Title: The First Time Ever I... (Part 2)
Summary: That abruptly reminds Kris there had been a reason for wanting to get Adam back to the mansion, to have him alone, and that reason is still burning up Kris’ agenda.
Author's Notes: Yay, Part B! Time for the sexin'! And without further ado, since I already wrote a thesis of an AN last time...
Colliding with Reality, Part 1
Colliding with Reality, Part 2: How Could You Be So...
Colliding with Reality, Part 3: Swimming with a Raincoat
Colliding with Reality, Part 4a: First Time Ever I...
Colliding with Reality, Part 4b:
The First Time Ever I…
For the rest of the evening, Kris’ time sense goes schizophrenic—now that Adam has arrived, the hours before the show speed by, a blur of lighthearted, carefree banter, and shoulder-holding, eye-meeting pep talks, a confusing blend of “of course we’ll make it” and “we’ve got to make it,” hours to minutes and minutes to seconds, until Kris’ family arrives at the studio and the seconds stretch beyond themselves into millennia, eons, plodding by at a tortuous crawl as he looks for any indication that his parents know—about his and Katy’s coming divorce, about his own emergent sexuality, about his and Adam’s developing relationship.
Then his family is shown to their seats in the audience with thirty minutes to go before show time, and time abruptly takes off again, carrying him through the show, slowing only for Adam (because apparently the man’s presence affects even the fourth dimension), a smile, a hug, a touch that acknowledges the paint and lack thereof on their nails, the support it represents, living as displaced time phenomena, still continuing, still felt, even as time races on around them.
The flow of time shudders to a halt as Kris’ name is called, as he is confirmed for the finale, giving Kris years to panic, gut wrenching so mercilessly that he’s doubled over by it, contemplating the next week without Adam—even though it’s not really, not with all of the Idols back for the finale, so contemplating the weeks after that, media rounds with Danny instead of Adam, building the tour around a top two that doesn’t include the person most deserving of being there, and it’s completely stupid and irrational, but it hurts—God, it hurts—because they haven’t… Because Kris didn’t…
And suddenly time blindsides him, and Ryan is saying Adam’s name. Adam’s arm around his shoulders as Danny sings his final song keeps him upright as the world resumes spinning properly on its axis, but Kris knows that before it turns for too long, there’s something that he’s got to do.
There are hours of press to get through after the show wraps for the night, because God forbid the media circus hold of till tomorrow so that Kris and Adam can take a break, celebrate with their families and friends, unwind before all the fuss and bother of the finale is thrown upon them.
Kris’ normal patience for such things has been stripped almost to nothing, because while he knows these reporters, these interviews, these incessant questions repeated over and over again are all part of the machine, all tied into what he’d signed on for with Idol, his sense of urgency has been kicked into high gear, because he’s got an ultimate goal in mind and all this is only standing in his way. In fact, if Adam weren’t at his side—in his eyesight, at least—through all of it, Kris might have snapped, particularly when the third reporter in a row brings up that old Enquirer article, because for the love of God, he is wearing the nail polish now—obviously he doesn’t have a problem with it.
Even after the press is through with them, their obligations for the night are not yet over, as, Danny having finished up with AI Extra, it’s time to head off to the farewell dinner—which it isn’t really, not with the finale next week and all of the Top 13 in attendance making it feel more like a “Ha, ha, you two suckers still have to go through the Idol meat grinder, and we don’t” party.
While Kris has to admit that it’s nice having everybody back together again, reinforcing that, yes, against all odds, he loves these people, every one of them, and the tour is going to be awesome, that he’s enjoying finally getting to talk to his family and bask in their support and well wishes, he and Adam have been catching each other’s eye all night, and all Kris wants to do is get out of here.
After Danny is bundled off for his truncated press tour, straight from the restaurant because Idol believes in the contestants not wasting its time, if not necessarily the reverse, it’s still quite some time before Kris and Adam can extricate themselves from the gathered swarm of friends and family. The remainder of the already eliminated contestants—who feel like long-lost family finally come home after being voted off the island—are especially clingy; Matt corners Kris for a solid forty-five minutes to relate his media adventures, taking particular delight in a story about an unusually enthusiastic member of the press who’d proposed to him on air and all but jumped his bones in front of a live audience, and Adam, much too far away from Kris in his seat across the table, is surrounded by Allison, Lil, and Megan, who look like they’re not planning on letting him loose any time soon.
However, with enough strategic yawning and a well-timed, almost completely intentional near-fall from his chair as he pretends to nod off (which sets Matt off on a laughing jag so long that Kris has to elbow him, and makes Adam’s knowing smile light with enough mischief that Allison demands to know what he’s up to), everyone eventually gets the idea that Kris is ready to call it a night. Kris and Adam’s fellow Idols gather around to bid them goodnight with hugs, kisses to the cheek, and some yelp-inducing goosing (apparently Megan is auditioning for the part of “dirty old man” this evening), before leaving for their hotel, and Kris and Adam themselves pile into the standard black SUVs with their families to head back to the mansion.
It’s their last night that they’ll spend at their sprawling abode before being shuffled over to a hotel for the finale week, and while the bulk of moving will occur in the morning, handled by the show—because over the course of the past months, all of the Idols had collected items that couldn’t fit into suitcases—Adam wants his mother to take personal custody of his humidifier, and Kris would prefer his brother, rather than movers he’s never met, hold on to his guitar, so their respective clans follow them into the mansion, helping them drag their already packed suitcases back inside for the night.
Kris’ guitar is already in one SUV, repacked and secure in its case where it’s been since thirty minutes before the show tonight, so Kris collapses on a stool at the island in the kitchen—habit more than anything: coming from the South, the kitchen had always been the natural gathering place in a house, and it has been no different in the Idol mansion. Leila heads down to Adam’s room to collect the humidifier, Adam having been persuaded by Kris’ father to give the remainder of the two families the ten-cent tour of the mansion, and Kris chuckles a little bit at Adam’s surprise at being asked—what Adam doesn’t know is that when Kris had first introduced Adam to his parents, just months ago though it seems like much, much longer, simply by being willing to discuss classic filmes noir with Kris’ father, Adam had made a friend for life of Neil Allen.
Kris watches as Adam leads the way upstairs, everyone falling in behind like ducklings behind their mother, which makes Kris smile because while Adam does tend to have that effect on people, Kris hadn’t been entirely certain if his own family would allow themselves to fall prey to Adam’s charm, and seeing it lights a certain hopefulness inside him when he contemplates their reactions to the revelations he’ll be unveiling in the future.
However, as Kris glances back into the kitchen, his smile freezes on his face as his time sense goes of the rails again because Katy’s standing across the island from him.
It’s the first time they’ve been alone together since Kris’ trip to Arkansas, and their positions remind him uncomfortably of the last time Katy had visited the mansion, when a bit of nail polish had sent their marriage into a tailspin—or maybe it was already spiraling out of control and neither of them had noticed the warning lights until then.
Katy glances back towards the foyer staircase, up which Adam and the tour group had just disappeared, before turning back to Kris, fingers absently twisting in a lock of pale blonde hair, a sure sign that she’s not completely comfortable with whatever she’s about to say, and Kris braces for impact.
“So…are you two…um, together? Officially, I mean.” The question is quiet, and while Kris can detect a hint of anger in her voice, a slight tremor that might eventually turn into tears, unless Kris is completely misreading her—which, let’s face it, is more than possible—her primary emotion is curiosity.
Fortunately Kris doesn’t have to backtrack or obfuscate—what he feels for Adam, what he’d felt for him from the start, how that impacted Katy, their marriage, these are things that Katy already knows because that night back home had been an unadulterated coming clean on Kris’ part, and he’d held nothing back. Katy had raged and cried and hated and forgiven, and while Kris hopes that the cycle won’t repeat, he has to admit, he won’t blame Katy if she feels the need.
As it is, he watches her face carefully, taking a breath, hands splayed on the island top for support, as he replies, straightforward and succinct, “Unofficially officially? Yeah, I guess we are.”
Katy nods, folding her hands on the countertop, deliberately still. “I would say that was quick, but…”
But Kris and Adam have been heading this direction almost from the moment they met—longer, for all Kris knows, because even though his version of God is pretty mellow and laidback, he has a wicked sense of humor. “Yeah.”
Katy’s eyes dart to the polish on Kris’ thumb, the shining mark of Adam upon him, and the blue turns worried, and just a bit sad. “Kris…are you sure this is what you want? How you want your life to be?”
Kris feels his stomach twist as she asks, guilt because he knows she doesn’t mean the question in terms of a relationship with Adam or a marriage to her, but rather, she’s referring to his choice of lifestyle, his acknowledgement and practice of his bisexuality in general, and her fear that his soul will be a casualty of his decision.
Voice gentle, Kris responds, blunt because he needs to be absolutely clear, for both their sakes, “I’m sure. Katy…I’m pretty certain I’m in love with him.”
Katy ducks her head quickly, not quite fast enough to hide how her face crumples, how wetness fills her eyes, and Kris sees a tear fall from her face, impact tiny and mute on the countertop. However, before Kris can rise to go to her, offer what feeble comfort he can, she raises her head once again, managing a tiny smile, even amid her tears.
“‘There is nothing love cannot face.’”
For a moment Kris is shocked into motionlessness because with that one sentence, Katy has given him both her forgiveness and her blessing, but Kris almost can’t speak because, dear God, she understands. After all this time, she finally understands. “‘There is no limit to its faith, hope, and endurance.’” He finishes the verse, affirming. °
Katy brushes the wetness from tearstained cheeks with the back of her hand, though Kris is fairly certain the brightness of her smile would have evaporated it soon enough. Kris is on his feet in a heartbeat, and she’s in his arms the next; holding each other tightly, they’re laughing while crying, joy and sadness indistinguishable in this moment, and if when their families return, they think Katy’s just congratulating him, that’s fine, because, at the heart of it, that is what she’s doing, and maybe Kris is congratulating her right back.
A move is eventually made towards the front door, and as Kris and Adam’s parents and assorted family members and friends gather around the two of them to say goodbye, it’s round two of hugs, handshakes, and kisses on the cheek. Their mothers must have agreed to some kind of joint custody of the two of them, because the goodbye hug Leila gives Kris feels just as tight as the one she gave Adam looked, and Kris’ own mother has reeled Adam in to lay a maternal kiss on his forehead, something that she’s done to Kris for years, though Adam being so much taller than Kris, never mind Kim, it’s a bit more of a comedy of errors here that leaves Kim beaming and Adam blushing.
Katy lingers behind the rest of the clan, waiting till the others are trying to figure out seating arrangements in the SUVs, before turning to Kris and pulling him in to a tight hug.
“I forgot to tell you how proud I am of you.”
Kris grins into her hair. “Thanks, Kate. Couldn’t have done it without you.”
She leans back a little, smile impish and eyes completely dry. “No, you couldn’t have.” She rises up on her toes to kiss Kris’ cheek, laughing as he pretends to splutter indignantly. “I love you.”
Kris returns the kiss and the sentiment, “Love you back,” expecting Katy to join the group settling into the SUVs, but taken completely off-guard as she turns to Adam.
“You,” she says, index finger prodding into Adam’s chest, “you better not ever even think about hurting him, because I will…do…something not nice to you.”
Though Kris can’t quite muffle his snort of laughter at Katy’s attempt at a threat, which earns him a brief glare from her, Adam’s face retains all seriousness as he replies, “If I ever do, I’ll hold still and let you.” The corner of Adam’s mouth turns up in a half-smile. “Though you have every right to do something not nice to me anytime, just for shits and giggles.”
Katy prods him in the chest again. “And just you remember that, mister.” She steps back from Adam, teasing suddenly gone to be replaced with something like acceptance. “What’s important, though, is that you make him happy—” They both glance over at Kris, and he ducks away from their gaze, well aware his face is probably burning right now. “—so as long as you keep doing that, I’ll give you a pass.”
Adam raises his right hand to his forehead in a half salute. “Can do, ma’am.”
“Good.” Katy nods in emphasis. After only a second’s hesitation, she stretches up to kiss Adam’s cheek; he meets her halfway, stooping a bit, and before Katy pulls away, Kris hears her whisper, “Take care of him,” before she’s out the door and climbing into one of the SUVs.
As Kris stands framed in the doorway, watching the SUVs pull away, he feels Adam’s hand come to rest on the small of his back, and Kris leans in to it, lets Adam support him just that little bit.
“Looks like you two had something of a breakthrough tonight.” His voice, its usual low, even timbre, sends heat flashing up along Kris’ spine from where Adam’s hand rests on his back.
Kris smiles as he sees Katy wave to him from her seat, waving back until the SUV turns a bend and out of sight. “Yeah, you could probably say that.”
Adam goes to close the front door, and Kris is suddenly cold, freezing in the absence of Adam’s touch, and that abruptly reminds Kris there had been a reason for wanting to get Adam back to the mansion, to have him alone, and that reason is still burning up Kris’ agenda.
Adam huffs a little breath of laughter as he turns the lock. “I have to admit, it’s not every day I’m threatened by someone’s—”
Kris can’t even wait for Adam to finish his sentence. As soon as he hears the lock click into place, his hand is on Adam’s elbow, spinning the other man back to face him. Kris barely takes the time to marvel at the rare sight of seeing Adam stumble, natural grace overpowered by the suddenness of Kris’ movement, before his other hand goes to the back of Adam’s neck, pulling him in to Kris’ body, and Adam, always adaptable and quick on the uptake, meets him halfway, hands going to Kris’ waist to lift him slightly onto his toes, Adam’s lips already parted to receive Kris’ kiss.
The kiss quickly goes beyond Kris’ clumsy advance of a week ago, beyond the stolen moment last night, from 0 to 100 like they’ve got a JATO rocket ° strapped to them. Kris uses his grip on Adam’s elbow to encourage a closer embrace, and when Adam’s hand slips from his waist, lower, over his ass, grip firm and pressing them tightly together, it’s all Kris can do to keep from climbing Adam like a tree, trying to get even closer, trying to get inside.
Kris lets go of Adam’s arm to grip at his shoulder, other hand sliding up from Adam’s neck to bury fingers in the soft, short hair at his nape, muscles tense as he tries to keep his body from following his head into the clouds. He takes the kiss deeper, tongue thrusting into Adam’s mouth in time with the helpless rocking of his hips, Adam responding in kind, using the hand on Kris’ ass to steady Kris’ erratic thrusts, guiding them, making them harder, longer, till they achieve a rhythm that has Kris nearly out of his mind with need.
He feels Adam shift, walking him backwards. Kris has no idea where they’re going or why, and he couldn’t care less, because all he can think about is how the motion presses Adam into him, how he can feel the heat of Adam’s rapidly hardening cock against his stomach, and it’s something Kris has never felt before, never thought to experience, but God, he wants it, the intensity of his desire frightening him a little, but not enough to make him pull away, not with his own erection straining at the confines of his jeans, tucked into the jut of Adam’s hip.
Mouths still moving against each other, parting only for gasped breaths before meeting again, Kris disentangles himself from Adam just enough to tug at the collar of Adam’s jacket, pushing it back over his shoulders and Adam shrugging it the rest of the way off, letting it drop to the ground before pulling at Kris’ own suit jacket, hands skimming along Kris’ shoulders and over his now bare arms as Adam shoves it off, tossing it with a little more care onto a nearby table, and Kris would have laughed at that, because even now, Adam cannot bring himself to disrespect clothes completely, but Kris’ mouth is too busy with other things at the moment to spare the breath.
Adam keeps guiding Kris backwards, and Kris barely notices they’ve entered the living room, too occupied with keeping track of Adam’s hands, one still on his ass, kneading the flesh through the fabric of Kris’ jeans, the other slipping under Kris’ t-shirt, sliding slowly up from Kris’ waist, over his ribs, curving around his shoulderblade, movement slow, like Adam is mapping the terrain of Kris’ body, like Adam’s trying to take him all in with one touch.
Kris’ own hands are no less busy, also seeking out bare flesh and shoving Adam’s shirt up impatiently, fabric bunching around Kris’ wrists as he runs his palms over flat stomach and defined chest, all leanly muscled, so different from the women Kris has known in the past, and Kris is surprised by the degree to which it turns him on, that Adam is so obviously strong, sturdy, more than capable of bearing Kris’ weight and more. That Adam could easily overpower him, take from Kris whatever he wanted if he so chose, doesn’t scare him so much as that he finds that fact exciting, but that Adam keeps that strength in check, allowing the give as well as the take, strikes Kris deep to the core, and any question remaining as to whether Kris is in love with Adam is answered.
Kris has just decided to see if he can force his hands away from the lure of Adam’s skin long enough to get Adam’s shirt the rest of the way off when he feels himself abruptly lifted, startled grunt disappearing quickly into Adam’s mouth, seated on something that boosts him up a good four or five inches (given where they are, probably the high back of one of the couches, though Kris is a little too involved in mapping the contours of Adam’s mouth with his tongue to look down to confirm that), and this is an absolutely fantastic idea because standing on his toes for so long to reach Adam had made his legs decidedly shaky (at least, that’s the excuse he’s sticking with) and he can imagine that the slight stoop Adam has been maintaining couldn’t have been terribly comfortable either, and now that they’re on even footing, figuratively at least, it’s a whole new angle from which to explore Adam.
At least, it’s a fantastic idea until Kris loses his balance, because unfortunately the couch back isn’t nearly as wide as it is tall, pitching backwards, and only Adam’s quick reflexes save him from what would have been a very painful dismount.
Kris laughs breathlessly, a little shaky from the sudden surge of adrenaline at his near miss. “Thanks.”
Adam exhales a laugh, “You’re welcome,” before his expression turns slightly apprehensive, which makes Kris a little nervous, even as his eyes are drawn to the way Adam’s tongue darts out to wet kiss-swollen lips. “Are you sure about this? I mean, it’s an awfully big step, considering you’ve never, ah…been with another man. And since it’s only been a week since we…”
Kris wraps his arms tightly around Adam, pulling him back in from where he’d withdrawn a little. “You’ve got to know it’s been more than a week.”
Adam cocks his head to the side in question, tongue flicking back out absently to moisten his lips again, and Kris really wishes he’d stop doing that, because it’s terribly distracting.
“Adam…I’ve been thinking about this for months, I think since we were put into the same group back in the semis. Granted, probably more often in the last week, but…this isn’t some kind of…sudden impulse or—or momentary insanity on my part.” And he’s back to thinking the whole couch thing is a fantastic idea because now he can bring his legs into play, wrapping them around Adam’s waist and using them to pull the other man tightly in to him, echoing Adam’s startled moan as their erections meet in sudden, intimate contact, and he never could have done this while they were standing (or hey, maybe he could have, and yeah, there’s a thought to be filed away for later reference). “I want this. With you. Now.”
The answer satisfies Adam, if the low, throaty growl he gives before covering Kris’ mouth with his own again is any indication. Kris regrets briefly not expounding on all his reasons, not letting Adam know that he’s in love with him, but no, in that context, it could have come across as coercion or, worse, lying to save Adam’s feelings, and that’s not how Kris wants those words to be received. However, Kris still wants to tell him, tonight, so when Adam pulls back from their kiss to say, “How about we take this somewhere a little more private?” Kris says, “Yeah. And remind me later I have something to tell you.”
Adam looks a little confused, but he nods assent, steadying Kris as he jumps down from the couch back before offering him his hand. Without hesitation, Kris slips his hand into Adam’s, noting absently as they head towards the stairway to their rooms how much larger Adam’s hand is than Katy’s, any females' with whom he’d held hands in the past, and it’s one more item to add to the steadily growing list of things about Adam that Kris never expected to turn him on.
They wind up in Kris’ room, and Kris barely has time to blink before Adam is on him again, apparently taking Kris at his word that he’s ready, because his mouth is absolutely devouring Kris, hands sweeping down his back, then quickly back up, bringing Kris’ shirt with them.
Adam is just a font of fantastic ideas tonight, and Kris responds in kind, tugging Adam’s shirt up and over his head, the necklace as well. Suddenly Kris is confronted with a wide expanse of pale, freckled skin that leaves Kris wishing for another set of hands, because he wants to touch it all right now.
Kris toes off his shoes and socks, but Adam has to disengage to take care of his, sitting on the edge of the bed to tug off his boots. Feet bare, he shifts to stand again, but Kris stops him with a hand to his shoulder, because he’s been struck with a fantastic idea of his own.
Kris uses the hand on Adam’s shoulder for balance as he kneels on the floor before Adam, smiling wickedly as Adam’s eyes widen in shock as Kris’ hands land on his knees, sliding up to his thighs, pushing Adam’s legs open as he does and slotting himself in between. The bulge in Adam’s jeans gives him pause, but not for long, fingers shaking only slightly as they pop the button, draw the zipper down tooth by tooth, and God, Adam’s bare underneath, which shouldn’t have surprised him, considering how tight those pants are. The head of Adam’s cock is just visible, framed by the open zipper, purpled and leaking already, and licking his lips, Kris reaches to lift the rest into view as well, hand sliding gently, curiously along Adam’s hard length, the heat of it burning into Kris’ palm, down farther to caress softly furred balls, pulling at Adam’s zipper until it is all bared to his hungry gaze.
Adam is certainly well-endowed, but not freakishly so, and Kris runs his fingers over the tip, gathering the fluid there and using it to slick his hand before stroking down the length of Adam’s cock and back up, watching Adam’s face so that he knows when he’s found the perfect rhythm, the one that makes Adam’s eyes roll back in his head before they flutter closed, that turns his breathing to panting, makes him throw his head back and curl his fingers into the sheets of Kris’ unmade bed.
Kris’s heated gaze falls back to Adam’s cock in his hand, and he waits for the nervousness to overtake him, the apprehension, because in the next few seconds, he fully intends to take that cock into his mouth, but the nervousness and apprehension, they don’t come, because with Adam, he’s never felt anything other than completely at ease, and it seems now will be no different.
At Kris’ first tentative taste, tongue swirling around the head, Adam’s hands find their way to Kris’ head, not pushing, not guiding, just holding, fingers carding through Kris’ short hair, and Kris loves him a little more for that, that he’s not making Kris stop, not telling him he doesn’t have to do this, trusting that Kris made his own decision and letting him explore.
While Kris has zero experience from this side of the situation, he’s spent his fair share of time on the other, so he keeps in mind what he himself likes as he takes Adam into his mouth, one hand circling the base of Adam’s cock, the other absently stroking Adam’s thigh, frustrated slightly by the jeans Adam is still wearing, but unwilling to give up his present task to remedy it. He bobs his head shallowly at first, just savoring the feel of Adam, the way his cock fills his mouth, running his tongue along its length and taking note of what actions produce what sounds from Adam. Gradually he tries to take Adam deeper, a little at a time, completely unsurprised but still a little disappointed when his gag reflex keeps him from taking Adam all the way in.
As Kris starts to vary the rhythm, taking Adam as deeply as he can one moment, the next withdrawing completely to trace his tongue along the head or down the shaft, Adam’s hands start moving like he can’t keep them still, running over as much of Kris as he can reach, all the while whispering an often nonsensical litany of encouragement and endearments.
Kris takes Adam deep once again, hand at the base of Adam’s cock stroking what Kris can’t take, and the moan that wrenches from Adam feels soul-deep. Kris feels gentle fingers tracing trembling paths over his face, along an eyebrow, cheek, jaw, finally touching his lips where they’re stretched wide around Adam, and that’s when Adam loses it.
The growl that rumbles up from Adam’s chest is a bit startling, deep and possessive, and Adam pulls Kris off his cock. Before Kris can complain—because he had actually really been enjoying himself, relishing the pleasure he wrung from Adam, and he’d been looking forward to feeling Adam come—Adam has pulled him to his feet and is all but tearing his jeans and boxers off him before tugging Kris down to lie on the bed.
Kris watches in fascination from his impromptu sprawl across the sheets as Adam rolls to his knees between Kris’ legs, tugging his own pants the rest of the way off, and there’s that nervousness that was missing earlier, because he doesn’t know how this is going to work. He wonders if Adam wants to fuck him, which, granted, the thought of it has been a favorite masturbatory fantasy of Kris’ and he definitely wants to try it at some point, but he’s pretty sure he’s not ready for that yet, though he’s equally sure that if that’s what Adam wants, he won’t say no.
Jeans tossed aside, Adam stretches out over Kris, covering Kris’ body with his own, and oh, yeah, Kris can work with this, Adam’s weight pressing him into the mattress, cock slick with Kris’ saliva thrusting against his own, Adam propping himself up on his elbows so that he can run his tongue teasingly along the seam of Kris’ lips before sweeping inside as Kris opens his mouth.
Their rhythm escalates quickly from leisurely to desperate, the sensations too new, too perfect to make them last. Kris lifts his knees, bracing his feet against the bed to gain better leverage, grinding up into Adam, Adam taking it a step further, sliding his hand up Kris’ thigh to his upraised knee, encouraging Kris to wrap the leg around his waist, shifting their angle and bringing them that millimeter closer.
Adam reaches critical mass first, but only barely, hot come spilling between their stomachs as they continue moving together, Kris only seconds behind, release joining Adam’s between them.
Kris foils Adam’s attempt to collapse gentlemanly to the side, pulling the other man down fully on top of him, arms wrapped around his waist and head tucked into the crook of his neck. “Thank you.”
Kris feels Adam’s laugh against his temple. “I think you’ve got that backwards, because if anyone needs to thank someone, it’s me.” He pulls back to look down into Kris’ face. “I can’t believe you went down on me.”
Kris blushes hotly, laughing a little self-consciously, because wow, he really had. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Oh, it was,” Adam says quickly. “Believe me, it was. You were…you were… I don’t even have the words to describe how fantastic you were.” Adam raises an eyebrow at him, expression teasingly skeptical. “You’re sure you’ve never done that before?”
Kris is still blushing, but the self-consciousness has been replaced with pleasure at Adam’s reaction. “Very sure. I was just…motivated.”
Adam leans down to kiss him, short, close-mouthed, and happy. “Well, it’s working for you.” Then he shifts, hands pressing down onto the mattress, lifting himself off of Kris.
Not letting Adam out of the circle of his arms, Kris says, prepared to launch into full-blown pout if need be, “Where do you think you’re going?”
Adam nods his head toward their shared bathroom. “Washcloth. If you thought dealing with your own come was bad, just wait till you’ve got another guy’s load on you, too.”
Kris’ face wrinkles in distaste. “Okay, gross.”
Adam nods enthusiastically. “Exactly. So, washcloth.”
Kris lets Adam up, and he’s back in no time with a damp washcloth. Apparently having taken care of himself in the bathroom, he runs the rag over Kris, and Kris would tease Adam for taking Katy’s command of “Take care of him” a little too far, but he’s enjoying the caring in Adam’s touch a little too much to say anything that might make him stop.
Adam disposes of the washcloth and rejoins Kris on the bed, pulling the sheets up over them. Suddenly lethargic, Kris nestles into Adam’s side, arm thrown across his stomach, one leg entwining with Adam’s, head settled comfortably on Adam’s shoulder, nuzzling happily into Adam’s neck as he feels the other man’s arm wrap tightly around him.
Adam’s breathing quickly becomes deep and even. Kris thinks he’s fallen asleep and is about to nod off himself when Adam says, voice a sleepy whisper, “Oh, yeah, I was supposed to…uh, remind you to…tell me something?”
Kris’ eyes snap open, and he takes a second to berate himself for having forgotten. “Right. I, uh…wanted to tell you that I…that I love you.”
His head still resting on Adam’s shoulder, he feels Adam’s breath catch, hand over Adam’s heart feeling the way it starts pounding. Adam looks down at Kris, and Kris lifts his head to meet Adam’s gaze, leaning back against Adam’s arm, which has tightened slightly around him.
“Yeah?” Adam’s voice is soft, fragile, like with the slightest injury, it would shatter into a million pieces, irrecoverable.
Kris smiles, a little tentative. “Yeah,” he confirms.
Adam’s smile is blinding and so wide it has to hurt, and it doesn’t leave his face even as he rises up to kiss Kris. He pulls back just enough to speak, “I love you, too. So much,” before reclaiming Kris’ lips.
The next morning, as Kris and Adam stand side by side for interviews, when a reporter asks jokingly how Kris can look so happy when he’s obviously so tired, he suppresses laughter as he gives his pat answer, but the truth is in the way Adam’s eyes meet his in amusement, in the way their smiles reveal nothing to the reporters and everything to each other, in the unobtrusive brush of hand against hand.
° The verse is 1 Corinthians 13:7, and while I’d love to tell you which version of the Bible it came from, I have no idea. I found this phrasing at this site, but it didn’t reference any particular version of the Bible. I crosschecked at least two dozen translations (no, I’m not kidding; I was that crazy into it) and even summoned up the nerve to ask my uncle, who is a Methodist preacher (who fortunately didn’t ask me why I wanted to know), where if he recognized it, and he, too, was stumped. I liked this version because most of the others used some phrasing resembling “there is nothing love cannot bear,” which sounds kind of depressing to me. “There is nothing love cannot face,” just sounds a lot more hopeful and reflected more what I thought Katy’s state of mind would be in that moment.
° “JATO rocket” = “Jet Assisted Take Off” rocket. Why yes, I do watch way too much Mythbusters. Why do you ask?
More A/N: The title of this part came from