#thats anxiety baybay!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

himbos-hotline · 1 year

Note

“Do you trust me?” jay and hangman

Hand in [Un]Loveable hand

Word count: 6327 words Ship: The polycule Characters: Kenny Omega"Hangman" Adam PageAdam Cole Mentioned: Young Bucks Kyle O'Reilly Bobby Fish [theyre mentioned once by name but tagging them anyway]Wheeler Yuta Triggers: alcoholism, a drunk cowboy, anxiety, suicide idealation/ suicidal desire, mentions of Jay smoking, alcohol, mentions of Jay having a nightmare of Adam dying, little mention of smut [cole is a bottom, be unsurprised]..I think thats it. Authors note: Trans femme adam cole [baybay], adam is sad and I had no idea how to finish this fic.

Read on AO3

There's something about fear that Jay doesnt understand. She understands why it happens, scientifically it's all chemicals and thoughts that run too fast to the point they're impossible to catch. He understands all of it. She just doesn't get the way it feels on his tongue. It feels spiky and bitter as she rolls it around in their mouth, letting it coat his teeth like chewing gum. Fear is an angry and violent emotion that attacks Jay whenever they sleep.

It fills his tired brain with droning ten bell salutes and clinging to Matt like he’s the last connection to the world he has. It gives his images of waking up digging his nails into a corpse, watching his blonde curls fall across the itchy hotel blankets. His blue eyes are empty and soulless and his skin is cold against the frantic shaking of Jay’s palms, pressing into the dips of his shoulders.

Fear startles him awake like he’s been shot, skin clammy and face wet and shimmering against the rising sun. Adam shifts at their side, wraps a secure arm around his middle and fights against tiredness to open his eyes, blue and flooded with innocent sleepiness. Blue and tired and sprinkled with gold and life. He stares at his and Jay stares back in the rising sun and fear settles pressing against the inside of their veins, tainting the calming kiss with a buzzing sourness that sets Jay’s teeth alight when his tongue drags itself across zeir bottom lip.

Fear makes him jolt, dropping his eyes to the floor where Kenny sits untangling his laces. “I'm gonna go see the Bucks, run through a few things. Are you two gonna be okay if-?” Kenny doesn't need to finish the sentence, he just has to turn tiredly concerned eyes towards the closed hotel room door and sigh softly.

“We’ll be okay.” Cole mumbles from Jay's side, tapping the remote against the side of her leg, soft and in a gentle rhythm that feels almost like she's dancing in some distant corner of his mind. Despite the calmness of her voice,the look on her face gives her concern away; blue eyes creasing in the corners and the back of her foot knocking against the couch. Cole purposely doesn’t look at Kenny as he shifts onto his knees and runs an anxious thumb across the base of Jay’s wrist.

“Will you be okay?” His voice is softer now, serious and Jay strokes a careful hand down their boyfriend's face, twirling a blond strand around her finger to tuck it behind his ear.

“We’ll be okay Ken. I promise.”

“That's if he even comes back to the hotel.” Cole states, staring at the TV like she's actually paying attention to the home shopping channel. “What?” She states when Kenny pushes his knees.

“He’s sick Adam. He can't help it.” Jay replies with a sigh, pressing their knuckles against the bridge of his nose, feeling the cold metal of their piercing dig into the bone. Cole makes a small sound of apology and leans her head against the crook of Jay’s shoulder. “It's okay to forget. I know it's hard Princess.” Jay presses a kiss to her temple and raises their chin slightly to quickly give Kenny a distracted kiss goodbye, only managing to drag his teeth across the hinge of his jaw as he stands. “Sorry baby”

“It's okay, it didn't hurt.” Kenny comforts,voice soft and giggly. It makes Jay smile and when he leans down and points to his lips, she returns with a soft kiss. “I have to go or Nick will murder me for being late.”

Cole tilts his head deeper into Jay’s side and waves goodbye before focusing on the TV again, making small curious sounds as the woman on TV holds up a necklace. “It would look really pretty on you sweetie.” Jay muses, stroking their nails across the apple of his cheek.

“Ya think?” She replies, smiling when Jay nods. “Of course it would look good on me.” She drapes a leg across Jay's lap, releasing a soft breath when Jay’s hands find their place against his thigh, stroking across the bare skin softly.

“Everything would look good on you, you're such a pretty girl.” Jay watches his preen under the words, pressing his lips against his partner's steady pulse. “Do you wanna keep watching the shopping channel?” Jay asks, reaching over Cole’s hip to steal the remote when she shakes his head. The movement presses the curve of her forehead deeper into Jay's jaw and there's a few moments where Adam looks up at zem with mischief swirling through the blue of her eyes. She tilts his head up, pressing his lips against the curve of Jay’s neck, grinning against their skin when a soft breath shudders past his lips. “Princess”

“Mhmm?” Cole whispers, lips still grazing a growing mark that starts to bloom against Jays somewhat tanned skin. “Please?” She whines, rolling his hips until she's sitting on their lap, eagerly grinding his dick into his lap.

“Such a needy girl” Jay’s voice slips past their parted lips and Cole blinks up with wide eyes, a half smile skating across his lips. “Can’t even wait five minutes after Kenny leaves, so pathetic.” Jay leans forwards and whispers the last part in his ear.

Something inside Cole snaps, her pupils spread out like patches of tar and when she speaks it's breathy and needy. Her hips snap against Jay’s lap when they gather her hair between his fingers. Her head swirls and when her boyfriend strokes a hand between his legs, he nods “sir yes-please?” glossy blue eyes blink up at Jay as she pulls her hair again, hard enough to make her moan as her head rolls back, foggy and heavy on her shoulders.

Jay watches her eyes slip closed, letting her nails drag across the crown of her scalp. Small scars poke out against their fingers and Jay bends down to suck on her collarbone; teeth skating across her pale skin when Cole whimpers out their name. “You’re being so good, baby.” Jay promises.

The knock at the door startles them both; Cole squeaks and tucks her head into the side of Jay’s face. “Ignore it please” She whispers, rolling her hips forward. There's a small eager patch of wetness against her boxers and Jay feels pride swell in the bottom of his stomach. “Daddy please?”

“Baby okay, shh.” Jay whispers, cupping her face in his hands, letting his blunt fingernails scratch at the scruff of her beard, the softness of her skin. The knocking at the door gets louder, more disorientated and when Jay presses her lips together and glances over her shoulder instead of looking at Cole she sighs and shifts off their lap, laying her head against the arm of the couch.

The mood dies just as quickly as it started and Jay leans over to kiss at Cole’s cheek. “I’m sure it's just Kenny. He's more than likely forgotten something. You know how he is.” She runs fingers through her hair, watching as Cole placcates under zeir touches. “Pretty girl.” Jay promises, grinning when Cole tilts his head against the couch cushions, rolling to lay on her back.

“Hey could someone lemme in?” It's the first time the person on the other side of the door has spoken; voice loud, and thickened by a messy Southern accent. “I uh- I forgot my keycard…” Cole sighs; leans over her boyfriend and picks up the jeans she had discarded when they first returned back to the hotel. “Guys?”

“We should leave him out there to sober up.” Cole mumbles, trying her best not to let any malice slip into her voice. “It's what I used to do when we’d room together.”

“Well that clearly worked didn’t it Princess.” Jay mumbles back, staring at the door. Something in her stomach twists and guilt paints the inside of their mouth with a thin layer of saliva. They feel sick. They feel useless. Jay can feel Cole’s eyes boring a hole into the back of her head and she turns to look at her. “Sorry.”

Zey get a shrug in return. Cole finally sat up and pressed a kiss to the back of Jay’s neck. “I’ll get the door?” it comes out like a question and Jay opens their mouth to reply.

“A-are you guys there?” Adam falls over his own words and then takes a deep breath like he’s going to be sick. There’s a thud and an image of Adam laying passed out in his own vomit flashes like lightning through Jay’s head. They shake their head quickly and close their eyes. The door to the hotel room clicks open and it feels like a buck shot.

“Is he-” Jay presses their lips together, not sure what she's asking. Is Adam alive? Is he laying on the floor surrounded by broken glass and bile? Is he bloodied and bruised for a bar fight that in the morning he won't remember?

“He’s pissed.” Is Cole’s unsurprised reply. She throws her hands up and almost lets the hotel door close on the cowboy. Adam grabs it and flings it open, wincing as the door knocks into the wall. The hardwood trembles and Cole squirms past, mumbling something Jay can’t quite hear as she leaves. Adam follows her down the hallway with his eyes before shrugging. His boots scuff against the hotel rooms thin carpet and he sways like he's dancing.

“What's her problem?”

“Where have you been?” It’s a stupid question and one that Jay can answer just by looking at him. His hair frays like the end of a hangman's noose, sticking up at awkward angles that make it look like devil's horns. His blue eyes are dark and pickled in his skull; Jay spots them staring down at his half unbuttoned shirt. His jeans are stained with whiskey and mud and as Jay wraps their arms securely around his middle, notices his shirts missing a button.

Adam slumps his taller frame against the smaller person, stroking a hand down their arm. “The bar!” He giggles. It's not a happy sound, it's weak and almost pathetic, like someone has told him a joke that he doesn’t exactly get but he laughs anyway. He blinks sad eyes down at himself and sighs, watching how Jay curls into his chest, holding him up as he sways unsteadily. “It gets sad drinking alone. ‘Though some real nice young man brought me a drink-” He holds his hand up like he’s swirling a glass before he drops it back against Jay's shoulder.

“Yeah? Why don’t we get you to bed hmm?” Jay whispers, using their hands to shift Adams' taller frame into standing straight. He sways and his feet turn inwards when he walks, stumbling and always standing on Jay’s toes. “Okay, just hold my hands darling.” It takes Adam a few moments to focus on their hands, too busy grasping at the wall and shaking the dizziness out of his mind. He groans when it only makes things worse. Adam bends over, gripping his temples and Jay darts forwards, wrapping comforting hands around his forearms. He takes a step backwards, trying to pull Adam along.

They’re between the bed and the bathroom when Adam falls over his own feet and sends them both careening into the wall. The two of them fall with a heavy thud, the back of Adam's head hits the wall and Jay feels the heel of his boot drag against their calf. “Ow. fuck.” He grumbles, leaning back against the wall.

Hair falls over his eyes and when Jay brushes it behind his ears, he leans forward and presses a messy kiss to their lips. Jay wants to kiss him back but it feels wrong; she shouldn't be endeared by his alcoholism. They shouldn't love what scares them. Jay shouldn't kiss the blade that is going to carve away parts of him until Adam is nothing more than a ten bell salute and another wrestling tragedy.

Adam makes a small punched out sound and Jay reaches out to brush dry mud off the apple of his cheek. He tilts his head up and Jay feels the alcoholic warmth pour from his skin, feels the thin layer of sweat when he presses their foreheads together and Jay wraps his arms around their neck. “It gets lonely drinking alone.” Jay watches tears build at the corner of his eyes and presses their foreheads closer together. Maybe she's trying to merge the two of them together or maybe he’s just trying to keep Adams' attention. Jay doesn’t know, but as Adam hides his wet face in their neck, Jay knows that she has to love the things that scare her. Because to love the monsters that haunt Adam is to love him. She has to love the burning building that is his frame, for in the ashes is the man who plays guitar and sings too loud in the shower.

Jay presses a kiss to the top of his head, uses their sleeve to swipe away his own tears and whispers.

“You’re not alone anymore.”

“Y’promise?”

Jay pulls back, holds his face in his hands. Stares so deeply into the blues of his eyes that they feel like he's drowning in the middle of an ocean, she takes a much needed gasp of air and strokes his face with the pads of their thumbs. “I promise.” He nods against her shoulder and Jay sways him gently, softly. Adam trembles in their side like a dying animal, heavy breaths racking against the curves of his ribs. Jay just holds him, stroking his back.

Maybe its moments, maybe its hours. Neither of them know. But Adam pulls away and sniffles, keeping his eyes on the floor. Shame paints itself across his red face and Jay barely manages a half smile. “Adam baby look at me.” He rests a hand on his knee.

Adam shakes his head, whimpering as pain shoots through his temples. “I can’t.” Under the hotel lights Adam looks almost childish; curled in front of them with his forehead resting against his knees, hands shaking as blunt nails claw against the dirty denim of his jeans. Distantly, through the fog he hears his girlfriend sigh and guilt tingles its way through his bloodstream, mixing with the euphoria of ethanol and tears sting at the corner of his eyes. Adam wants too but he sees the sadness growing behind Jay’s eyes and soft half smiles. She’s being so gentle with him and Adam doesn’t deserve their careful touches and kindness, he’s pulling her apart and Jay is letting him twist the blade deeper into the cartilage of his shoulder.

“Okay baby.” Jay squeezes his wrist, gentle enough that it forces Adam to look at him through wet eyelashes. “Let’s get ya ready for bed yeah? Get you outta these jeans yeah?” “Yeah.” Adam whispers, trying his best to manage a smile although by the way that Jay tilts their head and runs a thumb across the apple of his cheek, he guesses it came out more like a grimace.

Adam uses the wall to support him when he stands, one hand feeling its way across the bar walls while his other arm flails through the air like a child on a balance beam. Walking seems like it takes an extreme amount of focus for him, tongue poking out the corner of his lips as Jay holds onto his middle; a pole keeping his taller frame straight for the short walk over to the bed.

The heels of his boots knock against the floor as Jay kneels between his legs, undressing Adam like he was a toddler too stupid to figure out the zippers on his boots or the poppers on his shirt, naked under their hands he feels exposed. “I’ll get some boxers out of your bag okay?” She turns to point over her shoulder, at his suitcase open on the floor. Maybe it’s the way Adam squirms under her eyeline or maybe it's the goosebumps that cover his forearms but she leans forwards and wraps the starchy hotel sheet around his shoulders and pulls it tightly around his alcohol stained frame. “Gotta keep my cowboy warm.”

Jay stares down at him; watches how he nods, and lets his body fall into the mattress. He drags his legs close to his chest and cuddles into himself, keeping his eyes stubbornly closed. Jay thinks he looks like a starving dog or a terrified child. He looks broken and small and empty as if someone had stolen every part of the man who she fell in love with. She strokes a hand through his knotted hair, working free soft cherubin-like curls. Pressure builds behind their eyes as she strokes loose curls off the frame of his face. Adams' green eyes crack open to stare at their face; Jays eyebrows are drawn together and low, casting shadows across her mismatched eyes making them look like a lake-lined forest after a hurricane. “What's wrong?” His voice sounds like he’s sick; croaky and static-like in his ears.

She scrubs her fists across the bridge of their nose, using the friction to rub away the line of water building at the bottom of her eyes. “Nothing darling.” It shouldn’t be easy to lie to one of the people she loves but as Jay keeps speaking, pulling a faded band T-shirt and boxers against Adam’s yellowing skin, a part of her brain frowns like a stubborn mother as lies keep tumbling into the air around them. She promises that zey are okay and that everything is going to be better in the morning. Adam nods along, muscles loose and limber from the alcohol, letting him dress him. Jay sits by his feet as Adam squirms under the blankets, pulling them up under his nose. His bare feet poke out the bottom of the blankets and Jay picks his socks up from the floor, letting his legs rest on his lap as she pulls them on, reaching out to trace a finger across the horseshoe pattern. He’s looking at zem from the pillows, half-open eyes wet and watery. “S’late.” Adam finally mumbles and, still running a nail across the patterns, glances up at the clock on the wall that sits annoyingly above the bed. It flashes in aggressive red neon that makes it clear that it is way past their normal bedtimes.

Jay smiles, nodding at him. Adam’s eyes are crystalised like whiskey glasses and they look like they're floating, picked and euphoric in his skull and as Jay stares at him, they imagine twisting them out of their sockets like lightbulbs and letting the amber liquid drain out of his skull like amber falling from a damaged tree. She shakes her head as if her brain was an etch a sketch, removing the thought from it quickly. It doesn’t work and the idea of alcohol melting down Adam’s face sticks stubbornly behind her eyelids. A hand comes to wrap around theirs and almost like its a dying instinct, Jay squeezes. “C’ere.”

She lets him tug her down, lets Adam tangle his larger frame around their smaller one. “Love you.” Adam whispers, tucking his head securely between his collar and jaw. He presses his cheek against their skin that Jay is half sure that Adam can feel her racing pulse against his skin. Jay reaches over his head, careful not to startle his half awake frame and the room plunges into darkness, the floor barely lit by the white light on the moon pressing little kisses to the floor.

Adam sleeps and Jay doesn’t. She presses her hand against the curve of his ribs, feels his chest rising and falling under her palm and it makes Jay think about roses blooming and the first sprinkling of rain. It makes her think of everything good in the world that eventually gets snatches away; fate snatches everything good from her fingertips and so Jay wraps his arms around Adam tighter and presses a tearful kiss against the almost unbroken line between his forehead and nose and whispers sweet nothings into his hair.

The sun has started to rise when Kenny pushes the door to the hotel room open with his hip, holding the keycard between his teeth. In the dimness of the rising sun, he spots Jay resting against the headboard and jolts back, almost knocking into the door. “Why are you still awake baby girl?” He watches his girlfriend push the blankets back and Kenny sighs softly. “Have you slept?”

“Have you?” Was Jay’s quiet reply as she watched him take off his shoes, leaving them in the middle of the room. “Not really. I don't-'' The mattress dips when Kenny sits besides them, letting his arm fall securely around their shoulder. His fingers work a bruise free against Jay’s pale skin. Even as she stares at Kenny, taking note of the apology glowing in his eyes, he keeps glances over at Adam, who rolled onto his side.

“Did Cole just leave you to deal with him, was he?” There’s a bite of anger in his whispered words and Jay lays their head against chest. It hurts, pressing his hearing aids into his skull but the pain feels real and Jay almost relishes in the ache.

“Yeah. emotional.” She traces a finger down Adam’s spine, feeling her nails dip into the worn down holes. “It's not Cole’s job to look after him. She’s gone to stay with Bobby and Kyle.” Kenny tilts his head against theirs, lips brushing against the top of her head.

“It’s not ours either.” Kenny stares and it makes Jay’s stomach crease. “He needs help from a doctor and a therapist.”

Jay sighs. He knows this. He knows that their love can only help Adam so much. That Kenny pressing water bottles against his lips so Adam doesn’t dehydrate and Jay helping him shower and Cole tying the soft golden strands of his hair up so Adam doesn’t get sick in it can only help so much before he’s too far gone and their relationship snaps like a guitar string pulled too tightly. She swallows, gathers a fistfall of Adam’s soft blond hair and tugs just soft enough that the curls straighten before bouncing back into place. Adam doesn’t stir, just lets his head roll back against the starchy hotel pillowcases.

“He looks yellow.” Jay whispers, having to break the silence and stop Kenny from staring at him with sad eyes.

“It's the sunlight baby. I promise.” He whispers, placing his hand over the one tangled in Adam's hair and squeezes. His nails drag across Adam’s scalp and he releases a small whimper when Kenny pulls both hands away and drags Jay into sitting in his lap.

“It's gonna be okay baby.” Kenny whispers, pressing kisses against their knuckles and maybe it's the sleep deprivation or maybe the gentleness is enough to worm through a small hole in Jay’s walls. Tears blurr her vision and through tears, they whsiper “he’s killing himself and we’re- we’re and we’re just-” “Shh baby shh. I know. I know. Shh.” Kenny coo’s into their hair, rocking them against his chest like Jay was a baby. He kisses the top of her head and hums soft notes into their messy red hair until his boyfriends sobs are quieted into a little sniffles. Kenny remembers holding Nick the same way once, swaying and rocking his sniffling frame and a small smile spreads across his tired face. Jay and Nick, the crybaby Bucks; two smaller men who are so in touch with their emotions that it nearly pulls them apart. Maybe that's why the two of them get along so well, Kenny thinks as he presses another kiss to her forehead. “We’ll get everything fixed I promise.”

Jay stares at him like she's lost something important and her mismatched eyes are endlessly sad. He presses a soft kiss against her lips and when Jay manages a half smile, he shifts down the bed until his head is resting against the pillow. “Sleep now baby. I’ll keep watch. I promise.”

Jay nods, worn out and drained from crying. She settles his hearing aids on the bedside table and lets the sun-kissed world darken around them.

They’re awakened to the feeling of mattresses dipping and Kenny’s sleep deprived frame stumbling towards the small connected bathroom. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Jay is almost startled to find the bed empty, blankets a tangled mess around her ankles. The world explodes into the sound of Adam heaving and Kenny calming him down, promising that there’s nothing in his hair when he turns his hearing aids on.

Bare-footed and half awake, Jay wanders towards the bathroom and peaks her head around the doorframe. Adam is on his knees, gripping the edge of the toilet seat as if it's the only thing in the room that isn’t spinning and Kenny kneels by his side, using his hands to form a loose makeshift ponytail. “Is he okay?” Jay asks a stupid question, sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

“Hungover.” Kenny provides an obvious answer, pulling his eyebrows together apologetically when Adam groans, pressing his forehead against the cold porcelain. “It’s okay Cowboy, It’ll stop soon.”

Adam groans in reply, reaching up to rub his throat. Everything burns and when he turns to stare sadly up at Kenny, the world is too bright and he thunks his head down again. “Ow.” His head feels like it's splitting in two, ripping apart with every mouthful of spit that he coughs into the hotel toilet. His skin feels like he’s made of plastic and some deranged child is melting him with the light of the sun. Every muscle feels too tight, too sticky and when he pulls back to rest on the back of his ankles, his skin is too red and feverishly hot. He looks a mess and by the way Kenny’s hands trail down the back of his neck, letting his hair fall around trembling shoulders before pulling away, he knows that the others know it.

There’s a mix of tears and snot growing on his face everytime Adam breathes out, making his face feel sticky as if someone’s pushing a pillow against him, trying to suffocate him. Kenny flushes the toilet and uses a wet washcloth to dab away the mess on his boyfriend's face like Adam is something worthy of being cleaned; someone worth being polished. He holds Adam’s chin in his hand when he’s finished, dropping the washcloth into the sink. “There’s my handsome boy.” He whispers, pressing a kiss against Adam’s forehead and it almost makes him cry.

It almost feels too much when Adam reaches out to use the wall to pull himself up. His knees wobble but don’t betray his weight and when he stares at his face in the mirror. Adam barely recognises himself. His eyes are rimmed red and heavy set in his tired face, his nose is running almost like he’s got a cold and his lips are red and swollen. A bruise is forming on his forehead and when his hand rises to press against it, they come away shaking and slightly bloody. He blinks at the person looking back at him and sneers. The person in the mirror isn’t pretty or handsome; it’s some betrayed wounded creature who should be put out of its misery.

The thought isn’t shocking but it makes something in Adam’s overheating body feel cold. He doesn’t want to die. Right? He tries not to think about the pain meds Kenny keeps in a pocket of his suitcase, or the still-full packet of Marlboro cigarettes Jay keeps in their inside jacket pocket. He closes his eyes as the voice in his head, vicious and harmful and scary, tells him what it would be like to smoke every last one, putting the butts out on his arm. The devil on his shoulder, whispering at his weakened self control to take every last pill, to cradle a handful and slam them down his throat. Adam screws his eyes up, stares at his reflection in the mirror and concludes something.

Maybe.

Does he want to die?

Maybe.

“No.” He whispers, quiet enough and hidden by the croak of his strained voice that his boyfriends, staring at him with nervous eyes, don’t hear what he says. They both look at each other and raise their shoulders in a shrug.

“Where’d you go baby?” Kenny asks eventually and his voice is suddenly the loudest thing happening around Adam’s head. The cloudy thoughts are washed away but the Adam in his mind reaches up and picks a cloud out of the sky of his thoughts, and clings to it until it's an overwhelming fog that consumes the little fella. He shrugs and disappears. However, the Adam in the real world blinks, tries to take a step forward and instantly falls back into the bathroom wall, shrinking down before either Kenny and Jay could grab him. “Back to bed for you.”

“M’fine.” Adam croaks out, knowing that he is the opposite of fine. He’s sitting on the bathroom floor of some hotel room, hungover and still half-drunk, his stomach keeps rolling up to meet his throat and he ends up spitting into the toilet, nausea brings nothing but bile that burns his throat. Everything on his body feels too tight and the clothes that Jay dressed him in the night before are sticking to his sweaty, red-tinged skin. It makes him itch. He kicks off the socks, nearly hitting Kenny in the ankle with the sole of his foot and squirms out of the shirt.

“Sure, you’re totally fine.” Kenny mumbles under his breath and when Adam rears his head up, eyes angry, to glare at him, Jay steps between the two of them. They take Kenny by the hands and squeeze them softly, Adam closes his eyes again and leans against the cold tiles. It provides little relief from the anger knotting at his stomach or the heat radiating off his skin but as he tilts the crown of his head against them, it settles something deep inside him. It almost feels like dying; a sweet relief washing over him for a few seconds before someone presses a cold hand against his forehead.

Relief sweeps across his face; relaxing the tight muscles and when he blinks his eyes open, Jay looks relieved, stroking a scar that cuts through his eyebrow, “D’ya wanna shower?” She asks in a voice that's so small, a sober Adam would joke it didn’t come from the normally hot-headed, compassionate firecracker he calls a boyfriend. Adam Isn’t sober so he remains tightly lipped and, using Jay as stability, slides his back up the wall and lets zem settle him into the bath. He strips himself out of his boxers and keeps his eyes focused on the wall in front of him. Jay pretends not to notice the collection of scars across his hips, simply shifting to the other end of the tub to turn on the taps. The bath fills with a pleasing mixture of cold and hot water; weaving its way over Adam’s legs, across his hips until it pools comfortably around his chest. It presses slightly around his chest and it feels almost like a weighted blanket. “I’m gonna go get your toiletries.”

“Okay…” Adam swallows the growing wave of nausea and sinks further into the cooling water, letting his shoulders submerge. “I’m sorry.” He stares at his hands, folded neatly in his lap.

“What for?” Jay asks, head tilted in confusion and eyebrows knitted together. “Adam, sweetheart, what for?” She’s back at his side, leaning over the tub and reaching under the water to stroke at the curve of his shoulder.

There’s a dusting of red across the bridge of his nose and Adam feels his skin burning. Embarrassment and guilt bite at the corner of his mind, mixing with his hangover. It makes a dangerous concoction of pain that makes him feel loose tongued and weak. “For being like this..” His hand flails under the water, gesturing to himself. “I shouldn’t…you and Kenny and Adam..you don’t…I shouldn’t”

“Adam sweetie.” Jay’s hand pulls off his shoulder and cups his chin between their hands as if she was holding something special. “Our hearts love you. We chose you because of that. That means we chose all the moments and things that come with you.” She rubs at his cheeks, presses a soft kiss to the middle of his forehead. “No matter what weather you’re having good or bad days or weeks or hell, even years. We’re always going to love you. Because you’re funny and kind and gentle and smart. You make us all so proud every single day y’know that?”

Adam’s eyebrows shoot upwards, his eyes creasing. “I do?”

“Hell fucking yeah” Jay whispers, pressing another kiss to his forehead. “We don’t get angry at Kenny when his knees hurt and we don't get upset when Cole’s breasts hurt her. We don’t hate them or stop loving them because they’re suffering. So why would Kenny or I or Cole stop loving you because you're suffering?”

He blinks at her for a few moments, reaching up to squeeze at their wrists.

“We love you Adam. You’re our boyfriend and you’re gonna get better. Everything is gonna get better.”

“And…” He presses his lips together, snuggling into her cold hands. “And if it doesn’t?”

“We’ll love you the exact same.” Kenny replies from the doorway. He’s holding Adam’s toiletries bag in one hand and a book in the other. He smiles sheepishly and holds both out. “I heard the water running..I thought he’d be needing this.”

“Thank you angel.” Adam whispers, watching as Jay lines the bottles up in height order on the other end of the tub. “What's the book for?”

“I'm gonna read to you while Jay washes you.” The smile that spreads across his face is soft and real, it crinkles his eyes and Adam feels warm. The world no longer feels so bright, Kenny must have dimmed the lights when he left the bathroom. “You deserve to be pampered, so you look pretty when you go home.” It makes Adam blush, warmth spreading through his body faster and better than any alcohol ever has before. Love is dizzying and exciting and terrifying. It warms his skin with a pleasant blush.

He still feels like he’s made of plastic as Jay runs tea-tree smelling body wash across his shoulders and across his chest. Bubbles foam against Adam’s skin and he sinks deeper into the water watching as they float away. Kenny has opened the book, resting it against his crossed legs. Adam tries his best to pay attention to the words Kenny is reading because he’s trying, stumbling over sentences but whenever Adam peaks over the side of the bath and see’s Kenny looking back, blue eyes sparkling and soft his voice fades away.

Jay has shifted out of his eyeline and Adam feels water running down his face. He doesn’t like other people washing his hair; it feels too intimate. The loud part of his mind has always imagined the person washing his hair, cutting it or pushing his head under the water until he can't breathe. But Jay rests her hands against the back of his shoulders and waits.

“Do you trust me?” She asks and the question is heavier than washing out shampoo. It sits heavy in the small room for a few seconds. Adam shifts and slowly rolls over onto his stomach to look at her. The movement makes the room shift slightly and water sloshes onto the floor, wetting the now closed book on Kenny’s lap.

Adam smiles, leans in slightly to rest their foreheads together and whispers. “With everything.”

And as Kenny rests his head against Adam’s shoulder, book now discarded onto the closed toilet seat, Adam’s head feels clearer than ever. Kenny rolls him back and strokes an unbroken line across his ear. “Love you cowboy.”

“I love you guys too.”

And its un unbroken promise. One that doesn’t slip away or snap. The Virginia show rolls around and surrounded by family, Adam feels better. He passes most of his whiskey off as gifts between family members, smiling when he catches a partner's proud smile smoothing out their face. They’re all sitting outside, spread out on the porch.

“I’m proud of you Hanger.” Kenny whispers and lays his head against the curve of Adam’s leg. Adam smiles, wraps an arm around Cole shoulders and watches as Jay brings out glasses of lemonade and hands him his antidepressants.

Adam pulls a face and follows them with his eyes. “Is it that time already?” He sighs, the sound breaking into a laugh when there's a cacophony of “yes Adam” around him.

“Fine. fine.” He takes his medication, washes the singular pill down with homemade lemonade and leans back against the porch swing. It creaks slightly and under the setting sun. Adam is sure that this is what he was chasing at the bottom of glasses of whiskey and stale bottles of beer.

He didn't need to run and hide in the amber liquids because euphoria was surrounding him. He lets his partners snuggle against him and he sighs, eyes closed and chin tilted against Jay’s head.

He’s in heaven and for once it's not spinning. The world is still and Adam decides that he likes it this way. His eyes are clean when he stares at his partners. Alcohol can steal so much from him but it won’t touch this moment. It won’t touch any of their moments together.

Adam promises them that, promises the world that. And most importantly, promises himself that.

Taglist: @allelitesmut @homoeroticgrappling @paradoxunknown @katries @mrsmatt @echoxshxrx @malewifemoxley @kass-the-kitten @itsnoosetome @racerchix21 @jacedoe @chuckstaylors @old-no7 @thekadster @mandiableclaw @tahiri-veyla

#mouse writes #oc: jay orton #ship: the polycule #hangman adam page #OTP: southern lovin' had me a blast

8 notes · View notes