by Sean Michael
“Babe. Babe.” God, it was good. There was nothing like it.
Heat splashed over his hand even as Jean’s ass milked his cock. He opened his mouth in a soundless cry as Jean’s orgasm pulled his own out of him.
Jean held him in, held him close, and Ralph curled around his lover’s back. “Love you, babe.”
“It’s going to be okay, right?”
“It’s going to be okay.” He’d keep saying it until it was true.
Chapter Twenty-Two
BRETT PACKED his bare essentials into an overnight bag, brushed his teeth, and stared at himself in the mirror for a long, long time before he returned to the bedroom and sat on the bed.
“Are you sure you want to come with me tomorrow? The surgery’s scheduled so early….”
Brett had already been to the hospital more times than he’d expected. Tests, more tests, papers—all that horseshit.
“Of course I’m coming with you tomorrow.” Benj cupped his cheek, gazed up at him with all the love in the world. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
“You could just sleep in.” He wrapped one arm around Benj, tugged him close. “Everything’s set up, in case. You know.”
Benj curled up against him. “I won’t be able to sleep, love. You don’t have to worry about me—it’s my turn to worry about you.”
He nodded, trying not to think about… all this mess.
Cutting into his fucking head. They were going to cut into his motherfucking head.
Benj nuzzled against him. “You need to sleep tonight, love. Can I help with that?”
“I don’t think I can sleep, baby.” He was scared.
“You want me to rub your back, love?”
“Sure.” If it didn’t relax him, it would ease Benj.
“Why don’t you lie on the bed—more comfortable that way.”
Brett moved, stretched out, trying not to think about… all the things a guy thought about before surgeons took out an extra bit of brain.
Benj oiled up his hands and began working on his back, the touches light and good at first, then slowly becoming stronger. “You need to talk about it, love?”
“I don’t know what to say. There’s nothing to say.”
“You’re tight.”
“I’m scared.”
“Good.” Benj kissed the back of his ear. “I’d be more worried about you if you weren’t. It’s a scary thing. You’re going to come through it, though. You’re going to come through it and be better than ever.”
“Well, then. I’m going to be fine.” He chuckled, then closed his eyes tight. “I love you, huh?”
“I know. I do like to hear it, though. As many times as you’ll tell me.” Another kiss landed, this time on his neck. “And I love you. More than I could ever say.”
“I know, baby.” Brett sighed, changed the subject. “Did I tell you that Mickey and Raul and Jack called me? They’re going to come see us at the hospital.”
“Really?” Benj sounded truly happy to hear it. “I’m so glad they’re coming to support you.”
“They just want to poke fun.” He grinned, though. The four of them were tight—even with all the weirdness. They hadn’t been in touch much. Everybody knew it was bad luck to hang with the injured guy.
“They only do that because they care.” Benj’s hands were working magic and relaxing Brett’s muscles.
“I know.” Hell, he’d been Mick’s best man and had testified at Raul’s immigration hearing.
“It’s nice knowing they’ll come by to see you. I know you’ve missed everyone, everything.” Benj began pushing along Brett’s spine.
“It’s been nice, though, having you.” His toes actually curled.
Benj giggled softly. “You can have me anytime you like.”
“Oh ho! Can I now?” He actually smiled and meant it. “I want to travel, baby. You and me and the world, huh?”
“Yeah. There’s a lot of places to see. We could go and go and go.”
Brett nodded. “It’s a plan. We do this thing, we heal up, and if I have to, I play my last season. Then we just go.”
“Yeah, it sounds great. Especially the ‘we’ part.”
“Where should we go first?”
“Oh, somewhere warm with a beach and room service.”
“You liked Cancun. We could go there. See the ruins.”
Sunbathe.
Drink.
Sleep in.
“Sounds good to me. We should go see the monkeys this time.”
“You and your monkeys.”
Those sweet giggles came again, Benj’s fingers tickling him now. He started making monkey noises, oo-oo-oo and ee-ee-ee, both of them laughing hard. Benj collapsed half on him, half off. Brett shifted, turned around, and almost unseated him. Their noses pressed together.
He met Benj’s eyes, laughter fading. “I’m gonna make it through this, baby. I swear to you. I’m gonna do it.”
“You’d better. Because if you don’t, I’m going to find you on the other side and beat your ass.”
“That’s fair.”
“Okay.” Benj rubbed their noses together and then kissed him.
Brett dragged Benj close and held on.
Okay.
It was going to be okay.
Chapter Twenty-Three
BENJ HAD tried sleeping.
He’d tried meditating.
Pacing.
Reading.
Talking.
He’d tried everything.
None of it could mitigate the fact that Brett was in that operating room having his head cut open, the tumor taken out.
Would they get it all?
Would something go wrong during the surgery?
Every possible scenario ran through his head like a gory movie.
And no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop it.
“Cher, you want a juice? They have orange, apple.” Ralph and Jean had been with him every second.
“I don’t think I could.” His mouth was dry, so dry, but he didn’t think he could keep anything down.
“They said he’s doing well, huh? We should get another update soon.”
Benj nodded and got up again, walked around the little waiting room. He wanted to run. He wanted to scream.
Mostly he wanted Brett to be done with surgery, to be well and holding him again.
A nurse came in, headed right for him. “Mr. Simon?” At his nod, she continued. “We’ve had some trouble regulating his blood pressure. The surgeons are with him, but things are taking longer than expected.”
His heart felt like it had stopped. “Trouble?”
“Just a bit. They’re taking every precaution. I wanted to update you.”
“I…. Thank you. How much longer?” He didn’t think he could do this indefinitely. Not without losing his mind.
“You should be able to see him in recovery in a couple of hours, I imagine.”
“A couple of hours.” He blinked back stupid tears. “Okay. Okay, thank you.”
She patted his arm, nodded, and then she was gone.
Dammit.
Ralph was right there. “His blood pressure?”
“That’s what she said. They had trouble regulating it. Is that bad? She made it sound like it wasn’t too bad, but she said trouble.”
“I’m sure they’re being careful so that he doesn’t have a stroke. Remember, that was the big risk.”
“He’s too young to have a stroke.” Benj twisted his hands together. “He’s not going to have a stroke. He can’t.”
“Well then, we’ll be glad they’re takin’ their time, chou,” Jean said.
“I just don’t know how much longer I can stay here.” He sat down and then stood again.
“Do you want to go somewhere?” Jean took his hand. “We could walk.”
He held on like it was a lifeline. “I need to be here when they’ve finished.”
“You have your cell. We’ll walk the stairs.”
“You sure
that will be all right?”
Jean gave him a sweet, gentle smile. “I swear it will be.”
“Okay. Okay, that sounds good. I don’t think I can take much more of this room.”
He let Jean lead him out of the waiting room and only looked back twice.
BENJ FOLLOWED the nurse to recovery. He was vibrating.
Literally.
They were finally—finally—letting him go see Brett.
Not awake yet, yadda yadda—he didn’t care. He just needed to see his lover for himself. The surgeon—Dr. Somebody Important—was standing there, smiling.
Smiling.
Oh thank God.
“Hi. Hello. What can you tell me about Brett?” There, go him. He hadn’t stammered once.
“He’s doing well. Very well. We removed the tumor—all of it in one piece. It’s at the lab, but it looked good.”
“Oh!” Benj’s knees nearly collapsed out from under him at the sudden release those words brought.
“He’s going to be groggy, hurting, and his balance is going to be affected for a few days at best, a few months at worst.”
Months. Oh, Brett would hate that. Just hate it. But still. “But it is going to get better?”
“There’s no reason to believe it won’t. He’s relatively young, healthy, strong. His nerves will reroute.”
“Oh, that’s good news. Thank you.” He needed to go see Brett now. He didn’t care if his lover was groggy or grumpy or anything but alive.
“You’ll only be allowed in for a few minutes. The nurses will show you the hand-washing station.”
“Okay.” He nodded and turned his attention to the nurse, who was waiting patiently by a sink, a smile on her face.
She showed him the foot pedal, the soap, the face masks.
If he hadn’t been so thrilled to finally be seeing Brett, he might have been worried or scared about all the preparations he had to make, but he just wanted to see Brett. Nothing else seemed real.
And really, Brett looked okay—a little pale and with tubes and bandages on his head, but not… deathly ill.
He reached for Brett’s hand, heaving a big sigh of relief when it was warm. It felt normal. Benj wasn’t sure what exactly he’d been expecting, but he was relieved by what he got.
“He’s really doped up, but you can talk to him. He’s already had his eyes open twice, and he’s talked, which is great. He didn’t make much sense, but they were words. I’m Lisa, by the way. I’m a big fan. He signed a ball for me about five years ago.”
“Oh, you’ll have to tell him—he’ll love that.” Benj gave her a big smile and then turned his attention back to Brett.
“Brett? Love? Lisa says you’re kind of awake. Can you hear me?”
Brett took one slow, deep breath, chest rising and falling.
“The doctor said everything went well. And you look good.” Open your eyes for me, love.
“Thir—” Brett frowned, swallowed.
“Oh, are you thirsty?” Benj turned to Lisa, who’d retreated but was still within earshot. “Can he have some water?”
“Not yet. We need to make sure he doesn’t vomit. How about a few ice chips?”
Benj nodded and took the cup of ice chips she handed over.
“I’ve got some ice chips for you, love.” He took out one of the chips and rubbed it along Brett’s lips. “Can you feel that?”
Brett’s lips opened straightaway. Benj was worried about the ice chip sliding into Brett’s throat and choking him, so he kept hold of one end and slipped it into Brett’s mouth. It melted almost immediately, and Brett opened for another one.
“Oh, you are thirsty.”
He got another ice chip and did the same thing. “You’re doing great, love. Just great.”
“Ben….”
Bloodshot eyes opened, stared at him.
“Brett!” He beamed at his lover, moving closer to be sure Brett could see him. “Hey, love. Don’t you look wonderful?”
“Hurts.”
“I’ll talk to the nurse—I’m sure you’re not supposed to be hurting.” He turned away long enough to get Lisa’s attention again. “He’s hurting.”
She came over, looked at his chart. “Okay, do you see that green button? That’s his morphine drip. You can’t overdose him, but either one of you can hit it when he needs relief.”
“Oh, thank you.”
He smiled at Brett. “They’ve got you on the good drugs, love.” Leaning over, he pressed the button. “I’ll show you how to use it when you’re less groggy, okay?”
Brett tried to nod, but groaned.
“It’s okay, love, you don’t have to say anything or move or stuff like that. It’s going to get better. They had you in the operating room forever because they were being very careful. They got the whole thing out, though, love. The entire tumor.” He babbled away, hoping Brett was holding on to his voice.
Lisa kept coming over, checking things, nodding, offering him a smile. “We’re going to move him to ICU overnight in a few hours, then to his own bed tomorrow morning.”
“I can stay with him in the ICU, right?” He was sticking to Brett like glue.
“You can, but I’ll warn you, he’ll be out of it, and you’ll be uncomfortable.”
“That’s okay. I promised him I’d stay with him.” It wasn’t like he’d be able to sleep if he went back to the house with Jean and Ralph.
Brett groaned softly, legs moving restlessly. “I need up.”
One of Lisa’s hands landed on his shoulder. “Hey, big guy. Stay. No getting up for a day or so, hmm?”
“You’ll have lots of time to show everyone what a big stud you are.”
Lisa grinned at him, winked. “I’d prefer not to restrain him, honestly, so let’s keep him nice and calm. The pain meds might give him nightmares.”
“Restrain him!” Benj’s eyes went wide. “No, we don’t want that.”
“Nope. So let’s keep him quiet.”
“Did you hear that, love? You need to stay calm and quiet.” He patted Brett’s hand.
Brett’s fingers jerked, then curled around his, holding on.
“Love you, Brett.” He bent and kissed Brett softly, and then simply leaned against the edge of the bed and held on to Brett’s hand.
It was going to be okay.
Chapter Twenty-Four
HURT.
His head hurt.
“Ben…” Didn’t Benj say he’d be here?
“Hey, love.” Benj’s hand slid over his, warm and soft. “How are you doing?”
“Where am I? I need a drink.” His mouth felt weird.
“Hospital, love. You had surgery, remember? To take out the tumor.” Something cold and wet slid against his lips.
He opened for the ice, sucking the little chips. So good. So good.
Wait.
Tumor.
“Did they get it?”
“They did, love. The whole thing. It’s at pathology, but the doctor said it looked good—not cancer.” Benj’s fingers slid on his cheek, petting him.
“Not cancer?” He sighed. “Good. When… when do we go?”
“When you’re feeling better. A few days. I’ll stay right here with you, so you don’t have to worry about a thing.”
He grunted, dozing off a little bit, maybe, holding Benj’s hand.
When he came to again, Benj’s head was on his belly, fingers still twisted around his. He reached over, careful of all the tubes, and stroked Benj’s hair, real careful. Those sweet eyes popped open, and Benj smiled up at him.
“Baby.” He smiled back. “It all went okay?”
“It went great. They got it all out.”
“When’s it supposed to feel better?”
“Are you hurting?” Benj lifted his head and reached for something. “This is your morphine. You click it when you’re hurting.”
“’Kay.” Warmth flooded him, and he sighed. “Love you, huh? You okay?”
“I am.” Benj kissed his hand
. “And I love you too.”
“When can we go home?”
“When the doctor says so. Before the surgery, they said it would be four or five days, remember?”
“I think so?” He felt a little confused. “I think I’m ready now.”
Benj shook his head. “That’s the morphine talking, love. It hasn’t even been a day.”
“It hasn’t?” He frowned, tried to sit up. “I have to pee.”
“You’ve got that thing in your penis doing it for you, love.” Benj patted his stomach.
“I have to pee.”
Benj frowned at him and pulled back the blankets. “Oh, the line is all twisted.” Benj fiddled.
The pressure eased, and he groaned in relief.
“Better.”
“Sorry, love.”
Benj shifted, moving so his head was resting on the bed next to Brett’s.
“When do I get to come home?” Wait? Had he asked that?
“In a few days. You only just had the surgery, love.” Benj’s lips touched his softly.
He smiled, nodded, and winced as that pulled at the back of his head. “No nodding.”
Benj’s hand caressed his cheek. “Yeah. No nodding. Not for a few days, hmm?”
“Love you, baby.” He sighed, stretched a little. “What time is it?”
“Um….” Benj checked his watch. “It’s just after 5:00 a.m.”
“Wow. Aren’t you tired? Shouldn’t you go home to the apartment? Sleep?”
Benj’s face went funny for a moment, and then he shook his head. “I’m staying here with you, love.”
“I know it’s fucking selfish, but I’m glad. I hate these places.” His eyelids were so fucking heavy.
So heavy.
“It’s okay, love. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” Benj gave him another soft kiss. “Why don’t you go back to sleep before the nurses come and wake you up?”
“I think I should. I want juice. You think the Cajun would bring me one of the red smoothies?”
He liked those.
He liked those a lot.
Benj gave him a slow, beautiful smile. “I bet he would. I’ll ask him when he comes by tomorrow, later today. Whatever.”
“Cool.”
He patted Benj’s hand again, sighed softly, then sank into sleep.