Cameron Adamski · @MiniCannibal
7th Oct 2014 from TwitLonger
Violin Stabs
“So...are you ready?” Grace raised an eyebrow and gave a little smile, and after a beat Cam realized that he needed to point the way. Though she had yet to attain the attitude which Cam treated Nate with that he could do no wrong, she was approaching that level of respect slowly but surely. At times he still needed a little nudge or nod,but it was clear to everyone but him that he was growing, little by little.
“Right...right. C'mon.” He pointed in the direction of home, and they fell into step side by side. Things were...easy. Calm. Fun.
Perhaps the first unusual thing, which Cam failed to recognize, having never had a friend over, was the house itself. So of course it was the most natural thing in the world for Grace to stop, stare, and even covet the good fortune of the Lecters in some secret and unconscious part of her heart.
But what could be more natural than that?
They came in dribs and drabs to see her. Will was changing the dog water and provided snacks and kind smiles. Abigail acted as an assistant dog wrangler when they took the mob of dogs out to play. James peeked out the window briefly to catch a glimpse of his oldest friend's new friend, but Jacob was no where in sight. Doctor Lecter was still at work and would remain there until after she had gone home—they would meet another day. So perhaps it was deliberate that Cam left the introduction to the one person he loved most in the whole world for last. It did him no good, however, because in between snacks and tennis balls thrown for dogs and a glimpse of an older sibling, a knot formed in his stomach. He didn't need to hear Nate say out loud that he felt threatened to know that that was the case. There was no deliberate possessiveness in the older boy's affections, or any desire to invoke jealousy in Cameron's. He didn't need to witness Nathan's struggle to accept that Cam had others in his life to feel good about their romantic ties. Quite the opposite. He ached for every perceived pain that he caused his lover.
That thought brought another fear with it as well, as Cam swung the door to what was usually a very private area of his life open to Grace.
Here he and Nate fought the past the best way they knew how. Here they exchanged kisses and long, wordless glances. Cuddled together on the center of that bed, sharing an intimacy that surpassed everything they could achieve without clothes, Nathan had spoken with heartfelt sincerity about his intention to one day marry Cam.
Grace sitting on that bed seemed an affront of some kind. The thought surprised him, and it fell to dust before it could get a firm grip on his mind. He'd gotten used to not sharing things with everyone but Nate, with whom he shared everything. It was perfectly normal for her to be sitting there, regardless of how few people had actually shared this space with him before.
“Hi.” Again, she spoke first, because Nate was a statue. On the rare day that he didn't go to Cam's school to pick him up, when his tutoring sessions ran past the last bell, he was usually sprawled out on the bed waiting for Cam to join him. The hardbound copy of A Study in Scarlet was still clutched in his hands, but he had been reading it quietly at his desk.
“Hi.” He gave her a small smile. Nate was trying.../really/ trying, for Cam's sake.
Perhaps /too/ much.
“I /love/ your house.” Grace told Cam as they waited on the porch for her father to come pick her up. She threw a glance back over her shoulder at it, and gave an almost dreamy sigh. “I wish I was the youngest. All I have is Phoenix who's younger by six minutes and a new baby brother who's going to be just as bad. I want /older/ brothers.”
She sighed again, threw another wistful glance, and this time Cam looked over his shoulder as well. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “Yeah, well, I'm glad you liked it and met everyone.”
“Everyone's great, too.” A girlish blush spread over Grace's cheeks, and for the first time Cam realized how very wrong something was. “Oh my God, I think he caught me looking.” She giggled, and before Cam could ask who the hell she meant, she went on, “I just /adore/ your brother, too.”
“Brother?” Shock for now took the place of anger. Cam knew /exactly/ who she meant—she was looking back at his bedroom window.
/Their/ bedroom window.
“Nate.” Another giggle. How fucking /dare/ she use his nickname. “He's /so/ hot.”