Doesn't Anyone Believe in Knocking Anymore?

Fic: Doesn't Anyone Believe in Knocking Anymore?
Author: ScruffyBunny
Pairing: Kradam
Rating: PGish?
Summary: Adam wonders if fate does this to him on purpose, not that he’s ungrateful. What if he’d walked in on Matt or Anoop or (God forbid) Danny? He shudders at the thought, which jars him back to reality.  Random bit because I got attacked by a rather forceful plot bunny. My apologies in advance. No, really.
Disclaimer: Didn't happen, as far as I know. Don't own

He knows this has always been an inevitability. He knows it, but that doesn’t make it any less awkward when he walks in on it, and it doesn’t help that it’s Kris, and he’s in his underwear. Adam rolls his eyes at that thought because, really, what else would Kris be wearing? You can’t wear proper clothes for this; it just isn’t how it’s done.

It’s not that he thinks there’s something wrong with what he’d just witnessed. Hell, Adam’s done it himself more times than he cares to count. It’s just a natural thing to do, in his opinion.

But it’s Kris. Kris, for crying out loud!

Adam wonders if fate does this to him on purpose, not that he’s ungrateful. What if he’d walked in on Matt or Anoop or (God forbid) Danny? He shudders at the thought, which jars him back to reality. A reality in which Kris is still staring at him, wide-eyed and obviously flustered.

"I…" he starts to say, but the sentence trails off into silence as Kris struggles for something to say. Adam shuts the door behind him and smiles good-naturedly, deciding that playing it off is probably the best tactic.

"I was really hoping that it would stay sunny today," he comments. He nods out the window, where the rain patters down. "Not much to do on a rainy day." The second bit is out of his mouth before he really thinks about it, but the implications become clear when Kris' cheeks flood with a rosy shade of red. Adam rolls his eyes at himself. So much for playing it off.

"Kris, it's really not a big deal. Your secret is safe with me." There's promise in his tone, and Kris smiles, albeit sheepishly.

"It's kind of addictive," he finally says with a small laugh. Adam shrugs expressively.

"No need to tell me, honey. I know." Kris has an honest laugh at this and excuses himself to the bathroom, grabbing some clothes off of his bed as he goes. Disaster averted, Adam sighs to himself, lying back on his bed. He's just settling in for a quick nap when Matt pokes his head in the door.

"Doesn't anyone believe in knocking anymore?" Adam blurts out theatrically. The irony of it isn't lost on him. Matt ignores the comment and grins.

"We're gonna play Trivial Pursuit, so if you guys want to…" He makes it halfway through the invitation before he notices the open laptop next to Kris' bed. Adam feels his stomach drop. Matt is a bit obtuse, but he isn't stupid. He'll figure it out, and Adam won't be able to keep Kris' secret. He closes his eyes and braces himself for the deluge of questions about the contents of Kris' laptop. Matt isn't one to disappoint.

"Why does Kris have a video tutorial for the Single Ladies dance on his computer?"

  • Current Music
    Single Ladies- Beyonce

But I Want To

Fic: But I Want To
Author: ScruffyBunny
Pairing: Kradam
Rating: G
Summary: “Take two. Doctor’s orders,” he says with a winning smile. Kris frowns.
“You’re not a doctor, Matt,” he points out. Matt shrugs.“No, but I read the back of the box. I figure that it shouldn’t be too difficult to correctly administer Tylenol PM."
Inspired by the sickly!tweets on the Twitter. Poor sweeties. I totally feel for them, as I've been sick, too. :/
Disclaimer: Didn't happen, as far as I know. Don't own.

“But I want to,” Kris mumbles, trying to crawl out of his bunk despite the fact that everything is spinning, and he really isn’t sure which way is up. Adam lunges forward and catches Kris before the American Idol falls out of his bunk and cracks his head open.

“But obviously you can’t,” he argues softly. He gently paces Kris back in his bunk, hoping that the rasp didn’t show in his own voice.

“Can too,” Kris slurs childishly, clinging onto Adam and snuggling into his chest. “I just need to rest for, like, five minutes.”

“Or for the rest of the night,” Anoop pitches in as he pulls his socks on. “You’re totally sick, Kris.” Kris looks blearily up at Anoop for a minute before sniffing and looking back at Adam.

“Adam, am I totally sick?” He keeps reminding Adam of a little kid, and Adam struggles for a minute to get around the mental “Awww, cute” that immediately springs up in his head.

“Yes, Kris. You’re very sick, and you need to rest.” Kris takes this in for a minute and leans into Adam, using him as a pillow.

“They’re gonna hate me,” he finally says. This, Adam decides is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, Kris has clearly resigned himself to a night of bed-rest. On the other, he’s moved on to the conclusion that he’ll be letting down his fans, and it doesn’t sit too well with him.

Without thinking, Adam runs his fingers through Kris’ hair, petting his head in what he hopes is a soothing manner. Judging by the way that Kris’ already-heavy eyelids start to droop, he guesses he’s doing an okay job.

“Shhh. That’s silly, Kris. They’ll be sad that you’re sick, but they definitely won’t hate you.” Kris’ slack grip tightens on Adam’s sleeve, and he blinks sleepily.

“You promise?” Adam half-smiles at this. It’s a unique skill, the way that Kris manages to blend cute with sick and groggy, but Adam can feel Kris’ body heat through his clothes, and he’s starting to get concerned.

“I promise, Kris. Now, please. Get some rest.” Kris nods, and he starts nodding off in Adam’s arms.

“Wait!” Matt’s sudden appearance jars Kris from whatever sleep he was about to drift into, and Adam is two seconds from turning around and biting the piano man’s head off, but then he sees the medicine cup in Matt’s hands. Matt is oblivious to the utter annihilation that was about to rain down upon him, evident in the way that he presents the cup to Kris.

“Take two. Doctor’s orders,” he says with a winning smile. Kris frowns.

“You’re not a doctor, Matt,” he grumbles. Matt shrugs.

“No, but I read the back of the box. I figure that it shouldn’t be too difficult to correctly administer Tylenol PM.” Kris isn’t having it, though, and he buries his face in Adam’s shoulder. Adam sees the somewhat hurt look on Matt’s face and gives him an apologetic look. He was only trying to help, after all.

“I think he’s getting delirious,” Anoop diagnoses. “He should totally take that Tylenol.”

“I’m sick, not deaf, and I don’t want Tylenol,” Kris pouts, sounding muffled as he talks into Adam’s shoulder.

“But you’re burning up,” Matt points out.

“Then call a fireman,” Kris giggles, and now he’s starting to sound delirious.

“Adam, do something,” Anoop suggests.

“Me? What do you want me to do?” Adam asks in a hushed whisper.

“He’s obviously listening to you, and he needs to take this,” Matt pitches in, jiggling the cup so that the pills rattle around inside it. Adam shifts to take the cup, though he’s lightly impeded by the matter of Kris clinging to him like a koala. Impeded, but certainly not inconvenienced.

“Kris,” he sighs, nudging the younger man. Kris grunts in protest but looks up at Adam. “Kris, I don’t want to take these. Can you take them for me?”

“Of course, boobear!” Kris mutters with a goofy grin, and Adam can’t help but grin back, though a voice in the back of his mind is saying, “Boobear?”

“Please tell me that someone got that on tape,” Anoop pleads, trying to contain his laughter and probably fracturing a rib in the process.  Adam ignores him and hands the medicine cup to Kris. Kris pops the pills into his mouth and chases them with a bottle of water that Anoop hands him.

“You can keep it,” the college grad says pleasantly when Kris tries to hand the water back. Kris nods wearily and returns his head to Adam’s shoulder. He stays there until he falls asleep, and Danny taps him on the shoulder.

“You’re gonna get sick, you know. Besides, he’s out cold, man. He won’t notice if you don’t sit there the whole time.” Danny’s only trying to be reasonable, but Adam looks down at Kris.

“But I want to,” he says softly.

  • Current Music
    Time of the Season- The Zombies

On an non-fic note...

Totally going to Atlanta on the 16th to audition for series nine of American Idol.

Not gonna lie; it's absolutely nerve-wracking, and I'm panicking a little about song choice at this point.

Would it be trite of me to do Somewhere Over the Rainbow? [hint: undoubtedly.]

But I'll be there, hoping to God that I don't end up on TV as one of those. You know. Those.


I should have another fic up shortly. Life's being pretty hectic right now, what with the life choices I've made recently and the total overload of Kradam adorable in the media right now.


Of Cabbages and Kings

Fic: Of Cabbages and Kings
Author: ScruffyBunny
Pairing: Kradam
Rating: PG-13 for brief mention of sexual situation
Summary: “Unless Danny can levitate a pillow through several winding corridors and simultaneously project an illusion into my head that makes me see you throwing a pillow at my head… Then, yeah, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t Danny,” he mutters, trying not to sound amused.
Disclaimer: Didn't happen, as far as I know. Don't own.

They’re sitting on the couch, waiting for Danny to get back from the recording session before Kris is called in. At the beginning of the competition, Kris always thought it was amazing, how fast Adam could text, but now he just adds it to the super-long list of things at which Adam is naturally good. He fiddles with his own phone for a few moments before setting it on the table in front of the couches. He glances up at Adam, who is completely absorbed in what he’s doing, and sighs.

When Adam doesn’t look up, Kris shifts in his seat and sighs again, this time a little louder than before. Adam’s eyes move from his phone to Kris, but he says nothing. Kris puts on a bit of a pout and picks up the accent pillow from the middle of the couch. He tosses it at Adam’s head with just enough force that the San Diego native has to look at him.

“I said ‘sigh’,” Kris says loudly, faking an aggravation that is ultimately belied by the wide smile on his face.

“You just hit me in the face with a pillow,” Adam states flatly. Kris shrugs innocently.

“Are you sure it wasn’t Danny?” he asks. Adam narrows his eyes.

“Unless Danny can levitate a pillow through several winding corridors and simultaneously project an illusion into my head that makes me see you throwing a pillow at my head… Then, yeah, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t Danny,” he mutters, trying not to sound amused. Kris smirks coyly.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” he admits conspiratorially. “Who knows what powers our bespectacled friend possesses?” Adam laughs at this despite himself. When Kris gets bored, Kris gets restless. And when Kris gets restless, he becomes noticeably more like a little kid. Adam thinks it’s precious, if he’s quite honest with himself. In the spirit of being honest with himself, however, he also has to admit that he always thinks Kris is precious. More than precious, really, but that’s beside the point.

“Why’d you hit me with the pillow?” Adam asks abruptly, catching Kris off guard and eliciting a guilty chuckle.

“Because I’m starved for attention,” he says playfully, though he and Adam both know that all the excess attention he’s been getting makes him a little uncomfortable. “And I’m sorry, Adam, but I’d like to think that I’m more interesting than a phone.” Adam looks at him questioningly.

“Kristopher, do you mean to say that you are jealous of my cellular telephone?” he gasps with practiced incredulity. Kris shrugs again, and Adam has to consciously stop his gaze from drifting to the well-toned shoulders barely obscured by Kris’ plain, white t-shirt.

“Maybe,” Kris admits. “But c’mon. It’s a little rude to just text away while your BFF is sitting over here, dying of boredom.”

“It’s also a little rude to hurl a throw pillow in your BFF’s face,” Adam counters. “At least tell me that you didn’t mess up my hair, Allen.” Kris studies Adam’s trademark locks and winces. Adam had spent the better part of an hour that morning getting it to stick up in just the right places. Kris hadn’t thought about that when he threw the pillow, but it had definitely messed up Adam’s hair.

“Sorry,” he apologizes immediately. At the sound of the sincere apology, Adam sighs and resigns himself to fixing his hair in the bathroom. He’s not looking forward to it, and the thoughts are running so strongly through his head that he’s completely thrown when he realizes that Kris is moving towards him on the couch.

“What are you doing?” Adam manages to ask before Kris leans across him, running fingers through his hair. Kris is focused on whatever it is that he’s doing, so it takes him a few seconds to answer.

“I’m fixing your hair,” he mutters distractedly. He ruffles his fingers through the Adam’s hair, shaking out the bit of gel and other product that Adam had treated it with that morning. He’s so busy playing with Adam’s hair that he doesn’t realize how red Adam has turned, which could roughly be described as the same shade as the walls around them.

Adam is frozen to the spot, his thoughts racing. How the paths left my Kris’ fingertips send a tingling sensation through his scalp, down his spine, and all the way to his toes. How Kris smells like Old Spice (Swagger, unless Adam is very much mistaken, and he knows he isn’t.). How Kris is basically straddling his thighs as he plays with Adam’s hair. How Kris is talking, but all Adam can hear is the melodic inflections of his voice rather than actual words. He notices that Kris is looking at him with concern, and then he slows his thoughts enough to hear what Kris is asking.

“You okay?” Kris asks again. “You look like you’re going to pass out.” Adam laments that Kris has no idea, but he isn’t about to tell his roommate that. Kris nods knowingly.

“I think I understand,” he sighs. Adam is speechless, something that rarely happens, though he notices that when it does, Kris is usually involved.

“You do?” he asks, only noticing how dry his mouth is when he fumbles over his tongue. Kris nods.

“You have no confidence in my ability to style hair,” he concludes. Adam does his best not to laugh because Kris has apparently attended the Giraud School of Obtuse Reasoning. But this is a perfect out to a potentially awkward disaster, so Adam nods gravely.

“’Fraid so,” he says wearily. Kris chuckles and goes back to playing with Adam’s hair.

“Well, fear not, Mr Lambert. It’s not like I just wake up with this,” he reassures, pointing at his own hair, which unfailingly reminds Adam of Doctor Who. The funny thing is that Adam is fully aware that Kris usually does wake up with his hair like that. But he doesn’t have much time to think about that because Kris returns to his ministrations, pausing thoughtfully every now and then to look at his work.

Adam likes to think that he has brilliant self-control, and usually he’s right. Right now, however, he feels like he’s getting drunk of off proximity, and he’s nothing short of mortified when he feels that oh-so-familiar feeling below the waistline. He hopes, hopes, hopes that Kris doesn’t notice, trying to think about anything but the piece of gorgeous sitting practically on his lap.

The time has come, The Walrus said, to talk of many things. Of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings, he thinks in a loop. When that doesn’t help, he ups the ante, adding Or why the sea is boiling hot, and whether pigs have wings to the mix. Unfortunately, it’s all over-powered when Kris leans in close, snaking his arm around the back of Adam’s head to play with the back.

Adam strategically moves his scarf in front of his physical reaction, cursing to himself for wearing such tight pants all the time. It’s not his fault he has great legs, after all. Thankfully, Kris sits back and puts his hands on his hips. He’s wearing a satisfied grin as he nods with approval.

“I think it looks good down,” he declares, brushing his fingers across Adam’s bangs. Before Adam can say anything, Kris is sliding off of him and heading towards the bathroom. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go wash the gel off of my hands.” Adam doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he nods fervently.

Kris is exiting the bathroom when Danny intercepts him and lets him know that the sound guys are ready for him. Adam glares upwards for a moment, wondering if he missed the memo from Fate that told him he wasn’t going to catch a break today. He immediately calls his voicemail, anything to dissuade Danny from talking to him.

Danny, bless him, knows how to take a hint and settles for a polite smile as he takes a seat on the couch. He sits on the other end by force of habit. His subconscious seems to know that the space next to Adam is always reserved for Kris. Not that either Adam or Kris has ever explicitly stated this, but Danny isn’t stupid. He pulls out his laptop and has a go at his e-mail before the silence gets to him.

“So,” he ventures at conversation, “What happened to your hair?”

“Kris hit me with a pillow, so he fixed it,” Adam blurts out, sounding borderline defensive. Danny picks up on this, but thinks it best to pretend that he doesn’t. Instead, he smiles good-naturedly.

“Well, it looks good,” he compliments, returning his attention to his e-mail. He pretends not to hear as Adam lets out a sigh of relief and pretends not to notice when Adam stands up, holding his scarf in place as he heads to the bathroom. Glancing at the section of the couch that Kris and Adam usually occupy, Danny makes sure he’s alone in the room before a full-on smile hits his features.

“I ship it,” he declares to no one in particular.


Author’s Notes: Inspired by this picture.

I think this is the closest that I’m ever going to get to writing smut (I’ve honestly no skill in the matter, trust me.) .

Not much to say about this one, really. Title comes from “The Walrus and the Carpenter” by Lewis Carroll. Yeah, yeah. I’m a Wonderland fangirl.

I liked the ending a lot more than the ending on my last one. That being said, it’s probably rubbish. Meh. We all know that Danny is a secret shipper. Don’t front.

For those of you unfamiliar with Doctor Who, I was totally comparing Kris’ hair to The Doctor’s, as seen here.

And I think that’s pretty much it. Hope you enjoyed it!

  • Current Music
    The Walrus and the Carpenter- Alice in Wonderland

Don't Think Twice; It's Alright

Fic: Don't Think Twice; It's Alright
Author: ScruffyBunny
Pairing: Kradam
Rating: PG
Summary: Kris does his best to silence a surprised yelp as Adam hugs him close, hooking his leg more securely around his waist, like Kris is a life-sized teddy bear or something. Companion piece to "All Over You."
Disclaimer: Didn't happen, as far as I know. Don't own.

A beam of sunlight powers through the windows and hits Kris directly in the face. He closes his eyes tighter, unwilling to move. He’s comfortable, after all. It’s funny; he can’t remember the beds being this warm or this comfortable before. As he gives up on holding onto sleep, he begins to notice some things.

First of all, there’s a weight on his lower back. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s not something that Kris is used to. There’s a similar weight wrapped around his shoulders, and something is resting on top of his head. Kris turns away from the direct sunlight and opens an eye.

He’s rather close to Adam, he discovers rather quickly. It is in fact Adam’s leg draped across his lower back. Adam’s arms wrapped around him. Adam’s fingers softly petting his hair as the singer continues to sleep. Kris recalls the night before and sighs. He’ll have to apologize to Adam for being so hyper. At the same time, he’s hesitant to wake his friend.

He spares a glance at the alarm clock. It’s only six o’clock, and they don’t have anything scheduled today. No, he’ll let Adam sleep. Maybe he’ll sneak downstairs and make breakfast for everyone. It’s been a while since he’s been able to cook.

Slowly, carefully, he starts to remove himself from Adam’s grip. But as soon as he makes a noticeable motion, Adam frowns in his sleep and reflexively tightens his grip, drawing Kris’ back flat against his chest. Kris does his best to silence a surprised yelp as Adam hugs him close, hooking his leg more securely around his waist, like Kris is a life-sized teddy bear or something.

For a moment, Kris just lies there, debating on whether or not he should wake Adam up. He decides against it and makes another attempt to climb out of bed. Adam’s subconscious simply isn’t having it, though. In one, swift motion, he tightens his hug on Kris and rolls over on top of him. Kris can’t help the grunt that escapes his lungs as the weight of Adam’s body presses down on him.

It’s surprisingly comfortable, when he thinks about it. Sure, he’s having a little trouble breathing in the small space between the mattress and Adam’s body, but they just seem to fit together. He’d think about that point a little more, but air is rapidly becoming an issue. He looks up at Adam, who giggles in his sleep as Kris’ hair feathers over his neck.

Kris wonders what Adam is dreaming about, watching smiles pass almost imperceptibly over his features, but he knows he’ll never ask because he’s always believed in the immutable privacy of dreams. If Adam wants him to know, he’ll tell him, just like a few weeks ago, when Kris himself had had a nightmare. Adam hadn’t asked; he’d merely given Kris a comforting hug in the darkness of their room. And without Kris asking, Adam was talking about a nightmare that he’d had the night before, promising that everyone has bad dreams every now and then, and Kris felt much better about the whole situation.

But now there is not nightmare on Adam’s face, only a beautifully calm look. Kris heaves a sigh. He can’t bring himself to disrupt that look of serenity, but he also realizes that it’ll be awkward for Adam if he wakes up with his roommate in his arms. Adam puts a lot on weight on the personal boundaries of others, and Kris is relatively sure that “spooning one’s roommate” would be a violation of Adam’s personal honor code.

He doesn’t know what to do, because Adam looks content, and he’d feel like a Grade A heel if he woke him up. One the other hand, his chest is starting to hurt, and he’s sure that “collapsed lungs” aren’t something that he wants in a singing competition. Bracing himself for an initial cavalcade of awkward, he gently nudges Adam with his elbow.

“Adam,” he says softly. “I love you, man, but I love oxygen, too.” Adam stirs at the sound of Kris’ voice, and he cuddles against the warm body next to him for half a moment before his entire body tenses up. His eyes flutter open, and the piercing blue immediately finds Kris’ honey brown. For a moment, he stares, first in confusion, then in realization, then in total embarrassment. He does a James Bond-esque tuck-and-roll off of the bed and stumbles backwards, still staring.

“Kris!” he manages to blurt out. “Kris, I’m so sorry! I… What… I am SO sorry!” Kris sits up and rubs at his eyes, epitomizing casual.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Adam,” he reassures. “Seriously, it’s okay. I’m the one that was all over you last night, remember? We’re cool.” Adam runs his fingers through his hair and shakes his head.

“But I was on top of you! I was practically… I mean, if you’d…” To Adam’s surprise, Kris laughs. “What’s so funny?”

“You,” Kris admits. “You get up on stage and strut around in front of millions of viewers every week. But a little spooning with your roommate, and you can’t make a sentence?” To his relief, Adam affords half of a smile.

“So, we’re cool?” he asks. Kris gives him a look that tells him that he shouldn’t have even asked.

“I said that already,” he points out with a shrug. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make some breakfast.” Adam watches as Kris climbs out of the bed and stretches as he walks out of the room. He pauses in the doorway and smiles over his shoulder.

“By the way, you look really peaceful when you sleep.” Adam’s smile widens in response. He waits until he hears Kris’ steps on the staircase before exhaling.

“Too close, Lambert,” he tells himself, trudging off of the bathroom. “Too close.” And yet, the back of his mind tells him that it wasn’t close enough.


Author’s Notes: I am currently glaring murderously at that ending. It just didn’t want to happen, and I’m not satisfied with the end result. Blech.

Anyway, I wasn’t planning on writing this, but the WWI story is proving a little more difficult than I thought it was going to be. And this one kept popping up in my head, so here is the second Bob Dylan-titled installment in the "Awkward Sleeping and Cuddling Fic String."

Note to Self: Come up with a better name for this arc. Perhaps one with less failsauce.

I’m currently working on another fic, which is slightly darker than most of my projects, and I think that the heavier writing style sort of bled into this one. Sorry about that.

Hope you guys enjoy it anyway!

  • Current Music
    Don't Think Twice; It's Alright- Bob Dylan

All Over You

Fic: All Over You
Author: ScruffyBunny
Pairing: Kradam
Rating: PG
Summary: “Kris, it’s late. I’m sleepy. You know? Sleep? That important thing that you should be doing right now?”
Disclaimer: Didn't happen, as far as I know. Don't own.

“Hey, Adam.” Adam picks his head off of the pillow, squinting into the darkness of the room. Kris is bouncing on the end of his bed, grinning widely.

“Yeah, Kris?” Adam’s voice sounds groggy, as well it should because he’s half asleep already. Kris continues to bounce on the edge of the bed.

“We made it, Adam.” Kris’ voice is rife with glee, almost coming out as a squeak. “We made it.”

“Yeah, Kris,” Adam yawns. “We did.” The only reason that he’s not bouncing on his own bed is because he’s so worn out. He wonders how Kris isn’t sleeping.

“Adam!” Kris says again, bouncing more vigorously. “We made it!” Adam nods and pushes himself upright.

“Are you going to be okay, Kris?” he asks. Kris smiles and crosses the room, climbing onto Adam’s bed.

“Kris?” Adam repeats, confused. Kris starts jumping up and down on the mattress, laughing and flailing.

“WE. MADE. IT,” he declares, absolutely giddy. He grabs Adam by the wrists and tugs at his arms, indirectly asking him to join in. “WE MADE IT, ADAM!” Adam can’t help but laugh at how excited his best friend is, but he doesn’t stand up with him.

“Kris, it’s late. I’m sleepy. You know? Sleep? That important thing that you should be doing right now?” Kris ignores him and gives his arms another tug. Adam smirks and pulls his arms back, pulling Kris off balance. Kris continues to giggle excitedly as he topples over, twisting mid-fall so that he doesn’t land on top of Adam. Instead, he crashes into the space next to him, bouncing a few times before settling next to the considerably calmer contestant.

Or, rather, he was calmer. But that was before Kris had climbed onto his bed, plopped down next to him, and snuggled into his side while giggling contentedly. Now he can feel his heart beat a little faster, his palms sweating just enough to make his hands clammy. Kris is oblivious; his laughter becomes breathy as he calms down. He brushes the side of his face against Adam’s forearm as he looks up at his best friend.

“Sorry. I got carried away,” he apologizes sheepishly, curling up as he starts to drift off.

“It’s okay, Kris. You should be excited,” Adam shrugs, repositioning his arm so that it rests under Kris’ head. Kris sighs, and his eyes flutter close despite his best effort to keep them open. Adam lets his head fall back onto his pillow and closes his eyes, amused by how his roommate can go from completely wound up to completely drained in a span of five minutes.

“Adam.” Adam’s eyes snap open at the sound of Kris’ voice, but he doesn’t move. “Adam, we’re staying.” Adam smiles, and it shows in his voice, ruining his attempt at being stern.

“Kristopher, go to sleep.” Kris snorts with laughter and rolls onto his stomach, draping an arm across Adam’s chest in a sleep-addled hug.

“Yes, mom,” he teases. His lips ghost across the skin on Adam’s shoulder, and the taller man fights to repress a shiver. Kris laughs again and cuddles just a little closer, close enough that their bodies are pressed flush against each other.

“You’re sleeping here?” Adam questions, growing a little more nervous as the minutes grow and the space between them shrinks. Kris shrugs.

“Why not?” My bed’s all the way over there,” Kris points over at his bed with his foot. It isn’t more than a few feet away, but Adam lets this fact slide.

“If you drool on me, I’ll throttle you, Allen,” he murmurs in a faux-threatening voice.

“No, you won’t,” Kris replies flatly. Adam raises an eyebrow.

“Fair point,” he confesses. There is another moment of silence, one that Adam doesn’t get to fully enjoy because he’s chanting a mantra to himself (Thou shall not ravage thy roommate. Thou shall not ravage thy roommate. Thou shall not ravage thy roommate.).

“Adam.” Kris’ voice is but a whisper, but it still jolts through Adam’s perception like lightning. He lets out an exasperated sigh just for the theatrics of it.

“Yes, Kris?” he asks, pretending to be annoyed when really he’s rather pleased with this development.

“I miss Matt,” Kris admits under his breath, “but I’m so glad it wasn’t you.” Adam’s heart skips a beat, and his stomach skips doing a flip and heads strait for a full-twisting double back. In the back of his head, he tries to remind himself that Kris’ statement doesn’t have the same connotations that he would like it to have, but the warmth of Kris’ body next to his is intoxicating.

“Yeah, me too, buddy.” Adam thinks the reply is lame, even as he’s saying it.

“I love you, man,” Kris mutters, nuzzling into Adam’s arm. He’s sleeping before Adam can even form a reply, so the older Idol contestant runs his fingers through soft, chestnut hair and stares at the ceiling.

“Dude,” he grumbles as he realizes that he and Kris have completely switched places, and he will not be sleeping any time soon. “That’s so unfair.”


Author’s Notes: Beta’d by an odd combination of Microsoft Word and my confused roommate. I’m totally working on that WWI piece, but I got stuck.

This fic is also eerily reminiscent of the time that my hot-yet-totally-unavailable-to-me friend and I decided that sharing a bed wouldn’t be awkward for either one of us. (We were wrong, if you were wondering.)

Title inspired by Bob Dylan, Adam’s nervousness inspired by my own terrible awkwardness, and Kris’ early onset hyperactivity inspired by Pixy Stix. Questions? Comments? Concerns?

  • Current Music
    All Over You- Bob Dylan

In the Trenches

Fic: In the Trenches
Author: ScruffyBunny
Pairing: Kradam
Rating: PG
Summary: Sometimes, Adam's mind wanders. He can't help it if the competition sometimes reminds him of a battlefield.
Disclaimer: Didn't happen, as far as I know. Don't own.

Sometimes, Adam’s imagination runs away with him, especially where his favorite Arkansan is concerned. He wonders if these thoughts, these outright fantasies(because there really isn’t another word for them), are a betrayal of Kris’ trust. He shakes his head because they can’t be. They’re only day dreams, and it’s not like Adam is consciously controlling them. They crop up when he least expects it, too. Like tonight, as he and Anoop carry a dog-tired and decidedly passed out Kris back to the mansion after the results show.

The high-pitched whistling of falling ammunition pierces the night sky. Adam adjusts his helmet, glancing back over his shoulder.

“Germans are getting better at this,” he comments loudly, though his comrade can barely hear him over the exploding bombs.

“Then we should probably get the lead out, sir!” In his conscious, he wonders why he’s given Anoop a British accent. Probably something to do with preconceived notions of a colonized India that meshes with the period-piece that is his daydream.

“For the last time, Private Desai, don’t call me sir!” he responds with a laugh. “And we’re going as fast as we can!”

“Colonel Lambert,” the address is groaned out, as if it causes the speaker a fair amount of pain. Adam looks down at the man they’re carrying between them. “Colonel, just leave me. I’m slowing you down.”

“None of that, Major Allen,” Anoop pipes up with a smile. “We don’t leave men behind.”

“Besides,” Adam grins, despite the fact that hell is blossoming around them. “You barely weigh ten pounds. Not that much of a hindrance, Major.” As soon as they’re safely out of range, they head towards a medical tent. One of the nurses ducks out to meet them.

“What happened?” she asks, her voice sounding hoarse from shouting.

“Got caught on the edge of an explosion. I think he’s got some broken ribs,” Adam debriefs. “Can you help him, Nurse Iraheta?” She holds the tent open for them as they enter and ushers them to an empty stretcher.

“He looks like he’ll be okay,” she surmises, pressing gently on Kris’ ribcage. Kris moans in response. “The good news is that his ribs aren’t broken. But they’re heavily bruised, and he looks concussed. He’ll be out of action for a few days.”

“No! Damn it, man!” a doctor shouts from across the make-shift hospital tent.

“What’s wrong?” Anoop whispers, nodding towards the doctor. “I’ve never seen Doctor Giraud lose it like that.” The nurse’s expression dims slightly, and she purses her lips.

“He just lost Private MacIntyre.” They allow themselves a moment to grieve.

“He was a good man,” another nurse comments as she passes.

“He was that, Nurse Lil,” Adam agrees, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. The flap of the tent rips open, and a courier stumbles in, glasses crooked on his face.

“News from General Cowell,” he pants, holding out said message.

“Thanks, Private Gokey.” Adam takes the letter from him, scanning it quickly. For the benefit of everyone else in the room, Danny straightens up and announces its contents.

“It’s going to be movie night!” Adam snaps out of it, and suddenly he’s standing outside of the bedroom he and Kris share. Kris is sprawled across his bed, and Allison is pulling his shoes off while Lil drapes a blanket over him. Matt peeks out of his own bedroom, toothbrush balanced carefully in his mouth.

“Dibs on that rainbow song!” he says around a mouth full of toothpaste. He retreats to finish brushing his teeth, and suddenly everyone is buzzing about song choices.

“Adam, are you alright?” Danny asks. “You look out of it.” Adam grins and claps a hand on Danny’s shoulder.

“Just tired, man,” he explains, to which Danny nods.

“Tell me about it,” he laughs, trudging off to his own bedroom.


Author’s Notes: So, I’m not gonna lie. I was listening to my American Idol playlist while looking at promo pictures for Tarantino’s new film, Inglorious Basterds. And then an AU popped into my head. But I didn’t want to commit to an AU just yet, so I made it a daydream sort of thing.

I might expand on this one. Maybe. It all depends on my mental state after tomorrow night. (Not gonna lie, I voted for two straight hours and wound up running the battery down on my phone. Glad they don’t charge you to call in, or I’d be in trouble.)

  • Current Music
    Heartless- Kris Allen


Fic: Elementary
Author: ScruffyBunny
Pairing: Kradam
Rating: PG
Summary: In which Anoop is a detective, Adam is still a giggler, and Kris finds himself in a compromising position. No, I haven't been reading Sherlock Holmes lately. (Okay, yes, I have.) Companion piece to "That Kid."
Disclaimer: Didn't happen, as far as I know. Don't own.

The hide and seek games somehow become a regular thing, and Kris isn’t about to tell anyone how much he looks forward to them. He is pretty sure they’d all get a kick out of how much he enjoys playing a children’s game. Adam looks forward to the game, too, but for an entirely different set of reasons from Kris.

It’s just after the show, and Anoop is worried about his performance the one wrong note clunking over and over in his head. So he puts his head down on the counter and starts counting, and no one has to ask. They just start moving. Adam opens the sliding door and shuts it again, using the noise as a red herring as he tiptoes to the lounge. He army crawls under the over-sized sofa and holds his breath, trying not to giggle.

It doesn’t work very well, and he isn’t surprised when Anoop pokes his head under the sofa and manages a half-smile.

“Nice trick with the door, but Kris was right. You’re that kid.” Adam waves off the comment and holds a hand out. Anoop takes it and helps pulls his friend out from the sofa’s maniacal clutches. “Want to help me look?”

“Sure,” Adam shrugs, putting his hands in his pockets. He follows Anoop out of the lounge and into the kitchen and watches the college graduate’s movement as he surveys the seemingly empty main room. It’s very Sherlock Holmes, the way that Anoop composes himself.

“I say, Holmes,” Adam comments in a British accent, “What details may you surmise from the state of this room?” Anoop laughs and adopts an accent of his own.

“Elementary, my dear Lambert,” he begins, touting an imaginary pipe. “I can safely say that,” he pauses and turns to the pantry.

“Gokey’s in the pantry.” At first, there isn’t a response, and Adam chuckles.

“Ok, maybe you’re no Sherlock,” he comments. Anoop is unfazed and pushes the pantry door open. Danny has a fist shoved in his mouth, a clear byproduct of his effort to not laugh.

“Am I it?” he asks. Adam shakes his head.

“Nope. He found me first,” he owns up. He nudges Anoop in the arm. “Holmes, the hours grows late. Shall we continue the chase?”

“Quite,” Anoop replies with a nod, heading out of the kitchen and into the foyer. Danny follows, wondering why Adam and Anoop are using accents all of a sudden.

“Holmes?” he whispers to Adam. Adam smiles and puts an arm around Danny’s shoulder.

“Sir, do you mean to say that you’ve never heard of the great Sherlock Holmes? This great, analytical mind that will stop at nothing to seek any and all hiders in this illustrious mansion?” Adam waves his arm imperially, and Anoop responds with an exaggerated bow.

“My dear Lambert, you do my skills too much justice,” he comments. “Now, Inspector Gregson, if you care to know, I hear the door closing after you when you retreated to your hiding place. The door made three separate noises, indicating that it was a swinging door. And given the time between my counting and the noisy door, I could only conclude that you came here.” Adam has to admit that he’s not sure who Inspector Gregson is, but he makes a note to google him later. Anyway, Anoop seems to really enjoy the metaphor.

They find Matt in the coat closet in the foyer.

“Ah, there you are, Inspector Hopkins,” Anoop announces. “Next time, try not to get into a fight with the coats when you want to hide here.” Matt laughs, adopting an accent without questioning it.

“Mr Holmes, I presume?” he asks. Adam nods. “I suspect that the ruffling cloth alerted you to my position?”

“Too right, Inspector,” Anoop confirms. “Now, if you’ll kindly follow me upstairs, I believe that I can accurately locate Miss Irene Adler.” Danny gives Adam and Matt a confused look. Matt leans in.

“That’s Allison,” he explains.


A few minutes later, after Anoop explains that Allison’s heels clicked when she went up the stairs and that it was only a matter of following the imprints in the carpet from there, they’re all piled onto the bed in Sarver’s old room, where Allison had been hiding.

“Anoop, that’s insane,” she comments, still awestruck. “You’re like the real deal, dude!” Anoop chuckles and rubs at the back of his neck.

“Or maybe you guys just suck at this game,” he suggest jokingly. Matt hits him in the face with a pillow for his troubles.

“Holmes,” he says with a smile. “There is one mystery that remains unsolved.”

“And what would that be, Inspector Hopkins?” Anoop asks.

“Where is our Mister Allen?” Anoop’s eyes widen at the question.

“Oops,” he mutters. There is a moment where they exchange guilty looks for not realizing that they hadn’t found Kris yet, but this moment is quickly interrupted by a mass exodus from the bedroom.

“Kris?” Anoop calls over the balcony. “Dude, you can come out!” No response.

“Did he hide outside?” Danny suggests. “I heard someone open the sliding door.”

“No, that was me,” Adam pipes up, opening every closest in the hallway. “He’s not up here.”

“He’s not in the bedrooms,” Allison announces, closing the last door behind her.

“He’s good,” Matt commends. “You’ve got to give him that. He’s good. And he’s small. He could be anywhere.”

“Kris, seriously!” Allison calls out. “You can come out now!”

“The dumbwaiter,” Anoop blurts out. “I thought I heard it, but I thought that maybe someone was using it.” They rush to the door on the dumbwaiter and fling it open. And then they realize with some degree of horror why Kris had yet to reveal himself.

“Guys?” Kris’ voice sounds muffled, which only makes sense, considering that the dumbwaiter is several feet down, stuck in between the first and second floor. “Guys, I don’t want to alarm you.” Of course you don’t, Adam sighs inwardly.

“I think it’s stuck,” Kris finishes lamely. “And not to complain or anything, but it’s getting kind of cramped in here.” There’s the light sound of scuffling, and Kris pushes the small hatch on top of the dumbwaiter, looking up at his friends from the small grate.

“We’ll go get help!” Anoop says, rushing to the phone. Danny and Matt follow him.

“I’ll go get a fan,” Allison promises, knowing that it’s got to be hot, and Kris could use some fresh air. Adam goes to follow his surrogate sister, but Kris calls out after him.

“Adam, wait!” Adam skids to a stop and back steps. “Can you… Can you stay with me?” Kris looks like he’s embarrassed to ask, but Adam fixes him with an easy smile.

“Of course, Mrs Watson.” Kris raises an eyebrow at him, and Adam raises his hands defensively. “What? All of the other characters I know were taken!”

“Even Moriarty?” Kris asks. Adam briefly considers biting back his comment, but he figures that it would help Kris to laugh at the situation.

“Kris, honey, don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think that evil masterminds get stuck in dumbwaiters.” As predicted, Kris laughs, albeit sheepishly.

“I’m glad that the camera crew isn’t here for this,” he points out. “But I’m sure that Seacrest will find out.”

“Yeah, probably,” Adam agrees. “But we can totally play this down. Don’t worry.” Allison returns with the fan, which she plugs into an outlet in the hallway and angles down the dumbwaiter shaft.

“Thanks, Allison,” Kris calls up, trying to shift a little.

“Do you need anything else?” Adam asks, prepared to go on a snack run.

“Just stay here,” Kris repeats. Adam nods.

“Okay. I’ll stay.”


The electrician replaces the blown fuse, wondering why the group of singers is so eager to get the dumbwaiter working again. He excuses himself from the scene, figuring that he’ll find out details later. Whatever the reason, they gather around the dumbwaiter and let out an explosive cheer when it lowers to the first floor.

“Kids,” the electrician rolls his eyes and closes the door behind him.

“That was the worst idea I’ve ever had,” Kris blushes, wriggling out of the enclosed space. Unfortunately, he’s been sitting in the same position for quite some time, and his legs aren’t ready to respond like he wants. Adam catches him as he spills out of the dumbwaiter.

“Easy, champ,” he warns, standing Kris up. Kris is upright for half a second before his legs give out again. Adam catches him again, pulling him into a tight hug to keep him standing. (Yeah, keeping telling yourself that, Adam, he thinks).

“I think I need help getting to the room,” Kris admits.

“Yeah, I’m on it,” Adam announces, stooping slightly so that Kris can lean on his shoulder. As they walk down the hall, Kris laughs softly.

“What?” Adam asks.

“I won,” Kris declares in a sing-song voice.

  • Current Music
    Tracks of My Tears- Adam Lambert

Things that Go Thump in the Night

Fic: Things that Go Thump in the Night
Author: ScruffyBunny
Pairing: Kradam
Rating: PG
Summary: In which Adam hears a noise and goes to investigate. Apparently, I am full of ridiculous today. And, yeah, I backdated this one because I still miss Anoop. Pathetic fan is pathetic. As for the ninjas... don't ask.
Disclaimer: Didn't happen, as far as I know. Don't own.

Adam looks up from the TV.

“Did you hear that?” he asks, eyebrows knitting together as he strains to hear. Allison slides her headphones off and cocks her head to the side.

“You say something, Adam?” she asks. Adam grins and waves dismissively. He pushes himself off of the ground and straightens his clothing as he goes to investigate. Matt and Anoop are following him before he knows it.

“Sounded like someone jumping,” Anoop says analytically, ever the attentive college kid. Matt nods in agreement.

“Maybe there are ninjas fighting upstairs!” he chips in, and Adam thinks that the Michigan native is only half joking. There’s another noise, and Adam holds up a hand, stopping the others dead in their tracks. And I thought that only worked in movies, Adam thinks with a smile as he walks to the nearest room. He presses his ear to the door and listens.

“Empty,” he declares. “You two start at the other end of the hall. We’ll cover more ground if we split up.” Matt and Anoop exchange glances before rifling off mock salutes and walking away. Adam starts walking to the next door, but as soon as the younger men are far enough away, he returns to the first door and quietly opens it.

Kris is jumping on the bed, in time with the Queen song on the radio. Adam watches curiously as Kris, completely unaware of his new audience, sings along with Freddie Mercury.

“Recommended at the price, insatiable in appetites. Wanna try?” His voice dances gracefully across the falsetto melody, but that isn’t what Adam had heard. What Adam had heard was probably the thumping of Kris’ body against the mattress, now evidenced as he goes into full air-guitar mode, allowing himself to fall back onto the bed. He writhes amongst the sheets as he plays his pretend instrument, grinding out Brian May’s guitar line on an imaginary fretboard. He quickly gets back on his feet, jumping some more as the song progresses.

“Drop of a hat, she’s as willing as and playful as a pussy cat. Then, momentarily out of action, temporarily out of gas. She’ll absolutely drive you---“ At this point, Kris does a twisting jump, turning towards Adam as he continues to shred on his air-guitar. He notices his friend leaning in the doorway, and the surprise causes him to freeze up. He lands unceremoniously on the bed, the springs squeaking in protest as he bobs up and down in the aftershocks of his jumping.

“Hey, Adam,” he says casually, trying to play off the entire situation. Adam can practically hear the record-scratching noise that they play in the background in movies, and this only broadens his smile.

“What’s up, Kris?” he asks, in the spirit of being casual. Kris is spared having to answer when Anoop and Matt poke their heads into the room.

“We didn’t find any ninjas,” Matt announces.

“I thought you said this room was empty,” Anoop raises an eyebrow. Adam shrugs.

“I thought it was, but it turns out that Kris was taking a nap,” he explains smoothly, waving an arm at the rumpled sheets on the bed. Kris doesn’t trust himself to actually say anything, so he just nods.

“Did you hear anything up here, Kris?” Anoop asks.

“Any ninjas?” Matt specifies, drawing a chuckle from Adam. Kris shakes his head.

“Nope. I was sleeping,” he says flatly. “But I’ll totally let you know if I see any ninjas.” Matt seems satisfied with this, but Anoop doesn’t.

“Come on. It’s going to bother me if I don’t figure this out. And don’t say ninjas,” he warns Matt, walking wearily out to continue his investigation. Matt follows, saying something about how the mansion may be haunted. Adam can hear Anoop’s exasperated groan fade as they go downstairs.

“Thanks for that,” Kris blushes. “It’s… Thanks, man.”

“No problem,” Adam returns. “This should provide me with endless entertainment.”

Later at dinner, Kris nearly chokes on his garlic bread when he hears Adam humming “Killer Queen” while he reaches for more spaghetti.

  • Current Music
    Wipe It Away- Kris Allen

That Kid

Fic: That Kid
Author: ScruffyBunny
Pairing: Kradam
Rating: PG
Summary: Complete crack, because I was playing hide and seek today and realized that I am "that kid."
Disclaimer: Didn't happen, as far as I know. Don't own.

They’re playing hide and seek, which sounds childish, but it’s actually pretty fun because they’re in a mansion. Matt puts his head down and starts counting, and they all start scrambling, except for Lil, who is content to sit on the couch and read her magazine and pretend that she’s not amused by the game around her.

Kris is padding down the hall, a few steps behind Anoop. Anoop glances over his shoulder with a smile before climbing into the dumbwaiter. Kris is caught between being annoyed, because he had had the same idea, and being impressed, because he didn’t think that Anoop could squeeze into the relatively small space. He can hear Matt counting and pushes the thought aside, heading up the stairs in search of a new spot.

A hand grabs him by the shoulder and jerks him to the side, pulling him into one of the linen closets. Adam is giggling at the shocked look on his friend’s face.

“Sorry. You looked like you needed help, and Matt’s almost done counting,” he whispers, just as Matt shouts “READY OR NOT!” from downstairs. Kris nods.

“Thanks. Now stop giggling,” he hisses under his breath. Games always bring out the more competitive side in the shorter man, and he doesn’t want to get caught just because Adam can’t stop laughing.

“I can’t help it,” Adam manages between giggles. Kris rolls his eyes.

“Oh no,” he moans quietly. “You’re that kid.” Adam raises an eyebrow, grin still dancing across his features.

“What do you mean by that?” he asks, honest-to-blog curious. Kris gestures with his arm, as if what he just said was perfectly obvious.

“You’re that kid,” he repeats. “You know! That kid that always laughs for no reason and gets caught every time. That kid.” This inspires an entirely new fit of giggles from Adam.

“Kris, it’s a game. A game typically played by small children,” he points out, taking a shot at serious before losing it again. Kris shushes him, which only makes things worse, and he swears up and down that he can hear Matt coming up the stairs. He very nearly pouts up at Adam, who decides that he’s amused by how seriously Kris is taking this game. “Don’t get me wrong, though. I think your dedication is adorable.”

“Come on, Adam! Be quiet!” Kris pleads.

“Make me,” Adam challenges, still giggling. Kris clamps a hand over his mouth, which Adam promptly licks. Kris reflexively pulls away. Adam lets out a fresh wave of laughter. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that, Kristoph---“

And suddenly, Kris rises to the challenge, gets up on his tiptoes, and kisses him full on the mouth. Adam’s heart flutters in his chest, and blood pounds in his ears, and he’s not giggling any more. Matt trots noisily down the hallway, passing the linen closet, and Kris pulls away when he’s sure the piano player hasn’t found them. Adam’s world is still spinning a little bit when Kris takes his hand in his own and peeks out of the closet.

“Alright. On the count of three, we head for home base. The stair case is most direct, but Matt’ll probably see us. So we’re going to have to run okay?” Adam nods the whole time, but he doesn’t hear a word because all he can think is, “You’re that kid, Kris. The one that is oblivious to how hard the little girls on the playground are crushing on you. That kid.” Adam is pulled from his next thought (“Since when do you compare yourself to a little girl on a playground, Lambert?”) when Kris counts to three and starts running.

They slide into home base, where Kris immediately goes into a awkward-but-cute victory dance, and Adam starts laughing again. Lil peeks over her magazine and smiles.

“You guys are worse than my kids,” she comments affectionately. “Adam, I’d never have pegged you as the giggler.”

“Yeah,” Adam grins in reply. “Apparently, I’m that kid.” But then he remembers the kiss, and he doesn’t mind being “that kid” at all.

  • Current Music
    I've Been Played- Kris Allen