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In My Pocket

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Kris shows up to Adam's room the afternoon after the GMAs mainly to say goodbye and to be fake-melodramatic about not seeing him for the next 48 hours. Adam answers the door in black pants and nothing else, his eye makeup smudged to high heaven. "Oh," he says, when he sees Kris on the other side, and Kris shakes his head, biting his lip to keep from laughing. "Shut up and come inside," Adam mutters, and Kris follows him in. Kris sticks his hands in his pockets and grins, surveying the room slowly while Adam stands by the door with his arms crossed. The bed is a mess, and Adam's shirt is flung over a lamp in the far corner.

"Niiice," Kris drawls and Adam huffs out a laugh, eyes closing.

"Don't even," he says, and Kris is just about to drop it - making fun of Adam about random hookups gets kind of monotonous after a while - when there's another knock. Adam looks through the peephole this time and Kris can see the line of his body go stock still. Kris cocks his head to one side and crosses his arms. This is going to be good. Adam takes a deep breath and opens the door again.

"Hey," David says, and... wow. Kris really, really didn't see that coming. "I think this is your phone." He holds up an iPhone that is, obviously, identical to Adam's, and Kris thinks maybe he's reading this all wrong. But then David spots him over Adam's shoulder, and says "...Oh."

"Hi," Kris says, and can't help the grin that's tugging at the corner of his mouth as Adam brushes past him to grab the other phone from the nightstand.

"Hi," David says, and rocks a few times on the balls of his feet.

"Good show this morning," Kris says, and Adam smacks him on the shoulder as he walks past, but David just laughs. Adam hands the phone to David and tucks his in the back pocket of his pants. He rests his hip on the open door.

"I'll see you around," David says to Kris, eyes still crinkling at the edges, and when he turns to Adam he just says "Call me" in that cool, sexy way that Kris was never able to master in college.

"Absolutely," Adam says, just a little smoky, but mostly friendly and sweet, and Kris is still trying not to laugh as he closes the door.

"Seriously, don't," he says, pointing a finger at Kris as he turns around.

"Well, at least now you can cross 'sleep with the American Idol' off your list, though I'll be sad to see you stop trying so hard with me," he jokes, and Adam glares at him.


"I didn't know he was gay," Kris says the next day. He and Adam are sprawled in the back lounge of the bus while the others head to some mall. Adam's fingers are pushing through Kris's hair, nails scratching lightly over the back of Kris's scalp, pushing and pulling little strands of hair through his fingers. It's a weird thing he started doing when they shared a room, his random attempts at fixing Kris's flyaway haircuts devolving into impromptu neck massages. Kris tolerates it pretty well. Okay, maybe tolerates is the wrong word.

Adam glances down at him, pressing his thumbs into the back of Kris's neck until he groans. "He's not."

Kris snorts, his eyes fluttering closed.

"He's... heteroflexible," Adam says with a grin.

"So he's slutty," Kris replies, and Adam leans against him with a laugh.

"Well, that too." They watch another few minutes of television in an easy quiet, Adam's fingers pressing and kneading. Then, "He'd actually never hooked up with a guy before Idol."

"Really?" Kris says, and he's not actually sure he needs to know the details of David Cook's sex life, but that has never stopped Adam in the past.

"First guy he ever hooked up with was Conrad, from the lighting department."

"Conrad the lighting tech turned David Cook gay?" Kris asks, a little incredulous. He remembers that guy - nice guy, tight jeans, a little too obviously flirty but... kind of a dork.

"Conrad the lighting tech opened up a world of possibilities," Adam replies, his voice dripping with innuendo as his knuckles press into a sore spot. Kris hisses.

"So basically, Conrad the lighting tech made him realize there was a whole group of people he could be having sex with, who he wasn't."

Adam shrugs. "Basically, yeah." Kris laughs. "Hey, you should take notes on that," he adds and Kris smacks him on the thigh.


"Anything exciting happen since the last time you saw me?" Katy asks. She's tucked up against him in their big hotel bed, her back warm and bare under his fingers, toes wriggling against his calf.

Kris shrugs and tucks one arm under his head. They're both floating in that space between wired and blissed out. It's been three weeks since they've seen each other this time, and Kris is damn sure he's not going to get any sleep before bus call tomorrow. "I sang a couple shows for fifteen, twenty thousand people," he says. "They seemed to like it okay."

Katy fake yawns against him. "Booooring. Tell me something I don't already know, rockstar. Tell me the juicy stuff."

Kris laughs. "Ummm," he says, pretending to think about it. There's really only one decently juicy story to tell. "Adam slept with David Cook?"

Katy's head shoots up, her eyes wide. "No."

Kris nods, smug. His gossip is never gossipy enough for her, and he was saving this one so he could see her reaction. "Yup."

"I didn't know David was gay!" Kris laughs. "It's always the hot ones," she sighs and he pinches her hip lightly. "Ow!"

"Apparently he's heteroflexible," Kris says, mimicking Adam's inflection, and she giggles.

"That's Adam speak for 'easy' isn't it," she says.

"Pretty much," Kris nods. She trails her fingers down his chest.

"Hey, if you ever want to sleep with David Cook, that's fine," she says, her voice low and flirty. "You just better send me pictures."

Kris laughs and rolls her over on the mattress, pinning her wrists to the bed. "We're adding him to the list now?" he asks, and Katy tilts her head thoughtfully. Kris takes the opportunity to lean down and kiss her neck, lets his teeth scrape over her clavicle.

"The list needs updating anyway," she gasps.


She sends it in a card the next week, and Kris laughs, cheeks red, before he tucks it in his wallet behind his AAA card.


"It wasn't in the original contract," Kris says into the phone, low enough that the rest of the bus can't hear him. "They want to add it in as a clause."

"Yeah, they tried that with me too," David says on the other end of the line. "It's not a bad deal, unless the back end is actually more than you're thinking it will be."

He'd had David's number since the finale, but had only starting really talking to him recently, as his winner's contract got tweaked and prodded at. David's a total goofball, but his head for business rivals even Adam's. "Did you take it?" Kris asks, because he pretty much understands the legalese of the addendum but he really wants a second opinion.

"No, because I am a cocky motherfucker who was sure I'd go triple platinum," David says, and Kris can hear his grin. "And honestly? I might have made a little money if I'd taken it, but I don't see the point in going into your first album with a clause that assumes your second album is going to do worse. That is a self-esteem killer, my friend."

"Good point," Kris laughs, and Adam sticks his head around the corner.

"You talking to Cook about the thing?" he asks, and Kris nods. "Good. Tell him I say hi."

"Adam says he misses your sweet ass," Kris says, totally straight-faced, and he can barely make out David's cackling laugh as Adam wrestles the phone away from him.


Adam barely makes it for bus call in Cleveland. He's a little disheveled, the collar of his jacket turned under, his shirt untucked. Danny and Matt hoot as he climbs quickly onto the bus, and Adam flips them off, grinning.

Sarver pokes his head out from the bunks. "What's going on?" he asks, and Scott says "You don't want to know."

"Was he cute?" Kris asks, leaning back against the couch.

"Duuude," Anoop says, shaking his head. "That's not -"

"Honey, they're always cute," Adam replies with a sweep of his arm, and goes to take off what's left of his makeup in their tiny bathroom.


"So," Kris asks, because he's been wondering, just a little. Adam looks up from where he's sitting on the other bed, laptop open on his knees. "You and Drake." Adam's eyebrows go up a tiny fraction. "Do you guys have, like, an exceptions list?"

Adam tips his head back with a laugh. "Oh, God, um," he starts, and Kris leans back against his own pillows, waiting. He loves flustering Adam, just a little bit. "Drake and I have more of an... understanding?" he says finally, a sheepish smile creeping across his face. "We're cool, if that's--"

"Yeah, no, I was just wondering," Kris cuts in, and Adam nods. Kris looks back at the TV.

A minute later, Adam says, "Hmm. So," and Kris knows that tone of voice; the sly grin Adam shoots him makes Kris brace for impact. "You and Katy have a list, huh?"

Kris blinks. "Um. No?" he says, but just a fraction too late, and Adam is clicking his computer shut with a gleeful shriek.

"Who's on it? Spill."

"Dude," Kris says, and Adam says, "Duuuude," and Kris buries his face in his hands.

He can feel the bed dip when Adam sits down next to him, and then Adam is knocking him in the shoulder, pulling his hands away. "Stop, oh my God," Kris says, laughing through the blush that's spreading over his cheeks.

"Angelina Jolie is on your list, isn't she," Adam states with certainty and Kris gives him a look.

"Angelina Jolie is on everyone's list."

"Yes, obviously," Adam says with an eye roll. "Who else?"

"Adammmmm," Kris whines, and Adam's mouth opens wide in mock surprise.

"Me? I'm on your list? Kristopher, I am so...," but he trails off, and Kris manages to register that his face has gone from mildly embarrassed to mortified. He tries to school it back into something not so incriminating, but Adam is still staring at him, eyes wide. "Kris?"

"I didn't make it!" Kris states, his voice rising. "Katy sent me the list, she made it up and put my name on it!"

"Oh my ACTUAL GOD," Adam says, and he's laughing so hard Kris isn't sure he's still breathing. "It really exists! I want to see it, come on, come on!"

Kris has only one option here. Adam doesn't let things go. Adam is still making comments about that time with Anoop and the girl he may or may not have slept with on a homecoming float and that joke started back in Week Seven. So basically Kris has no recourse but to open his wallet, toss Katy's handmade card at Adam, and flee to the bathroom in the hopes that Adam's curiosity will be satisfied and he'll let it drop.

He's sitting on the lid of the toilet, elbows resting on his knees, when Adam knocks.


"It's laminated." There's no mistaking the hitch in Adam's voice as he tries to keep himself from losing it again.

"Katy's crafty."



"You know Cook's on this list, right? Just under me."

"You know that's a really good opening, if I was in the mood," Kris bites back. Then, "It's a new list. Since we became friends."

"Ahhh," Adam says through the door. "Kris?"

Kris just groans and rests his head in his hands.

"Mandy Moore is number one. That's... Why is there a star next to her name?"

"Because," Kris says, standing up and opening the door to face his fate, "I can't sleep with Mandy Moore unless Katy is there."

"Oooh," Adam says, his eyebrows going up. "Jealousy issues?"

"No, dude, I told you, Katy made up the list. One of us has a crush on Mandy Moore, and it's not me."

Adam's face is priceless, and Kris hopes that bit of information is distracting enough.


It's clearly not distracting enough.

"You should so put that girl on your list," Adam says low in his ear after a meet and greet where a particularly enthusiastic fan offered Kris a hundred dollars to blow him.

"Eh, too bad the list is full. Already have my five, or she might just be in luck," Kris says with an exaggerated shrug.

"Yeah, but one of those is clearly not serious," Adam replies and Kris says, "Wait, which one?"

"Barack Obama? Come on," Adam laughs and Kris shakes his head slowly.

"Don't let my wife hear you say that. We had sex six times on election night, and I'm pretty sure it had very little to do with me."

Adam's laugh is loud enough that Allison comes over from the girl's dressing room to ask what's so funny.


"Mandy Moore, huh?" Adam says in the elevator of the hotel, the next time Katy meets up with them on tour. Her eyes go huge, and Kris bites his lip. "Her mouth is pretty epic," Adam concedes.

"I know, right?" Katy sighs, and Kris collapses against the elevator door, laughing.


"Hey," David's voice is loud in his ear, and Kris can hear the telltale sound of a huge crowd somewhere in his vicinity. "You almost ready for this shit to be over? We still on for beers?"

"Yeah, absolutely," Kris says, a little louder than he usually likes to. Matt looks over from the couch and frowns. "Sorry," Kris mouths. They're rolling into their last week of shows, and everyone's a little testy about noise on the bus.

"Awesome!" David says. He's got a week off in LA in September just after the Idol tour ends, and he and David and Adam all booked on the same floor at the Regency thanks to the folks at 19E.

David finds a quieter spot and Kris goes to his bunk, shutting the curtain to muffle the conversation. They spend a few minutes catching up, talking shop in a way that makes Kris feel stupidly giddy, like holy crap, this is my life kind of giddy, talking about recording and tour dates overseas and guitar pedals with David Cook. "Anyway, I will see you in a few weeks, my man," David says finally.

"Can't wait," Kris says, and there's a pregnant pause on the other end of the line. Oh, shit, Kris thinks.

"We'll have a really great time," David says, and Kris closes his eyes in embarrassment. "If Katy's around, I think I know Mandy Moore's agent..."

"Son of a bitch," he says, chuckling because David is clearly having a hilarious time with this.

"ADAM," he yells when he hangs up, and he can hear Adam's cackle from the front lounge.

"What's so funny?" Sarver asks from his bunk, looking up from his sudoku puzzles.

"Always better not to ask," Danny says, patting him on the shoulder as he walks past.


"I mean, it's not like it's a real list," Kris says to Katy later that night, tucked up in his hotel room bed with his cell phone while Adam takes a shower.

"Do you want it to be a real list?" she asks, and he presses his face into his pillow.

"No, that's. Not really? I don't know." He thinks about meeting with David tomorrow, and about David's increasingly flirty text messages - all of which he had forwarded to his wife. He thinks about Adam's flirty everything and how much he's going to miss him after next week, when Adam moves into his new swanky apartment and they both have to scramble to finish their albums and won't be living on top of each other every day.

"Well," she says, and there's a long pause where he's not sure what she's thinking. "I'll just put it this way, then. That's a list of my exceptions for you, and it's a totally real list when it comes to that. People where, if it happened, I wouldn't be mad."

"Okay?" Kris says, because he's not sure how he's supposed to feel about that. Adam starts singing something in the shower, and Kris's stomach flips a little and he burrows further under the covers.

"It's just a matter of whether anyone on the list is someone you'd actually want to sleep with. Then, yeah. I guess it's a real list." She sounds sleepy, and just a little thoughtful; he can picture her in their tiny apartment in Conway, smiling around a mug of tea.

"Katy," he sighs, and wishes she were here to talk some sense into him. Or some courage. She's always had more of both than he did.

"So...," she starts, "have a beer with him, let him make out with you, see if he really knows Mandy's agent. That is totally important, Kristopher."

"You suck so hard," he laughs down the line.


"Hey," David says when Kris shows up at the bar. They opted for the one in the hotel so as not to freak out their respective security teams and David got them a table in a back corner, away from the not-so-prying eyes of the six other patrons. David had also gotten them a pitcher of something dark and frothy.

"Wow, this place kind of sucks," Kris says with a grin, picking up the really expensive glass and pouring himself a beer. "Couldn't find a decent dive bar in LA?"

"Hey, baby, only the best for you," David replies with a easy grin, and slides into the chair next to him. David's got a second leg of his tour to go, and they talk for a while about how much he wants to play Europe again soon, and how annoying it is that the Kings of Leon won't return David's phone calls about a tour. "Stupid American Idol shit always brands me as uncool. I am so not uncool!" he exclaims, knocking back the rest of his beer. They're already down to the bottom of the pitcher and the waitress brings them another, though Kris is pretty sure he's only had one glass. "Lightweight," David scoffs when Kris points that out. "You've got to learn to keep up, boy."

Kris knocks back half his second glass in three gulps and sticks out his tongue at David. "I bet it's because I slept with their lead singer once," David says and Kris sputters on a sip of beer.

"Who?" he rasps, coughing a little, and David sighs at Kris like he hasn't been paying attention.

"The Kings of Leon," he repeats. "Caleb, totally hot. He knows how to keep up with a drinking man," David says and points his glass in Kris's direction like he's giving out sage advice.

"I bet he does," Kris laughs. "What the hell, man?"

"I'm just trying to gauge if you're drunk enough yet. Maybe you're a three beer queer!" David just wags his eyebrows and refills Kris's beer.

"Oh, God," Kris says, and puts his head on the table.


The answer to David's question turns out to be three and a half beers. Which is really kind of sad, when Kris thinks about it. He's not even actually drunk, just drunk enough to text Katy with cook sys girls like it when guys make out.


he maybe licked beer off my fingers.

Licked is the wrong word, really. David had sucked Kris's middle finger into his mouth entirely before pulling it out slowly with a satisfying 'pop' at the end. Kris was starting to feel like he shouldn't have worn such tight jeans. David was currently on his own phone, texting someone about something, eyes cutting over to try and read over Kris's shoulder.

...youre a tease. tell him about your hair thing.

David grabs the phone from his hands before Kris can even hit reply, turns in his chair so Kris can't reach it as he types back its dave, i stole the phone. what hiar thing???

ahhhahha. ask adam. ;)

David blinks at Kris and Kris huffs in embarrassed annoyance. The hair thing isn't a thing, it's a neck massage, but for some reason when he says that, David won't stop laughing.


"Here's what we're going to do," David says, when they're back up to his room, flopped on their backs on David's queen-sized bed. "I'm going to blow you, and then you'll totally get it." He makes it sound incredibly reasonable, even though Kris knows he's incredibly, stupidly drunk. Kris is only just a little drunk, and so he feels very morally superior at the moment.

"I don't think that's how it works, Cook."

"Fuck you, Allen. Dick sucking is dick sucking, and once you get that, you get that making out is making out, and fucking is fucking, and orgasms are orgasms, man."

"That is intensely profound," Kris deadpans.

"Hey, your wife seems to get it," David says, rolling on his side and flopping a hand over Kris's waist.

"My wife is clearly smarter than I am." David's fingers rake over the waist of his jeans, catching a little on the button, and Kris's hips jerk just a fraction. David smiles down at him, goofy and sexy all at once. "How do you do that?" Kris mutters and David just shrugs and leans down a fraction to brush his lips over Kris's jaw. The slide of his beard sends a little shiver down Kris's spine. He can feel the heat pooling in his belly and when he closes his eyes, he can feel the rasp of David's calloused fingers pressing against his bare skin where his shirt is riding up. And it's not so much that he won't as that he hasn't. And maybe he should, with Cook, before he does, with... someone else, and maybe fucks up something that's a lot more important to him.

"Fine," he says tightly, because he's not going to wimp out on this, not when Katy seems to know what he wants better than he does, and certainly not when David is sliding his hand down the front of Kris's jeans.

"Excellent," David says, and he doesn't stop his hand, or stop himself from planting soft kisses across Kris's throat. David's fingers close around him and Kris gasps and turns his head until David takes the hint and kisses him for real.

Making out really is making out, apparently, or at least when you're making out with someone who has clearly had a lot of practice. It's really, really hot, the way David is bigger than him, the way he presses his knee down over Kris's thigh to keep him from bucking off the mattress as he jerks him off in tight, hot strokes. Kris unbuttons his shirt with steady fingers and lets it fall open, tilts his head back when David bites down gently on one of his nipples. It takes Kris an embarrassingly short time to get hard enough that he's whimpering, pushing back on David's shoulders so he can open his jeans up all the way and shove them down his thighs. "You are really fucking hot," David says almost conversationally as he pushes to his feet and tugs Kris's jeans all the way to his ankles. He hooks his hands behind Kris's knees and pulls him a foot forward on the bed with one strong jerk. Kris barks out a laugh.

"Shut up, you are," Kris says, and David grins and leans in to kiss him quickly. He doesn't feel drunk at all now, just blushy and hot and antsy, especially when David drops to his knees. David grabs his phone and glances at it quickly before looking up at Kris with a grin. "Am I boring you?" Kris asks, shaking his head.

"Nah," David leans in and nips at Kris's inner thigh. "Just wondering if I should take a picture of this for your wife."

"Oh, God, please don't," Kris laughs. This is monumentally crazy anyway, and photographs are not a good idea, even though he's pretty sure Katy will be annoyed he said no.

He tucks the phone back in his pocket and leans in closer. Kris pushes himself up on his elbows to watch. "I'm not the absolute best at this, but I usually get an 'A' for enthusiasm," David grins at him and slides his hands up Kris's thighs. "You want the expert level, you're going to have to go up one person on your list." Kris flushes and kicks him in the side and David smacks him in the calf and five seconds later, Kris's head thumps back onto the mattress as David fucking Cook tries to suck Kris's brain out through his dick.

This is probably why, three minutes after that, Kris doesn't register the open-and-shut of the hotel room door until Adam's voice calls out "Cook, what the hell was the emergen--" and stops dead in the middle of the room.

"Oh," Adam says, eyes wide, and Kris feels this rush of hot-cold settle over his skin.

"Adam," he says weakly, and David pulls off with an obscene wet sound and says, "Hey," his voice rough and gravelly like he'd just been... well.

"What the fuck?" Adam says, eyes going hard, and Kris thinks no, no, no before David is on his feet and walking over to Adam, slipping his hand around Adam's hip and leaning in. Adam is totally still. Kris pushes himself so he's nearly sitting up, wary and watching.

"I didn't want you to miss this," David says, smiling in that stupid happy way that means he has no idea Adam is about to kill him. "I warmed him up for you," he says in a low stage whisper, and Kris's breath catches in his chest.

"What the... what?" Adam says softly, his eyes still fixed on Kris, laid out across David's bed with his shirt rucked up, his cheeks flushed pink.

Kris really, really should get up and put his pants on, stop this before it gets way too out of hand, but David is already rolling his eyes and pushing Adam at the bed. "Go, moron, are you slow?" he huffs, takes a step back, crossing his arms. "You've wanted to do this forever. Now you can. Stop thinking and just do it," he says evenly, and maybe he's not as drunk as Kris expects a guy who drank two and half pitchers of beer to be. "I've been singing your praises over here," he adds with a grin.

"Yeah?" Adam asks, and fuck, he's staring at Kris's face, long enough that Kris sees when his eyes flicker down to where Kris's dick is still laying hard and wet against his bare stomach. "Kris?" he says, and Kris doesn't think he's ever seen Adam this desperately unsure before.

"If you want, yeah," Kris says, and he's not even surprised by how much he wants Adam to say yes. David just snorts out a laugh behind him, and Adam huffs.

"This is a big deal, asshole!" Adam says, but he's close enough for Kris to touch now, close enough to see how hard Adam is, his shallow breathing. He hooks his fingers in one of Adam's belt loops and tugs him closer.

"It's totally a big deal," Kris says looking up at his face, and there's a stupid hot lump in his throat, but his voice is steady.

"Yeah," Adam says again, and he slides to his knees in what looks like slow motion.

"Okay, I'm headed back to the bar," David calls from across the room. "And I'm stealing your room key, Allen." Adam and Kris both turn to stare at him. "What? It's a 'big deal'," he says, grinning around his own air quotes. "You guys get it out of your system, then call me if you have energy for round two, or five, or whatever."

"Well," Adam says and Kris turns back to him, soft grey t-shirt tight across his shoulders, black hair slicked back, his lower lip caught between his teeth in confusion. He's gorgeous, and Kris is naked, and Adam is on his knees, and David Cook is pretty much an evil mastermind. Katy will probably send him a fruit basket.

"Hey," Kris smiles, and Adam looks right at him. "I hear you're pretty good at this," Kris goads, grinning because Adam's hands are drifting up his thighs. Adam tips his head up and Kris leans in to kiss him, soft and slow and deep. By the time he pulls away, Kris is nearly dizzy from it.

"Kristopher," Adam says with a cocky grin, "I am excellent at this."