bumped.
“Yeah.”
“I get to be a kept man?”
Russ bumped back. “For a little while, at least.”
“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”
“You’ll have to cook.”
“Then again.”
Russ glanced to the side. Dave was stifling another yawn.
“Did you not sleep well last night?”
“I was tossing and turning. Didn’t want to wake you up.”
Russ lowered the T-shirt he was trying to fold. “Why did they send you home early?” He kept his eyes on the fabric in his lap.
“I told you. We were done with our tour.”
“Are you sick? Is that why?”
“Russ, why would you ask that?”
A hand closed around his arm. Russ leaned toward the touch.
“You’re so tired, David. More than the time difference would account for. Twenty minutes chasing Austin wiped you out. And you’re so skinny.” He ran a hand over Dave’s abs. “You’re thin and you’re haggard and….” Russ closed his eyes and pressed his face against Dave’s, tears he couldn’t hold back squeezing out. “Please tell me, David. Please . If you’re sick we’ll get through it. But not knowing…. The not knowing is the worst part. I am so fucking sick of not knowing.” Russ dropped the T-shirt to swipe at his tears. “I can get through anything except the not knowing….”
Dave kissed him hard, and they fell back on the couch, wrapped around each other. Russ didn’t try to hide the sobs, kissing his husband through them. The tremors eventually stilled, and they lay on the couch, torsos hugged tight, legs tangled.
“I’m not sick.”
“Oh, thank God.”
Dave squeezed him more tightly, the words soft puffs of breath on Russ’s neck. “It—got bad at the end. The missing you and—other things. I had no appetite. I couldn’t sleep. I’d go to the gym on base and just—run on the treadmill until I wore myself out.”
Russ turned to look at his partner. Dave was crying, silently and without shaking. “Oh, baby. Oh, Davey.” He wiped the tears from Dave’s face. “But you’re okay?”
“Yeah. I just need you. So bad, lover.”
Russ reassured Dave with a kiss, deep and searching. He reversed the roles from the previous night. Now it was Dave pushed back into the cushions, Dave’s mouth getting coaxed open, Dave’s knee hiking up to wrap around Russ’s hip and pull him closer.
“I’m here, David. I’m right—”
“Russell!”
Russ jerked, swearing when Dave’s teeth caught at his lip.
Doris stood in the hallway, a horrified look on her face.
“You promised!”
“And I did not break that promise.”
“But you were—”
“Kissing. Not having sex.” Russ sat up, shoving his hair back out of his face and ruthlessly folding whatever it was he’d grabbed out of the laundry basket.
“Russell! Emily!”
“Is old enough to know what sex is and that I expect her to not engage in it.”
“It’s my fault,” Dave started.
“No, it’s not.” Russ grabbed Dave’s arm and squeezed. “Two consenting adults engaged in a physical expression of mutual love and did not break any promises. So no one has anything to apologize for.” Russ lifted his chin and looked Doris straight in the eye. He knew it was a blatant challenge for her to contradict him.
“Well, I’ll take your word for it.” Doris turned to hang up her coat. “However, I think it would be best if David spends tonight on the couch. Shouldn’t be a fuss, since he slept there last night.” She disappeared back toward the kitchen.
Russ tossed the pair of socks he was trying to fold onto the table and buried his face in his hands.
“Lover?” Dave’s hand rubbed the back of his neck.
“I’m not mad at you. But I refuse to apologize for being there for my husband, whether she agrees with that or not.” Russ kissed Dave again, hard and brief. He turned back to the socks, pulled them apart, staring at them. They didn’t even match each other.
“Russ?” Dave’s hand rubbed a line up his lower spine.
Russ turned to look up at
“Yeah.”
“I get to be a kept man?”
Russ bumped back. “For a little while, at least.”
“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”
“You’ll have to cook.”
“Then again.”
Russ glanced to the side. Dave was stifling another yawn.
“Did you not sleep well last night?”
“I was tossing and turning. Didn’t want to wake you up.”
Russ lowered the T-shirt he was trying to fold. “Why did they send you home early?” He kept his eyes on the fabric in his lap.
“I told you. We were done with our tour.”
“Are you sick? Is that why?”
“Russ, why would you ask that?”
A hand closed around his arm. Russ leaned toward the touch.
“You’re so tired, David. More than the time difference would account for. Twenty minutes chasing Austin wiped you out. And you’re so skinny.” He ran a hand over Dave’s abs. “You’re thin and you’re haggard and….” Russ closed his eyes and pressed his face against Dave’s, tears he couldn’t hold back squeezing out. “Please tell me, David. Please . If you’re sick we’ll get through it. But not knowing…. The not knowing is the worst part. I am so fucking sick of not knowing.” Russ dropped the T-shirt to swipe at his tears. “I can get through anything except the not knowing….”
Dave kissed him hard, and they fell back on the couch, wrapped around each other. Russ didn’t try to hide the sobs, kissing his husband through them. The tremors eventually stilled, and they lay on the couch, torsos hugged tight, legs tangled.
“I’m not sick.”
“Oh, thank God.”
Dave squeezed him more tightly, the words soft puffs of breath on Russ’s neck. “It—got bad at the end. The missing you and—other things. I had no appetite. I couldn’t sleep. I’d go to the gym on base and just—run on the treadmill until I wore myself out.”
Russ turned to look at his partner. Dave was crying, silently and without shaking. “Oh, baby. Oh, Davey.” He wiped the tears from Dave’s face. “But you’re okay?”
“Yeah. I just need you. So bad, lover.”
Russ reassured Dave with a kiss, deep and searching. He reversed the roles from the previous night. Now it was Dave pushed back into the cushions, Dave’s mouth getting coaxed open, Dave’s knee hiking up to wrap around Russ’s hip and pull him closer.
“I’m here, David. I’m right—”
“Russell!”
Russ jerked, swearing when Dave’s teeth caught at his lip.
Doris stood in the hallway, a horrified look on her face.
“You promised!”
“And I did not break that promise.”
“But you were—”
“Kissing. Not having sex.” Russ sat up, shoving his hair back out of his face and ruthlessly folding whatever it was he’d grabbed out of the laundry basket.
“Russell! Emily!”
“Is old enough to know what sex is and that I expect her to not engage in it.”
“It’s my fault,” Dave started.
“No, it’s not.” Russ grabbed Dave’s arm and squeezed. “Two consenting adults engaged in a physical expression of mutual love and did not break any promises. So no one has anything to apologize for.” Russ lifted his chin and looked Doris straight in the eye. He knew it was a blatant challenge for her to contradict him.
“Well, I’ll take your word for it.” Doris turned to hang up her coat. “However, I think it would be best if David spends tonight on the couch. Shouldn’t be a fuss, since he slept there last night.” She disappeared back toward the kitchen.
Russ tossed the pair of socks he was trying to fold onto the table and buried his face in his hands.
“Lover?” Dave’s hand rubbed the back of his neck.
“I’m not mad at you. But I refuse to apologize for being there for my husband, whether she agrees with that or not.” Russ kissed Dave again, hard and brief. He turned back to the socks, pulled them apart, staring at them. They didn’t even match each other.
“Russ?” Dave’s hand rubbed a line up his lower spine.
Russ turned to look up at
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