rivers_bend

Title: The World and its Shine
Pairing: Adam/Tommy (high school AU)
Words: 2300
Rating: R
The Obvious: I do not know anyone whose public persona is used in this story and neither believe nor mean to imply this ever happened.
A/N: another part of World Verse, third, chronologically, after Woah, in this World. (for day 21 of mmom)
Summary: Tommy's starting to think this is maybe a date.



The third GSA meeting has thirteen attendees. Tommy would like to think it's the posters he and Adam spent three days making, but it's probably because Adam made Danielle come, and she brought two of her other friends. Since Tommy only saved one chair, when Adam shows up with a crowd he figures they'll take the group of empty seats across the circle. But Adam peels off and drops down next to Tommy, just in time for Maria to start calling the meeting to order.

"Hey," Adam whispers, hand heavy on Tommy's thigh so he can lean closer. "Do you want to go see a movie tomorrow?"

Maria glares at them while she continues her explanation of how they are going to go around the room and introduce themselves, so Tommy just nods and gives Adam a little smile. Tommy wonders what they're gonna see, if Danielle's coming, if Adam likes to sit at the front of the theater or the back. He pauses in his musings to tell the group that his name is Tommy and he's a freshman and his favorite TV show is usually whatever is on AMC, and to listen to Adam tell everyone his name and grade and that he likes American Idol. After that the conversation moves on to what the club should do for their booth at Winter Carnival, but Tommy's too busy noticing that Adam seems to have no plans to move his hand from Tommy's thigh to pay attention.

It's resting just about exactly where Tommy's own hand would be if it wasn't hovering awkwardly by his chest because he's not sure what else to do with it. He can see Danielle across the circle having some kind of conversation with Adam via wiggling eyebrows and significant looks. He doesn't turn his head to look at Adam's replies.

At some point during an impassioned discussion about vanilla versus chocolate versus red velvet cupcakes, Tommy lets his hand settle on his hip; low enough that it's comfortable, but high enough that he doesn't look like he's trying to hold Adam's hand, in case Adam has maybe just forgotten he's still got it on Tommy's leg.

"Whatever cupcakes we have, they should have plenty of frosting," Tommy says. He's not that picky about cake, but he likes lots of frosting.

One of Danielle's friends says she makes knitted cupcakes if anyone wants to sell those too, and Tommy tunes out again, examining the splay of Adam's fingers, the way his nails are neat ovals, painted black and artfully chipped, perfect rock-star style. Tommy knows Adam likes to sing, and he's good--it's never awkward when he starts singing along with his dad's records--but Tommy wonders if maybe he plays guitar or something, too. Tommy plays a little, has one of his uncle's old guitars he fools around on, and if Adam plays, maybe they could jam together some time. Adam has good hands.

And then Adam's patting his knee and his hand is leaving and Tommy looks up, wondering if he did something wrong, to find everyone standing and getting their bags. Which means he just spent at least twenty minutes staring at Adam's fingers and daydreaming.

"I have play rehearsal now," Adam says. "But I'll call you when I get home; we can make a plan for tomorrow."

"You're in a play?" Which, okay, maybe wasn't Adam's point exactly, but Tommy totally didn't know that, and it's pretty cool. The drama club at school only does a play in the spring, so he must be part of some community theater or something. The way he was reading Romeo and Juliet he must be really good.

"Yeah, it's just--" Adam waves his hand dismissively. "So is there anything you want to see?"

The way he asks, the way Danielle's left already, the way he had his hand on Tommy's thigh for like an hour--Tommy's starting to think this is maybe a date, not just a couple of friends going to the movies on a Saturday afternoon. "Oh," he says. "I can look and see what's playing when I get home, and we can pick something when you call?"

"Yay!" Adam says. "Perfect."

They end up at the matinee of the latest superhero movie, because this close to Christmas it's all blockbusters and Oscar hopefuls, and neither of them wanted anything depressing. Leila drops them off at eleven with instructions to call her before six if they want a ride home again, and after that they're gonna be in trouble for missing dinner.

"Oh yeah," Adam says. "Did you want to come over for dinner?"

Tommy's had dinner at Adam's a couple of times, but it's always just been they were there already and he didn't go home. This is the first time Adam's actually invited him. It shouldn't feel weird (awesome, weirdly awesome) but it does. When Tommy says yes, Leila's smile is almost as big as her son's.

The movie is probably good. It's definitely loud and colorful. But during the trailers Adam reaches over and starts playing with the ends of Tommy's friendship bracelets like he did that time they were watching DVDs, only this time his fingers keep brushing Tommy's wrist. And then the back of his hand. It's like Tommy doesn't even have a body. Or legs. Or anything but the hand Adam's touching and the arm it's attached to. And a dick which is apparently really into even just the idea of hand holding.

When Tommy can't stand it anymore, he sneaks his hand under Adam's and gets them palm to palm, threads their fingers together, putting a stop to the tickling teasing, but not alleviating any of the thrilling buzz under his skin. The way Adam clings to Tommy's fingers makes him think Adam had been trying to work up to a similar move. Now Tommy kinda wonders how long it would have taken him. Oh well. Too late now. They're officially holding hands. In the dark, in a movie theater, on a Saturday afternoon. It feels epic. It feels kind of normal.

Tommy doesn't usually feel all that normal.

For a while they hold hands on the armrest between them, Adam's thumb rubbing the base of Tommy's, Tommy's thumb tracing Adam's knuckles, liquid heat coiling lazily up Tommy's arm, and then Adam edges their linked hands over onto Tommy's lap. The heat is not so lazy. The heat is more like a lake. Of fire. In his pants. That could be partly to do with the river that seems to be burning on the screen. Tommy has no idea why it's burning, but he does hope that whatever superhero he's supposed to be watching comes to rescue the dog soon.

"Is this okay?" Adam's head is tilted onto Tommy's shoulder so he can whisper right in Tommy's ear, and he's rubbing the Tommy's inseam with his fingertips and the back of Tommy's own hand. It feels absolutely nothing like rubbing his own thigh. Not that Tommy spends a whole lot of time doing that. Mostly he just cuts to the chase and goes right for his dick. Oh god their hands are so close to his dick. If Tommy pushed a little bit, Adam's wrist would be touching it. Oh fuck, Adam asked him a question.

"Is--" he says. The question definitely started with 'is.' "Okay. Yes. Oh god." Tommy is hoping that last part wasn't out loud.

Whether it was or not, Adam looks up at him and beams, so it's probably okay. He slouches and slouches so he's not bent over sideways in order to have his head on Tommy's shoulder, and that means his knees are spread wide, his right leg almost on top of Tommy's left. Tommy is so fucking turned on. He can't stop thinking about how Adam's lips are like three inches from his chin, which means maybe three and a half from his lips, and Adam's holding his hand like he might want to kiss him. Maybe not right here, in the theater, right in the middle with people behind them and a few seats away, but maybe later, before Leila comes to pick them up, there will be someplace less crowded, and Adam might--

"What about this?" Adam asks, and this time while he has his lips next to Tommy's ear, he presses them lightly to the very corner of Tommy's jaw.

Tommy nods. Speaking isn't really an option.

Adam does it again, then kisses the hollow under Tommy's cheekbone, the corner of his lips. Tommy wants to turn so badly, make the next spot Adam kisses be his mouth, but he can't move. Can't tear his eyes from the screen in front of him, even though he couldn't tell you what was on it if you held a gun to his head. He's holding so tight to Adam's hand his fingers are going numb, and his toes are curled to fists in his shoes. But Adam, maybe making up for forcing Tommy to push the hand-holding, lifts his free hand and turns Tommy toward him with a fingertip to his chin.

Tommy's stomach swoops down behind his balls and then up into his throat in the time it takes Adam to lift his face and press his lips to Tommy's. It's dry, and warm, and sweet, and what the fuck, is Tommy shaking? He can't be shaking from a kiss shorter than the ones his Auntie sometimes gives him. It's just a quick tremor down his arm. A shiver. Air conditioning on his neck. Then Adam does it again, a fractionally longer press this time, and pulls away with a sigh. The most contented sound Tommy's ever heard. He snuggles back into Tommy's shoulder and tucks their hands between Tommy's thighs. If the movie theater caught fire right now, this would still be the best first date in history, Tommy's certain.

The movie theater does not catch fire. A car blows up and a truck explodes and a forest starts to burn, and people are screaming and running, and there's a wall of water from somewhere, and Adam is holding Tommy's hand and nosing at his neck and pressing against Tommy's knee with his thigh, and the water puts the fire out, and somehow no one drowns, and Adam's stroking from the base of Tommy's thumb up to the nail, around the cuticle and back down again, over and over and Tommy might melt.

"You're not going to melt," Adam says, and can he read minds? Because that would totally be much worse than the movie theater catching fire. But then Tommy realizes that he's actually murmuring under his breath.

He talks to himself, he knows, but not usually when there is anyone to hear him.

"Shhhhhh," one of the people behind them hisses. Tommy starts guiltily, jostling Adam, who sits up so he can turn around and glare.

That puts an end to the snuggling, but before Tommy's disappointment can take shape, the credits are rolling and they're going to have to leave soon anyway.

They stay to the very end, because superhero movies always have a bit after the credits, but since Tommy's not a big comic book fan, and doesn't have a clue what the movie itself was about, the joke falls flat. Adam's hand is big and warm on the back of his neck, though, and that's pretty awesome.

After the movie, they get some lunch, and Adam keeps kicking Tommy under the table, like he just has to be touching him. Tommy knows how he feels. Full of nachos and ice cream, they go to the drug store and look at magazines, Adam pressed up against Tommy's back, leaning over his shoulder, bumping their cheeks together, sometimes brushing Tommy's waist with his fingertips. Then it's almost five o'clock, and they call Adam's mom to come get them.

Tommy hopes maybe they'll have time before dinner to kiss again, but Leila makes them help her cook, and then Tommy's mom calls and wants him home. Adam does walk him half way, and they stop in the shadow of a Magnolia tree where Adam thanks him for the best day ever and folds him up in a hug.

"I want to kiss you again," he says into Tommy's hair. "But if I start, I won't want to stop. So I should probably wait until tomorrow."

"What are we doing tomorrow?" Tommy asks. He has homework, and probably a pile of chores, and his cousin might be coming over, but if Adam has plans, he's totally doing that.

"I don't know," Adam answers, pulling back enough to smile at him. "I have rehearsal again, and Dad has jobs for me, and I have that essay for English, but I definitely think somewhere in there I need to find time to kiss you."

"Yes," Tommy says. "Definitely."