#ootpara

Mason was a little nervous. Adam hadn't given him too many clues about how this art project was going to go, just that he was going to be around paint and water and that it would be - intimate. Which made him nervous because his crush hadn't faded ​any​ but shoving that down was going to be imperative to making this fun and not at all awkward. In tight swim shorts and a tank top with whatever flip-flops he'd slid into first, Mason made his way down to where Adam had asked to meet him. When he finally saw him the grin was already breaking out over his face and he didn't tamp it down this time.

Adam 's newest idea was one he'd gotten while talking to Blaine the other day about waterguns. It had bloomed in his head like a flower, and the roots had taken hold so tightly that he ​had​ to try it out. He'd gathered his heavier watercolors and some select brushes, and his camera. He was dressed also in his swim shorts, with a white tshirt and flipflops, and when he saw Mason approaching him, he smiled at their matching choices of clothing. He'd found a garden hose outside and made sure that it was on, though he wasn't ready to use the water just yet. "Mason!" he said, waving a dry paintbrush in the air.

Mason burst out laughing at the paintbrush, moving in for a quick, tight hug and hoping he didn't mess anything Adam was working on up in the process. "Adam! I don't know what you have planned, but I dressed to get dirty." He did a little twirl, spinning in place before striking his silliest pose and giving a gaudy wink. Silly was something he had a ​handle​ on and he was going to use it to his advantage while possible. "So what are we doing today? Are we painting trees? Because that was my first thought, a la Alice in Wonderland, but I don't know if that would actually work or not..."

Adam laughed as Mason spun around and stuck a pose. He had always loved how much Mason got into things, and how sill he could be at times. And how open he could be to randomly suggested, secretive art projects. "Good, because you're probably going to get messy, though we're not painting trees. Actually, you're not painting anything. I kind of wanted your canvas," he said, trying to make it seem less suggestive than it felt saying it.

Mason lit up as soon as the words were out of Adam's mouth, nodding along maybe a little too enthusiastically. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought of Adam doing just that a hundred times before, and the idea intrigued him, so if that was the project... well he was all in before the words were fully out there. "Of course! Wait - you did mean painting me, right? Because that's kind of the coolest idea ever and I'd be honored."

Adam could tell that Mason was interested in helping with the project just by the look on his face. "Yes I mean painting you. I mean, just a little, because I don't want to make anything weird for you. I can just work with your arm or something, if you don't want to go any crazier than that," he said, already running through colors in his mind and how he wanted to use them on the other's skin, and which ones might look the best with the other's tone and where he might put said colors as well.

Mason waited a beat for him to keep rambling, having already anticipated what Adam was going to say before he said it. "You can paint me wherever you want, cupcake. As long as no one is going to get mad at you for it then I'd be delighted to let you use whatever skin you needed." That came out ​all​ wrong but Mason completely missed it, too busy stripping off his shirt and letting himself get hyped up at becoming one of the paintings that he'd been fanboying over for months now. This wasn't going to make things weird between them, he was ​determined​ of that."

Adam smiled a little when Mason called him cupcake. He was growing fond of the other's nicknames for him, and he really didn't mind them either. Especially now that he was single for good. Of course, Mason didn't know that and Adam planned to keep it that way for now. "No one is going to get mad at you, I promise," he said, avoiding the topic. He looked down at his paints and the back up to the other. "I'm thinking blues and purples. What do you think?"

Mason leaned back against the wall and tapped his fingers against his swim trunks, needing to keep a beat going somewhere just out of habit now. "Good. That was the only thing that worried me." He could handle Adam having a boyfriend, he could handle Jesse being around, he could handle the thought that any chance between them was gone (he ​had​ to, for the sake of their friendship), but he really couldn't handle getting yelled at by Jesse because of something innocent, something fun. "Purple's my favorite color, heck yes. Think you could add a little bit of pink in there for contrast maybe?"

Adam smiled and looked away. It was hard to keep a secret like this, but being dumped by Jesse- someone who was so in demand, for lack of a better term, was such a shameful event that he wasn't ready to let other people in on that fact yet. "Yeah, I've got some here," he said, putting out a little paint smeared palette and a different brush than the one he had been holding before. Quickly, and seemingly not careful at all, he put the paints next to one another and drug the brush through, both ways, making it so that he could paint with two colors at once- purple and pink. He held up the brush and motioned for Mason to come closer. "If you're ready..."

Mason was far too intrigued by this process. How the heck did something done at the random end up the way that Adam's paintings always did? Trusting the artist, that was something that he could do. "Definitely ready. How do you want me?" The positioning was the slightest bit awkward because he didn't really know how to stand but as soon as Mason was in front of Adam and the brush was inches from his skin he felt himself relaxing, already anticipating the first brush stroke and how it would feel.

Adam didn't answer with words when Mason asked how he wanted him, though he looked up at the other with an almost lack of expression in his eyes. It was his focused face, though he'd never really seen it before. His mind thought about colors and patterns and fluidity and how the paint might flow over warm skin versus cold dry paper. He touched the brush against Mason's upper chest, to the left, above where his heart would be, and pulled the soft bristles across, waving the line just a little an making it look like a flowing ribbon. He repeated the same motion, slightly below, giving it a little dimension.

Mason held his hands to his sides to keep his balance, looking up at Adam's face for a brief moment to see what he looked like working before looking back down at the brush. The first brush against his skin had Mason shivering at the consistency of the paint and arching into the touch. It felt a little like a massage and that thought allowed him to concentrate in on how the colors blended in and how the movements made goosebumps just barely rise on his skin. This was what magic was like, it ​had​ to be.

Adam twisted the brush, switching which color was on top as he carefully pressed the paint onto Mason's skin. He reloaded the brush and drug it across his chest the other way, arcing and swirling and adding in more colors so that Mason started to resemble something that might have been found in a museum rather than a kid in the back yard of a hotel. Greens, blues, and turquoise had been worked in, all on the other's upper chest and shoulders, and Adam's brush just barely traced a little peak up the side of the other's neck. His pupils were dilated as he watched the brush slowly go up almost to Mason's jawline, and then suddenly back down, sharply.

Mason was almost certain Adam could hear the small intakes of breath puffing out of his lips. The texture of the brush continuously making his way over heated skin, cooling it down, it was... it was beyond description, and the only thing that came close was 'intoxicating'. There was no talking in case it broke Adam's flow but Mason clenched his fists to keep from moving, muscles flexing everytime his nails started to curl into his palms. There was ​no​ polite way to ask him not to stop and eventually Mason felt like he was drowning in color in the best, most intense way.

Adam could, in fact, hear Mason's slightly stuttered breathing, but it didn't register in his mind. Not really. He was very focused on the colors and how they worked together, and how the brush curved along with the other's lines and dips and edges. When he was finished, Mason's upper chest and shoulders and the tops of his biceps, as well as the upper part of his back and the lower part of his neck were swirled in a cascading pastel artwork, and Adam stepped back to look, walking in a circle around the other. He looked up and a smile twitched in the corner of his mouth. "You're beautiful," was all he said.

Mason stood perfectly still throughout the entire process, not even craning his neck to watch Adam as he moved even though it was vaguely unnerving to not be able to see him even briefly. His skin felt weirdly cool where the paint touched it despite the overwhelming heat of Santa Fe. "You think so?" Just talking about being his canvas, Mason, don't go getting any ideas. Don't let him notice anything off about how you're acting. Just smile the smile reserved for Adam and - "Can you take a picture of me? I can only see a distorted view of it right now."

Adam blinked at the other, coming back to reality after a second, hearing the words. "Yes!" he exclaimed, suddenly moving to put his brush down, paint splattering his hand. He grabbed for his camera, which was actually probably too nice of a camera for a kid to have, and turned it on, snapping photos of Mason on all sides. Through the lens he hid his breath hitching. Mason really was beautiful, with or without paint, and there was something about the way the color outlined his physique that had Adam's stomach tying itself into a knot. "Here, don't move, cause I'm not done, but look,' he said, holding up the screen for the other to see as he swiped through pictures.

Mason remembered exactly why he'd needed the distance now that Adam was looking at him like he was a work of art, but he didn't want it now. The entire area smelled of paint and grass and sunscreen (or at least that's what his subconscious clung to) and the scent hung in the air between them. "This is insane... You know how I said I was your biggest fan? It's been confirmed." Mason shifted just enough for his feet not to give out on him before tilting his head curiously. "There's more?"

Adam smiled at Mason, standing probably too close for both person space and for the possibility of accidentally touching the paint. "I like that you're my biggest fan. But I'm going to need you to hold completely still for this next part, because yes, there is more," he said, moving the cameraway away and dropping it behind where he had his paints set up- out of the way. He picked up the hose and sprayed it in the opposite direction of Mason, making sure not to get him wet. "I was going to say that this might be cold, but it's not, the water is completely warm." Holding the hose in one hand and cupping the other, he filled his palm with water and reached up, letting it drip down the other. The paint where the water touched, smeared down the other's chest, making colorful drips over his stomach and arms. Adam's eyes were bright.

Mason leaned into the artist, standing just barely far enough apart not to smear what had already been done. This was going to get pathetic quick but he wasn't against taking what he could from Adam. "I'm really, really good at doing what I'm told, don't worry." The water had him curious - wouldn't spraying him with the hose just ruin the artistry? "Not that cool would be a bad thing. Fire of a thousand suns when the clouds disappear." His breath hitched at the strange sensation and his eyes locked on Adam's, and even if he'd wanted to he wouldn't have been able to look away. He just looked so giddy at what he was creating and it infused Mason with the same excitement - not to mention a few other things better left unmentioned.

Adam had caught a little bit of suggestion in Mason's voice as he spoke, and he couldn't help but associate the comment about the heat with the nickname the other had been calling him. He couldn't help but keep his eyes on the ones staring at him, even as his hands moved across Mason's chest and shoulders, dribbling water in drips and little streams. He kept his gaze locked as he moved around to his side, letting the water drip down his arms and his back, and while standing behind the other, he held the smallest amount of water in his hand, and blew on it, watching it pepper the back of Mason's neck with speckles that barely started to fall. When he was through, he dropped the hose and stood staring at the dripping masterpiece he'd created.

Mason felt the rest of the world zoning out, any people walking by or noises that weren't connected to Adam becoming non-existent. There were visible shivers running through him and it was ruining the "completely still" needed for the masterpiece but with the other's gaze hooked on him he was ​ruined​. Especially when there were tiny puffs of air on the most sensitive part of his neck and how had he not known that this was going to happen? Close setting and Adam's ​hands​ and this was so inappropriate to enjoy so much but he just didn't care. Not wanting to break the mood Mason's lips curled into a smile and he carefully pulled Adam in a little more.

Adam could not take his eyes off of the brunet in front of him, especially when he was pulled in closer. Part of him wanted to pull away to take pictures and part of him wanted close the distance a little more, and he found himself inching slowly toward Mason, as if being lured in by an invisible line. To stop himself from getting too close and ruining the paint- he was an artist after all- he reached out a hand, quickly finding Mason's hip and gripping him. His heart was pounding in his chest and he'd all but stopped breathing. "I...." he stumbled over words, "I need to take your picture..."

Mason felt tiny tendrils of fire curl from where Adam's hands were carefully wrapped around his hip all the way up (...and down, admittedly) to his throat, which felt dry and a little rough. It'd be so easy just to lean in right now, to trace the line of sweat running down his jaw or to just... to kiss him, like he had before. "Yeah. Need the finished product or it's..." His mind blanked and he tried to figure out how to talk properly, blinking hard. "Uh, not going to have the right look you wanted?"

Adam stared for just a few moments longer, only a few inches away from Mason's face. He licked his lips and tried to remember how to breathe. Forcing himself to back away, he let go of Mason's hip and grabbed for his camera once again, bringing it up and snapping pictures all around him before setting it back down. He paused, making a conscious decision and picking up the hose he could help Mason get cleaned up, but when he turned around, he was attached again, like static electricity. Stepping lighting up, and knowing that it was going to be washed away anyway, he traced one finger right down the other's spine, smearing the paint all the way to where he found fabric, pausing there for half a second before taking his hand away and staring at the line he'd made.

Mason did his best the stay like a statue as the camera snapped away, throwing in a few smiles here or there just to make sure it was something worth using no matter what aesthetic or mood he wanted. "Did they come out the way you wanted them to?" What the hell was this... this thing between them? It'd been there before but not like this, now it felt like there was some magnetic field between them that made it impossible to be more than a few feet away. "Oooh..." Slipped out before Mason could stop himself, pressing back into the touch for the briefest moment. "Draw on me more. Please?"

Adam didn't hesitate, his wet hands dropping the hose and reaching for the other's back. His thumbs barely touched against the bottom of each shoulder blade, only for a second while each finger pressed down as well, fanning out before lifting off one by one, until only his index finger was left. He traced swirls through the paint, across the top of Mason's shoulder and down his arm a little, back up and around to the front, with Adam slowly trailing behind his own hand. It led the way, feathering across his collarbone and even up his neck the littlest bit, then at a snail's pace, up the side of his jaw, following the line into his hair and pausing, his eyes, snapping up to the other's. He swallowed, again noting that they were merely a couple of inches apart. In fact, his free hand had at some point, touched lightly against Mason's side, and he now squeezed those fingers against him just lightly, in anticipation.

Mason was a wreck. How did humans handle this on a regular basis? The crush had turned into falling hard for Adam somewhere along the way, and the electricity between them could destroy the place. Any thoughts of Jesse, or Oliver, or anyone else either of them was dating or had... anything with faded to the wayside and once again it was the two of them alone in a crowded room. One hand carefully moved between them to get the paint from his chest onto his fingertips and he dragged them along the collar of Adam's shirt and up over his throat, brushing his thumb over Adam's jaw and watching the paint seep into his skin.

Adam closed his eyes as Mason's fingertips touched against his skin, unable to disguise the way his chest rose and fell as he suddenly became art, made by magic hands. There was a certain disregard for anything else that might be going on, though it was unlikely anyone would find them, behind a hotel in the middle of the desert city. His heart beat heavily, like a bass drum, and he could not stop himself from dragging his paint-covered fingertips down the side of Mason's face, back over his neck and hastily down his chest and side, drawing him in closer and not caring if the paint found it's way onto his shirt. Though they weren't pressed together, Adam's hands urged the other to close the distance.

Mason glided his fingertips up to his cheeks, around his neck, and for a brief moment tangled both of his hands in Adam's hair to leave the light strands covered in swears of blended paint. It took only a few seconds for him to realize what Adam was requesting of him and he moved forward until they were pressed together, flush up against each other. For a moment Mason's eyes dropped down to his lips before darting back up to his face, letting one hand go to spread paint over an elegant nose and tracing the top of his cupid's bow carefully, not wanting to get paint in his mouth.

Adam could feel the earth move under his feet. Nothing existed in the world except for him and Mason, and finally, ​finally​ he could feel the other pressed against him and he let the paint trail over his face. He reached his own hands up to press into the paint on Mason's back, smearing it down like bright wings, fire flaring up inside of him. Not wanting to let that feeling get away, he quickly reached up, cupping the other's face and pressing their lips together as purple and blue stained the skin beneath his hands.

Mason braced his hands behind Adam's neck and slipped easily into the kiss, tilting his head to deepen it and feeling fireworks spark behind his eyelids. How had their kisses changed so much? Months ago they had been these innocent, tentative little pecks, just barely lips against lips, keeping that feeling even when it'd gone deeper. Now it was like poppers had been set off in him, begging him to kiss him more just to keep that there, and he was so sure that Adam was feeling it too. "Yesss," was breathed out between them, but it could've just been a whoosh of air for all he knew.

Adam noted how different this was from the times that they had shared kisses in the past. It was heated and urgent and needy, and he couldn't help but slide his hands though Mason's hair, leaving one there and letting the other drift back down to the small of his back, pulling him in tightly. Though it lasted only briefly, Adam could feel himself come alive, and it was a little frightening. He hesitated and pulled back, looking into the other's eyes as he tried to catch his breath.

Mason didn't think there was even a millimeter of space between them right now and still it didn't feel like it was enough. The urge to push Adam back onto the grass and crawl on top of him was so strong he had to consciously work to shove it down. One hand landed on Adam's shoulder when he suddenly felt cool air on his face and his lips felt weirdly empty, looking back with everything he was terrible at hiding, everything he didn't care to hide right now.

Adam 's face mimicked Mason's, and he stood there for a minute, just looking back and trying to figure out what was happening. They were standing there in the middle of a dead-looking yard, covered in pink and blue paint that smeared to purple, and Adam had never felt more at home or in touch with himself. "Mason... I..." he murmured, not really sure what he was trying to convey, but trying to convey something. He didn't move another inch, still touching his hands against the other's skin.

Mason blinked at the emotion passing over Adam's face, wholeheartedly believing everything he'd said about it being mutual over the last few weeks as it clouded his brain. By now he'd completely separated from the rest of reality, from everything that didn't scream 'Adam'. "Yeah? I... You." Mason made a helpless noise as he reached up to tug gently on the artist's hair, pulling him back to brush another kiss over his lips, repeating it again and again as long as he was allowed.

Adam couldn't resist Mason's little words and his sound and the way he pulled him in and he let it happen. He accepted the little kisses, responding gradually with his own, letting them increase with intensity until he parted his own and Mason's lips and plunged into something that there was no coming back from. He was pressed completely against the other, holding him there with his arms and just the slightest pressure, not caring what paint was smeared where or when and suddenly wishing that they were in a room instead of out in the open- an idea which was growing with each passing second. "Come back to my room with me.." he said, into the kiss.

Mason groaned loud enough that someone had to hear them, he was sure of it, but he found himself caring less and less what anyone else thought. Too busy exploring Adam's mouth and body, and hands everywhere, and this tipped so far past innocent that he couldn't stop it if he wanted to. "Yes, I don't know what you need to bring with you but I'm going to need you to hurry, cupcake. Please." Mason knew exactly what he looked like right now but he didn't even bother grabbing his shirt, eyes skirting towards the nearest entrance.

The last few months had been nothing short of exhausting and Mason was tired. He was tired of this war that was constantly raging inside of him, tired of the urges to be reckless and stupid, tired of the hurt that’d clawed it’s way inside of him. Growing up with absentee parents and an overbearing sister he clung to too tightly was like a starter course for growing up and now that he was slowly losing his grip on everything that mattered Mason was just... done.

His parents, his sister, his best friend, his confidence, his heart. He could feel it all slipping away one chunk at a time, chipping away at him. This was his last ditch effort to remind himself of what he did have, of the parts of him that he couldn’t lose if he tried. 

Mason had the doughnuts ready as he knocked on Adam's hotel room door. His friend had seemed down since the night before and he had a pretty good idea why, and an even better idea on how to fix it. "Open up Crawford!" Mason said brightly, hands in his pockets. "I come bearing sugar, now open up so I can feed you and take you minigolfing! I even brought us hats."

Adam had been texting his sister, getting her to send him pictures of their last trip to Spain, when he heard the knock on his door. He got up from his bed and went to the door, a smile forming as he opened it. "I love sweets," he said focusing on Mason. The other had become a very good friend recently. "I'm terrible at things like minigolf. Most sports, actually. But I do like hats. I'm in."

Mason went in for a quick hug on the off chance that Adam wouldn't be too freaked out by the friendly affection, feeling like maybe he needed it right then. "Well that just means I'll need to teach you right?" The cheesy DC baseball cap was flopped over Adam's hair and within the hour he had them on the course, half way through of course, and he was trying desperately not to laugh at how much ineptitude was really there. "Need some help there sunshine?"

Adam had accepted Mason's hug graciously- he always accepted hugs because they felt so good! He didn't even bother to check how terrible the baseball cap made him look and was out the door quickly, dragged across the city and onto a bright green mini golf course. He'd picked the brightest aqua colored ball he could find, which seemed to make it easier to find when he accidentally hit it everywhere except the hole he was aiming for. He let out a sigh. "I told you I'm not so great at this," he said, a little smile on his face as he hit the ball, too hard, and it skated over the hole.

Mason shook his head as he went to fish it out for Adam from the other side of the hole that it'd managed to escape to, trying to give him a reassuring grin that did actually collapse into giggles when he realized just how much the baseball cap had gotten skewed on his head. "First, might wanna fix the cap buttercup. Second... want me to teach you? Or attempt to teach you since you insist you're just generally terrible at anything athletic?"

Adam glanced up and then reached to fix the cap. He wasn't used to wearing something that wasn't a beanie, so the cap was a new thing. "I'm not terrible at ​anything​ athletic. I can dance, you know. Or I'd never have made it into Vocal Adrenaline. They're a bit strict. I'll probably catch hell for eating the doughnut to be honest. But, yes. Help, please. Though, it won't make much difference because I've already racked up so many points that I'll never win."

Mason looked a little sheepish at the mention of the doughnut but he gave an easy shrug. "No you won't. It'll be our little secret and what they don't know can't hurt them, right?" With a quick motion he scratched out the prior 9 holes and held the paper up. "Fresh start! So now you might actually have a shot. You have to promise to show me you dancing though, like... just you, if I teach you. Is that a suitable enough deal?"

Adam smiled because he knew he wasn't telling anyone and their shared doughnut experience was a secret. "Exactly. I'm not about to tell on myself!" he replied with a laugh. He laughed more when Mason held up the scratched out paper. "Are you kidding, I don't have a shot. But if you teach me mini golf, I'll totally dance for you, as long as you don't steal my moves for New Directions. Deal."

Mason poked at his side as he finally made his way back over, waving the ball triumphantly in his other hand. "See! So really, we can do whatever we want and it'll be fun and just ours," he said finitely. "You can pretend you have a shot? And I would never be a cheater cheater pumpkin eater, that's terrible! I just wanna see your sweet moves." Mason moved behind Adam and let the ball drop back to the starting point, sealing himself carefully to his back as he covered Adam's hands with his own and positioned them correctly.

Adam smiled brightly at Mason's rhyme, wondering if the creativity was because of their hanging out together. He watched his ball fall onto the green astroturf and let Mason come up behind him to show him how to stand and hold the club. "Who invented this game anyway?" he asked, suddenly very aware that he was sharing the tiniest amount of space with another person and blushing a little.

Mason grinned back, one hand steadying himself on Adam's waist before it joined the other hand over the club, moving just a little in hopes that Adam would mimic his pose. "John Carter in the 1880's but it was way more basic and a lot less fun. He called it Tom Thumb golf." Why was he rambling? Oh yeah. Cute boy directly in front of him and it was possible he stuttered over his words a little when realization hit. "Try swinging now?"

Adam was very aware of Mason's hand resting on his waist as he spoke and directed him on how to stand. He let himself be guided and watched the club they held in their hands. "John Carter is an ass," he replied, swinging back and then front to hit the ball, which skated smoothly over the little hill in the green and went straight down, plopping into the hole. "Oh my god! can you stand like this with me every time I make a shot?" he asked, mostly because he'd made it in, and a little tiny bit because he liked being close to the other.

Mason took a deep breath to settle himself, feeling both really shy and really ramble-y all at once and oh gosh, was he going to embarrass himself if he didn't get a grip? Probably. "I think he actually was? But it's okay because it means we got to play." Mason wriggled happily when the ball got a straight hole in one, hugging Adam hard as soon as they'd untangled themselves. "Of course I can! And since this means you're totally winning I expect you to buy me icecream after!"

Adam blushed through the little hug and smiled to try and cover up the blush. "I'm only winning for the moment. You haven't gone yet. But I will still buy you ice cream afterwards," he replied, poking at Mason's side a little as he turned and went to retrieve his ball. "Soft ice cream, even. Special treat for, you know, the special occasion of learning how to mini golf." He was babbling as much as Mason and he wasn't exactly sure where it was coming from.

Mason nudged his hip as he got into place. "You'd do that? Because I would so take that, and load it up with toppings and go absolutely nuts." And there was this little bit of hair slipping out of Adam's baseball cap and he kinda wanted to reach out and touch it and fuck, he was so distracted that when he swung the ball actually went out of bounds and he had to wait sheepishly for them to bring him another one. "Uh... I might earn that icecream?"

Adam couldn't help but giggle, bringing his free hand up to his face as he did so. He didn't know why Mason had missed his shot and gone so far out of bounds, but it was kind of funny that he had. "Do you need me to help you?" he asked, jokingly stepping up behind the other like the other had him and helping guide him for a second. "Hold your arms like this," he said, his voice full of playfulness.

Mason was sure he was beaming so wide his face had turned into actual sunshine, leaning back against Adam and letting him take control of his hands. "Yes! I always need help from strapping British lads with pretty voices." Oh crap. He hadn't said that out loud had he? He totally had oh god. Instead of panicking he followed his instructions, sure he was vibrating from just how close they were.

Adam chuckled a little, but blushed so hard that he could feel the flush run up his chest and neck and suddenly he was very warm. "I really... don't think that the accent is that attractive," he said, for some reason staying right there, regardless of the fact that he really had no idea how to golf, let alone instruct someone to golf. He inhaled, wanting to say something to discredit the rest of what was said, but he caught Mason's scent instead and suddenly he was positive that he was going to say something stupid. "Erm.. you uh, remember to keep your elbows straight," he said, backing back away. "What am I saying, you don't need my help..." he added with a nervous laugh.

Mason blinked in the bright sun and focused on his voice, giving him a blank look when he tried to deny it. "Your voice actually makes me swoon, Adam, that's how attractive it is." Rambling was really going to get him in trouble but at this point he couldn't think enough to offset that. "Of course I need your help. Obviously my superior golfing skills have gone down the drain," Mason said in a faux sad voice, letting his head hang a little and his lower lip go full quiver in a way that always worked on Madison.

Adam could not help the blush that deepened enough that he had to look down to try and hide it. "I don't.. " he paused. He didn't know what to say in return. This felt like something off of a television show. "Well, what...erm, what do you need my help with? You're practically a professional," he said, shaking his head. Mason's confession had made him nervous. More nervous than he'd ever really been. "It was just a fluke." He nodded, standing probably too close for the other's comfort.

Mason shifted so he could get a little closer, sure he was being obvious in how much he wanted to be close to the other boy. He just hoped Adam wasn't too weirded out by it because at the moment it made him more jittery to move away. "Just position my wrists the way I positioned yours, help me fix my stance, and voila! Swing and hole in one. Maybe. If not, it's okay. I still got a super cute teacher and a ball my favorite shade of purple and we still have eight more holes left!"

Adam bit the inside of his lip and nodded, going back and stretching his arms around Mason the way the other had done for him. He was positive that Mason didn't need the help and that he just wanted him to be closer, but Adam didn't care. "So, stand up a little straighter then," he said, his voice nervously soft as one hand rested over Mason's and the other rested on his arm. "Okay, go ahead and swing."

Mason straightened his spine, closing his eyes and focusing on the smooth voice and the slight vibration of it he could feel from how close they were now. "Like this?" His mouth had gone dry and suddenly Mason had no clue what he was doing, but he wasn't one to back down from anything either. With one quick swing he got it - well not quite in the hole, but it bounced enough to fall in anyway and he cheered, face breaking out into a ​massive​ grin. "We did it!"

Adam smiled as the ball went where it was supposed to and as it fell into the hole, he turned around, still facing Mason and giggled, leaning in and planting a little kiss on the other's lips. The second he realized what he'd done, he turned beet red and stepped back. Oh god, why had he done that? Now everything would be awkward. He looked at his hands and the astroturf and his club, trying to look busy for a moment to get himself out of what he'd done.

Mason had turned from a pleasant shade of pink to positively sunburned and he touched his lips in awe, a little in shock that he'd just gotten his first kiss. From Adam. He'd just gotten his first kiss from a positively gorgeous boy with an accent to die for and lips that had ​touched his​ and why was he moving away?? Without thinking twice he stepped back into Adam's space and leaned in to kiss him gently, a little more of a "hi there" and a little less of a "frick I need to go".

Adam was a little surprised as Mason kissed him back, but not in a bad way. In fact, he was positively thrilled. He smiled against the other's lips and let his hand move to rest gently on his waist. He'd kissed before, sure, but that didn't make him any less nervous about ​this​ kiss. His last one was so long ago, and this one was right now. He let himself move into it, parting his lips and giving him a real kiss, his hand slipping up to just barely card through Mason's hairline.

Mason wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with his hands or his body so he let himself crowd against Adam and rest a hand against the dip in his back over his shirt, soft little noises spilling out of his lips. He'd had no clue that kissing would be anything like this. There were butterflies taking over his throat and stomach and it felt like there was a wave of heat everywhere their mouths touched. Following Adam's lead was easy and he let him control the kiss.

Adam tilted his head to the side and kept it going, ignoring the fact that they were in the middle of a golf course and there were probably people watching or being interrupted or something. Though, he knew he couldn't keep Mason's face busy for too much longer without apologizing for it. He eventually pulled back a little, a blush spreading across his face and making his blond hair look out of place. "Well, erm, congratulations... on that shot..."

Mason had a grin stretched from ear to ear and gosh, he must look so silly when he couldn't stop touching his lips for anything. "If that's the sort of congrats you usually give I'm going to get a perfect score on every hole left on the course." The words slipped out while he was still dazed and he immediately slapped his hands over his mouth in shock. "Oh gosh I'm sorry! I ddn't mean to assume you would, or that you'd want to, or anything! I'm. Uhm. Yeah."

Adam giggled at Mason's display of stuttering and shook his head. "That... is adorable," he said, clutching his club in both hands and looking up rather innocently. "I'm sorry... in general. For, you know... I mean, I didn't want to assume that you were... interested. But if you are, you know, and we can manage to keep scoring like we have been, then we'll see how things go," he rambled, nervously looking down and back up again and again.

Mason leaned forward just enough to press an innocent kiss over Adam's cheek, keeping it as light as the original kiss on the lips had been. "Please don't apologize, buttercup. Though for the record? Generally - okay I've never kissed anyone before today but if I HAD - I don't kiss back if I'm not interested. So uhm. Yes. Interested. And also ready to win more games! Because kisses, maybe? Or at least lots of icecream."

Adam raised his eyebrows at the mention of being Mason's first kiss. He thought back about it, wondering if it had been everything he'd been hoping for in a first kiss. "Buttercup?" he questioned, smirking and holding in a little laugh. "Like the princess in that movie," he added, no hint of offense or insult in his voice. "Well, I am blond." He cleared his throat. "So, you want to lead the way, I'll gladly follow. But you'll have to help with with my swing."