i'm going to hell
So, I wanted to convince lunatics_word to finish writing her fics and she said she would post her WIPs and I was like "yes, do this, and then finish writing them, yes, yes" and then I promised I would post mine. So, it's all her fault. Please ignore this post if you value your mental health or something.
Warnings: there is slash. And RPS. I'm going to hell. Avert your eyes if this is not your cup of tea.
Fandom: Generation Kill
Pairing: Brad/Nate
Summary: Nate’s sister thinks he should socialize more. Nate follows her advice and gets himself into deep merde.
This, Nate thinks, is exactly the reason why he should have never listened to his sister in the first place. He should have just stayed at home to study like he intended to do all along.
It could have been worse, though. He just has to survive one night and really, what are the odds of his sister finding him in the middle of a drunken crowd at the party?
“Nate! Here you are! Come on, you can’t hide here all the time” Kate sounds too chipper for his own taste and on second thought, finding shelter in the kitchen maybe wasn’t the best strategic plan ever. “And stop sulking, I told you it’s going to be fun. Let’s go, I’ll introduce you to everybody else.”
He lets himself be dragged to the sitting room, all the while thinking he’s pretty much fucked up.
---
It all began two weeks ago, when Mike insisted he should get his head out of the books, “because they’re not going to destroy all those fucking paintings if you take an hour break”. Nate reluctantly agreed, because Mike was probably right and, well, he never liked Lorenzetti too much.
They ended up in a bar just across the street. It was crowded - more than Nate expected, because it was Thursday night after all, so most of the people present were probably going to work the next day and as far as Nate could tell, working with a nasty hangover wasn’t the most pleasant solution.
There were two free seats at the bar, between a girl in a short denim skirt - she winked at them when they made their way towards her - and a guy. He was sitting in a dark corner, so Nate couldn’t see his face properly.
They ordered their drinks - tequila for Mike and a beer for Nate, because he was going to be still more or less sober when they went back.
Afterwards Nate was forced to admit that the evening really was quite pleasant, despite his earlier protests. Halfway through his second beer Mike abandoned him to go somewhere and do something, but never came back, the motherfucker, which gave the girl at their right the perfect opportunity to take Mike’s vacant chair and attempt to make small talk. Nate would have been flattered, really, if she just made an effort to be less obvious about attempting to get into his pants. Some people really lacked subtlety.
However, she lost her interest after Nate admitted he studied art history and added he found Uccello’s impact on the perspective fascinating for a good measure. He was pretty sure the guy sitting at his left snorted with amusement. She excused herself pretty soon after that.
“I must admit, that was quite entertaining to watch. Art history, really?” he heard the guy ask.
Nate shrugged.
“She didn’t seem to appreciate it.”
The guy moved a bit closer and Nate was able to observe him better now. He certainly was tall and muscular, but his eyes were what drew the attention in the first place - Nate was fully prepared to go with the cliché and compare them to frozen ponds of water or something. Only in his head, of course, because he haven’t had that much to drink yet.
“Do you always talk about Uccello when you meet new people?” The look the guy sent him was challenging and Nate responded with a wry smile.
“No. When it’s somebody I like, I mention Caspar David Friedrich.”
The guy laughed then and Nate relaxed back in his seat.
They talked some more until it got really late (JESUSFUCK CHANGE THIS SENTENCE) and Nate had to go back home, because it was Friday tomorrow after all and he had to get up early to make it in time for classes.
When the fresh air hit him outside he realized he didn’t even get the guy’s name, not to mention his phone number or anything. So that probably meant he was never going to meet him again - and while talking to him was really nice and entertaining, it wasn’t the end of the world and it didn’t bother him too much.
That is, not until he saw him again, making out with his own sister at the party.
---
“Hey, everyone, this is Nate, my brother” Kate says, pushing him in front of herself. “Nate, this is Walt - it’s his house.” Walt shakes his hand and Nate offers him a small smile. “And that guy near the window is Ray - don’t mind him, he’s always like that and I’m really sorry for whatever he says.”
“Ow, Kate! You wound me!” Ray interrupts, coming closer. “Nate, don’t listen to her. I'm awesome, right, Walt?”
“Ray, you think that only because your pea sized poor excuse for a brain makes you delusional,” a voice interrupts them.
“And this is Brad,” Kate informs him, smiling. “My boyfriend.”
Fuck. Oh, fuck.
“We’ve met before,” says Brad, and it’s not a question.
“Yeah. Yeah, we did,” Nate confirms. Kate looks at him questioningly.
“Really? When?”
“A couple of weeks ago,” Brad answers, still looking at Nate. Nate can feel his cheeks getting suspiciously hot and oh fuck, this is getting worse with every minute. He clears his throat.
“Yeah. In a bar near my place. I… I didn’t know he was your boyfriend.” He doesn’t mean to sound accusing, because none of this is his sister’s fault, or Brad’s fault. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down. “I have to… Is there a bathroom somewhere?”
Walt points him in the right direction and Nate escapes from the room. He closes the door behind himself and turns on the cold water faucet. He splashes his face and it helps a bit, the water cooling him off, and he finally starts to think more clearly.
This whole situation is so messed up and Nate would probably find it funny if it didn’t involve him - but it does. And nothing good can come out of it, because it’s so wrong in every way - oh God, he’s basically lusting after his own sister’s boyfriend.
Fandom: Generation Kill
Pairing: Brad/Nate
Summary: fuck if I know, I think I wrote this at 3am during the exam session and I swear it made sense then XD
They are lying on the bed, their limbs tangled together, a blanket thrown over their bodies. Nate can feel Brad’s heartbeat, strong and steady against his back.
The house always seems too empty when Brad is away. Nate thinks he should have got used to it by now, after six years of being in this relationship, but the lack of Brad’s presence is always discernible. And when he comes back, it almost feels like a new beginning.
The last few hours are a blur of feelings and images - there’s a sense of relief, because Brad is home, finally, and there’s no more waiting. There are Brad’s fingers, touching, exploring, learning Nate’s body again. There is a faint rustling sound, the sheets cold to the touch at first. There are lazy, open-mouthed kisses, gentle bites on Nate’s collarbone. There are soft whispers of Brad and yes, there, and please, and forever.
They never make promises they can’t keep.
Fandom: Generation Kill
Pairing: Brad/Nate
I'm writing this one currently and I plan to finish it, so I won't post everything I have (it's about 6,5k long right now). Consider it a teaser or something.
The message was clear enough - there is a monster. Find it, kill it and then leave the village. And preferably never come back (unless, of course, some other lousy creature shows up, then we will welcome you back with open arms).
Which is exactly how Brad finds himself in the middle of a fucking swamp, freezing his balls off and waiting for something to show up, because he’d like to get the job done already. There are other places he’d rather spend the night in and most of these places involve a bed. And possibly a pussy, although he wouldn’t be opposed to a cock either. Brad is a man of simple pleasures.
A splash of water sounds surprisingly loud in the still of the night and Brad turns towards the source. There, behind a pile of garbage, something is moving. He adjusts his grip on the hilt of his sword and creeps closer.
The problem with most of the monsters is - they may be strong, but most of the time they are also incredibly stupid. To kill them, wait for the right opportunity. Don’t rush headlong into danger. Observe. Find the weak points. Attack. To survive, you need to act by three simple rules: swift, silent, deadly. Kill them before they kill you.
The creature in question certainly doesn’t put much effort into hiding its position - with all the noise it’s making, a five year old wouldn’t have problems with locating it. Hell, even Ray would manage.
Brad slowly raises from his crouching position and prepares to strike when the beast makes an odd choking noise, only it’s not the beast, because apparently they have company. Well, shit. Saving damsels in distress wasn’t in the plan for today.
Fandom: Figure Skating
Pairing: Johnny/Stephane, Adam/Yuna (not in this part though)
Adam was excited. Really, really excited and it was quite easy to tell, because he had this big grin on his face and didn’t seem to be able to stop bouncing with delight.
(Sometimes Johnny wished he still had this kind of energy, this ability to laugh at everything. But he smiled, because Adam’s joy was contagious.)
“I did it, I did it! Have you seen? I got the part! It’s amazing!”
(It’s not that Johnny was dissatisfied. He got the leading role, after all, and he was happy - just because he wasn’t acting like a hyperactive poodle didn’t mean he was discontent. He was just… tired. A bit.)
“Yeah, great. Good job, kid,” he said, reaching out to ruffle Adam’s hair. Adam ducked.
“No, no, not the hair! Please, Johnny!” It was hilarious, the way he avoided people touching his curls. “Anyway, have you seen the new guy? Yu-Na said that Patrick told her that Shizuka saw him talking to Mr. Orser. He’s going to help him with the choreo.”
“You mean, he’s going to help David with the choreo, right?” laughed Johnny.
“Yes, whatever. Brian Orser, David Wilson, what’s the difference? It’s like they’re the same person.” Adam shrugged and continued, “But the new guy? I hear he’s awesome.”
“That’s good, then. God knows I love Russia and everything that’s Russian, but working with Nikolai last season? That was downright creepy. I swear, the man knows voodoo.”
“Yeah.” Adam got more serious for a moment. He didn’t like talking about the Russian choreographer and Johnny couldn’t blame him. Frankly, they all felt better when he was finally replaced by David. “I think I’m going to find Yu-Na, we haven’t talked in ages!” Johnny didn’t bother to point out that they saw each other less than an hour ago. And five minutes of gossiping about the new choreographer probably didn’t count as a decent conversation, anyway.
---
Down the corridor, turn right, turn left, second door on the left.
He got the directions from one of the actors and they seemed quite easy to follow, but there was no chance in hell the co-director’s office was actually in men’s bathroom. Right? Even if the Americans had a strange sense of humour.
Yes, there was no doubt he somehow managed to get lost on his first day at the new job.
“Any problem?” He could practically hear the smirk in the speaker’s voice.
“I think I’m lost.”
“I figured that much,” said the stranger with a smile. “Where are you supposed to be?”
“Ms. Zmievskaya is waiting for me in her office. And I think I’m late.” He was starting to get nervous, as well. He’s been in the theatre for less than an hour and he’s already heard a hundred stories about Galina. If there was one thing he learned, it was to never ever anger the Soviet Monster, because she could bite your head off. He sincerely hoped the tales were exaggerated.
“That’s never a good thing, she can be really scary. But don’t worry, I don’t think anybody has died. Yet.” Oh. It seemed he got himself into deep merde, after all. “I’m Johnny, by the way.”
“Stéphane. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Come, I’ll show you the way. You must be the new guy, then?” Stéphane nodded. They were going back to where he came from, and now that he thought about it, he might have missed one instruction about turning left. Johnny came to a stop before large wooden doors. They looked intimidating, made of mahogany, with an ornate brass handle.
“Here we are. Good luck!” Johnny smiled at him before turning back on his heel and running back in the opposite direction.
Stéphane knocked.
“Enter!” came a sharp command. He opened the door and peered inside. Galina was sitting behind a desk, frowning.
“Ah, Mr. Lambiel. V kontse. Finally. Sit.” Stéphane sat down, suddenly feeling like a chastised child in front of a school principal. “You are here to do the job, yes? I want effect. No effect, not good. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am. I will do my best.” He smiled then, and if it were any other woman in Galina’s place, she would have melted immediately, but the co-director didn’t seem to be won over by his charming personality.
“Ochen’ horosho. Now, there is work to do.” This probably meant he was dismissed, so he took it as his cue to leave and escaped.
---
If stupid excuses were an Olympic discipline, Adam would be a serious medal contender. We haven’t talked in ages, seriously? At least it was better than I know I saw her five minutes ago, but she looked gorgeous and I really wanted to tell her that.
Pathetic.
It wasn’t that he was madly in love with her, though, none of that thing. He might have had a little crush on her (even if she did try to shove snow under his collar every time they went somewhere in winter, which could be mildly annoying), but his name wasn’t Patrick, thank you very much. They were just friends and he really enjoyed talking to her - besides, Yu-Na always had the latest gossip.
And that funny sensation he felt in his stomach whenever she smiled at him? It had nothing to do with any butterflies. No butterflies at all. He was pretty sure he had a butterfly in his stomach once (he ate one when he was five years old; it was pretty and rainbow-coloured, and looked tasty) and the feeling was completely different.
“Hi, Adam!”
“Yu-Na! Hi!” No butterflies. Maybe it was a bug? He never ate a bug, so he couldn’t be sure. “Um, yeah. Hi.”
“I talked to Shizuka after you left. You know, about the new guy?” Yu-Na seemed really excited and this probably shouldn’t have really bothered him - but it did. “She said he’s kind of hot.”
“That’s… good?” It shouldn’t have come out as a question. Suddenly, Adam felt like banging his head on the wall - hard - because hello? could he be any more obvious? “I mean- Yeah, that’s great.”
“If you think so.” Yu-Na looked doubtful (why? Wasn’t he supposed to be enthusiastic?). “Anyway, I wanted to ask - have you looked at your part yet? Because I - my parents are going to a party tonight, and I thought that maybe we could go over the lines? What do you think?”
“Go over the lines? As in - together?” Oh. “Um, I think, yeah, it could be fun. But, you know, we’re not exactly playing in the same scenes, much, right? So shouldn’t you be doing it with Johnny or something?” And, damn, he must have said something wrong again, because for a moment Yu-Na just looked at him and she seemed… sad, but maybe he was just imagining things - this was Yu-Na, after all, she was always so cheerful, so she couldn’t have possibly been upset because of Adam, right?
“I guess I should. I just - oh, okay, never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
“Tomorrow, yes. Um. Bye?”
Pathetic.
---
EliotHalverson: you’re an idiot
EliotHalverson: you know that, right?
Adaripp: i’m not! i didn’t say anything!
EliotHalverson: see? that’s the problem, you didn’t
Adaripp: was i supposed to?
EliotHalverson: man, you’re really hopeless. a girl asks you to spend time with her, alone, and you say she should ask someone else?
Adaripp: but it was true! not like i could help her with anything!
EliotHalverson: …
EliotHalverson: okay, wait. let’s get the facts straight. you like her, y/n?
Adaripp: …yes? i think so. i mean, she’s fun, right? i like talking to her
EliotHalverson: when you’re not making an idiot of yourself? sure. and what do you mean, you think so? you either do or you don’t, what is there to think about?
Adaripp: i mean, i haven’t exactly liked anybody before, okay? like liked-liked. but i think i do. like her, i mean. you know, like-like. am i making any sense?
EliotHalverson: nope. so, you have these little butterflies in your stomach whenever you look at her?
Adaripp: no! geez, what is it with the butterflies? it’s like people turned into a bunch of crazy entomologists! it’s so stupid!
EliotHalverson: yeah, w/e. so you like her. she tried to ask you out
Adaripp: she didn’t! she wanted to practice her role!
EliotHalverson: with you. alone. she did, don’t interrupt. you gave her the mitten. yes, you did, shut up. she’s probably heartbroken rn
Adaripp: thanks a lot. why did i even write to you in the first place?
EliotHalverson: ha! cause i’m awesome and i’ll help you fix everything, so you can get married, have a bunch of the cutest children on earth and live in a world filled with sunshine and rainbows and puppies for the rest of your days, how does that sound?
Adaripp: still not sure if i actually want your help
EliotHalverson: oh, you do. you just don’t know it yet
EliotHalverson: heard my evil laugh?
EliotHalverson: hey, are you there?
EliotHalverson: Adam?
Fandom: Figure Skating
Pairing: Adam/Jeff
Lol, I just noticed one of the characters here is named Brad. And I mentioned ASkars. Fandom ate my brain.
Summary: He just needed to say goodbye to Brad, who was talking to Jeffrey Buttle near the entrance and something was terribly wrong there, because there was no way Jeffrey Buttle would be at the Scranton ice rink talking to Brad.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that hearing your alarm clock at five in the morning is not the most pleasant experience in the world. Adam tried to smother the irritating thing with his pillow, which was probably not the best idea, as he only managed to knock down the glass of water from his nightstand on himself. The clock was still beeping loudly, so he finally gave up and decided to emerge from his room.
His roommate was sitting at the kitchen table. She smiled at him when he made himself a cup of coffee and sat down.
“Hey. You look like a wet puppy, you know?” Adam decided not to respond to this and shot her a dark look. “And it doesn’t really work when you’re trying to intimidate me, because now you just look like an annoyed wet puppy and it makes me want to cuddle you.”
“Ha ha, oh, that was so funny. I’m wounded, you know?”
“But you love me anyway” she said, unfazed. “Are you going to the rink today?”
“Yes. What time is it?” He looked at the clock near the kitchenette and promptly panicked. “Oh no, I’ll be late! And I promised Brad I would come earlier today, oh no!” He almost ran to the door, grabbing his jacket on the way. “I’ll see you in the evening!” he shouted, closing the door.
Mirai started counting to ten. When she got to seven, the door opened and a sheepish looking Adam peeked in.
“I forgot…”
“Your skates. I know.”
He took them off the hook and waved at her before disappearing again.
---
It turned out he arrived at the local rink just in time and Brad didn’t manage to get terribly angry with him yet. He put on his skates and zipped up the jacked - it was purple and the color wasn’t really flattering, but he liked it. Mirai didn’t and she kept insisting he throw it away, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
The ice was smooth. It always felt great - to be the first person to step on the surface, just after the zamboni machine left, and to skate in an almost empty rink, with no noisy children tripping over their own feet. Not that he didn’t like the children - with so many little brothers and sisters it was impossible not to like kids, or he’d have gone crazy a long time ago - but they were a bit tiresome from time to time.
Still, he enjoyed the peace while he could. The only sound was coming from his blades cutting through the ice and sometimes Adam thought it was enough to make him fall in love with this. And maybe he already did that.
He toyed with the idea of jumping a lutz for a while - a double or maybe even a triple - but Brad was nowhere in sight and he didn’t much fancy the thought of falling and twisting his ankle even before the first lesson started. So he just skated in lazy circles around the rink and ignored the little voice in his head saying that if he really wanted to practice something, he should work on his back crossovers, because hearing voices in one’s head was said to be a sign of lunacy and Adam was perfectly sane, thank you very much.
His first lesson was scheduled to start soon, he could hear the kids gathering outside the rink already.
“Hi, Adam!” shouted a little girl, waving at him frantically. She was still a little wobbly on her feet as she made her way towards him on the ice. He pulled on her pigtail playfully.
“Hey, Alice. How’s it going?”
“I got a new dress! See?” She waved her arms around and made a strange motion that was probably supposed to be a spin. Adam managed to catch her before she fell.
“Oh, it’s beautiful! Look at you, a real skating dress! Now you just need to practice a bit more and I bet you’re going to win the regionals any time now!” She let out a delighted squeal and hugged him tightly around the waist.
---
When the last one of the kids finally left the ice he reached for his skate guards. It would be a while before the public hours started, so he had some time to spare. Maybe he would grab a coffee at the café over the corner or indulge in a slice of pizza. He just needed to say goodbye to Brad, who was talking to Jeffrey Buttle near the entrance and something was terribly wrong there, because there was no way Jeffrey Buttle would be at the Scranton ice rink talking to Brad. Adam stared at them for a moment before he realized he must look really foolish with one foot in the air and the skate guard half on, so he got off the ice quickly and turned in the direction of the locker room. The guy (who was most certainly not Jeffrey Buttle) was still explaining something to the boss and Adam tried not to eavesdrop, but they were talking quite loud and the rink had good acoustics, so he couldn’t really help it, could he?
“No, you can’t skate now!” Brad said, exasperated. “The public hours don’t start until six in the evening and if you wish to book a lesson, you’ll have to come tomorrow in the morning.”
“But I don’t want to take any lessons!” the man explained for what it seemed like the third time already. “I just wanted to have the rink for myself for one hour, if that would be possible.”
“Well, sir, you can’t expect me to let you go in there while there’s nobody to supervise you. I won’t have you falling down and killing yourself or something. Do you imagine how much tedious paperwork I would have to do?”
The man burst out laughing and Adam decided he had never seen anybody who was able to laugh like that. He really did look like Jeffrey Buttle, too, especially when you got closer. Adam wasn’t sure when exactly he managed to get closer, but he was standing no more than two meters away now, so his feet must have moved on their own accord. Maybe he developed a nervous twitch in his legs after so many hours of skating. Tired muscles behaved strangely sometimes.
Both men noticed him, so he smiled at them, or at least tried to smile.
“Hi,” said the guy who wasn’t Jeffrey Buttle, except that he really, really did look like him and Adam was quite sure that he really was Jeffrey Buttle. Oh dear.
“Um, hi,” he stammered, fervently hoping he wasn’t making too much of an idiot of himself. “Um.”
That would be a great story to tell his grandchildren if he ever had any, he was sure. They would all gather around him and ask him to please, please say how he met an Olympic medalist and a World Champion and he would tell them he said Um, hi, um. Just wonderful.
“I’m Adam.” Why did his voice sound so squeaky?
“Hi, I’m Jeffrey.”
“Yeah, I know. I mean, hi! It’s nice to meet you! Did you want to skate?”
The little voice in his head said, You’re an idiot. No, he came here to ride a horse and juggle bottles of water. Of course he wanted to skate! Adam promptly told the voice to shut up.
“Well, yes, but your boss here told me you have a break now. And I was only passing by, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to check, you know?”
“Oh. Oh, Brad, you can let him in.” Brad still looked unconvinced, so Adam tugged on his sleeve to get his attention and said in a hushed voice, “He’s Jeffrey Buttle. You know, the guy who won the Worlds a few years ago? I’m pretty sure he won’t hurt himself.”
Brad was a great person and Adam really liked him, but sometimes it seemed like his boss wouldn’t recognize a world-class figure skater if one jumped out of a bush and landed a quad toe on his head. Not literally, of course.
Jeffrey was beginning to look a bit uncomfortable (not that Adam was surprised - he would look uncomfortable, too, if he were faced with two men discussing his world champion status and his ability to stay on his feet on the ice), so Adam nudged Brad with his elbow.
“Well, I think we can make an exception for you,” grumbled the older man. “Just don’t sue me if anything happens.”
The Canadian laughed again and shook his hand. “Thanks!” he said. “I promise I won’t!”
Brad turned on his heel and went back in the direction of his office. Adam suddenly wished he was able to just disappear without a trace, because this situation couldn’t get any more awkward, but Jeffrey was looking at him expectantly, like he was waiting for something.
“Oh! The locker room is there, if you want to change.” He fished a key from the reception desk drawer and gave it to the other man. “Just leave it on the desk when you’re finished.”
“Thank you.” Jeffrey waved at him and Adam wondered if this day could still get stranger.
---
“I met Jeffrey Buttle today” said Adam, toeing off his shoes. Mirai glanced at him over the book she was reading.
“Mhm. And Alexander Skarsgård visited my uni. Anything else?”
“Oh, come on, I’m serious! He said he was visiting a friend and he was just passing by and he saw the rink and he thought he would come in and see if he could skate for a while and Brad didn’t want to let him in and I said he was Jeffrey Buttle, you know, the Jeffrey Buttle, and he wouldn’t kill himself if we let him skate unsupervised and-“
“Okay, okay! I get it, you were serious. Now, breathe.”
Adam breathed. Mirai looked at him expectantly.
“So, really? Wow. I mean, wow. How was it?”
Adam pondered the question for a moment.
“He’s really nice. But it was awkward at first. Yeah, really awkward. I could feel my hair straighten.”
“Ow. That must have been horrible, then.”
His hair was a touchy subject. He tried straightening it once, a few years back - it took him more than a hour to complete and the effect wasn’t really flattering, to say the least. Mirai said should he ever want to do it again, she would tie his hands to a chair until he got the idea out of his system.
“It was kind of surreal, you know? Surreal, but nice. It’s not every day you get to meet a guy like him, right?” laughed Adam.
“Too right. So tell me,” Mirai said, abandoning her book and sitting beside him on the couch. She leaned in and asked with a glint in her eye, “is he as cute in real life as he seems?”
“Cuter than kittens and puppies in a basket. He was really nice, though I probably came out as some mentally challenged kid. Basically, I wasn’t able to do much more than stare at him and say um. Oh God, he must think I’m an idiot.” Adam groaned and buried his face in his hands. Mirai giggled.
“Oh, I’m sure it couldn’t have been so bad.” Adam just looked at her in response. “Did you stare at him for too long?”
“I was putting my skate guards on. And I needed to figure out if he was really who I thought. Well, I think I sort of gaped at him. That was probably borderline creepy, wasn’t it?” He shot her a panicked look. “Do you think he noticed? Oh no, that’s so embarrassing!”
“Don’t worry, I think he must have got used to crazy fans by now.” She threw a pillow at him when he started to protest indignantly. “And it’s not like you’re going to see him again.”
“Yeah, I guess…” Adam agreed reluctantly. He certainly wouldn’t mind seeing Jeffrey at the rink again and perhaps talking to him a bit more (because Adam, once he got over his initial awed and quite incoherent state, was a perfectly good companion). But these things just didn’t happen in real life, right?
Warnings: there is slash. And RPS. I'm going to hell. Avert your eyes if this is not your cup of tea.
Fandom: Generation Kill
Pairing: Brad/Nate
Summary: Nate’s sister thinks he should socialize more. Nate follows her advice and gets himself into deep merde.
This, Nate thinks, is exactly the reason why he should have never listened to his sister in the first place. He should have just stayed at home to study like he intended to do all along.
It could have been worse, though. He just has to survive one night and really, what are the odds of his sister finding him in the middle of a drunken crowd at the party?
“Nate! Here you are! Come on, you can’t hide here all the time” Kate sounds too chipper for his own taste and on second thought, finding shelter in the kitchen maybe wasn’t the best strategic plan ever. “And stop sulking, I told you it’s going to be fun. Let’s go, I’ll introduce you to everybody else.”
He lets himself be dragged to the sitting room, all the while thinking he’s pretty much fucked up.
---
It all began two weeks ago, when Mike insisted he should get his head out of the books, “because they’re not going to destroy all those fucking paintings if you take an hour break”. Nate reluctantly agreed, because Mike was probably right and, well, he never liked Lorenzetti too much.
They ended up in a bar just across the street. It was crowded - more than Nate expected, because it was Thursday night after all, so most of the people present were probably going to work the next day and as far as Nate could tell, working with a nasty hangover wasn’t the most pleasant solution.
There were two free seats at the bar, between a girl in a short denim skirt - she winked at them when they made their way towards her - and a guy. He was sitting in a dark corner, so Nate couldn’t see his face properly.
They ordered their drinks - tequila for Mike and a beer for Nate, because he was going to be still more or less sober when they went back.
Afterwards Nate was forced to admit that the evening really was quite pleasant, despite his earlier protests. Halfway through his second beer Mike abandoned him to go somewhere and do something, but never came back, the motherfucker, which gave the girl at their right the perfect opportunity to take Mike’s vacant chair and attempt to make small talk. Nate would have been flattered, really, if she just made an effort to be less obvious about attempting to get into his pants. Some people really lacked subtlety.
However, she lost her interest after Nate admitted he studied art history and added he found Uccello’s impact on the perspective fascinating for a good measure. He was pretty sure the guy sitting at his left snorted with amusement. She excused herself pretty soon after that.
“I must admit, that was quite entertaining to watch. Art history, really?” he heard the guy ask.
Nate shrugged.
“She didn’t seem to appreciate it.”
The guy moved a bit closer and Nate was able to observe him better now. He certainly was tall and muscular, but his eyes were what drew the attention in the first place - Nate was fully prepared to go with the cliché and compare them to frozen ponds of water or something. Only in his head, of course, because he haven’t had that much to drink yet.
“Do you always talk about Uccello when you meet new people?” The look the guy sent him was challenging and Nate responded with a wry smile.
“No. When it’s somebody I like, I mention Caspar David Friedrich.”
The guy laughed then and Nate relaxed back in his seat.
They talked some more until it got really late (JESUSFUCK CHANGE THIS SENTENCE) and Nate had to go back home, because it was Friday tomorrow after all and he had to get up early to make it in time for classes.
When the fresh air hit him outside he realized he didn’t even get the guy’s name, not to mention his phone number or anything. So that probably meant he was never going to meet him again - and while talking to him was really nice and entertaining, it wasn’t the end of the world and it didn’t bother him too much.
That is, not until he saw him again, making out with his own sister at the party.
---
“Hey, everyone, this is Nate, my brother” Kate says, pushing him in front of herself. “Nate, this is Walt - it’s his house.” Walt shakes his hand and Nate offers him a small smile. “And that guy near the window is Ray - don’t mind him, he’s always like that and I’m really sorry for whatever he says.”
“Ow, Kate! You wound me!” Ray interrupts, coming closer. “Nate, don’t listen to her. I'm awesome, right, Walt?”
“Ray, you think that only because your pea sized poor excuse for a brain makes you delusional,” a voice interrupts them.
“And this is Brad,” Kate informs him, smiling. “My boyfriend.”
Fuck. Oh, fuck.
“We’ve met before,” says Brad, and it’s not a question.
“Yeah. Yeah, we did,” Nate confirms. Kate looks at him questioningly.
“Really? When?”
“A couple of weeks ago,” Brad answers, still looking at Nate. Nate can feel his cheeks getting suspiciously hot and oh fuck, this is getting worse with every minute. He clears his throat.
“Yeah. In a bar near my place. I… I didn’t know he was your boyfriend.” He doesn’t mean to sound accusing, because none of this is his sister’s fault, or Brad’s fault. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down. “I have to… Is there a bathroom somewhere?”
Walt points him in the right direction and Nate escapes from the room. He closes the door behind himself and turns on the cold water faucet. He splashes his face and it helps a bit, the water cooling him off, and he finally starts to think more clearly.
This whole situation is so messed up and Nate would probably find it funny if it didn’t involve him - but it does. And nothing good can come out of it, because it’s so wrong in every way - oh God, he’s basically lusting after his own sister’s boyfriend.
Fandom: Generation Kill
Pairing: Brad/Nate
Summary: fuck if I know, I think I wrote this at 3am during the exam session and I swear it made sense then XD
They are lying on the bed, their limbs tangled together, a blanket thrown over their bodies. Nate can feel Brad’s heartbeat, strong and steady against his back.
The house always seems too empty when Brad is away. Nate thinks he should have got used to it by now, after six years of being in this relationship, but the lack of Brad’s presence is always discernible. And when he comes back, it almost feels like a new beginning.
The last few hours are a blur of feelings and images - there’s a sense of relief, because Brad is home, finally, and there’s no more waiting. There are Brad’s fingers, touching, exploring, learning Nate’s body again. There is a faint rustling sound, the sheets cold to the touch at first. There are lazy, open-mouthed kisses, gentle bites on Nate’s collarbone. There are soft whispers of Brad and yes, there, and please, and forever.
They never make promises they can’t keep.
Fandom: Generation Kill
Pairing: Brad/Nate
I'm writing this one currently and I plan to finish it, so I won't post everything I have (it's about 6,5k long right now). Consider it a teaser or something.
The message was clear enough - there is a monster. Find it, kill it and then leave the village. And preferably never come back (unless, of course, some other lousy creature shows up, then we will welcome you back with open arms).
Which is exactly how Brad finds himself in the middle of a fucking swamp, freezing his balls off and waiting for something to show up, because he’d like to get the job done already. There are other places he’d rather spend the night in and most of these places involve a bed. And possibly a pussy, although he wouldn’t be opposed to a cock either. Brad is a man of simple pleasures.
A splash of water sounds surprisingly loud in the still of the night and Brad turns towards the source. There, behind a pile of garbage, something is moving. He adjusts his grip on the hilt of his sword and creeps closer.
The problem with most of the monsters is - they may be strong, but most of the time they are also incredibly stupid. To kill them, wait for the right opportunity. Don’t rush headlong into danger. Observe. Find the weak points. Attack. To survive, you need to act by three simple rules: swift, silent, deadly. Kill them before they kill you.
The creature in question certainly doesn’t put much effort into hiding its position - with all the noise it’s making, a five year old wouldn’t have problems with locating it. Hell, even Ray would manage.
Brad slowly raises from his crouching position and prepares to strike when the beast makes an odd choking noise, only it’s not the beast, because apparently they have company. Well, shit. Saving damsels in distress wasn’t in the plan for today.
Fandom: Figure Skating
Pairing: Johnny/Stephane, Adam/Yuna (not in this part though)
Adam was excited. Really, really excited and it was quite easy to tell, because he had this big grin on his face and didn’t seem to be able to stop bouncing with delight.
(Sometimes Johnny wished he still had this kind of energy, this ability to laugh at everything. But he smiled, because Adam’s joy was contagious.)
“I did it, I did it! Have you seen? I got the part! It’s amazing!”
(It’s not that Johnny was dissatisfied. He got the leading role, after all, and he was happy - just because he wasn’t acting like a hyperactive poodle didn’t mean he was discontent. He was just… tired. A bit.)
“Yeah, great. Good job, kid,” he said, reaching out to ruffle Adam’s hair. Adam ducked.
“No, no, not the hair! Please, Johnny!” It was hilarious, the way he avoided people touching his curls. “Anyway, have you seen the new guy? Yu-Na said that Patrick told her that Shizuka saw him talking to Mr. Orser. He’s going to help him with the choreo.”
“You mean, he’s going to help David with the choreo, right?” laughed Johnny.
“Yes, whatever. Brian Orser, David Wilson, what’s the difference? It’s like they’re the same person.” Adam shrugged and continued, “But the new guy? I hear he’s awesome.”
“That’s good, then. God knows I love Russia and everything that’s Russian, but working with Nikolai last season? That was downright creepy. I swear, the man knows voodoo.”
“Yeah.” Adam got more serious for a moment. He didn’t like talking about the Russian choreographer and Johnny couldn’t blame him. Frankly, they all felt better when he was finally replaced by David. “I think I’m going to find Yu-Na, we haven’t talked in ages!” Johnny didn’t bother to point out that they saw each other less than an hour ago. And five minutes of gossiping about the new choreographer probably didn’t count as a decent conversation, anyway.
---
Down the corridor, turn right, turn left, second door on the left.
He got the directions from one of the actors and they seemed quite easy to follow, but there was no chance in hell the co-director’s office was actually in men’s bathroom. Right? Even if the Americans had a strange sense of humour.
Yes, there was no doubt he somehow managed to get lost on his first day at the new job.
“Any problem?” He could practically hear the smirk in the speaker’s voice.
“I think I’m lost.”
“I figured that much,” said the stranger with a smile. “Where are you supposed to be?”
“Ms. Zmievskaya is waiting for me in her office. And I think I’m late.” He was starting to get nervous, as well. He’s been in the theatre for less than an hour and he’s already heard a hundred stories about Galina. If there was one thing he learned, it was to never ever anger the Soviet Monster, because she could bite your head off. He sincerely hoped the tales were exaggerated.
“That’s never a good thing, she can be really scary. But don’t worry, I don’t think anybody has died. Yet.” Oh. It seemed he got himself into deep merde, after all. “I’m Johnny, by the way.”
“Stéphane. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Come, I’ll show you the way. You must be the new guy, then?” Stéphane nodded. They were going back to where he came from, and now that he thought about it, he might have missed one instruction about turning left. Johnny came to a stop before large wooden doors. They looked intimidating, made of mahogany, with an ornate brass handle.
“Here we are. Good luck!” Johnny smiled at him before turning back on his heel and running back in the opposite direction.
Stéphane knocked.
“Enter!” came a sharp command. He opened the door and peered inside. Galina was sitting behind a desk, frowning.
“Ah, Mr. Lambiel. V kontse. Finally. Sit.” Stéphane sat down, suddenly feeling like a chastised child in front of a school principal. “You are here to do the job, yes? I want effect. No effect, not good. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am. I will do my best.” He smiled then, and if it were any other woman in Galina’s place, she would have melted immediately, but the co-director didn’t seem to be won over by his charming personality.
“Ochen’ horosho. Now, there is work to do.” This probably meant he was dismissed, so he took it as his cue to leave and escaped.
---
If stupid excuses were an Olympic discipline, Adam would be a serious medal contender. We haven’t talked in ages, seriously? At least it was better than I know I saw her five minutes ago, but she looked gorgeous and I really wanted to tell her that.
Pathetic.
It wasn’t that he was madly in love with her, though, none of that thing. He might have had a little crush on her (even if she did try to shove snow under his collar every time they went somewhere in winter, which could be mildly annoying), but his name wasn’t Patrick, thank you very much. They were just friends and he really enjoyed talking to her - besides, Yu-Na always had the latest gossip.
And that funny sensation he felt in his stomach whenever she smiled at him? It had nothing to do with any butterflies. No butterflies at all. He was pretty sure he had a butterfly in his stomach once (he ate one when he was five years old; it was pretty and rainbow-coloured, and looked tasty) and the feeling was completely different.
“Hi, Adam!”
“Yu-Na! Hi!” No butterflies. Maybe it was a bug? He never ate a bug, so he couldn’t be sure. “Um, yeah. Hi.”
“I talked to Shizuka after you left. You know, about the new guy?” Yu-Na seemed really excited and this probably shouldn’t have really bothered him - but it did. “She said he’s kind of hot.”
“That’s… good?” It shouldn’t have come out as a question. Suddenly, Adam felt like banging his head on the wall - hard - because hello? could he be any more obvious? “I mean- Yeah, that’s great.”
“If you think so.” Yu-Na looked doubtful (why? Wasn’t he supposed to be enthusiastic?). “Anyway, I wanted to ask - have you looked at your part yet? Because I - my parents are going to a party tonight, and I thought that maybe we could go over the lines? What do you think?”
“Go over the lines? As in - together?” Oh. “Um, I think, yeah, it could be fun. But, you know, we’re not exactly playing in the same scenes, much, right? So shouldn’t you be doing it with Johnny or something?” And, damn, he must have said something wrong again, because for a moment Yu-Na just looked at him and she seemed… sad, but maybe he was just imagining things - this was Yu-Na, after all, she was always so cheerful, so she couldn’t have possibly been upset because of Adam, right?
“I guess I should. I just - oh, okay, never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
“Tomorrow, yes. Um. Bye?”
Pathetic.
---
EliotHalverson: you’re an idiot
EliotHalverson: you know that, right?
Adaripp: i’m not! i didn’t say anything!
EliotHalverson: see? that’s the problem, you didn’t
Adaripp: was i supposed to?
EliotHalverson: man, you’re really hopeless. a girl asks you to spend time with her, alone, and you say she should ask someone else?
Adaripp: but it was true! not like i could help her with anything!
EliotHalverson: …
EliotHalverson: okay, wait. let’s get the facts straight. you like her, y/n?
Adaripp: …yes? i think so. i mean, she’s fun, right? i like talking to her
EliotHalverson: when you’re not making an idiot of yourself? sure. and what do you mean, you think so? you either do or you don’t, what is there to think about?
Adaripp: i mean, i haven’t exactly liked anybody before, okay? like liked-liked. but i think i do. like her, i mean. you know, like-like. am i making any sense?
EliotHalverson: nope. so, you have these little butterflies in your stomach whenever you look at her?
Adaripp: no! geez, what is it with the butterflies? it’s like people turned into a bunch of crazy entomologists! it’s so stupid!
EliotHalverson: yeah, w/e. so you like her. she tried to ask you out
Adaripp: she didn’t! she wanted to practice her role!
EliotHalverson: with you. alone. she did, don’t interrupt. you gave her the mitten. yes, you did, shut up. she’s probably heartbroken rn
Adaripp: thanks a lot. why did i even write to you in the first place?
EliotHalverson: ha! cause i’m awesome and i’ll help you fix everything, so you can get married, have a bunch of the cutest children on earth and live in a world filled with sunshine and rainbows and puppies for the rest of your days, how does that sound?
Adaripp: still not sure if i actually want your help
EliotHalverson: oh, you do. you just don’t know it yet
EliotHalverson: heard my evil laugh?
EliotHalverson: hey, are you there?
EliotHalverson: Adam?
Fandom: Figure Skating
Pairing: Adam/Jeff
Lol, I just noticed one of the characters here is named Brad. And I mentioned ASkars. Fandom ate my brain.
Summary: He just needed to say goodbye to Brad, who was talking to Jeffrey Buttle near the entrance and something was terribly wrong there, because there was no way Jeffrey Buttle would be at the Scranton ice rink talking to Brad.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that hearing your alarm clock at five in the morning is not the most pleasant experience in the world. Adam tried to smother the irritating thing with his pillow, which was probably not the best idea, as he only managed to knock down the glass of water from his nightstand on himself. The clock was still beeping loudly, so he finally gave up and decided to emerge from his room.
His roommate was sitting at the kitchen table. She smiled at him when he made himself a cup of coffee and sat down.
“Hey. You look like a wet puppy, you know?” Adam decided not to respond to this and shot her a dark look. “And it doesn’t really work when you’re trying to intimidate me, because now you just look like an annoyed wet puppy and it makes me want to cuddle you.”
“Ha ha, oh, that was so funny. I’m wounded, you know?”
“But you love me anyway” she said, unfazed. “Are you going to the rink today?”
“Yes. What time is it?” He looked at the clock near the kitchenette and promptly panicked. “Oh no, I’ll be late! And I promised Brad I would come earlier today, oh no!” He almost ran to the door, grabbing his jacket on the way. “I’ll see you in the evening!” he shouted, closing the door.
Mirai started counting to ten. When she got to seven, the door opened and a sheepish looking Adam peeked in.
“I forgot…”
“Your skates. I know.”
He took them off the hook and waved at her before disappearing again.
---
It turned out he arrived at the local rink just in time and Brad didn’t manage to get terribly angry with him yet. He put on his skates and zipped up the jacked - it was purple and the color wasn’t really flattering, but he liked it. Mirai didn’t and she kept insisting he throw it away, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
The ice was smooth. It always felt great - to be the first person to step on the surface, just after the zamboni machine left, and to skate in an almost empty rink, with no noisy children tripping over their own feet. Not that he didn’t like the children - with so many little brothers and sisters it was impossible not to like kids, or he’d have gone crazy a long time ago - but they were a bit tiresome from time to time.
Still, he enjoyed the peace while he could. The only sound was coming from his blades cutting through the ice and sometimes Adam thought it was enough to make him fall in love with this. And maybe he already did that.
He toyed with the idea of jumping a lutz for a while - a double or maybe even a triple - but Brad was nowhere in sight and he didn’t much fancy the thought of falling and twisting his ankle even before the first lesson started. So he just skated in lazy circles around the rink and ignored the little voice in his head saying that if he really wanted to practice something, he should work on his back crossovers, because hearing voices in one’s head was said to be a sign of lunacy and Adam was perfectly sane, thank you very much.
His first lesson was scheduled to start soon, he could hear the kids gathering outside the rink already.
“Hi, Adam!” shouted a little girl, waving at him frantically. She was still a little wobbly on her feet as she made her way towards him on the ice. He pulled on her pigtail playfully.
“Hey, Alice. How’s it going?”
“I got a new dress! See?” She waved her arms around and made a strange motion that was probably supposed to be a spin. Adam managed to catch her before she fell.
“Oh, it’s beautiful! Look at you, a real skating dress! Now you just need to practice a bit more and I bet you’re going to win the regionals any time now!” She let out a delighted squeal and hugged him tightly around the waist.
---
When the last one of the kids finally left the ice he reached for his skate guards. It would be a while before the public hours started, so he had some time to spare. Maybe he would grab a coffee at the café over the corner or indulge in a slice of pizza. He just needed to say goodbye to Brad, who was talking to Jeffrey Buttle near the entrance and something was terribly wrong there, because there was no way Jeffrey Buttle would be at the Scranton ice rink talking to Brad. Adam stared at them for a moment before he realized he must look really foolish with one foot in the air and the skate guard half on, so he got off the ice quickly and turned in the direction of the locker room. The guy (who was most certainly not Jeffrey Buttle) was still explaining something to the boss and Adam tried not to eavesdrop, but they were talking quite loud and the rink had good acoustics, so he couldn’t really help it, could he?
“No, you can’t skate now!” Brad said, exasperated. “The public hours don’t start until six in the evening and if you wish to book a lesson, you’ll have to come tomorrow in the morning.”
“But I don’t want to take any lessons!” the man explained for what it seemed like the third time already. “I just wanted to have the rink for myself for one hour, if that would be possible.”
“Well, sir, you can’t expect me to let you go in there while there’s nobody to supervise you. I won’t have you falling down and killing yourself or something. Do you imagine how much tedious paperwork I would have to do?”
The man burst out laughing and Adam decided he had never seen anybody who was able to laugh like that. He really did look like Jeffrey Buttle, too, especially when you got closer. Adam wasn’t sure when exactly he managed to get closer, but he was standing no more than two meters away now, so his feet must have moved on their own accord. Maybe he developed a nervous twitch in his legs after so many hours of skating. Tired muscles behaved strangely sometimes.
Both men noticed him, so he smiled at them, or at least tried to smile.
“Hi,” said the guy who wasn’t Jeffrey Buttle, except that he really, really did look like him and Adam was quite sure that he really was Jeffrey Buttle. Oh dear.
“Um, hi,” he stammered, fervently hoping he wasn’t making too much of an idiot of himself. “Um.”
That would be a great story to tell his grandchildren if he ever had any, he was sure. They would all gather around him and ask him to please, please say how he met an Olympic medalist and a World Champion and he would tell them he said Um, hi, um. Just wonderful.
“I’m Adam.” Why did his voice sound so squeaky?
“Hi, I’m Jeffrey.”
“Yeah, I know. I mean, hi! It’s nice to meet you! Did you want to skate?”
The little voice in his head said, You’re an idiot. No, he came here to ride a horse and juggle bottles of water. Of course he wanted to skate! Adam promptly told the voice to shut up.
“Well, yes, but your boss here told me you have a break now. And I was only passing by, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to check, you know?”
“Oh. Oh, Brad, you can let him in.” Brad still looked unconvinced, so Adam tugged on his sleeve to get his attention and said in a hushed voice, “He’s Jeffrey Buttle. You know, the guy who won the Worlds a few years ago? I’m pretty sure he won’t hurt himself.”
Brad was a great person and Adam really liked him, but sometimes it seemed like his boss wouldn’t recognize a world-class figure skater if one jumped out of a bush and landed a quad toe on his head. Not literally, of course.
Jeffrey was beginning to look a bit uncomfortable (not that Adam was surprised - he would look uncomfortable, too, if he were faced with two men discussing his world champion status and his ability to stay on his feet on the ice), so Adam nudged Brad with his elbow.
“Well, I think we can make an exception for you,” grumbled the older man. “Just don’t sue me if anything happens.”
The Canadian laughed again and shook his hand. “Thanks!” he said. “I promise I won’t!”
Brad turned on his heel and went back in the direction of his office. Adam suddenly wished he was able to just disappear without a trace, because this situation couldn’t get any more awkward, but Jeffrey was looking at him expectantly, like he was waiting for something.
“Oh! The locker room is there, if you want to change.” He fished a key from the reception desk drawer and gave it to the other man. “Just leave it on the desk when you’re finished.”
“Thank you.” Jeffrey waved at him and Adam wondered if this day could still get stranger.
---
“I met Jeffrey Buttle today” said Adam, toeing off his shoes. Mirai glanced at him over the book she was reading.
“Mhm. And Alexander Skarsgård visited my uni. Anything else?”
“Oh, come on, I’m serious! He said he was visiting a friend and he was just passing by and he saw the rink and he thought he would come in and see if he could skate for a while and Brad didn’t want to let him in and I said he was Jeffrey Buttle, you know, the Jeffrey Buttle, and he wouldn’t kill himself if we let him skate unsupervised and-“
“Okay, okay! I get it, you were serious. Now, breathe.”
Adam breathed. Mirai looked at him expectantly.
“So, really? Wow. I mean, wow. How was it?”
Adam pondered the question for a moment.
“He’s really nice. But it was awkward at first. Yeah, really awkward. I could feel my hair straighten.”
“Ow. That must have been horrible, then.”
His hair was a touchy subject. He tried straightening it once, a few years back - it took him more than a hour to complete and the effect wasn’t really flattering, to say the least. Mirai said should he ever want to do it again, she would tie his hands to a chair until he got the idea out of his system.
“It was kind of surreal, you know? Surreal, but nice. It’s not every day you get to meet a guy like him, right?” laughed Adam.
“Too right. So tell me,” Mirai said, abandoning her book and sitting beside him on the couch. She leaned in and asked with a glint in her eye, “is he as cute in real life as he seems?”
“Cuter than kittens and puppies in a basket. He was really nice, though I probably came out as some mentally challenged kid. Basically, I wasn’t able to do much more than stare at him and say um. Oh God, he must think I’m an idiot.” Adam groaned and buried his face in his hands. Mirai giggled.
“Oh, I’m sure it couldn’t have been so bad.” Adam just looked at her in response. “Did you stare at him for too long?”
“I was putting my skate guards on. And I needed to figure out if he was really who I thought. Well, I think I sort of gaped at him. That was probably borderline creepy, wasn’t it?” He shot her a panicked look. “Do you think he noticed? Oh no, that’s so embarrassing!”
“Don’t worry, I think he must have got used to crazy fans by now.” She threw a pillow at him when he started to protest indignantly. “And it’s not like you’re going to see him again.”
“Yeah, I guess…” Adam agreed reluctantly. He certainly wouldn’t mind seeing Jeffrey at the rink again and perhaps talking to him a bit more (because Adam, once he got over his initial awed and quite incoherent state, was a perfectly good companion). But these things just didn’t happen in real life, right?