Title: If You Really Fell (4/9)
Summary: Kris and Adam write a song together and it changes how they see each other forever.
Disclaimer: They're real, this isn't.
Kris was barely able to stand it, the deadly contradiction between feeling the need to avoid Adam to keep his life intact and the desperate longing to be around him as much as possible. And there was no solution, no one he could talk to, nothing he could do to fix it except shut his eyes and hope everything would go back to normal.
The night after the Philadelphia show that preceded a day off, the idols hit up a random bar in the city and Kris decided it was a good idea to get very, very, extremely wasted. At one point he was holding up a drink - he couldn’t even figure out what it was, Anoop had shoved it in his hand - and singing, loudly, along to Britney’s If You Seek Amy.
“Okay, Danny, listen to me, I totally didn’t get the song until like two seconds ago. It’s F U C K me! Did you get that before? Because I so didn’t.”
Apparently what he was saying didn’t make much sense because Danny just looked at him for a couple of seconds and then said, in a voice indicating impending doom, “Dude.”
Kris, feeling the need to explain himself, placed his hand on the back of Danny’s neck and pulled him forward. “Danny. Danny. I am out of my fucking mind right now.”
Danny did not seem to appreciate the invasion of personal space and jumped away. “I can see that. You sure you’re okay?”
“Me?” said Kris, downing the rest of whatever was in his hand, “I am fucking fantastic.”
Danny’s eyes got wide and he walked away. Kris looked around for Anoop, who had been pretty drunk before, but then he spotted he and Megan making out in a corner. Kris looked away, laughing. Definitely not something to interrupt. It then seemed like a great idea to find Adam. But he stopped short, reminding himself forcefully that Drake was there, and it wasn’t smart to interact with him now.
Because he liked Adam, he had realized that morning while pouring himself a bowl of Count Chocula. A lot. And not innocently either.
He had spent the whole day trying to deny it, trying to think of his wife instead. But his phone conversation with her had been forced to say the least, and only confirmed his worst fears about what was going on on her end of their life together.
Katy had told him to call right after the show, which he had, obediently, but she hadn’t picked up. He had tried for over two hours, until he finally reached her on the way to the bar.
“Katy, jesus, why didn’t you pick up before?” he had said upon hearing a laughing, distracted answer on the other line.
“Hold on, what’s with your tone?”
“You told me to call you right away, it sounded serious, and you never called back, so yeah, I’m kinda pissed.” The whole bus instantly fell into an awkward, respectful silence at Kris’ words. He could have sworn he saw Adam exchange a significant glance with Lil.
“You must have misheard me.”
“Um, no, Katy, I’m pretty sure I didn’t. I specifically called you because you made it sound important.”
“Just talking to me isn’t important enough?”
Kris had nothing to say to that.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to slip out,” said Katy in a small voice.
“Yeah, well, let’s not turn this into a fight,” sighed Kris, realizing their tendency as a couple to avoid talking about problems but feeling utterly unable to do anything about it.
“Okay. You sound busy, and I’m kinda busy myself. Should we do this another time?”
There was a short pause. “Is tomorrow okay?”
Kris hesitated. “Yeah, I guess, but we gotta make the times I’m available work for us next time, okay?”
“Okay Kris. We’ll try.”
They said their usual I love you’s and goodbyes but Kris was thinking she had to try a lot harder.
Then Adam had come and put an arm around him, mumbling comfortingly something along the lines of “You want to talk about it?” at which Kris’ heart had sped up and his shoulders had tensed at the sensation of their bodies wrapped together and he had already forgotten about Katy and that was when Kris had decided it was time to drink like he hadn’t since college.
It was kind of nice, actually, to not be completely freaking out about the current state of his life like he had spent the last couple of days doing. He had barely been speaking to Adam or even looking at him, afraid his tentative feelings would only be magnified. Adam had seemed concerned, but not hurt, most likely taking it to be due to Kris’ marital problems. But Kris was barely able to stand it, the deadly contradiction between feeling the need to avoid Adam to keep his life intact and the desperate longing to be around him as much as possible. And there was no solution, no one he could talk to, nothing he could do to fix it except shut his eyes and hope everything would go back to normal.
But now nothing mattered; He couldn’t bring himself to worry about the possibility of being found out. And when he saw Adam sitting on a long green couch across the room from him, he could finally, really, look at him.
His show makeup was still on but smudged and running with sweat. His eyes were downcast and his hands were folded. His face was kind of perfect, Kris thought, and wondered if he could really be physically attracted to another man. But then he remembered the time he had gotten hard while watching Adam rehearse Whole Lotta Love for the tour and decided yes, he could. At the time he had passed it off as being deprived sexually, and concluded that the song itself had turned him on. But now, Kris realized, with a kind of hysteria, that it was Adam himself, his outfit, his smokey, dangerous eyes, his come-hither lips, his confidence as he strutted back and forth across the stage. Kris remembered when his mouth had gone dry while watching Adam brush a red tasseled whip against his thigh from backstage and couldn’t believe he hadn’t figured it out until now how undeniably sexy Adam was.
As Kris continued to stare and more details became clear, he realized that Adam’s makeup hadn’t run with sweat but with tears. With a pang in his heart and no other thought than the sudden clarity that he wanted this man, Kris immediately began to stride towards Adam.
Adam, as though sensing his presence, looked up and pasted on a grin that conflicted terribly with his puffy, red eyes. “Woah, you okay, honey?”
“I’m great, thanks,” said Kris, sliding in next to him and placing his hand on Adam’s thigh. Adam glanced down for a second but did nothing about it. “More importantly, how are you?” Kris added.
“I’m pretty good...” said Adam, laughing shakily as Kris began to stroke up and down his leg. “You must be pretty wasted right now,” he slurred.
Kris didn’t respond, just kept doing what he was doing until Adam’s eyes fluttered closed and his head tilted back in pleasure. But then, just as quickly, he snapped back up and hissed at Kris, “What are you doing?”
“Dunno, do you like it?”
“Kris, Drake is here, this is kind of... um.”
“Inappropriate?” laughed Kris, continuing his ministrations even higher up Adam’s thigh. “It’s not inappropriate unless you like it.”
Adam’s eyes were closed again and his hands were clenched into fists by his sides. “Fuck, Kris. Drake is right. over. there.”
“Let’s go then,” Kris said simply, taking one of Adam’s hands and leading him into a single bathroom. Just before the door shut behind them, Kris caught a glimpse of Drake emerging from the crowd, searching along the couches.
Adam turned serious immediately. “Kris, you have got to calm down and think about what you’re doing. Remember, I am a man. You like women. You have a wife named - ”
But Adam stopped short there because Kris’ tongue was on his neck. “What were you saying?” breathed Kris over the wetness along Adam’s collarbone, then went back to sucking a spot that made Adam’s breath hitch.
“A wife named... fuck.”
Kris had Adam pinned against the door now, one hand on each of Adam’s wrists. It felt like nothing else in the world, listening to Adam’s heavy breathing, feeling his body heave in time against his. But he wanted more, wanted to feel that Adam wanted him. He slid his right hand down along Adam’s chest, lower, lower until his fist brushed against Adam’s cock pressing urgently into his jeans. Kris smiled in triumph, but he had gone too far.
Adam leapt to the side immediately, seemingly shocked back to reality by the bold touch.
“I can’t believe I just let that happen,” Adam said, face pressed into the door, as Kris fell back to sit on the closed toilet seat. “Drake could have walked in any second.”
“Maybe that would have been good,” said Kris mildly.
“No, Kris, that would not have been fucking good! Things are really shaky between us now,” Adam snapped, then buried his face in his hands. “You’re drunk, I’m drunk, none of this was supposed to happen. You’re not thinking straight.”
Kris looked up, starry-eyed. “Maybe I am thinking straight. Maybe this was supposed to happen.”
Adam stared back, terrified. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
Kris rose and walked toward him, backing him into the door again. “I do, Adam. I want you. I wanted this to happen.”
Before Adam could respond, the door swung open and the two of them fell out, only to see Drake standing there, open mouthed, empty-eyed.
There was a horrible silence during which no one could think of anything to say. Kris didn’t feel drunk anymore, just sick. Very sick. Before he could try to stop it, Kris was bolting to the toilet and and puking all over it. Through the mayhem, Kris could barely make out the cold exchange taking place a few feet away.
“I don’t want to hear it, Adam. I saw it in his eyes. I saw it in your eyes. I don’t want to be second place anymore.”
A pair of footsteps exited and after a moment Kris wasn’t sure if anyone was still there. But then he came up for air in time to hear Adam’s broken, icy voice from the doorway. “Dammit, Kris, you had to go and fuck this up.”
And Kris was left alone to throw up the rest of his guts and think about how right Adam was, how all hope for any sort of resolution had just flown out the window. Part of him knew that he should have felt worse for Drake, but overwhelmingly all he really felt was loss... the loss of his relationship with Adam.
CONTINUE TO PART FIVE
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