last_adam | (no subject)

(no subject)

*Adam waits by the lake. He looks around him, making sure everything is ready. He's a little nervous, and takes a few deep breaths. Everything will go fine. It would. He's Adam, he can do this. He's got everything he needs, and he sits and waits.*

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Right, then. Right.

*Adam's head continues to nod as his hands clench the fabric. He looks upwards to meet Pauls eyes and-*

Oh.

oh.

Oh?

Just oh?

*Adam swallows and opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out*

*Cockily*

Does that mean you're impressed?

I-

ummmm.

*Suspiciously*

Is this a British thing?

*coughs and shakes his head as if to clear it*

Hrmm? Is what a British thing?

*Sighs*

Adam.

Give me my trousers.

*Adams eyes are blank*

Hmm? What?

*he looks down at the clothes he's nearly torn apart with his hands*

Oh, these?

Yes. Those. Unless you have a better idea?

No! I, um.

*were it actually possible for Adam to turn any more red, he would*

*Paul is enjoying himself far too much*

You, um, Adam?

Uh uh

*it is unclear whether this is a statement or a question*

Adam?

*And Paul is dressed again, squeaky clean, with the addition of a fedora*

okay, then.

*Adam stands up and brushes his hands on his now-dry clothes*

Well. Then. Right. I guess we'll just, um. Go back in, then.

right.

*Paul grabs Adam by the wrist with a very clean, cold, hand.

And places the fedora on Adam's head with the other.*

Do what you want. Always.

*Adam adjusts the fedora, stands up straight and leans over to kiss Paul before grabbing his wrist and yanking him along behind him, running towards the bar*

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