He can't hide away forever. Otis has got a "business meeting" with Maeve, and he may as well go home, get a shower, and watch a few make up tutorials before getting some food. The place his empty, gives him enough time to stress about "his ex?" Before being interupted. He pushes open the door only for his mouth to drop to the floor, when he stumbles on Adam laying on his bed watching TV, without a care in the world.
Body wise he looks great as usual. Smelling of soap and sherbet sweets. He keeps clothes over here, and he's now dressed in a white tank top with baggy grey bottoms that make him look adorable. Eric does want to climb on him, hug him and kiss him on the forehead, but he glances at the awful bruise and swears.
"Shit!" He tries to exit, until the boy on his bed says,
"Tromboner, I'm comfy here. Don't make me have to come off this bed and drag you back here" Adam calmly warns.
"So I got no texts from you?" Eric asks, tapping his doorframe.
"So?"
"So I said text me with the results!" He whines.
"This ain't the fucking X factor. Come here" Adam orders, jerking his head upwards.
It was time to face the music.
Eric dumped his bag on the floor and timidly walked over. Sitting lightly on the bed like it wasn't his own. This was the first time he'd really gotten to look at Adam's handsome face, since he'd hit him. The swelling had gone down a little but his eye was still purple. A faint cut decorated his eyebrow, Eric stroked his face and frowned at the bloodshot eye.
"Fuck, how are you?"
"A bit fucking late for your concern Tromboner" Adam tuts.
"I'm sorry, I just...after A&E you seemed pissed, rightfully so, after what I did. I...I thought you needed to cool down abit. That you needed some space"
"Space? You wollop me with a baseball bat and you're the one running from me?" He asked.
"Yeah...I'm weird...you know this. How's your eye babe?" Eric asked holding his hand and lightly kissing his wrist. The brunette shakes him off and points to his eye.
"This, stung. But you avoiding me like Jeffrey Dahmer all the time, stings more" Adam confessed.
He wraps his long arms around Eric's body, pulling him down onto the bed. They shift, shuffle and snuggle into place until Adam is the big spoon, and his chin is resting on the band player's shoulder. "I've missed this" Eric whispers. "I don't even deserve this, me being the vicious man beater that I'am. You shouldn't be with me. You should be sipping tea and getting therapy, at a shelter for battered men..."
"Please shut the fuck up, you're so hysterically dramatic" Adam groans.
"Ad, what do you even see in me? Besides licking you down with a bat, I'm so camp and soooo all over the place. I'm not super attractive and I'm not Anwar. I'm not a rich, light skinned, skinny hot twink. I don't have money up the arse to keep you as a trophy boyfriend. What do you think about open relationships?" Eric blurts out.
"You what?" Adam squeaks.
"You know...being with each other, but putting your fingers in different pies...with other people"
Adam pulls Eric into him and slides on top on him to straddle him. Not sexually, though and gave him a stern glare. "Open fucking? I love you, you delusional prick! Why the fuck would I wanna share you for?" He asked, crossing his arms, distressed, clearly waiting for a explanation.
"Wow! The L word huh?" Eric nods trying not to smile so much, but he couldn't help it.
"You practically forced me to say that shit. With your outrageous bizarre bat violence. Your disappearing act, and your open relationship bullshit" Adam shakes his head.
"Come here, let me kiss your eye better" Eric said raising his arms up to him.
"Nope, still hurts" Adam admits. "Although if you really wanna make it up to me...there are other areas of my body that you can kiss...or lick...or bite...gently though, you freak"
Adam smirks as he leans in and presses his lips against his. After all the guilt Eric's forgotten how much of a heavenly kisser his boyfriend is. He's all beauty. Gentle stroking, and feather light kisses, until Eric's mum gets back. He smiles as Adam grabs and pulls on his hoodie, trying to make himself presentable in the mirror before they go down to greet her.