Tangled

aka the prostitute drabble

Adam wakes up with a start, and almost falls off the gurney.

“I got you,” Kris says, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to guide him back.

Adam lets himself inhale the familiar scent of him. He smells like medicine mixed with chocolate fudge; it should be disgusting, yet Adam loves it. There has been times in the past when he came to the clinic just to get a whiff of that scent.

“If it isn’t my favorite doctor,” Adam says with his most seductive drawl.

Kris scowls at him. “If you think you’re my favorite patient, you’re very much mistaken.”

Adam pouts at him, pushing his bottom lip out as far as it can go.

“I don’t like seeing you here,” Kris says. “Or having you bleed all over my floors.”

Adam sits up to look. He has indeed bled all over the floor. He must have dropped the bandage the nurse gave him to put pressure on the cut when he fell asleep. He yawns. It was definitely worth it though. He would have willingly bled a whole lot more for that ten minutes of uninterrupted sleep.

“Admit it, you like seeing me anywhere.”

Kris refuses to rise to the bait. He grabs Adam’s arm to check the wound. It’s a clean cut, just needs to be wrapped up. Adam is not very worried about it.

“How did that happen?”

Adam smirks. “I ran into a door.”

Kris takes in the clothes Adam is wearing; the black, sparkly top and the skin tight leather pants. It’s Adam’s favorite fuck-me getup; makes all the boys—and of course the dirty old men—go crazy.

“Of course you did,” Kris says.

He shakes his head disapprovingly and focuses on the wound, cleaning and bandaging it in quick and efficient moves. Adam loves watching his hands when he does his thing. He never thought practicing medicine could be considered an art form before he met Kris. Now he knows better.

“Thanks,” he says when Kris lets his arm go, and runs a finger up Kris’ chest slowly.

Kris looks at him nonplussed. “I still don’t want a freebie,” he says.

Adam rakes a nail along Kris’ shirt to settle his palm over his heart. “Then what do you want?”

Kris looks away. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

Kris is stubborn and strong; Adam loves that about him. He is passionate about his ideas and helping people, even if they are prostitutes. But he can also be unexpectedly naïve at times.

Adam chuckles incredulously. “Don’t tell me you want to take me away from this life?”

Kris looks up at that, his eyes ablaze, angry and hurt. Adam regrets the ridicule in his tone. Sometimes the character gets away from him; he forgets he doesn’t have to be that with Kris—that he shouldn’t be that with Kris.

“I’m—”

“You can go now,” Kris says dismissively, taking off and throwing away his gloves. “We’re done here.”

He turns away to leave, and Adam moves before he can think better of it. His hand lands on top of Kris’ on the door handle, and he turns Kris around to push him up against the wall.

Kris doesn’t struggle, just looks up at him breathless and defiant and angry. His lips are slightly parted, closer than ever before, right there for the taking. Adam feels him shiver under his hands, and something low in his belly flutters in response.

Their first kiss tastes like chocolate and fireworks.

(Adam doubts they will ever be done.)

The End

August 6th, 2009