Page 82 of Sugar

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?”

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