Adam Hills/Hamish Blake - Running 1-3/3
May. 29th, 2006 10:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wolfanficsTITLE: Running
FANDOM/S: AusComedy
PAIRING/S: Adam Hills/Hamish Blake
WORDS: 4,274
PREVIOUS: A Very Specky Night: One | Two | Three | Four || Big Distraction: One | Two | Three
DISCLAIMER: I don’t know them, not associated with them, just a slashy fangirl admirer with a very active imagination.
SUMMARY: Adam and Hamish contemplate what they have and their future together.
Part One:
It’s been an intense few weeks. Both Adam and Hamish have found themselves very busy, so their time together is forced to be short, hard and fast, so to speak. They’ve learnt to make good use of the time they have together since neither feel brave enough to go out together as a couple yet. They haven’t dared tell anyone about their newfound love. All they need to know is that Hamish is staying at Adam’s til he finds a place of his own.
Despite this innocent façade, which seems reasonable enough to the casual observer, gossip spreads quietly like fog spreading across a city. Word has gotten around about Hamish being dumped by his girlfriend, and there’s talk that Adam’s the reason why. Well, Hamish ended up at Adam’s, didn’t he? There has to be a reason why, at least, there should be. And why run to him instead of other, closer friends? All this suspicion leads to all sorts of rumours, most made in jest, yet hiding an underlying seriousness not readily discussed. Both men deny these rumours whenever someone brings them up, but it makes for an ominous cloud hanging over them. Sooner or later, the truth would get out. These things never stay hidden forever. Someone somewhere eventually finds out.
It’s with this sense of looming trouble that Adam and Hamish sit down one night before dinner to talk. They’ve been careful to keep their relationship secret, but there’s always the chance someone will find out and spill the beans, what with all the rumours flying around. In spite of Adam knowing it probably won’t be a big issue if it does come out, he can’t help feeling scared. The last few weeks he’s had to face a lot of things he hadn’t wanted to deal with. He envies Hamish. He doesn’t seem as deeply troubled by all this as he is. Kissing guys is one thing; falling in love with them is something else entirely, something he was never completely comfortable with before all this happened.
“Hamish, how long do you think we can keep this secret for?” Adam says.
“As long as we need to, I’d wager. Why do you ask?” Hamish says, hearing the hesitation, the fear, in his voice.
“There’s been talk…” Adam says, his voice trailing off.
“Something wrong?”
“No, not necessarily, just… People are talking. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before someone works it out.”
“Why are you so worried about this? No one’s gonna come and crucify us, least I don’t think anyone will.”
“I envy how so not scared you are. I know I shouldn’t worry about it so much, but I can’t help it. I feel like I’m too old to be able to come out like this.”
“You’ve proved to me enough times that you’re not too old for anything,” Hamish says with a laugh.
“What if they hate us? What if everything goes horribly wrong? What then?” Adam says, ignoring Hamish’s light-hearted remark.
“You know them well enough. You don’t seriously think they’d suddenly go crazy mad, grab their pitchforks and charge after us, do you?”
“Well, perhaps not,” Adam says with a sigh. “It’s just not something that’s really happened. I know some won’t mind, but others I’m not sure about. Besides, I’m still not sure if all this makes me gay now or not.”
“It doesn’t have to make us gay. I-I mean, I don’t think I am, am I? Are we? I mean-” Hamish sighs. “Look, I’m still working all this out. Being attracted to a guy isn’t easy to make sense of, I’m sure you know that. Do we even have to be open about it at all? Is it any of their business?”
“For some, it will be. We’ll have to tell some people. We can’t get away with keeping this secret from everyone,” Adam says. “Your mate, for one. I’ve heard he’s angry with you.”
“Forget about him. I’ve already told him,” Hamish says sharply, turning away from Adam.
“You told him?”
“Yeah. He wanted to know why I went to you first, you know, when she dumped me. He kinda forced it out of me. Sorry bout that.”
“It’s alright. He has a right to know, don’t you think?”
“I suppose so. I just wanted to tell him on my terms, not when he’s got me cornered, that’s all.”
“Is he gonna tell? Because I’d hate for him to spread this everywhere.”
“I asked him to keep it to himself, least for the moment. We’ll tell when we’re ready, right?”
“Yeah, when we’re ready,” Adam says, sounding rather dejected.
“What’s wrong now?”
“A part of me wants to keep it secret until we’ve worked everything out, but then I think that’ll never come, that we’ll never have this sorted out. I just don’t know how to deal with this. Are we planning to be together forever? Or are we gonna end up drifting apart in a year’s time when the thrill has worn off?”
“No one can know that, Adam. Are you doubting this already? Don’t you want me now? Don’t you love me? Don’t you care about me?”
“I do, Hamish, don’t you ever doubt that, it’s just… Why does this have to be so fucking difficult?” Adam says, walking away from Hamish.
“Adam?” Hamish comes to stand behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder.
“Fuck off. Just leave me alone, alright?” Adam says, brushing past Hamish to shut himself in his bedroom.
The door slams shut, and the flat suddenly feels very empty again. A chill goes up Hamish’s spine when he hears something smashing.
“Are you giving up on me already?” Hamish says, staring after him, afraid this is all going to be over before it’s even begun.
With a sigh, Hamish returns to the couch, curling up to watch some TV as a distraction. He doesn’t dare enter the bedroom, instead contenting himself with watching TV while he waits for Adam to emerge on his own. Hamish doesn’t want to push him before he’s ready.
Part Two:
In the bedroom, the shattered remains of the vase lie on the floor- aptly symbolic of his life. At least he knows that part of his life is over now. The vase is one of the few things left over from his previous relationship. They’d been together for years, it had gotten to the point where he found it hard to believe he’d ever be with anyone else, and then it had ended, and she’d left him alone in his flat. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t thrown it out earlier, or, indeed, why it had been left behind in the first place. He had no use for it. He isn’t a flowers type person anyway. You buy them and then watch them slowly die. What’s the point? Better to enjoy them when they’re alive and still in the ground.
He looks at the broken glass again. He hadn’t meant to smash it. He’d stormed into his room, slamming the door behind him, angry at himself for not being able to articulate his thoughts into coherent speech. He was trying to tell Hamish what he’s wanted to tell him for the last few weeks, but every time he tries, the words just won’t come out properly. He let off his anger by throwing a cushion across the room. It just happened to collide with the vase, sending it smashing to the floor. He feels a small pang of regret at seeing it smashed so, but really, he’s glad it’s smashed. Finally, he has an excuse to get rid of it. He hadn’t really liked it anyway, but who was he to deny her when she wanted it so much?
Standing by the window, staring out at the grey city all around him, he wonders how they’d gotten to this state. Things had started out so beautiful and fragile, much like that vase, but it had taken little to send them both crashing to the ground. How had things gone so horribly wrong? Just as he finds someone he never wants to let go of, he finds himself running away faster than his brain can explain why. Why is he running from something his heart wants more than he can say?
Adam sits on his bed in the darkness, not sure what it is exactly he’s feeling. He looks towards the door when he hears the TV before quickly ignoring it. He buries his face in his hands, trying to fight away the overwhelming feeling of numbness that’s crept up on him.
“Fuck. I hate this fear. There’s no one else I want in my life. If I knew no one was going to care, everything would be fine. Why doesn’t he understand how hard this is for me?” he says in the same quiet voice, angrily hitting the bed with a clenched fist.
He sighs. He’s scared. The last few months have brought up a cacophony of emotions he’d never expected he’d ever have to deal with. Brand new territory. Every time he looks at his lover – is that even the right word? – a part of him knows it’s right, that their love is right, but he’s still scared.
He’s in love with another man, a younger man. Is he in love with him? Yes. How can he even doubt that now? He’s never felt like this with another man before in all his life. There’s nothing he doesn’t love about him: his cute smile, his silly hair, his soft lips, how he so often lets Adam take charge, the way he cuddles up to him at night, how he’s taken over the kitchen.
Adam smiles, remembering the first time Hamish had cooked for him. He’d been asleep, only to wake up to find the smell of something wonderful being cooked. Hamish had woken first and had even done some shopping as well. He’d gone and set the table too, oh, it was beautiful. He may not have shown it, but Adam had been thrilled by this small gesture. He hadn’t realised he knew how to cook, and the meal had been delicious. He felt a bit guilty as he wondered how he’d repay him for such a wonderful meal.
As it turned out, he didn’t have to. Hamish insisted on it. It was his contribution, he said, since he was living with him now. He’d pay rent as well, but cooking was his gift, it seemed. And Adam was more than willing to let him take over the kitchen. He couldn’t have stopped him even if he wanted to. Hamish refused to let Adam talk him out of it.
That steadfast refusal and determination to disobey is something Adam loves about Hamish. Playful and hardly ever serious, Hamish often comes across as somewhat childlike, but Adam knows there’s a more serious side hidden away underneath that cheerful persona. He’s seen it. Still, sometimes he feels he really is looking after a child, and at that thought, he reminds himself he almost is. Hamish isn’t that young, that would be wrong, but every now and then, their age difference feels blatantly obvious.
Hamish looks up to him, willing him to guide him, to walk with him through life. Sometimes, Adam feels Hamish has become too dependant on him, but then Hamish does something to change his mind, leaving Adam slightly confused but satisfied he’s still capable of looking after himself. Adam wonders if it’s just him being overprotective. He does look out for him, and Hamish does seem quite willing to let Adam take charge and make decisions for them. And if Adam refuses something Hamish wants, all he has to do is beg and Adam’s refusal melts away. The way he looks at him gets him every time, those blue-grey eyes of his so innocent, so pleading, and the way he asks, “Please, Adam, I’m begging you” – he’s always serious in spite of the small grin crossing his lips, Adam finds it hard to resist him, and finds himself hard as a result. It’s quite the turn on, Adam discovers.
At this, Adam’s thoughts return to the kiss that had triggered the events of the last few months. It had all been so quick, all over before he had time to process his actions. Yet, he never regretted it. He remembers that first night they spent together, drunk as they were, how it changed everything, then the lonely weeks wondering if it hadn’t all been a big mistake before they were finally brought together at last.
He sighs dejectedly, taking a handful of roasted peanuts and throwing them into his mouth. They help calm him, in spite of the tears making their way down his cheeks quickly brushed away with the back of his hand. He glances at the closed door in front of him, shutting out whatever Hamish is doing on the other side of it. He can still hear the TV blaring, though he isn’t sure what’s on. He doesn’t care anyway.
He stands up, pacing around his room, not sure what to do. After a few minutes’ pacing, he decides to have a shower, help wash the anger away. It’s one time he’s glad his bedroom opens onto the bathroom so he doesn’t have to see Hamish. Shutting himself in, he stands under the hot water, letting his doubts, his fears, his anger wash away.
Everything happens for a reason, does it? How else to explain why I’m so obsessed with him? I want him. I want him by my side, my arms around him, never without him. I can’t remember ever being so in love with anyone else before. I can’t hide what I feel for him. I don’t want to hide what I feel for him. Does it matter what anyone else thinks?
He sighs, his eyes gazing out the dirty window and the orange light competing with the artificial light in the bathroom. He rests an arm against the sill, lost in thought again.
I’d be lying to myself if I had to pretend to be anything else to him except his lover. Is there anything left to do but embrace our love, world be damned? I won’t lose him now. I refuse to let other people dictate who I can and can’t love. If they hate me for it, so be it. I can live without their approval.
Can I?
I have to. I mustn’t be afraid. I need to be strong for him. I won’t give him up for anyone, no matter what anyone says or does. I’ve never done this before, but I’d rather die than live without him. I’ll find the strength to do this, even if it kills me.
His gaze leaves the window and catches sight of the single yellow daisy in a glass sitting on the bench top. He pushes the shower curtain open to get a better look at it, reaching out to grab the flower. He’d never understood the point of flowers, but he’d been walking around the park one morning and that flower had caught his eye. It reminded him of Hamish for some reason. He wasn’t sure why, but he picked it and took it home with him without even thinking twice about it.
He hadn’t meant for Hamish to see it, but he didn’t have a chance to hide it before he’d spotted it. He felt a bit silly for bringing a flower home because it reminded him of Hamish, it seemed rather girly to him once he’d realised he’d actually picked it and had brought it home. Still, he wasn’t sure if Hamish had really appreciated it or whether he was just pretending to so he didn’t upset him. Somehow, the bathroom seemed the right place for it.
He puts the daisy back in its glass, turns the shower off, and wraps a towel around his waist. He stares at his reflection, unable to see himself without Hamish. There he is, standing behind him, his arms loosely around him, his head slumped against his shoulder. He sighs, watching the image vanish. He picks up the small flower again, gazing at the bright yellow petals and the dark brown centre. How very like Hamish this insignificant flower is: bright and cheery on the outside, but dark and serious on the inside. He sighs, crushing the flower in his hand, and throws it away, trying not to cry. He doesn’t want to look at it anymore.
He retreats into his bedroom, discarding the towel but not bothering to pull any clothes on, curling up under the covers in his bed, wishing he could just settle his worried mind enough to give all of himself to Hamish. His worry is nothing but a distraction, intruding into his mind. He pulls the pillow against his chest, staring out at nothing, his mind unable to rest. He stays there in the silence, trying to rationalise the love that’s taken over his life.
Part Three:
Out in the living room, Hamish gets up off the couch, sick of watching inane television. He wanders around the room, stopping in the bathroom door. He’d heard the shower running before, though the bathroom is vacant now. The city lights shine dimly through the large dirty window above the bath. Hamish stands in the bathroom doorway, the memories of their time together running through his head. The first time they’d showered together, the time Adam had given him a bath when he’d got caught in the rain and he’d warmed him up oh so wonderfully, that time when they…
Hamish smiles. All the memories are here. That dirty window seems oddly symbolic now. There isn’t much light getting through that window; much like there isn’t much coming through from his lover.
The bathroom is dark now, the tap dripping slowly, the towels drying on the rail, everything set in its place as it should be. Looking around, he spots the small yellow daisy lying crumpled on the floor. Feeling slightly crushed at seeing it discarded, he walks into the room, picking up the flower. A finger gently brushes the broken petals, his mind wondering what had caused Adam to crush it.
Surely this doesn’t mean – no, he would’ve said something, wouldn’t he? Don’t you go and do something stupid, Adam. I don’t want to lose you, not now, not after everything we’ve been through to get here.
Hamish shakes himself of such thoughts. “No, there’s nothing foreboding about this. It’s just a stupid crushed daisy, for crying out loud,” he says quietly. He’s surprised at his sentimental attachment to it. Perhaps that flower means something after all. Well, he had been touched when Adam had shown him the flower. He smiles, remembering the morning Adam had brought it home.
He had started making breakfast when Adam had returned with the flower. Hamish had teased him about it, though he did think it was sweet of him.
“What’s this? You bring me not a bunch of red roses but a small yellow daisy? I’m heartbroken,” Hamish had said with a laugh, grabbing the flower from his grasp before Adam could stop him.
“It’s stupid, I know. I don’t know why I picked it. It just reminded me of you. It’s just a stupid daisy,” Adam had said, embarrassed, not bothering to snatch it back.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. I think it’s cute. A little silly, sure, but cute nonetheless,” Hamish had said.
Hamish had pulled him into a kiss, wanting to reassure him he wasn’t actually mad at him. With a smile, he’d left the flower in a glass of water as he’d joined him at the table for breakfast.
Smiling at the memory, he looks down at the crushed flower in his hand. His fingers close around it, almost as if he doesn’t want to throw it away. He turns back to the living room, his eyes drawn to the TV again. He sits down on the couch, watching whatever’s on at that moment, something about an owner and their disobedient puppy. The voices drone on, becoming nothing more than background noise, the flower still clutched in his hand.
He isn’t sure why he’s still holding the flower. Every now and then, he glances down at it, seeing it crushed and wondering what had caused Adam to do so. He’s almost sad to see it like this, the petals bent and torn, the centre ripped apart, the stem broken. It’s just a small stupid daisy, but Hamish is surprised at how much it suddenly means to him.
He sits in front of the TV, his mind not wanting to think about their argument. Well, it wasn’t exactly an argument, more a disagreement. Maybe more of a… Hamish can’t think of the right word. They hadn’t yelled or anything, but Adam was clearly scared and upset. He’d tried to get him to talk about it, but he’d stormed off and shut himself in his room.
His life had gotten so complicated these past few months, all because of a stupid kiss. He’d never asked for any of this to happen, hell, his girlfriend had dumped him because she suspected he didn’t care for her anymore, but even if he could go back and change things, he knew he’d do it exactly the same way. He’d still abandon her, let his heart embrace this man he’d looked up to for so long, he’d still be sitting here confused, working out what the last few weeks had been exactly.
No relationship he’d ever been in feels as right as this one does, but a part of him worries. He’d never expected to fall in love with a man, but he had. He can’t change that. It’d be too hard to change that. He feels like he’d die if he lost him now. They’ve been together almost a month and the strength of their bond astounds him. In such a short amount of time, they’ve become inseparable. He even carries a small photograph of them both with him everywhere, a small reminder of home.
But, this relationship feels so very different from the rest. How do you have a relationship like this with another man? He isn’t sure if what he’s doing is right, despite Adam’s reassurance. The only thing he knows for certain is that he wants to be with Adam. Of that he’s sure. Everything else seems less significant, less important, in that light. Does it matter what he is, as long as he has Adam by his side? Not really.
He isn’t sure why he really isn’t bothered by this, but he never dwells on it long. Perhaps it’s because he found it hard to consider himself gay, since Adam’s the only guy he’ll ever want. The only guy he’ll ever want? Hamish decides not to make a firm call on that. If he’s still with Adam in a year’s time, and they don’t hate each other, he’ll consider himself very lucky. But, still, he doesn’t quite think that qualifies as gay, only being attracted to one man. Yet, at the same time, it is another man he’s fallen so in love with, and for some reason that makes him wonder why, of all the people in the world to fall for, it had to be a guy, and it had to be him.
His thoughts again turn to Adam shut in his bedroom. A part of him wants to go and see if Adam’s alright, but another part says he should just sit tight and wait for Adam to sort himself out. If he doesn’t want to talk, he won’t, not til he’s ready.
Hamish hasn’t seen him for a while now. He remembers hearing something smashing, though it’s the only sound he’s heard since Adam retreated into his bedroom. Several times, he gets up and walks over to the bedroom, placing a hand on the door as if to enter, only to walk back over to the couch and sit down again, frustrated.
He’d gotten hungry and had made them both some dinner. Still not seeing any sign of Adam, Hamish decides to bring his dinner to him. If anything, he’d be doing something instead of moping around doing nothing. Walking over to the bedroom, bringing their meals in on a tray, he opens the door into the dark room, seeing Adam curled up under the covers. He sets the tray down on the bedside table before crawling into bed next to him, bringing him round to face him. He smiles, wiping a tear away from Adam’s eye.
“Hey,” Hamish says.
“Sorry,” Adam says.
“Doesn’t matter,” Hamish says. “Still love you.”
Adam smiles at him, brushing a finger down his lover’s cheek. “Love you too,” he says.
“I brought dinner,” Hamish says.
“Good thing I’m hungry then,” Adam says.
Adam sits up as Hamish hands him his dinner. Nothing more needs to be said. They both understand what those few words really mean. They eat their dinner in relative quiet. Adam waits patiently as Hamish cleans up in the kitchen, lost in his own thoughts. When Hamish returns, they exchange a gentle kiss, and they lie there in each other’s arms in the silence, knowing everything’s alright again, at least for the moment. Hamish snuggles into Adam, resting his head against his chest. Adam strokes his hair gently, one arm wrapped protectively around him. Hamish lies there listening to the sound of Adam’s heart beating, knowing he’s exactly where he wants to be.
FANDOM/S: AusComedy
PAIRING/S: Adam Hills/Hamish Blake
WORDS: 4,274
PREVIOUS: A Very Specky Night: One | Two | Three | Four || Big Distraction: One | Two | Three
DISCLAIMER: I don’t know them, not associated with them, just a slashy fangirl admirer with a very active imagination.
SUMMARY: Adam and Hamish contemplate what they have and their future together.
Part One:
It’s been an intense few weeks. Both Adam and Hamish have found themselves very busy, so their time together is forced to be short, hard and fast, so to speak. They’ve learnt to make good use of the time they have together since neither feel brave enough to go out together as a couple yet. They haven’t dared tell anyone about their newfound love. All they need to know is that Hamish is staying at Adam’s til he finds a place of his own.
Despite this innocent façade, which seems reasonable enough to the casual observer, gossip spreads quietly like fog spreading across a city. Word has gotten around about Hamish being dumped by his girlfriend, and there’s talk that Adam’s the reason why. Well, Hamish ended up at Adam’s, didn’t he? There has to be a reason why, at least, there should be. And why run to him instead of other, closer friends? All this suspicion leads to all sorts of rumours, most made in jest, yet hiding an underlying seriousness not readily discussed. Both men deny these rumours whenever someone brings them up, but it makes for an ominous cloud hanging over them. Sooner or later, the truth would get out. These things never stay hidden forever. Someone somewhere eventually finds out.
It’s with this sense of looming trouble that Adam and Hamish sit down one night before dinner to talk. They’ve been careful to keep their relationship secret, but there’s always the chance someone will find out and spill the beans, what with all the rumours flying around. In spite of Adam knowing it probably won’t be a big issue if it does come out, he can’t help feeling scared. The last few weeks he’s had to face a lot of things he hadn’t wanted to deal with. He envies Hamish. He doesn’t seem as deeply troubled by all this as he is. Kissing guys is one thing; falling in love with them is something else entirely, something he was never completely comfortable with before all this happened.
“Hamish, how long do you think we can keep this secret for?” Adam says.
“As long as we need to, I’d wager. Why do you ask?” Hamish says, hearing the hesitation, the fear, in his voice.
“There’s been talk…” Adam says, his voice trailing off.
“Something wrong?”
“No, not necessarily, just… People are talking. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before someone works it out.”
“Why are you so worried about this? No one’s gonna come and crucify us, least I don’t think anyone will.”
“I envy how so not scared you are. I know I shouldn’t worry about it so much, but I can’t help it. I feel like I’m too old to be able to come out like this.”
“You’ve proved to me enough times that you’re not too old for anything,” Hamish says with a laugh.
“What if they hate us? What if everything goes horribly wrong? What then?” Adam says, ignoring Hamish’s light-hearted remark.
“You know them well enough. You don’t seriously think they’d suddenly go crazy mad, grab their pitchforks and charge after us, do you?”
“Well, perhaps not,” Adam says with a sigh. “It’s just not something that’s really happened. I know some won’t mind, but others I’m not sure about. Besides, I’m still not sure if all this makes me gay now or not.”
“It doesn’t have to make us gay. I-I mean, I don’t think I am, am I? Are we? I mean-” Hamish sighs. “Look, I’m still working all this out. Being attracted to a guy isn’t easy to make sense of, I’m sure you know that. Do we even have to be open about it at all? Is it any of their business?”
“For some, it will be. We’ll have to tell some people. We can’t get away with keeping this secret from everyone,” Adam says. “Your mate, for one. I’ve heard he’s angry with you.”
“Forget about him. I’ve already told him,” Hamish says sharply, turning away from Adam.
“You told him?”
“Yeah. He wanted to know why I went to you first, you know, when she dumped me. He kinda forced it out of me. Sorry bout that.”
“It’s alright. He has a right to know, don’t you think?”
“I suppose so. I just wanted to tell him on my terms, not when he’s got me cornered, that’s all.”
“Is he gonna tell? Because I’d hate for him to spread this everywhere.”
“I asked him to keep it to himself, least for the moment. We’ll tell when we’re ready, right?”
“Yeah, when we’re ready,” Adam says, sounding rather dejected.
“What’s wrong now?”
“A part of me wants to keep it secret until we’ve worked everything out, but then I think that’ll never come, that we’ll never have this sorted out. I just don’t know how to deal with this. Are we planning to be together forever? Or are we gonna end up drifting apart in a year’s time when the thrill has worn off?”
“No one can know that, Adam. Are you doubting this already? Don’t you want me now? Don’t you love me? Don’t you care about me?”
“I do, Hamish, don’t you ever doubt that, it’s just… Why does this have to be so fucking difficult?” Adam says, walking away from Hamish.
“Adam?” Hamish comes to stand behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder.
“Fuck off. Just leave me alone, alright?” Adam says, brushing past Hamish to shut himself in his bedroom.
The door slams shut, and the flat suddenly feels very empty again. A chill goes up Hamish’s spine when he hears something smashing.
“Are you giving up on me already?” Hamish says, staring after him, afraid this is all going to be over before it’s even begun.
With a sigh, Hamish returns to the couch, curling up to watch some TV as a distraction. He doesn’t dare enter the bedroom, instead contenting himself with watching TV while he waits for Adam to emerge on his own. Hamish doesn’t want to push him before he’s ready.
Part Two:
In the bedroom, the shattered remains of the vase lie on the floor- aptly symbolic of his life. At least he knows that part of his life is over now. The vase is one of the few things left over from his previous relationship. They’d been together for years, it had gotten to the point where he found it hard to believe he’d ever be with anyone else, and then it had ended, and she’d left him alone in his flat. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t thrown it out earlier, or, indeed, why it had been left behind in the first place. He had no use for it. He isn’t a flowers type person anyway. You buy them and then watch them slowly die. What’s the point? Better to enjoy them when they’re alive and still in the ground.
He looks at the broken glass again. He hadn’t meant to smash it. He’d stormed into his room, slamming the door behind him, angry at himself for not being able to articulate his thoughts into coherent speech. He was trying to tell Hamish what he’s wanted to tell him for the last few weeks, but every time he tries, the words just won’t come out properly. He let off his anger by throwing a cushion across the room. It just happened to collide with the vase, sending it smashing to the floor. He feels a small pang of regret at seeing it smashed so, but really, he’s glad it’s smashed. Finally, he has an excuse to get rid of it. He hadn’t really liked it anyway, but who was he to deny her when she wanted it so much?
Standing by the window, staring out at the grey city all around him, he wonders how they’d gotten to this state. Things had started out so beautiful and fragile, much like that vase, but it had taken little to send them both crashing to the ground. How had things gone so horribly wrong? Just as he finds someone he never wants to let go of, he finds himself running away faster than his brain can explain why. Why is he running from something his heart wants more than he can say?
Adam sits on his bed in the darkness, not sure what it is exactly he’s feeling. He looks towards the door when he hears the TV before quickly ignoring it. He buries his face in his hands, trying to fight away the overwhelming feeling of numbness that’s crept up on him.
“Fuck. I hate this fear. There’s no one else I want in my life. If I knew no one was going to care, everything would be fine. Why doesn’t he understand how hard this is for me?” he says in the same quiet voice, angrily hitting the bed with a clenched fist.
He sighs. He’s scared. The last few months have brought up a cacophony of emotions he’d never expected he’d ever have to deal with. Brand new territory. Every time he looks at his lover – is that even the right word? – a part of him knows it’s right, that their love is right, but he’s still scared.
He’s in love with another man, a younger man. Is he in love with him? Yes. How can he even doubt that now? He’s never felt like this with another man before in all his life. There’s nothing he doesn’t love about him: his cute smile, his silly hair, his soft lips, how he so often lets Adam take charge, the way he cuddles up to him at night, how he’s taken over the kitchen.
Adam smiles, remembering the first time Hamish had cooked for him. He’d been asleep, only to wake up to find the smell of something wonderful being cooked. Hamish had woken first and had even done some shopping as well. He’d gone and set the table too, oh, it was beautiful. He may not have shown it, but Adam had been thrilled by this small gesture. He hadn’t realised he knew how to cook, and the meal had been delicious. He felt a bit guilty as he wondered how he’d repay him for such a wonderful meal.
As it turned out, he didn’t have to. Hamish insisted on it. It was his contribution, he said, since he was living with him now. He’d pay rent as well, but cooking was his gift, it seemed. And Adam was more than willing to let him take over the kitchen. He couldn’t have stopped him even if he wanted to. Hamish refused to let Adam talk him out of it.
That steadfast refusal and determination to disobey is something Adam loves about Hamish. Playful and hardly ever serious, Hamish often comes across as somewhat childlike, but Adam knows there’s a more serious side hidden away underneath that cheerful persona. He’s seen it. Still, sometimes he feels he really is looking after a child, and at that thought, he reminds himself he almost is. Hamish isn’t that young, that would be wrong, but every now and then, their age difference feels blatantly obvious.
Hamish looks up to him, willing him to guide him, to walk with him through life. Sometimes, Adam feels Hamish has become too dependant on him, but then Hamish does something to change his mind, leaving Adam slightly confused but satisfied he’s still capable of looking after himself. Adam wonders if it’s just him being overprotective. He does look out for him, and Hamish does seem quite willing to let Adam take charge and make decisions for them. And if Adam refuses something Hamish wants, all he has to do is beg and Adam’s refusal melts away. The way he looks at him gets him every time, those blue-grey eyes of his so innocent, so pleading, and the way he asks, “Please, Adam, I’m begging you” – he’s always serious in spite of the small grin crossing his lips, Adam finds it hard to resist him, and finds himself hard as a result. It’s quite the turn on, Adam discovers.
At this, Adam’s thoughts return to the kiss that had triggered the events of the last few months. It had all been so quick, all over before he had time to process his actions. Yet, he never regretted it. He remembers that first night they spent together, drunk as they were, how it changed everything, then the lonely weeks wondering if it hadn’t all been a big mistake before they were finally brought together at last.
He sighs dejectedly, taking a handful of roasted peanuts and throwing them into his mouth. They help calm him, in spite of the tears making their way down his cheeks quickly brushed away with the back of his hand. He glances at the closed door in front of him, shutting out whatever Hamish is doing on the other side of it. He can still hear the TV blaring, though he isn’t sure what’s on. He doesn’t care anyway.
He stands up, pacing around his room, not sure what to do. After a few minutes’ pacing, he decides to have a shower, help wash the anger away. It’s one time he’s glad his bedroom opens onto the bathroom so he doesn’t have to see Hamish. Shutting himself in, he stands under the hot water, letting his doubts, his fears, his anger wash away.
Everything happens for a reason, does it? How else to explain why I’m so obsessed with him? I want him. I want him by my side, my arms around him, never without him. I can’t remember ever being so in love with anyone else before. I can’t hide what I feel for him. I don’t want to hide what I feel for him. Does it matter what anyone else thinks?
He sighs, his eyes gazing out the dirty window and the orange light competing with the artificial light in the bathroom. He rests an arm against the sill, lost in thought again.
I’d be lying to myself if I had to pretend to be anything else to him except his lover. Is there anything left to do but embrace our love, world be damned? I won’t lose him now. I refuse to let other people dictate who I can and can’t love. If they hate me for it, so be it. I can live without their approval.
Can I?
I have to. I mustn’t be afraid. I need to be strong for him. I won’t give him up for anyone, no matter what anyone says or does. I’ve never done this before, but I’d rather die than live without him. I’ll find the strength to do this, even if it kills me.
His gaze leaves the window and catches sight of the single yellow daisy in a glass sitting on the bench top. He pushes the shower curtain open to get a better look at it, reaching out to grab the flower. He’d never understood the point of flowers, but he’d been walking around the park one morning and that flower had caught his eye. It reminded him of Hamish for some reason. He wasn’t sure why, but he picked it and took it home with him without even thinking twice about it.
He hadn’t meant for Hamish to see it, but he didn’t have a chance to hide it before he’d spotted it. He felt a bit silly for bringing a flower home because it reminded him of Hamish, it seemed rather girly to him once he’d realised he’d actually picked it and had brought it home. Still, he wasn’t sure if Hamish had really appreciated it or whether he was just pretending to so he didn’t upset him. Somehow, the bathroom seemed the right place for it.
He puts the daisy back in its glass, turns the shower off, and wraps a towel around his waist. He stares at his reflection, unable to see himself without Hamish. There he is, standing behind him, his arms loosely around him, his head slumped against his shoulder. He sighs, watching the image vanish. He picks up the small flower again, gazing at the bright yellow petals and the dark brown centre. How very like Hamish this insignificant flower is: bright and cheery on the outside, but dark and serious on the inside. He sighs, crushing the flower in his hand, and throws it away, trying not to cry. He doesn’t want to look at it anymore.
He retreats into his bedroom, discarding the towel but not bothering to pull any clothes on, curling up under the covers in his bed, wishing he could just settle his worried mind enough to give all of himself to Hamish. His worry is nothing but a distraction, intruding into his mind. He pulls the pillow against his chest, staring out at nothing, his mind unable to rest. He stays there in the silence, trying to rationalise the love that’s taken over his life.
Part Three:
Out in the living room, Hamish gets up off the couch, sick of watching inane television. He wanders around the room, stopping in the bathroom door. He’d heard the shower running before, though the bathroom is vacant now. The city lights shine dimly through the large dirty window above the bath. Hamish stands in the bathroom doorway, the memories of their time together running through his head. The first time they’d showered together, the time Adam had given him a bath when he’d got caught in the rain and he’d warmed him up oh so wonderfully, that time when they…
Hamish smiles. All the memories are here. That dirty window seems oddly symbolic now. There isn’t much light getting through that window; much like there isn’t much coming through from his lover.
The bathroom is dark now, the tap dripping slowly, the towels drying on the rail, everything set in its place as it should be. Looking around, he spots the small yellow daisy lying crumpled on the floor. Feeling slightly crushed at seeing it discarded, he walks into the room, picking up the flower. A finger gently brushes the broken petals, his mind wondering what had caused Adam to crush it.
Surely this doesn’t mean – no, he would’ve said something, wouldn’t he? Don’t you go and do something stupid, Adam. I don’t want to lose you, not now, not after everything we’ve been through to get here.
Hamish shakes himself of such thoughts. “No, there’s nothing foreboding about this. It’s just a stupid crushed daisy, for crying out loud,” he says quietly. He’s surprised at his sentimental attachment to it. Perhaps that flower means something after all. Well, he had been touched when Adam had shown him the flower. He smiles, remembering the morning Adam had brought it home.
He had started making breakfast when Adam had returned with the flower. Hamish had teased him about it, though he did think it was sweet of him.
“What’s this? You bring me not a bunch of red roses but a small yellow daisy? I’m heartbroken,” Hamish had said with a laugh, grabbing the flower from his grasp before Adam could stop him.
“It’s stupid, I know. I don’t know why I picked it. It just reminded me of you. It’s just a stupid daisy,” Adam had said, embarrassed, not bothering to snatch it back.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. I think it’s cute. A little silly, sure, but cute nonetheless,” Hamish had said.
Hamish had pulled him into a kiss, wanting to reassure him he wasn’t actually mad at him. With a smile, he’d left the flower in a glass of water as he’d joined him at the table for breakfast.
Smiling at the memory, he looks down at the crushed flower in his hand. His fingers close around it, almost as if he doesn’t want to throw it away. He turns back to the living room, his eyes drawn to the TV again. He sits down on the couch, watching whatever’s on at that moment, something about an owner and their disobedient puppy. The voices drone on, becoming nothing more than background noise, the flower still clutched in his hand.
He isn’t sure why he’s still holding the flower. Every now and then, he glances down at it, seeing it crushed and wondering what had caused Adam to do so. He’s almost sad to see it like this, the petals bent and torn, the centre ripped apart, the stem broken. It’s just a small stupid daisy, but Hamish is surprised at how much it suddenly means to him.
He sits in front of the TV, his mind not wanting to think about their argument. Well, it wasn’t exactly an argument, more a disagreement. Maybe more of a… Hamish can’t think of the right word. They hadn’t yelled or anything, but Adam was clearly scared and upset. He’d tried to get him to talk about it, but he’d stormed off and shut himself in his room.
His life had gotten so complicated these past few months, all because of a stupid kiss. He’d never asked for any of this to happen, hell, his girlfriend had dumped him because she suspected he didn’t care for her anymore, but even if he could go back and change things, he knew he’d do it exactly the same way. He’d still abandon her, let his heart embrace this man he’d looked up to for so long, he’d still be sitting here confused, working out what the last few weeks had been exactly.
No relationship he’d ever been in feels as right as this one does, but a part of him worries. He’d never expected to fall in love with a man, but he had. He can’t change that. It’d be too hard to change that. He feels like he’d die if he lost him now. They’ve been together almost a month and the strength of their bond astounds him. In such a short amount of time, they’ve become inseparable. He even carries a small photograph of them both with him everywhere, a small reminder of home.
But, this relationship feels so very different from the rest. How do you have a relationship like this with another man? He isn’t sure if what he’s doing is right, despite Adam’s reassurance. The only thing he knows for certain is that he wants to be with Adam. Of that he’s sure. Everything else seems less significant, less important, in that light. Does it matter what he is, as long as he has Adam by his side? Not really.
He isn’t sure why he really isn’t bothered by this, but he never dwells on it long. Perhaps it’s because he found it hard to consider himself gay, since Adam’s the only guy he’ll ever want. The only guy he’ll ever want? Hamish decides not to make a firm call on that. If he’s still with Adam in a year’s time, and they don’t hate each other, he’ll consider himself very lucky. But, still, he doesn’t quite think that qualifies as gay, only being attracted to one man. Yet, at the same time, it is another man he’s fallen so in love with, and for some reason that makes him wonder why, of all the people in the world to fall for, it had to be a guy, and it had to be him.
His thoughts again turn to Adam shut in his bedroom. A part of him wants to go and see if Adam’s alright, but another part says he should just sit tight and wait for Adam to sort himself out. If he doesn’t want to talk, he won’t, not til he’s ready.
Hamish hasn’t seen him for a while now. He remembers hearing something smashing, though it’s the only sound he’s heard since Adam retreated into his bedroom. Several times, he gets up and walks over to the bedroom, placing a hand on the door as if to enter, only to walk back over to the couch and sit down again, frustrated.
He’d gotten hungry and had made them both some dinner. Still not seeing any sign of Adam, Hamish decides to bring his dinner to him. If anything, he’d be doing something instead of moping around doing nothing. Walking over to the bedroom, bringing their meals in on a tray, he opens the door into the dark room, seeing Adam curled up under the covers. He sets the tray down on the bedside table before crawling into bed next to him, bringing him round to face him. He smiles, wiping a tear away from Adam’s eye.
“Hey,” Hamish says.
“Sorry,” Adam says.
“Doesn’t matter,” Hamish says. “Still love you.”
Adam smiles at him, brushing a finger down his lover’s cheek. “Love you too,” he says.
“I brought dinner,” Hamish says.
“Good thing I’m hungry then,” Adam says.
Adam sits up as Hamish hands him his dinner. Nothing more needs to be said. They both understand what those few words really mean. They eat their dinner in relative quiet. Adam waits patiently as Hamish cleans up in the kitchen, lost in his own thoughts. When Hamish returns, they exchange a gentle kiss, and they lie there in each other’s arms in the silence, knowing everything’s alright again, at least for the moment. Hamish snuggles into Adam, resting his head against his chest. Adam strokes his hair gently, one arm wrapped protectively around him. Hamish lies there listening to the sound of Adam’s heart beating, knowing he’s exactly where he wants to be.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-10-20 10:08 am (UTC)and where was this writing challenge from??
(no subject)
Date: 2006-10-21 10:29 am (UTC)It was from a forum I hang around on. We all got together and suggested opening ines and three items to include, then voted on which one we wanted to use. The two I used for these two weren't chosen, but I wrote them anyway.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-03 04:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-03 04:16 am (UTC)I'll see what I can do and get some more ready to post this week. I have kinda neglected them in the last two weeks or so, but Christmas and New Year's got in the way and I haven't exactly felt like writing much. But I think I might have a couple up by the end of the week. We'll see.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-04 01:24 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-04 03:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-06 04:51 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-06 05:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-09 02:34 am (UTC)btw, i love the sledge/adam fic... i watched that episode of TGYH the other day ("sledge shaves"!)
are there any more hamish/adam fics coming soon?
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-09 04:18 am (UTC)Yeah, I loved writing that Adam/Sledge fic. Much fun that was. I redid the start three times before I got one I liked.
I've got a few Admish fics started, it's just a matter of finishing them.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-14 02:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-14 04:53 am (UTC)Adam/Wil; Adam/Tim Minchin; Adam/Sledge; Adam/Danny Bhoy; Adam/Ross Noble; Adam/Frank Woodley; Adam/Paul/Wil; Adam/Hamish/Charlie (Charles Firth); Adam/Hugh Dennis/Frankie Boyle (from Mock The Week, British comedy panel show thing); Adam/Hamish/Tim; and, Adam/Hamish/Tim/Wil.
Adam's a very versatile guy. Good to slash. :D
Actually, there's a collection of Adam/Hugh/Frankie fics at
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-15 03:20 am (UTC)how much of book 4 have you written?
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-15 06:00 am (UTC)I'm in the process of editing book four at the moment. I have all three parts finished, I just have to go through them with a fine tooth comb until I'm happy with it. I still think the third part is too feminine, so I'm working on changing that. Because the one thing I hate about bad slash is that the guys are written too feminine-like, and that's something I'm keen to avoid.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-18 03:33 am (UTC)i totally agree about the feminine guy thing...ugh
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-18 03:39 am (UTC)Yes, one of the things that will make me very angry and rant if I see in fic. Also, I get that crackfic should be 'crazy' and 'cliched', but that's no excuse for bad writing. *nods* *steps off soapbox*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-20 03:04 am (UTC)*returns your soapbox to you*
oh, nice background change. very fresh and summery
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-20 04:51 am (UTC)Thanks. I thought it was nice too. I felt like a change. I was bored of the other one.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-28 04:43 am (UTC)so, when can i expect 2 see book 4? i've run out of new slashy admish fics to memorise *desperate*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-28 04:57 am (UTC)I'm feeling a bit burnt out, it's been damn hot the last few days, and I haven't really felt like writing. That and there's been far more Chaser inspiration than Admish inspiration lately, which doesn't help. I don't like not writing. I tend to get stuck in Photoshop when I'm not writing, and I'm running out of things to do in Photoshop. And I still don't feel like writing much. Damned heat. >.< I wish it would die already. *ish grumpy*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-29 12:11 am (UTC)bummer about the burnt out-ed-ness. it is hot, isn't it? although it's been a bit cool where i am for the last few days, which is a welcome change.
don't worry, you'll get your admish inspiration back soon (i hope).
oh, and i read all your novel over at NaNo-it's good stuff.i especially like the admish slash scenes. you can never get too much admish slash
*drools thinking about adam and hamish in shower*
oh, and if these never-ending conversations start to interrupt with your writing or something, feel free to tell me.i'm just bored because i'm on holidays. but i go back 2 school tomorrow.damn.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-29 03:35 am (UTC)Yeah, it does suck. I don't like not writing, but it's going to be cooler this week, so we'll see how much I get done. I have a few ideas roaming around in my head, so I'll see if they can turn into me actually writing.
Oh, thanks. I'm glad you liked the NaNo thing. I need to fix the first bit, because I changed plot a couple of days into NaNo and the poker match at the start doesn't quite fit the rest of the story. But I'll leave editing of it for when I'm done with it.
Hey, don't worry about it. I don't mind the never-ending conversations. :) I too know what it's like to be bored on holidays. Unfortunately for me, uni doesn't start for another four weeks. *sighs* Ah well. More time to write.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-02-04 01:41 am (UTC)curse school! i never get time to go on the net anymore!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-02-04 02:50 am (UTC)Aww, damn school taking up precious net time. :(
(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-22 12:43 am (UTC)Admish is truly my OTP--every year, I fall in love with them all over again. :D
(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-22 12:49 am (UTC)Yeah, they really are adorable, and it's nice to have a pairing that lacks all the angst most of my other pairings have. XD
(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-23 11:36 pm (UTC)Yeah, angst is great, but sometimes it's good to just read about a sweet fluffy couple like Adam and Hamish. They're so cute and smitten and snuggly, and aww... *melts*