More fic roundup!
To raise more fundage for DonorsChoose.org, I offered ficlets for donations last night. Here's what I ended up writing. :D
Disclaimer: No disrespect intended to any of the persons depicted herein, who I hope are all living happy and fulfilled lives with their partner(s) of choice. This is purely fictional, and not in any way intended as an accurate representation of reality.
Adam/Matt. PG-13. 789 words. For asouthernthing. Podfic by brimtoast now available here!
Two-Beer Queer
"You," says Adam, one arm around Matt's waist and the other holding his shoes, "definitely do not need one for the road."
"C'mon, man, it's not like I'm driving back to the hotel, unless pressing buttons on the elevator counts as driving, in which case can we, like, somehow keep kids from running onto elevators and pressing all of the buttons before they're legal age?"
"Definitely time to go," says Adam, walking a sock-footed Matt out of the hotel bar and down the service corridor, away from cameras and prying eyes. But Matt's not exactly dead weight in his arms, for all that he's tilting and shuffling his feet, and when he reaches to press the button for their floor, his aim is unerring.
"You're a good friend, you know that, Adam?" he says. "You're a good, good friend. The best. Well, maybe not the best, because I've got a list, but you're definitely on it. The list, I mean."
"As opposed to what, exactly?"
"As opposed to...on something else," he says, leaning against Adam instead of the elevator wall, even when Adam tries to prop him up. "How many more floors before your room?"
"Three," says Adam, "which is exactly how many floor it is to your room, too."
"Right, right," says Matt. "Doesn't matter which room we go to, they're all the same. They've all got a bed."
"Yes, except mine has my bed and yours has yours."
Adam's hard pressed not to smile, though, as Matt rests his head against his shoulder and sways gently like the elevator is rocking him, even though it's almost impossible to tell they're even in motion. When the elevator stops, Matt starts moving towards the door right away before hesitating and letting Adam help him out and down the hallway, once or twice reaching out with his free hand to trail his fingers along the wall.
"All right, here we are, give me your key card," says Adam, and Matt fumbles a few times, at least once running his hand over Adam's ass instead of his own, before managing to pull it out of his back pocket. When Adam gets them through the door, before he even manages to get a light on, Matt is stumbling forward and somehow manages to get Adam pressed up against the mirrored door of the closet as the room door swings solidly shut behind them.
"I'm a little drunk," he says, bracing himself against the door with one hand and not moving away.
"Yeah, I noticed that," says Adam.
"Which is good," says Matt, "because if I wasn't drunk, I probably wouldn't do this." And then he's leaning in and pressing his lips to Adam's and, well, Adam isn't pushing him away. First, because Matt's kiss isn't crooked or sloppy or in any way out of control and second because, well, he doesn't actually want to once Matt's lips are actually on his.
"You're not actually that drunk, are you?" he says accusingly when Matt moves his lips away, letting his face fall towards Adam's shoulder.
Matt hesitates, then says, "I'm a little drunk. I'm drunk enough to pretend to be really drunk to get your hands all over me?"
"So, drunk enough to be lame, then," says Adam, shaking his head at him and letting his thumb slip up under the edge of Matt's shirt to find bare skin.
"Is this the part where you put me to bed anyway?" says Matt. "Even after that awesome kiss?"
"Yes," says Adam, and waits for Matt's sigh before he adds. "With me in it, if you play your cards right. God save me from two-beer queers. I never can resist you."
"I'll have you know I’m a little queer before the beer," says Matt, finally moving away enough that Adam can see his almost-completely-sober expression in the thin light from the window. "Just not sure enough to do anything about it."
"I'm pretty sure that's the actual definition of the expression," says Adam, whole hand up under Matt's shirt and pulling him back for another kiss.
"Will you still respect me in the morning?" Matt asks him, and Adam can feel his smile as he says it. As well as other things as their bodies press together again.
"As much as I ever did," says Adam. From the way that Matt takes a step back, reaches for Adam's hand and moves the the rest of the way into the hotel room, it's clear that Matt knows that's a yes.
Adam's not easy, not by a long shot, but Matt's a friend and pretty easy on the eyes and, well, sometimes it just feels really good to say yes, and have someone say yes in return.
Megan/Matt/Anoop, foodsmut. NC-17. 1156 words. For likealocket
Wet and Whipped
"All right, I've got the whipped cream," said Megan, whipping it out of her oversized handbag and brandishing it happily. "Someone remembered the Irish cream, right? I can't do everything."
"That was my job," said Matt, pointing at it on top of the dresser from where he sat cross-legged on the bed. "Anoop's making coffee. It's probably really shitty coffee, though. It's from the freeze-dried pack he found by the coffeemaker."
"It's not that bad!" protested Anoop, his back to them as he poured the water in.
"Coffee's coffee," said Megan. "It's just the delivery mechanism."
Her hair was a little damp from being the one to have to go out in the rain, but she'd dashed across the street about as fast as traffic would let her so it had only frizzed out a little. Still, it was chilly enough that after she pulled off her damp sweater she still rubbed her arms briskly to warm them up.
"Naw, c'mere, that's my job," said Matt, reaching for the knee of her jeans and almost tipping himself over and he tried to tug her closer.
Megan settled herself between his legs as he unfolded them, and let him wrap his arms around her from behind as she tried to get the top off the whipped cream. "I used to be able to get into these in about five seconds flat, when I was pregnant," she said, finally yanking it off. "Here, open up." She looked back over her shoulder and when Matt opened his mouth she squirted a little inside. "Good?"
"Not bad," he mumbled around a mouthful of whipped cream, "but I've got a better idea." He grabbed the cannister right out of her hand and sprayed a line of whipped cream on her bare forearm, then raised it to his mouth and started sucking it off. It made her feel warmer than the coffee ever could.
"Hey," said Anoop, finally turning around from the tiny, inadequate coffeemaker. "That's not what the whipped cream is for."
"You wouldn't be saying that if I was spraying it on you," said Matt. "Any reason you're still on the other side of the room? Megan's cold."
"Megan's cold," Anoop repeated, shaking his head like he couldn't believe that was the most compelling line Matt could come up with, but he was already stripping his hoodie off and pretty soon Megan had someone up on the bed warming her front, too. "Body heat's the best heat."
"You just made that up, didn't you?" said Matt, spraying some whipped cream on Anoop's shoulder and letting Megan lean in and suck it off, slowly. When her body trembled this time, it had nothing to do with the cold.
"You just wish you'd thought of it first," said Anoop, then reached around her to pull Matt's shirt off too, careful not to squish her between them. "I'll let you do hers, because I'm a gentleman like that."
Megan raised her arms so either one of them or both could take care of business, her t-shirt only damp, not wet, but still clinging to her skin as Matt pulled it up along her arms. "Maybe I should just leave it right here," he murmured in her ear when he was about half way, but in the end Anoop ran his hands up her arms too, pushing the shirt the rest of the way off and dropping it beside the bed.
"So much for our spiked coffee, then, huh?" she said, licking away the last tiny bit of whipped cream lingering on his shoulder.
"We'll save it for after," said Anoop, reaching around for her bra clasp. "Like a cigarette, only more whipped cream and less cancer."
"Sweet talker," said Matt, helping him with the hooks and letting Anoop drop the bra alongside her t-shirt. Then their hands were on her, both of them, warming her skin and her cheeks. When Matt cupped her breasts from behind she let her head roll back and rest on his shoulder, then laughed softly as Anoop sprayed a squirt of whipped cream on each of her nipples and sucked it slowly off again.
"How about I work on these pants?" said Anoop, moving back far enough to undo them. "I bet you're cold under here too."
"Actually, I'm pretty hot under there," she said as she shimmied out of them, and her underwear while they were at it. "But I appreciate the concern."
"Better safe than sorry," he said, moving back to where he'd been before and sliding his hand between her legs. "You know how I like to be thorough."
The pads of Matt's thumbs brushed over her nipples at the exact same moment Anoop's fingers slid into her, and she didn't even pretend this was about anything else anymore. She was anything but cold, and thinking about anything but coffee and Irish cream and watching movies with her boys all night.
"Wait, let me..." she murmured without lifting her head, and shifted so her legs were over Anoop's, spread open and inviting his fingers even deeper, inviting his thumb to rub slow circles on her clit as he finger-fucked her. Matt's lips were on her throat as he pinched and stroked her nipples and she could feel him hard up against her back through the fabric of his sweatpants.
It would have been easy to wrap her legs around one of them, roll them all over and take charge, but it was so nice this time to just lean back and relax and let them do all the work. Warmth curled in her belly so quickly, her skin tingling and her pulse throbbing. When she came she could feel it all over, and only let out a little gasp but they knew, they both knew, and kept touching and stroking her through it until she trembled with the aftershocks.
"Warmer now?" Matt asked against her ear as he just cupped her breasts comfortably again, as Anoop moved his hand away and gently stroked her belly with damp fingertips.
"Mmm, you have no idea," she said, squirming in their embrace and then stretching out, cat-like, as far as they would let her.
"And we hardly got any use out of the whipped cream at all," said Matt, finally letting go of her to pick up the cannister again. "I guess I'll have to find something else to put it on."
"You're not putting whipped cream on my dick," said Anoop, meeting Matt's eyes over her shoulder. She could only imagine the expression on Matt's face.
"You say that now," said Matt, shaking the cannister. "But remember, I do clean up after myself, and I'm not talking about a towel."
Anoop's dick seemed pretty interested after that.
"I'll go turn the coffeepot off," said Megan, sliding out from between them and right off the bed. "I don't think we're going to be needing it for a while."
Kradam and Cookleta. PG-13. 1716 words. For denitta.
Compare and Contrast
Kris knows their situations are a little different, but that doesn't mean he's not paying close attention to the infamous Davids as they interact at the refreshment table. He wouldn't say he's taking notes, exactly, but...well, okay, he's totally taking notes in his head. The way they make eye contact, the way they touch, the way nobody looks at them sideways when they do.
It's different with Adam because Adam is out and proud and everyone reads his body language differently than they would read somebody else's. Somebody straight, Kris corrects himself, because that's what he's really saying here. People expect Adam to be flirting with guys, and that makes all the difference.
"You're just the little voyeur now, aren't you?" says Adam, handing Kris a glass of something that Kris actually really hopes contains some stealth vodka because it's already been a long afternoon of making nice with strange suits and trying to remember how to be normal around Adam without giving away that the bromance of the decade has somehow lost its 'b'. "Trying to catch them doing something?"
"I won't," says Kris, confident in this assessment now that he's been watching them for a while. "There's not even anything to catch. I know about them, so I see it, but no one else seems to see anything."
"People always see something," says Adam, sucking off his plastic stir stick. He really needs not to do that at public Idol gatherings when Kris is wearing tight pants. Or even when he's not. "Just not always what's there. God knows people said things about us a long, long time before there was anything to say."
Archie looks up at David with absolute adoration in his eyes, and Kris wonders what's so different about them that people see something like that and just think it's brotherly, just think it's hero worship, and not the out and out mad-about-you love that Kris knows it actually is.
"I want to touch your arm," says Kris, "and not have our 'epic affair' be front page news tomorrow."
"It wouldn't be front page," says Adam. "Maybe page three. Now a grope, a good grope would get us front page."
"I’m serious," says Kris, but he can't help smiling as he elbows him. He takes a sip of his drink and does an inward cheer that yes, there is something stronger than just coke in it. "I could stop getting in your personal space so much."
"And why would you want to do that?" says Adam. "So you can gaze from afar instead?"
He has a point. Kris's gazes are almost as telling as his touches. "I could cut back on the eye contact."
"I wouldn't mind if you stared at my dick once in a while," murmurs Adam. "Or my arms. You could gaze longingly at my arms, just for a change. I know my eyes are mesmerizing, but there are other important parts of me too."
Kris elbows him again, jostling his drink. "You're not taking me seriously."
"Because you're being ridiculous," says Adam. "You've never cared before what people thought when they looked at us. You were the one who told me not to care."
"There was nothing to see before," says Kris, and in his head that makes all the difference.
"There was always something to see," says Adam, his eyes focusing somewhere in the distance as he takes a sip of his own drink. "It's just a little different now, that's all. People will make of things what they make of them, and there's nothing you can do about that. If you can resist blowing me under the dessert table, I think we'll be fine."
Kris almost chokes on his drink, and is even more sorry for the tight pants now. And the fact that there really is no way he can blow Adam under the...no, he's not even going to go there.
"Now drink up, we still have a few more hours of this to face," Adam goes on. "I told David we'd sit with them at the dinner, though, unless some overzealous assistant has set up seating cards."
Across the yard from them, David's set his hand on top of Archie's head, threading his fingers through his hair, and it's so intimate it makes Kris ache. And it's something Adam would never do with him, not the way they do it. They're so close to one another, yet somehow so different from Kris and Adam.
"I could hug you different," Kris says after another slow sip of his drink, thoughtfully. "A little more arm, a little less full body contact.
"Are you kidding me?" says Adam, staring at him.
It's not that Kris wants to, it's that he doesn't know how to dodge the scrutiny, or even if that's possible. A moment later Adam tugs at him, and Kris instinctively faceplants into his chest as Adam wraps his arms around him.
"Don't change anything at all," says Adam firmly. "We're perfect the way we are."
:::
It's a formal kind of a dinner, a hundred suits they're trying to impress with the talent that American Idol has put out (as if there aren't a dozen other ways to do that), and Kris very carefully makes sure that he and Adam are seated across from one other rather than side by side. The way he's keyed up right now, there's no way he'd be able to keep his hands to himself.
This puts him next to David Cook, and Adam next to Archie, and really thank God he doesn't have to call them both David because that would get confusing so fast. There are no carefully calligraphed placecards on the tables, but even if there had been Kris wouldn't have been surprised to find himself seated next to the previous season's winner.
"Next year there'll be another one of us," says David conversationally as Adam pokes Archie repeatedly in the side in some sort of ridiculous game they've made up on the spot. "My money's on that Kristen girl, if she takes care of her voice and doesn't blow it halfway through the season."
"Blow what?" says Adam, looking up with a perfect poker face that Kris has always envied.
"Yeah, you would join us for that part," says Kris, and when his eyes flick to the side he definitely does not miss the silent and pointed gaze that Archie directs in David's direction. Yeah, blow something all right, he thinks, and is glad he's at least sitting down now.
"Are you talking about this season?" says Archie, picking up his wine glass to play with the rim of it. "I haven't seen any of it yet. Is that terrible? I should've tried to watch some by now."
"You just got back from Canada," says David. "I think you're allowed to not be caught up yet."
"They show it in Canada too!" he says earnestly. "I was just so tired I went to bed instead."
"Bed, uh huh, right," mutters David all too knowingly, and Kris tries to hid his smile. Unsuccessfully.
"You haven't missed much yet," says Adam. "I've got my eye on Kristen, though. Kristen and Adam."
"You just like him because his name's Adam," Kris accuses him, but Adam just shrugs and a moment later he feels Adam's socked foot rubbing at his ankle.
"Name or not, he's not going to get much further unless he quits it with the light rock ballads," says David. "No matter how pretty he sounds."
"I've got to root for him anyway," says Adam, his foot pushing Kris's pantleg up to get higher. "His voice isn't the only thing that's pretty."
Archie and David laugh, but Kris just shakes his head. "Pretty can get you a long way," he says, and he guesses he would know about that, even though he knows it was talent that got him to the end. "Do I have some competition?"
"Not on the entire planet," says Adam, then seems to remember they're not alone at the table and clears his throat. Kris blushes and figures, when in Rome, and kicks his shoe off to play a little at Adam's ankle too. He just earned it, right there.
Archie grins and makes a gagging motion, and wow, they must be pretty sickening right now if they've earned a gag from David Archuleta of all people. Kris is strangely proud of that, actually. He's not the kind of guy that goes for sweet public declarations, but when he manages to get one it's still kind of nice.
"So if Kristen and Adam make the final two," says David, "does that mean they have to hook up? It's tradition now."
"Wow," says Kris. "You've just given me a vision of Ruben Studdard and Clay Aiken that no amount of vodka in my coke is ever going to get rid of."
"Of all the six available seasons, you went there?" says Adam. "Oh, the things I have yet to learn about you, Kristopher Allen." Kris blushes and shuts up while he's ahead. "Besides, I'm about ninety-six percent sure Kristen plays for our team."
"Also a tradition," says David, raising his water glass and earning himself a four-way toast. It's still a little weird for Kris, being included in that, but since he's been sleeping with Adam Lambert, he sort of can't deny it.
"It might be Kristen and Kym in the final two," Archie offers.
Now that, Kris thinks, is a mental image much more to his tastes. Which he guesses the look on his face has given away from the smirk Adam gives him and the gentle pressure of Adam's foot on his.
"As long as we're making up random traditions," he says finally, feeling himself blush again under the knowing scrutiny, "I think the K in their names gives them a distinct advantage."
"Fair point," says David, raising his glass again. "To the American Idol finalists, old and new. May they enjoy everything that we have."
As Adam's foot slowly begins to climb higher on his leg and as he sees the adoring gaze that David is giving Archie, Kris thinks that's definitely something he can drink to. And celebrate in other ways, too, but that'll definitely have to wait till later.
Allison/Megan, futurefic. NC-17. 1445 words. For orihara_kaoru
Cookies
Allison played Salt Lake City on a Thursday night, and rocked their fucking faces right the fuck off. That was what Allison Fucking Iraheta did.
After the show, shockingly blue hair stringy with sweat and tied back carelessly with a length of shoelace, she drained half a beer in one swallow, kicked her booted feet up onto the vanity and was just leaning back in her chair when she heard the door to her dressing room open.
"Miss Megan Joy is that you?" she hollered in that general direction. "If it's not, whoever it is you'd better get the hell out of my dressing room! Unless you have cookies!"
"I put the last of my cookies in Ryder's lunchbox this morning," said Megan, crossing her arms and wandering into Allison's range of vision, "but I know a great place to get some if you're into that."
"Forget that, girl!" said Allison. "Get over here!" She did a less than graceful tumble out of her chair then wrapped her arms around Megan, lifting her right off the ground. "Did you bring him with you?"
"Past his bedtime," said Megan as Allison put her back down, "and I'm not sure he's quite old enough for the kind of show you put on. He's spending the night with my mother."
"What, you don't want your kid cursing like a sailor till he's at least ten?" said Allison. "That's why you're the mom and I'm the rock star. Hey, though, Mama, c'mere and check out my new ink!"
She pulled her sweaty shirt right off - high time anyway - to show Megan the back of her shoulder.
"Nice," said Megan, tracing her fingers around the finally-healed edges of it. "That's good work. So hey, Entertainment Tonight tells me you broke up with that girl from Electric Parade. Sorry to hear that, baby girl."
"Old news," said Allison dismissively. "Like, three weeks ago old, and we were only ever fucking, you know? Like, it was totally nothing serious. They tried to make it into this big Lilo-style drama but it totally wasn't."
"If only they'd known how many queer folk we actually had on the Idol tour back in the day," said Megan, snapping Allison's bra strap. "They'd have done up our venues in rainbow flags."
"Can you believe someone actually asked me once if it was Adam's influence?" said Allison, cackling hard. "I was like, shit, son, the one thing Adam Lambert did not teach me was how to munch rug."
"If only you hadn't been seventeen," said Megan, finding a chair and straddling it while Allison looked around for something to change into. "You'd've been rolling in it."
"I do well enough now to make up for it," said Allison, raising an eyebrow at her and smirking. "Unless that was an offer. Cause that would sure beat watching you in the shower."
Megan looked shocked for a moment, then laughed. "You watched me in the shower?"
"I was seventeen," said Allison, from her much-advanced age of twenty-two. "I was just a big ball of confused hormones. I watched everyone in the shower, given half a chance."
Megan crooked a finger at her and Allison didn't even consider not going closer, leaning forward onto her knees so that her face was level with Megan's. Then Megan reached into her hair, pulled the shoelace loose and combed her fingers loosely through it.
"Good thing you're not seventeen now," she said.
"You'd better not be a damn tease, Megan Joy," she growled at her, as Megan twisted a lock of Allison's hair around her fingers, "because I'm pumped right full of adrenaline right now and if I have to leave this dressing room with blue balls I'm going to make some very fucking bad life choices."
"I don't have to pick up Ryder from my mom's till tomorrow," she said, "and you sure grew up nice. You want to see if all this lives up to your fantasies?"
"I think you have no idea what kind of fantasies I have," said Allison, "but hell if I'm going to say no when you offer it to me on a platter like that. Just don't you dare go anywhere while I hope in the shower and get all this stage crap off me. If you're not right there when I come back out here I will hunt you down."
"How about," said Megan, swinging her leg over the chair and standing up again, "you don't have to go hunting for me at all? Don't need to hunt me down if I'm already right there."
"I like the way you think," said Allison, shaking her hair out and unbuttoning her skintight pants, peeling them down her legs and tossing them carelessly over the chair Megan vacated. Someone else would take care of them later, she didn't need to worry about it. "This way, girl."
The shower was large, made to accommodate some pretty hefty men and more than big enough for two girls and all their curves. "You gonna soap me up, pretty lady?" said Allison as she stepped under the spray, looking back at Megan and then laughing as she tilted her head back, letting the falling water flatting her hair against her.
A moment later she felt Megan's breasts pressed up against her, Megan's knee between her legs and Megan's arms reaching around her. "Soap's behind you, baby girl," she said, right against her ear, and in case Allison thought that was just a line, a moment later she felt Megan's soapy hand run all the way down her back, from shoulderblades to tailbone. "Is that what you had in mind?"
"It's a hell of a start," said Allison, and really there wasn't much she liked more than getting clean and dirty at the same time. Megan rolled her hips against her as her hand came up Allison's back again, grinding in just exactly the right away between her legs. "Better be just a start."
"You have no patience at all, do you?" said Megan, licking her ear.
"Nope," said Allison unapologetically. "Never did. And you should know that."
"Any other day I'd teach you something about it," she said, hands moving to give Allison's ass a good squeeze, "but there's nothing slow about this tonight."
"I'm too wired for slow," said Allison, trying to force things along by grinding back against Megan's leg. "I can slow down when the tour's over. Right now everything's fast and hard."
Megan's hands weren't fast and hard when they slid around front, slid over her breasts and toyed with the nipples, but Allison didn't have a single complaint about that. "God I want to fuck you," she said. "I've wanted to fuck you for five years."
"Then we'd better do five years worth of fucking tonight," said Megan, hands moving down, still slick and soapy, over Allison's belly and her hips and then finally, mercifully, between her legs.
"Oh, Christ, girl," said Allison, looking heavenward and reaching her arms above her head to wrap both hands around the showerhead and hang on.
Megan worked her fingers over her clit, rubbing harder and faster the way Allison practically demanded she to it, sliding her hand back to pump her fingers inside her once, twice, five times hard, then back to her clit again. Over and over again till Allison was finally speechless and trembling. She couldn't even say anything as her orgasm hit, so hard her grip on the the showerhead the only thing keeping her standing.
"Like that?" said Megan with a perfectly innocent smile, then finally leaned in and kissed her. Allison hadn't realized just how much she wanted that kiss, long and slow and hot, until she practically melted into it, letting go of the shower so she could finally run her hands all over Megan's body.
When the kiss ended and Megan stepped back, Allison reached for the wall to brace herself, left gasping for breath.
She let the hot water run over both of them for a little while, washing them clean, then turned the tap off blind, both hands groping behind her, figuring her hair could damn well wait. She took a moment to get control of her legs again, then used the tap to push herself upright.
"Get your clothes on," she said, giving Megan's wet ass a playful smack. "I've got a hotel suite for the night and a king-sized bed with your name on it. God as my witness I'm going to eat you out till you can't even walk anymore. If we've only got one night, we'd damn well better make the most of it."
Matt/Anoop. R. 900 words. For lovealwaysliana
See You In LA
When Matt zipped up his suitcase, looked out the window one more time and then turned towards the door, he didn't expect to find Anoop bodily blocking it, hands braced against the walls so that nothing could pass.
"Ooooookay," he said, taking his ball cap off for a moment so that he could scratch his head. "You trying to tell me that I forgot something?"
"No," said Anoop. "Well, you probably did. You usually do. But that's not what this is...." He looked from side to side at the way he was braced in front of the hotel room door. "Does this look as ridiculous as it feels?"
"Kind of, yeah," said Matt, putting his hat back on again. "I'm figuring you're going to tell me what it's about eventually, though, and I'm willing to wait because I'm betting it's gonna be good."
Anoop lowered his arms. "You can't leave yet," he said. "I just wanted to make sure."
"Well, check out's in an hour," he said, "and I have a flight tonight. So I do eventually have to leave. Which, I know, sucks, but we're going to meet up in LA, right? We have plans. Big plans, you and me."
"Big plans," said Anoop. "You and me. But not big enough."
"Taking over the world isn't big enough for you?" said Matt, still playing it off as a joke even though he had no idea where Anoop was going with it. Because had no idea where Anoop was going with this, actually. "I'm not sure space travel is advanced enough for us to take over other planets yet, though I suppose Adam's home world might be an option."
"Do you ever shut up?"
"You've known me for a year," said Matt. "What do you think?"
"Do you think you could shut up long enough for me to blow you?"
That did shut him up. For a few moments anyway. "Technically," he said finally, because seriously, what did someone say to something like that, "if you were blowing me, I wouldn't have to shut up."
"Wow," said Anoop. "I body block your door to be able to say that to you, and that's what your response is?"
"Well, you're not serious, right?" said Matt, though he wasn't sure of that at all, suddenly. "Right?"
Anoop shrugged. "I meant to offer, like, a week ago," he admitted, "but we got busy and time kind of got away from me and now, like. It's our last chance. Right here and right now. If you walk out that door right now I might never blow you, and I'm not sure I can live with that."
"Wow, okay," said Matt, letting the suitcase fall. It was pretty clear now that Anoop wasn't making fun of him, and was, in fact, pretty oblivious to the fact that there was no possible way the answer was ever going to be no. Today, a week ago, a month ago, ever.
"Yes, I can blow you, or yes, you agree that I'm never going to blow you if you walk out that door?"
"Well, okay, first thing," said Matt, "is that I never turn down a blowjob. Like, ever. And second thing, you're going to see me in two weeks. If you think you're going to change your mind about blowing me in two weeks, then are you sure you really want to be doing it in the first place?"
"Everything's going to change now," he said. "The tour's over. American Idol is over. I used to have my whole life planned out and now I don't even know what the world's going to look like in two weeks."
"The world's going to look exactly the same," said Matt, "except that Adam will probably have another magazine cover, another hundred wide-eyed kids with no idea what they're in for will be headed for Hollywood, and you and I will be looking for an apartment in LA. Where, I might add, I will still want you to blow me. In case that was your next question."
"Actually, my next question was whether you wanted it right there, or you wanted to mess up the bed one last time," he said, "but I'm good with that answer too. Maybe we can have Adam's old apartment after he buys a mansion somewhere. Between the two of us, we can probably afford it."
"That's actually not a bad thought," admitted Matt as he unbuckled his belt and popped the top button of his jeans. "You know, if we get on the bed I can blow you too."
Both of Anoop's eyebrows we3nt up. "So you're into that?"
"You're an idiot," said Matt. "Get on the bed already and I'll show you just what I'm into. And what I'll still be into two weeks from now when I have more than an hour to get it on with you."
Anoop didn't waste any time getting on the bed, which was more than Matt could say about the last week of him not asking Matt if he could blow him. Though to be fair, Matt hadn't said anything for, oh, the past year, either, so he didn't have a lot of room to talk.
All they could do now was make up for lost time. And with their whole lives open in front of them now, there would be plenty of opportunities for that.
Adam/Kris/Matt. R. 1193 words. For asouthernthing
What Happens in the Mansion
Kris found out about them entirely by accident. He hadn't even suspected anything, which was actually saying a lot because he and Adam spent about eighteen hours a day together and that didn't leave a lot of room for secrets. He had no idea at all until one day he got back early after spending some time with Katy (apparently the one time when Adam counted on him not coming back early) and walked in on Matt on his knees.
Matt was pretty quick to yank his pants on and leave without meeting Kris's eyes. Adam was almost as quick to put pants on, but pretty much had nowhere to go. Kris, well, Kris was at a loss for words at first, jamming his hands in his pockets and wondering if he should stay or go or just pretend he hadn't seen anything.
Well, actually, the last one wasn't much of an option.
"Him, really?" he said finally, then quickly corrected himself. "I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that! I just always figured...." It was a little embarrassing now, but he might as well just out with it. "I always figured if you hooked up with anyone here, it would be me."
Adam just sort of stared at him, and Kris wondered how he could have been so wrong about it. "You're married," he blurted out finally. "To my favorite girl in the entire state of Arkansas. And you thought I would...."
"But I told you," said Kris, and it was his turn to stare in confusion. "I told you that what happens in the house stays in the house."
"But I didn't think you meant it!" said Adam. "That's the kind of thing people just say but when it comes down to it, it always matters."
"It's not like that," said Kris, not that it really mattered now since Adam was with Matt, Matt who was pretty much the opposite of Kris. So much for figuring he was just Adam's type. "Me and Katy, practically our whole relationship has been long distance. She knows that nothing that I do here will change the fact that I love her, and I know the same about her. I thought you understood."
"I didn't...are you kidding me?" said Adam. "I would've been on my knees for you our first night together if I'd known you meant it. Nobody means it. How was I supposed to know that the sweetest, most stable couple I've ever met is the one that actually has an open relationship?"
"Maybe we're the sweetest, most stable couple you've ever met because we don't get all weird about stuff like this. If Katy was here, she might even want in on it. I mean, obviously not, because you don't do girls, but I'm just saying. If you did."
Adam pressed his hand to his forehead like it was paining him, rubbing with his thumb and his forefinger.
"But hey, it doesn't have to get weird now, right?" said Kris. "It's not a big deal. But we should work out, I don't know, some kind of sock system? For when I shouldn't walk in on you?"
It was really, really unfortunate timing that right that moment there was a knock at the door. "Uh, guys?" said Matt. "I sort of forgot something important. Can I just...I'll only be a second."
Adam lowered his hand and looked at Kris as he called out, "Give us about two seconds," and chewed on his lip for a moment. "Me and Matt, we're just fooling around."
"Yeah," said Kris, smiling a little. "If I'd known he was into it, I would've fooled around with him too, back when we were roommates. But all he could talk about were all the chicks he thought were hot."
"What I mean is," said Adam, though he had definitely heard what Kris said to him, "that just because me and Matt are fooling around, doesn't mean you and I can't." There was a thump at the door, probably Matt's back slumping against it as he waited for them. "Or...you and me and Matt?"
"Wow, I...." Kris thought about that for a moment, let the not-unwelcome mental images swirl around in his brain. "Never considered that option. But I would, you know...." He shrugged a little shyly, and looked up at Adam with that smile still on his face. "I think I might be into that. You know, give it a try. I'll try anything once."
Adam looked at the door, then took the couple steps it took to close the space between them and gave Kris a swift, hard kiss. "Next time, beat it into my head a little harder, would you? That's three weeks of quality blowjob time we've missed."
"You know I do more than blowjobs, right?" Kris was saying, right as Adam opened the door on Matt's impatient face.
"Okay then," he said after a brief and awkward pause. "I, uh, left my underwear on the windowsill. I'll just be a second."
"No rush," said Adam and he looked at Kris again, like he needed confirmation about this. When Kris nodded he closed the door, closed and locked it to avoid a repeat. "We were just talking about you."
Matt looked from one to the other, underwear balled up in his hand. "I'm pretty sure that's not what you were talking about," he said, but by the time he got to the end of the sentence Adam was by his side, his hand flat on Matt's stomach, close and intimate.
"Don't be too sure," said Kris, hands back in his pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels, just a slow sway. "But only if you'd be into it. I mean, no weird pressure or anything, it's just supposed to be fun."
Adam's hand slipped down till his fingers were just sliding inside the front of Matt's pants. "Yeah, I didn't see that one coming either," he said, "but it would be fun, right? Just fooling around."
"Oh for fuck's sake, Allen, you couldn't have brought this up months ago?" Matt blurted out when he finally found something to say again.
"Yeah, that's what I said," said Kris, grinning at him. "So yeah? Are we all good to go? I don't want to take my pants off and then find out that someone's having second thoughts."
"Didn't you just come from seeing your wife?" said Matt. "She have a headache tonight or something."
Kris shook his head, finally reaching for the buttons of his jeans. "No, it was great," he said. "I just like sex." He gave them both a little shrug, and did he really need to explain more than that? "But I love her."
"Yeah, okay," said Matt. "Yeah, okay, I get it. I get that." Finally, Kris thought, because he was starting to think they just weren't into him. "But if I can make a suggestion, I sort of left Adam hanging earlier...."
"I like that suggestion," said Kris, and from the look on his face, Adam liked that suggestion too. "And I think I know what I can do to help."
Kradam+Brad, Burning Man. PG-13. 836 words. For azrielen
New School
"This is so old school," said Brad, and even after the long drive to get up here he still seemed completely fascinated by the shag carpeting, lying on his stomach and running his hands through it. "You've got a van."
"Technically I borrowed a van," said Kris, sliding his sunglasses on as he he looked out at the stretch of bare earth and sky. "Katy's cousin always comes through with stuff like this. We just need to get it back to him in one piece."
"And without suspicious stains?" said Brad, rolling over onto his back and wiggling his butt on the shag.
"He didn't say anything about stains," said Kris, finally turning back to where Brad was stretching his skinny arms out over his head and Adam was hauling a cooler out of the van to start setting up their camp.
"No jerking off in the van," Adam supplied, though, then turned to Kris. "He will, if you let him. I thought you should know."
"That's not what I meant," protested Brad, rolling back over onto his stomach to finally crawl out of the van. "Stains are much more fun when made with company."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," said Kris. "I mean, who wants to eat ice cream alone, right?"
He actually managed to keep a straight face for as long as it took for Brad to turn to Adam, mouth hanging open, and say, "Is he for real?" But no longer than that, breaking into a grin as soon as Brad got the words out. "Oh, I'll show you eating ice cream," he said, pinching Kris's ass. "Dick."
"Yeah, I think that's the idea," said Adam, slumping down onto the cooler and taking a break. "You think maybe you could make some contribution instead of shimmying around in those short shorts?"
"But that is my contribution to this enterprise," said Brad, shimmying. "Your boy here needs an education, and I am here to provide!"
"I consider myself pretty educated already," said Kris, watching Adam rummage around in his pockets for the joint Kris remembered him stashing there the last time they stopped for gas.
"Not for the things I could educate you about," he insisted, reaching right into Adam's pants pocket and fishing it out, and getting a good grope in while he was at it.
"How do you do it?" Kris asked before he stopped to think about it, while Brad's hand was stuffed in Adam's other pocket looking for a lighter. They both looked up at him. "I mean, I don't exactly have a lot of exes, but I'm not like this with any of them."
Brad yanked his hand back out, and held up the lighter. "Oh, first of all, we need to be high for this conversation," he said. "And second of all, you only have one ex, and you haven't been apart long enough to start hooking up again yet."
"Except that one time," mumbled Kris, and kind of hoped they didn't hear, actually. Though, from the look on Adam's face, he did at the very least. "So you weren't always?"
Adam yanked Brad down into his lap as he lit the joint, taking a hit and passing it to him. As soon as he had it, though, Brad gave a little wiggle in Adam's lap and then got up again, swaggering over to Kris and offering him the joint once he had a lungful of smoke.
"My first ex-boyfriend slashed the tires on my car," he said, a bit of smoke escaping as he spoke.
"My first ex-boyfriend told the rest of the cast I had a small dick," said Adam, tilting his head back to exhale. "I'm not exactly proud of what I did to prove him wrong."
"My first ex-boyfriend stole my bike," said Kris. When both of them stared at him he added, "We were six. But he kissed me, so it totally counts."
"Absolutely," laughed Adam, and Kris grinned at him and finally brought the joint up to his lips. His first Burning Man festival, so he might as well start the thing out right.
When he tried to offer the joint back to Brad, though, he shook his head and waved it off, then closed his eyes and opened his mouth and Kris suddenly knew exactly what he was looking for. He hesitantly put his hand on his hip first, then when there was not a word of protest he lowered his lips to exhale smoke into Brad's mouth.
"Mmm, bring that back over here," said Adam when Kris moved his head away again to look at Brad's still-closed eyes, eyelashes fluttering as he slowly exhaled. "It's going to be a great week."
Kris still really didn't know what to expect, from any of this, but when he brought the joint back over to Adam, and Adam waved it off and closed his own eyes, parting his lips, Kris had to agree.
It was going to be a week to remember.
Disclaimer: No disrespect intended to any of the persons depicted herein, who I hope are all living happy and fulfilled lives with their partner(s) of choice. This is purely fictional, and not in any way intended as an accurate representation of reality.
Adam/Matt. PG-13. 789 words. For asouthernthing. Podfic by brimtoast now available here!
Two-Beer Queer
"You," says Adam, one arm around Matt's waist and the other holding his shoes, "definitely do not need one for the road."
"C'mon, man, it's not like I'm driving back to the hotel, unless pressing buttons on the elevator counts as driving, in which case can we, like, somehow keep kids from running onto elevators and pressing all of the buttons before they're legal age?"
"Definitely time to go," says Adam, walking a sock-footed Matt out of the hotel bar and down the service corridor, away from cameras and prying eyes. But Matt's not exactly dead weight in his arms, for all that he's tilting and shuffling his feet, and when he reaches to press the button for their floor, his aim is unerring.
"You're a good friend, you know that, Adam?" he says. "You're a good, good friend. The best. Well, maybe not the best, because I've got a list, but you're definitely on it. The list, I mean."
"As opposed to what, exactly?"
"As opposed to...on something else," he says, leaning against Adam instead of the elevator wall, even when Adam tries to prop him up. "How many more floors before your room?"
"Three," says Adam, "which is exactly how many floor it is to your room, too."
"Right, right," says Matt. "Doesn't matter which room we go to, they're all the same. They've all got a bed."
"Yes, except mine has my bed and yours has yours."
Adam's hard pressed not to smile, though, as Matt rests his head against his shoulder and sways gently like the elevator is rocking him, even though it's almost impossible to tell they're even in motion. When the elevator stops, Matt starts moving towards the door right away before hesitating and letting Adam help him out and down the hallway, once or twice reaching out with his free hand to trail his fingers along the wall.
"All right, here we are, give me your key card," says Adam, and Matt fumbles a few times, at least once running his hand over Adam's ass instead of his own, before managing to pull it out of his back pocket. When Adam gets them through the door, before he even manages to get a light on, Matt is stumbling forward and somehow manages to get Adam pressed up against the mirrored door of the closet as the room door swings solidly shut behind them.
"I'm a little drunk," he says, bracing himself against the door with one hand and not moving away.
"Yeah, I noticed that," says Adam.
"Which is good," says Matt, "because if I wasn't drunk, I probably wouldn't do this." And then he's leaning in and pressing his lips to Adam's and, well, Adam isn't pushing him away. First, because Matt's kiss isn't crooked or sloppy or in any way out of control and second because, well, he doesn't actually want to once Matt's lips are actually on his.
"You're not actually that drunk, are you?" he says accusingly when Matt moves his lips away, letting his face fall towards Adam's shoulder.
Matt hesitates, then says, "I'm a little drunk. I'm drunk enough to pretend to be really drunk to get your hands all over me?"
"So, drunk enough to be lame, then," says Adam, shaking his head at him and letting his thumb slip up under the edge of Matt's shirt to find bare skin.
"Is this the part where you put me to bed anyway?" says Matt. "Even after that awesome kiss?"
"Yes," says Adam, and waits for Matt's sigh before he adds. "With me in it, if you play your cards right. God save me from two-beer queers. I never can resist you."
"I'll have you know I’m a little queer before the beer," says Matt, finally moving away enough that Adam can see his almost-completely-sober expression in the thin light from the window. "Just not sure enough to do anything about it."
"I'm pretty sure that's the actual definition of the expression," says Adam, whole hand up under Matt's shirt and pulling him back for another kiss.
"Will you still respect me in the morning?" Matt asks him, and Adam can feel his smile as he says it. As well as other things as their bodies press together again.
"As much as I ever did," says Adam. From the way that Matt takes a step back, reaches for Adam's hand and moves the the rest of the way into the hotel room, it's clear that Matt knows that's a yes.
Adam's not easy, not by a long shot, but Matt's a friend and pretty easy on the eyes and, well, sometimes it just feels really good to say yes, and have someone say yes in return.
Megan/Matt/Anoop, foodsmut. NC-17. 1156 words. For likealocket
Wet and Whipped
"All right, I've got the whipped cream," said Megan, whipping it out of her oversized handbag and brandishing it happily. "Someone remembered the Irish cream, right? I can't do everything."
"That was my job," said Matt, pointing at it on top of the dresser from where he sat cross-legged on the bed. "Anoop's making coffee. It's probably really shitty coffee, though. It's from the freeze-dried pack he found by the coffeemaker."
"It's not that bad!" protested Anoop, his back to them as he poured the water in.
"Coffee's coffee," said Megan. "It's just the delivery mechanism."
Her hair was a little damp from being the one to have to go out in the rain, but she'd dashed across the street about as fast as traffic would let her so it had only frizzed out a little. Still, it was chilly enough that after she pulled off her damp sweater she still rubbed her arms briskly to warm them up.
"Naw, c'mere, that's my job," said Matt, reaching for the knee of her jeans and almost tipping himself over and he tried to tug her closer.
Megan settled herself between his legs as he unfolded them, and let him wrap his arms around her from behind as she tried to get the top off the whipped cream. "I used to be able to get into these in about five seconds flat, when I was pregnant," she said, finally yanking it off. "Here, open up." She looked back over her shoulder and when Matt opened his mouth she squirted a little inside. "Good?"
"Not bad," he mumbled around a mouthful of whipped cream, "but I've got a better idea." He grabbed the cannister right out of her hand and sprayed a line of whipped cream on her bare forearm, then raised it to his mouth and started sucking it off. It made her feel warmer than the coffee ever could.
"Hey," said Anoop, finally turning around from the tiny, inadequate coffeemaker. "That's not what the whipped cream is for."
"You wouldn't be saying that if I was spraying it on you," said Matt. "Any reason you're still on the other side of the room? Megan's cold."
"Megan's cold," Anoop repeated, shaking his head like he couldn't believe that was the most compelling line Matt could come up with, but he was already stripping his hoodie off and pretty soon Megan had someone up on the bed warming her front, too. "Body heat's the best heat."
"You just made that up, didn't you?" said Matt, spraying some whipped cream on Anoop's shoulder and letting Megan lean in and suck it off, slowly. When her body trembled this time, it had nothing to do with the cold.
"You just wish you'd thought of it first," said Anoop, then reached around her to pull Matt's shirt off too, careful not to squish her between them. "I'll let you do hers, because I'm a gentleman like that."
Megan raised her arms so either one of them or both could take care of business, her t-shirt only damp, not wet, but still clinging to her skin as Matt pulled it up along her arms. "Maybe I should just leave it right here," he murmured in her ear when he was about half way, but in the end Anoop ran his hands up her arms too, pushing the shirt the rest of the way off and dropping it beside the bed.
"So much for our spiked coffee, then, huh?" she said, licking away the last tiny bit of whipped cream lingering on his shoulder.
"We'll save it for after," said Anoop, reaching around for her bra clasp. "Like a cigarette, only more whipped cream and less cancer."
"Sweet talker," said Matt, helping him with the hooks and letting Anoop drop the bra alongside her t-shirt. Then their hands were on her, both of them, warming her skin and her cheeks. When Matt cupped her breasts from behind she let her head roll back and rest on his shoulder, then laughed softly as Anoop sprayed a squirt of whipped cream on each of her nipples and sucked it slowly off again.
"How about I work on these pants?" said Anoop, moving back far enough to undo them. "I bet you're cold under here too."
"Actually, I'm pretty hot under there," she said as she shimmied out of them, and her underwear while they were at it. "But I appreciate the concern."
"Better safe than sorry," he said, moving back to where he'd been before and sliding his hand between her legs. "You know how I like to be thorough."
The pads of Matt's thumbs brushed over her nipples at the exact same moment Anoop's fingers slid into her, and she didn't even pretend this was about anything else anymore. She was anything but cold, and thinking about anything but coffee and Irish cream and watching movies with her boys all night.
"Wait, let me..." she murmured without lifting her head, and shifted so her legs were over Anoop's, spread open and inviting his fingers even deeper, inviting his thumb to rub slow circles on her clit as he finger-fucked her. Matt's lips were on her throat as he pinched and stroked her nipples and she could feel him hard up against her back through the fabric of his sweatpants.
It would have been easy to wrap her legs around one of them, roll them all over and take charge, but it was so nice this time to just lean back and relax and let them do all the work. Warmth curled in her belly so quickly, her skin tingling and her pulse throbbing. When she came she could feel it all over, and only let out a little gasp but they knew, they both knew, and kept touching and stroking her through it until she trembled with the aftershocks.
"Warmer now?" Matt asked against her ear as he just cupped her breasts comfortably again, as Anoop moved his hand away and gently stroked her belly with damp fingertips.
"Mmm, you have no idea," she said, squirming in their embrace and then stretching out, cat-like, as far as they would let her.
"And we hardly got any use out of the whipped cream at all," said Matt, finally letting go of her to pick up the cannister again. "I guess I'll have to find something else to put it on."
"You're not putting whipped cream on my dick," said Anoop, meeting Matt's eyes over her shoulder. She could only imagine the expression on Matt's face.
"You say that now," said Matt, shaking the cannister. "But remember, I do clean up after myself, and I'm not talking about a towel."
Anoop's dick seemed pretty interested after that.
"I'll go turn the coffeepot off," said Megan, sliding out from between them and right off the bed. "I don't think we're going to be needing it for a while."
Kradam and Cookleta. PG-13. 1716 words. For denitta.
Compare and Contrast
Kris knows their situations are a little different, but that doesn't mean he's not paying close attention to the infamous Davids as they interact at the refreshment table. He wouldn't say he's taking notes, exactly, but...well, okay, he's totally taking notes in his head. The way they make eye contact, the way they touch, the way nobody looks at them sideways when they do.
It's different with Adam because Adam is out and proud and everyone reads his body language differently than they would read somebody else's. Somebody straight, Kris corrects himself, because that's what he's really saying here. People expect Adam to be flirting with guys, and that makes all the difference.
"You're just the little voyeur now, aren't you?" says Adam, handing Kris a glass of something that Kris actually really hopes contains some stealth vodka because it's already been a long afternoon of making nice with strange suits and trying to remember how to be normal around Adam without giving away that the bromance of the decade has somehow lost its 'b'. "Trying to catch them doing something?"
"I won't," says Kris, confident in this assessment now that he's been watching them for a while. "There's not even anything to catch. I know about them, so I see it, but no one else seems to see anything."
"People always see something," says Adam, sucking off his plastic stir stick. He really needs not to do that at public Idol gatherings when Kris is wearing tight pants. Or even when he's not. "Just not always what's there. God knows people said things about us a long, long time before there was anything to say."
Archie looks up at David with absolute adoration in his eyes, and Kris wonders what's so different about them that people see something like that and just think it's brotherly, just think it's hero worship, and not the out and out mad-about-you love that Kris knows it actually is.
"I want to touch your arm," says Kris, "and not have our 'epic affair' be front page news tomorrow."
"It wouldn't be front page," says Adam. "Maybe page three. Now a grope, a good grope would get us front page."
"I’m serious," says Kris, but he can't help smiling as he elbows him. He takes a sip of his drink and does an inward cheer that yes, there is something stronger than just coke in it. "I could stop getting in your personal space so much."
"And why would you want to do that?" says Adam. "So you can gaze from afar instead?"
He has a point. Kris's gazes are almost as telling as his touches. "I could cut back on the eye contact."
"I wouldn't mind if you stared at my dick once in a while," murmurs Adam. "Or my arms. You could gaze longingly at my arms, just for a change. I know my eyes are mesmerizing, but there are other important parts of me too."
Kris elbows him again, jostling his drink. "You're not taking me seriously."
"Because you're being ridiculous," says Adam. "You've never cared before what people thought when they looked at us. You were the one who told me not to care."
"There was nothing to see before," says Kris, and in his head that makes all the difference.
"There was always something to see," says Adam, his eyes focusing somewhere in the distance as he takes a sip of his own drink. "It's just a little different now, that's all. People will make of things what they make of them, and there's nothing you can do about that. If you can resist blowing me under the dessert table, I think we'll be fine."
Kris almost chokes on his drink, and is even more sorry for the tight pants now. And the fact that there really is no way he can blow Adam under the...no, he's not even going to go there.
"Now drink up, we still have a few more hours of this to face," Adam goes on. "I told David we'd sit with them at the dinner, though, unless some overzealous assistant has set up seating cards."
Across the yard from them, David's set his hand on top of Archie's head, threading his fingers through his hair, and it's so intimate it makes Kris ache. And it's something Adam would never do with him, not the way they do it. They're so close to one another, yet somehow so different from Kris and Adam.
"I could hug you different," Kris says after another slow sip of his drink, thoughtfully. "A little more arm, a little less full body contact.
"Are you kidding me?" says Adam, staring at him.
It's not that Kris wants to, it's that he doesn't know how to dodge the scrutiny, or even if that's possible. A moment later Adam tugs at him, and Kris instinctively faceplants into his chest as Adam wraps his arms around him.
"Don't change anything at all," says Adam firmly. "We're perfect the way we are."
:::
It's a formal kind of a dinner, a hundred suits they're trying to impress with the talent that American Idol has put out (as if there aren't a dozen other ways to do that), and Kris very carefully makes sure that he and Adam are seated across from one other rather than side by side. The way he's keyed up right now, there's no way he'd be able to keep his hands to himself.
This puts him next to David Cook, and Adam next to Archie, and really thank God he doesn't have to call them both David because that would get confusing so fast. There are no carefully calligraphed placecards on the tables, but even if there had been Kris wouldn't have been surprised to find himself seated next to the previous season's winner.
"Next year there'll be another one of us," says David conversationally as Adam pokes Archie repeatedly in the side in some sort of ridiculous game they've made up on the spot. "My money's on that Kristen girl, if she takes care of her voice and doesn't blow it halfway through the season."
"Blow what?" says Adam, looking up with a perfect poker face that Kris has always envied.
"Yeah, you would join us for that part," says Kris, and when his eyes flick to the side he definitely does not miss the silent and pointed gaze that Archie directs in David's direction. Yeah, blow something all right, he thinks, and is glad he's at least sitting down now.
"Are you talking about this season?" says Archie, picking up his wine glass to play with the rim of it. "I haven't seen any of it yet. Is that terrible? I should've tried to watch some by now."
"You just got back from Canada," says David. "I think you're allowed to not be caught up yet."
"They show it in Canada too!" he says earnestly. "I was just so tired I went to bed instead."
"Bed, uh huh, right," mutters David all too knowingly, and Kris tries to hid his smile. Unsuccessfully.
"You haven't missed much yet," says Adam. "I've got my eye on Kristen, though. Kristen and Adam."
"You just like him because his name's Adam," Kris accuses him, but Adam just shrugs and a moment later he feels Adam's socked foot rubbing at his ankle.
"Name or not, he's not going to get much further unless he quits it with the light rock ballads," says David. "No matter how pretty he sounds."
"I've got to root for him anyway," says Adam, his foot pushing Kris's pantleg up to get higher. "His voice isn't the only thing that's pretty."
Archie and David laugh, but Kris just shakes his head. "Pretty can get you a long way," he says, and he guesses he would know about that, even though he knows it was talent that got him to the end. "Do I have some competition?"
"Not on the entire planet," says Adam, then seems to remember they're not alone at the table and clears his throat. Kris blushes and figures, when in Rome, and kicks his shoe off to play a little at Adam's ankle too. He just earned it, right there.
Archie grins and makes a gagging motion, and wow, they must be pretty sickening right now if they've earned a gag from David Archuleta of all people. Kris is strangely proud of that, actually. He's not the kind of guy that goes for sweet public declarations, but when he manages to get one it's still kind of nice.
"So if Kristen and Adam make the final two," says David, "does that mean they have to hook up? It's tradition now."
"Wow," says Kris. "You've just given me a vision of Ruben Studdard and Clay Aiken that no amount of vodka in my coke is ever going to get rid of."
"Of all the six available seasons, you went there?" says Adam. "Oh, the things I have yet to learn about you, Kristopher Allen." Kris blushes and shuts up while he's ahead. "Besides, I'm about ninety-six percent sure Kristen plays for our team."
"Also a tradition," says David, raising his water glass and earning himself a four-way toast. It's still a little weird for Kris, being included in that, but since he's been sleeping with Adam Lambert, he sort of can't deny it.
"It might be Kristen and Kym in the final two," Archie offers.
Now that, Kris thinks, is a mental image much more to his tastes. Which he guesses the look on his face has given away from the smirk Adam gives him and the gentle pressure of Adam's foot on his.
"As long as we're making up random traditions," he says finally, feeling himself blush again under the knowing scrutiny, "I think the K in their names gives them a distinct advantage."
"Fair point," says David, raising his glass again. "To the American Idol finalists, old and new. May they enjoy everything that we have."
As Adam's foot slowly begins to climb higher on his leg and as he sees the adoring gaze that David is giving Archie, Kris thinks that's definitely something he can drink to. And celebrate in other ways, too, but that'll definitely have to wait till later.
Allison/Megan, futurefic. NC-17. 1445 words. For orihara_kaoru
Cookies
Allison played Salt Lake City on a Thursday night, and rocked their fucking faces right the fuck off. That was what Allison Fucking Iraheta did.
After the show, shockingly blue hair stringy with sweat and tied back carelessly with a length of shoelace, she drained half a beer in one swallow, kicked her booted feet up onto the vanity and was just leaning back in her chair when she heard the door to her dressing room open.
"Miss Megan Joy is that you?" she hollered in that general direction. "If it's not, whoever it is you'd better get the hell out of my dressing room! Unless you have cookies!"
"I put the last of my cookies in Ryder's lunchbox this morning," said Megan, crossing her arms and wandering into Allison's range of vision, "but I know a great place to get some if you're into that."
"Forget that, girl!" said Allison. "Get over here!" She did a less than graceful tumble out of her chair then wrapped her arms around Megan, lifting her right off the ground. "Did you bring him with you?"
"Past his bedtime," said Megan as Allison put her back down, "and I'm not sure he's quite old enough for the kind of show you put on. He's spending the night with my mother."
"What, you don't want your kid cursing like a sailor till he's at least ten?" said Allison. "That's why you're the mom and I'm the rock star. Hey, though, Mama, c'mere and check out my new ink!"
She pulled her sweaty shirt right off - high time anyway - to show Megan the back of her shoulder.
"Nice," said Megan, tracing her fingers around the finally-healed edges of it. "That's good work. So hey, Entertainment Tonight tells me you broke up with that girl from Electric Parade. Sorry to hear that, baby girl."
"Old news," said Allison dismissively. "Like, three weeks ago old, and we were only ever fucking, you know? Like, it was totally nothing serious. They tried to make it into this big Lilo-style drama but it totally wasn't."
"If only they'd known how many queer folk we actually had on the Idol tour back in the day," said Megan, snapping Allison's bra strap. "They'd have done up our venues in rainbow flags."
"Can you believe someone actually asked me once if it was Adam's influence?" said Allison, cackling hard. "I was like, shit, son, the one thing Adam Lambert did not teach me was how to munch rug."
"If only you hadn't been seventeen," said Megan, finding a chair and straddling it while Allison looked around for something to change into. "You'd've been rolling in it."
"I do well enough now to make up for it," said Allison, raising an eyebrow at her and smirking. "Unless that was an offer. Cause that would sure beat watching you in the shower."
Megan looked shocked for a moment, then laughed. "You watched me in the shower?"
"I was seventeen," said Allison, from her much-advanced age of twenty-two. "I was just a big ball of confused hormones. I watched everyone in the shower, given half a chance."
Megan crooked a finger at her and Allison didn't even consider not going closer, leaning forward onto her knees so that her face was level with Megan's. Then Megan reached into her hair, pulled the shoelace loose and combed her fingers loosely through it.
"Good thing you're not seventeen now," she said.
"You'd better not be a damn tease, Megan Joy," she growled at her, as Megan twisted a lock of Allison's hair around her fingers, "because I'm pumped right full of adrenaline right now and if I have to leave this dressing room with blue balls I'm going to make some very fucking bad life choices."
"I don't have to pick up Ryder from my mom's till tomorrow," she said, "and you sure grew up nice. You want to see if all this lives up to your fantasies?"
"I think you have no idea what kind of fantasies I have," said Allison, "but hell if I'm going to say no when you offer it to me on a platter like that. Just don't you dare go anywhere while I hope in the shower and get all this stage crap off me. If you're not right there when I come back out here I will hunt you down."
"How about," said Megan, swinging her leg over the chair and standing up again, "you don't have to go hunting for me at all? Don't need to hunt me down if I'm already right there."
"I like the way you think," said Allison, shaking her hair out and unbuttoning her skintight pants, peeling them down her legs and tossing them carelessly over the chair Megan vacated. Someone else would take care of them later, she didn't need to worry about it. "This way, girl."
The shower was large, made to accommodate some pretty hefty men and more than big enough for two girls and all their curves. "You gonna soap me up, pretty lady?" said Allison as she stepped under the spray, looking back at Megan and then laughing as she tilted her head back, letting the falling water flatting her hair against her.
A moment later she felt Megan's breasts pressed up against her, Megan's knee between her legs and Megan's arms reaching around her. "Soap's behind you, baby girl," she said, right against her ear, and in case Allison thought that was just a line, a moment later she felt Megan's soapy hand run all the way down her back, from shoulderblades to tailbone. "Is that what you had in mind?"
"It's a hell of a start," said Allison, and really there wasn't much she liked more than getting clean and dirty at the same time. Megan rolled her hips against her as her hand came up Allison's back again, grinding in just exactly the right away between her legs. "Better be just a start."
"You have no patience at all, do you?" said Megan, licking her ear.
"Nope," said Allison unapologetically. "Never did. And you should know that."
"Any other day I'd teach you something about it," she said, hands moving to give Allison's ass a good squeeze, "but there's nothing slow about this tonight."
"I'm too wired for slow," said Allison, trying to force things along by grinding back against Megan's leg. "I can slow down when the tour's over. Right now everything's fast and hard."
Megan's hands weren't fast and hard when they slid around front, slid over her breasts and toyed with the nipples, but Allison didn't have a single complaint about that. "God I want to fuck you," she said. "I've wanted to fuck you for five years."
"Then we'd better do five years worth of fucking tonight," said Megan, hands moving down, still slick and soapy, over Allison's belly and her hips and then finally, mercifully, between her legs.
"Oh, Christ, girl," said Allison, looking heavenward and reaching her arms above her head to wrap both hands around the showerhead and hang on.
Megan worked her fingers over her clit, rubbing harder and faster the way Allison practically demanded she to it, sliding her hand back to pump her fingers inside her once, twice, five times hard, then back to her clit again. Over and over again till Allison was finally speechless and trembling. She couldn't even say anything as her orgasm hit, so hard her grip on the the showerhead the only thing keeping her standing.
"Like that?" said Megan with a perfectly innocent smile, then finally leaned in and kissed her. Allison hadn't realized just how much she wanted that kiss, long and slow and hot, until she practically melted into it, letting go of the shower so she could finally run her hands all over Megan's body.
When the kiss ended and Megan stepped back, Allison reached for the wall to brace herself, left gasping for breath.
She let the hot water run over both of them for a little while, washing them clean, then turned the tap off blind, both hands groping behind her, figuring her hair could damn well wait. She took a moment to get control of her legs again, then used the tap to push herself upright.
"Get your clothes on," she said, giving Megan's wet ass a playful smack. "I've got a hotel suite for the night and a king-sized bed with your name on it. God as my witness I'm going to eat you out till you can't even walk anymore. If we've only got one night, we'd damn well better make the most of it."
Matt/Anoop. R. 900 words. For lovealwaysliana
See You In LA
When Matt zipped up his suitcase, looked out the window one more time and then turned towards the door, he didn't expect to find Anoop bodily blocking it, hands braced against the walls so that nothing could pass.
"Ooooookay," he said, taking his ball cap off for a moment so that he could scratch his head. "You trying to tell me that I forgot something?"
"No," said Anoop. "Well, you probably did. You usually do. But that's not what this is...." He looked from side to side at the way he was braced in front of the hotel room door. "Does this look as ridiculous as it feels?"
"Kind of, yeah," said Matt, putting his hat back on again. "I'm figuring you're going to tell me what it's about eventually, though, and I'm willing to wait because I'm betting it's gonna be good."
Anoop lowered his arms. "You can't leave yet," he said. "I just wanted to make sure."
"Well, check out's in an hour," he said, "and I have a flight tonight. So I do eventually have to leave. Which, I know, sucks, but we're going to meet up in LA, right? We have plans. Big plans, you and me."
"Big plans," said Anoop. "You and me. But not big enough."
"Taking over the world isn't big enough for you?" said Matt, still playing it off as a joke even though he had no idea where Anoop was going with it. Because had no idea where Anoop was going with this, actually. "I'm not sure space travel is advanced enough for us to take over other planets yet, though I suppose Adam's home world might be an option."
"Do you ever shut up?"
"You've known me for a year," said Matt. "What do you think?"
"Do you think you could shut up long enough for me to blow you?"
That did shut him up. For a few moments anyway. "Technically," he said finally, because seriously, what did someone say to something like that, "if you were blowing me, I wouldn't have to shut up."
"Wow," said Anoop. "I body block your door to be able to say that to you, and that's what your response is?"
"Well, you're not serious, right?" said Matt, though he wasn't sure of that at all, suddenly. "Right?"
Anoop shrugged. "I meant to offer, like, a week ago," he admitted, "but we got busy and time kind of got away from me and now, like. It's our last chance. Right here and right now. If you walk out that door right now I might never blow you, and I'm not sure I can live with that."
"Wow, okay," said Matt, letting the suitcase fall. It was pretty clear now that Anoop wasn't making fun of him, and was, in fact, pretty oblivious to the fact that there was no possible way the answer was ever going to be no. Today, a week ago, a month ago, ever.
"Yes, I can blow you, or yes, you agree that I'm never going to blow you if you walk out that door?"
"Well, okay, first thing," said Matt, "is that I never turn down a blowjob. Like, ever. And second thing, you're going to see me in two weeks. If you think you're going to change your mind about blowing me in two weeks, then are you sure you really want to be doing it in the first place?"
"Everything's going to change now," he said. "The tour's over. American Idol is over. I used to have my whole life planned out and now I don't even know what the world's going to look like in two weeks."
"The world's going to look exactly the same," said Matt, "except that Adam will probably have another magazine cover, another hundred wide-eyed kids with no idea what they're in for will be headed for Hollywood, and you and I will be looking for an apartment in LA. Where, I might add, I will still want you to blow me. In case that was your next question."
"Actually, my next question was whether you wanted it right there, or you wanted to mess up the bed one last time," he said, "but I'm good with that answer too. Maybe we can have Adam's old apartment after he buys a mansion somewhere. Between the two of us, we can probably afford it."
"That's actually not a bad thought," admitted Matt as he unbuckled his belt and popped the top button of his jeans. "You know, if we get on the bed I can blow you too."
Both of Anoop's eyebrows we3nt up. "So you're into that?"
"You're an idiot," said Matt. "Get on the bed already and I'll show you just what I'm into. And what I'll still be into two weeks from now when I have more than an hour to get it on with you."
Anoop didn't waste any time getting on the bed, which was more than Matt could say about the last week of him not asking Matt if he could blow him. Though to be fair, Matt hadn't said anything for, oh, the past year, either, so he didn't have a lot of room to talk.
All they could do now was make up for lost time. And with their whole lives open in front of them now, there would be plenty of opportunities for that.
Adam/Kris/Matt. R. 1193 words. For asouthernthing
What Happens in the Mansion
Kris found out about them entirely by accident. He hadn't even suspected anything, which was actually saying a lot because he and Adam spent about eighteen hours a day together and that didn't leave a lot of room for secrets. He had no idea at all until one day he got back early after spending some time with Katy (apparently the one time when Adam counted on him not coming back early) and walked in on Matt on his knees.
Matt was pretty quick to yank his pants on and leave without meeting Kris's eyes. Adam was almost as quick to put pants on, but pretty much had nowhere to go. Kris, well, Kris was at a loss for words at first, jamming his hands in his pockets and wondering if he should stay or go or just pretend he hadn't seen anything.
Well, actually, the last one wasn't much of an option.
"Him, really?" he said finally, then quickly corrected himself. "I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that! I just always figured...." It was a little embarrassing now, but he might as well just out with it. "I always figured if you hooked up with anyone here, it would be me."
Adam just sort of stared at him, and Kris wondered how he could have been so wrong about it. "You're married," he blurted out finally. "To my favorite girl in the entire state of Arkansas. And you thought I would...."
"But I told you," said Kris, and it was his turn to stare in confusion. "I told you that what happens in the house stays in the house."
"But I didn't think you meant it!" said Adam. "That's the kind of thing people just say but when it comes down to it, it always matters."
"It's not like that," said Kris, not that it really mattered now since Adam was with Matt, Matt who was pretty much the opposite of Kris. So much for figuring he was just Adam's type. "Me and Katy, practically our whole relationship has been long distance. She knows that nothing that I do here will change the fact that I love her, and I know the same about her. I thought you understood."
"I didn't...are you kidding me?" said Adam. "I would've been on my knees for you our first night together if I'd known you meant it. Nobody means it. How was I supposed to know that the sweetest, most stable couple I've ever met is the one that actually has an open relationship?"
"Maybe we're the sweetest, most stable couple you've ever met because we don't get all weird about stuff like this. If Katy was here, she might even want in on it. I mean, obviously not, because you don't do girls, but I'm just saying. If you did."
Adam pressed his hand to his forehead like it was paining him, rubbing with his thumb and his forefinger.
"But hey, it doesn't have to get weird now, right?" said Kris. "It's not a big deal. But we should work out, I don't know, some kind of sock system? For when I shouldn't walk in on you?"
It was really, really unfortunate timing that right that moment there was a knock at the door. "Uh, guys?" said Matt. "I sort of forgot something important. Can I just...I'll only be a second."
Adam lowered his hand and looked at Kris as he called out, "Give us about two seconds," and chewed on his lip for a moment. "Me and Matt, we're just fooling around."
"Yeah," said Kris, smiling a little. "If I'd known he was into it, I would've fooled around with him too, back when we were roommates. But all he could talk about were all the chicks he thought were hot."
"What I mean is," said Adam, though he had definitely heard what Kris said to him, "that just because me and Matt are fooling around, doesn't mean you and I can't." There was a thump at the door, probably Matt's back slumping against it as he waited for them. "Or...you and me and Matt?"
"Wow, I...." Kris thought about that for a moment, let the not-unwelcome mental images swirl around in his brain. "Never considered that option. But I would, you know...." He shrugged a little shyly, and looked up at Adam with that smile still on his face. "I think I might be into that. You know, give it a try. I'll try anything once."
Adam looked at the door, then took the couple steps it took to close the space between them and gave Kris a swift, hard kiss. "Next time, beat it into my head a little harder, would you? That's three weeks of quality blowjob time we've missed."
"You know I do more than blowjobs, right?" Kris was saying, right as Adam opened the door on Matt's impatient face.
"Okay then," he said after a brief and awkward pause. "I, uh, left my underwear on the windowsill. I'll just be a second."
"No rush," said Adam and he looked at Kris again, like he needed confirmation about this. When Kris nodded he closed the door, closed and locked it to avoid a repeat. "We were just talking about you."
Matt looked from one to the other, underwear balled up in his hand. "I'm pretty sure that's not what you were talking about," he said, but by the time he got to the end of the sentence Adam was by his side, his hand flat on Matt's stomach, close and intimate.
"Don't be too sure," said Kris, hands back in his pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels, just a slow sway. "But only if you'd be into it. I mean, no weird pressure or anything, it's just supposed to be fun."
Adam's hand slipped down till his fingers were just sliding inside the front of Matt's pants. "Yeah, I didn't see that one coming either," he said, "but it would be fun, right? Just fooling around."
"Oh for fuck's sake, Allen, you couldn't have brought this up months ago?" Matt blurted out when he finally found something to say again.
"Yeah, that's what I said," said Kris, grinning at him. "So yeah? Are we all good to go? I don't want to take my pants off and then find out that someone's having second thoughts."
"Didn't you just come from seeing your wife?" said Matt. "She have a headache tonight or something."
Kris shook his head, finally reaching for the buttons of his jeans. "No, it was great," he said. "I just like sex." He gave them both a little shrug, and did he really need to explain more than that? "But I love her."
"Yeah, okay," said Matt. "Yeah, okay, I get it. I get that." Finally, Kris thought, because he was starting to think they just weren't into him. "But if I can make a suggestion, I sort of left Adam hanging earlier...."
"I like that suggestion," said Kris, and from the look on his face, Adam liked that suggestion too. "And I think I know what I can do to help."
Kradam+Brad, Burning Man. PG-13. 836 words. For azrielen
New School
"This is so old school," said Brad, and even after the long drive to get up here he still seemed completely fascinated by the shag carpeting, lying on his stomach and running his hands through it. "You've got a van."
"Technically I borrowed a van," said Kris, sliding his sunglasses on as he he looked out at the stretch of bare earth and sky. "Katy's cousin always comes through with stuff like this. We just need to get it back to him in one piece."
"And without suspicious stains?" said Brad, rolling over onto his back and wiggling his butt on the shag.
"He didn't say anything about stains," said Kris, finally turning back to where Brad was stretching his skinny arms out over his head and Adam was hauling a cooler out of the van to start setting up their camp.
"No jerking off in the van," Adam supplied, though, then turned to Kris. "He will, if you let him. I thought you should know."
"That's not what I meant," protested Brad, rolling back over onto his stomach to finally crawl out of the van. "Stains are much more fun when made with company."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," said Kris. "I mean, who wants to eat ice cream alone, right?"
He actually managed to keep a straight face for as long as it took for Brad to turn to Adam, mouth hanging open, and say, "Is he for real?" But no longer than that, breaking into a grin as soon as Brad got the words out. "Oh, I'll show you eating ice cream," he said, pinching Kris's ass. "Dick."
"Yeah, I think that's the idea," said Adam, slumping down onto the cooler and taking a break. "You think maybe you could make some contribution instead of shimmying around in those short shorts?"
"But that is my contribution to this enterprise," said Brad, shimmying. "Your boy here needs an education, and I am here to provide!"
"I consider myself pretty educated already," said Kris, watching Adam rummage around in his pockets for the joint Kris remembered him stashing there the last time they stopped for gas.
"Not for the things I could educate you about," he insisted, reaching right into Adam's pants pocket and fishing it out, and getting a good grope in while he was at it.
"How do you do it?" Kris asked before he stopped to think about it, while Brad's hand was stuffed in Adam's other pocket looking for a lighter. They both looked up at him. "I mean, I don't exactly have a lot of exes, but I'm not like this with any of them."
Brad yanked his hand back out, and held up the lighter. "Oh, first of all, we need to be high for this conversation," he said. "And second of all, you only have one ex, and you haven't been apart long enough to start hooking up again yet."
"Except that one time," mumbled Kris, and kind of hoped they didn't hear, actually. Though, from the look on Adam's face, he did at the very least. "So you weren't always?"
Adam yanked Brad down into his lap as he lit the joint, taking a hit and passing it to him. As soon as he had it, though, Brad gave a little wiggle in Adam's lap and then got up again, swaggering over to Kris and offering him the joint once he had a lungful of smoke.
"My first ex-boyfriend slashed the tires on my car," he said, a bit of smoke escaping as he spoke.
"My first ex-boyfriend told the rest of the cast I had a small dick," said Adam, tilting his head back to exhale. "I'm not exactly proud of what I did to prove him wrong."
"My first ex-boyfriend stole my bike," said Kris. When both of them stared at him he added, "We were six. But he kissed me, so it totally counts."
"Absolutely," laughed Adam, and Kris grinned at him and finally brought the joint up to his lips. His first Burning Man festival, so he might as well start the thing out right.
When he tried to offer the joint back to Brad, though, he shook his head and waved it off, then closed his eyes and opened his mouth and Kris suddenly knew exactly what he was looking for. He hesitantly put his hand on his hip first, then when there was not a word of protest he lowered his lips to exhale smoke into Brad's mouth.
"Mmm, bring that back over here," said Adam when Kris moved his head away again to look at Brad's still-closed eyes, eyelashes fluttering as he slowly exhaled. "It's going to be a great week."
Kris still really didn't know what to expect, from any of this, but when he brought the joint back over to Adam, and Adam waved it off and closed his own eyes, parting his lips, Kris had to agree.
It was going to be a week to remember.