Switch It Up

by Sara Brookes

  Ezra’s eyes fluttered open. “What the hell?”

  “You’re fine now. Think you drank something that didn’t agree with you. Or had too much.” He decided not to mention the fact he knew exactly why Ezra had gone down. That was a conversation better left for when Ezra had his wits about him again. They could discuss that at the same time Ezra provided some clarification as to why he hadn’t mentioned his condition on his required medical clearance for the club. Only a few members had balked at the need for the data, but if something happened during a scene, Kochran wanted to make sure information was on hand to effectively treat the patient. Emergency personnel were only a phone call away, but Kochran required at least basic level first-aid training for every Master and Dom at the club.

  Ezra scowled as he tossed back the sheet and sat up. Kochran caught him when he swayed and muscled him back into a horizontal position. “Take it easy.”

  Ezra screwed his eyes up again. “Everything is spinning.”

  Kochran kept his hand in place on Ezra’s shoulder just in case he decided to try again. “Relax. Don’t rush yourself.”

  Though Ezra frowned, he nodded and relaxed, tension bleeding from his muscles. Confident Ezra would stay put for the time being, Kochran grabbed fresh clothes for himself, dropped some on the corner of the bed for Ezra and ducked into the shower area to wash up.

  Ten minutes later, Kochran went through the mindless task of fixing a fresh pot of coffee and flipping on the burner. His stomach had protested the lack of food during the middle of his shower. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten anything more than one of the protein bars stashed in his desk at the club. A supply that was quickly diminishing because he’d been spending more and more time at the club tending to the paperwork that came along with business ownership.

  He leaned against the counter with his second cup of coffee as he listened to breakfast cook. The silence of his home wasn’t as pressing today. Most days when he managed to drag himself out of bed, he flipped on the sound system he’d had installed when he’d bought his place. Today, the quiet burbling of the coffee maker and the sizzle of the butter in the frying pan were enough to soothe him. Then there was the fact he had an uninvited guest. Given the open floor plan he’d worked up when he’d bought the club—and the surrounding land, so he could live on property—he knew any kind of noise would be heard throughout the former missile silo, so he’d erred on the side of caution out of respect.

  He suspected there was more going on with Ezra than diabetic shock. He’d been so damn relieved when he’d realized Ezra was going to be all right. When he’d realized he’d known how to help him. The whole thing made Kochran want to punch a nearest wall. But he’d stopped using concrete to solve his problems a long time ago.

  As he flipped the eggs, he heard movement behind him. Ezra was shuffling over to the kitchen from the bedroom. He only wore the ill-fitting shorts Kochran had left for him, the insulin pump tucked into the waistband. The white patch of his injection site stood out against his taut abdomen. His face was still drawn, eyes bloodshot with dark circles smudging the skin underneath. As foolish as it seemed, Kochran had hoped all those things would miraculously vanish while he’d been fixing breakfast. He wanted Ezra to be a normal, healthy man who kept Noble House in touch with thousands of people across the world thanks to the internet.

  Kochran cleared his throat, dumped the last of the coffee into a second mug, dropped some cream in before handing it to Ezra and focused on the eggs. “Morning.”

  “Thanks.” Ezra winced as he sipped the coffee, but drank a second time. Then a third. “Now I know why the stuff at the club tastes like shit.” Ezra moved to the table and folded himself into a chair. He hovered over the coffee, closing his eyes as steam wafted around his face. In an instant, Ezra wasn’t the helpless man who’d slept in his bed.

  Kochran recognized the hard knot of desire that slapped at him and abruptly pushed it away. He cleared his throat again. “Coffee expert?”

  “Did some barista work in college. Easy way to make some extra funds to get groceries for the week. Drink enough bad coffee and you’ll drink anything. But now that I’m older and have a steady income, I don’t have to settle.” He sipped again. “This stuff is toxic. Could probably remove paint with it.”

  “Guess I’ve got a lead stomach.” Kochran turned back to the stove.

  “I know you like your sex rough, but damn, man, no reason to punish the eggs too.”

  Kochran looked down at the pan and noticed he’d burned the omelet. “Damn it.”

  He’d allowed himself to be distracted more than usual. Too many things keeping his mind occupied. His mother. Tory. Even banging on his drums hadn’t given him the usual clarity. The only thing he seemed to be able to make right in his life was the club.

  Ezra’s hand appeared in Kochran’s line of sight. “Give it to me. Can’t save this one, but I can whip you up something that won’t sit in your stomach for three days.”

  Kochran was so surprised, he handed over the spatula and stepped out of the way. He wasn’t going to complain about Ezra’s gesture because cooking had never been his strong suit. It was a miracle he hadn’t poisoned himself yet. He moved to fix another pot of coffee, but Ezra stopped him.

  “Sit down. Relax. Least I can do after you looking out for me.”

  Kochran started to protest, but after Ezra cracked an egg one-handed into the pan, he moved down the counter to quietly observe. Watching him from the side as he worked, Kochran found himself easily caught up in the fluid movements Ezra used to fix breakfast. It was also a covert way to look over the man’s physique. Notice the way Ezra’s shoulder muscles moved as he seamlessly shifted his efforts between the frying pan and the coffee maker. The sweeping planes of Ezra’s chest and abdomen, broken only by the pump and patch. The defined arms and legs. Such elegant naturalness.

  Kochran felt a stirring against his lounge pants. Having a half-dressed person a few feet away wasn’t an unusual occurrence. He owned a sex club where people played out their fetishes nightly. Naked bodies were a part of the gig. But this moment was different. More personal. Intimate. Yeah, he tended to gravitate toward women when it came to sex, but he’d never sworn off the beauty of a man who snagged his attention. That particular desire hadn’t risen in him for a long time.

  In truth, Kochran only had one requirement when it came to his choice of sexual partner: they had to be able to handle what he liked to dole out. Most of the submissives at the club took it easily, and more than a few came back to beg for more. Finding that in a setting outside of the club, though? That was the crux of his nonexistent love life.

  Ezra set a platter full of perfectly cooked eggs, golden-brown bacon and a few slices of toast in the center of the table. He retrieved two mugs of coffee and set one in front of Kochran before sliding into a chair on the opposite side of the table.

  “Hope family style is okay.” Ezra folded his legs up, propping his shins against the edge of the table.

  “It’s all going to the same place. Looks great. Thanks.” Kochran sipped the coffee. “Can’t believe this came from my machine.”

  Ezra wrapped his hands around his mug again and slowly inhaled the steam wafting up. That pang of something Kochran was growing all too familiar with clenched his gut again at the half-smile Ezra gave. Ezra finding pleasure in something so simple wrenched his heart.

  “You’re not going to let me eat all of this by myself, are you?”

  Ezra waved him on. “In a few minutes. Just trying to shake off the last of the haze.”

  Kochran helped himself to some eggs, a slice of bacon and piece of toast. “Oz thought you were drunk or high at first. I saw the pump and figured out what was going on. Lucky quite a few of us there have emergency training thanks to my club policy for that.” He gestured at Ezra’s waist with his fork. “Best friend in junior high had one of those. He for
got to check on his pump before coming to class one day, and went down like a rock. Diabetic ketoacidosis?”

  Ezra ran a hand over his face. “Yeah. Type one since I was a kid. Sorry. Let it get out of hand and I know better. And I’ll apologize now for not putting it on my application. I...don’t want it to be a burden on anyone. Have them treat me differently because of it.”

  The quiet way Ezra spoke signaled he didn’t need a lecture. Kochran shelved that conversation. “I didn’t think it was a good idea for you to be alone, so I brought you here.”

  “Where is here anyway? Some kind of warehouse?”

  “Former missile silo.” Kochran glanced around, understanding how the structure could be mistaken for an industrial building. His ceilings were nonexistent thanks to the soaring column. He’d left most of the storage tower untouched, remodeling only the bottom floor for the space he occupied. “Found it right after I bought the property and was trying to figure out where I wanted to build a house.”

  “Somehow I’m not surprised the control freak lives so close to the club.”

  Kochran hadn’t wanted to live at home, or anywhere near his parents. “Government cutbacks closed the base down and I saw an opportunity.”

  “From military installation to castle of sin.” Ezra shot Kochran a sly grin. “Lots of privacy and security, that’s for certain. You’ve done some nice work.” Ezra gestured to the space Kochran had allotted for a glassed-in shower, toilet and pedestal sink. “Spiffy-ass shower I’d like to take advantage of before I leave, if you don’t mind.”

  “Be my guest.” Kochran tried his best to forget the fact Ezra was once again going to be naked.

  “Saw my kit on the nightstand. Thanks.”

  Kochran had used the keys they’d found in Ezra’s pocket to grab the equipment for monitoring blood sugar stashed in the console of Ezra’s car. “Figured you were going to need it at some point.”

  “Saw enough of the inside of a hospital before I was diagnosed.” Ezra licked his lips before continuing. “I wasn’t a person then, a kid who just wanted to play with his friends on the playground. I was numbers and tests and logs and logs of keeping track of every single piece of food I ate, everything I drank.”

  “If you need to get checked out—”

  Ezra held up a hand. “I’ve had enough of being a specimen, thanks. Just be out of sorts for a day or so.” They sat in silence for a few minutes before Ezra took an egg and a few slices of bacon. “Had a bad run of days.”

  “Need to talk about it?”

  Ezra pushed away his untouched food. Kochran frowned, but bit his tongue. The last thing Ezra probably wanted was a lecture about his health. Given what he’d just said, he’d been hearing about it for as long as he’d been diagnosed with diabetes.

  “Some days are better than others. Lately...been tough. Everything is going to cave in on me if I don’t act quickly enough.” Ezra blew out a breath as he shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m sharing this with you.”

  Kochran decided not to speculate. “But you don’t want to stop.”

  Ezra took a long sip of his coffee, staring at the platter in the center of the table for a few minutes before continuing. “I know we’ve talked about the fact my wife died a few years ago, but I’ve kept a lot of it to myself.”

  “You weren’t ready to talk about her. I get it.”

  “Guess I’m ready now.” Ezra ran his hands over his face. “She had cervical cancer. Spread like a virus. We only had a few months from her initial diagnosis. She refused treatment right from the start. No long, drawn-out complications, so that’s something. Doctors didn’t think it would work anyway. Cancer was too damn aggressive.”

  “Swift for her, but not enough time to prepare you for your new reality.” Kochran pushed away his empty plate as the ghost of memories Ezra was being forced to relive filled the room. Kochran had known the basics, but hearing it firsthand was a reminder about the stark, cold reality of life.

  Ezra lowered his head. They stayed quiet for a few minutes until Kochran rose, snagged Ezra’s cup and topped off both of their mugs before he returned to the table. “You already know my sister was diagnosed with a heart defect as a kid. Been watching her die a little each day since then.”

  Ezra leaned back in his chair. Kochran understood a lot more about the man in the space of a few sentences and the weight pressing down on Ezra’s shoulders.

  “It just happened so fast. Like this out-of-control...event we knew was coming but couldn’t stop.” Ezra shook his head, pulled the plate back within reach and busied himself with the now-cold food. “Nora was upbeat the whole time. Like she accepted her fate from the start. Told us we needed to live the rest of our lives as though it was our last day. When she was dying, for Christ’s sake.”

  “Us?”

  Ezra blinked, shadows darkening his face. “What?”

  “You said she told us to live the rest of your lives like it is your last day. Who’s us?”

  Kochran realized he was prying, but he couldn’t stop. The blunder wasn’t a slip of the tongue. In the brief conversations about Ezra’s wife before, there hadn’t been a mention of someone else. Kochran could usually size someone up in a few seconds, but Ezra was dancing around something.

  The way his eyes glazed over when he talked about his painful past made Kochran want to cross the room to take him in his arms. He hadn’t felt that way toward anyone outside of the club setting in a long time. In truth, he wasn’t sure he’d ever encountered those emotions about anyone ever. The sensation was foreign and...wonderful.

  Ezra met Kochran’s gaze for a half second. He stood, grabbing the empty dishes to dump them in the sink. Kochran thought he was going to leave to avoid answering, but Ezra turned, leaning against the counter with his ankles crossed and his arms supporting him. His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed.

  “We...had a husband too. A triad. A happy one. So goddamn joyful about life, like we didn’t have a care in the world.” He fell silent again, but this time Kochran let the quiet hang in the air. “We were trying—we’d decided the three of us were ready to have a family.”

  The puzzle pieces clicked into place. “That’s how you found out about the cancer.”

  “Yeah,” Ezra responded quietly. “She was having difficulty conceiving. We thought a few treatments with an infertility doctor would take care of things.” And instead his world had crumbled around his feet. “Couple months later she was gone. Few weeks after that, so was he.”

  Kochran stood, fighting against the desire to blow the tenuous friendship of theirs out of the fucking water. “Sorry to hear that. I could tell you I understand, but you’d know I’m lying. If you want some time to get your head back on straight, take whatever you need. The website stuff will be there. Madeline seems to be competent enough to handle things.”

  “I like being busy. Keeps my head engaged.” Ezra pointed toward the bedroom area. “Gonna take that shower now, if you don’t mind.”

  Kochran forced himself to clean up the few remaining plates and wipe down the counters while Ezra showered. When the shower cut off, he stalled for another few minutes before moving back to the bedroom area. He was determined he wasn’t going to let Ezra go so easily, not when he had the power to offer assistance. Kochran did his best not to think about all the reasons why he needed to offer Ezra a hand.

  Thankfully Ezra came around the partition separating the shower from the bedroom wearing the clothes he’d been in last night. He avoided eye contact as he gathered his shoes and the kit.

  “I could use a hand with a few things at the club,” Kochran offered.

  Ezra’s gaze flicked over Kochran’s body for a split second, but it had been enough for Kochran to see the instant flare of interest. That spark was enough to let Kochran know what kind of thoughts were playing out in Ezra’s mind. Kochran’s dick twitched in response.
Definitely some curiosity there.

  “What do you need?” Ezra tried to look everywhere but directly at Kochran. Under other circumstances, Kochran would have preened and taken advantage of the situation, but it was a bad idea on so many levels.

  “Saint has been hounding me to expand the tech at the club by venturing into the realm of virtual reality. He has some kind of vision I don’t understand, because I thought that’s what you were doing.”

  “No.” Ezra stood up straighter, obviously interested. “The sim now is just a user sitting at a computer directing an avatar. Virtual reality is immersive. It would certainly level up Noble House in the hybrid aspect.”

  “As long as you understand, that’s all that matters. He gave me a few names, but I haven’t had a chance to decide how to handle it with everything else going on. Think you could carve out some time and give me your thoughts?”

  “Wouldn’t Saint be a better choice?”

  Kochran didn’t miss Ezra’s skepticism. “He’s got enough to deal with right now because of the wedding, and this doesn’t deal with security. He was offering suggestions, as you know he tends to do. You can interface with him if you’re more comfortable and then have him present his findings to me.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Kochran located his pants, dug out his wallet and handed Ezra the slip of paper with Saint’s neat list of names. Ezra didn’t look as he tucked it into his front pocket. He barely glanced at Kochran as he tied his sneakers. The uncomfortable silence settled around them again.

  Kochran left the area before he made an ass of himself. He tried not to think about the fact he needed the distance just as much as Ezra did.

  He’d sensed Ezra had quickly been approaching an area he didn’t want to discuss any longer. Nothing could change the fact he’d had the rug pulled out from under him when his wife died and his husband left. But Kochran sensed the many, many unresolved emotions Ezra was trying to deal with.