The month of June had ticked by painfully slowly with Callum always questioning—August? August?—every time they talked. His urgency was rubbing off on Jack and he was finally starting to have hope that even in person he could be the man Callum needed him to be.

They talked nightly, daily—every free second they had, they spent it with each other. Callum had truly turned out to be an unexpected gift and Jack couldn’t wait for August so he could lavish on him all the praise and affection he deserved.

It was the first Friday in July and he was at work, his cell phone locked in his desk so he wasn’t distracted by the increasingly filthy pictures Callum had taken to sending him. He’d chatted briefly with him in the morning before Callum had ended his day and Jack had started his own. He’d woken up feeling cruddy, a sharp stomachache he assumed was from something he’d eaten the night before. He hoped the cramping in his stomach would ease up but, if anything, it was getting worse.

By his lunch break, he was doubled over in pain, his boss insisting that they call him an ambulance. Jack grumbled and fought him on it, in the end giving in only because the pain was too great for him to form words.

Being wheeled into the emergency room was the last thing he remembered before he blacked out.

He awoke hours later in a hospital bed, the nurse informing him his now removed and formerly ruptured appendix was the source of his pain. He’d developed an infection—septicemia—and he was very lucky to be alive. Jack hoped that last part had been for dramatic emphasis, but he couldn’t tell from the nurse’s inflection. In the meantime, he appreciated the pain meds and let himself fall back asleep.

Saturday morning, a much nicer nurse brought him some ice chips and orange jello for breakfast. He stabbed away at the jello with his spoon while he watched TV, well aware of what time it was, and well aware he didn’t have his cell phone to call Callum. He didn’t even know where his clothes were, let alone the keys to his desk. The idea of not being able to get in touch with Callum until he was released poked at him painfully.

He cursed his reliance on technology, remembering when he was younger and had to know phone numbers by heart and was currently now hardly able to remember Callum’s fucking area code.

“They don’t even give you the red flavor?”

A familiar voice from the hallway drew his attention and he looked toward the door to find a tired looking Landon in his room.

“Red isn’t a flavor.” Jack shrugged, fighting back disappointment that Callum hadn’t magically known Jack could have stood to see his face in that moment.

“You’re awake.” Landon sat in the vinyl guest chair and looked appraisingly at him. When he completed his mental inventory of Jack, he said, “You gave us quite a fucking fright, dude.”

“I didn’t mean to. You didn’t need to come.”

“Where’s Joseph?”

“Kentucky.”

“With Bowie?”

Jack nodded and shoved some of the chopped jello into his mouth. Joseph, of course, had been his only remaining local point of contact for emergencies, and he’d left for Kentucky very soon after Jack had seen them last. Jack did have his friends at the shelter, but none of them would be keen on emergency contact status so Jack just never updated it.

“At least it’s not green,” he said, forcing a mouthful of jello down his throat.

“Jack,” Landon finally said, breaking the silence.

“I thought I’d just eaten something off. I didn’t know it was anything serious.”

“You could have died. The doctor didn’t sound positive when he called Verity yesterday, dude.”

Jack rested against the bed. He knew the problem with his appendix had been caught early. He knew how lucky he was. It could have been so much worse. He hadn’t really been all that near death, but he wasn’t going to argue the point with Landon right now.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare anyone, but see? I’m fine. All cleaned out and just a little sore.”

“How long are they keeping you here for?”

“Four days, they said.”

Four days without his phone. Four days without Callum, who was probably going to lose his mind from the silence. Jack thought about stealing Landon’s phone and searching Callum out on social media, but he was sore and he was tired and he didn’t want to explain any of it to Landon until he felt at least marginally better. Maybe tomorrow.

“I’ve always wanted to spend a weekend in July in the hospital in New York. You’ve made all my dreams come true,” Landon told Jack with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

“You don’t need to stay. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you’re fine here for four days, then what are you going to do? I mean come on, do you still live in that shitty little walk-up?”

“God, no. I have a place in East Harlem. Elevator and everything.” Jack puffed his chest then deflated, resting against the pillows.

“What are you going to do about work while you’re healing?” Landon pushed.

“What do you mean, while I’m healing?” Jack would go back to work as soon as he got out of the hospital. He had clients who depended on him.

“You’re joking, right? You seriously cannot expect they’re going to send you out of here with no restrictions. It’s like at least a two week healing time.”

“I’m fine, Landon.” Jack felt annoyed and all he wanted to do was go to work so he could get his damn phone and call Callum.

“You could have fucking died, Jack! You could have died.” Landon yelled at him in a surprising show of emotion.

“Landon…”

“Septicemia, peritonitis. Jack, you cannot go back to work in four days. You’ve gotta take it easy. I’m staying until you’re cleared.”

“This pillow is shit,” Jack said in lieu of addressing Landon’s commitment.

“I’m staying.”

“Whatever,” Jack snarked.

“Thank you.”

“Tell me about Gregory,” Jack said with a sigh, needing a distraction.

“How do you know about him?” Landon asked in shock.

“Verity, of course.”

“Well, next time you talk to Verity, ask them about Aaron for me.”

“Who the fuck is Aaron?”

“Aaron is the half-naked man who appeared behind Verity after the hospital called about you.”

“That’s quite interesting. So, Gregory?”

Was everyone getting real-life laid besides him?

“Gregory is someone from high school who was rude enough to move back to Los Angeles and show up at Rapture.”

“The audacity,” Jack retorted in mock horror.

“We got involved again, and it was good. Really good, to be honest.”

“It sounds like there is a but coming.”

“But then it wasn’t so good.” Landon looked defeated. Tired from travel probably, but an underlying exhaustion that only showed up when your emotions went on overdrive.

“What did you do?”

“What did I do? Why am I the one who did something?”

“You’re a Pisces. You’re a submissive Pisces,” Jack reminded him.

“I don’t even know what that means.” Landon raised his eyebrows incredulously.

“It means you put everyone before yourself and you’re ridiculously emotional about it.”

“We fought.”

“Tell Daddy Jack what happened, Landon,” he teased.

 “He was talking about getting a collar…for me. Well, I mean, even before that, he told me he hadn’t been with anyone serious since we’d been together in school. Then yesterday, he’d left for work and I was getting a pair of socks and I found a collar in his drawer.”

“Oh, you’re like one of those women who ruins her own engagement by snooping.”

“Well, there was definitely a ring there, too. But the collar wasn’t mine.”

“How do you know?”

“It wasn’t like the one he told me he wanted me to have.”

“Weeeellll, did you ask him about it?”

“Of course.”

“Did you ask, or did you get crazy?” Jack angled his chin toward his chest and gave Landon a stern look.

“I don’t get crazy,” Landon stuttered, his face pink.

“Verity said you got crazy.”

“When did you even talk to Verity?” Landon threw his hands in the air.

“They called yesterday after I got out of surgery to let me know you were coming. They said you were upset.”

“Of course I was upset. I thought your blood was going to fucking poison you to death, asshole.”

“About Gregory.”

“I don’t want to talk about him right now,” Landon pouted

“I literally have nothing else to do besides enjoy this chilly air conditioning and draw conclusions while my insides drain. So, if you don’t want to tell me, I’ll guess and you can tell me if I’m right.”

Landon allowed him to continue.

“The collar is yours.”

“He says.”

“You believe him.”

“Do I?”

“Of course you do, or you wouldn’t be so desperate to be mad at him.” Jack shook his head. “You know, Landon, for someone who spends so much time on his knees, you sure have a lot of pride.”

“I do,” Landon conceded

“You do believe him, or you do have pride?”

Landon glared. “Yes.”

“Ha!” Jack winced in pain.

“Maybe I should go back to LA,” Landon mused, “You keep hurting yourself worse.”

“I’ve already committed myself to the idea of you staying, so you’re staying.”

“That was a quick flip.”

“Well, unlike you, my friend, I can admit when my initial reaction was the wrong one.” Jack paged the nurse.

“How are you doing, Mr. Martin?” the nurse asked, appearing with a smile and a gust of perfume.

Jack finessed the nurse into bringing him more jello and he tore into the container and spooned a glob of it into his mouth.

“So, the collar,” he said while he chewed.

“What about it?” Landon asked. “You’re already on to me.”

Then Landon’s eyes zoned out and seemed to disappear into his own head.

“You’re worth it. Just apologize to the man, Landon.” Jack finished his jello.

“Is that the best advice you’ve got, Daddy?”

Landon’s sass, for some reason, made Jack realize how tired he was. Maintaining this facade of wellbeing for Landon was exhausting considering he had a tube draining out of his stomach. All he wanted to do was call Callum. Talk to kitten. Go to sleep.

“I’m gonna wait a bit,” Landon interrupted his thoughts.

“Time will just make it worse.”

“Just a little bit of time,” Landon justified.

Jack sighed and closed his eyes while Landon thought it out. He must have fallen asleep because when he opened them, Landon was gone.