“Yeah,” Adrian murmured, nodding. “You got it right.”
Logan exhaled, tension melting from his shoulders.
Adrian ran his fingers over Logan’s lips, soft and plump, his touch almost reverent. “Learned to play on some old guitar a neighbor lent me,”he said, voice quiet, thoughtful. “Didn’t know there was such a thing as a left-handed guitar until I was, like, eighteen. By then, I was already too used to playing this way.” He smirked, shrugging. “Guess I never really did things the right way.”
Adrian traced the line of Logan’s jaw with his fingers, his touch tender. “You didn’t have to get me anything, really. Having you here with me is the best gift I could ever ask for. Sleeping beside you, waking up next to you, kissing you, touching you—that’s more than I ever dared to wish for in my entire life.” He paused, his voice trembling with sincerity. “But I love it. I love this guitar, Logan. Thank you.”
Logan’s lips parted in response, but before he could speak, Adrian leaned in again, brushing their noses together in a playful, intimate gesture. The guitar rested beside them, forgotten for now, as the waves crashed tenderly in the background
Logan sighed, an easy smile tugging at his lips as he kissed Adrian lightly, his voice teasing but laced with sincerity. “You really can’t go around saying things like that,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against Adrian’s for a brief moment before pulling back. “Besides, you said you didn’t bring your guitar because you didn’t want to travel with it. So, good thing you’ve got another man with you, I can share the load.”
Adrian smirked, eyes glinting with mischief as he leaned back, lifting himself off Logan and shifting onto his knees. For a fleeting second, Logan felt the absence of his warmth, the cool air rushing in where Adrian’s body had been pressed against his. But then, Adrian turned his gaze outward, looking past the edges of their world, out toward the horizon.
The sunset caught him, casting him in gold, in fire, in the kind of light that made men believe in things they shouldn’t. His features softened inthe glow, shadows dancing along his jawline, the light tracing over the curve of his shoulders, the slope of his back.
And then, without a word, he reached for the guitar.
Logan watched as Adrian adjusted, shifting his weight, cradling the instrument against his body like it was another limb, something natural, something instinctual. His fingers found the tuning pegs, twisting them with absentminded precision, listening for the right pitch, for the right tension.
“I want to play you something,” Adrian said, his voice light, casual, like this wasn’t everything.
His fingers ghosted over the strings, testing them, finding their rhythm.
“You mind?” he added, but there was something in his voice, something unspoken. Like he already knew Logan wouldn’t say no. Like he already knew that, in this moment, Logan would take anything Adrian was willing to give.
“I was counting on it, actually,” Logan replied, settling himself cross-legged in front of Adrian. The last rays of the setting sun illuminated him, casting a warm glow over his face that made Adrian’s chest ache.
Adrian strummed a few chords, testing the strings, before the unmistakable melody ofEverythingby Lifehouse began to spill from the guitar. Logan froze, his breath hitching as recognition bloomed. It was his favorite song—a piece of music he thought no one knew he cherished as much as he did. And then Adrian started singing.
His voice, soft and slightly raspy, carried the lyrics with a clarity that sent a shiver through Logan’s entire body. Adrian’s eyes never left his, grounding him in a way that felt both overwhelming and comforting. As Adrian played, Logan was transfixed—by the fluidity of his fingers on thestrings, by the way his voice carried every note with raw passion, and by the man himself, sitting there like he belonged to this moment and this moment alone.
When Adrian’s voice swelled for the chorus, rising in strength and emotion, something deep within Logan cracked open. Adrian wasn’t just playing or singing; he was baring his soul, pouring everything he had into the music. The words struck Logan with a force he hadn’t expected, echoing truths he hadn’t allowed himself to name.
The world around them blurred, fading to nothing as Adrian’s silvery voice wrapped around Logan’s heart, squeezing tight. He didn’t notice the small crowd that had gathered, drawn by the melody floating over the beach. He didn’t care. His focus was entirely on Adrian—his lips, his hands, his voice, the raw emotion he was laying bare with every note.
By the time Adrian reached the final chorus, singing the words with a kind of intensity that sent shivers racing down Logan’s spine, Logan’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears. He didn’t think it was possible for anyone to outshine the original version of the song, but Adrian had. And the realization that Adrian had done this for him—the learning, the singing, the playing—made something deep inside Logan ache with gratitude and longing.
Adrian finished, his voice lingering in the air like the fading rays of the sun. The small crowd clapped, their scattered cheers punctuating the quiet, but Adrian’s attention was on Logan. His gaze was steady, searching, as though Logan’s reaction was the only one that mattered.
Logan didn’t speak right away, his throat too tight with emotion. Adrian tilted his head, a faint crease forming between his brows as he said, “The original’s with an electric guitar, not acoustic—”
Logan shook his head, cutting him off. “It was amazing,” he whispered, his voice unsteady but full of conviction. “Absolutely amazing. I didn’t think you’d know the song. It’s old and… I just didn’t think you’d know how to play it.”
Adrian’s lips quirked into a smile, his voice soft but amused. “I may have looked up the chords online,” he admitted. “With how much you love that song, and how often you listen to it, I figured it’d be good to know it.”
Logan didn’t even think—he surged forward, wrapping his arms around Adrian, pulling him close despite the guitar pressing awkwardly between them. “You’re aware I’m going to have you play it nonstop now, right?” he murmured against Adrian’s ear, a teasing lilt to his voice.
Adrian chuckled, his hands coming up to stroke Logan’s back. “I should have seen it coming,” he said lightly, though Logan knew he’d play until his fingers bled just to see Logan smile again like he did now. “Hey, by the way, when’s your birthday?” Adrian asked, suddenly realizing he did not know that.
“November 12th,” Logan answered, stretching his arms behind his head, his voice easy, unguarded.
Adrian hummed, rolling the date over in his mind. It was just a number, just a day, just another thing to tuck away with all the other little details about Logan that he was quietly collecting, like seashells along the shore.
And yet—
Here, on this beautiful beach in the Philippines, Adrian had no way of knowing what that date would come to mean.
Had no way of knowing what November 12th would bring.
