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Even Dragons Have Their Ending

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adam lambert, au, big bang, fan fiction, kris allen

Even Dragons Have Their Ending I


The prince looks out at the barren landscape. It is flat and dreary and he misses the rolling hills of home. He misses the man he loves. He rests his head on his hand, staring out the window.

His captors give him food, but he doesn't eat. He has a comfortable bed, but he doesn't sleep. They have provided him with clothing, but he clings to his own garments.

All he wants is to go home and be with those he loves. The man with glasses, the one he knows, Daniel, tells him that he is free to go once his father pays his ransom. It has been a week with no news.

David thinks he might never go home. That the ransom will never be paid. He heaves a sigh. Home feels a million light years away.

I Met This Guy in a Bar

Kris looks around and smiles to himself. The bar is busy tonight. Five years is all it has taken to turn it around. The Bear and Unicorn Pub and Grill had been an institution here in New Orleans for more than fifty years. Hurricane Katrina had nearly forced it to close its doors but thanks to a small inheritance from his grandparents, Kris had been able to buy it for a song.

"Hey bro." Matt lurches against the bar counter and grins blearily at him. His friend and employee appears well on the way to being seriously drunk.

Kris passes him two beers and a glass of wine. "Hey yourself. This is for table four." he points at the suited men and woman in the corner of the bar. Matt nods, grabs the drinks in expert hands and wobbles over to the table Kris has indicated with a grin.

Kris shakes his head in wonderment. Despite the copious amounts of alcohol he consumes, Matt is still the best waiter in the city.

The sound of someone tapping a microphone gets his attention and he looks over at the small stage at the other end of the bar. Allison waves to him and he waves back. He motions to Cook to take over for him and goes to his place on the stage behind the piano. The first husky notes of "Blue Moon" send the crowd cheering and then there is silence as Alli reigns over her little kingdom for half an hour.

It's about one am when Kris spots him. He can't have been there long. He isn't the sort of guy who goes unnoticed. Tall with spiky black hair that shines with blue lights in the muted glow of the bar light, Kris wanders over to him.

"What can I get you?" he asks and feels a moment of shock when he finds himself the intense focus of heaven bright eyes.

"What would you recommend?" The second shock is his voice. Light and soft and resonating somewhere deep inside Kris, like the sounding of a bell.

"Um, beer? Beer is good here," he stutters. Shock number three comes in the form of a smile so radiant it lights up the entire pub.

"Not really a beer drinker," the stranger confides, eyes alight with laughter.

Kris mumbles warningly, "I don't make any frou-frou chick drinks," and those blue eyes mock him gently.

"Surprise me then." Suddenly Kris wants to spend the rest of his life being laughed at by this man he hasn't even officially met yet.

He sticks out his hand. "Kris Allen. I own the bar."

The stranger clasps his hand and the skin to skin contact gives Kris his fourth shock. "Adam Lambert."

Kris pulls his fingers away reluctantly. "One non-beer, non-frou-frou drink coming up," he promises with a tight smile.

He goes behind the bar into the store room and pulls out a bottle of fifteen year old Glen Fiddich. He notes idly that his hands are trembling.

Back out in the bar, he pours two tots of Scotch and hands one to Adam. "Cheers."

Adam touches his glass to Kris'. "To new friends," he replies with a smile and Kris can actually feel that smile stroking at something inside him.

"New friends," he repeats and they both drink, never taking their eyes off one another.

Suddenly it's last call and Kris is swamped with orders. By the time the dust clears, Adam is gone.

Kris doesn't want to think about why he feels as though the air has been sucked out of the world.

He closes up the bar as normal and trudges upstairs. The convenience of living above his workplace counter-balances the fact that even on the nights he gets off he doesn't get to sleep early.

Adam is sleeping on his sofa.

Kris stares down at him. He's taken off his shoes and pulled a throw over himself, and Kris thinks idly that he looks as though he belongs there.

He clears his throat and watches as Adam opens his eyes. They are blurry with sleep for a moment and then bright with alertness.

He sits up. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep like that, I just…" He stops when Kris raises his hand.

"Don't worry about it. Just wasn't expecting company at…" he looks at his watch, "two in the morning."

Adam looks at him ruefully. "I wanted to talk to you, away from everything and then I fell asleep." His smile flashes briefly again, apologetic this time. "Your door was open," he offers.

Kris goes into the kitchen to grab a couple of bottles of water and hands one to Adam when he comes back out. He is waiting for his internal freak-out to start because there's a really strange guy in his apartment, but all he feels is a sense of right. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" he asks instead.

He watches the long, lovely line of Adam's throat as he tips his head back to drink. It's a strange thing, this fascination with a man, something new and unusual and important. He's going to have to think about that later, when he's alone.

Adam focuses on him again. "I need your help." He puts the half-empty bottle down and clasps his hands loosely together between his knees, leaning forward. "Before I say anything more, let me just state for the record that the next few sentences are going to be extremely difficult to believe but I'm asking you to believe me anyway."

Those eyes watch him closely and Kris thinks he might be missing something. "Okay. I'll listen."

Adam seems to deflate a little, as though the tension he's been bottling up has suddenly oozed out of him like helium. "Okay." He straightens and looks dead on at Kris. "I'm not from here."

Kris chokes on the sip of water he's just taken. "Yeah? I could have guessed that." Adam's unusual, even for NOLA.

Adam shakes his head. "No, I mean, I'm really not from here." He waves his hands around the room and Kris frowns.

"Are you from, like Europe or something?" he asks, confused.

Adam huffs a frustrated sigh. "No, I'm not from Europe. I'm from further away than that."

Kris squints a little. "You don't sound like you're Australian."

Adam throws himself back on the cushions and laughs, a slightly hysterical edge to his voice. "Maybe I'm going about this the wrong way." He's almost murmuring to himself and Kris just waits. "Okay. I'm what you might call an agent."

Kris chuckles. "What? Like a spy?"

Adam nods eagerly. "Yes, exactly like a spy, only I'm not here to spy, I'm here to find someone. Someone who is very important to my people."

Kris stares at him. "Your people?" The conversation has just taken a left turn into woo-woo land territory.

"I am an alien." Adam tells him.

"You're Mexican?" Kris asks and then rolls his eyes at himself for being an ass. "Sorry. Ignore that."

Adam is laughing again, this time genuine humour in the tone. "Yeah, I'm Mexican." Kris snorts and starts laughing as well.

Finally, Kris asks, "So where are you from then?"

Adam sobers and replies, "I don't know if you'll believe me, but you're the one I was led to, so I suppose I'll have to show you." He holds out his hands and Kris sees a pattern tattooed into the palms of his hands and twining up his wrists, disappearing into his sleeves.

He peers closely and asks, "What am I supposed to be looking a…shit! Fuck!" He leaps back, bolting to the other side of the room. "Your fucking tattoos moved!" He hears himself from a distance and thinks he sounds crazy, even to himself.

Adam stands as well and slowly pushes his jacket off his shoulders. He's only got a t-shirt on underneath and Kris sees the tattoos writhing in coils up his arms. He finds himself walking closer again until he's pressed up against Adam's side, with one of his arms held in his hands. The artwork looks like giant scales.

Adam just stays still, allowing Kris to rub a calloused thumb across the moving art on his palm. Kris can feel the shudder that runs through Adam's body. "Do you feel something when I do that?" he asks and looks up.

Adam's eyes are silver bright, hazy with lust and his mouth is slightly open. He's breathing quickly and Kris rubs the tattoo again, the weird sensation of the moving skin almost like a cat arching into his thumb.

Adam swallows and whispers, "If you don't stop that, I'm going to come." And Kris suddenly wants that more than anything. It's surreal and bizarre but he wants Adam screaming beneath him.

So he brings Adam's hand to his mouth and presses his mouth to the tattoo. Adam's skin reacts like it's been electrocuted. It's the fifth shock Kris has received since he's met Adam. Long fingers curl and tighten around his face but Kris doesn't pull away. He opens his lips and tastes Adam's skin with his tongue.

And Adam shouting in release is the last thing he remembers.

When he opens his eyes again, he's horizontal, looking up at the ceiling in his bedroom. His body is throbbing, muscles tight and tense, and his mouth is dry.

"Are you okay?" That light voices comes from somewhere to the right of him and he slowly turns his neck, aching head protesting all the way. Adam is sitting on the bed next to him, eyes worried.

"Yeah." His voice sounds rusty, like he hasn't used it for years. He tries again, "What happened?"

Adam's cheeks are tinged faintly with pink as he answers, "I'm not quite sure, but I think you and I are connected in some way. I think maybe it has to do with the fact that I was led to you. That you are meant to help me."

Kris struggles to sit up and Adam is quick to assist. The first touch of his hands on Adam's shoulders sends a shudder through Kris. It feels as though an electrical charge is running through him. Adam pulls away quickly.

"Sorry." His mouth is tight as he watches Kris pushing himself up against the headboard.

Kris waves a hand. "Don't worry about it. Must be a lot of static electricity in the air." He hopes. He looks at Adam's hand and the tattoos are moving restlessly across the back of his hand. "Does it hurt?" he asks curiously

Adam shrugs. "It isn't pleasant. For some reason, around you, they're acting up more than usual."

Kris unconsciously reaches out with a finger tip towards a piece of the tattoo on the back of Adam's hand that is pushing at his skin as though it wants to burst through. The moment his fingertip touches the ink, Kris feels that now familiar shock running through him but amazingly, the scales beneath his hand seem to subside. He takes a quick breath.

"That is very strange." Adam says, looking down with puzzled eyes. "My mark seems to recognize your touch." He turns his hand over, palm up and Kris allows his own palm to fall flat against it. He shudders as his body pulses in response, but he can see that this small touch eases Adam's discomfort.

"Maybe you should just hold on to me then," he suggests and curls his fingers around Adam's. "I can handle it if you can." He sees the nervousness in Adam's face as he wraps his hand around Kris'.

And the tattoos calm and ease and settle. Everything in Kris does the same.

He smiles and looks at Adam enquiringly. "So tell me about the person you are looking for. And tell me about where you're really from."

He Told me his Story

Kris can see Adam wondering how much he should tell him. He wants to tell Adam that he can take care of himself, that he can be trusted. The warmth of Adam's hand is now like a comforting blanket and he feels like stretching like a cat.

"I want to tell you everything but am not sure where to begin." Kris suspects that it isn't in Adam's nature to be uncertain.

He smiles slowly and it seems to help Adam decide something when Kris tells him, "Start at the beginning. It's usually the easiest thing."

Adam takes a breath. "Okay then. It starts with the kidnapping of my prince." He looks at Kris who doesn't move. So he carries on. "He's a special young man. He holds the hope of our people in his blood."

Kris asks, "Who are your people?" He's fascinated by the movement of Adam's mouth and needs to force himself to concentrate on what Adam is saying.

Adam smiles grimly. "That is perhaps the easiest question to answer but the hardest for you to believe." He holds up his other arm and the tattoo is making lazy coils around his wrist. Kris stares as though hypnotised. "I am Drakkin." He pauses and waits for Kris to speak.

He doesn't though, he just waits and Adam shakes his head. Kris rubs his thumb across the centre of Adam's palm, almost absently and notices that Adam shivers. "So what's a Drakkin?"

He focuses those blue eyes on Kris once more. "You would call us aliens or extra-terrestrials. We are not original inhabitants of your world, although, we have been here long enough to be considered naturalised citizens." Kris' eyes widen but he thinks he should rather listen to what Adam has to say and enjoy a private freak-out later.

He might have to change his name to Alice though or come to terms with the fact that beautiful Adam is an escapee from a mental institution.

"The young man who has been taken is our Prince. His name is David and he is the last of us to be born. Only one of royal blood can procreate. If he is killed, all hope for our race dies with him." Kris opens his mouth and closes it again when no sound emerges.

"There is a legend among our people. The last prince will be the renewal of the Drakkin." Adam sighs and his shoulders slump. "Our king does not wish to pay his ransom. He's jealous of David. He wanted to be the salvation of the Drakkin. But he wasn't the child of prophecy, David is, and we all saw it when he was born."

Kris holds up a hand. "Wait. Let me get this all straight. You're like ET and you have a kidnapped prince that you need to find or else your race is gonna become extinct?"

Adam snorts inelegantly. "Well, that sounds so much less crazy when you put it like that."

Kris starts laughing and lies back on the pillows. "Dude! That could be the story for like the most epic film ever!" He's wheezing a little but sobers up when he sees Adam staring at him. "You're serious?"

The grim nod assures him that Adam believes every word he's just said. "Um."

Adam scoots closer, hand tightening around Kris' and the tattoo makes a rolling movement against Kris' palm that is a combination of nauseating and stimulating. "I need you to help me find my prince." His eyes are earnest, pleading and Kris tries to think of the about a million reasons why helping the pretty lunatic is a very bad idea.

"Your story is a little bit nuts, you must know that." Kris looks at Adam and says, "I'd be just as crazy if I believed you."

Adam's shoulders slump and his expression is defeated. "If you don't help me, then my kin are as good as dead."

Kris rolls his eyes. "Honestly, are you this much of a drama queen about everything?"

He sees the flash of humour in his eyes as Adam nods. "Yeah, pretty much." He smiles. "It helps sometimes."

Kris laughs. "Prove to me that you're not human and I'll help you." He thinks that this will be the easiest way to help the mad man on his bed.

Adam tilts his head to one side, a considering expression on his face. "So, if I can somehow prove that I am not like you, then you'll believe me?" He looks down at his hands, the tattoos lying close to his skin, calm and ready.

Kris nods, it should be easy. "Yeah." He thinks about the tattoos but reckons they're some kind of illusion.

Adam pulls slowly away from Kris and stands up, moving away from the bed. Kris feels his skin trying to inch closer, just wanting to be by Adam. He watches the art on Adam's skin start moving again. "Just remember, you asked for this," Adam warns and a flash of lightning blinds Kris.

Smoke fills the bedroom and Kris flaps his hands in front of his face, trying not to inhale the cloud. When it clears, Adam is gone.

Yes, Kristopher, Dragons are Real

Kris has always thought of himself as a reasonable man. But there is no reasonable explanation for the dragon hovering about five feet in the air in his bedroom, black scales gleaming, wings tipped in blue iridescence.

He sits there for a moment, considering his options. There aren't many. Either he's had a lot more to drink than he thought and someone slipped some acid in his last beer or Adam has been eaten by a dragon. Or else Adam is a dragon. And that's just not possible. Right?

do you believe me now? The rough voice talking in his head startles him and he looks up at the …fuck…it's real…the dragon.

"Um." Kris isn't a verbal maestro at the best of times, but right now, in this space, he has nothing. "You're a dragon?" he asks uncertainly, because seriously, Adam can't be a dragon.

no, I told you, I am Drakkin! the dragon (Drakkin?) grunts in his head. Kris climbs off the bed and walks over to his hallucination. He wants to poke at it to make sure it's real.

"Okay, that's really creepy, dragon!" Kris reckons he'll eventually wake up. This is what happens when you let strange men fall asleep on your couch and don't throw them out when you find them.

Then the air shimmers smoke again and Adam is standing in front of him. He's not wearing much, just his jeans and Kris wonders idly if shape-shifting eats your clothes.

"Um." Kris says again. He's looking around for the camera guys to jump out and tell him he's on some sort of reality show for magicians. But it's just him and Adam.

Adam is looking increasingly miserable and somehow that is the worst thing that's happened in the past few minutes. Adam being unhappy is a state of being that Kris thinks he won't be able to tolerate. Ever. Oh.

"So, I hope that's proof enough for you?" Adam asks but all Kris is hearing is 'blah blah blah kiss me' so he steps forward, steps into Adam's space and takes.

Kissing a dragon, sorry Drakkin, is like stepping into a bush fire, Kris thinks. The moment his lips meet Adam's the world is engulfed by flame and heat and wind and want. He puts his arms around Adam's waist and just holds on.

When Adam finally pulls away, he has to steady Kris with firm hands on his shoulders. "I'm sorry. That shouldn't have happened."

Kris' eyes fly open and he stares at Adam. "Are you fucking insane? That's about the only thing in this entire situation that is remotely an okay thing!" he stops, rephrases that because, "I wanted to kiss you, you're insane, but you're gorgeous and I want to go on kissing you. Like. Forever," his voice trails off because Adam is just standing there, beaming. He could possibly light up a city with the wattage of that smile.

Adam steps forward, flush up against Kris. "That is the most fucking amazing thing anyone has ever said to me." Kris wants Adam to keep smiling like that. A lot. "If it were up to me, right now, I would strip you and lay you down on the floor and fuck you until you couldn't remember your own name." Kris kind of wants that to happen too, but then Adam says, "But I can't. I have to find Prince David."

"So where do we start?" Kris asks and his mouth has committed him before his brain has agreed. It's how he ended up buying the Bear and Unicorn so it hopefully can't be a bad thing.

Adam's answering smile is reward enough. "We start by talking to someone called D. Cook."

Kris stares at Adam. "D. Cook? Do you have a first name?"

Adam takes an i-Phone out of his pocket and taps the screen a few times. He nods and looks up, "David Roland Cook. He has the same name as the prince."

Kris flops down on the bed again. "Fuck," he says with feeling.

Adam sits down next to him, bumps his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Kris looks at him bleakly. "Cook is my best friend. Plus he's part share-holder in the bar. He can't have anything to do with your prince's disappearance."

The expression on Adam's face suddenly makes his claim of being a spy more believable. Kris never wants Adam to look at him like that. It's fucking terrifying. "Your Cook is the man that David ran away with. He's the reason the prince was out in the world, unprotected. He may not have kidnapped my prince, but he's responsible for him disappearing."

Kris sighs and pulls his phone out of his pocket, dials Cook and is unsurprised when it goes to voicemail. "Hey man, sorry to call you at ass o' clock, but when you get this message, just call me back right away. Okay? It's important." He ends the call and looks at Adam, one eyebrow raised. "That good enough for you?"

Adam nods, his face soft again. "Thank you."

Kris gets up and heads to the bathroom. "I don't know about you, but I'm tired and I want to sleep. Cook won't call back until the morning, so you should try to get some shut-eye as well." He showers quickly, brushes his teeth and pulls on a pair of boxers.

When he steps out of the bathroom, he sees Adam stretched out on his bed, fast asleep. It's easy, ridiculously easy in fact, to climb up onto the bed and curl up next to him. Adam moves to accommodate him, then a long arm snakes around his waist and arranges him so that they are spooned together.

Kris smiles to himself and strokes the arm banded around his waist. The scales ripple and push against his fingers and the sound Adam makes is almost a purr. The low rumble soothes Kris to sleep.