Adam Young just wants to belong. (defyingly) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-06-23 20:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | adam young, john constantine |
Who: Adam Young + John Constantine
What: A phone call because Adam needs someone to Talk To
When: 6/22 after Adam receives a Very Important Message
Where: Adam’s room and... wherever John happens to be when his phone rings
Rating: PG, I’d say. Surprisingly.
Status: Complete
As soon as he got the okay, Adam got the phone and started dialing. He paced his room anxiously, one arm wrapped around himself in an unconscious hug, as he waited for John to pick up. His head was spinning and he was so distracted that he was hardly paying attention to the rings at all.
John’s phone rang, and he had to find it in the cluttered mess of his coffee table. Chas chattered in the background. “Ring ring ring! Treats?” said the puppy.
“Shut the fuck up now, I’m busy,” said John, who then held up his finger as if to tell the dog who was the boss in this relationship before actually answering his phone. “Hullo?” Why was it a question? He knew who it was.
When John answered, Adam stopped and spun on his heel. Not like the guy was actually here talking to him, but it had still sort of surprised him (even though he had called in the first place). It wasn’t Adam’s fault that his brain was so scattered. “Hi-Hey. John. S’Adam,” he stumbled out, unnecessarily. After all, he had told John he’d be calling.
He resumed his pacing, running a hand through his hair as no part of him could be still. “Um. Yeah. Hi.” Shit. He had words. It would probably be best to use them. The only problem was trying to get them out in the right way.
“Hi,” John repeated , and rose an eyebrow even though he was talking on the phone and that wasn’t actually all that useful a gesture. He flopped down on his couch, and was completely unsurprised when Chas followed, half in his lap. Wisely, the dog did not speak. “What’s up, then?” He lit a cigarette.
“Hi,” he parroted, dumbly. It probably could have gone on like this for a while. Thankfully, John’s question seemed to snap him out of his stupor. Closing his eyes, he actually physically shook himself to regain his wits. “Um, right.” He let out a shaky laugh and started pacing again, ruffling his hair somewhat compulsively. “Well, I told you about those two blokes who took me out for lunch on my birthday, right?”
“Something of it, yeah.” John leaned his phone against his shoulder awkwardly as he reached over to grab his ashtray and settle it on his knee. “What of them?” He hadn’t quite garnered all the details from that one -- whether it was because Adam hadn’t given enough detail, or because he hadn’t been paying enough attention, he couldn’t recall.
“Well,” he started, hedging a bit. After all, it was a sort of awkward thing to talk about with someone he hardly knew. Still, John was one of the closest things he had to a friend or family and that was more than enough given his current situation. “Well, the one -- Anthony -- he said that his husband -- Arthur. Well, that he was pretty fond of me or something. And then he asked if I wanted to live with them.”
He didn’t ask a question. In his mind, the question was sort of implied. Basically: what should he do? What he should make of the situation, really.
Giving a pause at that, John tilted his head back and chewed on his bottom lip -- a little surprised for Adam in general. Live with. More like adoption then, wasn't it? At least, that's what John assumed it'd have to be. He didn't know much about stuff like this in America, though.
"Did you like them?" he asked, after a beat.
During John’s pause, Adam went to work on wearing away a spot on his rug with the toe of his shoe. He’d gotten a bit dizzy with all of his pacing, so this was the next best thing. It wasn’t like he actually expected to get anywhere, but it wasn’t going to stop him from trying. Or at least it wasn’t going to stop him from kicking at the floor in general.
The question made him pause though. Did he like them? They were... nice. And they seemed to like him well enough. After all, they had just asked him to live with them. “They’re alright, yeah. Bought me lunch and a present after all.” The present really left an impression. It had been years since Adam had gotten an actual birthday present.
John considered that, taking a long drag from his fag and glancing over at Chas who was just staring at him and panting happily. It was fairly well behaved for a puppy, apparently.
"Well. S'pose it depends then, don't it? Whether you want what would essentially be family, or if you just want to wait it out another year and have complete detached freedom?" Sometimes John got straight down to the brass tacks of things -- he didn't sugar coat, or offer vague encouragements.
Adam nodded into the phone. “Yeah, s’pose so...” That was the issue, the main question at hand. Did he want to keep living in this house? Surrounded by the younger kids and the foster parents he alienated? The kids didn’t bother him so much (he actually liked them), but Sandy was a bit too invested and Rick tried too hard to be the ‘stern yet caring’ father.
On the other hand, he only had a year before he was out on his own. Did it make much sense to go off and play house with some couple who would be rid of him as soon as he turned eighteen? It would be nice to have a bit more space... He was already on the verge of sharing his room for lack of space.
John couldn’t say one way or the other what was better -- he’d grown up with parents, dysfunctional and awful as they were, and had spent more of his youth wandering the town and never bothering to come home than he had caring about his family. But he could see why someone might want one. If nothing else, he’d adored his sister (who had, effectively, raised him).
“Maybe you should go out to lunch with them again,” he said, after a moment. “Just to talk it out. One birthday meal and present doesn’t really answer all your questions, I expect.”
The only saving grace of Adam’s childhood had been his best friends: Pepper, Brian, and Wensley. Not that his parents weren’t perfectly good (when they’d still been in England), but they were parents. Kids didn’t want a lot to do with their parents. As for his own sister, well she would have preferred a little sister and she was nine years older. Not a lot of chance there for bonding.
“Yeah. Yeah, alright. That makes sense, right?” Of course you can’t really know someone from just one meet. You’re usually awkward and don’t know what to do. However, meeting someone who’d just asked you to move into their house isn’t always the most comfortable thing either...
“Yeah,” John agreed, because if he didn’t, he probably wouldn’t have suggested it. “That’s what I’d do.” Awkward or not, it was better to know more than to have to guess stupidly.
He smiled a little bit in relief. Not that he was stupid, but he probably wouldn’t have come up with that solution on his own, he wasn’t removed enough from the situation. “Thanks, mate. Really. ‘Preciate the advice an’ all.”
“Sure.” John put his smoke out in the ashtray and then sat forward enough to deposit the ashtray back on the coffee table. “You’ll have to tell me how that works out for you.” Not really a question.
“Alright,” Adam agreed easily. “I will.” After all, who else would he tell? Other than maybe Pepper. Eh, he’d definitely tell Pepper too. Maybe one day it’d occur to him to maybe worry if he was bugging John, or if John even gave a shit. But if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be willing to talk, right? So he’d probably never even think it.
Which seemed like a fair reason to never think on it. John wasn’t quite polite enough to listen to people talk when he didn’t care, so that answered that unasked question well enough. “Brill,” he said. “Later, then.” He never had been good at phone conversations.