The first time Kris saw the guy, all was not lost. No, not lost at all. He knew where he was right? In the bar, hot and noisy, packed with people, waiting for his turn on stage. It's open mic at the Acoustic right? Yeah, Santa Monica Blvd. He'd escaped. But only for one brief summer to try his hand at something different, before he had to settle down to small town life and getting married and maybe working for his father in law and no more dreaming about playing music for a living and.....
That quick flash of adrenalin was, well, it was interesting. Watching the tall, good looking guy walk sinuously towards him was, nice. No it wasn't nice. It was unsettling and slightly scary and there were hot and cold pin pricks rippling up and down his spine. He wanted to run but his feet wouldn't move. All wasn't lost though, he knew he could do this. He could push this feeling down. It wasn't the first time he'd had to. His eyes moved up the six foot something frame standing in front of him now to take it all in. The legs, legs, legs, oh hello! then chest, shoulders, shoulders, neck, jaw, lips. Oh, hair. Oh, eyes. Blue eyes. Blue grey eyes. Focused on him. Smiling intently at him.
“Hey. Its Chris right?” The voice was soft and low.
“Um yeah, Kris. Kris Allen. How'd ya know?”
“Oh, I make a point of knowing all the cute boys names,” blue eyes crinkled at him, one corner of his mouth tugging up slightly.
“I'm Adam. Adam Lambert.”
Kris had been here for nearly two months and things had gone well... OK, well, they'd gone OK, but still.... He'd had some open mic spots and he'd played every Sunday at Priscilla's coffee shop where that friend of Cale's cousin worked. The busking most afternoons as near to Highland or the Kodak as he could get went fine, as long as he avoided getting run off. Boy was the competition fierce round there. He'd made enough to pay his way, which was good really. But not great. He was here to try to get noticed more than anything. And that hadn't worked out too well so far. Nothing had really happened that would stop him from heading back home in just a couple of days. Two months wasn't long enough really, he'd known that when he came, but a promise was a promise, and it was better than nothing.
Blue eyes was moving now. Holding out his hand and wanting to shake. Be friends. Oh. OK. We can do that. We know how to shake hands right? Right. Yeah. The hand when it clasped his was warm and solid, cool rings hard in his palm and dark tipped fingers curling round his. Kris' eyes may have bugged out just a little, but it wasn't for the reason blue eyes obviously thought it was. No. Not at all.
Those eyes, shaded just a little and narrowed slightly, smirked harder, “Yeah, um. I'm up before you, I think.” he flicked his head towards the stage. Then with a slightly broader smirk, “This your first time... Kris?”
“Oh. Oh yeah I um, well I've played around you know.” Shit, shit what am I saying? “I mean....this is my first time. Um in LA.” Yeah that definitely cleared things up.
Blue eyes, Adam, smiled then. A slow, warm, dazzling smile. Kris felt himself freeze, mouth open, eyes trained on that smile. He wasn't being obvious was he? Not at all. Then he realised their hands were still locked. Shit. He could do this. He needed to pull himself together that's all. Reluctantly letting go of the warm palm, Kris moved back half a step, hand raised to rub his neck instead.
“Yeah, um, I just came up from Arkansas for a couple of months. To um...” Kris flicked his eyes down, away from that piercing, uncomfortable gaze and found himself focusing on... Holy cr...look up! Look up!
“Well, I um, wanted to get more experience, y' know?” Erm, innuendo much Kris? He felt the flush burn all the way down to his chest.
Blue eyes, Adam damn it, just grinned even wider and then laughed. A deep, throw your head back, don't care how you look laugh. OK, he looks gorgeous when he laughs. The sound rippled around Kris and he started to smile himself, glancing up through his lashes at dark bangs shaking in mirth. A long, denim clad arm snaked round his shoulders to pull him in close. Warm and solid and oh, he smells really good! close.
“OK. I am officially keeping you Arkansas” declared Adam, eyes swimming, lips still stretched in a wide grin. “You're just too precious for words!”
Kris didn't intend for it to happen. No, really. It was just that home was a long way away and this was more or less his last night here and his last shot at making anything of his music and he was alone and he needed a friend since Cale's cousin had ditched him over a week ago in favour of some blond working the evening shift at the Castle. Then there was Adam. Adam's voice, soaring and unearthly. Adam's mesmerizing, gravitational pull from the stage, gaze riveting his as he sang to the crowd. Adam's smooth sexuality, morphing seamlessly into crazy laughter and genuine, wide eyed praise as he shook Kris' shoulders after he sang his set, gasping loudly “Kris! You were amazing!”
Adam's arm round him felt so easy, that gesture of ownership, the flirtatious laughter, didn't really feel strange at all. Their connection natural over music and drunken soul searching and crazy, silly stuff no one else ever got about Kris. So easy for him to slide into Adam's gentle touch in the booth as as they slouched together, drinking strange concoctions way into the night. “No, no seriously Kris, you gotta try this one!” Its practically your last night!”
So easy when Adam started making out with him in the alley later, hands slipping over his hips, mouth claiming Kris', hot and wet and oh, yeah, just there. Letting Adam steer him towards the small, funky apartment with the broken down blue couch, clutching onto each other giggling, because he didn't want to let go of what he had found. Falling back on the bed, tugging off his shirt, laughing helplessly over Adam's too tight jeans caught up in his boots. Then stilling, staring in wonder, feeling strong fingers and tongue tracing slowly over his too sensitive skin, pale eyes blown wide, flickering up to capture his. Then hands all over each other finally, finally, touching everywhere, as they panted together, rubbed and mouthed and pushed and pulled, groaning and gasping, over and over. Kris fell completely into that night.
When Kris woke with his face crushed into the crook of Adam's shoulder, expanse of strong, pale chest gently rising and falling away beneath his cheek, his watch blinked 5.32 am. Kris lay still, breath matching for a long moment, before he allowed himself to look up at the dark strands of hair falling across Adam's face, soft in sleep in the half light, lips slightly parted, arm slung casually round Kris' left hip. It felt so good, so warm and relaxed and whole. And he panicked. He knew he was being a coward, but the longer he looked the more he knew that he shouldn't, he couldn't stay. This was just a one night stand right? He didn't want to wait around for the pity party, to feel the awkwardness rising between them tomorrow. God, not after last night. Feeling the guilt of everything waiting for him back home slowly start to seep in and weigh him down over stilted morning coffee. Swapping useless phone numbers they would never call. He didn't want this spoiled. He wanted to keep it clean and safe, tucked away where nothing could taint it. Kris pulled on his clothes and slipped silently out the door. He didn't look back.
That was almost a year ago. As the reality of being home had rolled along with the months, wondering whether to take the job in that shoe store that his Pop's friend owned, or should he go back to college... again? sank in, Kris' one short, breathless, summer in LA turned into something blurred and distant and dreamlike. Small snatches stood out like bright bubbles of colour, the rush he got playing a 15 minute set to a packed house at 14 Below, the time he got a $20 note in his case busking on the corner of Highland and Hollywood, the feel of a long, firm body wrapped around him and dark, silky hair under his fingers as he....oh.
He knew he had run back to the world of old familiar habits because he was afraid. Afraid of his family, his friends, his church, his girl, Katy, of everyone he knew seeing this Kris. Most of all he was afraid of himself, of this sexual, uninhibited being who had wanted, and acted on that want. He felt transparent, jumpy, unsettled. And after a while he started to hate himself for running from Adam too, imagining what Adam must have thought, waking to find him gone, seeing disappointment in wide blue eyes.
Sometimes he felt a knot like twisting regret burn in his stomach, but he tried to push it down like he always did, because he knew he couldn't really have that thing that he craved, that he'd had for one night in LA. The thing he never told anyone about. But he couldn't pretend to himself any more either and he hadn't counted on how much that would hurt. He tried to push it down, but it wasn't so easy any more. When had that changed?
He sat with Katy most evenings now in his parents front parlour, watching as she excitedly planned their wedding, trying to answer her babbling questions, nodding vaguely as he strummed on his guitar while she chatted, animated, into her phone. Smiling at her anticipation yet feeling oddly dry inside. Trying to avoid the questioning looks from his Mama when she caught him gazing blankly out the window. Going home was not what he thought it would be. Everything felt closed in and hollow somehow. Yet strangely the guilt never came.
The next time Kris saw Adam he knew all was lost. No, not lost. All was completely shot to hell in a hand basket. He knew where he was right? In the auditorium, hot and noisy under the lights. Waiting for his turn. Its Hollywood week right? Yeah, at the Kodak, back in LA. And he'd gone to the try outs in Louisville because he just wanted one more shot and his brother had pushed it and he couldn't forget what had happened the last time he had gone for what he wanted, but he didn't think he'd make it at all, so he'd married Katy because it was what everyone had expected and….
The rush of adrenaline and familiarity was, well, it was overwhelming. Watching Adam walk towards him, tall and dark and sinuous was amazing. No it was more than amazing. It was unsettling and overpowering and his stomach lurched pitifully and his heart was pounding out of his chest, pure want rippling up and down his skin. Yes. He wanted to launch himself and burrow into that lean frame and grab onto that thick, black hair and never let go, but his feet were glued to the spot. Really, all was completely, utterly lost. Then those blue eyes were in front of him again. Blue grey eyes. Smiling eyes. Focused on him. Smiling intently at him.
( Read more...Collapse )
( Read more...Collapse )
( Read more...Collapse )
( Read more...Collapse )