Archive of Our Own

Pop Goes the World

It starts off completely innocently, and totally not his fault. Adam realizes that ought to be the first line of his autobiography – if he ever writes one – since it applies to damn near everything he's ever done. Things start off innocently enough, and not at all his fault, and they end with him high as a kite in some hash den in Amsterdam, getting a handjob under the table from some guy he's never met before who doesn't speak a word of English. Adam's accepted it. He's just drawn that way.

In this case, the innocent action is the Idol staffers giving them very nice digital cameras and offering the order-disguised-as-a-suggestion that they take pictures of themselves and each other during the tour and post them to their Twitters or their websites. Anything that would get people more excited for the tour. They're also gently reminded that it's a family show so pictures involving alcohol, drug use, or nudity would not be appropriate.

For some reason, the nervous-looking guy reading the statement keeps glancing at Adam as he reads that part, as if Adam has plans to take tacky MySpace-style mirror-pics of himself in a bustier. Adam bites his lip to keep from informing the guy that it would be so five years ago.

The thing is that, for the last several years anyway, Adam's loved to pose. His friends have wanted to take pictures of him and he's always obliged. But he's never been much of a photog himself. Most of the others take to the idea with a lukewarm enthusiasm, half-heartedly snapping shots at party nights or jam sessions, but Adam becomes the one who stops to capture Allison curled on a window seat with her lyrics book, and leans in for a close-up of Scott's hands on the keys of his piano.

He finds that he likes this side of the lens.

And he takes fun pictures, too, of course, because now that he's learned to 'tweet' pictures, the fans expect shenanigans.

One night as the bus is rocking along, he pokes the memory stick into his computer and searches for a suitably fun picture to share. There's a great one of Matt and Anoop jumping up for a celebratory chest-bump that's a little blurry, but Adam likes the feeling of motion it conveys.

He enlarges it to full size, checking for contraband material in the background and notices something that makes his finger stop. Kris is standing there, weight shifted to one side, and he's stretching up towards the ceiling. It looks like he's trying to crack his back or something, but what Adam's eyes are drawn to is the strip of skin that's showing where his t-shirt has pulled up.

He doesn't know what's so exciting about it. He's seen Kris without a shirt on plenty of times, but there's something about the fact that Kris is completely unaware of the camera, of Adam, of how completely adorable he looks. It's something private. Something almost voyeuristic.

Looking around guiltily, he closes the picture. He finds the one that Lil emailed him that shows him braiding Allison's hair, and he sends it off to his Twitter followers. Then he closes the computer and goes back to his bunk, wondering if he has time to jerk off before Kris finishes the magazine he's reading and comes to bed, because clearly he's got way too much pent-up energy.

The next day, Adam decides to embrace his perversion. There's not a thing wrong with taking pictures. He has absolutely zero intention of trying to bust in on Kris while he's in the shower, so it's totally not invasive. He's just taking pictures. Like they're supposed to do.

It's his own little urban safari. To that end, he selects cargo pants and a leopard-print belt when he puts his outfit together. It's a crying shame he doesn't own a pith helmet.

Armed with his camera, he files off the bus with the other guys. They're doing some kind of meet-and-greet with fans who won a local morning radio show contest. It's ass 'o clock in the morning, but they've thoughtfully provided coffee so Adam can't be too angry.

He sets his coffee down and leans against the wall, trying to eye his prey as subtly as possible. He lifts the camera and zooms in on Kris tearing a sugar packet open with his teeth. Perfect. Then Kris reaches for the non-dairy creamer, and Adam catches the way his shirt pulls tight across his chest. Even more perfect. He makes a mental note to ask Kris if he wants to go to the gym together next time they have a chance.

He's lining up a shot of Kris licking his lips after a sip when Anoop says, "You gonna take any pictures of the rest of us, or is this a stalker thing?"

Adam swallows but flips his hand in a completely nonchalant way. "I have no idea what you're talking about. That last picture was of Megan. You look beautiful today, darling," he says, offering Megan a bright smile. She beams and thanks him, and Adam hopes it'll be enough to change the focus of the conversation.

However, Danny, who, once a thought comes into his head can never let it go until he beats it into the ground, says, "Is this some kind of 'bromance' thing? Taking pictures of Kris all day?"

Danny is insanely jealous of the media attention that Adam and Kris have gotten, and even more jealous of the fact that all his attempts to steal the bromance label for himself have been quashed. Adam wants to tell him that it helps to actually connect with the person you're attempting to be pseudo-romantically linked to, but he doesn't want to encourage him.

"I take pictures of a lot of people," Adam says, his voice a little colder now. He can put up with teasing from the others, but Danny's comments occasionally have an edge to them that makes the hairs on the back of Adam's neck stand up. Adam slides the camera into his pocket, hoping no one will ask to look through his pictures.

Then Kris is next to him, coffee in one hand, looping the other hand easily around Adam's waist. Adam puts his arm around Kris's shoulders automatically. "You're just jealous that we're Kradam," Kris says, his tone light but his message clear.

Adam squeezes his shoulder. Danny grins showing too many of his teeth at once and says, "I think my problem is I'm not monogamous." Adam doesn't know why that's supposed to be funny, but he dutifully chuckles along with the rest of them.

Then Allison asks something about how long they're going to be there and whether there will be free time after. Whether she meant to or not, she changes the focus of the conversation, and Adam's grateful as he takes a deep breath.

He glances at Kris, still tucked under his arm. He seems content to stay there – he does fit rather well – so Adam relaxes against him. "I haven't been taking pictures of you. Not in a creepy way."

"Dude, you don't have to explain."

"Well, it's weird the way they made it sound."

"Yeah, but it's not the way they made it sound so don't worry about it."

Adam smiles and squeezes Kris's shoulder again. Kris lets go and wanders off to grab a bagel. Adam sighs as he watches Kris walk away. He feels a bit guilty because it really is how they made it sound, and he needs to stop it. It's not fair.

But then Kris takes a big bite of bagel and Adam can tell there's gonna be cream cheese on his upper lip, and the camera's in his hand before he can think twice about it.

He knows it's creepy. It's creepy the way he makes a big show of taking a picture of Lil's new shoes, or Michael trying to use chopsticks at dinner, but whenever he takes a picture of Kris, it's subtly, quietly, often from across the room. He tweets pictures of everyone other than Kris so often that when Danny shows him how to check the messages people are sending to him, nearly half of them are from girls who are upset that he's apparently not spending time with Kris.

Danny tells Kris this fact over lunch, but Kris smiles and says, "Tell them it's because I'm always next to you. That'll make them happy."

After they eat, everyone heads for rehearsal. Allison tells the others to go on ahead and that she and Adam and Kris will catch up. She then wrestles Adam's camera out of his pocket – the girl has serious boundary issues – and tells him she's going to take a picture of him and Kris together so he can tweet it to the fangirls.

They stand there, arms around each other, heads close, like they have in a million pictures before, and Allison snaps a few. "Now kiss Kris on the cheek," she tells him.

Adam pulls away like Kris is radioactive. "I'm not going to do that! You know how some people are. They already act like I'm some kind of sexual predator who's probably going to molest him in his sleep."

"Yes, but the other half of people want you to molest him," Allison says. She means it as a joke, of course, but Adam clenches his fists.

"It's not funny, Alli. There are a lot of people in this world that think that I would do something like that just because I'm a... deviant or whatever," he says with a sneer. "I know Danny thinks the media attention is a cake walk, but I don't exactly enjoy being painted as a guy who would take advantage of his best friend."

He realizes that Kris and Allison are both staring at him with horror. Allison recovers first and comes over to put her arms around Adam's waist, leaning her head on his chest. "People really think that?" she asks, her voice small. He knows it's hard for kids as young as Allison to understand. She had kids in her high school who were out, and it was no big deal. Things have come a long way, but it's not perfect by any stretch of the imagination.

"Sweetie, you have to remember that it was only like forty years ago that some assholes were trying to make laws all over the place saying that gay people couldn't be teachers or work with kids because they thought... Well, you know what I mean. They trust the straight guys to be around you and Megan and Lil, and no one expects them to do anything, but it's different for me."

He realizes he's being more vehement because he feels a bit guilty. Not that he'd ever do anything, but he'd like to. However, it's not because he's gay and has loose morals and Kris is hot. It's because Kris is Kris and Adam is Adam and if things were different...

"Take another one, Alli," Kris says, his voice a little gruff. Allison takes the camera and releases Adam, backing up to line up the shot. Kris puts his arms around Adam in a sideways hug and presses his lips to Adam's cheek. Adam and Allison both burst into surprised giggles, but Kris stays put, his mouth soft against Adam's skin.

Then he moves away and takes the camera from Allison, looking at the display. "Perfect," he says with a little smile that if it were on anyone other than Kris might have been described as nasty. "Tweet that one. And c'mon. We shouldn't keep everyone waiting on us."

He puts the camera in Adam's hand and grabs Allison, pulling her towards the door. She links her arm through his and Adam trails behind them, staring at the picture on the little screen. Thanks to Adam's genuine laughter, the picture looks totally natural. Adam thinks he looks pretty cute – he does always look good when he's laughing – and Kris's determination shows in his tight grip, which makes his biceps look incredible. Adam tucks the camera away and doesn't take it out for the entire afternoon rehearsal. He's strangely paranoid that if he turns the camera on, the picture will accidentally get deleted.

They have a show that night, and he has to wait literally forever for all the other guys to leave him alone. They're all so keyed up after shows, and no one wants to be the first to call it a night. Finally, everyone wanders off to bed and Adam snatches his computer so he can view the infamous picture in full size. It's even more adorable blown up, and Adam almost doesn't want to share it. But Kris did it for a reason. He did it to prove a point. To say a big fuck you to the homophobes who think that there's something unsavory about Adam.

Adam chuckles to think of the way he keeps saying he doesn't want to be a civil rights leader; he wants to be a musician. Yet, here's down-home, unassuming Kris Allen, straighter than straight, becoming the next gay rights activist. He thinks that PFLAG ought to get Kris to do some PSAs. Shaking his head, he uploads the picture before he can change his mind.

He looks at the remaining characters in his Twitter box and types, "Kris & I r sorry for lack of pix. He says to tell u hes usually next 2 me." He shakes his head, wondering what sort of 'speculation' the next day will bring, and hopes it'll mostly be the good, if slightly uncomfortable, kind.

Of course, because his life is, at times, a complete and utter farce, he wakes up to a media shitstorm. There are twenty-nine missed calls on his cell phone, mostly from his parents and his brother, asking if he's seen the news and that he should call right away.

Not wanting to hear his mother's version of the story, which will undoubtedly be phrased to protect his delicate feelings – or any of his friends' versions for that matter – he grabs his netbook from the storage area next to his bunk and googles himself before he even gets out of bed. His stomach lurches and he sort of wishes he'd asked his mother first. Headlines scream, "Is Lambert Reason for Allen Divorce?" "Idol Love Triangle Tears Family Apart," "Trial Separation No Trial for Idol Allen," and "Fairytale Romance Ends in Gay Scandal for Idol Winner Kris Allen."

There are more, but he closes the window. Then he realizes that this can't be over a picture – it's not like it was a sex tape. There's a side of the story he's not getting. He opens Google again and types in Kris's name and 'divorce,' his heart in his throat. There are a bunch of articles about how Kris and Katy have separated and how their marriage isn't working. And it's not idle gossip, either. Reputable sites feature quotes from both Kris and Katy. He can't conceive of any universe in which he wouldn't have heard about this before the gossip sites.

He slams the computer down and climbs out of the bunk. Kris is sitting on his own bunk under Adam's, looking like he's just been patiently waiting for Adam to come down and start yelling at him. "What the fuck is going on? Why didn't you say anything?"

"It only came out in the press today. I've been working it all out with the producers. They didn't want me to tell anyone. It doesn't exactly look good, you know. I'm the first married winner, and Idol is 'tearing my marriage apart,' or whatever." he says, making finger quotes. "And I was going to tell you yesterday, before you could see it online, but then you said all that stuff about what some people think, and I realized what they were going to say. What they were going to ask you."

Adam stares at him for a moment. "So you realized that people are going to imply that I had something to do with your problems with your wife, and your solution to that problem was to suggest I spread around a picture of us kissing?" He realizes that he's nearly yelling at this point, and he hopes that the rest of the guys aren't lurking around the corner listening. But they probably are. It's a bus, and there isn't much privacy.

Kris stands up then, getting in Adam's personal space and looking surprisingly pissed off. "It was a picture of me kissing you. Of me kissing you. How do you not realize the difference?"

He storms off and Adam has a strange desire to press his hand to his forehead like a fainting debutante. He should have known. Just Kris deciding to fall on his sword, of course. Only Kris would think that the best solution to take the heat off Adam would be to put it on himself. Stupid, beautiful, misguided, loveable man.

Adam sits down hard on Kris's bunk and puts his head in his hands.

They meet in a hotel banquet room to have a big official lunch with all ten Idols and several of the key production people. Kris tells them all that he and Katy are having some problems and that they're trying to get through it, but that they've decided to separate for a while as they work it out. Everyone's reaction is subtly different. Michael looks depressed. Lil looks a little angry. Allison looks bizarrely speculative. Danny looks blatantly suspicious, and Adam curls his lip at him.

They're all given a lecture on how the official stance, hashed out between Kris and the producers, is that if the others are asked, they should say that everyone is hopeful that things will be worked out soon and blah-blah first year of marriage and blah-blah time apart, etc. etc.

Adam listens with half an ear, already anticipating the twist of the questions he'll get asked. Then Danny, who apparently either didn't see or chose to ignore Adam's earlier lip-curling, asks, "What should we say if they ask about Adam?"

"Ask what about me, Danny?" Adam asks with a sneer. "If it's my fault? Is that what you're thinking?"

"Shut up," Kris snaps. "It's not your fault." He turns to Danny. "Tell them what I asked you to tell them," he says, his voice low and angry.

And of course, because of that whole beating-thoughts-into-the-ground thing, Danny persists, "After that picture... And those interviews? That one where you said you had a crush on him? Well, you know they're going to ask..."

"Tell them what I asked you to tell them," Kris repeats. "People can make up whatever theories they want to make up, but if you're my friends, you won't encourage them to hurt Adam. Or me."

With that, he gets up and leaves the room. Adam has his hands on the table, ready to get up and go after him when he meets Allison's eyes across the table. She gives him a little head-shake and gets up to find Kris herself.

Adam takes a bite of his salad, but his mouth is so dry it's like chewing hay. He can feel eyes on him, eyes of people who are supposed to trust him. He puts his fork down, takes a long drink, and stands up. "What do you want me to say?" he asks, startling everyone. "I did. Not. Have. Sexual relations with that man. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Dude, no one thinks you did," Matt says, looking embarrassed.

"Well, I think you need to hear it. I think Danny needs to hear it." Danny looks away, although if it's in guilt or defiance, Adam can't tell. "I didn't blow him on the bus, I didn't give him a handjob in a hotel, and I didn't fuck him in fucking 'Frisco, do you understand me?" He's shouting now, and Anoop and Michael both stand up, either to comfort him or to restrain him, so he throws his napkin down and leaves, deliberately going the opposite direction that Kris went.

No one follows him, and he's not sure if he should feel relieved or depressed about that.

Eventually, Adam has no choice but to go back to the bus, but luckily everyone gives him a wide berth. He doesn't see Kris anywhere, and for once he's glad about that. He climbs into his bunk and grabs his computer. He pulls up the file of all the pictures of Kris. He wonders if somehow, even in a small way, it is his fault.

He knows that it's got to be hard. Not just to be away from your husband, but to have your husband become an overnight sex symbol to thousands of screaming girls. It probably sucks pretty badly for Katy, although if it were him, he'd stick it out no matter what it took. Not just because Kris is sweet and hot and a musical genius who's undoubtedly going to be rich and famous and amazing, but because he's Kris. It's beyond Adam why anyone wouldn't want him, regardless of the sacrifices involved.

He's not sure how long he's been sitting there staring at his stalkerish photo album before Kris pokes his head through the curtains. Adam tilts the computer away. "Hi."

"Hi. Can I come up?"

Adam scoots over, closing the computer. "Mi casa es su casa."

Kris climbs up and sits next to Adam, but he doesn't say anything. Adam plays with the corner of a blanket. "I'm sorry. About earlier. About not understanding. I still think you're an idiot for trying to take the heat off me. Only you would think about someone else while you're having problems with your wife."

Kris shrugs, but doesn't say anything. Adam continues, "I think everyone's a little scared of me right now."

"Why?"

"After you left at lunch, I sort of flipped out on Danny. On everyone, really."

"What did you do?"

"I told them all that I never laid a hand on you in a less than platonic fashion."

Kris smirks a little. "Is that all? Doesn't seem like enough to scare anyone."

Adam smiles back and admits, "Well, I might have used more explicit language at a higher volume."

"You didn't have to do that. If they want to think things like that, they're not our real friends."

Adam nods. "I felt like it needed saying."

"And you wanted a chance to yell at everyone."

"That too. You know, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about Katy."

"Me too. I feel like a real dick. I'm sure it's not easy to watch your husband tell the entire universe that he's got a crush on a guy."

Adam hears a sort of roar inside his head like listening to a seashell. "That's not funny."

"Who says I'm being funny? I said it, and I meant it."

"How could you have a crush on me?" Adam asks, his head still buzzing.

He's opening his mouth to say, 'You're straight,' when Kris says, "Why wouldn't I? You're all the things guys like me wish we were." He looks down at his hands, blushing a little. "Exciting. Self-confident. Interesting."

Adam stares at Kris, wondering if he's suffered a head injury. "Are you insane? You're the kind of guy everyone wants to be! You're the kind of guy who throws himself in front of a bus for his friend, just so people won't call him the Big Bad Fag behind his back. Why would you do that?"

Then Kris leans over and kisses Adam's cheek again, more tenderly this time. When Adam turns his head in surprise, Kris kisses him again, this time on the corner of the mouth. It's almost a real kiss but not quite.

Adam pulls away, his heart pounding a mile a minute. "What are you doing?"

"What you won't do. Because you're not the kind of guy who takes advantage of his best friend. Because you're not the kind of guy who'd molest anyone who wasn't asking you for it." He leans in again and kisses Adam, this time for real, and Adam can't help kissing back.

Then Adam laughs a little against Kris's mouth and Kris pulls back to look at him. "So this is you... What? Asking to be molested?"

"I separate from my wife, tell you I have... feelings for you, and then kiss you. And you think I'm just being friendly? Do I need to send you an invitation?"

"Sorry, this is just really fucking weird."

"You think this is weird? Try being me right about now," Kris says. His self-effacing humor makes Adam smile. He's not going to let this opportunity pass him by, though.

"It's not really any different."

"It's definitely different," Kris protests, and Adam can almost see him cataloging the ways.

"This," Adam says, getting close and feathering his lips over Kris's, giddy with the completely unreal feeling of the situation, "isn't any different."

Kris nods, and Adam pulls him close. He wants to touch, and from the way Kris is running his hands over Adam's arms and his back, Kris has wanted to touch too. They sit there for a minute on the cramped bunk on top of Adam's rumpled week-old sheets, just kissing. The kisses are chaste, close-mouthed, with a delicacy to them that tells Adam just how scared Kris is, even though he's come this far. They touch each other's backs, shoulders, arms, necks, collarbones, but nowhere more intimate.

Somehow it's more than enough for Adam.

"We're going to get caught," Kris whispers against Adam's lips.

"Oh yeah," Adam whispers back. "Totally busted. Probably many times. In many places. Doing many things." He touches Kris's cheek and it's hot under his hand, making him wonder if Kris is thinking of the things they could do and the places where they could do them.

Adam's hard. He's been hard for a while, but he doesn't feel any sense of urgency. There's still a quality to the whole encounter as if he could blink too hard and pop it like a soap bubble. Kris still hasn't said anything, so Adam asks, "Do you mind?"

"Mind what?" Kris says as if he's still lost in thought.

"Getting caught."

Kris snorts. "I guess it depends on who catches us."

Adam laughs too and sits back, releasing Kris. "Well. In the spirit of not getting caught, maybe you ought to go to your own bed." It's the last thing he wants, but he's not about to push Kris and risk ruining this. Because no matter what happens, Adam's going to fuck him. In the instant that Kris touched his lips to Adam's in a less-than-platonic way, Adam's life goal went from 'record hit albums; become music legend' to 'fuck Kris Allen.'

Adam's pretty good at reaching his goals, and this one's within his grasp judging by the crestfallen look on Kris's face. "Hey," Adam says, putting his hand on Kris's thigh just because he can now. "You don't have to. I just... I know this is new for you. I don't want to freak you out."

Kris makes a noise that's equal parts exasperation and joy. "I've done all the freaking out I'm gonna do, okay? I did that part first. You... You're my best friend. You're the person I feel closest to in the world. I've been thinking about this for ages. Since... For a long time. But I wasn't going to mess with you like that. Tell you I wanted it if I wasn't sure, okay? So I got sure, and I sorted things out with Katy, and I jerked off every night for weeks pretending it was your hand on me, so I'm not going to freak out. Unless you kick me out of this bed."

Adam has to put a hand over his mouth to keep from whooping. Who the hell knew Kris had it in him? "Okay, no kicking you out. Ever again."

"Good. But you're going to have to tell me what to do because I'm not freaking out, but I sure as hell don't know what to do unless you tell me."

Adam has to work out a game plan in the span of a few seconds, but luckily he's a quick thinker. He puts his arms around Kris and draws him close. Getting his mouth close to Kris's ear, he turns on his sexiest voice and says, "You've been thinking about me jacking you off, have you? That seems like a good place to start. You don't need to know anything special to do that, do you? Just my hand... On your cock. Squeezing. Rubbing. Stroking. Is that what you like?"

Kris makes a small whimpery noise and presses closer. Adam takes a breath and puts his hand on Kris's crotch. He's hard as a rock, which is a relief, and when he arches into Adam's touch like a cat being petted, Adam knows that Kris has been telling the truth. He does want this. It's not that Adam is cool or sexy or someone Kris admires, although Adam hopes it's those things too, but he wants this. He wants Adam's hand on him, Adam's mouth on him.

It snaps Adam into motion, and he stops being so damn careful. This is another one of those things where he was minding his own business and now he's got his hand on someone's cock. If he had a dollar... But this is better and it's perfect because it's Kris.

He leans back, moving his hands to cup Kris's face, and he just looks for a long moment. Kris squirms. "What're you doing?"

Adam wants to say something lame and sappy and girly, but he's not that kind of guy – at least not during sex, so he presses forward and sucks Kris's lower lip into his mouth, running his tongue along the silky skin just inside Kris's mouth. Kris moans and Adam catches Kris's lip with his teeth, hissing out, "Shhhhh," reminding Kris that there are other people on the bus. People who probably suspect what's going on, especially if Kris left the curtains open on the bottom bunk so they can see it's empty. Adam doesn't mind an audience, but there's a time and a place for that.

"How am I supposed to be quiet when you're doing that?" Kris asks, his voice garbled as he still can't move his lip.

Adam releases him and says, "We're going to have problems then, because if you can't be quiet with my tongue in your mouth, how are you going to be quiet with my tongue in your ass?"

Kris hides his face in Adam's shoulder to stifle an even bigger moan. Adam smirks against Kris's hair and rubs his back, down low by the waistband of his jeans. "We'll work up to that, I promise."

While Kris is pondering that, Adam pushes him back against the bed and straddles his hips. Kris's eyes are wide and a little scared, but his breath is coming like a freight train and his erection is insistent against Adam's leg. He's so fucking beautiful that Adam wants to say a million things that would probably be weird at this juncture, so he files them away to say later in birthday cards, on Post-It notes he can stick on the bathroom mirror, or over candle-lit dinners.

Adam grins down at him, letting his best 'this is gonna be fun' grin spread over his features, and starts on the buttons of Kris's plaid shirt. He does them slowly and deliberately, touching each new inch of skin as it's revealed. Kris's eyes flutter shut and Adam smiles in triumph.

He leans down and mouths over Kris's collarbone. Kris's eyes fly open again when Adam scrapes over a nipple with his teeth. Adam smirks. "Please," Kris says, and Adam's not sure what he's asking for until Kris tugs at the hem of Adam's t-shirt. Adam pulls it over his head, trying not to think about how he's one big freckle or how he could stand to lose about five more pounds. It's hard, though, when Kris's body is so incredible.

Then Kris touches him and Adam forgets to compare, because the look on Kris's face says that he's not thinking about the ways that Adam's imperfect. He looks like he thinks Adam's the most amazing thing ever, and that's a little strange as they've seen each other in various states of undress hundreds of times. Though not while dry-humping, certainly.

Kris struggles to sit up a little and Adam scoots back so he can. Kris shrugs off his shirt the rest of the way and kisses Adam's shoulder. He looks at Adam for confirmation, as if he's not sure that's allowed. Adam drops his hands, giving Kris freedom to touch wherever, whatever he wants.

However, he regrets this almost instantly as what Kris seems to want to do is touch every inch of Adam with agonizing slowness and care, as if he's planning to draw him from memory later. He watches Kris's face, and he can almost see the thoughts there. He's thinking about girls, about Katy, about how this is different and how it's the same. Adam can tell, and he's torn between gratitude that he's managed to make Kris consider another path, and fear that Kris will say he can't do this and leave, because you don't try to turn straight guys – everyone knows that.

Kris looks at Adam's face, and their simpatico must go both ways because Kris reaches up and touches Adam's face. "Don't. Just... Don't. It's okay. It's good."

Adam smiles, relieved – and amused at Kris's ineloquence in the face of arousal – and takes back control. He nudges Kris to lie back down, and immediately grabs Kris's belt buckle. The clink is loud and final in the small, enclosed space, and Adam sees Kris's throat convulse as he swallows. "Okay?"

"Yes, yes. Stop asking me in case I get scared and say no." Kris says it with a teasing grin, but Adam's been there and he knows the truth behind the statement. And he respects it.

With deft motions, he undoes Kris's fly, opens his pants, and sits up enough that he can tug Kris's jeans and underwear halfway down his thighs. Then he wraps his hand around Kris's cock and squeezes. Kris whimpers a little and his eyes roll back in his head. Adam smirks. He takes advantage of Kris's incoherence to study him. His chest, his hipbones, his arms, his stomach, his thighs, his balls, his cock. He's so well put together, and Adam wants to lick every single inch of his body.

He doesn't think either or them can wait that long, though. Kris is skimming his hands up and down Adam's thighs, getting closer to his dick on each pass, and Adam hopes he works up his courage soon. He's trying hard not to be impatient, but finally having Kris like this, under him, half-naked and writhing, is so beyond a turn on that it deserves a new word. A turnfucksplosion.

Adam's tenuous control snaps and he lets go of Kris's erection, letting it fall damply against his belly. Then he attacks his own pants, rolling half on top of Kris in an effort to shimmy them off. He pushes Kris's down the rest of the way for good measure, and he can feel Kris kick them off his ankles.

There's no time for any more looking or touching or tenderness. They're both naked and beyond hard and sweating, and the only thing for it is for Adam to fall on top of Kris, wrap his hand around both of their cocks and try to find a rhythm without injuring either of them. Luckily this isn't Adam's first rodeo, so he's able to manage it. For his part, Kris just grips Adam's shoulders and says things like "Fuck," and "Yes," and "Adam," over and over again until they run together into words that aren't in any dictionary.

Adam comes first, probably because he's doing the stroking and he knows how to finish himself off, but Kris comes seconds later, pressing his mouth into Adam's neck to swallow his shout.

There isn't really enough room for two people to lie comfortably side-by-side, but Adam does his best to roll his weight off Kris so that they can catch their breath. Adam wipes his hand off on his t-shirt, using it to swipe ineffectually at the mess on their stomachs.

A few minutes pass and then Kris says, "Wow." It's such an understatement that Adam bursts into slightly hysterical laughter.

Kris joins him for a moment but then he says, "Did you think it would be like that? With... With me, I mean?"

Adam picks up Kris's hand and laces their fingers together, admiring the way his black nails look with Kris's bare ones, and then he tells the truth. "I didn't think about it. Not seriously, anyway."

"You're kidding! All this stuff we've been through and you never even thought about it?"

"I thought it was impossible! Do you think about what it would be like if you got launched into space? Probably not. Why? Because it's never going to happen. I would have driven myself crazy!"

"That's almost kind of insulting," Kris says, squeezing Adam's hand and Adam smiles at him.

"Well, I thought about stuff... Like, when I was getting off – alone – I'd sometimes think about you. But just like... Your arms. Or your ass."

"My ass?"

"You have a great ass. But it was just like, vague mental pictures. I didn't imagine kissing you or touching you, let alone you doing it back."

"You're such a gentleman," Kris says teasingly.

"What the fuck ever!" Adam sputters. "It wasn't because I'm not that kind of guy. Trust me – I'm that kind of guy. I would have made myself insane that way."

Kris lets go of Adam's hand and rolls over so he can look into Adam's eyes. "Well, you don't have to worry about that now."

"No. But I have about a million other things I have to worry about now, though. Mostly whether or not I'm going to open this curtain and find five very confused guys who want to know why they got a lecture earlier on how we were definitely not having sex."

Kris chuckles. "Don't be an idiot. They can't be on the other side of the curtain. We would have heard them by now. They're probably out on the couch wanting to know why they got a lecture earlier about how we weren't having sex."

"What are we going to say?" Adam asks, starting to seriously dread getting up.

Kris shrugs against Adam's shoulder. "We'll just tell them the truth."

Adam smiles. Kris is naïve and idealistic to the max if he thinks this isn't going to be the biggest thing to rock the country since... ever, but he wouldn't be Kris if he wasn't that way. "You're right, baby. We'll tell them the truth."

Kris puts his head on Adam's shoulder, and in his head, Adam adds, 'Eventually.'

Adam never loses his fascination with taking pictures of Kris. If anything, it gets far worse now that he knows he has permission. Most of the others don't tease him anymore, unfortunately because most of them are varying degrees of uncomfortable with the situation. Although Adam's pretty sure that it's mostly the secrecy doing them in, making them irritable.

They all deal with it in different ways. Michael ignores it and acts like nothing's changed. Matt makes increasingly inappropriate blowjob jokes. Allison goes online under fake names and drops hints – not that Adam can get her to admit to it, but he's ninety-five percent sure. Danny waffles between acting like he invented gay rights and acting like he really wants to talk to them both about God's plan. It's sort of funny, actually.

Or maybe that's just because Adam's so happy. He wouldn't have thought that a secret relationship with a formerly straight, formerly married man would be so fulfilling, but there you go. Adam's always been a little bit strange.

Adam's photography bug proves just the thing to ease their public transition from friends to lovers. The fans have always speculated, and, looking back, it's easy to see why – they've always hugged too much and too long, and it's rare to find a picture of the two of them where they aren't touching. So they just let the pictures speak for them.

The gossip gets wilder, their "tweets" to each other get bolder, the girls go crazier, and Perez Hilton shits a ring around himself at least once a week, and eventually, by the time Kris's divorce is final and the tour is over, the mainstream media starts to ask questions.

They get a lot of offers, Rolling Stone, Barbara Walters, People, but Kris, bless his heart, picks The Advocate proving once again why he ought to be the one with the 'civil rights leader' gig.

The day the magazine hits newsstands, Kris is in the studio. Adam sits at home alone, trying to decide what to do. Finally, he uploads a picture to his Twitter of Kris reclining on the bed they've been sharing for the last couple of months, holding the magazine over his chest. He breathes heavily as he types "Just my boyfriend sitting on our bed with a mag." As he clicks 'Update,' he feels more liberated than he's felt in months. This is a much bigger deal than his own 'coming out,' which shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone who wasn't a total idiot anyway.

He thinks about Katy, and how she's probably feeling. She's a sweet girl and she certainly didn't sign up for this. He thinks about the things he's heard and read that people have said about him. He's tried to avoid the worst of it, but he knows that a lot of people think he's everything bad they ever suspected and more. He thinks about the embarrassing fallout from the fangirls who already say things that make even his jaded ass blush.

But then he refreshes the page and sees a Tweet from Kris that reads, "@adamlambert thnkx. now i'm thinking about our bed. supposed to be concentrating! good thing i love u."

He'd started off totally innocent – well mostly – and through no fault of his own, he's now about to rock the world. Adam grins and holds onto the arms of the chair for support. It's going to be one hell of a ride.