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By the time he was seven, Jude Kinkade learned to never show off his piano skills to his father.
His mother had signed him up for lessons at five, when he’d been barely old enough to reach the keys, and way too short to reach the pedals. But he’d loved the way the encased wires vibrated through the air and his fingers when he plunked a tiny finger down on ivory.
It had been a big surprise. After two years, he’d learned to play something more than Chopsticks and less complex than Bach. Mommy told little Jude over and over how happy his father would be if the boy could show his talents. So the boy practiced over and over. Then the day arrived.
After he finished playing, he stood up, and bowed to his father. Oscar stood up and walked out of the room.
Later that night, Jude listened to the yelling down the hall. He didn’t know what words like “sniveling” and “pansy” meant, but they were obviously bad. And Jude was those. His father had thought he'd been playing t-ball instead.
He never touched a piano again.
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In a different world, eleven-year-old Gideon Jensen grabbed hold of his sister Laura and huddled in a corner. Leo was drunk again, and Carla was aiming for a fight. Shielding his sister, he tried to protect her from the vicious abuse flying around. And he did. No one touched his baby sister. But he couldn’t stop the words from hurting either of them.
When the screaming paused, Gideon slunk out the door with Laura in tow. They’d find someplace else to sleep that night. Someplace where monsters were less real.
Tucked back into a drainage pipe, eight year old Laura held onto her brother, shivering.
“’M cold, Giddy,” she mumbled, holding on tight. “’M scared.”
So Gideon held her tighter, and began to sing softly until she drifted off. Then he closed his eyes, thought of a movie he’d just seen in school – Romeo and Juliet – and let the melody of Tchaikovsky’s masterpiece lull him under as well.
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Zero loved these quiet moments on the court, when no one was around. He liked to slip in at odd hours, crank up some tunes, and practice. The genre didn’t matter. It could be blues. It could be country. He just let it play, and so would he. Just him, the floor, and the net. He had no idea that Jude liked to watch. In fact, Zero had no idea that Jude even knew about his private time on the court.
Back in college, Zero had opted to take dance. He’d told everyone it was because it helped his moves on the court. In reality, he liked to move to music. To sway to its harmony and thrum to its beat. When he practiced alone, he pumped it up loud, and danced to the rhythm of basketball and life.
Jude had been watching him practice for months now. At first, he’d only realized Zero was down in the arena when stopping by to pick up some files. His lover often disappeared early mornings to run or hit an all night gym. Watching from the shadows, Jude mused, You know what they say about assuming.
On what could almost be classified as a leap and mid-air pirouette, Zero came down with a slam dunk, and landed with a thud in time with the rhythm of the bass currently pounded through the arena.
Jude sucked in a shallow breath, grinning. He was getting turned on the more he watched the way Zero moved, and found that he couldn’t keep still any longer.
Stepping out of the shadows, Jude put himself where he’d eventually be in line of sight as the music drifted to heavy metal, and all hard edges. With basketball in hand, the blond twisted on the balls of his feet, spun, jumped mid-air, and shot a three pointer with a gymnast’s grace. And then stopped.
Zero hated being caught unaware and tensed at the sight of Jude standing only twenty feet away. Then he relaxed, because this was Jude… his friend, his lover, his confidant. The only man or woman to know his story. The only man or woman to love him for it.
They both walked forward, Jude’s gleam predatory while Zero swayed slightly to the heavy beat.
The collision of mouths and teeth and tongues left them both needy and panting, and Jude found himself suddenly turned with Zero behind him, both arms wrapped around his chest.
It seemed forever that they swayed their hips, grinding together, to the heavy beat of the music, before it began to fade and Zero rasped, “I need you.”
They were lucky they didn’t crash on their way home.
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She was gone and his world went silent.
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The first time they kissed, in the back of the limousine, Jude had been listening to the sound of Zero’s voice, feeling the thrum of it through him. Like a steady beat, both leaned forward, and the blond man’s hand on his leg, Jude heard the solid thump of his heart and kissed his client.
Zero tasted like a melody. Like a chorus. Like something forbidden.
It didn’t matter how many denials he… they… proclaimed, it was dark, foreboding, and sensual. Even if it took pain to get to a place where their chords no longer clashed, it was worth it. Because fuck if there wasn’t a hidden melody somewhere in there.
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The kiss on the court took them both by surprise. Zero hadn’t meant to do it. But Lucas’s words kept replaying in his head over and over and over, like someone kept punching the wrong note and playing sharp. He’s used to disappointment.
And Zero couldn’t take it anymore, because fuck it all, his Jude didn’t goddam deserve all this disappointment.
So he’d walked up to Jude, and lied. He didn’t tell him that Lucas intended to hurt him like that rat bastard fucker he was. Instead, Zero told Jude that Lucas wouldn’t be showing up because, “I told him not to.”
And the sound in the arena faded. He could no longer hear the voices of people talking. Instead, he heard, very lightly, something new. Airy. Graceful.
Grateful.
No, the kiss wasn’t planned. But the time was right, and it was pure, and it was accompanied by a tune he’d never heard before. He never wanted it to end when he felt Jude’s response pour through him. It had been years since he’d felt a beat so absolutely perfect.
Of course, it was too much to ask for the music to continue playing in his life while he was rushed out the back by Pete and Lionel, but hey… can’t win every small battle. Zero was just glad he was finally winning the war.
———————————
Zero loved the basketball court – almost as much as he loved the rhythm of a good blues band. In high school, it had been his coach who’d harnessed his energy. Coach Brandon, a closet geek, had handed Zero an iPod filled with tunes, and let him loose on the world with the words, “Because, son, I’d rather we harness your powers for the light instead of the dark side of the force.”
Had he gone home with it, he’d never have seen it again. Carla would’ve taken it claiming it was stolen (and then pawned it), or Leo would’ve kicked the crap out of him claiming it was stolen (and then pawned it). Or maybe both.
So he left it in coach’s office, locked in the top drawer, and showed up early each morning. It took a few months, but Coach had taken a skinny-ass white boy from the ‘hood and given him back a hint of color in his world.
The low horn of blues and well-aged jazz would thrum through the headphones as he closed his eyes and shot time and time again. For the first time in years, Zero felt like he was worth something. Worth more than Leo and Carla thought. Worth more than zero.
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“Fine. Have it your way. Danny’s waiting,” Jude said, his frustration rising up and blocking out the world. He tried to walk past, but Zero just stopped him.
“You don’t even know the guy,” Zero replied.
“Well, I’m about to,” Jude retorted, having had enough. When had his world gotten so quiet? The only sound was his heart splintering a little more from the wedge between him and the one person he really wanted to be with.
And everything burst to life when he stepped forward and Zero pulled him into a kiss. Rocking with him in a steady rhythm to hold them both together and upright. And God, it felt so right to Jude.
He could hear the faint strum of his acoustic guitar – the one that he’d played through high school and college when the noise of his life overwhelmed him. And then it plucked singularly, intricately, a tune so wound tight and aroused that it threatened to drown him if he didn’t do something. So he gave in, and let the strings wind him tight, sensitizing every nerve ending, until he was bowed and arching.
Every move that night was an orchestrated dance, circling and pulling to a rhythm so damn right, it left him breathless. The feel of Zero with him the entire way and in such tune made Jude writhe in merciless surrender, until they both lay sated and their waltz complete.
As Zero re-dressed and proclaimed himself emotionally unavailable, Jude knew the blond man would take the music with him.
And Jude was left alone once again in the silent dark.
———————————
Zero and Jude walked out onto the dance floor they’d had brought in just for this occasion. It still left them feeling a little giddy how perfect the day had gone.
“I love you,” Jude murmured, swaying with Gideon in his arms, his lips a breath away from his husband’s.
Just down the beach, as the sun had set over the Pacific ocean an hour ago they’d bound themselves together.
Jude had earnestly said, “I, Jude, promise to have and to hold you, Gideon, for better or for worse, through sickness and in health, and even if I really really really want to kick your ass, til death do us part.”
Once the chuckles had died down, Jude had shyly swayed closer, kissed Gideon’s cheek, and continued, “The singular best moment of my life was the day we met. Because it led to us. To here. To now. You are my family, and I promise you always will be. I will never leave you.”
To everyone’s surprise, Zero had had to clear his voice, overcome with emotion. He took a breath, and with a watery voice and eyes said, “I, Gideon, promise to have and to hold you, Jude, for better or for worse, through sickness and in health, and even if you end up having to kick my ass, til death do us part.”
Only a handful of people really knew Zero’s story. He still didn’t like sharing it, but he couldn’t hold back right then, either, when he said, “Gideon died in a foster home as a teenager. He’d been beaten. Broken. And everything ripped away, until the only thing left was a shell… of nothing. You know where my name comes from. I told you I kept it to show them how big Zero could be. You saw through that lie. I kept it because that’s all I ever felt like I was worth.” He'd had to stop and look away, shaking his head, trying to compose himself.
“Hey,” Jude had whispered, reaching forward and wiping away the wet tracks running down Gideon’s face. And Jude’s smile had brought Gideon right back in step.
Gideon had then blown out a calming breath and continued, “You brought me back to life, you gave me back my life, and I give you all of me – wholly, absolutely, and freely. I love you more than I knew was possible.”
Later, several guests would have said it was the most romantic moment they’d every witnessed, except after a half-note pause, Gideon had added, “Even when you’re being an asshole.”
But Jude had laughed, delightedly, and they’d exchanged rings and “I do’s,” never taking their eyes off one another.
They had swayed into their kiss, both men trapped in a singular note that resonated through them both.
So there they stood on the dance floor, slowly moving with one another, stealing kisses, slowly turning and maneuvering, until someone said, “Uh… do they know the DJ hasn’t started yet?”
And both men laughed.