Adam fought the sting of tears and crawled into Etienne’s arms. He didn’t miss the tiny hitch of Etienne’s breath as Adam curled up, head under his chin.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Etienne curved his arms around Adam’s waist, holding him tight. “We’ll get through this.”
Adam rubbed his cheek against Etienne’s chest, then pushed until Etienne got the hint and lay down so Adam was sprawled over him.
“You’ve been so busy taking care of me. When’s the last time you were taken care of?”
Etienne cupped Adam’s cheek. “I’m fine.”
In the dark, Adam might as well have been fully blind. He couldn’t even see Etienne’s face, barely a foot away. But his voice was soft and full of affection, so Adam bent and kissed him. Then he slid backward until he was straddling Etienne’s thighs.
He didn’t need his eyes for this. He could do this one thing, at least, by feel and sound alone. He savored the tiny noises and stuttered breaths, the salt on his tongue as Etienne surrendered to his touch, body going limp against the mattress even as his cock hardened in Adam’s mouth.
I love you, Adam told him silently with every stroke, every flick of his tongue. I love you, I love you, I’m sorry.
Etienne made a muffled noise and caught at Adam’s hair, hands clutching tight as he emptied down Adam’s throat. Adam swallowed it all, easing Etienne through it until he sagged back into the pillows with a choked noise. Then he pulled off, wiping his mouth.
“Come here,” Etienne murmured.
Adam obeyed, but pushed Etienne’s hand away when he tried to reach for him. “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
Adam rubbed his nose against Etienne’s shoulder. “This was for you.”
Etienne sighed and pressed a kiss to Adam’s hair.
Adam woke up the next morning as Etienne drew the blinds and the sound of his footsteps retreated into the bathroom. The shower started. Adam rolled onto his back, feeling the sun’s rays on his face, and began to count.
When he opened his eyes, he told himself, he’d be able to see. He’d be able to get on with life. Coach, or be an announcer. Do something other than sit around and be useless.
Three, two, one.
He opened his eyes.
Etienne came out of the bathroom. “Morning,” he said. His voice was muffled—probably drying his hair.
Adam blinked back tears and sat up, holding out a hand. Etienne crossed the bedroom and knelt in front of him, taking Adam’s hand. Like this, in full sunlight, Adam could just make out the jut of Etienne’s nose, his striking eyes shrouded in shadow. He traced the curve of Etienne’s lips with a thumb.
“I miss your face,” he whispered.
Etienne’s mouth drooped under Adam’s touch. “I know, baby. I’m still right here.”
“But if I get the surgery and it doesn’t work, I won’t even have this much,” Adam managed. He brushed Etienne’s cheekbone. “I’ll have nothing.”
“That’s not true,” Etienne said, catching Adam’s hand and pressing it to his cheek. “You might not have your eyes but you still have everything else. You have me.”
“Do you want me to have the surgery?” Adam asked abruptly.
Etienne was quiet for a long moment. “I want you to do what you feel you need to do. Whatever that is, I’ll support you.”
“But you want me to.”
Etienne sighed, breath warm on Adam’s fingers. “I want you… out of this stasis. I hate seeing you like this. But it’s not about me. It’s your choice.”
Adam leaned forward until their foreheads were pressed together. “I’m scared.”
“I know.”
“I need more time.”
“Okay,” Etienne said immediately. “Are you hungry?”
Adam nodded and followed him to the kitchen.
37
A week later, Etienne woke Adam up in the middle of the night.
“What time is it?” Adam asked through a yawn.
“About midnight,” Etienne murmured, kissing him.
Adam made a sleepily pleased noise and tried to pull Etienne on top of him, but Etienne slithered out of his hands.
“Get dressed.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s a secret,” Etienne said. The noises suggested he’d gotten off the bed and was putting his shoes on.
Adam sat up. “But it’s midnight.”
“I’ll make it worth your while,” Etienne said. Something hit the bed. Adam’s shoes.
Adam scowled but he swung his legs out of bed. “Find me something to wear, then.”
Dressed and still complaining, Adam followed Etienne out the door. He held Etienne’s hand tightly as they walked down the hall, the dim lighting no match for Adam’s limited vision.
They rode the elevator down and Etienne took Adam outside. A car door opened in front of them.
“Watch your head,” Etienne said, guiding him to the opening.
Adam slid carefully inside. Etienne shut the door behind him but was around the other side and crawling in beside him almost immediately. The car started without a word.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” Etienne took Adam’s hand.
Adam scowled but didn’t pull away. When the car stopped, he got out at Etienne’s prompting, shivering in the night air. Etienne just took his hand again and started walking. Adam followed, feeling cobblestones under his feet. Etienne would tell him if there was a step or something in his path.
Keys jingled. A lock turned. Etienne opened a door and they stepped through.
Adam stopped dead just inside as the familiar smell of the rink hit his nose. He could smell stale popcorn and spilled beer, rubber and concrete and cleaning chemicals, and underneath it, cold and sweet in his lungs, the smell of the ice.
“Tenny—”
Etienne said nothing, locking the door behind them. Then he stepped close, into Adam’s space. “Do you trust me?” he murmured.
Adam swallowed hard. Of course he did. But was he strong enough to step out on the ice when he could barely see? The reminder of what he’d lost cut him to the quick. But he trusted Etienne. He loved Etienne, and Etienne would never hurt him willingly.
He nodded and was rewarded with a quick kiss. Then his hand was back in Etienne’s, and they were walking down the hall. Adam trailed his free hand along the cinder block wall, over the bumps and ridges. He knew the way by heart, knew the way the locker room door creaked when it opened, the feel of his footsteps on the hard rubber floor mats inside.
Adam sat where Etienne put him, fear and anticipation choking his breath. He accepted the skates Etienne put in his arms and bent to put them on. This too, he could do without sight, his fingers swift and sure on the laces. When they were on, Etienne handed him a helmet.
“Ready?” he said softly.
Adam nodded again, still unable to speak. They went up the ramp to the ice hand in hand, Etienne making a quick detour to flip on the lights. Adam almost smiled, remembering how he’d done the same thing after the disastrous visit to Etienne’s father.