Pairing: Kris Allen/Adam Lambert
Summary: Delusions and summer flings. Also werewolves.
Warnings: Iffy consent at one point. And though the age difference is not specified it is such that what Adam does to Kris is technically illegal.
Notes: Superpowers!AU. I love these, you guys. They are my chocolate-covered oreo of the fic world. It ended up way longer than I intended and I must give all praise and &hearts _ &hearts faces to anandrine for holding my hand through it. Also, still wanting you to GTFO if you actually know anyone in this fic. Seriously. Please.
Kris doesn’t know why the people who run it insist on calling The Memorial School for Higher Learning a camp. He also doesn’t know who the hell it’s in memory of, but that hardly matters. It’s school. Summer school for freaks. Kris leans his head against the window of the bus and blinks at the bright June sun slipping through the trees.
He sighs and next to him Allison echoes it, curling tighter against his shoulder in sleep. Kris is jealous of her ability to do that in the middle of a crowded bus; he feels sleepy and disconnected from getting up before the sun to catching his flight out. The sweat springing up all along his side is making Kris regret letting her use him as a pillow, though. He always forgets how hot Allison runs until she’s back tagging along with Adam and him like their little personal wildfire. She kind of looks like one now too, with her new hair color.
Kris sighs again, watching the trees blur past. The camp label may have worked when he was twelve but he’s seventeen now and hasn’t bought that for years. Sure, there’s no math, and only very specific sciences and they’ve got woods and a lake and mountains and the dorms are really kind of spacious and nice, but. It’s school. And he’s only gotten out of “normal” school two weeks ago. It’s a little depressing.
Still, it’s against Kris’ nature to stay mad for long, and he has missed his friends. They’re scattered all across the country during the winter, Kris only gets emails and the occasional call, and only Adam contacts him with any regularity. It’s nice, too, to not be a freak for a little while. If Kris never hears an upperclassman call him “fido” again it’ll be too soon.
The noise level on the bus ramps up excitedly as the pale stone walls and wrought iron gate of the Institute come into view. Kris gently shakes Allison awake and she mumbles incomprehensibly at him before sitting upright with a start.
When Allison grins at him, wide and excited, Kris can’t help but return it.
It’s a relief to be off the buses, and Kris takes a deep breath of clean air as he shakes out his limbs and scans the crowd for familiar faces. Allison was the only one on his bus he knew very well at all. Anoop is easy to spot, already with a small group of girls around him. Sarver has an even bigger group, though. It takes Kris a few minutes to spot Danny. He’s either lost all the progress he made last year or is just feeling anti-social because Kris’ eyes keep sliding past the stocky boy, and it makes Kris’ head hurt to try and focus on him.
Kris bites his lip anxiously and stands on his toes – for all the good it does – as he scans the crowd. He doesn’t see his best friend anywhere and his stomach twists anxiously. He’d dismissed it when Adam had made noises over winter about not coming back. Sure, he was older than most of them and his gift wasn’t particularly strong, but they’ve all been coming to the institute for years and Kris assumed that’s how it went. From when you first showed signs of being a freak until you graduated college. Kris likes the other kids well enough but Adam has been his roommate since his first summer here and Kris doesn’t want to contemplate the Institute without Adam.
“Holy shit, is that Lambert?”
Matt’s voice is disbelieving and half-laughing behind Kris and Kris snaps his head around to where Matt is staring.
It takes Kris almost a full minute to recognize Adam, and he only does because Adam turns his head just right and the familiarity of his profile hits Kris in the gut.
When Kris last saw him Adam had been a short-haired, strawberry blond who wasn’t much taller than Kris, childish roundness still clinging to his heavily freckled face. The Adam Kris is gaping at now might as well be an entirely different person. His hair is black, and falls into his eyes with studied casualness. He’s taller too, at least a head above Kris and has managed somehow to get both thinner and broader. His freckles are gone, and Kris realizes that it’s because Adam is wearing makeup other than the usual smudgy black eyeliner. Kris’ delight at finding his friend wavers under nerves; Adam looks like a stranger.
Adam turns towards Kris a little more and breaks out in a delighted smile, leaning down to hug Megan tightly, careful of her wings. Kris’ stomach unknots a little; Adam still smiles the same.
“Damn, it is.”
Anoops’ voice is full of that bored distain he’s thinks makes him sound older and sexier but really just makes him sound snotty, and it grates on Kris’ nerves.
“Guess he decided to look like as much of a freak he is.”
There’s a muted fwomp from beside Kris and he steps back quickly, treading hard on Anoop’s toes. And if he grinds his heel in a little, well, he’s just trying to keep his balance.
“Ow, fuck! Watch it, Kris.”
“Sorry, didn’t notice you.”
Kris smiles as vacant and bland as he can, and Anoop eyes him suspiciously and wanders off, taking Matt with him. Matt shrugs helplessly at him and Kris lets his smile drop. Anoop is pretty much a bitch to everyone lately, but Adam’s got a big mouth, and Kris knows he’s had Matt out behind the library at least three times.
Kris glances down at Allison, who has both hands cupped around a tiny ball of flame she couldn’t keep away, scowling in concentration as she shrinks it down to nothing. When it’s gone she shakes her fingers to cool them and gives Kris an ashamed, frustrated look.
“Thanks, I just hate. It’s. Sorry.”
Kris hugs her, pressing her hot hands between them just to reassure her he’s not scared of her. He remembers how hard it is to control it when you’re mad.
“He deserved it. He’s just lucky Adam didn’t hear him.” The comment works, and Allison giggles against his shoulder, some of the tension leeching out of her.
That had been the first time Kris had seen Adam. Just off the buses for the first time and some kid had singled Adam out as the freak amongst freaks. Kris isn’t sure if it was because Adam was wearing a t-shirt with the cover of Bowie’s Diamond Dogs on it, or because he’d been separated into the smaller group of kids whose powers were classified as psychic as opposed to physical. Probably a bit of both.
The boy next to Adam had flinched at the shout of “hey, faggot!” but Adam had just turned around and asked if the kid was talking to him.
“You see anyone else who looks like a little cocksucker?”
The jeering kid had a narrow, foxy face, and he was big enough that Kris was afraid for Adam, who had apparently never learned to you ignored these kind of guys. Adam had just smirked and slammed the boy back against the side of the bus without moving an inch.
The reaction headache from over-stretching himself had put Adam in the infirmary for the whole day, and confined him to his dorm for three. But the boy he’d shoved had needed six stitches and after that people had kept most their comments about Adam out of his hearing.
Kris had been nervous when a counselor had led Adam into his room and sat him on the bed with instructions to drink water and under no circumstances to use his telekinesis on so much as a dust bunny. Adam had given her a listless thumbs up and curled up on his side. Kris had just stared at Adam, he’d already been nervous about the whole roommate thing, and all he’d known about Adam was what he’d seen.
Adam didn’t look at him until the councilor left. His pale eyes were narrow with pain and Kris had twisted his hands in his lap.
“Hi. I’m Adam. If you don’t want to room with the faggy psychic kid I’m too sore to care. Call the counselor back in if you want.”
“No!” Kris modulated his tone when Adam cringed back and went slightly green. “Sorry, sorry, but, no. I’m not like that. I don’t care. About either thing.”
Relief had smoothed some of the pain away from Adam’s face.
“Oh good. Because I never want to have to do that again.”
Kris smiled at him cautiously. “That was pretty cool, though. The way you did that.” Kris made a broad sweep of his hand, imitating the invisible force that knocked the bully back and Adam grinned thinly.
“I can’t believe it worked. I usually can’t manage anything heavier than a coke can.”
Kris laughed and Adam’s smile got stronger.
“So, what’s your name and why are you here, roommate?”
“Kris Allen. And I, uh. Lycanthropy.”
Kris had felt desperately uncool. Adam could toss bullies around with his mind and Kris was sometimes a household pet. But Adam’s grin widened and it had been excited, not mocking.
“Werewolf, awesome. Very Buffy.” And Kris had smiled back, relieved that at least there had been no dog jokes.
They were quiet for a little while, and it hadn’t been awkward at all. Kris had practically been cheering on the inside. He’d been dreading having to room with a stranger for a whole summer, but he’d thought it might be pretty okay with Adam.
“So, is that your favorite Bowie album?” Kris pointed at Adam’s shirt. The smile Adam given him had been dazzling and Kris thought yeah, this roommate thing wouldn’t be so bad.
Kris is so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice Adam until Allison squeals out a hello and launches herself at the approaching boy.
“Hey girl! Love the hair.” Adam spins her around before setting her on her feet, and Allison’s cheeks go as pink as her hair.
Adam turns his smile on Kris and from this close he looks both more familiar and more like a stranger. Kris squashes hard the urge to touch Adam’s new hair and find out if it feels as glossy as it looks. There’s weird, and then there’s mega weird.
“Hey, roomie.” The dark freckles on Adam’s lower lip are still visible through the makeup, and that’s somehow comforting. Kris grins at his friend.
Adam meets him halfway and nearly pulls Kris up off the ground with his hug. Kris laughs, thumping Adam on the back and learning the new shape of his friend under his arms. Adam still smells the same. The noisy kiss planted on his cheek attracts more than a few stares, but Kris refuses to care if Adam doesn’t. Eventually Adam steps back, holding Kris by the shoulders.
“So, how’s my favorite Oz wannabe?”
Kris rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning.
“Still better looking than you. Have you managed to lift anything heavier than a soda with your weak-ass brain?”
Adam’s smile goes wild and triumphant and he uses his grip on Kris’ shoulders to spin him around.
“Shhh. Watch and learn, puppy.”
Kris elbows Adam in the gut for that, but stays quiet. Adam is leaning over his shoulder and he feels as warm as Allison. He points Kris at the side of the silver bus and for a second nothing happens, then the entire vehicle trembles and Kris sees a tiny flash of daylight between the tires and the driveway before it settles. Allison gasps behind them and Kris grabs at Adam’s arms as he spins around, wide eyed. Last summer doing that would have put Adam in the hospital, if he could even manage it.
Adam looks fine, a little lightheaded but normal and laughing in delight.
“Oh man.” Kris shakes Adam in glee and Allison joins in, practically hanging off Adam’s back.
“When did that happen!?” She asks, her voice cracking in delight.
“Around Christmas break. I lost like, all my control so I can’t undo a shoelace, but I can lift anything smaller than that bus.” Adam is grinning wildly, one arm around Allison, the other still gripping Kris’ shoulder.
Awesome. Hey, hey, lift me! Or Kris!” Allison is literally bouncing.
Adam eyes Kris wickedly, and Kris raises his hands uselessly and steps back. Fortunately for his dignity he steps back into the head telepathy teacher.
“Mr. Seacrest! Hi.” Adam’s smile goes from evil to charming and he reaches out to steady Kris and pull him back.
Ryan regards them all with his calm blue eyes, mouth quirked in a small smile. Kris stands up a little straighter. Ryan’s even shorter than he is, but he’s got that authority and certainty Kris associates both with grownups and power in spades.
“Gentlemen, lady.” Ryan focuses on Adam. “I believe you have some news to share?”
Adam hesitates, and Kris can’t blame him, new development means more classes.
“Unless, of course, our busses have taken to lifting themselves.” Ryan’s voice is dry as dust, a reminder not to insult the psychic by lying to him.
Adam smiles sheepishly. “I, uh. Seem to have reversed myself during the winter.”
Ryan tilts his head encouragingly. He could tell Kris things about himself that Kris probably doesn’t know, but he always makes them tell him. Adam licks his lips, and his face is briefly, brattily annoyed.
“I’d probably destroy your watch if I tried to unfasten it, but I could lift you without breaking a sweat.” Adam’s voice is resigned with the loss of his free time, his hand still heavy and warm on Kris’ shoulder.
Ryan beams at him. “We always suspected you had greater potential than you demonstrated. Congratulations, Adam. Now it’s just a matter of restoring your control.
“Kris, you’re his roommate, correct?” Kris nods. “Would you mind taking Adam’s bags up while I bring him to the office and set up a new class schedule for him?” Kris nods again, chewing the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at how miserable Adam looks as he trails after Ryan.
Allison helps him drag all the bags to the door of the boys dormitory and leaves him on the steps with a brief, strong hug before bolting for her own bags, still back at the buses. Kris is eyeing the pile of bags and wondering how many trips it will take to bring everything up when Sarver wanders past and Kris nearly pounces on him. One quick trip later Kris is thanking god for the superhumanly strong and Mike is waving him off cheerfully and telling Kris to say hi to Adam for him.
Kris dumps Adam’s bags on his bed and drops onto his own, looking around the familiar room. He’s forgotten to bring any DVDs again and eyes Adam’s bags, wondering if it’s worth digging through five bags of skinny jeans and boots to try and find the ones he knows Adam brought.
In the end he decides it’s not worth digging through Adam’s underwear, and just puts on a CD. People stop by to say hi - or ask to borrow things already but Kris learned his lesson about that his first year – and Kris chats with them, but gets more antsy with every hour Adam doesn’t show up.
It’s nearly time to head to the cafeteria for dinner when Adam finally shows up, and Kris’ anxiety twists into worry. Adam looks pale and drawn, and he’s moving with great care, hand on the back of his neck like he thinks his head might come off. Kris jumps off his bed, shoving Adam’s bags to the floor so he can sit down and turning Freddy Mercury down to a background hum. Adam blows him a kiss, black nails against his pale face and Kris’ stomach flips because Adam is still a familiar stranger.
“I knew there was a reason you were my favorite.”
“I’m the only one who will put up with your dramatic ass.”
“That’s a reason.”
Kris punches Adam gently on the shoulder and Adam folds sideways with a wounded face.
“Really, you okay?” Kris gives into temptation and brushes his fingers lightly over Adam’s temple, through his bangs.
“I’m ok.” Adam giggles suddenly. “I destroyed every pen in Cowell’s office trying to take the cap off one. Never did manage to, but I juggled his office furniture all at once, which was pretty cool.”
Kris laughs, picturing the headmaster’s neat office getting ink-spattered and tossed like that. Adam smiles proudly, his eyes sliding shut and from this close Kris can see the purplish circles beneath them under the makeup.
“You look like shit,” Kris swats away the middle finger Adam waves in his face. “I was saying, do you want me to bring you some food back?”
Kris has two years of home schooling behind him because every time he was startled or frustrated or even sneezed too hard he also got fuzzy. He remembers the training and physical therapy and how sometimes at the end of the day his muscles were so sore he felt like he couldn’t hold any shape. Adam had never had a problem with his ability before, and he’d been sympathetic and distracting and fetched food for Kris when he couldn’t bear the thought of dragging himself across campus to the dining hall.
“See, I told you you’re my favorite.” Adam beams at Kris and hugs him, despite the awkward angle that means he’s mostly just hugging Kris’ knee. Kris puts his hand on Adam’s head, pressing his fingers guiltily deep in that new hair and pushes Adam back on the bed.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m the best.”
Kris wavers between bringing back enough food for both of them, and eating with the group, and decides to stay. There’s too much going on in Kris’ head right now for him to want to be alone with Adam. Kris finds a seat between Mike and Danny – the latter of who is thankfully tangible – and lets the conversation wash over him.
By the time he’s headed back to the dorm with a plate of pizza and a coke making a cold spot in his hip pocket it’s dark and Kris is mostly at peace. He’s pretty much adored Adam since that first day, that’s not news. But Adam doesn’t look like Adam anymore, he looks (beautiful) different and it’s just that Kris needs to get used to this new version of his friend.
The lights are off in their room, and Adam is sprawled out in bed, watching Velvet Goldmine for what must be the billionth time. The blue light from the screen softens Adam’s new look into familiarity and the feeling of being home washes over Kris. His voice is softer than he intends when he speaks.
“Hey, lazy ass. Got you pizza.”
Kris tosses Adam the soda, which has left an unpleasant cold, wet spot on his hip, and Adam catches it without taking his eyes off the screen.
“I mentioned I love you, right?”
“Damn right you do. I’m awesome.”
Kris balances the plate on Adam’s stomach and pokes his shoulder until Adam makes room. Kris settles in beside Adam, who tips his head onto Kris’ shoulder and Kris relaxes all over. This is the best kind of familiar, his best friend and this movie and the quiet dark.
The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. The curves of your lips rewrite history.
Curt Wild and Brian Slade hesitate more out of anticipation than nerves, and kiss. Adam sighs almost inaudibly next to him, and Kris shuts his eyes before the flashbulbs intrude on them. He’s always hated that part.
Kris doesn’t like the water much. He can swim ok, but he hates the lightness and not having his feet firmly on the ground. Also, wet fur is a gross feeling, and even if he stays human in the water he remembers it. He’s willing to wade around in the shallows of the big, cold lake, but when a waterfight breaks out he hauls himself onto the dock next to Megan. She smiles at him over the top of her sunglasses, looking lovely and peaceful in her bathing suit and her wings spread in the sun.
Kris gives her a quick, damp hug and borrows the shade she casts, watching the other boys form ranks.
“You like it, huh?”
Kris is distracted. Adam and Mike on the same team means the fight is going to be brutal and one-sided.
“Adam’s new look. You’re always staring. Like, more than usual even.”
Kris glances at her sidelong, but the sunglasses hide everything but her amused smile. He shrugs.
“I’m watching the fight. He’s in it, ‘s kinda unavoidable.”
Megan doesn’t respond, though she flutters a little, kicking up a breeze as she turns and looks out over the water. Kris hopes it’s because he’s managed to gain some skill with lying.
Part of the problem is, Kris thinks, is that Adam looks adult now. He’s not huge like Mike, but it’s there in the width of his shoulders and the lean shape of him down to his hips. Adam shakes his hair out of his eyes, laughing, and sends a wall of water crashing down on Anoop and Danny. Matt blinks out of range just in time and Kris clamps down on a sigh because he’s not actually a teenage girl.
“I like it. His new look. It’s sexy.”
Megan is using that tone of voice that means she’s actually taking about something completely different. She’s still wearing her sunglasses too, so Kris can’t even tell if she’s making fun of him.
“I don’t think your appreciation really counts, Megs.”
Unplanned lust always makes Kris bitchy and he gets buffeted with a wing for his trouble.
“Don’t be an ass. And I always matter.”
Kris keeps his mouth shut, and they both watch the escalating violence in the water. Matt manages to blink in behind Adam and dunk him, but gets tossed a good twenty feet by Mike for his trouble, resurfacing just in time to catch a wave from Adam in the face. Matt comes up red-faced and coughing and the shouting gets more intense.
The other part of the problem is that Kris is probably the only not-quite-straight boy in their age group here who hasn’t had Adam’s hand in his pants, or vise versa. He feels weirdly like he’s betraying some unspoken bond of friendship, wanting this new Adam. Actually wanting, in a way that feels big and a little scary. This sort of thing is usually something he could talk to Adam about, but that’s not really an option. Kris is stuck with hoping it will all go away as he gets used to Adam’s new look.
Kris is so lost in thought he nearly jumps into his other skin when Megan grabs his wrist and speaks, her voice uneasy.
“Kris, maybe you should get someone.”
Kris glances up, and she’s right. Sarver’s glaring in that way that reminds you he can crush brick like frat boys crush beer cans, and Adam is red faced and furious, hands fisted at his sides. He’s shoving Matt under over and over, never letting him get his bearings long enough to get away. Anoop is yelling and Danny is backpedaling, flickering in and out like a bad signal. Kris is on his feet when Mike grabs Adam’s arm and shakes him, speaking close to his ear. Some of the angry tension leaves Adam and he turns away, walking to shore. Matt staggers to his feet and almost follows him, but Mike grabs his arm and says something, face hard. Shame joins the anger and embarrassment on Matt’s face.
“Well, that was friendly.”
Kris makes an absent noise of agreement, watching Adam walk away. He staggers when Megan shoves his leg.
“Oh, go after him. If there’s juicy gossip I want details.”
Kris smiles at her and takes off, pushing down into fur and four legs to catch up with Adam’s head start.
Kris grabs Adam’s shoulder to make him slow down, and because changing fast makes him dizzy. Adam doesn’t say anything or look around, but he slows his pace a little.
“So. Why did you just try to drown Matt?”
Adam’s face gets stormy, but Kris has been dealing with Adam’s flash temper and sulks for years and just bumps his shoulder gently into Adam’s. It works, and Adam puts his wet arm around Kris’ shoulders with a sigh. Putting his arm around Adam’s waist in response is second nature to Kris, and he realizes belatedly that having the skid of wet skin and the flex of muscle under his palm is probably not the best idea when he’s only wearing trunks and left his towel on the dock.
“I’m pretty used to the idea that there’s always going to be some jackass calling me a fag, but when they’re deciding the better part of valor is pretending you’ve never had another guy’s dick in your mouth…”
Kris snorts, partially because Matt is an asshole, and partially because Adam never learns to stay away from summer boys.
“Matt’s a dickhead in denial, got it.”
Adam hugs Kris tighter and tips his chin up to plant a kiss on his cheek. Kris thinks about cold water and the soggy feel of wet fur and Adam not being his friend anymore.
“You’re my little island of sanity, Kris. You comfort me after all the horny, fickle boys break my heart.”
Kris rolls his eyes hugely and leans into Adam until they’re both staggering and laughing. Kris doing his best to ignore how Adam feels sleek and warm against him and how, if he thought for a second Adam wanted him to, Kris would drag Adam back to their room or the hook up spot behind the library and get on his knees for him, just like Matt.
Kris can’t help but be amused at the role reversal. For the first time Adam is the one training for hours a day while Kris is mostly free. Adam is less amused.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Adam is cross-legged on his unmade bed, frowning at the half-unknotted shoelace that is his homework. He’s stopped breaking things for the most part, but small things – like knots – still take him three times as long and leave him twice as exhausted as things that just need brute force. Kris just grins. He had class in the morning and spent the rest of the day hiking, mostly as a wolf, and he feels tired and sun warmed and really, really good. Clear-headed in the way that spending too much time not-quite-human leaves him.
“Smug motherfucker.” Adam comments good naturedly, pitching the shoelace at him. “I should make you go to my ethics class tomorrow, see how happy your ass is after that.”
Adam’s expression goes from bitchy to curious.
“You don’t take ethics here?”
Kris shrugs. Almost all of his classes are physical. Controlling how he changes and controlling himself when he changes and how what he does can be used.
“I bark and shed, not much of an ethical dilemma there.”
Adam snorts delicately, arranges himself on his back and rubs his forehead. “God that’s unfair.”
Kris rolls his eyes at Adam’s whining and tosses the shoelace back at him. “Suck it up, Lambert. What do you need to know about the ethics of throwing shit around anyway?”
Adam doesn’t respond right away, he just looks thoughtful. Kris is caught completely off guard when this invisible thing strokes under his shirt from the back of his neck to the waist of his pants.
Adam waits until Kris is done flailing to speak, and his tone is quiet and pointed.
“Now imagine if that happened on a bus, or in a restaurant. And you had no idea who did it or what they wanted, and no way of stopping them.”
Kris - still reeling from the sheer strangeness - nods gingerly, conceding the point. Adam smiles apologetically at him.
“Sorry, did I freak you out?”
“Not really?” Kris leans back against the wall, trying to press away the memory of that phantom touch. “That just felt really weird.”
Adam props himself up on his elbows. “Really? What’s it feel like?”
“You don’t know?”
Adam shrugs. “I think it’s like how you can’t tickle yourself.”
Kris scrunches up his nose and wiggles his fingers at Adam, “Invisible hands.” And Adam laughs, and shoves Kris gently in the chest a few times while Kris flails at nothing.
That’s not really what it feels like, though. There’s no body warmth or particular shape to the telekinetic touch, texture and temperature-less. Kris rubs his hand over his chest. Adam is still watching him thoughtfully.
“Hey, want to help me out?”
“How? And with what?”
Adam waves the half unraveled shoelace at him. “If I have to undo one more of Seacrest’s Boy Scout knots I’m going to scream. Let me practice on you, just for something different?”
Kris shakes his head at Adam’s pleading face. “I am not letting you toss me around.”
“Not that. Just let me like, undo your watch, or your shirt buttons. Anything but more knots.”
Kris has already decided to help, because it’s Adam and he’s asking, but he can’t resist dragging it out a little.
“You’re just trying to get me naked, aren’t you? That’s kind of sad, Adam. Are you really that desperate? Boys not digging the new look?”
Adam rolls his eyes hugely and Kris laughs as every pillow in the room flies at him.
“You suck. I don’t know why I’m friends with you.”
Adam is laughing, and Kris ducks the pillows still bouncing off his head and knocks Adam back on his bed, trying to get his fingers between them; a tickled Adam is completely helpless. Adam grabs his wrists though - with his hands this time - and shoves Kris over. Kris takes wrestling at regular school, but now Adam is bigger than him and pins him easily, which is totally cheating.
“Weak. You are so lame, Allen. I’m getting a new best friend.”
Kris is starting to have trouble breathing, Adam’s knee is digging into his ribs and he still can’t stop giggling, so there’s only one thing to do, really. A slight head rush, and the feeling of stretching all over and all at once and Kris is the bigger one. Adam yelps, and laughing really doesn’t work with a muzzle, so the noise Kris makes more a happy sort of growl as he rolls over under Adam’s suddenly insignificant weight and grabs him in a bear hug. Wolf hug, whatever.
Kris twists them around and sits up, planting his paws on Adam’s back and letting his weight mash Adam into the mattress. See, how do you like it, Kris thinks, and it comes out a smug sort of grumble. Adam struggles uselessly under him, and Kris lets his wagging tail smack into Adam’s shins, just to drive the point home.
“Bad dog!” Adam’s laughing so hard he can barely get the words out, his face red, “Oh my god you are shedding on my sheets, you ass.” Kris barks in agreement and Adam curses him out lengthily and creatively.
When he’s done swearing Adam’s face is almost purple, so Kris takes pity and moves off him and onto Adam’s sheets. Adam gasps for breath and glares at him.
“I’m making you do all my laundry this week, mutt.”
Worth it, Kris thinks, since today is Wednesday and laundry day is Sunday. The ‘mutt’ comment is what makes him roll onto his back and start rubbing himself on Adam’s sheets, though. Adam shouts and shoves at him and Kris really does enjoy being big enough that it doesn’t matter. Point made, Kris stretches out with a happy sigh, head on Adam’s pillow.
“I hate you so much.” Adam would be more convincing if he could stop giggling, and Kris snuffles at him, eyes narrowed in amusement. Adam smacks one of his ears, then sighs and digs his fingers into Kris’ fur, scratching absently.
“You will help, right? Save me from the boredom of endless shoelaces?”
Kris leans into Adam, smiles a dog’s smile. Of course. But it’s hard to concentrate on what Adam is saying. Words are always harder to parse when he’s like this, and being in Adam’s bed with Adam right next to him is like drowning. Kris’ eyes drift shut as he breathes deeply. Hair gel, sweat, fabric softener, and the scent that’s uniquely Adam. There’s something else too, earthy and a little bitter that makes his tongue itch and Kris breathes that in until realization hits him, and he switches back to human so fast it makes him dizzy.
Adam shouts in triumph and grabs Kris around the waist, dumping him over the side of the bed. Kris can’t even get annoyed at losing the upper hand, he’s too busy gasping in air that smells of nothing in particular and convincing his body that it really shouldn’t follow the dumb, animal-brain advice that says Kris should be holding Adam down and licking him until that smell is everywhere. Adam is a pretty patient friend, but Kris thinks that would probably be over the limit.
Adam leans over the side of the bed, flush and rumpled and glaring at Kris.
“All of my laundry. And you are totally helping me now.”
It becomes an evening routine. They pick a movie and Kris puts on a button-down shirt and his watch, shoes, the cross his mother gave him and lets Adam take it off him. Kris mostly watches the movie, because Adam has to concentrate too hard to be much good for conversation.
Kris feels sort of bad for Adam, who never had much power behind his gift, but enough control to thread a needle. Now it takes him all of Big Fish just to get Kris’ watch, shirt, necklace and sneakers off, and Kris still loses a few buttons. He also barely sees the movie. Adam never used his gift much on Kris before, beyond the random shove or poke so to have Adam’s disconnected touch, that pressure without any presence, fumbling slowly around him for so long is about the most distracting thing Kris has ever experienced.
He gets better, though, and by the end of July Kris has added on a few of Adam’s wrist bands and more necklaces and Adam is still finished with it all by the time Bowie is telling a troll muppet that it reminds him of the babe. Adam grins triumphantly and relaxes, dropping onto his back as Kris’s last necklace floats over to coil neatly on the desk.
“Not quite back to where I was, but better than not even being able to handle a pen.”
Adam sounds equally proud and relieved and Kris grins at him, leaning back against the headboard of his bed.
“I’m sure you have a long career of undressing boys with your mind ahead of you.”
Kris just giggles when the corner of his blanket flips up and slaps him upside the head. It’s too muggy out to get annoyed, thick, dark clouds have been crowding the tops of the trees since mid-morning, and thunder rumbles a distant warning. Kris loves the storms up here; they feel epic. Kris leans over to the window to see if it’s raining yet and a light, ticklish touch races down his spine as his belt starts unbuckling itself. Kris has to grab the windowsill to keep from falling over.
Kris grabs at his belt, which twists in his hands like a live thing as Adam laughs. He pries Kris’ grip off easily and yanks his belt out of its loops, dropping it on the floor. Irritation surges up hard in Kris, because this feels like sex, or just before sex, except it’s just Adam doing what he always does and Kris can’t convince his stupid, treacherous body to stop reacting to it.
Kris pushes himself upright, pulling his legs toward his chest under the guise of cringing in mock-terror from Adam. He’ll be fine as long as Adam doesn’t notice.
“Don’t make fun of my mad skills, Allen, or I’ll make an example of you.”
Adam’s threatening face is maybe the least threatening thing ever, but his words send a chill skittering down Kris’ spine anyway. Hugging his knees tighter hurts and that helps a little.
“Please, I’ve heard all about your examples.” Kris tries for the dismissive tone Adam’s so good at and hits it pretty well, to his surprise.
Adam props himself up on his elbows, eyes narrowed bitchily. Kris glances out the window - which is finally getting spattered with rain - feigning boredom so he doesn’t have to look at the casual sprawl of Adam legs over the side of the bed or the muscular curve of his shoulders as they take his weight.
“Oh, it’s on.”
The touch that expands suddenly in the space between Kris’ knees and stomach, knocking him out of his tight curl is gentle and entirely expected, Kris figures he’ll get beaten with pillows again, or mummified in his own blankets. The wild, shocked noise Kris makes when Adam pops the button on his fly is completely out of his control and embarrassment rushes up hot and painful, because there’s no way Adam won’t notice now.
Adam’s laughter stops, and so does the touch, resting lightly over Kris’ fly. Kris tries to curl up again, to get away and hide and just deal with this when he feels less like he might die of humiliation, and it expands suddenly. Kris hadn’t really realized before now just what being able to lift a bus meant, in regards to Adam. The sharp, panicked noise Kris makes when he realizes he can’t move at all makes Adam withdraw, but not entirely. The touch ghosts over Kris’ chest and ribs, pressing at his wrists and hips like a reminder of restraint.
“Sorry, sorry, I just. I want.”
Adam doesn’t sound sorry, still sprawled on his own bed but gone tense and still. The look on his face is unfamiliar and sharp. Like concentration, only more. He doesn’t look mad. He touches Kris again, slow and sure and Kris can’t help the way his hands jerk up to try and cover his erection, even though he’s still wearing his fucking pants and Adam is touching him under them.
But Adam, thank god, catches his wrists and pins them to the bed. And Kris has to shudder and moan a little at that, because it means it’s not just him any more. That maybe Adam wants this just as badly.
Adam sounds disbelieving and Kris has no idea why. The touch that drags down the insides of his thighs feels nothing like hands but Kris spreads for it anyway and then Adam is holding him down and open there too, which is just about perfect.
So wildly strange to feel this without another body there, just the weight of Adam’s eyes on him from across the room, and it makes Kris feel a little wild. No matter how Kris twists under the restraining pressure the touch on his cock never changes unless Adam wants it to and it’s so frustrating Kris has to bite his tongue to keep from just begging Adam. Begging for what Kris isn’t sure yet, but he thinks he’d figure something out.
But then, finally the friction is good and fast and all over like hands just aren’t and there’s more, pressing up behind Kris’ balls and back further and then in. Kris cries out, jerks frantically in Adam’s grip and comes. Kris hears Adam moan faintly over the blood pounding in his ears and the touch closes all around him again, only holding instead of restraining.
Kris slumps, feeling drained, and pretty willing to let Adam manhandle him as much as he wants after that. There are red marks on his wrists, and Kris touches them, giddy and a little overwhelmed. He looks up to say something, to tell Adam to come over here already because not everyone can do that with just their brain, and immediately wishes he hadn’t. Adam’s expression is changing from that intense focus to a dawning horror. Kris knows Adam, even with as mixed up as everything is this year and he knows exactly what Adam is thinking, and is horrified by the wrongness of that idea.
Kris stands up, but that just makes Adam jerk away from him, even though they’re still on opposite sides of the room. He scrambles off his bed and when Kris tries to take a step forward there’s an invisible wall there. Kris shouts his name fruitlessly as Adam bolts out of the room. He's down the hall and out the door before the wall keeping Kris back unravels.
Kris swears and kicks the bed, because of course Adam, who can usually read Kris pretty well, would pick the absolute worst time ever to be a complete moron. Thunder cracks loudly outside and Kris swears at the weather too. He hates wet fur. Jeans and sticky boxers are tossed in a pile by his bed and Kris digs a t-shirt and clean briefs out of his dresser. The less clothing the easier it is and Kris isn’t sure how far he’s going to have to chase Adam and his goddamn dramatic streak. When Kris shifts he promptly wishes he’d just walked down the hall half-naked - the whole room smells like sex. Kris shakes himself and sneezes and runs out after Adam.
It’s easier than he thought it would be. Adam is fast and has a head start but Kris is faster, and has been tracking across these grounds since he was thirteen. Adam is sitting in the hidden gazebo on the back of the library, which is free of amorous students only because it’s still pouring down rain. It takes all of ten minutes to find him, but Kris really hates being wet, and it smells disgusting here and he really can’t believe Adam just ran out like that. He’s not in a good mood.
You are the biggest asshole ever comes out a chesty, wet snarl and there’s a mean little spike of pleasure when Adam jumps, staring around startled and blind in the dark. Kris steps closer, into the weak light from the single bulb and only makes it halfway up the steps before the invisible wall is back, but it feels uncertain and faltering and Kris pushes hard, whining. He just wants Adam to let him in. Adam drops his head to his bent knees and the wall crumbles.
Kris is grateful just to be out of the rain and proceeds carefully, not wanting to scare Adam, who doesn’t look like much more than a grey shape like this, but smells sharp with guilt and fear and panic. Closer still and Kris can hear Adam over the rain, apologizing over and over and it’s more annoying than anything, that Kris came after him and Adam still thinks he did something wrong. Close enough for his breath to ruffle Adam’s hair, and Adam’s hand comes up, clutching at the thick fur of Kris’s neck.
Belatedly, Kris realizes that - cold rain or no – this will probably be easier if Adam can see Kris, and not an extra from Van Helsing. Even though the urge to just grab Adam by the back of the neck and haul him back to their dorm is pretty strong. Kris falls back into himself and oh, this really sucks because he’s freezing on top of wet now and Adam’s hand jerks away from the bare skin of his neck like he’s been burnt. Kris grabs his wrist.
“Fucking don’t.” Adam flinches wildly, yanking his arm out of Kris’ grip and Kris is seriously this close to biting him.
Instead he grabs Adam’s shoulders and shoves until Adam unfolds and looks at him, and there’s so much self-loathing there Kris almost wishes he hadn’t. Kris is used to Adam being the one with all the answers and he blurts out the first thing he thinks of.
“Don’t ever run from me again.”
Adam is actually confused by that, and Kris squashes completely inappropriate laughter.
Kris slams Adam back against the slats of the gazebo hard enough to make them rattle because he’s still not getting it.
“Fuck you and your ethics. Do you think I can’t say no? Jesus, Adam, I was practically begging for it.”
Saying that last part makes Kris flush red despite the rain, but at least Adam looks like he starting to listen to Kris and not just freaking out.
“Kris, I held you down. I’m not supposed-”
Which is absolutely enough of that train of thought. Kris puts his hand over Adam’s mouth.
“I wanted you to, stupid. You are so thick sometimes, I swear.”
Kris laughs shortly, and presses his head against Adam’s. He’s cold and half naked and feels ridiculous, and not really up to trying to explain that he’s been completely stupid over Adam all summer and Adam finally did something about it, so Kris is feeling pretty happy and not at all violated about that. Adam’s hands come up and rest cautious and warm on Kris’ biceps and Kris sighs.
“I wanted it. So just stop, okay? Because you’re wrong.”
Kris can practically hear Adam over-thinking all of it, and his face in the pale light is uncertain. Kris is out of words, so he moves his hands from Adam’s shoulders, tilts his face up and kisses him. Adam tastes like rainwater and for a moment his mouth is unresponsive and cool under Kris’, then Adam makes a small noise and his hands tighten on Kris’ arms. Adam’s mouth is slick and hot and Kris has been trying not to think about this all summer. He groans and sucks Adam’s tongue, which gets him pulled closer and Kris tightens his hands in Adam’s hair.
Kris shivers as rain trickles wet and cold down his back and when he leans back Adam’s teeth catch his lower lip. Adam’s hands slide over his sides, pushing up the hem of Kris’ soaked shirt and it’s only the thought of getting to do this inside where it’s warm and dry keeps Kris from crawling into his lap.
“I’m going back to our room.” It takes a while to get the sentence out because Adam’s mouth is right there and seriously, all summer. “You should follow me.”
Kris stands up reluctantly, and it’s the lesser of two evils, choosing between wet fur again and having to walk back to the dorm without pants. At least it’s warmer as a wolf, and Adam smells amazing. Back at the dorm Kris shakes himself violently on the porch, and is thankful that in a school of freaks a damp werewolf walking down the hall doesn’t even warrant a second look.
Kris grabs clean boxers and wrings out his wet clothes as best he can over the sink, his stomach feels tight with nerves and impatience. Mostly impatience and he licks his lips for the memory of Adam’s taste as he towels off his hair. Adam is sitting on Kris’ bed when he comes out of the bathroom and he smiles at Kris, biting his lip, hands folded in his lap. His clothes are piled in a spreading puddle by the door and he’s got one of Kris’ blankets around him, his hair is dripping and flat and Kris just grins back at him, feeling giddy all the way down to his toes.
“So, uh. Sorry I was a moron.”
Adam sounds sheepish, and he holds out one side of the blanket when Kris crawls onto to the bed with him. They’re both wet and Kris is shivering but having Adam wrapped around him like this is a million times better than just the touch of his mind. Kris decides that after what happened earlier on this bed, and running after Adam in his underwear he hasn’t go a lot of shame left here and settles himself across Adam’s lap.
“Yeah, well, just don’t do it again.”
Adam giggles, and his hands are hot on Kris’ hips.
“Cross my heart.”
Kris has been done talking for a while now; he leans down and kisses Adam and this time Adam’s mouth opens under his immediately. Kris digs his hands into Adam’s hair, tilting his head so Kris can get his tongue in Adam’s mouth, and wishes he hadn’t wasted half the summer not doing this. The blanket falls away when Adam wraps his arms around Kris and Kris is so far from cold he barely notices. Adam is naked under him, and Kris can feel Adam’s erection nudging against his balls. It sends a little thrill of excitement through Kris because, yeah, he wants that.
Adam’s hands slide down, under the waistband of Kris’ boxers and Kris wriggles against him. He’s already spread open across Adam’s thighs and Adam’s fingers go right where Kris wants them. Adam hesitates and Kris presses back into his hands with an impatient noise. Adam nuzzles his face into the curve of Kris’ neck and scrapes his teeth there, his fingers making little circles against his hole that have Kris trying to crawl out of his skin with the tease of it.
Adam’s pretty much mauling his neck at this point and Kris rubs himself shamelessly against Adam’s stomach, moaning as the tip of Adam’s finger presses in. He whines in protest when Adam pulls back.
“God, Kris.” Adam’s hands knead at Kris’ lower back and that feels great, but not really what Kris is after. “We need lube, you gotta let me up for a second.”
That isn’t going to happen like, ever. Kris looks around, then leans over and grabs the bottle of lotion off his bedstand and presses it into Adam’s hand. Adam blinks at him disbelievingly, then laughs and drags Kris down into a deep kiss. Kris isn’t sure what exactly he did to prompt that, but he’s not complaining. Or at least, he’s not until Adam moves him off his lap and onto the bed.
Adam puts his hand over Kris mouth, eyes mischievous and happy and Kris licks his palm.
“Shush. I wanna do something, roll over.”
Kris is just fine with whatever is says about him that he’ll roll over for Adam even when he doesn’t know what Adam wants. Adam drags his hands down Kris’ back and Kris arches into it and the open-mouthed kisses Adam plants down the length of his spine. He tries to turn when Adam’s hands grip his ass, thumbs sliding down and spreading Kris open, but Adam gives him a gentle mental nudge between the shoulders.
“Just go with it.”
Adam sounds amused and a little smug, and Kris has no idea what he’s up to, but he settles down. Gets the scrape of Adam’s teeth over one ass cheek and then oh God that’s Adam’s breath. Kris twists around again.
That’s all he gets out because Adam’s tongue is dragging wet and textured-soft over his hole and Kris cries out. He hadn’t known people did this outside porn. But Adam does, apparently; he laughs a little, and his breath on wet skin gives Kris goosebumps. It’s slippery and a little ticklish and exquisite in a way that has Kris twisting in Adam’s grip, unsure whether he’s try to pull away or get closer.
Adam shifts, his shoulders spreading Kris’ thighs even further apart and Kris shoves his face into the pillow with a whine. Adam’s tongue is in him now and Kris’s thighs shake with the effort of not thrashing at the overload of sensation. He’s reduced to animal noises, pressing back shamelessly against Adam’s face. Kris feels spoiled on Adam’s physical touch now, but when that heatless touch curls around his cock and strokes it works just as well. Kris can’t even get Adam’s name out when he comes.
Adam gives him one last long lick that makes Kris jerk all over and leans up over Kris, nuzzling the back of his neck. Kris feels too blissed out to care that Adam’s smugness is practically a palpable aura.
“See, told you go with it.”
Adam’s breath is hot and damp on Kris’ shoulder, wet as Kris is now, and Kris wriggles over onto his back and presses his mouth under Adam’s chin, licking and biting, not quite brave enough to kiss him on the mouth. Adam’s cock bumps against his hip, wet and searing, and Kris curves his back so he can wrap his legs around Adam’s waist. Adam’s throat vibrates against his mouth when he speaks.
“Do you still want?”
Adam trails off, rocking against Kris’s hip, smearing his skin.
Kris sees a flash of Adam’s grin as he ducks his head, kissing Kris on the cheek and sitting back, Kris’ legs still around his waist. Then Kris isn’t looking at Adam’s face any more, but at his shoulders and chest and all the lean muscle of him. And, yeah, Adam’s dick, angry-red and curved against his stomach. Kris thinks he should be nervous, because he hasn’t done this much before and Adam’s a bit more than proportional. It’s Adam, though, who Kris is pretty much incapable of being afraid of. The boneless lassitude of having just come is probably helping, too.
The hand lotion is kind of slimy, but the hollow ache that wells up when Adam’s fingers push into him is pure good. Kris arches, groaning, and Adam swears and rocks against him, his cock rubbing against the inside of Kris thigh. Kris is getting hard again, twitchy and sensitive with it, and he gasps when Adam rubs him, flattening Kris’ cock against his stomach with his palm. Impatience wells up suddenly, Kris wants more, and he squeezes down around Adam’s fingers.
“Come on, Adam.”
Adam slicks himself with a palm full of the lotion and leans over Kris, eyes crinkled and smiling. The slippery nudge of his cock behind Kris’ balls makes Kris frantic.
“You’re kind of demanding.”
Adam’s hovering over him and Kris doesn’t care anymore and pulls Adam down into a kiss. Adam makes a startled noise and melts into it. Kris is starting to learn Adam’s mouth, what he likes and what he’ll moan for and is gleeful when Adam makes a rough, guttural noise before pulling back with one last lingering suck of Kris’ tongue.
“Okay, I can deal with demanding.”
Adam lines himself up and pushes and Kris can’t do anything but pant, aching and full and trying not to squirm because that will just slow things down. All the way in, finally, and Kris is scratching at the sheets with Adam’s hands clutching bruises into his hips and his hips flush against Kris’ ass. Kris whines and rocks against him because Adam isn’t moving and Adam jerks against him, little rock of motion that’s nowhere near enough.
Surprised he even gets the word out, it feels like everything inside him has been pushed aside to make room. Adam groans out a laugh, presses his face to Kris’ neck. Wet, open mouth and the scrape of teeth over his collarbone. Adam sits back and shifts his grip on Kris’ hips, something like intent on his face as he pulls back and rocks forward and Kris shudders. He always forgets how good this is. Nothing like fingers or toys or tongue and Adam is good at it.
Even the strain in his back is good as Adam moves him, getting Kris’ knees over his arms. The angle shifts from good to perfect and when Kris groans it cracks at the end. He digs his fingernails into Adam’s back because he needs something to hold on to and scratches again when it makes Adam moan, high and startled and shove into him hard.
“Nnngh. Oh god, like that. Hard. Adam, please-”
Adam swears breathlessly and obliges and Kris is going to hurt tomorrow, he can feel it in the sharp, sweet edge under the pleasure but he can’t care. Can barely breathe with Adam over him, pressing his legs back, compressing Kris into the most convenient shape and his cock caught between their stomachs is just enough friction to send Kris over the edge, moan strangling in his throat and almost a keen with his nails raking Adam’s spine.
Adam groans and sits back again, pulling Kris with him. The sight of his own come spattered across Adam’s belly makes Kris moan again, still shuddering through aftershocks. Adam keeps fucking him, rhythm gone harsh and stuttering and his shoulders hunched in like hurt. The pleasure turns both muted and sharper and Kris just wants to wallow in it, feeling roughly the consistency of an over-done noodle and just letting Adam use him until Adam moans sharp and hurt and curls further in on himself and god he’s coming in Kris.
Kris gasps and flinches when Adam pulls out even though it doesn’t hurt, exactly. Adam stretched out next to him is an irresistible invitation. Kris drapes himself, sticky and happy across Adam, who’s already reaching for him, hands stroking and kneading like he can’t get enough either. Kris kisses him, slow and sloppy and the only trouble in his mind is wondering how he’s ever going to stop doing this long enough to leave the room.
Adam’s mouth drags over his shoulder, less any sort of kiss than just rubbing.
“That’s why you’re my favorite summer boy.”