opened your eyes.”
Nik let out a startled chuckle. “Did I?”
“I just mean, I thought…you know. You didn’t um…have any? But I saw…something.”
Nik sat up a bit, leaned in, then pried his left eyelid open with two fingers. What was there wasn’t as white as he thought—more red fleshy colored, and a little unnerving. “My doctor told my mom I needed implants to help keep the sockets from closing in on themselves, so I could comfortably wear prosthetics.”
“Oh,” Adam breathed out, and Nik let his eye go, sitting back.
“I can open my lids a little—I never realize when I do it.”
“And you don’t uh…you know. Wear glass eyes or whatever?” Adam chanced.
Nik’s laughter was light and sweet, and he shifted a little closer, going back to playing with Adam’s fingers. “They’re not actually made of glass—more like a plastic shell that goes over the implants. My mom got me some when I was a kid, but I used to rip them out every chance I got. I think after I flung them across a restaurant, she gave up.”
“Oh my god.” Adam shook his head, leaning in toward Nik, staring down at where his thin fingers were now tracing the tendons in his wrist. “That would be horrifying.”
“I think I thought it was fun. I don’t actually remember.” There was a short silence, then Nik said, “You don’t have to be afraid to ask me stuff, you know.”
“I just don’t want to be an ass,” Adam told him. “Trust me, I’m used to people asking me really fucked-up questions.”
“Like what’s in your pants?” Nik offered.
Adam groaned. “Yes. Or they want to see surgery scars or…whatever. One girl in my bio class my sophomore year asked me if testosterone makes you grow a penis, then asked me to prove it when I tried to explain how it worked.”
“Jesus,” Nik breathed. His fingers curled around Adam’s wrist and squeezed.
“It’s…you know. It sucks, but sometimes it’s funny.”
“If you don’t laugh, you cry,” Nik said. “It doesn’t bother me though, if you want to know things.”
Adam licked his lips, then shifted just a little bit away from Nik. “Can I show you something? You know, quid pro quo?”
“Sure, Clarice,” Nik said with a grin.
Adam blinked, then laughed and shoved at him. “Cute. I’m serious though.” He used his free hand to undo the buttons on his wrist cuff, then rolled the sleeve to his elbow before extending his arm. After a second of hesitation, he picked up Nik’s hand and gently laid it over his forearm where it was blackened with thick spirals of ink.
He didn’t say anything for a while, watching Nik’s brows raise higher and higher as he followed a pattern that no one could see with the ink covering it.
“Are these scars?” Nik breathed out when he reached the crook of Adam’s elbow.
Adam nodded. “Yeah. When I was eighteen and I met Damien for the first time, he gave me a scratcher—a tattoo with a needle and ink from a ballpoint pen. It got so fucking infected I think I almost went septic. They had to lance it, and then remove a bunch of skin, and it looked like I had these like empty canals all along my arm.”
“Is that why you’re in long sleeves?” Nik asked, retracing the lines the doctors had carved away. It was strange to feel someone touching the concave bits of him, but it felt oddly comforting and warm to have Nik’s fingers there.
“Nah, I was trying to be fancy for tonight. No one can actually see the scars. When I got my first job at the tattoo shop back home, I had the owner cover them up with black lines. You can’t actually see it without touching it.”
“So, perfect for me,” Nik murmured. The words were quiet, and yet like a bomb had gone off.
Adam moved before he was aware of it, pushing into Nik’s space, and Nik wasn’t moving back. He was more tense, and Adam breathed through his nerves, but this felt like a moment—a cliff with an unknown void beneath him.
He lifted a trembling hand and laid it on Nik’s shoulder. “I like you,” he said.
Nik’s jaw tensed, then he licked his lips. “I know. I like you too.”
“Nik,” Adam said. He closed his eyes and leaned their foreheads together, and Nik gripped the back of his neck like he needed Adam to stay steady. “I’m sorry about tonight.”
“No,” Nik said, his breath ghosting over Adam’s cheeks. “No. Whatever that was—that was on me.