#gray writes

He pouted. “Why?” 

“Because,” he took his hand away in favor of lacing their fingers, “I won’t sit here while you starve.” 

“Starve?” He teased. “I ate last night, you dork.” 

He flushed. “That doesn’t mean you get to skip breakfast! It’s past noon now.” He stood and pulled Adam with him, who complained.

“Come on.”

Lawrence led him out into the living room and through to the kitchen. Adam sat sleepily at the table while Lawrence pondered on what to make him. 

He had time, so he got out the stuff to make waffles. “Eggs or bacon?” 

“Bacon,” he yawned. “Always bacon.” 

He chuckled. “Got it.”

They chatted as Lawrence cooked, and Adam silently acknowledged it was the best he’d feel all day— at least until Lawrence got home from work that night. 

It was a month after Adam’s rescue. He didn’t remember much of anything, save for how much and what color light was shining or not shining. The last thing he could recall was the pains in his stomach finally numbing— everything numbing. He couldn’t feel or see a thing. Couldn’t keep his head up. Lawrence had almost been too late. 

The next thing he knew he was loading boxes into a trunk and ignoring his mom’s call. He had looked up from his phone, confused, then shocked to find Lawrence. He had almost asked where he was. 

Now he was lucid but no more present. Not at all. 

After eating, Adam sat pressed against Lawrence on the couch with a controller in his hand. Lawrence kept his gaze on his book while Adam ferociously shot zombies on the TV. When Lawrence wasn’t turning the page and Adam wasn’t leaned forward in focus, his hand ran through Adam’s hair, and the thought of later made Adam’s heart sink. 

After work, Lawrence came into the room and frowned. “Have you been sleeping all day?” 

He yawned. “No. Just most of it.” 

Lawrence sighed. He came and sat next to him. “Adam…” 

Adam avoided eye contact. “What?” He asked flatly. 

He hesitated, then shook his head. “Come on.” He stood. “We’re going outside. Some sunlight will do you good.” 

“Aren’t you tired from walking all day?” 

“A little more is nothing I can’t handle.” Holding out a hand, he smiled. “Come now, let’s go.” 

Adam sighed but got dressed in at least more than his boxers and a t-shirt, then followed him outside. The light was far too bright. It was hot, and he felt like he was moving through mud. Lawrence kept a gentle hand on his back but it still felt like too much. 

There was a park just outside their apartment complex. Adam sat on one of the swings and spun in circles while Lawrence read, leaned against a pole. He sometimes told Adam about interesting passages. 

“Lawrence.” Adam looked up. 

Lawrence glanced at him. “Yes, dear?” 

“It’s not just ‘cause of the trap, right?” 

He put his book down. He came over and knelt so Adam didn’t have to stand. “What do you mean, love?” 

“You know.” He shrugged and looked away. “Just, all this. You don’t like, feel bad for me or something, right? I know I’m younger and I didn’t have a lot to fall back on, but I didn’t ask for your help.” 

Lawrence cupped his chin and guided his head so they were facing. “Adam, no,” he said softly. “I wouldn’t have continued contact if I simply felt sorry for you. Yes, I knew you didn’t have a lot to fall back on, and yes, that influenced my decision to move you in.” He stared at Adam a bit too intently, like he wasn’t used to meeting his lover’s eyes. “But not… that. I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t...” 

Adam pursed his lips. He kissed Lawrence softly, who pulled him in close. 

The sun dipped below the cloudy horizon, and they went back inside. Their apartment was small, but cozy and always warm. Adam plopped on the couch. Lawrence came over and stood between him and the television. 

“Why don’t you get your camera?” 

“For what?” Adam grabbed the remote and tried to aim around Lawrence. 

He sighed. “To take pictures? You can’t just laze around all day, Adam.” 

“And why not?” He nudged Lawrence out of the way to turn on the TV. Lawrence snatched the remote, and Adam pouted. “Come on! Why does it matter? It’s not like you make me work.” 

“I’m asking,” he insisted. “It matters to me. You should do something you enjoy.” 

He stared at the screen blankly. Then he said, “Actually, I was thinking about selling my camera.” 

Lawrence blinked. “What? Why?” 

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Well what would you use the money for?”

“I don’t know. Snacks?” 

“Adam…” Lawrence sat next to him. He opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head. “Never mind. Why don’t we make dinner?”

They cooked together, Adam making a big mess and Lawrence pretending to be exasperated by it. They sat on the couch together to eat, something Lawrence wasn’t used to but Adam insisted upon when moving in. When he was finished eating, Adam rested his head on Lawrence’s shoulder. He fell asleep. 

They tried cooking together, but Adam must have added too much baking powder to the lentils because they exploded in the oven. He panicked as he turned it off and tried to figure out how to clean it before Lawrence found out, but when Lawrence came into the kitchen, he laughed so hard he wheezed. They ended up throwing chicken nuggets in the microwave. 

When he next opened his eyes, it was dark. Lawrence had fallen asleep too, Adam laying on top of him curled on the couch. Adam carefully got up and headed for the kitchen. 

The blue light flickered eerily in the hall. It felt like a dream as Adam tip-toed, walls swimming, through the apartment. The city lived on outside. His throat was tight. 

After grabbing a cup, he turned on the faucet. He zoned out as he drank his water, and quickly found his thoughts wandering, his brain closing him off from the outside world. Tunnel vision. His hands found the tiled floor and he tugged at the chain, but nothing happened. He looked around, called for help, but he was alone. He was always alone. 

He stumbled back as the real world fell around him, the glass shattering on the floor. Crooked footsteps scrambled towards the kitchen, and Adam was on the ground, panting. 

Lawrence knelt in front of him and checked him over. “Are you okay? What happened?” 

“I’m okay,” he said breathlessly. “I just… I don’t know.” 

“Was it a flashback?” 

“A flashwhat? No.” 

Lawrence stared at him. 

Adam huffed. “What? What do you want?”

Lawrence took his hand and helped him up. “I want you to be honest with me.”

“I… I am being honest.” 

“No, you’re lying.” He wrapped an arm around Adam’s waist and pulled him in close. “Why don’t you just tell me the truth? What’s the harm?”

Adam didn’t truly know. Maybe he didn’t want people to worry about him. Maybe he didn’t want to feel unmasculine, or worse, weak. Maybe he knew Lawrence would want to help and he just didn’t want to bother. 

“I just…” He sighed. “Yeah, it was… something like that.” 

“Adam, I… I think you need therapy.” 

Adam snorted. 

“I’m not kidding,” Lawrence said. 

Grinning, he said. “That’s even funnier.”

“Will you take this seriously, please?” 

“Absolutely not.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re infuriating. You need to go.” 

Pulling away, Adam started to clean the broken cup and spilled water. “Why? So I can feel worse and have to think about it? Not happening, never, no.” 

Lawrence leaned against the fridge. “Will you please just think about it?” 

He mopped up the water the best he could then grabbed a broom. “I don’t get why you care so much.”

“Is it so hard to believe I love you?” 

Adam froze. Then he swallowed and said simply, “Yes,” as he swept. 

Lawrence came over and grabbed his elbow, pulling him in to kiss him deeply. Adam nearly dropped the broom. Chuckling, Lawrence pressed their foreheads together. 

“Think about it.”

Adam met his eyes, cheeks puffed out. Then he said, “Fine.” He pulled away and grabbed the broom, and pointed it at Lawrence. “But that’s not fair.”

He laughed. They ended up in bed for the night, Lawrence cuddling Adam from behind with his face buried in Adam’s hair. 

Adam spent the next week trying to pretend to be okay. Memories plagued him, the same few time and time again with no rest. He often found himself staring at the ceiling as the nighttime hours ticked away. Lawrence noticed the exhaustion, the bags under his eyes, the attitude, but luckily for Adam, he tried to wait for Adam to come to him. 

They were doing a puzzle that he was pretending to enjoy when his phone rang. He didn’t have any friends, so he could guess who it was. His skin crawled.

“Is that your mother?” Lawrence asked. 

Adam silenced his phone and put it away. “Yeah.” 

“Again?”

“Yeah.” 

“Christ.” Lawrence crossed his arms. “You’d think with the energy she can put into chasing you down she may have been able to actually take care of you.” 

Adam shrugged. “I’m not a kid anymore. It doesn’t matter.” 

He shook his head and took a sip of his tea. “Everything that happens to us in childhood matters. It’s the mark of what your life could look like— In my opinion, it is quite literally everything.” 

Adam tapped his fingers along the table. He found a piece and put it into place, his fifth of the hour. “Well, I’ve moved on.”

They both knew that was bullshit, but instead of hounding him about it, Lawrence asked, “Will you ever answer? What would you say?”

“Honestly? I’d tell her to go to hell.” 

“I don’t blame you.” 

“I wish she’d just leave me alone. She never cared before, why now?” 

Lawrence hummed. “I think in childhood we try too hard to get our parents’ attention. I think that, eh, I think it’s a form of control they have. Then, in adulthood, we strive for independence, so when they try the same thing, it’s just annoying. At best. So it changes from neglect to smothering. It’s a, uh, very jarring thing to go through.” 

“So do you think I should call her back?” 

“Absolutely not.” He met Adam’s eyes. “It’s your choice. But I think it’d be a bad one.” 

“Well, we’re on the same page, then.” 

When they went to bed that night, Adam had a heavy heart. He remembered the days he used to think his mother was a superhero. She had this bravery, this determination he’d never heard of in anyone else. It was still someone he strived to be. But he grew to learn that, whether it was admirable or not, it was a lie. Adam wasn’t one to believe in lies. At least, not after that. 

In the dark of the bedroom, he drifted off to sleep. It became pitch black before bright white clawed through his eyelids. Once again chained, once again broken. He screamed for help. He pulled. He cried. No one could help him. 

He woke up screaming. The next thing he knew Lawrence was holding him close and his throat was raw. He rocked Adam side to side while he cried, gripping onto him. 

Eventually calming, Adam pulled away just enough to clean his face. Lawrence rubbed his back and kissed the top of his head. Sucking in a shuddering breath, he leaned back against Lawrence’s chest. There was a twisting in his gut, heat in his heart. Sensations he could not escape from. 

“So…” Lawrence drawled. “Therapy?” 

“No.” He cleared his throat. “No way.” 

Sighing, he hugged him. “Adam, I really think you would benefit from it. There’s no shame in it— if I were to go, would you think less of me?”

His stomach was in a knot. He kept hearing his mother’s voice, though he couldn’t make out what she was saying, like he was hearing it through water. 

“No. But I… I just can’t. Not me.” 

“Well…” Lawrence hesitated. “I can’t force you. That wouldn’t help anything. So if you aren’t ready, will you at least try some things for me?”

“Like what?” Adam asked wearily. “We sleep with the light on.”

“Stupid but harmless. Go on.”

“And you could try to do, uh, one thing a day. Like take pictures or draw or something.” 

“Also stupid. Somewhat harmful. I don’t know.” 

“And for the love of God, please eat at least twice a day.”

He groaned. “Lawrence.” 

“I’m serious!” He scowled. “You have to take care of yourself.” 

“Why?”

“Why? Because I don’t want to lose you.” 

It was quiet. Adam never knew what to say to things like that. He faced Lawrence to kiss him gently, who pulled Adam fully into his lap and held him close. They sat that way for a moment with Adam’s head on Lawrence’s shoulder. Adam could still hear his heartbeat. It never settled. 

“I’ll think about it,” he finally murmured. 

Lawrence smiled. “Good.” 

They laid there for a little while. Then, eventually, they settled down to try going back to sleep. Adam had a fitful night, but no more nightmares to that severity. In the morning, he and Lawrence made breakfast— he didn’t work today, so Adam had him all to himself. They hung around the house, watching movies and Adam showing Lawrence some more of his favorite Xbox 360 games, then in the evening they went to finish their puzzle. 

“Got it. Got it!” Lawrence grinned as he put the final piece down.

Adam couldn’t help but smile with him. He always thought Lawrence couldn’t get any cuter, but somehow he always proved him wrong. 

“What would you like to do now, love?” He leaned back and his spine cracked over the chair. “It’s your turn to choose.” 

“Hmm…” He stood and headed to the Xbox to look at more of his games, then the power flickered— and went out. 

It was pitch black. Adam scrambled until his back was against the wall. His heart was pounding and his palms were clammy. Fuck, fuck… 

Someone grabbed him by the waist, and he screamed, “Don’t touch me!” 

“Hey, hey!” Lawrence soothed. “Hey, it’s me.” 

The power came back on and Adam looked around wildly. His gaze settled on Lawrence, calming him a little. 

“Okay.” Lawrence held up his hands. “Is that enough? Do you want to go to therapy yet? It’s been weeks of this, Adam.” 

His face hot, he clenched his fists. “Would you give it a rest already?” He snapped. 

“No!” Sighing, Lawrence said, “This is completely unacceptable. You can’t go through your life terrified every waking moment.” 

“I guess you’ve never been to high school before.”

“Cut the bullshit. You. Need. Help.”

“No, you need help!” He growled. “Fuck off with that! I don’t need anyone’s help!”

He stormed out of the apartment with Lawrence calling his name. He sat at the park for a while, wiping away tears and trying to breathe. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He knew Lawrence was right— why couldn’t he accept it?

After a little while of thinking, he came back home. Lawrence was waiting at the kitchen table, and jumped up when the door opened. He came over to Adam and checked him over. 

“Are you alright? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

Adam wanted to cry. Lawrence was far too good for someone like him. 

“I’m not hurt,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t do that! Never do that.” 

“It won’t happen again. I’m sorry, really.”

Adam took his hand. Gordon interlocked their fingers and kissed his knuckles, then pulled him in. 

“I’ll go,” Adam murmured. 

“What?” Lawrence pulled away. “What did you say?”

He swallowed. “I don’t want to yell at you like that. It… didn’t feel good.” 

Lawrence nodded slowly. “I didn’t like it, either.”

“I’ll go, then. I’ll try.” 

Lawrence kissed him. “I’m so proud of you.”

He hid a smile. Sighing and pushing closer, he closed his eyes. 

They went to settle so Adam could calm down. He grabbed his favorite Xbox controller and handed it to Lawrence, who raised an eyebrow. Adam ignored it and started up Left 4 Dead. 

“What are you doing?” Lawrence asked flatly. 

“Okay, now go.” 

“...go?”

A zombie ran up and started beating on the screen. Adam pinched the bridge of his nose as Lawrence’s HP bar went down. 

“Lawrence— you’re gonna die!” 

“What, can it come through the screen?” 

“Okay, give that to me—”

He held it up. “I thought I was playing.” 

“Lawrence!” 

the girlfriend who moves away to canada at 16, promises of forever exchanged amidst the careful kisses they press to each other’s lips.

nico joining her in canada, and for a year, it’s perfect. they’re reunited, and filled with we laugh belief that they may actually make it. they made it when she was in canada, snd he in switzerland, so what can truly part them, if not an ocean?

the nico gets drafted, and still, reality hasn’t hit. “we made it with over 3000 miles between us, 800 is nothing.”

he goes to the show the very next season, headed to new jersey bright eyed and full of hope- hope for a long-lasting relationship, as well as a long-lasting career.

very quickly, nico is swept up in the nhl chaos. the media is more chaotic than ever, swarming through latest number one draft pick, eager to see how he’d perform against the very best.

and somewhere along the way, those 800 miles begin to feel like 3000 again. and suddenly there’s an ocean between them again. and suddenly, it’s like nico isn’t even living in the same stratosphere.

“you haven’t called in weeks nico! i’m lucky to even get a goodnight text. what’s happened to us?”

and nico absorbs the question, searching for answer within himself. “what did happen to us?” he asks himself.

and truthfully, he knew. it was a mixture of things, truly, but there was a primary cause: himself. he brought these problems upon them, and he knew it.

“i’m- “ “nico don’t apologize. i know you. i know how you’re mind works. it’s- it’s not your fault. i just think- i swore we were going to make it. but i think- i think we might’ve been wrong.”

and his heart breaks, but he knows it’s the truth. “‘m sorry,” he croaks out, the breaking of his heart audible, even with some 800 odd miles between them.

“me too,” she sobs back, covering her mouth to try and keep her wails in the confines of her mind, at least until they ended the call.

~

they didn’t end the call. they stayed on the phone all night, exchanging sobs and apologies, two shattered hearts trying to soothe one another.

at the all star break, nico flys back to halifax, needing one last moment together, not accepting anything less than ending their relationship in an embrace.

he knocked on her door, (the door of the apartment she had moved into at the start of school- nico missed that. he missed a lot. it made his heart hurt thinking about just how much he missed), fully expecting to have to sleep outside her door (but he’d do that, he thought. he’d do it for her. it’s the least she deserved), but to his surprise, she opened the door.

upon her door opening, he was greeted with a sight that made his heart ache in so many unexplainable ways.

she was there, perfect as ever. hair was a little ruffled, but she was perfect. it was like nothing had changed, but it reality, everything had.

“nico,” she sighed out, tears rushing to her eyes at the sight of the boy who had occupied her heart for so long now (but not forever, a voice taunted her inside- that was over now.)

in a blink of an eye, he crossed the threshold of her apartment (that smelt like her favorite candle, he noted inside his head. oh how’d he miss that smell), wrapping her in his arms. at the feeling of his familiar arms encasing her, she broke, sobs wracking her body once again.

“i guess forever wasn’t ours,” he croaked out, a sob cutting him off from continuing his sentence.

“i guess-“ she started, a sob interrupting her sentence. “i guess not,” she finished, tears soaking the fabric of nico’s hoodie (not one of his old ones, she noted. she knew those fabrics. this- this was new. she didn’t like that. it was just a symbol of the distance between them, literally and figuratively).

a while later, after the couple had calmed down, they sat huddled together on the couch, arms still embracing one another.

“it was good, right?” she hesitantly questioned, afraid of the answer he’d respond with.

“the best,” the boy replied.

and with that, it was like the string that tied them together snapped. the feeling was gut wrenching, that much was true. but over time, their hearts would heal. they’d move on, and one day, could hopefully look back on their time together and smile.