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goldenboyrichards:
Adam couldn’t wrap his brain around Cole’s words. There was no way. No way he had… because how could he be here now? If that had happened, why didn’t his family say anything? How could they just not remember?
They had left his room exactly the same, down to the dirty clothes littering the floor and the half-drunk can of New Coke on his bedside table. At first, when he’d come home and seen that, he’d felt odd about it. Like he was a ghost, returning to the place he’d felt most comfortable haunting. Maybe… maybe there had been some truth to that feeling. But that was just impossible. Right? How could someone be dead for three years, then just come back like nothing had happened?
Adam stopped that train of thought in it’s tracks. “No, I… no.” He said more firmly, shaking his head again. His hands let go of Cole briefly, only for his balled up fists to scrub at his eyes. “I didn’t die, Cole. I didn’t…” Adam repeated, voice pleading with Cole. Because he didn’t die. He couldn’t. What did that mean if he did? And what did it mean if he didn’t? “I left. I was in a commune. I’m sorry.” Adam repeated, voice breaking on his apology.
And then Cole was kissing him, and the distress he’d just felt melted away slightly. It wasn’t gone. It was just shoved away to the back of his mind, deep in a dark place where Adam could hold on to it until he felt ready to process something that huge. Adam’s arms returned to Cole, wrapping around him and pulling him close. For the first time ever, Adam didn’t really care that they were in a semi-public place. Mrs. Sanders be damned. He kissed Cole sweetly, making up for the three years they’d been apart as best as he could. Adam ached for that time back, but he would take what he could get now. As they pulled away, Adam leaned his forehead against Cole’s, sighing at how right it felt. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
xx.
Cole’s heart leapt into his throat at Adam’s pleading tone. He wished he hadn’t said anything, and just let Adam go on believing that he’d gone away to a commune. But Cole had never been able to lie to Adam, nor did he ever want to. He knew that, although it was entirely too much to understand, Adam would want to know. Maybe he even needed to know, so he could stop punishing himself for ‘leaving Cole.’ But only when he was ready, only on his own terms-- Cole felt a pit in his stomach as he remembered Max’s description of the Mindflayer and how it possessed its victims. Something akin to rage flared up in Cole’s body thinking about it hurting Adam, but he buried the feeling for now. That was something to ask Max about later.
Meeting Adam’s eyes, Cole shook his head. “Please stop apologizing,” he said, brushing a stray tear off of Adam’s cheek. It made his chest physically ache to hear the pain in his voice. “I don’t blame you. I know it wasn’t your fault.” Cole’s eyes welled up again as he offered Adam a smile. “I’m just so glad you’re here, that you’re okay. I love you. I always will.”
Cole paused again, barely resisting the urge to kiss away his questions. “I might have some answers... about what happened. We can talk about it, whenever you’re ready,” he promised, taking Adam’s hands and squeezing them for comfort. Distantly aware that they were still on the Richards’ front porch, but unwilling to leave Adam, Cole tugged on his hand. “Want to come over to my place?” he asked, knowing that his house afforded them more privacy, as it was only him and his mom.