FIC: If You Ain’t No Punk Holla, “We Want Pre-nup!”, Kris/Adam

Title: If You Ain’t No Punk Holla, “We Want Pre-nup!”
Author: wutendeskind
Pairing: Kris/Adam
Summary: Future fic. The title is, alternately, “The One Where Everyone But Adam and Kris Get Married.”
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Implied infidelity, divorce, and QVC.
Author’s Note: My first posted AI story! Beta’d by cherie_morte, who has to listen to me talk at length about Kris Allen, Adam Lambert, and, occasionally, how much love they’re in. Title stolen from Kanye West. Written for rosiewinter for the Dollar Donation Drive. She asked for wedding fic, I was inspired, and then everyone but Adam and Kris ended up getting married. I didn’t mean for it to happen, I swear. I hope this comes close enough.

*

Kris doesn’t really want to get married again—one wedding was enough, thank you. He’s still dealing with lawyers over alimony and the house in LA and the KitchenAid mixer. The point is that getting married was deceptively simple the first time around and Kris doesn’t particularly want to put himself in a situation where he might have to get unmarried ever again. He knows it’s only fair that he tell Adam as much; they’ve been dating formally from literally the moment Kris signed the divorce papers, though Adam won’t let him tell anyone that—A little gauche, don’t you think? Adam had said at the time—and informally dating (honestly, maybe dating’s not the right word for it) since Kris got drunk the last night of the tour with every intention of falling into bed with Adam. He knows he’s telling Adam as an apology: Kris needs Adam to know he’ll never propose before they get even more invested. Anyway, it’d be even more complicated this time around; he and Katy certainly hadn’t needed a pre-nup.

“Pre-nups are supposed to make everything simpler,” Adam says, swinging his feet up to rest over Kris’s legs.

Kris shrugs. “I’m not sure I’ll have anything worth putting in a pre-nup by the time this mess is over with. I’ll be lucky to keep my guitar.” Not that he blames Katy exactly, but what does she want with his Beatles collection anyway?

“At least you have a recording contract this time around. Ramen has to taste better with a record deal,” Adam says, laughing.

So Adam just lets it go and Kris feels good because he put it out there and the two of them carry on as usual, not much different from when they were friends, except they get to have really great sex now. In July Adam gets a wedding invitation from Brad, who’s finally marrying some German designer Adam refers to as Jorn, which Kris had to have explained to him, but now thinks the Rufus Wainwright parallel is weirdly appropriate, and not only because Brad walks around in a white fluffy bathrobe while Will rubs his feet. Kris has a brief moment of panic that Brad’s impending wedding will make Adam want to get married too—he keeps looking around the house for copies of Modern Bride Adam might have stashed in the cabinet below the sink or under their bed—but Adam picks out a suit and buys Brad and Will’s wedding gift with nothing more than a “Do you want to know what we got them, in case someone asks?” and a reminder that Kris has to cancel his meeting with the last producers because it’s scheduled for the night of the rehearsal dinner.

In September, Kris gives up the pretense of looking for his own place. He’s got a new tour starting in a few weeks and his house hunt has been half-hearted at best for months now. Living with Adam is familiar, and even if Adam’s master bathroom doesn’t have his-and-hers sinks—well, his-and-his in practice—Kris doesn’t really need much counter space anyway. In the rare event that their schedules match up at all in the coming months, Kris doesn’t want to waste time deciding whose house they should meet at, or have to feel bad about spending all his time at Adam’s when he has a place of his own to go back to. It already feels like home anyway.

Once he gets back on the road, Kris is thankful for the constant activity. He’s so busy between press and performing that by the time he gets back to the bus, he really doesn’t do anything but call Adam, check his email (he has his PA, a twentysomething named Sarah, forward him every bit of Adam press she can get her hands on), and knockout as soon as he’s managed to approximate clean in the tiny bus bathroom. And that’s something that definitely takes some getting used to—showering in a 2’ x 3’ box when Adam’s shower had three showerheads and could’ve fit the entire Top 13 inside, though maybe not comfortably. A couple of weeks into the tour Sarah tells him she’s getting married and won’t be available for the last leg. Kris says it’s fine (what else is he supposed to say, really?), smiles, and tells her he expects an invitation to the wedding.

Kris gets cranky right around the end of the first month of the tour. The reporters have mostly stopped focusing on the divorce and have started asking if he’s been seeing anyone new, and Kris is taking his cues from Adam, who’s been fielding these questions for longer than he has. Adam says he’s been dating, nothing serious, because he knew he’d be going on tour soon and long distance relationships are a lot of work. Kris knows it’s what Adam has to say, but he’s kind of annoyed anyway. He doesn’t want any saucy reporters—or worse, crazed fans—thinking they have a chance with him. Adam Lambert is in a very serious relationship with one Kris Allen, and Kris has half a mind to say so during his next interview.

In the end Kris controls himself, though he still gets kind of territorial watching Adam’s interviews. When the tour makes it to Florida, where Sarah and her fiancé are originally from and where they’re holding the wedding, she asks for the day off to go cake tasting. Kris doesn’t have anything but a radio call-in that morning, so he decides to tag along. Kris isn’t really much help—he thinks the cakes are all delicious (except for this weird guava-filled cake with shiny icing that Kris imagines must actually be used to discourage guests from ever accepting a dinner invitation again) and doesn’t know how to do anything but hmmm noncommittally when Sarah tries to get him to debate the merits of square cakes versus round cakes. He zones out remembering Katy trying to plan their wedding around Idol auditions and Hollywood Week and can’t help but be sad he missed out on the fun. The hypothetical next time he gets married, Kris is definitely going to be more involved.

Kris hits rock bottom at Christmas. Adam is overseas because they extended the international leg of his tour, and Kris is stuck in California, alone, because he was expecting Adam to be stateside and didn’t make arrangements to go home to Arkansas. Not that he really wants to be back in Conway, but it would be nice to see his parents. Kris only has three days off, but still. That’s three days he thought he’d have with Adam. Their schedules have overlapped even less than Kris predicted in what he previously thought was a conservative estimate of the number of times he and Adam would get to see each other on tour, and now he has to spend the holidays by himself. His Momma has told him enough times that self-pity isn’t a good look for him, but Kris can’t help wallowing a little.

He tries to avoid It’s a Wonderful Life, but even the History Channel is playing some weird Jimmy Stewart retrospective and just when he thinks QVC might be safe, he sees that they’re trying to convince him he can’t live without his complete works. Turning the television off in disgust, Kris gets up to check Adam’s DVD collection. And, yeah, the DVD collection is definitely something they’re going to need to work on. How is Kris supposed to wallow without Once? He picks Velvet Goldmine instead, because he’s never seen it and he knows it’s Adam’s favorite. Plus, his other options are Twilight and The Ten Commandments Musical, which he assumes Adam has as kind of a joke, but even Kris is not quite that desperate yet.

As the credits roll, time difference be damned, Kris grabs his cell phone and calls Adam. “I don’t want to sleep with Christian Bale,” Kris says in a rush, cutting Adam off before he can ask if Kris is ok, because even though he loves to hear Kris’s voice, calling at 3 a.m. London time is not the norm. But Kris doesn’t have time for all that right now; right now he needs to make Adam understand. “And I definitely don’t want Katy telling anyone about our epic love.”

Adam makes a sound Kris takes to mean that, despite the complete lack of context, Adam understands what’s happening here. “You watched Velvet Goldmine.”

“Yes. Yes, I did,” Kris replies. “And that is why I need you to marry me.”

“Velvet Goldmine made you want to get married?” Adam asks, incredulous, the smile evident in his voice. “I’m not sure that’s the reaction you were supposed to have.”

“You made me want to get married,” Kris says, bouncing impatiently. “Velvet Goldmine just showed me what would happen if I didn’t get off my ass and propose.”

“You know I don’t need to get married, right?” Adam asks. “I know you love me and I like living with you. I was fine when you told me you didn’t want to get married again.”

Kris knows Adam’s trying to do the right thing, as always, but right now he just wants to hear Adam tell him that they get to send out their own Save the Date cards soon. Kris is definitely going to tell Adam they have to spring for the magnets—they’re so much more practical. “But what if I want to get married now?”

“I’m pretty sure both parties have to be there for the marriage to be legal,” Adam replies. Now he’s just fucking with Kris.

Kris tries a new tactic. “Adam Lambert, will you marry me?”

“Yes, Kris. I would love to marry you,” Adam answers. “But know that I’m expecting a ring when I get back.”

“Just… promise me you won’t ask for my Beatles CDs in the divorce proceedings.”

“We’re not getting divorced, Kris,” Adam replies, unable to control his laughter any longer. “But I promise we’ll have a whole section of our pre-nup devoted to your CDs, ok?”

“Great,” Kris responds. “And no guava cake!”

“Do I even want to know?” Adam asks.

“Probably not, man. Probably not.”

And they lived happily ever after in lawfully wedded bliss.