Fic: Soul Kiss

Title: Soul Kiss
Pairing: Kradam
Rating: PG-13 for language and a few soul kisses
Word count: 1,300
Disclaimer: Don't know them, didn't happen (I wish)
Notes: Schmoopy, angsty, and a bit woo woo (just how I like it). Unbeta'd so mistakes are mine. This was sparked by someone posting on ontd_ai_tinhat about soulmates, and about Kris's soul being claimed by love.



Kris lay on the weight bench in the hotel gym, lifting iron, and fretting. He kept trying to think back to what was going on right before the kiss. If he could just figure that out, maybe he could figure out what had possessed him. I mean, Adam was amazing, Kris knew that and loved that about him. Kris admired him for being so darn talented, so fearless, and yet so kind. He had learned a lot from Adam, stuff like how not to give up, how to stand up for yourself in the face of no one agreeing with you, how to keep a positive perspective on things. He wouldn’t have lasted half as long on this surreal journey without Adam.

But this Adam thing was getting out of control, Kris decided, as he started doing some chest presses with the free weights, enjoying the slight burn in his muscles. When had Adam become the first thing he thought about in the morning and the last thing he thought about at night? That wasn’t right. Maybe it was just this crazy tour and being in each others space, 24/7. Maybe he was getting overwhelmed because Adam had an overwhelming personality. He was so over the top, so attractive, so magnetic, so full of life, so fun, so -- whoa Kris, there you go again. Stop it. But even as he tried to clamp it down, his mind kept helpfully supplying adjectives for Adam: so interested, so ready to give, so self directed, so intentional, so focused…

Kris sat up on the bench, sweating a bit, and began to do bicep curls, staring at himself in the mirror. Okay, Adam boggled his mind but he boggled lots of people’s minds. So what the frig was that, last night? What had possessed him to up and kiss Adam right in the middle of backstage chaos when he had never kissed him, never even thought about kissing him? Okay, that last part wasn’t strictly true, but he wasn’t gay. He was a straight, married, former church worship leader from Arkansas. Kris had taken to repeating this to himself quite a bit lately.

He frowned at his reflection, now thinking about Adam’s reaction last night. It had been a non-reaction, really. Adam had been laughing and turning his head to look down at Kris, his arm around Kris’s shoulder, and Kris hadn’t thought, he’d just gone up on his tiptoes and planted a kiss right on Adam’s smiling lips, then come back down on his feet in shock. Adam’s response had been a surprised laugh and a quick pat on the shoulder, before turning away to get his microphone. It made Kris kind of mad, thinking about it, until he caught himself. Because, really? Being mad that Adam didn’t respond to the kiss that surprised them both; that made even less sense than the kiss.

He set down the bar bells and flexed his bicep, curling his other hand around it. Adam’s arms are really getting defined, they’re looking good. Ah, hell. He tried once again to reel his mind in from the Adam stream. Okay, you’re making yourself crazy here. None of this means anything. And if Drake sits in the audience one more night and Adam waves at him again, I’m going to… oh.

Kris’s heart sped up and he stood suddenly, feeling a bit lightheaded. He got on the treadmill, setting it to a relentless pace, something that would get him to stop thinking. He needed not to think for awhile.

As he sat in the hotel restaurant an hour later, drinking coffee and chatting with Anoop, Kris felt his nerve endings begin to tingle and he knew without turning around that Adam had just entered the room and was coming up behind him. He felt the touch of Adam’s hand before it actually happened, felt the happiness flood through him as Adam’s hand came around his shoulder and squeezed his neck. As he watched Adam go over to the breakfast buffet, his entire body aflame from that single touch, the realization hit him like something suddenly caving in: Oh no, please no. I am completely in love with Adam.

Anoop was saying something to him, smiling, snapping his fingers in front of Kris’s face.

“Dude, what? You look like Adam just shot your mother.”

“Uh.”

Adam was coming towards the table, a plate in his hands. Kris knew without looking what would be on it: fruit, yogurt and a dab of scrambled eggs. He knew what Adam’s expression would be, all morning yawns and snarky humor. He knew that Adam would look at him and, and. Oh, man. Adam will know. Blushing, Kris looked around; escape was futile.

And then Adam was there, setting his plate down next to Kris’s and motioning to him to scoot over on the booth seat, and then Adam was right beside him, leg and arm touching his lightly, laughing over at Anoop and tossing out some comment. There was a flash of Adam’s eyes over to his face and a faint press of Adam’s leg (he knows, oh God), and Adam was eating, and talking, and waving his fork around for emphasis, throwing Anoop entirely off the scent, while Kris sat, paralyzed.

In the midst of his embarrassment and fear, however, as he sat dying a few deaths while Anoop munched toast, oblivious, Kris slowly became aware of something else, something oddly incongruous and of a whole other quality. For right in the middle of the mess that his life had suddenly become, there was a certainty, a calmness, something beating away with a steady regularity, something that felt as ancient and eternal as it felt new.

If Kris could put it into words, which he couldn’t right now as he was still reeling, he would say that it felt like he was being held. It was in the way Adam had always looked at him, just looked. It was how Adam’s body positioned itself protectively whenever Kris was near, angled in towards him, touching. It was in the way Adam listened to him when he spoke, gazed at him proudly when he sang. It was in the frickin’ waves of energy that radiated between them whenever they were around each other, and even when they weren’t. It was in the way they didn’t speak about it, ever, like they were holding it carefully in the spaces of their silence.

As Kris sat there in the restaurant, numbly listening to Adam and Anoop shoot the breeze, he felt something blast open, and he got the whole thing with a blinding clarity. What was there in the middle of the wreckage was love, and it wasn’t Adam who was holding him, it was love, a big, enormous soul-love that was holding them both, while at the same time possibly overturning their entire lives. He practically stopped breathing. That kiss made more sense now. It had been his soul bypassing his mind and his history for just a second.

Adam and Anoop laughed at something while Kris sat dizzily, vibrating inwardly with this new knowledge but with no clue what do to now. He was still straight, still married, still a former church worship leader from Arkansas. All he knew so far was that he was going to be doing a lot of praying. Adam turned and looked at him, smiling softly, and Kris felt himself relax into that cushion of unspoken love, as a prayer silently flowed through him. Thank you, God, for Adam. Help me and show me the way.

For now, it was enough to sit in this restaurant booth, feeling Adam’s leg resting comfortingly against his, and breathe, while on some other plane altogether, wherever souls lived, he was lifting his face once more to Adam’s and feeling those sweet lips press against his. Beside him, he could feel Adam sigh, as the bill came, and life went on.