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“So—-you got stood up, or?“ a question that held a hint of sharpness, that begged in sly an answer. He didn’t know the details, hadn’t gotten the pleasure of eavesdropping on Adams' fall from grace, and honestly? He wanted to make himself feel better. Could guess that Adam had struck out, but not how? So asking was his own fun and games. A distraction from his own bout of misery by taking a light jab at the other man.

Like he’d said—-they didn’t have to be nice with each other, to each other. They could just be how the ******** ever and there was a freedom in the harmlessness of it all. Or so Waru thought— looking away from the Ruby eyed man to his own reflection in the heavily tinted windows.

The ride was sleek, whippy, had umph in the engine and Waru almost enjoyed being able to just lean back and feel it happen. The twist of a curve, the speed at a green light. A mean ride, for a mean b*****d. Waru smiled in spite of the implication of that.

‘We don’t have to be nice—‘ and there lay the fantasy, the untouched other that he’d never ask of anyone else in this exact same way. Because Waru thought himself to, on average, be a nice guy. At least wanted to be that, craved it like a second skin. So to have the chance to be something other? To have someone else be like that with him and have it all mean nothing when the lights went on and the sun came up and the ‘back to normal’ switch flipped into position again?

A roleplay without consequences — a letting off of complications — a fight he would never win and the surrender was fun too! Working for that and against it and knowing nobody he loved would die in the aftermath of something mentally explored.

“Or you struck out—heh—did your competition make you nervous? Th’other bag of money in town. Was he there too—“ He didn’t mean Ren, wasn’t anything for last names, or grandsires surnames, or — But brand names? When someone puts their s**t on the side of a bank, or a store? If he’d seen it in an ad? The way he thought he might know Treys mothers reputation better n her sons because the woman’s name was on woman’s s**t and he liked women — n’so cared just enough to look at a picture.

Maybe caught Trey there in the eaves — running the fancier half — wearing a cologne men liked — a chain someone would buy as an expensive gift out of a catalog because Trey had worn it?

And suddenly—

“They don’t do ‘bangable CEO’s monthly’ calendars though…do they?!” The least serious, and Waru somehow managed to make himself laugh at the idea, to break his own malaise as the view steamed by and the only thing that illuminated them were the low interior strip lights that lined the console and dash for night driving.

Waru laughed from the passenger seat, entertained by Adams' honesty, relieved by it even. The way it felt fair to share and share alike, pangs received in equal measures for all! It was ********– It was justice in the barest sense of the word. It was good enough for Waru, just to know he wasn’t alone in something like this.

Not that Adam’s situation sounded as deep, as complex, but? Company rivals – damn – Waru imagined what a b***h of a thing that was, to strike out, to run into the unexpected and have it derail things. Not even in a way one would’ve hoped for—

“You should introduce me to him sometime-–” He let his grin be as sharp as it wanted to, his tone as playful and encouraging. He meant it, every word, every ill intended sentiment behind each little letter. He could see it, could sell it to Adam if it needed selling. Was apparently good at that when it came to his own damn self? Always for ******** sale – but at the same time? Utterly unable to be bought – a goddamned sentient oxymoron.

“For shits n’ giggles, Adam. We could make a good time out of it, at a party or some s**t? We’d both have fun! Or, hell, at least I would! And? I’cn be pretty ********’ people-ready tooo–” Waru cooed as he settled back into the seat leisurely, nearly sighed for its expensive comfort.

The way it made him miss the car that Ren had gifted him, how he wished he’d brung it, was glad he didn’t, and wondered if he should’ve gone home with his husband or – or – ********? Called the man after? Called Aelius? His friend, the one he’d brought with him and should’ve at least danced with! He should’ve checked the club n made sure they got home safely, either of them—

Heeeeee….

‘I will, I will, I will – ******** it I’ll text them both before we get to this bastards place and it’ll be fine!! S’fine….’

Waru’s expression seemed to twist in on itself as he did finally get his phone out, as he sent out something perfunctory and missing his usual emoji laden flair. He had to, didn’t he? Step one of only being an accidental a** and not a ******** intentional one was checking in on people and consequently? Letting them know you were alive and — not where you were going – just – just alive….

Waru thought that would be good enough.

A simple: [ ‘Sorry for the ******** up, hope you got home safe. Will call in morning.’ ]

Copied, pasted, sent out in duplicate. And maybe he did add one single sunshine and a chicken and a party symbol at the end, but that was all!! That was where he was stopping!! That? That was where he was done—

“N’less it’s people closest to me apparently? Heh – cause you’re right on the money, about all those wealthy heirs comin’ out in droves.” Though Waru truthfully didn’t know where his husband’s money came from, how he got it, what business the man was in charge of that leant to such affluent ever flowing wealth seeming at his fingertips at all times. He didn’t ask because he didn’t care, because he didn’t want to know, because nothing he liked about the man himself had anything to do with what sort of weight his wallet carried.

The same went for Aelius, though? Didn’t it? Dead to the world in so many ways, dead to his mother and that trusty fortune, but a wealthy heir none-theless. If only in technicality, and the fact that Waru knew Trey would drain the world dry of its resources if only to give Aelius a fraction of whatever trust the boy should’ve had back. To double those dividends n’return ‘em.

Save for how Aelius wouldn’t ******** take a handout or touch a penny. How Waru could vibe with that up to a point. He got it, and even when he didn’t? He could be persuaded to get behind the idea of it.

“Like my husband, apparently?” Waru hissed solely at himself, wincing as he ground the palm of his hand into his eyes ever so briefly, tucking the phone away. “And my friend…whose not wealthy – but just…no – nevermind – ********, t’night wen’t so damn poorly.” Rolling his eyes skyward as he prayed to something unknown for a reprieve from himself. Blinking over at Adam with the realization that he’d been granted that…..

If god sends a boat, and a helicopter, and a floating ladder with wings kinda s**t? Except here Waru was wondering if maybe he’d picked the option where he drowned in spite of all the other ‘help’ on offer that he could’ve taken, all the people he could’ve asked for.

And he was in the car with this one—

“I wasn’t expecting it, is all. I handled it worse n’ you drive." The look in his eyes said he didn’t mean a single word of it, how terrible a liar he was. Because Adam drove beautifully – and if Waru maybe wanted to egg him on? To push him to drive a little rougher – faster – to get them the ******** home, then ******** it, why not do it this way?

“You’re such a ******** liar—” there was no heat in the hisssed words or the way Waru rolled his eyes. He simply thought it was hilarious to listen to Adam apologize for something not his direct fault. Especially since it was the exact last thing Waru wanted from the man. He had people for that in droves; to feel sorry for him feeling sorry for himself. To help him mend his own wounded ego and slashed pride. None of those people would ever be Adam; not him, not for this. Sure as ******** not right now.

“But since I’m not entirely sure m’feeling sorry for any of the reasons I should be? Yanno, the right ones! I’ll let you get away with it. Go on, tell me summor’ sweet, sweet, bullshit while <********>” A bark of sound, a cry yanked free that became a laugh full of shock and horror! <********, he wanted to be mad about it, but couldn’t bring himself to be. Not at him, not for this, caught in the act of being happy against his own ******** will for how they ripped down the road and ******** anyone in their way! Any anger he tried to summon didn’t last, the initial fear wouldn’t stick, the thought of dying terribly next to this shitty man didn’t phase him enough to dull the overwhelming rush of adrenaline – or the unbidden joy that followed.

If Adam hadn’t been actively driving? Waru wondered if he would’ve socked him for the hell of it, to teach him a lesson for pulling stunts like this with him in the car! Save for how in the moment Waru needed both hands to hold his a** firmly in the seat as the forces of gravity yanked on him.

Save for how Waru loved every single second of it—

It made him think of Trey’s avalon, the way that man rode it like one of his ******** stallions. All one mind - two brains worth of it; a steady hand, total control, steel wrists and classiness. Of Trey, who had no time for Waru’s bullshit on some level. Who would only entertain him up to a point. Of Adam, who was indulgent in it so long as it got him his way….

“Here I thought Trey’d get the first finished car-crystal I made, but no? S’gonna be you isn’t it! You risky b*****d–” unable to hide his glee, too tired to try, too worn out to keep dredging up feelings that the blurr of lights through oil-pitch tint washed out of his mind. Waru giggled even as he cursed all of Adams' lineage. As he threatened the kind of retribution he knew he’d never enact on the most deserving man, the one ********’ next to him, playing chicken with a straightaway.

“If you kill me in this thing I’ll haunt your reincarnated ghost y’hear!! Jeezusshitting—”

“You are the most cocksure, egotistical—morenmeeven--y’fcknpsycho–” the glee that rushed from his lungs was snarled, sharp, full of grit as Waru bit down on another string of expletives, gasping with fresh joy. He had the urge to howl in agreement with the man regardless, even though he knew what they all knew.

The cold hard truth that ‘risks’ assured nothing, not even ‘wins’, n’yet? They’d both probably taken the risks regardless – would continue to – in different ways – on different plays. Waru would marry the burning ones, and Adam? Waru wondered if the man would’ve married the bank that’d burned down, some gilded event, in a black church, with a devil at the pulpit. The fever dream of imagining the red-eyed, slick b*****d next to him sliding a colored money band on a stack of frozen cash and kissing it passionately?

Waru’s next choked laugh was cracked, high, a string of sound that went on as he focused on throwing his back into the seat and pressing his feet into the floor and trying to keep hold of himself and his own breathless exhilaration.

As if the bio-lumen-essence was farrr-farr behind him, and every thought left three red lights back, and the sound of distant cop cars? A ********’ fading hallucination, because Adam was going too fast for anyone to have caught them.

Waru was happy – whether he deserved to be or not – whether he’d earned it or not, and for tonight? He’d let it be fine, in the seconds that whipped past, he’d forget having ever not been. When Adam spoke? Oh, attention caught and how could he not chance looking over at the man, seeing the world rush by, reflected in reds, in those too white teeth, in the darkness of his eyes.

“I know you do–” dark n honest, a rough purr that Waru felt in his lungs and blamed such on the vibration of the wind snatching over the vehicle like a cocoon. Pretending to be blind to the opulence, to the sprawling wealth, to the massiveness of it all. His gaze fixed on Adam as the man pumped the breaks n guided them in with practiced ease, like he’d done it all before.

Waru shouldn’tve found that subtly evocative on some base level, n’yet? Skill with anything thrilled him in the same way a lack of it did. They were two things which could never be faked, which could only be real in the moment. A person who was awkward, who was clumsy, a person who wasn’t because they’d practiced that thing a thousand times, because it was their talent.

Both honest, maskless, showing a real face.

Waru craved that most – grinned in delight for reading it all over Adams features, there in the man instead of in all the gaudy s**t that surrounded them.

“You’re doing me, right? S’ah thing m’sure you know—though? You could always up n surprise me by not!” sprawled out beside Adam and laughing still as they rolled up on the man's mansion.

Waru was not so grown that he wouldn’t stick out his tongue at Adam, was grown enough that it looked childish on his face, and yet there he was, doing it. Ready to pull out the old; ‘I’m rubber you're glue — so ******** you!’ Only to find that he didn’t have to, because Adam was, in many ways, right. Waru would concede on certain points, that he thought they were both childish asshats? Definitely one of those points! That they both had t’be out of their minds?

He supposed he could amend the ‘psycho’ down to a ‘crazy’ and leave it at that.

“T—tea?!” Owlishly blinking as the car was shut off and he could fully catch the other man’s voice over the engine's purr. How he was so sure he’d misheard, needed to clean out his ears, to wait for all that howling to die down quiet. “I’m sorry— wh—“ Of all the s**t he’d expected? Tea? Movies? A deadass, honest to gods, talk-therapy session at the hands of Adam, and—-

“Oh-wh—hey!!” Out after Adam like a shot, the smile stayed on, flickered only briefly — “Yeah, sure, let’s try some Baliwood films n historical Chinese dramas—“ and some were action and some were musicals, and all of them were technically fantasy and not historical at all? But it felt like looking back in time! And Bajirao was a classic!!

The best part about not knowing a language meant he just got to watch, no subtitles, no dubs. All visuals and sounds and making up his own story as things progressed.

“You’re kidding me, right?! Adam— aaadmmm —-“ He was willing to laugh it off as they hit the door, stalking up after the man, waiting with patience as key in lock turned and — Waru let his gaze linger in Adams still back like a pair of lasers, warm, ready, impatient.

He waited because he had to, because the man who’d hee his keeper of the evening was busy keying the lock open real slow n purposeful. I’m a way that made Waru want to spin him around and pin him there if he didn’t hurry the hell up!

Hilarious, controlling, ******** that I wasn’t specifically looking t’be therapized on your couch of wonders over scones you made out of puppy tears and cranberry-orange liquor, but?” Squinting like he could still see atoms of the club on Adams suit, like there was a hair there, something he could make up an excuse for as his hand crept closeeeeerrrr——

‘If I shove him right when the door opens…’

“Y’r kidding, right?” Hovering, second guessing himself, wondering if Adam actually meant what he said this time. Waru hesitated, like a flinch, because if Adam did want something friendly?! <******** if Waru wanted to be the bad guy for the third time that night!

“If not then— I mean — s**t — I’d like nothing more n’t’just talk to you all night…only talking…and nothing else. Over tea.” The awkwardness of the lie of an admission nearly caused him physical pain, made his teeth itch, and he believed in himself! He could do it! If it ended up being what Adam really wanted?

“Hot or cold — loose leaf or the ones in the baggies —“ Suddenly glad to have Adams back to him, if only so he could hide the way his face fell, his hand with it, and the grimace he had to swallow like bitters while he slowly resigned himself to maybe crying on Adams couch for a whole nother reason entirely.

Cathartic? Sure! Painful? Absolutely. Pleasant — Waru would withhold judgement on that until the end…

Holy s**t he’s actually serious—!!!

Waru didn’t think he could wipe the shocked look off his face quickly enough to hide it, that he might’ve been caught trying to steel himself of the comical expression. He couldn’t remember a time they’re ever just — *talked* — before!

Maybe a few times during? Maybe that first time when he’d gotten a tour of the place; because the ******** just had to show off (not because Waru had asked! Even if he had..) He couldn’t even remember now *why* exactly he’d been at Adams to begin with!

Had it been a whole year ago already? Longer even—

And if he’d offered to fix something — some offhand comment that’d steamrolled into him crouching under Adams plumbing with pliers in hand. There was banter — the goal of getting along for the sake of Emmy n Team alike. He always wanted to be friends with everyone — but not Adam — Adam? He wanted to be *aware* of, and everything after that had been accidentally on purpose.

The way he’d needed to keep himself busy back then, constantly. Like a blade needing fire and hammer to cure it before it cracked. Pressure. The way he’d craved it then, and it all felt like some distant nightmare; the one where the person he'd centered his entire world around, the whole of his life, the feeling that it was falling apart at the seams and he couldn’t fix any of it, only watch, and wait, and….

And how Borax had looked to him like a butcher, a poor man’s surgeon, a last resort, but with needles n twine at the ready and a strong stomach for bullshit. Devil's eyes and a spear that he could make any number of jokes about. A man unburdened by — any ******** number of things as far as Waru could tell.

Unburdened..unbothered…easy to get along with…circumstantially speaking….

Waru found himself in the present, mimicking Adam's motions whilst feeling that impatience again, all coiled up like a snake in his guts as Adam took his time; shutting the door, kicking his shoes to the side. Waru shrugged his yellow shield of a jacket off and hung it on an available hook before trailing after Adam; puppylike, in mismatched, sock clad feet, a mesh tank, club-worthy jeans and little more.

The facade of vulnerability.

Even if less felt like more, and shedding the look of the club by a single piece was freeing. He thought maybe Adam was right? It’d been hours and he was a mess and — movies and tea and talking — ******** — but if Adam was right?!

‘Shouldn’t I be done at some point? There has to be an end line, last stop for everything, right?! So — this can be it — don’t gotta do more — S’fine!’

The flinch in his jaw was him grinding his teeth, quietly, but grinding them nonetheless as he argued with himself internally. Wondered about being too much —

“Loose leaf, always. Black.” Quick and easy answer, the sound of his Husbands name had him zoning back in — blinking at the setup of kettle and the act of...no, the reality of tea making! “If you’ve got anything with orange and honey? Or— there was this one from Paris? Kind of light n fruity—really nice actually.” honest, perplexed, and Waru tried to find a place to settle himself. Could admit to craving a hot mug of tea — if only so he could drain it and throw the empty cup at an offending wall — and then clean it up — and then….

Adam was really, genuinely, honestly making tea? Holy ********. He was being serious!!!

“Since when—aren’t you a coffee guy? I could see you switching t’light roast for the caffeine thing…but…I didn’t realize you’d gotten into tea making. Though—-s’kinda a hazard of being on the team, huh? I remember when Ei’ went through a coffee phase for Haru…” shaking his head in disbelief before resigning himself to leaning against the pristine countertops and watching; bottom lip bitten, his eyes fixed on Adams busy hands, looking for all the world like he didn’t quite know how to get comfortable with the shift in the nights expectations.

All that rile-up, the work-up, and now? Tea!! Legitimate, soothing, yummy tea, and it even smelled good! The touch of thick china in his hands – not ceramic or porcelain like he’d expected, but something of good quality. He knew the difference now more than he’d like to admit to – blamed it on any number of lovers – on a husband or two – on his best boy who had a fanaticism for collectible tea nick-nacks and delicate cup n’ plate combos.

Such delicate things that required a distinct touch—

He supposed Adam was right, how tea was a team hazard as much as it was a bonding exercise. The way they surrounded themselves with buffers of food and drink, the way that always seemed to bring out the best in each of them, that innate family style sharing n caring. Even if the goal wasn’t to foster so deep a bond – when that s**t was ********’ necessary? Waru’d always thought it helped, that it was a good idea when someone suggested it, ran it. Anything with fun at the center.

That – and the tea gifts were good! Lasted for ******** ever….

“Might do it on purpose even? For the nostalgia of it–” he couldn’t keep from teasing, from trying to cast another hooked line, to lean a little more provocatively against the countertop; like he didn’t care if everything was polite, chatty, or simple.

He was the one who was fine with it! Or he would be? So long as he kept telling himself he was? Then he’d get used to it! N’itd be fine!

“N’if I burn my tongue? I might have an excuse t’do less talking…” his eyes followed before his body did, and the next thing he knew? He was in step in line after Adam, disbelief in the tilt of his head, the squint of his gaze. Like he didn’t trust all the calm, easy, honesty…

But Tea was good for that? Calmness, n some kinda nutrient that started with an L? That sounded like a dinosaur n was – whatever – great for ‘nerves’ or some s**t like that? So maybe Adam was just trying to give him a nice calm easy and he was being the over-eager-a** about it all! Waru wondered, pulled on his own skeptical reins, blowing along the rim before taking a not-scalding sip. Just in case he actually would need to talk tonight, about feelings, and the club, and…..

“So–that I won't interrupt the movie…s’what I mean by that….wooow this is…I keep forgetting how nice some of these rooms are? N’everyones style of a place is so different! Nothing cookie cutter for you guys..” a low whistle, part admiration, part realization that everything in Adams house suited his own personal style. The way the man shared it not at all and with no one else; herein he was king atop the mountain in so many ways.

It was loud – it was everywhere –

“That is such an insane question t’ask—-“ Waru snorted, reconsidering, if the question had been asked by anyone else to anyone else? The glimmer of a smirk that crossed his face as he decided it was maybe not so insane to ask of him. “Though — maybe not for me— mmhnn— the answers no, though. But if I ever decide that I do? Th’options always available to me.” Not with Adam, for sure. Of all the things he wanted with this man? Fire n heat sure as hell weren’t one of them—

Everything else though—

For everything else? Adam maybe had his skills. The kind that Waru preferred from him and no one else. Like— the way he had a thing for nails with everyone; freshly trimmed, short n smooth, wicked sharp and long, painted prim n proper. It was ********’ pavlovian at this point, his response to the way certain people wore them on any given day.

So hearing the clink* - clink* - clink* - The rapid little shuffle of nails over cup. He would’ve been lying if it didn’t catch his attention once more, like a finger in the collar of his shirt pulling — even if it was all in his head? He still felt it; every rough scrape, and gentle tease, and….

He felt it like a line of mounting tension, a brush of cold air, and only half wondered if the b*****d was doing it on purpose? But Adam went on about finding something to put him to sleep with!? And his mouth fell open, to blow out a breath over the rim, to vent his frustrations on the steam while taking a far healthier swallow of too hot too good—

‘There’s no way he just wants to watch a movie?!’

But the place was plush, decadent, and encouraged sitting. Hell it could’ve encouraged sleeping with how large the chairs were, the way it looked to him like they reclined all the way back.

“I—you’re serious? We’re just gonna…” and he needed the ask, even if he frowned for it, his forehead wrinkling with confusion. He wanted to make comments, instead he was polite, fidgety, but polite. “No, yeah, sure! I’ll sit. N’you’re welcome! I mean— the compliments earned — the place is nice…”

Nice, and unlike what he was used to, but still more homey. It didn’t sprawl out the same way Treys did, didn’t feel like it was made for endless parties to charm far away fashion designers. The most personal place in Treys home was his own private spaces? The one his family and guests weren’t allowed.

Adams was more open than that — but more personal all over too — and it was all so different than Rens! Less white, less marble, less — Waru would admit to feeling like Adams place was about *Adam* — that the man lived there n left his mark on it.

That with Ren? The man felt like the centerpiece in every room — and everything else was cold without him — and how the house had nothing of him because without him the house was just; devalued, useless, empty. The wealth so grand Ren could s**t on it and throw it away because *he* was the prize — and everything else? A show. A glamour.

Waru wasn’t sure which he liked more —

But realized the answer was easy. It was Treys Garage, seconded by Rens Garage (because his gift of a fast baby was there!) n’followd up by Adams….

Basement.

If he was being honest? Everything downstairs in the man’s was just more familiar — less daunting — but at least here he didn’t feel like a trespasser? Like he’d mess things up by breathing wrong, or scare a butler, or —

He was invited in a different way; riskless, easy, impossible to ******** up. It was a reprieve. A vacation from himself and hell if he didn’t enjoy that sometime.

Except tonight!! With Adam being weird n — gods — friendly?! Nice?!

“I’ll just— be here? N’uhm— admire the decor?” He bit his lip as he found a more central chair to flop into; only half-careful of the sloshy liquid heat he held. Heaving a sigh that carried notes of outright petulance, and then became a groan of a sigh, because yeah, shoot him, the chairs were nice!!