I'd Still Find You (Epilogue)
Epilogue: Many Moons Later
Adam was early.
Matilda was expecting him, though, and after a hug she led him to the back corner table, where she left him with Duke Ellington and a bottle of champagne on ice. Adam gazed at the two flutes waiting beside the bucket and was flooded with what had over the past year become a familiar but no less thrilling thought: I have a boyfriend.
Adam stretched, still working out the familiar kinks from hours spent on a plane. Kris had wanted to meet him at the airport as usual, but Adam had a feeling how that would go. They likely wouldn’t make it to the restaurant, and this was a date Adam wanted to keep.
He was early because he wanted to watch Kris walk in, just like he had that night twelve months ago. On that night, Adam had been worried Kris wouldn’t show. That he would be put off by the presence of Mount Ed by the door, or the stares and murmurs of the other customers at Sushi Blues.
But Kris hadn’t been. When he had walked in, his eyes found Adam right away, and it took the hostess a few attempts to get Kris’s attention. Adam would never forget Kris’s lopsided smile as he crossed the room, the way his cheeks were flushed even before he had a glass of wine, the way his fingers nervously played chords on the tablecloth.
The way Kris was the one to rise up on tiptoes and brush his lips against Adam’s in the parking lot, innocent to the photographer lurking in the shrubbery, and the way Kris had chased down the photographer and then somehow charmed him into deleting the shots.
Only Kris.
The year had not been without its challenges. Regaining Kris’s trust was the first and most important. There was a lot to adjust to, and Adam had been committed to taking things slow, to making sure that Kris was absolutely okay with what he was getting into. Taking things slow was new for Adam, who had followed his frustratingly sexless teenage years with a lengthy period of making up for lost time. Kris, though, was more than worth the wait. What could be more perfect than Kris undressing him at last, eyes hungry as they explored his every line and curve.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Adam had asked, as always, and Kris had said, “Wonderland.” Adam had to fist his hands in the sheets while Kris explored with his hands and then his mouth, seemingly content to taste and torture for all eternity until he finally said, “Please, Adam,” and Adam had rolled him over and taken him to places he’d never been before.
After that, the challenge was being apart, and this time there were oceans between them. The phone wasn’t anywhere near enough. Sometimes Adam was moody and anxious. He worried that Kris wasn’t safe. “Stay at my place tonight,” Adam sometimes pleaded, and he would sleep well only when Kris conceded and Adam knew he was secure at night in Adam’s house high on a hill, with a security system and a gate.
“Come with me,” Adam wanted to say, but Kris had his own career to attend to, especially since a video of him performing at an open mic had gone viral. Sure, it had started with Glamberts, but then the video had taken on a momentum of its own, and a couple of record labels had noticed. Adam had to content himself with the thought of Kris wrapped in Adam’s sheets at night, and with the occasional early flight that allowed him to join Kris there for a few blissful hours.
Adam had stopped kissing Tommy on stage, to the devastation of one faction of fans and the delight of another. Kris got an unlisted number and learned to smile for the cameras but ignore the questions. He slowly began to let go of his concerns about the money difference, although he wouldn’t speak to Adam for nearly two days after Cassidy let slip the cost of the jacket Adam had custom made for Kris. (“It’s really for me,” Adam had reasoned, “so I can look at you wearing it.”)
Kris had navigated red carpets and Brad’s parties. Adam had navigated Conway, Arkansas. Everyone survived.
The door opened and Kris came in, same lopsided smile, same flush on his cheeks, eyes only for Adam as Matilda escorted him to the table.
Kris settled wordlessly across from Adam, their hands automatically linking on the table. Kris tucked his thumbs underneath Adam’s palms, stroking hello after eleven days apart. Adam raised Kris’s hand to his lips and playfully nipped his knuckle.
Words they had plenty of while Adam was away. Now was the time for touch.
But it was, after all, a public place, and the waiter was opening the champagne. After a toast and a tingly kiss, Kris wondered, “How do you manage to look so beautiful after spending the day on a plane?”
“Benefit of travelling with Sutan.” He was pleased Kris had noticed. “You look pretty amazing yourself.” Kris was wearing the silky green shirt Adam had sent him, unbuttoned one button below standard Kris level.
They took their time sipping champagne and feeding each other bites of this and that. For once no one came to the table for a picture or an autograph, and Adam suspected Matilda had something to do with protecting their little corner from intruders.
Kris had made Adam promise not to buy him an anniversary present. It was a tradition with his parents, he said. They bought each other presents for Christmas and birthdays, and sometimes just because. But the rule was that no money could be spent on anniversary presents, and Kim had a box filled with sketches and love letters that she treasured above anything in her jewelry case.
“My gift for you,” Adam said, sliding a little box across the table. “It’s not anything I bought,” he reassured.
Kris opened it to find a key. Adam explained, “It’s the same as the one you already have. I just--it’s symbolic, I guess. I’m asking you to stay with me. When I’m there, and when I’m not there...I want you to live with me and not, you know, anywhere else. I want to have a home together with you.” Adam’s voice was unsteady as he asked, afraid of Kris’s answer, because Kris was proud and independent and cared entirely too much about the money-difference thing and --
“Yes.”
Adam’s eyes widened. “Yes?”
Kris grinned helplessly. “Yes. I want that too, so much. And let’s face it, you couldn’t even fit your belt collection in my closet, and as much as Matt likes you he didn’t sign up for--”
“Yes! Oh my god, we have to go home right now and celebrate!”
“Adam, wait!” Kris laughed. “I didn’t give you my presents yet.” He reached into his leather bag and pulled out some papers. “I wrote this for you.”
Sheet music. At the top of the first page, Kris had written, “For Adam, who was meant to be. With all my love, Kris.”
Adam only made it through the lyrics of the chorus before his eyes were too full to make out any more words.
“I love it, Kris. I love you. Baby, will you play it for me as soon as we get home?”
“Well, I will after I give you your other present.” Kris leaned forward and spoke in his deepest, sexiest voice. “It’s a new game I invented. I call it, ‘Find My New Wolf Tattoo.’”
It was an excruciating ride home, with Adam’s hands tracing Kris’s body through his clothes and trying to tease out a clue.
“Gotta play by the rules,” Kris said, which meant no clothes came off in the car even though Ed and the driver were up front and the partition was tightly closed. Adam began to suspect that they were circling the city, trying to drive him out of his mind. But they finally made it home, where Adam laid Kris out on his bed (their bed now) and unwrapped him like the gift that he was.
“Sleep now,” Kris murmured later. Adam closed his eyes to the moonlight that shimmered on the bed, dancing across the freckled hand that played sentry to the elegant wolf on Kris’s hip. Body curved softly around his love, Kris sang a lullaby.
If I was blindfolded
If my memory was erased
If every sign pointed to another place
I'd still find you
I will still find you
I'd still find you
If I was blindfolded