by Austin Bates
The monitors in the room beeped steadily and Eli forced his breathing to match their gentle pattern. Van was fine. Van was there, and his temperature was 99.2 according to the green blips on the screen behind him.
Carefully, Eli slid his fingers under Van's palm, his knees giving out as he felt the heat radiating off of that rough skin. He sat down heavily in the uncomfortable chair pulled up to the side of the bed. "Jesus," he said, pressing his forehead against the rough blanket next to Van's shoulder. "Jesus."
Slowly he became aware of being exhausted, more than his short workout this morning should have made him. He was also hungry, his stomach rumbling in counterpoint to the beeping monitors. In his pocket, his phone went off again, vibrating against the arm of the chair.
Fishing it out with his free hand, Eli didn't bother lifting his head to glance at it.
'Kim's on her way. –Nat. PS. Tell Donuts he's missing his workout.'
Eli laughed, and a drop of water splashed onto the screen. He blinked, and two more fell, the world going blurry. His phone slipped out of his limp hand and clattered to the floor.
"You're okay," he said, gripping Van's hand. "Holy shit, you're okay."
It could have been so much worse, and Natalie knew it. Eli had been there the day she got the call that her baby brother had been shot. He'd been working in a convenience store to help pay for his college classes; the first of her family to go. They'd all been so proud of him, and then some crackhead tweaked out on a little bit of everything had decided that JJ's life was worth a $.99 pack of candy.
That could have been Van. He could have died, and he never would have known how much Eli loved him.
Eli froze, choking on a sob as he stared at the floor. He couldn't already... It had only been... He wasn't supposed to fall for guys so easily.
"I'm in love with you," he said, lifting his head enough to stare at Van's face.
One of the machines beeped out of time, and Eli's heart jumped into his throat. He clutched at Van's hand like he could keep anything from going wrong if he just held him hard enough. The machine blipped again, the soothing line of heartbeats disrupted as the peaks and valleys came too close together.
Eli's stomach twisted and he hovered his finger over the nurse call button. Surely if something were going wrong, the machines would alert someone? He forced himself to relax his grip on Van's hand. Everything was okay.
Van groaned.
On his feet in an instant, Eli held his breath as Van shifted, his eyes fluttering. There was a long pause as Van peered blearily around the room, his pupils wide and unfocused. When he caught sight of Eli though, he steadied.
"Eli? You look like an angel, baby," Van said, the words slurring together as he attempted a lopsided leer.
Eli smiled, another tear escaping down his cheek. Just like Van to be hitting on him even when he was drugged to the gills. "I love you."
Van's eyes went wide as the words echoed between them, and Eli's heart stopped.
"Oh," Van said, frowning.
"I'm sorry." Eli pulled back, but Van had a surprisingly tight grip and wasn't letting him go.
"It's okay," Van said, his eyes sliding drunkenly away, bouncing around the room and then drifting back. "You're a good dream," he added, trying to reach across and pat Eli's hand, but held up by the many wires attached to his other side.
Eli swallowed. "I'm not a dream."
Sighing, Van pointed at him, eyes narrowed unevenly. "That's what the dreams say." He flopped back on the bed with a groan. "It's not that you're not a nice Eli, but the real Eli, he's real, you know? You're both hot, but he's got that little scar on his lip, and I don't know what it's from, but I want to lick it."
Slightly hysterical, Eli laughed, tears dripping down his face. "It's from a bike accident when I was 14, and you can lick it if you want."
"Can't lick the real Eli." Van pouted, his lips pushing out as he slid down the bed a little. "He's a tease. Kiss and run, that's Eli."
"Kiss and run?" Eli said, leaning over the bed. "Have you ever kissed dream Eli?"
"Yeah," Van said, his eyes crossing as he tried to focus on Eli's lips.
"Did it feel like this?" Eli pressed their lips together. It wasn't a great kiss. Van tasted like day old roadkill and rotten mint, and Eli's lips were salty with sweat and tears. It was the best kiss Eli had ever had. Van's tongue traced his lips, lingering on the tiny scar that Eli had forgotten was even there, and he groaned as Eli scraped his teeth gently along Van's prickly skin.
When he pulled back, Van was staring at him, his eyes focused and aware. "Eli?"
"Yeah."
"What are you doing here?"
"You got shot," Eli said, glaring at him.
"Yeah." Van ducked his head, his gray skin flushing red.
"I'm mad at you." Eli settled himself into the chair, refusing to let go of Van's hand.
"Sorry," Van said, glancing up at him through his lashes. "I'll make it up to you."
"I'll hold you to that," Eli said with a grin, leaning forward to steal another kiss. Van met him halfway, his lips twitching in a smile as they playfully tussled for control.
Eli was so deep in the kiss that he almost didn't notice when the flash went off.
Chapter Nine
"How many times do I have to tell you people? No fucking comment." Van pounded the nurse call button, glaring at the reporter who was shoving a recorder in his face.
"But certainly, Sgt. Harris, you'll want to make some kind of statement about your relationship with Eli Thompson? There's all sorts of misinformation out there, and you'll no doubt want to set the record straight."
"No comment," he growled, tempted to chuck the remote control at her head.
"Do you have anything to say about the picture of the two of you kissing that's been all over the newspapers?" she asked, shoving an 8x10" glossy in his face.
It was a good picture, he had to admit. Eli was very photogenic and the two-day stubble on Van's cheeks masked the worst of the bruising and made him look less sickly.
Taking advantage of how the woman was juggling too many things in one hand, he snatched the paper away from her, tucking it carefully under his pillow. "No. Comment," he said through gritted teeth, baring his teeth in a smile as two security guards appeared in the doorway.
"Sorry, Sgt. Harris," the first one said as he caught the reporter by the arm. "There's forty or fifty of them downstairs, and this one got through while the PD was still setting up their barriers."
"Our readers have a right to hear this story," the reporter snapped as they pulled her out of the room, rolling their eyes.
"You're going home today, right?" the second guard asked, leaning in the doorway as the reporter's voice echoed down the hallway.
"Eli said he'd come pick me up," Van said, pulling himself more upright. "Maybe I should have let Miller take me to the casino." Or, God forbid, let Papa come and fuss him to death.
He'd been fully prepared to have to talk his parents down from camping at his bedside, but they were both in a creative phase right now. They'd been glad he was okay and promised to visit him as soon as the paint was dry on Papa's latest masterpiece. Jesse had offered to come, but Amy and Ben both had classes, and Lion would be more trouble than he was worth. He was completely confident that, if he'd needed them, they would have dropped everything, even Solomon. As it was, it was minor enough that he'd rather they save their visits for when he could show them a good time.
Besides, the last thing he needed was to set his entire family on Eli without any preparation.
The guard snorted. "Your Captain called earlier, there's reporters waiting at your house and the casino. With that picture out there, they were going to make a fuss no matter how you did it." He flashed a wry grin as Van cursed eloquently, then straightened. "Speak of the devil."
Van sat up, trying to see down the hallway and straining his stitches in the process. "Shit."
"Stop that," Eli said, hurrying into the room and
catching his shoulder as he tipped in the bed. "You're not supposed to strain your stitches."
"It's been two weeks. It should be healed by now," he grumbled, not protesting as Eli tapped the button to dispense pain medication. The burn in his side disappeared under the wash of warmth that made his muscles go liquid against the sheets. "You look beautiful," he said, staring at Eli blearily. "Better than me. I look like road kill."
Eli rubbed the back of his neck, his ears flushing red as the security guard laughed.
"I think you'll be safe enough up here till the doctor gets around to letting you out," he said, nodding to them both and sauntering away.
"I saw the reporter," Eli said, leaning down to press a kiss to Van's temple. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Van said, tilting his head back for a real kiss, his arms too heavy at the moment to do more. "I stole her picture."
Eli chuckled against his lips, his breath tasting like coffee. Van chased after him. He wasn't allowed coffee for another week.
"You stole her picture?"
Sheepishly, Van nudged his pillow aside to show the glossy paper; Eli threw his head back and laughed. "It's a good picture," Van said, pouting.
"It's a great picture, but I'm kind of sick of seeing it," Eli said, pressing one last kiss to Van's pushed out lip. "It's on every website and news broadcast about the Championships."
"You know that's what started this mess in the first place, right?" Natalie said, leaning around the doorframe.
Eli straightened up slowly, rolling his eyes, but Van frowned. "It's not going to cause problems for you, is it?"
"Nah. Legally they can't, and Talbot has cracked down on omega hate in the matches the last five years." Eli shrugged. "It'll be a big story for a while, like when Kevin's husband got pregnant, the first time. Now that they're on their third child, nobody cares."
There was a knock on the door, and the doctor bustled in before either of them could continue. "Sgt. Harris," the man said, glancing over the both of them. Dr. Morrow was younger, and Van constantly marveled at the fact that the guy was apparently a specialist in violent wound repair. "Let's get you out of here, shall we? Before the director finds out there's a news van parked in her spot."
Van laughed, then hissed as it pulled his stitches. "I'd apologize, but I have absolutely nothing to do with that mess," he said.
Morrow eyed him over the top of the clipboard. "The stitches will probably pull a little for the next week or so. I've already got a prescription for painkillers being filled. Knowing cops like I do, I doubt you'll use them, but take them with you just in case. It's better to have them and not need them than to have to call the overnight number cursing in Ancient Egyptian from pain."
"We'll keep an eye on him," Natalie said, cheerfully. "How soon till he can exercise?"
Eying her nervously, Dr. Morrow paused. "Moderate exercise is good for the wound at this point. Moderate," he repeated as she clapped her hands together. "Anything that hurts is not moderate."
"Good," she said, cheerfully, "cause Donuts here has missed his workouts."
"I got shot," Van whined, already dreading going to the gym.
"Do I look like I care about your excuses?" Natalie asked, resting her hands on her hips.
"Alright," the doctor said loudly, leaning over to start unhooking wires. "I think you're ready to go. Let me just get a nurse with the wheelchair."
"Already done, Doc," Natalie said, pulling a wheelchair into view. "The PD cleared a side door for us. If we're lucky, we'll miss all the reporters." She gave Van a glare that said he'd better shut up and get in the chair.
Biting his cheek, Van smiled and swung his feet around to get up. "Hold this for me, will you?" he asked Eli, handing him the picture as he lowered himself into the chair. His legs were surprisingly weak after two weeks of lying in a hospital bed, and it felt good to stretch them out.
"I've got him," Eli said to Natalie as they maneuvered the chair out of the room.
"You going to be my nurse?" Van asked. "You'd be a very sexy nurse. I'll buy you the outfit."
They passed the nurses' station and the woman behind it rolled her eyes, hiding her smile behind her cup of coffee.
"If you can find an outfit that will fit me," Eli said, "I'll wear it for you." Van threw his hands in the air and cheered as the elevator closed behind them.
Natalie's rental car was parked in the loading bay at one side of the hospital, and they were able to get Van into the car before a stray reporter wandered around the corner. Natalie hopped into the driver's seat and locked the doors before the guy could do more than shout in surprise. It was fortunate that Natalie was skilled with driving around the press because a whole herd of camera-wielding folk came pouring around the corner as she pulled into the larger parking lot.
"Now you're glad I got the extra tinting, huh?" she said to Eli as he slouched in the backseat, his head propped on Van's shoulder. "No more 'But Natalie, you look like a drug dealer,' bullshit."
Eli flipped her off, tucking his face into Van's neck and sighing. His breath feathered across the sensitive skin there, and Van's hair stood on end. He'd had plenty of time while he was in the hospital to imagine the many things he could do with his ridiculously sexy boyfriend. Every time his heart rate picked up, one of the nurses came to check on him. It had been inconvenient, to say the least.
Eli had been back every day, looking delicious and tempting and teasing him with barely-there kisses. Now they were going to be alone together, and Van was going to take advantage of every second. If Eli was willing. He'd seemed uncomfortable with going too far in the hospital but, then again, there were nurses everywhere.
With the painkillers swimming through his system, he'd be happy just cuddling on the couch and talking if that was what Eli wanted.
They'd have to figure it out when they got back to Eli's room. Van sighed and shifted to a more comfortable position. Eli turned his head, brushing a kiss along the tendons of his neck. Shifting again, Van tried to ignore how his cock twitched at the sensation, but it must have been obvious because Eli smirked against his shoulder. Pressing one broad, hot palm against Van's thigh, he hummed cheerfully as Van huffed out a surprised breath.
Maybe there was more than cuddling in his future after all. He caught Natalie watching him in the mirror and stuck his tongue out at her, lacing his fingers with Eli's. She laughed and turned up the music.
The casino was too big and busy for the reporters to get much of a foothold, but they made it into the elevator without incident. The painkillers were starting to wear off, and the burning in Van's side helped him get his erection under control. Eli didn't make it easy, pressing up against him in the back of the elevator.
"Your muscles are so pretty," Van said, running his hand over Eli's arm. "Why do they let you wear clothes?"
"You're high," Eli replied, his dimples peeking out as he grinned.
"Maybe a little." Van leaned in for a kiss, humming contentedly when Eli immediately obliged him. He still tasted like coffee, with a hint of something sweet in the background. It sent a thrill down Van's spine.
"You're both ridiculous," Natalie said, stomping out of the elevator and into the suite. Her duffel bag was waiting by the door, and she shouldered it as soon as they were inside. "I'm heading to the gym," she said, giving them a salute. "Kim and I tested the soundproofing here and, if you keep your damned door closed, we shouldn't hear a damned thing." She glared at them both. "I don't want to hear a damned thing, are we clear?"
Van giggled into his hand, leaning heavily against Eli's side. "No promises."
She sighed and cursed him in exasperated Spanish, "You have 48 hours, Donuts. I expect you back in my gym and ready to work."
"Yes, Mom."
Rolling her eyes, she stomped out of the room.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Van found himself pressed back against the wall. Eli fit himself against Van tightly, gazing at him as they shared breath.
With a goofy s
mile, Van leaned forward, closing the distance between them to steal a kiss. Eli obliged enthusiastically, running his tongue over the seam of Van's lips until they parted for him to enter. Startled, Van teased his tongue along the roof of Eli's mouth with a pleased groan. Eli had never taken the initiative in their kisses like that before, but he was all in favor of it.
Reaching for Eli with arms that didn't particularly want to obey, Van slid his hands over that rugged chest, tracing the lines of muscle. Eli caught his hands and pressed them to the wall, leaning into the kiss harder. Van groaned, pulling back enough to nip at Eli's lower lip.
"You're so fucking gorgeous," he said, panting as he pressed hard kisses against Eli's jaw. The stubble made his lips tingle, and he wanted to feel it all over his body.
Eli's neck and shoulders were rock hard muscle as he dug his teeth into the sensitive skin under Van's chin. "I can't wait to get your big cock in me," he said, his voice muffled and flat from the angle. Leaning back in and seizing Van's lips, he deepened the kiss until Van was squirming, trying to get some pressure on his cock.
"Fuck," Van said, breaking the kiss to pant against Eli's lips.
"That's the idea," Eli said, the wry twist of his lips fading a moment later. "I can't wait to nail you to the bed," he said, his eyes sliding away from Van's.
In the back of Van's mind, a suspicion of concern trickled through, and he opened his mouth to suggest that they discuss a few things first. Eli dropped his hand to fumble at his belt though, and all he could do was moan, the thought sliding away.
"Maybe we should take this upstairs," he said when they paused to breathe a moment later. His belt was hanging loose around his hips, but Eli was having trouble getting his fly open with one hand.
"If you're thinking about walking upstairs right now, then I'm not doing this right," Eli said, pressing him back into the wall. He was slotted tightly against Van's chest but kept their lower bodies from pressing together. It was just like Eli, thinking of Van's wound, but he could take a little roughness. He just had to prove it.
