fic: crumble and fall (like and animal) - part one

[freakykat]

Title: crumble and fall (like an animal)
Author: freakykat
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Kris Allen/Adam Lambert

Summary: Kris knew from the first moment he met Adam that they were supposed to be something important.






crumble and fall (like an animal)



No one ever notices him.

It used to be bother Kris, once upon a time when he had wanted someone to notice, but it works better for him now. He leans back in his seat, watches Lee try to convince the council that they need help protecting the boundaries of Illinois, especially since the attack on Michigan. He talks figures: this many can die, that many that will join forces, the revenue the state could bring in. Kris frowns as he looks around the room.

They won't help them. The state isn't one of theirs, not a lycan territory and that's the only fact that matters to the council. His gaze stops on Danny, the interim head of this region, reigning Prince of Milwaukee and knows that Lee isn't going to get anywhere. Danny isn't listening, stare somewhere off in the distance, and Kris wonders why they made him come to this.

Losing your mate does a number of things to your mind and spirit. Danny's loss is still too fresh.

“Thank you for that, Mr. DeWyze. I understand the predicament of the mages. We all do. However --”

Kris sees Lee's face fall, watches him nod mutely as Danny explains why they won't stop Cowell from taking over their land, killing the people he has no use for, grabbing another bit of their world.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he would normally ignore it, turn it off completely and politely finish listening to the presentations being given. But he's been expecting this call.

And why they're calling.

He stands abruptly, a few heads turning to glance at him before returning back to the front of the room. Kris mutters a quiet, “Excuse me a moment,” to no one in particular – his mother taught him manners though – before heading out into the hall. He glances up at the crossbeams, glittering black and just beyond the dark blanket of the night sky that seems like it's pressed up against the glass ceiling. Monte appears from nowhere, stands just off to the side and Kris nods at him.

There's a lot of movement around him and he finds a quiet corner, pressing on the answer button.

“Took you long enough, Kristopher.”

Kris almost smiles at Brad's tone. It's on his daily to-do-list to somehow thwart Brad in some way. “I'm sorry, Bradley. I was only chatting with the Royal Council about non-important clan business. I forget sometimes you come first.”

He bites his lip when he realizes and opens his mouth to tell Brad not to –

“I do like coming first.”

Then a pause – “And you were chatting? Really?”

Kris sighs, rubs a hand over his face, scrubbing at his eyes to try to focus on this conversation. “Brad, I don't have time for this. Just tell me --”

“I found him.”

Everything closes in around him, making Kris sway on his feet and he reaches out with his free hand for the wall, needing that extra support. All the air seems to have left his lungs and there's a rushing in his ears. He can hear the faint sound of Brad talking to him, his voice taking on an alarmed tone but Kris can't reassure him. He needs to remember how to breathe.

Someone is pulling the phone from his hand and talking with Brad. Kris registers that it's Monte but then his thoughts are running loose, incoherent even to him. Brad found him? What would he have to say to get him to--? Would he care enough? He can't think.

There was no way Kris ever thought Brad would actually manage this.

He forces his mind to clear, takes back a lungful of air and meets Monte's concerned glare. “It's okay. I'm fine. Let me talk to him.”

Monte doesn't believe him but it's not like he can say no to Kris.

He's the Prince for crying out loud. Kris takes the phone back and turns slightly away to finish this conversation.

“Kris?”

“Yeah. Yes. I'm here. Just tell me.”

Brad sighs. “If I’d known you'd have a heart attack or something I would have waited until I got home. Don't do that to me, honey, okay?”

“I'm sorry.” And then after a pause – “You're sure it's him?”

He can practically hear Brad roll his eyes. “Baby, you sent me because you know I wouldn't mistake anyone else for Adam.”

Kris nods even though Brad can't see him and says, “Did you talk with him?”

“No. I was under the impression that wasn't what you wanted.” Brad's tone said that Kris should know better.

He did, though. It didn't matter that Adam had known Brad first, loved him completely once, that their connection was still something Kris envied...Brad was nothing if not loyal and his loyalty was to Kris. There's a noise behind him and he see Lee leaving the conference room, head down. Clearing his throat, he looks at Monte, nodding his head toward him and Monte nods, moving toward Lee, stopping him before he leaves. Kris turns his attention back to the phone.

“I know this wasn't easy for you and I just – Brad, I'm really grateful that you–”

He hears the low chuckle over the line, stops as his face reddens. Brad can still make him feel fifteen sometimes.

“Shut up, Kris.”

Kris smiles.

“So are you still doing this yourself?”

It's the only way he'll get the Council to allow it. He doesn't have a choice anymore.

“Yes.”

Brad sighs. “You gonna be able to handle this? Not the seeing him again part, because let me tell you, that part's nice, but you know. The rest of it.”

Kris isn't the same boy he was when Adam walked away, leaving him heart-broken with responsibilities he hadn't been prepared for. He pushes those thoughts aside. They don’t matter now.

He'd become the Prince his clan needed. They came first. It’s why he’s going to get them their future King back.

Feelings couldn’t enter into this.

“Come home, Brad.”

He doesn't wait for an answer before ending the call. There's a lot of planning to be done. Kris squares his shoulders, pushes away at the tumble of emotions that wants to ignite in his heart, walking over to where Monte had cornered Lee.

Lee's eyes widen when he sees Kris and some of the tension seeps out of his shoulders. It makes Kris smile a little. No one is ever scared of Kris. It should be more annoying than it really is. He likes the advantage it gives him, even when it's not needed.

“Hello, Lee.”

“Prince Allen.”

Kris shakes his head, extends his hand to Lee. “Kris, please.” He smiles wider when Lee takes his offered hand. “I think I can help you.” Lee gives him a disbelieving look but Kris' stare holds steady. He reaches for one of the cards in his pocket, takes the pen Monte hands him as he discreetly looks around then blocks them from view. Lee glances at Monte, brow furrowed before looking back at Kris.

“I don't understand. Won't you get in trouble, your – Kris?”

Kris shrugs as he scribbles a number on the blank side of the card along with an address and password, handing them to Lee when he's done. “I can handle it. Just call this number. Ask for Hudson. She'll be your contact. Tell her what you need.”

He leaves without another word, entering the conference room as he'd left, quietly. Unnoticed.

Sarver is standing at the front talking now about the new alliances they want to make with Cowell and his crew. Kris' hands tighten on the arms of his chair. Michael used to be braver. He doesn't pay attention after he hears a few minutes of the presentation, knows that they have enough resistance in the council still for it to be vetoed.

His thoughts turn back to the conversation with Brad and it's like it’s taken his brain this long to comprehend what's going to happen.

They found Adam.

For the first time in years, Kris is going to have to face the man he's been in love with since he as long as he can remember.

He thinks he might throw up.





Kris jumps when his mother calls him from the back door. He shakes out of his fur, rolls around until he feels the wind on his skin, gathers his shirt to pull it over his head, stumbling into jeans and shoes as he runs toward the sound.

“Kristopher Neil Allen, where are you?”

Oh, she was using his full name. That was never good.

“I'm coming, Mama.” He straightens the shirt, makes sure it doesn't look like he was doing the very thing he was prohibited to do. He stops abruptly at the foot of the deck that leads from their new house into the large backyard. It's nothing like home where he and Daniel could run for hours without having to worry. He misses the stream that cut through that backyard. The sun wasn't nearly as hot there either.

His mother is giving him an intense look, her nose scrunching up at the mess he looks. “What were you doing, Kristopher?”

He smiles innocently. “Playing.”

She doesn't believe him but there's no proof of his disobedience so she sighs, motions for him to come inside. “We've got company.” Kris jogs past her, whines when she pats him hard on the rear. He knows that she could find out the truth if she wanted. He wasn't good at lying to her but he figures she trusts him enough to know he wouldn't put them all in any danger.

“Go and wash up then meet us downstairs. Tell your brother to come down too, please.”

Kris nods, takes two steps at once, turns the wrong way before he remembers that his room isn't where it used to be. This house is a lot smaller than their old one but he automatically takes a left instead of a right. He has the worst sense of direction, he thinks. His dad says he'll outgrow it.

Kris hopes so because he doesn't know how he'd lead anyone anywhere if he didn't know where to go.

Daniel makes fun of him for it.

He freezes, on his way to his room, at the voice that filters from under the bathroom door. Kris has never heard anything like it. The song isn't one he knows but it makes him want to pick up the guitar his Dad uses to entertain guests. He can't play it or anything but he wants to. His fingers twitch at his sides and he starts humming the notes, quietly.

The door opens a few seconds later and he blinks up at the boy – he's a few years older than Kris – standing there. He has light hair, kinda red and kinda blond together, freckles all over his face but it's his eyes, wide and blue that make Kris stop singing because they're really pretty. Then he smiles and Kris feels something in his chest tighten.

The boy steps forward, hand out to Kris.

“Hi, I'm Adam.”

Adam.

He waits expectantly and Kris hears his mother chide him for being rude so he takes the hand, cringing when he remembers that he's sweaty but it's too late and Adam doesn't seem to care.

“Um. Hi. I'm – Kris. Allen.”

The smile gets wider, if that's possible, and Adam says, sincerely. “It's nice to meet you Kris.”





Conway, AR.


Kris smiles when the house appears in his line of sight and breathes deep. It's been too many weeks of meetings, strategy planning, bargaining and truces. He has missed being here. It hasn't felt like home in years if he's honest – his heart is somewhere else – but it's the only one he's ever had. He grins when the car rolls to a stop and Allison flies out of the car. Her hair is some strange purple/red combination but he thinks it looks better than the neon green it had been when he left.

“Kris!”

He braces for the impact of her hug, laughing when she squeezes him harder than he'd expect. Little sister or not, she packs a mean punch when she wants to.

“I missed you, man.” The words are muffled into his shoulder and he tightens his hold on her, kissing her hair before pushing her away gently.

“I wasn't gone that long, Alli.”

She makes a tsking sound, rolling her eyes at him. “Well, sure. Compared to the six months you spent in Europe, yeah. But a month is a long time.”

He can't disagree with that.

“Come on, help me with this stuff. I may or may not have brought you something.”

Her grin lights up everything in their vicinity.





They drop off his luggage in his room and Kris digs through one of the bags to hand her the sari he'd bought for her in New York. It's deep blue silk shimmers with silver detailing and she coos at it, runs her hands over the material before giving him another hug. She heads for his bathroom, “because dude I am going to wear this everywhere, okay?” and he looks down at his watch.

Dinner is in an hour. He needs to talk to the family beforehand.

He brings his attention back to Allison, who is talking to him through the bathroom door.

“– and I told him that you'd want him to talk to you about it before he did anything but then luckily Brad got home and Cass –“

Kris looks at the closed door. “Brad's home?”

Allison opens the door, the saran wrapped securely around her waist and smiles wide. “Yep. He's with Cass right now.”

Kris laughs. “Of course.” He bites his lip before asking, “How long have they been – uh –”

Allison laughs loudly.





Kris had felt bad for interrupting Brad and Cass' reunion but right now he's kind of glad he did. Brad's the only one not looking at him like he'd just grown an extra head and tail.

The room had fallen into silence as soon as Kris is done talking. He wasn't sure what the general consensus would be but from the looks of it, shock is the most common reaction. Not that he blames any of them. It's not every day that Kris calls a meeting to tell them that he's found their king and is bringing him home. He hasn't exactly dealt with that fact yet himself.

“And...you're sure it's Adam?”

Leila asks, eyes rounded with hope and Kris finds that he can smile at her even as his stomach twists at her question. He's as sure as he can be without seeing Adam himself.

“I'm very sure, Leila.”

Her face lights up in a way he hasn't seen in too long, turning to clutch at Eber's hand where he's still sitting, eyes downcast. Kris doesn't know what that means but he can't focus on that now. He looks directly at Neil, waiting for the outburst he's pretty sure is coming.

“What the hell made you think this was a good idea?”

Neil never disappoints Kris.

“I'm not even talking what the council is going to say, which by the way will be a big fat no, but he left us. You. Everyone. He doesn't want this, Kris. What are you going to do? Drag him back and force him to take charge of this clan because you can't do it?”

Brad takes a step forward, raising an eyebrow at Neil. “That's bullshit and you know it.”

Kris is glad he'd only called the immediate family and persons in the know. He catches Katy glaring at Neil and he hopes she doesn't cut back on his security as payback. He can't deal with losing one Lambert right when he's gaining one back. They all need to work together. Allison is bouncing on her feet, smiling huge at him, the only who seems to realize what this means to them. Not the clan but them. It's one of the reason he loves her best. She can see the positive and she's too young to remember what lead up to Adam leaving. He wants to stand next to her and soak in her happiness because his is bogged down by guilt, loss and anger he can't allow himself to feel.

Daniel sits next to their father, watching as Neil and Brad begin to argue, loudly as they tend to, but doesn't say anything. When he meets Kris' gaze, he smiles softly and makes a small “yay” motion with his hand. Kris smiles back, wishing that he felt the same excitement instead of the dread that had formed into a lead stone in the pit of his stomach.

His parents are speaking quietly together, sending his furtive glances every few seconds and Kris feels that itch under his skin. The one that makes him want to turn tail and run. Leave all this behind and just disappear. None of this was supposed to be his. He hadn't been prepared for it but he'd done the best he could. It simply wasn't enough. It's nothing he's ashamed of, really. He'd never been meant to do this, at least not alone. His job is to fix what he can. That's what he's doing.

“He's a selfish dick. That's all that matters.”

“Jesus, Neil. He's your brother. Think you could give him a break?”

Kris clears his throat.

“Fuck that. No. He left. The whole lot of us needed him and he took off. We don't want him.”

“The hell we don't.”

He tries again, a little louder this time.

The sound gets lost in the cacophony of the room and Kris sighs, stands from where he'd been perched on the table, raising a hand over his head as he yells. “Hey! Can everyone just shut up for two seconds?”

That's enough to get their attention because he never yells especially not at them.

“Thank you,” he says into the resounding silence, turning to Neil and Brad, his eyes falling on his friend. “Brad, I appreciate what you're doing but it's fine. Okay?” Brad narrows his eyes but takes a step back and Kris shifts his attention to Neil. “I've never claimed to be a great leader, Neil. You know that better than anyone. I've done what I could. But I was never meant to be your king. That's Adam.”

“He doesn't want it.”

Kris shrugs, face blanking. “He did once. Maybe not at the time he left but...we don't know how he feels now.” He takes a deep breath. “That's why I'm going to talk with him. See where he stands. Change his mind.”

Eber speaks for the first time. “How exactly are you planning on doing that, son?”

He meets his eyes, tries for a reassuring smile. “I have a plan.”

They start asking questions but he waves them off, shaking his head. “I've never led you guys down the wrong path. At least not consciously. Just please. Trust me.”

He meets Eber's eyes and sighs when he gets a nod.

“Okay.”





He's packing his bag when there's a knock on the door. Kris freezes, tension seeping into his shoulders when he senses that it's his father on the other side. He was hoping to forgo this whole conversation but he should have known better. There was no way that was going to happen.

“Come in.”

The door opens quietly as Neil Allen, King of Arkansas, enters quietly, closing the door firmly behind him before he turns to look straight at Kris.

“You’re really willing to give up your throne, Kris.”

Kris smiles because his father's straightforwardness is something he's always admired about him. He's tried to imitate as often as he can. Royalty or not, there were still moments you weren't allowed to speak your mind the way you'd want.

He brings his mind back to the issue at hand and answers his father's question. “It's not my throne, Dad. It's yours.”

Neil shakes his head in frustration. “You're the next one in line.”

He's well aware of where he falls but the truth was that he'd never been meant to rule. His father had told him that himself when he'd been hold enough to understand. Sometimes a clan didn't pick their king. Sometimes a king picked his clan.

“Dad, it was always supposed to be Adam.”

Neil shakes his head. “I was wrong about that. You – you've done so much for us. Worked harder than anyone else to keep us safe and in power. I can't overlook that.”

Kris rolls his eyes. “I made a couple of business decisions that turned out well. Great. But I can and will still do that as the Prince Consort. It'll be part of my job.”

“That's not all you've --”

“We've lost two territories, Dad. Just in the last year. We need someone the clan will follow.”

“They'll follow you.”

“Remember how you once told me about a clan picking their king?”

Neil nods. “Yes and that's what we've done. We chose you.”

Kris laughs a little. “That's revisionist history, Dad.” He folds another shirt and stuffs it into the duffel before turning to look at his father. “This clan already had a king that chose them. He just got a little lost.”

His father sits on the edge of Kris' bed, shoulders slumped slightly and it hits him, not for the first time, how tired he looks. The burden of everything that he needs to take care of shows in his face now, worn lines etched in his forehead. He does a great job of keeping all that to himself, his public persona that of a boisterous leader. Few get to see this side: the king ready to step down.

“I wish I hadn't pushed him into this. Maybe he would’ve figured it out on his own.”

Kris sits next to his father, slinging an arm over his shoulder. “You saved his life when Cowell would have ended it. You gave him purpose, Dad, when he thought it was over.”

Neil stares out into the distance, his mind somewhere in the past. “Sometimes I feel like I cursed him as much as he did.

Kris says nothing, holds on to his father tighter, because the truth is he's had those same thoughts for years.





It was the wailing that woke him up from the first dreamless sleep he'd had in a long time, and Kris jumps out of bed, running for the hallway before he can even register what it might mean. His first thought is that Uncle Ted found them but he can tell by the way that his brother is standing, wide-eyed, bottom lip trembling that it might be something far worse.

That scares him more than the screaming.

He reaches for Daniel, pulling him away from the door. He's only ten and has seen far too much already. “Danny, go upstairs.”

“But, Kris--”

“Daniel.”

His brother sighs but moves forward, pausing on the landing to look back at Kris. “It's Adam. Something bad happened with Adam.”

Kris' heart stops for a beat and he wants Daniel to be lying. It can't be Adam. Before he can say anything else Daniel is already disappearing up the stairs and the sound of crying makes him turn back to the door. He pushes it open, his eyes falling on the crowd at the center of the room, and Kris' heart stops. Adam is lying on the floor, blood seeping down his shirt, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and the noises, the wounded sounds Kris had been hearing were his.

“Adam!” He's on his knees at his friend's side, taking the pale hand that lies limply on the carpet. “Oh my god. What happened?” He looks up at his father whose face is contorted into a strange mix of anger and sadness. “Dad, what – what – I don't understand.”

“He was attacked by Cowell and Abdul.”

Kris' mind can't wrap itself around that. “But why? Adam isn't part of any of – I don't --”

He can sense someone moving behind his father, sees Neil's face contorted in pain and it's too much. This isn't supposed to be happening. Adam and Leila and Eber and Neil were their friends, family almost. They were special, too. Kris wasn't sure but his mother had once told him that their power was to empower others, to guide them, inspire when they needed to.

Now...

Kris looks down at Adam, who shivers in his mother's arms, sweating and writhing. It's never going to be the same for them. Not after this. He grabs hold of Adam's hands, soothes as best he can manage and when Adam turns to look up at him, he wants to kill.

There's a sharp, angry ache in his chest. It feels red, like a fire burning, making it difficult to breathe. His hands itch and all he wants to do is tear someone a part.

Kris feels hate.

An emotion he doesn't know, has never dealt with before.

Adam wails once more and Kris thinks he'll never forget the sound.

Not for the rest of his life.





They cook a huge going away feast for Kris and his mother seems to have invited all their families to eat with him. He would complain but he gets a chance to speak to them and it gives him the extra incentive he needs to do this. They talk to him about their worries, their hopes now that Kris is going to find them their king and others worried about him, thanked him for all the work he's done. It makes Kris feels less like a fraud.

Megan and the rest of the staff get their back yard ready while Kris listens to his mother tell him to care of himself for the hundredth time. He hugs both her and Leila before needing to escape into the woods. It's only been a few hours and there are hordes of people milling around. It's scary to see – literally – all the lives that depend on him getting this done.

He nods at Anoop, points toward one of the paths that led through the woods and ignores the alarmed shake of his head, raising an eyebrow in a challenge. Anoop will probably tell Katy but by that point Kris will have a lead. There's nobody in this part of their property and he can barely make out the path that leads to Allison's house. He remembers being afraid of the Iraheta's once. Witches and wizards are incredibly powerful and his grandmother had always warned Kris and his brother about them. But his parents had managed to become friends with just about everyone, never minding what or who they were.

He can't imagine not having them in his life. Any of the people that helped him after...

Kris stares up at the moon, half-full but so bright, and he closes his eyes for a moment before trying to feel his way through the trees, letting the moonbeams guide his way until he's at the edge of the river that crosses through his parent's backyard. There's peace and quiet, something he doesn't get often. He breathes in the night air, can smell the people hundreds of yards behind him, the smoke of the wood for the bonfire, hears the notes of the music that they're playing and feels its hold on him.

He misses playing music so much.

There's never any time for it, but for just this one minute he can remember. Kris plucks at invisible guitar strings, moves his fingers over the riffs, and hums quietly under his breath.

“There's nothing that says you can't still play, you know that, right?”

Kris jumps, turns around to glare at Brad. He hates when he sneaks up on him. “I hate when you do that.”

Brad grins. “I know. It's why I do it.”

“Don't you have more productive ways to use your talent besides trying to scare me?” Kris freezes when he fills the tendrils of Brad in his mind, like fingers stroking over his consciousness.

You love it, Kristopher.

“Get out of my head, Brad, or I swear I will kick that pretty ass of yours. And not in a way you'll enjoy.” He almost smiles at the exaggerated frown Brad gives him but he feels him retreat and then it's just Kris in his own head. He's never gotten used to that. Sometimes it's a necessary evil to give Brad the access but Kris only allows it in extreme circumstances.

“What are you doing here, anyway? There's a party going on, Bradley. I expected to find you five sheets to the wind and attempting to get Cass in your bed tonight.”

Brad shrugs, leans against the nearest tree and gives him that familiar mocking look that Kris translates as 'you're so cute'. It's not one that Kris is fond of.

“Oh, but it's still early, baby.” He wiggles his eyebrows and that makes Kris laugh out loud. Brad grins in response and moves to stand next to him, looking over the water with the same fondness Kris knows is in his own gaze.

“You going for a run?”

He glares at Brad for a second then decides he's going to believe that Brad has taken a good guess and nods. “For a little bit, yeah.”

Brad doesn't look him in the eyes as he steps closer to the water, dips a foot in as he crosses his arms, his sigh deep. “I know you have this whole plan and I'm down with that. You know that. But I – Kris, you need to maybe tell Adam how you feel.”

Kris freezes, staring down at his feet as he shakes his head. “We've had this conversation how many times now? He doesn't want to know.” Brad opens his mouth to respond but Kris cuts him off with a hand gesture. “Don't try to tell me otherwise.”

“He was young and stupid and really fucking scared. I know you understand that.”

“Of course I do,” he scowls at Brad, presses his fingers against his wrist and rubs hard at the inked skin there, “I don't blame him for running away.” He turns when Brad snorts in disbelief and raises an eyebrow. “Have I ever lied to you, Bradley?”

“Not on purpose, no. But it's not lying if you've convinced yourself it's the truth.”

Kris closes his eyes and twists away from Brad, not wanting him to sense anything Kris doesn't want to think about. “I hate when you do this.”

“I'm trying to help.”

He knows that much He appreciates it even when it's making his chest hurt and stomach coil tightly. The truth isn't that black and white. He doesn't blame Adam at all for running as fast as he could. Part of Kris wants to do the same, has wanted to for as long as he's been in charge because the responsibility of taking care of so many people isn't easily bearable. The idea of losing anybody is enough to keep Kris up all of hours of the night.

Adam's loss...that was enough to make anyone run.

So he didn't blame him...but he didn't think he could trust Adam fully ever again. And that was a problem because to survive this he needed to.

He glances over at Brad who is studying Kris' face intently and when he meets his friend's gaze, Brad smiles. “I've never had to look further than your face to know what you feel.”

Kris rolls his eyes at him. “That doesn't make me feel much better.”

Brad shrugs. “You've got a mean poker face when you want to, Kris. Just not with us.”

That’s more truth than he wants to admit.

“What are you going to say to him?”

Kris starts removing his shoes slowly, avoiding looking directly at Brad. “Whatever I need to get him to come back and help us.”

“That could end up being any number of unsavory, or really fucking delicious, things, don't you think?”

He doesn't respond, working the button of his jeans open, wiggling until he can step out of them. He pulls his shirt over his head and drops it on top of the rest of his clothes. He needs to clear his head before he leaves and there's only one way he knows how. Kris turns his gaze to Brad and smiles when he finds that he's already getting comfortable at the foot of the nearest tree.

“Fine. I'll stop pushing. You're not gonna listen anyway.” He waves a hand at Kris, leans his head against the trunk at his back and closes his eyes. “Go. Take your stupid run. Wake me up when you're done. I want to say goodbye properly.”

Kris doesn't say a word. He concentrates, gathers the energy that pools in his stomach, feels the rush of it over his limbs and he breathes as the world changes, his body retreating, bones shifting. He can smell the night air, rich with secrets and desires. He takes a step into the woods, his paws digging into the moist dirt and then he pushes on his hind legs, running through the trees until all he can think about is the feels of the wind on his fur, the beating of his heart, the color of the moon.





Kris's eyes fly open at the frustrated growl Adam gives next to him and turns to glance at him. Mr. Jackson is shaking his head, reaching out to grab at Adam's hands, pulling them away from his face.

“Stop that, Adam.”

He sounds more amused than truly exasperated so Kris relaxes a little. He knows that Adam gets worse if he feels like he's disappointing Mr. Jackson or Kris' dad or pretty much anyone.

“I'm never going to learn how to do this!”

Kris tries not to roll his eyes because Adam can be a drama queen when he wants, and he's only been trying to learn transformation for two weeks. It took Kris years of practice to know how to control his body enough to change at will.

“Adam, please. Take it easy, alright? It's not an easy skill to master.”

Adam waves a hand at Kris and pouts, making him look five years old. Kris hides his smile and raises an eyebrow. “Kristopher does it without even thinking.”

Mr. Jackson shares a look with Kris, sighing, as he gets down on his hunches, makes Adam look at him. “Yes, he can. Kris was born wolf, Adam. Even then he still had to learn how to control it and not let it control him. You think he came out of the womb knowing when it was safe to turn or how to manage it without it being too painful?”

Kris shakes his head, remembers his sixth birthday and how he'd accidentally broken an arm to trying to shift back into human form so he wouldn't be caught by the Hunters.

Adam makes a face and stands slowly. “I know.”

“Okay. Then, you have to learn a little patience which I realize isn't your strongest trait but you're going to have to work on that.”

Kris laughs when Adam scowls then glances away fast when Adam's face changes and he grins at him, eyes crinkling. It makes Kris' chest feel heavy, cold lump of something settling in his stomach. It's been happening more and more often. He doesn't get what it means. He asked Lil about it but she'd said he'd understand soon enough and that it was normal. Whatever that meant.

Mr. Jackson glances down at his watch the up at them. “Why don't you two take your lunch break and we can try it again before you have to head over to Mr. Fuller's class.”

Adam raised both arms over his head with a loud “Yes” making Mr. Jackson laughs, shaking his head as he walks toward the back entrance of the school. After he was out of sight, Adam grabs Kris hand and drags him away to the small clump of trees partially hidden from view. Kris would protest but Adam's hand in his makes him tongue-tied so he just follows.

Which isn’t any different than how they usually behave so he goes along, plopping down next to Adam on the grass, watching as he moves to get comfortable, his shoulder leaning on Kris. There was another pulse of – Kris doesn't even know what – down his spine. Adam freezes for only a second before continuing his fidgeting but Kris catches the look that crosses his face: confusion and something he can't really place.

“Adam.” He wants to know if it's the same feeling that Kris is having, wants to talk to his best friend about all this.

“We should eat.”

Adam pulls open his bag, pulls out the lunch that Cookie had given him that morning as they left the house. Kris holds back a sigh and does the same. It's his favorite: roast beef and Swiss.

“I think I figured out how I can understand shifting.”

Kris pauses, sandwich halfway to his mouth, blinks and then says, “Okay. But, seriously, Adam it's okay if it takes some time.”

“I learned how to control it easily. This – shouldn't be any more difficult.”

That was probably logical thinking. Kris doesn't know what it feels like for Adam. Not shifting had always been harder for him. If they'd allowed it, Kris thinks he would have spent his entire childhood running through woods in his wolf form.

Adam was the opposite. His control is so tight on it that he can't actually gather the energy to change when he wants to. Megan's theory is that Adam is afraid. He wasn't born into this, he was turned and that had been traumatic. Kris tends to agree with that. Adam is blocking himself.

The fear of what he becomes takes over. It's not something Kris can fully understand but he wants to help any way he can.

“What's your idea?” He asks to keep Adam from getting too morose. It makes their days feel longer when Adam isn't enjoying himself. He sets his lunch aside when Adam does and turns to look at him.

“Lil told me that you can – open your mind up to someone if they allow it. That there's some kind of connection between the clans.”

Kris nods slowly. When he and Daniel were kids, they'd manage to hold entire conversation in their heads. They rarely used it unless they were hunting but he wasn't sure exactly what Adam was trying to ask.

Adam scooted in closer and Kris jerked slightly away. He smelled so good that Kris sometimes wanted to crawl into Adam's lap, bury his nose in his neck and stay there. But that wasn't – he didn't think Adam would appreciate that at all. He's learning to keep his distance.

Adam is giving him a strange look.

“You okay?”

Kris nods but when he speaks his voice sounds rough to his own ears. “Yeah, I'm good. Just – tell me what you need.”

Adam grabs his hands, interlaces their fingers and Kris can't breathe, his heart is beating so fast he might pass out from it. “Can you think about shifting?”

It doesn't work that way for him.

“Adam, I don't know what I think...”

He gets a hand flap in his direction and shuts up. Adam takes his other hand, and this is getting ridiculous, then leans in until he's all Kris can sense.

“Just think about it, go through the steps that you do but close your eyes, picture it in your mind as you do.”

Kris does as Adam asks, closing his eyes as he tightens his hold on Adam's hands. He breathes deep, reaches for the energy like he always does, finds it throbbing, bright at his center and he pushes the images that are suddenly in his head out toward Adam. He moves closer, feels Adam there and touches his mind.

The images assault him at a great speed, flashing across his consciousness like a reel of scenes in Adam's life. Leila's face, loving and amused, as she dresses Adam up in his costume: the mermaid one. Neil, two years old, laughing when Adam hugs him. Neil, showing Adam how to bait a line despite Adam’s clear disgust for it. The first time Adam met Kris in the hallway. The terror and aching wound of his attack, turning for the first time and his resistance against that change. He hadn't wanted to grow fur, to have his entire body rearranged, to be an animal. It went by too fast but Kris saw himself in Adam's mind and then he caught it, this quick glimpse of limbs and mouths, heat and want and...

Kris drops Adam's hands, scrambles away, knees shaking and he has to lean on the tree to keep from falling. Adam is behind him, panicked and apologizing but Kris can't soothe him. That'll have to wait until he stops freaking out. Because –

That had been him and Adam together. And it hadn't come from Adam. It was a flash of something that would be. It happens to Kris sometimes. He sees images that he knows aren’t just dreams or fantasy...they’re snatches of what’s to come. It doesn’t happen often but when it does he’s usually asleep.

But –

Lil's voice played in his mind.

“You'll know soon, Kris. Trust in that.”

He does. He gets it.

Adam isn't just his best friend or the man who'd become his king.

He is so much more.

Adam is his mate.





San Francisco, CA.


Music plays loud, beats that float through the crowd, finding space between the bodies that litter at the bar, on the dance floor or, like him, in the booths hidden back in shadows. This place isn’t what he had expected at all. When Brad had told him where to go, he'd thought there might be more...glitter, at least.

Kris wonders why it surprises him that it wasn't what he'd imagined.

He’s never been predictable, why would he start now?

Kris lets his wandering gaze fall on the young man at the bar, blinks when he's met with wide eyes and a large smile. The incisors glisten like pin points, make him chuckle to himself. He can't be more than nineteen. Or well, wasn't more than nineteen at the time. The boy turns to speak to the bartender briefly, stares back and Kris almost panics when he glides – he wonders how the hell they manage to do that – across the room, sits at Kris' side.

“Hi.”

For an opening line, it leaves something to be desired but Kris doesn't say anything, nods his head once. “Hi.”

“Can I sit here?”

Kris starts to say no but then one of the waitresses comes over with another beer and the boy smiles at him. “I figured you could use a refill.”

His mother had always taught him to be polite – didn't matter who it was offering, he wasn't to be rude.

Unless absolutely necessary.

“Thank you.” He pushes it to the side, takes another sip from his lukewarm one and meets curious gray eyes.

“My name's Darren.” Darren's voice is low, steady in a way that's meant to lure you in, make you feel safe and warm. It's working. Kris' body awakens a little at it but his mind isn't engaged in any way. He feels like he should thank Randy for the hours of training he'd made them all endure when they were kids.

Darren is ridiculously pretty, Kris thinks and smiles when a hand is stretched out toward him. The gaze that locks onto his is lulling, calming and Kris raises an eyebrow as he takes the cold palm into his own warm one, growls out his quiet response.

“Not gonna happen.”

The vamp gives him a large grin, drags one finger across Kris' palm when he extracts his hand from Kris'. “I thought you looked like trouble.”

Kris laughs a little, shakes his head. “You got the wrong guy, then. I'm just here for the show.” He motions toward the stage being set up. “Sorry.”

Darren doesn't believe him. “I think there's more to it but we don't know each other well enough for me to ask yet.”

“Don't think that'll be happening, Darren.” Kris salutes him with the beer in his hand. He won't be drinking the one Darren bought which is a shame. It's his favorite kind.

“Can't blame a guy for trying.” Darren gives him the once over. “You're adorable. For a canine.”

Kris rolls his eyes. “Says the undead guy.”

Darren laughs, lick his lips and leans forward to whisper close to Kris' ear. “If you change your mind, I'll be right over here.” He winks as he gets up, moves toward the end of the bar. It's been some time since anyone picked him up and he's more amused than he should be. He brings his attention back to the front of the club. It's smaller than it looked from outside with a crowd that he should expected. The room is hot with the bodies around him. The lightening is bad, almost too dark. That's good for him –less chance of being seen.

There's rumbling from the stage, a large man with a striped rainbow Mohawk stands in front of the mic, taps on it to get the audience's attention. Kris smiles at the nervous gulp he gives before speaking.

“Hey everyone. What's up?”

That makes Kris laugh, the chorus of mumbled responses getting lost in the din of the bar.

“So, well. Okay. This is fucking stupid.”

There's laughter now and Kris feels for the guy. He hates that kind of focus on him.

“You're all here to see one guy, right?”

Applause and hoots erupt around him and the guy grins wide, claps his hands over his head. “Right. So here he is.” He points to the side stage and Kris straightens in his seat, hands clutching on the edge of the table. There are rattlers in his stomach. His heart is beating too fast. Kris thinks he might be having a heart attack.

Five years hadn't stopped what he felt.

It’s worse now.

The room is almost dark, the murmurs quieting to an occasional whisper and then there's the sound of a flick, one spotlight on the stage.

Kris can't breathe when Adam steps out of the darkness and into the bright white of light. His eyes roam the room, stopping where Kris is, making him recoil back into the shadows.

Adam can't know he's there.

Not yet.

Adam grins.

“We're The Citizen Vein.”

The band starts playing and it's like it always was with Adam. His voice fills up all those empty spaces, makes it hard to think, throws every emotion at the crowd until it's too much to bear.

Kris remembers the very first time he'd heard it. Remembers the last time. He wonders as he watches the guitarist what Monte would think of this. Adam turns to the short blonde, pulling his hair back twisting his face up and smashes their mouths together. Kris looks away, catches Darren's eyes when he does, sees the pity there.

It's not necessary. Kris is a big boy. He can handle this even when it doesn't seem like he can. He makes his gaze fall back on the stage, breathes easier when Adam moves to the front the stage, belting out the last notes of the song.

Adam's voice takes him back to the beginning...how they got here...what led Kris to where he was.

It's the past neither of them can escape.

No matter how hard they try.





Adam leans back in the soft leather of the arm chair, pats Alisan's arm as she walks by with some drinks, motions for her to bring him one.

She nods with a wave, long sleeves of her dress shimmering in the light coming from the stage. “Keep your leather on, Princess.”

He grins at her, makes a face when she sticks her tongue out at him. His gaze studies the pickings in the room. Adam is always high and horny after a show. It's when he likes to sit back with a drink and find somewhere to lose himself. His skin crawls with the need to fuck, to take and have. It's been growing inside and he makes that mental note to get the next few days off.

He can feel the urge moving in him, knows that if he doesn't give in, he won't be able to keep control when the time comes.

Normally, it's not this much of a problem. He can ignore it when he's on stage, take all the adulation, cheering and feed the need. He walks down wanting a release but – this is different. Adam is aware of someone else completely. He doesn't who it is or how he knows them.

Adam searches the room for anyone he recognizes.

There are several figures at the bar with their backs to him and he eyes them carefully. Two of them he's slept with recently. Two are with the band that played before his performance. One he knows as Darren – the vamp that mostly keeps to himself and out of trouble.

Three of them he can't see from this distance.

He thinks maybe Alisan can help with that.

She appears before him with an interested look and he jumps. “I hate when you do that.” Elves as friends (and lovers) are a pain in the ass.

“Only when I do it to you. In all other cases you think it's hilarious.”

Adam sighs. “Are you going to shut up and let me tell you –”

“Sorry to interrupt.”

Adam looks up, grins at his favorite bartender. “Sasha!” He glances behind her and the crowd forming at the bar. “What's going on?”

She points to the end of the bar, gives him a lecherous grin. “That little, delicious, pretty boy on the end sent this over to you.” She places his favorite drink on the table – the deep red liquid leaving a shadow at the bottom of the glass.

The pretty boy turns and Adam gives him an approving look. He's wearing a black shirt made of some shimmering material he thinks Cassidy would appreciate and be able to name. The thought gives him a pang, makes him focus back on his suitor. There are two other people on his side of the bar. A woman wearing way too much make-up and a halter that has seen better days. The only other person is tiny, with hair that sticks up in the back and jeans that fit very snugly on him. Unfortunately, he's wearing a hideous plaid shirt. When he figured out what was going on with Pretty Boy, he'd have to give the kid some pointers because. Really.

He looks up at Alisan, says. “Never mind,” and gets up from the table with a determined bounce to his step.

“Wait, Adam. I don't –”

He shakes his head. “That's probably what I was sensing.” He throws her a smile over his shoulder, ignores the way her hands are flailing at him. She's too cautious. Not that he blames her or isn't the same way. Now, he knows where it was coming from and he can figure out what it means. The closer he gets, the more he feels that sensation under his skin grow. He feels hot, disoriented and his heart is beating fast.

This isn't right.

The only time he'd ever felt anything like this was...

But that was too many years of denial ago.

“Thank you for the drink.”

He leans against the bar, watches green eyes widen at seeing him, nervous smile. Adam can sense confusion, a little fear and he doesn't know what to think. “How did you know that was my drink?”

There's movement behind him, heat radiating down his back and it makes him shiver involuntarily.

Pretty Boy gives him a befuddled look, laughs a little hollowly. “I'm – I didn't.”

Adam's relaxed stance disappears, paranoia taking its place. “They said the pretty boy at the bar –”

“I think she meant me.”

His breath catches in his throat at the voice. Adam turns around, finds his gaze on warm brown eyes and a self-deprecating smile that had stayed with him since the first time he'd seen it.

He blinks a few times because this isn’t real.

This is a dream.

One of the long drawn out ones that he let himself believe were good and beautiful – the one’s that inevitably turned into nightmares of blood and loss where he'd wake up curled into a ball in the middle of his bed.

The smile falters, brown gaze dimming and Adam wants it to come back, needs it to.

This is what he'd been feeling.

“Kris.”

That gets him a wide, toothy grin and a laugh that runs straight down his spine, pools into desire there. His already hard cock twitches and Adam holds back a groan, flashes to the one brief taste he'd had of Kris. It still lingers in his memory.

He looks different than the twenty year old that had begged him to stay.

“Adam.”

Kris still says his name like no one else does.


|Part Two|