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freakykatTitle: Inside the Fortress of Solitude (Or How Adam Lambert Rescues Kris Allen Unnecessarily) - 1/2
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me, only to themselves. No disrespect meant to anyone.
Warnings: Well, you know...MPREG, lol. But if that doesn't bother you, it's all good.
He’s pretty sure he’s dreaming.
That’s really all Kris can think when he’s woken up in the middle of the night to banging on the cabin door. It takes him a couple of minutes to remember where he is, already used to the light coming in through the window in Adam’s guest room. He shakes his head, pushing that out of his mind, and swings his legs off the bed. By the time he gets up and is heading toward the door, it’s rattling from the pounding it’s getting.
“Jesus. Hold on.”
He fumbles with the locks, glancing out the window at the snow that’s still falling, covering everything in sight, like it has been for the last day. He can’t imagine anyone being out in that.
Unless they had gotten stuck in it and had stumbled upon the cabin. Which probably meant they were close to freezing to death or something.
The thought makes him yank the door open.
He blinks when he finally focuses on the scene.
Adam is standing on the porch, engulfed in a thick silver parka, holding a flashlight which he shines in Kris’ direction, blinding him.
“Kris! Oh, thank god you’re okay, baby.”
Of course he’s okay. He’s not the lunatic out in the middle of the worst storm that Arkansas has seen in the last decade. He waves a hand at Adam. “Turn that off.”
“Oh, sorry.”
The light blinks out and Adam grabs him into a tight hug, dropping random kisses on his head. He ignores the way his heart kind of stutters at that and waits until his vision clears. When it does, he thinks that maybe all that bright light caused some damage, because it’s not possible that he’s seeing what he is.
“Adam?”
“Hmm?” Adam pulls back to look at his face.
“Is that a snow plow?”
Adam turns his head to glance over his shoulder, then back at Kris with a big grin. “Yes, it is.”
He takes in the scene: a snow plow followed by another car, filled with…
“Are those your friends in that car?”
Cam and Cassidy smile, their heads sticking out of the back window. Alisan is waving at him from the passenger seat. His gaze shifts to the huge monstrosity still roaring its engine. Is that…?
“Hey, Kris,” Tommy -- mostly covered up except for his face -- greets him with his free hand (the one not holding a shovel).
Kris waves back at him, and at Sasha, who has what he thinks is a first aid kit in her lap. Monte is in the driver’s seat, and he seems to be talking to someone Kris doesn’t recognize.
Except for the white coat that makes identifying what he is easier.
Kris looks up at Adam.
Adam makes a ta-da! gesture with his hands, looking a little sheepish at least, and exclaims, “We came to rescue you!”
It was actually Scarlett’s idea.
The first three months of the pregnancy had been horrible (which Kris thought was cruel and unusual punishment but his mother assured him was just a natural process), and between his morning sickness, the crankiness and fatigue, he hadn't exactly been fit for human consumption.
(He still feels pretty bad about Adam’s television.)
But Scarlett had ignored Kris’ hormone-induced emotional outbursts (he did not cry, no matter what Charles said) and made sure to help Kris out with whatever she could. Admittedly, it'd been nice to have someone to talk to when he freaked out (which he did, a few times, every day, for like two weeks straight) and to tell him about the good side to the whole situation.
Scarlett had been where Kris was, albeit not in the exact same situation, so her advice and support was really important to him.
And once everything calmed down, including his own body’s attempts at killing him, Kris was grateful for the friendship he’d made.
(Not that he didn’t like all of Adam’s friends, because he did, even Brad, but he’d always felt a little self-conscious in their presence. A little not glam, which-- well, really.)
Scarlett was funny, sweet but snarky, and pretty damn bossy to boot.
So when she looked across the table at him during one of their lunch dates and said, “Kristopher, you need some serious R&R, sweetheart, especially before the baby comes. Because trust me, once she is here, you’re going to wish so hard for it.”
He argued. He was in the middle of writing for his next album. Even if he hadn't actually written anything worthwhile in two months, he was supposed to be doing just that.
“Well, a vacation will help recharge you. Probably get those creative juices going. What you need is somewhere quiet, some solitude to think and write.”
Kris looked up at her with a smirk. “You trying to say I need a padded room, Scarlett?”
She laughed and they went back to their food, talked about her latest project, and Kris tried to completely forget the conversation.
But a week later, when he couldn't concentrate for all the noise in the house, he started to think she might have a point. Adam had hired people to build a nursery, and though Kris understands how important that is, it's not a way he can function. (It was one of the reasons he’d been so adamant against moving into Adam’s house, but he’d relented because Adam had given him that wounded look and Kris can’t actually bear to see that, would do pretty much anything to make it go away… Which is how they've gotten to where they are.)
He remembered the family cabin, and after calling his dad to make sure it was habitable, he arranged his transportation, got Lizzie to push back any appointments he had for the week, called both Leila and his mother to tell them where he'd be, and then left Adam a message letting him know his plan.
(Granted, he waited until he knew Adam would be on stage before leaving the message, to avoid the argument he was pretty sure would occur, but at least he told him.)
And it went really well.
His dad sent someone ahead to clean up the cabin so when Kris got there it was ready. Kris was able to breathe for the first time in months when he stepped through the door. It was calm and soothing. Quiet and serene. Something he hadn't been able to experience in a while. Even if Kris pretty much loved all the noise and crazy currently in his life, he couldn't help but need a reprieve.
He started writing almost right away, his guitar in his arms, pen at the ready, which was why he didn't notice the raging blizzard outside his window until almost sundown. When he did see all the white covering everything in sight, he reached for his phone to find he had no signal.
He figured his parents and Leila wouldn't worry too much.
But Adam… he knew Adam was going to have a fit. He worried as it was, all the time.
Too much, if you asked Kris. (But no one did, so.) Part of him warmed at knowing that, his heart bursting with love for Adam, and the other wished it meant more than it did.
There wasn't anything he could do until the storm passed and he could call out again. He planned to contact Adam immediately, as soon as the lines opened up, to reassure him that they were fine.
Kris didn't mind the solitude, cut off from the world for some time. He enjoyed being alone, though now he really wasn't. He smoothed a hand across his stomach and smiled. This was good. He could work like this.
There was plenty of food in the kitchen and firewood in the storage closet. A lot of DVDs and CDs available when he needed a break. The book Tommy had insisted Kris would “love. It’s gnarly, Kris!” sitting on the nightstand.
He could easily last a week before he needed to start worrying. Kris was pretty sure the storm wouldn't be lasting that long.
When the exhaustion hit, Kris set his work aside and headed to the bedroom. He’d stolen Adam’s comforter from his bed before leaving the house, something he always did when Adam was out of town and Kris couldn't get his daily Adam fix. It smelled like Adam, and Kris liked to curl up in it.
So he did, falling asleep easier than he had in weeks.
And then Adam showed up at his door, throwing his peace into shambles.
It really was fucking symbolic.
Kris watches the crowd of people trample in through the door, greeting him with a hug or kiss or both (except in the case of the nervous-looking doctor who enters with Monte, and seriously, this is not happening), before turning to look at Adam. Kris thinks this is the most surreal dream ever or-- no, it’s his life. Really.
Adam takes one look at his face, grabs his arm and pushes Kris in the direction of the bedroom, saying over his shoulder, “Just hang a minute, guys.”
He closes the bedroom door and turns to Kris.
“Okay, I can explain.”
Kris crosses his arms and waits.
“I, maybe, overreacted a little when they told me where you were and how no one could reach you--”
“It’s only been a day, Adam!” Kris throws his hands up, narrows his eyes. “Wait, how did you know I was here?” His mother wouldn’t have told him, since Kris asked that no one bother him. Leila probably wouldn’t have either. “I didn’t mention exactly where I was in my message.”
“Neil.”
Neil?
“I didn’t tell him--” Then it dawns on him. “My father, Neil?”
“Well, he was a little worried, too.”
Traitor. See if Kris lets him see his grandkid before she turns eighteen.
Adam looks amused and Kris glares.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just missed your face.”
Kris tells his stupid heart to stop it.
“Adam, seriously? Did you just haul half your band and friends, not to mention a doctor -- and where the hell did you get him from -- through a snowstorm to come and rescue me from a perfectly comfortable vacation?”
“Well, I needed backup. Just in case. And the doctor was at the hotel for emergencies, so I kind of sequestered him. And the snow plow.”
“You kidnapped him?” Kris asks, incredulous.
“That’s a strong word. I borrowed them both.”
“You stole them!”
“Stealing means you have no intention of returning. As soon as you grab your things and we return to the hotel, they’ll both be back where they belong.”
Kris doesn’t even know what to say to that.
“I-- Adam, I’m in the middle of writing--”
“Which you could do at the hotel. The place is amazing, Kris.”
Kris groans, wipes a hand down his face and counts to ten.
This is so like Adam. To just dive head first, no thinking about it, going with his instincts, and if Kris didn’t love him so much, he’d seriously hate him right about this moment.
He tries a different tactic.
“Adam, listen to me. I’m okay. See? All in one piece. The baby is fine. There’s plenty of food. I’ll be back at your house in a week. Like I said. Please, just-- I need this.”
Adam shakes his head. “What if something happens?”
“Nothing will.”
He waits to see what comes next, and then Adam’s eyes light up and he grins. “I can stay with you.”
Oh, hell no.
He can’t be alone with Adam because he‘ll do something stupid. Like tell him he loves him. It’s the one of the other reasons that he needs a little space (and he’s pretty sure Scarlett knew that when she made her suggestion): his resistance to Adam is pretty low.
It’s too much want and need and can’t have all rolled into this one man.
It’s hard to breathe around him some days.
Living with Adam is like a wonderfully horrible kind of torture. He needs the space to be able to think and rebuild those walls that have crumbled since he moved in with him.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Adam smiles at him, the one that’s wide and real. “It’s a great idea.”
“You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”
Adam shakes his head.
Kris sighs, turns his back to Adam and tries to think of a solution. Nothing is really coming to him.
“You’re mad at me.”
Kris resists the urge to snap at Adam that no, he’s not mad, because honestly it’s not Adam, it’s Kris’ hormones and he knows that. Adam is just being his sweet, wonderful, really fucking hot self in that ridiculous silver parka and the smudged eyeliner around his fucking gorgeous eyes and his teeth biting on his lips in worry and Kris really needs to not be looking at him right this moment because damn it he’s hard and aching and this, this was why he needed time away.
Instead he shakes his head, admonishes himself silently for all the internal cursing he seems to be doing these days, and says a quick, “I’m not.”
Adam tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow. “Yes, you are.”
Kris glares at him. “Adam.”
Adam stares back, and after a minute Kris sighs, shoulders slumping. He’s really just so tired.
“I may be a little irritated but I’m not mad.”
He can hear the commotion in the other room, voices carrying through the crack under the door, and he just breathes through the need to make them all leave him alone with his peace and quiet. The song that’s been rolling around in his head for weeks is getting louder and Kris needs to get it out.
Adam takes a step closer, crowding into Kris’ space, making his heart race, his breath quickening at the proximity. He’s been really good at keeping his distance from Adam. He wants to back away but Adam’s hand reaches up to touch Kris’ face, fingers tracing over his cheek, and he can’t help but meet Adam’s eyes, freezes at the sincerity there.
“I was-- I was really worried, Kris.”
Kris looks away, nods as Adam’s hand falls away.
“I know you worry about the baby but Adam--”
“That’s not the only reason I was freaked, Kris. I just-- I need you both to be safe. Do you understand that?”
Kris feels that familiar rush of hope and want and fear rush up and he can’t let himself go there. Can’t really believe it, because Adam had said no and the only thing different between then and now was the baby.
He looks up at Adam’s face, open and scared and just a little bit annoyed, and Kris smiles despite himself. He moves forward, watches Adam’s eyes widen when Kris’ hands cup his face. “I get it, yeah. But you gotta know I’m not gonna do anything that’s gonna hurt her. You know that, right?”
“I know,” Adam whispers and something changes, his gaze darkens and moves from Kris’ eyes to his lips. It makes him nervous, makes him drop his hands, and Kris opens his mouth to say anything that will break the spell but Adam is fast, and suddenly his fingers are stroking over Kris’ lips. He feels a little dizzy, thinks that’s the reason he’s swaying into Adam and…
“Hey, guys-- oh, shit. Sorry.” Tommy gives them an apologetic look, starts back out the door, and Kris takes the moment to move away from Adam.
“It’s okay, Tommy Joe.” He glances back at Tommy, smiles softly before returning his gaze to Adam.
Adam keeps his eyes on Kris’ face, searching for something and Kris isn’t sure what it might be. “What did you need, Tommy?”
“Oh, right. Well, the snow’s not letting up and probably won’t be for a while. And um, the doc says he really needs to get back to the hotel, you know, just in case, so we should probably head back.” Tommy is looking from Adam to Kris and back expectantly.
Adam just blinks at Kris, waiting for him to say the word.
Kris knows Adam won’t leave him here, not with the storm still raging for who knows how long. He’ll stay with Kris and drive him nuts with his face and his hands and his voice. He won’t be able to escape him for even a minute in this stupid cabin.
Kris turns away from Adam’s heated glare, bends to pull the duffel bag from under the bed and heads to the small dresser where he’d dumped his clothes.
“Can one of you grab the guitar, please?”
He doesn’t look at Adam but Kris can sense his smile without needing to see it.
Fine. He’ll go to the stupid hotel and stay with Adam and let him feed him and worry over him. Then he’ll bribe someone to distract Adam so Kris can find a hiding place (he’ll have better luck there than here) to finish his song.
In quiet.
“Let’s rock and roll, people!” Tommy yells and Kris cringes, breathes deep when he hears his, “For fuck’s sake, Sasha, that’s Kris’ guitar!”
Hiding place. For sure.
Kris is in love with Adam.
He has been for a very long time (possibly longer than he should have been).
That’s not the problem.
It’s that Kris has horrible timing. Like, the worst. Ever.
If he’d just realized sooner after his divorce (or paid more attention to the hints Katy kept dropping about it) then he would have talked to Adam. Maybe figured out if he felt the same way. (He thinks that Katy calling him an idiot when he told her this was uncalled for. Really.) He could have, at least, gotten it off his chest, worked through it and somehow managed to get over it. (Not that he actually thinks that’s a possibility. but he would have liked to have been able to try.)
But he didn’t think too closely about his feelings for Adam. He took everything bottled inside, the burning and aching he felt, and turned it into his third album. The one that had gone platinum practically overnight, and Kris had been caught up in the touring, the media blitz, and everything that came with that.
And Adam had been there for it. Encouraging Kris. Telling him how proud he was. Making him shut up when Kris said he didn’t think he deserved it. He made it easier for Kris, sweeter and crazier.
By the time he’d found the courage to admit that he was in love, stupidly and desperately, a year had passed.
The thing about Kris, though, is that once he knows something, once he understands what he wants, he takes the steps to get it.
So he’d no sooner landed in L.A. than he was headed to Adam’s. Trying to find the words to tell him how he felt as he knocked on the door to Adam’s house.
And that’s when he’d met Preston.
Kris couldn’t breathe as Adam introduced him (after yelling at Kris for not telling him he was coming back home, then crushing him in a warm hug) to the dancer he’d met on the brief tour he’d given in Europe. His eyes bright and happy as he looked at Kris, hands on Preston’s waist always moving, and smile so wide Kris thought it might actually break his face.
Adam hadn’t looked so content in as long as Kris could remember.
Kris was apparently a better actor than he’d given himself credit for because he smiled back, hugged and congratulated Adam, sitting at the dining room table with everyone Adam had invited to what he learned was Preston’s introduction to his group of friends. Kris ate and drank, laughing at the right moments, ignoring his breaking heart.
(He remembers the look Brad gave him from across the table and how he’d hugged Kris a little tighter at the end of the night.)
And that was it.
Adam had found someone and Preston was awesome. He was funny and really sweet and Kris actually liked him, which made everything suck even more.
Katy tried to talk him into telling Adam, anyway. Said he should know because it wasn’t fair otherwise.
But…
What would be the point?
Because this-- this was Adam.
Adam.
Amazing and ridiculously talented and gorgeous and funny and glittery and everything good that Kris could think of.
Kris was…
Well, he was just Kris, and honestly, what chance did he have? (Katy had actually hit him for that one.)
So he shut off all those kind of thoughts about Adam, buried his feelings as deep as he could, and went back to living the life he’d been building before his big self-revelation.
For the most part, it worked.
Then one day Preston and Adam ended.
And everything changed completely.
The ride down the mountain to the hotel is pretty uneventful, even as the snow keeps dropping fast in big fat flakes. Kris listens to Tommy and Sasha argue over some new arrangements the band was working on, giving his opinion when they ask. Alisan and Adam are having an intense conversation in the seat across from them that Kris can’t and -- with the glances they keep flicking his way -- doesn’t really want to hear. He tries to concentrate on the road, hopes that Monte can handle the snow plow that’s clearing their way.
He can’t decide if he’s happy that Adam is giving him space or if that’s the reason his stomach feels twisted in knots. He knows it’s nerves and thankfully not the morning sickness that plagued him at the beginning. He pats his belly gently, murmurs a soft, “It’s alright, kiddo,” and looks up in time to catch Adam watching him, expression caught between adoring and worry. It’s his default setting these days. Kris mouths, “It’s all good,” and receives a grin in return.
His heart does that stupid fluttering thing it always does and Kris bites back a sigh.
He is doomed.
It doesn’t take long to reach the hotel (thankfully) and he doesn’t say anything when Adam helps him out of the car, guides him into the lobby. (So, maybe he is feeling a little guilty for not giving Adam more of a heads up.) Adam’s fingers flex on his waist, making Kris look up and smile. He notices the way Adam’s eyes soften at the edges and he opens his mouth to say something.
The screeching -- because, really, that’s the only way Kris can describe it -- of his name from across the room startles them and Kris turns his head in time to see a red streak of energy and hair coming toward him. He opens his arms to hug Allison back, laughing when she clutches at him hard.
“Allison!” Kris hears the exasperation in Adam’s voice and feels hands pulling at Alli’s arms.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Adam. It’s not like she can squeeze the kid out of him or anything.”
Kris looks up, grinning as Brad closes in on him and piles onto the hug, making it hard for Kris to breathe.
“Seriously?” Adam says through a loud sigh and Brad pulls away, rolling his eyes.
When Allison finally lets him go, she hits him on the shoulder. “What the hell, Kris? Scaring the shit out of us like that. It’s not cool, bro.”
“Oh. Jeez. I didn’t run away from home, Allison.” He ignores the way Brad’s eyebrow raises up slightly. “I just needed some quiet to write. That’s all.”
“Whatever. You should have called. Or at least a text. I have to hear from Adam that you’re, like, missing.”
He turns to look at Adam, who stares back at him. “Tell me she’s kidding, Adam.”
Brad shakes his head. “Nope. He gathered the troops for Operation: Save Kristopher, even though some of us told him he was being ridiculous.”
He really looks at Adam, sees the shadows under his eyes and the guilt grows exponentially, his chest aching from having done that to him. “Adam.”
Before he can say anything else, Monte is heading toward them with the older man in the white coat -- Dr. Echelon, Kris remembers Adam having called him --and the next few minutes are spent having Kris checked out. He grits his teeth through it because Adam seems less tense as the doctor examines him.
“All right, Kris. You’re perfectly healthy. Are you feeling okay? Any nausea? Pain?”
Kris shakes his head, waves a hand. “Past that.”
“Good. I don’t have any equipment here to monitor the baby, but I think everything is fine.” He smiles kindly at Kris and then Adam.
Kris watches Adam’s shoulders relax and feels that stab in his chest again. He reaches a hand out, grabs Adam’s, and lacing their fingers, pulls him closer. Adam moves easily, bending to look Kris in the eye, swallowing visibly when Kris touches his cheek.
“Stop worrying so much, please.” He wrinkles his nose and sighs. “Because seriously, Adam, we’ve got another four and a half months of this, okay? And I cannot take you freaking out on me every time I, like, sneeze or pick up a box.”
Adam gives him a sheepish smile. “It looked heavy.”
Kris rolls his eyes, leans his forehead on Adam’s and lets out a soft laugh. “It had pillows in it, Adam.” From this close up, he can see the way Adam’s eyelashes fan out on his face. “I love our baby, you know that. I’m not going to take any chances with her. You got to trust me on this.”
Adam looks surprised, then earnest when he whispers a soft, “I do.”
Kris pulls back to gauge Adam’s face, and satisfied that he means it, he lets his hand fall onto his lap and turns to glance up at the doctor. “So, I can totally walk on my own right, Doc? I’m not going to need a wheelchair or some huge bodyguard to carry me?” He sees Ronnie move into position in the background and bites back a grin. “No matter how awesome of a bodyguard they are.”
Dr. Echelon smiles warmly and shakes his head. “You’re fine.”
Kris turns to look at Adam. “See? Now that the medical professional has spoken, and you’ve forced me here, mind showing me where I’m staying?”
Everyone, with the exception of Brad and Allison who are hovering just out of sight, has scattered to parts unknown . Kris isn’t even going to ask where or what they might be up to. He looks over at Adam, raising an eyebrow.
Adam sighs heavily. “This way, baby.”
The room is ridiculous.
He can’t even call it a room. It’s more a suite. Or a house magically built into the floor.
Kris and his family had been visiting this area for years and he didn’t even know that this hotel had something so… huge. And decadent.
There are fires burning in both the living room and the sitting room fireplaces. (He has no idea what the difference between the two rooms is, really.) It’s warm and cozy, everything done in light browns, greens. The entertainment center has a huge plasma TV with the works. He blinks at Tommy, Monte and Cassidy, sprawled over the furniture, watching what looks like some cooking show.
Alisan is lounging on a long-backed chair that Kris doesn’t know the name of, flipping through a magazine. She glances up and grins his way, winking when he smiles back.
There are noises coming from what he thinks is probably the kitchen. He figures Sasha must be in there with Ronnie, and from the smells wafting out the door, they are cooking up something.
Brad and Allison plop down on the empty loveseat, immediately digging into the popcorn that Tommy hands them. He has no idea where Cam went but he figures she might be in one of the three bedrooms he assumes are behind the closed doors around him.
He feels Adam’s hands on his back, pushing him gently in the direction of one of the doors that open up into the living room. They step through and all the noise is muffled to a quiet murmur of voices and sounds when the door shuts behind them. Kris closes his eyes and breathes deeply.
God knows he loves every single one of those people, but he is too tired to deal with it all. He glances around the room, seeing Adam’s luggage sitting in one corner, clothes spilling out and to the floor.
His duffel bag has been brought up, he assumes while he was being checked over, and sits neatly on the bed.
He blinks then turns to Adam.
“Um. Are we…?”
Adam stops rummaging through his bag and looks up, smiling softly. “What?”
They are sharing a room.
“Are we all staying here? In the suite, I mean?”
Adam gives him an apologetic look. “It’s all they had left when we got here. It’s only for a few days.”
“And we’re a sharing a room?”
Adam nods, biting his lip, something close to hurt crossing his face. “We can trade--”
Kris shakes his head, waves at Adam. “No. It’s fine. Of course. I just--” He glances at the bed and cuts off whatever he’d been about to say. It doesn’t matter. He’s shared a room with Adam before, several times actually, and they’d managed to sleep in the same bed without anything happening.
Just because he’s crazy in love with Adam, can barely keep his hands to himself when Adam is within his reach, has hormones raging through his system making Kris want him so much it physically hurts, and he had ended up sleeping with him the last time they had shared a bed, doesn’t mean he can’t control himself this time.
Adam’s staring at him when he glances up, eyes dark and heated, making Kris shudder quietly, something hot unfurling in his stomach, making it hard to breathe.
He is so screwed.
It was all about timing, really. (That’s something that everyone was always telling him. That he needed to learn when to do something.)
The truth is that Kris should have waited.
When he’d gotten the call from Brad informing him that Adam and Preston had ended things (“and baby, it was ugly, let me tell you“), what Kris should have done was call Adam on the phone. Listen to him from a safe distance where he couldn’t see his face, wouldn’t be able to touch him but could still be there in some form. That would have the best course of action right then.
What he did was completely different.
He’d barely hung up with Brad before he was in his car on his way to Adam’s, a bottle of tequila in a brown bag in the backseat, take out from Pinto Thai (because he was pretty sure Adam hadn’t eaten all day, drinking on empty stomachs would end with terrible hangovers, and he wanted to avoid as much damage as he could), and a gallon of Rocky Road.
Adam would complain but Kris figured he’d eat it anyway.
He’d let himself in with the spare key Adam had given him (“I don’t want to have to wake up to let you in at your disgusting, early morning visiting hours, okay?”), stepped through the door and followed the sound of the television. Adam sat on the couch, head leaning on the arm, body splayed out on it. He turned to look at Kris, greeting him with a sad smile, and it was all Kris could do not to drop everything, crawl onto the couch and pull Adam into his arms.
He fed Adam, made him get up and move to his room because if they were going to pass out it was not going to be on the couch. When they were comfortable on Adam’s ridiculous eight hundred thread count sheets, Kris cracked open the tequila bottle and poured them shots from the glasses he’d grabbed in the kitchen. The liquid burned on the way down. Kris heard Adam hiss as he swallowed his, and then proceeded to pour another one.
He doesn’t remember how long they went on for. Adam talked about how he’d known it wasn’t supposed to last forever but he thought he’d get more time with Preston. That he thought this time he’d be able to keep his happiness for a lot longer. He talked about all the moments where he thought he was in love again. Kris pushed down on the ugly emotion that wanted to rear its stupid green head. He was here for Adam. Like Adam had been for him after Katy. So he patted Adam’s head as he talked, running his fingers through the dark strands and pretending the warmth he felt was the tequila.
“It’s like-- like I’m supposed to be alone forever,” Adam had moaned, turning his head to look at Kris with big blue eyes, damp with tears.
Kris scowled at him. (Or what could pass for scowling when he didn’t have full control over his facial muscles.) “That’s-- Don’t be stupid, Lambert. You aren’t alone, Adam.”
Adam’s eyebrows went up.
“You’ve got Leila and Eber, Neil and Brad, Cassidy, and a whole bunch of us. You are not alone, baby.”
Those eyes widened, as surprised as Kris was at the words, and stared right at him. After a long moment Adam breathed out a quiet, “Do I have you, Kristopher?”
And oh, Kris was only human, okay? And a little drunk. (Really drunk, so his normal this a bad idea, don’t do it warning system was in the off position.)
Kris leaned in and kissed Adam, hot and wet, deep, pressing his lips against Adam’s until they gave way and he slipped his way inside. It took Adam a moment to catch up, probably too shocked at first, Kris was never sure, but then he moaned and opened his mouth, caught Kris’ lip between his and rolled them over.
He doesn’t remember everything.
There was warmth pushing him down, Adam’s skin on his tongue, Adam’s hands on Kris’ hips, holding him still while he wrapped his mouth around Kris, making him arch up, dragging sounds out of Kris he’d never made, growls and pleading, promises whispered that he'd kept hidden inside. They kissed until Kris couldn’t breathe, until he was forced to gulp in air, Adam’s face resting against his neck, licking and sucking, fingers finding their way into Kris, breaching the fuzzy happiness with pain, making him just a little sharper and then Adam was inside, pushing and stroking, muttering words Kris couldn’t recall but he knew had been said, felt it in his bones and his skin.
When he woke up, Kris had realized pretty instantly what had happened and he’d tried to hide his smile in the pillow.
It wasn’t how he would have wanted to… but now he could tell Adam, now he knew Adam wanted him. That was all he needed. He could wait for the rest.
He turned to find Adam sitting up in bed, leaning against the headboard, and before he could speak, he caught the devastated look on Adam’s face, the way his mouth tightened when he realized Kris was looking at him.
“Kris-- I shouldn’t-- I’m sorry.”
He’d been pretty sure nothing would have felt as horrible as his marriage ending.
Kris seemed to be wrong on a lot of things.
Adam was talking about having taken advantage of him, how he didn’t want to lose Kris because he was his best friend and if he couldn’t have that he wasn’t sure what to do, saying that Kris deserved more than Adam could give. That he knew it had been the drinks and nothing meant anything.
Blah. Blah. Blah.
He’s not sure why Adam kept talking while Kris’ heart broke at his feet.
Kris doesn’t remember any of what Adam was saying. He nodded when he thought it was appropriate, finding his clothes strewn on the floor, getting dressed. And when he was done, he’d looked at Adam, wrecked and scared and so sad that Kris’ already broken heart shattered just that little bit more.
“Hey.” He’d reached for Adam’s hands. “We’ll be okay.” It was a promise he had meant to keep. Not giving Adam a chance to say anything else, he’d hugged him, then run out of the house like it was on fire.
Getting past that night wasn’t easy but Kris tried. He needed Adam in his life even if it wasn’t the way Kris wished it could be.
He couldn’t stop loving Adam, that’s not how Kris was built, but he knew he could find a way to live with it. To keep Adam and just deal. He took a week off to let himself mourn a little. Hung out with Cale (who brought beer Kris did not drink, thank you, he learned his lesson), wrote some really bad lovelorn music that will never see the light of day (“Seriously, man, these are like songs to make you jump off a building”), and eventually he could breathe enough to go outside.
He waited another week to call Adam.
The relief in his voice made Kris feel better, and it was a little awkward but they pushed past it, making a tentative plan for lunch when Adam got back from his two month-long European tour.
It wasn’t going to be easy but Kris thought he could do it. He could get past that night, pretend it didn’t happen.
Six weeks later, after three days of non-stop nausea and vomiting, he went to the doctor (his mother was worried enough to make the appointment). He stared, unblinking when she looked up from her papers and said cheerfully, “Congratulations, Kris. You’re going to have a baby.”
Yeah. Timing.
Worst ever.
Kris wakes up slowly, stretching his legs and arms to shake off the remnants of grogginess that he feels so much more deeply these days. He rolls onto his back, eyes the messed up blankets on the other side of the bed, happiness rolling out from his chest to his toes. When he lays a palm down on the bed, it’s still slightly warm and Kris buries his face in the sheet, breathes deep.
Adam must have taken a nap as well, Kris thinks. He’d noticed the dark circles under Adam’s eyes, the worry that’s constantly there. He hates seeing that look on Adam, especially knowing it’s his fault.
He pushes up off the bed, heading for the bathroom, which is a room he’s becoming way more familiar with than he ever wanted to be. He takes care of his full bladder before splashing some cold water on his face, wiping a towel over it before taking a minute to look at his own reflection.
He doesn’t think he looks any different than he did before. Same brown eyes, same ridiculous hair that won’t stand down (Charles calls it fluffy), same face that’s just this side of not so bad. He thinks Scarlett is losing her mind with her talk of his “glow.” His face looks rounder, kind of like it did when he was in high school, but otherwise it’s still just him: Kris.
He rubs one hand over his slightly swelled stomach and sighs. “Let’s hope you look more like your Daddy and not your Papa, kiddo.” He breaks out into a smile at the thought of a little girl with red hair and blue eyes. (Adam asked him why he was convinced they were having a girl but Kris didn’t know how to answer, and he still doesn’t know, it’s just a feeling he has.)
The light coming in through the windows is waning and Kris looks over at the bedside table, the digital clock blinking two-oh-seven at him. He guesses the storm is probably still in full force if it looks so dark at this time of the afternoon. That bit of sleep has him completely awake, energy humming under his skin, and he thinks he can write the rest of that song now.
Kris leaves the bedroom, stepping into the suite and pausing as he stares at the huddles of people on various couches. Monte is splayed out across one end of the L-shaped sofa with Sasha on the other. Ronnie’s watching the television from the floor and glances up with a quick smile at Kris before going back to it. Brad and Cassidy are nowhere to be seen. He has no idea where everyone else is but the other two bedroom doors are closed so he doesn’t think about it too hard.
Tommy and Allison are cuddled together on the loveseat, her head lolling on his shoulder as she sleeps. He grins at Tommy when he raises a hand over his head, wiggles his fingers in a wave at Kris. Kris mouths “Adam?” and Tommy points to the other end of the room. He follows his finger and smiles softly at Adam curled up in the chaise he’d seen Alisan sitting in earlier.
Kris wonders why he got up from their-- the bed to come sleep out here but he pushes the thought away. He grabs a blanket hanging from the back of the couch and walks to Adam, pausing to watch him sleep. The worry lines are smoothed down on his face, his mouth is soft and Kris wants to brush his lips over it to see if it feels that way.
It surprises Kris how young Adam looks in sleep. Like all the stress just washes away and leaves him looking like he always should: peaceful and happy.
Not that Kris makes it a habit to watch Adam sleep. That’s creepy and way too stalkerish and he’s not that.
He’s not.
He glances behind to see Tommy watching him, smirk on his face, and Kris rolls his eyes, turning back to Adam. He covers him with the blanket. Adam snuffles, moves into the warmth of the covers then falls still again. Kris lets the breath he was holding out quietly, brushes one hand to push back the hair falling over Adam’s forehead and then moves to the door.
Kris makes some hand gestures at Tommy (he’s sure Brad would appreciate the pun in there) and waits until Tommy nods when he understands Kris’ “I love you guys but I need to get some space” meaning behind them. Ronnie gets up to follow, pausing when Kris shakes his head. He looks meaningfully back at Adam’s sleeping form, then turns pleading eyes toward Kris.
Kris wants to protest, but he knows Ronnie isn’t actually wrong. If Adam wakes up and finds out that Kris left alone…
He nods and Ronnie’s face lights up with relief. They move quietly out into the hall and then he turns to look at Kris in question.
“I thought I saw a piano somewhere in the lobby…” He lets the sentence trail away but Ronnie smiles and nods. “Okay. That’s where we’re heading.”
Writing has always been a way for Kris to express himself when he can’t find the words for what he wants to say to someone or about something. He’s not the type that can do that on the spot, when something is happening. But give him some time, paper and a pen, his guitar or a piano and the words manage to appear.
Sometimes the process is faster than others.
He stares down at the scribbles on the paper he’s laid down on the flat surface of the piano, frowning as he makes a correction. The song has been in his head for weeks. He’s been humming the tune for a while, and he’d been working on it in the cabin but it hadn’t been quite right. He’d realized at some point between being rescued and waking up from his nap that it needed to be written for the piano.
The melody feels right when he pushes down on the keys.
Ronnie is sitting near the back of the private room, reading when Kris isn’t playing, but otherwise paying attention to the song, bopping his head. It’s nice to have an audience, one as appreciative as Ronnie can be.
The door swings open and Kris stops playing, heart thumping a little faster when he hears the sound of heavy boot heels on the carpeted floor. Looking up, his stomach drops just a little at seeing that it’s Brad walking his way over to him. He tries for a bright smile but it doesn’t work.
“He sent me down to make sure you were okay. Said he thinks you needed a little time away from him.”
Kris nods but frowns down at his hands paused over the white and black keys. That’s actually the opposite of what he really wants. He wants Adam. He wants Adam to want him back. He’d like to wake up next to Adam every day. Go through this whole experience as two people who need each other. He wants to build a life for them and their daughter that is based on love, not obligation.
“Oh, Kris.”
He doesn’t know when the tears started falling but he bows his head, tries to keep them in. He really hates this part of the pregnancy. His emotions flying all over the place.
Kris is the non-crier in this family, for gosh sakes.
Brad’s warm hand curls around his neck and Kris leans into it, shifts when Brad leans his head on Kris’ shoulder. They stay that way for several long minutes, breathing in and out in rhythm, that and the sound of Ronnie flipping pages in his book the only noise in the room.
Brad sighs, pulls his head up and then leans his chin down on Kris’ shoulder, guiding his head to look at him.
Kris blinks back wetness to stare at him.
“Hormones are a bitch, baby.”
Kris snorts a laugh, pulls away from Brad and glances over at Ronnie, who is looking at them with a kind smile. Kris really likes Ronnie.
He starts to say something else when Brad straightens up, gives Kris a serious look before turning to Ronnie.
“Rockin’ Ron, you think you can leave me and The Littlest Idol alone? I promise to bring him back to the room relatively in one piece.”
Ronnie looks at Kris, who nods at him, then gathers his book and walks out without another word. Not that Ronnie ever really says anything, anyway.
“I do love the silent type,” Brad murmurs appreciatively as the door closes behind Ronnie. He turns to look at Kris, levels that scarily serious gaze at him again and leans in, grabbing Kris’ hand and leading them out.
“You and me, Kristopher, are about to have a long overdue chat.”
Kris doesn’t think suddenly feeling deathly afraid is an over-reaction at all.
| Part Two |
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me, only to themselves. No disrespect meant to anyone.
Warnings: Well, you know...MPREG, lol. But if that doesn't bother you, it's all good.
He’s pretty sure he’s dreaming.
That’s really all Kris can think when he’s woken up in the middle of the night to banging on the cabin door. It takes him a couple of minutes to remember where he is, already used to the light coming in through the window in Adam’s guest room. He shakes his head, pushing that out of his mind, and swings his legs off the bed. By the time he gets up and is heading toward the door, it’s rattling from the pounding it’s getting.
“Jesus. Hold on.”
He fumbles with the locks, glancing out the window at the snow that’s still falling, covering everything in sight, like it has been for the last day. He can’t imagine anyone being out in that.
Unless they had gotten stuck in it and had stumbled upon the cabin. Which probably meant they were close to freezing to death or something.
The thought makes him yank the door open.
He blinks when he finally focuses on the scene.
Adam is standing on the porch, engulfed in a thick silver parka, holding a flashlight which he shines in Kris’ direction, blinding him.
“Kris! Oh, thank god you’re okay, baby.”
Of course he’s okay. He’s not the lunatic out in the middle of the worst storm that Arkansas has seen in the last decade. He waves a hand at Adam. “Turn that off.”
“Oh, sorry.”
The light blinks out and Adam grabs him into a tight hug, dropping random kisses on his head. He ignores the way his heart kind of stutters at that and waits until his vision clears. When it does, he thinks that maybe all that bright light caused some damage, because it’s not possible that he’s seeing what he is.
“Adam?”
“Hmm?” Adam pulls back to look at his face.
“Is that a snow plow?”
Adam turns his head to glance over his shoulder, then back at Kris with a big grin. “Yes, it is.”
He takes in the scene: a snow plow followed by another car, filled with…
“Are those your friends in that car?”
Cam and Cassidy smile, their heads sticking out of the back window. Alisan is waving at him from the passenger seat. His gaze shifts to the huge monstrosity still roaring its engine. Is that…?
“Hey, Kris,” Tommy -- mostly covered up except for his face -- greets him with his free hand (the one not holding a shovel).
Kris waves back at him, and at Sasha, who has what he thinks is a first aid kit in her lap. Monte is in the driver’s seat, and he seems to be talking to someone Kris doesn’t recognize.
Except for the white coat that makes identifying what he is easier.
Kris looks up at Adam.
Adam makes a ta-da! gesture with his hands, looking a little sheepish at least, and exclaims, “We came to rescue you!”
It was actually Scarlett’s idea.
The first three months of the pregnancy had been horrible (which Kris thought was cruel and unusual punishment but his mother assured him was just a natural process), and between his morning sickness, the crankiness and fatigue, he hadn't exactly been fit for human consumption.
(He still feels pretty bad about Adam’s television.)
But Scarlett had ignored Kris’ hormone-induced emotional outbursts (he did not cry, no matter what Charles said) and made sure to help Kris out with whatever she could. Admittedly, it'd been nice to have someone to talk to when he freaked out (which he did, a few times, every day, for like two weeks straight) and to tell him about the good side to the whole situation.
Scarlett had been where Kris was, albeit not in the exact same situation, so her advice and support was really important to him.
And once everything calmed down, including his own body’s attempts at killing him, Kris was grateful for the friendship he’d made.
(Not that he didn’t like all of Adam’s friends, because he did, even Brad, but he’d always felt a little self-conscious in their presence. A little not glam, which-- well, really.)
Scarlett was funny, sweet but snarky, and pretty damn bossy to boot.
So when she looked across the table at him during one of their lunch dates and said, “Kristopher, you need some serious R&R, sweetheart, especially before the baby comes. Because trust me, once she is here, you’re going to wish so hard for it.”
He argued. He was in the middle of writing for his next album. Even if he hadn't actually written anything worthwhile in two months, he was supposed to be doing just that.
“Well, a vacation will help recharge you. Probably get those creative juices going. What you need is somewhere quiet, some solitude to think and write.”
Kris looked up at her with a smirk. “You trying to say I need a padded room, Scarlett?”
She laughed and they went back to their food, talked about her latest project, and Kris tried to completely forget the conversation.
But a week later, when he couldn't concentrate for all the noise in the house, he started to think she might have a point. Adam had hired people to build a nursery, and though Kris understands how important that is, it's not a way he can function. (It was one of the reasons he’d been so adamant against moving into Adam’s house, but he’d relented because Adam had given him that wounded look and Kris can’t actually bear to see that, would do pretty much anything to make it go away… Which is how they've gotten to where they are.)
He remembered the family cabin, and after calling his dad to make sure it was habitable, he arranged his transportation, got Lizzie to push back any appointments he had for the week, called both Leila and his mother to tell them where he'd be, and then left Adam a message letting him know his plan.
(Granted, he waited until he knew Adam would be on stage before leaving the message, to avoid the argument he was pretty sure would occur, but at least he told him.)
And it went really well.
His dad sent someone ahead to clean up the cabin so when Kris got there it was ready. Kris was able to breathe for the first time in months when he stepped through the door. It was calm and soothing. Quiet and serene. Something he hadn't been able to experience in a while. Even if Kris pretty much loved all the noise and crazy currently in his life, he couldn't help but need a reprieve.
He started writing almost right away, his guitar in his arms, pen at the ready, which was why he didn't notice the raging blizzard outside his window until almost sundown. When he did see all the white covering everything in sight, he reached for his phone to find he had no signal.
He figured his parents and Leila wouldn't worry too much.
But Adam… he knew Adam was going to have a fit. He worried as it was, all the time.
Too much, if you asked Kris. (But no one did, so.) Part of him warmed at knowing that, his heart bursting with love for Adam, and the other wished it meant more than it did.
There wasn't anything he could do until the storm passed and he could call out again. He planned to contact Adam immediately, as soon as the lines opened up, to reassure him that they were fine.
Kris didn't mind the solitude, cut off from the world for some time. He enjoyed being alone, though now he really wasn't. He smoothed a hand across his stomach and smiled. This was good. He could work like this.
There was plenty of food in the kitchen and firewood in the storage closet. A lot of DVDs and CDs available when he needed a break. The book Tommy had insisted Kris would “love. It’s gnarly, Kris!” sitting on the nightstand.
He could easily last a week before he needed to start worrying. Kris was pretty sure the storm wouldn't be lasting that long.
When the exhaustion hit, Kris set his work aside and headed to the bedroom. He’d stolen Adam’s comforter from his bed before leaving the house, something he always did when Adam was out of town and Kris couldn't get his daily Adam fix. It smelled like Adam, and Kris liked to curl up in it.
So he did, falling asleep easier than he had in weeks.
And then Adam showed up at his door, throwing his peace into shambles.
It really was fucking symbolic.
Kris watches the crowd of people trample in through the door, greeting him with a hug or kiss or both (except in the case of the nervous-looking doctor who enters with Monte, and seriously, this is not happening), before turning to look at Adam. Kris thinks this is the most surreal dream ever or-- no, it’s his life. Really.
Adam takes one look at his face, grabs his arm and pushes Kris in the direction of the bedroom, saying over his shoulder, “Just hang a minute, guys.”
He closes the bedroom door and turns to Kris.
“Okay, I can explain.”
Kris crosses his arms and waits.
“I, maybe, overreacted a little when they told me where you were and how no one could reach you--”
“It’s only been a day, Adam!” Kris throws his hands up, narrows his eyes. “Wait, how did you know I was here?” His mother wouldn’t have told him, since Kris asked that no one bother him. Leila probably wouldn’t have either. “I didn’t mention exactly where I was in my message.”
“Neil.”
Neil?
“I didn’t tell him--” Then it dawns on him. “My father, Neil?”
“Well, he was a little worried, too.”
Traitor. See if Kris lets him see his grandkid before she turns eighteen.
Adam looks amused and Kris glares.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just missed your face.”
Kris tells his stupid heart to stop it.
“Adam, seriously? Did you just haul half your band and friends, not to mention a doctor -- and where the hell did you get him from -- through a snowstorm to come and rescue me from a perfectly comfortable vacation?”
“Well, I needed backup. Just in case. And the doctor was at the hotel for emergencies, so I kind of sequestered him. And the snow plow.”
“You kidnapped him?” Kris asks, incredulous.
“That’s a strong word. I borrowed them both.”
“You stole them!”
“Stealing means you have no intention of returning. As soon as you grab your things and we return to the hotel, they’ll both be back where they belong.”
Kris doesn’t even know what to say to that.
“I-- Adam, I’m in the middle of writing--”
“Which you could do at the hotel. The place is amazing, Kris.”
Kris groans, wipes a hand down his face and counts to ten.
This is so like Adam. To just dive head first, no thinking about it, going with his instincts, and if Kris didn’t love him so much, he’d seriously hate him right about this moment.
He tries a different tactic.
“Adam, listen to me. I’m okay. See? All in one piece. The baby is fine. There’s plenty of food. I’ll be back at your house in a week. Like I said. Please, just-- I need this.”
Adam shakes his head. “What if something happens?”
“Nothing will.”
He waits to see what comes next, and then Adam’s eyes light up and he grins. “I can stay with you.”
Oh, hell no.
He can’t be alone with Adam because he‘ll do something stupid. Like tell him he loves him. It’s the one of the other reasons that he needs a little space (and he’s pretty sure Scarlett knew that when she made her suggestion): his resistance to Adam is pretty low.
It’s too much want and need and can’t have all rolled into this one man.
It’s hard to breathe around him some days.
Living with Adam is like a wonderfully horrible kind of torture. He needs the space to be able to think and rebuild those walls that have crumbled since he moved in with him.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Adam smiles at him, the one that’s wide and real. “It’s a great idea.”
“You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”
Adam shakes his head.
Kris sighs, turns his back to Adam and tries to think of a solution. Nothing is really coming to him.
“You’re mad at me.”
Kris resists the urge to snap at Adam that no, he’s not mad, because honestly it’s not Adam, it’s Kris’ hormones and he knows that. Adam is just being his sweet, wonderful, really fucking hot self in that ridiculous silver parka and the smudged eyeliner around his fucking gorgeous eyes and his teeth biting on his lips in worry and Kris really needs to not be looking at him right this moment because damn it he’s hard and aching and this, this was why he needed time away.
Instead he shakes his head, admonishes himself silently for all the internal cursing he seems to be doing these days, and says a quick, “I’m not.”
Adam tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow. “Yes, you are.”
Kris glares at him. “Adam.”
Adam stares back, and after a minute Kris sighs, shoulders slumping. He’s really just so tired.
“I may be a little irritated but I’m not mad.”
He can hear the commotion in the other room, voices carrying through the crack under the door, and he just breathes through the need to make them all leave him alone with his peace and quiet. The song that’s been rolling around in his head for weeks is getting louder and Kris needs to get it out.
Adam takes a step closer, crowding into Kris’ space, making his heart race, his breath quickening at the proximity. He’s been really good at keeping his distance from Adam. He wants to back away but Adam’s hand reaches up to touch Kris’ face, fingers tracing over his cheek, and he can’t help but meet Adam’s eyes, freezes at the sincerity there.
“I was-- I was really worried, Kris.”
Kris looks away, nods as Adam’s hand falls away.
“I know you worry about the baby but Adam--”
“That’s not the only reason I was freaked, Kris. I just-- I need you both to be safe. Do you understand that?”
Kris feels that familiar rush of hope and want and fear rush up and he can’t let himself go there. Can’t really believe it, because Adam had said no and the only thing different between then and now was the baby.
He looks up at Adam’s face, open and scared and just a little bit annoyed, and Kris smiles despite himself. He moves forward, watches Adam’s eyes widen when Kris’ hands cup his face. “I get it, yeah. But you gotta know I’m not gonna do anything that’s gonna hurt her. You know that, right?”
“I know,” Adam whispers and something changes, his gaze darkens and moves from Kris’ eyes to his lips. It makes him nervous, makes him drop his hands, and Kris opens his mouth to say anything that will break the spell but Adam is fast, and suddenly his fingers are stroking over Kris’ lips. He feels a little dizzy, thinks that’s the reason he’s swaying into Adam and…
“Hey, guys-- oh, shit. Sorry.” Tommy gives them an apologetic look, starts back out the door, and Kris takes the moment to move away from Adam.
“It’s okay, Tommy Joe.” He glances back at Tommy, smiles softly before returning his gaze to Adam.
Adam keeps his eyes on Kris’ face, searching for something and Kris isn’t sure what it might be. “What did you need, Tommy?”
“Oh, right. Well, the snow’s not letting up and probably won’t be for a while. And um, the doc says he really needs to get back to the hotel, you know, just in case, so we should probably head back.” Tommy is looking from Adam to Kris and back expectantly.
Adam just blinks at Kris, waiting for him to say the word.
Kris knows Adam won’t leave him here, not with the storm still raging for who knows how long. He’ll stay with Kris and drive him nuts with his face and his hands and his voice. He won’t be able to escape him for even a minute in this stupid cabin.
Kris turns away from Adam’s heated glare, bends to pull the duffel bag from under the bed and heads to the small dresser where he’d dumped his clothes.
“Can one of you grab the guitar, please?”
He doesn’t look at Adam but Kris can sense his smile without needing to see it.
Fine. He’ll go to the stupid hotel and stay with Adam and let him feed him and worry over him. Then he’ll bribe someone to distract Adam so Kris can find a hiding place (he’ll have better luck there than here) to finish his song.
In quiet.
“Let’s rock and roll, people!” Tommy yells and Kris cringes, breathes deep when he hears his, “For fuck’s sake, Sasha, that’s Kris’ guitar!”
Hiding place. For sure.
Kris is in love with Adam.
He has been for a very long time (possibly longer than he should have been).
That’s not the problem.
It’s that Kris has horrible timing. Like, the worst. Ever.
If he’d just realized sooner after his divorce (or paid more attention to the hints Katy kept dropping about it) then he would have talked to Adam. Maybe figured out if he felt the same way. (He thinks that Katy calling him an idiot when he told her this was uncalled for. Really.) He could have, at least, gotten it off his chest, worked through it and somehow managed to get over it. (Not that he actually thinks that’s a possibility. but he would have liked to have been able to try.)
But he didn’t think too closely about his feelings for Adam. He took everything bottled inside, the burning and aching he felt, and turned it into his third album. The one that had gone platinum practically overnight, and Kris had been caught up in the touring, the media blitz, and everything that came with that.
And Adam had been there for it. Encouraging Kris. Telling him how proud he was. Making him shut up when Kris said he didn’t think he deserved it. He made it easier for Kris, sweeter and crazier.
By the time he’d found the courage to admit that he was in love, stupidly and desperately, a year had passed.
The thing about Kris, though, is that once he knows something, once he understands what he wants, he takes the steps to get it.
So he’d no sooner landed in L.A. than he was headed to Adam’s. Trying to find the words to tell him how he felt as he knocked on the door to Adam’s house.
And that’s when he’d met Preston.
Kris couldn’t breathe as Adam introduced him (after yelling at Kris for not telling him he was coming back home, then crushing him in a warm hug) to the dancer he’d met on the brief tour he’d given in Europe. His eyes bright and happy as he looked at Kris, hands on Preston’s waist always moving, and smile so wide Kris thought it might actually break his face.
Adam hadn’t looked so content in as long as Kris could remember.
Kris was apparently a better actor than he’d given himself credit for because he smiled back, hugged and congratulated Adam, sitting at the dining room table with everyone Adam had invited to what he learned was Preston’s introduction to his group of friends. Kris ate and drank, laughing at the right moments, ignoring his breaking heart.
(He remembers the look Brad gave him from across the table and how he’d hugged Kris a little tighter at the end of the night.)
And that was it.
Adam had found someone and Preston was awesome. He was funny and really sweet and Kris actually liked him, which made everything suck even more.
Katy tried to talk him into telling Adam, anyway. Said he should know because it wasn’t fair otherwise.
But…
What would be the point?
Because this-- this was Adam.
Adam.
Amazing and ridiculously talented and gorgeous and funny and glittery and everything good that Kris could think of.
Kris was…
Well, he was just Kris, and honestly, what chance did he have? (Katy had actually hit him for that one.)
So he shut off all those kind of thoughts about Adam, buried his feelings as deep as he could, and went back to living the life he’d been building before his big self-revelation.
For the most part, it worked.
Then one day Preston and Adam ended.
And everything changed completely.
The ride down the mountain to the hotel is pretty uneventful, even as the snow keeps dropping fast in big fat flakes. Kris listens to Tommy and Sasha argue over some new arrangements the band was working on, giving his opinion when they ask. Alisan and Adam are having an intense conversation in the seat across from them that Kris can’t and -- with the glances they keep flicking his way -- doesn’t really want to hear. He tries to concentrate on the road, hopes that Monte can handle the snow plow that’s clearing their way.
He can’t decide if he’s happy that Adam is giving him space or if that’s the reason his stomach feels twisted in knots. He knows it’s nerves and thankfully not the morning sickness that plagued him at the beginning. He pats his belly gently, murmurs a soft, “It’s alright, kiddo,” and looks up in time to catch Adam watching him, expression caught between adoring and worry. It’s his default setting these days. Kris mouths, “It’s all good,” and receives a grin in return.
His heart does that stupid fluttering thing it always does and Kris bites back a sigh.
He is doomed.
It doesn’t take long to reach the hotel (thankfully) and he doesn’t say anything when Adam helps him out of the car, guides him into the lobby. (So, maybe he is feeling a little guilty for not giving Adam more of a heads up.) Adam’s fingers flex on his waist, making Kris look up and smile. He notices the way Adam’s eyes soften at the edges and he opens his mouth to say something.
The screeching -- because, really, that’s the only way Kris can describe it -- of his name from across the room startles them and Kris turns his head in time to see a red streak of energy and hair coming toward him. He opens his arms to hug Allison back, laughing when she clutches at him hard.
“Allison!” Kris hears the exasperation in Adam’s voice and feels hands pulling at Alli’s arms.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Adam. It’s not like she can squeeze the kid out of him or anything.”
Kris looks up, grinning as Brad closes in on him and piles onto the hug, making it hard for Kris to breathe.
“Seriously?” Adam says through a loud sigh and Brad pulls away, rolling his eyes.
When Allison finally lets him go, she hits him on the shoulder. “What the hell, Kris? Scaring the shit out of us like that. It’s not cool, bro.”
“Oh. Jeez. I didn’t run away from home, Allison.” He ignores the way Brad’s eyebrow raises up slightly. “I just needed some quiet to write. That’s all.”
“Whatever. You should have called. Or at least a text. I have to hear from Adam that you’re, like, missing.”
He turns to look at Adam, who stares back at him. “Tell me she’s kidding, Adam.”
Brad shakes his head. “Nope. He gathered the troops for Operation: Save Kristopher, even though some of us told him he was being ridiculous.”
He really looks at Adam, sees the shadows under his eyes and the guilt grows exponentially, his chest aching from having done that to him. “Adam.”
Before he can say anything else, Monte is heading toward them with the older man in the white coat -- Dr. Echelon, Kris remembers Adam having called him --and the next few minutes are spent having Kris checked out. He grits his teeth through it because Adam seems less tense as the doctor examines him.
“All right, Kris. You’re perfectly healthy. Are you feeling okay? Any nausea? Pain?”
Kris shakes his head, waves a hand. “Past that.”
“Good. I don’t have any equipment here to monitor the baby, but I think everything is fine.” He smiles kindly at Kris and then Adam.
Kris watches Adam’s shoulders relax and feels that stab in his chest again. He reaches a hand out, grabs Adam’s, and lacing their fingers, pulls him closer. Adam moves easily, bending to look Kris in the eye, swallowing visibly when Kris touches his cheek.
“Stop worrying so much, please.” He wrinkles his nose and sighs. “Because seriously, Adam, we’ve got another four and a half months of this, okay? And I cannot take you freaking out on me every time I, like, sneeze or pick up a box.”
Adam gives him a sheepish smile. “It looked heavy.”
Kris rolls his eyes, leans his forehead on Adam’s and lets out a soft laugh. “It had pillows in it, Adam.” From this close up, he can see the way Adam’s eyelashes fan out on his face. “I love our baby, you know that. I’m not going to take any chances with her. You got to trust me on this.”
Adam looks surprised, then earnest when he whispers a soft, “I do.”
Kris pulls back to gauge Adam’s face, and satisfied that he means it, he lets his hand fall onto his lap and turns to glance up at the doctor. “So, I can totally walk on my own right, Doc? I’m not going to need a wheelchair or some huge bodyguard to carry me?” He sees Ronnie move into position in the background and bites back a grin. “No matter how awesome of a bodyguard they are.”
Dr. Echelon smiles warmly and shakes his head. “You’re fine.”
Kris turns to look at Adam. “See? Now that the medical professional has spoken, and you’ve forced me here, mind showing me where I’m staying?”
Everyone, with the exception of Brad and Allison who are hovering just out of sight, has scattered to parts unknown . Kris isn’t even going to ask where or what they might be up to. He looks over at Adam, raising an eyebrow.
Adam sighs heavily. “This way, baby.”
The room is ridiculous.
He can’t even call it a room. It’s more a suite. Or a house magically built into the floor.
Kris and his family had been visiting this area for years and he didn’t even know that this hotel had something so… huge. And decadent.
There are fires burning in both the living room and the sitting room fireplaces. (He has no idea what the difference between the two rooms is, really.) It’s warm and cozy, everything done in light browns, greens. The entertainment center has a huge plasma TV with the works. He blinks at Tommy, Monte and Cassidy, sprawled over the furniture, watching what looks like some cooking show.
Alisan is lounging on a long-backed chair that Kris doesn’t know the name of, flipping through a magazine. She glances up and grins his way, winking when he smiles back.
There are noises coming from what he thinks is probably the kitchen. He figures Sasha must be in there with Ronnie, and from the smells wafting out the door, they are cooking up something.
Brad and Allison plop down on the empty loveseat, immediately digging into the popcorn that Tommy hands them. He has no idea where Cam went but he figures she might be in one of the three bedrooms he assumes are behind the closed doors around him.
He feels Adam’s hands on his back, pushing him gently in the direction of one of the doors that open up into the living room. They step through and all the noise is muffled to a quiet murmur of voices and sounds when the door shuts behind them. Kris closes his eyes and breathes deeply.
God knows he loves every single one of those people, but he is too tired to deal with it all. He glances around the room, seeing Adam’s luggage sitting in one corner, clothes spilling out and to the floor.
His duffel bag has been brought up, he assumes while he was being checked over, and sits neatly on the bed.
He blinks then turns to Adam.
“Um. Are we…?”
Adam stops rummaging through his bag and looks up, smiling softly. “What?”
They are sharing a room.
“Are we all staying here? In the suite, I mean?”
Adam gives him an apologetic look. “It’s all they had left when we got here. It’s only for a few days.”
“And we’re a sharing a room?”
Adam nods, biting his lip, something close to hurt crossing his face. “We can trade--”
Kris shakes his head, waves at Adam. “No. It’s fine. Of course. I just--” He glances at the bed and cuts off whatever he’d been about to say. It doesn’t matter. He’s shared a room with Adam before, several times actually, and they’d managed to sleep in the same bed without anything happening.
Just because he’s crazy in love with Adam, can barely keep his hands to himself when Adam is within his reach, has hormones raging through his system making Kris want him so much it physically hurts, and he had ended up sleeping with him the last time they had shared a bed, doesn’t mean he can’t control himself this time.
Adam’s staring at him when he glances up, eyes dark and heated, making Kris shudder quietly, something hot unfurling in his stomach, making it hard to breathe.
He is so screwed.
It was all about timing, really. (That’s something that everyone was always telling him. That he needed to learn when to do something.)
The truth is that Kris should have waited.
When he’d gotten the call from Brad informing him that Adam and Preston had ended things (“and baby, it was ugly, let me tell you“), what Kris should have done was call Adam on the phone. Listen to him from a safe distance where he couldn’t see his face, wouldn’t be able to touch him but could still be there in some form. That would have the best course of action right then.
What he did was completely different.
He’d barely hung up with Brad before he was in his car on his way to Adam’s, a bottle of tequila in a brown bag in the backseat, take out from Pinto Thai (because he was pretty sure Adam hadn’t eaten all day, drinking on empty stomachs would end with terrible hangovers, and he wanted to avoid as much damage as he could), and a gallon of Rocky Road.
Adam would complain but Kris figured he’d eat it anyway.
He’d let himself in with the spare key Adam had given him (“I don’t want to have to wake up to let you in at your disgusting, early morning visiting hours, okay?”), stepped through the door and followed the sound of the television. Adam sat on the couch, head leaning on the arm, body splayed out on it. He turned to look at Kris, greeting him with a sad smile, and it was all Kris could do not to drop everything, crawl onto the couch and pull Adam into his arms.
He fed Adam, made him get up and move to his room because if they were going to pass out it was not going to be on the couch. When they were comfortable on Adam’s ridiculous eight hundred thread count sheets, Kris cracked open the tequila bottle and poured them shots from the glasses he’d grabbed in the kitchen. The liquid burned on the way down. Kris heard Adam hiss as he swallowed his, and then proceeded to pour another one.
He doesn’t remember how long they went on for. Adam talked about how he’d known it wasn’t supposed to last forever but he thought he’d get more time with Preston. That he thought this time he’d be able to keep his happiness for a lot longer. He talked about all the moments where he thought he was in love again. Kris pushed down on the ugly emotion that wanted to rear its stupid green head. He was here for Adam. Like Adam had been for him after Katy. So he patted Adam’s head as he talked, running his fingers through the dark strands and pretending the warmth he felt was the tequila.
“It’s like-- like I’m supposed to be alone forever,” Adam had moaned, turning his head to look at Kris with big blue eyes, damp with tears.
Kris scowled at him. (Or what could pass for scowling when he didn’t have full control over his facial muscles.) “That’s-- Don’t be stupid, Lambert. You aren’t alone, Adam.”
Adam’s eyebrows went up.
“You’ve got Leila and Eber, Neil and Brad, Cassidy, and a whole bunch of us. You are not alone, baby.”
Those eyes widened, as surprised as Kris was at the words, and stared right at him. After a long moment Adam breathed out a quiet, “Do I have you, Kristopher?”
And oh, Kris was only human, okay? And a little drunk. (Really drunk, so his normal this a bad idea, don’t do it warning system was in the off position.)
Kris leaned in and kissed Adam, hot and wet, deep, pressing his lips against Adam’s until they gave way and he slipped his way inside. It took Adam a moment to catch up, probably too shocked at first, Kris was never sure, but then he moaned and opened his mouth, caught Kris’ lip between his and rolled them over.
He doesn’t remember everything.
There was warmth pushing him down, Adam’s skin on his tongue, Adam’s hands on Kris’ hips, holding him still while he wrapped his mouth around Kris, making him arch up, dragging sounds out of Kris he’d never made, growls and pleading, promises whispered that he'd kept hidden inside. They kissed until Kris couldn’t breathe, until he was forced to gulp in air, Adam’s face resting against his neck, licking and sucking, fingers finding their way into Kris, breaching the fuzzy happiness with pain, making him just a little sharper and then Adam was inside, pushing and stroking, muttering words Kris couldn’t recall but he knew had been said, felt it in his bones and his skin.
When he woke up, Kris had realized pretty instantly what had happened and he’d tried to hide his smile in the pillow.
It wasn’t how he would have wanted to… but now he could tell Adam, now he knew Adam wanted him. That was all he needed. He could wait for the rest.
He turned to find Adam sitting up in bed, leaning against the headboard, and before he could speak, he caught the devastated look on Adam’s face, the way his mouth tightened when he realized Kris was looking at him.
“Kris-- I shouldn’t-- I’m sorry.”
He’d been pretty sure nothing would have felt as horrible as his marriage ending.
Kris seemed to be wrong on a lot of things.
Adam was talking about having taken advantage of him, how he didn’t want to lose Kris because he was his best friend and if he couldn’t have that he wasn’t sure what to do, saying that Kris deserved more than Adam could give. That he knew it had been the drinks and nothing meant anything.
Blah. Blah. Blah.
He’s not sure why Adam kept talking while Kris’ heart broke at his feet.
Kris doesn’t remember any of what Adam was saying. He nodded when he thought it was appropriate, finding his clothes strewn on the floor, getting dressed. And when he was done, he’d looked at Adam, wrecked and scared and so sad that Kris’ already broken heart shattered just that little bit more.
“Hey.” He’d reached for Adam’s hands. “We’ll be okay.” It was a promise he had meant to keep. Not giving Adam a chance to say anything else, he’d hugged him, then run out of the house like it was on fire.
Getting past that night wasn’t easy but Kris tried. He needed Adam in his life even if it wasn’t the way Kris wished it could be.
He couldn’t stop loving Adam, that’s not how Kris was built, but he knew he could find a way to live with it. To keep Adam and just deal. He took a week off to let himself mourn a little. Hung out with Cale (who brought beer Kris did not drink, thank you, he learned his lesson), wrote some really bad lovelorn music that will never see the light of day (“Seriously, man, these are like songs to make you jump off a building”), and eventually he could breathe enough to go outside.
He waited another week to call Adam.
The relief in his voice made Kris feel better, and it was a little awkward but they pushed past it, making a tentative plan for lunch when Adam got back from his two month-long European tour.
It wasn’t going to be easy but Kris thought he could do it. He could get past that night, pretend it didn’t happen.
Six weeks later, after three days of non-stop nausea and vomiting, he went to the doctor (his mother was worried enough to make the appointment). He stared, unblinking when she looked up from her papers and said cheerfully, “Congratulations, Kris. You’re going to have a baby.”
Yeah. Timing.
Worst ever.
Kris wakes up slowly, stretching his legs and arms to shake off the remnants of grogginess that he feels so much more deeply these days. He rolls onto his back, eyes the messed up blankets on the other side of the bed, happiness rolling out from his chest to his toes. When he lays a palm down on the bed, it’s still slightly warm and Kris buries his face in the sheet, breathes deep.
Adam must have taken a nap as well, Kris thinks. He’d noticed the dark circles under Adam’s eyes, the worry that’s constantly there. He hates seeing that look on Adam, especially knowing it’s his fault.
He pushes up off the bed, heading for the bathroom, which is a room he’s becoming way more familiar with than he ever wanted to be. He takes care of his full bladder before splashing some cold water on his face, wiping a towel over it before taking a minute to look at his own reflection.
He doesn’t think he looks any different than he did before. Same brown eyes, same ridiculous hair that won’t stand down (Charles calls it fluffy), same face that’s just this side of not so bad. He thinks Scarlett is losing her mind with her talk of his “glow.” His face looks rounder, kind of like it did when he was in high school, but otherwise it’s still just him: Kris.
He rubs one hand over his slightly swelled stomach and sighs. “Let’s hope you look more like your Daddy and not your Papa, kiddo.” He breaks out into a smile at the thought of a little girl with red hair and blue eyes. (Adam asked him why he was convinced they were having a girl but Kris didn’t know how to answer, and he still doesn’t know, it’s just a feeling he has.)
The light coming in through the windows is waning and Kris looks over at the bedside table, the digital clock blinking two-oh-seven at him. He guesses the storm is probably still in full force if it looks so dark at this time of the afternoon. That bit of sleep has him completely awake, energy humming under his skin, and he thinks he can write the rest of that song now.
Kris leaves the bedroom, stepping into the suite and pausing as he stares at the huddles of people on various couches. Monte is splayed out across one end of the L-shaped sofa with Sasha on the other. Ronnie’s watching the television from the floor and glances up with a quick smile at Kris before going back to it. Brad and Cassidy are nowhere to be seen. He has no idea where everyone else is but the other two bedroom doors are closed so he doesn’t think about it too hard.
Tommy and Allison are cuddled together on the loveseat, her head lolling on his shoulder as she sleeps. He grins at Tommy when he raises a hand over his head, wiggles his fingers in a wave at Kris. Kris mouths “Adam?” and Tommy points to the other end of the room. He follows his finger and smiles softly at Adam curled up in the chaise he’d seen Alisan sitting in earlier.
Kris wonders why he got up from their-- the bed to come sleep out here but he pushes the thought away. He grabs a blanket hanging from the back of the couch and walks to Adam, pausing to watch him sleep. The worry lines are smoothed down on his face, his mouth is soft and Kris wants to brush his lips over it to see if it feels that way.
It surprises Kris how young Adam looks in sleep. Like all the stress just washes away and leaves him looking like he always should: peaceful and happy.
Not that Kris makes it a habit to watch Adam sleep. That’s creepy and way too stalkerish and he’s not that.
He’s not.
He glances behind to see Tommy watching him, smirk on his face, and Kris rolls his eyes, turning back to Adam. He covers him with the blanket. Adam snuffles, moves into the warmth of the covers then falls still again. Kris lets the breath he was holding out quietly, brushes one hand to push back the hair falling over Adam’s forehead and then moves to the door.
Kris makes some hand gestures at Tommy (he’s sure Brad would appreciate the pun in there) and waits until Tommy nods when he understands Kris’ “I love you guys but I need to get some space” meaning behind them. Ronnie gets up to follow, pausing when Kris shakes his head. He looks meaningfully back at Adam’s sleeping form, then turns pleading eyes toward Kris.
Kris wants to protest, but he knows Ronnie isn’t actually wrong. If Adam wakes up and finds out that Kris left alone…
He nods and Ronnie’s face lights up with relief. They move quietly out into the hall and then he turns to look at Kris in question.
“I thought I saw a piano somewhere in the lobby…” He lets the sentence trail away but Ronnie smiles and nods. “Okay. That’s where we’re heading.”
Writing has always been a way for Kris to express himself when he can’t find the words for what he wants to say to someone or about something. He’s not the type that can do that on the spot, when something is happening. But give him some time, paper and a pen, his guitar or a piano and the words manage to appear.
Sometimes the process is faster than others.
He stares down at the scribbles on the paper he’s laid down on the flat surface of the piano, frowning as he makes a correction. The song has been in his head for weeks. He’s been humming the tune for a while, and he’d been working on it in the cabin but it hadn’t been quite right. He’d realized at some point between being rescued and waking up from his nap that it needed to be written for the piano.
The melody feels right when he pushes down on the keys.
Ronnie is sitting near the back of the private room, reading when Kris isn’t playing, but otherwise paying attention to the song, bopping his head. It’s nice to have an audience, one as appreciative as Ronnie can be.
The door swings open and Kris stops playing, heart thumping a little faster when he hears the sound of heavy boot heels on the carpeted floor. Looking up, his stomach drops just a little at seeing that it’s Brad walking his way over to him. He tries for a bright smile but it doesn’t work.
“He sent me down to make sure you were okay. Said he thinks you needed a little time away from him.”
Kris nods but frowns down at his hands paused over the white and black keys. That’s actually the opposite of what he really wants. He wants Adam. He wants Adam to want him back. He’d like to wake up next to Adam every day. Go through this whole experience as two people who need each other. He wants to build a life for them and their daughter that is based on love, not obligation.
“Oh, Kris.”
He doesn’t know when the tears started falling but he bows his head, tries to keep them in. He really hates this part of the pregnancy. His emotions flying all over the place.
Kris is the non-crier in this family, for gosh sakes.
Brad’s warm hand curls around his neck and Kris leans into it, shifts when Brad leans his head on Kris’ shoulder. They stay that way for several long minutes, breathing in and out in rhythm, that and the sound of Ronnie flipping pages in his book the only noise in the room.
Brad sighs, pulls his head up and then leans his chin down on Kris’ shoulder, guiding his head to look at him.
Kris blinks back wetness to stare at him.
“Hormones are a bitch, baby.”
Kris snorts a laugh, pulls away from Brad and glances over at Ronnie, who is looking at them with a kind smile. Kris really likes Ronnie.
He starts to say something else when Brad straightens up, gives Kris a serious look before turning to Ronnie.
“Rockin’ Ron, you think you can leave me and The Littlest Idol alone? I promise to bring him back to the room relatively in one piece.”
Ronnie looks at Kris, who nods at him, then gathers his book and walks out without another word. Not that Ronnie ever really says anything, anyway.
“I do love the silent type,” Brad murmurs appreciatively as the door closes behind Ronnie. He turns to look at Kris, levels that scarily serious gaze at him again and leans in, grabbing Kris’ hand and leading them out.
“You and me, Kristopher, are about to have a long overdue chat.”
Kris doesn’t think suddenly feeling deathly afraid is an over-reaction at all.
| Part Two |
