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“Dave?”
Hearing that familiar voice made Davey’s heart do a little flip in his chest; he hadn’t expected to see Adam here. The last he knew, Adam was attending UC Santa Cruz. It seemed a little strange that he had traveled an hour and a half just to come to a party at Berkeley.
Unless of course, Adam was looking for him in particular.
The thought made his head spin, and he very nearly dropped his red solo cup of ginger ale.
“Hey,” he said, blinking at Adam, trying to mask his surprise. “What are you doing all the way out here?”
Adam’s fingers tapped gently against the neck of the bottle of beer he was holding as he stared at Davey. He seemed to be measuring his words. “Actually,” he started, “I was hoping I’d run into you.”
The music in the house, and the chatter of the people around them was so loud that Davey thought he may have misheard. He and Adam had barely spoken since they had gone their separate ways for college.
It had nearly broken his heart; not that he and Adam had been official in high school, but they had been as close to a real relationship than Davey had ever had. It was all wrapped up in the scene, in the band, in the whirlwind that was AFI taking over their lives until acceptance letters came in the mail and it was suddenly over.
Quick and clean, like it had never mattered; except it had mattered. To Davey, if not Adam.
“Yeah?” Davey said stupidly, wanting to kick himself immediately after the word had left his mouth.
Adam didn’t seem to notice though, and instead he steered them out onto the back porch where it was quieter. Only a few people were milling around, mostly couples, and they went back inside as Davey and Adam took their places against the railing.
It was silent for a few moments, nothing but the muffled sounds of the party inside, the cool December air whipping through the spindly trees. They were just at the beginning of their winter break; he’d be heading home to Ukiah soon. He hadn’t expected to see Adam until then, if at all.
“Are you liking school?” Adam asked suddenly, brown eyes flicking down at Davey.
Truthfully, Davey was not enjoying school. He was regretting declaring a double major; it was a lot of work. He missed the band, and most of all he missed Adam. But he couldn’t exactly say that. It had been nearly two years, and Adam had barely bothered to keep in touch.
“It’s alright,” he said carefully, taking a quick sip of his drink. “How about you?”
“Nah,” Adam said without hesitation, shaking his head. “I don’t think college is for me, honestly.”
Davey bit idly at the inside of his lip ring, trying not to think about the nights he and Adam had laid curled in bed together, talking about their futures. How excited they were to leave their tiny town and go somewhere.
Of course, back then, Davey had thought they were going to go on that particular adventure together. When Adam hadn’t even bothered to apply to Berkeley, he knew better. It was never good to pin your hopes and dreams on someone else.
“You know, even now, people still ask me about the band,” Adam said. “At least once a week some kid I don’t even know comes up to me and asks when we’re going to get back together and play some more shows.”
“Really?”
Adam grinned then, full wattage directed at Davey, just like in high school. “Yeah, it’s crazy,” he said. “I mean, I never thought the band would take off like that, you know? Apparently, our reputation precedes us.”
“Wow. Even after two years?”
“Even after two years,” Adam echoed, taking a long pull of his drink and shaking his head.
“Too bad we couldn’t get the band back together,” Davey mused, leaning heavily against the railing and staring inside. He was half serious, half joking. AFI had been his life; he would gladly give everything up to pursue that.
“What if we did?” Adam asked, voice soft. “Got the band back together, I mean.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously,” Adam said. “There’s enough interest. And I miss it. A lot.”
“I do too,” Davey said. Although he wasn’t sure if he meant AFI, or if he meant Adam. The two were forever linked in his mind.
“It would mean leaving school. And if you’re happy at Berkeley…”
“I’m not,” Davey interrupted quickly. “I miss the way things used to be. Leaving school? That’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make if we even have half a chance to get AFI going again.”
Adam turned to look at him then, and it was clear in the way his eyes were slightly glassy and unfocused that this wasn’t his first beer. It made Davey a little wary; would they even be discussing this if Adam weren’t tipsy? Was he even serious?
“I can get us a gig at the Phoenix Theater,” Adam said, voice fevered, clear with excitement and it put to rest some of Davey’s doubts. He’d obviously been thinking about this for longer than their discussion tonight. “And things will be like they were, Dave.”
Davey snorted, a little derisive. “Just like old times?”
“Of course,” Adam said, looking a little perplexed. “You do want that, don’t you?”
Running nervous fingers through his hair, Davey debated on even bringing up the subject of their relationship. It somehow felt unfinished; they’d never talked about it after they parted ways. He’d always felt like Adam had been with him out of convenience; out of a lack of anything better in the small town of Ukiah. He resented it. He was bitter, and that bitterness was what fueled the tumble of words that fell from his mouth before he could stop them.
“I don’t know, Adam. Are you going to hide our relationship just like old times? Will we go back to that, too? Or are we still not even talking about it?”
The look of shock on Adam’s face made Davey wish he could pull the words back into himself; he was being pointlessly spiteful. Adam had no idea how much their relationship—such as it was—had meant to him.
But instead of getting defensive, Adam merely raised his brows, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “I wasn’t planning on it,” he said with a shrug.
That brought Davey up short, and he gaped up at the other man, having no idea how to respond.
“Do you think I haven’t missed you?” Adam asked, disbelief evident in his voice. “I think about you every day, Dave. But we were never—we never discussed what we were, and we always talked about moving on, and I always thought that meant you wanted to move on from me. So I let you.”
“You were wrong,” Davey said simply. A flurry of snow had started to fall, peppering Adam’s hair, melting almost immediately on contact.
“Apparently,” he said, a soft smile in his voice. Glancing towards the glass doors leading into the house and then back at Davey, Adam grabbed a hold of his hand and tugged. “Come here.”
Perplexed, but following willingly enough, Davey let Adam pull him into the house and over towards the Christmas tree glimmering in the corner of the living room. Everyone was watching them oddly; they were holding hands, after all. But Adam didn’t seem to care.
“What are you doing?” Davey asked, brow furrowing. Everyone’s eyes on them was making his skin prickle uncomfortably.
“Exactly what I’ve always wanted to,” Adam responded, and then he jerked his chin up towards the ceiling. “See that? It’s cheesy as hell, but it gives me the perfect excuse to do this.”
Davey was still taking in the sight of the mistletoe—plastic, dollar store brand, little rubber red berries stuck awkwardly to the fake leaves—when Adam tugged him close, tilting his chin up with gentle fingers.
The last time he had kissed Adam, it had been the weekend before they both went off for college. Davey had never thought they would have this again.
But Adam’s lips were warm and soft against his own, long arms wrapped around him just like old times. It had been nearly two years, but absolutely nothing had changed in the way Davey felt about kissing Adam; it still made his heart beat faster, his whole world spin off-tilt.
As long as he had this—as long as he had the band—he could face all of the unknown in their future.