“No, you asshole, or they wouldn’t be on their way to you right now!”
Adam jerked upright, clearly horrified. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Oh, I’m not, and you deserve every inch of the tongue-lashing you’re going to get,” Noemi snapped. “I can’t believe you didn’t call us.”
“I texted Mom!” Adam protested. “I swear I did, I told her I was fine and I’d call her tonight!” He pulled the phone away from his ear to look at the screen as Noemi said something. Adam glanced up at Etienne, mortification making his face slack. “I texted MOMA,” he whispered.
Etienne’s eyebrows went up. “The Museum of Modern Art? Is that a joke? Why do you even have them in your phone?”
Adam ignored him. “Noemi?” he said. “Have they left yet? Can you stop them?” Noemi’s voice had quieted with her worries, and Etienne couldn’t hear her response, but Adam sagged again, pressing his face into Etienne’s shoulder. “I’m so fucked,” he mumbled. “Noemi, I’ll call you later.”
“I’m guessing they’re on their way?” Etienne said, resisting the impulse to pet his soft hair.
“Try ‘just landed’,” Adam said. He sighed and straightened. “We’ll just barely beat them home.”
“You texted MOMA,” Etienne said. He couldn’t—quite—stop his lips twitching.
“Shut up,” Adam said. “It’s so not funny.”
“It’s a little funny,” Etienne protested, and caught the end of the death glare Adam leveled at him. “Okay, but it’ll be funny. Twenty years from now, we can all have a good laugh about that time you texted MOMA instead of your mother and she thought you were dead and flew across two countries and then actually killed you.”
Adam shoved at him and Etienne caught his hand, laughing, and pulled him into a kiss. Adam’s mouth was still miserable, tight with unhappiness, and Etienne slid a hand into his hair, tugging gently until he heard the breath catch in Adam’s throat.
“It’ll be okay,” he murmured, pressing their foreheads together. “They’ll yell and get it out of their systems and you’ll apologize and it’ll. Be. Okay.” He eased away enough to see Adam’s face. “I’ll get my stuff together and be gone before they get there, okay?”
Adam clutched at him. “No. No. If I have to do this, you are not leaving me, do you understand? Don’t you fucking dare abandon me now, Etienne, or I swear to god I will haunt you when she kills me. Are we clear?”
“Okay, Jesus,” Etienne said. “You’re not coming out to them, though, right? Or are we doing that conversation too?”
Adam shook his head. “I don’t think I can handle that right now.”
“Then I’m just your friend who helped you out,” Etienne said, patting his hand.
“You’re so good to me,” Adam said. “I’m gonna give you so much sex when they’re gone, I swear.”
Etienne snorted a laugh, cupping his good cheek. “Gonna hold you to that. Now for the real question. Why do you have the Museum of Modern Arts’ number in your phone?”
Adam sighed. “I interned there in college, okay? I was an art major. And technically, I texted my old boss at MOMA, and she’s very concerned, can I just go five minutes without fucking up, please?”
“An art major,” Etienne said blankly. “And you became a pro hockey player because…?”
“Because I love the sport,” Adam said. “I couldn’t decide between hockey and art for awhile but ultimately I went with hockey because there’s nothing like the rush I get from being on the ice.”
“What kind of art?”
“Studies, actually. History and shit. I thought about teaching for awhile, but then I realized I just… I got more from hockey. I was happier in the rink. So I focused on that.”
Etienne thought about Adam in a classroom, maybe wearing glasses and a cardigan as he lectured, and had to shift his weight.
“If you make a single ‘hot for teacher’ joke, I’m breaking up with you, I swear to God,” Adam threatened.
Etienne went very still, hope and terror tumbling over each other in his chest. “Are we… are we together?”
Adam just looked confused. “I mean… I thought… you wanted to be?”
“We haven’t talked about it,” Etienne said. “You’re doing that thing again, where you just assume. You do it kind of a lot.”
“When have I ever—”
Etienne held up a finger to tick off a list. “You took me home five minutes after meeting me while drunk off your ass. You set up camp in my life as soon as you got my phone number. You made me your emergency contact without even asking me, for Christ’s sake. And then you kissed me and it’s like you’ve just decided we’re together, but we haven’t even talked about it, Cary.”
Adam looked stunned and wounded, eyes dark and vulnerable. “I thought….” He swallowed hard. “I thought you wanted… me. And to be my friend.”
“I did. I do. Christ, Adam, stop looking at me like that.” Etienne captured Adam’s hand as he tried to pull away. “I love being with you. Talking to you. You make me laugh so much. You’re… you’re so great, and I have such a good time with you, and dear God I want to fuck you into the mattress so hard. But I just… you can’t just assume these things. Okay? I need to have input on this too.”
Adam nodded silently.
Etienne cupped the back of his neck. “I want to be with you. I want to date you. If—” His turn to swallow. “If you want me.”
Adam leaned forward into a kiss, teeth and tongues meeting wet and messy. “I want you so much,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to bulldoze you. I’m sorry. The doctor was asking for a contact and I didn’t have anyone here—it was a choice between you and Jake, I mean come on—and I meant to ask you after and make sure it was okay but I just forgot and then everything happened and….”
“Yeah, I get it,” Etienne said. He rubbed the nape of Adam’s neck with a thumb, making him shiver. “Did you ask the doctor when you can have sex?”
“He said non-strenuous activity is fine now, nothing too… athletic.”
Etienne smiled, knowing it was dark and possessive and enjoying the way Adam’s eyes widened. “I can work with that.”
When the taxi pulled up in front of Adam’s building, Adam fumbled to pay the driver, looking slightly dazed. Etienne drew away, silently giving him space to pull himself together.
It was a good thing he did, because Adam’s parents were knocking on his door when Adam and Etienne stepped out of the elevator.
“Mom!”
Adam’s parents spun. His mother was tall and rangy like Adam, and Etienne could easily see where Adam had gotten his looks in her dark eyes and high cheekbones.
“Adam Alexis Noah Caron, you are in so much trouble.”
Etienne had to give Adam credit for not turning tail and running as she advanced on him, her dark blue eyes stormy with anger and worry. She cupped Adam’s face, long fingers careful against the luridly purple and green bruise.