Page 9 of The Barn: Frost and Q
Four
Qshould never have asked Frost to stay the night.
Morning.
Whatever.
He knew better, but he’d been lonely and worried and a little desperate, so he’d caved, but now?
Frost never went away.
He was at the cameras. He was calling. He was bringing food and flying in therapists and generally driving Q out of his stupid mind.
All he wanted to do was his work, his watching, and his sleeping. It was a routine. Safe. Secure. Steady.
He didn’t need Frost threatening to make his closet bigger, put a king bed in there…
Like there was room. This was his spot, but it was a finite space. Frost was just going to have to deal with that fact.
He felt bad, because Frost had a hard time fitting in there with him, but then, that had always been the idea.
Now, though, he’d created a monster. Of hope. And he wasn’t sure what the fuck to do.
Rightnow,he was going to shout at the physical therapist. “I am not going to go get in the pool today. I do not feel like it. Not not notty not.”
“Mr. Kelly says you are…”
“Mr. Kelly can kiss my ass.”
The therapist, who he refused to call by name but who was actually a “Lane”, grinned. “I won’t comment on that. Come on, if you do the hydrotherapy, you get the hot tub.”
“If I wanted to get in the pool, I would have been in there already!” He did love having a scream. It was so relaxing, releasing all sorts of pent-up tension.
“Mmmhmm. But you like it once you get in.”
“I do not!” This damn sub was infuriating. He just didn’t get mad. Period. Lane was unflappable.
“Enough.” Frost glared at him from across the room where he had appeared like smoke, arms crossed over his chest. “You’re going, baby boy.”
“Fuck you. I will not.”
Frost arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t hear a safe word.”
His blood boiled, but only because Frost was right. He didn’t want to have to make decisions. He wanted to rant and rail and not have to worry about getting in trouble. “I said, Fuck. You!”
Frost arched an eyebrow, then scooped him up and put him over one shoulder. “Bring his chair, Lane.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Put me down!”
“If you aren’t careful, you’re going to be heard all over the building.”
He snapped his teeth closed, grinding them until his head hurt a little.
Frost put him in his chair, then cupped his cheeks in both hands, staring into his eyes. “Come swim with me.”
“Not therapy?” He could maybe deal with that. Maybe.
