Just a Glance Away

aka allison's bad day

“You would sleep with me, right?”

Adam has been propositioned many times before, but never while sitting on a bench on a sunny Saturday afternoon, enjoying a cone of ice cream and minding his own business. He looks up at the girl with bright red hair; she doesn’t look like a hooker or anything. And the guy standing behind her, wincing, has disguised himself very cunningly in plaid if he is indeed a pimp. Judging by the color of his cheeks though, Adam doesn’t think that’s likely.

“Umm. No?” Adam says, watching the way her face crumples with alarm. He knows he is irresistible and all, but— “I’m gay,” he adds, louder than he intended, drawing looks from passers-by. He sighs. He is a magnet for crazy people. It’s his destiny.

“Oh!” she says, perking up slightly. Her eyes are shining bright with tears, but thankfully none have fallen. Adam hates making people cry. Except when he means to, then he kind of enjoys it. (Not that it happens a lot!) The girl drops herself down on the bench next to him.

“But you would have, right? If you were straight?”

Adam looks up at the guy in plaid for clues, but he has a hand over his eyes, looking ready to be swallowed up by the ground any minute now.

“I really don’t know,” Adam says, shrugging apologetically. “I’d sleep with him, if that helps,” he says, pointing to the plaid guy. He totally would; the guy is very cute. But seeing as he almost choked on his tongue, Adam has to guess that he is also completely straight. Pity.

“No,” she cries, chin beginning to wobble. “That really doesn’t help.”

She looks like her whole world just fell apart; her shoulders drop, her face falls and tears stream down her cheeks. Adam has always been a bit of a chick magnet, it’s a universal joke or something, but nothing like this has ever happened before. He thinks this probably isn’t just about him not wanting to sleep with her, but girls are weird sometimes, so he can’t really be sure.

“Allison,” the cute guy says sadly, kneeling in front of her and cupping her face in his hands. “You’re upset. Come on, sweetheart. Let’s just go home.”

Adam watches him brush her tears away. Tiny, cute and sensitive. That’s somehow unexpectedly hot. He wonders if the guy is Allison’s boyfriend. If so, the girl has some serious problems, propositioning guys in parks when she has that all to herself. He doubts they are involved though. They have more of a brother and sister thing going on.

He should probably just grab his stuff, get up and get away from the crazy people; that’s what he thinks is the rational thing to do, but instead he finds himself leaving the bench to get two more cones of ice cream.

It can be his good deed for the day, he reasons. And if he ends up getting the guy’s phone number in the end, well, that would be his reward for all that ice cream related good karma now, wouldn’t it?

~

The ice cream makes Allison smile through her tears and Adam counts that as a win. Kris with a K—the introductions were made; the cute plaid guy has an appropriately cute name—takes his own with a worried frown, like he's afraid Adam might have laced it with a drug or something—which Adam has never done without consent by the way—but Adam thinks he’ll be won over in no time. He has foreseen this and taken the necessary precautions; Kris’ cone has extra sprinkles on it.

“So, Allison,” Adam says, folding one leg under him and turning halfway around. “Why are you propositioning strangers?”

Her face falls again, her lips doing that funny pout-y thing. “Bad day,” she says.

Adam looks up at Kris, who is still stubbornly refusing to sit, and seems to be eating the ice cream only because he is too polite to throw it at his head. “Her ex-boyfriend got married today,” Kris explains, and that breaks the dam for Allison who launches into a story about the jerkface who dumped her three months ago, only to marry the first girl he met afterward. Allison went to the wedding apparently, where the guy completely ignored her, and Kris had to get her out of there before she started screaming her lungs out.

Adam shakes his head. Ice cream probably won’t cut it then. Vodka would certainly work better, but he is not sure if she is old enough to drink.

“Well, you’re lucky,” he says. “That’s a close call. You could have been the one marrying the asshole.”

Allison gives him a watery smile and sniffles. “That’s something, I guess.”

Kris’ look of distrust softens ever so slightly. Adam mentally pats himself on the back.

~

Adam tries his best for the next ten minutes, but it’s a puppy that finally gets Allison to laugh. She rolls on the grass playing with it, looking way too young to be worrying about people getting married.

“How old is she?” Adam finds himself asking Kris.

Kris stretches where he is (finally) seated on the bench, arms raised high above his head. His shirt pulls up a little, giving Adam a peek of skin. His fingers itch to touch it, but he shoves his hands in his pockets instead.

“Nineteen,” Kris answers.

“Jesus.”

“I know,” Kris says with feeling.

They stare silently at the mess of red hair shining like a beacon on the bright green grass. The puppy licks her face and Allison giggles. Adam doesn’t want to believe it has come to this; he is actually old and mature now. The girl looks like she belongs in kindergarten next to him.

“Sister?” Adam asks and studies Kris’ face as if he doesn’t already know the answer to that one. But of course he is going to make use of whatever opportunity he gets to stare. There is something curious about this guy. Adam is determined to figure him out.

“Neighbor,” Kris replies.

He doesn’t squirm under the scrutiny, so Adam decides that it would probably be okay to scoot a little closer and does so promptly.

“You always go around following your neighbors to weddings?”

Kris smirks. And damn it all to hell, he looks cute smirking too. “Nah, this one is special,” he says with a teasing glint in his eyes. Adam finds it hard to look away.

The silence is comfortable while they sit and watch Allison with the puppy, until Kris mumbles almost to himself “This is not what I thought I’d be doing today.”

“Me—this is exactly what I was going for,” Adam says, drawing a surprised chuckle out of Kris. “Seriously,” he says. “This happens to me every weekend. That’s why I come to the park.”

And there it is, Adam thinks. That’s the smile he’s been waiting for. They are practically friends already.

Adam has been trying not to stare at Kris’ lips since he first noticed his mouth—the ice cream was such a great idea. The way his lips move is fascinating to Adam. This particular smile he is wearing right now is small and simple, but it pulls his lips slightly sideways, and makes Adam want to trace the crooked line with a finger. And maybe Kris would lick his lips and Adam’s finger would slip inside—and, wow, he is so not going there.

“What were you doing at the park?” Kris asks, doing a bit of his own staring. It probably doesn’t mean what Adam hopes it does, but he doesn’t mind it either way. He likes being stared at by cute boys. That’s practically why he got into acting.

Adam pulls out his iPod, offering one of the earbuds to Kris, who raises an eyebrow at him in question but doesn’t refuse. He picks the song carefully, passing over the stupid stuff he recorded before, and finding the one he worked the most on; the one he recorded last week for his mother’s birthday. He made five different versions of it and was trying to pick the best one when Allison found him. He is slightly nervous as he presses play. He knows he has nothing to be ashamed of in the voice department, but it’s always a rush when he wants someone to really like him.

They are halfway through the song when Kris grabs the iPod to turn it towards him. His fingers are warm where they touch Adam’s, and Adam notes with interest that he has calluses on his fingertips.

“Is that—?” Kris asks, looking confused.

“Yeah. That’s me,” Adam says with a shrug, feeling as shy as he has ever been capable of.

Kris looks shocked. “Christ. What the hell do you do?” he asks.

(Adam takes that to mean that he approves of the song.)

“I sing. I dance. I act,” he says, right hand flying all over the place, his little embarrassment gesture.

Kris keeps looking at him. He has the most bizarre facial expressions. Adam raises his eyebrows at him as if to say what?

“Damn.” Kris shakes his head. “You’re good.”

Adam smiles, biting his lip. “Do you sing?” he asks.

The question seems to surprise Kris. He shakes his head dismissively.

“But you play the guitar,” Adam prods, nudging him with a foot.

Kris pulls a comically confused face this time. Adam grabs his hand, and runs his fingers over the calluses.

“Oh,” Kris says, rolling his eyes at himself. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t move to pull his hand away, but Adam can see his cheeks getting slightly pinker, so he lets it go with a soft caress to the inside of his wrist. The last thing he wants is to scare the guy away so soon, but he can’t be expected to resist even this. He is not a saint for God’s sake. (He thinks he sees Kris shiver, but that could just be his wishful thinking.)

“I want to climb that tree!”

Adam jumps a little at Allison’s voice. She is pointing at a huge tree a couple feet away from them, rocking excitedly on her heels. Adam takes in the high heeled shoes she is wearing and smirks at her, shaking his head.

“Not with those shoes,” he says. “Fucking fabulous as they are, I don’t think they were designed for climbing trees.”

She shrugs and takes off the shoes.

“Allison,” Kris whines. "Why?"

She points a finger at him. “Because I never have and I want to. Life is too short!"

Kris rolls his eyes. "What's that got to do with anything? You're heartbroken. You're not dying!"

"Because Kristopher!" she says, stomping her little foot on the grass. "Shut up."

That’s certainly a sound argument. Adam looks at Kris, who is staring at Allison’s back with resignation. Of course Kris isn’t going to just let her climb a tree all by herself. So Adam picks up the shoes and beckons Kris, making his way towards Allison.

This will at least make a funny story; climbing a tree to get a guy’s phone number. Unless he falls and breaks his neck, that is. Then it’ll just be pathetic.

~

It takes them half an hour to climb the tree; Kris doing most of the climbing and pulling the others up once he is there. Allison is ecstatic, so it is probably worth the hassle in the end, and Adam has to admit, he likes the view from up there. It doesn't hurt that Kris is plastered to his left side with practically nowhere to run. Adam thinks maybe he can even get away with putting his arm around him if he can find a believable excuse. He is an actor; he can totally pretend to be falling.

(He is having fun with this, he realizes, and not just with the climbing trees for crazy little girls thing. He doesn’t remember when he last had to put this much effort into a guy. It’s kind of refreshing.)

"God, I'm such a mess," Allison says, pulling out a tiny mirror from her purse and trying to fix her make-up. Letting go with both hands is not a good idea though; she slips a little and drops the mirror trying to grab onto Adam’s arm. "Ooops," she says with a giggle.

"Let me," Adam says, making sure she is holding on tight before he turns her face to him. “Look up."

Her mascara is smudged under her eyes; Adam uses his thumb to clean it, keeping his touches light so as not to hurt her. He is not that comfortable on the tree himself, so the end result is not perfect, but at least she is not a raccoon anymore.

"There," he says, pushing her hair back slightly. "All better."

"Thank you!" Allison beams at him. She leans forward a little to look at Kris. “He is so awesome. I picked an awesome guy to not-sleep with me.”

Adam smirks. He has a bit of a crush on Allison too, he has to admit. She is so wonderfully quirky. “The feeling is completely mutual,” he says. “I couldn’t have picked a better person to not-sleep with.”

Allison gives him a wicked grin.

“We should have brought booze,” she says, out of nowhere. “Wine, maybe.” She leans forward again, making Adam grit his teeth and grab her arm, as if he is going to be able to pull her up if she falls. Allison seems completely clueless though; she is busy begging Kris for drinks. “Come on, you’re like a monkey. You can buy it and bring it up here in like two seconds.”

“Of course I will,” Kris says. “So you can get drunk in a tree and fall off and crack your head open. Because that would be awesome.”

Allison pouts. “I totally wouldn’t.”

Adam nods at her sadly. “You totally would.”

“You’re both mean,” she says. “I’m hurting here. You’re supposed to be supportive and shit.”

“Friends don’t let friends drink and climb,” Adam says wisely.

Allison huffs in annoyance. “I can’t even drown my sorrows? What the hell else am I gonna do?”

“Get your hair done,” Adam suggests. Kris groans next to him. Adam spares him a glance; Kris looks like someone kicked him in the balls. Typical guy, Adam thinks fondly. (He has no idea when he started liking typical guys.)

“Oh my God, can we?” Allison says, looking ready to jump down and run to the nearest salon. “Your hair is so awesome," she says, running a hand through the blue streaks. "Maybe if I had awesome hair, guys wouldn't dump me to marry other chicks," she adds wistfully.

Kris groans. "For God's sake..."

"I completely agree with Kris on this," Adam says. "Enough about the asshole."

“The jerkface,” Allison corrects him.

“Whatever,” Adam says. "Let’s go do something about that hair."

~

Adam always gets his hair done at Sally’s place. It’s not that far from his apartment, which is right across the park from where Allison accosted him, so it takes them all of five minutes to walk. Sally is an old friend and a kick-ass stylist. She was doing hair and make-up for a show he had a part in about 6 years ago; it was a crappy show—the reviewer had slammed the acting but written ‘the only one deserving of a Tony-nod is Lambert’s hair’. Adam couldn’t possibly let her go after that.

Sally is a big girl, almost as tall as Adam. She has short blonde hair with pink streaks on the sides, and a no-nonsense attitude. Allison falls in love with her at first sight. Saturdays are always busy at the salon, but Sally squeezes Allison in between her appointments, bringing out the color palettes for her to look through as she finishes up with another customer.

Kris looks about ready to explode and they haven’t even started yet, so Adam finds him something to read and gets him settled in the farthest corner of the room, before he goes over to help Allison pick a color for her hair. They go with a dark purple, which Adam thinks will look great, and Sally says she’ll change the style a little bit too, shorten the sides maybe. He gets shooed away after a while, so he picks a bottle of black nail polish and takes the chair next to Kris.

Kris puts down the magazine in his hand—it’s a year-old copy of Elle, Adam realizes with a wince—and gives him a tortured look.

"What?" Adam says defensively. "She needed something. This is better than drinking herself stupid."

Kris sighs. He looks resigned to his fate.

"Seriously. Don't you have a girlfriend?" Adam asks, biting back a smile when Kris shakes his head no. "Well, I'm sure you've had one at some point. This is what they do when they’re stressed. Shopping, spa, hairdresser," he counts on his fingers. "And believe me, this is by far the cheapest."

“Are we talking about Katy?” Allison pipes in, appearing in front of them looking like an alien with all the pins and clips in her hair.

“No, we’re not,” Kris says, glaring at her.

“Why aren’t we talking about Katy? I think we should,” she says, nodding her head empathically.

Adam can tell she is trying to be annoying on purpose, baiting Kris, but that seems to be her default setting, so it probably doesn’t mean anything.

“Who’s Katy?” he asks, looking between the two of them.

Kris sighs and glares at Allison again as if saying look what you did. Allison doesn’t seem to mind. She appears to be immune to Kris’ glares.

“The legendary ex-girlfriend,” she supplies helpfully. “It’s an epic tale.”

Sally beckons Allison and she skips off, looking pleased with the havoc she’s wreaked. Adam loves how unapologetic she is. She reminds him of himself a little bit.

He turns to Kris. “So?”

Kris sighs. “She’s pissed because I’m not letting her set me up with this girl she knows.”

“And what was that about the ex-girlfriend?”

Kris shrugs. “Katy and I, we dated a long time, is all. I can’t just—” His hands do a little dance, which Adam interprets as letting go.

“How long?”

Kris makes a face and looks away.

“A year?” Adam hazards a guess.

Kris makes another face, but this time he doesn’t avoid Adam’s gaze.

“Two?” Adam suggests.

Kris’ face turns sheepish. Adam arches an eyebrow.

“Five?”

Kris takes in a deep breath. “Let’s just say really long, okay?”

“Holy crap,” Adam states. “And what happened?”

“She said I was putting off getting married, said I didn’t really want to.”

“And did you?”

“I had things I wanted to do before getting married. That’s all. I guess she wasn’t willing to wait anymore. Not that I blame her. She did wait a long time.”

Adam rolls his eyes. “If you’re with the right person, what does it matter if you’re married or not?”

Kris looks surprised. “That’s what I said.”

Adam smiles and shrugs. “So you’re hung up on your ex-girlfriend, and Allison wants to set you up on a blind date?” he summarizes the situation.

“I’m not hung up on her!” Kris objects. “I’m just—”

“Are you still in love with her?”

Kris stares at Adam, and maybe he is just thinking about the question, but it feels to Adam like he is trying to see inside his head.

“I don’t remember a time when I didn’t love her,” Kris says finally. He sounds sad. Adam suddenly feels like hugging him.

“That’s not the same thing,” he says.

Kris looks away. “Yeah, I guess not.”

~

The silence stretches a millennia to Adam, and even though it’s not particularly uncomfortable, he is just not good with staying still and quiet for long. He shakes the bottle of nail polish in his hand and takes off his shoes. It’s something to do.

Pushing his chair back a little, Adam places his feet on the armrest of Kris' chair.

"Do you mind?" Kris asks, sounding amused.

"Nope," Adam says, painting his toes one by one. He is practiced at this; it doesn't take him long to get both feet done. He lowers his feet back on the ground, and pushing his chair back to where it should be, grabs one of Kris’ hands.

“What are you doing?” Kris asks, staring at the brush in horror.

“You need a little color,” Adam explains, painting the nail of Kris’ thumb carefully.

“Black is not really a color.”

“Oh, it’s the best color,” Adam says.

Kris can pull his hand away if he wants to, and it makes Adam feel kind of giddy that he doesn’t. Instead he just watches their hands quietly.

Adam tries to take his time, but it’s just one measly nail, he can’t really stall that long. He has to clear his throat when he is done. He feels parched all of a sudden.

“It looks great on you,” he says.

“It looks weird on me,” Kris replies. “Some people are meant to wear nail polish and some people aren’t.” He shrugs. “It’s like the natural order of things or something.”

“Cosmic balance?” Adam asks, narrowing his eyes. That’s the oddest take on nail polish he has ever heard in his life, and weirdly enough, he’s heard many.

“Yeah,” Kris says, smiling, looking glad that Adam gets it.

“Hmm,” Adam says. “One second.”

He goes through a couple of drawers, ignoring the looks he gets from other customers, and comes back with a cotton ball. He shows the ball of wet, pink cotton to Kris as if doing a demonstration and takes the already slightly chipped nail polish off of his right thumb.

“There,” he says, putting their thumbs next to each other. “Balance restored.”

Kris is grinning widely at him, his nose scrunched up, his eyes almost closed. Adam doesn’t even know what to call that expression, but he loves it whole-heartedly.

“You’re completely nuts, aren’t you?” Kris asks.

Adam grins back at him.

~

Allison’s hair is as awesome as Adam thought it would be, and seeing Adam putting on eyeliner, she makes him fix her make-up too. Kris just shakes his head at them, but the smile doesn’t escape Adam. He has no fucking clue how he managed to find the one guy in this city who wears plaid and doesn’t even blink at his eyeliner. Now he wants even more than Kris’ phone number.

Allison leaves the salon almost floating, her shoes still in her hand, playing absently with her hair and smiling at everyone who looks her way.

Adam follows close behind, wearing a pair of flip flops he borrowed from Sally, it just doesn’t feel like the kind of day to wear shoes anymore, and Kris is walking next to him, their arms almost touching, a fond yet mocking smile on his face, probably asking himself how in the world he ended up with these two weirdoes.

“Told you it would work,” Adam tells Kris.

Kris rolls his eyes. “Yeah. You win. Whatever.”

~

Adam had plans for the night and is thinking of ways to get out of them when his phone rings. It’s Neil.

“Guess what?” Neil asks, sounding giddy and excited.

“Hi, Neil. I was just thinking about you!” Adam says with a saccharine sweet voice. It’s not a lie. He was thinking about how to say he wasn’t coming over without getting his head bitten off.

“I’ve got a date!” Neil announces, completely ignoring Adam. “I’ve got a date tonight with Alicia! Woo-hoo!”

Adam takes the phone away from his ear for a second. He needs both his eardrums. They are kind of essential to what he does for a living.

“Wonderful,” he says, sounding put-upon. (The acting thing kind of gets away from him sometimes.) “You’re blowing me off for a girl.”

“Fuck you. It’s not just a girl. It’s Alicia Roberts.” He waits for it to sink in. “Alicia fucking Roberts,” he repeats. He sounds like he can’t believe it himself.

“Yeah, whatever,” Adam says. “I’ll talk to you later I guess.”

When Adam hangs up, he sees Allison looking at him curiously. Behind her, Kris is very pointedly not looking at him.

“Boyfriend?” Allison asks.

Kris glances up at Adam, but looks away again very quickly. Adam loses his train of thought. It’s very distracting, the way Kris holds himself, so tightly coiled. He’s uncomfortable about something, and Adam wants to think maybe he is jealous a little bit, but that would most definitely be setting himself up for a fall. Kris probably feels uncomfortable about hearing a personal conversation.

“No,” Adam says to Allison. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” (Well, he had to squeeze that in. Just in case.) “That was my brother.”

He wraps an arm around Allison’s shoulders. “So I guess I’m free tonight. You guys wanna go get something to eat?”

~

They decide to walk down to the pier; Allison says she knows this great little restaurant there, and assures Kris that no, there will be no seafood involved this time. (She shares with Adam a story involving Kris, some shrimp and a lot of puke.)

It’s a warm night, great for a long walk. Adam doesn’t remember when he last took the time to enjoy being with someone like this doing virtually nothing. Today has been different in so many ways.

Allison is a walking-talking teddy bear. Her head is resting on Adam’s shoulder, her arm wrapped around his waist and she keeps up a steady stream of conversation whether they join her or not. She is warm and comfortable; it’s like they’ve known each other a million years and not just a couple of hours. Kris is walking alongside them, looking pleased and content, and if Adam could hold his hand or something, life would practically be perfect.

“…Kris is going to teach me how to play it on the piano.”

Adam has no idea what Allison was babbling about, but the words Kris and piano certainly registered.

“You play the piano?” he asks Kris.

Kris nods, looking shy and ready to blush any second.

“And the viola,” Allison interjects. “And the guitar.” She grins at Kris’ discomfort. “And he sings too!”

“Seriously?” Adam asks, getting another nod from Kris. The guy is just too good to be true. “Do you play anywhere? I’d love to hear you sing.”

Kris opens his mouth to answer, but Allison gets there first. “In his living room!” she says, rolling her eyes.

Kris gives her a longsuffering glare and Adam smiles at him.

“Then I guess you’re gonna have to invite me to your living room.”

~

They pass by a garden full of large, yellow flowers and Adam climbs over the fence to steal a couple of them. He can’t help it, it’s a compulsion. He’s done it since he was a kid. He remembers stealing the neighbor’s roses with Neil when they were kids and making tiaras out of them for his mother. These would have made great center pieces if he had some daisies to go with them.

Kris looks somewhere between amused and horrified as Adam places one of the flowers in Allison’s hair, right behind her ear. She runs ahead of them to look at it in a shop window, looking very much like the little girl Adam can’t help but think of her as. Adam offers the second flower to Kris, but Kris smiles and shakes his head no.

“Not really my thing,” he says.

Adam shrugs and breaks the stem off to place it in his own hair. Whatever. Yellow looks good on him.

“What?” he asks when Kris keeps looking at him with a small (beautiful) smile on his face.

“Nothing. Nothing,” he says. “You’re just—so comfortable in your own skin. It’s nice.”

“Thank you,” Adam says. (It took him a long time to get to where he is, and he is proud of it.) “So are you, by the way,” he adds.

“Well, I’m the definition of the average guy. It would be hard not to be comfortable with that.”

It’s not exactly self-deprecation, but Adam thinks Kris is selling himself short anyway. He is a lot more than average. Discussing a guy’s self-worth issues the day they met is not a good idea though, so he keeps his thoughts to himself.

“You’re comfortable with me, too,” he says instead.

Short of making out with another guy or wearing a dress in public, Adam threw everything he had in Kris’ face all day, and Kris didn’t even blink. He is not sure himself if he was testing the guy’s limits or just being obnoxious, but either way, Kris passed with flying colors. It’s unexpected to say the least.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Kris asks, looking slightly puzzled.

It takes everything Adam has to not grab him and kiss him there and then.

Of course . Why wouldn’t he be.

~

The restaurant is crowded when they get there, and they have to wait for a table. Allison gives the waiter specific instructions about just where they are to be seated—outside, at one of the tables with the comfortable chairs, not the green ones though, those are too old, all saggy in the middle.

Allison leaves them alone fifteen minutes in, because she has to pee like a racehorse or some shit and Adam finds himself digging into his mind to find the most hilarious stories from his childhood days, like when he and Neil put on shows and filmed each other and made a whole production with the neighborhood kids for a remake of Grease. It’s his newest hobby, he decides, making Kris laugh and watching his face as he does. It would make for a wonderful pastime; he can do it forever.

He’s not sure what pulls him out of his story, the place is noisy, he can’t have heard a voice or anything, but his eyes land on a middle-aged woman sitting at a corner table, one of the tables Allison wanted, and she is looking at him with such disgust, he recoils involuntarily for a second before he remembers himself. He is used to this by now, though it doesn’t usually happen unless he is wearing something bright or glittery. It’s probably the flower, he thinks to himself, but he’s not about to take it off because of some bitch who doesn’t know how to mind her own business.

Kris turns around to see what he is looking at, and it takes him a moment to get it. He looks surprised when he meets Adam’s eyes.

“Seriously?”

Adam shrugs. “Not everyone appreciates me being comfortable in my own skin.”

Kris, eyes big as saucers, turns around to look at the woman once again. (Adam guesses people don’t act like dicks in Kris-land. He kind of wants to live there.) When he turns back to face Adam, he has determination written all over his face.

“Screw her,” he says and grabs Adam’s hand.

Adam looks down at their hands stupidly, and then up at Kris’ face, and then at the woman glaring daggers at Kris’ back. He blinks. Things like this probably happen every day in Kris-land, he tells himself.

Out loud, he just says “Okay.”

Kris laces their fingers together.

~

Allison is still not back when they are finally seated, only two tables away from the bitch, and Kris still hasn’t let go of Adam’s hand. Adam is loving every second of it, and not just the touching, but also the look on Kris’ face, stubborn and determined and unbearably hot. It’s making him want to do things he shouldn’t even be contemplating in public.

Adam clears his throat and swings their hands a little under the table to remind Kris that they can actually stop holding hands now; it would probably make it easier to hold the menus. But Kris just pulls their tangled hands up to rest them on the table where everyone can see.

“How do you put up with this?” he asks, genuinely curious.

Adam shrugs. “You learn to ignore it.”

“You shouldn’t have to! Who the hell does she think she is, making you uncomfortable, when she is the one with the problem?”

Looking at Kris’ (cute) indignant face, Adam gets a completely crazy idea in his head which he should most definitely ignore, but he has never managed to ignore his crazy ideas in the past, so he doesn’t try very hard to resist this one either; it would probably be a waste of time anyway.

He pulls Kris closer by the hand, close enough that he can whisper to him. “Do you want to make her uncomfortable?”

He doesn’t give Kris time to answer the question. His lips are on Kris’ with his next breath, and he kisses Kris’ bottom lip, the one that’s been taunting him all day, soft and slow and chaste. He doesn’t want to be punched or anything, and he really doesn’t want to drive Kris away by doing something that can’t be explained away as a joke if he needs an excuse, he wants them to be friends if nothing else; so he pulls back after a couple of seconds and tries to smile. (Though his lips don’t feel much like moving after that.)

Kris isn’t smiling, or moving at all for that matter. Adam can sympathize; he thinks he has stopped breathing completely. They look at each other, the moment and the feeling frozen between them, until Adam has to pull his hand back and tear his eyes away. This is not the time or the place to be ravishing possibly-straight, plaid-wearing, cute guys, he tells himself firmly.

When he looks towards her, the bitch is gathering her bags to leave. Adam smirks at Kris.

“Mission accomplished.”

~

Allison saves them from the possible awkward silence with her babbling, and the conversation picks up soon enough. Adam is glad to see that the kiss didn’t really disturb Kris; that gives him reason to hope for more. If only he could get a moment without Allison there, he would find out how much more Kris is willing to give, find out if he’d freak out or kiss him back the second time around. But Allison is always there, the cock-blocking teddy bear that she is, and Adam has no time to try anything.

Kris nurses a glass of wine for an hour, and Adam makes himself stop after the second glass. He doesn’t want to get drunk and make an ass of himself. He needs to plan his attack, strategize, find a way to get Kris alone somehow.

He tries very hard to not stare at Kris throughout the meal, and Allison’s demands of attention help with that a lot, but his eyes keep drifting to his right. He now knows Kris eats his potatoes before his steak which he likes almost burned, and he uses cutlery with perfect precision, cutting his meat into neat little pieces. He doesn’t like broccoli or carrots, and he hates the wine, makes a face every time he takes a sip from it.

Kris has the top two buttons of his shirt undone—Adam doesn’t know how that happened and suspects himself of having secret powers of telekinesis. But however it happened, the skin peeking out from there is now calling to Adam. It is very tempting, shining slightly with perspiration. Adam can almost see himself peeling that shirt off him and burying his face in Kris’ neck.

(And that’s great. Now he’s getting himself all excited over nothing.)

During the meal Adam finds out about how Allison and Kris first met. They live in the same building, right across the hall from each other, and a couple of months ago their roommates got married. (“It was a beautiful ceremony,” Allison says wistfully.) After that Allison asked (“Begged,” translates Kris.) to move in with Kris, but Kris was adamant about them keeping both apartments. But Allison ended up with Kris’ key anyway, and now shows up whenever she feels like it. (“It’s not like I need the key,” Allison defends herself. “You never lock your door.”) So now, they kind of live together, but not really.

Adam does relatively okay until they are almost done with their deserts. Watching Kris eating (savoring) chocolate torte makes him squirm a little bit, but he perseveres until he notices the tiny drop of chocolate on his bottom lip. He could lick that off for him; he really, really wants to lick that off for him. It’s a challenge to pull his gaze away and he has to excuse himself to go to the bathroom before he does something rash.

Once there, he throws the wilting flower away and washes his face, wishing he’d put on make-up that morning, at least some foundation to cover the freckles up a little bit. How was he supposed to know he’d meet someone like Kris? He had no idea there were people like Kris. If he had, he would never have lowered his standards as much as he’s done in the past.

Kris and Allison are ready to leave when he returns to the table, and after a brief discussion over who gets the check (Adam does), they leave the restaurant. Adam is afraid they’ll want to go back home now, (he hasn’t had nearly enough time yet!) but Allison declares that they are taking a walk to work off the calories, so they go down the pier towards the beach.

Adam remembers another night like this, one he spent with Caleb, his first crush, and smiles nostalgically. Caleb wasn’t much like Kris, he was a blonde, had an athletic build, and they certainly didn’t have a third party with them that night, but there was a beach, and there was the summer breeze, and the rush of want he gets every time he looks at Kris feels close enough to what he felt back then. He hasn’t had that kind of innocence in his life in a long time, but Kris makes him think maybe he can do that—maybe he could even want to.

Allison picks a spot away from prying eyes and sits down, burying her toes in the sand. “Thank you for today,” she says, to Adam and Kris both. “I really had fun.”

Kris drops a kiss on her head. “I’m glad.”

Adam smiles at her. “I’m glad the jerkface didn’t win.”

“Me, too,” Allison agrees with a fierce look.

The wind has picked up a bit. Adam can see Kris shivering out of the corner of his eye. It’s time to call it a night; no matter how much he wishes that the night would go on forever, they have to say goodbye sometime. He is just about to suggest they start making their way home when Allison jumps to her feet.

“Oh! Hear that?”

Adam hears the waves, the indistinct voices of people down the beach, and there’s music…

“And the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie—” Allison starts to sing, dancing to the music with completely erratic and irrational moves.

Adam grins. “That’s amore,” he finishes for her.

She laughs and pulls him up, putting her arms around him and making him do a two-person version of her spastic dance with her. It’s easy choreography, something like turn, turn, turn, stop a bit so you won’t puke, and then turn, turn, turn the other way. He throws in a bit of twirling, and dips her quick and easy, making her laugh even harder.

“Bells will ring, ting-a-ling-a-ling, ting-a-ling-a-ling.”

“And you’ll sing ‘Vita Bella’.”

“Hearts will play, tippy-tippy-tay, tippy-tippy-tay.”

“Like a gay tarantella.”

Allison is singing in a funny voice, probably shooting for Dean Martin, but hitting something closer to Mick Jagger instead, and Kris is laughing at them, slumped on the sand, holding his stomach.

Thankfully the song is short, and the next one that comes on is a softer, slower song. Allison settles closer to him, snuggling up, almost like she is getting ready to sleep; she reminds Adam of a five year old, crashing after a sugar high. They continue to sway to the tune, Adam holding Allison up and humming quietly to himself.

It’s a few minutes later that he realizes he is being watched, and turns to catch Kris’ eyes on him. Kris isn’t looking at them; he is looking directly at Adam. Something catches in Adam’s throat when their eyes meet. There’s no mistaking that look. He doesn’t care how straight Kris thinks he is, that look is exactly what he’d been hoping to see all day. There’s interest and want in there, wrapped tightly in wonder. And the sense of surprise and wonder he can read in Kris’ eyes is unexpectedly exciting. He’s been among scene queens for too long, he thinks, if such a shy, small glance is affecting him like this. He wonders if this is why some guys prefer to chase after straight men. But Kris is not just any straight man; Adam doubts that he would be attracted to him if he was. This isn’t about just a thrill, it’s about Kris being who he is, honest, courageous, surprising, beautiful, and the huge crush Adam managed to develop in just one day.

Adam licks his lips nervously, and Kris’ eyes follow the movement. Kris is not nearly as naïve as Adam first thought he was, but Adam doesn’t think Kris knows what he is doing here anyway.

Adam doesn’t do this; wait around for a guy to decide if he even wants to kiss another man, let alone Adam himself. He usually just grabs the person he wants to kiss and goes to town. And generally speaking, they don’t fight back, or even hesitate, so he is not used to doing this slow and tentative dance.

This whole day was torture, and bit by bit Adam found himself going under. He doesn’t want to over-dramatize and make it more than it is, but the evidence speaks for itself here. His chest hurts. His stomach is in knots. He can’t pull his eyes away. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe.

It’s a crush to rival any he ever had.

And the object of his affection is wearing plaid.

~

Allison is half asleep as they make their way off the beach. Kris tells her to put on her shoes, afraid she’ll cut her foot, and she doesn’t even complain, just sits on the sidewalk to do as he says. They are standing side by side watching over her, their arms brushing, when Kris suddenly says “I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t—”

Of course he wasn’t. Of course he didn’t mean to. Adam knew the freak out would come soon enough. There’s a reason he doesn’t even think about the straight guys like that.

A stone settles low in his stomach. It was too good to be true anyway.

He offers Kris a (fake) smile. “Oh, don’t worry about it,” he says. This happens to me every day, he continues in his head. The cute, straight guys always lead me on and make me crush on them and then stomp on my heart. It’s not a problem or anything.

Adam grabs Allison when she gets up, and she smiles at him gratefully. At least she likes me, Adam thinks with a mental pout.

“It’s close,” Kris says, so they don’t take a cab. And even with Allison dragging her feet, they are at Kris and Allison’s place in fifteen minutes.

Kris helps him get Allison into the elevator, and presses the button for the top floor. Once there, he finds Allison’s keys in her purse and opens the door to her apartment. They dump Allison on the bed and leave her there with her clothes on. Kris drops her keys on the bedside table before they let themselves out.

Back in the hallway, Adam walks toward the elevator, only to be stopped by Kris’ hand on his shoulder.

“Come on,” Kris says, pulling him towards his own apartment. “You’re invited to my living room, remember?”

~

It’s a special kind of hell, standing around Kris Allen’s living room after thinking about it all day, and not even having the hope of ending the night with a kiss. Kris doesn’t look like a sadist—though you can never tell that just by looking at someone, Adam has learned that the hard way—Adam thinks Kris probably made himself believe that this would be okay now that Adam said sure, no worries, but of course it’s not. Adam would love to be Kris’ friend, but not tonight, for fuck’s sake, not right now.

He doesn’t hear Kris walk into the room and flinches a little at his voice so close to his ear.

“That’s Katy,” Kris says, pointing at the picture Adam is staring. She is a pretty girl, Adam can picture them together, they’d make a cute couple.

“She is pretty,” Adam comments, walking over to the couch and sitting down. He doesn’t really feel like talking about the girl Kris is still hung up on. “I was promised a mini-concert here, I think,” he says.

Kris smiles and blushes a little bit at that. He gets his guitar, holding it like a shield in front of him, and sits down on the armchair, facing Adam. “I’m not really good with an audience.”

“I can close my eyes if that helps.”

Kris grins at him.

“Okay,” Adam says and closes his eyes.

Adam has never been a lover of the acoustic guitar, the sound is too classic, too plain for him, but he likes this song. He doesn’t recognize it, but it’s good. And Kris’ voice is amazing—because of course it had to be, he has to have perfect everything since he is unavailable to Adam. Adam feels his heart speed up and slow down, keeping up with the beat, and a part of him wants to open his eyes, see Kris’ face as he sings, his mouth (God, his mouth) shaping those words; he’d be squinting his eyes, Adam is sure, he would look passionate and lost in the music, and he would—

The song ends and Adam finishes his thought; and he would look freaked out when Adam reaches out. That’s what it all comes down to.

Adam opens his eyes with a sigh to find Kris staring at him, again, like he was doing at the beach, with fire and wonder, and this is really not what he should be doing unless he wants to be molested in his living room, right there on his ugly, green armchair.

Adam clears his throat, but his voice comes out gravelly anyway. “You should really stop looking at me like that if you don’t mean to.”

Kris freezes.

“Actually, you know what,” Adam says, getting up. “I should just go.” He walks with small, fast steps, finds the way to the door at first try and is busy wondering if he can get a cab around here when Kris stops him.

“Wait. No.”

Adam turns around. “I should really—”

“That’s not what I meant when I said that.”

That stops Adam in his tracks. “Okay,” he says. “You’re saying you’re not freaking out?”

“No,” Kris says, shaking his head, but then amends. “Well, a little bit.”

Adam smiles and takes a step closer. “Okay,” he repeats. “You do know if I stay I’m going to kiss you, right?”

“I was kind of hoping—”

Another step and Adam is close enough to touch.

“Can I?” he asks, one hand hovering next to Kris’ cheek.

Kris nods.

Adam can almost see the sparks flying at first touch. Kris lets out a nervous breath and Adam bites his lips to keep his grin in check. It’s hard to believe it is finally really happening; with just one touch, it’s better than he thought it would be already. Kris’ smile is mesmerizing, and his skin is as soft as Adam imagined, and his breath is brushing Adam’s face now, and his lips are right there—

“Kris! I forgot to get Adam’s number. Did you—”

Adam groans and drops his head to Kris’ shoulder. For the love of God, will he never get to kiss this guy? Adam whimpers when Kris’ hand cups the back of his neck. Please, please, make her go away, he thinks.

“Oh!” Allison says. “I guess that’s not gonna be a problem. I’ll just uhm, leave you guys to it then.”

The door closes behind her, but before Adam can raise his head, it opens again. Allison runs over to wrap them both in a tight hug. Adam looks up at Kris, and they share a look, smiling and cringing at the same time.

“Guys!” Allison screeches in their ears. “I’m so happy for you!”

It takes Kris clearing his throat and repeating her name three times for her to let go. “Okay, okay,” she says. “I’m leaving.”

The door closes behind her once again.

“She just completely killed the moment and danced on its grave,” Adam says.

Kris laughs. “I really don’t care.”

Adam didn’t think it would be like this, Kris being the one to initiate the kiss and not the other way around, but he is not about to start complaining now. Kris’ hands are cupping his face and his lips are finally against Adam’s, kissing him softly but insistently. Adam traces his lips with his tongue, lingering on the spot where he saw that tantalizing drop of chocolate, and delves inside his mouth, drawing out a long moan from him. His hands grab Kris’ stupid plaid shirt, and he pulls him in closer, their bodies flush against each other, fitting together like puzzle pieces. Finally. Finally.

Kris pulls back, trying to catch his breath. Adam’s lips curl up into a small smile, his hand caressing down Kris’ neck; Kris looks flushed and breathless and so beautiful.

“I think you should know, I have a crush on you,” Adam says, placing a small kiss on Kris’ bottom lip.

He feels Kris grin against his lips.

“Yeah?” Kris rasps. “That’s good, because I might just have a crush on you too.”

Adam nods. “Maybe I’ll stay a while then.”

Kris pushes himself up on his toes to give him a long, hard, wet and completely dirty kiss.

“Stay for breakfast,” he says.

Adam does.

(They remember to lock the door.)

The End

August 3rd, 2009