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butterflyTitle: Rewriting History
Summary: AU. Having missed his chance at trying out for S8, Kris had watched in awe as Adam Lambert destroyed the competition that year. Now, he's gotten into the finals of S9 and Adam is a guest singer on the show.
Pairings: Kris/Adam
Rating: R; Adult; Sexual Content
Notes: The quote Kris references originally comes from Oscar Wilde.
Rewriting History
“Hey, kid, I've been watching you,” Adam says, scribbling something on the back of his card before holding it out. Kris takes it almost numbly, part of him not quite able to believe that Adam Lambert, last season's superstar American Idol, is actually talking to him. “You were killer on '80s night. Really great job.”
“Thanks.” Kris looks at the card – Adam's business contacts at RCA – and then flips it over, his stomach twisting when he sees the hand-written number marked 'personal'. He looks back up at Adam, wishing that he had his brother's ability to act cool when he was shaking in his shoes. “I... I voted for you all last season.”
“Yeah?” And Adam sounds so pleasantly surprised and Kris just can't understand that. No one else in that top 12 had come close to him, not even Allison, Kris's second favorite. Kris hadn't just voted for Adam, he'd pretty much conscripted everyone he and his family knew into voting. “What was your favorite performance?”
“Whole Lotta Love,” Kris says, before he has a chance to think about it. Adam's eyes widen and his smile tightens and Kris really should say something about being married because he thinks that Adam just got the wrong impression. Adam takes a step closer, crowding into Kris's personal space and Kris takes in a sharp breath, smelling Adam's cologne – he's read what it is in some magazine, but he can't remember the name right now.
“What did you like about it?” Adam's hand reaches out and brushes down the front of Kris's shirt and Kris involuntarily looks down – Adam's fingernails are painted dark red and they look strange against Kris's blue plaid. Adam plays with the last button on Kris's shirt and – shit, Kris is hard and Adam can't possibly be missing it. Kris looks up and around wildly, but no one else is around – Adam, being a former contestant, had seemed to know exactly where to take Kris to talk to him privately. “Hmm?”
Kris meets Adam's gaze, and he swallows at the look Adam is giving him. He's not... naïve and he knows that Adam... Adam likes short guys, likes Southern boys, seems to like guys that have the same sort of look that Kris has. He still remembers what Adam had said in Rolling Stone, that none of the Top 36 had been his type at all, and he remembers the pictures of Drake and Cheeks and, more recently, Bryan.
Adam slips that bottom button out of its hole and his hand is touching Kris's stomach now and Kris opens his mouth to say something, but all that escapes him is a tiny whimper and then he needs to breathe. Kris has never, ever thought about cheating on his wife, but this is Adam Lambert and he can't seem to get enough air to answer Adam's question, let alone say anything as hard as 'no'. He bites down on his lip to keep another sound from escaping.
“Look at you, all buttoned-up and innocent,” Adam says, his hand rucking Kris's shirt up. “Oh, baby, I gotta admit, I was hoping you had a little bit of gay in you. I noticed you from the very beginning, before any of the reviewers started mentioning you.”
Kris manages a laugh, though the sound is shaky, and he puts his hand on Adam's arm. He's going to push Adam away, he really is, but Adam's other hand has found its way to Kris's hip, where he's slipped it inside Kris's jeans, rubbing tiny circles into his skin. Kris's hand tightens in reaction and he can't not smile at the delight that fills Adam's eyes. He still remembers watching on the night that Adam had won, how loud he'd cheered, not caring that he looked like a crazy person.
Adam is still dressed up in the clothes that he'd performed in, leather with feathers and spikes, all black with accents of red, and the fabric of his shirt is slippery when Kris reaches out and presses his hand against it. “Adam,” he says, and he means to say that he can't do this, but Adam leans over and kisses him, working his way into Kris's mouth with determination. Kris gasps into Adam's mouth and his hips jerk without his permission. He can feel Adam's quick smile against his lips and Adam's hand moves down to cup Kris's ass through his briefs.
Adam's shifting him, breaking the kiss, and Kris doesn't quite understand why for a second, not until he realizes that his dick is up against Adam's thigh and Adam's moved his hand from under Kris's shirt to the small of Kris's back. He bucks against Adam, shivering at the pressure of Adam's heat against him, even through all their clothing. Adam urges him forward again and again and Kris buries his moan in Adam's shoulder.
Even going to see Adam in concert hadn't been this overwhelming and, up 'til now, that had been pretty much the defining moment of Kris's life, the moment when he'd decided that he would try out this year, even though he'd had to miss his one-year anniversary to make the audition. But this... the way Adam completely surrounds him, the way his skin tingles everywhere that Adam touches him, the way his mind blanks out at Adam's kisses – this is rewriting his entire world.
The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold; the curves of your lips rewrite history, Kris thinks helplessly. When he'd read that Velvet Goldmine was Adam's favorite movie, he'd watched it for the first time and he thought he'd understood it, but he hadn't.
Now, though, now he gets it. The world is changed because of dyed-black hair and smoky-blue eyes and the freckles that he can see peeking out from under Adam's foundation. He'd been straight. He'd been Katy's Kris. He'd been a recent business graduate, just trying to make it in today's economy and giving his old dream one last try.
Now...
He isn't sure who he is now. He shudders against Adam, coming with a needy sound that flushes his cheeks with heat. When he meets Adam's eyes again, he's so relieved that Adam looks a little uncertain. He pushes up for a kiss and lands sloppily near the corner of Adam's mouth, his balance seriously shot. Adam is still hard, but when Kris reaches for him, Adam grabs his hand and pulls it away.
“There's time for that,” Adam whispers. His eyes are soft and warm and he touches Kris's cheek like he's surprised by something. “You'd better catch up with the rest before they notice you're missing. Call me sometime. We'll do a song together, maybe something else if you're still interested.”
“Yeah.” Kris nods, licking his lips and shivering when the taste of Adam's mouth is still there. Adam's brushing him down, straightening out his clothes. “I'd like that.”
“See you around, Kris Allen,” Adam says, with a wink. “I'll be voting for you. Oh, and you should get some tighter clothes. Let the audience get a look at all your assets, not just that pretty face.”
And then Adam walks away and Kris picks up Adam's card from where he'd dropped it on the floor, though he can't remember when that happened. He tucks it into the pocket of his jeans with trembling fingers.
He hears someone calling his name and he shakes himself out of his daze. It probably doesn't mean anything to Adam, whatever he said about noticing Kris. Not when the guy must get dozens of offers a day. Still... he touches the bit of paper in his pocket.
It won't hurt to wear tighter jeans.
~end~
Summary: AU. Having missed his chance at trying out for S8, Kris had watched in awe as Adam Lambert destroyed the competition that year. Now, he's gotten into the finals of S9 and Adam is a guest singer on the show.
Pairings: Kris/Adam
Rating: R; Adult; Sexual Content
Notes: The quote Kris references originally comes from Oscar Wilde.
“Hey, kid, I've been watching you,” Adam says, scribbling something on the back of his card before holding it out. Kris takes it almost numbly, part of him not quite able to believe that Adam Lambert, last season's superstar American Idol, is actually talking to him. “You were killer on '80s night. Really great job.”
“Thanks.” Kris looks at the card – Adam's business contacts at RCA – and then flips it over, his stomach twisting when he sees the hand-written number marked 'personal'. He looks back up at Adam, wishing that he had his brother's ability to act cool when he was shaking in his shoes. “I... I voted for you all last season.”
“Yeah?” And Adam sounds so pleasantly surprised and Kris just can't understand that. No one else in that top 12 had come close to him, not even Allison, Kris's second favorite. Kris hadn't just voted for Adam, he'd pretty much conscripted everyone he and his family knew into voting. “What was your favorite performance?”
“Whole Lotta Love,” Kris says, before he has a chance to think about it. Adam's eyes widen and his smile tightens and Kris really should say something about being married because he thinks that Adam just got the wrong impression. Adam takes a step closer, crowding into Kris's personal space and Kris takes in a sharp breath, smelling Adam's cologne – he's read what it is in some magazine, but he can't remember the name right now.
“What did you like about it?” Adam's hand reaches out and brushes down the front of Kris's shirt and Kris involuntarily looks down – Adam's fingernails are painted dark red and they look strange against Kris's blue plaid. Adam plays with the last button on Kris's shirt and – shit, Kris is hard and Adam can't possibly be missing it. Kris looks up and around wildly, but no one else is around – Adam, being a former contestant, had seemed to know exactly where to take Kris to talk to him privately. “Hmm?”
Kris meets Adam's gaze, and he swallows at the look Adam is giving him. He's not... naïve and he knows that Adam... Adam likes short guys, likes Southern boys, seems to like guys that have the same sort of look that Kris has. He still remembers what Adam had said in Rolling Stone, that none of the Top 36 had been his type at all, and he remembers the pictures of Drake and Cheeks and, more recently, Bryan.
Adam slips that bottom button out of its hole and his hand is touching Kris's stomach now and Kris opens his mouth to say something, but all that escapes him is a tiny whimper and then he needs to breathe. Kris has never, ever thought about cheating on his wife, but this is Adam Lambert and he can't seem to get enough air to answer Adam's question, let alone say anything as hard as 'no'. He bites down on his lip to keep another sound from escaping.
“Look at you, all buttoned-up and innocent,” Adam says, his hand rucking Kris's shirt up. “Oh, baby, I gotta admit, I was hoping you had a little bit of gay in you. I noticed you from the very beginning, before any of the reviewers started mentioning you.”
Kris manages a laugh, though the sound is shaky, and he puts his hand on Adam's arm. He's going to push Adam away, he really is, but Adam's other hand has found its way to Kris's hip, where he's slipped it inside Kris's jeans, rubbing tiny circles into his skin. Kris's hand tightens in reaction and he can't not smile at the delight that fills Adam's eyes. He still remembers watching on the night that Adam had won, how loud he'd cheered, not caring that he looked like a crazy person.
Adam is still dressed up in the clothes that he'd performed in, leather with feathers and spikes, all black with accents of red, and the fabric of his shirt is slippery when Kris reaches out and presses his hand against it. “Adam,” he says, and he means to say that he can't do this, but Adam leans over and kisses him, working his way into Kris's mouth with determination. Kris gasps into Adam's mouth and his hips jerk without his permission. He can feel Adam's quick smile against his lips and Adam's hand moves down to cup Kris's ass through his briefs.
Adam's shifting him, breaking the kiss, and Kris doesn't quite understand why for a second, not until he realizes that his dick is up against Adam's thigh and Adam's moved his hand from under Kris's shirt to the small of Kris's back. He bucks against Adam, shivering at the pressure of Adam's heat against him, even through all their clothing. Adam urges him forward again and again and Kris buries his moan in Adam's shoulder.
Even going to see Adam in concert hadn't been this overwhelming and, up 'til now, that had been pretty much the defining moment of Kris's life, the moment when he'd decided that he would try out this year, even though he'd had to miss his one-year anniversary to make the audition. But this... the way Adam completely surrounds him, the way his skin tingles everywhere that Adam touches him, the way his mind blanks out at Adam's kisses – this is rewriting his entire world.
The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold; the curves of your lips rewrite history, Kris thinks helplessly. When he'd read that Velvet Goldmine was Adam's favorite movie, he'd watched it for the first time and he thought he'd understood it, but he hadn't.
Now, though, now he gets it. The world is changed because of dyed-black hair and smoky-blue eyes and the freckles that he can see peeking out from under Adam's foundation. He'd been straight. He'd been Katy's Kris. He'd been a recent business graduate, just trying to make it in today's economy and giving his old dream one last try.
Now...
He isn't sure who he is now. He shudders against Adam, coming with a needy sound that flushes his cheeks with heat. When he meets Adam's eyes again, he's so relieved that Adam looks a little uncertain. He pushes up for a kiss and lands sloppily near the corner of Adam's mouth, his balance seriously shot. Adam is still hard, but when Kris reaches for him, Adam grabs his hand and pulls it away.
“There's time for that,” Adam whispers. His eyes are soft and warm and he touches Kris's cheek like he's surprised by something. “You'd better catch up with the rest before they notice you're missing. Call me sometime. We'll do a song together, maybe something else if you're still interested.”
“Yeah.” Kris nods, licking his lips and shivering when the taste of Adam's mouth is still there. Adam's brushing him down, straightening out his clothes. “I'd like that.”
“See you around, Kris Allen,” Adam says, with a wink. “I'll be voting for you. Oh, and you should get some tighter clothes. Let the audience get a look at all your assets, not just that pretty face.”
And then Adam walks away and Kris picks up Adam's card from where he'd dropped it on the floor, though he can't remember when that happened. He tucks it into the pocket of his jeans with trembling fingers.
He hears someone calling his name and he shakes himself out of his daze. It probably doesn't mean anything to Adam, whatever he said about noticing Kris. Not when the guy must get dozens of offers a day. Still... he touches the bit of paper in his pocket.
It won't hurt to wear tighter jeans.