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September 11th, 2009

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.


I write dreams; I scheme schemes.

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