his phone until the buzzer rang, then he collected the food and paid a nice tip before locking the door behind him. He grabbed Nik’s favorite tray, laying everything out with spoons and cheap wooden chopsticks, then made his way to the bedroom down the back of the hall.
There was a light on—a soft yellow glow unlike the lamp they usually stole from Van’s room. It was perched on the nightstand and pointed up near the window, but it was enough. Adam set the tray on the edge of the bed, then climbed up next to Nik and pulled his knees to his chest.
“Is the lamp new?”
Nik gave a nod, looking miserable. “I bought it online, um…impulse buy. I’ve never needed one before. I was surprised my bank didn’t call to see if my card was stolen.”
Adam laughed softly, leaning his cheek on his crooked knees, and he turned his head to face Nik. He was beautiful—like he always was, always would be, no matter what happened between them. Unable to stop himself this time, he reached his hand out and traced a line from the top of his temple, around to the front of his chin.
“I missed you.” The words came out raw and ragged, and he hated himself for not being able to hold back.
“Adam…”
“No,” Adam said. “Not now. Not tonight.”
Nik looked like he wanted to argue for a moment, but then he stopped and gave a sharp nod. “You’re probably starving.”
“So are you, even if you don’t feel it,” Adam countered. He unfolded himself, then reached for the tray and pulled it between them. He let Nik feel around first, until he got his soup, and then Adam took his fried rice and forced down bite after bite until his stomach felt like it would burst.
Nik was more sparse, more delicate. He took down half the soup and a couple of crab wontons, and Adam found it both profoundly sad and a little amusing how deeply he missed the sight of Nik inelegantly shoveling food into his face—not caring how it looked because he didn’t know how to.
“Have you worked on your music?” Adam asked after he set the tray aside.
Nik let out a small sigh and leaned back, reaching for Adam who slid into his arms too willingly. “Some. It needs work—my head has been in a dark place this week.”
Adam dragged his lip ring between his teeth and pulled on it, tugging until it hurt. “I’m sure it’ll even out. It always does, right?”
“I suppose so.” Nik’s answer wasn’t entirely honest, but this time Adam was pretty sure it was only because he didn’t know the answer. Instead of pushing the issue, Adam laid his head over the steady beat of Nik’s heart and let himself fall victim to the soothing rhythm. Sleep tugged at him as Nik’s fingers buried in his hair. “Thank you for being here with me.”
Adam didn’t know what to say, so he turned his head and pressed a kiss to Nik’s ribs. “I want you to play your song for me later. When you can.”
“Yes,” Nik told him, but his word was swallowed by a yawn, so Adam rolled to the side and turned the lamp off. The darkness settled, as heavy as everything he was feeling, but it was soothing in its own way. He breathed a little deeper, Nik held on a little tighter, and for a moment he could pretend like it was all okay.
Adam woke in the morning not long after the sun had risen. He was exhausted from broken sleep, but in spite of Nik dropping off early, he’d been up and down until well past three that morning. When Adam finally opened his eyes again after a few solid hours, he found the bed next to him empty and cold.
He was used to it once, but now it made him panic, and he didn’t relax until he found Nik at the stove stirring up eggs. His sigh of relief was loud enough to alert Nik to his presence, who turned his head toward him and smiled.
“I thought you might be hungry. I don’t think you ate much last night, and we forgot to put the food away.”
Adam grimaced as he slid over to the coffee maker and reached for a mug. “Did we?”
Nik laughed. “I stepped in it this morning.”
Guilt hit him—a whisper of Van’s previous warning, do you know what it’s like to live with a blind person? “Shit. I’m so sorry.”
“I’ve stepped