Kradam Fluff.....
Jul. 2nd, 2009 03:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
writefictionTitle / Chapter: Fight or Flight (01/?)
Author: amanda: jaclyn’s twin sister
Pairing: Kradam
Rating: G - for general fluffiness
P.O.V.: First person, Kris Allen
Notes: written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
all_unwritten writing prompt #234: I can’t be trusted.
Other Notes: To make life less complicated there is no Katy.
Summary: When it comes to Adam Lambert, I can’t be trusted.
Prompt #234: I can’t be trusted…
When it comes to Adam Lambert, I can’t be trusted; not with my words, my actions or my hormones. And for that reason I make sure never to be alone with him. There always has to be at least one other person in the room with us at all times. But I’m not sure that plan is going to work anymore, it’s becoming too obvious. Especially at this exact moment.
* * * * *
“Hope everyone’s on board because it’s time to dig out!”
The driver’s voice interrupts my nap. I groan and stick my head under my pillow. I don’t even know where we are at this point. Have we even left the venue yet? What day is it? How long have I been asleep? With these questions swirling around my brain, I roll out of my designated bunk and stretch. My joints pop and I can’t help thinking I’m too young to be feeling this old. I never knew touring could take so much out of you. I hear movement coming from the back of the bus and decide to see what’s going on.
I shuffle down the hall to the lounge but stop dead when I see Adam sprawled out on the couch alone. Hoping he’s too engrossed in his book to notice me, I quickly turn on my heel. But the sound of his voice stops me from even taking one step.
“Kristopher.”
I curse under my breath and slowly turn around. “Kristopher? Wow, what’d I do now?” I joke trying to conjure up a playful smile.
Adam saves his place in the worn paperback by folding down one of the corners. Then he sits up, swinging his long legs over the side of the couch, and looks at me. It’s not a good look.
I scratch the back of my neck nervously. “So…when’d Allison leave?” I ask conversationally. Really I just want to turn and run, but my roommate’s piercing blue eyes have me glued in place.
Adam gestures to the couch across from him. “Can we talk?”
“Sure, what about?” I ask, moving to sit down on the offered piece of furniture.
“Why you’ve been avoiding me,” Adam answers, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes narrowed.
I rub the back of my neck again - nervous habit.
“I-I haven’t been avoiding you,” I stutter.
Adam snorts. “Yeah, that’s why you keep rubbing your neck.” He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “I know you, Kris, I know when you’re uncomfortable. What’s up, dude?”
“I, um…” My eyes flit around the little lounge, hoping the answer is written on the wall somewhere. When I’m finally convinced it’s not there, I lick my lips and let my eyes move back to my bus-mate.
He’s looking at me intensely and I can see the hurt in his baby blues. If you didn’t know him personally, you’d never know it was there. But after living with him for so long it’s completely obvious to me. His eyes scream the profanity he isn’t willing to hurt me with out loud. But whether he speaks the words or sends them out psychically, I can still hear them.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. Adam’s face falls, my words confirming his fears.
“Why?” he asks. I look down at my hands and shrug.
“I can’t be trusted around you,” I tell him softly.
“What does that mean?”
“It means…” I look around the room again for that damn writing on the wall.
Once again, I can’t find it and my eyes travel back to Adam. His expression is hard. I know he’s bracing himself for something horrendous. So I sit forward on the couch and reach out to cup the side of his face in my hand. I stroke my thumb back and forth lightly against his cheek.
“It means something like this,” I murmur and lean in, pressing my lips to his. I close my eyes, just letting my lips do what comes naturally.
Adam’s lips are so soft; exactly how they look, but nothing like I could imagine. They move so gently against mine, almost hesitantly like it’s his first time kissing a guy and not mine. After a moment I slowly, and reluctantly, pull away.
I blink slowly to find Adam’s eyes are still closed. “Adam?” I ask. He holds up his hand to silence me. I wait for him to say something or open his eyes, but he doesn’t. So I say his name again. He shakes his head, furrowing his eyebrows. After another moment, I say his name a third time.
His eyes roll beneath his make-up free eyelids. “God, Allen, can’t you give a guy time to reflect?” I bite my lip trying to keep silent. A heart-beat later his blue eyes flutter open. He reaches up and slides his hand through my hair. I can’t help leaning into the touch.
“What do you want to do?” I ask quietly.
“Fight or flight, Allen, it’s up to you,” he tells me.
“Fight,” I whisper.
Adam searches my eyes for a moment, then leans in close. But before our lips can touch, he stops. “You can still run,” he says. “At any point, you can run.”
“I don’t run away from things worth fighting for,” I reply.
A slow smile spreads over the older man’s face. “Here’s to things worth fighting for,” he whispers then closes the gap, his soft lips conforming to mine.
Author: amanda: jaclyn’s twin sister
Pairing: Kradam
Rating: G - for general fluffiness
P.O.V.: First person, Kris Allen
Notes: written for
all_unwritten writing prompt #234: I can’t be trusted. Other Notes: To make life less complicated there is no Katy.
Summary: When it comes to Adam Lambert, I can’t be trusted.
Prompt #234: I can’t be trusted…
When it comes to Adam Lambert, I can’t be trusted; not with my words, my actions or my hormones. And for that reason I make sure never to be alone with him. There always has to be at least one other person in the room with us at all times. But I’m not sure that plan is going to work anymore, it’s becoming too obvious. Especially at this exact moment.
* * * * *
“Hope everyone’s on board because it’s time to dig out!”
The driver’s voice interrupts my nap. I groan and stick my head under my pillow. I don’t even know where we are at this point. Have we even left the venue yet? What day is it? How long have I been asleep? With these questions swirling around my brain, I roll out of my designated bunk and stretch. My joints pop and I can’t help thinking I’m too young to be feeling this old. I never knew touring could take so much out of you. I hear movement coming from the back of the bus and decide to see what’s going on.
I shuffle down the hall to the lounge but stop dead when I see Adam sprawled out on the couch alone. Hoping he’s too engrossed in his book to notice me, I quickly turn on my heel. But the sound of his voice stops me from even taking one step.
“Kristopher.”
I curse under my breath and slowly turn around. “Kristopher? Wow, what’d I do now?” I joke trying to conjure up a playful smile.
Adam saves his place in the worn paperback by folding down one of the corners. Then he sits up, swinging his long legs over the side of the couch, and looks at me. It’s not a good look.
I scratch the back of my neck nervously. “So…when’d Allison leave?” I ask conversationally. Really I just want to turn and run, but my roommate’s piercing blue eyes have me glued in place.
Adam gestures to the couch across from him. “Can we talk?”
“Sure, what about?” I ask, moving to sit down on the offered piece of furniture.
“Why you’ve been avoiding me,” Adam answers, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes narrowed.
I rub the back of my neck again - nervous habit.
“I-I haven’t been avoiding you,” I stutter.
Adam snorts. “Yeah, that’s why you keep rubbing your neck.” He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “I know you, Kris, I know when you’re uncomfortable. What’s up, dude?”
“I, um…” My eyes flit around the little lounge, hoping the answer is written on the wall somewhere. When I’m finally convinced it’s not there, I lick my lips and let my eyes move back to my bus-mate.
He’s looking at me intensely and I can see the hurt in his baby blues. If you didn’t know him personally, you’d never know it was there. But after living with him for so long it’s completely obvious to me. His eyes scream the profanity he isn’t willing to hurt me with out loud. But whether he speaks the words or sends them out psychically, I can still hear them.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. Adam’s face falls, my words confirming his fears.
“Why?” he asks. I look down at my hands and shrug.
“I can’t be trusted around you,” I tell him softly.
“What does that mean?”
“It means…” I look around the room again for that damn writing on the wall.
Once again, I can’t find it and my eyes travel back to Adam. His expression is hard. I know he’s bracing himself for something horrendous. So I sit forward on the couch and reach out to cup the side of his face in my hand. I stroke my thumb back and forth lightly against his cheek.
“It means something like this,” I murmur and lean in, pressing my lips to his. I close my eyes, just letting my lips do what comes naturally.
Adam’s lips are so soft; exactly how they look, but nothing like I could imagine. They move so gently against mine, almost hesitantly like it’s his first time kissing a guy and not mine. After a moment I slowly, and reluctantly, pull away.
I blink slowly to find Adam’s eyes are still closed. “Adam?” I ask. He holds up his hand to silence me. I wait for him to say something or open his eyes, but he doesn’t. So I say his name again. He shakes his head, furrowing his eyebrows. After another moment, I say his name a third time.
His eyes roll beneath his make-up free eyelids. “God, Allen, can’t you give a guy time to reflect?” I bite my lip trying to keep silent. A heart-beat later his blue eyes flutter open. He reaches up and slides his hand through my hair. I can’t help leaning into the touch.
“What do you want to do?” I ask quietly.
“Fight or flight, Allen, it’s up to you,” he tells me.
“Fight,” I whisper.
Adam searches my eyes for a moment, then leans in close. But before our lips can touch, he stops. “You can still run,” he says. “At any point, you can run.”
“I don’t run away from things worth fighting for,” I reply.
A slow smile spreads over the older man’s face. “Here’s to things worth fighting for,” he whispers then closes the gap, his soft lips conforming to mine.
