#not ready to press start esp after seeing THAT spoiler

[badnew2005]

i am. criminally late but. the Event Of The Year. dennis takes a mental health day. liveblogging in the replies u know it. what the fuck. i am not prepared.

[abovethesmokestacks]

Make Me Feel Like I’m Real (5/7)

Title: Make Me Feel Like I’m Real Pairing: T.J Hammond x OMC Rating: General Audiences Warnings: swearing, increased hate for tabloids? Otherwise none Spoilers: spoilers for Political Animals (esp. the last couple of episodes)

I am so sorry I flaked out for MONTHS. I got caught with the nastiest flu ever in mid-November and didn’t shake it until week after New Years. In between better and worse periods of being sick, I had a very untimely case of writer’s block, so all in all a shitstorm as far as writing was concerned. Finally managed to finish this baby tonight, and I hope you all enjoy it! Let me know if you want in on the taglist.

TAG LIST: @loup-malin, @ursulaismymiddlename, @sarahsassafras13, @bakexprayxlove, @booksandshowsandmovies-ohmy, @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki,@lilasiannerd, @the-hidden-seeker, @bovaria, @ceebeetumbles, @the-scars-and-the-stripes, @smile-youlookbetterhappy, @captain-amelia-bradley, @mrshopkirk, @amrita31199, @winter-in-wakanda, @avengerofyourheart, @creideamhgradochas, @themcuhasruinedme, @feepsmoothie, @nuvoleincielo, @wellfuckbuck, @callamint, @tatortot2701, @mellifluous-melodramas

<< Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 >>

June 2014

”Please jailbreak me.”

”That bad?”

”I feel like I have ants crawling under my skin.”

”Do I say ‘you’ll be okay’? Or will that make it worse?”

”I hate myself.”

”I love you.”

”I don’t deserve it.”

”I still love you.”

”Please bake me a cake with a rasp inside it.”

”I’ll send you cupcakes and a $1 nail file.”

”How you holding up?”

”Okay, I guess.”

”Really?”

”No. I’m terrible. I remember exactly why I tried to halfass my way through it before.”

”But you won’t now?”

”I won’t. I promise.”

”I’m sorry.”

”What? What happened?”

”No! No, it’s-it’s a step. I should be doing this face to face, and I will, I just… I’m so sorry.”

”Oh.”

”A conversation for next week. Just… I don’t know. I wanted to get a head start.”

He returns home at the end of March.

Rehab was different this time. Same place, a couple of people he recognized from his previous stint, but this time T.J actually tried. Dutifully went to appointments, talked, reflected, fought, accepted. The first week was hell, as expected. One year apparently did very little to tame his cravings. He was commended for making it so far essentially without help, for returning to rehab, and when he stepped outside the doors to finally leave, he felt ready. He could do this. One day at a time.

And then he realizes he promised Aiden he’d call once he was home, and one day at a time becomes one second at a time. They’ve only spoken on the phone a handful of times, exchanged a couple of pictures. Trouble is huge now. The sensation of ants under his skin returns full force when T.J picks up his phone, and he can’t even bring himself to call. He scolds himself for being such a fucking chicken and sending a text.

>>Can I come over?

>>ofc

>>I missed you

>>me 2

Everything seems so amplified. He’s about to see his boyfriend for the first time after three months, for the first time since that night. The rehab welcomed him immediately, and T.J packed his bags, sending Aiden and his parents a short text from the cab. His mother called a couple of times during his stay, asking if he wanted them to visit. He declined her every time. It was better that way. He couldn’t fathom having to deal with himself at times, even less his family. Plus, things were getting serious on the campaign trail. Caucuses and rallies had kept Elaine busy. T.J didn’t want to interfere. Either way, it wasn’t his first rodeo.

His bags feel lighter as he dumps their content on the bed, sorting through the mess. Dirty clothes, toiletries, a notebook he got to keep track of all the things he wants to do, needs to do. It’s gotten to be a pretty extensive list. Smiling, T.J sets it on the bedside table. He’ll have to look through it later, see where he can start. It’s mostly amends, but he figures he can’t ignore them, not if he really wants this to stick.

When Aiden knocks on his door ten minutes later, T.J’s heart kicks into high gear. It’s… He realizes he’s scared. They are together, or so he fervently hopes. What if Aiden wants to take a break, the kind that always remains a break and never has a happy ending? T.J pulls at the sleeves of his henley, trudging out to answer the door. Aiden’s outside, smiling expectantly. It’s not the full-on grin that’s like the sun on a cold winter day, but it’s something. T.J’s heart is still beating hard, but it’s as if the other man’s presence calms it, however little.

”Hi.”

Yeah, it’s awkward, and if he didn’t know better, T.J would say he’s been transported back to high school. For what feels like hours there’s only tentative smiles and hands shoved into pockets before Aiden takes the first step. He brings T.J in for the tightest hug he’s had in three months  ̶  three fucking months  ̶  and it’s the best thing he’s ever experienced, he’s sure of it. It’s more than the sensation of being held tight; it’s the scent of Aiden that he would happily drown in, and just being home. Aiden presses a gentle kiss to his lips, and T.J can swear he’s flying. He’s home.

It’s not easy to be back, and it takes a couple of weeks for them to get back into the life they were right in the middle of before New Years. There’s the issue of T.J having to adapt to life post-rehab, taking the responsibility he never really bothered with the last time. There’s also, well, life. T.J has things he needs to do. He needs to leave the club, or at the very least renegotiate his position in the hierarchy. Aiden keeps busy, rehearsing with the orchestra for a month-long concert tour that, yes, has T.J worried. There’s also the issue of the election.

Preparations for the final stretch of the nomination process have been going on for a while, gathering support from delegates and maintaining their donor base. Sooner or later they will knock on his door, and he will be asked to do his part. He’s not sure if it will be easier or harder this time. It’s not him the spotlight will be on primarily, but with his history, he will be dragged into it plenty. The addict son of the Secretary of State, now second-time-Presidential candidate, and the former President, at least one suicide attempt, hospital visits that were swept under the rug, plenty of scandals to choose from. Yeah, what opposing candidate and newspaper would turn that down? It’s easier because he’s trying to stay clean, level-headed, and not fall apart at the slightest hint that he’s in trouble. And, he has Aiden by his side. It’s harder because he will have to deny himself the escape when the spotlight eventually stays too long on him and tries to burn him. And… he has Aiden by his side. The tabloid article that ran back in October was nothing compared to what might be published now. He’s not ashamed of Aiden, absolutely not. He just wishes he could shield him from the cruelty of the press.

Some of it is easy. T.J gets out of his club deal, no hard feelings (just an obscene amount of paperwork), and he continues his efforts to fulfill the program outside rehab. Making amends with Gunner has his stomach in knots, and he feels like he’s doing it wrong when the other man nods and pulls him in for a hug. He fucked up another man’s sobriety, and this is it? It feels too easy, and T.J wants to do more, but can’t come up with any gesture that would atone for his wrongdoing.

Most of it is… not exactly hard, but unfamiliar. He thought he’d be more confident in his abilities, in his resolve to stay clean post-rehab, but all he can see nowadays are potential pitfalls. Each passing day bring him closer to Aiden leaving to go on tour, and it’s hard to feel confident when he knows what happened last time he was alone. He also realizes he has to let Aiden go, that he can’t let it stand in his way. He went to rehab so he could get past not only the addiction, but the co-dependency, too. It will be okay. T.J repeats it like a mantra, rehashing the coping mechanisms he’s learned should he be tempted, making sure he has places to be while Aiden’s gone.

When the day comes, he’s restless. By 8 am, he’s already on his third cup of coffee, and keeps rechecking Aiden’s bags to make sure he has everything he needs. It sucks. Things are finally starting to settle between them, they’re doing good, and now they gotta make it on their own for a month. Aiden lets him fuss, until the cab honks angrily outside his apartment, after which it becomes a race to see how many affirmations and kisses and silly little declarations they can cram in before they have to open the door and wave at the cabbie to wait.

”I’ll miss you,” T.J mumbles, straightening the lapels of Aiden’s blazer, fingers tripping over each other from too much caffeine.

”You’ll do fine. You can text me anytime, about anything, and I’ll call you as often as I can, okay?”

”I’ll still miss you.”

”Trouble will take care of you,” Aiden coaxes, nodding to the now very large cat sitting at their feet.

They’ve decided to let Trouble stay with T.J until Aiden gets back home. It’s easier for everyone. T.J gets to stay in his safe space, he’ll have something to focus on daily and Trouble gets taken care of. It’s a win-win for everyone.

”I’ll blame him for everything then.”

Aiden rolls his eyes at him, leaning in for a final goodbye kiss before taking his bag and the cello in its case, and walking out to the cab. T.J feels like some strange 50’s housewife, waving off his man as he rides off into the distance. Only thing missing is a fucking handkerchief. Behind him, Trouble meows loudly, looking very perturbed and apparently knowing that his owner has gone off and won’t be coming back for some time. T.J snickers, picks up his phone and snaps a picture of the groused cat.

>> he looks like he will murder me X attachment img_1293.jpeg

>> Damnit, told him to wait until Friday! X

>> play good ok? X

>> I will. I love you. X

>> i love you X

>> I love you. X

>> i love you X

>> Turning off the street now. I believe in you.

He keeps staring at those four words throughout the day, smiles as he reads through the rest of the conversation. So blessedly ordinary, so perfectly okay. T.J knows the feeling won’t last forever, and revels in it for as long as it lasts. Aiden calls when they get to their first stop, only dropping his phone twice as he tries to unpack and talk at the same time. It’s easy, effortless. He can do this. He can. He can.

For the most part, he does okay. The schedule he’s set up for himself helps. Meetings, dinners, Trouble. He plays a lot, working his way through the treasure trove of sheet music Nana gave him for Christmas two years ago. The first week of Aiden’s three week tour goes by without a hitch. He’s energetic, he has a plan, it works. It goes so well T.J starts worrying, and so is not surprised when the following week he suddenly wakes up one day with a weight on his chest that is another kind of trouble. It’s that dangerous cocktail of loneliness, doubt and a day with no plans. His skin feels electrified, fingers twitching for something to do, the apartment feels too small. The real Trouble meows, demanding his attention, but T.J can’t focus. He makes sure the furball has food and heads out.

It’s dangerous, and he knows it. Last time this happened… He lets out a shuddering breath, digging his hands deeper into the pockets of his jeans. It will be okay. It’s not even noon, he would be foolish to try, he’s been doing good, he just- he has to come up with something to do. T.J keeps a running commentary on himself as he stalks downtown, heart aching because he wishes Aiden was here. His first truly bad day since coming out of rehab, and of course Aiden has to be away. He knows he’s supposed to be okay, that his sobriety isn’t and shouldn’t be tied to his boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean this feeling of anxious worry in his chest will go away as easily as it would if Aiden was by his side now.

>>not doing so good 2day. trying 2 find smth 2 do. miss u.

It takes Aiden all of two minutes to respond.

>>Tour is overrated. Can’t wait 2 come home. U will make it through 2day, I know it. Call me if u need to, travel day 2day. xo

This man, he’s too good for him. His body this aches and wants and writhes, but T.J fights. He ends up going to lunch, finding a reason to kill an hour. It becomes two hours, a staffer who used to work for Elaine on Dougie’s team recognizes him, comes over to talk. It’s good, normal. Smalltalk and business talk and empty phrases. ”I don’t know anything about that, and even if I did, you know I couldn’t say anything about it.” ”Tell Doug I said hello.” ”Sure, I will!” T.J can’t even remember the guy’s name.

He visits Nana, determined not to let anything tempt him today. She’s surprised at first, but seems to realize he needs refuge from the world. They play showtunes and watch horrible soap operas for hours before T.J feels safe and centered enough to return home. Trouble needs him. It’s a strengthening thought. He’s needed. The cat climbs him like its own personal tree the second he’s inside the door, and he holds the purring fuzzball close, doesn’t mind when Trouble curls up next to him on the bed. He can’t wait for this loneliness to come to an end.

He should have known even thinking about the possibility of being happy once Aiden gets home was tempting fate. The days have felt impossibly long, and he has gone stir crazy trying to work through the combined stress of loneliness and worry about his resolve. T.J can practically see the finish line. One more day, one more night. He can do it.

With one day left, he’s pulled back into the harsh reality. T.J’s phone explodes around 9 am, sending Trouble into a tizzy that ends with claw marks etched into his arm before the spooked animal sets off like a rocket to hide under the couch. Hissing at the quickly reddening marks, he fumbles for his phone and blindly sliding the blinking icon to answer.

”Yeah?”

”Aw. You sound like you’ve had a lot of sad, lonely nights.”

”Aiden?” T.J sits up, clenching his fist so as not to itch the scratches. Aiden snickers at the other end of the line.

”Were you asleep?”

”Are you surprised? It’s Saturday!”

”I thought you’d be lying dramatically on the couch, crying your heart out,” Aiden rebuts, and though the tone is teasing, the comment confuses him.

”Are we- Should I know what you’re talking about?”

”Oh. Oh, okay. You haven’t seen it. We’ve apparently broken up according to at least two tabloids.”

T.J’s blood freezes in his veins. He tells Aiden to hold on, bringing up the browser on his phone, taking a steadying breath and then does what he’s long learned he shouldn’t do. He googles himself. In less than a second, his screen is filled with headlines screaming at him.

HEARTBREAK FOR HAMMOND?

ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST? - FORMER FIRST SON SPOTTED ALONE

TWEAKING T.J? NO THANKS!

LOVE 'EM AND LEAVE 'EM?

THE SINS OF THE FATHER… A YOUNG BUD HAMMOND IN THE MAKING?

His eyes skitter from one headline to the other, feeling his heart rate increase and his mind instantly kick up a whirl of ”What did I do?” It’s only when Aiden calls his name loud enough for him to drag him out of the judgmental tailspin that he takes a moment to calm down. Nothing has happened, it’s just gossip. They’re still together. Aiden is just away, doing a concert tour. No heartbreak.

Right?

”Aiden…” he begins, rubbing his forehead. ”I’m so sorry, I-”

”T.J, don’t. This isn’t your fault. I don’t blame you. You told me this could happen, and I accepted it. I know we’re not over, I hope you know that, too.”

”Of course! I miss you like crazy, and I’ve- I have had a few hard days. I’m still good.”

”I’ll be home soon, T, I promise. Are you eating okay? You looked a little pale in the pictures?”

Of course there were pictures. T.J groans.

”I’m not subsisting entirely on takeout, if that’s what you’re asking,” he replies, making a mental note to take out the boxes that have accumulated in his kitchen. ”I’ve had dinner with Nana a couple of times. Wholesome, filling meals. You would be very proud.”

His phone beeps, indicating another call, and he misses most of Aiden’s no doubt sarcastic comment checking his screen. Elaine. Fuck. He bites his lip.

”Mom’s calling,” he says, putting the phone back against his ear. ”I gotta take it.”

”Of course. Text me if you need anything, okay?”

”I’m sorry. Again. And again.”

”And I love you. Again. And again.”

They say goodbye, and T.J has to call Elaine back. She’s somewhere in Wisconsin, incidentally also heading home to prepare for a rally set for next week. Apparently she has put him on Google alert, and T.J’s not sure if he’s supposed to be grateful or miffed. As is, his mother is more worried than angry, asking if everything is okay, if he needs anything.

”I’m fine, mama, I promise. It’s all lies,” he assures her, crouching to hold out his hand when Trouble crawls out from under the couch to check if things have calmed down.

”You sure, sweetheart? I’ve got staff working on finding out the source for the articles. The timing is a little too convenient. They’ve left you alone for so long now, and suddenly running a purely libelous excuse for an article this close to-”

”I promise. I’m okay. Nothing I haven’t seen before. Aiden will be home tomorrow, he’s… he’s actually kinda amazing about this whole thing.”

On the other end, Elaine lets out a breath, and he can almost see her trademark smile. T.J can’t help but smile in kind, not caring that she can’t see it. Trouble comes trotting towards him, sniffing his hand to check if there’s a treat waiting.

”I’m glad. I’ll be home in a few days. We’ll talk more then, okay?”

After promising he’ll come by with Aiden once they’re all in the same city, they say goodbye, and T.J quickly works through his notifications. Doug has sent a bunch of texts, and the righteous anger almost jumps off the screen. Nana and Bud have both left voicemails, a bunch of emails have dropped in. Nothing to worry about in the grand scheme of things. And yet…

He can’t help himself. Against better judgment, T.J scrolls through a couple of the online articles, knowing they’re worse than the printed versions. Whoever invented the comment section should get a swift kick to the shins with a steel toe boot. It’s all variations on the same spiel, T.J Hammond spotted alone, looking tired and haggard, where is the still unknown boyfriend he’s been sighted with, are drugs behind the supposed breakup, and… There’s a picture of him talking to the staffer – what the hell is his name again? – that makes his stomach lurch. He still looks tired, but the pap has managed to catch him in a moment where he’s smiling, however tentative. Even though this is –  should be –  same old-same old to him, the insinuation that he’s cheating or moving on because of a relapse makes him nauseous.

By some miracle, T.J manages to tear himself away before he makes the terrible mistake of delving into the comment section, fearing it might set him off and make him do something stupid. He clenches his teeth, shutting of his laptop and pushing it away from himself. It’s.. not okay, but he’s okay. He can do this, it’s nothing he hasn’t encountered before. Only it is, his mind quietly tells him, and T.J can’t really protest. There’s never been anyone like Aiden in his life when this has happened. It’s been months, they’re good, even with his recent stint in rehab. All things considered, they’re good, he’s clean, why does this have to happen?

It’s a blessing to wake up to knocks on his front door the next day, to Trouble galloping to serve as welcoming committee, to Aiden’s smile as he sets down his bags and bring T.J in for a hug and a peppering of kisses, to calm in his soul. Couldn’t the paps capture this instead? Is this not as desirable?

”Next time, I’m bringing you with me,” Aiden speaks against the crook of T.J’s neck, holding him tighter. ”I don’t care how, you’re going in my suitcase. You’re getting contortionist classes for Christmas.”

”I missed you, too,” T.J replied quietly, drawing in the scent of his boyfriend.

He still smells a bit like bus and airplane, but there’s that ever-present smell of sandalwood hidden underneath, the soft cotton of his shirt evening it out. Aiden smells like safety, his tall and slender frame so easy to wrap oneself around, always warm no matter the season. Maybe it’s regressing a little bit, but right there, wrapped up in Aiden’s arms, T.J can’t help but feel relieved. He’s back, he can breathe a little easier. It is a nice little moment, tender and stretching out until seconds feel like minutes.

Until Trouble decides he’s done being ignored and uses them as his personal scratch tree.

They have a nice two days before Elaine calls to inform T.J that she’ll be home the next day and wants to have dinner with them both. He can almost hear how smug she looks when he turns to Aiden to ask if the time is okay, and he’s not entirely sure why it makes him blush a little. So Aiden hasn’t gone home since he got back. So maybe they’re enjoying the domestic bliss. So maybe it makes him feel better and not think about the articles so much. So maybe he likes it.

Aiden hasn’t been over for dinner with his family since Christmas, and T.J feels like he’s introducing him for the first time all over again. The way he hugs his mother is perhaps a tad perfunctory, but his stomach does a wild little somersault when he sees the way she smiles brightly at his boyfriend, hugging him as tight as she would her own two sons. Nana, true to her nature, is as brash as ever, holding her arms open for T.J and beckoning him over with a ”Come here, you little shit.” He’s almost surprised she doesn’t slap Aiden’s ass when they head to the dining room, where Dougie and Anne are waiting for them.

They chat amicably, polite questions about Aiden’s trip, about his parents. Dougie goes on a tangent about something that happened in Minnesota, and T.J can’t help but look at Anne by his brother’s side. She looks good, a lot healthier than she did back before they married. As fucked up as T.J had been, of course he’d noticed; the way she shuffled her food around her plate, the sometimes less than subtle excuses from the table. It’s a struggle, just like his own, and he can’t even bring himself to be jealous of her progress.

”So, how you holding up. T.J?”

Smooth, Dougie.

”Your faith in me is breathtaking, bro,” he shoots back, chewing demonstratively on his food.

Doug pulls a face at him, huffing. ”I just meant, it’s been a while since-”

”I’m good. It sucks, but it comes with being a Hammond. Same old, same old.”

”You know that’s not true, honey,” Elaine admonishes him, setting down her knife and fork.

And T.J knows that’s not entirely true either. The second Bud announced his intention to run for president, their lives were never the same. They became public property, something for people to scrutinize and put expectations upon. It’s not his father’s fault, but he’s not sure if he should put the blame on the people or the ones that cater to them.

”Any luck finding the bastard behind this?” Nana, always there to distract, even if it brings them back to the matter at heart.

”Nothing substantial yet,” Doug says, but T.J can tell from the way he clenches around the cutlery that there is something. ”I talked to Daniel-” That’s the fucking staffer’s name! T.J thinks triumphantly, ”-he didn’t seem like he was hiding anything.” His brother turns to him. ”Asked if you were okay.”

”Peachy.”

”Come on, man, we’re trying to help you!”

T.J is about to launch into a rant of his own, feeling the exasperation rise in his throat, but it lodges there, frozen in place when Aiden places his left hand over his under the table. It’s Thanksgiving and Christmas all over again, thumb running smoothly over his knuckles, a quiet show of solidarity, a simple gesture to say ”I’m here. It’s okay.” His outburst dies before it has time to potentially ruin dinner.

”I…” His voice comes out thick and low, and he squeezes Aiden’s hand. ”I don’t want to make a big deal out of it, it just makes it worse.”

”I know you don’t,” Elaine tells him, reaching out to pat his cheek. ”But if this is something… more, I want you to know that we’re not going to stand for it. You’ve been through enough, darling.” She pauses for a second, eye contact briefly breaking to look over at Aiden. ”Why don’t you bring Aiden with you to the rally next week?”

”Mom…”

Elaine pulls back, once again sitting straight in her chair. ”If you don’t mind?” She looks inquiringly at Aiden, and T.J can feel him stiffen in his seat.

”I… guess not? I-I just gotta check m-my schedule?”

”You don’t have to do this,” T.J assures him, then turns to his mother with a sharp look. ”Right?”

”Of course not, I just thought you would appreciate having him there. I know you don’t like these things all that much.”

Well, she’s not wrong about that. Elaine’s first campaign had been taxing enough to get through and that was when he could battle the pressure of presenting a perfect picture with blow. He’d been high a couple of times throughout, it was easier to smile and pretend that way. That’s not an option now. No floating through rallies and fundraisers in a blur, all edges smoothed out. T.J hates the way his mother managed to trap him, hates the way he can’t look at Aiden for the rest of the dinner, hates the way conversation dies down to hums and platitudes. He’s almost thankful when the family disperses after dinner almost like they knew this was painful. Aiden carries most of the charm as they say goodbye, thanking Elaine for the delicious food, giving her a hug that to T.J’s eyes looks as sincere as anything. He himself barely manages a light kiss to his mother’s cheek before he’s out the door.

”You’re angry,” Aiden states, slinging his arm around T.J’s shoulder.

He’s not sure whether to contest the statement or not. It’s not quite anger, not all of it. It’s worry and disappointment and apprehension, all swirling inside him, and T.J knows he needs to get a grip on it before it sets off his itch.

”You don’t have to come,” he murmurs, still keeping his eyes trained downwards, following his feet as they steer homewards. ”I can manage. Done it before.”

”But you don’t have to.”

Aiden stops mid-step, holding onto him gently to make him stand still, too, before placing both hands on his shoulders.

”I’m not… wild about the idea of standing in front a crowd, waving and smiling, but I can see what your mom’s thinking. If we go… if we stand there together, it’s a statement, right? We prove them wrong.”

”I hate that we have to do that,” T.J says, reluctantly looking up, breathing slowly in and out. ”I never thought I’d have to bring you into this, not this much. If she- If mom becomes President, I won’t move back. I don’t think Doug will either. It shouldn’t be as exciting as last time, people were going on and on about how the White House had not one but two First Sons, the first since JFK junior.” He uttered the last few words with rehearsed disdain, having heard them so many times, always with the same expectations attached to them.

”They came after you, T. You’ve done so well, and I want them to see that. If it helps that I stand by your side and show them just how much I am still in love with you, then baby, I’ll do it. I’ll dress up in my best suit, and I’ll kiss you on national god damn television if that’s what it takes.”

They both break down in snickers at that, T.J leaning in to press a kiss to his boyfriend’s jaw.

”You only have one suit, idiot.”

Aiden grins, kissing him back. ”Then clearly it’s my best one.”

It doesn’t take away all of his worries, but it eases them slightly. They spend the following days preparing, Aiden asking questions upon questions, getting asked questions in turn as he’s cleared by Elaine’s security to attend the rally as part of the family. It’s the only time before the rally T.J sees him even a little bit nervous, sitting with his hands clasped tightly in his lap, shaking and nodding his head so vigorously when he answers it sets the tight curls of his hair dancing. T.J draws a small sense of pride in being able to be the supportive one, to be the one who has the answers, who knows what will happen.

It doesn’t change the fact that they’re both a mess the day of the rally, hands shaking as they tie their ties, cursing under their breaths. True to his word, Aiden is clad in his only suit, hair pulled back into a tight bun. Though his heart is thundering in his chest, T.J can’t help but admire the man in front of him. It’s been almost a year since that first kiss, two years since they first met. It’s strange to think how much things have changed since Aiden came into his life.

”Hey,” he whispers, taking hold of Aiden’s hands as the man struggles to wrestle the silk into a tidy knot. His own fingers steady as they pry Aiden’s hands away, taking hold of they tie to twist and turn it in a pattern familiar to him. ”It’ll be fine. Find something to focus on. Not the people, that’s… overwhelming. Look at a flag, there’s always flags. Or balloons. I usually try to play connect the dots with them. One flag, linger. Another flag, linger.”

”And here I’d worked on my royal wave,” Aiden jokes, voice shaky as he exhales.

”You can wave.” T.J tucks the wide end of the tie through the loop he’s created, pulling to tighten the knot. ”I’ll be there.”

He smooths out Aiden’s shirt, pulling lightly on the lapels of his suit jacket. Aiden smiles weakly at him, fixing T.J’s tie in kind, straightening the collar before cupping his cheeks. T.J relishes in the sensation, the lightly calloused finger tips against his cheeks, the warmth emanating from the contanct. Tilting his head, he kisses Aiden’s hand, taking hold of it with his own, letting their fingers interlace.

”Ready?” he asks, gaze flickering over Aiden’s shoulder to the door behind which the public awaits.

”As I’ll ever be.”

It takes them both by surprise at first. Aiden, who has never been in front of this large a crowd before, breathes out a surprised ”wow” as they step onto the podium, squeezing T.J’s hand a bit harder. For T.J, it’s been a while since he’s been in the spotlight, but he eases into character sooner than he’d guessed, an easy smile gracing his features. He waves to the masses, his heart doing a little somersault when he sees Aiden doing the same from the corner of his eyes. The booming roar rises when Elaine finally takes the stage, and for a second, it’s almost like he’s back in that ballroom in Chicago.

The ruckus dies down as Elaine begins to speak, motioning with her hands for people to calm down. It’s always been fascinating to T.J how skillfully his mother can work a crowd, how with a simple gesture or a few choice words she can make her audience listen with bated breath, even when it’s just the standard phrases that precedes her true message.

”I am so happy to be here today, to see all of you. Your support and your enthusiasm are truly inspirational,” Elaine starts off, making a sweeping motion with her right hand. ”These are tough times, and we face even tougher times ahead of us. It is so important to stay strong, to stay together through these hardships.” The open palm becomes a fist, striking down with a decisive thud as her voice softens. ”It is far too easy to take the easy path, to turn a blind eye to injustice. I say, no more. No matter what happens, I will protect what matters to us, to this country. We are all family, and anyone who tries to challenge us, who tries to harm us,” She pauses, looking out over the crowd, and T.J can swear she is zeroing in on one of the cameras filming, “will see that we are prepared to defend ourselves.”

T.J has to fight to keep from frowning. It’s a tad more aggressive than he’s come to expect from his mother, almost to the point where it’s retaliatory. He steals a glance at Doug, looking proudly at their mother as the crowd breaks into cheers and applause. They all follow suit, but T.J can’t help but think there is something else going on, something in this speech he is missing, someone who will listen to it and see so much more than the impassioned outcry of a presidential candidate. He plays his part, knowing full well he will be in the papers for the coming week. He and Aiden have talked about it, prepared for it as best they can. The need to protect Aiden from the uglier sides of this mess boils in him, and through the final minutes of Elaine’s speech, he’s terrified that he made a mistake in letting Aiden convince him to come with him.

The man in question must have caught on to his discomfort, as he lean in to T.J when Elaine wraps up her speech.

”I’m fine,” he whispers under the thunderous roar, his breath tickling.

Something in him shifts, slotting together like pieces of a puzzle. They have made it. One year of sobriety and relapse and rehab and now the articles. It’s not gonna get easier, but they’ve made it this far. T.J thinks about how he’s been the older brother all his life but constantly been the one needing taking care of, needing protection. He wants to take that responsibility now, wants to be the man Aiden sees in him. When he smiles up at Aiden, there is true joy behind it. It stays etched on his face throughout the rally, on the walk home, settling into the kind of smile that lives in your eyes. Aiden stays the night again. Trouble sleeps nestled between them. T.J briefly wonders if this is what love really feels like before drifting off to sleep.

It takes the tabloids two full days to find out who Aiden is, running his life story over the following week. There’s nothing in there T.J doesn’t already know, but he can see the hurt in Aiden’s eyes, understands what he’s feeling. Someone has trespassed into his lover’s life. The way Elaine and her staff handles it makes warms his heart. She still refuses to say exactly what was up with her speech at the rally, brushing it off or switching the subject. T.J doesn’t believe for a second that the pointed jabs were just theatrics to win over the crowd. Maybe he’s not as invested in politics as Doug, but he’s sharp enough to see the broad strokes; the upswing in the polls leading up to the Democratic convention, the way the tabloids slowly back down from reporting on their every move. He’s sharp enough that when he sees President Fred Collier congratulate his mother on winning the nomination, he spots the unbridled disappointment and malice that the man tries to hide behind a slimy smile and grovelling words.

This man tried to destroy him. T.J swears to not let it happen again.