Serenity Grove isn't Serene or a Grove aka Adam One, Neighbor Zero - a mini-fic (Patreon)

This is just one of probably many drabbles about Adam and Noah and their new life in their subdivision. Unbeta'd/Unedited. Let me know if you want more like this or if you're dying to know what happened when the towel came off. ETA: For the people saying this is realistic it's because it's a true story that happened this weekend when my neighbor yet again blew his leaves into our yeard and my daughter in law plotted revenge. NoahWhen Adam had gifted Noah a brand new house, he’d had dozens of ridiculous dreams about what might happen. He’d imagined everything from Adam waiting for him in nothing but an apron to Adam being arrested for forgetting a body on the front lawn. It was safe to say the idea of moving had stressed him out. The only thing that had kept him going was their two—now four—dogs having a place to run free. What Noah hadn’t foreseen was his husband devolving into some conspiracy theorist nutjob who looked two seconds away from becoming that meme with the crazy haired guy pointing at a murder board like ‘aliens’ . Yet, as Noah stood there in nothing but his towel, staring at his gorgeous husband, he wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have seen this coming somehow. Adam wore only a pair of green boxer briefs and athletic socks that covered his muscular calves. His dark hair was a mess, standing on end like he’d rolled right out of bed and then to his new post. Noah crossed his arms over his chest, pondering whether it was better to ask or just walk away. He stared at his husband, currently kneeling on their living room sofa, one arm on the back, the other holding Aiden’s six thousand dollar night-vision binoculars to his eyes. Three of their four dogs kept him company. Sadie had her paws on the back of the sofa as well, still as a statue except for her wagging tail and heavy breathing. Poppy and Pixie, their dachshund puppies—Noah’s other Christmas gifts—stood on their hind legs, prancing back and forth excitedly, like those dancing hot dogs from movie theater commercials back in the fifties. The only one not participating in this little mission was Dexter, who lay curled up in a three thousand dollar beanbag chair, snoring like a fifty-year-old man with sleep apnea. To be fair, Dexter was pretty much a fifty-year-old man with sleep apnea. Noah sighed, closing his eyes and counting to ten before he dared ask his husband what he was doing. He longed for the days when the only one bent over the sofa in his underwear was him. “Babe?” he asked, steeling himself for the inevitable dumbassery to come. Adam didn’t even turn around to look at him. “Yeah?” he asked, clearly distracted. When was the last time Adam had ignored a fresh from the shower Noah? Never, not once, in the history of their relationship. He would always grab his ass or ogle him or make a lewd comment. On a good day, he’d set him on the sink and undo all of Noah’s efforts to get clean. But not today. “What are you doing?” he asked, trying to keep his tone neutral even while he contemplated walking over and kicking his husband’s shapely ass for ignoring the hotness that was him in a towel.“Recon.” Another longsuffering sigh escaped him. “What?” “Recon,” Adam said again, like it was a totally normal thing to say while staring out the window of a subdivision filled with million dollar homes. “I know I’m going to regret asking, but why are you spying on our neighbors?” “That dickbag next door has been blowing his leaves in our yard.” Noah blinked in his husband’s direction for a solid thirty seconds before finally saying, “What?” This time Adam did turn around. His expression intense, pale blue eyes lit with passion. “That neighbor guy on the left, Boggs or Griggs or whatever his name is, the one who’s been an antisocial douche since we moved in…Yeah, I think he’s blowing his leaves into our yard when we’re not home.” “And?” “What do you mean, and?” Adam asked, clearly offended. “We have a yard service that takes care of the leaves,” Noah reminded him.Adam shook his head in that stubborn way that made him look like a toddler. “We got a letter from the HOA because our leaves were blocking the drain. Those were not our leaves, someone put them there. I’m not paying a fine for someone else’s leaves in my drain.” Noah dug his palms into his eye sockets, hoping when he put his hands down this would all be just another dumb dream. But no, his husband was still there, handsome face filled with righteous indignation. Had his husband finally cracked? Was this what happened when you put a psychopath with ADHD in the suburbs? “How much is the fine?” Noah asked, trying to keep his tone neutral. “Two. Hundred. Dollars,” Adam emphasized. Noah snorted. “I’ve seen you spend more than that on a good shot of Whiskey. Hell, you’ve spent more than that on a single taco.” Adam sniffed delicately. “It’s the principle of the matter.” The principle of the matter? When did his husband start caring about principles? Did he need to call in reinforcements? “You really might need to get a job, babe.” Adam’s mouth fell open. “That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me. I’m too pretty to do real work.” Noah shook his head. “The ‘burbs are making you crazy-er. Crazier. You sound like a lunatic right now.” Adam made a sweeping gesture. “Listen, I let you drag me out here to this godforsaken hellscape known as Serenity Grove just so you could play Dr. Doolittle to a bunch of stinky animals straight from the Island of Misfit Toys. Serenity Grove. Talk about false advertising. There’s nothing serene about this place and not a grove in sight.” “You bought this house without any input from me, remember? You gave it to me as a Christmas gift.” Adam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause you wanted it. I’d give you my left arm if you wanted it but it doesn’t mean I’d like it.” “That’s…” Noah trailed off trying to put his thoughts into words. “Weirdly romantic, I guess. But also, you need to find a hobby.” “I don’t have time for hobbies.” This time it was Noah who’s mouth fell open. “You don’t have time? What is it you’re doing that’s so pressing?” Adam set down his binoculars and began listing things on his fingers. “On Mondays, I watch Janice across the street sneak her side piece past the ring doorbell. She’s super extra about it, too. Like she’s hte lead in the new Mission Impossible but with yoga pants.” “That’s not a-” Adam cut him off. “I inspect the recycling bins on Tuesdays. Did you know the Carters drink boxed wine? And not just using the spout thingie like civilized people either. I found a giant silly straw sticking out of the bag…like a grown up Capri-Sun. It’s actually kind of genius,” he tacked on begrudgingly. “Babe-” Adam tapped his third finger. “On Wednesdays, I follow the same route as Mrs. Broaderick when she walks her Pomeranian, Inga. She always talks to her sister on speakerphone, usually about her daughter’s shitty ass boyfriend. I’m like this close—” he pinched his fingers together. “—to figuring out a name so I can add him to our kill list.” “That’s…not happening. We cannot kill people we have a connection to, even if its just in a six degrees of Kevin Bacon kind of way.” Adam was not listening to him, clearly lost in his own world. “Also I think Dexter has a crush on Inga. I tried to tell him that Pomeranian’s are high maintenance and that Inga looked like a golddigger,” he gave a wistful sigh. “But the heart wants what the heart wants.” Recognition slammed into Noah like a semi. “Oh, God is this the woman who sent me that nasty letter about Dexter humping her award winning dog at the dog park last week? The one who said you didn’t even try to intervene? The one who threatened to get a restraining order against us and our dog?” Adam rolled his eyes, scoffing. “If Inga is willing to lower her standards enough to let our geriatric gas bag gremlin hit it, who am I to keep him from getting it in where ever he can? Have you seen him? He probably doesn’t have many good days left. Besides, his hips are riddled with arthritis, his stroke game is weak. I doubt Inga will bother making the same mistake twice.” “That’s rude,” Noah said, just as Dexter made a disgusting noise, then wiggled his little body into a more comfortable position. “Even if it’s true. But that’s not the point of any of this.” “Right. I was telling you about how busy I am,” He went back to his fingers. “Thursdays is when the Jenkin’s alcohol gets delivered, and lets just say they’re singlehandedly keeping that fancy liqour store two blocks over in business. You’d think they were throwing cocktail parties every night with the amount of booze they consume. Why are all our neighbors such lushes?” Noah gave him a flat stare. “Maybe they’re as bored as you seem to be?” “I’m not bored, baby. I’m busy. I’m practically a PI now, and I’ve got a heavy case load. Who else is going to solve the mystery of the unmarked pedo van that shows up twice a week and just parks on the cul-de-sac?” “The what?” Noah gasped, pulse stuttering. “My working theories are, one: Janice has two boyfriends or two: the FBI’s investigating one of the neighbors and they’ve got their place bugged. Probably for something hella boring like tax evasion.” Noah felt his soul leave his body. “You’re not the slightest bit concerned about an unmarked van parked in the cul-de-sac twice a week?” “Uh, hello. I just said I’m very much concerned,” Adam countered, like Noah was the idiot. “I’m also tracking when the Millers open and close their blinds. I’m pretty sure their using Morse code to send messages.” “Morse code,” Noah parroted. “Like their sending out an SOS?” “Not exactly,” Adam countered. “I’m pretty sure he actually spelled ‘mind your own business’ but I’m not sure yet.” “That’s it. I’m calling dad. You need a job.” Adam shook his head again. “No way. You can’t make me work. It’s in our marriage vows. Besides, if I’m at work who’s going to keep you up to date on the Angeloff’s morning screaming matches?” “They’re fighting when I’m at work now? And you’re listening without me?” Noah’s heart plummeted, betrayal burning through him. “That’s our thing that we do together by the pool while we have our wine.” “Baby, please don’t be mad,” Adam said. “They’re fighting like twice a day now. And the weirdest fucking thing is, in the mornings they fight in Russian, but at night, they fight in English. I don’t speak Russian, so I’m recording the fights and sending them to Arsen to translate. I tried to send them to August but he accused me of having no life. Can you believe that?” “What? Really? No way,” Noah deadpanned. “I have a life,” Adam stated. “And that guy next door is most definitely blowing his leaves in our yard. Like, our tree doesn’t even have any leaves left. Where are they all coming from? And why is his yard always leaf free when he has those two big ass trees? I’ll tell you why. Because he’s blowing them into our yard.” “Baby. I’m begging you, please stop stalking our neighbors. You sound like one of those crazy old ladies that sits at their windows with binoculars and rats everyone out to the HOA.” “Gladys is a very nice lady, thank you very much, And she has a point. Crabgrass is a huge problem. And those kids really shouldn’t just be loitering on the sidewalks with their skateboards. The little punks.” “Are you even beefing with the kids in the neighborhood now, too?” Noah asked, feeling like he’d stepped into The Twilight Zone. “They started it. They called Dexter ugly,” Adam said. “They asked if he was that alien from the kids movie.” Noah gasped, hand coming to his chest. “They did not!” Adam nodded empharitcally. “They did. They said he looked like a science experiment gone wrong and one of them lectured me on buying ‘luxury’ dogs and said that it was people like us who led to them being malformed and that we were why he couldn’t breathe right.” Noah suddenly felt hot all over, nostrils flaring. “Did you tell them that he came that way? That he was a rescue? That we saved him? That he’s our baby and we love him more than our own lives?” Adam gave an exaggerated shurg. “I tried, baby. I did. But he was a little dick about it.” “So what did you do?” Noah asked. “Did you tell him to eat a bag of dicks?” “I told him our dog would stick around a lot longer than his shitty ass hairline and that if he didn’t shut the fuck up, I’d marry his dad and make him my stepson then send him away to military school.” Noah sighed, seeing another letter in his future. This one from an angry parent. “Well, as long as you were mature about it,” Noah quipped, still seething somewhat over the insult to his precious baby angel.” But if you have to marry that kid’s dad, I’m not getting a divorce, so be prepared to go to prison for polygamy. And I’m using all your money to buy more animals while your in the slammer.” Adam scoffed, his lip tugging up in a smirk. “Do you know how embarrassing it would be for me to have committed like a hundred kills and then going to prison for polygamy? It’s like being a gangster and going to prison for mail fraud. I’d be someone’s bitch before dinner.” “Sure you would,” Noah said, shaking his head. How the fuck had they gotten so off course with this. “I’m worried about you.” Adam frowned. “What? Why?” “I’ve been standing in this towel for at least twenty minutes and you haven’t tried to take it off of me once.” Adam gave him a slimy grin, looking him up and down. “We’ve been in bed all morning? Wasn’t three times enough?” “Who are you and what have you done with my husband,” Noah countered. Adam rolled his eyes and then took his position on the sofa once more, getting on his knees and putting the binoculars up. A chill ran up Noah’s spine at his husband’s evil laugh. “There’s the asshat now.” “How are you going to prove he’s blowing the leaves into our yard?” Noah finally asked, giving in and crossing to the sofa, crawling in beside his husband. He had no idea why he was holding the binoculars, Noah could see the neighbor and his yard just fine. “I don’t need proof. I need revenge. And I’m about to get it…any minute now.” Noah’s pulse started to race. “Adam, what did you do?” “You’ll see. Just watch the front porch.” Noah squinted, taking in the giant lawn size black garbage bag sitting on their doormat. “Please tell me there’s not a dead body or a horse head in there or something?” Noah whined. “Please, as if I would be that sloppy. Besides, if I murdered a horse to get revenge on a neighbor, you’d have me skinned alive.” That was true. “So what did you do then?” “Just watch. Here he comes now.” Noah’s heart thudded hard and heavy against his ribs as they watched the middle-aged man with his gray tinged beard get out of his towncar. He was dressed for golf in a pastel pink polo shirt and the worlds ugliest checkered pants. Noah chewed his lip as he watched the man walk to his front door like he didn’t have a care in the world. He stopped short when he saw the enormous bag on his door mat, then frowned, looking around blindly like he was expecting a camera crew or some kind of explanation. After a moment, he untied the bag, peering inside. After about thirty seconds, he turned and stared directly into their window. Noah tried to duck down until only his eyes peered over the windowsill. But Adam just waved, then gave him the finger. “What’s in the bag?” Noah asked again, dread heavy in his stomach. “His leaves,” Adam said, far too gleeful for such a benign answer. Noah frowned. “You just raked his leaves into a bag for him? For revenge?” “Uh-huh,” he said, distracted. Noah tried to imagine how this was a fitting retaliation. “This doesn’t seem like…you.” “Just keep watching,” he said in a sing-song voice. The man retied the bag with far too much hostility, then yanked it up, most likely to trudge with it to the trash can. But when he lifted the bag, the whole bottom gave out, dumping all the leaves onto the man’s front porch. “Return to sender,” Adam said, smirking as the man threw a fit that rivaled Rumpelstiltskin. “What did I just witness?” “I raked up all his leaves and some of ours, obviously, and I put them in that bag, then took it to his house and slit the bottom of the bag so when he lifted it up, bam, leaves everywhere.” Noah couldn’t hear what the man was saying but it was clear he was cursing a blue streak, looking at their window and aggressively pointing. “He’s really pitching a fit over those leaves.” Adam grinned. “Well, not just leaves…” “Adam,” Noah said his name like a warning. “I let the dogs contribute as well,” he said, his words laced with a smug satisfaction. “I didn’t want them to feel left out.” Noah had a sinking feeling as he asked, “Did you put dog shit in the man’s leaves?” Adam dropped back to sit properly on the sofa. The three dogs jumped down then ran to join Dexter for his afternoon snooze, all of them curling around him into a puppy pile that gave Noah a serotonin boost. “You can’t let these people win,” Adam said sagely. “If you let them get away with something like this once, they’ll keep getting bolder, trying to take over more and more of your territory until they ice you out of your own property.” “Easy, Bugsy,” Noah muttered. “But I guess I should be grateful everyone is still breathing.” “Mm,” Adam said, looking at Noah hungrily. “I think I deserve a reward for my restraint.” Noah eyed him warily. “What kind of reward?” Adam maneuvered Noah into his lap, unwrapping his towel like a Christmas present, then leering at the skin he revealed. “This is a good start.” “Adam…” “Shh,” he said, bringing Noah down for a kiss that melted his last bit of resolve. “We’re not done talking about this,” Noah said in between deep, drugging kisses that he knew were about to make him even later for the office. Good thing he was the boss. Adam’s hand closed around his length, squeezing just right. Noah moaned. “But I guess we can be done talking about it for now.” Adam grinned, licking his way into his mouth before muttering, “Good boy.”