Work Text:
The soft rays of sunlight filtered through the window panes into the living room of the house where Adam and Lawrence had been living together for three months. Three months since they had both escaped the deathly trap that had almost ended their lives in the most violent and torturous way Adam could have ever imagined. Three months had passed since Adam could not spend a single night without having the same recurring nightmare in which Lawrence never came back for him. The same nightmare that made him wake up covered in cold sweat, with short, lavored breaths, searching in the dark for the same arms that had accompanied him since the same day his life seemed to end.
It seemed to end, and yet, for Adam, it was the day he had truly begun to live. The day he had stopped being a walking corpse, thinking only of his own survival, making enough money to make ends meet with a full stomach, regardless of morality, regardless of what he conceived as something right or wrong. Three months since he had escaped all the invisible chains that had kept him underground.
The scorching heat burned his eyelids, which he kept closed while he continued lying on the couch in the house. It was July, and New York City had turned blue, with a constant hustle and bustle that strangely made Adam feel safer. However, there was nothing like Lawrence. Lawrence.
Adam lazily stood up and stretched, feeling his muscles relax, and reached out to pet the small cat that was dozing right next to him on the floor. Adam had spent almost three years of his life taking care of that animal, bringing him milk every time he finished his long hours of work, photographing people he had never cared about in the slightest. Thus, when he and Lawrence had decided to move in together to protect each other in case Kramer decided to attack them again, Lawrence agreed to legally adopt the cat simply because he knew how much it meant to Adam.
Suddenly, a slight noise made him look up at the door opening, revealing a blonde head dressed from head to toe in one of those expensive suits that Adam would never choose for himself. However, Lawrence did, and Adam would never deny how attractive the man looked in them.
"I'm home," Lawrence announced, the small cat letting go from Adam's leg to meet the other man, meowing softly when he leaned down to pet him behind the ears.
Adam, for his part, stood up and, without saying anything, covered his chest by crossing his arms over himself, hiding the scars adorning his torso. Although it was true that he and Lawrence had talked about very personal things since they moved in, from Adam's family problems, with an angry, alcoholic father and a mother who never accepted him for who he was, to when he dropped out of college when he had burnt out with the weight of not finding enough motivation to become a vet. Adam had simply told the doctor his mother would never have accepted a gay son, but he hadn't told him that, on top of it, Adam hadn't always looked the same way he did now.
"Hello," The photographer said, trying to find his shirt among the pile of clothes that he had left on his bed at the same time Lawrence half-entered his room, leaning against the door frame.
Lawrence frowned.
"Are you looking for something?" He said with a sarcastic tone in his voice as he watched how Adam, with his back towards him, threw piles of socks, underwear, and if he hadn't been a little more careful, his own camera into the air.
"I can't find my shirt," Adam explained, his tone of voice slightly annoyed. "The blue one, I don't know where it is."
Lawrence readjusted himself, still in the same spot, looking at him curiously. Suddenly he remembered.
"I put the washing machine on when you took it off, I think it’s still wet," The man explained in a tired voice. It had been a long day at the hospital, and Lawrence just wanted to sit on the couch, hug Adam, and maybe, if they both wanted to, have dinner together while watching one of those comedy films Adam enjoyed.
"What?" Adam asked, turning around abruptly to look Lawrence in the eyes, and covering the back of himself with his arms again. "You took my fucking shirt without telling me?"
Lawrence entered the room completely and sat on the soft mattress of Adam's bed, crossing his arms like he usually did when he was thinking. Adam really seemed upset, and Lawrence couldn't understand what was causing him such discomfort.
"Adam, relax," He said. Adam had told Lawrence about his anger issues, how he had inherited them from his own household. Lawrence understood it, and he never got upset when the younger man did. "Don't you have another one?"
“No,” He said dryly. “Well, I had two. That one and the one I was wearing when– Well, you know, and I had to fucking throw it away because I wasn't going to ever wear it again anyway.” Adam sighed, he probably should go out shopping more once in a while.
Lawrence took a few seconds before nodding.
“I'll leave you one of mines, although it will be quite big for you.” The man said, getting up from the bed with a big exhale, and caressed Adam's neck with his fingers as he walked past him towards his own room.
Adam felt a slight shiver run through his body from the contact of Lawrence's rough skin against his. Rough from so many surgical jobs, Adam thought, and wondered if he had ever had to operate on someone like him.
It didn't take long for Lawrence to return, bringing a gray t-shirt probably twice the size of the ones Adam normally wore. He handed it to him with a small smile on his lips, something he always did every time he looked at Adam.
Adam accepted it with slight reluctance, turning his back on him once more to put it on before Lawrence could see his chest.
“Adam, is there something you don't want me to see?” He asked him delicately. “Is it because of the scar?”
Adam and Lawrence had talked about it at the time, when they both thought their worlds were coming to an end, and how Lawrence had been basically forced to pull the trigger of the gun.
Lawrence had cried the first time they had met again, begging Adam to show him his wound, which had just been freshly healed and bandaged by the hospital doctors, while in another room on the same building, more doctors were struggling to stop the bleeding from the place where his foot had previously been. Adam had steadfastly refused to show it to him, claiming that he didn't want to make him feel guilty, but nevertheless, Lawrence was beginning to suspect that, perhaps, there was something more.
Adam didn't respond, not verbally, and just shook his head as he turned the shirt inside out, ready to put it on.
“Adam.” Lawrence called softly, and carefully grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn around to face him again.
The younger man simply remained silent as Lawrence lowered his eyes to his chest, observing the small, whitened indentation of the already healed scar that was on his shoulder, just below his collarbone, and looked down further, until he found two fine scars under his nipples, forming small semicircles that had also been healed for years.
Lawrence said nothing for a few seconds that seemed to last an eternity for Adam, and, with great smoothness, the older man traced both scars with his thumb, as if he were analysing them, calculating their age and their origin. After that, Lawrence frowned slightly, and without separating his hand from his skin, he looked into his eyes again, worry shining on them, and Adam, completely unaware of Lawrence's thoughts, was already thinking about the small range of places where he would be able to stay in until he found a new stable job.
To his surprise, Lawrence didn't seem angry or disgusted, there wasn't even a shadow of rejection inside of his blue eyes, but rather a small glint of appreciation and acceptance that he had never seen in anyone before, at least not when they looked at him. Lawrence would never cease to amaze him, Adam thought.
“You've never told me about these.” The man said softly, and Adam felt a small current of electricity as Lawrence continued to look at him with an intensity that fell somewhere between respect and curiosity.
Adam shrugged.
“I guess not,” He replied, trying to appear indifferent, something very difficult for Adam to feign. “Guess it just slipped my mind.”
Lawrence quickly shook his head.
“You didn't have to,” He assured. “It's just – I was afraid it was something bad. I don't know, you had me worried there."
Adam fell silent once again, but he took a deep breath anyway, obvious surprise in his gaze. This shouldn't faze him, though, should it? Lawrence had a daughter, and he was not an aggressive person like he himself was. No, Lawrence was calm, logical, and always coherent and understanding; But nevertheless, something had made Adam afraid, afraid of disappointing or displeasing Lawrence for something as intimate and personal as his transition was, which, even though Adam was much more than that, that was exactly the reason why he had had the biggest argument of his life with his parents, and therefore, the reason he had left home in the first place.
That was his biggest thorn, the only thing that could make Adam completely break down. He needed Lawrence to really see him; not in an obsessive or apprehensive way, but in a tender and accepting way, and he had been so long afraid that Lawrence would pull away from him when he found out about it that he had forgotten to use his own eyes to see that Lawrence did, indeed, love him. And that he wasn't going to leave him. Not like this.
Adam looked into his eyes again, shifting somewhat uncomfortably in his place.
“So,” Adam began. “You don’t care?" He asked, still mere inches apart from the man.
Lawrence placed his hand on his chin, caressing his cheek with his thumb, once again establishing that physical contact that drove Adam crazy.
He shook his head.
"I love you." Lawrence simply responded, still looking directly into his eyes, and his slightly long, blonde hair falling over his forehead in a way that made him look slightly younger than he was.
It was the first time he had said it out loud, which was obvious to the two of them since a small hint of embarrassment appeared in Lawrence's eyes, with a barely perceptible blush on his face.
After that, Adam smiled. Cheesy shithead, he thought, and without thinking it twice, he leaned forward, kissing Lawrence shyly, though it didn't take long until Lawrence wrapped his arms around Adam’s waist and pulled him even closer, causing Adam to tangle his fingers around the man’s hair. Lawrence bit Adam’s lower lip before breaking the kiss, and when they looked at each other again, both of them were smiling, Adam’s smile mostly due to Lawrence’s freshly disheveled hair.
“Well, love you too and all that.” Adam said, not even bothering to hide his cheerfulness. He had most definitely never felt more content in his life, and for once, Adam felt like he was finally being loved by someone else.
Lawrence rolled his eyes, still smiling, and Adam rejoiced on those two small dimples that appeared on his face every time he did.
“I’ll go make some dinner, all right?” The older man said, going towards the door again. “And put that shirt on before you catch a cold.”
Adam laughed and threw a small cushion at him as he exited the room.
“Fuck off, old man.” He replied, but grabbed the shirt and pulled it over his head. The shirt was enormously big for him, as expected, but it smelled like Lawrence, and Adam, for the first time in his life, felt like was finally at home.