Work Text:
✴
It was a Saturday, and Adam loved Saturdays. He didn’t have work, and Nigel organized his schedule so that he didn’t either. They had the whole day to spend in each other's arms, once a week, every week.
Nigel was cutting fruit in the kitchen when Adam appeared from their bedroom, his morning routine completed with the exception of changing out of pajamas. He watched the sun come in from the blinds, striking Nigel’s bare chest. He noted the delicate hold his slender fingers had around the knife.
It was dreamy to see Nigel like this– comfortable and homely. All of the violence he endured (and caused) in Romania was clearly behind him. He settled into Adam’s life seamlessly as if he had always belonged there, and Adam loved every second of it.
“Apple?” Nigel asked, noticing Adam enter the room. His cheeks were full of stolen apple slices.
Adam smiled, crossing over to him. He was going to make a chipmunk comparison that was guaranteed to make Nigel laugh, but the phone suddenly started to ring. “I’ll have one in a second.”
“Sure thing, star.” Nigel said, taking another slice.
“Hello?” Adam answered. On the other end, an older Italian woman, in a very drawn out way, asked for a ‘Mister Banyai’. Adam turned back to Nigel. “It’s for you, Ni. Work call.”
Nigel groaned. “You can’t be fucking serious.”
He walked over, plucking the phone from Adam’s hands, before returning to the fruit. Adam followed behind him, taking a seat on a kitchen stool.
Nigel pressed the phone between his ear and his shoulder. He sighed. “Hello? You’re speaking to him.”
He cut Adam a slice, placing it on the tip of the knife. Adam leaned forward, taking the slice with his teeth. Nigel smiled at him. “I’m doing well, yes.”
Adam chewed, finding the apple to taste like garlic. His nose scrunched up in disgust. “I thought I told you to rinse the knives before using them for something else.”
Nigel gave him a toothy grin, shrugging. ‘Sorry, gorgeous,’ he mouthed. He then continued on the phone: “Yeah, he’s good too. Sitting right in front of me, actually.”
Adam raised his eyebrows, pointing to himself. ‘Me?’ he mouthed. Nigel winked at him. He placed another apple slice on the knife for Adam, offering it to him. Adam violently shook his head to refuse, causing Nigel to laugh a little. He took the apple for himself, walking away with the phone. Adam watched him pace, tapping his fingers on his thigh. Nigel was having a conversation about pricing and sign design that he couldn’t follow. It made him nervous. Would someone make Nigel go into work today? The idea of losing his Saturday to someone who didn’t understand the idea of a schedule angered him.
Nigel stopped in his pacing for a moment, turning to Adam. He kept the phone at a distance from his ear. “I peeled some oranges too. Take some.”
When Adam didn’t immediately head for the fruit bowl he said, “I used my hands. Don’t worry, it’ll taste normal.”
Adam furrowed his brow, but eventually got up to take some pieces from the bowl. He ate them as Nigel ended the call.
“Who was that?” Adam asked, his mouth full.
“Just a client from Brooklyn.” Nigel said, putting the phone back on the dock. He walked over to Adam, wrapping his hands around his waist. He pressed kisses to his temple.
Adam peeled pith from another orange slice. “What did they ask about?”
“She was asking how long it would take me to fix up her sign.” Nigel sighed, resting his head on Adam’s. He pulled him closer, smelling his hair. “You know what’s starting to bother me? Nobody has any fucking paitence anymore. She's a great lady, though. Fucking chatty, but great. ”
Adam was silent for a second, before asking, “Did she ask about me?”
“Yeah.” Nigel shrugged, his shoulders moving heavily against Adam’s back. Adam opened his mouth, but Nigel anticipated what he would ask next. “Becuase I talk about you.”
Adam felt warmth blooming in his chest. He looked down at the floor, smiling sheepishly. “Why?”
Nigel tightened his grip with a laugh. The sound rumbled around Adam, shook him to his core. He wanted to inject it into his veins. “So many damn questions with you.”
They were silent for a moment. Nigel leaned his head down onto Adam’s shoulders and looked into his eyes. “I just can’t help it, star. That’s why.”
✴✴
Summer was always difficult for Adam. It was too hot to wear comfortable sweaters, sweat glued his hair to his forehead, and the city was seemingly louder than usual. All he wanted was to lay flat on his bed with the air conditioning blasting. But he was dating Nigel. And Nigel loved the summer.
Block parties called to him, like a moth to a flame. He was invited to a lot of them, either by people he met at work or other artists from around the city. Though Adam was a little confused as to why Nigel would go to any of these things, since Nigel didn’t consider half of those people his actual friends.
When he posed this question to him, Nigel said: “Music. Drinking. Cheap food. It’s one of the few fucking miracles this place can pull off.”
Adam didn’t like the idea of Nigel going out and partying neighborhoods away. What if he got hurt? Or made the outlandish decision to run off with someone else. Adam spent some summer weeks becoming increasingly anxious. He was so tightly wound that one evening, he and Nigel got into an argument.
“I don’t understand why you’re being like this,” Nigel huffed. “It’s in Harlem, Adam. It’s not like I’m going back to fucking Romania.”
“I never said that!” Adam had his arms crossed, his fingers digging into his flesh. “I just said that I don’t like when you go out so far. That applies to the other times you’ve done it, not this time.”
Nigel ruffled his hair, exasperated. “Why didn’t you tell me that when I went to Crown Heights last week?”
“Because I wasn’t— I didn’t,” Adam groaned. Why was it so hard to find the right words? It’s not that he didn’t care last week. He definitely did. He just didn’t want to be a bad boyfriend. He didn’t want Nigel to leave him.
Without thinking, Adam began pulling at his hair. He wasn’t often at a loss for words. In fact, he almost never was. It was frustrating.
“Shh, hey, it’s okay,” Nigel came over to comfort him, carefully untangling Adam’s fingers from his hair. He kissed his knuckles. “I won’t go. If you need me here, I’m here.”
“No,” Adam sighed, pulling Nigel into an embrace. He held him tight. “What if…I just go with you?”
“You sure?” Nigel asked, rubbing Adam’s back. “It’ll be loud.”
“Yes,” Adam said. Of course it would be loud. And hot. And crowded. But at least he would have his Nigel. It was a good enough trade. “I’m sure. Why didn’t we think of this sooner?”
“I’m not sure.” Nigel said with a laugh.
With that, they headed towards Harlem, arriving via subway. Adam wore his noise cancelling headphones, dulling the sound as they ascended the steps of the subway station.
The block was packed. People dancing, drinking and bumping shoulders. Adam uncomfortably shifted through the crowd, gripping Nigel’s hand so that he didn’t lose him. They walked a little further before stopping in front of a food stall.
“This is all I came for, then we can go.” Nigel said. “You hungry?”
Adam shook his head. “No.”
A man in an apron came forward with a smile. “Mr. Banyai, oh my goodness it is so good to see you. I wanted to thank you for the work you did. Y’know people come up to the shop and tell me how good the wall look every day, so in all honesty, thank you.”
“Jus’ give the man his fish, daddy.” a voice called from the back.
“Oh, right, the rest of your payment!” The man said, clasping his hands. He then turned around.
“Take the front for me, Christine.” He went to the back, allowing a teenage girl to take his place.
“Hi, Mr. Banyai.” Christine said, before gasping dramatically. Adam looked around. Should he be concerned?
“Is this Adam?” She practically screeched, pointing an acrylic nail at Adam’s chest.
Nigel wrapped his arm around Adam’s shoulder, bringing him close. He grinned. “Star, this is Christine. She’s the one who hired me for Mr. Blake’s store.”
“Hi!” Christine beamed. “It’s so good to finally meet you. I know so much about you!”
Adam looked away. “How much?”
“Well, you’re real smart, you do astro-whatever at the planetarium. Your favorite planet from our solar system is Jupiter. You were born and raised in Manhattan. And Mr. Banyai say you’re the most precious creature to ever-”
“Christine! Mi bring half snapper?” Mr. Blake called.
Christine smacked her lips. “Half a fish? Daddy, you see two man there an’ you say half a fish?”
“Ah,” Mr. Blake looked at Adam from where he was frying the fish. “So sorry. Whole fish, then. If I ever lose my head, Christine’ll be the one to find it.”
“I don’t eat fish.” Adam said, mostly to Nigel.
“I know,” said Nigel, with a sharp smile. “I do, though.”
“You guys are so cute!” Christine squealed. She then looked at Nigel, placing a hand in front of her mouth so that Adam couldn’t read her lips. “And he is just everything.”
Adam shifted. “Why are you pretending to whisper? I can still hear you.”
“Okay, one whole snapper for the both of you.” said Mr. Blake. He handed Nigel the bag with both takeout boxes. “And that completes your payment, Mr. Banyai.”
“It smells incredible.” Nigel took the bag, feeling its weight. Both boxes were clearly loaded with fish and vegetables. “God fucking bless you.”
Mr. Blake laughed, clapping with joy. “Man! I really like this guy. How many murals can we cover the store with, Christy?”
“Clearly we can hardly afford to pay for one,” sighed Christine. She then turned her attention back to Nigel. “It was so good to see you again, Mr. Banyai! And to meet you too, Adam.”
“Always a pleasure, Christine.” Nigel said with a wink.
“Thank you,” was all Adam could muster. She said his name with a tone he couldn’t understand, and he really didn’t like when people talked about him as if he wasn’t there.
They started to walk back to the subway station when Adam said, “What is your relationship with Christine and why was she talking about me like that?”
“When I worked on the side of her dad’s store, she talked a lot. She told me about the girlfriend she isn’t supposed to have, and I told her all about you.” Nigel concluded, swinging the takeout bag over his shoulder.
“Oh.” Adam nodded. Maybe he should start keeping track of the way Nigel talked about him to others. Personally, he could go on and on about Nigel if someone asked, but no one did. It seemed as if Nigel was able to do that for him without command. Like boasting about Adam was second nature.
Adam looked at the bag, frowning. “You’re going to have to eat that on the fire escape. It smells strong.”
“No problem, gorgeous.” Nigel reached down and held Adam’s hand as they descended into the station. “It’ll be so fucking worth it.”
✴✴✴
The note had been placed on the fridge for two weeks now, right next to the chore list- muncă casnică and a photo of Adam and his father- tata, eu. Even still, Adam stood with the fridge door open, reading it over again.
Doctor’s appointment. 12:30pm. September 23rd. Don’t forget.
-Mereu a ta, Ni
That meant no Nigel at lunch today. Which meant he had to walk to Central Park alone. Sit down and eat, also alone. Adam finally reached into the fridge and pulled out the milk- lapta-- okay, maybe he was going a bit overboard with the Romanian sticky notes. But who could say they weren’t working? He was learning the language, after all. And Nigel liked it when he was able to understand him, especially if he forgot a word in English.
Adam sighed mournfully. No Nigel at lunch. That hadn’t happened in 2 whole years. This was his fault though, really. He practically had to beg Nigel to start having a yearly physical. The both of them just wished there were better appointment times.
As he walked to the deli to pick up his daily lunch, he attempted to settle himself. Maybe he would see Mahmoud. He was always so understanding of Adam, even as an awkward teenager. And he was kind to his father too, especially in the days of his illness.
Mahmoud was not behind the deli counter, though. In his place, there was a younger man who shared his features. Adam assumed it was his son. He tried not to mull over what could’ve possibly happened to Mahmoud as he stepped forward.
“Can I have a ham and swiss, but uh, toast the bread separately, please. And add banana peppers.” Adam said. He grabbed a bag of plain chips from the shelf. The sooner he got out of this deli, the better.
“That’s a real unique order,” said the man behind the counter.
Adam just looked at him. Small talk wasn’t particularly common, especially not in a place like this. Most people just got what they needed and went about their business. The man began to squirm under Adam’s stare.
“It’s not like a bad thing or anything, There’s just this guy, y’know, he gets the same order everyday.” The poor young man was clearly about to go into a much needed customer service rant. Adam awkwardly stood there and let him.
“And one time, I don’t even know what I did for real, but I had to have fucked up his order ‘cause he came in the next day hot. Cussing me out talking ‘bout ‘You do that shit again, I’mma fuck you up da-da-da-da-da.’ and I’m like ‘Bro you gotta relax it’s 11 in the fucking morning, there is no way you tryna run shit over a sandwhich right now.’ but he was! He really fuckin’ was and after I said that he got even more pissed. I thought he was gonna pull a gun on me or some shit ‘cause he was like tall,”
The young man then raised his hand over his head, mimicking Nigel’s exact height. Adam opened his mouth to say something, but the man continued.
“And big as hell. Then he started on about how my fuck up– yes he said my fuck up ruined his boy’s day. And I’m like, how the fuck a sandwhich ruin your boy’s day? He’s a grown ass man and it’s a fuckin’ sandwhich! Who the fuck sends their friend to cuss someone out over nothing? Like damn. Does he not have shit else to worry about?”
Adam watched the man bag up his order with a huff. There was a period of silence as he rang up the total. Then, Adam said, “You forgot banana peppers on the sandwich.”
“I mean maybe.” The man said, glancing at the chips in Adam’s hand. “It’s $4.60.”
“No, you did. I remember it.” Adam dug cash out from his wallet. He handed $5 to the cashier, who took it with a raised eyebrow. “My boyfriend Nigel gets my lunch from here every day. I didn’t tell him to say anything.”
The man looked at Adam. Adam looked at the bag and change in his hand. Maybe he should apologise for Nigel’s actions, though he didn’t want to. The imperfect sandwich did ruin his day. Adam took the bag and nodded, turning on his heels to leave.
“Aye man, I’m sorry for actin’ out like that,” said the cashier, embarrassed. Adam stopped and turned his head slightly to look at him. “...And for fucking up your order last time.”
Adam’s eyes scanned him, avoiding his face. He put his hands up in surrender, smiling. “Won’t happen again. Your uh, man made sure of that.”
“Thank you.” Adam said. He gave him a small, lopsided smile in return, then went for the door. He opened it, a small bell chiming behind him.
“Have a good one.” called the man behind the counter.
“You too.”
✴✴✴✴
Tourist season was picking up again, with Rockefeller Center all aglow. That meant a lot more work for Adam, which he didn’t mind this time of year. Christmas used to be stressful. He didn’t like spending time guessing what his extended family wanted, and later being unable to know if they truly liked the gift or not on the basis of ‘being polite’. Adam found it more polite to tell someone whether you liked their gift or not, so that they could return it and get something better.
He never had to guess with Nigel, though. He told him what he wanted every year. This year, he wanted a fancy(ish) watch from some jeweler in lower Manhattan. So, Adam didn’t mind working a little harder, in case he went over budget.
However, he was surprised to get a tour request specifically for him. Tourists rarely, if ever, used that function. But after lunch one day, a Californian mother of two sought him out.
Adam didn’t like giving tours to children. They were loud, disruptive and often veered too far off course. School trips to the planetarium were a nightmare for him. But somehow, these two children were attentive, and their mother was kind.
“You are just so darling!” She beamed, at the end of the tour. “I want my boys to grow up to be just as smart as you.”
“Thank you.” Adam said sheepishly. “They asked good questions, it was very helpful.”
“Oh, please.” The older woman swiped her hands in the air, as if to wipe away the praise. “I feel like I should come back anytime they ask about space. I completely get why that man said I should request you.”
Adam opened his mouth to repeat his end-of-the-tour script before stopping dead in his tracks. “Man? What man?”
“There was a man smoking outside who recommended you! Nicest New Yorker I’ve met so far, I’m telling you.” She said, watching her kids run off into the gift shop. Adam held down a wince.
She continued, “He looked a little mean at first, of course. But I asked him if I was in the right place and he brightened up, just like that. Then he said that if I was getting a tour, I should choose you, Adam Raki, right? And I didn’t even have to ask why because he wouldn’t stop gushing about you. I was thinking like, geez, he might be in love with the guy. But I get why, you are such a doll.”
“Um. Thank you.” Adam said, his eyebrows pulling together.
Later that evening, Nigel greeted him as he shed his coat at the door.
“How was work, lebădă mea?” He asked, his arms stretched open, face littered with anticipation. Adam took off his shoes before collapsing into Nigel, burying his face into his chest.
“It was good,” Adam’s voice was muffled in the cotton of Nigel’s shirt. Nigel hummed, wrapping his arms around him. Adam breathed him in.
They moved like inseparable magnets towards the couch, where Nigel fell blindly into the cushions with a grunt. They were quiet for a while. Nigel pet back Adam’s curls with one hand, and allowed him to trace the calluses on the other. Adam looked up at him for a few seconds, before returning to the calluses.
“What?” Nigel asked.
“I can get good reviews on my own.” Adam murmured.
Nigel grinned. “That client made her own opinion. I just pushed her in the right direction.”
✴✴✴✴✴
Adam stood waiting at the door. He rubbed his palms on his thighs and rocked. Behind him, minutes ticked by on the clock. Then came the sound of keys unlocking the front door.
“Hi star,” Nigel said. For some reason, he was just as nervous as Adam was.
Adam placed a kiss onto his cheek. “Hi Nigel.”
He then turned his attention to the other man in the hallway, focusing on the wallpaper behind him, rather than his face. He was shorter than Adam thought he would be, wearing a dark overcoat and a scowl that Nigel said was always there.
“Salut, Darko. Te rog intră.” Adam said tensely. His eyes flickered over to Nigel, who was giving him a thumbs-up. Darko was quiet. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No! No, that was good. I wasn’t fuckin’ expecting it. Salut!” Darko said, trying his best to smile. He pulled a fancy brown bottle from a plastic bag. “Am adus bere.”
“Mulțumesc.” Adam nodded, then repeated, “Te rog intră.”
He stepped to the side, allowing Nigel and Darko to enter. They removed their shoes and coats, following Adam to the kitchen.
“You speak Romanian better than Nigel, I’d say.” Darko said, leaning against the kitchen island. Adam accepted the compliment with a smile. Nigel huffed. “Half the time I talk to him, he sounds like a fucking yank, the guy.”
Before Nigel could defend himself, Darko gestured wildly at the empty kitchen island. “No papanași?”
“Fuck,” Nigel sighed, throwing his head back. “I forgot.”
“You forgot?” Darko echoed. “I fly all this fucking way and you forget my papanași?”
“What are you, a child? Can’t you go without your sweets for one goddamn night?” Nigel barked back. If it weren’t for his smile, Adam would think they were actually arguing.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? No.” Darko scoffed. “We’ve known each other since you were a skinny fucking twig-”
“We were both skinny twigs.” Nigel interjected, looking between Darko and Adam.
“And ever since then you have known that I like papanași with my beer. When haven’t I?” Nigel could only shrug in response. Darko continued, “That’s my point. Now go get my papanași, dick.”
Nigel winced. It was hard to tell an old friend no. “I’ll be back, Adam.”
Adam’s face fell. He was having a good time until Nigel decided to up and leave him. He and Darko hardly knew each other. In fact, they had hardly ever spoken. Adam would see him on the occasion that he and Nigel were on a video call. They would wave politely, and that was all. This was not that at all.
Nigel assured that he would be back soon before shutting the door. Adam tensed, feeling Darko’s eyes on him.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Darko said, spinning the cold beer bottle in his hands. “But I’m not here to tell you not to fuck it up.”
Adam turned, looking at the side of his face. Darko continued, “I’m just saying that I’m rooting for you both. If anyone fucks up here, it’s Nigel. God knows how many times he’s fucked up, right?”
Adam was silent. Darko sighed, looking down at the kitchen island. “You’re good to him. You’re good for him. Shit, everyone knows. I can’t ever get him to shut the fuck up about you. So, I uh, think he will be good to you too.”
“He has been good to me,” Adam said, evenly. He wouldn’t tolerate anyone thinking Nigel treated him poorly. “And he still is.”
“Well, he will be better to you, I mean. Here shortly.” Darko looked away, clearing his throat. Adam stared at the back of his head, confused.
At that moment, Nigel returned to the apartment, arms full of grocery bags. “Sorry, I didn’t want to be gone for long, so...”
“No,” Darko exhaled through his nose, looking at the bags. “No, no, no. You are so fucking shit at baking, there’s no way I’m gonna eat that.”
Nigel placed the groceries on the kitchen counter. “What if Adam helped me?”
“What?” Darko and Adam asked.
Nigel shrugged, grinning. “Yeah, it would be a good way to teach Romanian kitchen words and shit. Y’know hands on.”
Darko and Adam silently stared at Nigel. Then, Darko began rolling up his sleeves. “I can’t have you two bake for me. Mama didn’t raise a bad houseguest.”
He went around to help Nigel unpack the groceries. “And I will also never trust you in a kitchen. I don’t know how Adam bears it.”
“Well, most of my food comes from the freezer.” Adam said, going to wash his hands. “And Nigel gets takeout.”
Darko laughed, a sharp husky thing. “You guys are perfect. Really. Absolutely fucking perfect.”
✴✴✴✴✴ + ✴
“Adam,” Kendra, another tour guide, interjected. It was a slow day, and a group of Adam’s coworkers stood by the planetarium’s telescope. He didn’t mind the conversation, as topics rarely ever veered far from work or astronomy. “Since when do you wear jewelry?"
Adam took a second to process her question. He looked down on the ring on his finger, which he twirled around absently. “Oh! My fiancé Nigel gave this to me.”
The room went quiet for a moment before Kendra said, “Fiancé? I didn’t know you were dating anyone.”
Adam moved to tap his fingers on his thigh. The feeling of inadequacy came creeping in. Clearly it was normal among coworkers to talk about their significant others more often than he had. “I didn’t think anyone would want to know. It’s not work related.”
“Dude,” said Adrian. “I talk about my pets all the time. It’s literally fine. It’s not like someone’s gonna strike you down for it.”
“I didn’t think that would be the consequence.” Adam said. The room went quiet again, expectant.
“Well, tell us about him.” Stephanie beamed. “How did the proposal go? What’s he like? What does he do?”
Adam blinked a few times, licking his lips. This felt like the first time someone asked him about stars. There was so much to say, he hardly knew where to begin.
“Well, he’s– he– his name is Nigel and he’s an artist. He does street art and signage around the city. He grew up in a village on the outskirts of Bucharest, which is in Romania, and then he moved here four years ago. He lived in Queens when we first met but now he lives with me! I know that perfect is impossible, but I think he comes pretty close.”
“Awwww,” cooed the women.
“Queens? You got pictures of his work?” asked Adrian.
“Yes,” Adam said, a little loudly. He fumbled around for his phone, finding it, then opening a folder of photos titled ‘Nigel Things’. He swiped through it, giving anecdotes about each work before a sharp whistle interrupted him. Adam jumped.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” said Chris. He was leaning over Adam’s shoulder now, along with everyone else. He hardly noticed the amount of crowding until now. The close proximity made his skin start to itch.
“It’s okay.” Adam inched away.
“I don’t know what we’re talking about, but I’ve seen that before. Walk past it every morning with my dog. Pretty cool looking.” Chris nodded.
“We’re talking about Adam’s dashingly artistic fiance,” Stephanie grinned.
Chris shrugged. “Okay, well, I need someone to get on info desk for me while I take a call.”
“I gotcha.” Adrian said, absently. He was still looking down at Adam’s phone.
Adam swiped to another photo, this one showing Nigel’s broad back as he faced the wall he was painting. Stephanie gasped. “Is that him?”
“Oh, yes,” Adam blushed. “Whenver he has to work later than usual I go to see him. And then afterwards I get to pick the paint from his hands. It’s the best.”
Stephanie had his phone in her hands now, but he didn’t mind. He was imagining the satisfying feeling of peeling up dry paint in a perfect sheet.
“Do you have more pictures of him?” Kendra asked over the noise of Stephanie and Adrian discussing the dachshund pattern on Nigel’s shirt.
“Yes, they’re just,” Adam reached over, clicking through a few things before bringing up another folder. The first image was of he and Nigel arm in arm under an evergreen, the Milky Way glowing behind them. “Right here.”
“Oh my gosh,” Stephanie cooed. “How sweet.”
“Adrian, desk.” Chris said, pushing him out of the way and turning to Stephanie. “Let me see.”
“Ouch.” Adrian frowned. He walked towards the information desk, sulking. All that talk about Adam Raki’s fiancé and he couldn’t even see his face. Lame. As the voices of his coworkers faded, he could hear Adam explaining when Nigel got his tattoos.
When he arrived at the information desk, someone was already there. Looking quite angry, too. Adrian took a breath in. “How can I help you?”
“Jesus, where the fuck is everybody? You’d think it’s a fucking ghost town around here.”
Adrian looked at the man in front of him, analyzing. He had a tattoo on his neck of a woman. Where has he seen that woman before? A movie? An advertisement? No. As he racked his brain for answers, Adrian noticed the man’s hair bounce at the nape of his neck. That shade was familiar too…
“Hello? Earth to,” The man squinted, looking at Adrian’s name tag. “Earth to fucking Adrian.”
“Sorry,” Adrian said. “What can I do for you?”
“I said I’m looking for Adam. Adam Raki? He meets me outside every single day at 12:45. It’s 12:50. He’s never late.”
“Adam?” Adrian said, the puzzle pieces sliding into place. He looked at the tattoo again. “Oh! The mural in Sunnyside! You! Adam!”
“What?” asked the man who Adrian knew to be Nigel.
“I’ve seen your work before. My grandma lives in Sunnyside.” Adrian smiled.
“Okay? Can you just,” Nigel sighed, frustrated. “Can you find Adam, please? I’m worried.”
“He’s just in the back, I'll get him for you.” Adrian said, before walking off, humming a tune. He seemed entirely unaware of the kind of damage Nigel could do, which would have been entertaining if Nigel hadn’t been so concerned. The longer he waited for Adrian to come back, the more anxiety built up in his chest. He reached for his cigarettes.
Then, Adam came into view and the spell was lifted. It was always like this. Adam acted as a breath of fresh air in Nigel’s world full of industrial pollution.
“I didn’t know how off schedule I was,” Adam said, confusion in his voice. He placed a routine kiss onto Nigel’s cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to apologise for, starling of mine.” Nigel smiled. “Can I ask what got you so off schedule?”
“I was just telling,” Adam looked around. It seemed that Adrian went to hang back with their coworkers a moment longer. Adam smiled, his hands fluttering at his side. “I was telling them about you.”
“Really?” Nigel smiled wide. It was a sight Adam always loved to see. “That explains the weird motherfucker at the desk.”
“Adrian’s strange, but he would never do that to his mother.” Adam said. Nigel laughed, its boom echoing in the empty lobby. Adam’s lips ticked up into a smile. “And you should be more gentle towards service workers, or else Mahmoud’s son won’t let you in the deli anymore.”
Nigel stopped laughing. “Who told you about that?”
“He did!” Adam laughed as Nigel opened the planetarium door for him, dramatically shaking his head.
“You two have fun at lunch.” Adrian called with a wink, having returned to the desk.
“We will.”