fic: Marupa
Title: Marupa
Author:
idwyt_nome
Pairing: Adam/Kris
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They are real people. Nobody owns them, certainly not me. This is fiction, which is why it's on LJ.
Author's Notes: Now, to repeat a much-used phrase: This was supposed to be a drabble. I looked up words that I thought were interesting, and I got a fic idea based around this one. The original drabble was the first part, ending where Kris walks out of the room. And now, fuck me, the damn thing is 9,905 words long. Doesn't even fit in one post. Ugh. So, it's a bastard, and it's very NSFW. You have been warned.
---
Adam is generally a resilient person. When he comes inside after Brad leaves, the marks on his skin don't bother him. Nor do the comments.
"What bit you?" Anoop asks, smirking.
Adam raises his eyebrows. "Hey, he's good with his teeth."
Anoop makes a face and backs determinedly away.
The next people he runs into are Danny and Allison, playing some obscure card game in a couple of the chairs scattered in the hallways. Allison just breaks into giggles and averts her eyes, and Adam thinks fondly that he misses being a teenager. Danny whispers something to Allison, and she flushes. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Adam wanders past.
He strips off his shirt as soon as he's through the bedroom door. Kris, his back to him, asks how his swim went. Adam shrugs and goes to grab clothes. "Fine. I'm going to take a shower."
Kris turns and pauses, eyes wide and smile slightly awkward. "Um, looks like it went more than fine."
Adam looks down at himself, though he knows what Kris sees. He sort-of smiles and says, "Nah, it was just okay."
Kris looks as if he's slightly sickened, and winces a little. Then he edges around to the door. "Too much info, man."
Adam covers his skin with makeup as soon as he gets out of the shower, never mind that the stylists will make sure nothing shows on camera.
---
When Adam comes down to dinner mostly everyone is gathered together already, giddy with Matt's continuing presence, if only for one more week. They're all together for one more week. Matt and Danny are arguing over what movie to watch. And Kris won't look at him. Allison sees him and her eyes focus again on his neck; Adam reconsiders the lack of makeup. He skips the food, grabs a soda, wishes it was something stronger. He goes and sprawls out on the couch, kicking at Matt as he tries to shove him off.
"You can't take the whole damn couch!"
Adam feigns a yawn and mumbles, "I'l share. Just not with you." When Matt continues to swat at his feet he adds, "And I'm tired."
He rethinks his ploy when Matt smirks and looks at him slyly. "Yeah, I heard. So, did you two actually do it in the pool? Cause if so, that's cool and all, but they're gonna need to drain it before I get in again."
Adam grins. "Fuck you."
"Is that a yes, then?"
"No, it's not. We were beside the pool."
Allison giggles again, and Adam sort of wishes she'd stop doing that.
"You know, I'm kinda glad you--"
"Picked a movie yet?" Kris interrupts shamelessly, and Adam watches as he searches for a place to sit that's not on the floor. "There should totally be more seats in here."
Matt shushes him as they put the movie in, and Lil offers, "Adam said he'd share. Make him move."
When Kris eyes along his legs, Adam considers making a crack about the likelihood of Kris overpowering him, but he doesn't. When Kris finally reaches his eyes, Adam smiles slowly and curls in to make room.
---
They've been spread out in their respective beds for almost an hour now, and Adam thinks Kris is asleep. Knows he is, in fact, because he's begun to make the sleepy half-words people do when they're dreaming. Adam rolls over and watches as Kris jerks suddenly then goes rigid. "Adam?"
He considers not answering; the sleepy tone rings loud in the stillness.
"Yeah?" He winces as his own voice comes out rough and low. He thinks he can see Kris yawn at him across the room, vulnerable with weariness and a half-frightened remembrance.
"Do you never sleep?"
Adam feels his eyes go wide. "Generally, yeah."
"Oh, um." Kris is quiet. Then, "You're just always awake when I look at you at night."
Adam knows Kris wouldn't have said that if he were fully awake and not covered safe by the dark and the whispers. "Yeah, well, you're usually the reason I've woken up, so--yeah." He didn't mean to sound so brittle and sharp.
Kris is making a quick noise, low in his throat, and then he apologizes and rolls towards the wall. Away from Adam.
Adam sighs and sits up. "It's not your fault, Kris. I wake up easy."
He gets no reply -- just faked breaths meant to tell him his roommate is asleep. Sighing again, more heavily, he stumbles to sit on the edge of Kris' bed. "What'd you dream about?"
Kris huffs. "Nothing. Just, just nothing. The falling off a cliff thing, you know?"
Adam watches as his hand reaches down and tugs at short dark hair, turning Kris onto his back, forcing him to look up at him. Kris blinks, slow and heavy, and his eyes don't open for long seconds. Adam wants to kiss the dark shadows on skin. He clears his throat, the sound loud and sudden. "I feel like I should apologize for earlier today." And the words shatter the peaceful quiet more than any noise could. They both know Adam doesn't apologize for who he is. Kris is tense, and Adam wants to move away, out of personal, dangerous space. Kris breathes out, relaxes. Smiles up at him.
"No, my fault. I don't know why I freaked." He nudges his head against Adam's hip, playfully. "I think it was one of those things you just don't expect to see, like your parents making out or something."
"I remind you of your parents?" Adam overdoes the disbelief and offense in his voice; he knows he should find this funny.
Kris laughs, shakes his head, yawns. "Hey, I'm--" Another yawn, persistent. Adam knows Kris is fading. He moves away, quietly, and then-- "Thanks."
He doesn't know what he's being thanked for. He doesn't ask, because it doesn't matter.
---
They wake the next morning to the alarm's screams. As always, Kris rolls over and swats at it. As always, Adam pulls it out of his reach before he can deal permanent damage. he goes to take a shower, looking back at Kris, sprawled out and looking for all the world as if he's already back asleep.
As he steps gingerly into the quickly-warming shower (he knows somebody must've already taken one this morning) he scrubs his hands over his face. He's so tired.
Adam soaps and scrubs, reluctant to spend the energy when all he wants is to sleep for a month. He leans against the shower wall, trailing his hand lazily down his body. Eyes unfocused, he stares through the hazy glass door. He breathes through his teeth as his hand wraps around his half-hard cock, stroking familiar and lazy. He has dozens of memories, fantasies, moments to live out in his head for times like these, but the innocent image of Kris, head against his hip, is burning in his mind, and he refuses to make noise as his hand speeds, stroking rough and slick form root to tip, across the head once, twice, and he forces a groan to cut off, strangled in his throat. He's loud, normally, shameless and uninhibited and delighting in the filth and pleasure of every encounter with a lover.
But masturbating to thoughts of one he's never had permission to touch is foreign, hollow, and as he grips tighter, tighter and twists, it feels just a little bit like rape.
---
He wakes Kris as he's leaving, done dressing and grooming and brooding, and he heads down to find breakfast, blinking away bleary brown eyes.
They're choosing their next songs today, and are given lists and tasks and goals that Adam will disregard entirely, and when they go to the practice rooms, Kris is unavoidable. So Adam grabs Allison, grabs and clings, because Allison is young and soft and safe.
---
It's dinner time again, and Adam knows the marks on his body are fading, so he doesn't know why he feels eyes on them, pressing deep into his skin until he's flushing; he can feel his pulse in his head. He turns to Kris and Kris turns away.
And then it's late at night, and they all want to practice, the threat of overusing their voices warring with nerves and desires to excel until they're all of them bundles of tension. There'll be no movie tonight. Adam knows he's suffocating and he goes out to the pool, pacing up and down every edge until he has the dimensions embedded in his memory, and then he closes his eyes and paces blind.
"You know, people generally watch where they walk when around pools. You'll hit your head and give one of us an actual chance at winning if you're not careful." Kris' voice is wary, quiet; Adam wonders how long he's been watching.
"Oh, I'd have to do more than hit my head for that." Adam knows he should smile with the joke, but he keeps his eyes closed and also knows that two steps to the right would bring him into the water.
"Are you okay?" Kris isn't any closer, and for that Adam is grateful. He doesn't answer, just breathes deep -- he can smell Kris in the still night air -- and turns his face towards the pool. Two quick footsteps, and Kris is at his side, hand flitting over his shoulder. "Seriously, man. Is it just needing space? Cause if it is, I get it, we all do, really. We're all holed up in these--"
"If you think I need space, why'd you come out to hover?"
Kris is silent, breathing steady, and Adam knows he'll retreat. Knows he didn't deserve the biting or sneering voice, either. But mistreatment of Kris seems to be becoming a habit. He turns his head and opens his eyes, but the apology won't come out as he's struck by how easy it would be to grab Kris, to bring him close and in, tight against Adam and his whims. He's silent as he turns all efforts to fighting back impulses and reviving morals.
Something in his face communicates itself to Kris, because he steps back, hesitates, then holds his hands up soothingly. "Hey, whatever, it's okay Adam, yeah?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "Come in when you're ready? I'm not too good with advice, usually," his self-deprecating laugh is tentative, and Adam hates himself a little. "But I'll listen if you want, and I can try to help?"
Adam makes himself nod, stiff and formal, but it's enough as Kris moves back inside.
---
He lays on his back, looking up at the sky. It's bright enough there are no stars; just a grey-red haze where the lights of the city conceal the sky. He's seen the stars, but he's a city boy; they weren't a common experience. For the first time, he wishes California was dark. The lights meant an endless supply of entertainment, people, life going on for miles around them, but it is life they are cut off from, as they exist in their televised bubble. Adam misses, suddenly, the frenetic energy devoted each and every night to settle on one activity, or do all of them at once. Misses people who aren't from completely different walks of life, who don't all act their age but so, so young. Mostly, he misses the feeling of belonging, and he hates that it feels like his world is being stripped from him when he's in the middle of the very city he grew up in. He focuses on his breathing, hears his heart beat in his ears. Wishes he could hear the ocean or the beat of the clubs. All he hears are bugs, the distant roar of cars on highways and streets and in parking lots, and the noise of a million or more people trying to quiet themselves for an imagined peace. The house behind him makes a flurry of noise, windows opening and shutting, familiar voices calling goodnight to one another. He imagines he can hear them hugging too, slapping shoulders and touching, comforting, encouraging, all abstract intentions given form by wishful thinking and stress. A door opens and shuts, and everything goes not-quite-silent again. He doesn't turn to look: he doesn't want to know who it is. He could not deal with Kris right now, not without destroying his own intentions, and anyone else is an unwitting antagonist.
"Kris thinks you're mad at him. At all of us." It's Matt, no-nonsense and perfectly willing to ignore the glare Adam directs off into the distance when he sits next to him, then lowers himself to his stomach. He's looking at Adam's profile, not curious, not kind; intrusive. Unapologetically, he continues, "I think that's shit. You're not mad at anyone. You've just got issues."
Adam can't help the snort he lets out. It was surprise, but he turns it derisive, peers at Matt from the side of his eyes and sneers. "So, if I've got issues, the best thing to do is provoke me?"
Matt laughs; actually laughs. "Maybe not, but it's gotta be fun. And hey, I'm not worried about you. You'll deal. Everyone does. I'm just here to tell you that whatever it is, you can't take it out on the rest of us."
Adam stays quiet. He's been avoiding everyone, keeping himself from affecting them. Matt has no clue what he's talking about.
"See, that right there. You get all high an' mighty, withdrawing and sulking and shit. You're with us all the time, and then all of a sudden you're not? Not the best way to keep us from noticing something's wrong.
You need to get over it, whatever it is. Kris thinks it's cause of yesterday, cause of how we all acted. Which is why I think it's shit, the idea that you're mad at us, because you've screwed around with people and gotten looks for it before, I guarantee it. Every teenager does. And Allison's scared out of her fucking mind, the way you attached to her today. She's sixteen; she has no clue why someone a decade older than her is hanging over her, especially when he doesn't even like girls."
Adam feels his mouth curve into a smile. He knows it's not a pretty one, but Matt takes it as a sign of encouragement.
"Oh, you vindictive bastard. Some poor little girl's fear shouldn't cheer you up." Adam suppresses laughter, shakes with it.
"I'd think it be more weird if I did like girls and was hanging on her." Adam knows he's smiling openly, and the pressure inside him loosens as he imagines Allison's over-expressive eyes, wide in shock and faked disgust.
Matt snorts. "Not really. Then she'd know what to do with it. Maybe. Well, actually, I don't think we would've let you hang on her all day if you did like girls, so that makes the point moot, but you get the basic idea."
"There was an idea behind all this?"
Matt's hand slams into his stomach, hard. When his breath leaves him in a rush he rolls, grabs Matt's ankle in time to keep him from darting away. Almost manages to throw him in the pool, gets kicked (gently) in the side in retaliation. "Yeah, jackass, the point is that we want you to be back to normal, like this," and he doesn't manage to avoid Adam's tugging, and he trips into the pool. Adam's on his feet, laughing, and Matt sputters up, sodden and unhappy. "Bitch."
"Hey, you're the one who wanted me." Adam doesn't keep the leer off his face.
Matt looks ill. "Oh, you wish, Lambert. The only one who wants you is the one who left those cute little love bites all over you yesterday."
Adam grows quiet for a moment, helps Matt out of the pool. "Not really, no. Well, yes, but--" He's quiet again. "Well, him and a couple million fans."
The wet man splutters, wiping water off his face. "Only you would bring up nameless faces to boost your ego when we're having a touching heart-to-heart. Shameful, really."
Laughing, Adam doesn't protest as Matt's hands come to his shoulders. Doesn't protest until he's pushed into the water. He knows it's only fair, and he lets his revenge be limited to spitting water into Matt's face when the younger man jumps in after him.
---
He sneaks into the house quietly, wincing as he slides across the slick dry floors. He knows he'll have hell to pay for his clothes, but he almost wants to kiss Matt when they part at the foot of the stairs. Tries, actually, and Matt dodges away, laughing, calling him a fag, affectionately, and then hugging him, mindless of their wet clothes and the fact that he's just ruined his image. Adam plods up the stairs as quietly as he can, goes into his room where Kris is already buried under the covers, and undresses in the half-light from the cracked bathroom door. He slides into a dry pair of boxers, thinking wistfully of his own apartment where he sleeps unabashedly naked, and sits on the edge of his bed after putting his wet clothes into the bathroom. He looks over at Kris, whose eyes are closed tightly, and is caught between irritation that he's not awake to listen per his promise and frustration that he knows he wouldn't be able to explain anything to him even were he awake. Overlaying them both is the simple desire to curl around him and never let go.
Kris' eyes open, peer at him across the space between their beds, startlingly awake. "Hey?"
It's a gentle question; a testing of the waters. Suddenly, Adam is sick of himself, and he reminds himself to thank Matt in the morning for the metaphorical smack upside the head. He smiles, bright and free, and it doesn't feel as much like a mask anymore. "Hey. Did I wake you up, beauty?"
Kris smiles, looking happy if not a little unsure. "No. I was just waiting for you."
He moves to sit up, but Adam beats him to it, curling his legs under him and propping his chin on the edge of Kris' bed, almost too comfortably close. "Okay, cool, cause I have some awesome gossip."
Kris moves his head back a little; his eyes are unfocused enough that Adam knows he was fibbing about not being asleep. He was, if only for a little while. "Um, that's good? Only--"
Adam talks over him, knows that it's night and nights mean whispers, but he's energetic and happy, again, and it's only been two days but he misses the feeling. "See, Matt's in love with me."
Kris lets out a noise best categorized as a squawk, and then laughs, breathless and surprised. "Really? Are you sure? I know you think you're irresistible, but--"
Something in his voice actually sounds uncertain, and Adam feels wickedly amused. His eyebrows curve delightedly, and he raises his voice into a more feminine register. "Oh, yeah, totally. I mean, he hugged me. That counts for something, right? It's gotta be true love."
Kris laughs again, freely, and Adam feels more pleased with himself than he has all week. "You're so not right." He's playing along, overdoing disbelief and jealousy. "I mean, I thought he was into me. He's always touching me."
Adam grins, calms, pets his hand along Kris' shoulder and through his hair, pleased when he doesn't shrink away. He ignores the reminder in his head that tells him that Kris has never pulled away. "Anyway, I'm sorry I've made you all worry." He knows probably the most obvious characteristic of his sexuality is his willingness to apologize.
Kris snuffles into his pillow, breathes deep, lets out a sigh. "It's okay. You're okay. Just, can I ask, what was it, I mean, why were you so whatever?"
Adam smiles, sweet and clear, and Kris peers at him. "You're laughing at me. Just answer the question, jerk."
"It was just me. Being me. I normally distract myself when it happens, and I can't do that here. And I was moping about something, but I've just given up and accepted things."
"Going with the flow, huh? That's good, always works for me." Kris is smiling, and Adam surprises them both when he yawns. "I think you're actually going to sleep for once, aren't you? Amazing."
Adam huffs, and Kris turns his head away from the flow of air, making a face. It turns his cheek into Adam's hand, still cupping his head. "Dude. Your breath? Not good."
Feigning injured hopefulness, Adam tugs gently at Kris' hair as he withdraws his hand, sits back on his heels. "Does that mean I don't get a goodnight kiss?"
He goes to stand up, but is pulled off balance when Kris tugs him over and rises up, kissing him loudly and smacking on his cheek. "Don't push your luck, sleepy head. Now brush your teeth and go to bed."
"Goodnight, goodnight, dear Miss Clavel." Adam backs away, towards the bathroom, fighting the urge to touch his cheek. He's not that gay, thanks ever so much.
Kris rolls onto his back, preparing to sleep for real now, but gives him a look. "You're a bit old for kids' books, don't you think? And I'm not a woman, in case you hadn't noticed."
Eyes rove over his face, shoulders, and chest, and Adam is gratified to see Kris flush. "Okay, you don't have to check."
"Oh, I know. Believe me, if you were a girl, I'd be horrified with all the ways you come on to me." Adam closes the bathroom door, and Kris sighs and buries his face in his pillows.
---
He wakes up only once during the night, and it's to hear Kris mumbling quietly to himself. He shushes him, hums low in his throat, and is relieved when Kris settles without waking. He watches him affectionately until he slips under into dreams as well, and thinks that he really can content himself with hope and moments like this.
---
In the morning, Kris shakes him awake. He's not gentle, and Adam grumbles at him that he needs to be taught how to politely disturb people. Kris actually looks concerned, a little, and Adam realizes abruptly that he's up about two hours later than he normally is.
"Oh, thank god. I was beginning to think you weren't going to wake up at all. I'd have thought you'd died during the night if it weren't for how you kept hitting me."
Adam smiles, rolls over, sits up. Doesn't see a clock. "Kris, what time is it?"
Kris looks guilty. "Um, they're carting us off in about twenty minutes. And we have to try to get a new clock."
He'd laugh, but Adam only has twenty minutes to do everything he normally takes hours for in the morning. He throws back the covers, panicking, but Kris stands close, puts his hands on his shoulders and smiles reassuringly. "I'll get you food, yeah? You can eat on the way."
Adam smiles up at him, presses his hands against his sides, spanning his ribs, feeling Kris breathe. Then, "I still have to do all my other shit." And he grabs clothes as quickly as he can.
Kris calls after him as the bathroom door shuts, "Can't you just do without some of it for one day?" And snickers at the indignant yelp that he gets in reply.
---
He tramples down the stairs, shoving the last earring into the appropriate spot, and sees that everyone's waiting for him in the front hallway. "Sorry. I'm running behind."
They all look taken aback for a moment; he's obviously not ready, hair wet and sticking up, skin makeup free and a barely matching outfit. The coordinators, shoving them all out the door to the waiting vehicles, make disapproving noises. Everyone smiles at him, and he knows he's back to normal when their hands all over him are comforting as they should be. He ends up in a car with Kris, Allison and Matt, and Matt slings an arm over his shoulders as he embarks on the perilous journey of cosmetic applications on Hollywood streets. He shrugs him off, and Matt pokes at his side, musses his hair.
"See! I fucking told you!" Vindicated, Adam looks at Kris. Kris snorts, tries not to laugh, and ignores Matt and Allison when they demand to know what the hell he's talking about, or has he just gone off? He hands Adam food, and he shoves it into his mouth, delighting in the disgusted noises Allison and Kris make at his manners, and overly responsive to Matt's egging him on.
---
When they first get a moment away from Kris and Allison, Adam pulls Matt aside. "Hey, man, I wanted to thank you."
Matt looks at him askance. "I have no idea what you're on about."
Adam makes a face, starts over. "I was being an ass. Thanks for pointing it out."
Matt laughs, slaps him on the shoulder, hard, trying to bruise. "You're very welcome. Always happy to insult people."
Adam returns the sentiment, slapping his ass, and Matt runs yipping to Lil, complaining about abuse and molestation.
---
They're all exhausted when they get back to the house, tired and happy and wrapped up in each other in a group that's loud and comforting, and almost, almost home now. Adam can't imagine making it through the Idol competition without having each other; each one draws attention in bright flares like fireworks, and the after-images of the light leaves all of them blinded and happy and undeniably altered. Every one of them is so significant to the world they're in; and they settle against each other like a big pile of puppies, exhausted and with no remaining concept of personal space. He has Kris' head on his stomach, and they kick at Anoop together until he concedes defeat and gets up to turn the T.V. onto a show they all hate, since they can't find a show they all like.
Kris drops off to sleep, unsurprisingly, and Adam doesn't realize he's stroking his hair until Matt looks at them, and Allison wants to take a picture. He can't say no, she's so enthusiastic and remarkable, and he compromises by making her promise to leave the flash off so she won't wake his roommate. She says the picture won't be as good, and he says Kris will wake up if it flashes, and he doesn't want his picture taken anyway, so they're both unhappy and Lil is preaching about the virtues of compromise, so they do.
Adam knows he won't sleep; not in front of the television, though after the ridiculous amount last night he doesn't know if he will even later. He feels wide awake.
Danny concedes defeat to the pull of bed first, and whispers goodnight to them all as he goes up the stairs to sleep. He returns only a few minutes later in pajamas, and tells Matt to get his ass upstairs too, because Matt can't go to bed quietly to save his life and Danny doesn't want to be woken up later. Adam scratches his nails along Kris' scalp, and gets a sleepy murmur and a purr in return, so he does it again, and Allison leans her head on his shoulder and tells him, unthinkingly, "You two are adorable together."
Adam looks at her as best he can without moving and dislodging either of them, and is surprised that she doesn't seem to notice anything wrong with the closeness and the touching and the implications of her words, and doesn't have the heart to remind her that Kris is married, she's only sixteen, and they are not, despite appearances, all one big happy family. Instead, he tilts his head onto hers and listens as her breathing deepens and evens out. When the episode of the Survival rerun ends, Lil leans over to him, yawning. "I think it's bedtime for us all, babe." He doesn't object, even as she goes to wake Anoop and send him upstairs. He thinks of Megan, shepherding them around with more force and more noise, and misses her suddenly. Misses all of them.
Lil sees it when she comes back over, and before waking Allison she pets his hair, kisses his nose like a child. "We're all okay, silly. There's no reason to get all mopey. Cheer up, go to sleep, have good dreams."
"It'll end."
She smiles at him, shakes her head. "No, babe. Not really. Even after the tour. Not really."
Adam leans his head onto Allison, breathes her in, and takes his hands from Kris' hair and slides it along Lil's shoulder and arm. Smiles thanks, and asks, "Do you want to take Allison? I'll get Kris," and he looks down at the brown head that rises and falls with his every breath.
Lil nods, then leans forward and whispers into his ear, "It'll be okay, you know. Whatever happens with you, with him, with you and him. It'll be okay. We all love each other. And I'm rooting for you."
Adam looks at her in surprise, opens his mouth to ask a question, but she puts her finger to his lips and shakes Allison gently awake, coddling her like one of her daughters as she gathers her up for bed. Allison hugs him goodnight, fits her face into his shoulder, and he knows she's memorizing smell and texture. They all do it.
He turns off the TV, the cessation of noise, however quiet, a relief to tired ears. He pats gently at Kris' shoulder. "Hey, c'mon, wake up. We're going up to bed." He knows Kris is awake, knows he's nuzzling deliberately into his stomach when he rolls over. Adam's thankful he's not ticklish, because he doesn't want to squirm away from the warm breath.
"I could just sleep here."
Adam laughs, and Kris' head moves, and Kris makes a noise of irritation and swats him on the thigh. "No, you can't sleep here. Here is on me, and I'm not sleeping here. So nope, sorry." And he really is.
---
He doesn't wake up that night.
Part Two.
Author:
idwyt_nome
Pairing: Adam/Kris
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They are real people. Nobody owns them, certainly not me. This is fiction, which is why it's on LJ.
Author's Notes: Now, to repeat a much-used phrase: This was supposed to be a drabble. I looked up words that I thought were interesting, and I got a fic idea based around this one. The original drabble was the first part, ending where Kris walks out of the room. And now, fuck me, the damn thing is 9,905 words long. Doesn't even fit in one post. Ugh. So, it's a bastard, and it's very NSFW. You have been warned.
---
Adam is generally a resilient person. When he comes inside after Brad leaves, the marks on his skin don't bother him. Nor do the comments.
"What bit you?" Anoop asks, smirking.
Adam raises his eyebrows. "Hey, he's good with his teeth."
Anoop makes a face and backs determinedly away.
The next people he runs into are Danny and Allison, playing some obscure card game in a couple of the chairs scattered in the hallways. Allison just breaks into giggles and averts her eyes, and Adam thinks fondly that he misses being a teenager. Danny whispers something to Allison, and she flushes. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Adam wanders past.
He strips off his shirt as soon as he's through the bedroom door. Kris, his back to him, asks how his swim went. Adam shrugs and goes to grab clothes. "Fine. I'm going to take a shower."
Kris turns and pauses, eyes wide and smile slightly awkward. "Um, looks like it went more than fine."
Adam looks down at himself, though he knows what Kris sees. He sort-of smiles and says, "Nah, it was just okay."
Kris looks as if he's slightly sickened, and winces a little. Then he edges around to the door. "Too much info, man."
Adam covers his skin with makeup as soon as he gets out of the shower, never mind that the stylists will make sure nothing shows on camera.
---
When Adam comes down to dinner mostly everyone is gathered together already, giddy with Matt's continuing presence, if only for one more week. They're all together for one more week. Matt and Danny are arguing over what movie to watch. And Kris won't look at him. Allison sees him and her eyes focus again on his neck; Adam reconsiders the lack of makeup. He skips the food, grabs a soda, wishes it was something stronger. He goes and sprawls out on the couch, kicking at Matt as he tries to shove him off.
"You can't take the whole damn couch!"
Adam feigns a yawn and mumbles, "I'l share. Just not with you." When Matt continues to swat at his feet he adds, "And I'm tired."
He rethinks his ploy when Matt smirks and looks at him slyly. "Yeah, I heard. So, did you two actually do it in the pool? Cause if so, that's cool and all, but they're gonna need to drain it before I get in again."
Adam grins. "Fuck you."
"Is that a yes, then?"
"No, it's not. We were beside the pool."
Allison giggles again, and Adam sort of wishes she'd stop doing that.
"You know, I'm kinda glad you--"
"Picked a movie yet?" Kris interrupts shamelessly, and Adam watches as he searches for a place to sit that's not on the floor. "There should totally be more seats in here."
Matt shushes him as they put the movie in, and Lil offers, "Adam said he'd share. Make him move."
When Kris eyes along his legs, Adam considers making a crack about the likelihood of Kris overpowering him, but he doesn't. When Kris finally reaches his eyes, Adam smiles slowly and curls in to make room.
---
They've been spread out in their respective beds for almost an hour now, and Adam thinks Kris is asleep. Knows he is, in fact, because he's begun to make the sleepy half-words people do when they're dreaming. Adam rolls over and watches as Kris jerks suddenly then goes rigid. "Adam?"
He considers not answering; the sleepy tone rings loud in the stillness.
"Yeah?" He winces as his own voice comes out rough and low. He thinks he can see Kris yawn at him across the room, vulnerable with weariness and a half-frightened remembrance.
"Do you never sleep?"
Adam feels his eyes go wide. "Generally, yeah."
"Oh, um." Kris is quiet. Then, "You're just always awake when I look at you at night."
Adam knows Kris wouldn't have said that if he were fully awake and not covered safe by the dark and the whispers. "Yeah, well, you're usually the reason I've woken up, so--yeah." He didn't mean to sound so brittle and sharp.
Kris is making a quick noise, low in his throat, and then he apologizes and rolls towards the wall. Away from Adam.
Adam sighs and sits up. "It's not your fault, Kris. I wake up easy."
He gets no reply -- just faked breaths meant to tell him his roommate is asleep. Sighing again, more heavily, he stumbles to sit on the edge of Kris' bed. "What'd you dream about?"
Kris huffs. "Nothing. Just, just nothing. The falling off a cliff thing, you know?"
Adam watches as his hand reaches down and tugs at short dark hair, turning Kris onto his back, forcing him to look up at him. Kris blinks, slow and heavy, and his eyes don't open for long seconds. Adam wants to kiss the dark shadows on skin. He clears his throat, the sound loud and sudden. "I feel like I should apologize for earlier today." And the words shatter the peaceful quiet more than any noise could. They both know Adam doesn't apologize for who he is. Kris is tense, and Adam wants to move away, out of personal, dangerous space. Kris breathes out, relaxes. Smiles up at him.
"No, my fault. I don't know why I freaked." He nudges his head against Adam's hip, playfully. "I think it was one of those things you just don't expect to see, like your parents making out or something."
"I remind you of your parents?" Adam overdoes the disbelief and offense in his voice; he knows he should find this funny.
Kris laughs, shakes his head, yawns. "Hey, I'm--" Another yawn, persistent. Adam knows Kris is fading. He moves away, quietly, and then-- "Thanks."
He doesn't know what he's being thanked for. He doesn't ask, because it doesn't matter.
---
They wake the next morning to the alarm's screams. As always, Kris rolls over and swats at it. As always, Adam pulls it out of his reach before he can deal permanent damage. he goes to take a shower, looking back at Kris, sprawled out and looking for all the world as if he's already back asleep.
As he steps gingerly into the quickly-warming shower (he knows somebody must've already taken one this morning) he scrubs his hands over his face. He's so tired.
Adam soaps and scrubs, reluctant to spend the energy when all he wants is to sleep for a month. He leans against the shower wall, trailing his hand lazily down his body. Eyes unfocused, he stares through the hazy glass door. He breathes through his teeth as his hand wraps around his half-hard cock, stroking familiar and lazy. He has dozens of memories, fantasies, moments to live out in his head for times like these, but the innocent image of Kris, head against his hip, is burning in his mind, and he refuses to make noise as his hand speeds, stroking rough and slick form root to tip, across the head once, twice, and he forces a groan to cut off, strangled in his throat. He's loud, normally, shameless and uninhibited and delighting in the filth and pleasure of every encounter with a lover.
But masturbating to thoughts of one he's never had permission to touch is foreign, hollow, and as he grips tighter, tighter and twists, it feels just a little bit like rape.
---
He wakes Kris as he's leaving, done dressing and grooming and brooding, and he heads down to find breakfast, blinking away bleary brown eyes.
They're choosing their next songs today, and are given lists and tasks and goals that Adam will disregard entirely, and when they go to the practice rooms, Kris is unavoidable. So Adam grabs Allison, grabs and clings, because Allison is young and soft and safe.
---
It's dinner time again, and Adam knows the marks on his body are fading, so he doesn't know why he feels eyes on them, pressing deep into his skin until he's flushing; he can feel his pulse in his head. He turns to Kris and Kris turns away.
And then it's late at night, and they all want to practice, the threat of overusing their voices warring with nerves and desires to excel until they're all of them bundles of tension. There'll be no movie tonight. Adam knows he's suffocating and he goes out to the pool, pacing up and down every edge until he has the dimensions embedded in his memory, and then he closes his eyes and paces blind.
"You know, people generally watch where they walk when around pools. You'll hit your head and give one of us an actual chance at winning if you're not careful." Kris' voice is wary, quiet; Adam wonders how long he's been watching.
"Oh, I'd have to do more than hit my head for that." Adam knows he should smile with the joke, but he keeps his eyes closed and also knows that two steps to the right would bring him into the water.
"Are you okay?" Kris isn't any closer, and for that Adam is grateful. He doesn't answer, just breathes deep -- he can smell Kris in the still night air -- and turns his face towards the pool. Two quick footsteps, and Kris is at his side, hand flitting over his shoulder. "Seriously, man. Is it just needing space? Cause if it is, I get it, we all do, really. We're all holed up in these--"
"If you think I need space, why'd you come out to hover?"
Kris is silent, breathing steady, and Adam knows he'll retreat. Knows he didn't deserve the biting or sneering voice, either. But mistreatment of Kris seems to be becoming a habit. He turns his head and opens his eyes, but the apology won't come out as he's struck by how easy it would be to grab Kris, to bring him close and in, tight against Adam and his whims. He's silent as he turns all efforts to fighting back impulses and reviving morals.
Something in his face communicates itself to Kris, because he steps back, hesitates, then holds his hands up soothingly. "Hey, whatever, it's okay Adam, yeah?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "Come in when you're ready? I'm not too good with advice, usually," his self-deprecating laugh is tentative, and Adam hates himself a little. "But I'll listen if you want, and I can try to help?"
Adam makes himself nod, stiff and formal, but it's enough as Kris moves back inside.
---
He lays on his back, looking up at the sky. It's bright enough there are no stars; just a grey-red haze where the lights of the city conceal the sky. He's seen the stars, but he's a city boy; they weren't a common experience. For the first time, he wishes California was dark. The lights meant an endless supply of entertainment, people, life going on for miles around them, but it is life they are cut off from, as they exist in their televised bubble. Adam misses, suddenly, the frenetic energy devoted each and every night to settle on one activity, or do all of them at once. Misses people who aren't from completely different walks of life, who don't all act their age but so, so young. Mostly, he misses the feeling of belonging, and he hates that it feels like his world is being stripped from him when he's in the middle of the very city he grew up in. He focuses on his breathing, hears his heart beat in his ears. Wishes he could hear the ocean or the beat of the clubs. All he hears are bugs, the distant roar of cars on highways and streets and in parking lots, and the noise of a million or more people trying to quiet themselves for an imagined peace. The house behind him makes a flurry of noise, windows opening and shutting, familiar voices calling goodnight to one another. He imagines he can hear them hugging too, slapping shoulders and touching, comforting, encouraging, all abstract intentions given form by wishful thinking and stress. A door opens and shuts, and everything goes not-quite-silent again. He doesn't turn to look: he doesn't want to know who it is. He could not deal with Kris right now, not without destroying his own intentions, and anyone else is an unwitting antagonist.
"Kris thinks you're mad at him. At all of us." It's Matt, no-nonsense and perfectly willing to ignore the glare Adam directs off into the distance when he sits next to him, then lowers himself to his stomach. He's looking at Adam's profile, not curious, not kind; intrusive. Unapologetically, he continues, "I think that's shit. You're not mad at anyone. You've just got issues."
Adam can't help the snort he lets out. It was surprise, but he turns it derisive, peers at Matt from the side of his eyes and sneers. "So, if I've got issues, the best thing to do is provoke me?"
Matt laughs; actually laughs. "Maybe not, but it's gotta be fun. And hey, I'm not worried about you. You'll deal. Everyone does. I'm just here to tell you that whatever it is, you can't take it out on the rest of us."
Adam stays quiet. He's been avoiding everyone, keeping himself from affecting them. Matt has no clue what he's talking about.
"See, that right there. You get all high an' mighty, withdrawing and sulking and shit. You're with us all the time, and then all of a sudden you're not? Not the best way to keep us from noticing something's wrong.
You need to get over it, whatever it is. Kris thinks it's cause of yesterday, cause of how we all acted. Which is why I think it's shit, the idea that you're mad at us, because you've screwed around with people and gotten looks for it before, I guarantee it. Every teenager does. And Allison's scared out of her fucking mind, the way you attached to her today. She's sixteen; she has no clue why someone a decade older than her is hanging over her, especially when he doesn't even like girls."
Adam feels his mouth curve into a smile. He knows it's not a pretty one, but Matt takes it as a sign of encouragement.
"Oh, you vindictive bastard. Some poor little girl's fear shouldn't cheer you up." Adam suppresses laughter, shakes with it.
"I'd think it be more weird if I did like girls and was hanging on her." Adam knows he's smiling openly, and the pressure inside him loosens as he imagines Allison's over-expressive eyes, wide in shock and faked disgust.
Matt snorts. "Not really. Then she'd know what to do with it. Maybe. Well, actually, I don't think we would've let you hang on her all day if you did like girls, so that makes the point moot, but you get the basic idea."
"There was an idea behind all this?"
Matt's hand slams into his stomach, hard. When his breath leaves him in a rush he rolls, grabs Matt's ankle in time to keep him from darting away. Almost manages to throw him in the pool, gets kicked (gently) in the side in retaliation. "Yeah, jackass, the point is that we want you to be back to normal, like this," and he doesn't manage to avoid Adam's tugging, and he trips into the pool. Adam's on his feet, laughing, and Matt sputters up, sodden and unhappy. "Bitch."
"Hey, you're the one who wanted me." Adam doesn't keep the leer off his face.
Matt looks ill. "Oh, you wish, Lambert. The only one who wants you is the one who left those cute little love bites all over you yesterday."
Adam grows quiet for a moment, helps Matt out of the pool. "Not really, no. Well, yes, but--" He's quiet again. "Well, him and a couple million fans."
The wet man splutters, wiping water off his face. "Only you would bring up nameless faces to boost your ego when we're having a touching heart-to-heart. Shameful, really."
Laughing, Adam doesn't protest as Matt's hands come to his shoulders. Doesn't protest until he's pushed into the water. He knows it's only fair, and he lets his revenge be limited to spitting water into Matt's face when the younger man jumps in after him.
---
He sneaks into the house quietly, wincing as he slides across the slick dry floors. He knows he'll have hell to pay for his clothes, but he almost wants to kiss Matt when they part at the foot of the stairs. Tries, actually, and Matt dodges away, laughing, calling him a fag, affectionately, and then hugging him, mindless of their wet clothes and the fact that he's just ruined his image. Adam plods up the stairs as quietly as he can, goes into his room where Kris is already buried under the covers, and undresses in the half-light from the cracked bathroom door. He slides into a dry pair of boxers, thinking wistfully of his own apartment where he sleeps unabashedly naked, and sits on the edge of his bed after putting his wet clothes into the bathroom. He looks over at Kris, whose eyes are closed tightly, and is caught between irritation that he's not awake to listen per his promise and frustration that he knows he wouldn't be able to explain anything to him even were he awake. Overlaying them both is the simple desire to curl around him and never let go.
Kris' eyes open, peer at him across the space between their beds, startlingly awake. "Hey?"
It's a gentle question; a testing of the waters. Suddenly, Adam is sick of himself, and he reminds himself to thank Matt in the morning for the metaphorical smack upside the head. He smiles, bright and free, and it doesn't feel as much like a mask anymore. "Hey. Did I wake you up, beauty?"
Kris smiles, looking happy if not a little unsure. "No. I was just waiting for you."
He moves to sit up, but Adam beats him to it, curling his legs under him and propping his chin on the edge of Kris' bed, almost too comfortably close. "Okay, cool, cause I have some awesome gossip."
Kris moves his head back a little; his eyes are unfocused enough that Adam knows he was fibbing about not being asleep. He was, if only for a little while. "Um, that's good? Only--"
Adam talks over him, knows that it's night and nights mean whispers, but he's energetic and happy, again, and it's only been two days but he misses the feeling. "See, Matt's in love with me."
Kris lets out a noise best categorized as a squawk, and then laughs, breathless and surprised. "Really? Are you sure? I know you think you're irresistible, but--"
Something in his voice actually sounds uncertain, and Adam feels wickedly amused. His eyebrows curve delightedly, and he raises his voice into a more feminine register. "Oh, yeah, totally. I mean, he hugged me. That counts for something, right? It's gotta be true love."
Kris laughs again, freely, and Adam feels more pleased with himself than he has all week. "You're so not right." He's playing along, overdoing disbelief and jealousy. "I mean, I thought he was into me. He's always touching me."
Adam grins, calms, pets his hand along Kris' shoulder and through his hair, pleased when he doesn't shrink away. He ignores the reminder in his head that tells him that Kris has never pulled away. "Anyway, I'm sorry I've made you all worry." He knows probably the most obvious characteristic of his sexuality is his willingness to apologize.
Kris snuffles into his pillow, breathes deep, lets out a sigh. "It's okay. You're okay. Just, can I ask, what was it, I mean, why were you so whatever?"
Adam smiles, sweet and clear, and Kris peers at him. "You're laughing at me. Just answer the question, jerk."
"It was just me. Being me. I normally distract myself when it happens, and I can't do that here. And I was moping about something, but I've just given up and accepted things."
"Going with the flow, huh? That's good, always works for me." Kris is smiling, and Adam surprises them both when he yawns. "I think you're actually going to sleep for once, aren't you? Amazing."
Adam huffs, and Kris turns his head away from the flow of air, making a face. It turns his cheek into Adam's hand, still cupping his head. "Dude. Your breath? Not good."
Feigning injured hopefulness, Adam tugs gently at Kris' hair as he withdraws his hand, sits back on his heels. "Does that mean I don't get a goodnight kiss?"
He goes to stand up, but is pulled off balance when Kris tugs him over and rises up, kissing him loudly and smacking on his cheek. "Don't push your luck, sleepy head. Now brush your teeth and go to bed."
"Goodnight, goodnight, dear Miss Clavel." Adam backs away, towards the bathroom, fighting the urge to touch his cheek. He's not that gay, thanks ever so much.
Kris rolls onto his back, preparing to sleep for real now, but gives him a look. "You're a bit old for kids' books, don't you think? And I'm not a woman, in case you hadn't noticed."
Eyes rove over his face, shoulders, and chest, and Adam is gratified to see Kris flush. "Okay, you don't have to check."
"Oh, I know. Believe me, if you were a girl, I'd be horrified with all the ways you come on to me." Adam closes the bathroom door, and Kris sighs and buries his face in his pillows.
---
He wakes up only once during the night, and it's to hear Kris mumbling quietly to himself. He shushes him, hums low in his throat, and is relieved when Kris settles without waking. He watches him affectionately until he slips under into dreams as well, and thinks that he really can content himself with hope and moments like this.
---
In the morning, Kris shakes him awake. He's not gentle, and Adam grumbles at him that he needs to be taught how to politely disturb people. Kris actually looks concerned, a little, and Adam realizes abruptly that he's up about two hours later than he normally is.
"Oh, thank god. I was beginning to think you weren't going to wake up at all. I'd have thought you'd died during the night if it weren't for how you kept hitting me."
Adam smiles, rolls over, sits up. Doesn't see a clock. "Kris, what time is it?"
Kris looks guilty. "Um, they're carting us off in about twenty minutes. And we have to try to get a new clock."
He'd laugh, but Adam only has twenty minutes to do everything he normally takes hours for in the morning. He throws back the covers, panicking, but Kris stands close, puts his hands on his shoulders and smiles reassuringly. "I'll get you food, yeah? You can eat on the way."
Adam smiles up at him, presses his hands against his sides, spanning his ribs, feeling Kris breathe. Then, "I still have to do all my other shit." And he grabs clothes as quickly as he can.
Kris calls after him as the bathroom door shuts, "Can't you just do without some of it for one day?" And snickers at the indignant yelp that he gets in reply.
---
He tramples down the stairs, shoving the last earring into the appropriate spot, and sees that everyone's waiting for him in the front hallway. "Sorry. I'm running behind."
They all look taken aback for a moment; he's obviously not ready, hair wet and sticking up, skin makeup free and a barely matching outfit. The coordinators, shoving them all out the door to the waiting vehicles, make disapproving noises. Everyone smiles at him, and he knows he's back to normal when their hands all over him are comforting as they should be. He ends up in a car with Kris, Allison and Matt, and Matt slings an arm over his shoulders as he embarks on the perilous journey of cosmetic applications on Hollywood streets. He shrugs him off, and Matt pokes at his side, musses his hair.
"See! I fucking told you!" Vindicated, Adam looks at Kris. Kris snorts, tries not to laugh, and ignores Matt and Allison when they demand to know what the hell he's talking about, or has he just gone off? He hands Adam food, and he shoves it into his mouth, delighting in the disgusted noises Allison and Kris make at his manners, and overly responsive to Matt's egging him on.
---
When they first get a moment away from Kris and Allison, Adam pulls Matt aside. "Hey, man, I wanted to thank you."
Matt looks at him askance. "I have no idea what you're on about."
Adam makes a face, starts over. "I was being an ass. Thanks for pointing it out."
Matt laughs, slaps him on the shoulder, hard, trying to bruise. "You're very welcome. Always happy to insult people."
Adam returns the sentiment, slapping his ass, and Matt runs yipping to Lil, complaining about abuse and molestation.
---
They're all exhausted when they get back to the house, tired and happy and wrapped up in each other in a group that's loud and comforting, and almost, almost home now. Adam can't imagine making it through the Idol competition without having each other; each one draws attention in bright flares like fireworks, and the after-images of the light leaves all of them blinded and happy and undeniably altered. Every one of them is so significant to the world they're in; and they settle against each other like a big pile of puppies, exhausted and with no remaining concept of personal space. He has Kris' head on his stomach, and they kick at Anoop together until he concedes defeat and gets up to turn the T.V. onto a show they all hate, since they can't find a show they all like.
Kris drops off to sleep, unsurprisingly, and Adam doesn't realize he's stroking his hair until Matt looks at them, and Allison wants to take a picture. He can't say no, she's so enthusiastic and remarkable, and he compromises by making her promise to leave the flash off so she won't wake his roommate. She says the picture won't be as good, and he says Kris will wake up if it flashes, and he doesn't want his picture taken anyway, so they're both unhappy and Lil is preaching about the virtues of compromise, so they do.
Adam knows he won't sleep; not in front of the television, though after the ridiculous amount last night he doesn't know if he will even later. He feels wide awake.
Danny concedes defeat to the pull of bed first, and whispers goodnight to them all as he goes up the stairs to sleep. He returns only a few minutes later in pajamas, and tells Matt to get his ass upstairs too, because Matt can't go to bed quietly to save his life and Danny doesn't want to be woken up later. Adam scratches his nails along Kris' scalp, and gets a sleepy murmur and a purr in return, so he does it again, and Allison leans her head on his shoulder and tells him, unthinkingly, "You two are adorable together."
Adam looks at her as best he can without moving and dislodging either of them, and is surprised that she doesn't seem to notice anything wrong with the closeness and the touching and the implications of her words, and doesn't have the heart to remind her that Kris is married, she's only sixteen, and they are not, despite appearances, all one big happy family. Instead, he tilts his head onto hers and listens as her breathing deepens and evens out. When the episode of the Survival rerun ends, Lil leans over to him, yawning. "I think it's bedtime for us all, babe." He doesn't object, even as she goes to wake Anoop and send him upstairs. He thinks of Megan, shepherding them around with more force and more noise, and misses her suddenly. Misses all of them.
Lil sees it when she comes back over, and before waking Allison she pets his hair, kisses his nose like a child. "We're all okay, silly. There's no reason to get all mopey. Cheer up, go to sleep, have good dreams."
"It'll end."
She smiles at him, shakes her head. "No, babe. Not really. Even after the tour. Not really."
Adam leans his head onto Allison, breathes her in, and takes his hands from Kris' hair and slides it along Lil's shoulder and arm. Smiles thanks, and asks, "Do you want to take Allison? I'll get Kris," and he looks down at the brown head that rises and falls with his every breath.
Lil nods, then leans forward and whispers into his ear, "It'll be okay, you know. Whatever happens with you, with him, with you and him. It'll be okay. We all love each other. And I'm rooting for you."
Adam looks at her in surprise, opens his mouth to ask a question, but she puts her finger to his lips and shakes Allison gently awake, coddling her like one of her daughters as she gathers her up for bed. Allison hugs him goodnight, fits her face into his shoulder, and he knows she's memorizing smell and texture. They all do it.
He turns off the TV, the cessation of noise, however quiet, a relief to tired ears. He pats gently at Kris' shoulder. "Hey, c'mon, wake up. We're going up to bed." He knows Kris is awake, knows he's nuzzling deliberately into his stomach when he rolls over. Adam's thankful he's not ticklish, because he doesn't want to squirm away from the warm breath.
"I could just sleep here."
Adam laughs, and Kris' head moves, and Kris makes a noise of irritation and swats him on the thigh. "No, you can't sleep here. Here is on me, and I'm not sleeping here. So nope, sorry." And he really is.
---
He doesn't wake up that night.
Part Two.