Sudden Storms
Title: Sudden Storms
Kradam. NC-17. From the Metaphors and Dinosaurs universe.
Disclaimer: Don't know these people. Never happened.
For such a simple, down-home guy, Kris Allen sure was harder than hell to figure out sometimes.
He was like those Russian doll things, or the bear that went over the mountain: every time you thought you got down to the last painted wooden figure, or the final peak, there was another one before you, and another, till it seemed as though there was no end to the different layers that made up that curious, unassuming boy from the sticks of Arkansas.
For instance: despite the fact that Kris loved cock like a fat kid loved cake, he sure seemed to Adam sometimes to be about the ungayest person Adam had ever met in his life: his utter disregard for fashion, for one, and for two, his almost maniacal love of sports, especially football (ugh); but mostly it was the way he just was, the type of guy who would probably have never set Adam's gaydar off in the first place except for the fact that within the hour of Adam's first seeing him at the club in WeHo he'd sucked Adam's dick (or tried to, anyway) like a thousand-dollar-a-night hustler.
There was also the fact that, for such a hottie as he was, Kris seemed almost oblivious to his appearance, as though he just had no idea that from top to toe he was a gay man's wet dream, a twink to put all other twinks to utter shame; it was part of his ineffable charm, of course, but Adam was certain that if he'd been blessed with Kris's boyish good looks he would have worked that shit like a boss from Day One and taken over WeHo long ago as the reigning king of studliness.
Then there was the peculiar way that Kris seemed to live in his head most of the time: his need to lock himself in his study for hours at a pop, for instance, or the way he would sometimes stare into space as if lost in thought, his dark eyes taking on a dreamy distance as though he were seeing vistas within his mind that Adam was not, or could not be, privy to. Except on those occasions when Kris would perform for him, where all those different layers of feeling he kept buried inside would manifest themselves in his voice, in his expressions as he played his guitar, as though music were really the only language Kris was fluent in, and Adam had to admit there were times when he was jealous of the little shit's ability to paint a picture with music like something out of the fucking Sistine Chapel or something, Adam didn't fucking know.
Though perhaps not just music. For the truth was that, when they were in bed together, Kris's face would take on that same faraway dreaminess as Adam fucked him, as though the act of sex were a hallowed thing for Kris, even when they were doing the most raunchy things. And it was that almost more than the fantastic hotness of his bod that made sex with Kris Allen such a mind-blowing pleasure, because Adam couldn't recall ever having been with anybody who loved to fuck as much as Kris did, not even Brad, and that was saying quite a lot.
Yet you'd never know it just by looking at him, say, as he watched one of his stupid football games, or sat in bed of a Sunday morning as he peered through his glasses at his crossword puzzle, his little face furrowed in concentration as his little fuzzy hand brought the pencil to the newspaper to write down a few more letters, before reaching over to the bed stand for his cup of coffee and taking a sip from it as his eyes continued to focus on the crossword even as he mumbled to Adam in his Southern drawl "Maybe we should get a dog."
"A dog?" Adam asked blankly, looking up from his cup of tea.
"Sure," Kris shrugged, setting his coffee down and then smiling over at Adam through his glasses. "Be nice to have a dog, don't you think?"
"Um, excuse me, but I'm not exactly sure how we went from crossword puzzles to dogs," Adam remarked, setting his own cup down and studying Kris's smirking face.
"Oh. Well, there was a question on the puzzle about barns, and that got me to thinking about farms and stuff, and then all the kinds of animals on a farm, like cows and stuff, and then how most farms always have at least one dog," Kris finished, nodding his head to himself as though this train of thought should have been obvious even to a five-year-old.
"Oh, of course," Adam replied, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "How silly of me."
"Jerk," Kris said, flipping his pencil at Adam's shoulder with a grin. "But really, don't you think it'd be nice to have a dog?"
"Sure, so that it can jump on the bed all day and pee on the rug and get hairs everywhere," Adam replied, wrinkling his nose at the idea of all his nice clothes covered in dog fluff.
"Well but we can train it though," Kris reasoned, tossing his newspaper onto the floor and taking his glasses off to look at Adam with those soft puppy-brown eyes, and Adam knew he was going to lose this battle before it even begun because damn Kris Allen's stupid face.
"Shit. Well what kind of dog then," Adam sighed, leaning back on his pillow with weary resignation.
"How about a collie?" Kris smiled, scooting closer to Adam and drawing an arm around Adam's waist.
"Fuck no. Too much hair," Adam replied, shaking his head vehemently. "How about one of those little weenie dogs instead?" he added, thinking that those things had hardly any hair on them and were nice and tiny so that they couldn't even try to jump on the bed or anything.
"Nah," Kris vetoed, shaking his head likewise. "We need to get a big dog, you know? Nice big dog you can play fetch with and stuff. Those little dogs are okay, but the big ones--well, they're just real nice," Kris added thoughtfully.
"But I like the little ones," Adam replied to this, putting his arm around Kris's neck and planting a kiss on his soft floppy hair.
"You don't say," Kris said with a smirk as he leaned his head on Adam's shoulder.
"Shut up."
"Well," Kris said after a time, sort of staring across the room as his eyes took on that distance that told Adam he was in Kris-land again. "Maybe a medium-size dog then. With short hair. Like a beagle."
"Can't we just get a bird or something instead?" Adam asked. "Or a lizard or something? Or--hey, how about a snake," Adam added with a wicked smile. "That would be siiiick."
"Well maybe you can have a snake, and I can have my dog," Kris replied unperturbed.
"Great, so now we're going to have a fucking zoo then?"
"Why not? This place is big enough."
"And who's going to take care of all those things? I'm hardly home much as it is, and I can't see you coming out of your damn cave long enough to take a piss, much less pick up after a dog."
"Are we going to go over that again?"
"No, just saying. I know you, Kris Procrastinator Allen, which means I know if we get a damn dog or whatever the poor thing would just probably starve or something when I'm away."
"I wouldn't do that," Kris answered now, pulling away from Adam now and frowning like offended. "You think I'd neglect an animal like that?"
"Damn, chill out," Adam replied, rolling his eyes. "Why are you being so defensive? I was only joking."
"No you weren't."
"Yes I--Wait, what the fuck?" Adam said when Kris abruptly stood up from the bed and began to march out of the room. "What in the fuck's the matter?"
But Kris didn't answer, just flipped Adam the bird and stormed out the door as though Adam had called him a whore or something, so that Adam only sat there for a minute wondering what in the fuck he'd said that could have pissed Kris off so much.
"Mother of fuck," Adam muttered to himself after a moment, standing up from the bed and exiting the room likewise to go find that little shit, who naturally was locked in his cave and pissily playing his guitar, judging by the clumsy off-key notes that floated to Adam through the door.
Adam was about to knock on the door and shout something cold at Kris, but at the last minute he thought better of it, and turned away to go back upstairs and take a shower, then get dressed to go out and find something to eat because he would be fucked sideways if he was going to deal with this kind of fuckery on his fucking day off.
He didn't even bother to tell Kris he was leaving, just got into his car and drove through the big gate that protected his domain from the curious and the crazy, and motored off down the street without even noticing where he was going, just needed to get away so that he didn't kick Kris's study door open and slap his face off like the little bitch he was being.
However he didn't end up getting anything to eat after all, but rather drove to the top of the hills and parked the car to stare out the windshield at the vista below, a scrim of smog blanketing the valley so thickly that Adam's eyes could hardly see the buildings and the streets beneath it. But it was all right: for Adam knew that all it would take was a good rain to wash the haze away, and afterward the valley would be as clear and pristine as the promised land it promised to be for so many.
It was then that Adam started the car up again and drove home, where he carefully avoided Kris's study and made straight to the kitchen to try to find something to eat that he didn't have to cook. However, when he walked through the kitchen door he was surprised to find Kris sitting at the kitchen table staring out the window, dressed in an old t-shirt and jeans but bearing almost the exact same aspect he had on the morning that Katy had called him.
"I'm sorry," Kris said after time without turning his gaze from the window. "I acted like a jerk, I know. And I'm sorry."
"I just don't understand why you got so upset," Adam replied as he took a few steps toward Kris and then stood in front of him trying to read the expression on his face.
"I don't know," Kris replied, lowering his head and running his fingers through his hair. "It's just that you--I mean, maybe....I mean, I think you were right."
"Oh shit," Adam said, sitting down in the chair next to Kris and drawing the stupid boy into his arms. "Don't be such an idiot. I know you wouldn't neglect a dog or whatever, I mean--"
"No, that's not it," Kris replied, shaking his head. "I mean it is, but....Well, I mean that's sort of the story of my life, you know?" Kris added, glancing down at the floor. "I mean, I know it's why Katy left me--well, one of the reasons, anyway," Kris amended somewhat sheepishly. "And I know it's why I couldn't finish school, and why I'm pretty much nowhere now. But that's not your fault," Kris finished, reaching up to finger the hem of Adam's shirt. "So I'm sorry I got all weird on you."
"What, because you don't want to do anything except play music?" Adam asked, trying to look into Kris's woebegone face. "Don't you know how lucky you are, to have a passion in life? Most people don't have shit, Kris. All they have is their crappy job and their TV and their computer porn or whatever--no, I'm serious," Adam insisted when Kris snorted a little at that. "And anyway, even people who do have a passion aren't always good at what they do, and you are. Fuck, you're more than good, Kris. You were meant to do music and nothing else, even if means you sometimes forget to eat or sleep or put the cap on the fucking toothpaste tube. Which is why you need to be with somebody who gets that."
"You mean like you?" Kris asked with a faint smile.
"Damn straight."
"Well, 'straight' isn't exactly the word I would have picked," Kris smirked, then ducked his head with a giggle when Adam reached out to swat him on the hair.
"Oh my God, you're giggling! So what, does this mean you're not going to be all pissy and emo anymore for the rest of my fucking day off?"
"I don't know."
"Shit, I just don't even get you," Adam said, shaking his head as he watched Kris's face go from clouds to sunshine in the span of a minute.
But then, Kris's smile faded a little, and he pressed his lips together for a moment before he looked up into Adam's eyes, and said quietly "Actually, you do, Adam. Maybe more than anybody."
And before Adam even had time to respond to this Kris stood up from his chair and climbed into Adam's lap, his legs straddling Adam's hips as he fit his crotch snug with Adam's own and placed his hands on either side of Adam's face before parting his lips in that hungry, hazy way that drove Adam damn near crazy, and kissing Adam square on the mouth.
Oh God, Adam thought to himself dizzily as Kris slid his warm lips over Adam's with a passion like music, then drew away a little to pull his t-shirt off and unbutton the front of Adam's shirt so that he could press his bare chest against Adam's own while he kissed Adam's neck open-mouthed and ran his guitar-callused hands down Adam's sides till Adam was sure he was going to come right through the fabric of his jeans. However before he could start to beg Kris to please do something, God, Kris suddenly sunk down between Adam's knees and undid Adam's belt, then his jeans, and allowed Adam to fuck that sweet cherry-red mouth of his, Kris's eyes closing in something like helpless joy and his eyelashes fluttering against the fine smooth skin of his cheeks as Adam reached down and grasped that puppy-soft brown hair to thrust himself all the way in, to which Kris hummed around Adam's dick in approval and mashed his small perfect nose against Adam's belly as he swallowed Adam whole and Adam was almost glad that Kris had been such a little pisser today because Kris sure knew how to do make-up sex better than anybody else in the world, or even beyond.
"We can have a fucking dog," Adam muttered weakly after Kris had gulped down Adam's almost agonizing release and then lay his head on Adam's knee with a lazy smile, his lips faintly streaked with saliva and other things that made Adam tremble a little with the aftershock.
"No," Kris replied to that, closing his eyes and shaking his head against Adam's knee. "No point in having one if you don't want it around."
"Will you just shut up. Go get your fucking dog, I don't fucking care. It can even be a St. Bernard or whatever the fuck, just as long as the fucking thing doesn't get hair all over my clothes or whatever."
"I'll think about it," Kris said after licking a silvery drop off his bottom lip with a pink tongue and then looking up at Adam with a furrowed brow as though the whole damn dog idea had been Adam's in the first place.
"God, you suck. And no, don't even say it," Adam added when he saw Kris crack a wry smile and open his mouth to speak. "Because what you're going to do now is get up and make me something to eat, since I've fucking starved myself half the day all because of your stupid shit."
"So demanding," Kris said with a lopsided grin as he stood up from the floor and reached for his t-shirt. "Well what are you in the mood for? French toast? Eggs? or--"
"You can make me some of your biscuits and gravy, thank you very much. And keep your shirt off too if you please, since I prefer to have a nice view while my boy cooks for me."
"But it's cold in here."
"I don't give a fuck about that. And anyway the stove will warm you up while you cook over it."
"You jerk."
"I knooooow, right?"
"Just for that I should pick out a St. Bernard," Kris mumbled as he walked shirtless over to the stove and turned it on. "And train it to sleep in the closet so that it gets its hair all over your clothes."
"Asshole."
"Uh-huh," Kris replied, opening one of the cabinet doors with a smile and pulling out a pan. "Takes one to know one, I guess."
Kris was, for the most part, clear skies and calm waters, which was something that Adam loved about him; but it was the sudden rare storms that blew in from the Pacific, and the sweet clarity of light and peace that followed afterward, that sometimes nearly overwhelmed Adam, and left him about as storm-tossed and turned around as a schooner on the high seas
Kradam. NC-17. From the Metaphors and Dinosaurs universe.
Disclaimer: Don't know these people. Never happened.
For such a simple, down-home guy, Kris Allen sure was harder than hell to figure out sometimes.
He was like those Russian doll things, or the bear that went over the mountain: every time you thought you got down to the last painted wooden figure, or the final peak, there was another one before you, and another, till it seemed as though there was no end to the different layers that made up that curious, unassuming boy from the sticks of Arkansas.
For instance: despite the fact that Kris loved cock like a fat kid loved cake, he sure seemed to Adam sometimes to be about the ungayest person Adam had ever met in his life: his utter disregard for fashion, for one, and for two, his almost maniacal love of sports, especially football (ugh); but mostly it was the way he just was, the type of guy who would probably have never set Adam's gaydar off in the first place except for the fact that within the hour of Adam's first seeing him at the club in WeHo he'd sucked Adam's dick (or tried to, anyway) like a thousand-dollar-a-night hustler.
There was also the fact that, for such a hottie as he was, Kris seemed almost oblivious to his appearance, as though he just had no idea that from top to toe he was a gay man's wet dream, a twink to put all other twinks to utter shame; it was part of his ineffable charm, of course, but Adam was certain that if he'd been blessed with Kris's boyish good looks he would have worked that shit like a boss from Day One and taken over WeHo long ago as the reigning king of studliness.
Then there was the peculiar way that Kris seemed to live in his head most of the time: his need to lock himself in his study for hours at a pop, for instance, or the way he would sometimes stare into space as if lost in thought, his dark eyes taking on a dreamy distance as though he were seeing vistas within his mind that Adam was not, or could not be, privy to. Except on those occasions when Kris would perform for him, where all those different layers of feeling he kept buried inside would manifest themselves in his voice, in his expressions as he played his guitar, as though music were really the only language Kris was fluent in, and Adam had to admit there were times when he was jealous of the little shit's ability to paint a picture with music like something out of the fucking Sistine Chapel or something, Adam didn't fucking know.
Though perhaps not just music. For the truth was that, when they were in bed together, Kris's face would take on that same faraway dreaminess as Adam fucked him, as though the act of sex were a hallowed thing for Kris, even when they were doing the most raunchy things. And it was that almost more than the fantastic hotness of his bod that made sex with Kris Allen such a mind-blowing pleasure, because Adam couldn't recall ever having been with anybody who loved to fuck as much as Kris did, not even Brad, and that was saying quite a lot.
Yet you'd never know it just by looking at him, say, as he watched one of his stupid football games, or sat in bed of a Sunday morning as he peered through his glasses at his crossword puzzle, his little face furrowed in concentration as his little fuzzy hand brought the pencil to the newspaper to write down a few more letters, before reaching over to the bed stand for his cup of coffee and taking a sip from it as his eyes continued to focus on the crossword even as he mumbled to Adam in his Southern drawl "Maybe we should get a dog."
"A dog?" Adam asked blankly, looking up from his cup of tea.
"Sure," Kris shrugged, setting his coffee down and then smiling over at Adam through his glasses. "Be nice to have a dog, don't you think?"
"Um, excuse me, but I'm not exactly sure how we went from crossword puzzles to dogs," Adam remarked, setting his own cup down and studying Kris's smirking face.
"Oh. Well, there was a question on the puzzle about barns, and that got me to thinking about farms and stuff, and then all the kinds of animals on a farm, like cows and stuff, and then how most farms always have at least one dog," Kris finished, nodding his head to himself as though this train of thought should have been obvious even to a five-year-old.
"Oh, of course," Adam replied, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "How silly of me."
"Jerk," Kris said, flipping his pencil at Adam's shoulder with a grin. "But really, don't you think it'd be nice to have a dog?"
"Sure, so that it can jump on the bed all day and pee on the rug and get hairs everywhere," Adam replied, wrinkling his nose at the idea of all his nice clothes covered in dog fluff.
"Well but we can train it though," Kris reasoned, tossing his newspaper onto the floor and taking his glasses off to look at Adam with those soft puppy-brown eyes, and Adam knew he was going to lose this battle before it even begun because damn Kris Allen's stupid face.
"Shit. Well what kind of dog then," Adam sighed, leaning back on his pillow with weary resignation.
"How about a collie?" Kris smiled, scooting closer to Adam and drawing an arm around Adam's waist.
"Fuck no. Too much hair," Adam replied, shaking his head vehemently. "How about one of those little weenie dogs instead?" he added, thinking that those things had hardly any hair on them and were nice and tiny so that they couldn't even try to jump on the bed or anything.
"Nah," Kris vetoed, shaking his head likewise. "We need to get a big dog, you know? Nice big dog you can play fetch with and stuff. Those little dogs are okay, but the big ones--well, they're just real nice," Kris added thoughtfully.
"But I like the little ones," Adam replied to this, putting his arm around Kris's neck and planting a kiss on his soft floppy hair.
"You don't say," Kris said with a smirk as he leaned his head on Adam's shoulder.
"Shut up."
"Well," Kris said after a time, sort of staring across the room as his eyes took on that distance that told Adam he was in Kris-land again. "Maybe a medium-size dog then. With short hair. Like a beagle."
"Can't we just get a bird or something instead?" Adam asked. "Or a lizard or something? Or--hey, how about a snake," Adam added with a wicked smile. "That would be siiiick."
"Well maybe you can have a snake, and I can have my dog," Kris replied unperturbed.
"Great, so now we're going to have a fucking zoo then?"
"Why not? This place is big enough."
"And who's going to take care of all those things? I'm hardly home much as it is, and I can't see you coming out of your damn cave long enough to take a piss, much less pick up after a dog."
"Are we going to go over that again?"
"No, just saying. I know you, Kris Procrastinator Allen, which means I know if we get a damn dog or whatever the poor thing would just probably starve or something when I'm away."
"I wouldn't do that," Kris answered now, pulling away from Adam now and frowning like offended. "You think I'd neglect an animal like that?"
"Damn, chill out," Adam replied, rolling his eyes. "Why are you being so defensive? I was only joking."
"No you weren't."
"Yes I--Wait, what the fuck?" Adam said when Kris abruptly stood up from the bed and began to march out of the room. "What in the fuck's the matter?"
But Kris didn't answer, just flipped Adam the bird and stormed out the door as though Adam had called him a whore or something, so that Adam only sat there for a minute wondering what in the fuck he'd said that could have pissed Kris off so much.
"Mother of fuck," Adam muttered to himself after a moment, standing up from the bed and exiting the room likewise to go find that little shit, who naturally was locked in his cave and pissily playing his guitar, judging by the clumsy off-key notes that floated to Adam through the door.
Adam was about to knock on the door and shout something cold at Kris, but at the last minute he thought better of it, and turned away to go back upstairs and take a shower, then get dressed to go out and find something to eat because he would be fucked sideways if he was going to deal with this kind of fuckery on his fucking day off.
He didn't even bother to tell Kris he was leaving, just got into his car and drove through the big gate that protected his domain from the curious and the crazy, and motored off down the street without even noticing where he was going, just needed to get away so that he didn't kick Kris's study door open and slap his face off like the little bitch he was being.
However he didn't end up getting anything to eat after all, but rather drove to the top of the hills and parked the car to stare out the windshield at the vista below, a scrim of smog blanketing the valley so thickly that Adam's eyes could hardly see the buildings and the streets beneath it. But it was all right: for Adam knew that all it would take was a good rain to wash the haze away, and afterward the valley would be as clear and pristine as the promised land it promised to be for so many.
It was then that Adam started the car up again and drove home, where he carefully avoided Kris's study and made straight to the kitchen to try to find something to eat that he didn't have to cook. However, when he walked through the kitchen door he was surprised to find Kris sitting at the kitchen table staring out the window, dressed in an old t-shirt and jeans but bearing almost the exact same aspect he had on the morning that Katy had called him.
"I'm sorry," Kris said after time without turning his gaze from the window. "I acted like a jerk, I know. And I'm sorry."
"I just don't understand why you got so upset," Adam replied as he took a few steps toward Kris and then stood in front of him trying to read the expression on his face.
"I don't know," Kris replied, lowering his head and running his fingers through his hair. "It's just that you--I mean, maybe....I mean, I think you were right."
"Oh shit," Adam said, sitting down in the chair next to Kris and drawing the stupid boy into his arms. "Don't be such an idiot. I know you wouldn't neglect a dog or whatever, I mean--"
"No, that's not it," Kris replied, shaking his head. "I mean it is, but....Well, I mean that's sort of the story of my life, you know?" Kris added, glancing down at the floor. "I mean, I know it's why Katy left me--well, one of the reasons, anyway," Kris amended somewhat sheepishly. "And I know it's why I couldn't finish school, and why I'm pretty much nowhere now. But that's not your fault," Kris finished, reaching up to finger the hem of Adam's shirt. "So I'm sorry I got all weird on you."
"What, because you don't want to do anything except play music?" Adam asked, trying to look into Kris's woebegone face. "Don't you know how lucky you are, to have a passion in life? Most people don't have shit, Kris. All they have is their crappy job and their TV and their computer porn or whatever--no, I'm serious," Adam insisted when Kris snorted a little at that. "And anyway, even people who do have a passion aren't always good at what they do, and you are. Fuck, you're more than good, Kris. You were meant to do music and nothing else, even if means you sometimes forget to eat or sleep or put the cap on the fucking toothpaste tube. Which is why you need to be with somebody who gets that."
"You mean like you?" Kris asked with a faint smile.
"Damn straight."
"Well, 'straight' isn't exactly the word I would have picked," Kris smirked, then ducked his head with a giggle when Adam reached out to swat him on the hair.
"Oh my God, you're giggling! So what, does this mean you're not going to be all pissy and emo anymore for the rest of my fucking day off?"
"I don't know."
"Shit, I just don't even get you," Adam said, shaking his head as he watched Kris's face go from clouds to sunshine in the span of a minute.
But then, Kris's smile faded a little, and he pressed his lips together for a moment before he looked up into Adam's eyes, and said quietly "Actually, you do, Adam. Maybe more than anybody."
And before Adam even had time to respond to this Kris stood up from his chair and climbed into Adam's lap, his legs straddling Adam's hips as he fit his crotch snug with Adam's own and placed his hands on either side of Adam's face before parting his lips in that hungry, hazy way that drove Adam damn near crazy, and kissing Adam square on the mouth.
Oh God, Adam thought to himself dizzily as Kris slid his warm lips over Adam's with a passion like music, then drew away a little to pull his t-shirt off and unbutton the front of Adam's shirt so that he could press his bare chest against Adam's own while he kissed Adam's neck open-mouthed and ran his guitar-callused hands down Adam's sides till Adam was sure he was going to come right through the fabric of his jeans. However before he could start to beg Kris to please do something, God, Kris suddenly sunk down between Adam's knees and undid Adam's belt, then his jeans, and allowed Adam to fuck that sweet cherry-red mouth of his, Kris's eyes closing in something like helpless joy and his eyelashes fluttering against the fine smooth skin of his cheeks as Adam reached down and grasped that puppy-soft brown hair to thrust himself all the way in, to which Kris hummed around Adam's dick in approval and mashed his small perfect nose against Adam's belly as he swallowed Adam whole and Adam was almost glad that Kris had been such a little pisser today because Kris sure knew how to do make-up sex better than anybody else in the world, or even beyond.
"We can have a fucking dog," Adam muttered weakly after Kris had gulped down Adam's almost agonizing release and then lay his head on Adam's knee with a lazy smile, his lips faintly streaked with saliva and other things that made Adam tremble a little with the aftershock.
"No," Kris replied to that, closing his eyes and shaking his head against Adam's knee. "No point in having one if you don't want it around."
"Will you just shut up. Go get your fucking dog, I don't fucking care. It can even be a St. Bernard or whatever the fuck, just as long as the fucking thing doesn't get hair all over my clothes or whatever."
"I'll think about it," Kris said after licking a silvery drop off his bottom lip with a pink tongue and then looking up at Adam with a furrowed brow as though the whole damn dog idea had been Adam's in the first place.
"God, you suck. And no, don't even say it," Adam added when he saw Kris crack a wry smile and open his mouth to speak. "Because what you're going to do now is get up and make me something to eat, since I've fucking starved myself half the day all because of your stupid shit."
"So demanding," Kris said with a lopsided grin as he stood up from the floor and reached for his t-shirt. "Well what are you in the mood for? French toast? Eggs? or--"
"You can make me some of your biscuits and gravy, thank you very much. And keep your shirt off too if you please, since I prefer to have a nice view while my boy cooks for me."
"But it's cold in here."
"I don't give a fuck about that. And anyway the stove will warm you up while you cook over it."
"You jerk."
"I knooooow, right?"
"Just for that I should pick out a St. Bernard," Kris mumbled as he walked shirtless over to the stove and turned it on. "And train it to sleep in the closet so that it gets its hair all over your clothes."
"Asshole."
"Uh-huh," Kris replied, opening one of the cabinet doors with a smile and pulling out a pan. "Takes one to know one, I guess."
Kris was, for the most part, clear skies and calm waters, which was something that Adam loved about him; but it was the sudden rare storms that blew in from the Pacific, and the sweet clarity of light and peace that followed afterward, that sometimes nearly overwhelmed Adam, and left him about as storm-tossed and turned around as a schooner on the high seas