“Good boy. How would you feel about my buddies bringing my stuff over tomorrow? Too soon? Too many people? I really don’t have much.”
“Bring it on. This is your home, you should have your things.”
Saul glanced over and smiled at him. “Thank you. We need to talk about rent and utilities, food and stuff. Beer.” Saul laughed. “Soon. Not this minute but think about it.”
“Yeah. We’ll do okay, though. I got some savings, and I will get back to work as soon as I can.” Maybe even next week. Maybe.
“Six weeks minimum, and don’t even think earlier is a possibility. Carter and I have discussed that. Sorry, boy. You get one shot at this recovery thing and you’re going to get it right.”
There were downsides to working for another Dom. Downsides, but shit, there was a huge comfort knowing that Saul and Carter had his back, that someone was caring for him. “Y’all are talking behind my back.”
“Yes. We are.” Saul sighed. “I was in over my head for a bit.”
“You were there for me. I’ll never forget it.” Saul had been with him, every time Troy had needed him.
“Of course. I didn’t want to be—I don’t want to be anywhere else. I love you. Turn on the TV. We’re talking ourselves in circles.” Saul chuckled and pointed to the remote next to him.
“Yes, Sir.” Ghost hunting. Laughing. Snoozing together on the sofa.
Just like last week.
Except he didn’t think he’d seen five minutes of anything before he’d fallen asleep. He woke up feeling a little stiff, lying against Saul, his Master’s chest rising and falling rhythmically under him. The light had shifted, and he knew by the shadows it was afternoon, maybe two or three already. They’d been asleep for a couple of hours.
He needed to sit up, to pee, and to take half a pain pill. He clenched his teeth and forced himself to push up and not moan. Oh fuck him sideways, he was sore, and he needed to think about supper.
Had Saul mentioned supper? Maybe? Hell, he didn’t know.
“Hold on. I’ll help,” Saul said sleepily. Troy watched him drag himself awake and stretch long and tall like a cat. “Got this.”
“Didn’t mean to wake you up, love.” God. Okay. Sitting. Maybe he’d just wait to piss until, well, maybe next week.
“I was just dozing.” Dozing for two hours. Sure.
Saul sat up, took a breath and then stood. “Okay. Where were you headed? Kitchen? Bathroom?”
“Bathroom. I gotta go.” He sighed and held one hand up to his Dom. He needed help. “Please.”
Saul nodded and helped him up, giving him a moment to get his balance. They started moving together, Saul’s arm around his back, supporting him. “We should get you upstairs after this while you still have some strength.”
“Maybe I’ll just sleep on the sofa. That looks like a long way.” Maybe tomorrow he could crawl up.
“Carter offered to get you a hospital bed.” Saul grinned at him and stopped outside the bathroom.
“I’d beat his toppy ass,” he growled, before heading in to relieve himself. He’d waited so long it hurt, and he was panting and sweating by the time he came back out.
“Oh, baby. Come sit in the kitchen. There’s food.” Saul got an arm under him and he felt like he’d floated across the kitchen to his seat. “Chicken soup.”
“I don’t know if I’m hungry.” He didn’t know if he could pick up a spoon right now, but he didn’t want to let on.
“Well, then you don’t know you’re not. Might as well try.” Saul let him sit and started moving around, finding a pot, warming the oven. “Carter will be disappointed if we don’t.”
“It’s time for a pill after, yeah?” Please? He hurt.
“Uh.” Saul checked the time on his phone. “You have a little less than an hour.” The soup went on the stove and Saul put a few soft rolls in the oven to warm up. “How bad is it?”
“Worse than a mosquito bite for sure.” He hurt like his chest had been cracked open.
“I’ll sneak it to you a little early. In the meantime, maybe you can pretend it’s a tattoo.” Saul winked at him. “I mean… it’s not the same, but, pain, right?”
“You’re right, it’s not the same.” He smiled though, letting the tease be what it needed to be, a way to distract him, relax him.
Saul chuckled and set a glass of water down in front of him. “Shame, right? Uh… soup bowls are where?”
“Left side of the sink. Do I need to make room for your dishes?”
Saul shook his head. “I don’t have any.”
“Well, now you do.” He had Fiestaware. Tons of it. Carter had teased him at the beginning, but the guys always found him some fabulous piece for Christmas, birthdays.
“I’m not kidding, I have like, almost no stuff. Most of what I’m bringing should probably live in the garage. My bikes, and my freestanding punch bag. My skateboard, skis, crap like that. Otherwise, I guess I have a suitcase and some books and stuff.”
Saul sat a bowl of soup in front of him. “You need help with that, just ask.”
“I’d like to go riding with you, and I love to ski.” He grabbed the spoon, hand trembling like an old man’s. He could do this. He could.
“You’re on. I’m going to build you a bike when you’re ready to ride.” Saul set rolls out and then came back with a bowl of soup for himself. To his credit, he didn’t say a thing or offer to help again. He just let Troy be.
“Good deal. I need to paint the spare room, replace that vanity in the guest bath…” Learn how to hold a spoon steady.
“I’m no designer but I’m pretty handy if you want help. Could be fun, doing it together.” Saul took a bite of the soup and snagged a roll off the plate between them. “Good. Not as good as yours, and I’m not blowing smoke.”
“I’d love help. I like the whole idea of together.” He needed his pain pill, so he ate his soup. He didn’t need to be tossing cookies.
“It’s early, but I’m getting your pills. You look like a ghost.” Saul hopped up and came back with the bag of meds from the hospital, unpacking it on the kitchen counter. “Damn, this is a lot of shit.”
“Yeah, it makes my head hurt to look at it.” He pushed the soup away. “I’m going to bed.”
“Sit one more second, boy.” Saul pushed a roll at him. “Eat that, take your pill, and then we’ll get you upstairs. I promise.”
“I’m so angry.” He wasn’t sure if he’d said the words out loud, but he meant them.
“Eat so you can take this thing, will you?” Saul rubbed his back gently. “You’re exhausted is all. And hurting.”
“Yes. I think I might be going crazy.”
“The doctors said this was normal, boy. That your brain chemistry and hormones would be horked. We just have to be patient with it. Easy for me to say, I guess.” Saul kissed the top of his head. “This grew in a lot this week. It’s more like hair and less like fuzz.”
“Do you like it?” Given length it would become heavy ringlets, all over his head.