still in braille. I haven’t had the time to put it in print.”
At that, Cedric laughed. “I’ve been reading braille music since I was a kid. I never did get the hang of print, as much as that pissed Nicky off.”
Nicolas said something under his breath, but it was fond enough, making Cedric laugh again. Nik had all-but forgotten that Cedric had been blind—was blind, he wasn’t sure, and it felt impolite to ask which was the oddest sensation. But he was a stranger there, and this felt like a gift too fragile to risk.
“I have it in my bag,” he said.
Cedric dropped a warm hand on his arm. “Come on, I have a little upright in my study. We can muck about there and leave these idiots to do whatever idiot things they want to get up to.”
Nik smiled, wanted to feel like this could be home, but it was a struggle. All the same, he was eager—even more now that Cedric could read the notes himself. He grabbed his bag and took Cedric’s arm, walking the short path to the back room and right to the table where he could lay them all out.
“It’s not complete. It’s nearly, but I didn’t have time to put the finishing touches on it.”
“If you want help,” Cedric started.
Nik let out a small breath and managed a smile. “I would love that. Here let me…” He spread them out on the table, making sure they were in order. “If you want to read them?”
“It would be better if you played,” Cedric told him, and when Nik met him with silence, Cedric gave him a fond sigh. “I have this thing—this ability where I can hear a song and then be able to play it. I mean, it’s not perfect, but I usually get the hang of it pretty quickly.”
Nik felt a ferocious wave of envy, but then he remembered his own talent had gotten him here, and he pushed it down. “Okay, but just remember it’s not polished. It won’t be like what you’re used to playing. I’m not…”
A hand touched his shoulder, stopping his words, and Cedric’s fingers squeezed. “Hey. We want you here, okay? You’re a good fit.”
Nik wanted to argue, but mostly because he’d spent so much of his life not trusting that he was worthy of this life. It had sat so far out of his grasp for so long, it was hard to accept he was worth something now.
He turned to the piano, and he prepared himself for the inevitable pain this would conjure. He couldn’t hear the music, couldn’t play the music, without feeling the echo of Adam’s skin under his. And in a way, it was his penance, to always remember Adam, to never be allowed to forget the love he’d let slip away.
The first bars were the hardest, the hope in them—the fantasy of something bigger and grander than their quiet ending. But sharing this piece of Adam with others mattered more than the anguish it caused to rise in his chest. His hands flew over the keys, not stopping until they reached that final end. And he knew his chest was heaving, and that tears wanted to fall, and he knew that Cedric was watching him.
“What’s their name?”
Nik let out a watery laugh, and he shifted when Cedric sat beside him on the bench. “Adam. His name is Adam.”
“I like that name.”
Nik managed a smile as he bent his head toward his hands. “So do I.”
“How long ago?”
“Weeks,” Nik said, stopping the question before it could finish. “I…well, longer, I guess. Things were broken when Alessio showed up, and that sort of finalized it.”
“I’m sorry,” Cedric told him. “If you ever want to talk about it…”
“I don’t,” he said, maybe a little harsh, but he couldn’t take it back. “I just want to do this. This is all I’ve got left.”
Cedric hummed, then laid his hand on the back of Nik’s and just held it there. “Then let’s do this. The rest will come with time.”
He wasn’t quite sure what it meant, and in that moment, he didn’t want to ask.
It was easy to fall into a routine after that. Nicolas was relentless and bitchy where Cedric was patient and kind, but Nik found he needed both sides pressing against him in order to finish what he had left. The ending didn’t feel entirely right, he knew, but they were getting somewhere.
“If we want to debut this for a holiday performance,” Cedric started,