[ai] Looking for Yesterday; Collide (both Kris/Adam. PG)
Title: Looking for Yesterday
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not at all true. Makes no representations as to what these guys are actually like.
Summary: The last thing he wants to see is Kris getting jaded, turned into just another sad story of the small town boy chewed up by the big city lights. Years later, some things have changed between them, but not enough to matter.
Notes: written for willow2355 in the ontd_ai charity auction for Haiti. Thank you and I hope you like the result.
Kris is clearly tired and twitchy and he's never been quite so bad at pretending he's happy to be there, but he also looks good, like he's finally buying whatever his stylist is selling. With his sunglasses on and that very precise little smile, he's as Hollywood as he's ever going to get.
At the end of the interview, the thoroughly charmed young woman from People magazine gets a kiss on the cheek and leaves without ever noticing that Kris didn't crack a genuine smile once during the entire conversation. Or maybe it's just obvious to Adam because as soon as Kris turns and spots him, his nose scrunches, his eyes crinkle at the corners and the grin just takes over his face.
Then Kris throws himself at Adam, and the rest is just like the old days, with his warmth pressed against Adam's body all the way down.
"So. 'America's Boyfriend', huh?"
"Oh, shut up. What does that even mean? I mean, beyond the whole 'my publicist needs a raise' thing."
She most definitely does. Most people would kill to get press that good barely a year after a divorce, even an amicable one.
It's all pretty silly, but it's the game they're playing. Adam embraced it early and Kris came to it later, as committed to making his career work as anybody else in the industry and coming off twice as genuine, like usual.
The last thing he wants to see is Kris getting jaded, turned into just another sad story of the small town boy chewed up by the big city lights. Kris was never that naive - the Idol producers would probably have preferred him a little more fresh off the boat, a little less self-aware - but he'd never even had anyone call him pretty before he came to LA and the Idol stylists got their hands on him.
"It's weird. I don't know, I've never thought about myself that way."
"That's because you're hopeless. Good weird or bad weird?"
"Good, I suppose. It's flattering to have people pay attention, you know? Not that it means anything. It's just funny."
Kris isn't ever open enough to let things like that affect him. His face might be an open book, but not for anything stronger than amusement or annoyance. It's not that he doesn't feel deeply, more that those emotions only come to the surface when he's on stage. It makes some of his performances hard to watch and mesmerising, all at the same time.
"Well, if I had to guess, it means we like our boys pretty and non-threatening. I don't know what that says about us as a nation."
"Brains are overrated? That's just sad."
"You get up there and sing pretty, young man. And keep your mouth shut the rest of the time," Adam says in a weird mixture of accents. He's not actually sure who that was an impression of, except that he doesn't want to meet that guy. Or maybe he's met too many versions of that guy.
Kris laughs, rough and short-lived, but it's still a laugh. When he sobers, he's staring at Adam, exactly like he used to do years ago. "You know, I missed you a lot. We should hang out."
"What, now?"
"Yes, now. Cancel your appointments. Do it for me."
And, well, he's always been bad at saying no to that face.
"It's a date."
He means it as a joke, and Kris is smirking a little in response, but he's still looking at Adam like there's something serious at stake here. "Course it is."
fin.
Title: Collide
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not at all true. Makes no representations as to what these guys are actually like.
Summary: Adam was not having a good day. The rent was due, his audition went badly - if he heard too theatrical one more time - and someone was butchering Queen on stage. All that without having a drink spilled in his lap, while he was wearing his favourite pair of pants (this week). AU.
Notes: written for willow2355 in the ontd_ai charity auction for Haiti. Thank you and I hope you like the result. Also, this one is almost double the 500 word limit I set. Go figure. *g*
"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry!"
Adam was not having a good day. The rent was due, his audition went badly - if he heard too theatrical one more time - and someone was butchering Queen on stage. All that without having a drink spilled in his lap, while he was wearing his favourite pair of pants (this week).
Then again -
The guy who was responsible for the latest misery put his hand on Adam's shoulder and ducked his head, giggling. His flush was obvious even under the low lighting at the bar.
"I swear I'm not this clumsy sober. Did I ruin your pants? I'm so sorry, it's all my friend's fault," he said in a breathless, vaguely Southern drawl, leaning in close to be heard over the horrible music, and Adam felt his bad mood lift, just a little, when he raised his head.
For one, that look alone - with the puppy-dog eyes and teeth worrying at his lower lip - could possibly get him forgiven for anything up to and including murder. Adam swallowed back the first few (not very nice) responses that came to mind.
"Nothing dry cleaning won't fix," he said, smiling despite himself, and held out his hand. "Adam Lambert. If you're new, I promise the music isn't usually this bad."
He was expecting a handshake, but the guy ran his hand down from Adam's shoulder instead, feather-light touches that ended with his warm fingers around Adam's forearm. He swayed a little on the spot, but not at all like he wanted to back out of Adam's personal space. "Kris Allen. Does that mean I can stop drinking soon? Um, no offense, but I was starting to think my friend dragged me here to torture me."
Kris Allen's smile said he knew that particular expression made people forgive whatever just came out of his mouth, but not in an obnoxious way. His nose crinkled with it, which was ridiculously cute -
And he was swaying again. Without thinking, Adam put his other hand on Kris's waist to steady him. Some part of him expected a flinch - fresh-faced Southern boys in plaid, even if that shirt was unbuttoned a little too much for decency, probably didn't expect to be manhandled by someone like Adam. But Kris didn't even seem to notice.
"None taken. There are usually at least a couple of decent performers a night. You've just got bad timing."
"Obviously," Kris said with a contrite look down at Adam's lap. "Sorry again. Good thing that drink wasn't full, huh?" He pitched forward abruptly, warm fingers brushing up Adam's thigh.
Adam sucked in a quick breath. There was an itch under his skin, like the very beginnings of a shiver. He looked back up just in time to see Kris flush even more, snatching his hand back as if it had been burned and aiming his wide-eyed look at anywhere but Adam's face.
For a moment, Adam wasn't quite sure how to react. A tipsy cute boy groping him wasn't that unusual, but somehow he didn't think that was what was happening here.
In the end, he just smiled wider. "Forget about it, seriously." Adam was quickly getting there himself, despite the discomfort. This was, if nothing else, quality entertainment.
"I still feel bad, though," Kris said slowly, still not quite meeting his eyes, although he did manage a self-depreciating grin.
Might as well. Plus, the Queen-butcher was singing again. He needed a pick-me-up from that alone. "You could buy me a drink to make up for it," Adam said, leaning in to be heard over the screeching sounds coming from the direction of the stage. "Maybe after I perform."
Kris's face lit up like Adam had just said he could walk on water. "Ahh, you sing?"
Adam couldn't help a grin. "You could say that."
* * *
Kris was still leaning against the bar when Adam came back, having at least thoroughly reclaimed Queen from the ear-bleedingly bad idiot, and was still giving him that look.
"You're amazing. I mean, wow. Your voice! And you've got great stage presence - gosh, this is awesome. Uh, listen, I need to talk to my friend, but you should call me tomorrow." He produced a business card from somewhere and shoved it unsteadily in Adam's general direction.
The fancy header said Sunrise Records.
Something clicked in Adam's head. "Your friend - "
"Cale Mills. You know, the producer. Probably hiding in the VIP section with his girlfriend right now," Kris snorted, but there was nothing but honest affection in his voice. "I work for his label. Can't promise anything right now, but…"
Adam didn't rattle easily. After all these years of trying to make it in LA, he'd trained himself to look twice at any helping hand for the conditions attached, and to think that anything that sounded too good to be true probably was. And besides -
"You don't actually owe me anything. You do know that, right?"
Otherwise that was one expensive spilled drink. Not that he wouldn't consider the offer anyway, but Kris seemed so damn nice it made him a little wary.
"No, no, that - that's not what I meant at all. I'll still buy you that drink. I mean, if you still want," Kris said quickly, glancing up at Adam through the sweep of his lashes. He looked a little nervous but somehow intriguingly self-possessed at the same time, as if he knew what the answer would be but was way too unassuming to let it show.
This was so much more fun that he thought he'd be having today. "I'm pretty sure I do."
fin.
Notes: this is my first time writing Kris/Adam so any feedback is very much appreciated. Thanks for reading!
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not at all true. Makes no representations as to what these guys are actually like.
Summary: The last thing he wants to see is Kris getting jaded, turned into just another sad story of the small town boy chewed up by the big city lights. Years later, some things have changed between them, but not enough to matter.
Notes: written for willow2355 in the ontd_ai charity auction for Haiti. Thank you and I hope you like the result.
Kris is clearly tired and twitchy and he's never been quite so bad at pretending he's happy to be there, but he also looks good, like he's finally buying whatever his stylist is selling. With his sunglasses on and that very precise little smile, he's as Hollywood as he's ever going to get.
At the end of the interview, the thoroughly charmed young woman from People magazine gets a kiss on the cheek and leaves without ever noticing that Kris didn't crack a genuine smile once during the entire conversation. Or maybe it's just obvious to Adam because as soon as Kris turns and spots him, his nose scrunches, his eyes crinkle at the corners and the grin just takes over his face.
Then Kris throws himself at Adam, and the rest is just like the old days, with his warmth pressed against Adam's body all the way down.
"So. 'America's Boyfriend', huh?"
"Oh, shut up. What does that even mean? I mean, beyond the whole 'my publicist needs a raise' thing."
She most definitely does. Most people would kill to get press that good barely a year after a divorce, even an amicable one.
It's all pretty silly, but it's the game they're playing. Adam embraced it early and Kris came to it later, as committed to making his career work as anybody else in the industry and coming off twice as genuine, like usual.
The last thing he wants to see is Kris getting jaded, turned into just another sad story of the small town boy chewed up by the big city lights. Kris was never that naive - the Idol producers would probably have preferred him a little more fresh off the boat, a little less self-aware - but he'd never even had anyone call him pretty before he came to LA and the Idol stylists got their hands on him.
"It's weird. I don't know, I've never thought about myself that way."
"That's because you're hopeless. Good weird or bad weird?"
"Good, I suppose. It's flattering to have people pay attention, you know? Not that it means anything. It's just funny."
Kris isn't ever open enough to let things like that affect him. His face might be an open book, but not for anything stronger than amusement or annoyance. It's not that he doesn't feel deeply, more that those emotions only come to the surface when he's on stage. It makes some of his performances hard to watch and mesmerising, all at the same time.
"Well, if I had to guess, it means we like our boys pretty and non-threatening. I don't know what that says about us as a nation."
"Brains are overrated? That's just sad."
"You get up there and sing pretty, young man. And keep your mouth shut the rest of the time," Adam says in a weird mixture of accents. He's not actually sure who that was an impression of, except that he doesn't want to meet that guy. Or maybe he's met too many versions of that guy.
Kris laughs, rough and short-lived, but it's still a laugh. When he sobers, he's staring at Adam, exactly like he used to do years ago. "You know, I missed you a lot. We should hang out."
"What, now?"
"Yes, now. Cancel your appointments. Do it for me."
And, well, he's always been bad at saying no to that face.
"It's a date."
He means it as a joke, and Kris is smirking a little in response, but he's still looking at Adam like there's something serious at stake here. "Course it is."
fin.
Title: Collide
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not at all true. Makes no representations as to what these guys are actually like.
Summary: Adam was not having a good day. The rent was due, his audition went badly - if he heard too theatrical one more time - and someone was butchering Queen on stage. All that without having a drink spilled in his lap, while he was wearing his favourite pair of pants (this week). AU.
Notes: written for willow2355 in the ontd_ai charity auction for Haiti. Thank you and I hope you like the result. Also, this one is almost double the 500 word limit I set. Go figure. *g*
"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry!"
Adam was not having a good day. The rent was due, his audition went badly - if he heard too theatrical one more time - and someone was butchering Queen on stage. All that without having a drink spilled in his lap, while he was wearing his favourite pair of pants (this week).
Then again -
The guy who was responsible for the latest misery put his hand on Adam's shoulder and ducked his head, giggling. His flush was obvious even under the low lighting at the bar.
"I swear I'm not this clumsy sober. Did I ruin your pants? I'm so sorry, it's all my friend's fault," he said in a breathless, vaguely Southern drawl, leaning in close to be heard over the horrible music, and Adam felt his bad mood lift, just a little, when he raised his head.
For one, that look alone - with the puppy-dog eyes and teeth worrying at his lower lip - could possibly get him forgiven for anything up to and including murder. Adam swallowed back the first few (not very nice) responses that came to mind.
"Nothing dry cleaning won't fix," he said, smiling despite himself, and held out his hand. "Adam Lambert. If you're new, I promise the music isn't usually this bad."
He was expecting a handshake, but the guy ran his hand down from Adam's shoulder instead, feather-light touches that ended with his warm fingers around Adam's forearm. He swayed a little on the spot, but not at all like he wanted to back out of Adam's personal space. "Kris Allen. Does that mean I can stop drinking soon? Um, no offense, but I was starting to think my friend dragged me here to torture me."
Kris Allen's smile said he knew that particular expression made people forgive whatever just came out of his mouth, but not in an obnoxious way. His nose crinkled with it, which was ridiculously cute -
And he was swaying again. Without thinking, Adam put his other hand on Kris's waist to steady him. Some part of him expected a flinch - fresh-faced Southern boys in plaid, even if that shirt was unbuttoned a little too much for decency, probably didn't expect to be manhandled by someone like Adam. But Kris didn't even seem to notice.
"None taken. There are usually at least a couple of decent performers a night. You've just got bad timing."
"Obviously," Kris said with a contrite look down at Adam's lap. "Sorry again. Good thing that drink wasn't full, huh?" He pitched forward abruptly, warm fingers brushing up Adam's thigh.
Adam sucked in a quick breath. There was an itch under his skin, like the very beginnings of a shiver. He looked back up just in time to see Kris flush even more, snatching his hand back as if it had been burned and aiming his wide-eyed look at anywhere but Adam's face.
For a moment, Adam wasn't quite sure how to react. A tipsy cute boy groping him wasn't that unusual, but somehow he didn't think that was what was happening here.
In the end, he just smiled wider. "Forget about it, seriously." Adam was quickly getting there himself, despite the discomfort. This was, if nothing else, quality entertainment.
"I still feel bad, though," Kris said slowly, still not quite meeting his eyes, although he did manage a self-depreciating grin.
Might as well. Plus, the Queen-butcher was singing again. He needed a pick-me-up from that alone. "You could buy me a drink to make up for it," Adam said, leaning in to be heard over the screeching sounds coming from the direction of the stage. "Maybe after I perform."
Kris's face lit up like Adam had just said he could walk on water. "Ahh, you sing?"
Adam couldn't help a grin. "You could say that."
* * *
Kris was still leaning against the bar when Adam came back, having at least thoroughly reclaimed Queen from the ear-bleedingly bad idiot, and was still giving him that look.
"You're amazing. I mean, wow. Your voice! And you've got great stage presence - gosh, this is awesome. Uh, listen, I need to talk to my friend, but you should call me tomorrow." He produced a business card from somewhere and shoved it unsteadily in Adam's general direction.
The fancy header said Sunrise Records.
Something clicked in Adam's head. "Your friend - "
"Cale Mills. You know, the producer. Probably hiding in the VIP section with his girlfriend right now," Kris snorted, but there was nothing but honest affection in his voice. "I work for his label. Can't promise anything right now, but…"
Adam didn't rattle easily. After all these years of trying to make it in LA, he'd trained himself to look twice at any helping hand for the conditions attached, and to think that anything that sounded too good to be true probably was. And besides -
"You don't actually owe me anything. You do know that, right?"
Otherwise that was one expensive spilled drink. Not that he wouldn't consider the offer anyway, but Kris seemed so damn nice it made him a little wary.
"No, no, that - that's not what I meant at all. I'll still buy you that drink. I mean, if you still want," Kris said quickly, glancing up at Adam through the sweep of his lashes. He looked a little nervous but somehow intriguingly self-possessed at the same time, as if he knew what the answer would be but was way too unassuming to let it show.
This was so much more fun that he thought he'd be having today. "I'm pretty sure I do."
fin.
Notes: this is my first time writing Kris/Adam so any feedback is very much appreciated. Thanks for reading!