Page 74 of Roll With The Punches
“Stop apologizing. You have nothing to feel sorry for.”
Stuart appeared in the bedroom doorway. “Is he still apologizing?”
“Yep.”
Stuart joined them in bed, stretching out behind Jeff, trying to be careful not to jostle him. “I warned you I’d rat you out to Master if you didn’t knock that shit off.”
“You need to spend the next several days resting and taking it easy,” Brandon said. “You scared the hell out of us. Let the medicine work, and give your body a chance to heal. That is an order.”
“I guess I’m outnumbered, huh?”
“Uh,yeah,” Brandon told him. “And that’s before you figure in Em and Grace. Because even though school’s back in session in a few weeks, you can bet they’ll be happy to stick around here and keep an eye on you for me if I ask them to.”
He stroked the back of Jeff’s head, his blond hair, trying to be gentle, not wanting to hurt him. “We love you. Your only job right now is to try to get better.”
“What if I don’t get better?” he quietly asked. “They said there’s a chance I might not. That some people don’t improve.”
“Stopit. Stressing out won’t help. The doctors told you it takes weeks, sometimes, to see a drastic improvement. Right?”
“I can’t afford to be out of work for weeks.”
“You can if I tell you to. Right now, all I want you to do is heal.”
“I can’t take weeks off from work.”
Brandon shifted position so he could cradle Jeff’s face in his hands. “Who’s my good boy?” he quietly asked.
Jeff’s sweet hazel eyes stared up at him. “Me, Master,” he softly said.
“Weloveyou. All that matters is you getting better. My orders to you, right now, are to stop worrying about finances. We’ll figure that part out. If one of us got diagnosed with cancer, would you be worried about us working, or worried about our health first?”
Jeff closed his eyes, pulling Stuart’s arm around him, nuzzling his lips against Brandon’s palm. “Health, Master,” he quietly said.
“Listen, you stubborn Alpha sub,” Stuart gently teased. “I’m not a Top, but I might go toppy on you if you don’t listen to him.”
“Uncle,” Jeff said. Then a sad sigh escaped him. “I don’t even have the energy to argue with you.”
“Can we get you something to eat?” Stuart asked. “Soup? Anything?”
“I drank some Gatorade earlier. I just don’t have much appetite. The medicine is upsetting my stomach.”
“All the more reason you need to eat something,” Brandon said. “Just a few bites. Please?”
“Maybe some mashed potatoes. No gravy.”
Stuart practically levitated off the bed to go get it for him. Meanwhile, Brandon carefully shifted again, cradling Jeff against him in the crook of his arm so he could feather his lips over his forehead. “I’m sorry the meds make you feel crappy.”
“Let’s just hope they work. The next step is them sticking another line in me, a medicine port, I think they called it, and feeding me more IV drugs. I definitely won’t be able to work if they have to do that.”
“Stop. We’ll be okay. I was paying the bills here before you two moved in. With me and Stuart working, we’ll be okay. Worst-case, you have to stop working, and we file for disability for you. It’s not like we’ll lose the house or anything.”
“That’s not comforting, Brandon.”
“It’s realistic. This isnotthe end of the world. This could have been so much worse than it was.”
“Again, not comforting.”
He pressed a long, gentle kiss to the center of his forehead. “I don’t expect you to see the upside to any of this right now. But do you trust me?”
