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It wasn’t that hard, telling yourself that your bro would never reprecipitate your feelings. It really wasn’t. The hard part, in Holster’s opinion, was thinking about how he would have to be okay with the fact that he and Rans were gonna grow up. They were gonna get out of college and Rans would go to grad school with the support of his happy girlfriend and Holster would be wherever the hell Ransom would be, helping the goddamn coral reef however he could like a fool. What a fool he was, what a stupid fool. A heartbroken, bitter fool.
Friday evening, intoxicated smiles, and a healthy couple. That was the start of how Adam Birkholtz realized he could relate to Adele even more than usual. As usual, Ransom had invited March over after classes and they were hanging out on the green health hazard in the living room, teasing and just overall enjoying themselves with a couple of bottles of, ironically, Holster’s favorite beer. Their voices became muddled together, and their eyes grew half-lidded after some time, their shared looks growing longer and longer by the moment, and Adam couldn’t take it. He stood up, walked over to Ransom, and put his hand on his shoulder, leaned down and started the sentence that was always the hypothetical death of him.
“Hey Rans,” he looked up, slightly aware of Adam’s warming hand.
“Yeah bro?” His eyes still dilated, Holster gave him the thumbs up.
“I’ll be crashing at Bits, the attic is yours tonight,” God, could words even feel even more horrible coming out of his mouth?
Half a moment passed, Justin’s mouth moved again, “Oh, thanks.”
~~~~~~~~~
Everything hurt, but somehow Holster was okay with it. Waking up with a sickly taste stuck to the roof of your mouth on your teammates floor wasn’t the best for anyone’s health, but at least he was used to it. Used to getting sexiled by his best friend turned hopeless love. He glanced over at Bitty’s bed, with one less blanket since he had apparently draped Holster in one of them during the night. With wood grain imprinted on the side of his face, Holster stood up, opened the door, and went to the attic, glasses haphazardly hanging on his face. Once inside the attic, Adam saw that any trace of Ransom’s and March’s night was gone, and he was honestly thankful for that. Scanning the room, he began walking over to his bed to lay down. To be honest, Adam felt like he needed to cry. It wasn’t one of those corny, full face, heart shattered cries, but one of his more ‘the only reason I’m crying is because I might just die so my eyes are flooding’ cries. After a couple moments, Adam recollected himself and started to dress himself for the day. He came down the stairs, and found that Ransom and March had gone out for a date, which was good, of course. Checking to make sure that everyone was out of the haus, at 2:43pm, Holster let go.
It was 6:01 when Bitty found him curled up near the fridge, bottles of his favorite beer scattered around him, tears streaked his flushed cheeks. Of course, he also had Adele’s 25 playing as well, tuning out Bitty’s arrival at the haus. Tip-toeing on the creaky floorboards, Bitty walked around the corner so Holster that couldn’t have seen him.
Of course, Holster then decided to sing along,
“Look, don’t get me wrong, I know there is no tomorrow-w, all I ask is-!” a broken sob interrupted him, cutting himself off. Again, he tried to sing,
“If, t-this is my-” he hiccuped, “last night with you.” He was getting off of tune now.
“Hold me like I’m more than j-just a friend. Give m-me a memory I can use!” He was close to yelling more than singing now, a broken heart tinged his lines. “Take me by the hand while we do what l-lovers do. It matters how this e-ends.” A full on sob now, Bitty was more shocked than he ever thought he could be by Adam’s actions.
“So what if I never love again?” Somehow, the last line Adam sung had become clearer than any of the other’s he had done, despite his obvious state. A cry erupted from him, evolving into a weary sob, sounding too familiar, too practiced to be the first time he had done this. By the time Adam had started sobbing, Nursey and Dex had caught up with Bitty and had also witnessed his heartbroken tribute. Bitty stepped into the kitchen,
“Holster.”
“B-Bits? You w-weren’t supposed to be back til six.”
“Honey, it is six.”
“O-oh my god Bitty I-I’m so sorry. I’m s-so so sorry”
“Adam, honey, you don’t have to be sorry for anything. How about we get you back to your bed? I can get Nursey and Dex to help you.”
“T-That’d be nice.”