They arrive at their final destination after twenty-four hours, three different planes, a boat trip and a car ride that made Kris feel extremely nauseous, only to have it be morning again. Kris thinks it's extremely unfair and he's so far beyond tired he can't even admire the breathtaking scenery, or Adam, who is certainly breathtaking in his own right, being more chipper and awake than he has any right to be after their hellacious journey.
"This place is amazing," Adam says, opening the glass doors that lead to a huge sun deck facing the beach.
The ocean shimmers turquoise below them and the fine sand of the beach is so light it's almost white. It looks like something out of a dream and Kris really wishes he was sleeping right now.
"Wow, look at this kitchen."
Kris carefully puts one foot in front of the other and follows in Adam's wake. The kitchen is indeed fantastic with floor made of uneven stone tiles (Kris bets they're a bitch to clean) and walls of the same kind but with lighter pieces of stone set into odd patterns. The cupboards and cabinets are painted a light turquoise and the kitchen table with its mismatched chairs are scuffed and white. A huge bouquet of pink roses sits in a vase on the table, it looks like it's moving, but that might just be the way Kris's eyes keep crossing.
Somewhere behind him Adam squeals with joy. Kris hopes that means he's found a bed and carefully turns himself around to trail after Adam once again. Adam didn't find a bed, he found a walk-in closet, and Kris is sure it's awesome but he's not even going to look at it. Adam can spend as many hours as he wants arranging his clothes according to texture while Kris sleeps.
"Oooh, bedroom," Adam says from further down the hall and Kris immediately perks up.
Bedroom means bed, means sleep, and Kris is now a man with a mission.
"This bed looks awesome," Adam narrates, voice muffled by something Kris couldn't care less about because there's a bed and it's close.
"Oh my God, look at this bathroom," Adam's voice reverberates off the bathroom walls. Bathrooms always have the weirdest acoustics.
Kris walks into the master bedroom and spots the bed. It's huge. It's amazing. It's covered in rose petals. In the bathroom water starts running and Adam says something about the tub, supposedly it's amazing. Kris faceplants onto the bed, limbs spread out everywhere and feet hanging off the edge. It's clearly the best bed ever.
"Baby, where are… Oh…" Adam trails off, and Kris assumes Adam's watching his sprawl or maybe his ass. He really couldn't care less. If Adam wants to do things to his ass, he'll have to do them while Kris sleeps, possibly for a day or two. He thinks about saying so but that would mean forming words and he's just too tired for that.
"But it's morning," Adam whines, as if that actually means anything.
Maybe it does mean something to international rockstars who are used to jetsetting all over the world and know how to sleep for more than five minutes at a time on an airplane. The kind of international rockstars that don't care about their husbands being wide awake and bored out of their minds and who don't realize that watching them sleep is not enough amusement to last for twenty-four hours.
The bed dips with Adam's weight, and Kris manages a little sound. It means do whatever you want to my ass I'm gonna sleep, he hopes that Adam got that.
"You shouldn't sleep in your clothes," Adam says softly and then there are hands on Kris's body.
They might be initiating sexual acts, Kris isn't sure, but he still makes an effort to move in the directions Adam pulls him until he's down to nothing but his underwear. They're the same boxer briefs he put on forever ago, in what feels like another life by now, and that's probably all kinds of gross, but Kris is sure they'll hold up for a little bit of sleep mostly because he's too tired to kick them off.
With Adam's help he scoots up the bed until his head hits the pillows and then he's being pulled back against Adam's chest. Kris has never been the little spoon before, but it's really kind of amazing.
"Mrgh," he says. It roughly translates to: I love you, and if I just get a few days of sleep I swear I'll be better company.
Adam chuckles against Kris's hair and flattens a hand over his chest, pulling him closer. "Sleep, love," he murmurs. "We'll explore when you wake up."
Kris tries to formulate a comprehensive answer, one that includes actual vowels, but he falls asleep before he can. Maybe his heart will beat the message in Morse code into Adam's palm while he sleeps. I love you. You make me happy. I want to be with you always. Your ability to sleep on planes really sucks. You're cute when you sleep though.