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Summary
“You look very snug,” Lawrence says fondly, setting his cane down and taking a seat next to where Adam is lying. “Like a big burrito.”
He kisses the pile of blankets that Adam is buried under, right at the point where he must guess Adam’s head is.
Adam pokes his face out, looking at the older man with tearful eyes.
He must look like shit. He hasn’t showered, or put on deodorant, or brushed his hair. He knows his eyes must look puffy and his nose must be runny and his cheeks must be red from all the crying.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Lawrence says softly. “It’s been one of those days, huh?”
Adam doesn’t know what he finds more comforting. The fact that Lawrence immediately understands without Adam explaining himself, or the fact that Lawrence called him sweetheart.
OR
Five times Lawrence called Adam a pet name, and one time Adam did the same to Lawrence.