stomped his foot, spun in a circle, and slapped the trunk, yelling, "Fuck!"
Cynthia and Tyler looked on gleefully as Steve railed against his elimination, grabbing his hair and yelling that this wasn't fair. And then Tyler's gaze slid back to Kris, and Cynthia's followed, suddenly worried.
As they should be-because sweet, innocent-faced Kris had just proven himself to be every inch as sneaky as Adam, and Adam felt a niggle of doubt that maybe Kris wasn't the best person to take to the one-on-one finale, after all.
But then Kris gave a satisfied sigh and turned his back on Steve's temper tantrum, looked up at Adam with the most delightfully-shy, evil smirk imaginable, and Adam couldn't help it; he threw his head back and laughed as loud as he wanted.
The "let's all be friends" portion of the evening was officially over. Kris switched the iPod to a vaguely-country mix while he and Adam took turns feeding each other scraps of lyrics, challenging each other to sing the source. Tyler looked like he wanted to join in, but Adam was done playing friendly. He made damn sure Tyler felt excluded from their club. It was down to two-on-two, and the man and woman across from them knew it.
Tyler and Cynthia made a few earnest efforts to speak to one another, doubtless trying to form an alliance of their own. But when Tyler talked about the kind of roles he was hoping to get, Cynthia couldn't make herself look interested. And Tyler couldn't relate to Cynthia's stories about her kids. They were a disaster, and definitely at a disadvantage.
They looked exhausted and in pain, but no more so than Adam felt. Everyone was in the same boat, shifting from foot to foot, lifting up on their toes, making pitiful groaning noises every once in a while. The coffee could only do so much; discomfort and fatigue had set in, sapping all of their energy and concentration.
After they all used the bathrooms at 4 a.m., Mitch called them over to a cluster of dining tables and sat them down for an inspirational lecture of sorts.
"Okay, folks. You're down to the final four. I want all of you to think about that-you each have a 1-in-4 chance of leaving here with a new car. So whatever you gotta do to buckle down and concentrate, you gotta do it. You want this car. I know you want this car. And all you gotta do is concentrate on your hands. Now, I know these last four hours've been rough. I'm bored as hell sitting over there, and I've got NetFlix Watch Now. But you guys gotta hang in there. Okay?" He left them with a rallying go get 'em, kid fist punch, and headed back to his laptop at the dealership table.
"Well," Adam said. "I'm inspired."
"I'd be inspired if we could get some food," Kris said. "These power bars aren't doing it for me anymore."
"Heh. You said 'doing it.'"
Kris snickered. "I did. Awesome."
"I would murder for a tofu burger right now."
"Chicken fried steak."
"Garlic stir-fried seitan and eggplant."
"Pizza with sausage and pepperoni," Kris said, his voice going dreamy.
Adam groaned, "Fuck, you're killing me."
"You'd…." Kris looked at him, confused. "You're not vegetarian?"
"Fuck no. Not on principle, anyway," he corrected. "I just can't afford to eat that stuff anymore." He slapped his ass as they stood up, tight as a drum in jeans he never could have fit into back in college, let alone high school.
"Get out," Kris said, following him back to the car. "You're worried about your weight?"
"Yeah?" His tone was a defensive, 'Why not?'
"But you're, I mean, you're-" There was a crash as Kris walked into a metal chair, and Adam turned around to find him rubbing his knee and wincing.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. Just…. I got distracted."
"You're not allowed to lose it on me. I need you to be able to function."
"I can; I'm good. Just. Yeah."
"Adam, Kris, let's go!" Jenny called.
"Come on," Adam said, tugging on Kris's shoulder and marching him into position.
Adam convinced Kris to change his alt-country playlist when they were back at the car. Technically, Kris didn't require much convincing. He pulled his iPod out of the front seat, Adam stuck his lip out in a pout, and after a moment's hesitation Kris dialed in some Queen.
"I could seriously kiss you right now," Adam grinned, his hips rocking with the bass.
"Um," Kris said.
"Give me your body, yeah," Adam sang, and Kris ducked his head down and tapped along on the roof.
~
The uneasy calm between the two sides of the car lasted through the rest of the night and into the dawn. The lightening of the sky should have brought a sense of hope, but to Adam it felt like time was running out. He wasn't prepared to face another full day of standing in a bustling food court, trying to out-think and out-maneuver three people.
Mitch came around again just before 6 a.m. to tell them, "The mall's gonna reopen at 9, and we're gonna have a lot of traffic through here, hopefully twice what we got yesterday. A lot of people are gonna see the car, and they're gonna see you. And that's a problem, 'cause-to be honest-you all look like a bunch of homeless people right now. And we don't want potential buyers thinking homeless people drive our cars. So at 7:40, we're gonna give you a longer break. You can wash up, shave, fix your makeup-Jenny's got electric razors for you, and some CoverGirl cosmetics. And lots of deodorant. Do what you gotta do to look human."
"You're an asshole," Cynthia said to Mitch's face.
"Oof," Adam winced.
Mitch's chin jerked to the side in a weird kind of stress-twitch before he found a smile again. "Three more hours 'til show time. You can do it, people!" He tapped the hood as if they needed any more reminders where their hands were supposed to stay, and left.
"Damn, woman," Tyler hissed.
"I don't know where he gets off!" Cynthia began, finally finding a target for her frustration.
Adam turned around, sandwiching his hands between his ass and the car, and noticed Kris scratching at the stubble shading his jaw. "What d'you think-you gonna shave?"
"Yeah."
"Me, too. D'you think they'll let me use the makeup? Mine's almost all worn off." He wriggled a hand out from behind him and rubbed under his eyes, frowning at the traces of fallen mascara and eyeliner that left dark smudges on his fingers. He rubbed them away on his black jeans.
"They have to. Otherwise it's discrimination," Kris said seriously.
"You'll totally have my back," Adam nodded. "You and me, fighting for our right to Jenny's free eyeliner."
"Well, your right," Kris said. "I don't think I could pull it off."
Adam reached over and tipped Kris's chin up, stubble a soft buzz against his fingertips. Kris in eyeliner…he could picture it, and he liked what he was seeing. "Oh, I think you could," he said, low. "I really do. Yeah."
"O- Okay," Kris agreed faintly.
"You ever worn any on stage? Your eyes would…they would really stand out. They'd look hot."
"You think so?" Kris said, voice breaking into a whisper, his eyes saucer-round.
"Oh yeah." He let his fingers slide along Kris's jaw, brushing up toward his ear, and then realized with a shock what he was doing.
Adam pulled his hand back sharply, got it tucked safely away behind him, and determinedly ordered himself to stop trying to seduce his straight ally.
Fuck, it was late. No, it was early. His thoughts had become more and more scattered since Steve's elimination; they kept flying away from him, making it hard to focus on any one thing. He tried to think about how his life would change if he had a car, if he didn't have to beg his friends for rides all the time. He tried picturing his lowest moments, wearing pieces of his performance costumes on the bus because they were too bulky to fit in a garment bag. The steel mesh devil-wings that weighed a ton and didn't allow him to sit down the whole ride downtown. He'd been exhausted by the time he'd arrived at the theatre, and the stares and whispers he'd gotten had made his skin crawl.
But even those thoughts couldn't hold his attention. It was just easier to focus on Kris, for all that that was crossing a line he'd promised himself not to cross. He couldn't drive Kris away yet-not when there were still two opponents standing across from them. He would not turn on Kris before the end.
Shit. It was late and it was early and he was falling apart. He could act alert, he could keep his hands on the car, but his brain wasn't in the game anymore, and that left him vulnerable. No way would he last another 12 hours without somebody tricking his ass. Or even worse, just up and forgetting which hand was supposed to be touching the car when he needed to scratch his balls.
Now that the seed of self-doubt had been planted, it made Adam desperate to fight back. Things needed to start happening, and soon, before anyone realized how scattered he'd become.
He glanced over his shoulder. Tyler wanted to be an actor. Adam was willing to bet Tyler had countless movie scenes memorized. They might be able to trick him into reciting a few-preferably ones with a lot of hand gestures. Cynthia looked exhausted and angry. She had finished her diatribe against Mitch, but she was still worked up. He could pick a fight with her, easy. He just had to push the right buttons.
And he had a pretty good idea what one of them was.
Adam cleared his throat, and Kris leaned closer to ask, "What's the play?"
Kris's automatic support bolstered his spirits. "Okay, this…this is gonna sound crazy. And like I'm hitting on you. But I'm totally not," Adam warned.
"Okay."
"I wanna kiss you."
"What?"
"I'm pretty sure it'll piss Cynthia off."
"You're 'pretty sure'?"
"Yeah. And I mean, you've kissed guys before. So it wouldn't be…."
Kris cocked an amused eyebrow. "Be what? Say it."
"Uh…unprecedented?"
"Okay," he said, starting to smile.
"Okay?"
"Okay. You can kiss me."
"You…. Seriously?"
"Yeah. If you think it'll work, I can take one for the team." At Adam's stunned expression, he shrugged. "I trust you."
Kris was officially the best alliance partner he could've asked for. "Okay," Adam said, relieved.
"How should I stand?" Kris asked, turning his body toward Adam. "This way-"
Adam caught his chin, pulled his face up and kissed him without warning, sliding his free hand around the back of Kris's neck to keep him there, at just the right angle to show Cynthia his tongue sliding over Kris's lips. Kris's body stiffened for a moment and then melted against him, one hand sliding up Adam's arm to clutch his shoulder. Kris made a surprised whimpering sound as he opened his mouth to Adam, groaned when their tongues met.
"That's right," Adam whispered, encouraging Kris's play-acting, and dove in for another kiss. Kris pulled on his shoulder and moaned louder, playing it brilliantly, tongue chasing after Adam's when he eased off.
Adam gripped Kris's hair to keep him still, pulled back enough to peek across the car. Cynthia was gone.
He straightened up, fingers relaxing to massage Kris's neck absently as he looked for their opponent. She was standing in front of Mitch's table, waving her arms and gesturing back at them. If he wanted to, Adam could maybe have made out what she was saying over the sound of Beck's Soul of a Man pumping through the speakers, but he really didn't care.
"Score," he grinned.
"Oh my god," Kris sighed. "I can't believe that worked."
"Fuck yeah."
Kris leaned in close and whispered where only Adam could hear, "D'you think Tyler looks upset?"
Tyler certainly didn't look happy. He looked kind of freaked out, actually, wild-eyes looking anywhere but at the two of them. "Yeah, maybe," Adam said.
"Then let's go for a double," Kris breathed, and then dragged his lips over the studs in Adam's earlobe.
Adam shuddered and found Kris's mouth, tried to concentrate on the feel of the smooth paint under his left palm. It was hard to remember that it was all an act; that it was part of the game and there was something at stake other than mutual pleasure. Kris's body was hot against him, his tongue so eager and determined. Adam tried to remind himself that the noises Kris was making were just an act, but fuck if they weren't convincing. And addictive.
He did his best to contribute, gave a few exaggerated grunts when Kris scraped his teeth over his lower lip. There was some kind of choking noise coming from the other side of the car, where apparently Tyler was gagging at the sight of two men making out.
If just kissing could freak him out…. "Kris, Kris," Adam said against his lips.
He mumbled something that was probably "What?" or possibly "Not now."
Adam fisted his hand in Kris's hair to get his attention. "What say we put on a real show," he growled, tipping his head slightly in Tyler's direction.
Kris nodded breathlessly and Adam growled again, crouched down where Tyler couldn't see him and rubbed his face against Kris's flat, hard stomach, cotton flannel soft against his lips. "Oh Jesus," Kris gasped, hand resting on Adam's head. "Oh God."
It wasn't necessary to go any further-Kris could probably pull off a convincing orgasm all by himself. But since Adam was down there anyway…. He ducked lower, licked at the denim over his zipper, one hand on Kris's knee, the other on the side panel.
"Please," Kris whimpered. "Please."
Listening to him was driving Adam a little crazy. It was all for show, all for Tyler's benefit, until Kris pushed Adam's head even lower, and his cheek rubbed against Kris's crotch, and Adam felt the hardness in his jeans.
"God, do it," Kris said, bucking a little, and holy fucking hell, Kris was turned on for real. And begging like Adam's favorite kind of porn.
All thoughts of Tyler went out the window. Adam shoved Kris's hip back against the car, stood up and crowded the shorter man against the driver's door. Kris's right hand grabbed the side mirror, Adam got a good grip on the door frame, and when he leaned in this time, Kris moaned.
"Do you know what you do to me?" Adam demanded, holding his lips just out of reach as he pressed a thigh between Kris's, started grinding up against him.
"Fuck," Kris panted, writhing under him, blindingly hot as his eyes fell closed. Adam had to dive in and kiss him again, wet and out-of-control, the rocking of their hips forceful enough to rock the whole car.
If they weren't in public he would turn Kris around, get his pants down and fuck him here and now, laid out on the hood screaming with that pretty voice of his. But Kris's button-down shirt was just long enough, untucked and loose over his hips. Adam fumbled his hand between them, unthreaded Kris's belt buckle.
"Yeah," Kris said, begging with his hand and lips, bucking up against him.
He kept their bodies close, so close no one could see what he was doing as he thumbed open the button of Kris's jeans. Kris's breath hitched as he slid the zipper down slow, Kris panting against his skin, arm looped around his neck for support.
"I can't believe this…" Adam groaned as he twisted his hand, worked his fingers into Kris's open pants, under his boxers. His fingers brushed hot skin, and Kris stiffened, his whole body jerking as Adam wrapped his hand around Kris's cock and squeezed once, twice. Kris came undone, crying out as he came, as Adam jerked him through it and mumbled praise into his mouth.
Kris gulped for air, face red and slack, forehead beaded with sweat, mouth-open and eyes closed, and Adam couldn't resist all that beauty, all his. He wiped his hand on Kris's shirttail, shoved his fingers in Kris's hair again, tipped the shorter man's head back for a deep kiss, tongue settling in for a long exploration. Kris shivered and twitched under him, sucked on Adam's tongue and tugged at Adam's t-shirt like he hadn't had enough.
Adam dragged his lips across Kris's cheek, up to his eyebrow, and said roughly, "You're so fucking beautiful like this, baby. So hot."
Kris's hand slid lower, down to Adam's waist and inward, inching toward Adam's fly, and then there were hands on Adam's shoulders trying to pull him away. Adam resisted-it couldn't be time for a break already, and Kris was still his….
But Mitch was walking up to the car, and Tyler was already sitting at a table, and it was just him and Kris left, the final two. Kris blinked up at him, wrecked and confused, his hand still gripping the side-mirror, and Adam finally noticed that both his hands were laced through Kris's hair.
"Oh," he said, helpless anger washing over him as he let Jenny tug him away from his ally.
She unhooked the velvet rope and pushed him ahead of her, over to a dining table next to her own work space. "Sit here. I'll get you your things." She wasn't meeting his eyes.
"Congratulations, Mr. Allen," Mitch said loudly.
Adam's bitterness triggered a suspicion that he'd just been played. But as much as he wanted to blame his loss on someone else-on Kris-Kris could barely stand. He didn't seem to have any clue that his pants were hanging open, that cum was drying on his shirt; he was staring at Adam like he didn't even care that he'd just won, or that Mitch was shaking his hand and talking to him with a sour expression.
Adam smiled ruefully and cracked open the bottle of water Jenny handed him. "What happened to Tyler?" he made himself ask her.
"He left his assigned place," she said, still not looking at him. "He was trying to…um…get a better view."
Adam's head whipped around to Tyler's table on his left, and he caught the actor looking at him with naked hunger and awe on his face. Huh. He hadn't expected that.
Adam's feet were throbbing, his back ached, and a headache swooped in out of nowhere. He glared down at his boots, wondering if he should risk taking them off to uncramp his toes…or just slice his legs off at the knees and never walk again.
Jenny dropped his phone and wallet on the table and offered him some coffee for the road. Adam ignored her, deep in a sulk about having to call Brad to come get him. His ex would be insufferable. Adam could try to distract Brad with boasts about groping the cute straight boy, but Brad would see right through those, would cut straight to Adam's embarrassment at losing his head again. Blinded by another pretty face-god, story of his L.A. love life. When the hell would he learn to use his head?
The car stereo finally cut out a few minutes later, and when Adam looked back there was a little ceremony going on. Kris was signing some papers, and then Jenny photographed him accepting the same set of keys from Mitch that they'd had in the ignition all night. It seemed Kris had finally recovered-he looked more alert, and his belt buckle wasn't peeking out below his shirt anymore. His hair was still a wreck, though. And yeah, Adam remembered doing that now; the move that had cost him the win. He'd always been a hair-puller. He liked short guys, liked how easy it was to grab their hair….
Fuck. Adam adjusted himself and sighed. He wasn't calling Brad or going anywhere before he found a private place to jerk off…or maybe just dragged Tyler into the bathroom and made sure they both got a happy ending. The actor was still hanging around, maybe hoping for exactly that opportunity. Adam checked the time on his phone-6:25-and gritted his teeth, watched Kris shifting as his jeans became uncomfortable, cum sticky in his boxers.
Kris…who was unexpectedly standing in front of him, shiny new keys in his hand and a nervous heat in his eyes, saying, "Hi, Adam."
"Congratulations," he muttered.
"Thanks. Um." Kris dug his hand into his pocket, inadvertently drawing attention to his hips, and reminding Adam exactly how good it had felt to rock up against them. "So…you look like you could use a ride home? I was thinking…."
Adam was almost tempted to accept the lift Kris was working up the courage to offer, even if all that was on the table was friendship. Something about Kris's slow grin and hidden cleverness had rubbed Adam the right way-multiple right ways, in fact-and he was definitely someone Adam would hang out with again.
But Adam was beyond exhausted, his feet were swollen (he would probably have to cut them out of the boots, which was just one more loss this month), and his dick had just cost him the car he needed so badly; he wasn't about to get over his defeat that easily.
"The saying is 'graceful loser,' not 'winner,'" Adam answered, his pride stinging. "It's nice you feel bad about beating me, but I'm not helpless, you know."
Kris flushed, but he wasn't driven away by Adam's bitchiness. "Actually I was gonna ask your help." He shot a look at the red candy car over his shoulder, looked back at Adam and bit his lip, shifting on equally sore feet. "…breaking in the backseat."
It took Adam's brain a few seconds to adjust from bitterness to astonishment to impossibly turned on. "Oh," he said softly, "oh," watching the possibilities stretch out before him like the new day outside. "Well," he said, a slow, delighted smile curling his lips up. "Now that you mention it…."
Kris started to grin. "Yeah?"
"I could definitely use a ride. You got time for the scenic route?"