Morning

aka the morning after drabble

Kris kicks the covers off his legs and stretches. He feels tired and dehydrated, his lips cracked, his mouth dry. He opens one eye halfway to see if he has any water on the bedside table—and what he sees makes him blink and open both his eyes, suddenly wide-awake and very confused.

He is in bed with Adam. And they are both naked.

Kris pulls the covers back up instinctively.

“Mmmm. Kris?” Adam mumbles, still asleep, and reaches over to rest his hand, warm and heavy, on Kris’ neck.

Kris stops breathing.

Adam’s fingers move up and down along Kris’ neck, gentle and teasing, and Kris suddenly remembers the night before in bursts of disconnected images. Drinking a gallon of vodka tonic, kissing the guy in the black suit, and then Adam—Adam talking to him, Adam putting him to bed, Adam on top of him and under him and inside him…

Sweet mother of God.

Adam’s fingers trail down and Kris remembers the kisses—the never-ending kisses, on his lips and his neck and his chest and…

He comes back to the real world with a gasp and sees that Adam is now very much awake, blue eyes staring at him with apprehension, waiting for his reaction.

Kris looks down at Adam’s hand resting on the white sheet between them and feels the ghost of its touch all over his body. His thighs and his stomach tingle—with the memory of a touch, or with anticipation? He reaches out slowly, hesitantly, and then—laces their fingers together. Adam’s thumb caresses the back of his hand.

Adam smiles, the sides of his eyes and lips crinkling adorably. Kris licks his lips and says, “Good morning.”

The End

October 19th, 2009