samanthahirr (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
samanthahirr) wrote2011-02-20 12:02 am
samanthahirr) wrote2011-02-20 12:02 am
Entry tags:
Fic: A $500 Bottle of Bordeaux 2/2
Title: A $500 Bottle of Bordeaux
Fandom: American Idol S8
Pairing: Kris Allen/Adam Lambert
Summary: Romance, revenge, and the dinner party from hell. A Broadway AU.
Back to Part 1
"That was seriously amazing," Adam said, folding his napkin next to his plate.
Kris nodded. "I know, right? I think I'm in love with David's chef; that marinade was incredible."
"Yeah, but you seared it. Perfectly," Adam purred, leaning closer to Kris. His thigh brushed Kris's, and he propped an elbow next to Kris's plate and asked, "Who taught you how to cook?"
"My grandma. My brother and I spent summers at her house learning our way around a kitchen."
"Where're you from?"
"Arkansas. But I moved here a good…four years ago."
"You still have the accent."
Kris blushed and took a hasty sip of his wine. "You can take the boy outta the country…."
"No, I love it," Adam reassured him. "I have a thing for cute Southern boys. More of a moral weakness, actually."
Adam had mentioned Kris being his type. Kris's heart was pounding when he repeated, "A moral weakness?"
"Yeah. Every time I meet one, I have sinful thoughts."
Kris licked his lips and flicked his eyes across the table. If Adam's flirting was meant to taunt David with how well Adam's evening was turning out, Adam had missed the boat. David and Ivan had been pleasant and charming throughout dinner—when they weren't playing footsie under the table—but once Adam started paying all his attention to Kris, David and his boyfriend had gotten lost in each other, as though they were the only two in the room.
Kris let them be and enjoyed Adam's attention for as long as he had it. "Sounds like a serious problem," he teased.
Adam leaned even closer and whispered in his ear, "Only when they ignore me."
"Who could possibly ignore you?" he asked, genuinely surprised. Maybe in a room full of Ivans, Kris could see someone foolishly overlooking Adam's piercing blue eyes and high cheekbones, the freckles on his lips….
Adam smiled indulgently, and Kris realized with a start that he'd been staring again.
"Sorry," he murmured.
"Baby, don't even," Adam said. "You've got me thinking about getting my dessert boxed and taking it home with me."
Kris snorted at the image of himself sitting in a little white box. "That's a terrible line. Do you use that on all the guys who cook for you?"
Adam pulled back a few inches and picked up his wine glass. "Just you. Is it working?" he asked, spinning the wineglass slowly, flashes of light reflecting hypnotically off the crystal.
"Well," David interrupted, freeing Kris from Adam's spell. "It's been lovely having you over. Kris, thank you so much for cooking…." David stood and picked up his and Ivan's plates.
"Oh, you know what would be perfect right now?" Adam asked. "Coffee."
"Coffee," David repeated incredulously.
"Yeah. Kris, what do you think?"
Kris wanted to play along; he wanted to help Adam exact as much revenge as possible, but it was nearly 3 a.m. already, and there was zero possibility of cancelling tomorrow's sessions. "It's a little late for coffee…."
"Oh thank god," Ivan muttered, and Kris's conscience poked him in the ribs, hard. It wasn't Ivan's fault David had been an asshole to them, after all.
"Then how about a nightcap," Adam said smoothly. "Amaretto?"
"Of course," David sighed, resigned to continue hosting his guests. He reached for their plates to add to his stack. "Would anyone else like a drink?"
"Sure," Kris said, because Adam was looking at Kris hopefully, and Kris was quickly discovering he had absolutely no resistance to Adam's charms.
"Two nightcaps coming right up," David grumbled and headed into the kitchen.
Ivan watched his boyfriend's departure, then turned back to face them once the door to the kitchen had closed. "Hey, guys. I'm sorry about, um…tonight."
"Oh, you don't have to," Kris said, feeling a pang of sympathy for the tension around Ivan's eyes. "Just…is he okay? It's been months since I…. I mean, how's he been since the recording?"
Ivan hesitated, as though considering whether or not to answer Kris's question. He finally sighed and slumped back in his chair, looking exhausted. "He's fine—great, really. He just— Nobody's life is all roses."
Adam snorted softly, and Kris elbowed Adam's arm off the table before asking, "Does he do this a lot?"
Ivan shook his head, "Just…now and then? I try to be patient; I know he's trying. I just wish he'd find a better way to tell me when he's unhappy."
They'd looked so good together during dinner—relaxed, romantic, and happy. If Kris hadn't experienced David's manipulations firsthand, he never would've believed their relationship was so rocky.
"I'm glad tonight didn't end like last time," Ivan smiled at Kris.
"You mean with me shouting and storming out of a classy restaurant?"
"Yeah. Sorry about blowing up at you like that. That was the first time David pulled this kind of thing, and I…didn't really handle it well."
Kris reached across the table, and Ivan shook his hand gratefully. "No problem. And uh, good luck."
"Good luck to you, too," Ivan said, his eyes flicking toward Adam for a moment. "It looks like the night wasn't all bad for you guys, huh?"
Kris was glad they'd been convincing enough for David and Ivan. Lord knows, he'd almost convinced himself. He ducked his head and felt himself blushing. "It was worth it to meet this guy," he agreed.
Adam reached over and squeezed Kris's hand on the tabletop.
Kris reveled in the touch for a moment before he pulled his hand away and picked up his wineglass.
"I can't believe you guys opened the Bordeaux," Ivan suddenly laughed.
Adam grinned, "Oh come on, he so deserved that."
"I'm not denying it," Ivan said, "but that look on his face…."
The way David had blanched when Adam brought out the bottle to refill his and Kris's glasses had been priceless. Kris contemplated the last few drops of $500 Bordeaux in his wineglass and then tilted the glass up and chased the drops around the rim with his fingertip so he could lick them off his skin.
"Okay," David said as he emerged from the kitchen, "nightcaps." He set down a tray bearing a bottle and four tumblers already filled with ice, uncapped the amaretto, and started pouring.
"One for you," he thumped the first glass down in front of Adam brusquely. "One for you," he repeated, placing the second a little more gently in front of Kris, as though he'd figured out that Adam was the evening's instigator. "Babe?" he asked his boyfriend.
Ivan shook his head. "I'm gonna have a smoke." He stood up and turned toward the balcony, his hand sliding up David's arm and squeezing for a meaningful moment as he went.
David hurriedly put the bottle down, the last two glasses left unfilled. "I could use some fresh air," he announced and followed Ivan out to the balcony.
"You must be some kind of saint," Adam said into his drink as the men left the apartment.
"What do you mean?" Kris picked up his own tumbler and swirled the amber liquid around, clinking the ice.
"You've already forgiven him, haven't you?"
Kris considered that for a moment, looking for any remaining bitterness in his heart, but most of his anger had burned out watching how much David obviously cared for his boyfriend. "Not quite," he admitted. "But Ivan seems like a decent guy, so David can't be all bad." He set his glass down and took a deep breath. "I'm kind of done for the night. With the revenge thing. I…hope you're not pissed."
"Nah," Adam said, and when Kris chanced a look at him, he was smiling. "I'll just bribe the makeup team to give him a Hitler 'stache for his next performance and call us square."
Kris snorted. "All's fair in love and musicals, huh?"
"Whatever it takes to settle the score." Adam grinned at his own pun for a moment. "But don't worry about it, you've already done plenty. And listen, thanks for being a fan." He reached out and caught Kris's hand again. "It means a lot to me, and I really appreciate it. I don't think I remembered to say that before."
Adam was smiling so sincerely that Kris's heart broke just the tiniest bit to be downgraded from partner-in-crime to just-another-fan.
He made himself shrug and pushed his glass away a little too quickly, some of the liquor sloshing over the rim. "Thank you for uh…having a voice like you do," Kris said stupidly. He wiped his hand on the tablecloth, smelling the sweet scent of almonds from the amaretto.
"I owe everything to my vocal coaches," Adam shrugged, quoting his multitude of press clippings without batting an eye, like a song he knew by heart.
And that—that was what Kris had expected from this evening: smooth politeness, not the flirting and camaraderie he and Adam had shared for the last couple of hours. Kris felt himself flushing at the liberties he'd taken—with Adam Lambert of all people, the handsome, sublime tenor he'd worshiped from afar for the last eight months, like so many other people.
How many times a week did Adam's young, male fans throw themselves at him? How many times a night? Kris would bet a large sum of money he wasn't even the first tonight.
Adam blinked down at him and said, "You okay?"
Kris couldn't guess what Adam had seen on his face, so he just faked a yawn and shook his head. "I'm beat. And I have to work tomorrow, so—" It turned into a real yawn, Kris's eyes watering unexpectedly.
Adam nodded, "Yeah, you're right; it's time to call it a night." He stood up and stepped behind Kris, pulling his chair out for him. "Let's bid adieu to our hosts."
Kris smiled his thanks and followed Adam's prompt to approach the balcony.
The glass door slid open before Kris had gotten near it, and David peeked his head in. "You guys need something?"
"Yeah," Kris said, determined to end the evening on a positive note, despite the inappropriate disappointment burning in his stomach. "We're heading out now. I wanted to…."
David's face lit up, and he pushed the door all the way open, tugging Ivan inside after him. Ivan tossed his cigarette over the railing behind him and walked in still exhaling smoke, but he was smiling, too.
Kris started over, holding out his hand. "I wanted to thank you for inviting me. It was a lovely evening, really."
David shook his hand enthusiastically and pulled him closer to say, "I hope we can work together again, some time."
That sounded as close to an apology as Kris had ever heard from David, but close didn't quite cut it for him. "You win a Grammy, and I'll consider it," he said, no coyness in his words.
David laughed obliviously and pushed him toward Ivan.
Kris shook Ivan's perfectly manicured hand. "I hope everything works out for you, man," he smiled.
Ivan pulled him into an impromptu hug and thumped his shoulder. "I hope everything works out for you." His eyebrows popped suggestively, and Kris released his hand and stepped back.
"Yeah, thanks. Well," Kris looked to Adam, who had stepped around him to get to David. "I guess I'll…."
Adam leaned down, David tilted his head up, and they kissed each other's cheeks, standing close together and smiling huge, insincere smiles. Adam murmured something that caused David to throw his head back and laugh.
Ivan snickered and wrapped an arm around David's waist, saying, "You should hear him go off about Lester's conducting."
Kris retreated to the foyer, reminding himself to be happy that Adam and David could still act civil toward one another, and that he should be proud to have played a small part in making that possible. He slid his shoes on, pulled his jacket and umbrella off the coat rack, and then paused, hand on the doorknob. The three of them were still laughing. He caught the sounds of more cheek-kisses, and decided Adam wasn't expecting Kris to wait for him. They'd agreed to leave, not leave together.
Besides, what would Kris say to Adam now?
He turned the knob and let the door swing shut behind him, determined to remember only the good parts of the evening—the great parts; the Adam parts.
The building's elevator chimed its arrival just as a voice yelled, "Kris, wait," and Adam hopped gracelessly out of David's doorway at the far end of the hall, one boot half-on, the other clutched in his hand.
Kris gaped at the sight and forgot to step into the elevator when the doors opened behind him.
Adam pulled the boot off and jogged down the hall to meet him, smiling so brightly Kris felt embarrassed to look at him, afraid his own hopes would show too clearly on his face.
"Hey," Adam said, leaning against the wall. "Thanks for waiting."
"Sure," Kris said, and looked at Adam's socks.
"Give me a sec, okay?" Adam asked, and bent down to work a foot into his right boot.
After watching him struggle for a few seconds, Kris asked, "Do you need a hand?"
"No, I've almost got it. These are the tightest fuckers…there."
"Congratulations," Kris teased. "Now let's see if you can make a matching set."
Adam snorted, his eyes hidden under his bangs as he yanked and stomped his way into the other boot. When he stood up, he balanced himself with a hand on Kris's shoulder.
"So…." Kris didn't know what to say next, so he just stared up at Adam.
"Is that elevator still here?" Adam asked, his eyes not leaving Kris's.
"Um. Oh," Kris groped for the button, and his heart gave a little answering thrill of optimism when the elevator dinged and the doors slid open again. "Yeah."
Adam took Kris's elbow and escorted him into the elevator, pushing the ground floor button before releasing him. Adam pushed his bangs away from his face and opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out for a few seconds.
"So, it was nice meeting you," Kris said desperately, trying to rein in his hope at the way Adam had run after him.
"Yeah," Adam agreed and then stepped into Kris's space. "Kris—" his blue eyes checked the digital floor display, beeping as it counted down swiftly from eight, before he said, "Listen. Tonight should've sucked. It should've been, like, the worst night of my life. But it wasn't. Because you were there, and it turns out you're kind of amazing. And I don't want this to be the last time I see you."
The floor suddenly dropped out from under Kris, and he was floating, completely weightless. "O-oh," he stammered.
"I could get your phone number from David, or even your studio, but I'd kinda like to take you out for a real dinner, someplace more inviting than here. So I was hoping you'd give me your number yourself, and let me call you sometime."
Two floors beeped past, and Kris feared for a frozen second that he'd lost the ability to speak. The words surprised him when they finally came: "I'd love to."
Adam smiled, and then the bell chimed, and the doors slid open.
Kris drifted out into the small lobby, still floating a few inches above the floor, with Adam following, digging in his back pocket for something.
"Okay, shoot," Adam said, producing his phone from his pocket.
Kris leaned over Adam's arm to watch him program the number in, correcting his spelling when he started Kris's name with a 'Ch.'
"Kris Allen from Arkansas," Adam drawled, his head bent close to Kris's ear. "You're full of surprises."
Suddenly giddy, Kris took a few steps back and leaned against the heavy exterior door, popping the lock and letting in a draft of humid air. "Looks like the rain's starting." He edged the door open, stuck his right arm out and carefully opened his umbrella before stepping outside. He held the umbrella high, in case Adam wanted to share, but Adam just popped the collar of his jacket up against the drizzle and stepped out into the warm, July night.
The street was deserted, and most of the buildings were dark. The streetlights were ringed in halos, light reflecting off the misting drops, and it was so peaceful in the middle of Manhattan, this one moment with just the two of them standing alone on Seventh Avenue.
"Where're you headed? I don't suppose you need a ride?" Adam asked softly, and Kris thought he heard a different offer in the words, something Kris wanted, too.
But he shook his head and pointed down the street. "Brooklyn. I'm parked right over there."
"I'm heading uptown," Adam said, sounding disappointed.
Kris nodded, reluctant to start moving.
"I guess this is where we say goodnight," Adam finally said.
"I guess," Kris agreed.
And then his eyes widened as Adam ducked under the umbrella to kiss him.
If he'd had a second to think, he might have realized Adam meant to kiss his cheek, like the goodbyes he'd given David and Ivan just a few minutes ago. But all Kris could think was yes, yes, and he turned his head to catch Adam's mouth with his own.
Their lips brushed and pressed, and Adam murmured something against his mouth and brought a hand up to Kris's chin, wet fingers tipping Kris's face up as Adam's mouth opened to capture his lower lip. Kris's lips parted with a sigh, and he kissed Adam back, his body leaning forward to get as close as he could, still instinctively trying to hold onto the moment like it was his last chance.
Only it wasn't.
"You're gonna call me tomorrow?" Kris asked, breathless, blinking his eyes open to see Adam smiling down at him.
"It's already tomorrow," Adam said, and brushed his lips across Kris's cheek. "I'm calling you today."
"Not before 5," Kris warned, and leaned up to kiss him again, his tongue tracing Adam's lower lip and then dipping inside when Adam opened for him.
Adam groaned and ran his fingers through the short hairs at the nape of Kris's neck, making him shiver. "That's only, like, fourteen hours. I can wait that long." Adam pressed another kiss, and then another, to Kris's mouth, tugging gently at his hair.
"Good," Kris sighed happily. "I should get going. It's a long drive."
"Okay." Adam kissed him one last time before his hands fell away, his smile tinged with regret. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," Kris whispered, looking his fill of Adam before making himself walk away. He glanced back a few steps later to check on Adam, who waved as he walked backward down the sidewalk. Kris grinned and bit his lip, tasting Adam again.
He climbed in his car and turned the key in the ignition, and the motor rumbled to life under him. He closed his eyes for a moment, reliving that kiss goodnight and the thrill of all the possibilities for tomorrow, before he smiled and pulled out of the parking spot and started the long drive home.
fin
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Fandom: American Idol S8
Pairing: Kris Allen/Adam Lambert
Summary: Romance, revenge, and the dinner party from hell. A Broadway AU.
Back to Part 1
"That was seriously amazing," Adam said, folding his napkin next to his plate.
Kris nodded. "I know, right? I think I'm in love with David's chef; that marinade was incredible."
"Yeah, but you seared it. Perfectly," Adam purred, leaning closer to Kris. His thigh brushed Kris's, and he propped an elbow next to Kris's plate and asked, "Who taught you how to cook?"
"My grandma. My brother and I spent summers at her house learning our way around a kitchen."
"Where're you from?"
"Arkansas. But I moved here a good…four years ago."
"You still have the accent."
Kris blushed and took a hasty sip of his wine. "You can take the boy outta the country…."
"No, I love it," Adam reassured him. "I have a thing for cute Southern boys. More of a moral weakness, actually."
Adam had mentioned Kris being his type. Kris's heart was pounding when he repeated, "A moral weakness?"
"Yeah. Every time I meet one, I have sinful thoughts."
Kris licked his lips and flicked his eyes across the table. If Adam's flirting was meant to taunt David with how well Adam's evening was turning out, Adam had missed the boat. David and Ivan had been pleasant and charming throughout dinner—when they weren't playing footsie under the table—but once Adam started paying all his attention to Kris, David and his boyfriend had gotten lost in each other, as though they were the only two in the room.
Kris let them be and enjoyed Adam's attention for as long as he had it. "Sounds like a serious problem," he teased.
Adam leaned even closer and whispered in his ear, "Only when they ignore me."
"Who could possibly ignore you?" he asked, genuinely surprised. Maybe in a room full of Ivans, Kris could see someone foolishly overlooking Adam's piercing blue eyes and high cheekbones, the freckles on his lips….
Adam smiled indulgently, and Kris realized with a start that he'd been staring again.
"Sorry," he murmured.
"Baby, don't even," Adam said. "You've got me thinking about getting my dessert boxed and taking it home with me."
Kris snorted at the image of himself sitting in a little white box. "That's a terrible line. Do you use that on all the guys who cook for you?"
Adam pulled back a few inches and picked up his wine glass. "Just you. Is it working?" he asked, spinning the wineglass slowly, flashes of light reflecting hypnotically off the crystal.
"Well," David interrupted, freeing Kris from Adam's spell. "It's been lovely having you over. Kris, thank you so much for cooking…." David stood and picked up his and Ivan's plates.
"Oh, you know what would be perfect right now?" Adam asked. "Coffee."
"Coffee," David repeated incredulously.
"Yeah. Kris, what do you think?"
Kris wanted to play along; he wanted to help Adam exact as much revenge as possible, but it was nearly 3 a.m. already, and there was zero possibility of cancelling tomorrow's sessions. "It's a little late for coffee…."
"Oh thank god," Ivan muttered, and Kris's conscience poked him in the ribs, hard. It wasn't Ivan's fault David had been an asshole to them, after all.
"Then how about a nightcap," Adam said smoothly. "Amaretto?"
"Of course," David sighed, resigned to continue hosting his guests. He reached for their plates to add to his stack. "Would anyone else like a drink?"
"Sure," Kris said, because Adam was looking at Kris hopefully, and Kris was quickly discovering he had absolutely no resistance to Adam's charms.
"Two nightcaps coming right up," David grumbled and headed into the kitchen.
Ivan watched his boyfriend's departure, then turned back to face them once the door to the kitchen had closed. "Hey, guys. I'm sorry about, um…tonight."
"Oh, you don't have to," Kris said, feeling a pang of sympathy for the tension around Ivan's eyes. "Just…is he okay? It's been months since I…. I mean, how's he been since the recording?"
Ivan hesitated, as though considering whether or not to answer Kris's question. He finally sighed and slumped back in his chair, looking exhausted. "He's fine—great, really. He just— Nobody's life is all roses."
Adam snorted softly, and Kris elbowed Adam's arm off the table before asking, "Does he do this a lot?"
Ivan shook his head, "Just…now and then? I try to be patient; I know he's trying. I just wish he'd find a better way to tell me when he's unhappy."
They'd looked so good together during dinner—relaxed, romantic, and happy. If Kris hadn't experienced David's manipulations firsthand, he never would've believed their relationship was so rocky.
"I'm glad tonight didn't end like last time," Ivan smiled at Kris.
"You mean with me shouting and storming out of a classy restaurant?"
"Yeah. Sorry about blowing up at you like that. That was the first time David pulled this kind of thing, and I…didn't really handle it well."
Kris reached across the table, and Ivan shook his hand gratefully. "No problem. And uh, good luck."
"Good luck to you, too," Ivan said, his eyes flicking toward Adam for a moment. "It looks like the night wasn't all bad for you guys, huh?"
Kris was glad they'd been convincing enough for David and Ivan. Lord knows, he'd almost convinced himself. He ducked his head and felt himself blushing. "It was worth it to meet this guy," he agreed.
Adam reached over and squeezed Kris's hand on the tabletop.
Kris reveled in the touch for a moment before he pulled his hand away and picked up his wineglass.
"I can't believe you guys opened the Bordeaux," Ivan suddenly laughed.
Adam grinned, "Oh come on, he so deserved that."
"I'm not denying it," Ivan said, "but that look on his face…."
The way David had blanched when Adam brought out the bottle to refill his and Kris's glasses had been priceless. Kris contemplated the last few drops of $500 Bordeaux in his wineglass and then tilted the glass up and chased the drops around the rim with his fingertip so he could lick them off his skin.
"Okay," David said as he emerged from the kitchen, "nightcaps." He set down a tray bearing a bottle and four tumblers already filled with ice, uncapped the amaretto, and started pouring.
"One for you," he thumped the first glass down in front of Adam brusquely. "One for you," he repeated, placing the second a little more gently in front of Kris, as though he'd figured out that Adam was the evening's instigator. "Babe?" he asked his boyfriend.
Ivan shook his head. "I'm gonna have a smoke." He stood up and turned toward the balcony, his hand sliding up David's arm and squeezing for a meaningful moment as he went.
David hurriedly put the bottle down, the last two glasses left unfilled. "I could use some fresh air," he announced and followed Ivan out to the balcony.
"You must be some kind of saint," Adam said into his drink as the men left the apartment.
"What do you mean?" Kris picked up his own tumbler and swirled the amber liquid around, clinking the ice.
"You've already forgiven him, haven't you?"
Kris considered that for a moment, looking for any remaining bitterness in his heart, but most of his anger had burned out watching how much David obviously cared for his boyfriend. "Not quite," he admitted. "But Ivan seems like a decent guy, so David can't be all bad." He set his glass down and took a deep breath. "I'm kind of done for the night. With the revenge thing. I…hope you're not pissed."
"Nah," Adam said, and when Kris chanced a look at him, he was smiling. "I'll just bribe the makeup team to give him a Hitler 'stache for his next performance and call us square."
Kris snorted. "All's fair in love and musicals, huh?"
"Whatever it takes to settle the score." Adam grinned at his own pun for a moment. "But don't worry about it, you've already done plenty. And listen, thanks for being a fan." He reached out and caught Kris's hand again. "It means a lot to me, and I really appreciate it. I don't think I remembered to say that before."
Adam was smiling so sincerely that Kris's heart broke just the tiniest bit to be downgraded from partner-in-crime to just-another-fan.
He made himself shrug and pushed his glass away a little too quickly, some of the liquor sloshing over the rim. "Thank you for uh…having a voice like you do," Kris said stupidly. He wiped his hand on the tablecloth, smelling the sweet scent of almonds from the amaretto.
"I owe everything to my vocal coaches," Adam shrugged, quoting his multitude of press clippings without batting an eye, like a song he knew by heart.
And that—that was what Kris had expected from this evening: smooth politeness, not the flirting and camaraderie he and Adam had shared for the last couple of hours. Kris felt himself flushing at the liberties he'd taken—with Adam Lambert of all people, the handsome, sublime tenor he'd worshiped from afar for the last eight months, like so many other people.
How many times a week did Adam's young, male fans throw themselves at him? How many times a night? Kris would bet a large sum of money he wasn't even the first tonight.
Adam blinked down at him and said, "You okay?"
Kris couldn't guess what Adam had seen on his face, so he just faked a yawn and shook his head. "I'm beat. And I have to work tomorrow, so—" It turned into a real yawn, Kris's eyes watering unexpectedly.
Adam nodded, "Yeah, you're right; it's time to call it a night." He stood up and stepped behind Kris, pulling his chair out for him. "Let's bid adieu to our hosts."
Kris smiled his thanks and followed Adam's prompt to approach the balcony.
The glass door slid open before Kris had gotten near it, and David peeked his head in. "You guys need something?"
"Yeah," Kris said, determined to end the evening on a positive note, despite the inappropriate disappointment burning in his stomach. "We're heading out now. I wanted to…."
David's face lit up, and he pushed the door all the way open, tugging Ivan inside after him. Ivan tossed his cigarette over the railing behind him and walked in still exhaling smoke, but he was smiling, too.
Kris started over, holding out his hand. "I wanted to thank you for inviting me. It was a lovely evening, really."
David shook his hand enthusiastically and pulled him closer to say, "I hope we can work together again, some time."
That sounded as close to an apology as Kris had ever heard from David, but close didn't quite cut it for him. "You win a Grammy, and I'll consider it," he said, no coyness in his words.
David laughed obliviously and pushed him toward Ivan.
Kris shook Ivan's perfectly manicured hand. "I hope everything works out for you, man," he smiled.
Ivan pulled him into an impromptu hug and thumped his shoulder. "I hope everything works out for you." His eyebrows popped suggestively, and Kris released his hand and stepped back.
"Yeah, thanks. Well," Kris looked to Adam, who had stepped around him to get to David. "I guess I'll…."
Adam leaned down, David tilted his head up, and they kissed each other's cheeks, standing close together and smiling huge, insincere smiles. Adam murmured something that caused David to throw his head back and laugh.
Ivan snickered and wrapped an arm around David's waist, saying, "You should hear him go off about Lester's conducting."
Kris retreated to the foyer, reminding himself to be happy that Adam and David could still act civil toward one another, and that he should be proud to have played a small part in making that possible. He slid his shoes on, pulled his jacket and umbrella off the coat rack, and then paused, hand on the doorknob. The three of them were still laughing. He caught the sounds of more cheek-kisses, and decided Adam wasn't expecting Kris to wait for him. They'd agreed to leave, not leave together.
Besides, what would Kris say to Adam now?
He turned the knob and let the door swing shut behind him, determined to remember only the good parts of the evening—the great parts; the Adam parts.
The building's elevator chimed its arrival just as a voice yelled, "Kris, wait," and Adam hopped gracelessly out of David's doorway at the far end of the hall, one boot half-on, the other clutched in his hand.
Kris gaped at the sight and forgot to step into the elevator when the doors opened behind him.
Adam pulled the boot off and jogged down the hall to meet him, smiling so brightly Kris felt embarrassed to look at him, afraid his own hopes would show too clearly on his face.
"Hey," Adam said, leaning against the wall. "Thanks for waiting."
"Sure," Kris said, and looked at Adam's socks.
"Give me a sec, okay?" Adam asked, and bent down to work a foot into his right boot.
After watching him struggle for a few seconds, Kris asked, "Do you need a hand?"
"No, I've almost got it. These are the tightest fuckers…there."
"Congratulations," Kris teased. "Now let's see if you can make a matching set."
Adam snorted, his eyes hidden under his bangs as he yanked and stomped his way into the other boot. When he stood up, he balanced himself with a hand on Kris's shoulder.
"So…." Kris didn't know what to say next, so he just stared up at Adam.
"Is that elevator still here?" Adam asked, his eyes not leaving Kris's.
"Um. Oh," Kris groped for the button, and his heart gave a little answering thrill of optimism when the elevator dinged and the doors slid open again. "Yeah."
Adam took Kris's elbow and escorted him into the elevator, pushing the ground floor button before releasing him. Adam pushed his bangs away from his face and opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out for a few seconds.
"So, it was nice meeting you," Kris said desperately, trying to rein in his hope at the way Adam had run after him.
"Yeah," Adam agreed and then stepped into Kris's space. "Kris—" his blue eyes checked the digital floor display, beeping as it counted down swiftly from eight, before he said, "Listen. Tonight should've sucked. It should've been, like, the worst night of my life. But it wasn't. Because you were there, and it turns out you're kind of amazing. And I don't want this to be the last time I see you."
The floor suddenly dropped out from under Kris, and he was floating, completely weightless. "O-oh," he stammered.
"I could get your phone number from David, or even your studio, but I'd kinda like to take you out for a real dinner, someplace more inviting than here. So I was hoping you'd give me your number yourself, and let me call you sometime."
Two floors beeped past, and Kris feared for a frozen second that he'd lost the ability to speak. The words surprised him when they finally came: "I'd love to."
Adam smiled, and then the bell chimed, and the doors slid open.
Kris drifted out into the small lobby, still floating a few inches above the floor, with Adam following, digging in his back pocket for something.
"Okay, shoot," Adam said, producing his phone from his pocket.
Kris leaned over Adam's arm to watch him program the number in, correcting his spelling when he started Kris's name with a 'Ch.'
"Kris Allen from Arkansas," Adam drawled, his head bent close to Kris's ear. "You're full of surprises."
Suddenly giddy, Kris took a few steps back and leaned against the heavy exterior door, popping the lock and letting in a draft of humid air. "Looks like the rain's starting." He edged the door open, stuck his right arm out and carefully opened his umbrella before stepping outside. He held the umbrella high, in case Adam wanted to share, but Adam just popped the collar of his jacket up against the drizzle and stepped out into the warm, July night.
The street was deserted, and most of the buildings were dark. The streetlights were ringed in halos, light reflecting off the misting drops, and it was so peaceful in the middle of Manhattan, this one moment with just the two of them standing alone on Seventh Avenue.
"Where're you headed? I don't suppose you need a ride?" Adam asked softly, and Kris thought he heard a different offer in the words, something Kris wanted, too.
But he shook his head and pointed down the street. "Brooklyn. I'm parked right over there."
"I'm heading uptown," Adam said, sounding disappointed.
Kris nodded, reluctant to start moving.
"I guess this is where we say goodnight," Adam finally said.
"I guess," Kris agreed.
And then his eyes widened as Adam ducked under the umbrella to kiss him.
If he'd had a second to think, he might have realized Adam meant to kiss his cheek, like the goodbyes he'd given David and Ivan just a few minutes ago. But all Kris could think was yes, yes, and he turned his head to catch Adam's mouth with his own.
Their lips brushed and pressed, and Adam murmured something against his mouth and brought a hand up to Kris's chin, wet fingers tipping Kris's face up as Adam's mouth opened to capture his lower lip. Kris's lips parted with a sigh, and he kissed Adam back, his body leaning forward to get as close as he could, still instinctively trying to hold onto the moment like it was his last chance.
Only it wasn't.
"You're gonna call me tomorrow?" Kris asked, breathless, blinking his eyes open to see Adam smiling down at him.
"It's already tomorrow," Adam said, and brushed his lips across Kris's cheek. "I'm calling you today."
"Not before 5," Kris warned, and leaned up to kiss him again, his tongue tracing Adam's lower lip and then dipping inside when Adam opened for him.
Adam groaned and ran his fingers through the short hairs at the nape of Kris's neck, making him shiver. "That's only, like, fourteen hours. I can wait that long." Adam pressed another kiss, and then another, to Kris's mouth, tugging gently at his hair.
"Good," Kris sighed happily. "I should get going. It's a long drive."
"Okay." Adam kissed him one last time before his hands fell away, his smile tinged with regret. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," Kris whispered, looking his fill of Adam before making himself walk away. He glanced back a few steps later to check on Adam, who waved as he walked backward down the sidewalk. Kris grinned and bit his lip, tasting Adam again.
He climbed in his car and turned the key in the ignition, and the motor rumbled to life under him. He closed his eyes for a moment, reliving that kiss goodnight and the thrill of all the possibilities for tomorrow, before he smiled and pulled out of the parking spot and started the long drive home.
fin
Note: Share the love with my amazing artist
katekat1010 over at the Art Master Post and check out even more art pieces she made for this fic not included here.![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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