The Invasion of Adam (Tork and Adam Book 2) by Claire Davis, Al Stewart

she went to get the spare key, and then ran back. His shaky hands struggled with the key, but eventually he fell in the room. Dickens ran to him meowing.
    “Tork? Where the fuck are you?”
    Instinct made him head for the bathroom. Adam was stronger than he looked, but nothing could have prepared him for what he found.
    “Oh, shit. What have you done?” He crouched down on the floor beside Tork, who was just a ball with knees and his green head sticking out the top. “Just—just stay there. I’m calling an ambulance.”
    That brought Tork back from wherever he’d gone. He looked up, so white, Adam instinctively reached out to stroke his cheek. “Whatever it is, we can make it right. I’ll—I’ll fix it, I promise.”
    Tork smiled and leaned into Adam’s hand. “You can’t, but I’m so pleased to see you.”
    Adam was sobbing. He should be the strong one now, but all he wanted was for Tork to tell him what to do. He rubbed his forehead so brutally it hurt.
    “It’s OK, I’m sorry. It’s over now. I couldn’t stop the craving, but it’s over now. Adam?”
    “I need to call an ambulance. I’m a shit boyfriend, but I can do that.”
    “You’re my perfect boyfriend. Just help me up. I’m OK now.”
    Somehow they cleaned up and washed Tork’s arm. The cut was, after all, not very big, but seeing it there on Tork’s arm made Adam tremble all over.
    “Why did you do it? I’ve seen the cuts before, but I don’t get it. Why would you hurt yourself like that?”
    Adam realised he was shouting and crying, and in a far worse state than Tork. He tried to stop and focused on helping Tork wrap his arm in bandages, but all he could think was Tork was hurt and unhappy, and maybe he’d end up back on the streets and it was all over.
    Tork led them both to the sofa. “Just, come here,” he said. “We need to both calm down.”
    There were so many things Adam wanted to know, but would he make it worse by asking? He didn’t know. This was so far out of his comfort zone, even almost a year after starting work at the shelter. So he said nothing.
    “Adam, I don’t know how to explain, but I am so sorry you saw that. I will understand if you don’t want to see me anymore,” Tork said quietly, and the room swayed a little as Adam tried to not cry again.
    “Of course I wanna see you! I just—don’t get it.” He sighed miserably.
    “I used to do it a lot. Now, only when I can’t see any other way to stop the walls closing in on me, from everything falling down on my head.”
    “But doesn’t it hurt?”
    “Yes, it does. It never used to. But I need to feel a pain that I can understand.”
    “You want to kill yourself?” Adam’s voice wobbled.
    “No, no. I do it because I want to live. It helps me keep going.”
    Half of Adam’s brain heard what Tork said, but the other half swiftly skimmed through all the people he’d met at the shelter. He desperately searched for anything that might help, but all he found was an image of his mum hugging him after he fell over.
    “Shall I make you some soup?” Adam suggested. “It might warm you up a bit.”
    “Soup?”
    “Yeah, sorry, that’s utter crap. Bollocks! What I meant was, you’re not on your own anymore, Tork. I’m trying to—you know—to be in your shoes.” He finished helplessly. He was so rubbish at this.
    “Ah, soup! Yes, let’s have some soup. That is just what I need. You always know what I need.”
    Adam squeezed him so hard. “Buy why all this today? You’ve been so much better.”
    “I went to see my dad.”
    * * *
    They washed the soup bowls and spoons and went to bed, cuddling close together.
    “It went badly?” Adam asked, watching Tork’s light oval eyes and wondering how anyone could not want to be around him. What the fuck had his dad done?
    “Not badly exactly. We did not speak. I didn’t speak. He may have spoken, but I just shouted.”
    “So what did he do to make you so mad? I mean—so angry. I didn’t mean…you