Heart Line

Title: Heart Line
Words: ~2300
Rating: PG
A/N: Written in response to jerakeen's suggestion that a kiss on a palm would be nice. In other words, Jerakeen, this is for you.
Warning: I need to check my cliche_bingo card on this one, let's just leave it at that. Also, not betad, ack! Plus, not self-edited enough yet, because I was trying to get this up before the fest deadline.
Summary: A bet. A palm. A heart line.


"Hey, Kris, give me your hand."

"What?" Kris looks up from his drink, blurry.

"Your hand!" Adam is laughing, with the light in his eyes that means he's got something to prove.

Kris moves his drink to his left hand and moves his right over into Adam's space, only half paying attention. It's New Year's again, and he's alone again. He's not getting younger, and this really isn't the way he pictured his life would go.

"Watch and learn, my friends," Adam says, holding Kris's hand and turning it so his palm faces down.

Their assembled friends roll their eyes and laugh at Adam, but they do watch.

"The first thing is, you don't go straight for the jugular. It's like anything, some buildup makes it better."

Kris takes a swig of his drink and thinks about how, two years ago on this very day, Katy told him it was over for real.

"Act a little more interested, please," Adam says, poking Kris in the side.

Kris shakes himself. "Huh?"

Everyone laughs, including Adam. "I'm trying to make a point here."

"Uh. Okay?"

Adam rolls his eyes and slowly, showily, shoves Kris's sweater-cuff up about half an inch, staring at Kris the whole time, then bends and breathes on the back of Kris's hand. He raises his eyes to Kris. "Now the important part here," he says to the room, "is to wait until the victim..." everyone laughs, "rather, the beneficiary, is watching, and then to keep your eyes on theirs the whole time."

Kris watches Adam, bemused, still not sure what is going on. Adam winks, then bends and ghosts his lips on the back of Kris's hand, eyes locked with Kris's. It kind of reminds Kris of how he and Katy used to kiss their clasped fingers when they walked, swinging them up and laughing, taking turns.

"Focus," Adam stage-whispers, and everyone laughs again.

Adam turns to the group. "It's okay, sometimes there's resistance. This doesn't prove anything yet. The next step is what kills them, anyway." He takes Kris's hand and turns it palm-up. "Now here, you need to gauge your victim. Kisses to the palm can be sweet or x-rated. Let me think..." He tips his head to the side and makes a show out of examining Kris.

"I still say you're crazy." It's Charles, from the loveseat one over. "There's is no way on earth a hand kiss can rival a real kiss. And I should know, because I can remember every kiss I've ever gotten, since there haven't been that many in the scheme of things."

"Mmmhmm, you just aren't listening. Kris, what do you think? Help me out here."

"What's the question again?"

Everyone laughs, and Adam rolls his eyes.

Charles pipes up. "Dude, pay attention. The bet, and there's a substantial sum riding on it, is over what type of kiss is better, hand or lips. Your rich and famous friend feels like throwing money away tonight, so he bet that hand is better."

"Palm," Adam says. "I said palm. And the bet, precisely, is whether palm or lips is better. I say, because it's so rare, it's palm."

"And I, along with everyone else in the room, says lips are best, because, duh."

Kris feels the corner of his mouth turn up against his will. Okay, it's one of those times. They're all conspiring to cheer him up, so it's only fair to play along. "Well, uh. So, how are we judging?"

Adam sparkles at him from over his hand. "You are judging, my friend. Now relax, and pretend we just met, and I'm some, I don't know, gorgeous girl who's also kind and saves children in Africa." Adam chuckles, but it sounds weird, off a little. "Or maybe a guy like Brian, all hunky and--"

"Adam!" Dani throws a wadded-up napkin at Adam and he stops in mid-sentence.

Kris squirms a little. So he did a little exploration. It didn't mean anything; it didn't break the cycle of his sadness like he'd hoped. "Okay. It's a stretch, but I can close my eyes and--"

"You can't close your eyes! That's ruins it!" Adam fake-pouts at him over his hand.

Kris has no choice but to laugh, and he's aware even as he does that Adam's responsible for most of Kris's laughter these days. The poor guy has been working overtime trying to keep Kris from being miserable.

"So, here we go. Just, compare this with the typical first kiss on the lips. That's all." Adam brings Kris's hand close to his mouth and bends his head a little. His bangs fall in his eyes and Kris resists a sudden urge to push them out of the way. His breath is warm on Kris's palm; little tendrils of warmth spiral up Kris's arm.

"Again, eye contact is key." Adam locks eyes with Kris and Kris can't look away; Adam's eyes are huge and very blue, pupils large in the half-light of the room.

Kris takes a deep breath; it's a little stuffy in here.

"Anticipation is half of it," Adam says, voice a little husky. "So you don't want to rush."

Kris shifts on the loveseat; he's been curled up here for a long time and feels a little restless.

"You don't want to make it about sex if it's a first kiss. It needs to be tender, but full of promise."

Kris swallows. Adam lowers his lips to the inside of Kris's palm; Kris lets Adam move his hand how he wants it.

Adam's lips brush, just once, soft, then he hovers over Kris's palm. "The first time, eyes open, soft and quick."

Kris feels a little breathless. They really need to open a window or something; California is hot no matter what month it is.

"The second time," Adam looks up at Kris through his eyelashes, eyes dark, "the second time, longer, close your eyes like you can't help it."

Adam brings Kris's hand up to his mouth again, presses his full lips harder in the center of Kris's hand, lingers, eyes closed. It almost looks like Adam really can't help it, even though that's kind of silly to think. Kris can see every eyelash, reddish gold showing through the mascara, against Adam's pale skin.

Adam finally pulls off, only opening his eyes after a long time, and Kris sucks in a breath. Huh. Seems maybe he was holding it that whole time.

"So what do you think?" Adam says softly, Kris's hand still held in his.

"I--" Kris clears his throat. There are five other people in this room, but everything's narrowed down to just them, their hands still clasped, Adam's eyes on him with that weird look in them. Or not weird, actually. A look they've had for a long time.

"Guys, I think there's something burning in the kitchen." Charles's voice.

"Yeah. Come on, let's get more booze," Dani says.

Just like that, everyone's gone, and it's the two of them. Adam rolls his eyes. "Sorry about that. They're sweet, but--"

"Yeah." Kris takes a deep breath. "Adam, I'm sorry--"

Adam flinches a little. "No, I know. This wasn't--"

"No. You don't get it." Kris shakes his head, bows his head over their clasped hands. "I'm sorry because I--Well, I can be pretty stupid."

"Not stupid," Adam murmurs. "That job is for me."

Kris thinks about the string of Adam's failed relationships, some of his excesses -- though come to think about it, that's all smoothed out a little recently; Adam hasn't been seeing anybody for a while. "Yeah, well, you, too, then."

If the last few years have taught Kris anything, it's that following the rules doesn't always work. He takes a deep breath. "Can we just... skip over the conversation. Can we, can you, do that again. So I can vote. I wasn't really paying attention. Before."

Adam darts a shocked glance over their joined hands. He lifts an eyebrow at whatever he sees on Kris's face, but Kris knows Adam well enough to know he won't be able to resist the challenge.

Sure enough, Adam lifts Kris's palm to his lips again, pressing a gentle kiss once, then again, eyes fluttering closed. Adam's head tilts a little, and he rubs his cheek against Kris's hand, then opens his eyes and pulls back fast, looks away.

"Yeah, no," Kris says, heart squeezing. He pulls their hands up to his face, turns Adam's hand over and carefully, slowly, kisses the line cutting across Adam's palm, then the diagonal line intersecting it, not looking at Adam, because suddenly he's afraid he's wrong, and Adam's only being a good friend.

Kris's eyes close. Adam's skin is warm and soft and very, very real. The tendril of warmth grows, twists in his chest, intermixes with the Adam-feeling he's always had.

Oh. Oh.

Kris raises his head, and Adam is right there, holding perfectly still, eyes riveted on Kris.

"I think," Kris voice is all raspy and he clears his throat,"I think to be fair, I'd have to," he swallows and looks into Adam's eyes,"I'd have to have a traditional kiss to compare." His eyes drop to Adam's lips, then dart to his eyes again, looking for permission.

Adam's still motionless, frozen, except for where his teeth are worrying his lower lip. Kris can practically see him weighing the possible costs.

"It's just a bet," Kris murmurs.

Adam's blinks; a wave of something -- something recognizable now that Kris is paying attention -- washes over his face and then is gone as quickly as it appeared.

"It's just a bet, if we want that to be all it is," Kris amends, brave, squeezing Adam's hand tighter.

Adam's eyes widen.

Kris swallows. His heart is beating fast and he's seriously lacking for air, but there's only one thing to do. He leans forward, leans in, whispers, "Can I?"

"Kris," Adam says, voice breaking a little on the vowel, and that's all the answer Kris needs. They both sigh when their lips come together, and it's sweet, so sweet, a gentle press.

Kris scoots a little closer and Adam's free hand comes up, tentative, to Kris's face. The feel of Adam's palm on his cheek makes Kris's eyes burn; he presses his lips harder against Adam's, brings his hand up to curl in the hair at the base of Adam's neck.

Heat licks at the base of Kris's spine, shocking after such a long time without feeling anything stronger than mild desire. He breathes in, shocked. Adam's hand curves tighter around his face and his lips press harder on Kris's.

Warmth pools in Kris's belly, spreads, blends and mixes with the tightness in his chest.

Oh.

He's an idiot, stupid, blind. Unless... is he reading Adam wrong, is this just some thing, one of Adam's things about pushing envelopes or making stupid bets or--

"Kris." Adam's voice is thick, choked; his hand slides into Kris's hair and clenches tight, his other hand fists in Kris's shirt.

It's real, then, them, like this, and it's -- it's overwhelming when he leans back in for more, wet and hot and intense, tongues curving around each other, little wet sounds and the feel of Adam's body, so close; big and strong and male.

"There better not be anything embarrassing going on in here!" Charles voice, booming from the hallway.

"Yes, because Adam never does anything embarrassing." Dani, close behind.

They spring apart at the first sound of Charles's voice. Kris feels like a teenager: his heart is tripping in his ears and he can't get enough oxygen. He's pretty sure his blush could be seen from space; his cheeks are warm and he's breathing hard.

Their friends ignore them and settle around the room. Everything is a blur of sight and sound to Kris, and from the dazed look on Adam's face, he's not doing much better.

Eventually, Charles asks something in their general direction.

"What?" Kris finally says; his tongue feels thick and sounds seem muffled.

"I said," Charles says, enunciating slowly and carefully. "Who won the bet? Me, right?" Somebody, probably Dani, coughs; it's obviously choked-off laughter.

Adam makes the first sound he's made since their friends came back into the room; he laughs, first softly, then head tilted back, full-throated.

Kris smiles. It's tiny at first, then spreads into something wide that makes his cheeks hurt. "I, uh," he dares a quick glance at Adam, "think it's a draw?"

"I don't know, Kristopher. I think we need to run the test again." Adam puts on his lascivious look, eyebrows waggling.

Kris raises an eyebrow at Adam in turn. "That would require you letting go of my hand, though, man."

Adam looks down to where he's got Kris's hand in a death-grip, then cracks up again, blushing. Kris hasn't seen Adam so happy in a very long time. Kris squeezes Adam's hand harder. "But that's not something I really want you to do right now, so I'll cover your bet if you forfeit."

"Awwww," Dani says softly.

"It's about god damned time," Charles says.

Later, when everyone's gone, and it's just him and Adam, staring at each other a little wide-eyed in the hallway by Adam's bedroom, Kris says," So, this is a little weird."

Adam takes Kris's hand in his. "Yeah. But also--"

"Also not," Kris whispers.

"Yeah," Adam murmers, pressing his lips to Kris's palm; sweet and passionate all at once on the heart line.

Kris sighs and leans in.

Adam straightens to kiss Kris and whispers, suddenly fierce, "And by the way, I won. I so fucking won."

"Me, too," Kris manages, right before their lips touch. "Me, too."

~The End~