"Seven days, Kurt."
He'd known who it was on the phone before he'd picked up, of course, but his brisk, cheerful voice still made Kurt smile. "I know."
"You've got seven days to find out everything you can about me, and for me to learn everything about you. Then, it'll be too late for my cutting sense of humor or my enormous ego to get me in trouble, because you'll know the truth. So - no holds barred, seven days of asking any question you want and getting all the answers, and vice versa. Are you game?"
This could be interesting... if dangerous. But that apparently never stopped Adam before. He took a deep breath. "I'm in. What's the first question?"
"Mmm. Favorite ice cream flavor?"
"Anything that combines coffee and caramel. You?"
"It's a toss up between mint chocolate chip and french silk, but I'd go for the coffee, too. Okay, your turn."
Kurt thought, stretching his toes under the duvet. "Um. I'm kind of on the spot here. Okay - if you could drive any kind of car, what would it be?"
He laughed. "Honey? They gave it to me. For making top two on Idol. The black Mustang convertible?"
Of course. Because every young man has $38,000 cars handed to him. Kurt buried his face in his pillow for two seconds, then surfaced and pushed forward. "I completely forgot about that. Well - do you like it?" Stupid. It's a Mustang. Of course he likes it.
"I do," he agreed. "The back seat's tiny, though. I'm afraid one of you will have to squish yourself in behind the passenger seat."
"Noah's still taller than me," Kurt sighed. "I suppose it'll be me."
"Kurt," Adam said, with an audible smile. "I highly doubt that. Think about it. So - what about you?"
"A 1964 and a half Mustang convertible," he replied, without pause. "Leather interior."
"I see. 1964 and a half?"
"Yes, it came out halfway through the year. It's not an official model year, it was just released late. Pale yellow, preferably, but I'd take Twilight Turquoise if that's what was available."
"You could paint it anything you wanted."
"Excuse me," Kurt sputtered, "I could not. It's a restoration, not a custom."
"Mmmm," Adam hummed. "You're kind of hot when you've got your mechanic mojo working, honey."
Kurt was shocked into silence. Eventually, he heard Adam's anxious chuckle.
"Ah. Well. Maybe that was... a little too forward?"
"No," Kurt said, but there was no volume in the word. He cleared his throat and tried again. "No. It was... fine."
Adam was calm, as though nothing had happened. "All right. Okay... next question. What are you bad at?"
Besides flirting with my boyfriend's lover? "I'm terrible at creative writing. I'm pretty sure that's going to be my first B in high school."
"It was math, for me. I was pretty good in English."
He burrowed down further under the covers. "Do you want to talk to Noah now?"
"Kurt, I called to talk to you. Am I being too pushy? We can be done, if you'd rather."
"Maybe a little." Kurt closed his eyes. "But I like it."
"Yeah?"
He couldn't imagine why Adam might sound like that. Like... he wasn't sure. "Yes... it's okay."
"More than okay, I hope. But I can say goodnight. Think about some questions for me."
"All right. Goodnight."
Kurt threw himself back onto his pillow with a huge exhalation, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't move again until Puck was in his doorway, asking, "Are you guys finally done talking?"
"For tonight."
He approached the bed tentatively. "Uh - you okay, Kurt?"
"I - think so." Kurt held out his phone vaguely into the air, and Puck took it and set it on the nightstand. He leaned in and kissed Kurt's cheek.
"He does that to me, too," he said in a low, intimate voice. Kurt shivered, then reached out and gripped his hand tightly, eyes pleading.
"You've got to keep reminding me that this is - okay." Kurt hung onto his hand until Puck nodded, bemused. "Really? You're... you're sure?"
"Baby," Puck said, laughing. "I'm fucking thrilled. Do you get that? You can have anybody you want, I don't care, as long as it makes you happy - but you, and Adam? Other than you and Finn, it's kind of the best thing ever."
"Okay," Kurt said, meekly. "Because I think - I think things are - happening." His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. "And I'm freaking out a little."
Puck put a hand on Kurt's chest, stroking him gently. "You should talk to him."
"Not without suitable application of alcohol," snapped Kurt.
Puck's expression changed in an instant from loving to conniving. "You got it."
"I was kidding," Kurt called after him, but Puck was already out the door.
"Six days."
"I'm prepared this time," said Kurt, grinning, opening his notebook. "I believe it was my turn?"
"Fire away. But I beg your apology in advance, I have a little bit of a headache. I think there was MSG in the Chinese food I had for lunch."
"Do you want to talk later? It's fine -"
"No," Adam said quickly. "No. I've been looking forward to this all day. Don't worry. I'm a big boy."
Not responding. Not going to say anything. "Okay. Um... your favorite designer?"
"Oh, McQueen, definitely. He's visionary. But I'm also fond of Galliano. It's my goth wannabe thing coming out, you know." Kurt heard him take a sip of something. "And you?"
"McQueen is right at the top of my list," Kurt agreed faintly. "Marc Jacobs, too."
"Totally. But what the fuck was up with those hats this fall? I swear, he was smoking something."
"Well, I guess I won't be wearing mine when I come visit, then. Your turn."
"Mmm. What do you do when you're unhappy?"
Kurt paused. "I... I wrap myself up in my duvet and hide for a little while. Or I go to Finn."
"Yes. Your Top. He takes care of you?"
He was arrested, for a breathless moment, at the picture of himself wrapped tightly in Adam's arms. "Yes - he does."
"Things are better between Noah and Finn?"
"Much," Kurt agreed, "though it's not back to the way it was. Finn's looking forward to the trip, too, you know. It's going to be amazing to be on vacation, the three of us. I can't wait to see you."
He paused, realizing what he'd said, and stopped talking for several moments while he gathered his bearings. Adam went right on as though he hadn't stopped.
"God, I know - it's going to be amazing. I hope you don't mind, but I have all kinds of things planned. How long are you staying?"
"We're flying home on Monday night," Kurt said. It was a little heady to think of Adam Lambert showing them around L.A., and he found himself dwelling a little too long on how that might be.
"What about you?" he managed, eventually.
"What about what?"
"What do you do when you're unhappy," Kurt clarified.
Adam paused a little too long before he answered. "I eat." His sigh was barely a whisper in Kurt's ear. "And then I beat myself up about it."
"Oh. Um - I'm sorry."
"No, honey, it's okay. It's just one of those patterns I regret. Maybe someday I'll deal with it more effectively, but for now - it's okay."
Kurt struggled with twin opposing impulses. One was to put his arms around Adam and hold him; the other was to listen to Adam repeat the word honey, right in his ear. Both were vaguely disturbing, and far too appealing for his comfort.
In the end, he just said, "All right."
"One more question, and I think then I should go."
The pause went on, until Kurt said, "Okay?"
"Would you - ?" Adam cleared his throat. "Should I plan on a separate bedroom for you, when you visit? Or will you be staying with me and Noah?"
Kurt had no idea how to answer that. He let the silence drag on, trying a few times to open his mouth and say the words With you, please, God, but eventually it became pretty clear that was not going to happen.
"What do you want?" he asked, his mouth dry.
"I'm guessing it's not really my call," Adam said. "But if I could choose, you'd be welcome."
Kurt chewed on his lip. "But - you're the Top, aren't you?"
"So are you, Kurt," he said gently. "Think about it, okay?"
He nodded for several seconds before he realized there was no way Adam would be able to see it, afterwards he said, "I will."
"Thank you. I'll talk to you tomorrow. honey."
