AI8 fic: Patience
Title: Patience
Author: dark_orion
Pairing: Kradam
Rating: NC-17, for briefly mentioned sexy!times
Summary: Kris has been waiting patiently for the right time to act. Oneshot.
Author's Notes: This was supposed to be a short little drabble to make me feel better now that Idol's over. I started it at work (handwritten again, so you know what that means... X_X), but it just grew. Not huge, but I don't think I can consider it a drabble anymore. I blame Kradam for being so cute--this was one of those things where I was thinking "How would it happen if Kradam -----?" and thus this was born. As always, I own nothing, though I don't have to say it never happened because, hey, set in the future, you never know. ;)
Patience
by dark_orion
Kris is a very patient man.
He waits for months, after the show ends, after the tour winds its way around the country, after his and Adam’s albums have both come out to stellar reviews and a Top Ten Billboard debut, till they’ve both had singles list in the Hot 100-and Kris doesn’t begrudge Adam cracking the Top Ten there first, because he has plenty of patience to spare to wait the week it takes for one of his songs to do the same.
He waits for years, after he has passed the torch to his American Idol successor, after he and Adam have completed their combined world tour-and yes, Adam had hit big in Europe-after he and Adam have both completed tours of their own, after their debut albums have gone platinum more than once and talk has moved on to their sophomore efforts.
Kris waits and watches, because even though he’s ready, not everything is similarly prepared. He becomes a devoted viewer of MSNBC in general and Countdown with Keith Olbermann in particular, occasionally checking up with The Daily Show and The O’Reilly Factor because the truth sometimes emerges first in curious places. He listens to the now to get ready for then and weathers when Adam teases him for becoming so politically minded.
It stretches even Kris’ patience to near breaking, but finally, midterm elections, Republicans losing more seats by playing to their ultra-conservative base and sending forth right wing nutjobs from their primaries to general elections, where they promptly and handily lose to their Democratic counterparts, just by opening their mouths once, because the vast majority of voters aren’t that fucking crazy. ConservaDems seem to suffer as well, and Keith Olbermann and John Stewart both cheerfully proclaim-and Bill O’Reilly bitterly bemoans-this the most liberally minded House and Senate, regarding social issues at least, in recent history, perhaps in history, period.
Still, Kris waits, and sure enough, it happens. President Obama, in his second term, riding a wave of well-met social reforms, finally comes through on a campaign promise hinted at when he first ran for President and expanded upon for his bid for renewal, and Kris knows that now…now it’s finally time to act.
~~~~
Adam is in Las Vegas, performing at a one-night-only concert with Queen, promoting the band’s release of a digital anthology of their remastered albums. Adam had been so thrilled to be asked to stand in for the late Freddie Mercury that Kris had had to sit him down and make him breathe as he nearly hyperventilated himself into passing out after Adam’s agent had called with the news.
Kris braves paparazzi and rabid fans to fly to Las Vegas for the show. When he arrives at the venue, he is immediately shown backstage, where he finds Adam in hair and makeup. When Adam sees Kris, he leaps out of the chair like he and Kris hadn’t seen each other just two days ago, almost losing an eye doing so because the makeup artist had been putting the finishing touches on his eyeliner. As it is, Adam escapes with just a stray streak of eyeliner from eye to hairline, ignoring the makeup artist’s surprised squeak as he sweeps Kris up in an excited hug, forcing Kris to rise up on his toes to keep from being lifted clear off his feet.
Kris can feel the grin as Adam’s lips brush over his cheek as he withdraws in their familiar, favorite greeting, as close to a public kiss as they’ve been able to come, intimate, but nothing that can’t be written off as accidental contact.
“Hey, babe.” Kris can see how much effort it takes for Adam to keep the greeting quiet when he’s almost bouncing with energy and excitement. Before Kris can respond, Adam continues, “You do realize that now that you’re here, you’re totally going on stage with me tonight.”
Kris takes a step back, barely evading Adam’s hands, which are trying to corral him into the makeup chair. “No way, man! This is all about you. I’d just get in the way-”
“Never happen,” Adam interrupts, employing skills known only to puppies, small children, and Adam Lambert, to set his face in an expression guaranteed to get Kris to agree, all expectant hope and eagerness and “you don’t want to disappoint me, do you?” “C’mon, it’ll be awesome, like a mini Idol reunion. Everybody will love it!”
Kris can feel himself giving in, and he tries to pull back. “But I haven’t rehearsed with you guys. It’ll be a train wreck.”
Adam snorted. “Please, you could harmonize with a foghorn. And you can’t tell me you don’t already know all the words to every song Queen’s ever released. I’ve seen your music collection; you can’t lie to me.”
Adam’s already got a hold of Kris’ arm and is pulling him towards makeup when Kris tries one more time. “But what about the others? I’m sure they wouldn’t-”
As if summoned by the lameness of Kris’ excuse, Brian May rounds the corner, aiming for the hair station before spotting Kris and coming over to shake hands. “Kris, nice to finally see you again.”
Kris goes a little tongue-tied because even as an official celebrity himself, this is still Brian Goddamn May. “Thanks. Uh, you, too.”
As their handshake ends, Brian keeps a hold of his hand and narrows his eyes at Kris. “So, you going to jam with us tonight?”
“Uh…”
“Totally,” Adam replies for him, slinging an arm around Kris’ shoulders and smiling widely. “Couldn’t be more ready.”
Kris shoots a glare at Adam before turning back to Brian. “Uh, yeah, absolutely.”
“Fantastic.” And with a final squeeze to Kris’ hand, Brian turns and drops into a chair at the hair station. “I’ll let the guys know we’ll be saving ‘Champions’ for last.”
As Kris stands there, wide-eyed and gape-mouthed, because that can’t have just happened, he can’t possibly be getting the chance to repeat one of the greatest moments in his life, because seriously, no one gets that freaking lucky, Adam takes advantage of his distraction and plunks him down in the makeup chair.
“Give him the works,” Adam tells the still recovering makeup woman, with a sly grin, before turning back to the mirror to inspect his own makeup, noticing for the first time the stray eyeliner mark on his face. “Oh, hey…that looks cool,” he says, examining it, then sets about embellishing it, turning accident to artistry.
Kris watches him, feeling his expression change from shocked to fond, trying to tamp down on the excitement he can feel building because if he lets his anticipation get away from him, he’ll never make it through the night, but God, it’s hard, because tonight…tonight he’s going to-
~~~~
After waging war to keep the makeup down to foundation and eyeliner-yes, he’d caved on that, but the lip-gloss so wasn’t happening-Kris figures the actual performance will be easy by comparison. He’d managed to keep Adam from dragging him onstage until the final two numbers. It’s not that Kris doesn’t want to perform with Adam and Queen-because he’s not stupid-or that he’s nervous about singing with them-because though he doesn’t know the words to every Queen song, despite what Adam says, he does know all those to the set list tonight. It’s just that this is Adam’s time to shine, not his, and some days he still feels guilty that he won Idol instead of Adam, though Adam would be the first to tell him he is being ridiculous and of course he deserved to win and everything had turned out just fine, hadn’t it, should Kris ever tell him so. However, between Adam’s insistence and Brian May’s expectation, Kris hadn’t a prayer of resisting, so when the opening strains of “Under Pressure” ring out and Kris hears Adam’s introduction for him, Kris strides out on stage, and even with the surprised and excited screams of thousands of audience members ringing in his ears, he only has eyes for the man center stage, welcoming him with a bright smile and arms spread wide.
~~~~
“Under Pressure” is a hit with the fans, but the crowd practically howls its pleasure as they tear into “We Are the Champions,” throwing Kris a bit because he hadn’t really expected anyone to recognize the significance of Adam and him sharing the song, not after all this time. But remember they do, and he almost can’t finish the song, he’s smiling so hard.
~~~~
After the show ends and after the media circus following winds down, they head to the back of the venue, where a limo is waiting for them. As Adam finishes up his goodbyes to Brian May & Co., Kris has a word with the driver, Eli, who responds with a grin and a half salute before opening the door for Kris.
Adam soon slides in next to him, quirking an eyebrow at Eli’s knowing grin. “What’s that about?”
“Nothing.” Kris is going for “nonchalant,” but knows his acting skills are for shit. “I just asked him to take the long way to the hotel. Give us a chance to take in the sights, you know.”
“Right,” Adam says slowly, patently disbelieving, but obviously willing to play along, as he turns the conversation to other things. They catch up on the eternity that was their two days apart, keeping their hands as much to themselves as possible because it’s best not to start things they can’t finish at the moment, particularly with a witness about.
Finally the car stops, and Adam turns to look out his window, frowning as he takes in where they are. “I thought we were going back to the hotel,” Adam says, and Kris can hear a slight whine in his voice because while they were talking on the phone the night before, Adam had made quite clear his plans for Kris once he got him alone.
Adam squints out the window again, voice going confused. “Hey…is that…?” Adam’s head snaps back around to Kris, eyes wide, mouth hanging open slightly as his voice stutters to a halt.
Kris is watching Adam intently, bouncing a little in his seat, nervous because he and Adam have never really talked about it. Kris sort of flutters his hand towards the window, towards the small, white building it’s framing, and says, “So, you wanna…?”
Adam’s mouth twitches toward a smile, fragile around the edges. “You’re joking.”
“Not even a little,” Kris replies as his expression goes serious.
The tentative upturning of Adam’s lips turns into a full-blown grin, and Adam grabs Kris face in both hands and kisses him deeply, thoroughly before grabbing his hand and pulling Kris out of the limo and towards The Little White Chapel.
~~~~
They opt for the full Elvis special, because how could they not? And as they’re straightening clothing and running fingers through performance-mussed hair, Adam pauses briefly, as if remembering something, then resumes primping, grin that hasn’t left his face since they left the limo turning mischievous. “You know, our parents are going to kill us for doing this without them.”
Kris grins back at him. “Probably, yeah.” He raises an eyebrow. “Think we should wait?”
Adam tilts his head, giving his best attempt at pretending to consider it before giving up. He pulls Kris in to him, and before their lips meet, he whispers, “Nah.”
~~~~
The ceremony is quick and to the point. Kris laughs as Adam’s face goes slightly panicked when the Elvis look-alike presiding over the ceremony asks if they would like to exchange rings, and produces the ring he bought for Adam.
He’d had the ring custom made two years ago, back when he’d first made up his mind to do this as soon as the political climate turned in his favor. It doesn’t look terribly much like a wedding ring, made of platinum, nearly a half-inch wide, though flat around the finger, the seemingly abstract symbols etched into it resolving into their astrological signs woven elegantly together.
Adam examines it carefully, almost reverently. He cocks an eyebrow jokingly, but Kris can hear the slight wobble in his voice when he says, “Sure of yourself, weren’t you?”
Kris just smiles back, unable to speak because of the way his breath catches in his throat as he slides the ring into its appropriate place on Adam’s outstretched left hand.
Not to be outdone, Adam reaches up to remove the chain from around his neck where it had been lying under his shirt, the chain that holds his grandfather’s ring. Shrugging aside the token protest Kris puts up, Adam slides the ring off the chain and onto Kris’ finger, where it sits as if made for him. “See,” Adam says, and the moisture in his eyes prompts corresponding wetness in Kris’, “meant for you.”
~~~~
Everything after that is a blur, the end of the ceremony, the rush out to the limo, the drive to the hotel, even the playful fight over who carries whom over the threshold.
What isn’t a blur is, after they’ve closed and locked the hotel room door, how Adam touches him like it’s the first time, how Adam’s hand on his waist sears through him, how when Kris strokes his left hand down the side of Adam’s face from temple to jaw, his shudder feels soul-deep, how when Adam fucks him, it feels like he’s deeper inside Kris than he’s ever been, how when Adam says, “I love you,” afterwards, he means “till death do us part.”
~~~~
In the morning, as they take turns explaining to their parents why the front page of the Los Angeles Times has a picture of them emerging hand in hand from The Little White Chapel, they sit curled together, left hands intertwined, smiling like idiots at each other as their parents vent, and Kris knows that all that time patiently endured was well worth it.
~
Author: dark_orion
Pairing: Kradam
Rating: NC-17, for briefly mentioned sexy!times
Summary: Kris has been waiting patiently for the right time to act. Oneshot.
Author's Notes: This was supposed to be a short little drabble to make me feel better now that Idol's over. I started it at work (handwritten again, so you know what that means... X_X), but it just grew. Not huge, but I don't think I can consider it a drabble anymore. I blame Kradam for being so cute--this was one of those things where I was thinking "How would it happen if Kradam -----?" and thus this was born. As always, I own nothing, though I don't have to say it never happened because, hey, set in the future, you never know. ;)
Patience
by dark_orion
Kris is a very patient man.
He waits for months, after the show ends, after the tour winds its way around the country, after his and Adam’s albums have both come out to stellar reviews and a Top Ten Billboard debut, till they’ve both had singles list in the Hot 100-and Kris doesn’t begrudge Adam cracking the Top Ten there first, because he has plenty of patience to spare to wait the week it takes for one of his songs to do the same.
He waits for years, after he has passed the torch to his American Idol successor, after he and Adam have completed their combined world tour-and yes, Adam had hit big in Europe-after he and Adam have both completed tours of their own, after their debut albums have gone platinum more than once and talk has moved on to their sophomore efforts.
Kris waits and watches, because even though he’s ready, not everything is similarly prepared. He becomes a devoted viewer of MSNBC in general and Countdown with Keith Olbermann in particular, occasionally checking up with The Daily Show and The O’Reilly Factor because the truth sometimes emerges first in curious places. He listens to the now to get ready for then and weathers when Adam teases him for becoming so politically minded.
It stretches even Kris’ patience to near breaking, but finally, midterm elections, Republicans losing more seats by playing to their ultra-conservative base and sending forth right wing nutjobs from their primaries to general elections, where they promptly and handily lose to their Democratic counterparts, just by opening their mouths once, because the vast majority of voters aren’t that fucking crazy. ConservaDems seem to suffer as well, and Keith Olbermann and John Stewart both cheerfully proclaim-and Bill O’Reilly bitterly bemoans-this the most liberally minded House and Senate, regarding social issues at least, in recent history, perhaps in history, period.
Still, Kris waits, and sure enough, it happens. President Obama, in his second term, riding a wave of well-met social reforms, finally comes through on a campaign promise hinted at when he first ran for President and expanded upon for his bid for renewal, and Kris knows that now…now it’s finally time to act.
~~~~
Adam is in Las Vegas, performing at a one-night-only concert with Queen, promoting the band’s release of a digital anthology of their remastered albums. Adam had been so thrilled to be asked to stand in for the late Freddie Mercury that Kris had had to sit him down and make him breathe as he nearly hyperventilated himself into passing out after Adam’s agent had called with the news.
Kris braves paparazzi and rabid fans to fly to Las Vegas for the show. When he arrives at the venue, he is immediately shown backstage, where he finds Adam in hair and makeup. When Adam sees Kris, he leaps out of the chair like he and Kris hadn’t seen each other just two days ago, almost losing an eye doing so because the makeup artist had been putting the finishing touches on his eyeliner. As it is, Adam escapes with just a stray streak of eyeliner from eye to hairline, ignoring the makeup artist’s surprised squeak as he sweeps Kris up in an excited hug, forcing Kris to rise up on his toes to keep from being lifted clear off his feet.
Kris can feel the grin as Adam’s lips brush over his cheek as he withdraws in their familiar, favorite greeting, as close to a public kiss as they’ve been able to come, intimate, but nothing that can’t be written off as accidental contact.
“Hey, babe.” Kris can see how much effort it takes for Adam to keep the greeting quiet when he’s almost bouncing with energy and excitement. Before Kris can respond, Adam continues, “You do realize that now that you’re here, you’re totally going on stage with me tonight.”
Kris takes a step back, barely evading Adam’s hands, which are trying to corral him into the makeup chair. “No way, man! This is all about you. I’d just get in the way-”
“Never happen,” Adam interrupts, employing skills known only to puppies, small children, and Adam Lambert, to set his face in an expression guaranteed to get Kris to agree, all expectant hope and eagerness and “you don’t want to disappoint me, do you?” “C’mon, it’ll be awesome, like a mini Idol reunion. Everybody will love it!”
Kris can feel himself giving in, and he tries to pull back. “But I haven’t rehearsed with you guys. It’ll be a train wreck.”
Adam snorted. “Please, you could harmonize with a foghorn. And you can’t tell me you don’t already know all the words to every song Queen’s ever released. I’ve seen your music collection; you can’t lie to me.”
Adam’s already got a hold of Kris’ arm and is pulling him towards makeup when Kris tries one more time. “But what about the others? I’m sure they wouldn’t-”
As if summoned by the lameness of Kris’ excuse, Brian May rounds the corner, aiming for the hair station before spotting Kris and coming over to shake hands. “Kris, nice to finally see you again.”
Kris goes a little tongue-tied because even as an official celebrity himself, this is still Brian Goddamn May. “Thanks. Uh, you, too.”
As their handshake ends, Brian keeps a hold of his hand and narrows his eyes at Kris. “So, you going to jam with us tonight?”
“Uh…”
“Totally,” Adam replies for him, slinging an arm around Kris’ shoulders and smiling widely. “Couldn’t be more ready.”
Kris shoots a glare at Adam before turning back to Brian. “Uh, yeah, absolutely.”
“Fantastic.” And with a final squeeze to Kris’ hand, Brian turns and drops into a chair at the hair station. “I’ll let the guys know we’ll be saving ‘Champions’ for last.”
As Kris stands there, wide-eyed and gape-mouthed, because that can’t have just happened, he can’t possibly be getting the chance to repeat one of the greatest moments in his life, because seriously, no one gets that freaking lucky, Adam takes advantage of his distraction and plunks him down in the makeup chair.
“Give him the works,” Adam tells the still recovering makeup woman, with a sly grin, before turning back to the mirror to inspect his own makeup, noticing for the first time the stray eyeliner mark on his face. “Oh, hey…that looks cool,” he says, examining it, then sets about embellishing it, turning accident to artistry.
Kris watches him, feeling his expression change from shocked to fond, trying to tamp down on the excitement he can feel building because if he lets his anticipation get away from him, he’ll never make it through the night, but God, it’s hard, because tonight…tonight he’s going to-
~~~~
After waging war to keep the makeup down to foundation and eyeliner-yes, he’d caved on that, but the lip-gloss so wasn’t happening-Kris figures the actual performance will be easy by comparison. He’d managed to keep Adam from dragging him onstage until the final two numbers. It’s not that Kris doesn’t want to perform with Adam and Queen-because he’s not stupid-or that he’s nervous about singing with them-because though he doesn’t know the words to every Queen song, despite what Adam says, he does know all those to the set list tonight. It’s just that this is Adam’s time to shine, not his, and some days he still feels guilty that he won Idol instead of Adam, though Adam would be the first to tell him he is being ridiculous and of course he deserved to win and everything had turned out just fine, hadn’t it, should Kris ever tell him so. However, between Adam’s insistence and Brian May’s expectation, Kris hadn’t a prayer of resisting, so when the opening strains of “Under Pressure” ring out and Kris hears Adam’s introduction for him, Kris strides out on stage, and even with the surprised and excited screams of thousands of audience members ringing in his ears, he only has eyes for the man center stage, welcoming him with a bright smile and arms spread wide.
~~~~
“Under Pressure” is a hit with the fans, but the crowd practically howls its pleasure as they tear into “We Are the Champions,” throwing Kris a bit because he hadn’t really expected anyone to recognize the significance of Adam and him sharing the song, not after all this time. But remember they do, and he almost can’t finish the song, he’s smiling so hard.
~~~~
After the show ends and after the media circus following winds down, they head to the back of the venue, where a limo is waiting for them. As Adam finishes up his goodbyes to Brian May & Co., Kris has a word with the driver, Eli, who responds with a grin and a half salute before opening the door for Kris.
Adam soon slides in next to him, quirking an eyebrow at Eli’s knowing grin. “What’s that about?”
“Nothing.” Kris is going for “nonchalant,” but knows his acting skills are for shit. “I just asked him to take the long way to the hotel. Give us a chance to take in the sights, you know.”
“Right,” Adam says slowly, patently disbelieving, but obviously willing to play along, as he turns the conversation to other things. They catch up on the eternity that was their two days apart, keeping their hands as much to themselves as possible because it’s best not to start things they can’t finish at the moment, particularly with a witness about.
Finally the car stops, and Adam turns to look out his window, frowning as he takes in where they are. “I thought we were going back to the hotel,” Adam says, and Kris can hear a slight whine in his voice because while they were talking on the phone the night before, Adam had made quite clear his plans for Kris once he got him alone.
Adam squints out the window again, voice going confused. “Hey…is that…?” Adam’s head snaps back around to Kris, eyes wide, mouth hanging open slightly as his voice stutters to a halt.
Kris is watching Adam intently, bouncing a little in his seat, nervous because he and Adam have never really talked about it. Kris sort of flutters his hand towards the window, towards the small, white building it’s framing, and says, “So, you wanna…?”
Adam’s mouth twitches toward a smile, fragile around the edges. “You’re joking.”
“Not even a little,” Kris replies as his expression goes serious.
The tentative upturning of Adam’s lips turns into a full-blown grin, and Adam grabs Kris face in both hands and kisses him deeply, thoroughly before grabbing his hand and pulling Kris out of the limo and towards The Little White Chapel.
~~~~
They opt for the full Elvis special, because how could they not? And as they’re straightening clothing and running fingers through performance-mussed hair, Adam pauses briefly, as if remembering something, then resumes primping, grin that hasn’t left his face since they left the limo turning mischievous. “You know, our parents are going to kill us for doing this without them.”
Kris grins back at him. “Probably, yeah.” He raises an eyebrow. “Think we should wait?”
Adam tilts his head, giving his best attempt at pretending to consider it before giving up. He pulls Kris in to him, and before their lips meet, he whispers, “Nah.”
~~~~
The ceremony is quick and to the point. Kris laughs as Adam’s face goes slightly panicked when the Elvis look-alike presiding over the ceremony asks if they would like to exchange rings, and produces the ring he bought for Adam.
He’d had the ring custom made two years ago, back when he’d first made up his mind to do this as soon as the political climate turned in his favor. It doesn’t look terribly much like a wedding ring, made of platinum, nearly a half-inch wide, though flat around the finger, the seemingly abstract symbols etched into it resolving into their astrological signs woven elegantly together.
Adam examines it carefully, almost reverently. He cocks an eyebrow jokingly, but Kris can hear the slight wobble in his voice when he says, “Sure of yourself, weren’t you?”
Kris just smiles back, unable to speak because of the way his breath catches in his throat as he slides the ring into its appropriate place on Adam’s outstretched left hand.
Not to be outdone, Adam reaches up to remove the chain from around his neck where it had been lying under his shirt, the chain that holds his grandfather’s ring. Shrugging aside the token protest Kris puts up, Adam slides the ring off the chain and onto Kris’ finger, where it sits as if made for him. “See,” Adam says, and the moisture in his eyes prompts corresponding wetness in Kris’, “meant for you.”
~~~~
Everything after that is a blur, the end of the ceremony, the rush out to the limo, the drive to the hotel, even the playful fight over who carries whom over the threshold.
What isn’t a blur is, after they’ve closed and locked the hotel room door, how Adam touches him like it’s the first time, how Adam’s hand on his waist sears through him, how when Kris strokes his left hand down the side of Adam’s face from temple to jaw, his shudder feels soul-deep, how when Adam fucks him, it feels like he’s deeper inside Kris than he’s ever been, how when Adam says, “I love you,” afterwards, he means “till death do us part.”
~~~~
In the morning, as they take turns explaining to their parents why the front page of the Los Angeles Times has a picture of them emerging hand in hand from The Little White Chapel, they sit curled together, left hands intertwined, smiling like idiots at each other as their parents vent, and Kris knows that all that time patiently endured was well worth it.
~