The truth was, he was petrified. Not of Felix, but of the hurt he could cause—of the hurt both of them could cause if they weren’t careful enough. He wanted Felix more than he’d wanted anyone in a damn long time. He just wasn’t sure if he trusted himself to take the risk.
* * *
Dei stacked his travel shoes on top of his suitcase. Flying for him was a thousand times trickier than it was before his injuries. His pride wanted him to skip disability services because being wheeled in some hulking hospital-style chair by a total stranger was mortifying, but the fuss they made in the security line if he didn’t was often worse.
The last time he’d left the state, he’d been dragged into one of the private security rooms and strip-searched, and the security agent had broken his collapsible cane, which made navigating the Dallas airport awful.
The stress was weighing on him, though not nearly enough to make him want to cancel on Felix. He wasn’t sure anything short of the damn apocalypse could do that.
Moving to his closet, he stared inside at his dressier clothes and sighed. He hadn’t been to a funeral in years, and the last two he’d attended were for Marines, which meant his Dress Blues. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to draw that kind of attention to himself this time. Especially with how difficult Felix’s family had been. He knew that Felix showing up with him was going to cause a stir enough as it was.
Dei felt a headache coming on, but before he could do anything about it, his doorbell rang. For a brief second, he thought maybe it was Sofia. He moved faster than usual, ignoring the pain in his hip as he hoofed it to the door.
When he peered out of the peephole, his heart sank for a split second before rising into his throat at the sight of Felix there, looking awkward and uncertain. He had one hand pressed to the back of his neck, and the other was clenched around the handle of a small suitcase.
Dei quickly let him in, taking him by the shoulder as he closed the door behind him. “You look white as a sheet, sugar.”
Felix swallowed heavily. “Having second thoughts.”
“About me?” Dei asked carefully. He’d bow out if Felix asked him to, even if that went against every instinct.
Felix immediately shook his head. “Fuck no. You’re the only reason I’m brave enough to stand here right now. I’m…it’s…” He closed his eyes in a slow blink. “Is it okay if we don’t talk about it right now?”
“’Course.” Dei released his shoulder and carefully took the suitcase out of his hand, bracing it against the wall. “We got the couch or my bed to snuggle up on,” Dei told him carefully.
“Oh. Uh,” Felix said, a tiny smile playing at his lips.
“And I might only have the one arm left, but I can still give a mean massage.”
“Massage?” Felix echoed.
He shrugged. “You look like you could use it.”
Dei was talking out of his ass. He’d never given a massage in his life, but he’d figure it out if it kept that look on Felix’s face.
“Bed, then?”
Dei nodded and led the way to his bedroom, his pace slower this time. His stump was starting to fire up with nerve pain, but he breathed through it as he limped to the bed and started to move his stuff over.
“Oh shit, I interrupted your packing,” Felix said.
Dei waved him off. “You interrupted a crisis of clothing. I don’t know what I should be wearin’ to this thing.”
Felix grimaced. “I picked out some slacks and a button-up. It’s got skulls on it, but they’re really hard to see. My grammy would have loved it, and if my mom notices and gets pissed, it’s a bonus.”
Dei snorted. “Okay, so I don’t need to bring my Dress Blues.”
At that, Felix’s cheeks went faintly pink. “Uh. No. But…well. No.”
Dei cocked his head to the side. “Darlin’?”
“It’s…I’m not trying to be a creep. I just think they’d look hot on you.” He glanced away, covering half his face with his hand.
Dei’s heart felt kind of warm and soft. He took two steps closer and grabbed Felix by the chin. “You wanna be feelin’ all that stuff during Grammy’s funeral?”
Felix quickly shook his head. “Maybe another time?”
Dei laughed and nodded, releasing him as much as he didn’t want to. He gestured toward the bed as he backed up, then turned toward his closet to grab one of his nice, navy blue button-ups and some trousers from the shelf. “I promise you’ll get the chance to see ’em.” He tossed his clothes on top of his suitcase, resolving to press them when they got to their hotel, then turned back to Felix, who was now perched on the end of his bed.