Nines likes to listen to his music on the way home from work. The company allows him to test the tech he helps design and he had fallen in love with a pair of wireless headphones that were almost invisible buds and nothing more. It makes the 40 minute bus ride that much more relaxing, not having to talk to anyone, just flashing his pass at the driver with a nod. With all the money he earns, he could easily move closer to work or even learn to drive and get a car. But heâs a creature of habit, the time alone on the bus is his time and his alone. Itâs 40 minutes of quiet bliss.
One day, heâs at the bus stop and man approaches, gives him a wary nod and waits for the bus too. They get on, sit down and Nines thinks nothing more of it. It becomes a bit of a routine, the guy gives him a tight lipped smile on the fourth day which Nines returns and looks away. People have always made him a bit uncomfortable, small talk at the bus stop wasnât his idea of a good time.
Occasionally, he looks to the side, watches the guy as he either stands with his hands jammed in his pockets, bouncing on his toes, or heâs leaning against the bus stop sign and scowling at his phone. The arch of his back does not make Nines think of other uses the pole could be put to in a much more x-rated situation. Those days, Nines valiantly wrenches his eyes from frowning guy and curses himself for thinking such lewd thoughts about some poor innocent stranger heâd never even spoken to.
A couple of months go by and Nines gets used to the guyâs presence. Itâs almost comforting, knowing how every day other than Tuesdays he will be there to give Nines a small smile as they wait for the bus in almost companionable silence. Itâs Tuesday and Nines stares down the road, waiting for the bus when he feels a hand on his elbow.
Itâs the guy, looking a little sheepish as he waves and begins to make odd shapes with his hands. Nines frowns at him and it flusters the guy, he starts over again, slower and has a small frown of concentration on his face. Itâs confusing enough that Nines pulls one of the earbuds out, lets it roll over his fingers in a nervous tick.
âIâm sorry, what are you doing?â
âOh! You speak!â The guy looks genuinely taken aback. âIâm sorry. What I mean is,â he rubs the back of his neck but doesnât finish his sentence.
âWhat were you doing?â Nines cocks his head to the side, trying to figure out what exactly was going on.
âUmmm.â Not an eloquent response but Nines was willing to wait for one. âThat was sign language.â
âIâve been learning it for the last few months because I thought you were deaf!â
The frown on Ninesâ brows deepened. He looked at the earbud in his palm before looking back up at the guy.
âWell, you never responded to anything I said when I tried to make conversation with you or invite you out to coffee.â He was staring at the ground, lightly kicking his toes against the pavement to displace some nervous, defensive energy.
It was endearing and Nines had to chuckle at the idea. At least the guyâs eyes snapped up to look at him, scowl firmly in place at the idea of being laughed at.
âHeadphones,â Nines showed the bud to Gavin who peered at them. Understanding dawned on him.
âThose are the RK900s, arenât they?â
It was Ninesâ turn to frown. Nobody should know about those headphones just yet.
âIâm working on the box sleeve. Gavin Reed, head of design.â A hand was extended towards him which Nines shook.
âRichard Stern, senior product developer. Most people call me Nines.â
Not that he was ever a great believer in fate, but Nines had a suspicion his bus rides were going to get a lot more social all of a sudden. It wasnât like he minded in particular. After all, it did land him a coffee date which turned into a relationship and ended in a wedding.
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