Friday

This is probably the first time in a long time that Tommy is glad he doesn't have any school today.

He wakes up early, dressing in a white tank-top, a green and blue plaid over shirt unbuttoned, and loose fitting black jeans. It's casual, it's comfy, and it covers the bruises from this week. He doesn't want Adam to see them anymore than he already has. He's got his shoes on, looking around his small room. Where is it… He saw it just last week, he knows that he did. 'C'mon, where are you at?' He thinks to himself, shoving a few dirty articles of clothing aside before grinning ear to ear. There it is. He grabs his case and carries it over to his guitar, packing it quickly and fluidly.

Spinning on his heel, he grabs a pick out of a small jar from the floor, filled about half way with multi colored picks of various brands. He collects them, see. It's a hobby of his, and especially helpful considering he loses them a lot of the time. Pocketing the pick, he slings the guitar over his shoulder (thank God for the cloth case), and slipping out of his room. The house is quiet; his dad came home late last night, long after he and Adam returned to their houses. He faked sleep so as to not be bothered. Not that it mattered; Richard stumbled in, went to the bedroom, and passed out on the bed next to his mother.

Quickly jumping into the bathroom, Tommy checks his reflection in the mirror, running his fingers through his hair. He glances at his teeth and grimaces. He doesn't have time to brush them, he promised to meet Adam around, uh, now. He grabs the bottle of Listerine, uncaps it, and pours some of the contents straight into his mouth. He swishes and swirls the burning liquid in his mouth, before spitting it out. Good enough. He rinses out the sink and dashes out, hopeful to make an escape before anyone can hear him awake. If they find he's gone, they'll assume he's at school. They don't know his schedule, thank fuck.

Tommy passes through the dining room, into the living room, before grabbing his phone off of the table. Three steps and he's pulling the door open, slipping into the hot, Los Angeles morning, and closing the door quietly behind him. He glances over to the Lambert household, seeing Adam coming out of his own house as Tommy is. The blond smiles and he jumps off the porch, dashing across the lawn to meet Adam on the sidewalk. The ginger glances down, grinning wide as Tommy falls in step beside him.

Adam's wearing casual with a touch of nice. Light, grey t-shirt covered with a black, deep-V vest unbuttoned, faded blue jeans and black boots. His nails are painted black (something Tommy wishes he himself could do, but Richard would maim him for it), and there's a silver ring on his middle finger. Tommy reaches over, taking Adam's right hand in his left, and they lace their fingers together. His heart flutters in his chest and his breathing is light as Tommy leans his head briefly into Adam's shoulder, smiling softly. This is what he's been wanting to do all week.

Has it really only be so short of time?

"How'd you sleep?" Adam asks him as they walk further down the street. Ten am and the sun feels like it's mid afternoon. But Tommy kind of likes it. It's comforting, almost. Though he knows he's going to be a little crispy when he gets home today. Oh well.

"Good. Undisturbed." Shit. He didn't mean to say that. Though it was true… shit, shit.

"Why would you be disturbed?" Adam responds quickly, curious. Shit, shit, shit.

"No dreams, no noises. I'm usually a light sleeper." Tommy explains. It's not far from the truth. He is a light sleeper, but that's because he has to be. 'Or maybe you choose to be. After all, you've trained yourself to wake up at the slightest of noises, just in case she needs you. But Dad made it clear that if you try to help, you'll face consequences worse than death. Do you do it to torture yourself, Thomas? To listen to her screaming when you know you can't do anything about it?' He shakes his head mentally. He doesn't want to think about any of that right now. Not when he's with Adam.

"Ah." They walk in silence for a few moments. Adam circles his thumb against the back of Tommy's hand, and the blond smiles slightly. It's comforting and warm. He likes the feel of Adam's hand in his. It's like it belongs there. Two puzzle pieces that have been missing each other's company for a long while. 'Tommy, shut the fuck up.' He tells himself, restraining from face-palming.

"You okay, baby?" Tommy shivers lightly at that. Baby? He's never been anyone's baby… And it's nice that Adam has nicknames for him already. They're not even dating. Hell, there's so many things that they aren't, but maybe that can be changed. Tommy can only hope as he looks over to the ginger, smiling and nodding once. He's more than okay. He's happy. Carefree. Oblivious to the aches of his back and chest because right now none of that matters to him. He's in the presence of an angel. An angel with beautiful blue eyes and strawberry blond hair.

"So, where're we going?" Adam asks him after another few moments, and Tommy smiles. He was planning on taking Adam back to the river side, but he decided against it at the last moment. He knows of another place to take the ginger. A place just as beautiful, if not more so.

"Somewhere special." Tommy says, and nothing more. Adam chuckles and shakes his head as they walk down the street, before veering down a path through a small park. They're about ten minutes walking from their neighborhood, so in the event of trouble, Tommy can get back easily and quickly. Yes, ten minutes walking. Five minutes or less running.

"Is that so?" Adam says with a small laugh, squeezing Tommy's hand as they continue onward. The park is a grassy area with picnic tables, a small playground, and dozens upon dozens of trees. Tommy leads Adam towards a cove-like area; a small circular gathering of trees with a pool of sunlight in the middle. It's secluded really, and few people bother to look around over here. It's perfect, and Tommy wants to spend time with Adam right here. Just the two of them and his guitar.

How romantic.

"Tommy—" Adam says in a breath, "this is beautiful." He stares at the small daises popping up in the sunlight, leaning their bright faces towards the light. Tommy lets go of Adam's hand and sits on a curve of the circle of light, facing the ginger. Adam's eyes gleam before he sits down closer to the center of the light, across from the blond. They're only a few inches away and Tommy pulls his guitar out of the case, plucking the pick from his pocket. He plays a few strings, old songs from previous years of work to warm up his fingers. Adam hums along to those he knows and smiles at Tommy when he doesn't.

"Okay…" Tommy says, strumming all six before looking up at the ginger, his heart fluttering. Adam looks so beautiful in this light. He has to remind himself to breathe, and he blushes, glancing away before looking back up shyly, his eyelashes fanning over his cheeks as he blinks a few times. "What do you wanna sing?" He asks. Adam gnaws briefly on his bottom lip, thinking about it. A soft breeze kicks up Tommy's hair, and he shakes he head to get his bangs out of his eyes.

"Surprise me." Adam says with a wide smile, his teeth gleaming. Tommy chuckles, and thinks for a moment. There's a lot of things that he could play, but he's not sure if Adam will know any of them. He licks his lips a little, settling on one he hopes Adam will know. He positions his fingers on the neck, taking a small breath, and playing softly. Chords, more than anything; beautiful intro. Aerosmith is full of geniuses.

Adam grins ear to ear, staring deeply at Tommy. But the blonde's head is bent over his guitar, his eyes closed as he feels the music flowing from his fingers. Adam sways slightly, feeling the words pooling on his tongue. He closes his eyes and opens his mouth, letting loose the first few words— Every time that I look in the mirror…

Tommy's eyes open quickly, playing evenly still despite the fact that he's awestruck by Adam's voice. So… He doesn't even have any words for it. He's simply awestruck. All these lines in my face getting clearer, the past is gone. His heart is pounding in his fingertips and Tommy is finding it hard to concentrate fully on his guitar. He's able to play without really thinking, because he's not thinking. But if he messes up or goes to fast, it's going to be a problem.

It went by, like dusk to dawn. Isn't that the way everybody's got their dues in life to pay? Yeah, I know nobody knows where it comes and where it goes. I know, it's everybody's sin. You got to lose to know how to win. Tommy swallows hard, keeping his head down and just listening to Adam's voice, his calloused fingers like gold on the strings, the pick flicking back and forth as he plays. He sways side to side, his neck loose as he bites down on his lower lip, swelling into the song before backing down again.

Half my life's in book's written pages. Lived and learned from fools and from sages, you know it's true. All the things come back to you! Sing with me, sing for a year, sing for the laughter, sing for the tears. Sing with me now if it's just for today, maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away. There was nothing more that Tommy wanted than to just leave. Leave this shit life he's had behind. He wants to take a bag of clothes, his guitar, his mother, Adam, Monte, and just go. His best friends. His family. To leave this nightmare behind.

Tommy stops playing. There's nothing to it, he just stops. And when he stops, so does Adam. The ginger's bright eyes lock on Tommy's face, but Tommy doesn't look at him. Not yet. He sets his guitar aside, placing the pick on the face, before taking a deep breath and look up at the singer. His heart is pounding in his chest, but he uncrosses his legs and leans forward, cupping Adam's face in his hands and pulling him close. Their lips mesh together like they belong, and Adam moans into Tommy's mouth, making the blond shiver.

He's never going to get over how amazing of a kisser Adam is. How sweet he tastes and just how right it is to kiss him. Sure, if his dad every finds out he's gay, he's never going to hear or feel the end of it (not that he really wants to think about that second part). But right now, he doesn't care what anyone thinks or says. He cares about Adam. He loves kissing Adam, being with Adam, talking with Adam, spending a morning with Adam… He loves Adam's company.

'Just say it.' No. He can't. He just can't yet.

Adam repositions himself and rolls Tommy over so that the blond is on his back, the ginger hovering above him. Tommy moans, his hands shifting up into Adam's red-blond hair, pulling on it gently. Their mouths move with one another as Tommy curls his leg around Adam's thigh, pulling him closer, their hips pressed together. Romantic and oh, so very hot.

'Say it.' No. Not yet. He's… He's not ready to say something like that yet. A few more weeks, months. At the very least. But Adam's making it hard to keep that firm as his lips trail against Tommy's throat like a warm feather. He lolls his head to the side, exposing more of his skin to the ginger, and Adam takes the opportunity. He kisses Tommy's neck over and over, before doing something that the blond wasn't quite prepared for. His bares his white teeth and bites down, softly at first before sucking harder and harder each time. Tommy's back arches and his eyes roll into the back of his head as he moans gently.

'Say. It.'

'I love you.'