hadaad

[hadaad]

Adam Carter and Zafar Younis + every episode, 4.01 ↳ This won't happen again. I won't let this happen again.

[hadaad]

There's a silence that follows those six words, a quiet that seems to fill the flat far louder than even the deafening rhythm of blood that is currently pulsing through his ears. He's not sure how to answer.. for one of the first times ever, especially where Adam Carter is involved ... Zaf has found himself totally speechless. A loud what followed by a sudden drop of his jaw seems too cliche, doesn't it? Too stereotypical. He imagines jumping up in excitement, throwing his arms around the other man and pressing their lips together in a way that shames every classic ... but his muscles ache in protest, groaning against such an idea. Teeth chew on his scabbed over lip and soon that metallic taste is once again coating his tongue... but he doesn't mind. It gives himself something to focus on, something to hold onto. Grounding, they had called it, back in training. It's funny the things that stick with you.

He studies Adam, lets dark eyes trace familiar features while trying his best to school an expression upon his features that isn't quite as deer in the headlights that he's afraid it is. There's history there.. so much fucking history... and it's hitting him all at once. He thinks about training, about meeting that blonde haired, blue eyed git agent called Adam Carter who lectured him on cockiness and not getting ahead of himself. He thinks about late nights in pubs, fingers curled around cool drinks that sweated in the warmer weather while he did his best to articulate why he was trying to join Six in the first place. He thinks about friendship, about making that unbreakable vow to always stand at another's side in a role deeper than brotherhood, and he thinks about the hell that can come after. There are so many memories ... and Adam is features in every single one of them. The laugh that has always sent shockwaves through Zaf's very bones, contagious and infuriatingly annoying in those circumstances when the younger man is trying to be angry, goddammit.... the smile that he would have gladly broken his own wrists to see... the grief that moved through their lives like a howling wind after the death of Fiona...

And Blackpool.

The younger agent's cheeks flush at the mention, eyelids fluttering closed for the briefest of seconds against that overwhelming recollection of their final night. The older man's warmth pressed against him, the taste of liquor and a night of far too much drink flavoring his tongue .. and the way he had happily chased the initial kiss for more. He remembers locking himself in the bathroom after, pushing his frend away in the hope he'd be too drunk to remember the way he had betrayed him, had taken advantage of his grief for four minutes and twenty eight seconds.

For a moment Zaf hovers in uncertainty, wonders if this is some punishment ... casts about for some clue or other as to whether or not Adam is simply trying to shatter him in return. Maybe it's a delusion. Maybe he never got out of that storage cabinet. Maybe this is what its like being dead and his subconscious is trying to offer him something at least. Weight shifts as he sits up a bit straighter, fingers tentatively brushing over the older man's hand and heart thudding so loud that he's fairly certain it's about to blast its way through his ribs.

"I love you too. I have for, well .... it doesn't matter." The confession is a hurried blend of words that fall over one another in their desperate attempt to finally be heard as Zaf leans forward, hoping to seal the intention with a kiss. He pauses just short of his goal, tongue flicking out over dry lips as if gathering courage and dark eyes glowing with the faint bright light of amusement through the shadows of exhaustion.

"It's not because of the split lip, is it? It's got that whole bad boy thing right now, yeah..but it'll heal. And then where will I be? I can't get beat up every other day to remind you that you like me."

He's done his best to drive carefully in Zaf's baby, actually stopping at intersections rather than the casual roll through them he usually practices, keeping to something vaguely resembling the speed limit, and he's mildly concerned by the fact that no remark follows the ride to Zaf's flat - that in itself is a miracle. But adding to his unease is the way the younger agent visibly pales with each step on the two story climb to his door, the beating he took earlier obviously having exacted a heavier toll on his body than he was letting on, and Adam follows him into the flat with a familiarity born of years of friendship, watching as Zaf more or less falls onto the couch with a groan.

"Not a debrief. I just wanted to...talk. Away from the grid," he amends, his gaze settling upon the cuts and bruises that decorate his best friend's face, knowing how much they must be paining him. Adam moves into the kitchen for a moment, fetching a bottle of water from the refrigerator and an ice pack from the freezer, pausing at a cupboard long enough to grab the bottle of Motrin before making his way back out to where Zaf is patiently waiting for him. Adam presses the bottle of pain reliever into the other man's hand, watching as Zaf pops a few into his mouth and swallows them down with a deep pull from the water bottle, and it's with careful hands that the older man rests the ice pack against the colorful bruise that decorates his best friend's brow, studying the damage to the familiar features he's grown so fond of over the years.

His thoughts are jumbled, disjointed...up until the moment his gaze catches the younger man's dark eyes, and in that moment it all becomes perfectly clear to him what he wants to say - what he needs to say. Adam moves the laundry basket from the couch rather than settling himself upon the chair adjacent to where Zaf was sitting, and he swears he can see a flicker of surprise cross the younger man's face when he sits beside him, not so close as to crowd him but close enough that he can feel the warmth from Zaf's body radiating across the space between them to chase the chill from his own bones.

"You mentioned Blackpool." Adam's voice is low, soft, and he studies his best friend's face as he speaks, reading every miniscule reaction with the ease of one who is fluent in the language of Zaf. "I've been struggling to remember a lot of what happened there, but I have a few vague...images. Things I thought must have been a dream." He pauses for a moment, gathering his courage around him like armor in case this went very badly before forging on. "It wasn't a dream, was it Zaf?"

There is a moment of silence where he can see the other man hesitate, probably trying to gauge Adam's tone, his mood, to determine the proper way to answer the question, but before Zaf can respond the older man gives a quiet huff of amusement, blue eyes holding that dark gaze despite his own need to look away, to hide the feelings that must be written plainly upon his own face.

"Something you said earlier clicked with me, and...you're right. We've lost enough friends today. I don't want to waste any more time being afraid..." Adam swallows hard, his heart beating a staccato rhythm in his chest as he runs one hand through already tousled hair, glancing away for a scant moment before meeting the intensity of Zaf's gaze once more. "I can't lose you. You are...I want..." A frustrated sound escapes his throat as he struggles to find the words, finally settling on the ones that would either earn him the very thing he wanted more than anything on earth...or cost him his best friend.

"I've fallen in love with you."

[hadaad]

Zafar Younis + every episode, 5.02 ↳ he'll be fine. I've seen him fight before - he's very dirty.

[hadaad]

pitting mi5 officers against rogue mi6 agents for an entire two episodes was the best thing spooks ever did. especially considering that so many of the mi5'ers were from six originally.

[hadaad]

happy birthday to zaf !

[hadaad]

BOLD what applies to your muse, ITALIZE if there's potential / it depends. Repost, don't reblog.

holding hands (in public) · buying flowers · cooking · cuddles · writing a poem / song · holding door open · tying shoe laces · sharing a milkshake with two straws · offering their jacket when it's cold · kissing in the rain · publicly confessing love · long walks at the beach · doing the titanic pose on a boat · taking cute pictures in a photobooth · sharing a taxi / uber · kissing the back of their hand · slow dancing · getting tickets of their favourite artist / sports team / other · introducing them to their parents · lighting candles · flower petals on bed · love letters · star gazing · brushing / doing their hair · picnics · teaching them to play an instrument / sport while gently guiding their hands · compliments · late night drives · taking selfies together · drawing them · self-made gifts · massages · proposing with a family heirloom ring · lending them their favourite book to read · paying for dinner / coffee · mixtapes / playlists · surprise birthday parties · feeding them · handing them keys to their apartment · making space in drawer for their clothes when they stay over · sharing a blanket · couple costumes · tucking a hair strand behind their ear · running after them at the airport / keeping them from leaving · moving cities to be together · blowing a kiss · breakfast in bed · defending them in a fight (verbally / physically) · joint bubble baths · dropping the L-bomb ("I love you") · dedicating a song at the karaoke bar to them · wearing their clothes · yawning before putting an arm around them while watching a movie · grant them the last bite (from meal)

tagged by: @dodgedabullet (only after i begged. typical. lmao hunter i love you) tagging: @vekovoysoldat , @orchideae , @heartcarried , @thiefscant, @homebehind (roslin and/or zoya!), @forjanus + you!! tag me, please.

[hadaad]

He's standing with the cocksure air of a man in his element - all smiles and arched brows with fingers that rest inside denim pockets, lazy and quiet as if the agent has all the time in the world. Her attempt at redirection makes Zaf grin all the harder and he shrugs his shoulders, words soaked with an amusement that it would take a better man than him to disguise. "Don't think one was on my schedule, but ... I've always been good with last minute changes." Brown eyes flicker across their surroundings, hand digging out his wallet with practiced movements and the agent cocks his head slightly. "This should be enough for a dance, yeah?" The money is pressed into her hand, followed quickly by another wad of bills. "So that means this should be enough to hear about that real name of yours."

@hadaad ♡’d for a starter (still accepting) !

"unless you're here to pay for a dance, i don't think i'm the girl you're looking for. mary isn't even my real name, you know that right?"

[hadaad]

"Can we get out?" Her question is repeated, a casual toss of words flavored with a healthy dose of incredulity (are you kidding me, Phee?) as brown eyes settle on his fellow agent's expression. She's nervous, he can all but feel that... body an all but tightly coiled spring, and Zaf does his best to offer a distraction. He arches one brow, lips twisting into a grimace of feigned hurt, and presses one palm to the flat of his chest for greater effect. "Haven't you learned by now...?" There's only one door in the room, a single barrier between them and probable imminent death (he'll leave that part out until the debrief), and he lets out a huff of quiet laughter as fingers curl around the cool brass. "I can get out of anything. It's why they hired me. Well, that and my good looks. I was asked to keep that last part secret though. Adam's ego is too fragile. He couldn't take it...had to actually rely on skill and all that. Poor bastard."

It's a steady stream of practically nothing - just a bunch of words thrown together in the hope that it helps Phee's heart from rapidly beating its way right out of her chest. "You're doing good, yeah? I nearly cried on my third mission for six... hold it together until we're out of this and I'll tell you the story. I promise."

“Fuck.” Phee muttered, glancing around the corner before leaning back up against the wall, trying to control her breathing. What was supposed to be a relatively easy mission clearly was turning into something the opposite. She felt even more out of her depth as she looked towards Zaf for some sort of reassurance, not hearing any sort of movement, but she also knew that didn’t mean anything in this line of work. Their enemy could be sneakier than imagined. “Can we get out?” She asked, her voice barely a whisper as she stood closer to him.

@zafaryounis said "Sh, don't say anything. He's still in ear shot." (zaf) | spooks

[hadaad]

Adam Carter & Zafar Younis + scenes that i love, 5.06 ↳ Adam! What the hell is wrong with you?

[hadaad]

@dodgedabullet said: "Zaf... talk to me. Please?"

There are some things in this career that are impossible to get used to, things glossed over during routine training as if they're something that any agent worth their salt will just accept.. as if the inevitability of death is something one is meant to simply acclimate themselves to. Good verses bad, your team and the opposition.. it's funny, he thinks... how easily timid men and women learn to pull a trigger. He watches the monitor in front of him with a gaze that is near unwavering, follows the officers as they raise their guns, studies the way their target starts to turn and raise his arms...Every loop ends the same: a burst of fire, a prone figure on the floor, and the press of a key by a single thumb as the agent rewinds it. An endless montage of a death that he is almost certain could have been avoided, and yet...

Adam's words break into the cycle he's found himself stuck in, cause dark eyes to blink as if Zaf is suddenly aware of how dry they've become, and weight shifts as the younger man adjusts his position. How long has he been here? The muscles currently screaming a hearty protest in his back along with the relatively empty Grid offer a hint, and lips turn downwards in a defeated frown. "He could've been surrendering, we don't know..." The macabre scene plays on but this time he doesn't watch the ending, this time he rubs cramping fingers across his face as if he's capable of erasing the events of the past forty eight hours. "I should have tried harder, argued more..." He knows Adam is watching him, can feel the pity on his face without even glancing at it, and the heart in his chest thumps against its cage with the hope that when he speaks it will be his best friend and not some disapproving section chief. "You didn't see him .. the last time we talked, he was scared, frightened for his family ... but Harry doesn't care about any of that, does he? And we're not meant to either."

Protect the country and its people .. but only those deemed worthy by the government's discretion...

Zaf feels as if the entire world has settled about his shoulders, cursed with feeling too much in a career where most act as if they can't feel anything at all... and his verdict, when it comes, is a terse and direct thing, daring the older man to argue. "He shouldn't have died. There had to be .. I don't care what Harry says. Or anyone else for that matter. There was another way, we just needed results too quickly to see it."

[hadaad]

zaf will be your biggest lgbtq+ ally. you wanna kiss a fellow female colleague/friend? go for it. got a crush on your bro? plant one on him!! make it homosexual!! paint the british security service in pride flags!! go go go go.

[hadaad]

 WHAT THEY SMELL LIKE :   He is very chill when it comes to scents etc most days. He will always smell like a hint of soap and shampoo (tangerine!!) and a faint whiff of cologne if you're standing close enough. If anyone ever borrows a jacket or sweater, they will definitely be able to smell said cologne. Usually Sauvage by Dior but occasionally Eternity by Ralph Lauren as well. Dior tends to be his go to smell when it comes to nights out, dates, etc. Overall, Zaf is very into just overall cleanliness and he believes smell is a part of that. Despite this, however, if its mid afternoon and The Grid has been slow ... there will definitely be a lingering air of some take away food or other hovering around him.

HOW THEY SLEEP ( position, schedule, etc. ): If anyone in his line of work ever said they sleep easily, they would be lying. Zaf has learned to sleep when and where he can. His mind never stops running, it replays events of the day over and over again and while he is sure that reliving your mistakes one hundred times in your head works for some (hello, adam.).. it doesn't for him. So his approach to the end of the day is simple : he puts something stupid and inconsequential on and lets himself zone out. He is a fan of animes and old timey kung fu style movies and loves falling asleep to them. Unless he is too exhausted to manage it, he alway strips down before getting into bed though passing out fully clothed after only making it as far as the couch has been known to happen. One must is that the closet door has to be closed, telly is on (if its not, he cant sleep) and the lamp on the opposite side's nightstand is dimly lit. And his pillow has to be cold. If his pillow isn't cold, he isn't sleeping. He sleeps on his back, sort of like he's dead. Once he was babysitting Wes for Adam and Wes found him sleeping like that and it was a huge traumatic thing and no one has yet to recover.

WHAT MUSIC THEY ENJOY :  He likes things like Tool, All Time Low, Black Sabbath.. very eclectic. He's been known to play a few disney songs when he's in control of the radio just to drive Adam bonkers and fully sticks to the belief that if you can convince him to let loose and get started...their section chief does a fantastic rendition of Celine Dion's My heart Will Go On. Zaf is very open to any and all music. He sees it as a story or memory set down by the writer/composer ... but play country in his car and he will kick you out while its still moving.

HOW MUCH THEY SPEND EVERY MORNING GETTING READY :  getting ready? not too long. Showers are quick, clothes are thrown on... but if he has time, he will linger over breakfast. It takes him twenty minutes to eat a piece of toast because he wants to enjoy it and he believes breakfast is the start of every day and pretty much sets the tone.

FAVORITE THING TO COLLECT : the fancy dice for tabletop games.

LEFT OR RIGHT HANDED :  right. 

FAVOURITE SPORT(S) : football

FAVOURITE TOURISTY THING TO DO WHEN TRAVELLING :  local parties, gossip with people at the bars and/or restaurants, explore the stores etc, ghost tours !!

FAVOURITE KIND OF WEATHER : Blue sky and sunshine but with a slight breeze. Generally still cool.

WEIRD / OBSCURE FEAR THEY HAVE :  Ants. he thinks its freaky how they can lift things so much heavier than themselves while working together. sometimes he dreams he falls asleep somewhere and they carry him off. it's terrifying.

THE CARNIVAL / ARCADE GAME THEY ALWAYS WIN WITHOUT FAIL :   the gun vs the targets one.

[hadaad]

@dodgedabullet: “it’s okay for friendships to end. people leave. but not ours though, you know too much.” 

He's stretched out over the bonnet of his car, back against the glass and nothing but half closed eyelids and tired muscles ... and as Adam's words fall between them into the darkness, he feels his body respond as if by instinct. Weight shifts until he's leaning more in the older boy's direction, brown eyes studying a profile so familiar and beautiful that the stars overhead (what they're meant to be looking at) can go and fuck themselves for all Zaf cares. There's a weight somewhere in his middle and that fist that always seems to grip his heart whenever his best friend is near suddenly tightens so hard that he's all but certain it's going to kill him. The air comes back to his lungs with the same force as a sharp punch, and the younger boy wonders if his change in breathing was noticed. He hopes not. He'll forever resent anything that ruins this moment.

"We could always sign a non-disclosure agreement. Don't know if even I would remember everything we were meant to be keeping secret, though." The words are chased by a huff of laughter, thoughts studiously choosing to ignore the way one thumb nervously rubs over the damp label of a barely touched beer. Why does he need to drink when he's fully capable of getting drunk on Adam's presence alone? It's cold where they are... the night all but reaches out with chilled fingers, dipping underneath shirts and hoodies to brush against sensitive skin and leave prickles in its wake, and Zaf shivers in response. He's running out of time - soon, Adam will have to go back. They both will - and with a determined effort he unsticks his tongue from where it has glued itself to the roof of his mouth and half sits up, brows furrowed in a frown of concentration.

"Are you going to tell me what happened with her? Or am I meant to just try and cheer you up and hope I'm not doing it wrong?" It's a bit more aggressive than he means for it to be, so he tries again with a simple shake of his head. "I mean, we went our separate ways is way different than she cheated on me and made a public announcement about it, you know? One, we just need cash and a good pub. The other requires four different alibis and really good fake passports. Fess up, Oxford. I'm getting cold."

[hadaad]

zaf constantly sips on his respect everyone juice. he understands most motivations and the decisions/circumstances that lead people to certain places and even views those who kill just to kill as tragic wastes of a life. this means that those close to him (and those close to them) have his unwavering loyalty. he will argue points, he will tell someone that they are absolutely stupid for whatever plan they have .. but he will also give 150% in helping to see it come to fruition, even if that means coming up with alternative means.

[hadaad]

waiting on hunter to take me to the doctor and thinking about them

[hadaad]

It's a welcome interruption to an otherwise routine day and Zaf can't help the way the corners of his mouth twitch the slightest bit upwards. "I trust you, yeah." Dark eyes scan the room as he stretches, weight shifting until the crack of bones grown stale from sitting falls between them. "Did anyways. Until about ten seconds ago when you leaned in like a conspirator and asked." He's teasing her now, friendly agent and officer banter, and the quirk in his lips turns to a genuine smile. "What am I trusting you with? Gossip? Plans for my next prank? Done. The keys to my car?" There's a pause, a short whistle of air as it's sucked between teeth, and he gives a slight shake of his head. "Nah. Sorry."

for @hadaad xo

"you trust me, don't you?" question lingered in the air, as the detective's body leaned across the cheap pine table between them. any answer other than yes would likely upset erin. she took pride in being a trustworthy person, especially when it came to their interlinked careers. what was the point in working with someone you didn't trust to have your back?

[hadaad]

I don't want any distractions tonight.... The sentiment is a foreign thing as it hangs in the air between them, weighted down with remnants of blood and ash, and Zaf wonders if his surprise is as obvious as he believes it to be. His entire face throbs with every beat of his heart and there's an ache settling into muscle and bone that's unlike anything he's felt before and all he can think is how welcome an endless rant about Minecraft or something would be. Wes is familiar, Wes is easy...Wes is horrible knock-knock jokes and Wii bowling tournaments, a ball of energy that is far removed from corpses hanging from trees and the harsh reality of those meant to protect the country doing their best to destroy it. Uncle Zaf is a far better alternative to the man he is right now, but he smiles softly at his best friend and section chief (another short, wincing thing) and nods as if he understands what in the hell Adam is after.

"No distractions." What am I then? The question lingers on the tip of his tongue before its swallowed down, chased away with a huff of breath akin to a groan as he makes his way to his own desk and the jacket that is carelessly lying atop it. "Here." Fingers dig into its pockets and Zaf notices with a vague disinterest the lines of crimson that have embedded themselves in the grooves of his knuckles... he'll have to scrub them harder or something. His keys are tossed to the other man and he answers the questioning look with a shrug of bruised and aching shoulders. "I've lost enough friends today. Can't risk losing her too." It's enough to break the ice, enough to almost make it feel as if its just another end of day teasing, as if they're two friends leaving a normal nine to five and not two men struggling to stay afloat in a sea awash with corpses. It's funny, he thinks... the way they never talk about the things that haunt them, the way he sometimes wonders if his colleagues see the same faces and the same trails of smoke that haunt his dreams.

***

The trip to his flat is as nondescript as any ride with Adam Carter at the wheel can be and had it been any other day the younger agent might have celebrated its end with a dramatic kiss to the pavement but today he's too sore and far too tired. Victory has turned out to be much heavier than he once would have imagined. He feels every bit of the two flights of stairs that lead to his door and it's with a sigh of exhaustion that fingers fumble with the lock, weight all but falling forward into the entryway when it finally opens. There's a basket of clothes sitting on the couch, dirty and jumbled together as if waiting to be taken care of and Zaf can all but swear he sees a twitch in the corner of the other agent's mouth when he notices it.

"When you say no distractions..." The joy of a best friend is that he's not obligated to play host (the older man knows where everything is better than he does sometimes) so rather than offer a drink or something, he simply collapses onto the waiting furniture with a groan that is half relief and half pain before finishing his thought. " ... This isn't a debrief or something, is it? I don't think I have anything strong enough for that. I don't think Blackpool was strong enough for that." Brown eyes seek out Adam's blue ones and Zaf shifts his weight, giving the whole sitting up straight thing his best attempt given the circumstances and freeing up a space where the other man can sit if he so wishes.

"You okay?"

The concern that etches his features doesn't lessen as he watches Zaf press careful fingertips against the stitches that intersect his brow, the bruising already vivid and promising to get worse before it gets better, and Adam allows himself to wonder if the younger man had taken anything for the pain before the medic had sutured the cut. Probably not, knowing Zaf. He almost smiles at that, only barely managing to suppress it...but it's for naught as the other man's sarcastic words register through his distraction and a genuine grin flashes in response.

Whatever he'd been about to say died before it reached his lips, however, at the feel of Zaf's fingers tugging gently at his collar, the brush of cool skin against the flushed warmth of his own throat making him swallow convulsively, and Adam resists the urge to lean into the contact like some touch-starved kitten begging for attention from a loving hand. He can't tell if it lasts for mere moments or an hour - time has stood still for him, frozen in that instant, their gazes each holding the other's while Zaf is touching him in a way that is both entirely innocent and all too intimate for Adam's state of mind. He can feel his heart beating double-time in his chest, can feel the way his lungs constrict as if desperate for more oxygen than they're getting, and he knows from the heat that crawls up his neck and onto his face that he's blushing - actually blushing - at Zaf's casual straightening of his collar.

Pathetic, really.

The spell is broken when the younger man drops his hand at last, and Adam clears his throat, fidgeting briefly with one of his cufflinks while he tries to form words with a tongue gone leaden in his mouth. Finally he gives an eloquent shrug, glancing away from those dark, ageless eyes before he feels them drawing him in once more. "Can we go to your place? Mine is...Wes." His voice is rough-sounding even to his own ears, and he shares a look with Zaf that speaks volumes. "I don't want any distractions tonight."