Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Juno found the handle on the Uber car, hating that it was painted the same color as the body, so it took him longer to figure it out. The driver was patient, at least, and he didn't talk, which Juno appreciated. He was no longer reeling after his eye appointments, which were happening every three weeks now that his vision loss was progressing rapidly.

His doctor had charts and graphs with colors and dark spots that he could no longer see much of—which he supposed was telling. But at this appointment, he'd gotten news he'd wanted to hear: the loss was slowing. And there was a chance—because it happened to a few people with his condition—that he could actually recover some of his visual field over the next few months.

Juno wasn't going to bet on that, and he figured whatever he regained would probably be negligible in the grand scheme of things. His left eye was still worse than his right, but his right was bad enough that reading was next to impossible unless the font was massive.

So, no more menus for him. He tried to read a few pages on Piper's Kindle, but having to read one word at a time was driving him nuts. He settled on renewing his audiobook subscription instead and let Piper invest in a voice-over program for both their laptops so Juno could use whichever one he felt like.

He thought about protesting, but the cost was astronomical, so he figured he'd let his boyfriend spoil him a little.

After all, Juno made up for it with blowjobs and cupcakes—two things he was still incredible at.

He'd been home now for three months, and he'd been dodging Oliver and Miles, but he'd finally caved the week before and agreed to have them over. He and Piper had finished decorating Piper's new house, and Juno had bitten the bullet and gone to the single orientation and mobility class appointment that was covered by his insurance.

It was four hours long, covering indoor and outdoor cane skills, and it came with a free cane plus a few discount coupons for more if he wanted to purchase some. He'd been eyeing a few bedazzled ones on a website in the pamphlet his doctor had given him, and he was pretty sure he was going to order a few just as soon as he got back to work and had more cash flow.

Which was the third thing he and Piper were getting ready to finish. Piper had presented the idea of a tiny-house bakery once he dropped the bomb that he was putting his town house up for sale and looking for property near the water with a massive yard.

It was overwhelming for Juno, who had seen this kind of real estate exchange on shit like reality TV, but never in real life. But Piper hadn't burdened him with any of it apart from taking Juno to house after house until he found one that he liked too.

Piper was a little too cautious about the place being easy for Juno to navigate, and that had been their second major fight, though this one hadn't come with the threat of breaking up. Juno just sulked, and Piper apologized for treating him like glass, and then they kissed and made up.

Then Piper took a pill, and they fucked and made up. Which was a lot nicer.

The thought of it now made Juno smile as he gripped his cane tightly in his hand. The aluminum felt both heavy and light. He hadn't actually used it outside of his long lesson yet. He was still searching for the courage to be so damned seen when he went from one place to the next.

His reluctance was limiting him to only the places he was familiar with, though, and he knew that would have to give eventually. Especially if he was also going to meet his brother. The thought had his throat a little tight as the car slowed, and Juno tilted his eyes to the side, then looked out the window.

They were at the house. And Piper's car was in the driveway, which meant he was done at the contractor's office. The construction trucks weren't there, so Juno knew he'd at least get a little peace and quiet for a bit. He didn't mind them much. They were setting utility lines and pouring a foundation for the tiny house, and the rest was going to come almost like a giant pop-up book. At least, that's what it had looked like on the website.

He was getting anxious to get back into the kitchen, even if he still hadn't signed up for his vocational rehab classes. His insurance covered a few of those lessons—and the woman he spoke to on the phone said that there was an instructor who could help him with his current job skills, so he didn't even need to consider switching careers.

It was one more on the list of shit to do.

But he wasn't going to worry about that today. Oliver and Miles were coming to visit, and he had to get over this hurdle first. He wasn't really worried about what they were going to say when he told them. Mostly, he was dreading the disappointment in their voices from how long he'd kept it a secret.

"Thanks, man," Juno said as he climbed out of the car. He waited a beat to see if the driver needed anything, but the guy stayed silent, so he turned toward the house.

It was a quaint little thing—five steps up to the front door, and it sat above a crawlspace, which he refused to even acknowledge because they always creeped him out. There were four bedrooms—two on the ground floor and two up top. It had bay windows with benches, a large, wide kitchen that he could move about in without any real trouble, and hardwood floors so he didn't trip over much—unless Piper forgot to put away his shoes.

Which he did, but only every now and again. Juno was much worse about it.

The front yard had a small white fence, which sat stark against their very green lawn full of clover, and Juno loved it because he could always see it. He touched the tops of the pointed pickets, counting them off as he came to the gate.

"…six, seven, eight." His fingers found the latch, and it opened to the walkway that led to the door. It was a light cement, so he could see it okay, but instead of walking forward, he opened his cane instead.

He'd gone with a metal tip after testing them all out. He liked the way it felt best and the way it sounded. He slid the cane from side to side, feeling the edges where walkway met grass, and he made his way to the door.

And it was only then, as he climbed the steps, that he realized the door was open.

And that Oliver was standing there. Juno couldn't see his face, really, not without straining, but he could see his slender waist, and the leggings he always wore whenever he wasn't at work, and the flowing white shirt.

And by God, he could feel the tension in the air.

"I fucking knew it."

Juno sagged a little over his cane. It wasn't the response he'd been expecting, but it was probably the best one he could have hoped for. "Are you pissed?"

Oliver sighed loudly, and then his feet disappeared from Juno's sight. "I mean, no. Well, a little. Okay, fine, twist my arm. I fucking knew it, and you lied to my face about there being nothing wrong. I'm pissed."

Juno walked inside and closed the door behind him. It was dim, making it even harder to see, but he turned and put his cane on the little hook Piper had set up for him, then turned back to try and find where Oliver was standing.

Eventually, his gaze found Oliver's toes. His nails were painted, but he couldn't really make out the color of them. That was one thing he probably wasn't ever getting back. He had a feeling, though, that his toes were a sparkly blue.

"How bad is it?" Oliver demanded.

Juno tugged at one of his curls and shrugged, lifting his gaze up so he could see as much of Oliver as was possible. He looked the same—maybe a little tired, but maybe he was also projecting. "According to my doctor today, it probably won't get worse than this. I have almost no central vision. My periphery on my left side sucks, but the right side isn't bad. I didn't actually need the cane coming up the driveway. I was just…feeling it out. It's new."

He could see one of Oliver's arms as it flopped to his side, then lifted. He knew what was coming next. Oliver's fingers curled into his front and dragged him into a hug. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me, you stubborn asshole."

Juno squeezed his eyes shut as he let himself bask in the warmth of his best friend. "Because it really fucking sucked. It started the week before your wedding, and I knew it was something bad. I got tests done, and they told me there's no treatment and no cure. It just is. It's genetic."

Oliver stepped back and held him by the shoulders. He felt an immediate, sharp pulse of grief that he couldn't see Oliver's face because he missed him so damn much. But he was working with his therapist on how to cope when those moments became overwhelming.

"Is that why you did that DNA shit?"

Juno nodded. "One of the reasons." Then he realized he hadn't heard anyone else. "Is Miles here?"

"Your boyfriend kidnapped him and took him to the store," Oliver said with a laugh. "He really wanted to drive Victor's Jag."

"Of course he did," Juno said. He rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help his grin as he pushed past Oliver and moved to the living room. "Victor's with him, right?"

"Mm. Cosimo's here too, but he's visiting his cousin or something, so he's not staying with us until we hit the road for Connecticut. Piper suggested we carpool so they can fight over who drives."

"Well," Juno said flatly as he kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, "at least I don't have a dog in that fight."

"I…fuck. Does that suck? Feels like that sucks." Oliver dropped to the couch and twisted, shoving his feet into Juno's lap the way he always did. It was automatic to take them and rub at the arches of his feet. He had a sudden and profound memory of doing that when Oliver was eleven and crying because he was getting foot cramps.

God, how different their lives were now.

"It does suck. A lot of this sucks big, gross, sweaty ass," Juno admitted. He laid his head back and closed his eyes. Sometimes it was easier that way—to give his brain a break from trying to fill in all the holes that were there now. He hadn't developed hallucinations that a lot of people did—his doctor told him in no uncertain terms that he was very lucky and to not panic if they did start up. But so far, it was just nothingness. "I sold my car and got some cash out of it, which was nice, but I miss it. I hate taking Ubers. And I hate the bus."

"You have a whole entire boyfriend who is retired," Oliver said, utterly indignant. "Is he refusing to give you rides?"

Juno snorted as he dug his thumbs into the ball of Oliver's foot. "No. He gets annoyed with me when I won't let him. But I need to do it myself. Not all of it, you know? But some of it."

"I…yeah. I get that," Oliver said quietly. He paused for a beat, then said, "Oh my God, you and Miles are totally a joke."

Juno blinked his eyes open. "I'm sorry, what ?"

"You know, a blind man and a deaf man walk into a bar?"

Juno smacked him for that one. "Is this what's going to happen to me now that I'm dating an older guy? I start telling shitty dad jokes?"

Oliver laughed happily. "It might. And it feels amazing."

Juno was hard-pressed to argue. He loved Piper and all the life, experience, and even baggage that came with him. He could close his eyes and see a future—years from now when they were both old enough that the decade and a half separating them no longer mattered. He could picture them on their porch at night, curled together on a porch swing, Piper describing the way the fireflies looked as they danced across the yard.

It wasn't the worst thing.

"Yeah. That's the look," Oliver said.

Juno said nothing, but he couldn't help his smile.

Miles was less annoyed with him. At least, as far as Juno could tell, though he'd always been the quieter one. But that was what always made him more unpredictable. Everyone underestimated him—even Oliver and Juno from time to time.

But when he came inside, Oliver jumped up from the couch and shouted, "I was fucking right! He can't see!"

Miles sat next to him and held his hand first and then hugged him for so long Juno got a little twitchy. He pulled back and tilted his head so he could really look at Miles, and God, he looked even better than the last time Juno had seen him.

"You knew this was happening. When you came to see me a few months ago?—"

"I knew." Juno stared at Miles's shining new processor on his head. It was sleek and black, and it had a little decorative cuff on the earpiece that he knew Emmett had bought him. It gave Miles flair that he usually didn't wear, especially when it came to his CIs. But it did something to Juno's insides, knowing he was embracing it instead of just living with it.

It was partly why he wanted a fancy, sparkly cane once he found the courage to use it all the time.

Oliver scoffed at Miles's lack of reaction and excused himself to the kitchen, where Piper and Victor were cooking, and Miles took the opportunity to move a little closer—almost like he'd been afraid to impose himself before.

Juno just sighed and pulled him close until they were cuddling.

"Are you okay?" Miles asked.

Juno shrugged. "Some days, I'm good. Some days, I'm less good. Today has been pretty amazing. I missed you a lot."

"Why didn't you say something before? Did you think I wouldn't get it?"

"I was in denial—but also not. It's…it was weird. It's hard to explain in words," Juno confessed. "When Piper asked me what was wrong, I told him because he was pretty much a stranger at the time, and it felt safe. I know that's a shitty thing to say."

Miles just laughed. "It really isn't. It's weird, but it's actually harder to be vulnerable with Emmett and Cosimo now that we're, you know, official." Juno could see Miles's fingers twisting around each other—his old nervous habit. "They make me feel brave. Like, I'm learning sign language finally. Emmett's been editing my work and giving me critique. Cosimo feeds me oranges once a day because he's convinced that if he doesn't, I'm going to get scurvy. And every time I have a bad day, I almost don't want to tell them because it's too real, and they're so invested in me."

Juno burst into laughter. "Babe. You were kind of bad at taking care of yourself. Can you blame them?"

Miles laughed with him. "Yeah, I was. And it's worse because they knew I was putting up with you-know-who?—"

"Mm," Juno said darkly. Miles's ex, who happened to be Emmett and Cosimo's daughter. It was a whole thing that Juno still wasn't over.

"We don't talk about her much. She calls sometimes to whine at them about needing money."

"Have they given in?" Juno couldn't help but ask.

"I don't know. I don't want to know," Miles said. "At some point, I'll have to see her again. Something will crack, and they'll give because she's their daughter, and now that I'm a part of this unit, I'll have to be involved at least a little."

Juno had a feeling both of Miles's lovers would go out of their way to shield him—daughter or not. He didn't have the full story about what happened still with Miles and his breakup with Selene. He knew that Miles had been basically saved from the streets by her dads. And over a week, he'd fallen in love with them both.

But Juno hadn't wanted to ask much more than that. It seemed too personal. All he knew was what he'd seen and heard. That two men who loved each other also loved Miles for everything he was worth. Juno would have been jealous, but he had that now.

Piper held his heart in his hands, and for the first time, Juno wasn't afraid of it being crushed.

"You love him, right?" Miles asked.

Juno blinked, startled by the question. "Yeah. I do."

"And he's not weird about your eyes?"

Juno rubbed at his temple. "He can get a little overprotective sometimes. We've fought about it, but he's also building me a bakery in the backyard so I don't have to keep paying mall rent, and he gave me my own room, even though I literally never sleep there."

Miles laughed quietly. "I have my own space too. It's a pool house."

"You didn't show me your own fucking pool house when I came to visit," Juno accused.

"Yeah. Uh…it's. Well."

Oh. It was probably a kink thing. Juno wished he hadn't asked. He was all for Miles getting everything he needed from his lovers, but he didn't want to know details. They were family. It was too weird.

"Forget I asked," Juno said. He stretched his legs in front of him, then stood up and extended his hand. Miles took it after a second and used Juno to haul himself up. "Guide me to the kitchen."

"Do you really need that?"

Juno laughed and gave him a small shove. "No. But it's good practice for when I'm in a strange place and don't want to fall on my face. I'm trying to learn how to be brave, you know? With people watching."

"Yeah," Miles said, almost a whisper. Because he did know. More than anyone. "Come on. Let's go be bullies and make Victor tell us embarrassing stories about Oliver on their honeymoon."

"Ooh," Juno said with a grin. "My favorite kind of bullying."