them. “And what’s a few feedings? It wasn’t so bad. We’ll just have to plan it for a time when you’re not on tour and I can work it to not work night ops for a while. Do you blame Mum? She loves the wee things.”
“Then she can have more of her own,” Forest grumbled back. His mind was a bit upside down, torn from its moorings from jet lag, and while his lust was more than willing to tackle Connor down on the huge feather bed set on the bedroom’s long wall, his body didn’t think he’d have the energy to do more than just curl up against Con’s warm length and fall asleep. Sighing in relief when Connor swung his bag up from the ground and onto the bed, Forest muttered in what he hoped was a conciliatory tone, “I just think we’re good with the two we’ve got. I mean, one for you and one for me. At least at a time. If there’s three, then someone’s left out a bit, right?”
“You’re talking to someone who grew up in a house where there was always a set of free hands,” Connor admitted sheepishly. “How about if we talk about this after you get a shower, and I’ll put some tea on? Auntie Doreen said she’d left us a lot of food, and if I know her, there’s pots of cooked food in the fridge we can just heat up. Probably a good stew thick enough to stick to our ribs if you want it.”
“I’ll take anything I don’t have to chew that hard on,” Forest admitted with a sigh. “I don’t know if I have the energy to do more than gum at a spoonful of mashed potatoes.”
“I could chew it for you first. Like a wee bird.”
“And spit it into my mouth?” He made a disgusted face, scraping his tongue across his teeth at Con. “I love you, but God fucking no.”
The shower felt good. Too damned good. Hot water on his aching body was a mistake. The ease of tightness in Forest’s muscles slipped him too close to the edge of sleepy, and after a few minutes of standing beneath the steaming showerhead to rinse off, he reluctantly shut off the hot water and braced himself for the cold.
“Fuck!” The icy bite stung, and Forest stood there for as long as he could take it… or at least until the shower door was jerked open and his husband grabbed him by the arms to pull him out.
“You daft idiot,” Con scolded, holding a wet, shivering Forest against him. “The water’s well fed—”
“Really? Because it seems fucking hungry as shit to me right now. It ate my skin off,” Forest chattered while Connor wrapped an enormous towel around him. “Can you check the shower? Pretty sure I just froze my dick off. It’s probably on the floor. Maybe they can stitch it back on.”
“God, I love you.” Chuckling, Con began to rub the feeling back into Forest’s skin, and the tingling sensation quickly turned to a prickly heat. “It’s winter. The water comes from a well. Underground. Don’t run it without some hot water if you’re going to shower, okay? Go get some clothes and come out for some tea.”
The living room was still toasty when he finally emerged, swathed in one of Con’s old SFPD sweatshirts and a pair of joggers. Thick wool socks covered his feet, but Forest still wasn’t sure he could feel his toes. He shuffled over to the couch, flopped down next to Connor, and sighed when his husband handed him a steaming mug of what smelled like a bracing black tea with lots of sugar.
The first sip was as heavenly as the beginning of his shower, and the kiss he got immediately after sealed the whole Pearly Gates and angelic choir singing deal for him. Pulling his legs up, he ducked his head when Connor swung his arm over, then snugged up against Con’s side. Another sip of tea and the world slowly steadied, leaving him content.
A bit of cold rolled off the long glass pane overlooking the churning seas beyond, and what little light they had remaining of the day was fleeing quickly, swallowed up by the storm and the creeping dusk. The thick draperies on either side of the window probably would take care of the slight chill, but Forest didn’t mind the nip occasionally reaching him. The storm was too gorgeous to shut away, and Connor loved