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Adam notices. And he knows Warlock notices too. In fact, he notices Warlock noticing and notices his pretending not to notice. And at first it was fine.
Because at first, Adam didn’t expect This to happen. He had found an angry, lost kitten in the street, practically drowned by his own stubborn nature and shoved him inside a facility to be cared for.
He didn’t expect them to get along and certainly didn’t expect them to get along so well they fell in love. Adam didn’t expect to fall in love at all. At least, he really really hoped he wouldn’t.
But then decade after decade slipped by in a haze reminiscent of a long holiday. Waves of time splashing across the former Antichrist without leaving so much as a drop.
Warlock on the other hand, wore his years of weathering like a badge. A literal trophy against the demons in his head.
Age was settling on him like a fine frost. If he were any other man under any other circumstances, Adam would have appreciated the way his partner’s hair shimmered now in certain light revealing a handful of silver strands threaded through.
He’d admire the newest crinkles around his eyes, the way he goes through his certain little motions; all those habits and routines designed over a lifetime. But the best, and Adam’s personal favorite, are the deep seated laugh lines on his face. A personal achievement. That once drowned cat had laughed so often and so deeply it was clear as day to anyone who looked at him.
Well, clear as day to Adam, which is really all that counted. Warlock was a tough crowd.
But Adam wasn’t any other man in any other circumstance.
Far from it. He was an immortal man with very specifically strange circumstances having led him to this fate.
And he didn’t appreciate the changes time wrought. And he couldn't bare to think of what they would eventually entail.
And Warlock noticed.
Hard to miss when your husband doesn’t show a lick of aging after 20 years. And it’s plenty hard enough when the love of your life is dying before your eyes.
Warlock was perfectly healthy, but he was mortal. He didn’t mind. It was just the slowest form of dying. And he would know. At one point or another, he had researched just about all of them.
But he noticed and instead of confronting Adam on his fears, silly or founded, he pretended not to notice. Trusting that he would work himself through to the point of actually talking to him soon enough, he continued through his morning routine, which, as always, ended with Adam sitting in his chair at the kitchen table.
Warlock placed a hand on his husband's shoulder and swooped down to place a chaste kiss on his cheek before moving on to sit in his place by Adam’s side.
After all, of anyone, Warlock knew how hard it was being with him.