fic: he rings my bell (2/2)
he rings my bell (2/2)
part one
“You had sex,” is the first thing Megan says, Monday morning before Spanish, peering at him intently.
Kris gapes at her. “Shut up,” he says.
“Oh my God, you did!” Megan’s mouth drops open. “Holy crap, dude, I was just guessing!”
“It’s none of your business,” Kris says fiercely, blushing hotly.
“Did you guys go…you know, all the way?” Megan asks, eyes wide and a grin spread across her face. “Was it like, romantic, or a spur of the moment thing? And oh oh, you’re okay with it, right, like it was a good thing, I should’ve asked that right away - “
“Megan, would you please - “
“Excuse me,” interrupts the teacher, looming behind them disapprovingly, “with your permission I’d like to start class, is that all right with the both of you?”
Kris nods, and Megan smiles sweetly. “Of course Miss Bolen, we were just discussing the homework from last night. Muy difícil, whew!”
Miss Bolen studies Megan critically before frowning and moving to the front of the classroom to start the lecture.
Kris rolls his eyes as Megan pokes his shoulder, hard, as soon as Bolen turns her back. “Are you trying to get detention?” he whispers.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she hisses.
“I’m fine, it was a good thing,” he whispers back hastily, “we’ll talk about it later, okay?” Megan makes a duh face at him.
She corners him at lunch, cutting a freshman in line to scoot up next to him, nudging his arm with her elbow. Waggling her eyebrows as they carry their trays to a table, she pounces before he even has a chance to sit down.
“Details,” she demands, “and be specific, this is important.”
“Um, in your dreams,” Kris replies.
Megan pouts. “Come on.”
“It was - fun,” Kris concedes.
“Fun?” Megan bounces slightly. “Ohmigod. Did you…you know?”
“No,” Kris says on a sigh. “But we did - enough.”
“Ohmigod!” Megan says again, grinning. “Was it good?”
“Yes,” says Kris, and buries his face in his lunch tray.
“How many times?”
“Okay that, I’m not answering,” Kris says sourly.
“Oooh, more than once then,” Megan replies. “So things are good? With you two?”
“Yup,” Kris says quickly, staring intently at his applesauce. “So did you finish algebra?”
Megan stares him down, unimpressed at his pathetic attempt at a subject change. “Things are good, with you two?” she repeats.
“I already said they were,” Kris says, irritated.
“You were very insincere, with your ‘yup,’” Megan says critically. “Is it floppy-haired guy? Did you ask about him?”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” Kris declares.
“Well, I do,” Megan shoots back. “Did you?”
“No,” Kris mumbles.
Megan pokes his arm angrily. “Idiot! You’ll have sex with the guy but you won’t ask him a simple question?”
“Could you possibly say that louder, I don’t think everyone heard you,” Kris says, poking her back.
“Why didn’t you ask him?” Megan asks. “I thought you were gonna.”
“Well - I was.” Kris gives up on eating, pushing his tray away with a grimace. “I found this - note thing, though.”
“From floppy-haired guy?” Megan questions, eyes wide.
“Yes, he signs his name ‘floppy-haired guy,’ Megan,” Kris says sarcastically. “It was some dude named Tommy, I dunno if it’s the same person or not.”
Megan’s eyebrows crease together and she props her chin on one hand, studying Kris intently. “What kind of note was it?”
“In a book.” Kris tilts his head back, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming. “Like it was a gift, or something. And he put this quote in the beginning.”
“What kind of quote?” Megan asks, frowning. “Cuz - I mean, it might just be like, a friendly thing. I mean hell, my mom does that when she gives me books.”
“It was more than a friendly thing,” Kris insists. “Or - at least, it seemed like it to me. A little. And - whatever, okay, it’s just weird, because Adam’s never mentioned him before. Why wouldn’t he tell me about him?”
“Well what did he say when you asked him about it?” Kris mumbles something unintelligible, looking away, and Megan pokes him in the arm again. “You idiot!”
“Ow! Would you quit it?”
“So let me get this straight,” Megan says crossly, crossing her arms on the tabletop and staring at him through narrowed eyes. “You have floppy-haired guy, who Adam may or may not have been flirting with at the party, who may or may not be this Tommy character, who may or may not be giving him more-than-friendly gifts, and Adam may or may not be deliberately keeping this from you.” She ticks the points off on her fingers and levels her best bitch please look at him. “And this entire situation may or may not be complete nonsense, but you refuse to actually, you know, do the logical thing and ask Adam about it. So.”
Kris fidgets. “Well, of course it sounds stupid when you lay it all out like that.”
“That’s because it is stupid,” Megan says sensibly.
Kris sighs. “He’s not cheating on me, okay,” he says, and Megan opens her mouth to speak. “No I mean - you were the one who made me that quiz, okay, and I know why you did that, but he’s not. He wouldn’t. That’s not why I - that’s not why.”
“Then explain, please,” Megan says, a bit impatiently.
“It’s like - “ Kris breaks off, trying to gather his thoughts. “It just seems stupid, sometimes,” he finally blurts. “Like - who stays with the person they date in high school? The only people who do that end up working at the dollar store and popping out babies and being miserable until they die, and Adam is so emphatically not that kind of person, and neither am I.”
Megan twists her mouth. “Agreed. And not just because popping out babies would be anatomically impossible for you two.”
Kris raises one eyebrow, and she smirks. “What I’m trying to say,” he says pointedly, “is that it just seems - like, ridiculous, to hope that this will work out, and keep working out. We’re both really young, right, and Adam’s in LA now, meeting all these new people and doing new things and it’s like - you’re supposed to date a whole bunch of different people, right? You’re not supposed to find the love your life in eleventh grade.” Kris blushes furiously, biting his lip and looking away. “Not that Adam’s the love of my life or anything - that was stupid.”
Megan is silent for a moment, looking thoughtful. “You can’t pay attention to what you think it should be like,” she finally says. “If you care about Adam, and you want to be with him, then be with him. It’s as simple as that.”
“It’s not as simple as that though,” Kris argues. “He’s in college, Megan - “
“And you will be too, soon,” Megan interrupts. “And so what, okay. Things are changing - things always change. If your relationship is strong enough, then it’ll change too.”
“I don’t know,” Kris says hesitatingly.
“C’mon, think about it,” Megan says. “Your parents have been together for like, decades. Do you think they’re the same people now that they were back in like, 1970? Or 1980, or 1990?” Megan shrugs. “Of course not. People change - the trick is to find someone who will change with you.”
Kris nods silently. That makes a whole lot of sense - but then again, Megan always makes sense, so he shouldn’t be surprised. “Yeah, I see what you’re saying.”
“Is this like - “ Megan pauses, tilting her head at him. “Are you more afraid that he might be cheating on you, or that he might be leaving you behind?” Kris looks away silently. “Okay, you don’t have to answer that,” she says kindly. “Just think about it.”
Megan lets it go gracefully, after that, and later, when the bell rings, she leans in and kisses his cheek, smiling affectionately at him over her shoulder as she walks away, heading in the direction of her locker. He smiles back, feeling the strange mix of gratitude and exasperation that he constantly associates with her. It’s a good feeling, overall.
--
Midterms sneak up on him quickly, and for the next couple weeks Kris is mostly immersed in a Composition paper that he’d procrastinated on for too long. Adam has midterms too, though his are a lot more intense than Kris’s, so their conversations taper off into texts here and there when either of them find the time. Since Kris can’t have his phone on him at school, it becomes an awesome thing to look forward to at the end of each day, to turn his phone on as he walks home and watch as the back-loaded texts pop up one by one, a concentrated burst of Adam, all at once.
The drunken ones are the best, since Adam is hands down, the sappiest person in the world after a few drinks. Most weekends, Kris wakes up without fail to a deluge of messages ranging from incoherent lines quoted from songs to random things like I miss your stupid jokes, tell me a stupid joke so I can pretend you’re here and I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day. They are comforting, if Kris is completely honest with himself, because if Adam is texting him sappy things, then Adam is undoubtedly thinking sappier things. And, though Kris feels guilty for even thinking about it still, probably not doing anything remotely sappy-like with any floppy-haired people.
Then Thanksgiving break happens, and Adam gets an extra-long weekend, and he shows up unexpectedly, a day early, leaning against his car nonchalantly in the high school parking lot.
“You asshole,” says Kris, and pounces on him.
“I missed you too - mmph,” Adam says, interrupted by a kiss. “Hello,” he mumbles against Kris’s mouth, and Kris makes a somewhat greeting-type noise in response.
They break apart to the sound of cat calls, and Kris turns in time to see Cale leaning out of his dad’s car window, whistling at them and grinning.
“Who is that jackass yelling at us?” Adam teases. “This town, seriously.”
“I’m telling him you said that,” Kris says.
“That is so not intimidating,” Adam says, glancing over the top of his sunglasses at a group of freshmen guys walking by. They scowl and glare, and Adam happily slides his hands into Kris’s back pockets, swinging him from side to side gently. “Oh, freaking out the football players, definitely missed that. Yup.”
“I still have to attend this school you know,” Kris says bemusedly. “And if I get called ‘fag’ in the locker room tomorrow I’m blaming you.”
“If you get called a fag then I hope you take down their personal information so I can heinously murder them,” Adam says lightly, the barest hint of a threat in his tone.
“That would certainly mess with your scholarship,” Kris comments, leaning in and looping his arms around Adam’s neck, ignoring the glances from the students mingling around them. “What are you even doing here? Not that I mind.”
“Picking up my boyfriend from school, duh,” replies Adam. “Like I’m gonna let you walk all the way home. Please.”
“Well damn, where the hell have you been every single day since the beginning of the year?” Kris asks.
“Of course, you throw that back in my face,” Adam says, pulling away and opening the passenger door with a flourish. “You are so picky.”
“Not true,” Kris replies, picking up his bag from where he’d dropped it in his haste for Adam-kisses. “If I were picky I probably wouldn’t even be with you, so count your blessings, stud.”
Adam gasps, slapping Kris’s ass as he climbs in the car. “Little shit,” he says fondly. Kris sends him a grin.
They go back to Kris’s house and endure Kimberly Allen’s motherly fit of joy upon seeing Adam again, smothering him in a hug that would make any lesser man cringe in horror. One benefit to Adam being incredibly charming - Kris’s parents love him, sometimes more than they love Kris. The downside to this, however, is that Kris often finds himself in the position of fighting with his mother for his boyfriend’s attention.
She insists on making them a snack, which turns into a full-fledged meal, complete with appetizers. Adam sits on a stool behind the kitchen counter and eats mozzarella sticks, one leg pressed up against Kris’s casually, chatting with Kris’s mom animatedly as she cooks.
“You know you’re welcome for Thanksgiving, Adam,” Kim says, draining a pot of pasta into a coriander in the sink, steam rushing up and fogging the window. “If Leila’s not doing anything that is. In fact, if she isn’t, y’all should come over, we’ll do a dual-family thing. Sharing the bounty - very in the spirit of things, don’t you think?”
“Kind of like the first Thanksgiving meal,” Kris comments. “Only instead of pilgrims and Indians, it’s Christians and Jews.”
Adam snorts with laughter. “Heartwarming,” he says. Kim rolls her eyes, making a face at Kris, who smiles innocently. “I’ll ask her,” Adam continues. “I haven’t talked to her since yesterday, but I doubt we’re doing anything too official. Usually we just go out on Thanksgiving.”
“Go out?” Kim says, aghast. “No home-cooked meal? Now that’s a tragedy.”
“No, the tragedy would be my mother’s home-cooking,” Adam replies. “Trust me, we leave it in the hands of professionals.”
“Well, you have to come over then. My sister’s helping me cook this year and we’ll have more food then we’ll know what to do with,” Kim says. “You know what - I’ll call her myself. I haven’t talked to her in awhile, anyway - Kristopher, would you mind finishing this?” Kim waves at the pasta, and the separate pan of sauce, bubbling lazily on another burner. “Just keep stirring this until the timer goes off.”
“Sure, Mama.” Kris rises obediently, taking the spoon from his mother’s hand and ducking out of the way as she goes to ruffle his hair.
“Be right back,” she says, and wanders off towards the living room.
Adam scoots up behind him as soon as she’s gone, pressing a kiss to Kris’s ear. “Guess we’re doing Thanksgiving together,” he says.
“I guess,” Kris says, faking annoyance. “I was so hoping to get rid of you, too.”
“You will never be rid of me,” Adam says, twisting his voice into the lower register and sounding like a dorky, overdramatic vampire.
“Do you need a cough drop?” Kris says, barking with laughter as Adam wiggles his fingers up his sides. “Quit it, unfair, unfair!”
Adam obeys, instead slipping his hands beneath Kris’s shirt, scratching lightly at his waist with his fingernails. “I’ve been thinking about doing this all day,” he says, flattening one palm on Kris’s stomach.
Kris turns around in response and latches his arms around Adam’s neck, reaching up for a silent kiss. Adam hums approvingly, biting at Kris’s lower lip in greeting.
“Whatever you two are doing in there,” Kim calls from the other room jovially, causing Kris to jerk in surprise, pulling away abruptly, “I don’t care, but don’t you dare burn my pasta sauce.”
“We won’t,” Adam calls back, laughing delightedly at Kris’s embarrassed expression. “I love your mom,” he says.
“You can have her,” Kris mutters, rolling his eyes.
--
Adam insists on driving Kris to school the next morning, like he used to do before he graduated. It’s a little nostalgic, and also wonderful, curling up in the passenger seat and listening to the morning countdown on the radio, Adam blinking sleepily, a cup of coffee steaming in the cup holder. They used to do this all the time, just drive to school together every day, and it had always made Kris feel stupidly happy. Something about how simple and nice it was.
He drops Kris off with a lazy kiss, trying to nudge him out of the car as the bell rings shrilly, laughing as Kris stubbornly stays put.
“You’re late,” he says wistfully, trailing his fingertips down the side of Kris’s face.
“Somehow, I think they’ll survive without me,” Kris replies, and ends up skipping first period. (They used to do that all the time, too.)
He’s twitchy and anxious all day, the combined effects of day-before-break jitters and the thought of Adam waiting for him at the end of the day working him up until he can hardly sit still. Megan spends all of Spanish poking him every time he looks at the clock, and he ends up with a bruise in the shape of her pencil on his right shoulder.
She follows him out when classes finally let out, running past him and beating him to Adam’s car with a triumphant grin.
“Adam!” she says joyfully, wrapping him up in a huge hug. “You didn’t stick around to say hello to me yesterday. How rude.”
“Super Megan,” Adam greets, grinning widely. “I was distracted. It’s Kris’s fault. Be mad at him.”
“That’s a lie,” Kris protests, and Megan shoots him a playful scowl. “Get off my boyfriend, please.”
Megan huffs and pulls back. “Pushy,” she scolds, then grabs Adam’s arm and winds it around her shoulders. “Sooo, what are we doing tonight?”
Kris stares at her, a little gobsmacked, but Adam just laughs.
“Whatever we want,” he says grandly. “We’re young, we’re beautiful, we have a car with a uh…mostly full tank of gas. The possibilities are endless.”
The possibilities are not, actually, endless, despite Adam’s enthusiasm however, and they end up at Megan’s house, hanging out in her basement while her dad grills steaks for dinner upstairs. Kris latches onto the graphite acoustic immediately, his favorite of the array of guitars from Megan’s mom’s collection, tooling around with it as Adam leans lazily against his leg.
“Is this what you two do, now that I’m gone?” Adam says mournfully. “What happened to the wild adventure, the all-night parties, the crazy shenanigans?”
“When did we ever have shenanigans?” Kris asks. “Even before you went to school, we never had shenanigans. This has always been pretty much it.”
“There were one or two shenanigans,” Megan protests. “Maybe like, mini-shenanigans. Like the time we convinced Daniel that Mrs. Smalley was in love with him.”
Adam lets out a loud bark of laughter, nudging Kris’s knee sharply. “Oh my God, I forgot about that. He couldn’t decide whether to be psyched or freaked out.”
“Or when we went to that Killers concert,” Megan continues, grinning, “and that slutty chick with the neon green sunglasses kept hitting on Kris, and you were all pissed but it was before you guys were together so you couldn’t do anything about it.” Megan cackles. “That was hilarious.”
Kris groans. “Yeah, Megan, real hilarious.” Adam makes a face at her sourly, cracking into a grin when she crosses her eyes at him in response.
“Whatever, we totally have shenanigans,” Megan says. “We have lots of shenanigans, Lambert, you don’t even know.” She sticks her chin out stubbornly. “Just last week we went to Godfather’s with Cale, and ran out and stuck him with the bill while he was in the bathroom. So there.”
“Impressive,” Adam says, mirth overflowing in his voice. “How long did it take you to pay him back, Kris?”
Kris ducks his head, blushing. “I didn’t pay him back,” he says unconvincingly.
Megan cackles. “You folded like a wet napkin! Don’t think I didn’t see you slipping him a ten at lunch the other day.”
“Shut up,” Kris says, and Adam laughs, scratching at Kris’s leg affectionately. “Okay, we’ve established that I’m lame. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Why don’t you play something instead of just messing around?” Adam suggests. “I haven’t heard you play anything in forever.”
“Yeah, dude, do the song you did at the open mic,” Megan says. “I was thinking about that the other day - what if we made it into a duet?”
“What song?” Adam asks, surprised. “You played at the open mic?”
Kris stops playing abruptly, but Megan steps in before he can say anything. “Yeah, it doesn’t have a name yet, but it’s awesome. It went really well, too. The manager even asked him to come back next month.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Adam asks quietly, swiveling his head to look up at Kris.
“I just - forgot, I guess,” Kris says lamely, picking at the strings idly. Adam frowns, tightening his grip on Kris’s ankle briefly before letting go completely. “Megan was the one who got the standing ovation, anyway,” he says, louder, ignoring Adam’s scrutiny.
Megan rolls her eyes, smiling bashfully. “There were only like, five people there.”
“That’s still wonderful, Meg,” Adam says, a bit more reserved than before. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short, you have a great voice.” He pauses. “Both of you do.”
Megan’s dad, calling down to them from upstairs, quells any response. “Dinner’s ready, guys.”
“Thanks Dad,” Megan calls, climbing to her feet. “You can play it later, yeah? I really think it’d work with both of us singing on it - you said you were thinking of bringing it up a bit higher anyway, right?”
“Right,” Kris replies, standing and carefully setting the guitar back on its stand. “Yeah, I guess we can mess around with it later.”
“Awesome.” She grins and dashes up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Kris goes to follow, but is stopped by Adam’s hand on his arm.
“I forgot about the open mic,” he says. “You told me you were gonna perform, didn’t you? Shit.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Kris says hastily, but Adam shakes his head.
“It kind of is,” he replies. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ve been distracted, and stuff, with the show, and everything,” Kris says. “I wasn’t mad or anything.”
Adam studies him for a few moments before smiling, sliding down Kris’s forearm to take his hand. “I’m still sorry,” he says.
“Well, I forgive you,” Kris says, and heads for the stairs, pulling Adam along and swinging their hands back and forth. “C’mon, I’m starving.”
“You’ll have to tell me all about it,” Adam says, dutifully following Kris up the stairs. “Every detail. And sing at the next one, too. I’ll come down to watch you.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Kris says, halting mid-step and looking over his shoulder.
“I want to,” Adam corrects, smiling softly and nudging him. “Duh.”
Kris smiles back, a little tremulously, a burst of pleasure tingling down his spine. “Okay,” he mumbles, turning back and resuming his journey up the stairs.
Adam squeezes his hand tightly, rubbing his thumb over Kris’s wrist, and follows, half a step behind.
--
Leila accepts Kris’s mom’s invitation for Thanksgiving dinner gratefully, and offers to bring a pie. Upon stern advice from Adam, Kim assures her that they’ll have more than enough.
Adam and Kris spend most of the day out and about, avoiding both of their houses - Kris’s beleaguered mother, sure to enlist both of them with some task or another in the preparation of her Thanksgiving feast (she’s a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to holidays; Kris has learned this the hard way) and at Adam’s, a sour, fresh-from-a-breakup Neil. So they go shopping, sort of, if browsing at Barnes and Noble for an hour and a half and then watching as Adam wistfully peers in the windows of clothing stores he can’t afford counts as shopping.
By the time they return, the house is filled with pleasant Thanksgiving smells. Leila and Neil arrive not long after, pulling up in Leila’s cranky old station wagon. They merge seamlessly into the fabric of Kris’s family, Neil retreating to the living room to watch the parade on the DVR with Daniel and Kris’s dad, Leila hopping up on a dining room chair to chat with Kim over appetizers.
Kris pulls Adam away discreetly as soon as Kim’s back is turned, and they sneak up to Kris’s room before anyone notices. As soon as the door is shut Adam is all over him, pushing him further into the room and onto his bed, pressing kisses into any spare inch of skin he can reach.
“Mmph - Adam,” Kris says breathlessly, “we are not doing this with both our families downstairs - oh - “
“It doesn’t turn you on?” Adam rumbles, tugging at the waistband of Kris’s jeans with a smirk. “That anyone could walk in on us at any time?”
Kris looks up at him in faint horror. “Um. No?”
Adam laughs. “Guess that’s not a kink then. Okay.”
Kris huffs, scooting backward on the bed, readjusting so he’s not hanging off the edge precariously. “The idea of my mother walking in on us does not strike me as particularly sexy, no.”
“Well why’d you bring me up here then?” Adam grouses, slapping Kris’s thigh playfully. “Mixed signals much?”
“I thought you’d like a break before dinner,” Kris says, shrugging. “With all the happy family stuff, and everything.”
Adam’s gaze softens, and he gives Kris a look dangerously close to adoring. “That is the sweetest thing ever.”
Kris grins bashfully, shrugging. Adam’s parents have been divorced for awhile now, but Adam still gets itchy and weird about it sometimes. It’s really for Kris’s benefit that he prevents it, honestly. “Well, I try.”
“And succeed.” Adam grins unabashedly. “And you know what else would be sweet?”
Kris narrows his eyes at him. “What?”
“If we had some of your mom’s deviled eggs,” Adam says, wide-eyed and innocent. “They would definitely, totally make me feel better.”
“You want me to go steal you eggs,” Kris says flatly. “I’m gonna get caught and then we’ll be forced to go down and watch the parade and you’ll have to make small talk with my dad about the Snoopy balloon.”
Adam pouts slightly. “At least your dad is here,” he says, and Kris rolls his eyes. “Also, remember that time you kissed the drunk guy? Yeah, I still feel really bad about that, too.”
“You are shameless,” Kris says with a groan, but rises to his feet anyway. Adam just grins at him.
He sneaks down to the kitchen, cutting through the breakfast room instead of the foyer so he doesn’t get caught. There’s a close call with Leila but Kris emerges unscathed with a platter of deviled eggs, scrambling back upstairs before anyone notices.
“Okay, that was totally ninja,” he says, kicking the door closed with his foot. “And I figure we have maybe twenty minutes before they remember we exist, so…”
Adam turns around from where he’s standing by Kris’s desk, frowning deeply, and Kris stops talking abruptly. In his hands is a very familiar three-ring binder, and Kris’s stomach sinks.
“Were you going through my stuff?” Kris blurts.
Adam raises one dangerous looking eyebrow. “It was lying open on the floor,” he says dryly. He holds it up. “So, I’m probably cheating on you?”
Kris sets the plate of food down on the night stand carefully, noticing distantly that his hands are trembling. “No,” he says slowly, “I - it’s a joke.”
“A joke,” Adam repeats flatly, swinging the binder around and flipping a page sharply. “‘Enough funky suspicious behavior to make me go uh-oh means uh-oh for you and Adam,’” he reads, and Kris winces. “‘Don’t confront him or anything, since it’s all circumstantial, but keep your guard up and be on the lookout for any more obvious warning signs?’”
“Adam, it’s - not what you think,” Kris says feebly.
“So you and Megan weren’t trying to figure out if I was fucking around on you?” Adam says, snapping the binder shut with a harsh movement of his hands. His voice is angry and sharp, echoing in the small bedroom.
“Okay,” Kris says weakly, “maybe it is what you think.” Adam flings the binder onto the bed angrily, and Kris takes an involuntary step back. “No, no, look - I never thought you were cheating on me, never, okay, Megan’s just - pushy, I mean you know what she’s like - “
“She doesn’t do shit like this for no reason, Kris!” Adam argues. “What, like she just decided that I might be cheating on you one day, with no explanation?”
“She was blowing it out of proportion!” Kris replies. “There - look, can I just explain?”
Adam glares at him. “Yeah, kind of waiting for you to do so.”
“Adam, please.”
Adam blinks, blowing out a tense breath and uncrossing his arms. When he speaks again, he sounds calmer. “Okay, explain.”
“At the party,” Kris says, clenching his fists at his sides and trying to ignore the nervous knots in his stomach, “I saw you - with a guy.”
“What?” Adam says sharply.
“Not - not with a guy, just talking to a guy, I mean,” Kris says quickly. “It was this dude with blond hair and these like, streaks in it, and half of it was shaved all weird - “
“Tommy,” Adam interrupts, and Kris flinches violently.
“R - right,” he stammers. “Um. And I guess it just bothered me a little - not because you were doing anything wrong, you weren’t - it just made me think about all the new people you were probably meeting and hanging out with, and I got worried that maybe you - “
“Would cheat,” Adam says flatly.
“No,” Kris counters. “Well, yeah I guess, maybe - but not like - I mean you would never mess around on me. Ever. I know that, Adam.” Adam’s shoulders fall slightly, a bit of the tension dissipating. “But I thought - maybe, if you met someone else, and started to have feelings for them - like you couldn’t help that, if that happened.”
Adam is silent for a few moments, staring intently at the carpet. “So you told Megan,” he finally says, “and she made you…this,” he says, gesturing at the quiz. “And you took it?”
“Cale made me,” Kris says weakly.
“Oh great,” Adam says, throwing up his hands. “So basically all your friends think I’m a scumbag.”
“No! Just Cale and Megan.” Kris winces. “I mean, not that they think you’re a scumbag. They don’t! Just, they’re the only ones I talked to about it. And I didn’t even mean to with Cale, he just found it one day, and…” Kris trails off with a sigh. “I need to stop leaving my crap all over the place, obviously.”
Adam shakes his head, tensing up again. “But they - you think I would cheat on you? Like, you think I’m capable of that?” he says, and he sounds more hurt than angry, and something splits open in Kris’s chest.
“Emotionally! Emotionally cheat,” he says frantically. “It’s not - you wouldn’t just like, hook up with someone else, I know that, that’s not what I - “
“Kris, that’s even worse!” Adam exclaims. “What have I possibly done to make you think that I’m not committed to you? Like honestly.”
“Nothing,” Kris insists. “Nothing, okay, this is my problem, my stupid emotional crap, all right?”
“Why didn’t you talk to me about it?” Adam demands. “All this time, you’ve been worried that I was like, falling in love with someone else, or whatever, and you just didn’t say anything?”
“I didn’t - “ Kris stops, blocked by the lump in his throat. “I didn’t want to…I don’t know. I didn’t want you to think I - “
“So you kept quiet about it,” Adam interrupts. “And just worried about it, and talked about it to anyone who wasn’t me, and that makes sense how, exactly?”
“I don’t know,” Kris spits in frustration, crossing his arms across his chest defensively. “And why didn’t you tell me about Tommy, anyway?”
“I don’t tell you a lot of things!” Adam exclaims. “I didn’t tell you that I ran out of toothpaste last week, or about the girl in my lit class who shared her Twizzlers with me, or how the garbage truck comes at five am every Saturday and wakes me up, I mean - Jesus, do you want a minute by minute replay of every day?”
“Don’t be an asshole, okay,” Kris says angrily. “I’m trying to be honest with you and you just - “
“No, you’re telling me the truth finally because I cornered you,” Adam corrects harshly. “Because apparently it’s too much to ask for you to be honest willingly, I have to force you into it.”
A loud knock on the door interrupts Kris’s fierce response, and Kris’s mom pokes her head in. “Guys,” she says sharply, “you are aware that this room is not soundproof?”
Adam turns away with a sharp intake of breath, rubbing his hands over his eyes, and Kris turns around angrily. “Thanks for the tip, Mom,” he snaps.
Kim levels him with a look. “You two can figure this out later,” she says sternly. “This is Thanksgiving, and I don’t care what you’re fighting about, it can wait until after dinner.”
“Mom, can you just - “
“You’re right,” Adam interrupts, turning around and ignoring Kris’s glare. “I’m really sorry, Mrs. Allen, this is incredibly rude of us. Kris and I can talk later.”
“Thank you, Adam,” Kim says, swinging the door open wider. “Why don’t you two come down and pretend like you’re happy to spend time with your families?”
Adam shoots past her into the hallway before Kris can react, not looking back, and Kris follows reluctantly, wilting beneath the power of his mother’s stern glare.
What follows is easily the most stilted, awkward evening of Kris’s life, as Adam proceeds to avoid him completely, taking refuge in the living room with Neil, Daniel and Kris’s dad. Kris’s attempts to catch his attention go ignored, and he eventually resigns himself to helping his mother in the kitchen, making small talk with her and Leila and ignoring the elephant that’s pressing hard on his chest.
Adam is animated and energetic at dinner, talking animatedly with Daniel, of all people. Kris sits across from him and watches as he smiles and jokes with everyone at the table except for him. From the glances shot his way from his parents, that he and Adam are in a fight is obviously evident to everyone, and Kris kind of wants to melt into the carpet.
Kris is helping clear the table when Adam finally approaches him, leaning in as he grabs a stack of dirty plates. “We need to talk,” he says.
“Obviously,” Kris snaps, turning on his heel and striding into the kitchen.
Adam follows close behind. “Don’t snap at me, okay,” he says irritatedly, setting the plates on the counter carefully.
Kris glares at him. “Come on,” he says, grabbing Adam’s arm and pulling him away. Ignoring Daniel, walking past them with his own pile of dirty dishes, he pulls Adam through the patio doors onto the deck, sliding them shut behind him. “So, let’s talk,” he says, and lets go abruptly, sinking down into a chair and crossing his arms.
“This isn’t going to work if you’re just gonna be all pissy,” Adam says, moving to lean against the railing, crossing one boot over the other lazily.
“Don’t do that, don’t be all condescending like that,” Kris says fiercely. “I hate it when you do that.”
“Fine,” Adam replies. “Then you stop sulking like a five-year-old.”
“Oh screw you,” Kris snaps, anger flushing through him hotly. “Like you’re acting so mature, giving me the silent treatment at dinner.”
“Whatever,” Adam says sharply. “Can we not? Can we please just talk this out like normal people?”
“Fine, let’s talk,” Kris says, tight with frustration. “That’s why I brought you out here, isn’t it?”
“Fine,” Adam says shortly. “Let’s talk about how I’m an evil bastard who’s going to break your heart, then.”
“Oh, please,” Kris mutters. “Yes, let’s be overdramatic, that’s going to help.”
“Fuck you, overdramatic,” Adam says angrily, “I have a right to be pissed off about this, do not try and tell me I’m overreacting.”
“I’m not saying that,” Kris says evenly. “I was trying to explain to you how I felt, and instead of listening to me you got angry, and you wonder why I didn’t tell you?” He scoffs. “Cuz this is going so well.”
“I wouldn’t have reacted like this if you hadn’t hidden it from me,” Adam says shortly. “Fuck, Kris, this isn’t some stupid thing, okay - the minute we start lying about shit like this is when this all starts to fall apart.”
“Well it’s not exactly easy for me you know,” Kris says angrily, “you live in LA now and you go out every weekend and you’re doing all these amazing, cool things, and you’re much happier than you ever were, living here - don’t argue with me.” Kris points at Adam threateningly. “And I knew this was gonna happen, okay, I knew it. You’d go off and find this fabulous life, that you deserve, and I’d just be here, sitting, waiting, doing the same damn things I’ve always done.”
Adam’s eyes bug out slightly. “Kris, oh my God - “
“Shut up, okay,” Kris says shakily. “I don’t need you to reassure me. I don’t. I don’t want you to tell me I’m being stupid or insecure or whatever either, because you know I’m right.” He looks away then, unable to keep meeting Adam’s wounded gaze. “And I’m sorry, okay, I am. I should’ve told you, like, talked to you about it, but I just - couldn’t. Because you’re always busy, and when we do see each other it’s never for very long, and I don’t want to make you feel guilty or whatever, that’s stupid.”
“I would’ve made time,” Adam says, stricken.
“I - “ Kris shakes his head. “Adam, it’s just - things were okay, they were. It’s just - me being stupid, and worrying, okay, and things with us have been amazing, I didn’t want to screw it up.”
Adam shakes his head. “Kris, don’t you get it? You worrying is not stupid. You worrying is a problem. I am your boyfriend, okay, this is a 50/50 relationship - or it should be. When you feel something like this, you have to fucking tell me. I can’t read your mind.”
“I didn’t want you to - “ Kris blurts desperately, cutting himself off abruptly and crossing his arms.
“Didn’t want me to what?” Adam says, and crosses over to sit in a chair across from Kris. “Get angry? Dump you?”
“Maybe,” Kris mumbles.
“Oh my God,” Adam mutters in exasperation. “Look, Kris. You live two hours away from me, my phone bill is ridiculous, I blow half my paycheck every month on gas, and I still only get to see you once every couple of weeks, maybe. Nothing about this relationship is convenient right now, but I don’t care.” He grabs Kris’s hands, holding them between his, pressing little circles of white into Kris’s wrists with his fingers. “I am not dating you because it’s easy, or I don’t have any better options, or whatever you’re thinking, I’m dating you because I love you, and I want to date you. The end.”
Kris flushes, ducking his chin into his chest. “I know.”
“Really?” Adam questions. “Because if you really knew how I felt about you - like really believed it - then I don’t think we’d even be having this conversation.”
“I just don’t understand - “
“What, honey?” Adam prods him.
“Like - why you’re with me, sometimes,” Kris says, blushing hotly. “And I don’t need you to give me the list of why you think I’m awesome, okay, really. That’s just - how I feel, okay.” He takes a shaky breath, palms sweaty in the circle of Adam’s hands. “It’s like, there are so many more exciting people you could be dating, and I know - “ he breaks off, frustrated. “I know what you’re gonna say. It’s not like I think I’m this totally boring person who doesn’t deserve you or anything, like I know all the reasons why we work, okay, it just - doesn’t completely feel like that, sometimes.”
Adam grimaces, digesting that for a moment. “I - what do you want me to do?”
“Nothing,” Kris says firmly. “Nothing, I don’t need you to do anything. It’s just - how I feel. It’s not because of anything you did.” Adam’s grip on Kris’s wrists tightens until he can practically feel the bones grinding, but he stays silent, waiting for Adam to respond.
“I love you,” Adam finally says, haltingly. “So much. I don’t know…what else I can say.”
“I love you too,” Kris says quietly.
Adam sighs. “Look. I want to make this work, more than anything. Do you?” Kris nods hastily. “Okay, then, let’s make this work. I will do anything that I need to do to make you…not feel that way. And to make you never, ever have to worry that I would ever, ever cheat on you.” Adam’s eyes tighten, a tinge of hurt creeping back into his expression. “Because I wouldn’t. For the record.”
“I don’t know what you need to do though,” Kris says, frustrated. “It’s - jeez, Adam - “
“Well what made you think I wouldn’t have fucking time to talk to you about this, then?” Adam says. “Like - I know I’m busy, okay, and there are times that I can’t pick up the phone or drive down to see you or whatever, but - I mean, I will make time for you. And if I’m talking too much or not paying attention to you or whatever - then tell me, and I will change it!” He shakes Kris’s wrists, hard. “And yeah, that’s what you need to do, okay. You need to communicate with me, Kris, that is so fucking important.”
Kris nods. “I’ll try.”
“No, don’t try, do. Seriously.” Adam frowns. “When you’re mad at me, then get mad at me. When something bugs you, then let me know, okay. Even if it’s like, the smallest thing ever, okay. Keeping quiet about it doesn’t mean it goes away, it just builds up in your chest until you explode.”
“Okay,” Kris responds, “then, you snore.”
Adam blinks, then laughs, a short, surprised burst. “Not exactly what I meant, but a good start.”
“And I found the note from Tommy,” Kris continues, before he can lose his nerve, “in the book in your dorm.” He shrugs sheepishly. “That’s why I was weird, that night, about going to the party.”
Adam stares at him blankly. “What book?” he asks.
Kris groans. “Oh, you’re kidding me.”
“No seriously, what book?” Adam pushes. “I mean…Tommy gave me this whole stack, I don’t know…”
“Still Life with Woodpecker?” Kris says. “He wrote an inscription inside the front cover.”
“He did?” Adam says. “Oh, okay. I hadn’t even looked at that one yet.” He smiles sheepishly. “What did it say?”
“I dunno exactly,” Kris mumbles, shame faced. “It was just a little…overly familiar? I guess?”
Adam sighs. “Yeah,” he says. “Kris - Tommy’s like that with everyone, though. I mean - he’s just a friend. Seriously. I haven’t explained this yet, and I should’ve.” He shakes his head. “I wasn’t like, keeping him from you exactly. He was on the crew for Fiorello, that’s how I met him, and we were working late one night - not alone! - and we got to talking about books, and he said he had this whole box he was trying to get rid of, and that he’d pick out some for me that he thought I’d like.” Adam shrugs. “He’s just - one of those people, you know, like really nice and flirty and kind of - in your business, a little? But not in a bad way, you know, like in this genuine, sweet way.”
Kris nods. “Why didn’t you ever mention him to me?” he asks quietly. “I mean - I don’t want a…minute by minute replay,” he says, and Adam winces slightly. “It’s just - you usually talk a lot about your friends, and I hadn’t ever heard his name before when I found the book, and…”
Adam nods thoughtfully. “I can see why you…I mean, how that looked weird,” he concedes. “I honestly just - didn’t think about it. It never came up. He was at that party, though, and I would’ve introduced you then, if that makes any difference.” Adam shrugs. “I don’t know, Kris. I’m really sorry.”
Kris shakes his head. “It’s okay.” He takes a deep breath. “I should’ve just asked you about it.”
“Yes!” Adam says triumphantly. “Because it’s nothing! Really. Kris. Tommy - he’s straight. Allegedly, anyway, but whatever - and even if he weren’t, it wouldn’t matter because I’m with you.” He quirks a small smile. “And I am with you, you know. One hundred percent. Like - I don’t even really look at other guys anymore.”
“Well,” Kris says, grinning hesitantly, “I know that’s not true.”
“Shut up,” Adam says. “Okay, maybe I do look. Occasionally. But very briefly, and it’s usually contained to people on basic cable.”
“It’s okay if you look,” Kris says. “And it’s okay if you…flirt, or have like, crushes or whatever. Like, that’s normal, right?” He shrugs. “I don’t care.”
“If I did ever get a crush on someone - like someone that I knew,” Adam says, “I would tell you. And I’d hope you’d tell me.” Kris nods quickly. “Yeah, see, honesty, baby. Key word.”
“I understand. I get it.” Kris shakes his head. “I’m - sorry. Really sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Adam says. “This is good.” He cradles Kris’s face in his hands gently, sliding his thumbs down Kris’s cheekbones. “It’s good that this happened, that we had this conversation.”
“I’m still sorry about the quiz,” Kris says, shivering as his jaw brushes the heels of Adam’s hands. “And overreacting and - I’m kind of an idiot, basically.”
“You are so far from being an idiot that it’s ridiculous,” Adam replies. “I love that you - that you spend all this time thinking about other people, okay, because that’s really where this comes from. You putting me above yourself.” He shakes his head, expression somewhere between tender and exasperated. “You do that all the time, especially with your family. And with me. And I love you, and I love your heart, so much. So much. I love that you do that with me, but it just - you shouldn’t. Because your feelings are just as important as mine are.”
Kris nods, unsure if he can trust himself to speak.
“Okay, so this is good,” Adam murmurs, almost to himself. “It’s a good thing. Trust me. Things are gonna be different now, we’re gonna make them different. We just have to try our best, right?”
“Right,” Kris replies, voice hoarse. “Kiss me first.”
“Love to,” Adam replies, and leans in. Kris meets him halfway.
Kris feels slightly dizzy, almost drunk, head spinning as Adam slides his hands down his shoulders, pulling away after a too-short moment to rest his forehead against Kris’s.
“We can do this,” Kris mumbles, reaching out and grabbing onto Adam’s thighs, just to have something to hang onto.
“Yeah, we can,” Adam agrees. “Although it should be noted that your hands really need to be a few inches lower, considering half your family is spying on us from your bedroom window.”
Kris jerks his hands away like they’re on fire, not even bothering to turn around. He knows Adam’s right. “Oh, God.”
“I love your mom,” Adam says fondly. “Have I said that yet?”
“A few times.” Kris laughs despite himself, stretching slightly, cramped from being hunched over too long. He feels almost weightless, a heaviness he hadn’t known existed now gone from his shoulders. “They were probably taking bets on how long it would take us to make up, anyway.”
“And we are made up, right?” Adam asks, threading his fingers through Kris’s.
“We’re good,” Kris assures him, feeling the sentiment settle between them, heavy and right.
“We’re good together,” Adam corrects.
Kris squeezes his hand. He can’t disagree.
End.
part one
“You had sex,” is the first thing Megan says, Monday morning before Spanish, peering at him intently.
Kris gapes at her. “Shut up,” he says.
“Oh my God, you did!” Megan’s mouth drops open. “Holy crap, dude, I was just guessing!”
“It’s none of your business,” Kris says fiercely, blushing hotly.
“Did you guys go…you know, all the way?” Megan asks, eyes wide and a grin spread across her face. “Was it like, romantic, or a spur of the moment thing? And oh oh, you’re okay with it, right, like it was a good thing, I should’ve asked that right away - “
“Megan, would you please - “
“Excuse me,” interrupts the teacher, looming behind them disapprovingly, “with your permission I’d like to start class, is that all right with the both of you?”
Kris nods, and Megan smiles sweetly. “Of course Miss Bolen, we were just discussing the homework from last night. Muy difícil, whew!”
Miss Bolen studies Megan critically before frowning and moving to the front of the classroom to start the lecture.
Kris rolls his eyes as Megan pokes his shoulder, hard, as soon as Bolen turns her back. “Are you trying to get detention?” he whispers.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she hisses.
“I’m fine, it was a good thing,” he whispers back hastily, “we’ll talk about it later, okay?” Megan makes a duh face at him.
She corners him at lunch, cutting a freshman in line to scoot up next to him, nudging his arm with her elbow. Waggling her eyebrows as they carry their trays to a table, she pounces before he even has a chance to sit down.
“Details,” she demands, “and be specific, this is important.”
“Um, in your dreams,” Kris replies.
Megan pouts. “Come on.”
“It was - fun,” Kris concedes.
“Fun?” Megan bounces slightly. “Ohmigod. Did you…you know?”
“No,” Kris says on a sigh. “But we did - enough.”
“Ohmigod!” Megan says again, grinning. “Was it good?”
“Yes,” says Kris, and buries his face in his lunch tray.
“How many times?”
“Okay that, I’m not answering,” Kris says sourly.
“Oooh, more than once then,” Megan replies. “So things are good? With you two?”
“Yup,” Kris says quickly, staring intently at his applesauce. “So did you finish algebra?”
Megan stares him down, unimpressed at his pathetic attempt at a subject change. “Things are good, with you two?” she repeats.
“I already said they were,” Kris says, irritated.
“You were very insincere, with your ‘yup,’” Megan says critically. “Is it floppy-haired guy? Did you ask about him?”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” Kris declares.
“Well, I do,” Megan shoots back. “Did you?”
“No,” Kris mumbles.
Megan pokes his arm angrily. “Idiot! You’ll have sex with the guy but you won’t ask him a simple question?”
“Could you possibly say that louder, I don’t think everyone heard you,” Kris says, poking her back.
“Why didn’t you ask him?” Megan asks. “I thought you were gonna.”
“Well - I was.” Kris gives up on eating, pushing his tray away with a grimace. “I found this - note thing, though.”
“From floppy-haired guy?” Megan questions, eyes wide.
“Yes, he signs his name ‘floppy-haired guy,’ Megan,” Kris says sarcastically. “It was some dude named Tommy, I dunno if it’s the same person or not.”
Megan’s eyebrows crease together and she props her chin on one hand, studying Kris intently. “What kind of note was it?”
“In a book.” Kris tilts his head back, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming. “Like it was a gift, or something. And he put this quote in the beginning.”
“What kind of quote?” Megan asks, frowning. “Cuz - I mean, it might just be like, a friendly thing. I mean hell, my mom does that when she gives me books.”
“It was more than a friendly thing,” Kris insists. “Or - at least, it seemed like it to me. A little. And - whatever, okay, it’s just weird, because Adam’s never mentioned him before. Why wouldn’t he tell me about him?”
“Well what did he say when you asked him about it?” Kris mumbles something unintelligible, looking away, and Megan pokes him in the arm again. “You idiot!”
“Ow! Would you quit it?”
“So let me get this straight,” Megan says crossly, crossing her arms on the tabletop and staring at him through narrowed eyes. “You have floppy-haired guy, who Adam may or may not have been flirting with at the party, who may or may not be this Tommy character, who may or may not be giving him more-than-friendly gifts, and Adam may or may not be deliberately keeping this from you.” She ticks the points off on her fingers and levels her best bitch please look at him. “And this entire situation may or may not be complete nonsense, but you refuse to actually, you know, do the logical thing and ask Adam about it. So.”
Kris fidgets. “Well, of course it sounds stupid when you lay it all out like that.”
“That’s because it is stupid,” Megan says sensibly.
Kris sighs. “He’s not cheating on me, okay,” he says, and Megan opens her mouth to speak. “No I mean - you were the one who made me that quiz, okay, and I know why you did that, but he’s not. He wouldn’t. That’s not why I - that’s not why.”
“Then explain, please,” Megan says, a bit impatiently.
“It’s like - “ Kris breaks off, trying to gather his thoughts. “It just seems stupid, sometimes,” he finally blurts. “Like - who stays with the person they date in high school? The only people who do that end up working at the dollar store and popping out babies and being miserable until they die, and Adam is so emphatically not that kind of person, and neither am I.”
Megan twists her mouth. “Agreed. And not just because popping out babies would be anatomically impossible for you two.”
Kris raises one eyebrow, and she smirks. “What I’m trying to say,” he says pointedly, “is that it just seems - like, ridiculous, to hope that this will work out, and keep working out. We’re both really young, right, and Adam’s in LA now, meeting all these new people and doing new things and it’s like - you’re supposed to date a whole bunch of different people, right? You’re not supposed to find the love your life in eleventh grade.” Kris blushes furiously, biting his lip and looking away. “Not that Adam’s the love of my life or anything - that was stupid.”
Megan is silent for a moment, looking thoughtful. “You can’t pay attention to what you think it should be like,” she finally says. “If you care about Adam, and you want to be with him, then be with him. It’s as simple as that.”
“It’s not as simple as that though,” Kris argues. “He’s in college, Megan - “
“And you will be too, soon,” Megan interrupts. “And so what, okay. Things are changing - things always change. If your relationship is strong enough, then it’ll change too.”
“I don’t know,” Kris says hesitatingly.
“C’mon, think about it,” Megan says. “Your parents have been together for like, decades. Do you think they’re the same people now that they were back in like, 1970? Or 1980, or 1990?” Megan shrugs. “Of course not. People change - the trick is to find someone who will change with you.”
Kris nods silently. That makes a whole lot of sense - but then again, Megan always makes sense, so he shouldn’t be surprised. “Yeah, I see what you’re saying.”
“Is this like - “ Megan pauses, tilting her head at him. “Are you more afraid that he might be cheating on you, or that he might be leaving you behind?” Kris looks away silently. “Okay, you don’t have to answer that,” she says kindly. “Just think about it.”
Megan lets it go gracefully, after that, and later, when the bell rings, she leans in and kisses his cheek, smiling affectionately at him over her shoulder as she walks away, heading in the direction of her locker. He smiles back, feeling the strange mix of gratitude and exasperation that he constantly associates with her. It’s a good feeling, overall.
--
Midterms sneak up on him quickly, and for the next couple weeks Kris is mostly immersed in a Composition paper that he’d procrastinated on for too long. Adam has midterms too, though his are a lot more intense than Kris’s, so their conversations taper off into texts here and there when either of them find the time. Since Kris can’t have his phone on him at school, it becomes an awesome thing to look forward to at the end of each day, to turn his phone on as he walks home and watch as the back-loaded texts pop up one by one, a concentrated burst of Adam, all at once.
The drunken ones are the best, since Adam is hands down, the sappiest person in the world after a few drinks. Most weekends, Kris wakes up without fail to a deluge of messages ranging from incoherent lines quoted from songs to random things like I miss your stupid jokes, tell me a stupid joke so I can pretend you’re here and I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day. They are comforting, if Kris is completely honest with himself, because if Adam is texting him sappy things, then Adam is undoubtedly thinking sappier things. And, though Kris feels guilty for even thinking about it still, probably not doing anything remotely sappy-like with any floppy-haired people.
Then Thanksgiving break happens, and Adam gets an extra-long weekend, and he shows up unexpectedly, a day early, leaning against his car nonchalantly in the high school parking lot.
“You asshole,” says Kris, and pounces on him.
“I missed you too - mmph,” Adam says, interrupted by a kiss. “Hello,” he mumbles against Kris’s mouth, and Kris makes a somewhat greeting-type noise in response.
They break apart to the sound of cat calls, and Kris turns in time to see Cale leaning out of his dad’s car window, whistling at them and grinning.
“Who is that jackass yelling at us?” Adam teases. “This town, seriously.”
“I’m telling him you said that,” Kris says.
“That is so not intimidating,” Adam says, glancing over the top of his sunglasses at a group of freshmen guys walking by. They scowl and glare, and Adam happily slides his hands into Kris’s back pockets, swinging him from side to side gently. “Oh, freaking out the football players, definitely missed that. Yup.”
“I still have to attend this school you know,” Kris says bemusedly. “And if I get called ‘fag’ in the locker room tomorrow I’m blaming you.”
“If you get called a fag then I hope you take down their personal information so I can heinously murder them,” Adam says lightly, the barest hint of a threat in his tone.
“That would certainly mess with your scholarship,” Kris comments, leaning in and looping his arms around Adam’s neck, ignoring the glances from the students mingling around them. “What are you even doing here? Not that I mind.”
“Picking up my boyfriend from school, duh,” replies Adam. “Like I’m gonna let you walk all the way home. Please.”
“Well damn, where the hell have you been every single day since the beginning of the year?” Kris asks.
“Of course, you throw that back in my face,” Adam says, pulling away and opening the passenger door with a flourish. “You are so picky.”
“Not true,” Kris replies, picking up his bag from where he’d dropped it in his haste for Adam-kisses. “If I were picky I probably wouldn’t even be with you, so count your blessings, stud.”
Adam gasps, slapping Kris’s ass as he climbs in the car. “Little shit,” he says fondly. Kris sends him a grin.
They go back to Kris’s house and endure Kimberly Allen’s motherly fit of joy upon seeing Adam again, smothering him in a hug that would make any lesser man cringe in horror. One benefit to Adam being incredibly charming - Kris’s parents love him, sometimes more than they love Kris. The downside to this, however, is that Kris often finds himself in the position of fighting with his mother for his boyfriend’s attention.
She insists on making them a snack, which turns into a full-fledged meal, complete with appetizers. Adam sits on a stool behind the kitchen counter and eats mozzarella sticks, one leg pressed up against Kris’s casually, chatting with Kris’s mom animatedly as she cooks.
“You know you’re welcome for Thanksgiving, Adam,” Kim says, draining a pot of pasta into a coriander in the sink, steam rushing up and fogging the window. “If Leila’s not doing anything that is. In fact, if she isn’t, y’all should come over, we’ll do a dual-family thing. Sharing the bounty - very in the spirit of things, don’t you think?”
“Kind of like the first Thanksgiving meal,” Kris comments. “Only instead of pilgrims and Indians, it’s Christians and Jews.”
Adam snorts with laughter. “Heartwarming,” he says. Kim rolls her eyes, making a face at Kris, who smiles innocently. “I’ll ask her,” Adam continues. “I haven’t talked to her since yesterday, but I doubt we’re doing anything too official. Usually we just go out on Thanksgiving.”
“Go out?” Kim says, aghast. “No home-cooked meal? Now that’s a tragedy.”
“No, the tragedy would be my mother’s home-cooking,” Adam replies. “Trust me, we leave it in the hands of professionals.”
“Well, you have to come over then. My sister’s helping me cook this year and we’ll have more food then we’ll know what to do with,” Kim says. “You know what - I’ll call her myself. I haven’t talked to her in awhile, anyway - Kristopher, would you mind finishing this?” Kim waves at the pasta, and the separate pan of sauce, bubbling lazily on another burner. “Just keep stirring this until the timer goes off.”
“Sure, Mama.” Kris rises obediently, taking the spoon from his mother’s hand and ducking out of the way as she goes to ruffle his hair.
“Be right back,” she says, and wanders off towards the living room.
Adam scoots up behind him as soon as she’s gone, pressing a kiss to Kris’s ear. “Guess we’re doing Thanksgiving together,” he says.
“I guess,” Kris says, faking annoyance. “I was so hoping to get rid of you, too.”
“You will never be rid of me,” Adam says, twisting his voice into the lower register and sounding like a dorky, overdramatic vampire.
“Do you need a cough drop?” Kris says, barking with laughter as Adam wiggles his fingers up his sides. “Quit it, unfair, unfair!”
Adam obeys, instead slipping his hands beneath Kris’s shirt, scratching lightly at his waist with his fingernails. “I’ve been thinking about doing this all day,” he says, flattening one palm on Kris’s stomach.
Kris turns around in response and latches his arms around Adam’s neck, reaching up for a silent kiss. Adam hums approvingly, biting at Kris’s lower lip in greeting.
“Whatever you two are doing in there,” Kim calls from the other room jovially, causing Kris to jerk in surprise, pulling away abruptly, “I don’t care, but don’t you dare burn my pasta sauce.”
“We won’t,” Adam calls back, laughing delightedly at Kris’s embarrassed expression. “I love your mom,” he says.
“You can have her,” Kris mutters, rolling his eyes.
--
Adam insists on driving Kris to school the next morning, like he used to do before he graduated. It’s a little nostalgic, and also wonderful, curling up in the passenger seat and listening to the morning countdown on the radio, Adam blinking sleepily, a cup of coffee steaming in the cup holder. They used to do this all the time, just drive to school together every day, and it had always made Kris feel stupidly happy. Something about how simple and nice it was.
He drops Kris off with a lazy kiss, trying to nudge him out of the car as the bell rings shrilly, laughing as Kris stubbornly stays put.
“You’re late,” he says wistfully, trailing his fingertips down the side of Kris’s face.
“Somehow, I think they’ll survive without me,” Kris replies, and ends up skipping first period. (They used to do that all the time, too.)
He’s twitchy and anxious all day, the combined effects of day-before-break jitters and the thought of Adam waiting for him at the end of the day working him up until he can hardly sit still. Megan spends all of Spanish poking him every time he looks at the clock, and he ends up with a bruise in the shape of her pencil on his right shoulder.
She follows him out when classes finally let out, running past him and beating him to Adam’s car with a triumphant grin.
“Adam!” she says joyfully, wrapping him up in a huge hug. “You didn’t stick around to say hello to me yesterday. How rude.”
“Super Megan,” Adam greets, grinning widely. “I was distracted. It’s Kris’s fault. Be mad at him.”
“That’s a lie,” Kris protests, and Megan shoots him a playful scowl. “Get off my boyfriend, please.”
Megan huffs and pulls back. “Pushy,” she scolds, then grabs Adam’s arm and winds it around her shoulders. “Sooo, what are we doing tonight?”
Kris stares at her, a little gobsmacked, but Adam just laughs.
“Whatever we want,” he says grandly. “We’re young, we’re beautiful, we have a car with a uh…mostly full tank of gas. The possibilities are endless.”
The possibilities are not, actually, endless, despite Adam’s enthusiasm however, and they end up at Megan’s house, hanging out in her basement while her dad grills steaks for dinner upstairs. Kris latches onto the graphite acoustic immediately, his favorite of the array of guitars from Megan’s mom’s collection, tooling around with it as Adam leans lazily against his leg.
“Is this what you two do, now that I’m gone?” Adam says mournfully. “What happened to the wild adventure, the all-night parties, the crazy shenanigans?”
“When did we ever have shenanigans?” Kris asks. “Even before you went to school, we never had shenanigans. This has always been pretty much it.”
“There were one or two shenanigans,” Megan protests. “Maybe like, mini-shenanigans. Like the time we convinced Daniel that Mrs. Smalley was in love with him.”
Adam lets out a loud bark of laughter, nudging Kris’s knee sharply. “Oh my God, I forgot about that. He couldn’t decide whether to be psyched or freaked out.”
“Or when we went to that Killers concert,” Megan continues, grinning, “and that slutty chick with the neon green sunglasses kept hitting on Kris, and you were all pissed but it was before you guys were together so you couldn’t do anything about it.” Megan cackles. “That was hilarious.”
Kris groans. “Yeah, Megan, real hilarious.” Adam makes a face at her sourly, cracking into a grin when she crosses her eyes at him in response.
“Whatever, we totally have shenanigans,” Megan says. “We have lots of shenanigans, Lambert, you don’t even know.” She sticks her chin out stubbornly. “Just last week we went to Godfather’s with Cale, and ran out and stuck him with the bill while he was in the bathroom. So there.”
“Impressive,” Adam says, mirth overflowing in his voice. “How long did it take you to pay him back, Kris?”
Kris ducks his head, blushing. “I didn’t pay him back,” he says unconvincingly.
Megan cackles. “You folded like a wet napkin! Don’t think I didn’t see you slipping him a ten at lunch the other day.”
“Shut up,” Kris says, and Adam laughs, scratching at Kris’s leg affectionately. “Okay, we’ve established that I’m lame. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Why don’t you play something instead of just messing around?” Adam suggests. “I haven’t heard you play anything in forever.”
“Yeah, dude, do the song you did at the open mic,” Megan says. “I was thinking about that the other day - what if we made it into a duet?”
“What song?” Adam asks, surprised. “You played at the open mic?”
Kris stops playing abruptly, but Megan steps in before he can say anything. “Yeah, it doesn’t have a name yet, but it’s awesome. It went really well, too. The manager even asked him to come back next month.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Adam asks quietly, swiveling his head to look up at Kris.
“I just - forgot, I guess,” Kris says lamely, picking at the strings idly. Adam frowns, tightening his grip on Kris’s ankle briefly before letting go completely. “Megan was the one who got the standing ovation, anyway,” he says, louder, ignoring Adam’s scrutiny.
Megan rolls her eyes, smiling bashfully. “There were only like, five people there.”
“That’s still wonderful, Meg,” Adam says, a bit more reserved than before. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short, you have a great voice.” He pauses. “Both of you do.”
Megan’s dad, calling down to them from upstairs, quells any response. “Dinner’s ready, guys.”
“Thanks Dad,” Megan calls, climbing to her feet. “You can play it later, yeah? I really think it’d work with both of us singing on it - you said you were thinking of bringing it up a bit higher anyway, right?”
“Right,” Kris replies, standing and carefully setting the guitar back on its stand. “Yeah, I guess we can mess around with it later.”
“Awesome.” She grins and dashes up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Kris goes to follow, but is stopped by Adam’s hand on his arm.
“I forgot about the open mic,” he says. “You told me you were gonna perform, didn’t you? Shit.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Kris says hastily, but Adam shakes his head.
“It kind of is,” he replies. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ve been distracted, and stuff, with the show, and everything,” Kris says. “I wasn’t mad or anything.”
Adam studies him for a few moments before smiling, sliding down Kris’s forearm to take his hand. “I’m still sorry,” he says.
“Well, I forgive you,” Kris says, and heads for the stairs, pulling Adam along and swinging their hands back and forth. “C’mon, I’m starving.”
“You’ll have to tell me all about it,” Adam says, dutifully following Kris up the stairs. “Every detail. And sing at the next one, too. I’ll come down to watch you.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Kris says, halting mid-step and looking over his shoulder.
“I want to,” Adam corrects, smiling softly and nudging him. “Duh.”
Kris smiles back, a little tremulously, a burst of pleasure tingling down his spine. “Okay,” he mumbles, turning back and resuming his journey up the stairs.
Adam squeezes his hand tightly, rubbing his thumb over Kris’s wrist, and follows, half a step behind.
--
Leila accepts Kris’s mom’s invitation for Thanksgiving dinner gratefully, and offers to bring a pie. Upon stern advice from Adam, Kim assures her that they’ll have more than enough.
Adam and Kris spend most of the day out and about, avoiding both of their houses - Kris’s beleaguered mother, sure to enlist both of them with some task or another in the preparation of her Thanksgiving feast (she’s a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to holidays; Kris has learned this the hard way) and at Adam’s, a sour, fresh-from-a-breakup Neil. So they go shopping, sort of, if browsing at Barnes and Noble for an hour and a half and then watching as Adam wistfully peers in the windows of clothing stores he can’t afford counts as shopping.
By the time they return, the house is filled with pleasant Thanksgiving smells. Leila and Neil arrive not long after, pulling up in Leila’s cranky old station wagon. They merge seamlessly into the fabric of Kris’s family, Neil retreating to the living room to watch the parade on the DVR with Daniel and Kris’s dad, Leila hopping up on a dining room chair to chat with Kim over appetizers.
Kris pulls Adam away discreetly as soon as Kim’s back is turned, and they sneak up to Kris’s room before anyone notices. As soon as the door is shut Adam is all over him, pushing him further into the room and onto his bed, pressing kisses into any spare inch of skin he can reach.
“Mmph - Adam,” Kris says breathlessly, “we are not doing this with both our families downstairs - oh - “
“It doesn’t turn you on?” Adam rumbles, tugging at the waistband of Kris’s jeans with a smirk. “That anyone could walk in on us at any time?”
Kris looks up at him in faint horror. “Um. No?”
Adam laughs. “Guess that’s not a kink then. Okay.”
Kris huffs, scooting backward on the bed, readjusting so he’s not hanging off the edge precariously. “The idea of my mother walking in on us does not strike me as particularly sexy, no.”
“Well why’d you bring me up here then?” Adam grouses, slapping Kris’s thigh playfully. “Mixed signals much?”
“I thought you’d like a break before dinner,” Kris says, shrugging. “With all the happy family stuff, and everything.”
Adam’s gaze softens, and he gives Kris a look dangerously close to adoring. “That is the sweetest thing ever.”
Kris grins bashfully, shrugging. Adam’s parents have been divorced for awhile now, but Adam still gets itchy and weird about it sometimes. It’s really for Kris’s benefit that he prevents it, honestly. “Well, I try.”
“And succeed.” Adam grins unabashedly. “And you know what else would be sweet?”
Kris narrows his eyes at him. “What?”
“If we had some of your mom’s deviled eggs,” Adam says, wide-eyed and innocent. “They would definitely, totally make me feel better.”
“You want me to go steal you eggs,” Kris says flatly. “I’m gonna get caught and then we’ll be forced to go down and watch the parade and you’ll have to make small talk with my dad about the Snoopy balloon.”
Adam pouts slightly. “At least your dad is here,” he says, and Kris rolls his eyes. “Also, remember that time you kissed the drunk guy? Yeah, I still feel really bad about that, too.”
“You are shameless,” Kris says with a groan, but rises to his feet anyway. Adam just grins at him.
He sneaks down to the kitchen, cutting through the breakfast room instead of the foyer so he doesn’t get caught. There’s a close call with Leila but Kris emerges unscathed with a platter of deviled eggs, scrambling back upstairs before anyone notices.
“Okay, that was totally ninja,” he says, kicking the door closed with his foot. “And I figure we have maybe twenty minutes before they remember we exist, so…”
Adam turns around from where he’s standing by Kris’s desk, frowning deeply, and Kris stops talking abruptly. In his hands is a very familiar three-ring binder, and Kris’s stomach sinks.
“Were you going through my stuff?” Kris blurts.
Adam raises one dangerous looking eyebrow. “It was lying open on the floor,” he says dryly. He holds it up. “So, I’m probably cheating on you?”
Kris sets the plate of food down on the night stand carefully, noticing distantly that his hands are trembling. “No,” he says slowly, “I - it’s a joke.”
“A joke,” Adam repeats flatly, swinging the binder around and flipping a page sharply. “‘Enough funky suspicious behavior to make me go uh-oh means uh-oh for you and Adam,’” he reads, and Kris winces. “‘Don’t confront him or anything, since it’s all circumstantial, but keep your guard up and be on the lookout for any more obvious warning signs?’”
“Adam, it’s - not what you think,” Kris says feebly.
“So you and Megan weren’t trying to figure out if I was fucking around on you?” Adam says, snapping the binder shut with a harsh movement of his hands. His voice is angry and sharp, echoing in the small bedroom.
“Okay,” Kris says weakly, “maybe it is what you think.” Adam flings the binder onto the bed angrily, and Kris takes an involuntary step back. “No, no, look - I never thought you were cheating on me, never, okay, Megan’s just - pushy, I mean you know what she’s like - “
“She doesn’t do shit like this for no reason, Kris!” Adam argues. “What, like she just decided that I might be cheating on you one day, with no explanation?”
“She was blowing it out of proportion!” Kris replies. “There - look, can I just explain?”
Adam glares at him. “Yeah, kind of waiting for you to do so.”
“Adam, please.”
Adam blinks, blowing out a tense breath and uncrossing his arms. When he speaks again, he sounds calmer. “Okay, explain.”
“At the party,” Kris says, clenching his fists at his sides and trying to ignore the nervous knots in his stomach, “I saw you - with a guy.”
“What?” Adam says sharply.
“Not - not with a guy, just talking to a guy, I mean,” Kris says quickly. “It was this dude with blond hair and these like, streaks in it, and half of it was shaved all weird - “
“Tommy,” Adam interrupts, and Kris flinches violently.
“R - right,” he stammers. “Um. And I guess it just bothered me a little - not because you were doing anything wrong, you weren’t - it just made me think about all the new people you were probably meeting and hanging out with, and I got worried that maybe you - “
“Would cheat,” Adam says flatly.
“No,” Kris counters. “Well, yeah I guess, maybe - but not like - I mean you would never mess around on me. Ever. I know that, Adam.” Adam’s shoulders fall slightly, a bit of the tension dissipating. “But I thought - maybe, if you met someone else, and started to have feelings for them - like you couldn’t help that, if that happened.”
Adam is silent for a few moments, staring intently at the carpet. “So you told Megan,” he finally says, “and she made you…this,” he says, gesturing at the quiz. “And you took it?”
“Cale made me,” Kris says weakly.
“Oh great,” Adam says, throwing up his hands. “So basically all your friends think I’m a scumbag.”
“No! Just Cale and Megan.” Kris winces. “I mean, not that they think you’re a scumbag. They don’t! Just, they’re the only ones I talked to about it. And I didn’t even mean to with Cale, he just found it one day, and…” Kris trails off with a sigh. “I need to stop leaving my crap all over the place, obviously.”
Adam shakes his head, tensing up again. “But they - you think I would cheat on you? Like, you think I’m capable of that?” he says, and he sounds more hurt than angry, and something splits open in Kris’s chest.
“Emotionally! Emotionally cheat,” he says frantically. “It’s not - you wouldn’t just like, hook up with someone else, I know that, that’s not what I - “
“Kris, that’s even worse!” Adam exclaims. “What have I possibly done to make you think that I’m not committed to you? Like honestly.”
“Nothing,” Kris insists. “Nothing, okay, this is my problem, my stupid emotional crap, all right?”
“Why didn’t you talk to me about it?” Adam demands. “All this time, you’ve been worried that I was like, falling in love with someone else, or whatever, and you just didn’t say anything?”
“I didn’t - “ Kris stops, blocked by the lump in his throat. “I didn’t want to…I don’t know. I didn’t want you to think I - “
“So you kept quiet about it,” Adam interrupts. “And just worried about it, and talked about it to anyone who wasn’t me, and that makes sense how, exactly?”
“I don’t know,” Kris spits in frustration, crossing his arms across his chest defensively. “And why didn’t you tell me about Tommy, anyway?”
“I don’t tell you a lot of things!” Adam exclaims. “I didn’t tell you that I ran out of toothpaste last week, or about the girl in my lit class who shared her Twizzlers with me, or how the garbage truck comes at five am every Saturday and wakes me up, I mean - Jesus, do you want a minute by minute replay of every day?”
“Don’t be an asshole, okay,” Kris says angrily. “I’m trying to be honest with you and you just - “
“No, you’re telling me the truth finally because I cornered you,” Adam corrects harshly. “Because apparently it’s too much to ask for you to be honest willingly, I have to force you into it.”
A loud knock on the door interrupts Kris’s fierce response, and Kris’s mom pokes her head in. “Guys,” she says sharply, “you are aware that this room is not soundproof?”
Adam turns away with a sharp intake of breath, rubbing his hands over his eyes, and Kris turns around angrily. “Thanks for the tip, Mom,” he snaps.
Kim levels him with a look. “You two can figure this out later,” she says sternly. “This is Thanksgiving, and I don’t care what you’re fighting about, it can wait until after dinner.”
“Mom, can you just - “
“You’re right,” Adam interrupts, turning around and ignoring Kris’s glare. “I’m really sorry, Mrs. Allen, this is incredibly rude of us. Kris and I can talk later.”
“Thank you, Adam,” Kim says, swinging the door open wider. “Why don’t you two come down and pretend like you’re happy to spend time with your families?”
Adam shoots past her into the hallway before Kris can react, not looking back, and Kris follows reluctantly, wilting beneath the power of his mother’s stern glare.
What follows is easily the most stilted, awkward evening of Kris’s life, as Adam proceeds to avoid him completely, taking refuge in the living room with Neil, Daniel and Kris’s dad. Kris’s attempts to catch his attention go ignored, and he eventually resigns himself to helping his mother in the kitchen, making small talk with her and Leila and ignoring the elephant that’s pressing hard on his chest.
Adam is animated and energetic at dinner, talking animatedly with Daniel, of all people. Kris sits across from him and watches as he smiles and jokes with everyone at the table except for him. From the glances shot his way from his parents, that he and Adam are in a fight is obviously evident to everyone, and Kris kind of wants to melt into the carpet.
Kris is helping clear the table when Adam finally approaches him, leaning in as he grabs a stack of dirty plates. “We need to talk,” he says.
“Obviously,” Kris snaps, turning on his heel and striding into the kitchen.
Adam follows close behind. “Don’t snap at me, okay,” he says irritatedly, setting the plates on the counter carefully.
Kris glares at him. “Come on,” he says, grabbing Adam’s arm and pulling him away. Ignoring Daniel, walking past them with his own pile of dirty dishes, he pulls Adam through the patio doors onto the deck, sliding them shut behind him. “So, let’s talk,” he says, and lets go abruptly, sinking down into a chair and crossing his arms.
“This isn’t going to work if you’re just gonna be all pissy,” Adam says, moving to lean against the railing, crossing one boot over the other lazily.
“Don’t do that, don’t be all condescending like that,” Kris says fiercely. “I hate it when you do that.”
“Fine,” Adam replies. “Then you stop sulking like a five-year-old.”
“Oh screw you,” Kris snaps, anger flushing through him hotly. “Like you’re acting so mature, giving me the silent treatment at dinner.”
“Whatever,” Adam says sharply. “Can we not? Can we please just talk this out like normal people?”
“Fine, let’s talk,” Kris says, tight with frustration. “That’s why I brought you out here, isn’t it?”
“Fine,” Adam says shortly. “Let’s talk about how I’m an evil bastard who’s going to break your heart, then.”
“Oh, please,” Kris mutters. “Yes, let’s be overdramatic, that’s going to help.”
“Fuck you, overdramatic,” Adam says angrily, “I have a right to be pissed off about this, do not try and tell me I’m overreacting.”
“I’m not saying that,” Kris says evenly. “I was trying to explain to you how I felt, and instead of listening to me you got angry, and you wonder why I didn’t tell you?” He scoffs. “Cuz this is going so well.”
“I wouldn’t have reacted like this if you hadn’t hidden it from me,” Adam says shortly. “Fuck, Kris, this isn’t some stupid thing, okay - the minute we start lying about shit like this is when this all starts to fall apart.”
“Well it’s not exactly easy for me you know,” Kris says angrily, “you live in LA now and you go out every weekend and you’re doing all these amazing, cool things, and you’re much happier than you ever were, living here - don’t argue with me.” Kris points at Adam threateningly. “And I knew this was gonna happen, okay, I knew it. You’d go off and find this fabulous life, that you deserve, and I’d just be here, sitting, waiting, doing the same damn things I’ve always done.”
Adam’s eyes bug out slightly. “Kris, oh my God - “
“Shut up, okay,” Kris says shakily. “I don’t need you to reassure me. I don’t. I don’t want you to tell me I’m being stupid or insecure or whatever either, because you know I’m right.” He looks away then, unable to keep meeting Adam’s wounded gaze. “And I’m sorry, okay, I am. I should’ve told you, like, talked to you about it, but I just - couldn’t. Because you’re always busy, and when we do see each other it’s never for very long, and I don’t want to make you feel guilty or whatever, that’s stupid.”
“I would’ve made time,” Adam says, stricken.
“I - “ Kris shakes his head. “Adam, it’s just - things were okay, they were. It’s just - me being stupid, and worrying, okay, and things with us have been amazing, I didn’t want to screw it up.”
Adam shakes his head. “Kris, don’t you get it? You worrying is not stupid. You worrying is a problem. I am your boyfriend, okay, this is a 50/50 relationship - or it should be. When you feel something like this, you have to fucking tell me. I can’t read your mind.”
“I didn’t want you to - “ Kris blurts desperately, cutting himself off abruptly and crossing his arms.
“Didn’t want me to what?” Adam says, and crosses over to sit in a chair across from Kris. “Get angry? Dump you?”
“Maybe,” Kris mumbles.
“Oh my God,” Adam mutters in exasperation. “Look, Kris. You live two hours away from me, my phone bill is ridiculous, I blow half my paycheck every month on gas, and I still only get to see you once every couple of weeks, maybe. Nothing about this relationship is convenient right now, but I don’t care.” He grabs Kris’s hands, holding them between his, pressing little circles of white into Kris’s wrists with his fingers. “I am not dating you because it’s easy, or I don’t have any better options, or whatever you’re thinking, I’m dating you because I love you, and I want to date you. The end.”
Kris flushes, ducking his chin into his chest. “I know.”
“Really?” Adam questions. “Because if you really knew how I felt about you - like really believed it - then I don’t think we’d even be having this conversation.”
“I just don’t understand - “
“What, honey?” Adam prods him.
“Like - why you’re with me, sometimes,” Kris says, blushing hotly. “And I don’t need you to give me the list of why you think I’m awesome, okay, really. That’s just - how I feel, okay.” He takes a shaky breath, palms sweaty in the circle of Adam’s hands. “It’s like, there are so many more exciting people you could be dating, and I know - “ he breaks off, frustrated. “I know what you’re gonna say. It’s not like I think I’m this totally boring person who doesn’t deserve you or anything, like I know all the reasons why we work, okay, it just - doesn’t completely feel like that, sometimes.”
Adam grimaces, digesting that for a moment. “I - what do you want me to do?”
“Nothing,” Kris says firmly. “Nothing, I don’t need you to do anything. It’s just - how I feel. It’s not because of anything you did.” Adam’s grip on Kris’s wrists tightens until he can practically feel the bones grinding, but he stays silent, waiting for Adam to respond.
“I love you,” Adam finally says, haltingly. “So much. I don’t know…what else I can say.”
“I love you too,” Kris says quietly.
Adam sighs. “Look. I want to make this work, more than anything. Do you?” Kris nods hastily. “Okay, then, let’s make this work. I will do anything that I need to do to make you…not feel that way. And to make you never, ever have to worry that I would ever, ever cheat on you.” Adam’s eyes tighten, a tinge of hurt creeping back into his expression. “Because I wouldn’t. For the record.”
“I don’t know what you need to do though,” Kris says, frustrated. “It’s - jeez, Adam - “
“Well what made you think I wouldn’t have fucking time to talk to you about this, then?” Adam says. “Like - I know I’m busy, okay, and there are times that I can’t pick up the phone or drive down to see you or whatever, but - I mean, I will make time for you. And if I’m talking too much or not paying attention to you or whatever - then tell me, and I will change it!” He shakes Kris’s wrists, hard. “And yeah, that’s what you need to do, okay. You need to communicate with me, Kris, that is so fucking important.”
Kris nods. “I’ll try.”
“No, don’t try, do. Seriously.” Adam frowns. “When you’re mad at me, then get mad at me. When something bugs you, then let me know, okay. Even if it’s like, the smallest thing ever, okay. Keeping quiet about it doesn’t mean it goes away, it just builds up in your chest until you explode.”
“Okay,” Kris responds, “then, you snore.”
Adam blinks, then laughs, a short, surprised burst. “Not exactly what I meant, but a good start.”
“And I found the note from Tommy,” Kris continues, before he can lose his nerve, “in the book in your dorm.” He shrugs sheepishly. “That’s why I was weird, that night, about going to the party.”
Adam stares at him blankly. “What book?” he asks.
Kris groans. “Oh, you’re kidding me.”
“No seriously, what book?” Adam pushes. “I mean…Tommy gave me this whole stack, I don’t know…”
“Still Life with Woodpecker?” Kris says. “He wrote an inscription inside the front cover.”
“He did?” Adam says. “Oh, okay. I hadn’t even looked at that one yet.” He smiles sheepishly. “What did it say?”
“I dunno exactly,” Kris mumbles, shame faced. “It was just a little…overly familiar? I guess?”
Adam sighs. “Yeah,” he says. “Kris - Tommy’s like that with everyone, though. I mean - he’s just a friend. Seriously. I haven’t explained this yet, and I should’ve.” He shakes his head. “I wasn’t like, keeping him from you exactly. He was on the crew for Fiorello, that’s how I met him, and we were working late one night - not alone! - and we got to talking about books, and he said he had this whole box he was trying to get rid of, and that he’d pick out some for me that he thought I’d like.” Adam shrugs. “He’s just - one of those people, you know, like really nice and flirty and kind of - in your business, a little? But not in a bad way, you know, like in this genuine, sweet way.”
Kris nods. “Why didn’t you ever mention him to me?” he asks quietly. “I mean - I don’t want a…minute by minute replay,” he says, and Adam winces slightly. “It’s just - you usually talk a lot about your friends, and I hadn’t ever heard his name before when I found the book, and…”
Adam nods thoughtfully. “I can see why you…I mean, how that looked weird,” he concedes. “I honestly just - didn’t think about it. It never came up. He was at that party, though, and I would’ve introduced you then, if that makes any difference.” Adam shrugs. “I don’t know, Kris. I’m really sorry.”
Kris shakes his head. “It’s okay.” He takes a deep breath. “I should’ve just asked you about it.”
“Yes!” Adam says triumphantly. “Because it’s nothing! Really. Kris. Tommy - he’s straight. Allegedly, anyway, but whatever - and even if he weren’t, it wouldn’t matter because I’m with you.” He quirks a small smile. “And I am with you, you know. One hundred percent. Like - I don’t even really look at other guys anymore.”
“Well,” Kris says, grinning hesitantly, “I know that’s not true.”
“Shut up,” Adam says. “Okay, maybe I do look. Occasionally. But very briefly, and it’s usually contained to people on basic cable.”
“It’s okay if you look,” Kris says. “And it’s okay if you…flirt, or have like, crushes or whatever. Like, that’s normal, right?” He shrugs. “I don’t care.”
“If I did ever get a crush on someone - like someone that I knew,” Adam says, “I would tell you. And I’d hope you’d tell me.” Kris nods quickly. “Yeah, see, honesty, baby. Key word.”
“I understand. I get it.” Kris shakes his head. “I’m - sorry. Really sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Adam says. “This is good.” He cradles Kris’s face in his hands gently, sliding his thumbs down Kris’s cheekbones. “It’s good that this happened, that we had this conversation.”
“I’m still sorry about the quiz,” Kris says, shivering as his jaw brushes the heels of Adam’s hands. “And overreacting and - I’m kind of an idiot, basically.”
“You are so far from being an idiot that it’s ridiculous,” Adam replies. “I love that you - that you spend all this time thinking about other people, okay, because that’s really where this comes from. You putting me above yourself.” He shakes his head, expression somewhere between tender and exasperated. “You do that all the time, especially with your family. And with me. And I love you, and I love your heart, so much. So much. I love that you do that with me, but it just - you shouldn’t. Because your feelings are just as important as mine are.”
Kris nods, unsure if he can trust himself to speak.
“Okay, so this is good,” Adam murmurs, almost to himself. “It’s a good thing. Trust me. Things are gonna be different now, we’re gonna make them different. We just have to try our best, right?”
“Right,” Kris replies, voice hoarse. “Kiss me first.”
“Love to,” Adam replies, and leans in. Kris meets him halfway.
Kris feels slightly dizzy, almost drunk, head spinning as Adam slides his hands down his shoulders, pulling away after a too-short moment to rest his forehead against Kris’s.
“We can do this,” Kris mumbles, reaching out and grabbing onto Adam’s thighs, just to have something to hang onto.
“Yeah, we can,” Adam agrees. “Although it should be noted that your hands really need to be a few inches lower, considering half your family is spying on us from your bedroom window.”
Kris jerks his hands away like they’re on fire, not even bothering to turn around. He knows Adam’s right. “Oh, God.”
“I love your mom,” Adam says fondly. “Have I said that yet?”
“A few times.” Kris laughs despite himself, stretching slightly, cramped from being hunched over too long. He feels almost weightless, a heaviness he hadn’t known existed now gone from his shoulders. “They were probably taking bets on how long it would take us to make up, anyway.”
“And we are made up, right?” Adam asks, threading his fingers through Kris’s.
“We’re good,” Kris assures him, feeling the sentiment settle between them, heavy and right.
“We’re good together,” Adam corrects.
Kris squeezes his hand. He can’t disagree.
End.