IN THE MIDDLE of the night, in pitch black darkness, Ben was woken abruptly by Donnie moaning and shivering in his arms. He couldn’t see anything. He felt for the light switch behind them. When the overhead light flickered on, Donnie’s face was gray and covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

“What is it?”

“Hurts so bad...” Donnie tried to curl up into a ball, but there wasn’t enough space on the bed. His hands pressed onto his stomach hard.

Ben found the call button just as Donnie gave a moan of distress and started to gag. Ben reached for the basin on the bedside table, and Donnie scrabbled his hands onto Ben’s, pulling the basin close. A moment later, bile splattered onto plastic. Donnie moaned again and retched harder. As they waited for the nurse, Ben did his best to sit them up so Donnie wouldn’t choke. His heart raced. When the gagging stopped at last, Donnie leaned his head against Ben’s neck with a whimper, his forehead burning.

Despite the night nurse’s sincere words and Ben’s desperate pleading, Donnie refused another dose of painkillers. Eventually, the nurse paged the doctor on call. Donnie screamed from the pain before Dr. Greene could convince him to accept more codeine. As soon as the medication had disappeared into the catheter on the back of Donnie’s hand, Donnie fell asleep in Ben’s arms, heavy and feverish. He remained restless, and his fever climbed and climbed. The doctor pushed more IV anti-inflammatories, then checked on Donnie every twenty minutes. Finally, when it was just getting light outside, Donnie’s temperature dropped.

Dr. Greene performed an ultrasound as soon as Donnie was lucid enough to understand the procedure. “You’ve had some bleeding in your pancreas, Donnie,” the doctor explained afterward, wiping the sticky ultrasound gel off Donnie’s belly. “You’ll have to stay in the ICU a few more days, so we can monitor you.” The fact that Donnie didn’t even protest made it clear just how exhausted he was.

Another day passed, and Ben hardly moved from Donnie’s side. Donnie dozed, still in evident discomfort. In the afternoon, after several more doses of anti-inflammatory drugs, he awoke looking better.

He frowned when he saw Ben sitting in the chair by the bed again. “You’re not at work.” “I took an emergency day,” Ben said. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better... but, man, you look like shit.”

Ben grinned. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Come and lie down with me again. You need some shut eye.” Ben didn’t need telling twice.

“Feels weird,” Donnie said when Ben had settled himself and pulled Donnie into his arms.

“What’s that?” Ben asked, alarmed that something might be hurting Donnie again.

“Snuggling,” Donnie said, his head resting on Ben’s chest. There was a smile in his voice. “Never had someone to snuggle with before. It’s nice.”

“Yeah,” Ben said, smiling too. “Yeah, it is. Nobody’s wanted to snuggle with me in a long while.”

“Good thing we found each other, then,” Donnie said, hugging Ben.

Ben looked down at the tousled head, and a great wave of tenderness filled him. “It sure is,” he whispered.

DONNIE AS GOOD as kicked Ben out that night. “Go home. Shower. Eat some food that’s not chips and soda. Sleep in your own bed, and come back tomorrow after work.”

Ben grinned down at him. “That’s not like you, being the boss.”

“I worry about you, is all,” Donnie grumbled. Ben put a hand against his face and stroked the still bruised cheekbone. Donnie tensed and closed his eyes with a sigh. He definitely craved physical contact, but a certain nervousness about their growing intimacy still remained.

“All right, I’m going,” Ben said. “Where are your keys? I’ll go by your place and bring you some clothes.”