Good Enough After All Chapter 3/?
American Idol 8 RPF: Good Enough After All Chapter 3/?
Rating: NC 17(overall)
Summary: Kris thinks he isn't good enough for anyone in his life- most of all, Adam.
Beta: Many thanks to the wonderful laurahellomoto
Warnings: Angst, plenty of angst. Mentions of major character suicidal thinking/attempts(don't worry nobody dies). Mentions of Adommy(but no in story scenes of anything above friendship there).
Author's notes: I am breaking a hard and steadfast rule by writing Kradam.This is my first RPF ever, for any fandom. I had said I'd never do it, but too many stories were floating around in my head for me to resist. Be gentle, but honest. Feedback rocks.
Disclaimer: I do not know these people, and this was just done for fun. No offense intended, and no profit. If you got here by googling youself or someone you know, for the love of every deity I don't believe in leave now.
http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/1679432.html#cutid1 Chapter 2
Chapter 3/?
“A ménage a trois?” Kris stared at Adam in disbelief. He could not believe what he had just heard. He had spent the last twenty minutes listening to Adam explain why he had arrived with Tommy on his heels tonight. Of all the reasons that had gone through Kris’s head upon realizing that Adam was not alone at his door, this had certainly not been one of them.
“You want to bring Tommy Joe Ratliff into our relationship on a permanent basis? Adam, I don’t know what brought this on, but I just don’t know what to say. I can’t really sit here and tell you that I am even a little bit ok with this. I’m sorry, I can’t even wrap my head around the idea of something like that.”
Kris rose from the loveseat they had been sharing and resumed his spot at the sliding glass door to the balcony once more. Panic ripped through his being. He had lost Adam, allowed him to fall in love with someone else, because he had been too cowardly and selfish to upset the balance of his seemingly perfect existence to be true to himself. Finally his wife had done it for him, because obviously she, too, knew that he’d never have the balls to do it himself. Now, if he didn’t agree to this crazy idea of Adam’s, he’d truly be alone.
Adam walked over to stand behind Kris, his hands resting lightly on Kris’s shoulders and his chin resting on Kris’s messy, soft brown hair. “Kris, you know I love you. I could never love Tommy or anyone else like I love you. But I had to consider the fact that you were married up until a few days ago, that you might never truly be mine. And you know I can’t date someone that’s closeted. There are a lot of things I’ll do for true love, but that has never been one of them. I can’t hide, even for you. I had to consider that you might never get your divorce and come out of that closet. Tommy was right there, waiting and ready and more than in a position to be open about our relationship if anything serious ever came of it. He was there for me when you couldn’t be. None of this is any slam against you or your marriage. I know how difficult your situation was, but I had to face the fact that maybe you and I weren’t gonna make it.”
Kris stood there, taking in Adam’s words. He was right, of course. He couldn’t expect Adam to put his life on hold indefinitely to wait for Kris to grow a pair, when there had been every indication that Adam would never be anything other than Kris’s mistress, his dirty little secret. Adam deserved so much better than that, so much better than Kris.
Kris turned to face Adam, feeling tears threaten to fall again. He was exhausted and emotionally raw and way too sad and depressed and confused to make a decision about something like this tonight. “You’re right, and you deserve so much better than me. If Tommy gives you what I never could, then you should go to him. Like I said before, I’m a fuck up. You deserve better than me, my parents deserve better than me, my fans deserve better than me. I can’t decide anything tonight. All I really know is that I failed everyone.” Kris shuddered involuntarily. “I should get ready for bed. I’m too tired to do anything about this tonight. Apologize to Tommy for me. He didn’t deserve what I said.”
Adam pulled Kris into a bone- crushing hug, and Kris planted his face in the spot on Adam’s shoulder that he had come to think of as his, wondering if maybe this was the last time Adam would hold him like this. The very thought made him want to die.
“Oh, Kris, you know I’ll always love you,” Adam was whispering into his ear. “Always. We belong together. Nothing will ever change that, but I promise to respect whatever decision you make, and I promise we will always be in each other’s lives, no matter what.”
Adam pulled away, looking Kris in the eye with that piercing blue gaze, and Kris saw that, for the first time tonight, Adam was near tears too. “I’m gonna go find out what room Tommy is in and spend the night there. I’ll call you when we wake up in the morning. I know you need time and space to think right now. Don’t worry, you have my word that there will be no sex. I already told Tommy that I no longer feel right sleeping with him without you. The truth of it is I never felt right sleeping with him without you.”
Adam turned away from Kris and walked to the door, looking back at Kris one more time. “And of course I gotta get my Visa back. No telling what he’s charged to that bill since we’ve been up here.”
Kris had to chuckle at that, tears and hiccups spilling over along with his slightly hysterical laughter. Leave it to Adam to inject humor into even the most serious of situations. It was one of the many things that made Kris love him so much. Then, after a last kiss blown in Kris’s direction and a wave, Adam was gone, and Kris was alone, probably like he deserved to be.
After staring at the door that Adam had disappeared through, Kris wandered aimlessly into the bedroom, stripping down to his red plaid boxers along the way and leaving a trail of clothes in his wake. Adam would call in the morning. This wasn’t the end. Or was it? Kris shook his head like a dog trying to shake off fleas, as if that would clear the jumble of thoughts cluttered there. He needed to get some sleep, but his mind was racing. He had been having trouble sleeping since the last leg of the tour started, due to the mess that was his personal life constantly weighing heavy on his mind. The tour doctor had given him a prescription for Ambien, but Kris had never used it. He had never been one to take those kinds of drugs (or any drugs, really) but he thought it might be necessary tonight.
Kris went to his messenger bag that was sitting by his bed and unzipped the inside pocket where he had stashed the little bottle of pills. He read the warning label twice, to make sure he wasn’t putting anything into his body that he shouldn’t. The last thing he needed was a drug habit on top of everything else that was going on right now. Then, he stopped to think about it. What did it matter, really? His life was a shambles, and it was his own damn fault. He was about to humiliate his family, get kicked out of his church, and lose all his fans. Worst of all, unless he agreed to some kind of nutty arrangement that usually wouldn’t exist outside BDSM romance novels, he’d lost Adam. It didn’t really matter what happened to him at this point.
A recklessness like none Kris had ever known before came over him, and he dumped two ten milligram Ambien into his palm (the dosing instructions said to take one) and walked into the kitchen to get something to take them with. He started for a bottle of water, but then he had a better idea. Kris walked to the mini bar and took out two mini bottles of Grey Goose vodka and poured them into a glass. He returned to the refrigerator and found a bit of coke to splash into the glass to cut the bitter taste of the alcohol. He looked at the pills in his hand, then at the tumbler of mostly straight vodka. “Bottoms up,” he mumbled to himself, tossing back the pills and chasing them down with most of his drink.
Kris was not much of a drinker, but the events of the night called for it. They also called for a little relaxation. He walked into the bathroom and turned on the faucets and the jets in the Jacuzzi tub, sprinkling the little complimentary packets of bath crystals into the water as it ran. He decided another drink was in order while he waited for the tub to fill, so he headed back to the mini bar. This time he filled a tall glass with straight vodka, the coke be damned. He took a few sips and gagged, then got used to the taste and the burn and continued to drink. Kris then remembered to take a look at the mini bar and made a mental note to have the hotel staff restock it tomorrow. At least being rich and famous was good for a little luxury. If he was going to be miserable, he was going to do it in style.
Walking back to the bathroom where the tub was now full of hot, vanilla scented water, Kris stripped his boxers off and climbed in. He slipped a little, the vodka and the Ambien starting to take effect. As he lay in the water, his head resting on the little rubber bath pillows, the gravity of Kris’s situation hit him harder than he had allowed it to up until now. He was losing everything that had ever meant anything to him, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was hurting the people he loved most. An enormous feeling of worthlessness and depression swept over Kris, and he sobbed harder than he could ever remember. Shaking with emotion, Kris had a thought he never thought he’d ever have: he wanted to die. He could not face life anymore, and everyone around him would be better off without him. In his drunken, drugged out state, Kris couldn’t think of any other solution to his problems.
Kris finally stopped sobbing long enough to lean over the tub to the sink. He grabbed the drink he had brought in with him and drained it. His mind was little more than a mass of fog at this point, and he knew that what he was doing was right. Making his final decision, he grabbed a razor from the sink, fresh from the pack. Taking a breath, he swiped it across first his left wrist, and then, with difficulty, his right.
The blood flowed immediately, most likely made thinner by the large amount of alcohol he had consumed. A temporary warning that perhaps he had made a mistake tried to break through his substance induced fog, but not enough to attempt to rectify the situation. Kris looked at his wrists, at the water that was slowly turning pink from his slashed wrists. Finally, the Ambien and the vodka did their job, and Kris slid down into the tub, his face just above the water and his wrists bleeding profusely, and fell into a deep sleep.