Minutes later the two walked out into the parking lot, Jay swearing curtly when a strong gust of wind blew a sheet of icy rain into his face. All complaints he might have had, however, were lost as soon as he caught his first glimpse of Adam's car. Even in the dim light provided by the overhead street lamps, its shiny black surface reflected everything around it.
"Holy shit!" Jay exclaimed breathlessly, eyes simultaneously widening. Drawing closer, he reached out with a careful hand as if afraid it was a mirage that would disappear if touched. He smiled as he ran his fingertips reverantly along the roof. "You're kidding, right?"
Adam shrugged and climbed into the car. Jay only shook his head and followed suit. He sighed contentedly, sinking back against the soft leather seat and letting his eyes drift closed.
"You are one lucky son of a bitch."
"Yeah. Lucky." Adam refused to say more on the matter, opting instead to pull out of the parking lot and turn to the right when directed. Glancing over at Jay, he had to smile a little; he looked like ... well, like Jay. Even while having only known him for a little over a day, Adam already found himself being able to put Jay into a category all his own. He was humorous but not obnoxious, charming but not flamboyant, polite but not a pushover.
And most likely straight. That could present problems.
"So," Adam started for conversation's sake, "how old're you?"
Taken off-guard, Jay's eyelids fluttered open slowly while his brain registered the question. "Seventeen."
"Huh. Me, too."
"You can't even vote yet and you've got a Jaguar. Life's not fair."
"No, it's not," Adam agreed without protest, taking a hard left and making Jay grip the armrest for leverage. "But anyway, you never said what school you went to."
Jay's eyes closed again. "That's 'cause I don't."
". . .oh."
The remainder of the drive was made in silence, broken only by a few half-mumbled directions, though Jay grew quieter with every corner turned. By the time they had finally parked outside a set of shabby apartments, Jay was barely even audible. His goal was to fling the door open and be out of sight before Adam realized he was gone. His goal, like most of his other ones, was shot down before the second phase.
The car was turned off. Jay groaned inwardly, knowing that could mean only one thing.
"You can't come in. It's a mess, and the only person I let inside's my mom. Well, and my landlord, but . . ." Trailing off when he noticed Adam's blank expression, he sighed. "But then, I guess you wouldn't know anything about messes, since you live at the stately Wayne Manor and all."
Adam gave a tiny little grin, feeling his spirits lift slightly. "It's not very smart to make stereotypes about people. My room's a mess, trust me. The housekeepers refuse to go in there because they say it's a hazardous work environment."
Jay arched his eyebrows. "You know what I said about you being full o' shit earlier? I meant it."
"No way to talk to your chauffeur," Adam chastised.
"Hey, you back off, man. I've got blackmail on you."
"Like what?"
In one swift movement, Jay turned and grabbed the bag from the backseat and pulled out the pink fuzzy sunglasses with the springy butterfly antennae on either side. "These. Now if *these* wouldn't raise some questions, I don't know what would."
Adam blanched. He had a point and what was worse, the brat knew it. Of course, Adam reasoned, he could always just tell him he'd been stalking him and accidentally knocked over the sunglasses display, but he thought that might be a bit too extreme at the moment.
Jay gave a quiet sigh of defeat. "You're not gonna stop giving me that damned lost puppy look anytime soon, are you?"
"Huh uh."
More amused than irritated by then, Jay stepped out onto the sidewalk, stretched his legs, and started walking toward the door, not having to look behind to know the heavy footfalls behind him were Adam's. Lanky though he might have been, he was about as quiet as an elephant walking on bubble wrap. Once the passcode was entered to open the door, he pulled the handle, cursed, hit the box again, and opened the door with more success the second time around. Adam squinted, hardly able to see anything thanks to the faded lights above.
"It's dark in here. You'll get used to it." Jay started up the stairs, smirking when he heard a loud thud and Adam swearing viciously. "Is that what they teach you in private school? Anyway, the stairs are really close together. You'll get used to that, too."
Adam huffed, picking himself up off the second step and brushing himself off, surprised to see chips of gray paint fluttering to the floor as a result. He turned to comment on it, only to see that Jay was at the top of the staircase and about to turn to ascend another. At least one benefit of being taller meant having longer legs, thus being able to catch up without too much of a struggle.
After three more flights of impossibly close steps, Jay stopped outside a door and slid a key into the lock. The door swung inward on creaking hinges, making Adam's eyes work to readjust themselves to the thick darkness inside. He was feeling his way along the wall to his right while Jay closed the door, on the hunt for a light switch.
"I wouldn't do that right now. You'll scare the roaches and it won't be pretty." Jay looked over, enough light in the room to see Adam's eyes wide and almost frightened. "Joke. Laugh. Ha. Pretend it was funny."
If he hadn't known better, he could have sworn he heard Adam sigh in relief.
"Aw, you're no fun. At least Mom hit me when I said that the first time." A click, then artificial yellow light flooded the room, once again sending Adam's sensitive eyes into a fit. When he dared to open them again, he saw a cramped, unkept living room that joined to an equally as messy kitchen, and to his left, something that he supposed was a hallway led to a bedroom.
"Want something to eat or anything?" Jay asked, already having walked into the kitchen. Adam, not hearing or too busy nosing to answer, kept quiet. "Lessee...we've got water, some milk that I'm using to develop small life forms, the syrupy stuff at the bottom of the Coke bottle, um . . . orange juice . . . at least that's what I think it is." He took it out and sniffed the carton, made a face, and hastily shoved it to the back of the refrigerator. "God. I don't know what that is, but I'm pretty sure you could wipe out a third world country if you poured it on their crops."
He walked back into the living room, kicking his shoes off as he went and leaving them in different places, something that would no doubt drive him crazy the next time he left the house. Adam turned from where he was inspecting a line of pictures on a shelf that had somehow remained relatively clean to see Jay pulling the rubber band from his hair with one hand and holding a beer bottle in the other.
"Aren't you too young to buy that stuff?"
"Yep. There're advantages to working with older friends," Jay grinned, taking an indulgent drink from the bottle and tossing the rubber band into an empty ashtray on top of the television. "I'd offer you one, but you're driving. And besides, this is my last one and I'm sure as hell not sharing it."
"You're all heart."
Jay belched loudly in response and launched himself into the recliner across from the couch.
"Can I ask you something?" Adam asked a bit timidly, uncharacteristic given he'd been more or less obsessing over and stalking someone he just met the night before. It didn't seem to bother Jay, though, as he simply nodded. "Why don't you live with your parents?"
"It was either here or the psyche ward, and I took my chances on my own. I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but she was just . . . I dunno. I needed space."
"And your father?"
Jay suddenly took a false interest in peeling the label from his beer bottle. "My dad died of cancer a few years ago. Mom remarried last year. He's alright, I guess, but we don't get along very well."
Adam nodded in understanding, going back to the pictures. That was when his heart almost fell through the floor; evidence he'd been hoping not to see stood out in the form of a sickeningly cute framed photo of Jay and a cute, perky blond girl sharing a tire swing. So he was straight. Fine. Adam figured he'd just go home and throw himself onto the first rusty spike that conveniently jumped out at him. Easy enough.
"Girlfriend?"
Please, let it be a sister . . .
Jay snorted and downed the rest of the bottle's contents. "Ex. Do me a favor and burn that one."
Thankful his back was turned, Adam allowed himself a quick smile. Okay, so maybe he might be completely straight, but at least he was single and available.
Moving further down the shelf, Adam's eyebrows raised when he found a small photo in the second row as if hidden. He pulled it out to see Jay in a navy blue graduation gown. His cap hung from his mouth by the tassle, and he seemed to be trying to push his rolled up diploma through his ears.
Jay noticed the picture and groaned. "Mom *said* she was out of film. She lied to me." Seeing Adam staring quizically down at the photo, Jay's lips turned up into a faint sneer. "What? You thought I dropped out, didn't you?"
"No! I mean, I just . . . you said you didn't go . . ."
Jay stopped him, waving away the stumbling apology with a flick of his wrist. "Most people think I dropped out when I tell 'em I'm not in school. I graduated a year early. Skipped sixth grade. I guess someone somewhere got the impression I was smart. I guess I sure screwed them over, didn't I?"
Though the remark had been made as a joke, the tone was more than a little self-berating, make Adam frown. "Why d'ya say that?"
Jay shrugged and tossed the empty bottle into a nearby trash can.
Going on, Adam came across another photo, this time of one with Jay in a hideous bright purple costume with some sort of bizarre striped pattern on the sides. While he appeared to be attempting a menacing snarl, he really looked close to bursting out in laughter.
Adam turned enough to show the picture, wry grin tugging at his mouth. Jay groaned and buried his head against the back of the chair. "My first costume. It's, uh, one of my sadder moments. For obvious reasons."
"I can see that." Adam chuckled lightly, settling onto the couch and taking the picture with him. "I used to watch this stuff."
"Used to?"
Adam shrugged, setting the picture on the coffee table in front of him. "I used to try to do the moves and everything in my room. My father drew the line after I dislocated an elbow pretending I was Randy Savage," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "Besides. He said it was 'barbaric and uncivilized' or something along that line."
Before he could finish, he saw something small and furry creeping along off to his left, and Adam looked up in time for a hyper kitten to pounce on the zipper of his jacket. "Heeey . . . what's this?" He asked, grinning to himself and scratching the kitten's chin, making him purr happily.
"One of those roaches I warned you about. They grow big an' furry around here."
"He's cute. What's his name?"
"Ash."
Adam looked the kitten over and then raised an eyebrow at Jay. "Ash?"
Jay shrugged. "It's from a movie."
Picking the kitten up and setting it on his thigh so it could reach the zipper better, Adam nodded. "Evil Dead, right?"
". . . yeah." Jay blinked. "How'd you know?"
Adam abandoned playing with Ash long enough to meet Jay's eyes. "There're things you don't know about me, either."
Deciding it was best not to continue along that topic, Jay quickly changed the subject, pointing to the kitten hanging upside down from Adam's jacket. "If you let him do that, he'll never stop until he gets every zipper off every piece of clothing you have on."
If he'd heard, Adam ignored Jay and instead continued teasing Ash by dangling the corner of his jacket up over the kitten's head. "I wish I had a pet."
"Why don't you? Don't tell me you don't have enough room."
Adam barely glanced up. "My father's allergic to anything furry, I think. A three story house apparently isn't big enough to have a pet and keep him happy," he admitted quietly, though not without a strong note of bitterness. "I think I had a fish when I was little, but that doesn't count."
"Y'know, your father . . . he, uh, sounds kinda . . . well . . ."
"Like an insufferable asshole? That's 'cause he is," Adam supplied without missing a beat. Jay blinked in surprise.
"Well . . . yeah. Sorry."
"Don't apologize. He hasn't. I don't see why you should, either."
"Hey, if I said something wrong, I didn't mean --"
"It's alright," Adam assurred, finally tiring off the zipper game and letting Ash fall on his back on the couch cushion and start chewing at the zipper by himself. "I just don't like talking about him."
Jay, never one to fear treading on thin ice, ventured on. "Any reason why?"
"Yeah, lots of 'em, but don't expect me to talk about them either," Adam replied curtly, eyes narrowed slightly but level with Jay's. Jay, being who he was, decided that even he had a limit, and that some ice was simply not meant to be tread. He backed off accordingly.
"Holy shit!" Jay exclaimed breathlessly, eyes simultaneously widening. Drawing closer, he reached out with a careful hand as if afraid it was a mirage that would disappear if touched. He smiled as he ran his fingertips reverantly along the roof. "You're kidding, right?"
Adam shrugged and climbed into the car. Jay only shook his head and followed suit. He sighed contentedly, sinking back against the soft leather seat and letting his eyes drift closed.
"You are one lucky son of a bitch."
"Yeah. Lucky." Adam refused to say more on the matter, opting instead to pull out of the parking lot and turn to the right when directed. Glancing over at Jay, he had to smile a little; he looked like ... well, like Jay. Even while having only known him for a little over a day, Adam already found himself being able to put Jay into a category all his own. He was humorous but not obnoxious, charming but not flamboyant, polite but not a pushover.
And most likely straight. That could present problems.
"So," Adam started for conversation's sake, "how old're you?"
Taken off-guard, Jay's eyelids fluttered open slowly while his brain registered the question. "Seventeen."
"Huh. Me, too."
"You can't even vote yet and you've got a Jaguar. Life's not fair."
"No, it's not," Adam agreed without protest, taking a hard left and making Jay grip the armrest for leverage. "But anyway, you never said what school you went to."
Jay's eyes closed again. "That's 'cause I don't."
". . .oh."
The remainder of the drive was made in silence, broken only by a few half-mumbled directions, though Jay grew quieter with every corner turned. By the time they had finally parked outside a set of shabby apartments, Jay was barely even audible. His goal was to fling the door open and be out of sight before Adam realized he was gone. His goal, like most of his other ones, was shot down before the second phase.
The car was turned off. Jay groaned inwardly, knowing that could mean only one thing.
"You can't come in. It's a mess, and the only person I let inside's my mom. Well, and my landlord, but . . ." Trailing off when he noticed Adam's blank expression, he sighed. "But then, I guess you wouldn't know anything about messes, since you live at the stately Wayne Manor and all."
Adam gave a tiny little grin, feeling his spirits lift slightly. "It's not very smart to make stereotypes about people. My room's a mess, trust me. The housekeepers refuse to go in there because they say it's a hazardous work environment."
Jay arched his eyebrows. "You know what I said about you being full o' shit earlier? I meant it."
"No way to talk to your chauffeur," Adam chastised.
"Hey, you back off, man. I've got blackmail on you."
"Like what?"
In one swift movement, Jay turned and grabbed the bag from the backseat and pulled out the pink fuzzy sunglasses with the springy butterfly antennae on either side. "These. Now if *these* wouldn't raise some questions, I don't know what would."
Adam blanched. He had a point and what was worse, the brat knew it. Of course, Adam reasoned, he could always just tell him he'd been stalking him and accidentally knocked over the sunglasses display, but he thought that might be a bit too extreme at the moment.
Jay gave a quiet sigh of defeat. "You're not gonna stop giving me that damned lost puppy look anytime soon, are you?"
"Huh uh."
More amused than irritated by then, Jay stepped out onto the sidewalk, stretched his legs, and started walking toward the door, not having to look behind to know the heavy footfalls behind him were Adam's. Lanky though he might have been, he was about as quiet as an elephant walking on bubble wrap. Once the passcode was entered to open the door, he pulled the handle, cursed, hit the box again, and opened the door with more success the second time around. Adam squinted, hardly able to see anything thanks to the faded lights above.
"It's dark in here. You'll get used to it." Jay started up the stairs, smirking when he heard a loud thud and Adam swearing viciously. "Is that what they teach you in private school? Anyway, the stairs are really close together. You'll get used to that, too."
Adam huffed, picking himself up off the second step and brushing himself off, surprised to see chips of gray paint fluttering to the floor as a result. He turned to comment on it, only to see that Jay was at the top of the staircase and about to turn to ascend another. At least one benefit of being taller meant having longer legs, thus being able to catch up without too much of a struggle.
After three more flights of impossibly close steps, Jay stopped outside a door and slid a key into the lock. The door swung inward on creaking hinges, making Adam's eyes work to readjust themselves to the thick darkness inside. He was feeling his way along the wall to his right while Jay closed the door, on the hunt for a light switch.
"I wouldn't do that right now. You'll scare the roaches and it won't be pretty." Jay looked over, enough light in the room to see Adam's eyes wide and almost frightened. "Joke. Laugh. Ha. Pretend it was funny."
If he hadn't known better, he could have sworn he heard Adam sigh in relief.
"Aw, you're no fun. At least Mom hit me when I said that the first time." A click, then artificial yellow light flooded the room, once again sending Adam's sensitive eyes into a fit. When he dared to open them again, he saw a cramped, unkept living room that joined to an equally as messy kitchen, and to his left, something that he supposed was a hallway led to a bedroom.
"Want something to eat or anything?" Jay asked, already having walked into the kitchen. Adam, not hearing or too busy nosing to answer, kept quiet. "Lessee...we've got water, some milk that I'm using to develop small life forms, the syrupy stuff at the bottom of the Coke bottle, um . . . orange juice . . . at least that's what I think it is." He took it out and sniffed the carton, made a face, and hastily shoved it to the back of the refrigerator. "God. I don't know what that is, but I'm pretty sure you could wipe out a third world country if you poured it on their crops."
He walked back into the living room, kicking his shoes off as he went and leaving them in different places, something that would no doubt drive him crazy the next time he left the house. Adam turned from where he was inspecting a line of pictures on a shelf that had somehow remained relatively clean to see Jay pulling the rubber band from his hair with one hand and holding a beer bottle in the other.
"Aren't you too young to buy that stuff?"
"Yep. There're advantages to working with older friends," Jay grinned, taking an indulgent drink from the bottle and tossing the rubber band into an empty ashtray on top of the television. "I'd offer you one, but you're driving. And besides, this is my last one and I'm sure as hell not sharing it."
"You're all heart."
Jay belched loudly in response and launched himself into the recliner across from the couch.
"Can I ask you something?" Adam asked a bit timidly, uncharacteristic given he'd been more or less obsessing over and stalking someone he just met the night before. It didn't seem to bother Jay, though, as he simply nodded. "Why don't you live with your parents?"
"It was either here or the psyche ward, and I took my chances on my own. I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but she was just . . . I dunno. I needed space."
"And your father?"
Jay suddenly took a false interest in peeling the label from his beer bottle. "My dad died of cancer a few years ago. Mom remarried last year. He's alright, I guess, but we don't get along very well."
Adam nodded in understanding, going back to the pictures. That was when his heart almost fell through the floor; evidence he'd been hoping not to see stood out in the form of a sickeningly cute framed photo of Jay and a cute, perky blond girl sharing a tire swing. So he was straight. Fine. Adam figured he'd just go home and throw himself onto the first rusty spike that conveniently jumped out at him. Easy enough.
"Girlfriend?"
Please, let it be a sister . . .
Jay snorted and downed the rest of the bottle's contents. "Ex. Do me a favor and burn that one."
Thankful his back was turned, Adam allowed himself a quick smile. Okay, so maybe he might be completely straight, but at least he was single and available.
Moving further down the shelf, Adam's eyebrows raised when he found a small photo in the second row as if hidden. He pulled it out to see Jay in a navy blue graduation gown. His cap hung from his mouth by the tassle, and he seemed to be trying to push his rolled up diploma through his ears.
Jay noticed the picture and groaned. "Mom *said* she was out of film. She lied to me." Seeing Adam staring quizically down at the photo, Jay's lips turned up into a faint sneer. "What? You thought I dropped out, didn't you?"
"No! I mean, I just . . . you said you didn't go . . ."
Jay stopped him, waving away the stumbling apology with a flick of his wrist. "Most people think I dropped out when I tell 'em I'm not in school. I graduated a year early. Skipped sixth grade. I guess someone somewhere got the impression I was smart. I guess I sure screwed them over, didn't I?"
Though the remark had been made as a joke, the tone was more than a little self-berating, make Adam frown. "Why d'ya say that?"
Jay shrugged and tossed the empty bottle into a nearby trash can.
Going on, Adam came across another photo, this time of one with Jay in a hideous bright purple costume with some sort of bizarre striped pattern on the sides. While he appeared to be attempting a menacing snarl, he really looked close to bursting out in laughter.
Adam turned enough to show the picture, wry grin tugging at his mouth. Jay groaned and buried his head against the back of the chair. "My first costume. It's, uh, one of my sadder moments. For obvious reasons."
"I can see that." Adam chuckled lightly, settling onto the couch and taking the picture with him. "I used to watch this stuff."
"Used to?"
Adam shrugged, setting the picture on the coffee table in front of him. "I used to try to do the moves and everything in my room. My father drew the line after I dislocated an elbow pretending I was Randy Savage," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "Besides. He said it was 'barbaric and uncivilized' or something along that line."
Before he could finish, he saw something small and furry creeping along off to his left, and Adam looked up in time for a hyper kitten to pounce on the zipper of his jacket. "Heeey . . . what's this?" He asked, grinning to himself and scratching the kitten's chin, making him purr happily.
"One of those roaches I warned you about. They grow big an' furry around here."
"He's cute. What's his name?"
"Ash."
Adam looked the kitten over and then raised an eyebrow at Jay. "Ash?"
Jay shrugged. "It's from a movie."
Picking the kitten up and setting it on his thigh so it could reach the zipper better, Adam nodded. "Evil Dead, right?"
". . . yeah." Jay blinked. "How'd you know?"
Adam abandoned playing with Ash long enough to meet Jay's eyes. "There're things you don't know about me, either."
Deciding it was best not to continue along that topic, Jay quickly changed the subject, pointing to the kitten hanging upside down from Adam's jacket. "If you let him do that, he'll never stop until he gets every zipper off every piece of clothing you have on."
If he'd heard, Adam ignored Jay and instead continued teasing Ash by dangling the corner of his jacket up over the kitten's head. "I wish I had a pet."
"Why don't you? Don't tell me you don't have enough room."
Adam barely glanced up. "My father's allergic to anything furry, I think. A three story house apparently isn't big enough to have a pet and keep him happy," he admitted quietly, though not without a strong note of bitterness. "I think I had a fish when I was little, but that doesn't count."
"Y'know, your father . . . he, uh, sounds kinda . . . well . . ."
"Like an insufferable asshole? That's 'cause he is," Adam supplied without missing a beat. Jay blinked in surprise.
"Well . . . yeah. Sorry."
"Don't apologize. He hasn't. I don't see why you should, either."
"Hey, if I said something wrong, I didn't mean --"
"It's alright," Adam assurred, finally tiring off the zipper game and letting Ash fall on his back on the couch cushion and start chewing at the zipper by himself. "I just don't like talking about him."
Jay, never one to fear treading on thin ice, ventured on. "Any reason why?"
"Yeah, lots of 'em, but don't expect me to talk about them either," Adam replied curtly, eyes narrowed slightly but level with Jay's. Jay, being who he was, decided that even he had a limit, and that some ice was simply not meant to be tread. He backed off accordingly.