"Still Surprise You When It Shatters" - Adam/Tommy, PG-13
Title: "Still Surprise You When It Shatters"
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Adam/Tommy
Word Count: 620
Summary: For happy1225's charity donation drive contribution - she wanted scarf!fic, and scarf!fic she gets.
Author's Notes: Thanks to i_bleed_magenta for the beta! Title from Ben Lee - "Nothing Much Happens".
- - - - -
Adam makes Tommy wear the scarf because no one had expected it to be so fucking cold in a theater where people actually have to survive. He doesn't need it - it feels restricting, like it's holding him back a little - but Tommy is shivering.
Tommy pulls weird reactions out of Adam, reactions that aren't quite unwanted, but they're definitely unexpected. He means it when he says that he doesn't normally crush on straight guys; Adam's not into the unattainable. The barely-attainable is different, total other story, but straight to Adam says you can't have this and then what's the point?
Tommy fucks up all his feelings. One part of him wants to grab a couple of bottles of liquor and straight-up drain them while watching movies together until the sun comes up. Another part of Adam wants to bend Tommy over the nearest table and work him over with lots of tongue and a couple of fingers. No, Adam was so not into straight guys before now. Except Tommy crashed into his life with a bass guitar, a shared penchant for eyeliner, and the irritatingly charming habit of being both incredibly sweet and affectionate when they got drunk.
(They've known each other six weeks and Adam has already experienced this. Months later, when he wakes up with his pulse pounding behind his eyes and a mostly-naked Tommy in his bed, he realizes this was probably an early sign of something he should have watched out for.)
And then there's this other weird part, one he doesn't even want to factor in, that Adam usually only reserves for those closest to him. It's the part of him that comes out and wants to be the protector, wants to provide everything for everyone around him. Me against the world, he thinks as he pulls the scarf out of his bag and wraps it around Tommy's neck. "Here," he says quietly. "It looks good on you."
"Don't worry about it. I'm fine. I'm not turning blue or anything yet," Tommy tells him, but Adam holds the scarf in place.
"Wear it, okay?" Adam says, and it's not a question, not really. He can see the gooseflesh on Tommy's neck and the fine, pale hairs practically standing up from the cold, and he pulls the scarf up a little higher. "Humor me this one time."
Tommy doesn't try to take it off, but he does roll his eyes. "Adam's trying to be my fucking mom," he calls over Adam's shoulder as Lisa comes into the room, but there's no true complaint in it, more like playground sing-song teasing.
"Better you than one of us," Lisa says, brushing a stray hair out of her face as she heads straight for the pot of tea amidst the table of fruit and other snacks against the far wall. "You need a mom sometimes."
Tommy gives the scarf back later, when there are more bodies in the room and the temperature goes up a little (but not enough to be actually comfortable; Adam has no clue how anyone does this every single fucking day). Adam puts it back in his bag, tucking it away in the middle zippered section, but just before closing it up he brings the edge of it up to his nose and takes a deep breath.
Of course the fucking thing smells like Tommy - it smells like guy, like strong, spicy soap and laundry detergent and overtones of the cologne that Adam can smell whenever he gets closer than he really should. Adam likes it; it's not what he's usually attracted to and at the same time it is, just in a more pure, concentrated form.
They pass the scarf back and forth all winter.
-end-
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Adam/Tommy
Word Count: 620
Summary: For happy1225's charity donation drive contribution - she wanted scarf!fic, and scarf!fic she gets.
Author's Notes: Thanks to i_bleed_magenta for the beta! Title from Ben Lee - "Nothing Much Happens".
- - - - -
Adam makes Tommy wear the scarf because no one had expected it to be so fucking cold in a theater where people actually have to survive. He doesn't need it - it feels restricting, like it's holding him back a little - but Tommy is shivering.
Tommy pulls weird reactions out of Adam, reactions that aren't quite unwanted, but they're definitely unexpected. He means it when he says that he doesn't normally crush on straight guys; Adam's not into the unattainable. The barely-attainable is different, total other story, but straight to Adam says you can't have this and then what's the point?
Tommy fucks up all his feelings. One part of him wants to grab a couple of bottles of liquor and straight-up drain them while watching movies together until the sun comes up. Another part of Adam wants to bend Tommy over the nearest table and work him over with lots of tongue and a couple of fingers. No, Adam was so not into straight guys before now. Except Tommy crashed into his life with a bass guitar, a shared penchant for eyeliner, and the irritatingly charming habit of being both incredibly sweet and affectionate when they got drunk.
(They've known each other six weeks and Adam has already experienced this. Months later, when he wakes up with his pulse pounding behind his eyes and a mostly-naked Tommy in his bed, he realizes this was probably an early sign of something he should have watched out for.)
And then there's this other weird part, one he doesn't even want to factor in, that Adam usually only reserves for those closest to him. It's the part of him that comes out and wants to be the protector, wants to provide everything for everyone around him. Me against the world, he thinks as he pulls the scarf out of his bag and wraps it around Tommy's neck. "Here," he says quietly. "It looks good on you."
"Don't worry about it. I'm fine. I'm not turning blue or anything yet," Tommy tells him, but Adam holds the scarf in place.
"Wear it, okay?" Adam says, and it's not a question, not really. He can see the gooseflesh on Tommy's neck and the fine, pale hairs practically standing up from the cold, and he pulls the scarf up a little higher. "Humor me this one time."
Tommy doesn't try to take it off, but he does roll his eyes. "Adam's trying to be my fucking mom," he calls over Adam's shoulder as Lisa comes into the room, but there's no true complaint in it, more like playground sing-song teasing.
"Better you than one of us," Lisa says, brushing a stray hair out of her face as she heads straight for the pot of tea amidst the table of fruit and other snacks against the far wall. "You need a mom sometimes."
Tommy gives the scarf back later, when there are more bodies in the room and the temperature goes up a little (but not enough to be actually comfortable; Adam has no clue how anyone does this every single fucking day). Adam puts it back in his bag, tucking it away in the middle zippered section, but just before closing it up he brings the edge of it up to his nose and takes a deep breath.
Of course the fucking thing smells like Tommy - it smells like guy, like strong, spicy soap and laundry detergent and overtones of the cologne that Adam can smell whenever he gets closer than he really should. Adam likes it; it's not what he's usually attracted to and at the same time it is, just in a more pure, concentrated form.
They pass the scarf back and forth all winter.
-end-