Blue ain't your colour (It is mine)

9

That evening, before the start of the show they had a crisis meeting in the mess hall. Rob made hot chocolate for everybody (Adam subtly turned his into cold chocolate as soon as he received it) and they drew up the schedule for the next week. The medic had strictly forbidden Adam to work with his right hand for at least one week. 

"So that means you're out as a waiter until past New Year."
"No," Adam grinned. "That means I only have one hand to carry dishes with. Count me as half a person."
Chance snorted. "I might consider counting you as a quarter of a person with an eighth of a brain once you're down from your painkillers. You get high on those, man."
Adam threw a napkin at his head. He missed.
"But if we pull a few doubles here and there, we should be able to cover the days just fine," Tim pointed out. "Austin can stand in for Adam and then it's business as usual, basically." The rest nodded in agreement. "Hey Chance, how about I do your paperwork and you serve at the tables full time?" Adam suggested with a grin.
"Yeah, sure," his boss retorted drily. "And sign contracts left-handed, probably with smiley faces, and stare customers to death instead of talking to them. No, thanks." He shook his head in mock horror.
"But what concerns me is the shows. Adam was performing almost every evening –"
"– because his sleep schedule is unreal," Rob butted in. "Like, honestly, what the heck? He does the show and then is up and all awake for the early morning shift, I don't get it."
Adam raised his mug to the other man. "It's because I'm extremely awesome," he said earnestly.
"It's the painkillers," Chance groaned. "Not only do they make him high, they make him talk. It's horrible. We should have counted our blessings while he was silent." The others erupted in laughter. All around the table, the relief that their friend was (almost) back to his old self was tangible. The accident had given all of them a scare.
"I, um –," Austin suddenly raised his hesitant voice. He seemed to shrink back in his chair when the others turned to look at him. Nonetheless, he continued speaking. "I could stand in for Adam, maybe. I can sing..." He trailed off.
Chance got up, went down on one knee in front of Adam's chair and grabbed his good hand.
"Adam Rupp, I am a man of my word. Will you marry me?" Adam stared at him, dumbfounded, for a good minute, before their conversation from four days ago (Only four days? It seemed like an eternity) came back to him. Then, he whacked the kneeling man over the back of the head. "You're an idiot, Chance," he reiterated what he'd said earlier in Chance's office. Austin stared at the two of them, utterly lost.
"Don't mind either of these dorks," Tim told him. "I think that's a great idea. Not the marriage, but you singing. I could show you the moves; you probably know most of the songs. We usually do the classics from the radio, so you should be good." Austin nodded. Rob grinned in excitement. "Awesome! So, we have, what?" he checked the clock, "About an hour to get Austin all set and ready." He clapped his hands. "Let's get started!"

For the next hour, the mess hall was filled with cheerful chaos as Tim and Austin decided on a routine for the show, assisted by Adam. Teaching the younger man their dance moves turned out to be a lot of fun. Though Austin was all limbs and lanky awkwardness, between Tim's examples and Adam's comments from the side he quickly started to adopt the graceful movements he had already seen during the past few evenings. He didn't have Adam's measured elegance and control nor Tim's confident presence, but soon enough, he was dancing around the mess hall, in equal measure smooth and energetic. It was captivating to watch. And, best of all, it seemed to help him forget whatever was weighing him down and it made his blue eyes shine happily.

The show of that night was a roaring success. The guests had already come to love Austin as a waiter, but now, with his beaming smile and sky-high, beautiful voice, he enchanted every last one of them. His soaring melodies and riffs perfectly complemented Tim's warm, powerful bass, and Adam found himself thinking of wind whispering around mountaintops and gently descending into the deepest canyons, where it met rumbling earthquakes.

"Rob?" He cleared his throat and shook his head in amazement as he turned to his colleague, who was sharing the corner table with him.
"Yeah?" Rob asked hoarsely.
"Remember last week, when you promised me a hug? I think I could use it right now," Adam said with a thick voice. And as they hugged, he felt similar to that first evening he had spent with Austin, drunk on happiness and heart bursting with an indescribable emotion that made him vow to protect that golden-haired boy and the happiness in his blue eyes at all costs.