NINE
He was freezing and the damned television was on too loud. Micah rolled onto his side only to gasp as pain shot through his body. A warm hand squeezed his and Micah looked over to find Kit curled up beside him. His eyes were closed, his breathing level in sleep, but the squeeze seemed to indicate that he was aware on some level.
Other than light from the television the room was dark. There were no windows that he could see. Or a clock. It could have been the middle of the day or the middle of the night for all Micah knew. And he had to piss like nobody’s business.
Kit didn’t flinch when he eased his hand away and left the bed. Micah didn’t wonder why he was sleeping with Kit. He seemed to recall leaving the hospital and going directly to check on his…his what? Charge? What the hell had Kit become to him? Some kid he felt sorry for? Possible lover? Fuck, he was out of his mind even to consider that last thought.
He had no idea if Kit had a private bath. He found the door to the outer rooms and stepped out into broad daylight, complete with biting wind and cursing workmen.
No wonder Kit had the TV turned up, it killed the sound going on in the rest of the house.
“I was just coming to check on you.” Kady, the gamer maid came around the corner, her cheeks flushed from the cold. “Is Kit sleeping?”
“Yeah,” Micah said, his tongue felt thick and his mouth tasted of blood and something resembling dead possums. “It’s freezing in here.”
“The replacement windows have arrived. Unfortunately, it’s regular glass. The specialty glass won’t be ready for several days.” Kady reached out to steady him when he swayed. “What do you need, Mr….Beez…is it all right if I call you Beez or would Kit’s Beastly be more fitting?” She smiled at that last one then giggled when Micah growled.
“I thought I heard him call me that.” Micah held onto the wall, and let her continue to hold his arm. The drugs in his system had left him disoriented. “I need a bathroom. What time is it?”
“Why didn’t you use Kit’s?” She helped him down a narrow hallway into another windowless room, but this one, at least, had a light, and all of his things sitting on the same bed he’d slept in the last couple of nights. “There’s a private bath in here. And as you can see you’ve been relocated to be near Kit.”
“Considering someone is using him for target practice, I guess that makes the most sense.” Micah reached around to scratch his back, but she caught his hand before he could disturb the bandage. “Oh, yeah, right. I’ve been perforated.”
“At least you can make jokes about it. I’d freak out if the ceiling fell in on me.” Kady left him beside the bathroom but hadn’t gone far when he returned. “It’s almost four. Mrs. Gibbs wants to know if you’re hungry. She has an early supper almost ready. Rochfort doesn’t want to wake Kit because he sleeps so very little. So that means Mom and Dad are arguing over Harry Potter and the rest of us Weasleys are trying to stay out of the way of them, the workmen, and the cops. It’s been like an Imax 3D movie around here today. Everything up close and in your face.”
Micah sat on the edge of the bed and opened his suitcase. “Are the cops still around?” He hadn’t noticed when Spencer helped him into the house. He found a loose T-shirt and pulled it on over his bandage, wincing as the stitches pulled.
“They’ve been all over the property looking for shit, and asking questions of everyone. Generally making a nuisance and accusing the help of hiding information. Want me to help you unpack your things? Or were you planning to catch the first flight back to California?”
He found socks and pulled them on his feet. He needed to change out of the blood stained pants but couldn’t with Kady in the room. “I guess that would help. I should probably do some laundry. I don’t have much with me right now.”
“Just gather everything up and I’ll get that done for you before I leave.”
“That’s not your job and I’m—“
“About to fall on your face from ten minutes of being on your feet.” She shoved him back into a sitting position. “Besides you had Kit on his back and you saved his life. Maybe even popped his cherry.”
“Oh my God. I didn’t even touch him. We were playing a game.”
“Shirtless?” She smirked at him. “I mean the police fell for that one. I suspect you aren’t the type to play strip war games with just anyone, and I know Kit isn’t so that leads me to think naughty thoughts.”
“Jesus, can’t anyone have any privacy in this house?” He felt the blush start with the rush of memory. He hadn’t lied. He hadn’t touched Kit. Kit had done all of the touching. And Micah was out of his fucking mind to have let it get that far out of hand.
“Not really.” She winked at him and smiled at his discomfort. “Okay, so no cherry popping but there was more than gaming going on for you to be conveniently on top of him like that?”
She was trying to be subtle, but Micah wasn’t falling for it. “If it’ll make you happy, we kissed. We were kissing. Okay. I saw the gun fire in the dark and I pushed him onto the floor and covered him. Never thought the fucking ceiling would shatter. I thought it was supposed to be bulletproof?” Micah scraped a hand through his hair. Thankfully finding no shards of glass still lingering there. Safety glass was bigger, chunkier. Which he was seriously grateful for or he’d have more than a few well aimed chunks sticking from his back. If he’d survived in the first place.
“Well, I guess that makes me a tiny bit happy. And because you were a good boy and didn’t blush too much when you confessed, I’ll unpack your things and do your laundry.” She smirked, but Micah liked it. The smirk turned into a smile that became something more mischievous. “Did he like it? Kissing, I mean. I’m not sure he’s ever kissed anyone before.”
Micah remembered the touch of Kit’s lips to his. The hesitance, the inexperience, the sweetness. “I’m not telling. Maybe.”
She flipped him off, then she flipped his suitcase open and upended everything onto his bed. “So then I guess the question would be did you like kissing him? He’s so pretty. I bet he’s just your type too. You strike me as the Yaoi type. Really pretty men. That sort of thing….maybe I should ask if there’s anything in here I don’t need to see? Maybe a gun…or…sex toys or something I shouldn’t know about?”
“I left my Glock and my Fleshlight at home on the bedside table. Sorry, babe, maybe next time.” Micah rolled his eyes and grabbed his last clean pair of sweat pants before she could abscond with what was left of his clothing.
“And here I was hoping to find a butt plug or anal beads or something salacious like that. Of course, now that I know you go commando, I’ll never be able to look you in the eye again.” She stuck her tongue out and began folding his few remaining casual clothes to tuck into a dresser drawer.
“Do I look like a bottom to you?” He shot back before thinking better of it.
“Well, now that you mention it…” She paused to give him a head to toe assessment that had Micah squirming. “Maybe a little bit of one. If the right man comes along. So tell me, Beastly, why hasn’t the right man come along?”
“Who says he hasn’t?” He shut up before he said too much.
“You’re not meaning Kit are you?” Kady looked startled. “And judging by how clenched your jaw is right now things didn’t go well.”
“Which would imply that I don’t want to discuss my love life. Past present or future. So please, Kady, I know you mean well. But—”
“Butt out…yeah, yeah. I got that message. Loud and clear.” She sighed and went back to putting away his clothes in the dresser and wardrobe that looked as if they’d been hastily shoved into the room along with the bed. “If you’ll go change out of those bloody pants I’ll get your laundry started.”
“Yeah.” Micah forgot he held the clean pants and went into the small bath to change. He put everything in a pile beside the door when he came back out. His back hurt and his stomach wanted to be upset but mostly he was exhausted, from the messed up schedule, from the pain drugs…from everything that had happened in the past couple of days.
“Are you okay?” She studied him as she closed his suitcase and slid it under his bed. “Do you need something? I could get you something to eat. I have no problem bringing you a tray like I do for Kit. Or do you need something for pain?”
The noise in the outer room seemed to grow louder. Almost as if he were in a tunnel and the sound was trapped with him, echoing off the walls and slamming into his head. “Sleep. I think I had about three hours in the past twenty-four and most of that was drug induced. And no noise. I’d go back to my room but this seems to be my room now.”
“Go back into Kit’s room. It’s a bit more sound proof, and he keeps the TV on to drown out the voices in his head. It’s probably warm in there too. I don’t think anyone will say anything if you sleep with him, since that’s where you were the last time they saw you.”
“You mean Rochfort.” Micah swayed a bit. Or the room did. He wasn’t sure which. “Why does everyone seem to be seeing some relationship where there is nothing? Or am I imagining things?”
“Well, you did kiss him. And there are more stains on those sweatpants than blood.” She smirked at him again. “But kissing can lead to that kind of pants staining for guys. I’m told. I’m not really in the know about such things.”
“You’re a bit of a sassy wench aren’t you?” He smiled, liking the girl, but not the teasing.
“Now that’s not something I’ve ever been called before. Kit calls me something that rhymes and starts with a B. But that’s when I’m beating him at his own games. He also calls me bossy.”
“You mean he calls you a bench?” Micah thought that was funny. Kady didn’t.
“There is that too.” Kady came around the bed and instead of picking up his laundry she got in his face. She was taller than he thought. “You, Mr. Beastly, are in my way. So let’s get you back in bed and in a couple of hours there will be food and the loud men will all be gone and you and Kit can maybe discuss what it was you were doing before you were so rudely interrupted.” She took his wrist and before Micah could react she twisted it behind his back. With a firm hand on his shoulder she walked him back into Kit’s warm, dark bedroom and closed the door behind him.
Kit sat up, his hair a mess, his eyes startled and sleepy at the same time. He signed something that Micah didn’t understand.
“Just had to use the john. Everything is fine. Go back to sleep.” Micah climbed into the huge fucking bed and dragged the covers over him and the silent man who sighed and blinked and went right back to sleep as if a strange man in his bed was all he needed to sleep the sleep of the dead.
Micah lay on his side watching the blue light from the TV play over Kit’s perfect face. He wanted nothing more than to curl up with the man and take the comfort he offered. But that would mean letting himself feel something. And as much as Kit was making him want to bleed inside, he was limiting this to bleeding on the outside. And that was final. Kit squeezed his hand and wriggled closer. Completely final. This was because the outside had gone to hell and he needed to sleep off the drugs. Kit rolled in his arms, tucking his body against Micah’s. Micah draped his arm over Kit’s waist. His hand trapped in Kit’s. So completely final. Micah tucked his face into Kit’s shoulder and breathed in his warmth. Completely….Final.
* * * * *
He sweated. No, it wasn’t him sweating.
Kit was pressed down on the bed. His body half covered with a furnace that poured sweat. Strong fingers dug into his arm. Half in a panic Kit woke up at the first long guttural cry. He knew where he was. His room. The television was tuned to a movie channel. It was dark but he knew where he was. He should have been alone. Not pressed under a body that seemed to be…
In distress.
Beastly!
Beastly had fallen asleep in Kit’s bed. And Kit had followed. Somehow, Beastly was using him as a pillow.
Okay.
And was dreaming.
Okay.
Kit ran his one free hand up Beastly’s arm to his face. Beastly flinched and before Kit could wake him, he was on his hands and knees, his eyes wide open, and filled with fear.
Beastly was scared to death.
From a nightmare.
“Heath?” The man questioned him before his eyes cleared and he groaned. “Kit…fuck…toilet. I’m going to—”
He crawled to the side of the bed while Kit turned on a lamp. Beastly looked white as a sheet. Sweat still trickled from his forehead, his hair was soaked with it. Kit pointed to the wall not far from Beastly and followed him to the curtain that covered the entrance to his bathroom.
Beastly dropped to the floor and leaned over his toilet. His body shaking as he puked his guts up.
“It’s the drugs. They give me nightmares. I don’t like to be—” more retching stopped him from explaining. Kit wet a washcloth in cold water and pressed it to Beastly’s forehead. “I’m sorry, Kit.”
“Okay,” Kit signed to him. He knelt beside him, wiping his face and his neck as another round of nausea shook its way free of him.
“I’m not doing such a great job at guarding you. All we do is sleep.” Beastly held Kit’s wrist and buried his face in the cold cloth. “That feels good. Sorry I sweated on you.”
Kit shrugged in answer. He’d never taken care of someone sick before. He had no idea what he was doing.
“Yeah, well, shouldn’t have been that close to…” he puked again. “God I hate…”
“Drug-induced nightmares suck,” Kit signed and went to the sink to rinse the cloth. Beastly leaned against him when he knelt again. Shaking. He was shaking and not with cold.
“Nightmares suck. God, I’m sorry.”
Kit held him when he slumped over. He wiped at Beastly’s brow and jaw while he came down from the strain of the past few moments.
Sometime in the past few hours Beastly had put on a shirt and socks and changed his pants. Kit remembered him wearing gray sweats when he passed out in his bed. Now he wore black sweats. And an LAPD T-shirt, that had a blood stain on the back near his left shoulder blade.
“I can’t stand the smell of blood.” Beastly mumbled against Kit’s shoulder. His breath, fowl, but warm across Kit’s skin. “Not anymore. I smell my own blood and I’m puking my guts up. Some cop I turned out to be.”
“Your shoulder is bleeding a little,” Kit signed when Beastly sat up on his own. He shook his head as if he didn’t understand. Kit slowed down and used basic words.
“Probably, yeah. I feel like the one near my shoulder blade is still…” he reached out and grabbed Kit’s arms as he swayed a bit. “They stitched up three gashes. It could have been much worse.”
“Should never have happened.” Kit climbed to his feet and helped Beastly stand. He offered him a towel and the bottle of mouthwash. “I should have all of the windows changed.”
“Probably.” Beastly leaned over the sink and rinsed his mouth. He wet the hand towel and wiped his face and shoulders down after stripping off the sweat soaked shirt. “Why don’t you have a mirror in here?”
Kit shrugged, he wasn’t going to explain that he couldn’t stand looking at himself.
Beastly looked over at him, he lifted one eyebrow and nodded. Maybe he understood things about Kit without him having to explain. “No clocks and no mirrors. You’re a strange fish Christopher Auberon.”
Or maybe not.
Beastly didn’t look at him so he couldn’t even sign what he thought of him at that moment. And when he did turn to look at him, Kit couldn’t think of a thing to call him. He looked so tired. His eyes were filled with a combination of pain and fear possibly left over from the dream. He smiled that one sided smile when he caught Kit staring at him. “I miss your smartass voice. It was growing on me.”
Kit smiled with him. It wasn’t an insult. “I miss it too. Hard to call someone a prick when he won’t look at me.”
“I forgot okay? I was used to being told off or flipped off or bitched out. I forgot you…I don’t mean to hurt you, Kit.”
“You didn’t.” Kit backed against the wall while they stared at each other. Beastly’s smile was sad this time. He signed the word sorry without speaking and Kit sent back thank you.
Beastly lapsed into silence. His color was coming back, slowly, and he’d stopped swaying. They stood for a long time neither speaking. “Do you want to talk about…?” Beastly shrugged and dropped his gaze to the floor. “Well, anything.”
“The kiss, the sex, or the shooting?” Kit cringed thinking about all of it. “Or maybe you can tell me who Heath is?”
“He was my partner.” Beastly didn’t even try to pass on the question.
“Partner partner or lover partner?” Kit asked. It could be either.
“Both.” Beastly looked him straight in the eye. “We started out as partners and became lovers.”
“And then he died.” Kit remembered the case. The partner had been killed along with the little girl and Beastly had been left for dead. But most of the details were redacted and he’d yet to figure out how to hack into the office with the actual case files. Government data bases were tricky.
“And I still smell his blood. I’ve never been able to wash that off my hands.”
“Wasn’t your fault.” Kit went over to stand in front of his bodyguard. He knew the small details. They’d been ambushed while moving a child in protective custody. And that was much as he was able to find out.
“Maybe. Maybe not. Depends on who you ask.” Beastly hung his head, he gripped the counter with both hands his knuckles turning white because of the pressure.
Kit hooked a finger under Beastly’s chin and forced him to look at him. He didn’t sign anything. He just touched. Felt weird to touch someone else. His fingers were so pale against Beastly’s tan. His jaw was squarer, his stubble courser…his demons were different and unlike Kit, he seemed to remember all of his. Beastly didn’t touch him back, he looked up at him, as if waiting for something. So Kit kissed him.