“How did the date go?” Chris asks. “With Matt.”
“Are you telling me I broke his car for nothing? Did you even get a blow job?”
Adam chokes out a laugh at that because he knew Chris had something to do with Matt showing up at the garage, even if he hadn’t thought it was quite that. “Do you really want to know?”
“I’d ask if it were a girl,” Chris says with an awkward shrug before he takes a swig from his beer.
“No,” Adam says patiently. “No blow job.”
“No. Nothing. He’s not what I—there wasn’t anything there but the fact he was hot.” Adam sinks back into his couch with a sigh. He looks over at Chris. “You and Rachel?” Chris doesn’t look at him, staring at the bottle in his hands. Reaching over, Adam pokes him in the arm. “Chris?”
“Yeah we didn’t really—I like her, but it’s not—” Chris breaks off and shrugs, sitting forward and tearing at the beer bottle label. He’s quiet, shoulders hunched, and Adam doesn’t quite know what to do to break the mood. Before he can say anything, Chris makes a noise in the back of his throat. “Do you think about it?”
“When I kissed you.”
Adam’s eyes widen and he instinctively shifts away from Chris on the couch, putting his beer on the floor. “I—don’t know what you want me to say—”
“Because I do,” Chris interrupts. “Think about it. Think about you.”
“No,” Adam says, ignoring the heat rushing to his cheeks. “No, you don’t.”
“I think I know what I think about,” Chris says, still not looking at Adam. “And it’s not—I don’t think of it in a bad way.”
“Chris, it wasn’t even a kiss,” Adam protests. “You smashed your mouth against mine for less than a second.”
Finally, Chris looks at Adam, a look of confusion on his face. “Dude, seriously?”
“What? You’ve kissed enough people to know that wasn’t a proper kiss.”
“Are you trying to get me to kiss you again?” Chris asks, his jaw set. “Because I will.”
“No, that’s not—” Adam takes a breath and holds his hands up. “I’m just saying, if you’re thinking about the kiss, then it’s because you know it wasn’t really a kiss.”
Chris goes quiet, beer bottle dangling from one hand as his other hand rubs his thigh. “That’s not it,” he says. “I know that’s not it.”
Tilting his head back, Adam looks up at the ceiling, wrinkling his nose when he spots a stain up there. “You’re not gay, Chris.”
“Did I say I was?”
“Then what do you want?” Adam asks, closing his eyes. “You’re the one who kissed me.”
“Do you think I don’t know that? You’re my best friend and you won’t even fucking look at me because I kissed you.”
Adam straightens up and makes a point of staring at Chris. “Now I’m looking at you,” Adam says.
“I—” Chris breaks off and shakes his head. “Kiss me.”
“Kiss me.” Chris shuffles closer to Adam and nods. “You said it wasn’t a proper kiss, I want to do it right.”
“Did you get high before you came over?” Adam asks with a nervous laugh. “Chris, come on, you don’t—”
“I really didn’t think I’d have to talk you into kissing me.”
This is absolutely fucking insane, but Adam’s known Chris his entire life and he can tell Chris is completely serious. It makes it worse, because Adam wants this; he’s spent too long since their non-kiss thinking about what it would be like if he’d actually kissed Chris that night after the bar, if he’d had time to kiss him back on the Fourth, but Adam can’t quite believe that he’s being offered a do-over. He can’t think of it as anything but a do-over, because if he takes it seriously, thinks about this being real, about Chris actually wanting him, he’s going to start laughing hysterically and never stop.
“You really want this?”
Chris nods, and it’s as close to nervous as Adam has seen him in years. “I want to try.”
“Just—don’t stop talking to me again if this fails,” Adam says. “And please tell me you didn’t eat onions today.”
“Fuck you,” Chris says, but he’s smiling even as he says it. He leans in, and Adam would swear he can feel his breath stop. “Are we doing this?” Chris asks quietly.
Adam nods, closing his eyes and letting Chris be the one to close the gap because he’s still not sure he’s going to; he’s proven wrong in an instant, and all Adam can think is how goddamn soft Chris’ lips are. It should be weird, but it’s not, and when Chris’ hand cups the back of Adam’s neck, all Adam can do is go with it. Chris’ lips part, and Adam almost breaks away on instinct, but then Chris’ tongue is tentatively sliding against his, and Adam sinks into it, taking all he can from Chris in case this is all he’s ever going to get.
When Chris pulls away, Adam can’t help the slight sigh that leaves his mouth. “So... back to just being bros?” he asks, eyes flitting down to look at Chris’ lips, avoiding his eyes.
“Uh. No,” Chris says, hand tentatively settling on Adam’s leg as a smile crosses his mouth. “No, I don’t think so.”
Adam meets Chris’ eyes and frowns. “But you—”
“I swear to God if you say I’m not gay, I’m gonna rethink the handjob I’m thinking of giving you.”
“Uh—” Adam shakes his head, laughing as he covers Chris’ hand with his own. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” Chris says, looking surprised at the strength of his own voice. He looks down at their hands and shrugs. “Look, I don’t know what this is, but kissing you—I haven’t felt like that. Ever.”
“I want more, if you—”
“Yeah,” Adam says, squeezing Chris’ hand. “I do.”
After that, it’s almost easy to start kissing again, except this time it’s not tentative; it’s got an edge, with Chris’ mouth almost bruisingly hard against Adam’s as they kiss. Adam pushes a hand underneath Chris’ shirt and smiles into the kiss when Chris shivers, his teeth grazing against Adam’s lower lip. It doesn’t take long for Chris’ hand to slip down to cover Adam’s crotch, squeezing lightly in a way that makes Adam groan, breaking the kiss.
“You’re so easy,” Chris says with a grin, his fingers going for Adam’s fly button.
“Says the man who sleeps with anyone who shows him interest,” Adam says, scraping his blunt fingernails across Chris’ nipples, laughing when Chris sucks in a breath. Chris’ fingers work quickly, and before Adam realises what’s happening, Chris’ hand is wrapped around his cock. “Oh fuck.”
“You could return the favour,” Chris says as he swipes his thumb over the head of Adam’s cock.
The sweatpants Chris is wearing do little to hide how hard he is, and Adam doesn’t even bother pushing them down, just slips his hand underneath the waistband and runs his fingers down Chris’ cock.
“Take it out,” Chris says, spitting on his hand before grasping for Adam’s cock again, slowly working him. “Adam, come on.”
“So fucking demanding,” Adam says, kissing him as he does what Chris asks. “Spit,” he says when he pulls away, holding his hand out to Chris, laughing when Chris obeys. Adam jerks him slowly, watching Chris’ reactions, and trying not to lose himself completely to what Chris is doing to him. He wants this to be good for Chris, doesn’t want him to ever forget that it’s Adam doing this to him, that it’s his best goddamn friend making him feel this way.
“Christ you’re good at this,” Chris gasps, leaning in for a kiss that quickly turns sloppy, both of them far too preoccupied with wanting to get the other off.
The simple feel of Chris’ hand working him steadily is embarrassingly close to making Adam come, and it’s all he can do to hold on, wanting so bad to see Chris come first. Catching Chris’ mouth and deepening the kiss, Adam presses his thumb just below the head of Chris’ cock and smiles when Chris breaks away from the kiss, curses falling from his mouth as he comes all over Adam’s hand.
The grip Chris has on Adam’s cock loosens and Adam takes the opportunity to use Chris’ come to jerk himself smoothly, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before opening when he feels Chris’ hand cover his own. “What—”
“I told you,” Chris says, his breath slightly uneven. “I wanted to give you a handjob.”
Adam watches Chris watch him, Chris’ eyes firmly concentrated on the way both their hands are wrapped around Adam’s cock and moving together. Chris moves even closer, presses a kiss against the underside of Adam’s jaw, and it’s that which sends Adam over the edge. “Holy shit,” he breathes out when he’s able to talk again. “Chris—”
“Yeah,” Chris says, kissing Adam’s neck. “Next time, blow jobs.”
“Next time?” Adam asks, wiping his hand on his shirt, resigning himself to having to do laundry later.
Chris straightens up and smiles softly at Adam. “Next time, dude.”