rec: starstruck (wip)

For the record, if the Taming of the Shrewesque fic isn't updated soon, something tragic is going to happen. I have no idea how the people who have been reading this since like, May aren't burning cities or threatening hunger strikes or something. Has no one attempted blackmail or bribery? What are you waiting for?

Wait, there may be people who aren't reading this yet. Oh, you.

Direct links to all four threads in the aianonlovefest:

Starstruck - thread one, thread two, thread three and thread four, AIRPS, Adam/Kris. Yes, you have to follow it through comments. Yes, that would in a sane world be annoying. This is not a sane world. This is an awesome world that trust me, you really won't care until you realize there is no more. Then you know, tragedy.

In which aivilo_18 hates me and sent me a link so I, too, could connect with feeling like a heroin addict in withdrawal in a really big way (I sent it to svmadelyn, so this is actually turning into a The Ring-like situation, except a.) giving it to other people doesn't help and b.) no one crawls out of any electronic devices, which is good, because now I'm creeping myself out, let's ignore this segue now, please). I love this story stupidly and I think have memorized key passages and have a Pavlovian response to the parts that involve food (ie I snack) and possibly an interest in wine? I don't--like wine. And yet.

Oh, and I posted In the Land of the Delta, AIRPS, Adam/Kris yesterday to LJ. Forgot about that.

Comments

Amnesia 2

[seperis.livejournal.com]

Others? Swallowing, Kris leans back against the headboard, trying to look determined. "Okay, wait. Maybe I want to go down to breakfast."

Adam braces himself on one hand, head cocked curiously. "Do you? Because let me remind you of how long it took to get you out of the closet--" For no reason at all, Adam cracks up, laughing helplessly against the mattress; Kris wonders if he was like this before. "Okay, okay, sorry, just--"

"Oh, so your *hour long shower** was really not a soapy coping device--"

Adam's eyes narrow. "Oh, don't even--really, do you want to go?"

"No," Kris admits after a moment of thought; staying here and calling for room service seems like a better idea by the second. He still knows what room service is. And what a hotel is, for that matter. That's--good. He thinks. "That's not the point."

Adam gestures, *what** with a side of *you're kind of dumb yet cute**. He's gotten that a lot so far.

"Just, you could *ask**," he adds finally, feeling stupid.

"Did you want a vote, baby?" Sleek as a cat, Adam slips to his knees, crawling across magazines and newspapers until he's nearly in Kris' lap. *Married**, Kris' mind says a little frantically. Even now he's leaning over Kris, wet black hair ticking his cheek and way too close for anything like clear thinking. "Do tell if you have any objections. I'd hate to do anything you didn't want."

Eyes wide, Kris tries to think of a rejoiner and fails. After a moment, Adam grins, pushing off the bed with a bounce and going to the closet with a low, cheerful whistle, and Kris takes a deep breath, grabbing the netbook and pulling it into his lap. Who he's hiding his erection from is anyone's guess, but he's going with himself.

Amnesia, he thinks a little despairingly, opening google, really, really sucks.