Title: If You Really Fell (3/?)
Summary: Kris and Adam write a song together and it changes how they see each other forever.
Rating: R for now, eventual NC-17
Disclaimer: They're real, this isn't.
Nothing could erase the sharp, bright memory of Adam’s eyes boring into his and no one else's, making him feel important. Loved.
Kris awoke to an unexpectedly empty room. He was disappointed - he’d been looking forward to Adam’s sleepy, smiley face first thing in the morning.
He reached over to slam the alarm off, but instead his hand made contact with a sheet of paper that had been carefully laid over the clock.
Kris - Got uncomfortable on the sofa, didn’t want to wake you. P.S. loved writing with you, it’s turning out great. See you in a few hours, Adam.
Kris grinned and shoved it in his pocket as he got dressed.
Later at the meet and greet, he leaned over while Adam was busy signing a copy of Rolling Stone and said, without really thinking about it, “You know next time you can just sleep in the bed. There’s plenty of room.”
Adam shot him an uncomfortable smile that seemed to say, not in front of the fans. But Kris persisted, placing his mouth closer to his ear. “I'm serious, you know.”
Adam lowered his voice and said, “Are you sure that’s not weird?”
Kris shrugged. “No way, I did it all the time with my buddies on mission trips.”
Adam squinted, doubtful, but said, “Alright, then, if there’s a need.”
Then Adam was distracted by a flamboyant young man wearing bright blue glittery eye makeup who was bending further across the table than was strictly necessary to pass him a program to sign. “I’m such a huge fan, like you have no idea,” he gushed. “Your range is unbelievable.”
“Oh, thank you so much,” said Adam politely, eyeing him up and down. “I love your eyeshadow.”
“Oh my god, thank you! I did it myself, I was trying to copy yours from the show.”
Adam squinted and leaned upward to get a closer look at the kid’s face. Kris’ brow furrowed, watching carefully. “Wow, yeah, it’s really good, you must have used the right products,” said Adam, completely genuine.
“Mac is kind of my life.”
“Mine too!” laughed Adam, who ignored the security guard’s attempt to keep the line moving.
“God knows it needs to last, saving it for clubbing later, obviously.”
“What are the best ones around here? I might - ”
“Oh you should totally go tonight,” the kid giggled and batted his eyelids flirtatiously. Kris was now barely glancing at the people he was supposed to be signing autographs for. “I’ll be at one on Tremont Street, ESR. You’d love it, you need to come.”
“Maybe I will,” Adam said in a low voice, grinning and grabbing his sharpie, and Kris had the horrible thought that he could be serious. “What’s your name?”
“Eddie,” he said, and grabbed a card and pen from his pocket, scrawling something. “Here’s my number, maybe when you get there gimme a call?” And he actually winked.
Mercifully, he left after that, but Adam continued smiling for far too long. Kris confronted him about it an hour later when they were eating dinner in the green room, off in their own corner.
“Who?” said Adam when Kris brought it up. “Oh, Eddie, yeah, he was really sweet.”
Kris dropped his fork. “You’re kidding, right? He was ridicu - ”
“Nice brown hair, really cute...” said Adam dreamily.
Adam snapped out of it. “What?”
“He was like, a kid, and you were totally leading him on!”
Adam looked confused. “Kris, he wasn’t a kid, he was practically your age. And I wasn’t leading him on, I was actually planning on going.”
“You can’t be serious,” said Kris, voice rising indignantly and causing Scott and Matt to turn around. “You’re going to go by yourself to a random gay club in a city you barely know to hang with some... some twenty-something stranger?”
“Um, yes, actually. He seemed perfectly nice.” Kris could tell Adam was pissed now. “This is what I do sometimes, I used to a lot back home.”
“But he was so, I mean just so - ”
Everything stopped. He had no idea what to say for a few seconds. Adam’s expression was aggressive, but Kris could see the hurt in his eyes.
“I didn’t mean that,” he whispered eventually, afraid everyone else in the room was listening. But he had paused for too long.
“What did you mean then, hmm? Because you know me, you know this is my life, so why are you deciding to act like a complete douche bag now?”
And Adam stormed away before Kris could try to stop him, or at least point out he had barely eaten. He wheeled around and saw that everyone was staring at him, silent and shocked. Kris couldn’t bring himself to explain and went back to his dinner.
They were both off their game that night on stage. The crowd cheered just as loudly, but their foul moods affected their songs and the energy was lackluster. It wasn’t until Kris was lying in his bunk alone that he got a chance to think.
Adam was likely partying that very second. The thought made Kris so angry he wanted to rip apart his comforter.
Part of him knew it was ridiculous. Adam had been right - he had been aware of and totally okay with his lifestyle before, so why had he reacted so strongly only just now? But who was Kris kidding. He knew why. He had known the moment he had realized Adam was flirting back, the second that Adam had sent another man a smile he had only seen sent his way.
He was jealous.
The idea was terrifying, and came readymade with a thousand implications he wasn’t ready to handle yet, but Kris was absolutely sure it was the truth. The thought of Adam with Drake had always unsettled him, not because of the gay thing, but because of the possibility that Adam really, truly cared for the guy, maybe more than he cared for Kris, and Kris kind of wanted to be important to Adam. And he was pretty sure the jealousy was nothing more than that. He just had to push the persistent memories of Adam’s lips against his out of his dreams and especially out of his waking thoughts.
At that inconvenient moment, a bluish light suddenly flashed in Kris’ eyes and he looked up, embarrassed as though he had been caught doing something wrong. A shadowy Matt was hovering above, peering down at him.
“Dude, you awake? Adam wants to know if he can talk to you now.”
“Isn’t he out clubbing or something?”
Matt’s barely illuminated face was shifty and awkward. “Uh, no, man. He’s been here the whole time.”
“Oh,” said Kris. “Well, he should just come in if he wants to talk to me.”
Matt hesitated for a second, but left to go get him. Adam entered seemingly an age later, padding in slowly in a pair of fuzzy socks. He carefully came to kneel beside Kris, and it sort of felt like Adam was at his deathbed to hear his last words. He looked concerned enough to fit the part, face stressed, eyeliner smudged, and feathery hair mussed. But he looked just a little bit beautiful.
“Kris, I’m sorry for freaking out at you earlier,” Adam said slowly. “It kind of came out of nowhere.”
“Why on earth are you apologizing,” said Kris, exasperated, rubbing his eyes. “I was the one being an asshole.”
Adam smiled hugely, clearly very relieved, as though he had been worrying for hours. “So we’re good? We don’t need to have a brotherly heart to heart about it?”
Kris looked at him and said, with all the honesty in the world, “Of course we are, Adam. I could never be mad at you.”
“I could never really be mad at you, Kris. You’re too cute.”
It was something about those words, about the casual but genuine way they were delivered, the complete sincerity and flattery of it, that made Kris’ hand move, of its own volition, to push a few loose strands of hair on Adam’s forehead into place.
The gesture was too tender, too intense, Kris knew the second he pulled his hand away. Adam’s face changed, staring at Kris with an unreadable expression. As the silence stretched and they continued looking at each other, the surer Kris was that Adam was going to either admonish him or lean in and kiss him. But he did neither, standing up and uncomfortably mumbling something about being tired and needing sleep.
But Kris was wide awake now, and nothing could erase the sharp, bright memory of Adam’s eyes boring into his and no one else’s, making him feel important. Loved. And sleep could never erase the comfort of Adam’s note still in his pocket from that morning, resting crumpled against his leg.
CONTINUE TO PART FOUR