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tamingthemuseTitle: Beautifully Broken
Author: Chosenfire
Fandom: American Idol RPS
Pairing/Character: Kris/Adam
Rating: R
Prompt: Adam loves watching Kris play the piano and/or guitar for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
rounds_of_kink and #168 for tamingthemuse.
Notes/Warnings: Slash. Undeniable fluff. Prompt used as inspiration and motivation to write the fic.
Adam missed watching Kris play, he hadn’t realized how much until now. He stood in the doorway to his house; Kris’s house now with how much the other man was there and watched as Kris sat with the guitar in his lap, his fingers plucking at the strings lightly.
Even from here Adam could see the pink flesh that was still healing, it twisted around Kris’s fingers and up the side of his wrist. The doctor had said after it healed cosmetic surgery would be possible. Kris had just shaken his head and said no with a crooked smile.
Adam knew why, Kris would never hide a part of himself, would never bury it away. The scars were now just as much of him as the one on his abdomen, reminding everyone that it was okay, that he was healing and would be okay.
Adam was going to be okay too, looking at them still reminded him of the fear of that night, the fire and the way Kris hadn’t even hesitated. It made him hold Kris tighter.
Kris’s face twisted in pain before smoothing out and he kept playing, the music flowing easier now, surrounding them. Adam wanted to go to him, wanted to take the guitar from his hands and urge him to rest. But he wanted to keep watching him play, because even though it hurt him there was a joy in Kris’s body in making music again this way.
The notes stuttered out and Kris was looking at him a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Hey.” his words were soft and it was all Adam needed to walk across the room and settle down on the couch beside him.
“Hey.” he smiled back “I missed this.”
“Me too.” Kris admitted his fingers ghosting across the strings, not drawing any sound but following the familiar paths and patterns he had been learning for years.
“Keep going.” and Adam let some of the hunger slip into his voice.
Kris grinned, mouth crooked and playful as he slowly started up a steady beat “You know you’re kind of weird right?” He continued to play, the tempo increasing and his body moving with it. Adam had discovered pretty early on that Kris just didn’t play with his hands, whether it was the guitar or piano, he played with his whole, unable to keep it still as the music was coaxed forth.
If he felt any pain he didn’t show it, he just kept playing, his lower lip being sucked between his teeth as his attention moved from Adam to the an entirely new melody, one Adam knew instinctively as being made up on the spout as it twisted and settled.
Adam moved closer to him, Kris’s body turning so that Adam can rest his head on his shoulder and watch as Kris played. The scars twisted and danced with the melody, and they were just as beautiful as Kris, just as precious.
Adam had spent nights touching them, tracing the damaged flesh with his tongue to relay claim to a part of Kris’s body that had already been his. The same hand had wrapped around him, brought him to the height of pleasure time and time again, in the name of Kris’s recovery because it was their own form of physical therapy.
Still, even then, the marks had never been as beautiful on Kris as they were now. Because now they were a part of him, a part of them. They would never fade away but they had been turned into something just as beautiful as the rest of Kris.
And for that Adam was thankful, he was happy.
Author: Chosenfire
Fandom: American Idol RPS
Pairing/Character: Kris/Adam
Rating: R
Prompt: Adam loves watching Kris play the piano and/or guitar for
rounds_of_kink and #168 for tamingthemuse.Notes/Warnings: Slash. Undeniable fluff. Prompt used as inspiration and motivation to write the fic.
Adam missed watching Kris play, he hadn’t realized how much until now. He stood in the doorway to his house; Kris’s house now with how much the other man was there and watched as Kris sat with the guitar in his lap, his fingers plucking at the strings lightly.
Even from here Adam could see the pink flesh that was still healing, it twisted around Kris’s fingers and up the side of his wrist. The doctor had said after it healed cosmetic surgery would be possible. Kris had just shaken his head and said no with a crooked smile.
Adam knew why, Kris would never hide a part of himself, would never bury it away. The scars were now just as much of him as the one on his abdomen, reminding everyone that it was okay, that he was healing and would be okay.
Adam was going to be okay too, looking at them still reminded him of the fear of that night, the fire and the way Kris hadn’t even hesitated. It made him hold Kris tighter.
Kris’s face twisted in pain before smoothing out and he kept playing, the music flowing easier now, surrounding them. Adam wanted to go to him, wanted to take the guitar from his hands and urge him to rest. But he wanted to keep watching him play, because even though it hurt him there was a joy in Kris’s body in making music again this way.
The notes stuttered out and Kris was looking at him a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Hey.” his words were soft and it was all Adam needed to walk across the room and settle down on the couch beside him.
“Hey.” he smiled back “I missed this.”
“Me too.” Kris admitted his fingers ghosting across the strings, not drawing any sound but following the familiar paths and patterns he had been learning for years.
“Keep going.” and Adam let some of the hunger slip into his voice.
Kris grinned, mouth crooked and playful as he slowly started up a steady beat “You know you’re kind of weird right?” He continued to play, the tempo increasing and his body moving with it. Adam had discovered pretty early on that Kris just didn’t play with his hands, whether it was the guitar or piano, he played with his whole, unable to keep it still as the music was coaxed forth.
If he felt any pain he didn’t show it, he just kept playing, his lower lip being sucked between his teeth as his attention moved from Adam to the an entirely new melody, one Adam knew instinctively as being made up on the spout as it twisted and settled.
Adam moved closer to him, Kris’s body turning so that Adam can rest his head on his shoulder and watch as Kris played. The scars twisted and danced with the melody, and they were just as beautiful as Kris, just as precious.
Adam had spent nights touching them, tracing the damaged flesh with his tongue to relay claim to a part of Kris’s body that had already been his. The same hand had wrapped around him, brought him to the height of pleasure time and time again, in the name of Kris’s recovery because it was their own form of physical therapy.
Still, even then, the marks had never been as beautiful on Kris as they were now. Because now they were a part of him, a part of them. They would never fade away but they had been turned into something just as beautiful as the rest of Kris.
And for that Adam was thankful, he was happy.
