Lay Down My Heart
Title: Lay Down My Heart
Author: Jerakeen
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Rating: PG-13
Length: 6,060 words
Disclaimer: Not real. Title is from the song I Can’t Make You Love Me (cover) by Adam Lambert.
Warnings: Cliché. Sap. I wrote this a couple billion times before. Self-indulgence at its best!
Notes: Written for holland who won my offer for a 1,000+ word ficlet at the ontd_ai charity auction.
Beta by minglingcrab.
Summary: Kris’ love life has never been very eventful.
Kris wants to be at home. He wants to be at home so badly, he can almost taste the chocolate cake he’d meant to bake tonight; it was going to be half-burnt, since that’s inevitable with his baking skills, but Kris would have preferred it to the overwhelmingly metallic taste in his mouth right now. It’s the acid green shots Megan has been handing him all night. They tasted like apples going down, but now, they’re beginning to show their true colors.
He tries to wash the lingering taste away with beer, but that only makes him feel even more nauseous.
It’s Anoop’s not-bachelor party, and there was no way out of it for Kris. The club Matt has brought them to-though thankfully not a strip club-is not his scene; he doesn’t want to dance, or listen to the amusing stories of Adam’s sexual escapades, or be cheerful and lively, because for once he is just not in the mood. If he didn’t think it would make him sound like a petulant teenager, he’d just tell the guys that; but since he’s ‘Kris, the level-headed guy’-and they’re all busy in the back booth right now, laughing hysterically at yet another one of Adam’s stories-he doesn’t. Instead, he hides out at the bar and tries to act like a well-adjusted-and certainly not depressed-human being, one who is very happy for his friend.
He works especially hard on his happy-for-his-friend face.
Kris is not happy for Anoop. He thinks it’s a mistake to marry so early in a relationship. After all, his and Katy’s marriage failed after almost a decade of being together; how is a three-month-old relationship supposed to survive? But it’s none of his business, so he keeps his mouth shut. Besides, Kris knows himself well enough to know that these thoughts originate at least in part from his own bitterness; he wouldn’t be feeling this pessimistic if not for his own failure of a love life.
But there’s no helping it; his love life is at an all time low, he is bitter and angry and hurt, and he is obviously not ready to be back among real people again. He’d been doing so well at home-where meeting Adam again was just an idea, and not an actual fact. It was vague and comfortable and always in the future. Kris misses the idea.
Kris’ love life has never been very eventful, but he’d say it was satisfying. He’s slept with two people before, both women, and has kissed a grand total of four people in his whole life-none of whom were Adam Lambert. He doesn’t know what it says about him that he resents that fact.
He’d meant to kiss Adam-more than a month ago now. He’d thought about it, and was all ready for it - but Adam took a step backward and stared at him with panic and horror, and now Kris is pretty sure that he will never, ever again try to kiss anyone who isn’t throwing themselves at his lips, because he has no words-still!-to describe how horrifying and humiliating and painful that moment was. The actual rejection, when it came, didn’t hit him half as hard, probably because he was already numb in all the places that counted; but the words did stay with him afterwards in mostly nonsensical, weird chunks - we can’t, you don’t know, see other people, other guys… Kris knows-he knows Adam so well-that Adam is full of shit sometimes, but he also knows Adam never means to hurt, least of all hurt him, and his heart is in the right place. So even though Kris doesn’t take whatever he can remember of Adam’s words to heart, he forgives Adam-for the most part-for hurting him by hiding behind them.
It’s been 41 days since he tried to kiss Adam and got the rejection of his life, 45 days since his divorce was finalized, and 93 days since he finally agreed that there was no way to save his marriage. Kris downs almost half of his beer in one go and thinks that, considering all that, he’s actually holding up pretty well.
-
Kris is trying to not watch Adam dance when a guy takes the stool next to his and offers him a pleasant smile. Kris finds himself smiling back, because the guy seems friendly and nonthreatening, and those are qualities Kris appreciates and would like to have in his life right now.
“I’m Tom,” the guy introduces himself, holding out a hand. It’s an unnecessarily formal introduction at a club where people meet and practically have sex on the dance floor; it makes Kris smile wider and shake Tom’s hand, forgetting his own woes and really paying attention for a moment.
Tom is tall and kind of geeky-looking. With his sneakers and grey t-shirt, he looks as out of place in the club as Kris feels. He’s a handsome guy, dark blond hair and solid build, but there’s a hesitant, shy air about him that puts Kris instantly at ease. Kris has nothing against confident people, but the last thing he needs right now is to be hit on by some guy who reminds him of Adam in any way. So even though he has no intention of hooking up with anyone-despite Adam’s advice to the contrary-Kris finds himself smiling at Tom and striking up a conversation, because he figures why the hell not? The studio won’t leave him alone forever. He can only hide for so long. He needs to get on with his life, try and move on in his own way. And this is a good opportunity-baby steps.
Tom stammers a little at first, flustered under Kris’ attention. He is a fan, though thankfully not the ‘oh my gosh, I’m so in love with you’ kind. He says he plays a little himself-wanted to be a rock star once upon a time, he admits to Kris with a slight blush. But it didn’t work out; half his band got married and had kids, and the other half gave up on the dream. He likes Kris’ success story, because it makes him think of what might have been, which is something Kris completely understands. He’s looking at Tom himself, and thinking what might have been.
They talk about Kris’ last album, because music is something they both feel comfortable discussing, and Kris finds himself scooting closer to hear Tom better.
“My favorite song from the album is Wildest Moments.”
Kris stares, the hand holding his beer frozen in the air.
Tom rushes to explain, misunderstanding Kris’ reaction. “I…I know it wasn’t the most popular song, but…”
“No, no,” Kris says, shaking himself awake. “It’s my favorite, too.”
Kris smiles. Tom smiles back at him, looking away quickly when the moment lasts too long, and playing with the label on the beer bottle in front of him. Kris thinks he would look exactly like that if he were trying to pick up a guy he liked; it’s surprisingly endearing.
“It was never going to be a popular song. It was too personal.”
Tom doesn’t ask, but Kris tells him anyway.
“It was about my marriage falling apart.”
Kris has never really come out and told anyone that before. It’s a melancholy song, kind of sad even, but the lyrics aren’t really specific, and Kris doesn’t think people can tell exactly what it’s about. Maybe Adam could, but he’s always steered clear of the issue of Kris’ marital problems, so Kris can’t be sure if he didn’t know or just never said anything.
“My friends and I, we get together every few weeks and hang out and jam a little, but it’s not enough, you know? So I have some gear at home that I fool around with-at night when I can’t sleep, or when I’m not hanging out with friends from work who ditch me in weird clubs.”
Kris chuckles at the face Tom makes.
“I mean, I don’t really write songs anymore, but I still work on some stuff, do some recording once every blue moon.” Tom offers a hesitant smile. “I did an arrangement of Wildest Moments on piano a while back. Slowed it down a little, tried to give it a more jazzy feel.”
“I’d love to hear that,” Kris says, and not even out of politeness. He misses nothing-but-a-hobby musicians; they’re really honest in a way that gets lost when you start making money. It begins to get tainted; bit by bit, the music gets taken over by practical things like sales and image.
“It’s not much,” Tom says, urgently. He sounds both excited and worried. “It doesn’t have vocals; I don’t sing. And that song-seriously man, I’m not trying to suck up or anything, but that song has great lyrics. I really do think it’s your best.”
“Thank you,” Kris nods. He has learned to take compliments since he won Idol, both genuine and fake ones, and Tom’s sound pretty genuine to him. “Maybe we should add vocals to it,” he suggests, bolder than even alcohol would normally make him.
Tom’s eyes open wide with shock. “You would do that? Really?”
Kris grins. It’s easy to be bold when there’s no risk of rejection. But there’s nothing wrong with easy; Kris needs a little easy in his life right now. “Sure. Anytime.”
Tom grins back at him. And that’s when the not-so-easy part of Kris’ life chooses to intervene.
-
Allison hugs him from behind and places her chin on his shoulder. “Kris. You’re supposed to dance with me. You promised.”
Kris smiles; he can’t not smile at Allison. “I did no such thing.”
He can’t see it, but he is pretty sure Allison is pouting. “Okay, maybe not promised,” she backtracks, “but it was definitely implied.”
“It doesn’t count when you’re the one doing the implying.”
Allison heaves a sigh. “Does your friend dance?”
Kris looks over at Tom, who shakes his head with a good-natured smile. “You’re out of luck,” Kris says.
“You’re leaving me no choice but to dance with Adam all night, Kris, and if I die of exhaustion trying to keep up with him, it’ll be all your fault.”
Kris stiffens at the mention of Adam’s name, but doesn’t think Allison notices. She pulls back and turns around, already dancing where she’s standing.
“Lambert!” she yells at the crowd, getting an indistinct answer from Adam, followed by a loud laugh.
Kris turns his head around to look and sees Adam making his way through the dancing mob-smiling and sweaty, hair slightly mussed, his jacket absent and his shirt buttons undone halfway down his chest. Kris makes himself look away and take deep breaths. This is the drawback of falling for the sexiest guy in existence; you can’t get over the image, even if you can somehow get over the person.
“You bellowed, milady?” Adam asks, grabbing Allison’s hand and twirling her around. Kris’ heart beats violently in his chest, almost like it’s trying to reach out to Adam, but Kris grits his teeth and tells it to quit it. He refuses to be that pathetic, even in the privacy of his own heart.
“…and Kris likes his new friend more than he likes me, I think,” Kris hears Allison say when he focuses back on the conversation. Adam looks at Kris and then at Tom and then back at Kris, his gaze suddenly serious and calculating; not at all like Allison, who is obviously drunk and joking.
“Adam Lambert,” he introduces himself to Tom, standing tall, his slouch and loose limbs suddenly gone without a trace.
Tom shakes his hand, slightly confused, saying, “I’m Tom. And I know who you are.” Kris notices with unexpected pleasure that Tom is not that nervous about meeting Adam-certainly not half as nervous as he was about Kris. The thought makes Kris beam at Tom stupidly.
Allison is trying to pull Adam towards the dance floor, but Adam ignores her and takes a step closer to Kris. He puts a hand on Kris’ waist and leans in close-closer than is strictly necessary; closer than Kris thinks he normally would. “Are you sure you don’t wanna dance?”
Kris blinks at him, thinking for a moment that maybe Adam somehow got the impression that Kris needs to be rescued from Tom, mistaking him for a stalker fan. But no, the look in Adam’s eyes is one Kris has seen before, though never in regards to Kris. Adam is in full asshole mode, everything warm and honest about him hidden behind a smiling mask. He looks dangerous and cold like a shark. Kris recoils from his touch.
“Yes, I’m sure,” he makes himself say.
Adam rolls his eyes and shrugs. He lets Allison pull him away and they get lost in the crowd.
It takes Kris a good five minutes to unclench his jaw.
-
Tom is observant and understanding and very, very interested.
Afterwards, it takes them a while to get back to the easy conversation they’d had going, but they manage, and eventually find themselves talking and joking, about cars of all things-which neither of them know anything about-and as they wait for their fresh drinks, Tom puts a hand on Kris’ arm and says, “I don’t know a lot about you, obviously, and I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings, because you’re really, surprisingly nice in person, so I just wanna say, even though I have been kind of hitting on you-though possibly very badly-if you have someone in your life, or if you’re not interested in guys, or if you’re not interested in me, I’d still very much like to get to know you better.” His cheeks are pink, but he holds Kris’ gaze, looking sober and solemn. “I could use a friend like you. And not just because you’re Kris Allen.”
Kris thinks about taking the out-he can use a friend like Tom-but then decides against it. There’s a glimmer of attraction here, and he can use that even more right now.
He shakes his head. “I don’t have anyone in my life.”
“To be honest, that’s not what it looked like,” Tom says, motioning towards the dance floor.
Kris takes a long swig from his fourth (maybe fifth?) beer. “Looks can be deceiving.”
-
It’s almost midnight and Kris is considering his options for the end of the night. Should he give Tom his number and just leave? Should he invite him home? Should he go to Tom’s place?
It’s not like he’s ever done this before.
“Kris!” Adam plants a kiss on Kris’ cheek, loud and fake, and wraps an arm around his shoulders. “You coming back to the table?”
Kris’ muscles clench, all at once. He looks over at Tom, who is politely looking away.
“Thinking about heading out actually,” he says, and wonders at how normal his voice comes out.
It’s Adam’s turn to tense. “So soon?”
“Yeah, Tom and I, we were thinking about working on a song tonight.”
Tom hides his surprise well, though he does spare Kris a look that asks where exactly he is going with this. Kris would answer if he knew.
Kris gets up from his stool and shakes Adam’s arm off. “I should say good night to the guys,” he says to Tom. “I’ll meet you outside in a second, okay?”
“Sure,” Tom says, giving Adam a wary look, and grabbing his jacket to head out.
Kris takes another step away from Adam; he’ll go and say his goodbyes, and then figure out what to do about Tom, though something inside him says that he’s going to do exactly as he told Adam. He doesn’t want the night to end like this. Like washing away the taste of the apple shots with the beer, he wants to wash away the bitter taste Adam left in his mouth with Tom, maybe even literally.
Adam, as always, seems to have other plans. He grabs Kris’ arm in a vice-like grip and turns him around. “You are not going home with that guy.”
Kris crosses his arms over his chest, and reminds himself that he is against violence. “Really.”
Adam looks angry, as if he has the right. “You don’t even know him.”
“How exactly is that your business?”
The raised eyebrow seems mocking, but the way Adam licks his lips betrays his nervousness. “I’m your friend.”
“And so is Tom.”
Adam smirks at him, the twist of his lips infuriating and ugly. “Oh, he’s shooting for more than your friendship.”
Kris doesn’t even have to think about the answer. “I know.”
Adam literally takes a step back at that. Kris shouldn’t be surprised at his reaction; he always did think Kris was completely clueless. “Really? Wow. Didn’t know that was your style.”
Kris shakes his head. “Is this conversation going somewhere? Because I’m supposed to be-”
“Meeting your fuck buddy?”
Adam’s face and tone have been going between best friend and complete asshole all night, but the way he sneers the words fuck buddy makes Kris finally lose his cool.
“What the hell is your problem?”
“I don’t have a problem.” Adam shrugs and purses his lips. “I just don’t like the guy. I think you’re drunk and you’re doing something you’ll regret.”
Kris shakes his head impatiently. He hates that he can see through Adam’s bullshit. “You don’t get to say no to this. This has nothing to do with you.”
Adam’s eyes go soft, and that makes Kris even angrier.
“You know it does.”
Kris thinks about elephants and how he is not good at ignoring them. It happened; they might as well acknowledge it-especially since Adam is acting like a jerk over it. “You said no when I asked you, and that’s fine, I’ll get over it, but you don’t get to pick and choose who I sleep with now.”
“As a friend-”
“No,” Kris cuts him off sharply. “Not as a friend, not as anything. This is mine to decide. Besides, you were the one who said I wasn’t experienced enough.”
Adam’s gaze locks onto Kris’; he doesn’t look at all drunk now. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Of course not,” Kris nods. “You just meant that I didn’t know what I was talking about. Well, I’m about to find out. Tom seems eager to help me out with that.”
“Bet he is,” Adam mumbles.
“He’s interested, and attractive, and he’s a musician.”
Adam rolls his eyes and snorts, his face losing every genuine line. Kris knows that Adam is capable of being cruel and fake and cold, but he never is with Kris, and this, now, feels like the biggest betrayal of all. “I’d hardly call that attractive,” Adam says, and even his tone sounds fake. “And did you see his feet? That’s not a myth, you know. I’m sorry to tell you, but I’m pretty sure he has a small dick.”
Kris feels his blood boil and his heart freeze all at once.
“That’ll make things easier for my first time then, won’t it?”
They stare at each other, Adam’s mask finally cracked, Kris’ chest heaving with anger. Kris thinks maybe Adam would apologize if he gives him the chance now, but he is not in a giving mood.
“Tell the guys I said goodbye,” he says and leaves without another word.
-
It’s past 4:00 AM when Kris makes it home. He waves hello to Woody, who tips his hat at him, steps into the elevator, and presses 6. He takes his jacket off and stretches his arms as the cab makes its way up to his floor steadily, and steps out when the doors open with a ding. He has his keys in his hand when he looks up and freezes in the middle of the hallway.
Adam is sitting on the floor in front of his door, elbows resting on his knees, looking tired and creased, much like his jacket, hanging from the door handle. Kris makes his legs move, and as he gets closer, he can see Adam rearranging his face from tired to inscrutable. Kris isn’t particularly worried about reading him though; neither of them is angry anymore. They never can stay angry at each other.
Adam steps aside as Kris unlocks the door.
“Woody would have opened the door for you if you’d asked.”
“I know,” Adam says. His voice is scratchy, like an old record. “He offered. I didn’t think it’d be right.”
Kris isn’t surprised. Adam is thoughtful like that-at least when he isn’t acting like a complete ass.
They step inside; Kris drops his keys on the side table, and throws his jacket on the armchair that he never uses-it’s there as proof that letting other people decorate your home is always a mistake. Then he turns around and stares at Adam. He is too tired to talk around the issue right now. Whatever Adam feels like saying, Kris just wants him to spit it out and leave him to sleep.
Adam fidgets, pulling down the sleeves of his shirt nervously. Kris tries not to stare at his arms.
“I…wanted to apologize.”
Kris nods. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry,” Adam says, sounding sincere, if a little distant. “I was a jerk. I had no right to say those things and act the way I did. You didn’t deserve that.”
“Okay,” Kris says again. “Apology accepted.”
Adam looks up to meet his eyes; Kris almost sighs with relief to see that it’s his friend and not a stranger staring back at him. They’ll get through this one, too, as long as Adam stays Adam, the Adam Kris met and spent months stuck in a room with, the warm and honest guy-and not the evil twin with the sarcastic, mocking smile.
“Now let’s hear it with your own words,” Kris says, surprising even himself. This isn’t the way to avoid dragging it out.
“What?”
“That felt rehearsed,” Kris says, then hazards a guess. “Who came up with it? Neil?”
Adam cracks a smile. “Mom,” he admits.
“Right,” Kris says. Of course it was Leila. “Now tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I was out of line,” Adam says. “I screwed up.”
Kris nods. “It happens.”
Adam shakes his head, looking around the room as if he’s searching for a way out. “It doesn’t. At least it shouldn’t. Not with us.”
Kris shrugs and offers him a small smile. “Don’t sweat it, man. I was the one who screwed with the balance. I get that it’ll take time to readjust.”
Adam opens his mouth to protest, but Kris stops him.
“You want something to drink? I need some water.”
-
Kris gets himself a bottle of water from his too-large-to-exist fridge, and throws another to Adam, who is standing next to the door, obviously not sure of his welcome. Kris doesn’t want to mess with whatever self-punishment thing Adam has going on, but that is just ridiculous.
“Sit,” he says, pointing to a chair, and busies himself with the coffeemaker. He takes the second chair once he manages to get the coffee going. “How’s your mom?”
“Good. Sleepless, because of me.”
They share a smile.
“You didn’t screw anything up,” Adam says, suddenly back to serious. “You just. You said what was in your mind. I was the one that screwed things up. Last month. And again, tonight.”
Kris doesn’t comment. It is sort of true.
“So, um.” Adam clears his throat. “How was your night?”
Kris stares at him, watches him look everywhere but at Kris. “I don’t think,” Kris says slowly, watching Adam’s face carefully for reactions, “we’re at that point where we can discuss my sex life.” And there, a slight twitch, a wince almost, at the mention of Kris’ sex life.
It’s like a puzzle, the way Adam has been acting tonight. Kris thinks he knows what the final picture is going to be, but he wouldn’t even dare to voice it out loud without more pieces fitting together. He’s had enough disappointments involving Adam to last him a lifetime.
“Of course. I just…” Adam looks up, intense and worried. “He didn’t hurt you, right?”
Kris rolls his eyes. “I’m not a kid.”
“I know,” Adam says, but keeps staring, waiting.
“He didn’t hurt me.”
Adam lets out an almost inaudible sigh. “Okay.”
-
Kris watches Adam walk around his kitchen with a pang in his chest. Adam knows where everything is; now that he’s let go of his self-punishment routine, he’s as comfortable as if it’s his own apartment, and Kris likes that. Kris loves that. He wants Adam to stay forever. When put together with what happened tonight, that’s not a very healthy thing. He thinks maybe it would have been better if they’d kept fighting, if Adam hadn’t backed down.
Adam puts a steaming mug of coffee in front of him, and Kris blurts it out. “I think we need space.”
Adam sits down, looking wary. “What kind of space?”
“You’re busy anyway, right? And I’m…doing okay. So I think we should not see each other for a while, let things cool off.”
Kris takes a sip from his too-hot coffee and sneaks a glance at Adam from over his mug; Adam is staring at the table, unmoving. When he looks up, he looks determined. “We don’t need to do that. I’m going to get over myself. It won’t be like tonight.”
“It’s not just about you,” Kris explains. “I can’t-when you’re around, I don’t know if-”
“I promise to be very respectful of your boyfriends,” Adam says, his smile and the joking tone obviously forced. “In fact. Tell me about Tom. We should-I’m your best friend, you should tell me.”
Kris stands up, his chair skittering backwards. “No,” he says, pointing an accusing finger at Adam. “See, I’m not doing that. We’re not acting like nothing happened.”
“But nothing happened.”
Kris stares at him, incredulous. “Maybe for you, yeah. But for me-” He chuckles and runs a hand through his hair. His face feels like it’s flaming. “Space, Adam. I need space.”
Adam doesn’t even get up. “Tell me,” he says.
Kris shakes his head and paces back and forth between the fridge and the table. Talk about it, get it all out in the open, or throw Adam out and not call him for a couple of months; Kris isn’t sure which one makes more sense. Right now, what makes sense to him is grabbing Adam’s face and kissing him until neither of them has any breath left in them, but that’s not an option-not unless he wants yet another rejection.
He stops at the table and braces his hands on it. “What happened is I got divorced. And then I confused our friendship for something else. And now I need time and space to sort it all out.”
There’s a moment’s silence, and then Adam says, “So it was a mistake? What you said-the last time.”
Kris raises his head up and stares at him uncomprehending. “You said it was a mistake.”
“I didn’t-I just said-”
“Oh, no,” Kris laughs, backing away from Adam and the table until his back hits the counter. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to change your mind, or make it so I was the one who misunderstood. I really can’t-”
“No, you didn’t,” Adam interrupts him. “I just…” He takes a deep breath, as if he’s getting ready to dive into a pool. “I loved Brad. I loved him so much; it felt as if I couldn’t breathe without him. And he loved me back. We were crazy in love. But then it didn’t work out. And we had to struggle to find a new balance, a new way of staying in each other’s lives. It took years. We almost didn’t make it.”
He stops and takes a sip from his coffee. Kris waits for him to continue, his heart stuttering in his chest.
“You were safe,” Adam says. “You were married. I thought we’d never have to do this-change things and screw it up and then try and fix it again. I thought we’d be okay, that things would stay the same and we’d have each other no matter what.”
Kris tries to will his heart to calm down. It doesn’t work. He licks his lips and opens his mouth to speak, hoping his voice will come out normal. “So you said no to me, because you thought there was a chance that it wouldn’t work?”
Adam doesn’t answer, and that’s answer enough for Kris.
“In what world does that make sense?” Kris asks, biting out the words with barely contained fury. He doesn’t want to yell; no matter what, he doesn’t want to raise his voice.
Adam doesn’t answer that either.
“So that’s it?” Kris says, throwing his arms up. “You want me to pretend, because you think it might not work between us?” Adam flinches, but doesn’t make a sound. “You want me to sleep with other guys, because-” Kris laughs, he can’t help it, it’s completely ridiculous.
“What do you want me to do?” Adam asks, sounding tired and confused himself.
Kris rubs his eyes, his smile dropping off his face. “I don’t even know anymore.”
-
Kris escapes to the bathroom to wash his face, and when he comes back, he finds Adam still sitting where he left him, staring into his coffee.
“I think you should go.”
Adam doesn’t look at him. He just pushes his coffee away and stands up, checking his pockets for his car keys. Kris follows him to the door, where he starts shivering, his bare toes curling on the floor, even though it’s not cold. Adam doesn’t seem to be feeling anything; he stands stoically, his moves mechanical.
He opens the door, and stands there with his back to Kris. He’s just about to step outside when Kris’ mouth opens without his consent.
“I didn’t sleep with him.”
Adam shuts the door with a loud slam.
“We worked on the song-like I said,” Kris babbles. “We played a little piano, then we recorded the vocals of a new version of Wildest Moments, and it was nice. He made coffee, we talked, and then I walked home.”
Adam turns around to face him. Kris shrugs and looks away, because Adam’s face is frozen in an unreadable expression, and he doesn’t know what to do with that.
“You always had Katy,” Adam says, taking a tentative step closer. “I thought it would be the same now, if you had someone else. I thought I’d feel the same.”
There are at least three more steps between them, but Kris’ breath gets stuck in his throat anyway. “It’s not?” he chokes out.
Adam shakes his head. He runs a hand over his face. “Do you want to know what I did tonight? I went to my mom’s, told her about you and that guy, and I let her baby me, and then I cried, because I didn’t know what else to do.”
It’s Kris that takes a step closer this time. He feels like if maybe they hugged, just once, everything would be okay-Adam wouldn’t feel like crying and Kris wouldn’t feel like destroying something with his hands, and the balance would be restored.
“I love you,” Kris says, and wonders at how easily it comes to him. “I compare every guy I meet to you. I was comparing Katy to you towards the end. I don’t know if it’ll work, but-I don’t want anyone else.”
Adam closes his eyes and turns his face down, hiding his expression from Kris. Kris hopes he isn’t crying-or laughing-or trying to come up with ways to get out of this. He doesn’t have the strength to pick up the pieces if this particular conversation goes to hell, too.
“I will be okay,” Kris lies, “if you’re not-”
“Shut up,” Adam says, looking at him with a soft, worried smile. He takes one last step to close the distance between them. His hand trembles as it reaches out to touch Kris’. Kris bites his lip until he tastes blood, but doesn’t move an inch.
Looking down at their joined hands, Adam shakes his head. “I don’t know what to do with you.”
Kris chuckles nervously.
“Promise me something,” Adam says, giving his fingers a squeeze. “If it turns out that this isn’t what you want, that I’m not what you want-promise me you won’t hate me.”
Kris lets his head fall forward and hides his face in Adam’s shoulder, breathing in the smell of coffee and cologne and sweat. “I want you when you’re bitchy, when you’re petty and shallow, and when you act like a jerk. I know you, and I want you.”
Adam’s arms wrap around him, one of his hands landing on the back of his neck to pull him in even tighter. Adam nuzzles his neck and whispers into his ear. “I want you when you’re bitchy, too.”
Kris laughs into his shirt and holds on tight.
-
Kris turns off the faucet and stares at his own face looking back at him from the mirror. He looks tired, which should be no surprise, considering that it’s now morning and he hasn’t yet slept, but he knows the redness of his eyes is not only due to that. He didn’t think he’d want to cry so badly after everything worked out. The tears that keep threatening to fall-they don’t even feel like happy tears. It feels like the tension and the misery of the past month are trying to bleed out of him now through his eyes, and it hurts to keep them inside.
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He tells himself to turn off the light and go back to the bedroom-where Adam is waiting for him. But his feet stay rooted where he is, and his hands grip the counter in a white-knuckled grip. What if he can’t do it? What if he’s horrible at it? What if-
“Hey,” Adam says, wrapping his arms around Kris’ waist from behind. “You done?”
Kris opens his eyes and studies Adam’s face in the mirror. He takes in the redness of his eyes, the freckles and the pockmarks on his skin, his slightly chapped lips; Adam stares back and the look in his eyes is the softest Kris has ever seen.
“We can just sleep,” Adam says, turning his face to rest his lips on Kris’ neck.
Kris sighs and tilts his head to give him better access.
“Or we can make out,” Adam offers, kissing up Kris’ neck and nuzzling the back of his ear. One of his hands rests on Kris’ stomach under his shirt; Kris places his on top of it.
“Or,” Adam says, rubbing his nose in Kris’ hair. “I can teach you a thing or two, and we’ll see what you like best.” The hand on his stomach moves up to his chest. Its weight makes Kris realize how hard he’s breathing.
“No pressure,” Adam whispers in his ear, dropping another soft kiss there.
Kris turns his face, his lips wordlessly searching for Adam’s. They land on Adam’s chin first, and then his cheek, before they finally find his mouth. Kris hears himself make a desperate sound at the contact, and it breaks the spell for him, giving him the strength to pull away from Adam’s arms and turn around to face him, grab his face-his perfect, imperfect face-and kiss him and kiss him and kiss him.
When Kris draws back, there is no question whether they’re having sex or not. It’s not like he’s going to be able to stop touching Adam now that he’s started. He leans in to give Adam one last lingering kiss, butterflies dancing in his stomach at the smell and texture of Adam’s skin, then he turns off the light, and pulls Adam into the bedroom.
-
“Teach me,” he tells Adam, and tastes the freckles on his lips.
Author: Jerakeen
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Rating: PG-13
Length: 6,060 words
Disclaimer: Not real. Title is from the song I Can’t Make You Love Me (cover) by Adam Lambert.
Warnings: Cliché. Sap. I wrote this a couple billion times before. Self-indulgence at its best!
Notes: Written for holland who won my offer for a 1,000+ word ficlet at the ontd_ai charity auction.
Beta by minglingcrab.
Summary: Kris’ love life has never been very eventful.
Kris wants to be at home. He wants to be at home so badly, he can almost taste the chocolate cake he’d meant to bake tonight; it was going to be half-burnt, since that’s inevitable with his baking skills, but Kris would have preferred it to the overwhelmingly metallic taste in his mouth right now. It’s the acid green shots Megan has been handing him all night. They tasted like apples going down, but now, they’re beginning to show their true colors.
He tries to wash the lingering taste away with beer, but that only makes him feel even more nauseous.
It’s Anoop’s not-bachelor party, and there was no way out of it for Kris. The club Matt has brought them to-though thankfully not a strip club-is not his scene; he doesn’t want to dance, or listen to the amusing stories of Adam’s sexual escapades, or be cheerful and lively, because for once he is just not in the mood. If he didn’t think it would make him sound like a petulant teenager, he’d just tell the guys that; but since he’s ‘Kris, the level-headed guy’-and they’re all busy in the back booth right now, laughing hysterically at yet another one of Adam’s stories-he doesn’t. Instead, he hides out at the bar and tries to act like a well-adjusted-and certainly not depressed-human being, one who is very happy for his friend.
He works especially hard on his happy-for-his-friend face.
Kris is not happy for Anoop. He thinks it’s a mistake to marry so early in a relationship. After all, his and Katy’s marriage failed after almost a decade of being together; how is a three-month-old relationship supposed to survive? But it’s none of his business, so he keeps his mouth shut. Besides, Kris knows himself well enough to know that these thoughts originate at least in part from his own bitterness; he wouldn’t be feeling this pessimistic if not for his own failure of a love life.
But there’s no helping it; his love life is at an all time low, he is bitter and angry and hurt, and he is obviously not ready to be back among real people again. He’d been doing so well at home-where meeting Adam again was just an idea, and not an actual fact. It was vague and comfortable and always in the future. Kris misses the idea.
Kris’ love life has never been very eventful, but he’d say it was satisfying. He’s slept with two people before, both women, and has kissed a grand total of four people in his whole life-none of whom were Adam Lambert. He doesn’t know what it says about him that he resents that fact.
He’d meant to kiss Adam-more than a month ago now. He’d thought about it, and was all ready for it - but Adam took a step backward and stared at him with panic and horror, and now Kris is pretty sure that he will never, ever again try to kiss anyone who isn’t throwing themselves at his lips, because he has no words-still!-to describe how horrifying and humiliating and painful that moment was. The actual rejection, when it came, didn’t hit him half as hard, probably because he was already numb in all the places that counted; but the words did stay with him afterwards in mostly nonsensical, weird chunks - we can’t, you don’t know, see other people, other guys… Kris knows-he knows Adam so well-that Adam is full of shit sometimes, but he also knows Adam never means to hurt, least of all hurt him, and his heart is in the right place. So even though Kris doesn’t take whatever he can remember of Adam’s words to heart, he forgives Adam-for the most part-for hurting him by hiding behind them.
It’s been 41 days since he tried to kiss Adam and got the rejection of his life, 45 days since his divorce was finalized, and 93 days since he finally agreed that there was no way to save his marriage. Kris downs almost half of his beer in one go and thinks that, considering all that, he’s actually holding up pretty well.
-
Kris is trying to not watch Adam dance when a guy takes the stool next to his and offers him a pleasant smile. Kris finds himself smiling back, because the guy seems friendly and nonthreatening, and those are qualities Kris appreciates and would like to have in his life right now.
“I’m Tom,” the guy introduces himself, holding out a hand. It’s an unnecessarily formal introduction at a club where people meet and practically have sex on the dance floor; it makes Kris smile wider and shake Tom’s hand, forgetting his own woes and really paying attention for a moment.
Tom is tall and kind of geeky-looking. With his sneakers and grey t-shirt, he looks as out of place in the club as Kris feels. He’s a handsome guy, dark blond hair and solid build, but there’s a hesitant, shy air about him that puts Kris instantly at ease. Kris has nothing against confident people, but the last thing he needs right now is to be hit on by some guy who reminds him of Adam in any way. So even though he has no intention of hooking up with anyone-despite Adam’s advice to the contrary-Kris finds himself smiling at Tom and striking up a conversation, because he figures why the hell not? The studio won’t leave him alone forever. He can only hide for so long. He needs to get on with his life, try and move on in his own way. And this is a good opportunity-baby steps.
Tom stammers a little at first, flustered under Kris’ attention. He is a fan, though thankfully not the ‘oh my gosh, I’m so in love with you’ kind. He says he plays a little himself-wanted to be a rock star once upon a time, he admits to Kris with a slight blush. But it didn’t work out; half his band got married and had kids, and the other half gave up on the dream. He likes Kris’ success story, because it makes him think of what might have been, which is something Kris completely understands. He’s looking at Tom himself, and thinking what might have been.
They talk about Kris’ last album, because music is something they both feel comfortable discussing, and Kris finds himself scooting closer to hear Tom better.
“My favorite song from the album is Wildest Moments.”
Kris stares, the hand holding his beer frozen in the air.
Tom rushes to explain, misunderstanding Kris’ reaction. “I…I know it wasn’t the most popular song, but…”
“No, no,” Kris says, shaking himself awake. “It’s my favorite, too.”
Kris smiles. Tom smiles back at him, looking away quickly when the moment lasts too long, and playing with the label on the beer bottle in front of him. Kris thinks he would look exactly like that if he were trying to pick up a guy he liked; it’s surprisingly endearing.
“It was never going to be a popular song. It was too personal.”
Tom doesn’t ask, but Kris tells him anyway.
“It was about my marriage falling apart.”
Kris has never really come out and told anyone that before. It’s a melancholy song, kind of sad even, but the lyrics aren’t really specific, and Kris doesn’t think people can tell exactly what it’s about. Maybe Adam could, but he’s always steered clear of the issue of Kris’ marital problems, so Kris can’t be sure if he didn’t know or just never said anything.
“My friends and I, we get together every few weeks and hang out and jam a little, but it’s not enough, you know? So I have some gear at home that I fool around with-at night when I can’t sleep, or when I’m not hanging out with friends from work who ditch me in weird clubs.”
Kris chuckles at the face Tom makes.
“I mean, I don’t really write songs anymore, but I still work on some stuff, do some recording once every blue moon.” Tom offers a hesitant smile. “I did an arrangement of Wildest Moments on piano a while back. Slowed it down a little, tried to give it a more jazzy feel.”
“I’d love to hear that,” Kris says, and not even out of politeness. He misses nothing-but-a-hobby musicians; they’re really honest in a way that gets lost when you start making money. It begins to get tainted; bit by bit, the music gets taken over by practical things like sales and image.
“It’s not much,” Tom says, urgently. He sounds both excited and worried. “It doesn’t have vocals; I don’t sing. And that song-seriously man, I’m not trying to suck up or anything, but that song has great lyrics. I really do think it’s your best.”
“Thank you,” Kris nods. He has learned to take compliments since he won Idol, both genuine and fake ones, and Tom’s sound pretty genuine to him. “Maybe we should add vocals to it,” he suggests, bolder than even alcohol would normally make him.
Tom’s eyes open wide with shock. “You would do that? Really?”
Kris grins. It’s easy to be bold when there’s no risk of rejection. But there’s nothing wrong with easy; Kris needs a little easy in his life right now. “Sure. Anytime.”
Tom grins back at him. And that’s when the not-so-easy part of Kris’ life chooses to intervene.
-
Allison hugs him from behind and places her chin on his shoulder. “Kris. You’re supposed to dance with me. You promised.”
Kris smiles; he can’t not smile at Allison. “I did no such thing.”
He can’t see it, but he is pretty sure Allison is pouting. “Okay, maybe not promised,” she backtracks, “but it was definitely implied.”
“It doesn’t count when you’re the one doing the implying.”
Allison heaves a sigh. “Does your friend dance?”
Kris looks over at Tom, who shakes his head with a good-natured smile. “You’re out of luck,” Kris says.
“You’re leaving me no choice but to dance with Adam all night, Kris, and if I die of exhaustion trying to keep up with him, it’ll be all your fault.”
Kris stiffens at the mention of Adam’s name, but doesn’t think Allison notices. She pulls back and turns around, already dancing where she’s standing.
“Lambert!” she yells at the crowd, getting an indistinct answer from Adam, followed by a loud laugh.
Kris turns his head around to look and sees Adam making his way through the dancing mob-smiling and sweaty, hair slightly mussed, his jacket absent and his shirt buttons undone halfway down his chest. Kris makes himself look away and take deep breaths. This is the drawback of falling for the sexiest guy in existence; you can’t get over the image, even if you can somehow get over the person.
“You bellowed, milady?” Adam asks, grabbing Allison’s hand and twirling her around. Kris’ heart beats violently in his chest, almost like it’s trying to reach out to Adam, but Kris grits his teeth and tells it to quit it. He refuses to be that pathetic, even in the privacy of his own heart.
“…and Kris likes his new friend more than he likes me, I think,” Kris hears Allison say when he focuses back on the conversation. Adam looks at Kris and then at Tom and then back at Kris, his gaze suddenly serious and calculating; not at all like Allison, who is obviously drunk and joking.
“Adam Lambert,” he introduces himself to Tom, standing tall, his slouch and loose limbs suddenly gone without a trace.
Tom shakes his hand, slightly confused, saying, “I’m Tom. And I know who you are.” Kris notices with unexpected pleasure that Tom is not that nervous about meeting Adam-certainly not half as nervous as he was about Kris. The thought makes Kris beam at Tom stupidly.
Allison is trying to pull Adam towards the dance floor, but Adam ignores her and takes a step closer to Kris. He puts a hand on Kris’ waist and leans in close-closer than is strictly necessary; closer than Kris thinks he normally would. “Are you sure you don’t wanna dance?”
Kris blinks at him, thinking for a moment that maybe Adam somehow got the impression that Kris needs to be rescued from Tom, mistaking him for a stalker fan. But no, the look in Adam’s eyes is one Kris has seen before, though never in regards to Kris. Adam is in full asshole mode, everything warm and honest about him hidden behind a smiling mask. He looks dangerous and cold like a shark. Kris recoils from his touch.
“Yes, I’m sure,” he makes himself say.
Adam rolls his eyes and shrugs. He lets Allison pull him away and they get lost in the crowd.
It takes Kris a good five minutes to unclench his jaw.
-
Tom is observant and understanding and very, very interested.
Afterwards, it takes them a while to get back to the easy conversation they’d had going, but they manage, and eventually find themselves talking and joking, about cars of all things-which neither of them know anything about-and as they wait for their fresh drinks, Tom puts a hand on Kris’ arm and says, “I don’t know a lot about you, obviously, and I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings, because you’re really, surprisingly nice in person, so I just wanna say, even though I have been kind of hitting on you-though possibly very badly-if you have someone in your life, or if you’re not interested in guys, or if you’re not interested in me, I’d still very much like to get to know you better.” His cheeks are pink, but he holds Kris’ gaze, looking sober and solemn. “I could use a friend like you. And not just because you’re Kris Allen.”
Kris thinks about taking the out-he can use a friend like Tom-but then decides against it. There’s a glimmer of attraction here, and he can use that even more right now.
He shakes his head. “I don’t have anyone in my life.”
“To be honest, that’s not what it looked like,” Tom says, motioning towards the dance floor.
Kris takes a long swig from his fourth (maybe fifth?) beer. “Looks can be deceiving.”
-
It’s almost midnight and Kris is considering his options for the end of the night. Should he give Tom his number and just leave? Should he invite him home? Should he go to Tom’s place?
It’s not like he’s ever done this before.
“Kris!” Adam plants a kiss on Kris’ cheek, loud and fake, and wraps an arm around his shoulders. “You coming back to the table?”
Kris’ muscles clench, all at once. He looks over at Tom, who is politely looking away.
“Thinking about heading out actually,” he says, and wonders at how normal his voice comes out.
It’s Adam’s turn to tense. “So soon?”
“Yeah, Tom and I, we were thinking about working on a song tonight.”
Tom hides his surprise well, though he does spare Kris a look that asks where exactly he is going with this. Kris would answer if he knew.
Kris gets up from his stool and shakes Adam’s arm off. “I should say good night to the guys,” he says to Tom. “I’ll meet you outside in a second, okay?”
“Sure,” Tom says, giving Adam a wary look, and grabbing his jacket to head out.
Kris takes another step away from Adam; he’ll go and say his goodbyes, and then figure out what to do about Tom, though something inside him says that he’s going to do exactly as he told Adam. He doesn’t want the night to end like this. Like washing away the taste of the apple shots with the beer, he wants to wash away the bitter taste Adam left in his mouth with Tom, maybe even literally.
Adam, as always, seems to have other plans. He grabs Kris’ arm in a vice-like grip and turns him around. “You are not going home with that guy.”
Kris crosses his arms over his chest, and reminds himself that he is against violence. “Really.”
Adam looks angry, as if he has the right. “You don’t even know him.”
“How exactly is that your business?”
The raised eyebrow seems mocking, but the way Adam licks his lips betrays his nervousness. “I’m your friend.”
“And so is Tom.”
Adam smirks at him, the twist of his lips infuriating and ugly. “Oh, he’s shooting for more than your friendship.”
Kris doesn’t even have to think about the answer. “I know.”
Adam literally takes a step back at that. Kris shouldn’t be surprised at his reaction; he always did think Kris was completely clueless. “Really? Wow. Didn’t know that was your style.”
Kris shakes his head. “Is this conversation going somewhere? Because I’m supposed to be-”
“Meeting your fuck buddy?”
Adam’s face and tone have been going between best friend and complete asshole all night, but the way he sneers the words fuck buddy makes Kris finally lose his cool.
“What the hell is your problem?”
“I don’t have a problem.” Adam shrugs and purses his lips. “I just don’t like the guy. I think you’re drunk and you’re doing something you’ll regret.”
Kris shakes his head impatiently. He hates that he can see through Adam’s bullshit. “You don’t get to say no to this. This has nothing to do with you.”
Adam’s eyes go soft, and that makes Kris even angrier.
“You know it does.”
Kris thinks about elephants and how he is not good at ignoring them. It happened; they might as well acknowledge it-especially since Adam is acting like a jerk over it. “You said no when I asked you, and that’s fine, I’ll get over it, but you don’t get to pick and choose who I sleep with now.”
“As a friend-”
“No,” Kris cuts him off sharply. “Not as a friend, not as anything. This is mine to decide. Besides, you were the one who said I wasn’t experienced enough.”
Adam’s gaze locks onto Kris’; he doesn’t look at all drunk now. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Of course not,” Kris nods. “You just meant that I didn’t know what I was talking about. Well, I’m about to find out. Tom seems eager to help me out with that.”
“Bet he is,” Adam mumbles.
“He’s interested, and attractive, and he’s a musician.”
Adam rolls his eyes and snorts, his face losing every genuine line. Kris knows that Adam is capable of being cruel and fake and cold, but he never is with Kris, and this, now, feels like the biggest betrayal of all. “I’d hardly call that attractive,” Adam says, and even his tone sounds fake. “And did you see his feet? That’s not a myth, you know. I’m sorry to tell you, but I’m pretty sure he has a small dick.”
Kris feels his blood boil and his heart freeze all at once.
“That’ll make things easier for my first time then, won’t it?”
They stare at each other, Adam’s mask finally cracked, Kris’ chest heaving with anger. Kris thinks maybe Adam would apologize if he gives him the chance now, but he is not in a giving mood.
“Tell the guys I said goodbye,” he says and leaves without another word.
-
It’s past 4:00 AM when Kris makes it home. He waves hello to Woody, who tips his hat at him, steps into the elevator, and presses 6. He takes his jacket off and stretches his arms as the cab makes its way up to his floor steadily, and steps out when the doors open with a ding. He has his keys in his hand when he looks up and freezes in the middle of the hallway.
Adam is sitting on the floor in front of his door, elbows resting on his knees, looking tired and creased, much like his jacket, hanging from the door handle. Kris makes his legs move, and as he gets closer, he can see Adam rearranging his face from tired to inscrutable. Kris isn’t particularly worried about reading him though; neither of them is angry anymore. They never can stay angry at each other.
Adam steps aside as Kris unlocks the door.
“Woody would have opened the door for you if you’d asked.”
“I know,” Adam says. His voice is scratchy, like an old record. “He offered. I didn’t think it’d be right.”
Kris isn’t surprised. Adam is thoughtful like that-at least when he isn’t acting like a complete ass.
They step inside; Kris drops his keys on the side table, and throws his jacket on the armchair that he never uses-it’s there as proof that letting other people decorate your home is always a mistake. Then he turns around and stares at Adam. He is too tired to talk around the issue right now. Whatever Adam feels like saying, Kris just wants him to spit it out and leave him to sleep.
Adam fidgets, pulling down the sleeves of his shirt nervously. Kris tries not to stare at his arms.
“I…wanted to apologize.”
Kris nods. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry,” Adam says, sounding sincere, if a little distant. “I was a jerk. I had no right to say those things and act the way I did. You didn’t deserve that.”
“Okay,” Kris says again. “Apology accepted.”
Adam looks up to meet his eyes; Kris almost sighs with relief to see that it’s his friend and not a stranger staring back at him. They’ll get through this one, too, as long as Adam stays Adam, the Adam Kris met and spent months stuck in a room with, the warm and honest guy-and not the evil twin with the sarcastic, mocking smile.
“Now let’s hear it with your own words,” Kris says, surprising even himself. This isn’t the way to avoid dragging it out.
“What?”
“That felt rehearsed,” Kris says, then hazards a guess. “Who came up with it? Neil?”
Adam cracks a smile. “Mom,” he admits.
“Right,” Kris says. Of course it was Leila. “Now tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I was out of line,” Adam says. “I screwed up.”
Kris nods. “It happens.”
Adam shakes his head, looking around the room as if he’s searching for a way out. “It doesn’t. At least it shouldn’t. Not with us.”
Kris shrugs and offers him a small smile. “Don’t sweat it, man. I was the one who screwed with the balance. I get that it’ll take time to readjust.”
Adam opens his mouth to protest, but Kris stops him.
“You want something to drink? I need some water.”
-
Kris gets himself a bottle of water from his too-large-to-exist fridge, and throws another to Adam, who is standing next to the door, obviously not sure of his welcome. Kris doesn’t want to mess with whatever self-punishment thing Adam has going on, but that is just ridiculous.
“Sit,” he says, pointing to a chair, and busies himself with the coffeemaker. He takes the second chair once he manages to get the coffee going. “How’s your mom?”
“Good. Sleepless, because of me.”
They share a smile.
“You didn’t screw anything up,” Adam says, suddenly back to serious. “You just. You said what was in your mind. I was the one that screwed things up. Last month. And again, tonight.”
Kris doesn’t comment. It is sort of true.
“So, um.” Adam clears his throat. “How was your night?”
Kris stares at him, watches him look everywhere but at Kris. “I don’t think,” Kris says slowly, watching Adam’s face carefully for reactions, “we’re at that point where we can discuss my sex life.” And there, a slight twitch, a wince almost, at the mention of Kris’ sex life.
It’s like a puzzle, the way Adam has been acting tonight. Kris thinks he knows what the final picture is going to be, but he wouldn’t even dare to voice it out loud without more pieces fitting together. He’s had enough disappointments involving Adam to last him a lifetime.
“Of course. I just…” Adam looks up, intense and worried. “He didn’t hurt you, right?”
Kris rolls his eyes. “I’m not a kid.”
“I know,” Adam says, but keeps staring, waiting.
“He didn’t hurt me.”
Adam lets out an almost inaudible sigh. “Okay.”
-
Kris watches Adam walk around his kitchen with a pang in his chest. Adam knows where everything is; now that he’s let go of his self-punishment routine, he’s as comfortable as if it’s his own apartment, and Kris likes that. Kris loves that. He wants Adam to stay forever. When put together with what happened tonight, that’s not a very healthy thing. He thinks maybe it would have been better if they’d kept fighting, if Adam hadn’t backed down.
Adam puts a steaming mug of coffee in front of him, and Kris blurts it out. “I think we need space.”
Adam sits down, looking wary. “What kind of space?”
“You’re busy anyway, right? And I’m…doing okay. So I think we should not see each other for a while, let things cool off.”
Kris takes a sip from his too-hot coffee and sneaks a glance at Adam from over his mug; Adam is staring at the table, unmoving. When he looks up, he looks determined. “We don’t need to do that. I’m going to get over myself. It won’t be like tonight.”
“It’s not just about you,” Kris explains. “I can’t-when you’re around, I don’t know if-”
“I promise to be very respectful of your boyfriends,” Adam says, his smile and the joking tone obviously forced. “In fact. Tell me about Tom. We should-I’m your best friend, you should tell me.”
Kris stands up, his chair skittering backwards. “No,” he says, pointing an accusing finger at Adam. “See, I’m not doing that. We’re not acting like nothing happened.”
“But nothing happened.”
Kris stares at him, incredulous. “Maybe for you, yeah. But for me-” He chuckles and runs a hand through his hair. His face feels like it’s flaming. “Space, Adam. I need space.”
Adam doesn’t even get up. “Tell me,” he says.
Kris shakes his head and paces back and forth between the fridge and the table. Talk about it, get it all out in the open, or throw Adam out and not call him for a couple of months; Kris isn’t sure which one makes more sense. Right now, what makes sense to him is grabbing Adam’s face and kissing him until neither of them has any breath left in them, but that’s not an option-not unless he wants yet another rejection.
He stops at the table and braces his hands on it. “What happened is I got divorced. And then I confused our friendship for something else. And now I need time and space to sort it all out.”
There’s a moment’s silence, and then Adam says, “So it was a mistake? What you said-the last time.”
Kris raises his head up and stares at him uncomprehending. “You said it was a mistake.”
“I didn’t-I just said-”
“Oh, no,” Kris laughs, backing away from Adam and the table until his back hits the counter. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to change your mind, or make it so I was the one who misunderstood. I really can’t-”
“No, you didn’t,” Adam interrupts him. “I just…” He takes a deep breath, as if he’s getting ready to dive into a pool. “I loved Brad. I loved him so much; it felt as if I couldn’t breathe without him. And he loved me back. We were crazy in love. But then it didn’t work out. And we had to struggle to find a new balance, a new way of staying in each other’s lives. It took years. We almost didn’t make it.”
He stops and takes a sip from his coffee. Kris waits for him to continue, his heart stuttering in his chest.
“You were safe,” Adam says. “You were married. I thought we’d never have to do this-change things and screw it up and then try and fix it again. I thought we’d be okay, that things would stay the same and we’d have each other no matter what.”
Kris tries to will his heart to calm down. It doesn’t work. He licks his lips and opens his mouth to speak, hoping his voice will come out normal. “So you said no to me, because you thought there was a chance that it wouldn’t work?”
Adam doesn’t answer, and that’s answer enough for Kris.
“In what world does that make sense?” Kris asks, biting out the words with barely contained fury. He doesn’t want to yell; no matter what, he doesn’t want to raise his voice.
Adam doesn’t answer that either.
“So that’s it?” Kris says, throwing his arms up. “You want me to pretend, because you think it might not work between us?” Adam flinches, but doesn’t make a sound. “You want me to sleep with other guys, because-” Kris laughs, he can’t help it, it’s completely ridiculous.
“What do you want me to do?” Adam asks, sounding tired and confused himself.
Kris rubs his eyes, his smile dropping off his face. “I don’t even know anymore.”
-
Kris escapes to the bathroom to wash his face, and when he comes back, he finds Adam still sitting where he left him, staring into his coffee.
“I think you should go.”
Adam doesn’t look at him. He just pushes his coffee away and stands up, checking his pockets for his car keys. Kris follows him to the door, where he starts shivering, his bare toes curling on the floor, even though it’s not cold. Adam doesn’t seem to be feeling anything; he stands stoically, his moves mechanical.
He opens the door, and stands there with his back to Kris. He’s just about to step outside when Kris’ mouth opens without his consent.
“I didn’t sleep with him.”
Adam shuts the door with a loud slam.
“We worked on the song-like I said,” Kris babbles. “We played a little piano, then we recorded the vocals of a new version of Wildest Moments, and it was nice. He made coffee, we talked, and then I walked home.”
Adam turns around to face him. Kris shrugs and looks away, because Adam’s face is frozen in an unreadable expression, and he doesn’t know what to do with that.
“You always had Katy,” Adam says, taking a tentative step closer. “I thought it would be the same now, if you had someone else. I thought I’d feel the same.”
There are at least three more steps between them, but Kris’ breath gets stuck in his throat anyway. “It’s not?” he chokes out.
Adam shakes his head. He runs a hand over his face. “Do you want to know what I did tonight? I went to my mom’s, told her about you and that guy, and I let her baby me, and then I cried, because I didn’t know what else to do.”
It’s Kris that takes a step closer this time. He feels like if maybe they hugged, just once, everything would be okay-Adam wouldn’t feel like crying and Kris wouldn’t feel like destroying something with his hands, and the balance would be restored.
“I love you,” Kris says, and wonders at how easily it comes to him. “I compare every guy I meet to you. I was comparing Katy to you towards the end. I don’t know if it’ll work, but-I don’t want anyone else.”
Adam closes his eyes and turns his face down, hiding his expression from Kris. Kris hopes he isn’t crying-or laughing-or trying to come up with ways to get out of this. He doesn’t have the strength to pick up the pieces if this particular conversation goes to hell, too.
“I will be okay,” Kris lies, “if you’re not-”
“Shut up,” Adam says, looking at him with a soft, worried smile. He takes one last step to close the distance between them. His hand trembles as it reaches out to touch Kris’. Kris bites his lip until he tastes blood, but doesn’t move an inch.
Looking down at their joined hands, Adam shakes his head. “I don’t know what to do with you.”
Kris chuckles nervously.
“Promise me something,” Adam says, giving his fingers a squeeze. “If it turns out that this isn’t what you want, that I’m not what you want-promise me you won’t hate me.”
Kris lets his head fall forward and hides his face in Adam’s shoulder, breathing in the smell of coffee and cologne and sweat. “I want you when you’re bitchy, when you’re petty and shallow, and when you act like a jerk. I know you, and I want you.”
Adam’s arms wrap around him, one of his hands landing on the back of his neck to pull him in even tighter. Adam nuzzles his neck and whispers into his ear. “I want you when you’re bitchy, too.”
Kris laughs into his shirt and holds on tight.
-
Kris turns off the faucet and stares at his own face looking back at him from the mirror. He looks tired, which should be no surprise, considering that it’s now morning and he hasn’t yet slept, but he knows the redness of his eyes is not only due to that. He didn’t think he’d want to cry so badly after everything worked out. The tears that keep threatening to fall-they don’t even feel like happy tears. It feels like the tension and the misery of the past month are trying to bleed out of him now through his eyes, and it hurts to keep them inside.
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He tells himself to turn off the light and go back to the bedroom-where Adam is waiting for him. But his feet stay rooted where he is, and his hands grip the counter in a white-knuckled grip. What if he can’t do it? What if he’s horrible at it? What if-
“Hey,” Adam says, wrapping his arms around Kris’ waist from behind. “You done?”
Kris opens his eyes and studies Adam’s face in the mirror. He takes in the redness of his eyes, the freckles and the pockmarks on his skin, his slightly chapped lips; Adam stares back and the look in his eyes is the softest Kris has ever seen.
“We can just sleep,” Adam says, turning his face to rest his lips on Kris’ neck.
Kris sighs and tilts his head to give him better access.
“Or we can make out,” Adam offers, kissing up Kris’ neck and nuzzling the back of his ear. One of his hands rests on Kris’ stomach under his shirt; Kris places his on top of it.
“Or,” Adam says, rubbing his nose in Kris’ hair. “I can teach you a thing or two, and we’ll see what you like best.” The hand on his stomach moves up to his chest. Its weight makes Kris realize how hard he’s breathing.
“No pressure,” Adam whispers in his ear, dropping another soft kiss there.
Kris turns his face, his lips wordlessly searching for Adam’s. They land on Adam’s chin first, and then his cheek, before they finally find his mouth. Kris hears himself make a desperate sound at the contact, and it breaks the spell for him, giving him the strength to pull away from Adam’s arms and turn around to face him, grab his face-his perfect, imperfect face-and kiss him and kiss him and kiss him.
When Kris draws back, there is no question whether they’re having sex or not. It’s not like he’s going to be able to stop touching Adam now that he’s started. He leans in to give Adam one last lingering kiss, butterflies dancing in his stomach at the smell and texture of Adam’s skin, then he turns off the light, and pulls Adam into the bedroom.
-
“Teach me,” he tells Adam, and tastes the freckles on his lips.