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The flight back to LA is quiet. Tommy sits rows in front of the band, staying close to his mom instead, and feigns sleep for most of the five hour flight. His mind is playing his conversation with Adam on a fucking loop and he can't help but wonder if Adam will actually step up to the challenge.
Between the drive to Burbank, kissing his mother goodbye, and airing out his room, Tommy decides that it really doesn't matter. It's all on Adam now.
A text from Mia and her plans for a welcome home, let's get really fucking drunk party have Tommy shoving thoughts of Adam back into his box. Tommy's determined that he's going to keep Adam there until he knows it's safe to let the man out again.
Somehow he manages to avoid Mia's questions about his, as she calls it, woe-is-me look all night.
His phone buzzes too early to be worth any amount of good. Especially considering the amount of alcohol Mia showed up with last night. All of it they managed to kill before the sun came up again.
Tommy fights his way out of the tangle of sheets and blanket and reaches blindly for the phone, knocking his clock and something that sounded suspiciously like a beer off his bedside table before his fingers close successfully around the phone.
Squinting, Tommy groans when he sees it a fucking text alert for Twitter. Who the fuck... Adam, of course. He starts to toss the phone aside and then the first few words filter through the hangover haze. Now he's wide awake and kicking his way to the side of the bed, pressing the touchscreen and following the TwitLonger link.
Closing your eyes to possibilities and opportunities only leads to carelessly tossing away your heart's desire. If you're lucky enough, you get a chance to earn it back.
Tommy can't stop the hot flare of emotion the words bring, feels a tiny crack appear in the box he uses for all things Adam. At least Adam is owning his fuck-up.
Tommy backs out of tweeting five times. Cancels calling Adam three times. And stops himself from texting Adam more times than he can count. He tells himself that this is Adam's game, that saying anything now is giving Adam an easy out and, right now, easy is the last thing he wants this to be.
The appearance on Good Day LA is scheduled for the next morning. Tommy's pretty sure that's soon enough for talking to Adam again.
The morning is so rushed with setting up and make-up and meeting Isaac's wife and saying hi to Lisa that before Tommy knows it, Adam is ass deep in the interview and everyone else is in the green room waiting. He pays attention to the interview, hoping that for once there will be some originality. He's sorely disappointed.
It's the same back-and-forth of questions and answers that they've heard now for months. Then Dorothy Lucey leans in close and, flirtatious smile in place, asks Adam about having someone special and Tommy is truly shocked.
Not by the question, but the answer.
"There's no one I can call mine." Adam licks his bottom lip, cants his head to the side, and adds, "But there is someone I'd like to."
Tommy wants to kill him. And kiss him. All at the same fucking time.
The interviewer jumps on Adam's statement, immediately asking about the tweet he posted a few days before.
The blush on Adam's neck is obvious, staining his skin a bright red. The make-up hides how far it extends. "Um, yeah, it was about the whole situation."
It's the first time Tommy's seen Adam sound anything less than completely put together. Ever. He turns away from the live feed and totally ignores the questioning looks from Isaac and Monte.
They play Sleepwalker, the next single release scheduled for the States, and then Monte and Adam perform Aftermath. Tommy is watching from the wings, mouthing along with the words, when Ms Lucey slips in close and hints that maybe Tommy knows who Adam's got his eye on.
He chokes back the snapping retort and instead manages to give her an 'are you kidding me' stare. As if he'd break rank even if it wasn't him.
When the session is over and the show moves on to its next segment and they're packing all of their instruments, Adam steps into and all over Tommy's space. He murmurs a hello and asks how Tommy has been. All with an underlying shyness in his voice.
Tommy understands where the tone is coming from. His answers – hey and okay, been hanging with Mia – are more reserved, more wary than he's ever been around Adam before. The fact that they both are acting this way annoys the shit out of him.
The even more stilted request to call Tommy comes close to pissing him off. Except that he knows it's because he told Adam he has to earn it, has to actually work for it. And that probably, almost definitely, has thrown Adam for a loop.
Tommy wonders if Adam realizes that it's not the feelings, not the emotion that he has to win back. That it's all about trust and, right now, Tommy doesn't trust Adam not to break him.
Deep down, he truly believes Adam is missing the big picture. Still.
Twitter is a hotbed of activity and Tommy's phone is buzzing almost nonstop with alerts. He logs onto the computer as soon as he gets home. Friends, family, fans. Everyone is speculating about Adam and the comments he let loose during the interview.
The overriding majority assume Adam is talking about Brad. Tommy's not sure how he feels about that. Logically he knows that Brad is the one with the history, the one everyone knows about. But, from the start, very little has been logical between them. It's unsurprising that this just falls in line with illogical and unjust.
Tommy has the irrational reaction under control by the time Adam calls, leaving room for their conversation to simply flow around them. Something that he used to take for granted but also what disappeared that first night in Singapore.
It seems like both a lifetime ago and so recent that it still bleeds.
It's Adam who changes the direction of the conversation, takes it from the easy and mundane to a level that leaves them both open and raw. They talk about why Tommy held back until Singapore – because I wanted to be sure it was more than a physical attraction – and why Adam pushed Tommy away – because I couldn't take being an experiment.
Their obvious inability to communicate makes Tommy's gut clench. Especially considering they talk more to each other than to anyone else. When he says as much to Adam, Tommy can hear, can damn near feel the overwhelming sadness the reality of that brings. Adam murmurs something about obviously that being what they need to work on first, that good communication would be prime no matter what their relationship turns into.
Tommy appreciates the lack of definition Adam places on their relationship.
After the first phone call, after they both really talk about what happened in Singapore, everything shifts again. They spend hours talking to each other. Always on the phone, neither of them mentioning meeting up and hanging out. In between packing and health checks and seeing everyone they've missed, they're on the phone. Mostly late at night, their voices low and quiet, both of them in bed with the lights out and the curtains open, their rooms lit by the city lights.
It's safe to be vulnerable in the dark with the distance of a phone line between them.
They never talk about the South Pacific leg of the tour. Never about the night Adam disappeared with Jonté, or the time Tommy spent with Scott. They don't talk about the whole not talking period at all. It's a very large blank spot, the proverbial elephant in the room.
They don't talk about where this is going, or how they got to where they are. Instead they talk about who they are individually, learning each other in ways they couldn't or wouldn't do before.
They talk about Tommy's dad and how he's dealing with the empty space losing him left behind, and how Adam kind of hates that being gay sometimes gets more notice than being talented. They talk about Brad and about Delmy. Tommy talks about how he used to work at not being effeminate, at beefing himself up, hiding who he was behind who got the lesser amount of attention because being an eyeliner-wearing waif in high school was so not conducive to happy times. Adam talks about how even now, with everything finally coming together professionally, he finds himself shit-scared and wondering when the world is going to wise up and it's all going to end.
They spend five days communicating.
Then Adam asks Tommy to a dinner party. A get-together at Adam's house to wish them well on the European leg of the tour.
And he wants Tommy there as his date.
There is no question that Tommy will be there. These are his friends, his family just as much as they're Adam's. He just doesn't want them to know it's a date. He explains that to Adam, tells him it's not because he's ashamed or embarrassed or any of that kind of shit.
When Adam goes quiet on the phone, Tommy keeps talking. Says that until they know what the fuck they're doing that, yeah, he doesn't, like, want everyone else in his business. Adds that really, dealing with advice from Scarlett and Brad and Eber isn't really how he wants to spend their last night stateside, but, fuck, spending it with Adam, even if they're surrounded by the weird, fucked-up collection that defines their friends and family is exactly what Tommy wants.
Adam says he understands, sounds like he understands and Tommy's lips twitch into a little grin. The talking and explaining sure beat the shit outta not talking and fucking every piece of ass in sight.
Tommy second-guesses himself a hundred times easy before it's time to leave for Adam's. He changes his mind four times on the drive over there. He's not good at hiding, at being subtle. Not around people he doesn't know. Being in a room full of people who actually know him, who know Adam, is just asking to be called out.
He's the first to arrive. They planned it that way. Between the misunderstanding – fight – and the week they've been here but feeling their way along this new thing, they both want any potential awkwardness to be addressed before everyone else arrives.
It's a baseless worry. Mostly.
He walks in, they watch each other for a minute and then, snorting, Tommy hugs Adam, leans up and brushes a kiss over Adam's jaw. Adam's arms tighten around Tommy and he kisses Tommy's forehead and, one hand dragging up Tommy's back and into his hair, he nuzzles against Tommy's temple. They both sigh with relief.
It's not broken, they're not broken.
Tommy nods when Adam asks if they're still keeping it under wraps. It's the right thing to do. Right for them, right for this.
The deception lasts for fifteen minutes after Brad arrives. He looks between Adam and Tommy and spits red wine everywhere. He coughs and splutters and laughs full out. Then he goes serious and pins Adam with a hard stare. "It'll take more than romance and flowers."
Adam nods once. "I know."
"More than superb sex."
"I know that too, Bradley."
Brad's eyes dart between Adam and Tommy. "Don't fuck it up."
Adam's lip curl into a smile. "Tryin' not to."
Leila grins and bumps her shoulder with Eber's, Scarlett throws a towel at Brad and motions to the wine dotted along the table, and Lee pulls out his camera. Just like that everyone knows.
Tommy looks at Adam and shrugs, silently says so much for keeping it between them. Then he grins. Maybe Adam really does see the bigger picture after all.