templemarker

by templemarker

Notes: Cookie #2 for marcolette. Kris/Adam, slouching towards sexytimes.

***

When they were in crowded rooms together, sometimes Kris and Adam would text instead of talking. It was easier.

did you see that dude’s boots? i need those boots

you have eighty pairs of boots, adam, I counted that one time.

No matter where they stopped on tour, whether it was Kansas or New Jersey, there was always promotion, always an appearance, an interview, a party to go to after the show. Someone from the show’s publicity company sat down with them all before the tour and explained that doing that, all of that, was as much their job as getting up on stage and singing every night to crowds of screaming fans. It was strange to think of an interview with a local television station as work, but after at least a hundred of them, they understood better.

Also, there were always people around. Other Idols, family members, friends, PAs, agents, managers, tour managers, the list went on and on. There was no privacy, not even an illusion of it.

Sometimes Kris and Adam could use whatever little power they wield to get some space, even if it was just for fifteen minutes. For whatever reason, being in a room together felt more like being alone than actually being alone did. A busy looking assistant shoved them into a beige green room, where there were two couches, some bottled water, and no fucking people.

Kris was playing sudoku on his phone when a text from Adam appeared.

i like being quiet with you.

Kris smothered a little grin; when he looked at Adam over the edge of his phone, Adam’s face was all crinkly with his big stupid smile.

it is very nice to be quiet right now. i feel like i can think again

He heard Adam’s phone buzz, and their eyes met again over their iPhones. Kris had never even used a freaking iPhone before American Idol. He kind of loved his crazy life.

i want to fall asleep, but my brain won’t shut up & we only have twenty minutes. i don’t wanna talk to katie couric :(((

my mom said i had to get her autograph. if i’m goin’ you’re goin’, that’s how it works.

:((((((((( i want to sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

and i want memphis ribs and world peace life is hard suck it up

They were both laughing kind-of silently, definitely quietly, and Kris saw Adam’s toes flex in his white socks. He wiggled his one socked foot at Adam’s head and Adam laughed and batted it away, then started typing furiously. Kris couldn’t hear the clicky typewriter noise, but Adam’s thumbs were crazy fast.

do you want to take a nap with me? i promise i won’t feel you up in your sleep. pinky-swear

Kris peeked up at Adam, who was studiously thumbing through the albums on his iPhone and was also totally faking that he wasn’t paying attention to Kris. He was such a shitty faker, seriously, so bad at it. Kris could see his eyes move to look at Kris beneath the liner framing his eyelids.

Kris wiggled his foot again, smiled at Adam’s cautious look, and put his phone on the table. He sat up, taking off his other shoe, and put one knee on the other couch, right near Adam’s hip. Adam stared up at him, strands falling from his perfectly styled hair.

“You gonna move?” Kris asked, nudging at Adam until he put his phone away and turned over towards the couch.

“How come you get to be the big spoon?” Adam mock-grumbled, wiggling until Kris had enough room to lay next to him without his ass falling to the ground.

“Because that is the only proper thing to do when invited to cuddle, Adam. And here I thought your momma taught you better,” Kris said, settling an arm around Adam’s torso, resting his head between Adam’s shoulders, breathing in the scent of new t-shirt and cologne and Adam’s freckled skin.

“My momma taught me just fine,” Adam sassed back. He shifted one more time, and Kris tightened his arms to tell him to hold still.

They had at least twenty minutes before someone came to check on them. Long enough to count as sleep, on tour.

***