#spovic

Sean was sitting a tad precariously to Adam’s windowsill, one hand holding the side and his feet swinging gently in the air. It was only the first floor so he wasn’t in any danger, but it still felt high. He kind of liked how it felt, like he could pretend that there was a lot more than a few inches between his feet and the ground. Despite the late hour he looked bright eyed and wide awake, smiling widely at his boyfriend.

“Spoole, what the fuck?”

Adam on the other hand looked beyond confused, standing in front of his window with eyes still half lidded with sleep. He wasn’t wearing anything but his boxers and a ratty shirt (really Adam? That must have at least twenty holes in it), his hair was mussed to hell, and he didn’t sound too pleased to be awake.

Honestly, he looked a mess. Sean thought he looked beautiful.

“Ice cream! It’s supposed to be an adventure!”

“Okay, but who crawls through someone’s window at 4am to go get ice cream?” As grumpy as he looked, Adam’s voice was still soft and fond. Which was kind of relieving, because Spoole had been starting to second guess himself pretty much as soon as he’d started knocking on Adam’s window. He had a key, but this was more fun!

Sean tilted his head at Adam questioningly, then shrugged. He hadn’t put much thought into it really. He’d just sort of done it spur of the moment when he couldn’t sleep. “Someone who loves their boyfriend and wanted to surprise him?”

Adam rubbed a hand over his face and sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. “Alright, alright, let me put some clothes on.. And get in here, you’re going to fall, jeez.”

Spoole beamed at him, immediately half climbing and half falling into the room in his rush to follow directions. Oh look, there was Adam’s smile! It just took him getting hurt apparently, rude. “Love you! And I promise not to wake you up at four am again.”

“Uh huh, love you too. And I don’t trust that promise.”

Sean wants his glasses. Adam’s alarm just went off, and it’s still dark outside but Sean wants his glasses. Oh, but he doesn’t have his glasses. Left them out in the kitchen like a damn fool. He doesn’t need glasses to see Adam get up and out of bed way too early, though.

“Stay,” Sean groans. He’s tired. Not just because it’s six in the morning. No, he’s tired of having to go back to sleep in an empty bed and wake back up alone to his own alarm and get ready for work alone and eat breakfast alone and drive to work in his own car. His eyes are bleary and all he can see is Adam’s silhouette. “Adam, stay.” Adam chuckles softly, groggily, and Sean hates it because Adam’s not taking him seriously.

“Go back to sleep, baby,” Adam whispers fondly and heads for the closet. “James is gonna be here soon.”

“I know,” Sean replies, just above a whisper, as he sits up in bed. “Tell him to go without you.” Adam laughs again, and Sean furrows his brow. “Please? I want to spend time with you.”

“Spend time sleeping? That’s what nighttime is for,” Adam’s voice is steadily getting louder as they both adjust to being awake. He pulls off his t-shirt in exchange for…another t-shirt. But a t-shirt he saves specifically for working out. Sean whines from the bed, trying to get Adam to look at him, but Adam’s too busy stuffing day clothes into his gym bag. “What?”

“I miss cooking you breakfast,” Sean admits weakly. “I know I still do it on the weekends, but…”

“Sean, can we talk about this later, please? I have to brush my teeth and take a piss,” Adam requests, but Sean rubs his eyes and is ready for the full conversation. Adam knows this, knows he’s not going to be let off the hook. If it were fully coherent and alert Sean, maybe. But tired, morning Sean is honest and moody.

“James is perfectly capable of working out by himself for one morning,” Sean reasons. Adam doesn’t like his tone, and looks over at his boyfriend to say something equally snarky, but he’s met with an expression on Sean’s face that looks almost like sadness. It hurts Adam, but Sean’s words got on his nerves in a way that allow him to get over it. He looks away, then takes a few steps to the door so he can take care of business in the bathroom. But something stops him, a nagging thought.

“Wait a minute. Are you…jealous?” Adam asks, and the bedside lamp is immediately turned on by Sean. “You didn’t have a problem with me going to the gym without you until I started going with James.” Sean folds his arms across his plain white t-shirt and shrugs, face heating up.

“No,” he answers flatly, but Adam doesn’t believe it. “That would be dumb.”

“That would be dumb,” Adam agrees, and retreats back to the bed to sit at the end by Sean’s feet. Sean brings his legs in to sit cross-legged, making Adam roll his eyes. “Will you tell me what your problem is?”

“I miss you,” Sean answers sincerely, but won’t look Adam in the eye. He runs a hand through his hair and stares at the curtains blocking the rising sunlight from fully entering the room. “You’re spending all your time with James, and when you come home, we eat dinner together but then you’re too tired to do anything else because you were working out with James all morning.”

“Why do you have to say his name like that? You sound like a bratty three-year-old,” Adam scoffs. Sean wants to go off, wants to yell in retaliation because of how much that comment gets under his skin, but it’s too early and Adam doesn’t deserve it. “You sure you’re not a little jealous? Of James?”

“For spending time with you? Yeah, I’m jealous of him.”

“But not because you think he’s going to steal me?”

“I don’t think he’s going to steal you, I think you’re going to go to him. Willingly,” Sean shrugs, and he’s angry at the words that come out of his mouth, because they’re vulnerable and dumb and Adam’s going to yell at him about trust, even though Sean spent the first two months of their relationship assuring Adam time and time again that he wasn’t going anywhere.

But Adam doesn’t yell, doesn’t puff his chest and go to raise his voice. He just looks at Sean with the most confused expression, and lets his mouth hang open a little. Sean finds a thread on the comforter to pick at in his lap, anything to even slightly remove himself from this situation.

“Why would I ever leave you?” Adam whispers brokenly. Sean lets out a shaky breath of relief when the soft words meet his ears. He was prepared to be shouted at, then spend the rest of his morning crying into his pillow. “Sean, look at me.” Sean does, with tears in his eyes that he didn’t give permission to be there. Adam doesn’t ask again, just upturns his hand in questioning. 

“James is…James, and you like spending time with him. More than you like hanging out with me,” Sean shrugs and diverts his gaze once more, focusing back on that thread on the blanket. “And I just miss you, Adam. I don’t want to lose you.” He sniffles softly and Adam feels every single inch of his body ache. Sean gives a bitter laugh and shakes his head. “I’m being dumb.”

“So dumb,” Adam agrees once more. “You’re such an idiot and I love you so much.” He moves to crawl up to Sean and settle in front of him, mirroring his cross-legged position. His feet are cold and he wants to put some damn socks on, but he needs to settle things with Sean, first. “You’re not going to lose me to James. Okay?” Adam cups Sean’s face in both hands and forces him to look at him, then puts his hands down on Sean’s knees. “James is just helping me get my act together. I’ve put on a few pounds recently.”

“I didn’t notice.”

“I did,” Adam shrugs. “But I like hanging out with you more than anyone else. That’s why I’m with you. That’s why I live with you. That’s why I get so fucking scared when you say things like this. I love you, okay? So much. Too much.” Adam leans forward and presses a kiss to Sean’s nose. “And I wish I had known sooner, that this was hurting you.”

“I didn’t want to be an inconvenience,” Sean whispers, and Adam squeezes his knees. “Didn’t want to hold you back or tie you down or anything.”

“Your feelings aren’t an inconvenience,” Adam states, and gives a few seconds for both of their minds to process the whole situation. “And everything you say is valid and true and I miss you too, Sean. I miss breakfast in bed and staying up late with you and going out with you. Jesus, I’ve been shitty, haven’t I?”

“Don’t say that,” Sean murmurs. He hates when Adam gets hard on himself, and he especially hates being the one to make him do it.

“No, I’ve been shitty. And I’m so sorry, Sean. I don’t ever want to make you feel this way, but I have, and I’m sorry,” Adam apologizes, and Sean is surprised. Usually their arguments end in a stalemate, and they get over it the next day when they realize they’re both idiots. But those are smaller, petty things. This is…big. And Sean is glad, despite his surprise. It might just be the early morning sleepiness talking, but Adam’s being genuine and apologetic and Sean wants to cry. He pulls Adam in for a quick, dry kiss. “We’re gonna spend more time together, alright? I’ll cut back my days with James, start going at lunch or after work a few times a week.”

“Adam, I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t-”

“Sean, I love you. Please let me spend time with you,” Adam requests simply, and it has Sean giggling because he’s obviously not going to decline. “I can’t let you forget how much you mean to me.” They hear the engine of a car, James’ car, and Adam closes his eyes tightly, then opens them, exhaling through his nose.

“You gotta go,” Sean smiles, and it’s a sad smile, but his eyes are hopeful. “Go brush your teeth and try not to be gross.” Adam rolls his eyes and leans in for more kisses, neither of them caring about the dual morning breath. Adam brings his hands to Sean’s face again.

“Hey-”

“I love you,” Sean says for the both of them. It puts a smile back on Adam’s face.

-

The next morning, Sean wakes up to the smell of eggs from the kitchen. He grins into his pillow before his eyes shoot wide open, because he realizes that that means Adam’s cooking breakfast, and Adam’s going to burn the house down or get the eggs stuck to the pan, and Sean doesn’t quite know which is worse. He throws the covers off of himself and pads out to the main room of the apartment to check on things.

Adam had told Sean all about his new schedule on the ride home from work the night before. James gets him on Mondays and Fridays before work, Bruce gets him on Wednesdays after, and he’ll go with Sean or by himself the other two days at lunch. Sean was driving, but couldn’t stop glancing over and smiling like an idiot all the way home.

“Morning, baby,” Adam greets, flashing a winning smile as he cooks in a t-shirt and boxer briefs. It’s a good look, Sean has to admit. “You want orange or apple juice? Everything’s almost ready.”

“You said we’d make omelettes together,” Sean pouts, but shuffles behind Adam and presses his face between his shoulder blades, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“That’s not an answer. Orange or apple? I know the answer’s orange, but tell me anyway.”

“Orange,” Sean gives in, voice slightly muffled by Adam’s shirt. 

“Can you finish up the eggs while I pour? I’ve got the table set already,” Adam asks, and Sean feels butterflies creep into his stomach.

It reminds them both of their early days together, back when they were inseparable and falling so damn hard. The feelings come back as they stare at each other over ham and eggs. Sean hasn’t seen Adam’s face in Tuesday morning light in a long time, and he wouldn’t trade the image for anything else in the world. Adam holds Sean’s right hand in his left while they talk and eat, smiling at the way he and his little southpaw are so unspeakably perfect for each other, even if Adam’s oblivious and Sean doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings unless it’s six in the morning and Adam has places to be.

They cap their morning with a quickie on the couch, which turns into another quickie in the shower, which turns into a lazy makeout session against the door, backpacks on, before Adam checks his phone and realizes they have ten minutes to make a twenty minute commute. He drives because Sean doesn’t like to go above the speed limit, which gives Sean the chance to stare at Adam as his hands grip the steering wheel and his sunglasses rest on his nose.

A small knock pulls Spoole’s attention to his window. It’s late, there’s crickets chirping in the grass outside, cicadas buzzing in the trees, and the gentle hum of noise pollution coming in from the city. Spoole pulls himself from bed, wrestling himself into a baggy t-shirt on the back of his desk chair and pulling back his curtains and jumps at the figure standing on the other side of the glass. “Adam!” he hisses, unlocking the window and pushing it up quickly. “It’s almost two AM what are you doing here!”

He can’t see Adam’s face, the light too dim outside from the broken street lamp, and the flickering Christmas lights he has strung up on the walls aren’t bright enough. But he hears the choked cough that rattles in his chest, and the way he’s breathing heavy like he just ran blocks, and it makes him step back so Adam can pull himself through the window. Spoole moves to his door, latching it and stuffing the towel on the floor under, before flipping on his light, and- 

Shit, Adam looks terrible.

There’s a nasty scrape all on his cheek, blood leaking from his nose and his lip busted. He’s clutching his ribs through his hoodie, knuckles bruised and bloody, and Spoole has a million questions, but Adam’s answering before he opens his mouth. “They wouldn’t shut up about you.”

Spoole doesn’t know what to say. He pulls his desk chair out, and Adam sits. This isn’t the first time this has happened. He kneels next to his bed, pulls out a first aid kit, and moves to set it on his desk, opening it and pulling out the antiseptic and a cotton ball. He soaks it and starts dabbing it on his cheek, trying to ignore the way Adam flinches away at first, before settling on what he wants to say. “Adam-”

“I’m not going to stand around while they insult my boyfriend, Spoole,” he says. He’s not angry. There’s a hint of venom in his voice, but Spoole knows it’s not for him. “Because you are my boyfriend, and they’re just ignorant assholes who can’t keep their fucking mouths shut.”

He pulls a bandage from the medkit, positioning it over his cheek, before finding the tape and gently tapping it down. “You don’t have to,” he tells him softly. “I-I can handle it. You know I can.”

“But you shouldn’t have to. Just-” Adam stops and tenses like he wants to look away, but knows he can’t. “Who… cares what you were born as. What matters is what you say you are, and if you say you’re a boy, you’re a boy, and that should be the end of it.”

Spoole goes quiet again, sets the tape in the first aid kit, pulling out a few tissues to dab at Adam’s nose. “Their opinions don’t matter to me, Adam,” he tells him. “I don’t care what they say I am.”

Adam reaches up, resting his hand on Spoole’s wrist and pulling his hand away, looking up at him. The lighting is terrible, and Spoole needs to replace the bulb in his broken ceiling fan, but Adam’s eyes are glowing anyway. He stares at him for a moment, before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to Spoole’s lips, cautious of the cut on his own. “I do, Sean. Because you mean the world to me and more, and… I hate hearing people talk about you like that. They don’t even know how wonderful you are.”

His cheeks go pink. He glances away, dropping the tissue into the trash can and closing the first aid kit, fidgeting for a moment. “S-Stay the night, okay?” He asks softly. “Just… Just so I know you’re safe.”

Adam carefully strips off his hoodie and out of his jeans, crawling into Spoole’s bed in his boxers and a shirt, while Spoole shuts his window and turns off his light, locking his door and moving the towel. When he finally gets into bed with Adam, warm arms wrap around him, holding him close and grounding him. He knows this won’t be the last time Adam gets into a fight with him, and he knows Adam would burn this city to the ground to keep him safe, and it worries him, knowing the trouble Adam could get himself into. But right now, he focuses on the way Adam’s chest feels against his, how his fingers run along his back, how his lips press against his hair. Because right now, he’s alive, and he’s safe, and Spoole’s alive and safe with him, and really, that’s all he could ask for.

Heists are hard.

Its taken years for Adam to perfect the art of being a crime boss, one he knows he’ll never do as well as Ramsey, and all it does is wear him out. Sure, it brings in the money, and nothing really makes him feel better than seeing his best friends in the whole world cheering and celebrating with expensive liquor on fancy couches after they’ve done something right. But there’s a deep set ache in his bones, from too many hours spent hunched over a desk covered in plans, an exhaustion behind his eyes from all the sleepless nights, and an itch in his skin from all the things he could change, right now, about everything, even though it’s all fine. Adam Kovic doesn’t know true rest anymore, and it makes him feel like a frantic college kid, always one bad job away from collapsing.

It’s after a heist, one that goes extremely well, when Adam’s trying to make himself part of the celebrations, despite the fact he was practically dead on his feet, that Spoole sets his foot down. Adam had been watching his boyfriend since they all met up that morning, had noticed his worried glances and furrowed brow at every yawn and pained groan. And, it seems, Adam finally tipped the scales, and Spoole had decided that enough was enough. He leaves supervision in Omar and Matt’s hands, before pushing Adam off toward their bedroom, ignoring his grumbled complaints.

“You’ve looked like a zombie for weeks, Adam, you’re taking an actual break,” Spoole tells him once they stop in the bathroom.

“Alcohol is a break,” Adam answers.

He gets a frown in return, before Spoole fiddles with the bathtub and starts filling it. “Alcohol isn’t a break. You get riled up when your drunk and you need to rest.” Adam scoffs. His patience is a little fired, and his eyelids are heavy, and he feels almost like a little kid. Spoole turns to him, poking his chest with a hardly felt jab. “Clothes, off. We’re taking a bath.”

Adam’s seen Spoole naked, oh has he seen him naked. Getting undressed in front of the smaller man isn’t an issue. But suddenly he feels almost vulnerable at the idea. He blames it on the exhaustion, the lack of sleep, the six cups of coffee he had this morning after the all nighter he pulled. But he doesn’t argue, pulling off his shirt that still smells like gunpowder and then slipping off his jeans.

Spoole’s undressed by the time the bathtub’s filled. Adam settles in first, thanks all the gods he can name off that he got a big bathtub with his apartment, then sighs once Spoole sits between his legs, leaning back against him. He takes it back whatever sleepy complaints he had with this before, because he feels the ache slide off his body immediately. He slides his arms around Spoole and holds him close, feeling his laughter through his back. “Someone’s content.”

“Why don’t we do this more often,” he murmurs softly, pressing his face into his hair and slipping his eyes closed. He could fall asleep like this, he really could, and he doesn’t think Spoole would complain if he did.

He feels Spoole trace over the tattoo on his arm with gentle, exploring fingers. “Because you’re a giant baby.”

“I resent that.”

“I’m sure you do, Adam.”

They go quiet. The noise from the living room comes in waves, and Adam can hear Joel’s boisterous laughter mixed with Bruce’s yelling. He still feels Spoole’s touch against his skin, feels the way he breathes when he leans back against him, and it feels so calm, so pleasant. It feels like home.

Adam lets out a quiet breath, pressing his lips against Spoole’s shoulder. “I love you.”

He steels himself for human interaction and walks over carefully balancing his coffee and the imaginary conversation he’s about to have with this stranger (Hello, this place is busy and you have an empty chair, can I? Yeah that’s good). Adam reaches the table and clears his throat, says, “Uh, hey, so…” 

The man looks up with wide, surprised eyes and Adam is struck by the gentleness they hold. Adam makes a soft noise, finishes with, “Can I sit here? This place is packed.”

The man flails as he sits up straight, says, “Yeah! Yeah, sit here, I’m not using it!”

Adam sits, huffs a breath, “Thanks. I’ve never seen the place so full.”

The man says, “Oh I wouldn’t know. I just moved here and I thought this place seemed cool, plus free wifi!”

Adam chuckles, “So the way to win you over is free wifi?”

The man makes a noise that sounds like a scoff and a whine at the same time, says, “Uh, yeah!”

Adam smiles, holds out his hand. “Adam. If you need someone to show you around, I’m more than happy to help.”

The man returns his smile, small and nervous, before extending his hand and shaking Adam’s. “Sean, call me Spoole. I think, uh. I think that would be fun?”