The Proper-FalseAuthor: lilian_choRating:
PG-13 for mild swearingFandom:
Nicholas still doesn't care for Michael Jackson
. As always, there's Chinese jokes
's aviation, awkward moments and cuddle challenges and writing_game
's afraid prompt
Unbeta-ed as of yet, please do point out jarring SpaG and/or continuity errors. Not as much cuddling as I'd like ^^;; Also, Nicholas' phone doesn't have auto-complete. I feel that the last third is not that well-developed/fleshed out. Will fix when the whole thing is beta-ed.
Part [ One
Nicholas stood at the threshold of the master bedroom, suddenly feeling awkward. “Should I leave my stuff in the guest bedroom?”
Adrien didn't look up from his rummaging of drawers. “No, that's fine. Just put it next to the bedside table.”
Nicholas grabbed his toothbrush case and a pajama bottom, then zipped his carry-on closed.
“Here's a towel and T-shirt, as requested.” Adrien handed him a wonderfully fluffy towel and a grey T-shirt.
“I take my shower in the morning, but thanks.” He rubbed the soft T-shirt against his cheek.
“Did it pass inspection?”
His mouth, running on automatic, answered, “It's not as soft as freshly skinned kitten pelt, but it'll have to do.”
“I'll just take five minutes,” Nicholas said, hand on the bathroom doorknob.
He saw Adrien nod and closed the door softly. He briefly considered locking the door, but told himself he was being ridiculous. Adrien could’ve accosted him in the kitchen if that had been his goal all along. Or he could’ve jumped me in the car, the elevator, the foyer, or on that black leather sofa...
He stopped that line of thought before he ended up needing more than five minutes in the bathroom.
He turned on warm water and poured some facial soap on his palm. If there was anything he took to heart from his mother’s teachings, it was to cleanse and moisturize every night. Since he never had a severe acne problem, he figured she must be right. Well, that and he’d inherited good genes.
He tried picturing Adrien as an acne-ridden teenager with a side part. Somehow, he couldn’t imagine acne would have affected his self-assurance. Sam had acne scars and he never had trouble pulling babes. Granted straight guys aren’t held to the same fickle standards as gay guys are, but still. He dried his face on a corner of the fluffy towel and made a space for it at the polished towel hangers.
Adrien’s toothpaste came in cinnamon flavor. Why can’t adult toothpastes have the same fun flavors as a kid’s?
He brushed his teeth methodically, counting seconds in his head. Shoot. I forgot to call Maureen. I’ll text her before I go to sleep.
He spat out red-tinged toothpaste and rinsed his mouth. After rinsing his toothbrush, he dropped it into the glass next to the sink, where it promptly swung around to rest against Adrien’s toothbrush, bristles to bristles.
“Whoops.” He rearranged the toothbrushes so they crossed at the handles instead. Haven't even kissed the guy; he probably wouldn't appreciate sharing germs this way.
He stopped and stared at himself in the mirror. He hadn’t even kissed the guy, and here he was preparing to sleep next to him in the same bed. Because there was no other way he could interpret “Leave your stuff next to the bedside table.”
He made a face at his reflection. “Ahh, screw it.” He wasted no time taking off his clothes and putting on his pajama bottom. Pulling on Adrien's soft grey T-shirt over his head, he inhaled the faint smell of softener, detergent, and something that reminded him of rain. The shirt hung loose on his shoulders, but he had never been the gym rat type.
Grabbing his haphazardly folded clothes, he stepped out of the bathroom to find Adrien at the threshold, hand poised to knock. They paused and looked at each other. Adrien had changed into expensive-looking pajamas with tasteful navy stripes. Nicholas was tempted to touch it and see if it were as flowing soft as it looked.
“Just wanted to let you know that your phone had been vibrating the last two minutes.”
“Shoot, Maureen!” He leaped and scooped up his phone from the bedside table. “But it's barely eleven!” He wailed.
Adrien wisely didn’t ask questions. “I'm taking a shower.” He turned and looked at Nicholas. “Oh, and I sleep on the side near the window.”
Nicholas made assenting noises, scrolling to see three new text messages in his inbox. Not wasting seconds to read them, he immediately texted, “Still unsullied & alive. Not rapist/axe murderer.”
Ten seconds later, Maureen replied, “NOT FUNNY. I was worried!!!”
“Sry m(~.~)m But it's not 12 yet.”
“Like you would've remembered if I hadn't texted you. Don't go doing anything crazy!”
“Going to sleep now. Sry again. Good night.”
Nicholas grinned. If she was being sarcastic, she couldn’t be that
Stuffing his clothes into his carry-on, he put his phone back on the bedside table and made himself comfortable in the massive bed. He idly thought that he probably could fit four of his cousins and himself into the bed. It’d be even more spacious after they kick Kathleen off for bitching about their sleeping arrangement.
Adrien's pillowcase felt cool and soft under his cheek. He hoped he wouldn’t drool on it.
From the bathroom he could hear the soothing sound of running water. Before Adrien even turned off the water, he already dropped off to sleep.
Nicholas woke up feeling inexplicably warm. His comforter felt heavier and...clingier than usual. Did Sam crash here last night?
His eyes slowly focused on the arm slung on top of him. It sported blond hair and had a faint smattering of tan freckles. Unless his cousin had undergone a Michael Jackson transformation, the man currently using him as a body pillow was not Sam.
The sudden tension in his body must have registered, because behind him, Adrien stirred. “Mmmph.”
Instead of rolling away, Adrien rubbed his face slowly against his nape. “Morning,” he rasped into Nicholas' shoulder.
“Good morning,” Nicholas automatically replied. Adrien shifted behind him, bringing their hips closer together and throwing Nicholas' brain into a loop. It's just a morning erection it's just a morning erection it's just a morning erection it's just a—
He tried to unobtrusively untangle his legs from Adrien's long, muscular
legs. When Adrien didn't budge, he cleared his throat. “Mind letting go of me?”
“Mm, right, sorry,” Adrien said sleepily, finally detaching himself from Nicholas' back. He lifted his arm and rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. “Forgot to tell you I cuddle in my sleep,” he said in a half-yawn.
“Right.” Freeing himself from the covers, Nicholas hastily stepped away from the bed. He pulled down his—Adrien’s
—shirt down as much as it’d allow. “Bathroom calls!” He said brightly, before heading to the bathroom post-haste and slamming the door behind him.
After a breakfast of pastries, orange juice and coffee at a cafe downstairs, they walked to the bank, which was one city block away. Nicholas deposited the check in his savings and withdrew a hundred dollars in tens and twenties.
“They accept Visa in New York too, you know,” Adrien commented.
“Haha. I figured hot dog stands only accept cash, even in New York. Oh, and those streetside vendors selling kitschy souvenirs.”
Adrien looked like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. They walked back to the apartment building in companionable silence.
By eight fifteen they were waiting for the taxi at the lobby with their suitcases. Nicholas felt a bit overdressed in his green polo shirt.
“Just so you know, I usually don't dress like a tool.”
“My aunt gave me this shirt.” Nicholas pulled at the front of his shirt. “I only ever wore it around her.”
“The color suits you.”
Nicholas searched Adrien's face for any hint of sarcasm. When he couldn't find any, he continued, “Well, this is the only polo shirt I own. The rest is dress shirts I wear for work. Oh, and my funeral suit.”
Adrien winced. “We’ll be going to my family tailor. I’m sure you won’t have to resort to your suit.”
“Good, because the sleeves don’t even cover my wrist bones anymore,” Nicholas said matter-of-factly.
“Oh good, our ride is here.” Adrien sounded disproportionately relieved by their taxi's arrival.
An hour or so later, they were both seated at the business section, carry-ons stowed overhead. Nicholas peered out the window watching the plane go down the runway for a while. Straightening up in his seat, he noticed that Adrien was staring straight ahead of him.
“You totally weren't kidding about your flying anxieties.”
Adrien loosened his death grip on the arm rests, but his shoulders stayed tense. “Take-off. Not my favorite part of flying.”
“We’ll get there in about five hours, right?” Nicholas just hoped they wouldn’t hit any turbulence on the way.
Adrien nodded curtly, still staring ahead.
“Can't distract you like your ex did, sorry.” He leaned over and gave Adrien's left hand a quick squeeze. “In Soviet China, that service is not available,” he said in a sing-song voice.
Adrien let out a bark of laughter. “What was that?”
“My fake Chinese accent.” He kept his face solemn when Adrien turned to face him.
“That was terrible
“Yeah? I speak a mean Rastafarian dialect though.”
Adrien grinned, shoulders loosening. “I’ll believe it when I hear it.”Nicholas would love to be able to say that he continued being the perfect attentive boyfriend for the rest of the flight.