Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
“If I was interrupting your day, would you even tell me?” Juno had asked Oliver when he first picked up.
And his friend had laughed into the phone. “Bitch, please. Do you even know me?”
It was business as usual, and Juno felt far more relaxed as the two of them started to chat about their lives. Everything was both important and unimportant the way it always had been. It was a small comfort.
With a sigh, Juno dropped down onto the bench and kicked his legs out toward the water. They were on a very rocky side of the lake, and off in the distance, he could hear waves crashing against boulders. It was probably the most peaceful he’d felt since they’d hit the road.
Not counting the way he felt in Piper’s arms, but that was different.
Silence lingered for a while, and then Oliver said, “You have something to tell me, don’t you?”
Juno had a feeling his friend suspected he was keeping secrets. During the pre-wedding sleepover and then into the wedding itself, Oliver and Miles both kept staring at him. He figured he was being obvious, but it was a testament to their friendship that neither of them had badgered him about it. But he knew they were waiting.
Still, now wasn’t the time for that.
“I found my brother.”
Oliver coughed. “I…uh. You what?”
“I took one of those DNA tests, you know? Where you spit into a tube? And a half brother popped up.”
Oliver was silent for far too long. “Is that…a good thing?”
“I think so.” Juno sat forward, resting one elbow on his knee while he rubbed at his eyes. Nothing was making it better. He’d lost more since yesterday. It was becoming more obvious now, and he was going to have to tell Piper. “We talked on the phone. He was really nice. He, uh…he wants to meet me. He lives kind of up near you.”
“Where?” Oliver demanded. Juno could hear him going into protective mode, and his heart swelled. He loved his friend so fucking much.
“Connecticut. I don’t know what city, but I thought I’d maybe bring Miles. And…” He hesitated.
“And?” Oliver pressed.
Juno closed his eyes. “And Piper. I think he and I are a thing now.”
“You think ?”
“I called him my boyfriend. He was cool with it.”
Oliver burst into laughter, though the sound wasn’t cruel or mocking. “Amazing. Holy fuck, do you realize that the three of us hooked up with dudes who could literally be our dads. And I’m pretty sure Miles calls Emmett Daddy.”
“Oh my God, he so does,” Juno said, jumping to his feet. He started pacing along the walkway. “I heard him do it a bunch of times when I was visiting. He was trying to keep it quiet, but he’s so bad at it.”
“He is!” Oliver said with another laugh. “He’s so bad at covering the microphone when we’re talking. One time, he forgot to put me on mute. It’s fucking adorable.”
“It’s fitting. That man needed a Daddy,” Juno said. He stopped in the middle of the walkway and turned toward the lake. The sun was getting lower in the sky, and he knew he should probably go wake Piper, but he needed a few more minutes with his best friend. “I think I’m happy.”
“Yeah?”
Juno grinned. “Yeah. I want to bring him up to see you when I make plans with my brother.”
“Just don’t love him more than you love me,” Oliver said. His tone was joking, but Juno knew he wasn’t kidding at all.
“Not a chance in hell. He’s just some guy. I think I’ll like getting to know him. He never met our dad, and his situation wasn’t as fucked as mine, but I think he kind of gets it.”
“The orphan thing,” Oliver said, and Juno’s lip quirked up on the left side. “I’m happy for you, babe.”
“I am too. I felt a little foolish after I took the test. I guess I was looking for some answers, but even if all I get out of it is a brother, that’s something. Right?”
“Yeah. He didn’t have what you were looking for?”
The irony of that statement wasn’t lost on him, even if Oliver didn’t know it yet. “I guess not. Anyway, I need to go wake Piper up in a few. He’s taking me to this observatory that his friend runs so we can see the planets.”
Oliver let out a low whistle. “Sounds fancy. This guy a rocket scientist or something?”
“Actually…sort of.” Juno felt a sudden weight—it had hit him last night when he realized Piper was an actual doctor of astrophysics. He peripherally understood he was dating a really smart guy who went to space, but for some reason, learning that was what made it real. “He’s a former astronaut, and he’s got a doctorate.”
“Holy fuck, dude!”
Juno laughed and rubbed a hand down his face. “Yeah. Christ, next to him and you and Miles and Miles’s men, I’m a sorry excuse for an adult. I mean, fuck, what did I do with my life besides learn how to give cupcakes a fancy swirl on top?”
“Don’t,” Oliver said, his tone stern. “Your accomplishments don’t mean less, and you know it.”
He did, and yet, they sometimes felt so damn small. And while he knew he could keep searching for more, he was content. He just didn’t know what kind of person that made him.
One worthy of Piper’s time and affection, he supposed. And he never doubted the love and support Oliver and Miles had for him. He just had moments where he felt a little less than everyone else, and his circumstances right then weren’t helping.
Eventually, he was going to be more dependent. He was going to need more, whether he liked it or not.
It was a tough pill to swallow.
“Babe?”
“I’ll call you later, okay?” Juno said softly. “I miss you.”
“When do you get back?”
Juno rubbed at his temple, frowning in thought. “Like, two weeks? We’re going to Piper’s brother’s wedding, then we’re heading home.” They had plans to stop at a few more places, but Juno was starting to doubt there would be any point. And frankly, he was missing his routine.
Not to mention the amount of shit he’d need to do in order to prepare for his new reality. He thought about all those pamphlets he had back home. All those calls he’d need to make and classes he’d have to attend.
It felt heavy.
“Call me when you get in,” Oliver said. “I’m going to book a trip. I need to see you, and I’m not waiting for you to cart your ass up here.”
That would ruin his plans to tell Oliver and Miles at the same time, but maybe that was for the best. Maybe he should hurry it along, rip off the Band-Aid. “I need to see you too.”
Oliver let out a small sigh of relief. “Good. Have a fun trip. Can you take photos of the planets? If you can, you should totally send me some.”
“Love you,” Juno said without making promises.
The call ended, and he made his way back to the inn and to the room, where he found Piper sitting with his back to the headboard, his laptop on his knees. He looked up with a grin and beckoned Juno over with a flick of his chin.
“Have a nice walk?”
“It wasn’t bad. Oliver and I talked for…” He looked at his phone and squinted. “Shit. An hour and a half?” He dropped to the bed beside Piper and turned his face up for a kiss. “Did you have a nice nap?”
“It was okay. I miss my bed.”
Juno had to agree. The beds at the inn were probably the least comfortable of all the places they’d stayed at. His back was starting to ache a little, and he was dreaming of the cozy, warm space that Piper had created in his home.
A home that was soon to be Juno’s too.
“Are you hungry?” Piper’s question pulled him out of his head.
“I could eat. I don’t know if I want fancy upscale café food. Which, by the way, seems weird to call it that. It’s not a café at all.”
“I think they were trying to be more French,” Piper said with a half grin. “But we can eat on the way to the observatory. I found a little town with some restaurants and shops and stuff, and everything’s open late. We can walk around until Adam’s ready for us.”
Juno had no idea what to expect from the observatory. It wasn’t open to the public, so it wasn’t like there was a museum or activities there for laymen like him to explore. He was feeling more and more out of place, and while he knew that very little would make Piper not want him, he worried that he would see just how much Juno didn’t belong in his world.
“What’s that face?”
Juno turned away. “Nothing. Let’s go to town.”
Piper made an unhappy noise, but he set his laptop aside and swung his feet off the bed. Juno glanced over, trying to see what was on the screen, but his growing grey spot made it impossible for him to read. Fuck.
Tonight would be another night he’d have to find an excuse not to look over the menu.
Christ, maybe he should just tell him.
He jumped half a foot when an arm came around his waist, and he realized he hadn’t seen Piper approach. He closed his eyes and breathed, trying to calm his heart down as Piper pulled him close. “You’re jumpy tonight. Did I do something?”
“No, I—” Just say it. Just fucking say it .
“Juno. Sugar .” Piper touched his chin, and Juno opened his eyes. He found himself inches from Piper’s face and perfectly able to see his gorgeous eyes and lush mouth. “Talk to me. Please.”
Juno let out a small breath. It wasn’t now or never because he couldn’t keep this secret for much longer, but did he really want to weight the night down with it? But fuck, he was tired. He was so, so tired. “My right eye is blurry.”
Piper frowned. “Blurry, like…”
“Like it’s happening. Just like it did with my left. The spot isn’t as big, and it’s not as opaque as the left one. Yet. But it’s getting there. This was how it started before.”
Piper’s face fell. “Oh, sugar…”
“It’s fine. I was expecting it.” There was a slight wobble to his voice, but he cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. He was not going to let this take him down. He knew what he was feeling was normal. He’d read all the message boards with people like him typing out almost his exact story. He knew what his therapist would say: this was a loss, and he was allowed to mourn. He was allowed to be angry.
He was even allowed to fall apart for moments at a time.
What he shouldn’t do was let this ruin him or the good things in his life that he’d worked so hard for. It was just his sight, after all. There were so many more things he had left.
Unfortunately, that didn’t really make him feel better. He knew then he should probably give his therapist a call.
“Let’s go find something to eat. Are you still okay to walk around?”
Juno nodded. “Yeah. I could really use the distraction.”
“What about tonight? With the telescope?”
Juno didn’t have an answer to that. He’d never used one before, and he had no idea how much of his vision he needed. “Can we still try it?”
Piper cupped his cheek. “Anything you want.”
“Anything?”
“Yes.”
Juno was tempted to give him several absurd scenarios that no reasonable man would agree to just to test him, but that felt mean. That would just be him lashing out in anger because everything felt so far outside of his control, and he didn’t want Piper making promises he couldn’t keep.
But his lover was trying, and God help him, but Juno loved him for it.
He was in love with him for many reasons, in fact.
He just wasn’t ready to say it.
Gathering his hoodie, Juno slipped into his boots, then let Piper keep him close as they made their way down to the car. It wasn’t fully dark, but it was heading that way, and he peered ahead at the horizon as Piper drove, hoping he might see the lights one last time. Instead, he just saw fading grey skies.
He jolted when Piper picked up his hand, and he realized that, yeah, he was jumpy. “Sorry,” he muttered when Piper kissed the inside of his wrist.
“Don’t be. If you don’t want to do this?—”
“No, I do. Trust me, I really do. I just feel…” He hesitated, then shrugged. “I know you hate this word, but I feel stupid. Sometimes I can forget that out of everyone I know, I’m the least educated, and some days, it’s harder.”
“Why are you bothered about this right now?” Piper asked. There was no judgment in his tone, and Juno loved him a little bit more for that.
“When I was talking with Oliver, I thought, I’m going to bring my boyfriend to meet him.” Juno smiled. “Then I thought, all these people in the same room and all of them doing so much more than me. So much better.”
Piper scoffed as he turned off the freeway and down a small road. Off in the distance, Juno could see the faint prickle of lights against the darkening sky. “I’m a mall cop. Well, I was a mall cop. Then I quit my job, and now I’m unemployed.”
“You’re a retired astrophysicist, a former astronaut, with a doctorate ,” Juno said.
“I’m a man who owns a town house who’s falling in love with a baker that makes the best cupcakes I have ever—and I mean this literally— ever tasted in my life.”
Juno’s whole body flushed. “It’s not magic.”
“No. It’s science. Baking is science. It’s measurements and chemical reactions. It’s flavor profiles that need skill to understand. You can’t just slap two things together and hope it goes well. Juno, I get that you don’t see yourself the way other people do. And I understand why. All I can ask is that you trust me when I say you’re so much more than you realize.”
Licking his lips, Juno couldn’t say anything. He nodded, not quite sure if he meant it, but he could at least give Piper this. The silence between them was a little tense, but Piper made it better when he kissed Juno’s hand one more time.
“We’re almost there.”
Juno squeezed his hand back and continued to say nothing.
Piper found a pizza place, which made life a lot easier. Juno had a small wood-fired veggie lovers and a salad, and he picked off some of Piper’s pepperoni when it came. They laughed a little and stayed quiet a lot, and Juno felt at ease in ways he wasn’t expecting.
They people-watched for a while after the server took their plates, and eventually, Piper stood and held out his hand. “Come on. I just got a text from Adam. He said we can come hang out while he gets the telescope ready.”
Juno followed him out the door, holding Piper’s hand tightly. The darker it was, the harder it was for him to see details, and twice, his foot slipped off the curb, and he turned his ankle.
“So. Are you going to get a cane?” Piper asked.
Juno’s stomach squirmed. “I think I probably have to. Eventually. My eye doctor told me the best thing I can do is learn it all before most of my vision is compromised. But I’m not sure I’ll get the chance since we’re going to be on the road.”
Piper pulled him to a stop. “We can go home, sugar. We don’t need to finish this trip.”
Juno licked his lips nervously, then shook his head. “I really want to meet your brother. I want to go to the wedding. I want to do everything I can before it all changes.” He closed his eyes and bowed his head. “It might make it harder later, but I don’t think I’m going to regret it. I can always take cane lessons. But I can’t always go back and see these things.” Those words sat heavy because while they sounded right, he wasn’t sure he meant them.
Yes, he wanted to head into his future with no regrets, but he was also tired.
Piper lifted his chin and kissed him. “Come on. The planets are waiting.”
The drive out to the observatory was long. It was nearly ten by the time they arrived, and Juno was mesmerized by the dark sky. The observatory was on a tall hill, small lights along the road that were low to the ground but nothing else to illuminate the road.
Juno pressed his nose to the glass. He almost felt like he could see deep into space. “This is amazing,” he whispered, then sat back. “Probably not as cool as seeing from up there, but?—”
“There’s something different about the view of the skies from Earth,” Piper said, cutting him off. “I never realized how much I missed it until I was off-planet.”
Piper stopped his car next to another one on a long gravel driveway, and Juno winced when his feet crunched on the small rocks. Everything was so quiet each footstep sounded like a drumbeat in a marching band. He tried to keep his steps lighter, but his body was too dense and heavy for that.
“Relax,” Piper murmured, taking his hand.
Before Juno could tell him that relaxing was impossible, a door opened with a loud metal creak. Across the drive, Juno could just make out the figure of a person standing in a lit doorway. It reminded him a little of a horror movie, and a chill ran up his spine.
He squeezed Piper’s hand tighter and let him lead the way until the view of the figure became clearer. It had to be Adam. He was tall, a little gangly with a mop of unruly dark curls, and when they stepped into the light, Juno was able to see his very stark, almost icy-blue eyes.
He looked stern and almost terrifying, and then he smiled, and his cheeks caved in with heavy dimples. He extended Juno an unnaturally long-fingered hand that looked like he could have had a great career playing piano.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Adam.”
“Juno.” His voice was rough, and he cleared his throat before taking his hand back. “Thanks for having me.”
“Thanks for coming out. I don’t usually get a lot of visitors this time of year, and it gets a little lonely. And it’s worse because my husband’s over in Switzerland working with CERN.”
Juno sort of knew what it was. At least, he knew enough to know it was a big deal. He glanced over at Piper, whose eyes had gone very wide.
“I’m sorry. Your husband ?”
Adam let out a short laugh. “I told you that you weren’t the bad friend in this situation. But please don’t feel shitty. We didn’t have a wedding. Magnus took a few semesters to teach in Cardiff while he was working on some mapping project, and neither of us wanted to pause what we were doing.”
Magnus. Where had Juno heard that name before? That was…
“Your blind friend?” he blurted.
Piper blinked, looking just as stunned, then nodded. “Yeah. That’s the one.”
“The blind friend?” Adam said, not sounding happy about that at all. “He’s so much more than that. Are you fucking serious about that, Piper? Christ, I thought?—”
“No,” Juno said, interrupting him. “No, he didn’t mean it like that.”
Adam lifted a brow, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s rich.”
“I was freaking out because I’m losing my sight,” Juno said. He hadn’t wanted to share that with a total stranger, but he wasn’t about to let Piper get dragged for something he didn’t do. “I was kind of having a panic attack about being functional at a job. So he told me about, well, your husband.”
Adam instantly softened, and while there was pity on his face, it didn’t feel as bad as Juno expected it to. “Sorry. Shit, I’m sorry, Piper. I know you’re not an asshole. It’s just…you know how people are with him. I get defensive.”
“I know,” Piper said softly. He stepped a little closer to Juno. “You’re allowed to want to protect him. I just didn’t even know you two were together. How long?”
Adam shrugged, brows furrowed. “Three years, now? We got married last spring. We never even told anyone, so you’re not alone.” There was an awkward pause, and then Adam clapped his hands together. “Well. Now that everything’s real fucking weird, let’s see some planets, shall we?”
That startled a laugh out of Juno as Piper took his hand and kissed it. Adam moved through another door, propping it open, and Juno could see a massive circular room with computers along the tables that lined the walls, and though he couldn’t make it out completely from where he was standing, he was pretty sure there was a giant telescope in the middle of the room.
“Thank you,” Piper murmured, leaning in toward Juno’s ear as soon as Adam was out of hearing range.
Juno lifted a brow at him. “For?”
“Defending me.”
Rolling his eyes, Juno sighed and nudged Piper in the stomach. “I told the truth. You weren’t being ableist or anything. You were being kind.” Juno had to wonder how many people had simply never intervened, even when Piper was being falsely accused of something like this. How many people knew the truth and chose to stay silent?
He figured it was more than one since Piper seemed to have expected it. And Juno hated that for him.
Piper just smiled at Juno’s words, then took his hand and tugged him across the floor and through the small doorway. He was right about the telescope. It was massive, extending toward the roof, which was partially open to the night sky. Juno’s heart rose into his throat, beating hard against his Adam’s apple.
It was amazing. He had no words for the way it made him feel except small. Only it didn’t bother him the way it usually did.
“This is…wow.”
Piper laughed. “Yeah. It always gets me right in the gut every time I’m in a room like this.” He pulled Juno toward the wall of computers, where Adam had taken a seat and was typing stuff onto a screen. Some type of code or mathematical formula, maybe?
Juno couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
“He’s setting it to the right position so we’ll be able to see the planets,” Piper explained. “It’s not actually very complicated once you learn it. I think that’s why directors like to use it in movies. It looks like something only an evil genius can do, but I learned to do it when I was, like, eleven, maybe?”
Juno blinked at him. “Eleven?”
“I had a neighbor who worked at a lab like this,” Piper said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “He used to take me with him whenever my parents were busy.”
Juno was pretty sure that just spoke to Piper’s genius and not the ease of learning how to set a freaking telescope, but he wasn’t going to argue with him either. He was just there to enjoy.
“So,” Adam said, spinning around in his chair, “sorry for being insensitive, but how much can you see?”
Juno flinched at the question.
“I promise I’m not asking to be a dick. I want to make sure we can get you a good view, and Magnus has been working with a company that creates equipment that helps make astronomy accessible for people with low vision.”
Yeah, Juno was never going to be that guy. He wasn’t going to go home and invent a whole line of bakeware for blind people to make cupcakes or whatever. He didn’t have it in him. But he was at least going to take advantage of the strides that Adam’s obviously amazing husband had made in the field.
“So, my left eye doesn’t have much sight apart from my periphery, and most of my color vision is gone.” He felt Piper stiffen beside him, and he realized he hadn’t really explained any of this to him. Not in detail. “My right eye just started losing vision. I haven’t had it tested, so I don’t know the degree of loss, but it’s all central. I’m really struggling to read.”
“The restaurant,” Piper murmured.
Juno sighed. “Yeah. The restaurant.”
Adam looked between them before realizing it wasn’t a conversation he was part of. “No problem. I have a few lenses we can use, and you can tell me which one is best. Sit tight. This is going to take a good twenty minutes.”
Piper took Juno’s hand and tugged him toward a set of chairs, and they sat in awkward silence as Adam moved to the center of the room and climbed up a small set of stairs. Juno couldn’t see past the little wall, but Adam disappeared, so he assumed there was a chair there.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,” Juno said after a moment.
Piper shook his head. “I wish you had told me, but only because I hate knowing you’re suffering alone in this. I know I can’t fix it, but I can be there.”
Juno nodded. “I’m…I’m not used to having help. And I don’t want to rely on anyone else to get through this, you know? I mean, logically, I know I’m gonna need to do that more. There’s shit I just cannot do now. I can’t drive. I need to sell my car when I get back, but the rest…”
“I get it,” Piper said, then laughed softly when Juno shot him a look of disbelief. “Okay, you’re right. I don’t get it exactly. But when I thought my heart was going to give out, I put myself on a list for a cardiac alert dog because I didn’t want to get stuck being some, I don’t know, Victorian-era invalid depending on the kindness of my baby brother.”
Juno got a sudden image of Piper all dressed in some Bridgerton -style outfits, and his dick twitched. He swallowed against a dry throat. “Would that have really been so bad?”
“Probably not, no,” Piper admitted. “But I still hated it. I’d spent my entire life being the one taking care of everyone. I wasn’t sure I’d still know myself if I had to give that up.”
And that was it. That was the problem. Who was Juno if he lost even a small piece of his independence? He didn’t know if that was reality, but he did know it was his biggest fear.
“I just need to figure out as much of this as I can on my own, okay? Like, there has to be a way for me to read a menu without your help,” Juno said.
“I’m sure there is. You can learn braille,” Piper said. “You can use your phone to zoom in on the text and make it massive. There’s even these glasses that’ll read things to you.”
“Where the fuck did you learn all this?” Juno demanded.
Piper laughed and glanced away sheepishly. “The internet?”
Juno wasn’t sure if he wanted to hit him or kiss him. The latter was more appealing. Piper had done all of that to be kind, not to be patronizing.
“You might not be able to drive, but you get to pick who takes you places. You might struggle to read, but there are ways to learn new techniques,” Piper said. “You won’t lose yourself.”
“No, I know,” Juno said. “I didn’t say my fear was rational.”
“I think it is,” Piper told him. “Anyone in your shoes would be shit-scared. But I meant what I said before—you can tell me things, sugar. We can figure it out together.”
Together. It was the first time in his life Juno didn’t hate that word. He leaned in and smiled when Piper touched his chin, and they kissed until Adam cleared his throat and reminded them both they weren’t alone.
It took another forty minutes before Juno was able to see anything. He was on the verge of giving up, but Adam was persistent and stubborn. And finally, with the twist of a lens—or whatever Adam was actually doing with it—suddenly, the image in the viewfinder became clear.
It took Juno a moment of blinking and adjusting his eye before he could really see it, but there it was. There she was. Jupiter. The planet was smaller than he expected but somehow bigger too. The view was close enough that he could see the colors—oranges and browns and reds. And there were two massive stripes bisecting the middle. Around her were other images, faintly glowing, and he realized they were the moons.
“Holy shit,” he whispered.
Piper laughed and stroked a hand down his back. “You see it?”
“I see it.” And he could. It was like his blind spot wasn’t even there. Whatever lens Adam’s husband had invented, it was amazing. “How?”
“Prismatic mirrors,” Adam said. “To be honest, even I don’t fully understand how Magnus’s team made it work, but he’s had a lot of success with this lens.”
Juno couldn’t stop staring. He had no real idea what he was looking at apart from recognizing the image from his books in school, but it was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. He blinked, and his eye began to water, and he knew he needed a break. Stepping back, he swiped at his eye, and somehow, the spot in the center was even more profoundly there.
The telescope had, for only a moment, let him forget what his reality was.
“Saturn next?” Adam offered.
Juno wasn’t sure he wanted to say yes. He was worried that every time he pulled away, it would feel worse. But he also knew he didn’t want to give this up. He’d tried his left eye, but his vision was too poor for even the strongest lens. He didn’t want to have regrets.
“Let’s do it.”
Adam grinned and moved back to the desk. “Hold on to your butts,” he said. Then he typed something into the computer, and the whole platform began to rotate.
Juno gasped and grabbed Piper’s arm to steady himself, but before he could freak out, it went still again. The telescope made a bunch of noise after that, and Juno sat while Adam switched the lens, then began his exploration.
Another twenty minutes went by before he called Piper over. “Your turn, bud.”
Piper waved him off. “I’ve seen it. Let Juno have this.”
He wanted to argue, but he was also getting tired. The night had been long and emotional in ways he hadn’t planned for. He wanted to curl up in fuzzy pajamas and lie in bed and simply feel Piper breathing next to him.
Adam beckoned him over, and Juno leaned in, pressing his eye to the viewfinder. It was exactly as before—a blurry grey blob in the center and black on the edges. Saturn was obviously right in the center. Then, slowly, the image began to shift until all Juno could see was a bright light.
“Okay?” Adam asked.
“It’s just one big blob of light.”
Adam chuckled. “Give me a second.” He did things—important, space, science-y things. Juno just stood there, his eye pressed to the little rubber circle, and he breathed.
And then…it was Saturn. It was still bright, but it began to move more into focus. He could see the faint color, and the rings—God, he could see the rings in detail. It almost looked like a painting.
“How is that actually real?” Juno murmured. He didn’t really want an answer.
“I know. It doesn’t look like that up close,” Adam told him. “There are clouds on the surface, and the rings are rocky. I think it’s prettier from here.”
Juno blinked a few times before pulling back, taking time to adjust to his vision before he turned and searched for Piper. He wasn’t there. “Uh?”
“Bathroom,” Adam said. He was leaning against the railing, his arms folded over his chest. “You get your fill?”
Juno couldn’t say he had, but he couldn’t say he hadn’t. “This was really nice. Thank you.”
Adam nodded, staring at him like he was some sort of science experiment. “How bad will it get?” He gestured toward Juno’s eyes.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he shrugged. “Zero light perception in my central vision and blurry, colorblind vision in my periphery. If I try really hard, I can read, but I have to make the letters huge, and it gives me a headache after a few moments.” He turned to face Adam fully and closed his right eye. Holding up both hands in the center, he moved them out to the sides until he could see his fingers. “Everything between my hands is gone. It’s a sort of…greyish blob. Like TV static.” He opened his right eye again, and Adam was watching him curiously. “What about your husband?”
“Oh, he’s totally blind now. He was diagnosed when he was really young with this condition that thins the optic nerve. And it just kept getting thinner and thinner as he got older. His completely atrophied when he was in elementary school. Sorry if I sound like a textbook. I don’t totally understand it, but that’s how he explained it to me.”
Juno bit his lower lip. “Mine’s the optic nerve too. But it’s not supposed to take everything. Just enough to make life a giant pain in the ass.”
Adam burst into laughter. “I think that’s how Magnus feels some days.”
“But he’s in Sweden,” Juno pointed out. “Alone.”
“Switzerland,” Adam corrected. “But he goes to Sweden too. And France. Sometimes he takes a lab assistant with him, depending on what he’s doing. But he travels on his own.”
“Totally blind.”
Adam lifted a brow. “He’s forty-four. He’s had a lot of years to practice.”
That hit Juno like a ton of bricks. This was still new for him. It was fresh and it was raw, but there would come a time he would be blind longer than he was sighted, and there was a good chance he’d forget what it was like to have normal vision.
He wasn’t sure how that made him feel.
“Well, I’m not a big, famous scientist,” Juno said.
“What are you?”
He laughed. “I’m a baker. Well, I was a baker. I had a bakery in the mall, and I made cupcakes and cookies.”
“But you quit?”
“I owned it, and I turned in my notice to vacate. The rent was getting too expensive,” Juno admitted. “I don’t plan on giving it up.”
“Good.” Adam walked to the computer, and then a low, rumbling boom sounded, and the roof began to close. “We need more cupcakes in the world.”
Juno turned his gaze up to watch the night sky slowly disappear behind white-painted metal. “Do you think Piper misses all of this? Or does he seem happier now?”
“I think Piper was ready to retire a long time ago,” Adam said. He walked around the desk and leaned on the railing toward Juno. “We didn’t know each other long, but he looked tired even back then.”
“I’m a lot happier now,” a voice called.
Juno felt a little embarrassed he’d been caught talking about Piper but not embarrassed enough to apologize for it. This was the point—getting to know each other. He turned to face the railing as Piper took the steps up two at a time, then shot a smirk at Adam before going right for Juno.
He barely had any time to react before Piper hauled him close and kissed him. “A lot happier,” he repeated against Juno’s lips.
“Get the fuck out of my lab. I haven’t had a tongue in my mouth for two months,” Adam groaned.
Piper chuckled and kept Juno wrapped in his arms as he turned to his friend. “When do you get to go visit?”
“Three and a half weeks, down to the hour,” Adam said, looking at his wrist like he had a watch there. “I can’t wait.”
“Tell Magnus I said hello,” Piper told him, leaning his head on Juno’s. His body felt heavy like he was exhausted, and Juno realized he probably was. “I’d love to have you guys over someday when you’re both free.”
“Which is likely never, if we go on statistics,” Adam said. He walked over and tugged Piper into a hug. “But I know Magnus would love to see you again.”
Piper gave him a soft pat on the cheek before extending his hand to Juno. “Come on, love.”
Love. That was new. It made his fingers and toes feel all hot and tingly, and the feeling only got worse when he took Piper’s hand and let the man drag him to the car.