Eric narrowed his eyes dangerously, and Blaine felt alarm bells go off inside his head. Personally, Blaine liked this latest doctor, and he really didn’t want to see him come under fire from Eric’s mood. Especially the sort of mood Eric could get in when he thought a complete stranger was ballsy enough to dare think he understood him.
“Eric,” Blaine said softly. “If I’m going to be stuck here for another night, I’d really like some of that hot chocolate I heard the nurses talking about earlier.”
Eric’s eye twitched, but Blaine smiled when he saw some of the tension in the man’s jaw lessen. The dark-haired man pushed out of his seat with a growl, stomping out of the room while muttering to himself about idiots who got blown up and know it all doctors.
Blaine watched him go, still smiling before looking at the doctor. “Andrews, wasn’t it?”
To his surprise, the man nodded and didn’t correct him with his ‘proper’ title. “If you’d prefer my first name, you can call me Grant.”
“Andrews is fine. Please don’t mind my partner he’s...well, he’s him. He’s not a fan of hospitals. Hasn’t been since the accident that took both of his parents when he was a kid.”
Andrews nodded. “I see. People who hate hospitals either don’t know anything about them or know them too well.”
Blaine flashed a smile, then let it drop. “Car accident. His dad died at the scene, but his mom hung on for a couple of days. Eric was unconscious for all of it, didn’t even remember the accident happening, let alone that he was in the backseat. Since then, he’s...always hated the smell of hospitals, the sounds of the machines, stuff like that. Doesn’t even like the beep of a microwave, he won’t admit it, but I think it reminds him of the stuff he was hooked up to when he woke up.”
Woke up to his entire world having been shattered. Eric’s family wasn’t exactly close-knit, even though it was quite large. None of his siblings had wanted anything to do with him, content to let him drift into the system so they could live their lives. That was except for Sean. His big brother was all Eric had for years until Blaine came along.
“And you wouldn’t know it,” Blaine continued. “But this is him worried and freaked, not pissed.”
The doctor smiled. “I’ve been doing this for almost two decades, Mr. Edwards, I’ve seen all the colors and forms that worry, fear, and grief can take. Don’t worry, I won’t take it personally.”
Blaine smiled gratefully, liking the man’s sturdy and modest attitude. He knew Eric could be a lot to deal with for the average person, especially those with overactive egos.
“So, tomorrow morning, right?” Blaine asked.
Andrews hummed. “I see you’re choosing to be stubborn.”
Blaine laughed softly. “C’mon Doc, you’ve seen my medical history, this isn’t the first blow to my head. I know what a severe concussion feels like. I know where I’m at, what year it is, and I haven’t been losing track of time or my thoughts. I’m coherent and lucid.”
“With that sort of experience, perhaps you should consider wearing a helmet, Mr. Edwards.”
Blake snorted from his spot in the corner. “I’ve been telling him that since we were kids.”
“If you make it through tonight without any issues, I’ll get the paperwork started for you in the morning,” Andrews told him.
Blaine sighed, knowing that meant he wouldn’t be out until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. “Thank you, doctor.”
Blake waited until the doctor retreated out of the room before chuckling. “You really unleashed your boyfriend on the poor people in the cafeteria?”
“First of all,” Blaine said, adjusting his bed to sit up straighter. “He’s not my boyfriend, we haven’t talked about anything.”
“Right, he just read your love letters from before and cuddled with you on your deathbed.”
“Secondly,” he continued, ignoring his brother. “Eric will spit and snarl at the doctors because he hates them on principle, and hiss at the nurses because he knows they don’t mind. He would never take his temper out on some poor minimum wage worker, though he probably will bitch and moan about slow service as he shoves a huge tip into their jar.”
“Careful, you might give people the idea that he’s not a grumpy asshole,” Blake warned.
“Because he’s not...most of the time. Just don’t let him hear you say it, or he’ll turn his mood around on you,” Blaine told him.
Blake snorted, standing up. “Oh, hell no. You just basically got the all-clear to go home, and I’m not sitting around to have Eric start in on me. He couldn’t be more obvious about wanting to get you out of here and away from everyone else.”
“You think so too, huh?” Blaine asked.
“He’s not as subtle as he thinks.”
His brother approached the bed, taking Blaine’s hand in his and squeezing. “And call or text me when you make it home, okay? I don’t need to be sitting at home, thinking you collapsed in the street because you were too stubborn and lied to the doctor about how you’re actually feeling.”
“Yeah, love you too,” Blaine told him, squeezing back.
Eric returned as Blake reached the doorway, a drink carrier in hand. Blake murmured something before taking one of the drinks and walking out of sight.
Eric sputtered. “Fucking…”
Blaine raised a brow. “What did he say?”
Eric huffed, yanking the remaining cup out and handing it to Blaine. “He said I didn’t need caffeine.”
Blaine chuckled, taking the offered hot chocolate. “I didn’t know he cared.”
“He’s a fucking asshole,” Eric grumped, tossing the drinks carrier into the trash.
Blaine said nothing, sipping on his drink and watching as Eric stomped around the room, fussing with the chairs, adjusting the sheet on Blaine’s bed, adjusted his clothes, and generally fiddled mindlessly. It was typical Eric. When the man couldn’t do anything productive, and his thoughts weren’t a place of refuge, he would commit to any mindless task to do something with his restless energy.
“Well?” Eric finally spat out.
Blaine blinked. “Well, what?”
Eric motioned agitatedly toward the door. “What did the quack say?”
Blaine chuckled. “He said they’re going to keep me for the night, just to make sure nothing is serious. If that goes well, he’ll get the paperwork started for my release in the morning.”
Eric snorted. “Great, so you’re stuck in here for another night. Fucking doctors.”
“Thank you for the hot chocolate. I notice you put dark chocolate in it for me,” Blaine said.
Eric’s annoyed expression wavered, then was replaced by a frown. “You’re welcome.”
It was fascinating to watch Eric’s temper deflate rapidly. People had always asked how it was that Blaine could deal with Eric’s erratic moods and showy temper. The answer, one that Blaine never shared with anyone else, was the same now as it was then. The man could stomp and swear with the best of them, but the minute he was shown human warmth, his anger simply melted away.
Eric flopped gracelessly into the chair beside Blaine’s bed. He was watching Blaine’s face, eyes darting over Blaine’s body nervously. Blaine gave him a warm smile, sipping his drink, and letting the silence stretch. He could see something brewing behind Eric’s eyes and knew that if he waited long enough, Eric would spit it out on his own.
“I read the letters,” Eric finally said.
“Mm, I saw that. It was nice of Sean to bring them, though I’m not so sure I agree with the timing,” Blaine chuckled.
Eric scowled. “He’s a fucking asshole for having kept them in the first place. I don’t care if he was worried or whatever, he shouldn’t have done that. They were for me, god damn it.”
Blaine said nothing, knowing better than to allow Eric to focus on his anger at Sean. Blaine hadn’t been too pleased when he’d figured out that Sean was the reason Eric had known nothing about the letters. Sean had given his reasons, and Blaine couldn�
�t blame him, even if it didn’t make him feel better. Love was beautiful and all, but it could be a tricky bitch too. Sometimes it drove perfectly reasonable, level-headed people to do impulsive, possibly destructive things all in the name of protecting. Blaine had forgiven Sean already, and he knew in time, so would Eric.
“And?” Blaine asked softly, looking at the box and letters.
Eric’s cheeks colored, ducking his head. “I...we’ll talk, okay?”
Blaine nodded his understanding. For all his seeming impulsiveness, Eric thought through a lot of things, sometimes thinking them into the ground. Blaine could almost picture his partner crunching the numbers, taking apart every aspect of the problem, inspecting each piece, then putting it back together to do the same thing all over again.
But he was willing to talk, and that would be enough for Blaine.
“Okay,” Blaine said, turning his hand to offer it to Eric.
Eric’s mouth twitched downward, and for a moment Blaine thought Eric’s temper might flare up again, still smarting from the past. Eric took a deep breath, and the threat of anger was replaced by longing, pain, and something else that Blaine hadn’t seen Eric direct toward him in a long time.
Warmth.
“Needy,” Eric grumbled, reaching out and lacing his fingers with Blaine’s.
“I have a boo-boo,” Blaine told him in a plaintive voice.
Eric snorted. “You’re an idiot.”
Blaine smiled, telling him without words that while that was true, he was Eric’s idiot.
Always had been, always would be.
Eric
Eric grumbled wordlessly as he fumbled with Blaine’s keys. There were so many keys on the ring, how the hell was he supposed to know which was the right one for the man’s apartment?
“Doing alright up there?” Blaine called from the bottom of the stairs.
Eric shot him a glare, which then promptly faltered as he caught sight of Blaine. The man was halfway up the stairs, leaning against the wall. He was trying his best not to show the pain, but Eric would bet the man’s head was still throbbing mercilessly. Blaine had insisted that he could live with it, but Eric was still going to force a pain reliever down his throat if he had to jam it in there.
“I think I should be asking you that,” Eric grumbled.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re a stubborn jackass is what you are.”
“That makes two of us.”
Eric rolled his eyes, jamming the keys into his pocket and stomping down the stairs to Blaine’s side. He wasn’t going to figure out which key it was anytime soon anyway, and the last thing he needed was for Blaine to go tumbling back down. They’d only been out of the hospital an hour, and he had no intention of going back if they could help it.
“I said I’m fine,” Blaine huffed.
“Shut the fuck up and c’mon,” Eric growled at him, hooking his arm under Blaine’s good one and helping him up the remaining stairs.
“It’s just a headache,” Blaine complained.
“Good, then we’ll get you in your nice dark room, get you a couple of pills, and you won’t have to worry about it,” Eric told him as they reached the top.
“I’ve hit my head before, I don’t need to be babied,” Blaine protested.
Eric rolled his eyes, plucking the keys from his pocket and thrust them at Blaine. “Then use your head and tell me which of these keys is the one to get in. Don’t know why you have so many.”
“Takes two to get in here. Then there’s the one for my truck, my parent’s house, Blake’s place, a storage unit,” Blaine listed them all off, sounding sullen.
Eric restrained himself from telling Blaine it had been a hypothetical statement on his part. He’d honestly never met anyone who was a bigger baby when they were injured than Blaine. Oh sure, the man put on a good show of being an independent, don’t need no man sort of patient, but Eric knew it was a front. Blaine got grumpy, whiny, and stubborn when he was hurt, even when it was something simple like the common cold. The bump to his head and injured ribs were doing nothing to disprove that theory, either.
“I hate this lock,” Blaine huffed as he tried to unlock the deadbolt.
Eric reached out, grabbing the door handle and yanking the door so it was flush with the frame. The key in Blaine’s hand turned easily with a muffled clunk as the deadbolt slid free. Blaine gave another huff, this time unlocking the knob itself and flinging open the door with more force than necessary.
“Show off,” Blaine grumbled.
“Right, because this isn’t my first time unlocking a shitty door,” Eric told him, hustling him inside.
Blaine continued to mutter under his breath, unconsciously swapping roles with Eric as he stepped into his apartment. Eric followed close behind, closing and locking the door behind him as Blaine found the light switch.
“Christ, I’m thirsty,” Blaine said as he made his way to the kitchen.
“No alcohol!” Eric called after him, looking around the apartment.
“I know how to treat a head injury, Eric.”
The pouting tone brought a smirk to Eric’s face as he took in the small apartment. Blaine hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he was living a Spartan lifestyle. There was enough furniture to be comfortable, but there wasn’t much else. Nothing on the walls, not even the style of furniture, gave away anything about Blaine’s personality. It was honestly a little depressing.
“So this is what you get after devoting eight years of your life to the government,” Eric muttered.
“What?” Blaine called.
“Nothing, talking to myself.”
“Good conversation?”
“Only way I’m going to get one.”
Blaine chuckled. “You thirsty? I have bottled water and...milk that is probably cottage cheese by now.”
Eric wrinkled his nose. “Jesus, Blaine.”
“What?”
Eric shook his head. “Full-grown man, and you can’t keep fresh milk stocked.”
Blaine leaned against the counter, pouting. “I was in the hospital.”
“For like, two days.”
Blaine smirked, taking a deep drink out of his water bottle. Eric wanted to call the man out for intentionally being difficult but found himself distracted by Blaine’s bared throat. Throats didn’t do much for Eric, but he certainly could appreciate the way it drew his chest up and into view, and how Blaine’s thick arms were on display as he tipped the bottle back to get every drop.
“Here,” Blaine said, turning around to grab a bottle out of the pack on the counter. “Get hydrated.”
“Don’t keep them in the fridge?” Eric asked wryly.
“Yeah, I always keep a pack in there, but you don’t like ice-cold water,” Blaine pointed out as he crinkled up the bottle and tossed it in the trash can.
That was true, and once more, Eric was reminded of just how well Blaine knew him. A week ago, the thought would have infuriated him. The idea still sat uneasily in his chest, but he didn’t necessarily think it was a bad thing. He and Blaine still had plenty to talk about, but he was in no rush. Blaine was here, in one piece, and Eric knew more of the truth than he had before.
He could wait.
“C’mon, let’s get you to bed,” Eric said softly.
Blaine groaned. “I’m fine.”
“Quit arguing with me. I had to yell at too many people to get you home today.”
“You say that like you don’t enjoy yelling at people.”
Eric rolled his eyes, pointing toward the hallway. “Bed. I’ll get you something for the headache.”
“Nothing good, I bet,” Blaine grumbled as he grudgingly obeyed.
“You were the one who told the doctor you didn’t need any ‘baby pills’ before we left, so that’s on you,” Eric said, following behind.
“Not the greatest idea I ever had,” Blaine admitted.
Eric watched Blaine as he entered the room on the right, before continuing on to what he
assumed was the bathroom. The bathroom was even more sparse than the living room, with only a shower liner and things for showering. Thankfully, there was some decent stuff in the cabinet, and he grabbed the migraine medication. Leave it to Blaine to have medical supplies but not even a shower curtain.
When he stepped into the bedroom, Eric stuttered to a stop. Blaine was sprawled on his back on the bed, head on a pillow. His other pillow was wrapped up in one of his thick arms. Steady, soft snoring came from him as his chest rose and fell.
“Good thing he didn’t say he wasn’t tired,” Eric said, rolling his eyes.
With his bottle of water in hand, he walked up to nudge Blaine awake. His partner’s eyes cracked open, peering up at Eric blearily. Eric dropped a few of the pills into his hand and held out the bottle of water. Blaine’s sleepy smile pooled in Eric’s stomach, warm and welcoming. He waited until Blaine had downed the medicine before taking the bottle of water from him and setting it on the bedside table.
“And he’s back asleep,” Eric muttered when he turned back toward the bed.
Sighing, he grabbed Blaine’s boots and began unlacing them. “The rest of your clothes are staying on, asshole.”
Blaine muttered something in his sleep as Eric dropped the boots onto the floor beside the bed. He looked around the room, finding it in a similar state to the rest of the apartment. The only sign of personality were the pictures on the dresser on the far side of the room.
With a glance toward Blaine, Eric advanced on the dresser. It wasn’t a large collection of photos, but somehow Eric thought that made them all the more special. There was a picture of Blaine standing atop a mountain ridge, overlooking a breathtaking vista of snow-covered peaks and lush green trees. Eric had no idea where it was, but Blaine was staring off into the distance, looking at peace.
Another was of him standing in a group of men, a bandage over his eye, his arms flung around the shoulders of the men on either side of him. They were all wearing fatigues, some of them with weapons strapped to their back. Blaine was grinning, though, and the men around him were grinning almost as broadly.
A third showed Blaine with his brother, before Blaine had added an extra few dozen pounds to his bulk. The twins were sitting beside a fire, their heads together. It could have been a sweet picture, but Eric could see the smirk on Blaine’s shadowed face, and he’d bet Blake was coming up with a really bad idea for them to act on.
Unbreak My Heart (Heroes of Port Dale Book 4) Page 13
