FIC: Never Mind 4/?
Wherein Tommy learns about hermit crabs from Shane, and Adam gets some bad news.
Note: Events and timelines are conflated here, merely based on certain RL incidents. It’s fun to use actual incidents in fic but it’s not going to be an exact match. Obviously. Because this is fiction, darlings.
Also I apologize profusely for dropping a WIP for so long. Life happens. But I always had a sense of how it would end, and now the story is heading that way. By a week from now it’ll all be done and posted. Maybe there’s only one chapter remaining after this one. And then I can focus on writing new story arcs. It’s win-win, right?
UPDATE 04/24/12: I didn't get it done in a week! Very evil of me. This is because a trip that's been planned a long while is imminent and I've been swamped getting ready for it. Soon as I'm home, I shall write. In fact the next part is well underway... there's just no time for it right now.
NEVER MIND (4/?)
UCLA campus
Tommy can’t believe the nightmare that is parking on campus at UCLA. It’s worse than most horror flicks. Shane did warn him, but Tommy wants lunch and Shane’s in the lab, so he’s going to brave it. He feels like shit anyway for everything about last night, and the lunch? sticky note left on the face of the bedside clock nearly broke his heart.
Trying to parallel park into a tiny spot he found, it doesn’t help that his mind is spinning on the events of the night before. It takes a lot of jockeying back and forth until he manages to fit in without being a mile from the curb. He leaves his jacket in the car. If he thought he’d be out of place walking around a college campus, he’s wrong, because there are plenty of tattoos and unusual haircuts on display.
He had told Adam that he didn’t do “it” - meaning date a guy - to hurt Adam. It felt true when he said it, but is it true? He’s not sure. It’s so fucked up and now no one is going to be happy. And maybe that is his fault.
Shane’s directions are good and Tommy finds the lab without much trouble. The door is open; it’s a big, high-ceilinged room with benches and shelves and tables and mismatched chairs. A woman in a white lab coat points when he asks for Shane.
“Tommy!” Shane says, setting aside some scientific-looking gadget. “You didn’t get lost.”
“Was a near thing,” Tommy says.
Shane plants a smushy hello kiss on Tommy’s lips. Someone snickers from behind open shelving piled high with glassware. “Ignore that dork,” Shane says. “That’s just my advisor,” he adds and gets a loud guffaw in return. “Give me a mo,” he says to Tommy, “I have to get something settled, be right back.”
Tommy strolls around the lab, peering into various burbling fish tanks while being careful not to touch anything. He spies the advisor around a corner and gives a little wave, getting a friendly grin from this older dude with a bald pate, a huge beard, a filthy lab coat, and well-worn Birkenstocks.
A bit farther into the room he finds a tank that isn’t filled with water or fish. Instead it looks like a miniature beach scene, with sand and a corner of water and small shells littered everywhere. He hears Shane come up behind him, feels an arm slipping around his back.
“Hold out your hand,” Shane instructs, reaching into the aquarium and picking up one perfectly formed shell. He puts it on Tommy’s open palm.
The tiny shell is damp and it rocks a little, settling. “Tickles,” Tommy says; when it suddenly moves he squeaks out, “Hey!”
Shane curls his hand around Tommy’s quickly. “Careful, don’t drop it.”
Tommy watches in fascination as the shell meanders across his palm. “What is it?”
“A hermit crab.”
“It’s so tiny.”
“This one’s Fred,” Shane says, releasing Tommy’s hand once he’s sure that Tommy won’t drop the crab.
Tommy laughs. “How do you know it’s a boy?” Tommy raises his hand to eye level to get a closer look at the creature.
“I don’t know. It would have to come out of the shell for me to identify it. And it doesn’t want to do that.” Shane points inside the aquarium. “The big shell in the corner is Lulu.” He carefully takes Fred from Tommy’s hand and puts the crab back into the aquarium.
“That’s a lot of crabs,” Tommy says, peering inside. Shells are littered everywhere; some of them are moving.
“Most of those are empty shells. When a crab gets bigger, it needs a bigger shell. Lulu’s older than Fred so she’s bigger. They keep changing shells as they grow.”
“Yeah? Cool.”
“That’s why we put a lot of different-sized shells in there. They keep looking until they find the right one, until they find whatever is the right home for them.”
Tommy watches the tiny shells lurch around the mini-sandbar. “That’s so rad.”
Shane grins at Tommy. “Isn’t it? Hey, ready for lunch?”
“Um, okay, but maybe not seafood?”
It’s not hard to find a vegetarian café on campus. The food isn’t just okay, it’s awesome. As they dig into falafel wraps and fruit smoothies, Shane plays footsy under the rickety metal table in full view of everyone else in the place. He seems to have forgotten the whispered words the night before. Or being Shane, knows enough not to bring them up. Tommy still feels like a total shit over everything. Count on Shane to let unpleasant things slide. He doesn’t feel like he deserves Shane right now. Or anyone, really.
As they walk back to the lab building, Shane takes Tommy’s hand in his and laces their fingers together. “Hey, Tommy. Come over here.” He pulls Tommy over to a bench under a sheltering tree. He keeps Tommy’s hand in his. “I got some news this morning.”
Tommy’s stomach sinks.
“I got the postdoc at Woods Hole.”
Tommy feels like the world just dropped away. That place is 3000 miles across the country. And he knows it’s the one Shane wanted most.
“This is why I should never have started something.”
Tommy tilts his head and peers sideways through his bangs.
“I knew I wouldn’t be staying in Los Angeles,” Shane explains. “I’ve known all along that I’m going to have to move somewhere else for my postdoc. That’s one reason I really wasn’t in the market for a boyfriend.”
“Oh.” Tommy looks down at the ground. “I get it.”
“Tommy, no. God, I’m so glad I went to the bar that night. I’m so glad you were there.”
“Yeah, except…”
“No excepts,” Shane says firmly. “No regrets.”
“Okay, so,” Tommy starts. “You’re just leaving?”
Shane shakes his head. “Not for two months. I have to get through my thesis defense first.”
If he has to be honest with himself, Tommy feels crushed, but also kind of like a load has lifted from his shoulders: like he knew this was coming, and now that it’s here, he doesn’t have to wonder any longer. He knew it was too good to be true. He’s used to being wanted for his looks but not for long-term. He’s reluctant to let it go, though, because it’s Shane, and he’s been thinking that maybe Shane wants something long-term. “Aren’t there postdoc jobs in California?”
Shane puts his arm around Tommy's shoulders and rubs his hand up and down Tommy’s tattooed arm. “This has been my plan for years, baby. This is my dream career. It’s the best place for me to go next. By far.”
Well, there went that theory. “Okay, I understand.”
Shane squeezes Tommy’s shoulders and sighs. “This is why I wasn’t looking for someone. I knew I’d have to leave. But there you were and I couldn’t stop myself. You were so sweet and cute and everything.”
“What are we going to do?” It's an honest question. Tommy just can't see past the next five minutes right now. He's stuck in the present because all of a sudden the future seems weird and unknowable.
Shane hugs him fiercely. “I want to keep you, baby,” he says. “But how can I ask you to leave Los Angeles, your friends, your music?”
Just ask, Tommy thinks. What would it be like to leave Los Angeles? Traveling around the U.S. and then the world as part of Adam's band had been an incredible experience. Maybe living somewhere new would be a good idea. He’s been in Burbank his entire life. They have music on the East Coast, surely. Bands need guitarists and bass players. Yet for pretty much all his life, everyone he’s known has been in L.A. or nearby. The idea of moving to another city scares the shit out of him, even if there are days he’d like to do it. He knows if he moved somewhere, even somewhere exciting like, say, New York, he’d probably commit suicide out of depression if he knew no one there. So he’s always stayed in California.
But now? It’s different. He doesn’t really know where Woods Hole is, but he knows someone who’ll be living there.
Adam’s house
“You didn’t,” Sutan says with immense conviction.
“I did,” Adam answers.
“You didn’t,” Sutan repeats, his eyes going wider.
“He did,” Brad affirms. “He really, really did.”
“I’m not proud of it,” Adam huffs, “but in my defense, he drives me fucking insane.”
“Who, Tommy?” asks Sutan. “He drives everyone fucking insane.”
It’s been two months since the beach party, but Adam still hasn’t forgotten every single fucking detail. Partly because Brad won’t let him forget. They’ve gone around and around on it until both are angry at each other. They’ve approached Sutan to get a fresh opinion, embarrassing though it is to tell Sutan about how he literally grabbed Tommy and snogged him without proper consent.
“He kissed me back,” Adam grouses. “He’s always kissed me back.”
“Stage gay?” asks Sutan. “Isn’t that a special case, girl? Be reasonable.”
Adam glowers at Sutan, his dark eyebrows drawing together comically.
“You look like steam is going to come out of your ears in a minute.” Sutan pets Adam’s head. “Oooh, your hair feels freshly mown.”
“Sutan,” Adam says, enunciating every syllable very clearly. “Listen to me. He was getting into it until he had a guilt attack or something. Then he ran back to you-know-who.”
Sutan takes both of Adam’s shoulders into his hands and steadies him. It’s annoying that Sutan is actually an inch taller than Adam. He should have worn the medges. If he hadn’t invited Brad and Sutan to his house - if he’d met them somewhere else - he would have been wearing those damn medges.
“Adam,” says Sutan. Enunciating every syllable very clearly. “Tommy has a boyfriend. Tommy is happy with said boyfriend.”
“Said boyfriend is way hot,” Brad throws in.
Sutan and Adam both turn their heads to glare Brad down. Brad throws his hands up in mock surrender.
Sutan turns back to Adam. “Move on, Adam. Just move on. There are other men. Lots of other men. Very, very hot other men.”
“You don’t get it,” Adam groans. “I don’t want to hook up with Tommy. He’s not just someone else. He’s been driving me nuts for fucking years. I can’t stop thinking about him or what could have been. Where I went wrong or if I should have been able to see that a guy could turn his crank.”
“For fuck’s sake, everyone but you could see that,” Brad says, rolling his eyes.
“How?” Adam cries. “How could anybody see that? He said I was his only exception.”
“I think you said that, Adam,” Sutan tells him gently.
Adam looks flustered. “Really?” He turns to Brad. Brad nods. “Oh fuck.” He shrugs off Sutan’s hands and goes over to his hippie-witch-inspired sofa (the one with the toile fabric and the gold-painted rococo frame) and flops onto its cushions dramatically. “Guys, you just don’t get it. It doesn’t matter if Tommy is with that - that perfect specimen of manhood. It doesn’t matter if other men find me attractive. Years,” he says wonderingly. “All that time. I was an idiot to not realize what was in front of me.”
“It’s over,” says Brad softly, sitting down and pulling Adam’s head down to his shoulder, stroking his hair. “We all make mistakes, we all have to live with regrets. It’s done, it’s in the past, it’s over.”
Adam shakes his head mournfully. “No, it’s not. For me it isn’t over.”
Brad pets at Adam’s hair. Sutan takes the other free sofa cushion and nudges up against Adam. “We’ll be here for you, Adam. You know what they say, sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead.”
Adam snorts. He maybe even sniffles a little. So what if his eyes are moist? He’s never going to get over Tommy (not that he ever really got over Brad, either), but at least he’s got amazing friends to help him through the tough shit. “Love you both,” he says.
They pet and nudge him some more.
His landline rings.
“Ignore it,” Adam says. “Nobody move. I’m not ready to be alone.”
The phone rings three more times and then the answering machine picks up, Adam’s voice saying, “I’m out somewhere being fabulous. Leave a message.”
What squawks out of the machine next makes all three of them sit bolt upright. It’s Neil, hollering at the apparent top of his lungs, “Tommy’s gone! He’s just plain gone! Where are you, you fucker?”
Adam scrambles across the living room and punches the loudspeaker button. Brad and Sutan know all his business anyway, so there’s no need to take this private. “Neil? Neil! What happened?”
“Oh, you’re there?” Neil’s voice gets sarcastic. “Screening your calls?”
“Neil!” Adam yells.
“Okay, bitch. Chew on this. He moved the fuck outta L.A. Isaac said he’s gone and he took his favorite guitar and a practice amp and - he’s just gone. He left with Shane. Gone off to New England somewhere. Everyone is fucking freaking the fuck out - you need to fucking do something stat!”
Adam turns, helpless, to Brad and Sutan, who sit alertly on the edge of the sofa, watching him like a couple of housecats watching their human.
"Wow," says Brad after a moment. "I didn't see that coming at all."
TBC
Note: Events and timelines are conflated here, merely based on certain RL incidents. It’s fun to use actual incidents in fic but it’s not going to be an exact match. Obviously. Because this is fiction, darlings.
Also I apologize profusely for dropping a WIP for so long. Life happens. But I always had a sense of how it would end, and now the story is heading that way. By a week from now it’ll all be done and posted. Maybe there’s only one chapter remaining after this one. And then I can focus on writing new story arcs. It’s win-win, right?
UPDATE 04/24/12: I didn't get it done in a week! Very evil of me. This is because a trip that's been planned a long while is imminent and I've been swamped getting ready for it. Soon as I'm home, I shall write. In fact the next part is well underway... there's just no time for it right now.
NEVER MIND (4/?)
UCLA campus
Tommy can’t believe the nightmare that is parking on campus at UCLA. It’s worse than most horror flicks. Shane did warn him, but Tommy wants lunch and Shane’s in the lab, so he’s going to brave it. He feels like shit anyway for everything about last night, and the lunch? sticky note left on the face of the bedside clock nearly broke his heart.
Trying to parallel park into a tiny spot he found, it doesn’t help that his mind is spinning on the events of the night before. It takes a lot of jockeying back and forth until he manages to fit in without being a mile from the curb. He leaves his jacket in the car. If he thought he’d be out of place walking around a college campus, he’s wrong, because there are plenty of tattoos and unusual haircuts on display.
He had told Adam that he didn’t do “it” - meaning date a guy - to hurt Adam. It felt true when he said it, but is it true? He’s not sure. It’s so fucked up and now no one is going to be happy. And maybe that is his fault.
Shane’s directions are good and Tommy finds the lab without much trouble. The door is open; it’s a big, high-ceilinged room with benches and shelves and tables and mismatched chairs. A woman in a white lab coat points when he asks for Shane.
“Tommy!” Shane says, setting aside some scientific-looking gadget. “You didn’t get lost.”
“Was a near thing,” Tommy says.
Shane plants a smushy hello kiss on Tommy’s lips. Someone snickers from behind open shelving piled high with glassware. “Ignore that dork,” Shane says. “That’s just my advisor,” he adds and gets a loud guffaw in return. “Give me a mo,” he says to Tommy, “I have to get something settled, be right back.”
Tommy strolls around the lab, peering into various burbling fish tanks while being careful not to touch anything. He spies the advisor around a corner and gives a little wave, getting a friendly grin from this older dude with a bald pate, a huge beard, a filthy lab coat, and well-worn Birkenstocks.
A bit farther into the room he finds a tank that isn’t filled with water or fish. Instead it looks like a miniature beach scene, with sand and a corner of water and small shells littered everywhere. He hears Shane come up behind him, feels an arm slipping around his back.
“Hold out your hand,” Shane instructs, reaching into the aquarium and picking up one perfectly formed shell. He puts it on Tommy’s open palm.
The tiny shell is damp and it rocks a little, settling. “Tickles,” Tommy says; when it suddenly moves he squeaks out, “Hey!”
Shane curls his hand around Tommy’s quickly. “Careful, don’t drop it.”
Tommy watches in fascination as the shell meanders across his palm. “What is it?”
“A hermit crab.”
“It’s so tiny.”
“This one’s Fred,” Shane says, releasing Tommy’s hand once he’s sure that Tommy won’t drop the crab.
Tommy laughs. “How do you know it’s a boy?” Tommy raises his hand to eye level to get a closer look at the creature.
“I don’t know. It would have to come out of the shell for me to identify it. And it doesn’t want to do that.” Shane points inside the aquarium. “The big shell in the corner is Lulu.” He carefully takes Fred from Tommy’s hand and puts the crab back into the aquarium.
“That’s a lot of crabs,” Tommy says, peering inside. Shells are littered everywhere; some of them are moving.
“Most of those are empty shells. When a crab gets bigger, it needs a bigger shell. Lulu’s older than Fred so she’s bigger. They keep changing shells as they grow.”
“Yeah? Cool.”
“That’s why we put a lot of different-sized shells in there. They keep looking until they find the right one, until they find whatever is the right home for them.”
Tommy watches the tiny shells lurch around the mini-sandbar. “That’s so rad.”
Shane grins at Tommy. “Isn’t it? Hey, ready for lunch?”
“Um, okay, but maybe not seafood?”
It’s not hard to find a vegetarian café on campus. The food isn’t just okay, it’s awesome. As they dig into falafel wraps and fruit smoothies, Shane plays footsy under the rickety metal table in full view of everyone else in the place. He seems to have forgotten the whispered words the night before. Or being Shane, knows enough not to bring them up. Tommy still feels like a total shit over everything. Count on Shane to let unpleasant things slide. He doesn’t feel like he deserves Shane right now. Or anyone, really.
As they walk back to the lab building, Shane takes Tommy’s hand in his and laces their fingers together. “Hey, Tommy. Come over here.” He pulls Tommy over to a bench under a sheltering tree. He keeps Tommy’s hand in his. “I got some news this morning.”
Tommy’s stomach sinks.
“I got the postdoc at Woods Hole.”
Tommy feels like the world just dropped away. That place is 3000 miles across the country. And he knows it’s the one Shane wanted most.
“This is why I should never have started something.”
Tommy tilts his head and peers sideways through his bangs.
“I knew I wouldn’t be staying in Los Angeles,” Shane explains. “I’ve known all along that I’m going to have to move somewhere else for my postdoc. That’s one reason I really wasn’t in the market for a boyfriend.”
“Oh.” Tommy looks down at the ground. “I get it.”
“Tommy, no. God, I’m so glad I went to the bar that night. I’m so glad you were there.”
“Yeah, except…”
“No excepts,” Shane says firmly. “No regrets.”
“Okay, so,” Tommy starts. “You’re just leaving?”
Shane shakes his head. “Not for two months. I have to get through my thesis defense first.”
If he has to be honest with himself, Tommy feels crushed, but also kind of like a load has lifted from his shoulders: like he knew this was coming, and now that it’s here, he doesn’t have to wonder any longer. He knew it was too good to be true. He’s used to being wanted for his looks but not for long-term. He’s reluctant to let it go, though, because it’s Shane, and he’s been thinking that maybe Shane wants something long-term. “Aren’t there postdoc jobs in California?”
Shane puts his arm around Tommy's shoulders and rubs his hand up and down Tommy’s tattooed arm. “This has been my plan for years, baby. This is my dream career. It’s the best place for me to go next. By far.”
Well, there went that theory. “Okay, I understand.”
Shane squeezes Tommy’s shoulders and sighs. “This is why I wasn’t looking for someone. I knew I’d have to leave. But there you were and I couldn’t stop myself. You were so sweet and cute and everything.”
“What are we going to do?” It's an honest question. Tommy just can't see past the next five minutes right now. He's stuck in the present because all of a sudden the future seems weird and unknowable.
Shane hugs him fiercely. “I want to keep you, baby,” he says. “But how can I ask you to leave Los Angeles, your friends, your music?”
Just ask, Tommy thinks. What would it be like to leave Los Angeles? Traveling around the U.S. and then the world as part of Adam's band had been an incredible experience. Maybe living somewhere new would be a good idea. He’s been in Burbank his entire life. They have music on the East Coast, surely. Bands need guitarists and bass players. Yet for pretty much all his life, everyone he’s known has been in L.A. or nearby. The idea of moving to another city scares the shit out of him, even if there are days he’d like to do it. He knows if he moved somewhere, even somewhere exciting like, say, New York, he’d probably commit suicide out of depression if he knew no one there. So he’s always stayed in California.
But now? It’s different. He doesn’t really know where Woods Hole is, but he knows someone who’ll be living there.
Adam’s house
“You didn’t,” Sutan says with immense conviction.
“I did,” Adam answers.
“You didn’t,” Sutan repeats, his eyes going wider.
“He did,” Brad affirms. “He really, really did.”
“I’m not proud of it,” Adam huffs, “but in my defense, he drives me fucking insane.”
“Who, Tommy?” asks Sutan. “He drives everyone fucking insane.”
It’s been two months since the beach party, but Adam still hasn’t forgotten every single fucking detail. Partly because Brad won’t let him forget. They’ve gone around and around on it until both are angry at each other. They’ve approached Sutan to get a fresh opinion, embarrassing though it is to tell Sutan about how he literally grabbed Tommy and snogged him without proper consent.
“He kissed me back,” Adam grouses. “He’s always kissed me back.”
“Stage gay?” asks Sutan. “Isn’t that a special case, girl? Be reasonable.”
Adam glowers at Sutan, his dark eyebrows drawing together comically.
“You look like steam is going to come out of your ears in a minute.” Sutan pets Adam’s head. “Oooh, your hair feels freshly mown.”
“Sutan,” Adam says, enunciating every syllable very clearly. “Listen to me. He was getting into it until he had a guilt attack or something. Then he ran back to you-know-who.”
Sutan takes both of Adam’s shoulders into his hands and steadies him. It’s annoying that Sutan is actually an inch taller than Adam. He should have worn the medges. If he hadn’t invited Brad and Sutan to his house - if he’d met them somewhere else - he would have been wearing those damn medges.
“Adam,” says Sutan. Enunciating every syllable very clearly. “Tommy has a boyfriend. Tommy is happy with said boyfriend.”
“Said boyfriend is way hot,” Brad throws in.
Sutan and Adam both turn their heads to glare Brad down. Brad throws his hands up in mock surrender.
Sutan turns back to Adam. “Move on, Adam. Just move on. There are other men. Lots of other men. Very, very hot other men.”
“You don’t get it,” Adam groans. “I don’t want to hook up with Tommy. He’s not just someone else. He’s been driving me nuts for fucking years. I can’t stop thinking about him or what could have been. Where I went wrong or if I should have been able to see that a guy could turn his crank.”
“For fuck’s sake, everyone but you could see that,” Brad says, rolling his eyes.
“How?” Adam cries. “How could anybody see that? He said I was his only exception.”
“I think you said that, Adam,” Sutan tells him gently.
Adam looks flustered. “Really?” He turns to Brad. Brad nods. “Oh fuck.” He shrugs off Sutan’s hands and goes over to his hippie-witch-inspired sofa (the one with the toile fabric and the gold-painted rococo frame) and flops onto its cushions dramatically. “Guys, you just don’t get it. It doesn’t matter if Tommy is with that - that perfect specimen of manhood. It doesn’t matter if other men find me attractive. Years,” he says wonderingly. “All that time. I was an idiot to not realize what was in front of me.”
“It’s over,” says Brad softly, sitting down and pulling Adam’s head down to his shoulder, stroking his hair. “We all make mistakes, we all have to live with regrets. It’s done, it’s in the past, it’s over.”
Adam shakes his head mournfully. “No, it’s not. For me it isn’t over.”
Brad pets at Adam’s hair. Sutan takes the other free sofa cushion and nudges up against Adam. “We’ll be here for you, Adam. You know what they say, sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead.”
Adam snorts. He maybe even sniffles a little. So what if his eyes are moist? He’s never going to get over Tommy (not that he ever really got over Brad, either), but at least he’s got amazing friends to help him through the tough shit. “Love you both,” he says.
They pet and nudge him some more.
His landline rings.
“Ignore it,” Adam says. “Nobody move. I’m not ready to be alone.”
The phone rings three more times and then the answering machine picks up, Adam’s voice saying, “I’m out somewhere being fabulous. Leave a message.”
What squawks out of the machine next makes all three of them sit bolt upright. It’s Neil, hollering at the apparent top of his lungs, “Tommy’s gone! He’s just plain gone! Where are you, you fucker?”
Adam scrambles across the living room and punches the loudspeaker button. Brad and Sutan know all his business anyway, so there’s no need to take this private. “Neil? Neil! What happened?”
“Oh, you’re there?” Neil’s voice gets sarcastic. “Screening your calls?”
“Neil!” Adam yells.
“Okay, bitch. Chew on this. He moved the fuck outta L.A. Isaac said he’s gone and he took his favorite guitar and a practice amp and - he’s just gone. He left with Shane. Gone off to New England somewhere. Everyone is fucking freaking the fuck out - you need to fucking do something stat!”
Adam turns, helpless, to Brad and Sutan, who sit alertly on the edge of the sofa, watching him like a couple of housecats watching their human.
"Wow," says Brad after a moment. "I didn't see that coming at all."
TBC