Public Performances, Private Moments - A Kradam Fanfic
Title: Public Performances, Private Moments
Author: xequth
Pairing: Kradam
Rating: Soft R
Summary: Adam doesn't mind Kris sharing a certain face with the world.
Notes: Inspired by this gif. Concrit appreciated.
Adam loves watching Kris perform.
Back when it was just the two of them up late in the Idol mansion with Kris picking out quiet chords on his guitar as he softly sang his song choice for that week, he loved it. The simple intimacy of the music, knowing that the expressions flitting across the open book of Kris' face were seen by him and him alone, not being beamed out to the 30 million viewers at home.
Now, with the screaming voices of ten thousand fans as a backdrop, Kris' hands desperate on the piano and sweat beading on his forehead, he still loves it. Watching from the wings and knowing that the words and the emotions are twining around each individual in the crowd, like he's singing for them and them alone. The fire in Kris' eyes, the urgency in his voice as he feeds of the energy of the crowd like a true master of the stage and blasts that energy back out to them.
Some things are the same. The way his hands curl possessively around the neck of his guitar, even when he's not playing it. Kris' jaw slipping sideways when he hits the big notes. The way he always takes a quick small breath before he brings the microphone to his face.
The things that haven't changed are still as endearing as ever, but if you twisted Adam's arm, he'd admit that the things he liked the most were the things that had.
Kris had always been mobile when playing his guitar, but his first tour had added a signature hop-step-kick that was hopelessly adorable. Growing confidence had given him a little smirk, a twist of the eyebrows seconds before the lights went up, the show began and his perfect lips became intimately aquainted with the microphone. His more recent high-energy concerts had him coming backstage dripping with sweat and adrenaline, a little gasping pant that went right to Adam's animal hindbrain and short-circuited it.
And Adam's favourite.
The expression on Kris' face when he got lost in the beat and the melodies of the bridge. His head tipped back and his eyes closed, raw joy on his face. His mouth dropping open as he felt the music through his entire body and let it take over. It was beautiful.
It was the exact expression he wore when he came apart in Adam's arms.
It had started way back on the Idol tour, with one song on the piano. Kris had been asking Adam's advice. So soon after his divorce, any love song would be picked apart and presumed to be about Katy, which left not a whole lot of options and Kris deeply uncertain. He'd been playing through them for Adam when it happened.
In the middle of the song came Adam's moment of weakness. His fingers couldn't help but reach out and brush Kris' neck, the delicious curve where it meets the shoulder. They had been no stranger to touching, but the spark from this was entirely new. Kris' capable fingers flubbed the chord, his voice caught and he turned to look at Adam.
They locked gazes. Kris' pupils were so wide, they looked deep enough to drown in. Adam knew his emotions could be read by a blind man, but see them mirrored in Kris' face was something he never expected.
Reaching out for each other at the same time, they collided. Mouths hot and clumsy, desperate tongues and wonderfully brutal teeth. All the unspoken and avoided lust; the subtext of their friendship thrown to the surface by this physical admission.
What followed was a blur of flesh and clothing, murmured words and stifled moans. Both wanting so badly to have, to taste, to feel what they had never allowed themselves to. Kris' certain hands pulling off his t-shirt, his lips kissing every freckle as it was revealed. Adam giving up on the buttons of Kris' ubiquitous plaid shirt and ending up tearing it off. Kris' every whimper as blazing hot lips trailed down his chest while capable hands worked the fly of his jeans as he sat, still on the piano stool.
The feeling, the memory, burned into Adam's mind. His own erection straining in his pants, one hand on Kris' knee, the other on his hip. Rough denim contrasting smooth flesh as he took Kris' length into his mouth. Velvet on his tongue as he looked up through his eyelashes. He used every trick he knew, drawing out the pleasure, until Kris' hand was harsh in his hair and his other gripping the piano tightly, the keys screaming semitones as breath came in gasps.
Kris came apart, eyes squeezed shut and his lips swollen with kisses.
Every night on that tour, on the exact song Kris had been playing that day, he shared that face with the world. Adam was positive Kris had no idea he was doing it, in fact he's probably blush and die of embarrassment if he found out. He still did it every performance, there was always a song at the piano with a pounding beat in the bridge, every album, no exceptions.
If Adam was the jealous type, he might not like Kris' to share that particular expression with the world, he might think it was private or his alone. But he didn't. He loved seeing splashed across the stadium screens and in online videos. Because he knew that every fangirl was looking at that face and wanting it.
And Adam has it, every night, just to himself.
Author: xequth
Pairing: Kradam
Rating: Soft R
Summary: Adam doesn't mind Kris sharing a certain face with the world.
Notes: Inspired by this gif. Concrit appreciated.
Adam loves watching Kris perform.
Back when it was just the two of them up late in the Idol mansion with Kris picking out quiet chords on his guitar as he softly sang his song choice for that week, he loved it. The simple intimacy of the music, knowing that the expressions flitting across the open book of Kris' face were seen by him and him alone, not being beamed out to the 30 million viewers at home.
Now, with the screaming voices of ten thousand fans as a backdrop, Kris' hands desperate on the piano and sweat beading on his forehead, he still loves it. Watching from the wings and knowing that the words and the emotions are twining around each individual in the crowd, like he's singing for them and them alone. The fire in Kris' eyes, the urgency in his voice as he feeds of the energy of the crowd like a true master of the stage and blasts that energy back out to them.
Some things are the same. The way his hands curl possessively around the neck of his guitar, even when he's not playing it. Kris' jaw slipping sideways when he hits the big notes. The way he always takes a quick small breath before he brings the microphone to his face.
The things that haven't changed are still as endearing as ever, but if you twisted Adam's arm, he'd admit that the things he liked the most were the things that had.
Kris had always been mobile when playing his guitar, but his first tour had added a signature hop-step-kick that was hopelessly adorable. Growing confidence had given him a little smirk, a twist of the eyebrows seconds before the lights went up, the show began and his perfect lips became intimately aquainted with the microphone. His more recent high-energy concerts had him coming backstage dripping with sweat and adrenaline, a little gasping pant that went right to Adam's animal hindbrain and short-circuited it.
And Adam's favourite.
The expression on Kris' face when he got lost in the beat and the melodies of the bridge. His head tipped back and his eyes closed, raw joy on his face. His mouth dropping open as he felt the music through his entire body and let it take over. It was beautiful.
It was the exact expression he wore when he came apart in Adam's arms.
It had started way back on the Idol tour, with one song on the piano. Kris had been asking Adam's advice. So soon after his divorce, any love song would be picked apart and presumed to be about Katy, which left not a whole lot of options and Kris deeply uncertain. He'd been playing through them for Adam when it happened.
In the middle of the song came Adam's moment of weakness. His fingers couldn't help but reach out and brush Kris' neck, the delicious curve where it meets the shoulder. They had been no stranger to touching, but the spark from this was entirely new. Kris' capable fingers flubbed the chord, his voice caught and he turned to look at Adam.
They locked gazes. Kris' pupils were so wide, they looked deep enough to drown in. Adam knew his emotions could be read by a blind man, but see them mirrored in Kris' face was something he never expected.
Reaching out for each other at the same time, they collided. Mouths hot and clumsy, desperate tongues and wonderfully brutal teeth. All the unspoken and avoided lust; the subtext of their friendship thrown to the surface by this physical admission.
What followed was a blur of flesh and clothing, murmured words and stifled moans. Both wanting so badly to have, to taste, to feel what they had never allowed themselves to. Kris' certain hands pulling off his t-shirt, his lips kissing every freckle as it was revealed. Adam giving up on the buttons of Kris' ubiquitous plaid shirt and ending up tearing it off. Kris' every whimper as blazing hot lips trailed down his chest while capable hands worked the fly of his jeans as he sat, still on the piano stool.
The feeling, the memory, burned into Adam's mind. His own erection straining in his pants, one hand on Kris' knee, the other on his hip. Rough denim contrasting smooth flesh as he took Kris' length into his mouth. Velvet on his tongue as he looked up through his eyelashes. He used every trick he knew, drawing out the pleasure, until Kris' hand was harsh in his hair and his other gripping the piano tightly, the keys screaming semitones as breath came in gasps.
Kris came apart, eyes squeezed shut and his lips swollen with kisses.
Every night on that tour, on the exact song Kris had been playing that day, he shared that face with the world. Adam was positive Kris had no idea he was doing it, in fact he's probably blush and die of embarrassment if he found out. He still did it every performance, there was always a song at the piano with a pounding beat in the bridge, every album, no exceptions.
If Adam was the jealous type, he might not like Kris' to share that particular expression with the world, he might think it was private or his alone. But he didn't. He loved seeing splashed across the stadium screens and in online videos. Because he knew that every fangirl was looking at that face and wanting it.
And Adam has it, every night, just to himself.