“When I retire, yeah.” Maybe in another ten years—the condo would be paid off; he could save a ton of money and teach some classes.
Saul raised an eyebrow. “You could retire any time… right? What’s stopping you?”
“I’m forty-five.” You didn’t retire at forty-five.
“Sounds like the perfect time to start a new career to me. You have twenty years in the diner. Aren’t you bored yet?”
“God yes.” He didn’t mind it, but it was just another job. It sure as shit wasn’t rodeoing. Still, Carter and Geoff were his friends, his boss and his tattoo artist.
“So move on. Get your teaching hours in. I bet your mortgage can’t be much more than what I was paying in rent. I can help support you through it some, right?” Saul grinned at him and picked up a cracker.
“I… I think I should be careful. Think about this.” Nothing good ever just happened, right?
“Well, you have time. Six weeks, at minimum.” Saul winked. “And look at you, you just about finished your soup.” He got a quick kiss on his forehead and then Saul took his bowl. “Good boy. How do you feel? Nap? Meds?”
“I think I’ll take a half of a pill before we settle on the sofa.” That had been the plan, and he intended to enjoy it.
“I wasn’t sure you’d really be up for it. Awesome. Why don’t you head out there? I’ll do the dishes and start the laundry and then I’ll be out.” Saul started up the water and dropped all the dishes in the kitchen sink.
“You sure you don’t want me to do laundry?”
“Boy.”
That single word, that tone, made him shiver.
“Go sit. No, wait. Go… kneel.” Saul went back to the dishes. “Now.”
Oh God. God. What if he got down and couldn’t get up? What if…
Stop it.
If he got down and couldn’t get up, his Master would help him. He knew that like he knew his own name.
“Yes, Sir.” He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to take his pill or not, so he erred on the side of caution. He eased himself down onto the sofa, then laboriously worked on getting to his knees.
He’d managed it by the time Saul finally joined him. His Master held out a bottle of water and half a pain pill. “Good boy.” Saul sat on the couch behind him and rested hands on his shoulders, kneading gently.
He felt like his skin was resting directly on his bones. He sighed, took his pill, and let himself relax, feel that touch.
“Ready to come sit with me, boy? Let me know if you need a hand.” Saul gave his shoulders a squeeze.
“Yes, Sir. Please.” He was at that place where the world was held back with a thin piece of tissue.
Saul helped him up enough that he could slide back onto the couch. “Are you feeling more weak or more in pain? Your meds tend to kick in pretty quick.” They settled together and Saul helped him get close, get comfortable. “There. Just lean right on me. Good?”
“Good. Thank you, Sir.” He felt fragile, but not weak. It felt like an important distinction.
“So. Food Network? B movie? Weather Channel?” Saul kissed his head. “Did I tell you Geoff is coming to hang with you tomorrow? And he has a whole schedule of people to keep you company while I’m working. Subs from the Sunday gathering.”
“You’re good to me, Sir.” He didn’t really need the company, but the idea that Saul and all his buddies cared? That was the best medicine. Geoff would be a butt, but he knew he and Kris could get into trouble together.
Saul turned on the TV and found the Food Network. “Oh, that was all Geoff and Carter. All I did was call and panic at them.” Saul laughed. “I’m new at this.”
“I think we all are. Usually I do it—make the calls and food, all that.”
“Yeah? Did you do it for Kris and Matt?” His Master was playing with his hair, combing fingers through the short curls.
“I did. I helped with all the details—accessibility, getting Matt to Germany, getting them both back.”
“Wow. That’s pretty amazing, actually. And kind. No wonder they are all over being helpful. That, and maybe the whole bike thing. I got a call from Matt asking how I was yesterday. It was pretty cool of him.”
“They’re all good guys. My family.” God, he loved this fine son of a bitch.
Saul nodded. “They are. You couldn’t pick a better one. Feeling that pain med yet?”
“Little bit, yeah.” The whole world was a little blue around the edges.
“Chopped.” Saul pointed to the TV. “I love this show. It’s like the MacGyver of cooking.”
“Oh man. There is some gross shit on this show, especially the Halloween episodes. I love it.”
“The grosser the better. Have you seen the one with the cocktail onions and the fruit punch? Ugh.” Saul laughed. “Sometimes I wonder what it’s like to be a judge.”
“Sort of like training a new kid at the diner, right?” Troy chuckled softly at himself. Sometimes he wondered about his sense of humor; mostly he just went with it.
Saul was stroking a solid hand over his shoulder and down his side, the touch warm, soothing. “God, I hope not. I hate to think what you would end up putting into my French toast.”
“I take great care with your French toast, I’ll have you know.” He turned to face Saul, leaning for a kiss. “Great care.”
“Mmm. Best I ever had.” Saul kissed him, slow and deep, tongue gliding along his. He leaned in and breathed, letting Saul control this.
Saul moaned softly and pulled him closer, though their kiss simmered rather than flared, his Master keeping them both in check. Just the act of breathing together made him feel like a million bucks. Made him feel healthier.
“Mmm. That was a good idea, boy.” Saul smiled at him, a little buzzed. His lover stole another kiss, then tasted his jaw, his ear, breathed hot air on his neck.
“Oh God. That tingles so good, Master. All over.”
“How long do you have to wear that monitor? I’m ready to make it squeal so loud it shorts out.” Saul drew a thumb over one pierced nipple.
“Three more weeks. Damn thing.” He hated it, but he had to be honest, he wasn’t cleared for sex yet and his lover didn’t seem to be interested in breaking the doctor’s rules.
“Mother of God.” Saul laughed, and caught his eye. “We’re not getting out of bed on day twenty-two.”
“Promise? I need you in the worst way.”
Saul smiled and sighed. “I’m sorry, boy. I know. We have to wait, though. We have to do this right the first time so we don’t have to ever do it again. Right? Your heart isn’t something to fuck around with.” His Master chuckled. “Like, literally.”
“Right? I’m pretty sure I can’t get it up yet. Soon, but not yet.”
“It’s only six weeks. That’s all. I can wait six weeks, I think. I’m pretty sure. I’m trying to think of the last time I waited that long. I’m sure I have…” Saul seemed completely serious. “Maybe?”
“Shut up, you turkey. I was on a once, maybe twice a year diet for twenty years.”