Any Second Now

aka the shaving fic

Kris knows he should be grateful that his wrist is just sprained and not broken. But he’s been dropping things all over the place since it happened—his favorite coffee cup included—and no matter how hard he tries, the Pollyanna act doesn’t last. The razor clatters to the bathroom floor for the third time and Kris finds himself cussing a blue streak, staring at his half-shaven face in the mirror.

“What—what?” Adam asks, appearing in the doorway with a cup of coffee in hand, looking wild-eyed, like he is expecting an alien invasion.

Kris makes a face and points to the razor on the floor.

“Oh,” Adam says, pacified, taking a sip from his coffee. “I’ll help you out with that, don’t worry.”

Adam is there to help him out with things–that’s the whole point of his sleeping on Kris’ couch–but Kris never really planned to actually make use of the offer. He mostly thought of it as an excuse for them to hang out together. Not that they need an excuse, but Adam’s place is close enough that he doesn’t usually stay over, and it’s a bit like a snow day now that he has to.

“Man, you don’t…”

“Shut up, Kristopher,” Adam says, abandoning his cup on the counter and bending down to pick up the fallen razor. He pushes the sleeves of his shirt up and looks around thoughtfully.

“Come here,” he says finally, holding Kris by the arms and tucking him into the little gap between the side of the sink and the wall.

“Umm.” Adam is so close, Kris’ eyes cross trying to look at him. He holds his breath, like he thinks it would disturb Adam somehow.

“Ssssh, I’m concentrating,” Adam says.

“Concentrating on what?” Kris whispers. It feels like the thing to do.

“I need to plan this first,” Adam replies in all seriousness.

Kris rolls his eyes at him.

~

Standing in complete silence with Adam’s breath brushing his face is not the most comfortable Kris has ever been. They don’t really do awkwardness, the two of them, they never really did, but if there’s one situation that calls for it, this must be it.

Adam places two fingers on Kris’ jaw, and tilts Kris’ face to the right. He takes a step back to look at the positioning, like they are doing a photo shoot, and then nods to himself.

“Perfect.”

“Adam…”

“Shush, I’m working.”

The first touch of the razor against his skin makes Kris jump slightly. Adam clucks his tongue at him and Kris mutters an apology under his breath. Adam places the razor near his sideburn and runs it down his cheek in one smooth move. When he is done with that first swipe, he smiles to himself, satisfied.

Kris worries his bottom lip impatiently. If Adam takes it this slow, Kris is going to be stuck in that corner forever, and it’s getting kind of claustrophobic already. His back is pressed against the tiles and Adam is towering over him, and no matter how familiar it is to have Adam close to him, they’ve never really stood face to face for such a prolonged time before; the air between them is growing uncomfortably warm for Kris.

Thankfully, Adam picks up speed after a while, his confidence growing with every passing second. It is just a safety razor, there’s no need to be so careful anyway. Kris tells him that.

“Shaving is a serious job,” Adam informs him. “I’ve shaved in places you do not want to make mistakes.”

Kris snickers at the mental pictures, trying valiantly to hold still.

“Sounds painful,” he says when Adam turns to the sink to rinse the razor.

Adam snorts. “Not as painful as waxing.”

Ouch. Kris’ insides recoil in sympathy.

“Okay, just a little more,” Adam says, as if coaxing a little kid, and steadies Kris with a hand on his neck. “Look up.”

Kris leans his head back, feeling Adam step even closer to him. He gulps a little, convulsively, when their bodies brush. Adam’s fingers are feather-light on his skin, turning him left and right, and they are so close now, he can smell Adam’s sweat. It’s surprisingly familiar.

This was not a good idea.

~

They flirt all the time, he and Adam. They did it back when they both had significant others—it was harmless, just their way of communicating—and they still do it now, with both of them single. Kris feels the change, he knows it’s different now; they are a little bit more fast and loose with it now that there’s no one that could potentially get hurt from it, but he doesn’t really know what that really means.

What he does know is that it feels like they are moving towards something, and he is just not sure he’ll be able to handle it if they ever get there. Adam is…too much at times. Kris knows him almost too well and loves him with all his heart, and that makes it all the scarier to consider jumping into something with him.

It’s been a fragment of a thought sitting at the back of their minds for so long, stewing and making itself comfortable; Kris thinks maybe they got too used to the idea before they had a need to make sure it was a viable one. It didn’t fill an empty slot for a pre-existing notion, it carved a niche all for itself, and now it feels like it has always been there. And that was okay too, as long as they were busy with other things and other people, but now—Kris doesn’t know what to do with it.

“You’re done,” Adam says, running a finger down Kris’ throat, probably cleaning off extra shaving cream. The breath Kris lets out sounds shaky to his own ears.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, ready for this whole thing to be over yesterday, but Adam doesn’t step back. He grabs the towel from the counter and starts brushing it softly against Kris’ face. Kris feels all blood rush to his ears at the feel of the rough towel on sensitive skin. Adam bites his lip, looking down at Kris’ face in rapt fascination. Alarm bells go off in Kris’ head.

Kris tries to hold himself still as a statue, not even breathe, but his chest heaves as one of Adam’s hands lands heavily on his shoulder, the other still toweling his neck. Adam’s eyes are big and blue and deep enough to drown in. Kris thinks he hears someone whimper.

Adam stops, the hand that’s holding the towel falling down to his side. But his gaze is still stuck on Kris’ lips, and Kris finds himself licking them reflexively. Adam looks up like he was jolted awake.

“I should…” he says, taking an unsteady step back, one hand gripping the edge of the sink in a white-knuckled grip. Kris nods jerkily. He really should.

Adam takes another step back and Kris shivers, feeling suddenly cold—freezing. He finds himself reaching out and gripping Adam’s bare forearm before he can think about what he is doing.

“Maybe…” Kris says, not even sure himself what he means to say, but Adam nods as if he understands perfectly and fits his body against Kris’, his hands on Kris’ waist.

“Yeah,” Adam says, still nodding absently. He leans down until their lips are almost touching and then stops, a tiny gap between them. “We’re doing this?” he whispers, unsure and questioning.

Kris lets out a shuddering breath and pushes aside every reason why it may not be the best idea. It feels like the only idea.

“Yes,” he says firmly and pulls Adam into a kiss.

The End

September 7th, 2009