The World Will Love You
Apr. 9th, 2011 06:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eirana_reganTitle: The World Will Love You
Summary: Fill for Kris Tour: Shotgunning.
Pairings: Kris Allen/Adam Lambert, with gratuitous Krommy
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~1,000
Disclaimer: It’s fiction.
Notes: And so, I announce with great joy, that I have written a fill for a square on my kradingo card. \o/ (This is allladymichaelis' fault, per usual.) Title from a line in “Sweet Leaf” by Black Sabbath.
Warnings: illegal drug use (I blame the prompt)
Originally posted 9/24/10
~*~
In some city Adam can’t even remember the name of, he and Kris finally get a chance to hang out. They’re both on tour, but Adam has a free night, and while everyone else in Glamnation had opted out - even Allison - when he’d asked if anyone felt like coming with him to see Kris, Tommy hadn’t.
Which is why he and Tommy are now in a hotel room with Kris and the KAB, sprawled all over the room and passing around a blunt.
It comes back around to him and he takes a long pull, letting the smoky-sweet burn fill his lungs. It’s good stuff. Adam suddenly understands why everyone in Kris’ band looks so damn chill all the time.
He passes it on to Tommy, slumped next to him on the bed. He takes the joint from him eagerly, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes in. A sleepy smile forms on his face. He gets affectionate, nuzzling into Adam’s neck and practically lying on top of him. Kris is the only other person on the bed, but he doesn’t seem to mind, just leans over to take the blunt and take another hit.
They pass it on for a while longer, and after a while, people start leaving, ready to crash, the siren song of sleep calling. Adam’s almost there himself, his limbs feeling loose and languid. He remembers what it feels like to fall asleep after getting high. Best sleep of his life. It’s almost enough to make him want to indulge more often.
Next thing he knows, Cale’s leaving too, Kris walking him out, leaning against him heavily. He faceplants into Cale’s chest once he gets to the door, arms coming up to hug him tight. Cale smiles fondly and ruffles Kris’ hair before he goes, the door clicking shut behind him.
He and Tommy are the only ones left in Kris’ room. Adam knows he should probably get up - after making Tommy get up - and take his leave, but he’s so buzzed. He feels like he’s floating. The bed feels great under him, soft and comfy, and his limbs feel like they’ve forgotten how to move.
Kris comes back to the bed and sits down on Adam’s other side, waggling another joint at him. Last one, he says teasingly, offering.
Tommy sits up slowly, leaning heavily against the headboard, and holds out his hand, making grabby fingers. Gimme.
Kris passes it to Tommy and Adam watches as he puts it to his lips and Kris lights it. He doesn’t know how the two of them are still so alert. Adam feels done. He’s content to lie there and watch them pass it back and forth between them.
Soon, there’s only enough left for one pull, but they both look like they want it.
Kris, always the giver, tells Tommy to finish it off, but he shakes his head, insists that since it was Kris’, he should. They go back and forth for a while, at an impasse, when Kris’ eyes light up, a mischievous grin on his lips.
I have an idea, he says, leaning closer to Tommy. Just be ready, yeah? Tommy nods, waiting. Kris brings the blunt to his lips, taking a long, hard pull, pushing what’s left into Adam’s hand and leaning forward, a hand coming up to grip the back of Tommy’s head and pull him close.
Oh.
Tommy catches on quickly, mouth opening to Kris’ lips, moaning quietly as he exhales the smoke into his mouth. The smoke curls out around their lips. When it clears, he can see their tongues mingling, Kris’ fingers flexing on the back of Tommy’s neck.
Adam suddenly feels wide awake.
He crushes the tiny stub on the coaster resting on the nightstand that they’d been using as an ash tray. He can hear them making out, the wet, slick sound of their tongues and lips meeting over and over again, quiet pants from who, he can’t really tell, but he wants to know.
They pull apart an unknown amount of time later, breathing heavily against each other’s lips. Kris is resting his forehead against Tommy’s, a small grin on his lips.
You guys have fun on the rest of your tour, he says, voice raspy and wrecked and all sorts of good. Tommy smiles - a genuine, actual, honest-to-god smile - and gives Kris a quick peck. You too.
He shimmies off the bed and makes his way to the door, smacking Adam’s thigh and telling him to hurry up and get moving; they have to get back to the bus. Tommy opens the door and walks right out, leaving a dazed Adam lying on the bed.
Kris looks like he’s about to burst out laughing. He pulls Kris down and tickles his ribs, smiling at the loud giggles and snorts that leave him when Adam gets to his ticklish spots. They stop, both panting and out-of-breath; his face hurts from how wide he’s smiling.
You have to go, Kris says eventually, breaking the silence. I know. Adam kisses the back of his head, forcing himself to let go and sit up. He pulls Kris up from the bed, taking a moment to pinch his side and watching as Kris flushes, squirming away. They stop in front of the door, reluctant.
Don’t be a stranger, Kris says as they stand in front of the door, eyes warm and hazy. Adam nods, pulling him into a hug, and Kris settles into his spot, the two of them fitting together effortlessly.
Next time, you shotgun me, okay? Tommy can’t be having all the fun. He feels Kris laugh into his neck, free and easy.
Got it. But until then... He pulls away from the embrace, looking up to meet Adam’s eyes. He tiptoes, lips brushing against Adam’s chastely. It’s soft and fleeting, barely there. Adam’s hands come up to hold him there when he makes to move away, deepening the kiss, his tongue darting out to brush against Kris’ lips, pleased when they open to him, letting him in.
Kris tastes like smoke and cherries - Tommy’s gloss - sticky and sweet. He lets him go with a sigh, eyes closing and leaning his forehead against Kris’.
Next time.
Promise?
Promise.
End.
Summary: Fill for Kris Tour: Shotgunning.
Pairings: Kris Allen/Adam Lambert, with gratuitous Krommy
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~1,000
Disclaimer: It’s fiction.
Notes: And so, I announce with great joy, that I have written a fill for a square on my kradingo card. \o/ (This is all
ladymichaelis' fault, per usual.) Title from a line in “Sweet Leaf” by Black Sabbath.Warnings: illegal drug use (I blame the prompt)
Originally posted 9/24/10
~*~
In some city Adam can’t even remember the name of, he and Kris finally get a chance to hang out. They’re both on tour, but Adam has a free night, and while everyone else in Glamnation had opted out - even Allison - when he’d asked if anyone felt like coming with him to see Kris, Tommy hadn’t.
Which is why he and Tommy are now in a hotel room with Kris and the KAB, sprawled all over the room and passing around a blunt.
It comes back around to him and he takes a long pull, letting the smoky-sweet burn fill his lungs. It’s good stuff. Adam suddenly understands why everyone in Kris’ band looks so damn chill all the time.
He passes it on to Tommy, slumped next to him on the bed. He takes the joint from him eagerly, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes in. A sleepy smile forms on his face. He gets affectionate, nuzzling into Adam’s neck and practically lying on top of him. Kris is the only other person on the bed, but he doesn’t seem to mind, just leans over to take the blunt and take another hit.
They pass it on for a while longer, and after a while, people start leaving, ready to crash, the siren song of sleep calling. Adam’s almost there himself, his limbs feeling loose and languid. He remembers what it feels like to fall asleep after getting high. Best sleep of his life. It’s almost enough to make him want to indulge more often.
Next thing he knows, Cale’s leaving too, Kris walking him out, leaning against him heavily. He faceplants into Cale’s chest once he gets to the door, arms coming up to hug him tight. Cale smiles fondly and ruffles Kris’ hair before he goes, the door clicking shut behind him.
He and Tommy are the only ones left in Kris’ room. Adam knows he should probably get up - after making Tommy get up - and take his leave, but he’s so buzzed. He feels like he’s floating. The bed feels great under him, soft and comfy, and his limbs feel like they’ve forgotten how to move.
Kris comes back to the bed and sits down on Adam’s other side, waggling another joint at him. Last one, he says teasingly, offering.
Tommy sits up slowly, leaning heavily against the headboard, and holds out his hand, making grabby fingers. Gimme.
Kris passes it to Tommy and Adam watches as he puts it to his lips and Kris lights it. He doesn’t know how the two of them are still so alert. Adam feels done. He’s content to lie there and watch them pass it back and forth between them.
Soon, there’s only enough left for one pull, but they both look like they want it.
Kris, always the giver, tells Tommy to finish it off, but he shakes his head, insists that since it was Kris’, he should. They go back and forth for a while, at an impasse, when Kris’ eyes light up, a mischievous grin on his lips.
I have an idea, he says, leaning closer to Tommy. Just be ready, yeah? Tommy nods, waiting. Kris brings the blunt to his lips, taking a long, hard pull, pushing what’s left into Adam’s hand and leaning forward, a hand coming up to grip the back of Tommy’s head and pull him close.
Oh.
Tommy catches on quickly, mouth opening to Kris’ lips, moaning quietly as he exhales the smoke into his mouth. The smoke curls out around their lips. When it clears, he can see their tongues mingling, Kris’ fingers flexing on the back of Tommy’s neck.
Adam suddenly feels wide awake.
He crushes the tiny stub on the coaster resting on the nightstand that they’d been using as an ash tray. He can hear them making out, the wet, slick sound of their tongues and lips meeting over and over again, quiet pants from who, he can’t really tell, but he wants to know.
They pull apart an unknown amount of time later, breathing heavily against each other’s lips. Kris is resting his forehead against Tommy’s, a small grin on his lips.
You guys have fun on the rest of your tour, he says, voice raspy and wrecked and all sorts of good. Tommy smiles - a genuine, actual, honest-to-god smile - and gives Kris a quick peck. You too.
He shimmies off the bed and makes his way to the door, smacking Adam’s thigh and telling him to hurry up and get moving; they have to get back to the bus. Tommy opens the door and walks right out, leaving a dazed Adam lying on the bed.
Kris looks like he’s about to burst out laughing. He pulls Kris down and tickles his ribs, smiling at the loud giggles and snorts that leave him when Adam gets to his ticklish spots. They stop, both panting and out-of-breath; his face hurts from how wide he’s smiling.
You have to go, Kris says eventually, breaking the silence. I know. Adam kisses the back of his head, forcing himself to let go and sit up. He pulls Kris up from the bed, taking a moment to pinch his side and watching as Kris flushes, squirming away. They stop in front of the door, reluctant.
Don’t be a stranger, Kris says as they stand in front of the door, eyes warm and hazy. Adam nods, pulling him into a hug, and Kris settles into his spot, the two of them fitting together effortlessly.
Next time, you shotgun me, okay? Tommy can’t be having all the fun. He feels Kris laugh into his neck, free and easy.
Got it. But until then... He pulls away from the embrace, looking up to meet Adam’s eyes. He tiptoes, lips brushing against Adam’s chastely. It’s soft and fleeting, barely there. Adam’s hands come up to hold him there when he makes to move away, deepening the kiss, his tongue darting out to brush against Kris’ lips, pleased when they open to him, letting him in.
Kris tastes like smoke and cherries - Tommy’s gloss - sticky and sweet. He lets him go with a sigh, eyes closing and leaning his forehead against Kris’.
Next time.
Promise?
Promise.
End.
