fic: Honey, I'm home!
Kris curled in on himself and listened to the all the Death Cab that he had on his iPod. He gingerly thought that Adam probably had more, but that thought had to be stopped in its tracks. He started about seven text messages to Adam, erasing every one of them. He talked to Katy instead.
The next night he started ten more texts, all going to Adam, he erased only nine of them, one was saved to his Drafts box.
At lunch the next day, someone asked him for an autograph, asked him when his second album was coming out, and if he knew if Adam was going to be recording anytime soon. He faked a phone call and left the restaurant, he used a fifty on his bill, it had cost $17.85.
A week later, Allison called. He didn’t answer. She left a long incoherent message on his voicemail that ended with her telling him that she missed him, and they need to talk soon. He didn’t call her back.
Some night, probably Thursday, Kris thought, he finally sent that message to Adam. hi. it’s kris. can we… meet for lunch, or something? He got a response three hours after he sent it, the shrill ringing woke him up where he had fallen asleep listening to Michael Jackson. It said ‘sure.’
It took Kris a week to finally pick a time and a place, about a month and a half from now because Adam was on tour, and it took Adam three days to agree. A large amount of messages had been sent between the two, only a few had been anything real, and only about two of those really meant something. But they were trying.
Kris decided that rebuilding bridges, and mending fences was hard work. He took a day off from the world. He shuffled his iTunes and read a few books. Katy didn’t talk to him, he didn’t talk to her.
On Friday, about month before they were having lunch, Kris took his guitar to a spot he found when he first moved to LA, a quiet little mountain-like place. He sat on top of it, and he could see everything and nothing he’d always and never wanted to see. He played and sang softly at first, just little things he’d been working on lately. Slowly he started playing and singing louder. Playing things he knew by heart, things he and Adam and talked about in the mansion. When he got back to his car he had seven missed called, all from Katy, and one text message form Adam. He responded to the text, ignored the calls. He turned up the radio, but when it started to rain he turned it off, opened the window a teeny bit and listened to the rain the whole way home. He reveled in the slight wetness of his shoulders because of errant raindrops.
The first time he told Katy about how he wasn’t happy, he wasn’t her Kris anymore, she had scoffed and told him that he hadn’t changed as much as he thought he had. Kris was tired enough to believe her. The second time, the last time, he told her that he really was not her Kris anymore, she sighed sadly and kissed his cheek. She told him that she knew this was coming, she wasn’t angry. They just didn’t work anymore, they just didn’t fit. They worked in high school, but now, things were different. He nodded sadly and hugged her tightly. They started splitting up the movie and CD collection the next day, happy banter about favorites and disgust filled the air. They put on The White Album and danced together all night. A week later she was packed up and moved out. She would live in the Arkansas apartment, he would live in the LA apartment. They would still love each other. Visit each other. But they couldn’t be together.
Three and a half weeks before the lunch, Kris had missed Katy for the first time. He called her just to hear her voice. She was on her way to the grocery store, out of habit she still go the kind of bread he liked, he smiled at that. He complained about having to do laundry, and she laughed. She told him to suck it up. He would. They were better as friends. When she hung up, a tear escaped from his eye, a single solitary wet drop on his jeans from his head being in his hands. He turned on John Mayer and figured out the washer and dryer
Two weeks before the lunch, Kris finally called Allison back. She told him many times how happy she was to hear his voice. She was coming to visit him soon, so he better have a spare room ready for her. He felt guilty that he was disappointed he had to do more laundry. They hung up after about a half an hour. He laid down and watched season three of The Office, falling asleep somewhere between The Coup and The Initiation and woke up somewhere when Pam walked across the coals in Beach Games. He always liked that part. Her speech afterwards always made him happy, also a little jealous. He wished he could be like her, say he was going to be more honest and then actually do it.
Five days before lunch with Adam, Kris was starting to freak out.
3 days before his lunch with Adam, Kris was feeling slightly better. He had talked to his mom, then to Allison, about what this meant. He had asked Allison what Adam was expecting from this meal. She told him that Adam didn’t know. He was fine with that. He didn’t know what he wanted either. He put aside a few more tab sheets for Allison to learn when she stayed with him, or take back with her when she left.
Three hours before lunch, Kris thought about cancelling. He was nervous, his palms were sweaty, he is heart was beating a mile a minute, but even that could be beaten by his mind. His mind was racing, he couldn’t stop thinking about what was happening.
When Adam walked into the restaurant, Kris was feeling so many things. Worry, his nerves were getting to him. Excitement, it’s always exciting to see an old friend. But most of all love, Kris could feel the love that he had for Adam pump through his veins. Whatever Adam wanted of today, Kris would give him.
After drinks were ordered, the small talk was being made, what Adam had been doing lately. How Katy was, how Kris was coping being single again. How Adam was coping with being single again. Then things happened all in a row. After all of those subjects had been discussed, a drag queen in a rather loud floral print dress dropped by their table, to say hi to Adam, and to tell him his new boyfriend was a ‘cutie! Oh, such a catch, doll.’ Adam spluttered at her that they ‘aren’t boyfriends, just…’ and then he paused. Kris raised his eyebrow, Adam had never been speechless, the right word always came to him, he was honestly thinking about what they were.
While this was happening, Kris may have wanted to kiss him. The restaurant was playing some ridiculous 60’s, 70’s, 80’s station and Kris sang along under his breath to stop from leaning over the starter salads to fist his hands in Adam’s shirt and kiss the word right out of his mouth.
After the drag queen had left - she needed some gossip she said they were too ‘vanilla’ for her- he was still stumped. He kissed her goodbye, and she left, but he was still trying to find a word for them. Kris waved the waitress off when she asked if they needed anything. “Yellow Submarine” came on and Kris was mouthing the words. They fell into a silence. Kris didn’t feel the need to break it. Adam was obviously still thinking. Friends would have been a good word, right? Friends could want to kiss their other friends but still have a functioning friendship.
Adam frowned and leaned forward to Kris. He asked him what he thought they were. ‘friends, right?’ Adam’s expression changed to neutral mode. He nodded, almost sadly, and waved the waitress back over. They ordered their meals.
After the meals were ordered they sat in relative silence. Kris was itching for a guitar, something to fill the void of sound. The music on the overhead had stopped for some reason, and now all was heard was the chatter from the other guests and the occasional clink of glasses for toasts.
The meals came, they ate them. After they were done eating they walked out of the restaurant. They walked down the street a little, Adam was rubbing his wrist, a nervous habit. Kris knocked Adam’s hand off his wrist when Kris pulled him into an ice cream store. Kris ordered cake batter and cup o’ joe espresso. Adam ordered Rocky road and double mint chocolatey chip.
They ate the ice cream at a local park. Adam said he wanted to swing when he was done, Kris had laughed, but led the way to a park that he and Katy went to a few times. He had pushed her on the swing, she giggled and pumped her legs to go higher. When they were done at the park, they walked home hand in hand. Kris saw the pensive look on Adam’s face. Thinking back to the earlier question, Kris asked, ‘why. What do you want us to be?’ Adam’s face didn’t change. ‘I want us to be sunshine, and daisies, and storm clouds, and rainbows, fire station red, painting the bathroom, arguing over shower curtains, big fights and small ones, make ups and make outs and us. Kris, I want us to be… us. Like we were. Before.’
Kris thought about before. Hiding from Katy. She secretly knew, she just loved him too much she had told him. The fight that ended it all. Shattered dishes and hearts and fraying ends. Kris thought about the future. He wanted those things. He had had them with Katy. He had been all those things with Katy, except for one. The us part. He never had an us with Katy. It was Kris’ way, or Katy’s way. No compromise, no way. A small tired voice, ‘please’. Kris nodded. ‘Yes, Adam. I will be sunshine and daisies, and I will paint the bathroom, and I will argue over shower curtains, I will be fire station red as long as you’ll be jet pack blue. Yes. All of it.’
Later, after the beginning sometime during the middle and way before the end, Kris finally took a step back. When he escaped a day when the apartment had felt a little too small, Adam having a particularly tense day with music in general, he escaped to a place he had always felt safe: His own little mountain. He felt bright and bubbly like he never had before. He played loudly and sang strongly at first. When Adam called asking what kind of take out he wanted, he answered on the first ring. On the way back to his apartment he was content to sing along loudly, and with the wrong words, to whatever was on the radio.
When he was at the apartment, he dropped his guitar and his hoodie next to the door, he kicked off his shoes somewhere between the hallway and the kitchen, stripped off his shirt sometime between the kitchen and the bedroom and got lost in someone that was a constant now. It may have taken him a while to get here. But honey, he was home.
The next night he started ten more texts, all going to Adam, he erased only nine of them, one was saved to his Drafts box.
At lunch the next day, someone asked him for an autograph, asked him when his second album was coming out, and if he knew if Adam was going to be recording anytime soon. He faked a phone call and left the restaurant, he used a fifty on his bill, it had cost $17.85.
A week later, Allison called. He didn’t answer. She left a long incoherent message on his voicemail that ended with her telling him that she missed him, and they need to talk soon. He didn’t call her back.
Some night, probably Thursday, Kris thought, he finally sent that message to Adam. hi. it’s kris. can we… meet for lunch, or something? He got a response three hours after he sent it, the shrill ringing woke him up where he had fallen asleep listening to Michael Jackson. It said ‘sure.’
It took Kris a week to finally pick a time and a place, about a month and a half from now because Adam was on tour, and it took Adam three days to agree. A large amount of messages had been sent between the two, only a few had been anything real, and only about two of those really meant something. But they were trying.
Kris decided that rebuilding bridges, and mending fences was hard work. He took a day off from the world. He shuffled his iTunes and read a few books. Katy didn’t talk to him, he didn’t talk to her.
On Friday, about month before they were having lunch, Kris took his guitar to a spot he found when he first moved to LA, a quiet little mountain-like place. He sat on top of it, and he could see everything and nothing he’d always and never wanted to see. He played and sang softly at first, just little things he’d been working on lately. Slowly he started playing and singing louder. Playing things he knew by heart, things he and Adam and talked about in the mansion. When he got back to his car he had seven missed called, all from Katy, and one text message form Adam. He responded to the text, ignored the calls. He turned up the radio, but when it started to rain he turned it off, opened the window a teeny bit and listened to the rain the whole way home. He reveled in the slight wetness of his shoulders because of errant raindrops.
The first time he told Katy about how he wasn’t happy, he wasn’t her Kris anymore, she had scoffed and told him that he hadn’t changed as much as he thought he had. Kris was tired enough to believe her. The second time, the last time, he told her that he really was not her Kris anymore, she sighed sadly and kissed his cheek. She told him that she knew this was coming, she wasn’t angry. They just didn’t work anymore, they just didn’t fit. They worked in high school, but now, things were different. He nodded sadly and hugged her tightly. They started splitting up the movie and CD collection the next day, happy banter about favorites and disgust filled the air. They put on The White Album and danced together all night. A week later she was packed up and moved out. She would live in the Arkansas apartment, he would live in the LA apartment. They would still love each other. Visit each other. But they couldn’t be together.
Three and a half weeks before the lunch, Kris had missed Katy for the first time. He called her just to hear her voice. She was on her way to the grocery store, out of habit she still go the kind of bread he liked, he smiled at that. He complained about having to do laundry, and she laughed. She told him to suck it up. He would. They were better as friends. When she hung up, a tear escaped from his eye, a single solitary wet drop on his jeans from his head being in his hands. He turned on John Mayer and figured out the washer and dryer
Two weeks before the lunch, Kris finally called Allison back. She told him many times how happy she was to hear his voice. She was coming to visit him soon, so he better have a spare room ready for her. He felt guilty that he was disappointed he had to do more laundry. They hung up after about a half an hour. He laid down and watched season three of The Office, falling asleep somewhere between The Coup and The Initiation and woke up somewhere when Pam walked across the coals in Beach Games. He always liked that part. Her speech afterwards always made him happy, also a little jealous. He wished he could be like her, say he was going to be more honest and then actually do it.
Five days before lunch with Adam, Kris was starting to freak out.
3 days before his lunch with Adam, Kris was feeling slightly better. He had talked to his mom, then to Allison, about what this meant. He had asked Allison what Adam was expecting from this meal. She told him that Adam didn’t know. He was fine with that. He didn’t know what he wanted either. He put aside a few more tab sheets for Allison to learn when she stayed with him, or take back with her when she left.
Three hours before lunch, Kris thought about cancelling. He was nervous, his palms were sweaty, he is heart was beating a mile a minute, but even that could be beaten by his mind. His mind was racing, he couldn’t stop thinking about what was happening.
When Adam walked into the restaurant, Kris was feeling so many things. Worry, his nerves were getting to him. Excitement, it’s always exciting to see an old friend. But most of all love, Kris could feel the love that he had for Adam pump through his veins. Whatever Adam wanted of today, Kris would give him.
After drinks were ordered, the small talk was being made, what Adam had been doing lately. How Katy was, how Kris was coping being single again. How Adam was coping with being single again. Then things happened all in a row. After all of those subjects had been discussed, a drag queen in a rather loud floral print dress dropped by their table, to say hi to Adam, and to tell him his new boyfriend was a ‘cutie! Oh, such a catch, doll.’ Adam spluttered at her that they ‘aren’t boyfriends, just…’ and then he paused. Kris raised his eyebrow, Adam had never been speechless, the right word always came to him, he was honestly thinking about what they were.
While this was happening, Kris may have wanted to kiss him. The restaurant was playing some ridiculous 60’s, 70’s, 80’s station and Kris sang along under his breath to stop from leaning over the starter salads to fist his hands in Adam’s shirt and kiss the word right out of his mouth.
After the drag queen had left - she needed some gossip she said they were too ‘vanilla’ for her- he was still stumped. He kissed her goodbye, and she left, but he was still trying to find a word for them. Kris waved the waitress off when she asked if they needed anything. “Yellow Submarine” came on and Kris was mouthing the words. They fell into a silence. Kris didn’t feel the need to break it. Adam was obviously still thinking. Friends would have been a good word, right? Friends could want to kiss their other friends but still have a functioning friendship.
Adam frowned and leaned forward to Kris. He asked him what he thought they were. ‘friends, right?’ Adam’s expression changed to neutral mode. He nodded, almost sadly, and waved the waitress back over. They ordered their meals.
After the meals were ordered they sat in relative silence. Kris was itching for a guitar, something to fill the void of sound. The music on the overhead had stopped for some reason, and now all was heard was the chatter from the other guests and the occasional clink of glasses for toasts.
The meals came, they ate them. After they were done eating they walked out of the restaurant. They walked down the street a little, Adam was rubbing his wrist, a nervous habit. Kris knocked Adam’s hand off his wrist when Kris pulled him into an ice cream store. Kris ordered cake batter and cup o’ joe espresso. Adam ordered Rocky road and double mint chocolatey chip.
They ate the ice cream at a local park. Adam said he wanted to swing when he was done, Kris had laughed, but led the way to a park that he and Katy went to a few times. He had pushed her on the swing, she giggled and pumped her legs to go higher. When they were done at the park, they walked home hand in hand. Kris saw the pensive look on Adam’s face. Thinking back to the earlier question, Kris asked, ‘why. What do you want us to be?’ Adam’s face didn’t change. ‘I want us to be sunshine, and daisies, and storm clouds, and rainbows, fire station red, painting the bathroom, arguing over shower curtains, big fights and small ones, make ups and make outs and us. Kris, I want us to be… us. Like we were. Before.’
Kris thought about before. Hiding from Katy. She secretly knew, she just loved him too much she had told him. The fight that ended it all. Shattered dishes and hearts and fraying ends. Kris thought about the future. He wanted those things. He had had them with Katy. He had been all those things with Katy, except for one. The us part. He never had an us with Katy. It was Kris’ way, or Katy’s way. No compromise, no way. A small tired voice, ‘please’. Kris nodded. ‘Yes, Adam. I will be sunshine and daisies, and I will paint the bathroom, and I will argue over shower curtains, I will be fire station red as long as you’ll be jet pack blue. Yes. All of it.’
Later, after the beginning sometime during the middle and way before the end, Kris finally took a step back. When he escaped a day when the apartment had felt a little too small, Adam having a particularly tense day with music in general, he escaped to a place he had always felt safe: His own little mountain. He felt bright and bubbly like he never had before. He played loudly and sang strongly at first. When Adam called asking what kind of take out he wanted, he answered on the first ring. On the way back to his apartment he was content to sing along loudly, and with the wrong words, to whatever was on the radio.
When he was at the apartment, he dropped his guitar and his hoodie next to the door, he kicked off his shoes somewhere between the hallway and the kitchen, stripped off his shirt sometime between the kitchen and the bedroom and got lost in someone that was a constant now. It may have taken him a while to get here. But honey, he was home.