Pairing: Kris Allen/Adam Lambert
Summary: In which there could stand to be a little less conversation, a little more action.
Warnings/Notes: Infidelity. ...I think that's it. And if you got here by Googling yourself or someone you know please hit that back button right the goddamn hell now. Or at least never let me know you were here. anandrine betaed this for me (ilu, bb!) so all remaining stupid mistakes are my own. The title belongs to Allen Ginsburg.
They decide to room together because both of them see the way Matt and Mike are dumping their shit out of their suitcases, look at each other, and make tracks for the empty double.
“I won’t say I’ve never wanted to shack up with a roughneck, but that thought never included his dirty laundry.” Adam leans in and comments sotto-voice as they walk away.
Kris has to slap his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing loud enough for Mike to hear.
Frankly, Kris is glad to have an excuse to room with Adam. The guy is funny, and probably the one least likely to completely lose his shit at some point. He remembers the indeterminable periods of waiting while the judges whittled them down and how Adam never looked like he was going to barf or cry or both, he’d just told theater stories and let the girls lean on him.
There’s unpacking and meetings and more meeting and the handing out of schedules, then it’s just after dark and everyone’s exhausted but unwilling to admit it. They pile into the living room with the biggest TV and finally decided on a movie – mostly because half of them gave up and went to bed - and Kris excuses himself clumsily, stepping on Megan’s toes and having to pry an already fading Matt off his shoulder. Adam had ducked up to their room while everyone was still arguing choices and Kris doesn’t want it to look like they’re leaving him out. Kris suspects friends will be very valuable the longer this goes on.
The mansion is discomfortingly unfamiliar in the twilight, and Kris follows the muffled noises and humming to the half-open door of their bathroom. Some of the manners his wife tries to teach him have stuck, and he knocks before pushing the door the rest of the way open.
Adam is shirtless and barefoot, leaning hipshot against the counter and wincing as he removes one of the gauges from his ear and drops it in a cap of peroxide. The line of frosted lightbulbs above the mirror casts long shadows down Adam’s back that pool at the top of his ass where his jeans gape away. The freckles Adam is always covering are stark across his pale shoulders and camouflaged by the tan on his arms. Kris hasn’t really seen the freckles on Adam’s face before: the lack of makeup makes him look even more naked than the lack of shirt.
The sudden lack of motion catches Kris’ attention and he jerks his eyes up to meet Adam’s in the mirror. Adam regards Kris inscrutably for a minute, removing the earring in his other ear without breaking their reflected eye contact. Kris feels the back of his neck getting hot.
Finally, Adam looks away and steps back from the counter, running a hand through his hair. Kris tries to look somewhere that isn’t the reflection of Adam’s chest and belly. He’s not successful.
“I’ll be done in a minute if you need in here.”
And that’s definitely a dismissal. Kris tries to find where he put his voice.
“Yeah, great. We finally decided on a movie, if you want to come down.”
Adam smiles at him, so Kris figures he sounded at least passably normal, nods and tries to flee as casually as possible. He settles back in on the couch and tries and fails not to think about how long it’s been since he saw someone besides his wife like that, stripped down and vulnerable in his room (their room) and how very, utterly different Adam is from her.
Kris feels mostly normal by the time Adam comes downstairs. His arrival gets a sleepy “Hey, you” from Megan, and grunts from everyone else. Adam smiles at Megan and settles down on the floor with her and Mike, using her ass as a pillow, which makes her giggle and the other men grumble about unfairness.
Lil shushes them all sharply, and puts her socked feet on Adam’s belly. In the pale light from the screen Kris sees her wink and Adam mouth “hey momma.”
Kris doesn’t remember the movie, but he remembers Adam’s changing expression in profile, and the cut of hip where his t-shirt rode up.
In hindsight he’ll think this should have been more of a wake-up call than it was at the time.
It takes maybe ten minutes for them to figure out what’s going when Adam gets pulled out of rehearsal with no explanation. Megan has this way of knowing everything – Kris used to call it ‘constant eavesdropping’ but Megan hits pretty hard. No one’s happy. Mike keeps muttering about it being unfair and Danny looks uneasy, the girls just look pissed.
Adam’s not there when they all get back to the mansion and that makes them all restless. Megan pulls up the pictures on her laptop and shows them – and tells Scott - shrugging nervously.
“He didn’t seem to mind showing them to me. He was telling me about Burning Man.”
Kris wishes he hadn’t looked. He knew, theoretically, that Adam kissed boys, but it’s an entirely different thing to see it. When he closes his eyes he sees the wet shine of their mouths, the other boy’s stubble, and how Adam’s hand looked on his throat. The island of chipped black polish on his fingernail. Maybe that’s why he’s still awake when Adam gets back.
He looks awful, pale and tired and angry at everything. There’s some redness around his eyes like he’s been crying, or trying not to for a while. Adam doesn’t say anything or look at him, just drops his jacket on the bed and makes a beeline for the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Kris hears water running and other noises that cohabitation makes familiar.
When Adam comes out his face is scrubbed and his hair is damp and tousled, he’s left his jewelry in the bathroom. He drop down on his bed to pull off his boots and finally looks at Kris. Kris almost wishes he hadn’t, it’s a flat, unreadable look that reminds Kris that Adam was an actor before a he was a singer.
“So you know what happened.”
It’s not a question, and that throws Kris.
Adam smiles. Or at least, his mouth twists up. Kris winces.
“No one’s asked me what happened.”
“Um. Megan sho-told us.”
Adam’s bent over, pulling off a boot and he freezes, just for a second. Kris feels like an ass. Adam’s face is smooth when he sits back up, but his eyes are wary.
Kris thinks carefully, this is not something he’s dealt with before. But Adam is his friend and the thick tension in the room is a new an unwelcome thing. He stands up, and things seem to draw up tighter. Adam doesn’t move, but his eyes track Kris as he moves carefully across the floor between their beds. Kris puts a knee up on Adam’s mattress but doesn’t quite dare sit next to him. He touches Adam’s shoulder lightly, briefly, like the little here-I-am touches they’re all learning to use with Scott. The lamplight turns Adam’s eyes the color of gunmetal, and Kris still can’t read anything but that wariness in them. He just wants Adam to stop looking at him like that.
“Are you ok?”
Apparently that was the right thing to say, or close enough to count anyway. The tension eases a little and Adam looks away, letting Kris breathe again.
“For values of ‘ok’ meaning ‘still in the show’, yeah.”
Kris keeps his hand on Adam’s tight shoulder and sits down carefully. He’s not sure how much of Adam’s space he’s allowed in right now.
“And for other values?”
Adam gets even tenser under his hand, spine stiffening. Kris pulls back as far as he can without sliding off the edge of the bed. He’s very aware right now, of how much bigger than him Adam is.
“I’m really fucking sick of values right now.”
Kris’s stomach gives a sick little twist, he feels somehow complicit.
“I’m sorry, Adam, I didn’t mea-“
Adam hold up his hand and Kris nearly swallows his tongue. His polish is chipped all to hell, like Adam’s been picking at it all day, and Kris looks away to a spot on the comforter.
“I know you didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry, this isn’t your fault. It’s been a long day.”
He gives a cracked little laugh at the end and slumps down, looking at Kris over the curve of his shoulder. That awful wariness is still there, but it’s almost a look the old Adam could have given him at the end of a long day. Kris eases a little closer and rests his hand between Adam’s shoulder blades, he feels strung tight as piano wire and Kris rubs a slow circle. Adam closes his eyes and Kris relaxes a little more.
“That’s probably an understatement, I’m thinking.”
The corner of Adam’s mouth quirks wryly.
“Um. You can tell me to fuck off, but if you wanna talk about it…”
Adam opens his eyes and studies Kris sharply through his lashes. Kris’ stomach twists again, and he ignores it. He can feel Adam’s heartbeat through the thin shirt.
“I mean it. We’re buddies, right?”
Something flares in Adam’s eyes at that, and it’s not quite anger, but it’s gone before Kris can react and Adam’s smiling at him, shaky but real.
“Yeah. I guess we are.”
He bumps his shoulder against Kris’ and Kris grins. Adam pulls his feet up onto the bed, settling cross-legged. Kris adjusts himself around the motion, settling his arm around Adam’s shoulders. Adam’s still strung tight, but he leans into it.
“I can’t acknowledge it. The pictures have to come down. If anyone asks I blow it off and don’t speak in specifics, dance around the completely fucking obvious. Don’t say ‘gay,’ don’t say ‘boyfriend’. Don’t say of course I fuck men, you morons, and I look damn good in glitter, thank you very much.”
Kris can’t quite muffle his giggles and Adam grins at him with a little more of his usual spark.
“Most of it was media training. Miles and miles of bullshit…”
Kris speaks occasionally, but mostly he nods and hmms and lets Adam talk until his voice loses its careful enunciation and he gets heavier and heavier on Kris’ shoulder.
Kris wakes up in the morning with the sun in his eyes and his neck killing him. He’s still sprawled sideways across Adam’s bed. There’s a folded note on his chest, in Adam’s spidery handwriting. ‘Thanks. You’re comfy.’ Kris laughs a little to himself and carefully refolds the note on his way to the bathroom.
It’s funny – or will be, in hindsight – but the thing he’s been worrying about so much happens when he’s not thinking about it. Kris’ throat feels raw, and his chest over-stretched, he just wants to use the steam room.
The steamroom is already in use. Adam is sprawled out on one of the benches, white towel bunched up under his head and arm over his eyes. He’s also very, very naked. Kris freezes in the doorway and stares, there’s no excuse for what he’s thinking right now. For what he wants. He knew he was an imperfect human being, he just didn’t know he was this imperfect.
Steam swirls around Kris’ ankles and Adam breaks out in goosebumps.
“In or out, but shut the damn door.” He shifts irritably, and makes no move to cover himself.
Kris shuts the door quietly with himself on the inside. Adam is flushed all over from the heat, and he has freckles absolutely everywhere. He shifts his arm a little and Kris jerks his eyes up to meet Adam’s.
“Oh, ‘s you. What’s up?”
Kris honestly cannot answer him. He can’t think of anything to say that isn’t a request for something he has absolutely no right to ask for. After a few moments the fact that Kris is just staring not responding and generally being a giant freak gets through to Adam and he pulls his arm away from his eyes completely, propping himself up on his elbows.
“If it bothers you that much the showers are that way.”
Adam sounds like the kind of amused he gets when he’s actually annoyed, and he tilts his chin at Kris like a challenge. Kris’ self-control is finite, and it’s a little strange, the way he can feel himself not caring anymore. The steamroom isn’t big, and two steps bring him up next to Adam. Kris sees the look in his eyes, startled but not. As if Adam had expected this, but not now. ‘Makes two of us’ Kris thinks, and leans down to kiss him.
Kris had though it would be stubble that he’d notice as first of all the ways Adam isn’t like anyone else he’s ever kissed, and yeah, he can definitely tell Adam hasn’t shaved today, but there are other things. His mouth is big, so is the hand that settles on the back of Kris’ head. The startled noise Adam makes rumbles around the bottom of his register, and Kris feels it through him.
But he’s just letting Kris kiss him. Frustrated, Kris scrapes his teeth across Adam’s bottom lip, and gets a response. The hand cupping his head tightens until Adam has a fistful of his hair and Kris isn’t in control of this kiss anymore. Adam sits up, pushing him back and turning Kris’ head the way he wants. Adam bites his lower lip sharply and Kris hears and feels him curse softly. Then he’s got Adam’s tongue in his mouth and he stops thinking about all the ways this is different.
Adam eases Kris back and away from him and Kris can help the noise of protest he makes. He opens his mouth to tell Adam not to stop, but the look on Adam’s face stops him.
“Fuck. I’m sorry, Kris. I don’t do this.”
And Kris can’t think of what the hell he means by that, but he can see the darker, hectic flush on Adam’s face and feel the rapid rise and fall of his breathing.
Adam cuts him off with a shake of his head and takes Kris’ hand – which ended up very low on Adam’s belly at some point – and rubs his thumb over Kris’ wedding band.
“I don’t cheat, and I don’t help people lie. I’m sorry.”
And with that Adam slides carefully away from Kris, and leaves him alone.
Adam is nice enough to avoid him for a few days, and subtle enough to get away with it without alerting the rest of the group. But it doesn’t really help. Kris can joke with Adam backstage and admire his gloves with him, but that doesn’t keep him from wondering what those hands might feel like on him, fingers half-covered in leather.
His mind chases itself in circles while Adam keeps a new and careful distance. Kris remembers fingers tight in his hair and the hungry way Adam had kissed him and wonders whose benefit he’s doing it for. Both of them, probably.
Every train of thought comes back to the same place, and after three days he takes the phone up on one of the balconies and calls his wife.
Afterwards he can’t remember how he told her, but he stumbles through it somehow. He tells her it’s not love and it’s not cheap kicks, but more like everything he considered and pushed aside years ago come back a hundredfold. The fascination and thrill and need to know if this thing is a part him too, and when the words stop he waits.
She blows out a slow breath that crackles over the line and Kris shivers.
“Well, I wish I could say I was surprised.”
Kris feels slapped, and wants to protest. For once, he’s smart enough to know he hasn’t got the right.
“I can’t deal with this right now. Not now. Not with you out there and all this Idol stuff going on.” Her voice is sharply no-nonsense. It’s almost exasperated, like when he brings home take out and she’s made reservations.
“So this is what’s going to happen. I want you to. Do whatever it is you think you need to do. And when this is over you are going to come home and we’ll talk about this. Call it a break, call it a vacation, but I can’t do this now.”
Kris thinks this is probably what getting hit by a truck feels like, right before the pain.
“No. Listen to you, you’re making yourself sick. Do whatever, get it out of your system or don’t, but don’t pretend this is a surprise. I’ve known you too long.”
Now she sounds angry with him.
“You hear me?”
“Yes, baby.” It’s automatic, and Kris winces. He feels like maybe he’s lost his right to pet names.
“Good. Now tell me goodbye, you called at a bad time, your momma’s talking me to lunch.” She sounds almost normal, if a little sharp, and Kris doesn’t know whether to be amazed or fear for her sanity.
“Goodbye. I-” This is another thing he’s not sure of his rights to.
“I love you too. Talk to you later.” He voice is suddenly tired, but it sounds genuine, and she hangs up the phone gently.
Kris spends a few hours up there, missing lunch and bowling. Thinking and weighing his weakness against her strength and that if he doesn’t do something about this the next time he falters it probably won’t be with a man who’s moral code is as strict as Adam’s. Also when he thinks about doing this, actually, and not just in the abstract it’s a little terrifying and he trusts Adam.
Eventually it’s too much thinking, and Kris is starting to feel more like a coward than a jerk. Besides, he still has one other person to talk to. So he stands up and brushes off and wanders around the cool, dim mansion until he finds Adam in the kitchen. He’s perched on a stool and finishing up a story that has Allison laughing so hard she nearly tips her sandwich onto the floor.
Adam is leaning over the counter, tipping the edge of her plate back up to safety when he sees Kris come in, and his smile gets a little more camera-ready. Kris feels guilty not so much for kissing Adam as for co-opting him into Kris’ own personal bullshit.
Kris tells them Adam has a phone call, and he’s a terrible liar, so Adam gives him a look but plays along. Allison skips off towards the TV room, already distracted, and Kris feels Adam’s eyes on his back the whole way up the stairs. Kris shuts the door behind them and after a second thought, locks it. Even if they just talk this isn’t something he wants anyone walking in on.
When he turns around Adam is standing there with his hands in his back pockets, eyebrow lifted halfway the way to his hairline, and Kris feels the flush creeping up his neck.
“I’m not. I just don’t-”
Adam nods sharply, and thankfully mostly seems amused and not worried that Kris is going to jump him again. Which, Kris is planning to, but only with permission.
“What is it you wanted to talk about?” Adam sounds a little, maybe, like he doesn’t really want to know. Kris can’t blame him, their lives don’t have a lot of room for extra drama right now.
“I talked to my wife.”
Adam does that thing where instead of flinching he gets very still for a second. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks around the room, at everything but Kris.
“So? Should I be scared?” Adam laughs a little and it sounds as nervous as Kris feels.
Kris smiles a little, because Adam’s not the one with anything to lose here.
“No, no. You’re good.”
Adam just watches him sideways, looking as unsure as Kris has ever seen him. It helps a little, to know that Adam’s not on firm ground here either.
“She uh,” And Kris laughs sharp and nervously. “She gave me permission. Or leeway. While I’m here. It’s, um. Yeah, that’s what she said.”
Adam just stares at Kris in pure shock, maybe it’s the nerves, but Kris almost laughs at him.
“Jesus Christ, Kris. You put your five month-old marriage on break because of one kiss?”
Kris cringes. It really makes him sound like an asshole when you put it like that. He trips over his words answering, because Adam’s starting to look less shocked and more pissed.
“It’s not. It’s really not, and I’m sorry if I’m making it sound like this is your fault. But you’re not. I’ve been.” Kris stops to breathe before frustration renders him completely nonverbal.
“I haven’t ever done this. Kissed a – a guy before. But I think that’s more out of lack of opportunity. It’s always been something that I, I couldn’t deal with. And I kind of have to, and she knows that.”
Adam’s face is inscrutable when he finishes, and Kris feels cold. He prays he hasn’t managed to completely screw this up with both of them.
“So this is experimentation? Just need to get it out of your system? Mid-life crisis come early?” Adam tilts his head, he’s looking at like he’s trying to figure Kris out, and will take him apart if observation doesn’t work.
Kris lets an explosive sigh, “Look, I’m trying to explain here-” but Adam cuts him off.
“No, I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” He smiles sheepishly at Kris shaking his hair out of his eyes.
“Not everyone is born in Cali to liberal parents, I know that. And I’m really not in a position to judge anyone else, so.” Adam drops down onto his bed, and his body language is less guarded than it’s been in days so Kris sits with him, knee to knee.
“You just want to know, huh?” And that analytical look is back, but there aren’t any razors in it this time.
Kris nods, “I think I need to be sure, or this’ll never let me be.”
Adam nods, and there’s understanding in his eyes. Kris feels suddenly lesser, admitting he never had the nerve to even consider this to Adam of all people. He looks down at where their knees are touching and Adam reaches out and cups his jaw, making Kris look at him. It’s pathetic, Kris thinks, the way his body reacts to that little touch but Jesus, Adam’s hands are big.
“Don’t. We’re not born knowing this, ok? You get to fifty and you’re still denying it then we’ll talk about shame.”
Adam’s eyes are warm, and his smile’s a little wry and Kris hadn’t realized how awful he’d been feeling until he didn’t anymore. He shuts his eyes briefly and sighs and it feels like a release, like the room is brighter now.
When he opens his eyes Adam is watching him, clearly has been watching him, slouched back against the headboard with his arms folded and not trying to hide his appreciation anymore. It’s nothing like the look he gives the camera on stage, but it has the same affect.
“So, you want to …experiment. With me, hmm?”
Kris hadn’t realized ‘experiment’ was a dirty word. He swallows carefully.
“That was the main point of all that awkwardness that just happened, yeah. Yeah I do.” He’s grinning too big, and probably looks like an idiot, but Adam’s got this look on his face like he’s got the best secret in the world and it’s infectious.
Adam leans forward casually and Kris mirrors him, this close Kris can see the fine lines around his eyes, the darker ring of grey in the iris.
“Well then, let’s start with basics.”
Adam puts his hand on the back of Kris neck and tilts his head before bringing their mouths together. A gentler manipulation than that day in the steamroom. Adam kisses like he has all the time in the world, not slow, but thorough, his fingers stroking the back of Kris’ neck. It’s soothing enough that Kris doesn’t quite realize how turned on he is until Adam’s other hand strokes up his thigh and the added pressure of the denim over his cock makes Kris gasp.
It makes them both laugh, but Adam doesn’t move his hand.
“I thought you said basics?”
Adam quirks an eyebrow and slips his tongue briefly into Kris’ mouth, which as distractions go is fairly effective.
“Stop me if you haven’t been doing this to yourself for at least ten years.”
Kris tries to say it was eleven years, and he usually takes his pants off first, but his tongue gets tangled halfway through when Adam slides his thumb under the flap of the zipper and presses.
“You know, you’re the one who locked the door, who came and sat on my bed. That was very impudent. I don’t think I buy this protest.”
“I wasn’t protesting. And you’re kind of smug.”
Kris’ voice cracks a little. He thought he’d outgrown through-the-pants handjobs, apparently he was wrong. Adam smiles sunnily at him, still eroding Kris’ coherency with every push of his thumb against the teeth of the zipper.
“Of course I’m smug, I’m very good.”
Kris opens his mouth to protest, but Adam pops the button on his jeans one-handed and slides his hand inside, and Kris swears instead. Really, incredibly, unbearably smug, but very good with his hands. Adam tugs at the waist of his jeans.
“Can we lose these? They’re cramping my style.”
Kris almost want to say no just to assert some kind of control here, but his jeans are bunching up and confining and it really just reminds him of being an awkward teenager having awkward teenage sex. He feels out of his depth enough here without adding that to the mix.
They’ve gotten fairly tangled along the way, so Adam stands and stretches as Kris shoves his jeans down and toes off his shoes and socks. Kris stares, because he’s allowed to now, and because Adam’s pants are hiding even fewer sins than Kris’ did. Adam hooks his thumbs into his belt and smirks, Kris laughs.
“Smug ass. You too. If my pants go, so do yours.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Adam puts a hand on Kris’s shoulder and pushes him back onto the bed. “You’ve seen me naked already, it’s my turn.” And he kisses Kris before he can protest.
Kris isn’t sure when he lost control of a situation he started, but he’s willing to go with it for now. Adam kneels over him, straddling one leg, which sends a spark of confused fear through Kris at first. He’s not used to being the smaller one in this situation. But Adam keeps touching him, almost-chaste through his briefs, dragging his nails up Kris’ stomach and over a nipple, kissing him the whole time.
Kris pushes one hand into Adam’s hair and slides the other around his waist and even that is wildly different. Adam’s hair is almost slippery from being re-dyed, his waist is wide, the curve of his ass solid muscle beneath Kris’ palm.
Adam lets out a muffled little chuckle against Kris’ mouth.
“What’d I do?”
Adam grins and Kris wants him back where he was. There are still a couple of freckles on his lower lip Kris hasn’t licked yet.
“Nothing, it’s just really, really tragic that you’ve never done this before.”
Kris pulls a face, and Adam laughs at him again.
“You know, I like you better when your mouth is busy. You laugh at me a lot less.”
Both of Adam’s eyebrows go up at this, and Kris realizes what he just said.
“Oh, God. I didn’t mean-”
Adam puts his hand over Kris’ mouth, shaking his head, eyes sparkling.
“Nuh-uh. No takebacks, you said it.”
Adam kicks the pillows to the floor, and scoots down at right angles, twists around and pulls a little foil packet from his bedstand. Wondering where and with whom Adam ever planned to need that nearly distracts Kris. Adam kisses Kris’ stomach lightly, just above the line of his briefs, and it makes all of Kris’ skin curl up in nervous anticipation. Kris shuts his eyes when Adam takes the head of his cock into his mouth, but that doesn’t last long, he wants to watch.
Adam doesn’t seem to mind being watched. The corners of his eyes crinkle whenever Kris reacts to something he’s done. And when Kris is getting close, Adam takes Kris’ hand and brings it to his head and squeezes, closing Kris’ hand into his hair. Kris loses a little bit more of his breath at the implication. When he pulls gently Adam’s eyelashes flutter and he moans around Kris’ cock. Kris groans and his hips jerk up too sharply, and Adam moans louder, muffled with Kris’ cock against the back of his throat.
That’s too much, or just enough and Kris comes with a breathless, heartfelt curse, trying to loosen his grip enough to let Adam pull back. Adam strokes him through the aftershocks, and peels off the condom afterwards with considerably more neatness than Kris’ has ever managed. He runs his knuckles across Kris’ belly as he stands.
“Be right back.”
Adam’s voice is just slightly scratchy, which sends a little fission of pleasure up Kris’ spine. He hears Adam in the bathroom, flushing the condom and rinsing his mouth. Kris pulls his underwear up, he feels a little weird being naked in the face of Adam’s poise. If Adam’s t-shirt were longer Kris wouldn’t be able to tell today from two weeks ago. But it isn’t two weeks ago, and Adam’s shirt barely touches the waistband of his pants. He’s obscene just walking across the floor.
Adam kneels on the edge of the bed and Kris reaches out and pulls him closer by the waistband of his pants.
“Are you going to bitch again if I try and take these off?”
“No, I feel sufficiently paid back.”
Adam smirks, and he looks hungry instead of goofy now. He licks his lower lip and Kris’ focus wobbles. He works the zipper down and wishes – for once – that Adam wore his jeans a little looser.
“You sure? I wouldn’t want to be impudent.”
Adam giggles, wobbling dangerously on his knees until he sits back on his heels.
“Oh my god, shut up.”
And he grabs Kris’ hand, yanks his fly open one-handed and pushes Kris’ hand in and oh. Adam is hot and damp and bare under the denim. And it’s not really very different, but the angle is new and it’s strange to do this and get no feedback from his own body.
Adam’s giving him feedback, though, his head is down and there’s an uneven flush spreading down the deep vee of his t-shirt. Kris feels a thrill of something like pride when he realizes that Adam is watching Kris’ hand on his cock. It’s kind of fun, to do this without distraction, and to get to see Adam come apart for once. Kris doesn’t try to make him come, he just tries to make him moan. And Adam lets him, up to a point. Which is okay, Kris figures Adam’s been pretty patient with him so far.
Besides, it’s a whole different thrill when Adam laces his fingers through Kris’, changing the speed and his grip until it’s what Adam wants. He’s noisier than Kris when he comes, and his groan breaks in the middle. He lets Kris’ hand slip out of his grip and Kris, for lack of anything else, wipes it on the comforter. Adam, still catching his breath, glares pointedly. Belatedly, Kris remembers this is Adam’s bed, he makes a ‘sorry’ face. Adam waves him off.
“You earned it.”
Which makes Kris blush again. Adam winks, then looks down at himself and laughs.
“I am going to have to do so much laundry.”
Kris laughs, because yeah, he really is.
“Sorry. I’ll help.”
Adam shakes his head, zipping himself up – one-handed again and Kris is really going to have to get Adam to teach him that little trick.
“Don’t bother, next time I’ll just come all over your bed.”
Which is sort of a cold shock of the best sort, Kris realizes he can do this again. That Adam will probably, he thinks, let Kris do what he wants within this weird arrangement. Adam watches him process, face mildly curious.
“We don’t have to. You can leave it at this, you don’t owe me anything.”
Kris shakes his head quickly, trying to dislodge his thoughts.
“No, I um. I want to. Again. I’m just not used to being able to want that, if you know what I mean.”
Adam smiles and Kris thinks that Adam does know what he means, maybe a little bit better than Kris does.
“Well, want away. Just don’t try and wake me up early on our days off.”
Adam’s eyes are sliding shut and he’s starting to curl up. Kris folds his own arms under his head and waits until Adam’s breathing deepens and evens out before getting up and going to the bathroom. He washes his hands and rubs his wet hands over his face and thinks that he doesn’t look particularly different, like he’s been making out with someone for a while, yeah, and there’s a little bit of stubbleburn, but he just looks like Kris.
Then again, why would he look any different?
Kris retrieves his pants from the floor and hesitates for a minute. Finally, Kris sprawls out on his own bed and watches Adam curl himself into convoluted shapes into his sleep until sleep pulls him down as well.