His little monitor started beeping, warning him to calm the fuck down.
Saul sighed. “You have to take it easy and you have to eat. This isn’t going to last forever.”
“I know. I know. I’m sorry. I just… I’m sorry.” Fuck.
Saul moved in closer, cupped his jaw with one hand. “Don’t be sorry. Just breathe. Maybe we can call Solomon and see what he’d suggest? But even he is going to want me to fatten you up.”
“He’d say, focus on your breathing, on your restorative practice.” And Solomon would be right. He just didn’t seem to have a calm center anymore.
“Is that something I can help with?” They were moving, Saul pulling him gently into the kitchen. “I will if I can.”
How the hell was he supposed to answer that? “I honestly don’t know. I’ve lost my center. There’s no balance right now.”
“Hm. You have to accept. You know who said that to me? Kris. The day he and his Master, came in to design him a bike with Emma.”
Accept. At least Kris was a hero. He was a cook with a heart defect and six weeks before he could get back to work.
“I can feel you mentally grumbling at me, you know.” Saul sat him in a chair at the kitchen table. “Man, this is going to be a long six weeks if you can’t breathe a little.”
“I’m sorry. It’ll be better tomorrow. You’ll be able to get back to work, back on your schedule.” He just needed to shut up and fucking deal. He’d been dealing for twenty fucking years just fine. Saul had a whole life ahead of him. If Troy wanted to be a part of it, he needed to suck it up and not run him off.
Saul glanced at him, brow furrowed, and then at the floor. After a thoughtful couple of second Saul pulled out a chair and sat with him. “This isn’t about me. It’s not about my schedule, or my work. It’s about you, Troy. It’s about your health. I don’t want you to find some peace with these first few weeks so I can get on with my life. I want you to recover, to be whole again so that we can get on with ours. Together. I swear to you it’s not about me. It’s about us.”
He didn’t know how to deal with this. No. No, that wasn’t true. He knew how. He just couldn’t do it. “It’s like someone else took up residence in my brain.”
“Is that someone else still my sub?” Saul looked at him meaningfully. “If the rest of it is too hard right now, you can serve me and not have to think about any of it.”
“I’m yours, Sir, good and bad.” Hopefully, Saul could take him. “And it is hard. Fucking exhausting.”
“You hurt, boy. The pain meds do a number on you. You’re sleeping but maybe not getting good rest. You’re not eating enough. I’m a nag, the nurses are nags…” Saul grinned at him. “You’re up against some big hurdles. And tomorrow Geoff is coming to hang out with you. You think I can be an asshole?”
“I’ll just send him home if he’s not nice.” He did grin back at his Master, taking Saul’s hand.
“Can we please agree that you have to eat three times a day so you can gain some weight? Hungry or not? You’ve got meds to support and you need your energy.”
“I haven’t done that since I started rodeoing. You’ll say if I get too puffy?”
Saul shook his head. “You can watch the scale. Ten pounds and you can back down to two. Fifteen and I’ll stop nagging altogether. Deal?”
“Fifteen pounds… that much?” He’d lost that much? Really? That was almost scary.
“You lost ten and the docs want you up five. You were underweight.” Saul leaned over and kissed him, then stood up. “Skinny. I’m feeding you this soup.”
“What kind of soup?” He told himself he could do this—breathe, focus, let Saul care for him.
Saul opened the container. “Cream of potato? I think?” And some yummy-looking crunchy things. Maybe croutons? I’ll tell you what. You eat a good bit of this, and we’ll snuggle on the couch for a while and find something stupid on TV.”
“I do like snuggling on the sofa with you.” He could get used to it. Hell, he was already used to it. “Make sure you make yourself some.”
He nodded, smiling. “I will. I’m hungry and this smells really good. I think Geoff said tomorrow he’s bringing something you can chew. How is your pain right now?”
“I don’t want another pill. They make me stupid.” Although, maybe half a pill would take the edge off…
“You don’t have to have one unless you need one. You’re allowed Tylenol too, if you think that’s enough. They do make you pretty loopy. You said some weird shit yesterday.”
“Oh God. Like what?” Weird as in ‘I like mustard on my Saltines’ or weird like ‘I called you Arnie’?
Saul shook his head and shrugged. “It’s not important, it was just nonsense. You were high. What do you think about having a glass of milk instead of just water? Add some calories?”
“Sure. Thank you, Sir.” He could drink a glass of milk, no problem.
“Great. My evil plot to fatten you up is underway.” Saul laughed and brought him a bowl of soup, a spoon and some crackers. “One thing I’ll say for soup, it heats up quick.”
“It does. That’s one of the best things.” He loved making soups—chicken and rice, potato, beef stew. Oh. Chili.
Saul set a glass of milk down and sat at the table to eat with him. They were quiet as they each took their first few bites, but he knew Saul was watching him. Not watching what he was eating—watching him.
He kept stealing glances in return, curious at first, and then admiring. His Saul was lovely, and Troy thought he could admire him for hours.
“Hey, Troy?”
Uh oh. Something was on his lover’s mind. “Something wrong?”
“No, no. I just… I’m trying very hard not to judge, okay? But… I just wanted you to know that I won’t ever have a bag with some arbitrary number of chances in it. There is no line with me, okay? I love you. I’m not keeping score or… and I won’t try to trip you up. Okay? I just wanted to say that.”
“Oh.” What was he supposed to say to that? That he knew, because he did? That he’d let Arnie do that to him? That he’d been a stupid, desperate kid? “Thank you. I love you too.”
That was honest and true.
“I know everything is different now. You’re different now. I just… needed you to know. So, now you do.” Saul gave him a shrug and a smile. “How’s the soup?”
“Carter’s not half the cook I am. It needs garlic.”
“Carter’s hired someone.” Saul winked at him. “Finally.”
“Huh.” Okay, that was both good and bad. Good because he’d need help when he got back, but bad because, damn, he wanted Carter to need him to be back.
Saul touched his hand. “Don’t worry. Carter will have a job for you—if you decide you want to go back.”
“It’s not like I have another job waiting for me…” He turned his hand over, twining their fingers together.
“Well, you kind of do though. You were talking about retiring, remember? To get your instructor hours in so you could open a yoga studio. I remember it clearly because I thought it was such a great idea.”