but finally, as I’m followed by an angrily squawking nurse, I throw the curtain back and look into the startled eyes of the man I love. He’s crumpled and dirty, and his face is pale and creased with lines of pain, but he’s here, and so am I.
Before he can say anything, I go quickly to the bed and fold myself into him. His arms come up to hold me, and for the first time in months, I feel warm. The scent of his cologne surrounds me, and the nurse’s voice is high with indignation, but I smile because I know that everything is going to be okay. Not because of the money I’ll throw at it, but because he loves me and I love him. There’s a simple power in that.
Scrambled Eggs and Lemsip
Gabe
I’m ploughing through a knee-deep stack of papers on my desk when my phone rings. Recognising the ringtone, I smile involuntarily and reach out quickly to grab the call.
“Hey, you.”
“Hey, babe.” Dylan’s rich, warm voice fills my ears, making my smile wider, and then I frown when I register the hoarseness.
“What’s wrong with your throat?”
“It’s just a bit sore.”
“A bit? It sounds really painful. You had that terrible headache last night too. I wonder if you’re coming down with something. Have you taken anything?”
“Just some ibuprofen. I’ll be fine, babe. Am I interrupting you?”
“You never interrupt me.”
He laughs. “Yeah, which was said never until I started taking your dick.”
“Fuck!” I groan and adjust myself, checking that my office door is shut. “Dylan, for fuck’s sake, don’t say things like that. You know what happens when you start using words like dick, especially in that husky voice.”
“Hmm, surprisingly it’s the same reaction as when I’m just asking if you want a cup of coffee. But I’m happy to find that my ailment is turning you on.”
I laugh. “You complaining?”
His smile is evident in his voice, but that’s nothing new. It’s one of the first things that I ever noticed about him, along with the length of his legs and that tight, biteable ass. “I’ll never complain about that, Gabe. What would be the point when I’d have a hard-on for you even if you came down with the Black Death?”
I can’t help the growl that rumbles up at the thought of his hard cock. “Did you need me?” I ask, forcing my brain to change the subject. “Or are you just missing me as much as I’m missing you?”
He laughs. “It’s crazy. We had the whole Christmas period off together, and then the New Year weekend in New York, so in theory, I should have been glad to wave you out of the door, but I really miss you.”
I smile. No one has ever missed me before, and I hoard the feeling like a bear with honey. “Well, you’ll see me soon enough. The table’s booked at Primavera, as we discussed. I’ll be there at six o'clock. You’ll recognise me. I’ll be the preternaturally attractive man at the bar.”
There’s a protracted silence, and I groan, already knowing what he’s going to say. “Fuck, Dylan, not again.”
“I’m sorry,” he hastens to say. “I’m so sorry, babe, but Grant needs me to work late.”
“Why, for fuck’s sake? What can you possibly do after hours?” I desperately want to rein in my snappishness, but my disappointment won’t let me. I needed him to be where I was tonight.
Regret and a bit of defensiveness are evident in his voice. “I can’t help it, Gabe. Grant needs me to go over the corrections I gave him, and now is the only time I can fit him in.”
“He’d like to fit in you,” I snap, and then wince. I don’t wait long for the explosion.
“What the fuck?” His voice is ice cold. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Oh come on, Dylan. Use your brain.” Shit. This is not going how I’d anticipated, but then nothing ever has proceeded as I thought it would with him.
“Use my brain? I’m so sorry, but what do I normally use? Oh, I see. You seem to think that I make all my work decisions based on the demands of my cock.”
“Well, that’s how it was with me,” I snap back, and then immediately backtrack before he can tear me a new one. “I’m sorry, Dyl. That was uncalled for.”
“Yes, it fucking was. You were a completely different story.”
“Why?” I hate the neediness in my voice, but I can’t help needing Dylan. I probably wouldn’t help