Twenty-Two

 

 

God – how embarrassing, Bas thought as he spit into the can.  “I’m sorry, shit, I’m so sorry.”

A glass of water appeared next to Bas, “Thanks,” he mumbled as he reached to grab it.  But when he felt Ten trying to pull the wastebasket from his grasp, he held tight. “You gonna spew more?” Ten asked.

Bas shook his head, “No but I’m not letting you dump my mess.”

It didn’t take much effort for Ten to pull the can from Bas’ weakened grip, “I’m not asking, grumpy.” He shoved a bottle of mouthwash at Bas, “Rinse and spit,” he said, holding the can out.

Bas wanted to protest but the taste in his mouth was so nasty that it won the argument he was having in his head.

He swirled some of the minty green liquid in his mouth and spit it into the can.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, too embarrassed to make eye contact with Ten.

Ten turned to walk into the attached bathroom, “Stop thanking me, Bas.  I’ve dealt with much worse than this.  Once had to take care of a soldier who got so drunk he started puking and shitting himself.  We ended up stripping him, putting him in the shower and turning the water on to let it wash everything down that was coming out of him.  When the water got cold, I wrapped him in a towel and sat with him next to the toilet for the rest of the night.  So, trust me when I say that this is nothing.”

Bas heard the water turn on as Ten cleaned out the wastebasket.  He was having a hard time overcoming his embarrassment.  He’d been in combat for fucks sake.  He’d been in pain ten times worse than this and shook it off like it was nothing.

“Bas,” Ten said, bringing Bas back to the present moment.  He looked up at Ten.

“Stop it.”

“I can’t help it.”

“Why?  Because you think you should be tougher than this?”

From the way Bas dropped his eyes to his lap, Ten knew he had guessed right - and that shit didn’t fly with him.

He gently cupped Bas’ bruised chin and lifted it, “Sebastian Monroe, don’t you think for one second that you are weak for throwing up.  Our bodies react differently to pain depending on the circumstances we are in.  When we’re in combat, we’ve got enough adrenaline flowing through us to fuel a fucking truck. It helps to mask our pain.  When we deal with pain in an everyday environment it’s entirely different.  Hell, I’ve even cried over a freaking hangnail,” he said with a smile.

Bas smiled back, “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Anytime.  I need to wrap your leg and then we should be done for a while.  I’m going to bring you some more water and then I want you to get some sleep, okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes getting droopier by the second.

Ten stacked a few square gauze pads, put them over the stitched-up wound and then wrapped more gauze around the leg to secure it.  “Jesus, your thighs are fucking huge,” he mumbled as he hefted the muscular, strong leg up by sliding his free arm under the knee.

“Dude,” Bas mumbled.

Ten quickly realized his words could’ve been interpreted wrong and he definitely didn’t want that, “That was a compliment, Bas. You are nothing but pure muscle, but, damn, there’s a lot of that going on,” his eyes scanned up Bas’ body, taking in all the ridges, valleys and mounds created by all the muscles.  This was definitely a man who still worked very hard to maintain his physique.  He nodded his head, “Yeah, a lot of that going on everywhere.”

Ten saw the towel that was placed over Bas’ crotch move as the man’s dick began to plump up.

This was not the time for that, he reminded himself.  He quickly stood from the bed, “You’ll probably sleep better if you’re somewhat horizontal like you are now.  I’ll just go grab some more pillows to help you stay propped up,” he said as he cleaned up the mess he’d made and carried the trash into the bathroom.  By the time he walked back out carrying a refilled glass of water, Bas was sound asleep.

He quietly set the glass on the nightstand, grabbed a few more pillows from the closet and placed them around Bas’ head so he wouldn’t fall over, then he stood back and watched the man for a few minutes. 

Could he do this?  Could he even try?  His hand came up to rub at his aching chest.  He really didn’t know those answers.  What he did know is that, during the few weeks that he and Bas had spent together the man had opened up a hole in the armor that Ten thought was permanently locked around his heart. Ten had felt that fissure begin the first time he’d laid eyes on Bas, but he’d fought the spread of it with everything he had.  And still, without even trying, Bas had managed to crack it open, to blast a hole in it that had no chance of repair, the moment their lips had touched.

And despite Ten still fighting whatever this was between them tooth and nail, running as far from Bas the first moment he could and staying away for almost a year now, Bas was all Ten could think about. The man, his scent, his taste, that kiss - all of him was so firmly embedded in Ten’s mind that he’d think about him without even realizing it….kind of like breathing. 

He longed to repeat that kiss, to taste Bas again. And, fuck, he yearned for so much more - and he was so damn tired of fighting it.