“Babe, please,” Grainger whispered and he sounded like, like, like he was in pain?
“What’s wrong?”
“Jesus, those sounds you make. I can’t help but picture you making them…..just….I need you to stop, okay, please?”
“Oh, um, because you’re getting, um, excited?” he said with a blush so pronounced even he could feel it.
“No,” Grainger said as he pressed his lips to Sy’s temple, “I passed excited about three moans ago. Now I’m hard enough to hammer nails.”
Oh, Jesus
Suddenly he wished that damn tray would disappear.
He swallowed hard, “Can I….”
Grainger interrupted him with a spoon to the lips, “Sy, you’re recovering from a major injury. Hell, you almost died, babe. As much as I’d really, really like to pursue this now, it has to wait.”
He blushed again, “I know, you’re right. Any chance you could write off this conversation to my being loopy from pain meds?” he said with a smile.
Grainger laughed, “Sure, babe. Now, let’s talk sleeping.”
“Okay.”
“The guestroom is directly across the hall but I’d feel better if I was closer to you so I could hear if something was wrong. So, I’d like to set up a blanket and pillow on the floor next to you and sleep there if you’re okay with that?”
“No.”
“No?”
He shook his head, “No. You are not sleeping on the floor nor are you sleeping in the guest room. You’re sleeping here, next to me, in your own bed.”
“But what if I bump you during the night?”
“You won’t.”
“How can you be so sure, Sy?”
“I just am. Trust me. I’m super smart, remember?” he said with a grin.
Grainger laughed, “Yes, yes you are. Now it’s time for meds and sleep, okay? Kelly and Cole should be here soon with your stuff. We’ll set it up in the office with my stuff, okay?”
“Um, okay. Where’s that?”
“The room right next door. Upstairs here we have my room and office and across the hall is guest room and guest bathroom.”
“Okay but I don’t want to put you out,” he said and then he blushed when he realized how that sounded.
Grainger smirked, “The putting out will have to wait until after you’re better. Here, take this,” he said, shaking a pill from the bottle and handing it to Sy along with a bottle of water.
He swallowed the pill and then very slowly slid a little lower in the bed, sighing at he closed his eyes. “Do you think I could maybe clean up a bit later on? I feel grungy and gross and I hate the smell of dried blood.”
“I’m sure we can figure something out when you wake up.”
The doorbell rang.
“That must be them. Get some rest, Sy, okay?”
His eyes were already drooping as the pain medication worked its way through his system, “Yeah. Thanks.”
Grainger leaned forward and pressed his lips to his forehead, “Always,” he whispered.
As Sy drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t help but hope that was true.
Twenty
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Vaughn
His eyes flicked open to a room lit only by dawn peeking through a tiny slit in the curtains. It was early. But that wasn’t what had woken him.
No.
What had woken him was the fact that he was alone in the bed…and it was cold.
“Cay?” he said as he rolled to his back. He glanced at the bathroom, hoping that he’d find the door closed and with a light underneath it.
But that wasn’t the way his luck went.
The door stood wide open, the darkness inside mocking him.
He sighed as his arm went over his eyes.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered to the empty room.
He really thought they had both felt whatever this was between them. Apparently, they weren’t the same page.
Story of his fucking life.
He felt something on his arm, so he lifted it and stared.
Then he frowned.
Then he wiped his eyes.
Crying? He was fucking crying? Over a guy?
He’d never, ever done that.
The only time he’d ever done that was when Casey went missing.
But now he was crying over Caysun, a man he barely knew.
“Fuck this shit,” he said as he angrily swiped at his tears.
Tears that didn’t seem to want to stop.
“No,” he said as he flew up out of the bed.
“No, motherfucker,” he said as he stabbed his legs into his pants and zipped up. “You do not get to worm your way into my heart only to fucking leave.”
He made sure his keys and phone were in one pocket and his cuffs were in the other. Because once he found Caysun Rourke - and he would find him - he was going to drag the fucker back and cuff him to the motherfucking bed.
He shoved his bare feet into his untied boots and then angrily pushed his head through his t-shirt.
“Goddamn it,” he said as he flung open the door, slammed it behind him and stalked to his car.
Arms were shoved through the armholes in his shirt and then he grabbed his keys and popped open the lock.
As he opened the door and glanced back, his eyes landed on Caysun…...sitting in one of the chairs from their room that he had pulled out and set against the outside wall. He took a sip from a large coffee as he stared at Vaughn then he pulled a croissant from a bag between his feet that obviously held more of the sweet treats.
“Going somewhere?” Cay said after he’d chewed and swallowed.
“Not sure yet,” he said as he closed and re-locked his door. “That for me?” he said, nodding at the large coffee in the holder at Cay’s feet.
Cay looked down at it, “I imagine so.”
He walked over and flopped down in the other chair that Cay had dragged out.
How had he not noticed that both chairs were missing from the room?
Cay handed him both the coffee and the paper bag.
“Cream and sugar are in the bag. Wasn’t sure how you take your coffee.”
He took a sip then leaned back in his chair.
His hand started to shake as the adrenaline wore off, and he tried to mask it by setting his cup on the arm of the chair.
Deep down he knew he hadn’t fooled anyone.
“Pretty sunrise,” Cay said.
He frowned as he turned his head to look at Cay, “Huh? What?”
Cay lifted his cup towards the multihued sky, “Sunrise. It’s always been my favorite part of the day.”
A sound had Cay’s head turning to look at him. It took him a moment to realize that the sound had come from him….and it was a sob.
“I thought you’d left,” he blurted out.
“I’m sorry,” Cay whispered.
“I don’t understand why it’s hurting so much. How are you already in here?” he mumbled as he angrily thumped his chest.
Cay reached over to grab his hand, “I don’t know, babe. But you’re in here too,” he said, pointing a finger at his heart with the hand that held the coffee cup.
“Am I? Did you think about leaving?”
Cay thought about lying…..for about half a second.
“Yes.”
Vaughn’s eyes squeezed shut and he turned away.
“Not for the reason you’re thinking though.”
“No?” he whispered.
“I didn’t think about leaving to get away from you, Vaughn. I thought about leaving to keep you safe.”
“If you do, you better find a place that I’ll never, ever find you, Cay.”
His head slowly turned until his gaze was locked with Caysun’s as he continued, “Because if I do, it won’t be pretty. For either of us.”
“Noted.”
He nodded then reached into the bag to pull out a chocolate croissant.
Their shared silence cocooned
them as they finished their breakfast and watched the rising sun.
Twenty-One
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sylas
Sylas was having the most amazing dream. He was walking on the beach, hand in hand, with Grainger. Barefoot and wearing nothing but a pair of boardshorts, the man was more than a whole lot of sexy. Their hands were linked together as they walked just at the water’s edge. And the best thing about it?
Sylas felt normal, like he wasn’t afraid of anything. And wasn’t that just an amazing feeling.
Dream Grainger pulled him to a stop, wrapped his arm about his waist and whispered, “Sy,” just before he pressed their lips together.
He groaned into Grainger’s mouth.
“Sy,” Grainger said a little louder.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that Grainger couldn’t be saying his name at the same time he was swallowing Sy’s tongue, but he really didn’t fucking care.
“Sy!” his name was said with a tone of urgency to it.
He blinked his eyes open only to find a worried looking Grainger staring down at him.
“Are you okay? Are you in pain? You were moaning and thrashing.”
Oh my god. How was he supposed to explain this without embarrassing the hell out of himself?
“I, I’m fine,” he whispered.
Grainger’s eyes narrowed, “Sy. If you’re hurting, you need to tell me.”
“I’m okay,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing like hell he could just disappear.
“Sy,” Grainger said again, now sounding like an annoyed parent.
That was more than he could take. His eyes flew open and he glared at Grainger, “I was having a dream, okay? A sexy, hot dream! Thank you very much for forcing me to tell you and embarrassing the shit out of myself.”
He squeezed his eyes shut again, unable or unwilling to see what emotions might be swirling in them.
He didn’t even open them when he felt the bed dip next to his hip, indicating that Grainger had sat down.
“Tell me,” Grainger whispered.
He gasped as he looked at Grainger, “I can’t do that!”
“Why not?”
“Because dreams are like wishes on birthday candles, if I tell you it won’t come true.”
Grainger smile sparkled in his eyes, “Is that right?”
He nodded.
“Okay. How about this, was I in it?”
He dipped his chin in a nod.
“And you?”
Another nod.
“And we were together?”
“Oh yes,” he said on a sighing exhale.
“Then that’s all I need to know. Now, how about a bath?”
“Oh, um, yeah, that would be nice.”
“Okay,” Grainger said as he walked towards the bathroom.
He heard the water turn on and then Grainger was back in the doorway and he was…..pulling off his shirt.
“I’m going to keep the water level low enough so we don’t get your incision wet, okay?”
He tried not to stare, he really did. But there was all of that………
Skin! Miles of creamy skin.
And ink! He had a some sort of tribal tattoo that went from the top of his right pec, over his shoulder and who knows how much more was on his back.
And, holy fuck, nipple piercings. Small gold hoops hung from two nipples so perfect looking, he couldn’t have stopped his tongue from sticking out to wet his lips if he tried. It was as if his tongue wanted to try to reach those perfect peaks from across the room.
And hair! Not too much. Just the right amount of silky black hair that lay flat over his pecs and in a thin trail down to the waistband of his low-hanging sweatpants.
“Sy?” Grainger’s voice managed to stop him from drooling…..barely.
Oh right, he’d asked a question. “Okay. But, um, why are you taking your shirt off?”
Grainger frowned at the t-shirt now in his hand, “Uh, I don’t wear clothes in the bath, babe.”
All the breath left his body. He swallowed several times to try to find his voice, “Y-y-y-you? I thought I was the one bathing.”
“You are. But I can’t risk you falling or hurting yourself, Sy. And it’s easier for me to wash your hair if I’m in the water with you,” he said as he bent over, sliding his pants down to his ankles.
Holy fuck, he just slid his pants down to his ankles.
Grainger’s head popped up and he looked at Sy, “You’re okay with that, right? I mean, nothing’s going to happen.”
He felt like his heart just plummeted to his feet. Of course, nothing would happen. What the fuck was he thinking? Afterall, he was, well, Sy and Grainger was a fucking Greek god.
Sy, you’re such an idiot, his brain scolded.
Then he just about swallowed his tongue when Grainger stood back up to his full imposing height and, without any sense of fear or embarrassment at being busk-ass naked, he walked across the room until he was next to the bed.
Holy fucking drool, the man’s perfection didn’t stop. He was thick and long, with a tongue-worthy vein running down the top...and he was uncut, with a wide head hiding behind silky smooth skin, An image of the commercial with the owl and the tootsie pop and the ‘how many licks does it take’ commentary suddenly popped into his head because, damn, he really wanted to find out.
“Sy?” Grainger whispered.
He blinked his eyes a few times before his brain caught up with the fact that Grainger was now sitting on the bed right next to him. That’s right. The man’s perfect, naked body was. RIGHT. NEXT. TO. HIM.
His fingers twitched, just begging him to reach over and touch.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he blurted out.
Grainger smiled as he pushed Sy’s hair back from his forehead, “I think you’re really fucking beautiful too, babe.”
He snorted a laugh, “You haven’t seen me naked yet.”
Grainger frowned, “I hope you don’t think I’m that shallow and superficial, Sy.”
“Oh, I don’t, of course not. It’s just that I most definitely do not have,” he waved his hand at Grainger’s body, “that.”
Grainger looked down at himself, “What? A tattoo?”
“Yeah, and…”
“Nipples pierced?”
“Yeah and….”
“Chest hair?”
He sighed. He was going to have to say it, he really was. Well, Grainger would find out in a minute anyways. “Your um,” his eyes glanced down because, nope, he couldn’t say it.
“My dick?”
“Yeah”
“Is there something wrong with it?”
“Fuck no. It’s thick and juicy and big, it’s really fucking big.”
“Huh. Nobody’s ever said I was big before. I think it’s pretty average.”
“That’s average????” he said with a squeak. “Who the fuck have you been with?”
“Just regular blokes.”
He snorted again when Grainger’s British snuck out, “Regular blokes with humongous dicks, apparently.”
Grainger frowned again as he looked away, “No, I, uh, how do I say this?” he said, running his fingers through his hair. He looked back at Sy, “I’ve never cared what was between someone’s legs, Sy. I’m more attracted to a person’s mind and their heart.”
He groaned, “Then I’m toast.”
“Are you fucking kidding me,” Grainger growled as he stood up and began pacing.
Pacing. And swaying. Pacing. And swaying. Yep. His dick was swinging from side to side as he walked. Like a metronome. Back and forth. Side to side.
If he wasn’t careful, Sy was going to be hypnotized by Grainger’s dick.
He probably already was.
“I’ve never been naked in front of a man with the lights on,” he blurted.
Grainger froze, thank fucking god, “What?”
“I’ve,” he stopped when Grainger held up his hand, “
I heard you,” he said as he sat down again, “I’m just wondering why? You’re beautiful, Sy. Why would you be ashamed of your body?”
He smiled sadly, “That’s nice of you to say, Grainger, but you haven’t seen the entire thing.”
Fuck. Was he really going to do this? Questions. He hated the fucking inevitable questions. Questions that he couldn’t answer.
Fuck it.
He wished he could be all dramatic right now and do it himself, but he wasn’t so nervous that he couldn’t recognize his limitations due to his injuries.
“Take them off,” he said.
“What?”
“Take my pants off, Grainger. And help me get my shirt off, okay?”
“Ooookay.”
They started with the shirt, one arm at a time and then slowly working it up his body and over his head. This part wasn’t so bad, because he only had one small scar on his chest.
Grainger saw it though. He saw it and then looked at Sy with a raised eyebrow in question.
“M-m-m-my pants?” he whispered, trying to cling to the tiny bit of strength that he seemed to find when he was with Grainger.
He rocked his ass side to side as Grainger pulled, until the hospital pants he’d been given slid down to his thighs.
For several agonizingly long seconds neither of them moved or made a sound. But he could feel Grainger’s eyes on the permanent marks.
He braced himself for the inevitable.
“Do they hurt?” Grainger whispered.
“I don’t know how I got them! I don’t remember!” he blurted and then Grainger’s words finally seeped past his muddled ears, “Wait, what?”
“Do they hurt?”
He automatically reached down with to try to cover the embarrassing marks, but Grainger stilled his hands, “Don’t.”
This was so different from any reaction he’d ever gotten that he didn’t know what to do with it. His fingers began playing with the edge of the sheet, “Um, they only hurt if I’m out in the sun too long or in really hot water.”
“Baths and hot tubs?”
He shook his head, “Those are usually fine.”
“Can, can I touch them?”
He frowned. Why in the hell would Grainger want to touch the ugly things? Still, he had asked. Sy raised one shoulder in a shrug, “I guess.”
And then the breath left his body when Grainger leaned down and began pressing feather-light kisses to each one of those burn marks.
Whiteout Conditions Page 8
