"Hey!"

When the door swung open, he'd been wearing a brilliant smile, but it quickly faltered, his jaw almost going slack before he pulled it back into a guilty frown. "Uh, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" A hand rummaged through his coat pocket for a phone, which he held up to Monty as if it were all the explanation needed.

The way Monty looked at him gave a not so subtle hint that he hadn't been expecting him. Or maybe it was the sheen of perspiration, or the fact he wore his hair differently than he was accustomed to. After resting both of his hands back in his pockets, he shifted himself to his right foot.

"I thought I might've left something here when I was over last... can I come inside?" His shoulders hunched as he tried to keep a low profile, not wanting to his real reason for visiting.

@monty

Adrian's eyes rolled aggressively.

"I'd like to think I've got more class than to show up at your house imposing something like that on you," he said with a snide undertone as he crossed the threshold of their house, bumping against Monty lightly as he passed.

"But do call when you're so pressed," he added before slinking away to carry out his plan.

He kicked off his shoes (because Monty's house was just too nice,) and began his search immediately, stalking towards the laundry closet. "I'll only be a second, don't mind me."

It all suited his needs perfectly; Monty was engrossed in his own activities, unprepared to host an uninvited guest who came calling without much, if any, of a forewarning. Ideally Monty would leave Adrian to it, returning to his activity of choice.

Leaving Adrian completely unsupervised.

Adrian began setting everything up, calling out his trevenant once the coast was clear and making sure not to cause too much of a ruckus.

“I’m not up for a booty call today, I’m afraid,” he whispered in a sardonic tone. Is that all Monty could think of, seeing him? Was he always going to be synonymous with that sort of question:

Wanna bang today? ...How about tomorrow?

He barked a short, almost bitter laugh.

Maybe Monty was just used to that from most of his hookups; he tried not to obsess over it too much while he put together his decorations, eventually getting to a point where he could consider his job done. Even if it was... garish.

His stomach became nothing but knots and butterflies as he thought about watching Monty open his gifts. Should he even watch him open them? Maybe he should just disappear and come back later, long after they'd find his gifts...




@monty

His heart warmed up a little at their gratitude.

"What else would you expect from your Secret Santa!?" His smile beaming, he pulled out his phone and showed Monty the message he'd received from Annie Mei telling him he was, of all people, Monty's Secret Santa. "I went nuts after; I mean, who ever gets someone they know with these?!" It allowed the opportunity to get something personal for them. Something they wouldn't dare turn down, or ever forget.

He was rummaging under the tree now, trying to grasp at the pokeball that blended in so well.

"The letter's from me, but this—he gestures with the pokeball, standing up to place it firmly in Monty's hands—It's the real gift." Stupid heart getting palpitations at Monty's touch aside, what he felt was genuine excitement to see them open their gift. But he adds quickly after handing it to Monty: "Let's... go outside to open it, yeah...?"

Adrian led the way out back, near the edge of the pool by... happenstance? No, it was premeditated.

"Give it a throw!" It was like a kid waiting excitedly for the pinata to be burst open, to get his hands on all the goodies inside. Throw it already!

@monty

A feebas nimbly flowed from out the pokeball and into the pool, quickly acquainting itself with the surroundings. It breached the water's surface, eyeing Adrian and Monty warily, before its eyes winked with glee. Adrian couldn't help but return the smile, pleased to see it could enjoy the accommodations Monty had made so painstakingly.

He shifted his attention to Monty, hoping to see them happy and hearty, but he can read a room. Monty is remiss of his holiday obligations to be thankful and jolly; instead he's obsessed with something, or perhaps someone. Adrian, irked as he is, can only try to pull him out of those thoughts. "What will you name her, then?

Adrian had been fidgeting with one of his pokeballs, an ulterior motive alight in his eyes. If he remembered correctly, Monty had went on at length about the difficulty raising a feebas posed, and had been prepared to leave his magikarp in their care to help with just that. It was his hope that magikarp would mindlessly fawn over the only other thing in the water with it, giving the feebas something of an admirer. The notion that it must be beautiful would come naturally to it then.

At least, that was his plan. But first he needed to make sure Monty wasn't going to torture himself.

@monty

"Oh yeah?" He wasn't going to tell Monty 'No, you don't have to!' if they wanted to get him something. But the actual holiday was still far off. It's not like he was hard pressed to come up with something on the spot. He only gave his early by happenstance, in accordance with the Secret Santa program (and the fact that the concert was before the holiday.) He shrugged lightly, but wore a wicked smile. "I hope it's a nice gift, then."

He stowed away the magikarp's pokeball, deciding to train it on his own instead; no need to bother Monty with a dopey fish. His brow softened up, and he looked at his hands almost wistfully.

"...What's his name?" His eyes shot up to Monty, looking for penance. He had to admit, it was a vexing situation to have stumbled upon, not to mention frustrating. "Your boyfriend's."

He'd spat out the last word with a hint of disdain. Nobody had told him still, it'd been a very one sided introduction. And Monty had absconded with his newest squeeze, off to do you know what while leaving him to contemplate on all of what happened. He deserved some answers, right?

@monty

There's something different. He can feel it in the stare Monty gives him, in the way his syllables drip with that same placid tone he himself would use when conversing with certain... undesirables.

He can only nod in silent affirmation at the seasoned application of politeness and courtesy that Monty shows him. Could he blame Adrian for being a bit testy about it? How long had it been since they'd met; it couldn't have been long.

The thing about blame, though, is it's easier to place on others and absolve oneself of it completely. And Adrian has fallen for that most classic of traps, instigating the situation in a manner perhaps uncalled for. But then, he's not really himself. Or maybe this is the first time he's actually been himself, the moody, irritable misfit he's always been painted as so effortlessly.

"So, you lied to me." It was almost a question, but it was more rhetorical; he didn't really want an answer, he wanted to seethe. Wanted to let the malice drip like vitriol, tainting whatever it contacted. Monty had given him an impression of the person he had always been... would always be.

And then quickly proved himself to be false.

"You don't see him like just another 'benefit'," his eyes were filled with shallow resent. It was hard to hate what you once had adored.

Adrian had voluntarily stepped into a pitfall, not realizing how deep it actually went. Or that the bottom was infested with gnarled pikes and barbed wire. How long would it take to get over this?

But more to the point, he had but a question.

"What am I supposed to do; disappear?"

He'd never even been introduced, and the man Monty had chosen refused to dignify him with a response. Didn't seem to treat him as another human being, although Adrian shared a similar opinion of them now, so that hardly bothered him.

But was he supposed to stop being their friend because of some oversensitive, jealous lover? Was Monty the sort of person to mindlessly placate someone, no matter how they personally felt? Or were they perhaps in alignment with their stance on the subject...? His stomach was nothing but knots and tangles; he absolutely loathed this.

@monty