Had To Finish This For THE PARALLELS <333 - Blog Posts

goldenboyrichards​:

Their relationship had never gotten to look like a straight couple’s. In high school, Adam didn’t get to walk down the hall hand in hand with Cole, or kiss him when they got to their classroom door. Cole couldn’t show up to Adam’s games with Adam’s jersey number painted on his cheek. They couldn’t be out. That just wasn’t an option in Hawkins, Indiana. But they had always managed to find little ways of reclaiming the public displays of affection that they deserved. From sitting too close on the bus to away games to a casual arm thrown across the other’s shoulder, Adam and Cole had always tried to show how much they loved one another in their own way. Cole wearing Adam’s clothes was probably Adam’s favorite, though. He loved seeing the other in his hoodies or sweaters; he’d even given Cole his fucking letterman jacket in school, almost daring anyone to say something. So giving him another hoodie tonight was more than worth it if it warmed Cole up and brought a smile to his face after everything that had happened. 

“Yeah, me too,” Adam agreed, leaning back on the log. If only it was that simple. If only they’d had some sort of weird, freaky, shared nightmare or something. But something had happened, hadn’t it? Adam had felt it just as much as Cole. And that didn’t comfort him in the end. “But, we’re okay. Right? We both lived. We’re both here. We’ll get through this.” Maybe that was too optimistic, but Adam had always brought that to their relationship. Where Cole was more pragmatic, more understanding of the cruelties of the world, Adam was kind. He was gentle. He saw the best in all situations and people. And right now, they needed a little bit of optimism before they….well, before they drowned. 

It killed Adam to turn Cole down. If he could just go, he would in a heartbeat. That had always been the plan, after all - for them to leave, runaway together and move out to California. Somewhere where they could just be together. Where no one would hurt them for holding hands, or would look at them strangely for living together. And Adam had ruined that. Whether he meant to or not, Adam had kept them from leaving, and he was doing it again. It broke him to do that, but he couldn’t just leave his family. Not right now. “I’m so sorry, honey,” Adam told him, bringing Cole’s hand up to his mouth and kissing the back of it. If someone saw right now, Adam would say he was fucking kidding or something - but he needed to comfort Cole. “No, baby, it’s okay to be emotional.” Fuck, Adam was emotional. He felt sometimes like his heart was too big for his rib cage - it expanded out, bloody and raw for the world to see and judge and treat however it saw fit. He couldn’t hide a fucking emotion if he tried. “You won’t.” Adam swore. “I promise, Cole, I’m going to do everything that I can to be with you forever. Whatever happened before - we’ll just make sure it doesn’t happen again, okay? Together.” 

xx.

We’re okay. We’re both here. We’ll get through this. Adam’s words washed over Cole, enveloping him in the comforting hug Adam couldn’t physically give him right now. Cole’s smile gained strength as he met his boyfriend’s eyes. There were plenty of times in their relationship that Cole wasn’t particularly welcoming of Adam’s optimism; but now, there was nothing he was more thankful for in the world. It felt like confirmation that Adam was back-- that the cruel, cold flash of him was truly dead and gone. Cole squeezed his hand back. “Yeah. We’ll get through this. We can get through it together.” 

Cole’s heart sank at Adam’s apology, and he quickly tried to remediate the effects of his words. “No no no,” he murmured, scooting closer to Adam so he could keep his voice low. “Never apologize, my love,” he narrowly resisted the urge to cup Adam’s face, brush his cheek. It’s okay to be emotional... it is! But Cole was scared, so scared that if he let the cracks show, Adam would see how utterly broken he was. How his entire life stopped and lost meaning when Adam died. The ache had ebbed and flowed throughout the three years of Adam’s absence, but it was constant. Under the surface, Cole always knew that part of him was missing. But that didn’t matter, what mattered now was that Adam was here. They had a second chance, and Cole wasn’t going to ruin it.

“I just want you. Us. It doesn’t matter where, love, I promise.” Cole willed himself not to cry, but he couldn’t help the feeling that the ache in his chest was more exposed than ever. He’d learned what to do with the hollow feeling, how to cope with it, but this fear? The knowledge of life without Adam was too heavy to hold. So, he accepted Adam’s promise, knowing fully that neither of them could promise forever, not really. “It won’t happen again,” Cole repeated, almost convincing himself of its truth. “I love you so much. Always.”

END.