Fanfic: The Memory Keeper (7/14)
Title: The Memory Keeper (A Kradam Fanfic)
Author: Radiogaga33
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Setting: AU
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Kris, Adam, etc are their own people. They belong to themselves, not to me. No claims to any copyrights, trademarks, or any other intellectual property. This is purely a work of fiction from my very idle mind. It never happened.
Many thanks to sweet_poeia for being my second set of eyes on this. Hugs. =)
Comments welcome as always.
Chapters 1-5 can be accessed here: http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/606618.html
( Chapter 6: With My Arms Outstretched )
Chapter 7: A Different Truth
Adam Lambert was falling, losing handily at a game he hadn’t even known he was playing. Kris had changed everything while Adam wasn’t looking. He’d switched the board, reshuffled the deck, loaded the dice, and altered the rules. Somewhere in the last twenty eight days, Adam had gotten lost in his own charade, caught in his own trap.
He stared down at the brown, effervescent liquid in the glass he cradled in his palm as he sat at the bar in the Sunset Room, purposeless as he counted down the minutes until when he would see Kris again. Another “rum and coke.” Adam twirled the glass in his hand. Now, one more person would always know there was no liquor in his drink. He took a steadying breath as he thought of what happened six days ago outside the music school. Adam still didn’t know what had come over him. All he knew was that something had snapped, had given way when he saw that man shaking the boy who looked so much like Adam had looked at his age with his blonde hair and freckled skin and sad eyes. It had happened only one other time in the ten years since he’d left Conway. But four years ago, Matt had been quicker than Kris to pull him away. Four years ago, he hadn’t done nearly as much damage or slipped nearly as far into the abyss.
This morning, Patrick Baylor had called again, reminding Adam that he only had three days left on the clock. Adam’s hand tightened around the glass as he recalled the way the self-satisfied prick had gone on, reminding him that “kisses and oral don’t count.” To win the bet fair and square, Adam had to seal the deal, go all the way. As Patrick had gone on and on, Adam had cringed and held the phone away from his ear with a look of distaste. The last thing he wanted to hear was Patrick talking about Kris like he was a pawn, nothing more than a cog in the wheel, a small detail in the devil’s gamble he and Patrick had made.
But isn’t that all he is? The errant thought rankled him as always. The bet. What was he going to do about the bet? He thought of how weak, how vulnerable he had been that night after the brutal fight with Tom’s father. He thought of how he’d let Kris in, confessed the truth about his childhood, and revealed the scars no one had ever seen. He thought of his surprise when Kris had held on to him instead of running out the front door like Adam had expected he would. He thought of the way Kris had looked at him, his brown eyes luminous with resolution and a certain fierceness as he’d promised to protect Adam always. He thought of the way Kris had touched him, the pleasure he had given him to make up for the pain Adam had suffered.
Adam took a quick drink from his glass. He didn’t deserve Kris’s promise. He didn’t deserve Kris’s devotion. Not when he was planning to break Kris’s heart within the next three days. Had it really already been twenty eight days since he’d seen Kris walking through the restaurant’s courtyard, his brown hair shining in the sunlight and a dazzling smile lighting his face? Adam recalled how he’d been struck speechless by his beauty and his grace. It still made him speechless.
For the last six days, Kris had been true to his word. He only left Adam’s side when necessary and would always return, to hold his hand, to wrap his strong arms around him, to run his fingers through Adam’s hair, soothing him as he fell asleep in Kris’s arms. Adam needed him. He needed his touch; he needed the sound of his voice in his ear, the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat against his chest. For the last six days, a confession skated along the edge of his mind, danced along the tip of his tongue. At long last, after seventeen years of fear and ten years of hedonism, Adam found himself fighting three words he’d never thought he’d say.
“Hey buddy. Didn’t know you were coming around today.”
The words jolted Adam out of his reverie. He looked up to see Matt settling on the bar stool beside him.
“Hi Matt.” Adam’s voice was flat, unaffected. Matt shot him a concerned look.
“Are you okay, kid?” he asked.
“That’s almost a philosophical question these days. Am I okay?” Adam looked at Matt. “I don’t know.”
“Talk to me.” Adam said nothing. “You’re worried about Kris.”
“Yes.”
“How much time do you have left?”
“Three days.”
Matt whistled softly. “Wow.”
Adam shot him dry look. “Yeah.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know! I don’t…I just don’t know.”
“Call it off, Adam.”
Adam planted his face in his hands. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not? Why can’t you call off the bet?”
“Because…because I can’t let that asshole Patrick hold it over my head forever. If I call it off, it’ll be a sign of weakness. I can’t do that. I just can’t do it.”
“I won’t think you’re weak.”
Adam looked at him. “No? Well unlike most people, you actually like me. For whatever reason. No one else will be that charitable. All they’ll see is that they can get to me. When people know they can hurt you, that’s all they want to do.”
“So you’d rather hurt Kris than let Patrick win. Does everyone’s opinion really matter more to you than Kris’s feelings? Would Patrick’s gloating really bother you more than Kris’s pain?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe you.”
The knowing tone in Matt’s voice riled him. “What the hell do you know?” Adam snapped.
Matt didn’t rise to the bait. “Plenty. You think I’m blind? Do you think I’ve had my eyes closed and my ears shut for the last ten years? I know you, Adam. I’ve been here the whole time and I have never seen you look at anyone the way you look at that man. So forgive me if I’m not buying the bullshit you’re selling.”
“Matt…” It was a warning. Matt ignored it.
“I know you, Adam. I know you love him.” Adam stared at him in shock. How did Matt already know what Adam himself was still struggling to name? Now that the words had been said aloud, Adam found he couldn’t deny the truth.
His voice when it came was hoarse, desperate. “I don’t know what to do!”
“Call off the bet.”
Finally, Adam voiced what was really bothering him. “But even if I call it off, I’d still have to tell Kris what I did.”
“Yes.”
“He’s going to hate me when I tell him everything. He’s going to question everything I’ve ever said, everything I’ve ever done. He’ll go over every word, every touch, every smile. You know that’s what’s going to happen.”
“I know.”
“He’s going to hate me…”
“Maybe, at first, but he’ll forgive you. He loves you. So long as he hears it directly from you and he knows you’re sorry and you’ve called off the bet, he’ll forgive you. Kris is in love with you. He’ll forgive you but you have to be the one to tell him. You can’t let him hear it from someone else.”
“Like Patrick.”
“Yes, Patrick. You know he would. It’s a wonder he hasn’t done it already.”
“He’s going to hate me.”
“And you’ll deal with it until he forgives you. Is he meeting you here?”
“Yes.”
“Then go. Call off the bet before he gets here. And then tell him everything when he does. Go.”
Adam got off the barstool and walked towards the passageway leading backstage. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and dialed Patrick’s number. Adam shuffled from one foot to the other anxiously as he waited for Patrick to pick up. After five rings, the answering service came on. Adam hesitated. Should he leave a message? Kris would be here any minute. He wanted to make sure he’d called off the bet before he arrived. He took a steadying breath and began to speak.
“Hi Patrick, it’s Adam. Listen, I’m calling off the bet. It was a stupid idea in the first place and I’m done with it. I’ll get the band to play the Baylor’s Christmas party. Call it a forfeit if you want. Goodbye.”
He shut the phone and smiled. He’d done it. He’d called off the bet. Adam headed back into the main room to see Kris laughing as he chatted with Matt at the bar. He stopped in his tracks for a moment. Kris was wearing yet another plaid shirt, blue this time. Adam watched the play of the light on his smooth skin, the way Kris moved his hands gracefully in the air as he spoke. He was amazing. Adam wanted the chance to spend the rest of his life telling Kris just how much.
“Hey,” Kris called when he noticed Adam coming towards him. He reached out and kissed Adam quickly when he got close enough.
“So Matt here was telling me about your performance last night.” Kris had been at school giving piano lessons. “Someone threw a leather whip on stage?”
“Yeah,” Adam answered sheepishly.
“And you didn’t keep it and bring it home? Tsk tsk. And here I was thinking I’d taught you better than that.” Kris flashed him a wicked grin while Matt laughed.
“You see this Matt? You see how he fools everyone with that innocent smile when he’s really a devil at heart?”
“What innocent smile?” Kris said petulantly before flashing the exact smile Adam was talking about.
“You are so bad.”
“Maybe you can teach me a lesson. Oh wait, oops, you can’t. You didn’t keep the whip!”
Kris’s words triggered another round of laughter.
“Come on; let’s leave Matt to tend his bar.” Adam turned to Matt. “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye. You boys play nice now.”
Adam grabbed Kris’s hand and pulled him out the door.
“Where are you parked?”
“I got the spot next to your car.”
“Cool.” They walked hand in hand into the parking lot and walked towards their cars. Adam stopped halfway and stared at Kris.
“What?” Kris asked. He looked around. “What is it?”
Here it is, Adam thought. The moment of truth. “I have to tell you something.”
“What is it?”
Adam looked at Kris’s face, beautiful as always, especially now in the soft glow of moonlight. He’s going to hate me when I tell him everything. Adam’s hands clenched into tight fists at his side. He glanced at the expectant look on Kris’s face and suddenly all his resolve faded. He was afraid. Tomorrow. He’d tell Kris tomorrow. But there was still another confession to be made. Tonight, he could still tell Kris the truth, a different truth.
“Kris, you have meant more to me in the last twenty eight days than anyone ever has my whole life. I keep trying to see the future without you in it-to see a time when you’re not there and I can’t do it. I can’t do it, Kris. I need you with me always. I want you. I love you.”
The smile that lit up Kris’s face when Adam stopped speaking was mesmerizing in its beauty, dazzling in its intensity.
“I love you too, Adam,” he whispered. “I love you too.”
Kris threw his arms around Adam and reached up to press his lips against Adam’s. Their kiss was soft at first, a delicate slide of tongues, a sweet surge of heat. It was a declaration of love. A little while later, the kiss grew hotter, rougher, transforming into a thrilling combination of lust and love. Kris pulled away first.
“I love you,” he said again. “No more waiting. I want to make love with you. Tonight. Right now.”
His words were like music to Adam’s ears. “Yes,” he replied simply.
Kris began to hurry towards their cars. “We’re going to your apartment. Get in your car and drive.”
Adam laughed at the urgency in Kris’s command. “Last one there’s a loser,” he said playfully.
Kris stopped at his car and opened the door. “No. No losers tonight, Adam. Tonight, everybody wins.”
Adam’s body was practically humming at the sensual promise in Kris’s voice. He slipped into his car and started the engine, pulling out of the parking lot and smiling at the reflection of Kris’s headlights in his rearview mirror. The man he loved was following him home.
* * *
The bulky figure hiding in the alleyway by the parking lot pulled out of the shadows and stepped into the light. His dull brown eyes narrowed as he watched the two cars drive away. Neither man had seen him crouching in the darkness, listening to every word they said. He brushed the hair from his forehead, palm grazing his broken nose as he moved.
Five seconds later, Patrick Baylor headed for his black Mercedes, a wicked plan already forming in his mind.
[To be continued]