Work Text:
Kiss One.
Picking at a hangnail, Adam rolls the pronoun around in his head. His. It was right, there was no room for doubt. The way his chest had relaxed for the first time in his life when one of the older women at the library had mistaken him for her grandson left no room for doubt. Scott came up over the hill, his stride long and confident as if he constantly had a shitty pop punk song playing in his head. Adam beamed at him all the same.
“There you are, Ace of Spades! Happy Birthday!” Scott slugged him in the arm, just hard enough to make Adam wobble on the fallen tree stump. Sitting, he bumps Adam’s shoulder, pulling a cigarette from his pocket with a breathy laugh. They huddle, hands wrapped around the flame of the lighter to protect it from the wind. Adam glances up to meet Scott's eye, the flame bouncing in his pupils, and for a moment it looks like a spark. Smoke curling up between them, they pull back a little, Scott rummaging around in his bag while Adam inhales.
“Don’t be weird, but I got you something-”
“I have to tell you something-”
They freeze and stare at each other, Scott laughs lightly, Adam would say he looks nervous if he had any concept of what nerves looked like on Scott.
“Can your thing wait, my things kinda important…” Reaching out for the cigarette, Scott’s tone is laced with irritation. Adam’s knee begins to bounce, the word no rings through his head. He has to say it, has to tell Scott, now or never. Instead, he clears his throat and nods. Scotts hands go back to rummaging, the cigarette hanging from his lips. Adam can’t resist watching the way his mouth curls around it, the way Scotts chest expands to inhale, the curl of smoke leaving his nose. He must find the thing he’s looking for, pulling back up and grinning wildly. Placing the cigarette between Adam's lips, the wet of his spit on the end makes Adam’s head spin a little. The box is red, velvet, it looks almost silly in Scotts grubby hands, looks far nicer than anything Adam’s ever owned. His mothers vanity is full of boxes like that, boxes he’s not allowed to touch.
“It’s not a big deal, I just thought maybe, Jesus, '' Scott laughs, his voice rough, kinda wavery. He throws the box, not meeting Adam's eye as he fumbles and manages to catch it with his one free hand. Pausing, not sure if he’s supposed to open it, he watches Scott reach for the cigarette and take a long drag.
“Open it dick.” Adam, dutiful as ever, does as he’s told. His stomach flips, the contents is the ugliest heart shaped silver necklace he’s ever seen. Tacky, and awful, it's something Scott could only have bought if he’d gone into a shop and asked the sales assistant for help shopping for his girlfriend. Scott starts to talk, Adam’s eyes glued to the plush cushion the necklace is held on.
“I was thinking maybe, i don’t know, we’ve been friends a while, which is fun, I’m having fun, but like everyone expects this thing from us, not that we should do anything cause people expect it, like honestly fuck them, but like we could ya know, if you wanted-”
“I’m a man.”
The silence is deafening, it sucks all the air out of Adam’s lungs. He’d had a whole speech, a perfect way of explaining it, he’d known exactly what to say. Now all he could do was watch Scott wrinkle his nose in confusion.
“What?”
“You know, like, transgender or whatever.” Oh yeah, very eloquent Stanheight. Scotts eyebrows shoot up, he sits back. Exhaling through his nose, he shakes his head smiling.
“Sure man, okay.”
There's a long pause, the sun has set behind the trees, Adam shivers slightly. Scott stands, putting the cigarette out on the log, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. The sound of glass knocking together tells Adam he’s more than prepared for the party.
“Come on, or we’ll be late for your own bloody piss up.”
Adam nods, sliding the box into his pocket, feeling kinda weird about keeping it, and follows Tibbs into the woods.
His piss up ended up being less of a party and more a group of drunk teenagers smoking whatever it was Scott had brought. If it was weed, then weed was shit. Adam slumps against a tree, laughing at his own joke. Okay maybe it had been weed. The others have started a fierce discussion about whatever horror film they'd all watched the other night, Adam turned away, facing the dark of the forest. He could just walk. How long till anyone noticed he wasn’t present, would they even notice at all. Eventually he’d have to tell more people than Scott. Speak of the devil.
“Stanheight, I was looking for you.” His speech is slurred, drawled, slipping over his sharp canines, catching on the edge with the light from the bonfire. He shifts, resting against Adam, who snakes a hand around his waist to stop him falling. Their hips bump, and Adam feels the jolt in his whole body.
“Scotty.” They grin at each other, clinking bottles together a little too hard.
“You ruined my confession today…had it all planned out.”
Adam bit back a remark about how Scott also ruined his, couldn’t get it out through the feeling of Scott leaning close to whisper in his ear. His stupid fucking whiskey breath was making Adam see stars, and he nearly made a noise when Scotts hands found his waist, squeezing gently.
“Bet you think this makes me a fag now Stanheight.”
Adam could barely shake his head, Scotts hand had snaked up under his shirt. He’d read enough shitty internet porn to know where this was going. Turning his head, he feels the scratch of Scott shitty stubble against his lips, trying to find the right angle in his hazy state. For a brief moment he considered that he always thought his first kiss would be a little less grimy, before Scotts mouth was on his, his tongue pressed down his throat like he’s trying to lick his tonsils. Adam's teeth clash with Scotts clumsily, he has to hold back a gag as Scotts tongue starts to swirl. Maybe kissing isn't for everyone.
Kiss Two
Adam had been cooped up for too long, he’d started seeing faces in the ceiling. Lawrence was letting him crash at his place for a bit, something about them being close made the nightmares a little less vivid. His stuff still lived in a duffle bag shoved under the bed in the spare room, and he was struggling to work out the social etiquette for using Lawrences towels. The only solace in it all had been his growing friendship with one of the girls from group therapy. Amanda was stretched across the couch, the bottle of white wine dangling from her fingers like a wealthy woman's cigarette holder. Lawrence was staying at Allions for the weekend to see Diana, a thought that filled Adam with an unjustified amount of anxiety. He’d called Amanda in a sweat, desperate to talk to something that wasn’t the ridiculously complicated coffee machine. She was grinning lazily, her hair sticking up in several places. Very rockstar. They’d reached the stage of the evening where their lips were getting too loose, Amanda had gushed about the hot doctor she was seeing, smiling at the ceiling as she recounted the kiss they’d shared at the end of their last date.
Taking a swig of his own cheap rosé, Adam couldn’t fight the shrug.
“I don’t think I really get kissing.”
Amanda laughed, catching his eye and stopping to blink in astonishment.
“What- thats not- whats to get its kissing?”
“I don’t know man, it's just too sloppy, and wet and oh god the tongue.” Adam scrunched his face up, shaking his head. Waving the bottle in front of him to emphasise his point, he continued.
“That's why I give so much head, to avoid the whole debacle.”
He was rewarded by a cackle, Amanda sitting up a little to take her own swig.
“What about when you’re not hooking up with someone?”
“What?”
“Ya know, when you’re just kissing, not fucking.”
Pausing, Adam took a long swig. Running back through his frankly long list of hookups he tried to conjure an example. A cruel laugh cracked up and out of him. Shaking his head he leaned forward, still laughing.
“I don’t think anyone's ever just kissed me.”
Amanda sat up properly, her face doing an expression that looked a lot like sympathy. Frowning, Adam shook his head again.
“Nah man, it's not like that. I’m just that hot, who can stop themselves.” But Amanda’s expression wouldn’t cease. There was a beat, a small piece of Adam snapped a little and his smile dropped despite himself. Lip wobbling slightly he tried to raise the grin again but his mouth suddenly weighed a tonne.
“Stop it, don’t- god, don’t look at me like that it's fine.”
Amanda was moving off the couch, settling in front of him on the floor. She gave him a lopsided smile, tipping her head to the side. Her fingers grazed his forehead as she pushed some hair out of his face. Resisting the urge to jerk away he let her gaze at him gently, enjoying the feeling.
“Adam Faulkner-Stanheight may I, as your completely platonic friend, kiss you just to kiss you.”
He took a shuddery breath.
“Promise?”
Taking his hand, Amanda rested it against her chest, letting him feel the pulse.
“Cross my heart.”
He let her.
Kiss Three
“This new furniture thrift shop opened up round the street, if you wanted a side table or a dresser?”
The doctor was leaning against the doorframe, one hand slightly in his pocket, the other on his cane. Glancing around the spare, Adam’s, room he appeared almost irritated by the lack of decoration. Shrugging, Adam slid off the bed, past Lawrence into the hall. What would be the point, he wouldn’t be staying long enough to enjoy the furniture anyway. He could hear the steady tap of Lawrence following behind him, could feel his stare on the back of his neck. His hand shot up to rub the spot instinctively. Stopping by the fridge, he turned, breath catching in his throat a little at the sight of Lawrence watching him.
“Can I use the milk?”
Lawrence shakes his head, moving forward to open the fridge and pass him the carton.
“You pay for half the groceries don’t you?”
Adam resisted the urge to roll his eyes, turning away from the doctor's gaze, his eyes back on the fridge. The shopping list hung from a magnet Adam had brought from his apartment, he didn’t remember putting it up.
“Hey, did you add this?” He gestures to the last entry to the list, veggie sausages. Lawrence had pulled a face when Adam had first put them into the freezer, he was pretty attached to his morning bacon. Adam had gone veggie for a girl, typical, but the habit had stuck.
“Yeah, I saw you were out.” His tone was so casual, he was moving around the kitchen counter to click on the kettle. Adam could feel his cheeks heat up, something about Lawrence noticing, checking, thinking of him when he wasn’t around. Panicking, he responded the only way he knew how.
“Sorry about still hanging around man, I’ll be out of your hair soon I promise. Once this job at the grocery store gets back to me, I mean they have to take me right? I can’t exactly not get a job at the grocery store. Then I’ll find somewhere more permanent I promise.”
Lawrence has his hand on Adam's shoulder and all the air left his lungs.
“Adam, what are you talking about?” His brow is furrowed and Adam can hear his pulse in his ears, when did he get so pathetic.
“You know, moving out, getting out your way.”
“Why would I want that?” The question throws Adam right off, because of course Lawrence would want that. The taller man's eyes are on him, endlessly blue, movie star blue, his eyelashes catching the evening sun streaming through the window. For a beat they just look at each other.
“Or I could stay?” Adam’s voice is quiet, Lawrence is so close he doesn't need to raise it, this moment is just for them anyway. A smile cracks across Lawrence’s lips, the apples of his cheeks turning pink.
“Stay.” Yes, anything you want, forever.
The image of Lawrence’s shoulders relaxing after work upon seeing Adam flashes across his mind, the cogs turn, Lawrence is still smiling, his hand still on Adam’s shoulder. Adam’s never closed the gap before, always been the one being kissed, always waiting open mouthed. The distance is centimetres, the distance is miles, years in the making. Lawrence’s eyes drop momentarily to Adam's lips, his tongue darting out to wet his own almost subconsciously. The breath gets stuck in Adam’s chest, but he pushes through it.
“Lawrence, can I kiss you?”
Lawrence is barely nodding a second before Adams mouth is on his, a little too eager, he laughs breathless as their teeth knock. Lawrence turns his head and lets Adam try again. Their lips fit like puzzle pieces, the warmth spreading across Adam's whole body. Oh. This is why people kiss each other. Lawrence leans forward, the hand on his shoulder moving to the side of his face to hold him in place, to keep him close. Adams lips part a little, Lawrence takes the invitation. For a moment Adam is tense, determined to push through his usual dislike of the sensation. But Lawrence’s tongue is slow, gentle, almost drawing a moan from Adam's throat. He sighs, pulling the man closer still. He could stay here forever, in this kiss for the rest of time, he hopes he can.