Crossing the Line/O.T.T. Part 11/?
Title: Crossing the Line/O.T.T. (Part 11/?)
Author: cunningdeb
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: adam/kris
Summary: Set between the Idol finale and the start of the summer tour. Adam gets too much attention from a few of his “adoring” fans
Disclaimer: I do not own the people involved. This story does not depict the majority of Adam’s fans - idea brought on by stalker incident in Tampa.
Warnings: language, angst, violence, anxiety issues. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE TRIGGERS. I don’t know if it’s classified as non-con but Adam didn’t want the kind of attention he was given - recalled in conversation, remembrances.
Things are getting interesting!
Part One - http://cunningdeb.livejournal.com/2135.html#cutid1
Part Two - http://cunningdeb.livejournal.com/2471.html#cutid1
Part Three - http://cunningdeb.livejournal.com/2575.html#cutid1
Part Four - http://cunningdeb.livejournal.com/3170.html#cutid1
Part Five - http://cunningdeb.livejournal.com/3170.html#cutid1
Part Six - http://cunningdeb.livejournal.com/3453.html#cutid1
Part Seven - http://cunningdeb.livejournal.com/3610.html#cutid1
Part Eight - http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/904034.html#cutid1
Part Nine - http://cunningdeb.livejournal.com/4139.html#cutid1
Part Ten - http://cunningdeb.livejournal.com/4489.html#cutid1
PART ELEVEN
The ride to the police station was subdued. Kris called Detective Travers, letting him know they were on their way and Adam dug through the bag of medical supplies he had been handed on the way out of his hospital room - gauze, medical tape, antiseptic, various bottles of medication and detailed care instructions.
“Any clue what I’m supposed to say?” Adam asked, dropping the bag onto the floor.
“I think you just tell your side of it and the courts take it from there.”
“Good, cause I don’t want to face them - even if I can’t remember what they look like.”
Kris wasn’t surprised to hear this. He had trouble himself remembering the hundreds of faces that passed before him every day. Unfortunately, Kris had only seen Trish and couldn’t identify the rest. Hopefully, their confessions would be enough for a conviction.
They arrived and the threesome headed slowly to the reception desk, Adam still unsteady. They were told to have a seat and Travers would be with them soon. Goliath scanned the room, always on the lookout for anyone who might harm his boys. Adam kept his eyes downcast, wrapping his arms around himself. Kris handed him a tissue and he wiped his brow. The infection was still slam dancing in his body and all he wanted to do was curl up with Kris and sleep.
Travers emerged from his office and led them towards several debriefing rooms. Another detective was there, taking Adam alone into one of them.
“Isn’t Kris coming?” Adam asked, worrying his bottom lip.
“No, we don’t want your statements to be unduly influenced by the other. It won’t take long,” Travers explained.
Adam looked at Kris who could only smile reassuringly and nod. Adam went with the other detective and Kris followed Travers into a second room. Goliath waited in the hall.
Kris and Travers took a seat and the detective opened up a file on the table, turning it around and pushing it towards Kris. He dropped a pen beside it.
“This is the statement you gave the day we arrested Miss Wagner. Read it over in case you have anything to correct or add. When you’re satisfied with it, please sign here and here.”
Kris read it over. He had Travers add a description of Adam’s injuries before he signed it, closed the file and pushed it back across the table.
“Can I go see Adam now?”
“Not till he’s given his statement. You can keep an eye on him if you want.”
Travers flipped a switch beside a mirror Kris hadn’t noticed when he came in, and like magic, the reflective surface transformed into a window.
Adam’s latest drama played out like a silent film. Kris couldn’t hear what was being said but he could read Adam’s face and body language. Adam rested his head on one hand, the other tapping the table. His lips moved, he nodded, he shook his head, he winced as his neck hurt. Adam gestured towards a side table and was given a bottle of water and a box of tissue. He guzzled the water like a parched man and wiped his face, several times.
Travers frowned.
“He’s still running a fever.”
“Gotcha.”
“So, when we’re done here, that’s it. They’re convicted and put away.”
“Not necessarily.”
Kris turned to Travers. “What are you saying? You’ve got the evidence, our statements and their confessions - why wouldn’t they be convicted?”
“Mr. Allen, have a seat.”
Kris sat, looking over his shoulder towards Adam once more before giving Travers his undivided attention.
“What you said is true. We have your statement, Mr. Lambert’s, the statement of Mr. Lambert’s bodyguard, a grainy surveillance tape and their confessions.”
“So what’s stopping you?”
“The judge might grant leniency. None of them have previous records and there’s a good chance they might get off with a fine and/or community service and a warning to stay away from Mr. Lambert.”
“No!” Kris slammed his fists on the table. “They can’t get away with it!” He pushed his palms into his eyes, rubbing away tears. “Can’t Adam give a victim impact statement? If the judge hears what this has done to him - the anxiety attacks, the injuries - how it’s stripped him of his dignity, surely…”
“I’m sorry Mr. Allen. If it were up to me, I would lock them all up. I’m sick and tired of purps getting away with no more than a slap on the wrist but it’s not in my power. All I can do is build the best possible case and hope justice will prevail.”
Kris twisted in his chair, looking back through the window. Just then, another man entered Adam’s prison, carrying a camera. Jumping to his feet, Kris plastered himself to the window. The other detective said something, Adam’s eyes grew fearful as he looked at the new guy then shook his head emphatically. The detective said something else; Kris could tell he was getting pissed. Adam shook his head again, something more was said then Adam closed his eyes and nodded. He stood up and started undoing his shirt.
“What’s going on? Why are they making him undress?”
Travers placed a hand on Kris’ shoulder. “That’s Miller from forensics. We need pictures of Mr. Lambert’s injuries to include in the report.”
Kris turned on Travers. “You didn’t say anything about pictures! You have to stop this NOW!”
“You want as airtight a case as possible don’t you Mr. Allen?”
“Of course you know I do.”
“Then let us do our job.”
Kris turned back to the disturbing photo shoot. Adam was standing in front of the blank wall, his shirt off, exposing the healing scratches and fading bruises on his chest and arms, averting his face. Adam then turned around so they could take pictures of his back. The detective carefully released the tape from one side of the bandage and moved the gauze aside. The wound looked angry, the marks of the infection still very much evident. Miller took several shots of this, going in for a close up.
The bandage was reattached and Adam reached for his shirt. The detective mimed again. Adam peered over his shoulder and Kris read his lips - ‘whatever’. Adam undid his jeans and pulled them down on one side, along with his briefs, just as he had done for Kris a little more than 24 hours ago, revealing the huge bruise on his hip and upper thigh. Miller bent down and took several more pictures before leaving. Adam pulled up his pants, shaking as he did up the zipper and button, slipped on his shirt, and bolted for the door.
Kris rushed into the hall. Adam was standing beside Goliath as the gentle giant helped him with the buttons. Adam looked to Kris, his eyes heavy with pain. He started to sway and Kris hurried to his side, helping him to a nearby bench.
“Are we finished here? Adam really needs to get home and rest.”
“Sure, but give me a minute; I have something for Mr. Lambert in my desk.”
Kris joined Adam on the bench. Goliath went to pull the car around and Adam rested his head on Kris’ shoulder. Kris took his hand and held on tight.
Travers came back with a clear bag. Adam recognized his jewelry - rings, bracelets, watch, broken necklace. Travers held it out to him but Adam left it hanging.
“I don’t want them.”
Kris reached out and took the bag instead. Goliath came back and helped Adam to the car. Kris turned to Travers one last time.
“You’ll let us know the verdict?”
“Of course, though it may not be for a couple of days.”
“Whenever, just call me, not Adam, with the news - good or bad. If they get off, I want to be the one to tell him.”
“No problem. I wish him luck - both of you luck.”
--*--
The car pulled in to an enclosed delivery dock, avoiding the press buzzing around the hotel’s front entrance. They took the staff elevator and walked silently to Adam’s room.
The door was open and their friends waited inside for them - Jackass too. They promised not to stay long - they just wanted to see for themselves that Adam was okay and to personally offer their love and support. Adam managed to stay on his feet, smiling as they formed a line, giving him a hug - and the occasional kiss - before leaving. Jackass was at the end of the line.
“I, um, owe you a huge apology. I shouldn’t have been such asshole - even though I had a reason to be. I hope we can move past this and get on with things.”
Kris considered that a half ass apology but Adam seemed to accept it. They shook hands and Jackass headed for the door.
“By the way,” Jackass stopped, turning around, “take tomorrow off and if you feel up to it, you can come to the studio with us the next day. It won’t matter if you miss a couple of rehearsals - you know what you’re doing. Night.”
Adam sat on the bed, shocked. “Did I hear a compliment?”
“Yeah, and Satan just tweeted hell has frozen over.”
Kris emptied the bag from the hospital as Adam surveyed his room; he hardly recognized the place, it was so clean and tidy. He certainly didn’t recognize the roll away bed and luggage tucked in the corner.
He raised an eyebrow and smiled at Kris. “Are we having a sleepover?”
Kris blushed. “Sort of.”
“You missed being roomies didn’t you?”
“Well, you need someone to help you get better…”
“…and you missed me.”
“…and probably being alone is the last thing you need right now…”
“…and you missed me.”
“…and…I did miss you...a little. So, do you want something to eat - I could call room service - or do you just want to sleep.”
“You know what I really, really want Kristopher?”
Kris smirked. “Dare I ask?”
“A hot, steamy…shower. My hair and skin feel like shit and I stink of antiseptic.”
“I don’t know…” Kris consulted the information sheet from the hospital. “It says here not to let the wound get wet. How about a wash in the sink?”
“Better yet, you could give me a sponge bath.”
“Nice try Lambert.” He took Adam by the elbow and helped him to the bathroom. “I’ll help with your hair and back after you’ve taken care of the rest.” He closed the door, leaving Adam alone inside.
“You don’t know what you’re missing!” Adam called through the door, followed by carefree laughter.
“I do,” Kris whispered to himself, grabbing a cold bottle of booze from the mini fridge and gulping it back. “Believe me, I do.”
--*--
Kris kicked back on the couch, channel surfing. He checked his watch; Adam had been in there quite a while. He knocked on the door.
“Adam, everything okay in there?”
“Yeah, fine.” He didn’t sound fine.
“Adam?”
Kris opened the door, peeking around it. Adam sat on the closed toilet seat, a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair full of shampoo foam.
“Adam.”
“Don’t scold me alright? I thought I could at least wash my own fucking hair in the sink but I got lightheaded.”
“Do you still feel dizzy?”
“No, now I feel stupid.”
“Come over here and shove your face in the sink.”
Adam obeyed, supporting himself on the counter. Kris filled a water glass from the tap and rinsed out the shampoo, running his fingers through Adam’s long, silky hair, being extra careful around his neck. It was a miracle Adam hadn’t soaked the bandage. Kris grabbed a dry towel and enfolded Adam’s head in a makeshift turban.
“You know, if music doesn’t work out for you, you could always get a job as a shampoo boy.”
“Sit down smartass and I’ll wash your back.”
All Adam’s fighting spirit faded away; he could fall asleep right were he sat. He closed his eyes, feeling the wash cloth run down his back, up his sides and over his shoulders. When Kris finished, he wrapped Adam in a warm towel and helped him to the bed.
“Can you get dressed yourself?”
“Yes dad.”
“Good, get to it.”
Kris headed for the bathroom. Adam pulled on a clean pair of pajama bottoms and sank back on the bed, sitting cross legged in the center. What a day, what a night, what a week! Oblivion, take me away!
Adam felt the mattress shift as Kris climbed up behind him. Wordlessly, Kris removed the bandage, wiped the wound clean, and re-dressed it. Finished, he found he couldn’t bring himself to get off the bed.
Kris followed the map of scratches on Adam’s back first with his eyes, then his fingers. It could have been so much worse. Adam’s muscles twitched beneath his touch. Kris gently started rubbing, working out the stress. Adam arched his back, relishing the sensation.
“Don’t stop Kris, that feels sooo gooood.”
The massage continued, Adam purring and Kris mesmerized as he worked Adam beneath his fingers. Adam leaned back as Kris’ hands moved to his shoulders, resting his body against Kris’ chest. Adam’s head lolled against the younger man’s shoulder, his neck offered up as an irresistible offering.
Without hesitation, Kris’ mouth moved closer to the little pulse hypnotizing him beneath Adam’s skin. He buried his nose in Adam’s damp hair, his tongue tracing the shell of Adam’s perfect ear, his mouth settling into the curve where neck met shoulder, nipping and suckling.
Adam moaned. Kris’ hands circled him, stroking his chest and pulling him closer. Adam managed to turn in Kris’ embrace till they kneeled on the bed before each other, electricity flying. Kris took off his t-shirt. Adam’s hands reached out, drawing him in.
Kris settled between Adam’s knees as their mouths met, a year’s worth of yearning and desire set free. Kris’ hands descended, cupping Adam’s….
“NO! STOP! DON’T TOUCH ME!”
Jerking away, Adam flung himself against the headboard, clutching at the comforter. Kris hadn’t missed the terror in his voice, the wild panic in his eyes.
“Kris, I’m, I’m sorry.”
“No Adam, I am. It, it was too soon. I, I wasn’t thinking.”
“Sure you were,” he managed to tease, “you, you just weren’t thinking with your brain is all.”
Kris waited until Adam calmed down.
“You better go to bed…alone this time.”
“Right, good idea. I am sorry.”
“I know. There’s no rush - I’m not going anywhere.”
Adam settled under the blankets, Kris propping the pillows behind him. It would be a few more days, Dr. Keeling had said, before Adam would be comfortable putting pressure on his neck. Taking his antibiotics, Adam closed his blue eyes and promptly fell asleep.
Kris kept one light on and muted the TV. He pulled out his cell and scrolled down to a new number he’d added that morning. He spoke softly.
“Hi Dr. Keeling, it’s Kris Allen. When you get this message in the morning, can you call me back and recommend a good therapist?” He gazed sadly at Adam. “I think we might be needing their services sooner than later.”
Author: cunningdeb
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: adam/kris
Summary: Set between the Idol finale and the start of the summer tour. Adam gets too much attention from a few of his “adoring” fans
Disclaimer: I do not own the people involved. This story does not depict the majority of Adam’s fans - idea brought on by stalker incident in Tampa.
Warnings: language, angst, violence, anxiety issues. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE TRIGGERS. I don’t know if it’s classified as non-con but Adam didn’t want the kind of attention he was given - recalled in conversation, remembrances.
Things are getting interesting!
Part One - http://cunningdeb.livejournal.com/2135.html#cutid1
Part Two - http://cunningdeb.livejournal.com/2471.html#cutid1
Part Three - http://cunningdeb.livejournal.com/2575.html#cutid1
Part Four - http://cunningdeb.livejournal.com/3170.html#cutid1
Part Five - http://cunningdeb.livejournal.com/3170.html#cutid1
Part Six - http://cunningdeb.livejournal.com/3453.html#cutid1
Part Seven - http://cunningdeb.livejournal.com/3610.html#cutid1
Part Eight - http://community.livejournal.com/kradam_ai/904034.html#cutid1
Part Nine - http://cunningdeb.livejournal.com/4139.html#cutid1
Part Ten - http://cunningdeb.livejournal.com/4489.html#cutid1
PART ELEVEN
The ride to the police station was subdued. Kris called Detective Travers, letting him know they were on their way and Adam dug through the bag of medical supplies he had been handed on the way out of his hospital room - gauze, medical tape, antiseptic, various bottles of medication and detailed care instructions.
“Any clue what I’m supposed to say?” Adam asked, dropping the bag onto the floor.
“I think you just tell your side of it and the courts take it from there.”
“Good, cause I don’t want to face them - even if I can’t remember what they look like.”
Kris wasn’t surprised to hear this. He had trouble himself remembering the hundreds of faces that passed before him every day. Unfortunately, Kris had only seen Trish and couldn’t identify the rest. Hopefully, their confessions would be enough for a conviction.
They arrived and the threesome headed slowly to the reception desk, Adam still unsteady. They were told to have a seat and Travers would be with them soon. Goliath scanned the room, always on the lookout for anyone who might harm his boys. Adam kept his eyes downcast, wrapping his arms around himself. Kris handed him a tissue and he wiped his brow. The infection was still slam dancing in his body and all he wanted to do was curl up with Kris and sleep.
Travers emerged from his office and led them towards several debriefing rooms. Another detective was there, taking Adam alone into one of them.
“Isn’t Kris coming?” Adam asked, worrying his bottom lip.
“No, we don’t want your statements to be unduly influenced by the other. It won’t take long,” Travers explained.
Adam looked at Kris who could only smile reassuringly and nod. Adam went with the other detective and Kris followed Travers into a second room. Goliath waited in the hall.
Kris and Travers took a seat and the detective opened up a file on the table, turning it around and pushing it towards Kris. He dropped a pen beside it.
“This is the statement you gave the day we arrested Miss Wagner. Read it over in case you have anything to correct or add. When you’re satisfied with it, please sign here and here.”
Kris read it over. He had Travers add a description of Adam’s injuries before he signed it, closed the file and pushed it back across the table.
“Can I go see Adam now?”
“Not till he’s given his statement. You can keep an eye on him if you want.”
Travers flipped a switch beside a mirror Kris hadn’t noticed when he came in, and like magic, the reflective surface transformed into a window.
Adam’s latest drama played out like a silent film. Kris couldn’t hear what was being said but he could read Adam’s face and body language. Adam rested his head on one hand, the other tapping the table. His lips moved, he nodded, he shook his head, he winced as his neck hurt. Adam gestured towards a side table and was given a bottle of water and a box of tissue. He guzzled the water like a parched man and wiped his face, several times.
Travers frowned.
“He’s still running a fever.”
“Gotcha.”
“So, when we’re done here, that’s it. They’re convicted and put away.”
“Not necessarily.”
Kris turned to Travers. “What are you saying? You’ve got the evidence, our statements and their confessions - why wouldn’t they be convicted?”
“Mr. Allen, have a seat.”
Kris sat, looking over his shoulder towards Adam once more before giving Travers his undivided attention.
“What you said is true. We have your statement, Mr. Lambert’s, the statement of Mr. Lambert’s bodyguard, a grainy surveillance tape and their confessions.”
“So what’s stopping you?”
“The judge might grant leniency. None of them have previous records and there’s a good chance they might get off with a fine and/or community service and a warning to stay away from Mr. Lambert.”
“No!” Kris slammed his fists on the table. “They can’t get away with it!” He pushed his palms into his eyes, rubbing away tears. “Can’t Adam give a victim impact statement? If the judge hears what this has done to him - the anxiety attacks, the injuries - how it’s stripped him of his dignity, surely…”
“I’m sorry Mr. Allen. If it were up to me, I would lock them all up. I’m sick and tired of purps getting away with no more than a slap on the wrist but it’s not in my power. All I can do is build the best possible case and hope justice will prevail.”
Kris twisted in his chair, looking back through the window. Just then, another man entered Adam’s prison, carrying a camera. Jumping to his feet, Kris plastered himself to the window. The other detective said something, Adam’s eyes grew fearful as he looked at the new guy then shook his head emphatically. The detective said something else; Kris could tell he was getting pissed. Adam shook his head again, something more was said then Adam closed his eyes and nodded. He stood up and started undoing his shirt.
“What’s going on? Why are they making him undress?”
Travers placed a hand on Kris’ shoulder. “That’s Miller from forensics. We need pictures of Mr. Lambert’s injuries to include in the report.”
Kris turned on Travers. “You didn’t say anything about pictures! You have to stop this NOW!”
“You want as airtight a case as possible don’t you Mr. Allen?”
“Of course you know I do.”
“Then let us do our job.”
Kris turned back to the disturbing photo shoot. Adam was standing in front of the blank wall, his shirt off, exposing the healing scratches and fading bruises on his chest and arms, averting his face. Adam then turned around so they could take pictures of his back. The detective carefully released the tape from one side of the bandage and moved the gauze aside. The wound looked angry, the marks of the infection still very much evident. Miller took several shots of this, going in for a close up.
The bandage was reattached and Adam reached for his shirt. The detective mimed again. Adam peered over his shoulder and Kris read his lips - ‘whatever’. Adam undid his jeans and pulled them down on one side, along with his briefs, just as he had done for Kris a little more than 24 hours ago, revealing the huge bruise on his hip and upper thigh. Miller bent down and took several more pictures before leaving. Adam pulled up his pants, shaking as he did up the zipper and button, slipped on his shirt, and bolted for the door.
Kris rushed into the hall. Adam was standing beside Goliath as the gentle giant helped him with the buttons. Adam looked to Kris, his eyes heavy with pain. He started to sway and Kris hurried to his side, helping him to a nearby bench.
“Are we finished here? Adam really needs to get home and rest.”
“Sure, but give me a minute; I have something for Mr. Lambert in my desk.”
Kris joined Adam on the bench. Goliath went to pull the car around and Adam rested his head on Kris’ shoulder. Kris took his hand and held on tight.
Travers came back with a clear bag. Adam recognized his jewelry - rings, bracelets, watch, broken necklace. Travers held it out to him but Adam left it hanging.
“I don’t want them.”
Kris reached out and took the bag instead. Goliath came back and helped Adam to the car. Kris turned to Travers one last time.
“You’ll let us know the verdict?”
“Of course, though it may not be for a couple of days.”
“Whenever, just call me, not Adam, with the news - good or bad. If they get off, I want to be the one to tell him.”
“No problem. I wish him luck - both of you luck.”
--*--
The car pulled in to an enclosed delivery dock, avoiding the press buzzing around the hotel’s front entrance. They took the staff elevator and walked silently to Adam’s room.
The door was open and their friends waited inside for them - Jackass too. They promised not to stay long - they just wanted to see for themselves that Adam was okay and to personally offer their love and support. Adam managed to stay on his feet, smiling as they formed a line, giving him a hug - and the occasional kiss - before leaving. Jackass was at the end of the line.
“I, um, owe you a huge apology. I shouldn’t have been such asshole - even though I had a reason to be. I hope we can move past this and get on with things.”
Kris considered that a half ass apology but Adam seemed to accept it. They shook hands and Jackass headed for the door.
“By the way,” Jackass stopped, turning around, “take tomorrow off and if you feel up to it, you can come to the studio with us the next day. It won’t matter if you miss a couple of rehearsals - you know what you’re doing. Night.”
Adam sat on the bed, shocked. “Did I hear a compliment?”
“Yeah, and Satan just tweeted hell has frozen over.”
Kris emptied the bag from the hospital as Adam surveyed his room; he hardly recognized the place, it was so clean and tidy. He certainly didn’t recognize the roll away bed and luggage tucked in the corner.
He raised an eyebrow and smiled at Kris. “Are we having a sleepover?”
Kris blushed. “Sort of.”
“You missed being roomies didn’t you?”
“Well, you need someone to help you get better…”
“…and you missed me.”
“…and probably being alone is the last thing you need right now…”
“…and you missed me.”
“…and…I did miss you...a little. So, do you want something to eat - I could call room service - or do you just want to sleep.”
“You know what I really, really want Kristopher?”
Kris smirked. “Dare I ask?”
“A hot, steamy…shower. My hair and skin feel like shit and I stink of antiseptic.”
“I don’t know…” Kris consulted the information sheet from the hospital. “It says here not to let the wound get wet. How about a wash in the sink?”
“Better yet, you could give me a sponge bath.”
“Nice try Lambert.” He took Adam by the elbow and helped him to the bathroom. “I’ll help with your hair and back after you’ve taken care of the rest.” He closed the door, leaving Adam alone inside.
“You don’t know what you’re missing!” Adam called through the door, followed by carefree laughter.
“I do,” Kris whispered to himself, grabbing a cold bottle of booze from the mini fridge and gulping it back. “Believe me, I do.”
--*--
Kris kicked back on the couch, channel surfing. He checked his watch; Adam had been in there quite a while. He knocked on the door.
“Adam, everything okay in there?”
“Yeah, fine.” He didn’t sound fine.
“Adam?”
Kris opened the door, peeking around it. Adam sat on the closed toilet seat, a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair full of shampoo foam.
“Adam.”
“Don’t scold me alright? I thought I could at least wash my own fucking hair in the sink but I got lightheaded.”
“Do you still feel dizzy?”
“No, now I feel stupid.”
“Come over here and shove your face in the sink.”
Adam obeyed, supporting himself on the counter. Kris filled a water glass from the tap and rinsed out the shampoo, running his fingers through Adam’s long, silky hair, being extra careful around his neck. It was a miracle Adam hadn’t soaked the bandage. Kris grabbed a dry towel and enfolded Adam’s head in a makeshift turban.
“You know, if music doesn’t work out for you, you could always get a job as a shampoo boy.”
“Sit down smartass and I’ll wash your back.”
All Adam’s fighting spirit faded away; he could fall asleep right were he sat. He closed his eyes, feeling the wash cloth run down his back, up his sides and over his shoulders. When Kris finished, he wrapped Adam in a warm towel and helped him to the bed.
“Can you get dressed yourself?”
“Yes dad.”
“Good, get to it.”
Kris headed for the bathroom. Adam pulled on a clean pair of pajama bottoms and sank back on the bed, sitting cross legged in the center. What a day, what a night, what a week! Oblivion, take me away!
Adam felt the mattress shift as Kris climbed up behind him. Wordlessly, Kris removed the bandage, wiped the wound clean, and re-dressed it. Finished, he found he couldn’t bring himself to get off the bed.
Kris followed the map of scratches on Adam’s back first with his eyes, then his fingers. It could have been so much worse. Adam’s muscles twitched beneath his touch. Kris gently started rubbing, working out the stress. Adam arched his back, relishing the sensation.
“Don’t stop Kris, that feels sooo gooood.”
The massage continued, Adam purring and Kris mesmerized as he worked Adam beneath his fingers. Adam leaned back as Kris’ hands moved to his shoulders, resting his body against Kris’ chest. Adam’s head lolled against the younger man’s shoulder, his neck offered up as an irresistible offering.
Without hesitation, Kris’ mouth moved closer to the little pulse hypnotizing him beneath Adam’s skin. He buried his nose in Adam’s damp hair, his tongue tracing the shell of Adam’s perfect ear, his mouth settling into the curve where neck met shoulder, nipping and suckling.
Adam moaned. Kris’ hands circled him, stroking his chest and pulling him closer. Adam managed to turn in Kris’ embrace till they kneeled on the bed before each other, electricity flying. Kris took off his t-shirt. Adam’s hands reached out, drawing him in.
Kris settled between Adam’s knees as their mouths met, a year’s worth of yearning and desire set free. Kris’ hands descended, cupping Adam’s….
“NO! STOP! DON’T TOUCH ME!”
Jerking away, Adam flung himself against the headboard, clutching at the comforter. Kris hadn’t missed the terror in his voice, the wild panic in his eyes.
“Kris, I’m, I’m sorry.”
“No Adam, I am. It, it was too soon. I, I wasn’t thinking.”
“Sure you were,” he managed to tease, “you, you just weren’t thinking with your brain is all.”
Kris waited until Adam calmed down.
“You better go to bed…alone this time.”
“Right, good idea. I am sorry.”
“I know. There’s no rush - I’m not going anywhere.”
Adam settled under the blankets, Kris propping the pillows behind him. It would be a few more days, Dr. Keeling had said, before Adam would be comfortable putting pressure on his neck. Taking his antibiotics, Adam closed his blue eyes and promptly fell asleep.
Kris kept one light on and muted the TV. He pulled out his cell and scrolled down to a new number he’d added that morning. He spoke softly.
“Hi Dr. Keeling, it’s Kris Allen. When you get this message in the morning, can you call me back and recommend a good therapist?” He gazed sadly at Adam. “I think we might be needing their services sooner than later.”