Words Are Unnecessary

The text said, “can u meet me @ the theater?” and Adam hadn’t even had a chance to text back before the next one came to answer his question: “now.”

And Adam shook his head, grinning, because being Kris’s friend meant being ready to do unexpected things on the spur of the moment as they popped into Kris’s head.

So for example, when Kris wants to call him at midnight to drive over with a sack of plums and play Scrabble, Adam dutifully gets in his car and brings him the damn fruit, and ends up having a really good time, even though Kris kicks his ass at the game without an ounce of remorse. It was the least Adam could do; to be there for him as Kris’s life had shifted off course and left him stranded in L.A. without a definite plan of where to go next.

Two years since Idol, and neither of them could have predicted then where they would be now, and the good, the bad, and the painful had been one long fucking ridiculous ride that had left them both sure of only one thing. That no matter what, they had to stick by each other and not let the madness get in the way of their friendship.

Which is why Adam immediately dropped what he was doing and headed over to the theater.

The lanky girl at the ticket counter waved him over as Adam frowned at the show times, trying to figure out whether Kris was more likely to want to see the Drew Barrymore chick flick or the latest end-of-the-world disaster movie whose soundtrack did not include Adam Lambert and was tanking at the box office, ha ha.

“If you’re Adam, there’s someone waiting for you in theater eight,” she said without a flicker of recognition in her eyes, which was a bit of an ego blow, but hey, maybe she just woken up from a coma.

Adam fished for his wallet, but she waved vaguely at him again. “It’s already paid for. Theater eight,” she repeated, and turned her eyes back to an equally lanky guy at the concession stand, who apparently was much more her type than Adam was, judging by the hungry looks they exchanged. Adam sincerely hoped that the after-effects of the coma would not cause a permanent loss of good taste, and made his way down the carpeted hallway.

The sounds of various movies in mid-play filtered into the hallway from behind closed doors, but when Adam stepped into the last one on the left, it was silent inside. The lights were dim except for one near the screen, and there sitting in a sea of empty seats was Kris, his arm draped across the back of the next seat, looking back at Adam.

And what was that look? Kris was always glad to see him, and his quick crooked grin could melt Adam’s heart from a mile away, but Kris wasn’t smiling now. There was something in his look that made Adam stop short, and then stumble a little as he moved down the aisle. Kris watched him silently, and Adam thought, oh no, not again. Because they’ve talked about this.

After that night in Rochester, halfway through the tour, when Kris had had one too many beers after one too many arguments with Katy, and wouldn’t leave Adam’s hotel room. It had taken all of Adam’s emotional strength to push Kris’s straying hands away and to ignore the yearning look in his eyes as he left Kris sitting on the edge of the bed while Adam left the room to spend a sleepless night on the bus alone.

They had discussed it at length and with great objectivity, because they were both reasonable people for the most part, and had concluded that the very best thing for all concerned was to make a pact that no matter what, their friendship would come first. And any feelings other than friendship were way too risky and complicated to ever explore. Simple.

It had been a very satisfactory pact, except for the part that made Adam’s heart hurt sometimes when he wondered if risky and complicated might not be better than objective and reasonable. But Kris had seemed satisfied, and that had to be good enough if it kept him in Adam’s life.

So this look in Kris’s eyes as they pulled Adam along was very close to freaking Adam right out. And Adam was really not looking forward to having that talk again. But of course he kept moving forward, because what else could he do? Kris didn’t move as Adam entered his row and sat down, leaving a seat between them.

Kris had given up plaid a while back, but his tastes still ran pretty conservative, so Adam was surprised to see the leather jacket and even more surprised that Kris was wearing the gray tank top that Adam had bought him once on a whim.

“Uh, thanks, man, but seriously, I can’t wear this,” Kris had said at the time.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Well, it’s so… um, thin, and… low cut,” and his cheeks had gotten a little pink even as he held it at arm’s length, and Adam had laughed at him.

“Okay, whatever. Just know that you could totally rock this look if you wanted to. One of these days, you should really own your inner sex symbol.” But Kris had never worn the shirt, and Adam had let it go.

Adam tried to look nonchalant as Kris continued to gaze at him, even though the silence was making him aware that his heart was beating way too fast for comfort. He took in Kris’s perfectly tousled hair (had he actually used some of the products that Adam kept leaving at his place?), that beautiful perfect face, the necklaces draping down his chest and holy hell, under his shirt…

Why are you doing this to me, Kris Allen, Adam thought anxiously. But they were friends, and so friend Adam quirked an eyebrow at Kris and gave him a quick, questioning once-over which Kris answered with a ghost of his usual grin and a little shrug before looking down to rub something invisible off his jeans.

He had gotten so thin, Adam realized with a pang, as he noticed how Kris’s ring had slipped almost down to his knuckle. Why Kris continued to wear it was a bit of a mystery that Adam had never asked him about. But now Kris was looking at him again, and as if he had read Adam’s mind, pulled the ring off slowly.

Adam must have looked worried, because Kris gave him a reassuring smile and shook his head as he slipped the ring into his pocket. And that’s when Adam knew.

There would be no talk. The pact had served its purpose; it had gotten them to this point, after all. To where they could sit in an empty theater and understand each other without having to break the silence.

Kris leaned across the seat, his fingers reaching to brush a stray bit of hair away from Adam’s face and lingering to trace a line along his jaw.

And really, wasn’t that just typical of the Bizarro World relationship they had, thought Adam, where laid-back little Kris was the one doing the seducing while Adam sat in breathless anticipation. But it was still just Kris under a slightly glammier surface, because as Adam continued to sit motionless, he saw the expression in the world’s prettiest brown eyes turn a little uncertain.

And that was just not okay, because if Kris was ready for this, well, Adam had been ready for a hell of a long time, and who was it who had told him once that fortune favors the brave? So he hooked a finger around the black cord of Kris’s necklace and pulled him close, catching a glimpse of the eye-of-horus pendant (seriously, Kris?) before he finally gave that sweet mouth the kiss he had been dreaming about for a long lifetime.

There were so many things to be discussed, but that was for later, Adam thought, pulling away to admire the picture of Kris panting at him with unconcealed want—eyes unfocused and dark, lips damp and soft and fatally tempting. For now, Adam moved into the seat next to Kris and took him into his arms.  There’s a lot to be said for good dialogue, but Adam could never resist a good kissing scene.