Write or Die Ficlets

aka the comment box ficlets

Edge

The first time Adam Lambert see's Kris Allen he is not sure of he wanted to fuck Kris or cuddle Kris. Now three month's down the road and 1000 cuddles later they both know what they want. And it not just cuddling.

For the "Cuddling" square in my Schmoop Bingo card.

1

Kris' couch is just right for cuddling. It's wide enough that they don't fall off and not too wide that they can't justify touching everywhere. They start the night on either end of it and don't ever talk about how they'll inevitably end up lying pressed against each other in a matter of hours.

It’s comforting, and Adam finds that he craves it when he goes a week without. Kris' body fits just right into his arms, and he’s always so pliant, so relaxed, so happy there. He’s warm and he makes the most amazing noises...

They’re watching an action movie tonight, and right now, some blond guy is kissing Angelina Jolie rather enthusiastically. Adam is not really all that interested. Yes, Angelina Jolie has pretty lips, but Adam’s brain is busy with the feel of Kris' t-shirt under his palm and how if he pulled his hand just a bit, he’d be touching skin.

His finger twitches, but Adam resists, taking in a deep breath and filling his lungs with the smell of Kris' sweat instead.

“Mmm,” Kris says, wiggling.

Adam is pretty sure Kris can feel his hard on every time they do this. It goes unspoken, which should be weird, but Kris never really did mind it when Adam got an erection - back when they shared a room, or when they spent a whole summer in the same bus. They just accepted it as a fact and moved on. Adam has a big dick. It’s not easy to hide when it’s hard. And that was that.

He does wish they would do something about it one of these days though. There’s only so much foreplay Adam can take. It’s been four months since Kris got divorced, so that means it’s been... five years and five months since the two of them started flirting. Two years since Adam admitted to himself that he wasn’t getting over this crush. It amounts to roughly six hundred times Adam has jerked off to fantasies of finally getting under Kris' clothes.

He deserves a medal.

2

Kris' feet are bare; he doesn’t like socks all that much. Adam places one of his feet on top of Kris’, rubbing it back and forth - to warm him up if anyone asks. In a moment, he’ll run a hand up and down Kris' thigh. These are all moves he has tried in the past. Touching Kris' feet, squeezing a knee between his legs, nuzzling the back of his neck... Kris doesn’t pull back at any of them, so Adam takes advantage. He spaces them out and changes the order, but he makes sure to use those very same moves every week, to get his fill, so he can last the next seven days without grabbing and kissing Kris.

It’s a routine, one they both know well, so it throws Adam completely off when Kris bites off a moan suddenly and melts back into Adam’s chest. Adam freezes. That’s not what Kris is supposed to do. He’s supposed to say hmm and keep watching the movie. He’s not supposed to... respond.

It feels like Adam’s breathing is loud enough to be heard by the neighbors, so he bites his lip and swallows hard. Angelina Jolie is blowing up a building on the screen, so he tells himself that’s probably it. Kris probably just... forgot about him.

A couple of minutes pass in total confusion, and then Kris moves his hips, a slow back and forth movement, like he’s trying to settle, get comfortable, but it has to be deliberate, because he keeps repeating it. The back of his jeans brushes teasingly against Adam’s crotch, once, twice, three times, and just when Adam opens his mouth to say something, his heart in his throat, Kris stops.

Adam breathes through his nose and shuts his eyes, willing his erection to go down, please, for the love of God, but realizes a moment later that it’s actually quite futile when he has inadvertently fisted a hand in Kris' shirt, pulling it up to bare his abdomen. He considers letting go, but his fingers don’t feel like listening to him, and it’s probably too late to pretend anyway.

He clears his throat, but when he speaks, he still sounds hoarse. “Kris...”

3

There’s a pause and they just breathe, but then Kris pushes his hips back resolutely, pressing tight against Adam’s erection and making him moan, and says, “Yes.”

Adam's breathes out - and finds that he can't breathe back in.

He has thought about this so many times, this room, this couch, this man, these very same clothes in fact, but it was never really all that realistic. It was porn more than anything, and that can’t be his first time with Kris. There should be flowers and romance and probably a long talk about how they’re going to make it work... but here they are now, cuddled on the couch, and Adam’s cock is against Kris' ass, and Kris has just said yes.

Kris is never all that impatient in Adam’s fantasies, and that’s apparently where this experience is going to diverge from them, because before Adam can gather his wits to respond in any way, Kris takes a hold of the hand Adam has on his shirt, pries his fingers open gently, and brings it down to settle between his legs.

Adam’s limbs seem to be better at throwing off the shock than his brain is, because his palm cups Kris' cock instantly, his fingers curving to give it a squeeze. Kris lets out a long, drawn out moan, and Adam’s whole body catches on fire. He pulls Kris closer, pushing with his own hips to create pressure, and then bites the back of Kris' neck, unable to resist the call of his skin any longer.

4

“Adam,” Kris moans and starts moving, between Adam’s hand and his cock, teasing and slow. Adam groans helplessly back at him and licks the bite mark he left, tasting salt and wanting so much more. His cock is aching, trapped inside his jeans, and his lips want to find Kris' mouth, taste his nipples, his chest, his cock... He doesn’t even know where to begin.

Kris takes care of that problem for him. He lets go of Adam’s hand and unbuttons his jeans, pulling the zipper down - so loud even with the TV on - and wiggling and squirming to get the garment down his thighs. Adam’s hands busy themselves with Kris' chest, getting under the t-shirt to map the muscles, go up and tweak the nipples. Adam wishes he could lick them, suck on them until they’re aching, but the thought of being face to face with Kris right now scares the shit out of him. He doesn’t want this to end, and it feels like maybe it would if they looked into each other’s eyes. It would change – not be something wild and dreamy. It would be real - and then Adam would have to run and fetch a bouquet of flowers or something. A bottle of wine. A ring.

It’s not like Adam hasn’t had a lot of sex like this before. Mindless, thoughtless, out of control, messy sex. But he has categorized Kris in a completely different place in his mind, in a non-slutty, commitment and marriage and cuddles kind of place, so this is... this is something he shouldn’t be doing with Kris. At least not until the third date.

He has waited years. It’s ridiculous to not wait until he takes Kris out to dinner or something first.

But then again, he can’t really stop now, can he?

So, yes, it’s probably better if they don’t face each other right now.

5

Kris is trembling when he pulls Adam’s hand down, and when Adam wraps his fingers around his cock, he whimpers, sounding vulnerable and almost hurt. Adam feels like growling and picking him up from the couch, carrying him back to his own apartment and never letting him leave. He tells himself to quit the caveman act, and tightens his hold on Kris' dick instead, giving it an experimental stroke, studying Kris' reactions to every move.

Kris' cock is perfect – just like the rest of him. It fits into Adam’s fist just right, and Adam would bet it would fit into his mouth even better. He runs the fingers of his other hand – half trapped under Kris – on Kris' thigh, tickling the hairs there, and teasing the soft skin at the base of Kris' cock. Kris keeps moving his hips to the rhythm of Adam’s hand, moaning and whimpering, the occasional please escaping his lips.

He probably has no idea what it’s doing to Adam. After a couple of minutes, Adam fears he’ll come in his pants, after ten, he’s scared to even undo his fly – because, honestly, he’s not sure if he would let the lack of lube and condoms stop him from burying himself inside Kris right now. He can’t breathe from wanting it, and the noises Kris is making is not helping.

“Adam, please,” Kris says, keening, pushing back insistently.

“Sssh,” Adam tells him. “I’ll take care of you.”

Adam rubs his thumb over the head of Kris' cock and Kris moans, shaking his head and shuddering. “Please, please, please.”

6

Adam knows Kris' face by heart, every curve, every line familiar to him, because he's spent hours at a time watching it. Kris never did find it creepy, or at least, he never told Adam if he did. Fingers trailing up and down the length of Kris' cock now, Adam wonders if Kris will give him the same chance with the rest of his body. Adam can see it in his mind’s eye, he can spend weeks in bed with Kris, doing nothing but touching him, cataloguing his reactions to each caress, finding out what makes him catch his breath and what makes him come.

Adam props himself up on an elbow and looks down, seeing the curves of Kris' hips and the rise of his ass, the head of his cock disappearing in Adam’s fist. The sight of the two of them touching so intimately is almost too much, Adam buries his face in the crook of Kris' neck to hide from it, but it’s also not nearly enough at the same time. Adam needs to be naked, he needs Kris to touch him, he needs to be inside Kris.

He doubts any of the sounds that left his throat made any sense at all, but Adam somehow gets Kris to start stroking himself, and with his newly freed hand, undoes the fly of his own jeans. His cock springs out eagerly, and Adam doesn’t bother trying to push his pants down. He squeezes the base of his cock, biting his lip and holding his breath not to come immediately, and then rubs the head of his cock along the crack of Kris' ass.

It’s too much the second they touch, but there’s no turning back now. Adam can’t possibly stop, and judging by the sounds he’s making, Kris wouldn’t like that plan either. Adam pulls his other hand free and holds onto Kris' hip, guiding his movement, letting his cock dip teasingly between the cheeks of his ass, but not pushing hard enough to make him even think about penetration. Out of his mind with lust or not, Adam is not going to hurt Kris. And this is enough, anyway. This is more than enough to make them both come.

7

“Touch me,” Kris says, reaching back blindly to find Adam’s hand. “I need you to – Please.”

“Okay. Yes,” Adam mumbles, not even sure what he’s agreeing to. He peppers kisses along Kris' neck and bites his shoulder. Kris rocks back and Adam’s cock slips, pushing against Kris' entrance and making them both moan – at the idea more than the feeling. It would be so easy – so amazing, so glorious - to thrust inside, to take Kris and make him scream.

But not yet. Not this time, Adam reminds himself. They can do that later. Once they've talked. Once they've established at least that they will be doing this again. And again. And again. And then Adam will take his time getting Kris ready, and he will take his time fucking him, slow and teasing the first time, and then hard and fast, making them feel it, making them hurt in all the wonderful ways.

He holds Kris' hips steady and guides his cock down, the base settled snug between Kris' cheeks and the head nudging Kris' balls. The groan Kris lets out makes him grin, and he moves tentatively, pulling back and pushing in. It’s hot, it’s delicious, and the friction is maddening. Finding a rhythm, he reaches over to help Kris out, wrapping his fingers around Kris' on his cock and stroking up and down, tightening his hold around the head and ghosting a finger over the slit.

Adam feels victorious even before either of them comes. Kris is sweating and he’s loud, and his hips want to rise off the couch every couple of strokes. His head thrashes on the cushion, and everything that comes out of his mouth turns into moans.

8

“Come on,” Adam whispers in his ear. “You can let go now.”

Kris whimpers and shakes his head.

“Next time, I’m going to fuck you,” Adam tells him, too far gone to care about spooking him. “I’m going to lick you open, and then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t move. Would you like that?”

Kris moans an unintelligible answer. Adam kisses the back of his ear.

“I’m going to make you love it. You won’t ever want me to leave.”

“Adam,” Kris says. “Oh, God.”

His breathing hitches and his hips stutter, and Adam tightens his fingers and works him faster and faster to milk his orgasm out of him. When Kris comes, all over both their hands, he lets out the most incredible moan. It goes straight to Adam’s cock and makes him twitch, pulling Kris' ass closer for more pressure.

“Kris,” Adam says. “Just... a bit more...”

Kris moves back impossibly close to Adam’s body, not even leaving him any breathing room, and rocks his hips. Adam keeps thrusting, smearing pre-come along the crack of Kris' ass, behind his balls, and between his thighs. He’s almost sure he’s going to lose his mind before his body will let him come when Kris lifts their come-covered fingers and sucks two of Adam’s into his mouth. Kris moans around the digits, laving them with his tongue, and Adam groans, hips snapping and stuttering – and then he comes, suddenly and almost violently, making a mess of both their bodies and the couch.

9

Come cooling on skin is never a good feeling – especially not when you’re not sure what the hell to say to your partner. Adam waits, catching his breath; he doesn’t let go of his grip on Kris' hand and his hips, and he doesn’t pull his cock back, but he also doesn’t dare kiss his neck or... talk.

Thankfully, Kris isn't sharing the same paralysis.

“This isn’t... how I... planned this...”

“You planned this?”

“Well, no. Not exactly. I mean, I... fantasized?”

Adam can’t see Kris' face, but he’s pretty sure Kris is wincing. It makes him smile.

“I had fantasies like this,” Adam says. “We even took it further in some of them. Because, you know. I always have magically appearing lube in fantasies.”

Kris chuckles, surprised.

“But then I had the more realistic ones. Those had flowers. And more talking. Did yours have flowers?”

Kris stays quiet for a moment, and Adam holds his breath, not sure what’s coming. Then Kris moves, slowly but surely, he turns around in Adam’s arms to face him. The sight of his face makes Adam lose his train of thought completely. He’s sweaty and flushed, his lips red like he’s been biting them, and his eyes are intent on Adam’s.

“No flowers,” Kris says. “But more talking. Yeah.”

Adam doesn’t think about what he’s doing as he extends a hand to touch Kris' cheek, and it only occurs to him that maybe he should have wiped it off first when his fingers leave a trail of come along Kris' cheekbone. He considers apologizing, but then realizes that he’s not sorry. Not about any of it. So he leans in instead and licks Kris' face clean.

Kris smiles at him with lopsided lips, still a little dazed.

“I believe you made some promises...” he says. “When can I collect on those?”

Adam smirks at him.

“How fast can you get condoms and lube?”

Kris grins. “Really fast.”

Adam locks their lips together. They kiss for the very first time.

 

Scene

Kris can't make ends meet with music alone so he takes a 'day' job at an independent movie studio where they produce porn (bookkeeper? fluffer? whatever). One day the studio's big star Adam Lambert is short a co-star and he drafts Kris for the part.

For the "Other: Actors" square in my AU Bingo card.

1

It was supposed to be just a blowjob. That's what they said. We won't get any close shots of your face, they said. You'll just get your cock sucked, it's not a big deal, they said.

So how Kris ended up sitting in some dude's lap with a cock nudging him behind the balls is a mystery.

Kris turns his face into the guy's neck, hiding his flushed cheeks, and the guy pulls at Kris' cock with a sure, strong grip, crooning in his ear.

"So damn hot. Yes. Let me hear you, baby."

A blowjob is a blowjob, it doesn't matter whether you're gay or not. That had been the argument they used to lure him out of his clothes. Kris hadn't exactly bought it, but rent was due and he could really use the money, so he'd gone along with it. But judging by the way his cock is leaking right now - like there's no tomorrow - he's either been fucking the wrong gender until today, or it really doesn't matter whose hand is on his cock. It's a depressing thought either way.

2

The guy caresses the inside of Kris' thigh and pulls his leg up higher, spreading him open for the cameras. He licks a hot wet stripe up Kris' neck and Kris hears himself moan. Loudly.

This is so out of character for him, it's not even funny anymore.

The guy gets a bottle of lube from under a pillow (and condoms - so many condoms) and he uses it liberally, coating Kris' cock with it until it starts dripping down between his thighs. When he puts his hand back on Kris, it goes smoother, and he can move faster, bringing Kris to the brink in a matter of minutes. Kris thrusts up into his fist, unable to keep still, but the guy puts a hand on a his hips to slow him down.

"Don't come yet," he says. "I'm not done with you."

The fist around his cock tightens, keeping his orgasm at bay, and Kris doesn't even bother trying to keep in the whiny groan that escapes his lips. This is cruel and unusual. Isn't he getting paid to come? After fucking with his sexual identity, you'd think they would at least let him have an orgasm.

The pressure on his cock eases, the hand moving to his waist to guide him down from the guy's lap and onto the bed. Kris lies where he's dumped, on his side on top of the covers, and feels the guy settling along his back, warm and slightly sticky with sweat, touching Kris all over at once.

3

A large palm runs up Kris' abdomen, maps his chest, making a slight detour to thumb his nipples, and then it goes back down, trailing up and down Kris' thigh, teasing him until he thinks he's going to lose his mind.

Kris has his eyes closed - because, obviously, if he can't see the cameras, then they're not there - and he tries to stay still, but if the guy - if someone, really, anyone - doesn't touch his dick and bring him off soon, he's going to die. The cause of death will be a combination of blue balls and mortification, and Kris will probably go down in history books because of it.

He wants to share all that with the crew - he has shared everything else after all - but apparently you can't form sentences when you have absolutely no blood left in your brain. Instead he says, "Stop. Teasing," and that works as well; it's a well enough summary of what he's thinking.

The guy chuckles fondly. It sounds patronizing and annoying and it makes Kris want to bite him.

"I'm getting there, don't worry," he says. Kris feels a hand reaching between their bodies, slippery with lube, and a couple of fingers press into him.

"Oh fuck," Kris says. His whole body clenches, blood rushing to his face, and his heart starts thumping in his chest. The fingers push their way in, just up to the first knuckle, and then they pull back out, fingertips rubbing at the aching ring of muscle before dipping inside once again.

4

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for Kris to start begging for more - more pressure, more friction, just more - and he doesn't even realize what the begging is going to get him until the guy groans into the back of his neck and takes a hold of his own cock, stroking it once, twice, and then presses the head against Kris' hole.

They both moan at the feeling, and the guy rubs the already sensitized skin, moving his cock up and down, and Kris keeps pushing back - until he suddenly realizes that he's about to get fucked. For the first time. By a guy whose name he still doesn't know. In front of a dozen people.

He freezes, and he must have made a sound, because the guy freezes behind him.

"What?" the guy asks, breathless.

"I..." Kris swallows hard, opens his eyes to look around, sketching a completely crazy escape plan in his head. "I can't."

The guy groans. Kris randomly notes that his voice is very melodic. "Oh, come on," he says. "Playing hard to get? Really?"

Oh, now Kris remembers the annoyance factor. He pulls away and sits up, still feeling the ghost of the guy's touch in places he is not going to think about until he gets himself out of this mess. "I am not playing hard to get. I agreed to a blowjob. This is not a blowjob."

The guy huffs and rolls his eyes, one hand still holding his cock and lazily stroking it. Kris has to blink a couple of times before he can look away. That... is definitely a porn star sized cock. And wow, is he ever glad that he stopped the guy before he tried to shove that thing inside him.

5

"Adam, enough," Gale says.

Kris breathes out a sigh of relief. Gale is a nice guy. He buys Kris coffee sometimes and shares his bagel when Kris runs late. He was the one crazy enough to bring someone from accounting over to a porn set and arrange for him to make more money in one afternoon than he normally makes in a month. He'll take care of this misunderstanding.

"Stop screwing with him. I just need one more scene. Come on."

Adam chuckles. "I thought screwing was the whole point."

Gale steps closer to the bed, into the blinding spotlight. "Yeah, well, save that for the twinks. You're not fucking the accountant. Just get him off, and we'll wrap this up."

"Accountant? Seriously?" Adam says, looking curious and somewhat entertained.

Gale throws his hands up. "You know what, you just stay there and play with yourself." Then he turns around and yells, "Where the hell is Marty? Somebody get Marty for the love of fuck!"

6

Marty, it turns out, is a muscular blond guy, who has impossibly high cheekbones, a waxed chest, and a very, very talented tongue.

He ignores Adam completely - who's watching the scene with a smirk on his face - and gives Kris a nod in greeting, before getting down on his knees with practiced ease and swallowing Kris' cock.

Kris has to stuff a fist in his mouth to keep from screaming.

Marty doesn't fool around. He bobs his head up and down in Kris' lap, fast and furious, his long hair tickling Kris' skin. He's scary strong and he keeps Kris still with hands on either side of his hips, but it's not like Kris is about to complain about being held down right now. He might have been scared if his brain was online, but with the rhythm they've got going on, and the heat of Marty's mouth, and his tongue...

Well. Let's just say that Kris doesn't mind it for now.

Kris' dick is not porn star sized, but it's still respectable - well-proportioned for his body. But he honestly didn't know that it was possible for someone to take it all in. Marty's nose hits Kris' pubes, again and again, and Kris thinks he's going to come every time.

Is he even allowed to come without a condom? That can't be sanitary. But what does he know? He's just an accountant. He can tell how much the condoms cost the company every month, but he has no clue how exactly they're being used. He could've asked, but it never seemed relevant.

7

"Accountant, huh?" someone whispers in his ear and Kris shivers.

"Nguuuuhhh," he says in response.

"Yeah, I know," the voice continues, lips brushing against Kris' burning skin. "He's good, right?"

Kris opens his eyes, turns toward the voice, mouth opening to agree, but again, the word that leave his lips is not entirely intelligible.

"You are so cute," Adam tells him, more serious than Kris has seen him all day. "I could lick you all over."

And then there's a tongue gliding up his cheek.

Of course. That's what he's like when he's serious.

"I think you and I should-"

Kris cuts him off with a loud moan - it's ripped right out of his lungs, because Marty... Marty is a God. Marty should do this professionally.

Oh, wait. Marty does do this professionally.

Kris is surprisingly okay with people doing these things professionally now. In fact, he's not sure if he'll ever be able to go back to amateurs after this experience. Sleeping with Karla from HR is sure to be a snooze-fest from now on. Not that it had been all that brilliant to begin with, but still.

"Listen," Adam starts again, but the rest of his sentence gets lost in another of Kris' slutty moans. He can't help it. Marty does that tongue thing and Kris is suddenly a slut. A shameless, begging - though also blushing and mortified - slut. And he's okay with that, really. At least until he comes. After that, he'll have to reevaluate... pretty much everything. Starting with his sexual preferences and lack of experience.

"Slow the fuck down," Adam growls, and when Kris manages to focus his eyes, he sees one of Adam's hands in Marty's hair, keeping his head up. Away from Kris' cock. What the hell?

Marty glares at Adam, but Adam doesn't release his hold on his hair. He guides Marty down himself, who goes along grudgingly and starts sucking Kris off at Adam's pace this time, much slower. Inexplicably, that's somehow even better than before. Kris' stomach muscles clench and spasm, and Kris pants, feeling completely helpless.

8

"There," Adam murmurs. "Much better." Then he licks his way into Kris' mouth before Kris has a chance to respond and steals the air right out of Kris' lungs. His arm brushes the inside of Kris' thigh as he keeps pushing and pulling at Marty's head; and his other hand plays with Kris' hair at the same time, unabashedly innocent and tame - as if they're a couple in love, having a picnic or something, and not two strangers on a porn set having a threesome.

(Oh God, Kris thinks. I'm having a threesome. With two guys.)

Adam makes no sense to him at all - like, at all, seriously - but that doesn't stop Kris from arching up and kissing back, because what do you know, a bigger partner is a kink of his, apparently, and everything from the size of Adam's biceps to his firm and unforgiving lips make Kris want more. Crave more. He would even go for penetration right now if Adam asked, because Kris' brain has checked out completely, and all that's left behind is mindless lust.

Thankfully, Adam doesn't ask. Small favors.

He seems content with just kissing Kris - but actually, the word kissing is kind of inadequate for what he's doing. Maybe Kris should go with devouring instead. Or pillaging. Kris' lips are hurting, because Adam bites - which makes Kris want to hit him and come all over him at the same time - and Adam's tongue is a tireless, restless creature, alternating gentle caresses with wild stabs, and it gets antsy sometimes and wanders off, moving all over Kris' face and neck, sucking the most inconvenient hickeys into his skin.

"The things I could do with you," Adam says, licking under Kris' eye.

Kris isn't sure if he even wants to know.

"You think he's good?" Adam asks, just a touch of condescension in his voice, and Kris gives him a look. Of course he's good. Marty's amazing. Marty is Kris' hero. Kris wants to be him when he grows up.

Except for the hair.

And the porn career, obviously.

9

Adam chuckles against his neck. He pulls himself up higher to look Kris in the eye. "I'm better," he states. "Much better."

Kris would scoff at that - arrogant much? - but weirdly enough, he chokes on his tongue instead. He blames Adam's eyes for that. Probably because of the damn lights, they look unearthly. Brighter than the sky on a clear day. Not that Kris would ever say anything so ridiculous about someone's eyes, but yeah. Unnatural and distracting is what he's trying to say.

"Really," he chokes out. He always did fail at good comebacks.

"Yeah." Adam smiles at him - not a smirk, but an honest to God smile - and Kris finds himself angling up for another kiss. "Mmm," Adam hums into it, pulling back to breathe for a moment and then going back in for seconds and thirds.

"So do you wanna come now?"

Kris moans at the suggestion. His dick is hurting. Physically. "Yes, yes, please-"

Adam cuts him off with another wet kiss; and he's doing the patronizing thing again, Kris notes, but he doesn't mind it all that much this time.

"I'll finish this," Adam tells Marty, pulling him off Kris and pushing him away. Marty glares but doesn't fight him over it. Kris mentally waves him goodbye.

Adam wraps his hand around Kris' cock, but ignores Kris completely when he moans, "Fuck. Fuck." He moves down Kris' body purposefully, dropping kisses on Kris' chest and stomach as he goes, and says, "So. Are you busy tonight?"

"Bwha-?" Kris asks, confused.

Adam shrugs and licks the head of Kris' cock. "I was thinking dinner?"

Kris blinks at him.

"We could, you know," Adam says and pauses, taking a moment to tickle the underside of Kris' cock with the tip of his tongue. "...get to know each other?"

"Uh..."

"And then maybe have sex?" Adam says. "Lots of sex. Without the cameras."

He looks up at Kris with big hopeful eyes, a bit like a puppy really, but then gets distracted before Kris can reply - seriously: puppy - and starts lapping at the drops of pre-come on Kris' skin. Kris moans and manages not to yell at him for even more teasing. Dammit.

"So?" Adam asks. "My place?"

Kris opens his mouth, but he honestly doesn't know what to say. Say yes and step into a world of even more craziness; say no and hang himself the next time he sees Karla from HR? Tough call, either way.

Adam's face falls. "It's okay. You don't have to. Obviously." He gives Kris' cock a halfhearted lick. It doesn't look as hot when he's scowling. "I'll just..." Adam says, pointing to Kris' nether regions, "...take care of this for you."

"Yeah," Kris says, then seeing no reaction from Adam, tries to clarify. "I mean, yes. Tonight. I'm free." Adam looks up, confused. "For dinner," Kris tells him. "And sex. Yeah."

Adam's grin is sudden and blinding and makes Kris want to tackle him down on the floor and rub all over him. Which. Yeah. He's not going to do that. Not now, anyway.

"Cool," Adam says.

Kris bites his lip and doesn't smile down at him like an idiot. At all.

Someone clears their throat, and Adam rolls his eyes. He winks at Kris and then takes him in his mouth. The scene is wrapped in three seconds flat.

 

Stakes

Kris Allen is a reporter assigned to get the impossible...A one on one interview with Rock Superstar Adam Lambert...One problem Adam doesn't do interviews ever...But Kris never learned to take no for an answer.

1

Okay, the thing is, Kris really needs this job. And if he doesn't get a quote from Adam Lambert on his ex-fiance's DUI, he's definitely getting fired.

It's not like he plans it. He probably would have failed spectacularly if he had. It's more like fate. Lambert happens to stay at the hotel Katy's working, and she happens to have a key card that opens all doors, and Kris happens to steal it from her purse... Okay, that last part is intentional, obviously, but she would have given it to him anyway; he just doesn't want her to get fired because of him. She can now honestly say that someone stole it from her. They can't blame her for some asshole's sticky fingers.

Not that Kris is an asshole. He's not. He's just really, really desperate.

Slipping into the room is easy. The security guards leave with Lambert at noon, and the housekeeping lady in the hallway doesn't even glance his way. Once he's inside though, Kris realizes that he has no idea what he's supposed to do next. Is he supposed to hide? And then what? Jump out of the closet and blurt out his questions?

Flying by the seat of his pants is Kris' specialty though, so he decides not to worry about it.

Actually, no, that's a total and frankly ridiculous lie. He's just hoping for the best here and trying not to panic. Kris has had twenty-five years to test this hypothesis, and the results are conclusive: nothing ever goes right when he doesn't make someone else plan it to the smallest detail for him. Like the time he asked Katy to marry him and she told him he was gay. Or the time he let Daniel drive him to the American Idol auditions and got a totaled car and a concussion for his trouble. Or when he came to LA to become a recording artist and ended up having to choose between stalking celebrities and turning tricks for fifteen bucks.

Katy says he's just too easygoing and doesn't grab life by the balls - whatever that means - but Kris is pretty sure that he's cursed. That's the only logical explanation. (Science fails him on this.)

This argument would also explain how he manages to fall asleep in Adam Lambert's suite when he couldn't sleep a wink the night before from nerves. Apparently, the actual breaking and entering is somehow less stressful for him than contemplating the act from the safety of his rat-infested apartment. Go figure.

2

The bed moves and Kris wakes up in an instant. It's been forever since he last shared a bed with anyone, so the tiniest movement sets off the alarm bells in his head.

Is it a thief? Kris doesn't have anything worth stealing! A killer? A rapist? He tells himself to open his eyes - openyoureyesopenyoureyesopenyoureyes - but he's too scared to move or even breathe. The person in his bed sighs - a real, tired sigh - and says, "Are you my present? Where is your bow?"

And it all comes back to Kris. This is not his bed, and that guy isn't a thief. His eyes snap open and meet a pair of familiar blue eyes. He's seen them too many times on too many magazine covers not to recognize them.

"Hello," Adam Lambert says.

Kris swallows hard. "Hi."

"You're wearing plaid."

Kris looks down at his shirt, nervously pushes down the side that's riding up. "Yeah?" he asks, unsure.

"So you can't be a hooker," Lambert explains.

"Oh," Kris says, blushing despite his best efforts not to. "I'm not!" He sits up, scrambles away from the larger than life rock star that's going to call his bodyguards in to break Kris' legs any second. "I am just... this is... a misunderstanding."

Lambert raises an eyebrow. "Misunderstanding? Like, you thought this was your room? And your key happened to unlock the door? And you didn't notice all my stuff?" He points towards the open closet door where Kris can clearly see a whole bunch of colorful and sparkly and feathery clothes.

"...Yes?"

Lambert smirks, shakes his head. "No," he says.

"Oh."

3

"When fans break in, they usually run away before I come back," Lambert says, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling contemplatively. "Never had any of them fall asleep in my bed before."

He gives Kris an encouraging look, clearly saying fess up, and Kris does consider pretending to be a fan for a moment, but man, he's even worse at lying than at breaking and entering. Tempting as it is, it's really not a good idea.

Lambert continues prodding. "You here to steal a pair of panties? Is that it?"

"You wear panties?" Kris blurts out and then smacks a hand over his mouth, mortified.

Lambert laughs. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Actually, Kris would. That story would cover his rent for at least six months. Maybe more, if he actually got a picture of Lambert in them. And if he managed to snag a pair, then-

Oh, gross. He really needs another job. This one is doing things to his brain.

"Look," he says, determined to stick to his principles suddenly. "I'm not a fan."

Lambert pouts.

Kris backtracks. He doesn't want to offend the guy. "Not that your music isn't wonderful. It is. Very cool. Very. Um. Peppy."

Lambert snorts. "Peppy?"

"And I like it very much. I do. I'm just...not here in that capacity."

Lambert gives him the eyebrow again.

Get on with it, Kris thinks. Just tell him.

"I'm a reporter..."

Lambert's face falls.

"...sort of?"

4

Lambert sits up, crossing his arms over his chest. No more Mr. Flirty Guy, Kris thinks and gets off the bed, standing awkwardly next to the bedside table instead.

"Sort of," Lambert states with a glare. He's really good at that. Piercing blue eyes and all.

"Yeah, it's not like... I'm not a real reporter, but I work part time for this magazine and help them out and..." He gulps, stuffs his hands in his pockets. "And you don't care about that," he mumbles, looking down.

Lambert gets up. "I'm sure you've got whatever you were looking for, so I think it's time for you to go."

"No!" He can't leave yet. He's so close. He can get his quote and save his job and...

"You want me to call the cops?" Lambert offers. "I'm really tired, and I don't want to deal with that mess, but I will if I have to."

"No, no," Kris says, shaking his head. This is a disaster. This is exactly why he couldn't sleep last night. Things just always have to go wrong for him.

"And am I supposed to feel sorry for you?" Lambert says.

Oh, that's just awesome. He just said all that out loud, didn't he?

Lambert continues, "You break into my room to get dirt on me so you can sell it and make money off of it, and somehow you're the victim here?"

"I didn't do that! Okay, I did break in, but I didn't-"

"Out," Lambert says, cold as ice. "I'm sick of creeps like you."

5

Kris walks all the way to the door, has his hand on the knob even, but then he can't just leave, because dammit, he's so close...

"Look," he says, turning around and holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "I just need a quote. One sentence. I didn't snoop around or anything, I promise."

"Oh, you promise?" Lambert mocks. "That's alright then."

Kris stands his ground. "Yeah, I do."

"Priceless," Lambert sneers. "So I owe you something now for not snooping around in my room? What kind of a sick, perverted-"

"Alright," Kris cuts him off. "Okay. I'm leaving."

But he can't. He pauses again, hand on the knob, and turns back around. He can feel his blood boiling in his veins and he's pretty sure he has steam coming out of his ears. Kris is pathetic, he knows that. He doesn't have enough drive, enough ambition, he doesn't volunteer not nearly enough anymore as he - as anyone - should. He doesn't call his parents every week like he'd promised, doesn't go to church anymore, and yeah, he did lie to Larry about having worked at the school paper, but he is not a pervert, and he doesn't exploit people, and he's not going to just take this bullshit from a stuck up rock star.

Even if he did break into said rock star's hotel room.

"You know what, I may not be a fan, but I thought you of all people would be sympathetic, and, like, maybe nice. You're all about tolerance and helping people and being all civil to the paparazzi, but it's all fake, isn't it?"

"Oh, you have some nerve. I don't have to be nice to some guy that broke into my private space-"

"Yeah, whatever, it's not like I did anything. I just wanted a chance to ask you one stupid question, okay! And I don't even really care about your ex or his goddamn DUI, but I'm working three jobs right now and I can't afford to lose any of them. So excuse me for thinking you could just take a second to give me one simple answer."

Kris steps out and slams the door behind him. He's flushed and pissed and not interested in whatever Lambert has to say anyway. He's going to call Larry and tell him to shove his job up his-

He takes a deep breath. Or maybe he'll just sit here on this ugly carpet and calm down a bit first.

6

"I don't buy the sob story," Lambert says, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest.

Kris groans and refuses to look up. What's this guy even doing talking to him? Is he going to get arrested? Seriously? Because that would just be the awesome sauce on top of this awesome cake of a day.

"Are you on drugs?" Lambert asks suspiciously.

Kris rolls his eyes at him. "Why would I be on drugs? How would I even afford drugs?"

"I don't know. You're sitting on the floor mumbling about cake," Lambert points out. "It's either drugs or brain damage." Then his face turns concerned. "Is it brain damage?"

Kris gets up, dusting his jeans off. He should have just left. The bodyguards are probably close by and listening for Lambert's whistle or something - and Kris has seen the muscles on those guys. He wouldn't want to mess with them. Hell, Arnold Schwarzenegger wouldn't want to mess with them.

"I'm just gonna go," he says. "I'm sorry about all this. Seriously. I don't do this. This is not me."

Lambert looks unconvinced. In fact, he's giving Kris the eyebrow of unconvincement.

"My mama would be ashamed," Kris tells him. It's true. His mother would be horrified if she knew he was contemplating underwear burglary. "I didn't mean any of that in there," he says gesturing inside the room. "You're right and I was just-" He runs a hand over his eyes and sighs. "I need a new job."

"Hmm," Lambert says.

Kris looks at him, waits for him to continue, or go back into the room, or, you know, whistle for his impossibly large bodyguards.

Lambert doesn't do any of those things.

"What kind of a job?"

7

Adam Lambert doesn't drink and drive like his ex, true, but that definitely doesn't mean he doesn't drink at all. He has a huge bar in his suite - an actual bar, not a mini bar. Mini bars are for amateurs, he says, and no, seeing how Lambert mixes drinks, and more importantly, how he downs them one after the other without a pause, Kris thinks no one can claim that he is an amateur. Lambert takes his alcohol very seriously.

"This is the weirdest job interview ever," Kris slurs. He's lying on the scratchy bed cover and the whole room is spinning around him. The walls of the room are green and the furniture is in shades of gold - when they spin really really fast, the colors blur together and make the most amazing puke color. Golden puke. Like maybe a unicorn threw up in the room.

"You don't get a say," Lambert informs him. "You broke into my room."

Kris groans. "How long are you gonna hold that over my head?"

"Forever and ever?"

"Great."

"So," Lambert says. "Where were we?"

Kris takes a deep breath and works really hard on not hiccuping. "I was telling you about how I almost died during a mission trip and you were trying to make me talk about Katy."

"Yes!" Lambert says, sloshing his drink. "The pretty girl you wanted to marry! How come she turned you down? I mean, aside from the panty-stealing, you're actually a pretty decent guy."

"Thank you."

"And you're really cute. Tiny. I like tiny guys. Just the right size to snuggle with, you know? And sometimes you just need someone to ride you and with anyone larger that's--"

Kris flails. "Woah. Filter. Inappropriate. Too much information."

"Pffft." Lambert downs what's left in his glass and reaches towards the bedside table to pour some more. "No such thing as TMI. That's a myth."

"Yeah, well," Kris says, watching with a raised eyebrow as Lambert's elbow slips on the bed and he faceplants, his glass rolling down onto the floor. "So are unicorns, but your room doesn't agree."

Lambert tries to get up a couple of times, but then with a sigh gives up and turns to face Kris, his cheek smushed against a pillow.

"You're either too good to be true or completely crazy," he says.

Kris considers that. He doesn't think he's too good to be true. "I'm leaning towards crazy."

8

"It's not that she doesn't love me," Kris tries to explain. "We're roommates. We're best friends. She loves me a lot."

The eyebrow of unconvincement twitches.

"She does. She just-- She thinks-- I mean. She says--"

Adam prods Kris' leg with a bare toe. "What?"

Kris can't tell if he's blushing, but since Lambert somehow ended up lying so very close to him, he really hopes not. "She says I'm gay," he blurts out finally, shrugging like it's not a big deal.

Lambert blinks at him. Kris imagines his eyelashes setting off a tornado in China. They're really, really long.

"She says," Lambert repeats.

"Yeah."

"And what do you say?"

"I... say I have no time to worry about any of that? I really do work three jobs. You think I've got time to experiment?" He snorts.

Lambert shakes his head. "That is a crime."

"What is?"

"You're letting all that go to waste!" he says, outraged, gesturing at Kris' body.

Kris stifles a giggle. "I could always go into prostitution. Two birds with one stone."

"Or," Lambert says, leaning even closer, "you could work for me, and tell Larry and Julianne and Stevie to go to hell--"

Kris is impressed at Lambert's memory. Okay, his bosses' names are Larry, Julian and Eve, but still, it's impressive. Kris is having trouble remembering his own name right now.

"--and then you'd have time to go out and have sex and figure out if you like dick--"

"I like dick. I have a dick and I like it. It's nice."

Lambert stares at the fly of Kris' pants intently. Kris fidgets.

"But I'm not gonna work for you," he blurts out.

"What? Why?"

People usually get unfocused when they drink. It doesn't seem to work that way for Adam Lambert. His gaze is still incredibly steady and the way he's looking at him is making Kris itchy.

But at least he's not trying to see through Kris' pants anymore, so there's that.

Kris shrugs. "You'll always wonder if I'm going to sell you out, and I will always wonder if I'm going to sell you out, and even if I don't ever sell you out, I'll always know you don't completely trust me, and it'll make me sad and resentful, and you'll--"

"You realize I didn't propose marriage?"

Kris shrugs again. "Just not a good idea."

"Hmm," Lambert says thoughtfully. "Then there's only one thing to do."

"Wha-?" Kris says.

Lambert leans in and kisses him.

9

"So?" Lambert asks, breathing hard. His lips look red and slightly puffy. Kris is having trouble focusing.

"So what?"

"So, how was that? Gay? Not gay? What?"

"Oh!" Kris bites his lip. "I'm...not sure." He's not. Seriously. He wasn't thinking about that. He didn't realize he was supposed to think about that.

"Okay," Lambert says with a sigh and lifts himself up on his knees. He takes off his t-shirt in one swift move and throws it towards the closet. "Now," he says, looking down at Kris contemplatively. "Let's try this."

Kris is breathing so hard, he thinks he might be hyperventilating.

Lambert straddles his thighs and leans down to kiss him again. It's slower this time, gentler, more teasing, and soon Kris catches himself arching up to keep their lips locked and thinks, well, that answers that.

Hands cupping Kris' face, Lambert smirks. "And Katy wins."

Kris whimpers.

Lambert kisses his neck, under his ear, and then comes back to his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip until it stings.

It takes a long time for Kris' hands to settle - there's just so much skin. But when they do, he finds that touching a man is different - a bigger, more muscular body under his fingers - but it's not bad or even weird.

In fact, the way his palms slide down Lambert's back feels kind of right.

Lambert grinds down, pressing their erections together, making Kris cry out and roll his hips, his hands tightening on Lambert's arms. "Oh, yes," Lambert says. "Tiny and strong. Where have you been all my life?"

Kris groans. "I was looming in the bushes, waiting to steal your panties."

Lambert chuckles. "You can have them," he says, pushing up on an elbow and placing one of Kris' hands on the button of his jeans. "In fact, I insist."

Kris undoes his fly with unsteady fingers.

10

There are no pink satin panties under the jeans, but Kris can't say he's disappointed at what he finds instead.

"Yeah, sorry," Lambert says, breathless, "my last pair was stolen by some other cute Arkansas boy, so I had to go commando."

It's fascinating to have somebody else's dick in his hand, so Kris takes his time studying it, feeling along the length, the head, how it fits in his palm...

"Just like yours?"

Kris looks up, concentration broken, and realizes that he's been kind of torturing the guy. "Uh, no," he says, "not exactly."

Lambert smirks and unbuttons Kris' jeans, battling with his boxers to pull his cock out. It's for science, Kris thinks vaguely, pushing into Lambert's hand. It's so that they can compare. Not that Lambert seems interested in that kind of in depth study; he wraps his hand around Kris' erection - tight and perfect - and starts jerking him off. Only, it's not at all like what jerking off should feel like. Kris should know, he did that in the shower just this morning. There's something about Lambert's hands - or his eyes - or the way he's holding himself above Kris, so perfectly in control...

Or it could be the alcohol.

"Or," Lambert tells him, "it could be that I'm a guy, and you are gay."

He does something awesome with his wrist just then and Kris ends up moaning his agreement.

"Or," Lambert says, sounding more thoughtful now, "it could be that I'm a sex god."

Kris rolls his eyes and pulls him down into another long, wet, filthy kiss.

~

Kris wakes up alone, and it takes him a while to figure out why that feels weird. When he does remember what happened the night before, he pulls the covers over his head, whimpers quietly, and lets himself panic a little. It takes him a good fifteen minutes to get his breathing back under control, at which point he feels confident enough to throw the covers off; he ignores the used condoms on the floor and walks straight to the bathroom for a shower.

Hot water turns him back into a human, and it helps a bit with the headache, and after careful consideration, Kris decides to go ahead and call room service. It's not like Lambert is going to mind the cost.

(He does feel bad about it afterwards though, and leaves a twenty on the coffee table.)

He's fed, dressed, and looking for his phone when he notices the note on the bedside table. It's a folded sheet of fancy hotel stationary that says Kris in Lambert's handwriting (you don't stalk celebrities and not learn weird shit about them) and there's a red lacy thing under it.

Kris picks the note up and unfolds it.

You can have the panties if you want. I'm sure Larry would love them. Or you can drop by tomorrow night, and we'll work on our trust issues.

I'm thinking handcuffs.

Kris doesn't even have to think about it.

He leaves the panties where they are.

His mom would be proud.

 

Claim

How about Kris gets turned into a werewolf, werewolves instinctively mate for life, turns out Katy is not his mate so they have to get divorced, Kris gives her the house and goes to stay with Adam who he hasn't seen since before he got turned, he walks in and immediately realises Adam is his mate....

For the "Fantasy & Supernatural: Werewolves" square in my AU Bingo card.

1

Adam hears the door unlock and his stomach clenches nervously.

Kris is early, but Adam should have expected that. They've been talking every night since the incident and Adam knows how much Kris wanted - needed - to get out of that house. (Getting out of the house has been their code for getting away from Katy.) Adam has been doing his best to be the friend Kris desperately needs; planning, organizing, offering advice and being there every time Kris calls, but now that they're about to meet face to face, he finds that, just for one moment, he has to let his guard down and let himself panic - or he's going to explode. He braces his hands on the kitchen counter and lets himself hyperventilate a little, get it out of his system before Kris' footsteps come closer.

He's done surprisingly quickly. He takes one last deep breath and stands back up, ready to report for duty, but when he listens closely, there are no footsteps.

"Kris?"

He finds Kris still standing in the hall. His bag is on the floor next to his feet, and he's facing the wall, forehead resting against it. He's breathing hard - like he ran all the way or something.

"Kris. Are you okay?"

"Don't," Kris says, voice hoarse. "Don't come any closer."

Adam freezes. He's seen Kris angry, disappointed, sad - but he's never heard that tone of voice from him before. It's almost... scary.

Kris had said Katy was scared of him now, but Adam hadn't really believed it. Now - now he gets it. There's something deeper in Kris' voice, something wilder... feral.

But it's still Kris. And Adam refuses to be afraid.

"Look at me," he says. "Tell me what's wrong."

It takes Kris a moment to turn around. He looks like he's fighting with himself - going against his instincts. Adam hopes the instincts aren't telling him to eat his best friend, but even so, he would trust Kris. He knows Kris would always protect him, even from himself.

"Come on," Adam says, watching him turn around, bit by bit, hands fisted by his sides and his chest rising and falling with every breath. "Let me help."

Kris lets out a low chuckle. "You can't help with this one."

Adam doesn't know what's going on, but he's been helping Kris fight the depression, the fear, the self-hatred, and every other difficulty this condition has brought into his life. There's no way in hell he's going to give up now.

"Try me."

Kris looks up at him through his lashes, and Adam is suddenly struck with how much things have changed in just a matter of months. Kris used to look innocent when he did that. Bashful.

Not vicious.

"I don't think I can stay with you," he says, biting off each word.

"What? Why?"

Kris' nostrils flare and he shuts his eyes. "We have a problem."

2

"What... uh. What do you mean I smell right?" Adam asks, feeling stupid.

Kris' lips twitch, almost as if he's holding back a sneer. "I mean - you smell right. In the way that Katy didn't."

"Oh," Adam says, dumbfounded. "Is that like." He shakes his head. He has so many questions - so many stupid questions. "Are you sure?"

Kris chuckles humorlessly. "Oh yeah," he says. "I'm pretty sure."

"But... I'm the wrong gender."

Kris chuckles again and lets one side of his lips curl up. The expression looks strange on his face. It's not like Kris never smirks, he does, but the look in his eyes is brand new. Adam would have remembered if Kris had ever looked at him that way. Like he wants to eat Adam - and not in the literal sense.

"Trust me," Kris says, voice low and scratchy, "there's nothing wrong about you."

"Oh."

3

"You should go," Kris tells him after a moment's silence. He looks determined, nodding firmly, standing his ground. "Use the fire escape and just go."

"What- Are you crazy? I'm not running away."

"Adam," Kris says, warning. "I'm not kidding. You have to go. Now. I would leave, but-" He makes a face, half apologetic, half pained. "I don't think I can."

This is madness. This is just sheer madness. Adam raises his hands up and takes a cautious step towards Kris. "You know I'm not leaving you, so you might as well stop wasting your time."

Kris swears under his breath.

"Now," Adam says, "tell me how this works."

Kris kicks the wall. "I don't know how this works!" he yells. "I don't fucking know, okay?"

Adam licks his lips, breathes deep, and takes another step.

"All I know is that - I can - It's -" He looks up at Adam, desperate. "It's inside me, and I can tell. I don't..." He shakes his head as if to clear his mind. "I don't even know what it is I can tell. Adam. This is crazy."

Kris has beautiful eyes. Adam has always thought so. He loves it when they open wide with wonder and surprise, when they shine with happiness and pride, twinkle with mischief. Seeing them painted a darker shade with confusion and pain is so - surreal.

Adam should've known it was worse than Kris was letting on. This has to be killing Kris - to be wound so tight all the time, trying to control a part of himself that's struggling to come out. It is unnatural and Adam doubts Kris can keep doing that for long. Kris doesn't do conflict, not with other people and certainly not within himself.

There has to be a way to live with this; one that doesn't mean sacrificing everything that makes Kris Kris.

"Maybe- Maybe if you stop keeping it separate, you'd be able to understand better?"

Kris stares at him, looking puzzled.

"You can feel it inside you?" Adam prompts.

"Yes?"

"But you're not letting it become a part of you?"

Kris shakes his head. "No. I can't- What if- You don't understand-"

Adam takes another step. He's almost close enough to touch now. He can smell Kris' sweat. "What?" he asks softly.

"You want me to let myself become a monster?"

Adam shakes his head. "You could never-"

"This isn't some 'embrace you inner self' thing! This is - this is unnatural! It's dangerous!"

Adam grabs Kris' wrist. He pries open Kris' fist and laces their fingers together. He doesn't know if it works on Kris, but it at least makes Adam feel better. "When people say that about me - you tell them to go fuck themselves."

"That's not the same thing!"

"It kinda is."

Adam takes one last step and leans his forehead against Kris'. Kris shivers and squeezes Adam's fingers hard enough to hurt.

"I'm here. Whatever happens."

Kris whimpers.

"Stop fighting it. It's not full moon; you won't hurt anyone. Just close your eyes and let yourself really feel it."

Kris releases a shaky breath.

"And tell me," Adam says.

Looking for all the world like he's about to be hanged, Kris gives Adam a tentative nod and closes his eyes.

4

There is no clock in the house, but Adam could swear he hears ticking. Seconds pass by impossibly slow; tick tock. Adam focuses on Kris' breathing, in and out, carefully regulated, and prays quietly.

He's going to kick his own ass if his brilliant idea makes things worse.

It feels like all muscles in Kris' body are tightly clenched, so with nothing else to do, Adam puts his hands to good use. He lets his thumb brush back and forth on Kris' hand, and hugs him with one arm, his hand running the length of Kris' back.

It takes a while, but Kris finally relaxes. He slumps forward, and his head falls on Adam's shoulder. It's a familiar embrace. Adam pulls him closer for a more comfortable fit and it almost feels like they went back in time a couple of years.

Holding Kris in his arms has never been awkward; from day one, it's felt natural and easy - and right - and it's no different this time. Adam's body wants to start swaying and dance with Kris, to some secret music only the two of them can hear, but before his subconscious has a chance to take over, Kris' breathing begins to quicken, his chest rising and falling rapidly against Adam's.

"Kris?" Adam says tentatively. He doesn't want to disturb whatever's going on inside Kris, but he feels useless, and to be completely honest, he's scared shitless.

Kris lets out a moan - and not a nice one either. He turns his face into Adam's neck, hiding it there. Adam panics.

"Kris- are you-"

"'m fine."

"Okay," Adam says, taking deep calming breaths. "Talk to me. Tell me."

"It feels- I feel... unsettled."

Adam runs a hand through the back of Kris' hair. "I know. But that's normal, isn't it? Considering everything that's changed? Changing?"

"I don't- I'm not sure. It could be. But it's like... this niggling feeling. A constant annoyance under my skin."

"Okay," Adam says. They can deal with annoyance. Annoyance is nothing. "What else?"

"My hou- Katy's house-" Kris' voice breaks; Adam drops a soft kiss on his temple. "It felt completely wrong. It felt- not- not like enemy- nothing dangerous- but it felt- alien. Not compatible. And Katy- she smelled..."

"Wrong." Adam says it for him. He can imagine just how much Kris hates saying that.

"Yeah," Kris says, sounding relieved. "Like she didn't belong to me. I kept looking at our rings; they didn't mean anything. They were just jewelry and Katy wasn't mine." He pulls away just enough to look Adam in the eye. "And more importantly - I wasn't hers. I can't be. She's not... right."

What could anyone say to that, Adam wonders. "Okay," he says. "It'll be okay."

Kris shakes his head no. "This place," he says, "this place feels - incomplete. Like it needs something. Like maybe it could be home - like I could - Adam - I..."

"Sssh," Adam says, rocking him a little. "Calm down."

Kris shivers and tries to get closer even though there is no room.

"I am calm," Kris says, though the trembling of his arms betray him. "This is the calmest I've been in weeks, trust me. I feel... safe, right now. I feel... much better."

"Okay," Adam says, "then we'll stay here. Like this."

Kris laughs. It's a weak laugh, but it's still better than nothing. "For how long?" he asks. "I can't stay with you. That won't work."

"Why not?" Kris is a werewolf and Adam is a fucking rock star who would turn the world upside down to make him happy. There is nothing they can't do.

"Because," Kris drawls. He sounds annoyed, and that for some reason makes Adam smile. "Because what's calming me down is this - the scent - the two of us, together... and that is not my body's way of telling me we'd make great roommates."

5

Adam's mind is busy putting together scenarios of how they can handle this, but as always, Kris picks the worst one and runs with it.

"This is good," he says. "I think this is helping. I'm feeling much better. I think I'll be okay to leave in a bit. I'll get a hotel room, and then we can talk this out on the phone. It's the scent that's getting-"

"Oh, shut up," Adam interrupts him. "You're not going anywhere."

Kris takes a step back and gives Adam an exasperated look. Adam holds onto his wrist, just in case.

"You're not getting this. My body thinks you're my mate."

Adam actually did get that part. He's just not clear on the details.

"And what does that mean exactly? What do you need from me?"

Kris' nostrils start flaring again and he flushes a pretty pink color all the way down to his chest. Adam wonders vaguely if he'll come out and say it. If it's just sex, Adam is pretty sure they can work with that, but if Kris can't even say it... then they have bigger problems.

"I need you to stop being difficult and help me-"

Adam rolls his eyes. Of course Kris won't just say it.

"Is it just sex?" Adam asks. "Do you think you'll be able to go back to your life if we have sex?"

Kris looks shocked and it takes him a moment to start breathing again. "What-"

"I know you don't like this, and I'm sorry, but if it's going to help you function- go back to work, go back home, then we can-"

Kris snarls. Adam stops mid-sentence, squinting at the strange expression on his face.

"I'm not sure but-" Kris pauses to chuckle. "It's a guess, 'cause I don't have a manual handy, but I don't believe anyone's going anywhere if we have sex."

Adam licks his lips nervously. "Does that mean werewolves eat their mates after sex or something?"

Kris rolls his eyes. "Probably would have been easier if that were the case."

"Thanks," Adam says dryly.

"It's not like getting a fix," Kris says. He sounds impatient, snappish. All that calming hugging for nothing, Adam thinks. "It's more like..."

"Like?"

"You shook hands with someone today," Kris says out of nowhere.

Adam blinks. "Yeah?"

"I can tell that, because I can smell him on you. And a part of me wants to track that scent and break that guy's arm, so he wouldn't be able to shake your hand again."

Adam swallows hard and makes himself nod once. "Oh."

"Yeah," Kris says. "Oh."

6

Of all the places to have this conversation, Kris had to choose the hallway. There's nowhere to sit, so Adam leans against the wall and considers their options.

Of which there are none, really.

"Will it make you happy?" he finds himself asking. He probably shouldn't, because if Kris says no, then it'll be a million times more painful to give in for both of them, but he's not ready to give up. He thinks he may never be.

Kris stares at him without blinking. Adam is starting to think he's not going to answer when he says, "That's not the point."

"Then what is the point?"

"The point is - this is my problem, not yours. And I'm not going to drag you into it."

And that's when Adam decides that maybe he should just tie Kris up instead of talking in circles with him. He stands up straight and steps into Kris' personal space, crowding him against the wall. "You don't get to tell me what to do," he says.

Kris' hands ball into tight fists. Adam wonders if he's about to get punched. Not that that's ever been reason enough to deter him.

"You just tell me what you need and I'll make up my own mind. Thanks."

"I won't let you sacrifice-"

"You think it would be a sacrifice?" Adam wants to laugh, because - isn't Kris supposed to smell this stuff now? He's a werewolf and somehow still clueless?

Kris shakes his head. "This isn't an experiment, Adam. This isn't just another relationship. I don't think breaking up will be an option-"

Adam never let himself contemplate how it would feel to kiss Kris. It felt too much of a betrayal - like he'd be wishing the end of Kris' marriage, and Adam would never ever do that. But the moment their lips meet - too uncoordinated for a decent kiss - Adam feels like they've done that before. Kris' lips feel familiar against his, perfectly soft and yielding, and Adam knows how his mouth would taste before Kris opens his lips.

It's disconcerting - but not in an entirely bad way.

Adam feels dizzy with it.

When he pulls back, Kris stays exactly where he is - against the wall, eyes shut. He doesn't even move to close his mouth.

Adam can't tell which one of them is trembling harder. At least Kris has the wolf to blame for his condition; Adam has no convenient excuse. He's just wanted this too much - for too long. He traces the line of Kris' jaw with a finger, contemplating the risk he's taking with this. Kris' instincts want him. The instincts Kris thinks make him a monster. Adam will do this, there is no question, but it might turn out to be as far from happily ever after as he can possibly get.

He hopes Kris won't hate him in the end. He's not sure if he'll ever be able to live with that.

"It's not a sacrifice," Adam says. "I don't need to be a werewolf to know that you're right for me."

He keeps his face neutral, like they're talking about the weather. Adam is a huge fan of sappy love declarations, but this time, the situation is just way too complicated for wine and rose petals. Kris would probably appreciate him being less romantic and more matter-of-fact for this.

"Now," Adam says firmly, "tell me what you need."

7

Kris' eyes are shut tight, but his face is turned up eagerly, his lips following Adam every time he draws back. Adam feels high. He doesn't particularly want to think - he wants to forget why they're here, why Kris is with him, and he just wants to keep kissing, stretch this torturous foreplay out for as long as he can.

And he would, too, if it weren't for the sounds Kris keeps making. Needy little whimpers that Adam just can't ignore.

"Tell me," Adam says, kissing down Kris' neck.

Kris arches into his touch and moans.

Adam can feel Kris' erection against his thigh, so he pushes harder, reaches down between them to press the heel of his hand against it. He has ways of making Kris talk.

Kris shudders against him and comes.

Or that, Adam thinks. Make him talk or come; they both work.

"Oh God," Kris whispers. "Oh. Oh, God."

"Sssh, it's okay," Adam says. "You'll be just fine."

Kris shakes his head, jerky and frantic, and looks ready to bolt. "Don't let me do this. I don't want you to have to-"

Kris is confused and clearly out of his mind with worry, and God only knows whatever's going on inside his body, and Adam feels like if he doesn't put a stop to this, Kris is going to give himself a heart attack. He grabs a hold of Kris' arms and presses him against the wall, hard enough to hurt, hard enough to make him realize that Adam is in charge now and he better do as he's told.

"Stop panicking for one moment and listen to me," he says. "You were there. You know this." He looks into Kris' eyes, begging him to let himself see what they've trained themselves not to see all this time. "We were always right together. You know that."

Kris doesn't nod, but he doesn't protest either.

"And I loved you from day one."

Kris exhales, like he just got the wind knocked out of him.

Adam nods. "I did. I do. Even when I knew I shouldn't." Kris opens his mouth as if he means to say something, and Adam waits, but nothing comes out except more rapid breathing. "I don't know how this works," he babbles. "And I hope it won't make you unhappy - I never want you to be unhappy - but I'm not sacrificing anything. I've always wanted you more than I should."

Kris' eyes look softer, less panicked. Adam can't exactly tell what's going on in his mind, but he'd put his money on something between pity and relief.

"I need you," Kris says in a low, serious voice. "I want you."

It's not a passionate declaration, more like an announcement, but Adam feels his heart trip in response anyway. He catches Kris' lips in a deep, hard, bruising kiss, and then pulls back to ask, "How?"

Kris tells him in excruciating detail.

8

Adam wants to get it right so badly that for the first time in a very, very long time he manages to be awkward during sex.

Not that Kris notices. Kris is gone, melted, happily squirming between the bed and Adam, letting Adam take the lead. Adam didn't expect that. He thought Kris would be more dominant in bed, that the wolf would take over, but the wolf seems content with being petted and taken care of for now.

It's turning Adam on like crazy.

Adam reaches towards the bedside table to grab a condom and almost knocks over the lamp when Kris licks his nipple. Kris does it again, and then nuzzles his chest, humming into his skin.

"You smell like me now," he mumbles.

Adam isn't surprised. There has been a lot of - touching - and licking. And some sucking. Kris is eager to get his hands and his mouth on any and all parts of Adam's body.

"Okay," Adam says stupidly, fumbling with the condom wrapper.

Kris frowns up at him. "No," he says taking the condom from him and throwing it away. "No condoms."

Adam blinks. "That's not safe."

"You're sleeping with a werewolf, that's not safe."

"But-"

Kris caresses the side of his face. Adam closes his eyes and sighs. This is - just so - he has no defenses against this.

"I know you don't do that," Kris says. "But you know you're clean and you know I'm clean - and I really need you to come inside me."

Adam groans and looks down at Kris. He isn't even blushing. Adam is not going to survive this. Not if Kris keeps talking like that.

"You want me on my stomach?" Kris asks, and smiles when Adam chokes on his breath. "I'll take that as a yes."

He turns around in Adam's arms, wiggling to get comfortable. Adam bites his lip almost hard enough to draw blood and pushes two fingers back inside Kris - making sure he won't hurt him.

Kris moans and presses back. "Now. Please."

With one last deep breath, Adam slides inside him.

9

It doesn't take long.

Kris is hot and tight - and no, Adam is not thinking about anyone's virginity, or he's going to lose his mind - and this is basically a wedding ceremony. Claiming, Kris called it. It's for life. Forever. And considering the fact that Adam's been wanting this for a long, long time...

So yes. It's over faster than Adam would have liked. But that's okay, because Kris doesn't seem to mind - judging by all the moaning - and when he reaches back to pull Adam's head down towards his shoulder, Adam just gets what he wants. No need for words. He runs his tongue over the sweaty skin right in front of him, between Kris' shoulder and neck, and then closes his mouth over it and bites.

Kris growls, low and dangerous, like a trapped animal, and when his body arches, Adam snakes a hand between him and the bed, wrapping his fingers around Kris' erection to stroke him.

"Yes," Kris moans and pushes into Adam's hand. Adam tightens his fingers and jerks him off faster, releasing his neck to lick the indentations his teeth left behind. "Again," Kris says in a hoarse voice, so Adam moves a little higher and bites again. He sucks hard; he wants to mark Kris where everyone will see - or maybe he thinks Kris will want to be marked where everyone will see; it's hard to tell when he's pretty sure they want the same things for similar reasons. "Yes," Kris moans again, prompting Adam to bite harder, still not drawing blood, but it's sure to leave a hell of a bruise - and with his next breath, he shudders and comes all over Adam's hand.

~

Adam almost doesn't want to slide off of Kris, but when Kris turns around and cuddles close, he thinks maybe this is even better than being on top of him. He pushes back the sweaty hair off Kris' forehead and rubs a finger on his slack bottom lip.

"So beautiful," he says.

Kris opens his eyes.

Sex heightens feelings. Adam knows that. He makes it a point not to have any kind of relationship talk right after sex, but this - this is different. This is a whole new level. And maybe he can't smell what Kris is feeling or whatever, but he knows his own feelings, and right now, he's feeling everything.

He has no idea how to even begin to try and put that into words, but he wants to try. He wants to write songs about it. He wants to tell everyone. He wants a few bruises of his own to show off.

"It will make me happy," Kris mumbles, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Adam grins. "Yeah?"

"Yes," Kris says, stealing a quick kiss. "And not just because..."

"The werewolf thing," Adam finishes for him.

"The werewolf thing." Kris nods. "You're right," he says. "I was there. I do know. I just didn't think..."

"It's okay." Adam brushes a kiss on the corner of Kris' lips, then on his cheek, and his eyelids. Kris sighs and lets him take his time, giving him free reign.

When Adam pulls back, content to watch Kris' face and rest a little bit, Kris pulls Adam's hand up to his lips and methodically licks Adam's fingers clean of his own come.

No resting then, Adam thinks. He's okay with that plan as well.

"Your hand smells like me now," Kris says happily.

Adam gives him a disbelieving look. "This is going to be a problem, isn't it?"

"Not if you don't touch other people," Kris says, biting the side of Adam's hand softly.

Adam raises an eyebrow at him. What's he going to tell people, that he's a germaphobe?

"Or we can try and have sex every morning, so you always smell like me," Kris offers.

Adam pretends to consider it. "I suppose it's worth a try."

"Mmm-hmm," Kris agrees, tonguing the skin between Adam's fingers.

Adam settles down to watch him do that. It's sort of hypnotic. And very, very sexy.

Kris has licked every finger clean, twice, when he finally pauses and says, "I want to come on you next time, is that okay?"

Adam moans, helplessly turned on. Again. Already.

"Yeah," he chokes out, pulling Kris close and licking the bruise on his neck. "That would be perfect."

 

Sleepy

Sleepy Adam ends up accidentally saying something revealing in front of Kris, which leads to a kiss (and/or more). (Or the other way around, if it works better for your muse)

For the "Sleepy Times" square in my Schmoop Bingo card.

~

"Come on, you," Kris says, pulling at Adam's arm to drag him up.

Adam groans, but doesn't move.

Kris prods at his shoulder.

"Comfy," Adam mumbles.

"The couch will kill your back," Kris informs him. "You won't be able to stand up straight tomorrow."

"Hmm," Adam says.

"And the cushions are going to leave swirly marks on your face," Kris tells him.

Adam doesn't even twitch.

"I don't think you can cover those with make-up, man. It's not gonna be pretty."

"Mmm, you'll love me anyway," Adam mumbles, snuggling in deeper into the couch.

Kris sits down on the coffee table and blinks at him.

Adam snores.

~

"My cheek is all swirly."

"Hmm," Kris says, sipping from his coffee. It's good coffee. He went out to get it - since he couldn't sleep a wink last night and was up with dawn.

"I can't even cover this up with make-up. How am I supposed to go out like this?"

Adam puts down the banana he got from the fridge on the table and takes Kris' cup from his hand to drink half of it.

"Ah," he says. "Perfect."

"Yes," Kris says, noncommittally, taking his cup back and going back to his paper.

Adam takes his usual chair and peels his banana. "I can't believe you let me sleep on the couch."

"I tried, man. You wouldn't budge."

Adam pouts down at his fruit.

"I even told you about the swirly cushion."

"You did not."

Kris nods. "I did. And you didn't care, because apparently I love you even when you're not pretty."

Kris swallows hard and keeps his eyes on the paper, heart going a mile a minute. That's not how he was supposed to do this, but he's always been terrible at sticking to plans. He waits for Adam to laugh it off - they could laugh it off and ignore it, like they've ignored these things in the past - but Adam doesn't say a word.

When Kris looks up, he finds Adam staring at him, looking serious and nervous.

So they're not going to laugh this one off then. Okay.

"I would, by the way," Kris says, his voice just a little wobbly. "But you're always pretty, so it's not really an issue."

Adam opens his mouth, looking confused, but then closes it again without a sound. They stare at each other, frozen, and then - Adam grins, sudden and impossibly bright, making Kris release the breath he could swear he had already released a couple of minutes ago.

"You think I'm pretty," Adam teases, scooting closer with his chair. Kris would chide him for scratching the floor, but yeah. He really doesn't care right now.

"That wasn't the point," Kris says, licking his lips nervously.

"Oh yes," Adam says, leaning closer - close enough that his breath brushes Kris' lips. "You love me."

"Yes," Kris breathes.

He waits. Adam just stares at him with a strange little smile on his face.

"And?" Kris prompts. "I think you're supposed to-"

Adam leans in and licks Kris' bottom lip.

"Oh," Kris says.

Adam kisses him again, harder, deeper, his hands guiding Kris' face for a better angle. When he pulls back, they're both breathing hard, and Kris' lips are stinging.

"I love you, too," Adam says and kisses him some more.

 

Birds and Bees

Kris' pet cockatoo keeps escaping to stalk his high-end executive neighbor. Like, seriously stalking. (It follows him to the other side of LA to his skyscraper office.) Cue adorably bumbling apologies and repeated effort to detach lovesick bird from Adam's hair. Also phone conversation!

Adam: It has my ear.
Kris: Oh. Yeah. He, um, does that? When he's lonely.
Adam: Well, that's okay I gue--
Kris: Or hungry. Or sleepy. Or bored. Or teething, sort of.
Adam: Sort of?
Kris: It's good for his beak.
Adam: I'msendingacabgetoverhererightnow.

~

“Is she there?” Kris breathes into the phone, panting. He's been running around the block, hoping Jackie was just perched on a tree somewhere, watching the neighborhood kids play. She does that sometimes. She likes kids; they wear colorful clothes.

“Hello, Kristopher,” Adam Lambert says, and his tone speaks volumes. Jackie's there alright. “Would you like me to put her on?”

“Uh, no,” Kris says. “I'm really sorry. I don't know why she keeps coming over to your place-”

“Just- get her out of my hair. Now.”

Lambert hangs up on him. Kris winces. Crap.

~

“Oh,” Kris says. “When you said out of your hair, I didn't realize you meant that literally.”

Lambert glares at him.

“I think she likes the color,” Kris offers, daring to take a step inside. “She likes bright things.”

“And here I thought she was a fan,” Lambert says.

“She is, actually,” Kris says, nodding. “She sings along to your songs.”

Lambert’s glare grows in intensity. Kris didn’t know that was possible. “Awesome. Did you train her to track my scent as well?”

“What? I didn’t-” Kris throws up his hands. “Your songs come on the radio a lot. How is that my fault?”

“Of course it’s not your fault. It’s all just a coincidence, isn’t it?”

“It is!”

Lambert sighs. “Can't you just call her or something?”

“That's not gonna work.” Kris shakes his head. “Let me try...” He steps closer and strokes two fingers down Jackie's back. “Come on, girl,” he says softly. “Let's go home.”

Jackie squawks at him and grabs a lock of magenta hair possessively.

“Ow,” Lambert says.

“Crap.” Kris shrugs. “She's not violent or anything. She just... likes you.”

“Oh, that’s priceless,” Lambert mumbles. “She likes me.”

Kris thinks about trying to grab her, but she has claws and she's not afraid to use them. “Okay, how about...” he says, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans. “Do you have anything sparkly? Colorful?”

Lambert gives him a look.

“Right,” Kris says. “Of course you do.”

Lambert sighs. “Bedroom.”

~

Kris knows his way to the bedroom, though he’d never seen the closet. He hadn’t been there long enough the last time. Apparently, Adam Lambert's closet is larger than Kris' whole apartment, and when he hits the lights, it gleams like something out of a fairytale.

“Wow,” Kris says.

Lambert makes a dismissive sound, like it's not a big deal, but when Kris turns to look at him, he catches a look of pride in his eyes.

Jackie seems dazed. She sways a little on Lambert's head, looking down at the magenta hair and then into the closet, torn, but in the end, the closet wins, and she leaves Lambert's hair to fly over to a shelf where a pink, glittery something is on display.

She rubs her beak against the fabric and coos.

Kris covers his laugh with a cough. “Well, that worked.”

Lambert, suddenly awakened from his trance, gasps and runs over to the mirror to check his hair. Then he gasps again, hands hovering over his head, not sure where to land.

“My hair. Oh, God.”

“It's okay,” Kris says, “just a feather or two. We'll fix it right up.”

Lambert looks ready to cry, and angry at him or not, Kris finds that he still can’t stand to see that look on his face. He starts pulling the feathers out, straightening the strands Jackie messed up, and if he sneaks in a couple of caresses, it’s not like anyone can tell.

“See,” he says. “Good as new.”

Lambert pouts at him and hands him a brush.

“Oh, okay,” Kris says, taking it from him. He doesn't tell Lambert he hasn't used a brush in years. How hard can it be? You just- place it on your head and brush.

Lambert is even taller than Kris remembers, so Kris has to reach up a little bit, but it's okay, he handles it like a pro. It's even kind of soothing, the repetitive motion of the brush going through hair - and Lambert has really nice hair. Clean, and thick, and it smells nice... and Kris likes the way the magenta peaks through the black. It's... nice.

Then he remembers how it felt to hold onto that hair while Ada—Lambert did sinful things with his tongue, and pauses.

He never should’ve come here. He should’ve sent Cale or something. Stupid.

When Lambert takes the brush from his hand, Kris starts - almost gasps. “Oh,” he says. “We're done?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“Look, Lambert-”

“So I’m Lambert now-”

“Don’t be-”

“Hurt? Pissed? Why not? I have every right to be!”

“You never called me back!” Kris says, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come you get to be hurt?”

“Did you hit your head?” Lam—Adam asks. “I called you. I asked you on a date. A real date where you would leave the bird at home and we would have dinner this time before fucking each other’s brains out. And you said-”

“I said I’ll call you back. And I did. The same day. I left a message with Lacey-”

“Stacy,” Adam corrects him.

“-and she made it clear that you were very busy and may not be able to get back to me. Which you didn’t. So I figured that I was just another guy who you randomly met and wanted to ditch.”

Adam stares at him, looking confused, and then he grabs his phone and mumbles, “I’m so firing her ass...”

Kris watches him fumble with the touch screen, swearing under his breath, and thinks – wow. So Adam Lambert didn’t ditch him after a night of amazing sex? That’s... unexpected. “So I wasn’t just some random guy...?”

Adam rolls his eyes. “We met because your cockatoo broke into my place. That’s pretty random.”

“No, I meant-”

“I know what you meant.”

They stare at each other, Adam’s phone forgotten in his hand, and it’s nerve-racking, distressing, breath-stealing – until Adam snaps and grabs Kris’ face and shoves his tongue down Kris’ throat.

Then it’s just hot. And Kris doesn’t complain.

“You are so stupid,” Adam tells him in between kisses. “You thought I wouldn’t call you? Why wouldn’t I call you?”

Kris shrugs. “It was just sex.”

Adam snorts. “That was not just sex. It was incredible sex-” He nips at Kris’ bottom lip. “-with a very cute guy-” A tug. “-who likes making out in the mornings-” A lick. “-and sings Beatles songs in the shower.”

Kris blushes.

“So,” Adam says. “Do-over. Date? Tonight?”

Kris nods – even though he’d promised the guys they would jam tonight. It’s just really hard not to say yes when Adam’s looking at him like that. “Dinner?”

“Yes,” Adam confirms, “and then a lot of sex.”

“Okay.” Kris nods again.

Adam kisses under his ear, like a promise, and pulls back.

“And Kristopher?”

“Yes?”

“The cockatoo’s not invited.”

~

Inside the closet, Jackie completes her nest with a sparkly Chanel shirt and snuggles in.

It’s perfect. She’s never leaving that shelf.

 

Exotic

Alien conqueror!Adam (from Planet Fierce) takes over earth and takes the human Kris to be his mate.

~

"What do you mean no?" the alien says, looking taken aback.

Kris shrugs. "Thanks, but no thanks?"

"You can't say no to me!" He looks like he wants to stomp his foot. "I'm the king. You'll do as I say!"

Kris gives him an apologetic look. It must be hard, being away from your own planet. "We don't really do royalty here," he explains. "Unless you count the king of pop."

"King of...?" The alien sits down on the steps of his spaceship, his sparkly cape brushing the ground. "I don't understand," he says, shoulders slumped. "I came all this way..."

Kris sighs. He's a sucker for pouts. And sad blue eyes. Even if they belong to alien kings intent on kidnapping him.

He sits down next to the alien and pats his back gently. "It's okay. I hog the covers anyway."

The alien sniffles sadly.

Lambent

Kris finds a lamp that contains an extremely opinionated genie (Adam) who answers Kris' wishes in glittery, unexpected ways?

For the "Disney" square in my AU Bingo card.

1

Kris blinks at the lamp in his hand and tries not to think about how the six foot guy fit into it.

Six foot, sparkly guy. Wearing bright pink harem pants.

"So I get- three wishes?"

The guy nods, and then points to Kris' shirt. "We should start with the clothes."

Kris takes a step back.

2

"You mean a palace?" the genie asks.

Kris shakes his head. "No. I mean a house. Just a regular house - but with no leaks or mortgages. A sturdy house that's all theirs."

The genie looks at him like that's the most boring request he's ever heard.

It probably is, but Kris stands his ground. He's always wanted to buy his parents a new house. He raises his eyebrow at the genie and crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn't think he can wait out a three-millenia-old creature, but given the chance, he'll probably try.

The genie sighs and snaps his fingers.

"There," he says sulkily.

~

When Kris rubs the lamp the next day, his hand is shaking.

"I said I didn't want a palace!" he hisses at the guy when he materializes.

His make-up is different today, more blue and turquoise around his eyes to match his new outfit. And it looks like he dyed a part of his hair blue as well. Kris figures that's what you do when you're stuck in a lamp all day every day.

That, and screw up people's wishes.

"It's not a palace."

Kris glares.

"Okay, it's more like a mansion?"

"It has thirty rooms," Kris tells him.

"Nothing wrong with some extra space--"

"And one of them is full of rubies!"

The genie smirks. "Most mansions have a treasure chamber. You didn't specify the design."

"You're just so--!"

"Handsome?" the genie offers. "Witty? Sparkly?"

"Annoying."

The genie pouts and flutters his eyelashes sadly. Blue glitter rains down on his cheeks.

3

The genie, who Kris can't bring himself to think of as Adam - what kind of a name is that for a genie anyway? - seems to adapt to the times surprisingly well.

Three days in, he knows how to work Kris' coffee machine. On day five, he discovers Starbucks.

"Mmm-hmm-mmmmmm," he moans into his cup, eyes half-lidded.

Kris stops in the doorway and stares.

Should he go back into his bedroom? It does look like the genie and the cup need some alone time together.

Before he can decide, the genie notices him. "Kristopher!" he says, his face lighting up. "You want some of this? It's a Cinnamon Dolce Crème Frappuccino." He carefully enunciates the name and then takes another sip- "Mmmmmmmmmmmmm."

Kris coughs, and then chokes, and then coughs some more.

"I don't- I- I'm good."

The genie shrugs. "More for me," he says, and tapping a finger gently on the side of the cup, he magically fills it again.

"About my second wish," Kris says, fidgeting. He's been thinking a lot about this, and he's ninety-nine percent sure that the genie won't like it - but he has to try.

"Yes," the genie says, sitting up from his wild sprawl on the couch. "I'm all ears."

"I'd like to help sick people," Kris says.

The genie tilts his head. "Sick people? As in..."

"...all the sick people?" Kris tries.

The genie rolls his eyes. "No."

"Why not? It's my wish, I get to do what I like with it!"

"There are rules." The genie shrugs. "Rules to make sure you don't screw up the balance of the world."

"Oh, and the rubies didn't screw with the-"

"A couple of rubies will hardly make a difference."

"A couple-?!"

"All right, a couple hundred, whatever. That's not the point. The point is, you can't wish things for or about people you have never met. It has to be personal. You don't get to say world peace and be done with it."

Kris slumps on the other end of the couch. This is so stupid.

The genie gives him a look - almost worried - but then forgets about him and starts cooing into his cup.

"Mmmmm-hmm."

4

Kris summons the genie around midnight. The kids are all asleep and the night nurse has dozed off in front of the TV.

"Well, hello, Kristopher," the genie says loudly as soon as he's out. Kris puts a hand over his mouth to shush him.

"Nmm-mmm-hmm?" the genie asks.

"Sssh," Kris says, pulling his hand away. "You'll wake everyone."

The genie looks around. "Why are we in the hospital?" he asks, sounding worried. "Are you sick?"

Kris shakes his head. He's not sick. He's a bit nervous and a lot tired, and he's determined. The genie - Adam - had said personal, and Kris is ready to give him personal. He hopes.

"For my second wish, I want them to get better."

Adam sighs. "Kris, I told you, that's not how it-"

"No, I know. It's okay, I know them all." He gestures to the first bed by the door. "Jay wants to be a pilot when he grows up. Hannah has two mommies. Greg is six, but he's pretending to be seven, because Jennifer-" he points to Jennifer, who's sleeping in the bed by the window, "won't date him if he's younger than her."

He looks up at Adam to see if it's working, but for once, Adam's face gives nothing away.

"I know them," Kris tells him. "We played today, and we sang together." He runs over to the cute redhead with the freckles, Elizabeth Anne Wilder, snuggled in with her stuffed bunny. "Beth wants me to teach her how to play the guitar. She wants to write songs and be a super star. And if she ever does get famous, Susan will do her hair and make-up for her."

Kris licks his lips nervously. Adam still seems frozen in his spot.

"She wants pink glitter on her eyelids?" Kris offers. Adam does like his glitter, so maybe that will win him over.

There's a long pause, the silence only broken by the deep breathing of the kids, until Adam finally says, "Kristopher Allen," and motions for him to step closer.

Kris takes a deep breath and walks over. He's not sure if this is a good sign or a bad sign, but at least it seems to be done either way. It has been a very long day for him. One way or another, he just wants to go home to his bed now.

"Yes?" he says, looking up at Adam, braced for bad news.

Adam stares down at him fondly. "Tell me your wish."

"I wish... for these kids..." He closes his eyes and thinks hard. "Beth, and Jennifer, Hannah, Greg, Jay, Susan, Candice, Robbie, Jimmie, Ray, Kathrine, Dan, Will, and Paula... to get better." He opens his eyes, going over the names once more in his mind, making sure he hasn't gotten any of them wrong - and then notices the look on Adam's face.

He'd thought Adam looked fondly amused before, which he does sometimes around Kris, but there's something else now - something Kris can't name...

"Look, you said I had to know them, and I wasn't sure what exactly that meant, but - this should be enough, right? I know a lot about them. I - I know about their parents and what foods they like - I - but they're kids, so they talk about random stuff, and I couldn't - "

"Kristopher."

"Yes," Kris says, swallowing the rest of his babbling.

"You did good." He leans down to press a kiss on Kris' forehead. His lips feel warm, and sticky with lip gloss.

Kris hears him snap his fingers.

5

Adam is a terrible roommate.

There are clothes all over Kris' living room, the TV is constantly on, and plates of leftover food and empty coffee cups litter the floor. Adam keeps summoning stuff with the snap of his fingers, but for some inexplicable reason, he doesn't ever 'snap' anything back to where they belong when he's done.

And then there’s the channel surfing. Adam blinks and there’s a new channel. And then he blinks again. And again. And again.

He probably has ADD. It drives Kris insane.

But still . . . he can't bring himself to send Adam away.

Kris doesn't care if the lamp is bigger on the inside - it's still a lamp. And Adam is alone when he goes there. Oh, he tries to put on a brave face, saying it's not all that lonely with his pet flees and how he's decorated the place like the most glamorous of palaces, but Kris could tell from the first moment they met which smile of Adam's was fake and which was genuine – it’s so obvious, the genuine ones light up the room – and the lamp . . . the lamp always brings out the most disturbing plastic smile.

"Breakfast?" Adam asks, eyes still on the screen, and Kris realizes that he summoned a box of bagels for him.

Adam is thoughtful like that.

Clearing one side of the couch, Kris takes a seat and grunts his thanks. The box is warm and the contents smell delicious. Having Adam around is almost like having his mom to cook for him. Adam just knows what he wants.

"You have to be at work in twenty minutes," Adam reminds him.

Kris nods, his mouth full. He's not worried; he can afford to be a little late for his shift. Ellen will cover for him.

"I could get the store shut down for the day?" Adam offers halfheartedly. "Gas leak?"

At least he's not offering to blow the place up anymore. As annoying as it is to go through the same spiel every morning, Kris can’t help but find it kind of charming now; Adam just really wants to hang out with him.

"Nah," he says. "I'll be back before you know it. And I'll bring back some DVDs."

Adam perks up. "The one with Han Solo?"

"Sure." Kris stuffs another bagel into his mouth and checks his pockets for his keys and wallet.

"Have a nice day at work, dear!" Adam says, waving at him.

Kris rolls his eyes.

6

“A yacht,” Adam announces triumphantly from where he’s lying on the floor. He’s been lying there on the carpet in front of the TV for the last three hours, insisting that it helps him think. Kris figures maybe he enjoys the space. Whatever Adam may claim, Kris’ brain just refuses to believe that Adam has enough space to sprawl in the lamp. He does have awfully long limbs.

“What the hell am I gonna do with a yacht?” Kris asks. This whole thing is pointless. He doesn’t have a third wish. Certainly not a selfish one.

“Sail, Kristopher. You’re going to sail and see new places and meet new people and have adventures!”

Kris smirks. “So you want me to become a pirate, is that it?”

Adam makes that noise in the back of his throat that Kris has learned to translate as stop boring me, Kristopher. “It’d be better than working in a bookstore.”

There is that.

“I think maybe Katy can use—”

“No,” Adam says, decisive.

“But you didn’t even—”

Adam shakes his head. “No.”

“Adam—”

“Kristopher, no.” Adam sits up. The feathers in his hair glint purple in the overhead light. “There has to be something you want for yourself,” he says, giving Kris a serious look. His eyes are an unnatural blue, and they appear to have tiny grey bits of glitter swimming in them. “No one’s completely selfless. I accepted it when you said you wanted to make your own way with your music, and I accepted it when you said you didn’t need a better car, but I refuse to believe that you can’t think of one single thing you want for yourself.”

“Well, I can’t,” Kris grumbles.

Adam waves a dismissive hand, raining something like fairy dust all over Kris’ carpet. “Then I guess I’ll have to stick around until you can.”

Oh, Kris thinks, feeling his heart leap and get stuck in his throat.

This is - very much not good.

7

Kris is stalling. He's aware of that. Adam keeps saying that there is no time limit, but in truth, Kris should have gotten rid of him weeks ago.

His friends are getting suspicious of his sudden lack of a social life, and he doesn't know what he'd do if one of them decided to drop by unannounced. Adam hardly looks like... well, like anything other than a giant sparkly genie, really. He pops in and out of rooms at the most inopportune moments, completely disregarding things like decorum and personal space.

Kris doubts Adam would even understand why Kris doesn't want him to meet his friends. There would probably be pouting and confused looks. And then Kris would fold like a...like a...thing that folds pathetically.

Kris doesn't have a real wish, not the kind Adam is asking for, and he's already feeling weird about his first two wishes, like he's been playing God, so there's no point in waiting, is there?

He decides to fake it.

"I want a car," Kris says one morning, curling his bare toes on the cold floor. "A hybrid. Something sensible."

He probably should've gotten dressed first. The way Adam is squinting at him is making him fidget and pull at the hem of his ratty old t-shirt.

"No," Adam says and goes back to watching... Oprah?

Kris rubs his eyes. "What do you mean no?"

Adam shrugs and doesn't even deign to turn around. "No, you don't want that."

"I'm telling you I do," Kris insists.

"And I'm telling you you don't," Adam retaliates, giving him a firm look.

Kris glares at him. Now this is too much. "You don't get to--"

"Honey," Adam cuts him off, "they didn't give me this job because of my looks. I can tell when you're lying."

Kris has to take a moment to digest that - and then his brain starts misfiring. He's reading my mind? He's reading my damn mind! Don't think- Don't- Lalalaa! Oh, God.

He grabs his coat and is out the door in a matter of seconds. He doesn't hear Adam calling after him.

8

When Kris finally comes back, considerably calmer and frozen half to death, he finds Adam sulking over a cold pizza.

"Was that really necessary?" Adam asks. "I mean - running out in pajamas? Really?"

"Excuse me for freaking out a little,” Kris says. “It’s not everyday that I find out someone’s been in my head."

Kris stands by the door and eyes the afghan on the couch. All he wants right now is to wrap himself in something warm and soft and forget this whole thing - forget the goddamn lamp, forget Adam...

Okay, maybe not Adam. Not completely.

But the air in the room is crackling with so much tension that he’s almost afraid to move right now. This is clearly not just another day to chill at home, watch old movies, and show Adam how to surf the internet. This is -

This is probably it.

"I don't read minds," Adam says, haughty.

"You said - "

"I said I can tell when you lie. It's not the same thing."

"Whatever," Kris grumbles, relieved despite himself, "still, hell of a thing to keep from your - your - roommate." He immediately feels lame. They're not roommates. They're not even friends. Adam is - he's not human, and having lived that long, Kris is probably just a blip in his radar.

Adam squints at him, trying to puzzle something out. "It makes you uncomfortable," he says - like that should be surprising or something.

Kris snorts.

"You want to be able to lie to me?"

Okay, when he puts it that way... "That's not - it's - it's the principle of the thing. I should have the choice."

"Oh." Adam looks away from him and closes the lid of the pizza box on the coffee table, slow and careful. "It's part of the deal," he says, standing up. His usual fluid grace is nowhere to be seen, Kris realizes; Adam is stiff, his every move deliberate. "The magic, the lamp, and the - " He taps his temple none too gently. "I can't turn it off."

And now Kris feels guilty. Of course Adam wouldn't have done anything creepy like rummage around in Kris' head for the hell of it. It’s not Adam’s fault that he is what he is. He never did tell Kris about it in detail, but Kris is pretty sure Adam didn’t choose to be stuck in a lamp for all eternity. Someone must have done this to him. Kris feels sick to his stomach at the thought. Adam is so vibrant, so alive, and someone practically stuffed him into a tiny coffin...

“Your last wish,” Adam says, standing tall and towering over Kris - and the whole world, possibly.

Kris licks his lips nervously, heart going a mile a minute. “I don’t have one yet.”

“That’s okay,” Adam says with a nod. “Pick something meaningless - anything you want - like, food? A slice of cake? Your mom’s cookies?”

“And that’s it,” Kris says. It’s not a question. He can read it in Adam’s carefully blank face. Adam thinks Kris wants to send him away - which, okay, maybe Kris did a couple minutes ago, but that was then, and it was panic, and he doesn’t really - he can’t...

“Yeah. That’s it.”

They stare at each other in perfect silence - which is unnerving since Adam doesn’t normally do silence - until Kris knows what to do in terrifying clarity. Before he can change his mind, he clears his throat and says, “I want you to go - “ An indrawn breath from Adam makes Kris pause, but then the rest of the sentence leaves his lips in a rush and it’s done - out there, out of his hands. “ - to where you really want to be.”

Kris has never seen anyone get punched in the stomach, but he’s pretty sure that’s what Adam looks like right now.

“Can I do that?” Kris asks, feeling self-conscious standing in the middle of the room in his pajamas. “I mean - will it work? For good?”

Adam stares at him - a familiar, penetrating stare that Kris now knows means Adam is reading him. Kris stares back, completely open. The fact that he can’t hide even if he tried seems suddenly insignificant when faced with the fact that he doesn’t want to.

Adam doesn’t answer. Instead, he says, “That’s not selfish.”

Kris smiles at him. For someone who’s lived several millennia, Adam is surprisingly naive. “Yes, it is.”

Adam stares, blinks in confusion, and then stares some more. Then, finally convinced, he says, “Okay.”

Kris nods. “Okay.” He steels himself to watch Adam disappear into thin air and then wonders what will happen to the lamp. Will Adam just leave it behind? Kris figures he can sell it on eBay: Used magical lamp, genie not included.

“Thank you,” Adam says, sounding sincere and a little choked up.

Kris waves it away. “No - don’t. Just - “ He makes a flaily gesture. “Just - do it. Go on.”

Adam nods and snaps his fingers.

9

Kris makes peppermint tea.

Because that’s what you do when the genie you’re more than a little in love with leaves you forever. You wash your favorite mug, you fill it with disgusting tea, and you drink it while watching Bugs Bunny blow up Elmer on mute.

He considers tidying up in the living room a little - it’s like a war zone - but realizes that he doesn’t particularly care right now. It would probably be good for him to keep busy, but the chill that had seeped through his pajamas has now settled in his bones, and all he wants to do is sleep so he won’t feel it anymore.

Things will look better in the morning.

Okay, maybe not tomorrow morning, but one morning, for sure.

Kris slides down on the couch, head falling to rest on a cushion, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t fall asleep there. The couch is lumpy and it smells like pizza. Also, the remote is out of his reach and Bugs Bunny is just not funny today. So Kris gets up with a groan, and trailing the afghan behind him, pads over to the bedroom.

The creaking of the door is familiar and comforting, and the sight of his bed, messy sheets and all, makes Kris sigh with relief.

He really needs to be unconscious right now.

He’s almost there - close enough to let himself drop onto the bed - when the bathroom door opens and gives Kris a minor heart attack.

“Wha-hoha!”

“Um. Hi,” Adam says, looking sheepish with his hair dripping wet and a towel clutched in his fist. “I was just - “

Kris tilts his head in confusion. “Washing your hair in my bathroom?” His heart is refusing to slow down and his throat feels raw. Maybe he’s coming down with something. He doesn’t feel good.

“No! I was - “ Adam runs a hand through his hair. “It’s really hard to style your hair without magic,” he offers finally.

Without magic. Words filter through the confusion, but Kris can’t make sense of them. Adam is still here, so the wish didn’t work. Then why does he have no magic? Is it even possible to botch a wish that badly?

“I’m sorry,” Kris says, helpless to even offer platitudes. He should have asked Adam where he wanted to be and made the wish more specific. And maybe he could have added conditions about Adam keeping his magic and - and - the immortality. Is Adam going to die now? Oh, God. Did he just sign Adam’s death warrant? “Is there - “ Oh. He can’t breathe. His throat is closing up. “Can we - take it back? I didn’t mean to - I just wanted...”

“What?” Adam is standing right in front of him suddenly. “Why would you take it back?”

“Because - it didn’t work?” Kris says faintly. There is no fourth wish and there are no take backs. Kris screwed up and now he can’t fix it.

Adam smiles, wide and brilliant. “But it did,” he says. He leans forward - until his breath brushes Kris’ face - and says, “Kris, it really worked.”

Kris licks his lips, which feels almost dirty when Adam’s face is so close to his. “But - you didn’t go anywhere.”

Adam wraps his arms around him and hugs him tight. “I didn’t want to,” he whispers into Kris’ ear.

“Oh,” Kris says, and holds onto Adam’s shirt for dear life.

10

It takes Kris an hour to catch up to what Adam has said - and to get over the inevitable bout of hyperventilating that follows. Adam, in the meantime, is calm and collected, all warm hands and fond smiles. Kris doesn’t know if that’s incredibly annoying or infinitely reassuring. It’s very possible that it’s both.

They sit on the bed cross-legged, facing each other, and Kris can’t look away from Adam’s fingers threaded with his.

“What now?”

Adam shrugs. “Now, I stay. If you want me to.” He sneaks a glance at Kris’ face, worried. “Not forever, I mean, I can leave - one day. Soon. Maybe. I can get a job.”

“Stay,” Kris rushes in. “I want you to stay.”

Adam beams, sucking up all air in the room again, and nods. “Okay. I can do that.”

He leans down to press his smiling lips against Kris’ hesitantly, getting the corner of his mouth at first, the angle slightly awkward, but when Kris doesn’t pull back, he grabs Kris’ face and parts his lips, teeth and tongue exploring, eager to try everything and learn.

Kris lets himself be moved and handled and kissed.

“This is amazing,” Adam says, some minutes or days or weeks later. From where Kris is lying - when did he lie down? - Adam’s face is all he can see, and with Adam’s eyes dancing and lips wet and puffy from kissing, Kris has to agree: Adam looks amazing. Adam is amazing.

If he fell asleep on the couch and this is all a dream, Kris is going to be very cross.

Adam steals another quick kiss, swiping his tongue along Kris’ bottom lip and then gently biting it. He moans into Kris’ mouth before pulling back. “I don’t even know what I’m doing, but I love it,” he says.

A silly and inappropriate giggle escapes Kris’ lips. Adam smiles at him, not bothered.

“I only have a vague idea how the rest of this is supposed to go,” Adam admits. “You’re going to have to teach me.”

“Oh, God.” Kris moans and arches up, helplessly and inexplicably turned on. “You’ve never had sex.”

“No,” Adam says, trailing his fingers down the line of Kris’ heaving chest. “But I have a feeling,” he says, snaking a hand under Kris’ t-shirt, “that this is going to be worth the wait.”

Kris whimpers.

~

“Fascinating,” Adam murmurs, tonguing Kris’ nipple and moving two fingers in and out of him.

Kris twitches in response; it’s all he’s capable of after three rounds... or has it been four? He’s lost count.

“How do people get anything done when they can be doing this instead?” Adam wonders.

“It’s...” Kris clears his throat. “It’s not always this good.”

“Really?” Adam asks, surprised. “That’s odd, because it keeps getting better every time.”

Adam pulls his fingers out and replaces them with his cock, pushing in slowly.

Kris groans. He’s sore all over and he’s covered in spunk. But he can’t, for the life of him, disagree with Adam. It does get better every time.

Once he’s all the way in - again - Adam stops and says, “You’re going to have to call in sick.”

“I don’t work on Sundays,” Kris reminds him.

“I know,” Adam says. “I meant on Monday. And possibly on Tuesday as well. We’ll see.”

That’s not going to happen, Kris wants to say, but he knows a losing battle when he sees it, so instead he moves his hips and says, “Move.”

That is one request Adam won’t fight him on.

“Your wish is my command.”

~

“I love you,” Adam tells him afterward, voice sleep-soft. “If I ever had a wish for myself, I would have wished for you.”

Kris lets Adam feel his growing grin against his bare chest. “Not shoes?” he asks after a moment, running his foot up and down Adam’s leg lazily.

“Hmm,” Adam says, nuzzling his hair. “That would have been a close second.”

Kris falls asleep with a smile on his face.

~

He calls in sick until Thursday.

The End

August, 2010