The Island: Bart and Adam

by AJ and Dash

Rain drummed on the roof and Bart could hear the rumble of thunder in the distance. 'No lightning yet, though,' he thought to himself as he glanced out the kitchen window, hoping to see headlights of Adam's car. The street remained stubbornly empty and he returned to the stove to check on the red sauce simmering lightly on the back of the stove and the meatballs browning in the oven. A few minutes later, the car pulled into the driveway and the small knot of anxiety that he'd been hiding from himself dissolved. His lover was safely home.

"Sorry I'm late," Adam said as he came through the door. "The roads are a mess; there were fender benders all over the place. I tried to call but there was too much static. Dinner smells great."

"The meatballs will be ready in about ten minutes so we can eat in about twenty," Bart told him, pulling him into a welcoming hug. "I'm glad you're home, babe." He kissed the Cen and ran a hand down his back, ending with a light pat on his butt. "I was a little worried about the traffic and the rain."

Adam returned the hug and kiss, then sighed deeply. "I'm glad to be home, too. It was a long day."

He stood silently for a long moment, leaning against the older man, taking comfort from his quiet strength, allowing the day's tension to drain away.

When he sighed again, Bart lightly patted his bottom and kissed him again before pulling away. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah," Adam admitted. "I know what would make me feel even better, though," he added with a suggestive grin.

"Dinner is in twenty minutes and I don't want my sauce to burn."

"Like it would take that long," the younger man replied with a chuckle, and then yelped as Bart swatted him.

"Hush, brat," the Alpha said with a laugh. "Go change, and no-" He held up his hand. "Don't even ask for help. Come down and set the table when you're done."

Muttering good-naturedly about mean taskmaster Alphas, Adam started out of the kitchen, turning to look back as he reached the door. "You sure?" he asked with a wink.

"Go!" the Alpha ordered with a laugh.

"I can't work with him, Bart! He's impossible!" Adam's voice rose in frustration as he put plates on the table. "He was beyond an ass today!"

"Calm down, Adam," Bart said automatically, his mind on the spaghetti sauce he was stirring. 'Raising your voice to me doesn't help. It only-"

"Gives you a headache," Adam finished the sentence for him. "I know. I'm sorry, love. I'm just so FRUST-- rated." He hurriedly lowered his voice again on the last word. "What am I going to do, Bart?" he added plaintively as he got two glasses out of the cupboard.

"Finish slicing the bread?" Bart suggested helpfully. He pulled a tray of meatballs from the oven and clicked it off.

"Bart!" Adam whined. "You're not taking me seriously!"

"Yes, I am, love. Promise," his partner replied. "Have you tried talking to Bill about it?"

"Yes." Adam made a face. "He said it's only for this one project and could I please try to get along with him for that long. He knows he's an ass but says that he's the only one available right now and the project needs him."

"Do you think you can?" the Alpha asked in a calm, matter-of-fact voice.

"No! I TOLD you--" The phone interrupted his protest and he scowled at the offending instrument before he answered it, forcing himself to adopt his professional tone of voice. "Hello? Oh, hey, Robert. How are you? Yeah, he's here. Hang on." He passed the phone to Bart. "Don't talk all night, ok?" he whispered. "I'm starving and I really want to talk to you about this."

"Ok, love. Ten minutes, Alphas."

Adam finished slicing the bread and made a salad, then stirred the sauce again. Why did Bart's brother always call at dinnertime, he fretted. It never failed. He seemed to pick the most inconvenient times possible to call and chat. His mind returned to his problem at work, and he paid little attention to the one-sided conversation going on behind him.

"That was shorter than usual," he commented when his partner hung up the phone. "What did he- What's wrong?" he asked sharply as he caught site of his partner's pale face. "Are you ok? What's going on?" He grabbed Bart's hand and knelt down next to him. "Bart, what's wrong?" he repeated.

"Mark's dead." Bart closed his eyes and bowed his head, his fists pressing against his forehead as his lips narrowed in pain.

"Oh, God, Bart. I'm so sorry. What happened?" Mark was a childhood friend of Bart's. Together with Robert, they had formed what their families laughingly called the Musketeers of Mayhem. Mark and his wife had disapproved of Bart's relationship with Adam, so contact had been limited over the past years, the few encounters awkward and strained. Still, Adam knew, nothing could erase the memories of better times, and this news was a severe blow to Bart, who had never given up the hope that they would eventually regain their close friendship.'

"He took the curve on Miller Road too fast, swerved to miss a deer, and rolled the car," Bart said dully. "Damn it. We always *told* him to watch that curve, that one of these days-" his voice broke.

Adam stood up and drew Bart to his feet with him. "Shh," he said, wrapping his arms around his partner. "It's all right, love. Let it out," he murmured as the older man began to weep silently. "It's all right. I'm here for you. Just let it go."

"I need to call Jeannie," Bart said at last, pulling away and wiping the tears from his cheeks. "Robert said that she and the kids are at her mother's. The funeral is Thursday."

"ok," Adam replied softly "But, you should eat something first. You'll feel better if you eat."

"No." Bart shook his head. "I'm not hungry. Maybe later. You go ahead, though. I'll be in the office."

He was still on the phone when Adam entered the office, twenty minutes later. A notepad was open on the desk in front of him, with the words St. Anne's and 10:30am scribbled across the page. Adam set a mug of soup on the desk next to the notepad.

"You need to eat," he mouthed silently.

Bart picked up the mug and nodded his thanks, sipping it as he listened to the voice on the phone.

Adam sat down at his own desk and busied himself while he waited for Bart to finish the conversation.

Finally, the older man hung up. "The funeral is on Thursday. Jeannie wants me to be a pall bearer. She said Mark would have wanted me there and to serve as a pall bearer for him." He sat in silence for a moment, as if he couldn't take it in, then suddenly stood up. "I need to make arrangements. I need reservations -"

"Already done," Adam told him. "I did it online. You told me the funeral was on Thursday when we were in the kitchen, remember?"

Bart nodded. "Yeah, that's right. Robert told me." Hugging Adam, he buried his face in his lover's neck. "God, Adam, I can't believe it."

"I know, babe," he said, hugging him tightly in return. When he felt the Alpha lessen his hold, Adam allowed him to pull back, kissing him gently before continuing his explanation. "We leave at 10 tomorrow morning. I couldn't get a direct flight, though, so we have a 2-hour layover in Denver. I also reserved a hotel room and rental car. I thought it might be easier than staying with your parents, give us a bit more space."

"Adam," Bart started, hesitated, then began again. "It isn't that I don't want you with me, but--"

"I know," Adam interrupted him. "Jeannie doesn't like me, doesn't like the fact that I'm your lover and isn't going to want me around. I know all that, and I promise I'll be discreet. I won't go to the funeral and I'll stay at the hotel out of the way as much as possible. But I'm *not* going to let you go through this alone. I want to be there for you." He watched the other man until he saw a ghost of a smile and felt Bart squeeze his hand before he continued "Why don't you call Edward and see if he can take your classes. If not, you can cancel them for a few days. Then we should go to bed. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

"What about your job?" Bart asked tiredly. "Can you get away? I know you're busy with your project."

"I'll take a few days off. I have enough vacation time and they can survive a couple of days without me. James will be thrilled, I'm sure. It'll give him a chance to--"

"Hell," Bart swore as he suddenly remembered their earlier conversation. "We didn't finish talking about James and what you're going to do about him."

"Nothing," Adam told him firmly. "We're going to put it on hold and deal with it when we get back. This is more important."

Bart hesitated, then nodded his acceptance of the plan. "Thanks, babe. It'll be much easier with you there, or at least knowing you're nearby for me."

"Good. Why don't you call Ed while I'm make some hot chocolate and then we'll go upstairs. You can take a shower while I throw some clothes into a bag."

"Pack," Bart told him firmly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "We 'pack', young man. We don't 'throw some clothes into a bag.'"

Adam smiled as he led Bart out of the office and gave him a gentle push toward the stairs. "You say Tomato, I say tomahto."

"Cen," the Alpha said, winking at him just before he turned to head upstairs. Behind him, he could hear his partner's laugh just before the singing began.

"You say potato, I say potahto; you say tomato, I say tomahto; let's call the whole thing off."

Fifteen minutes later, the older man emerged from the bathroom, clad only in boxers, still slightly damp from his shower. His stomach tightened slightly at the sight of his black suit already hanging in their suit bag. The door to the walk-in closet was open and he could hear Adam talking to himself inside.

"White shirt, cream shirt," he muttered, as he pulled out a dress shirt for each of them. "Black belt, brown belt, jeans, jeans, Henley, sweatshirt, sweatshirt, turtleneck, turtleneck, Henley, blue tie, brown tie."

Bart stuck his head in the closet and reached for the clothes the Cen was holding. "Do you need help?"

Passing the items over, Adam bent down to grab two pairs of shoes before shaking his head. "Nope, I'm good," he said as he stepped out of the closet. "I’m going to go ahead and take a suit, just in case Jeannie says something about me being there. I'm serious about it being ok, though. I’m there for you. But I thought it's better to be safe than sorry. I don't want to have to worry about trying to borrow something from someone."

"That's a good idea," the Alpha replied, his voice weary as he put the garments he was holding on the bed.

Adam stepped over and hugged him from behind, resting his head against the other man's damp shoulder, arms wrapped around his waist. "I love you, Bart. And I am so sorry about Mark."

"I love you, too," Bart said, patting the arms that held him tight.

Adam gave him another squeeze before letting go. "Why don't you turn the TV on and drink your hot chocolate? I'll be done packing in just a minute."

"All right," the other man replied. He sat down in the chair and picked up the mug and remote, but didn't turn the TV on.

The Cen watched him worriedly for a moment, then turned to the dresser and began opening drawers, and rifling through their contents. He counted out enough pair of underwear for each of them and then repeated the motion with their socks. Unzipping the Alpha of their overnight bag, he stuffed the items in. They were followed by the rest of the clothes, except for the dress shirts, which were hung up with the suits. "I have three shirts and an extra pair of jeans for both of us, and something to wear Thursday and Friday and when we fly home on Saturday. I packed your black suit; I thought you should probably wear black since you're going to be a pallbearer. Is that ok?"

Bart was pulled out of his melancholy thoughts by his lover's questions. "Yeah, that sounds good. Thank you, Adam. I couldn't do this without you."

The other man smiled at the praise. "I'm almost done. I'm just going to pull out our shaving kit and pack it. We can work out of there tomorrow morning." He glanced around the room, looking for any unpacked items before putting the overnight back on the floor near the suit bag and then disappeared into the bathroom.

Closing his eyes and laying his head back, the Alpha focused on the sounds of his partner opening cabinets and drawers and then the water turning on. He focused hard, blocking out all other thoughts, and felt certain that he could tell when Adam stepped into the shower by the change in the sound of the water. In his mind, he pictured him squeezing soap into the sponge they used and then running it over his body as he washed away the sweat and dirt from the day's work. He knew what Adam looked like when he showered, when he closed his eyes, what part he washed first and what he washed last, and each step in between. It was those little things that you gradually learned about a person over the years and things that only you knew about them. What secrets about Jeannie had Mark taken with him? What little things were there about him that only Jeannie knew and, now, would ever know? Was it the little, private things that kept a person's memory alive or was it the big, open ones that everyone knew about? Tonight, was she thinking about what he washed first in the shower or was she thinking about the public Mark, the one everyone knew and loved?

"Hey, babe," Adam said softly, touching his hand. "Come to bed."

The Alpha opened his eyes. "Yeah. I'm tired." Standing up, he hugged his lover hard. "Thank you, Adam, for everything you've done. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I'm your partner, Bart." Adam said simply. "And I love you."