Chapter 3 #2
Tarius had been a lifeline these last few days, accepting Branson’s hysterical phone calls when Caden was first hospitalized, listening to his rants about drugs and the criminals who’d poisoned his brother.
Tarius had even taken Branson out for dinner last night, just to get away, and they’d hugged in the front seat of Tarius’s car for a long time.
He loved Tarius’s hugs. He adored how supportive his friend—his very best friend, really—was during all this.
Emory surprised him by returning home around noon, wrung out and pale, and he came to Branson for a hug. “Dad made me come home to take a nap,” Emory said. “And to get some cuddle time with my boys.”
“Good. You won’t help Caden by ending up in a bed beside him, suffering from exhaustion. You’ve had one heart attack already.”
“I know. I hate being apart from him, but he’s…peaceful now. I really think he’s going to be okay. We just have to be patient and let him wake up.”
Branson’s lips twitched. “Because goddess knows Caden likes to do things at his own pace.”
“Yup.”
At ten months old, the triplets were getting good at holding onto surfaces to stand and move around.
Shylo was attempting to climb over the cushion wall while calling out for Dada.
Emory strode over, scooped his baby alpha up, and hugged him tight.
Sometimes Branson still marveled at the sight of Emory holding his own child—never mind that he had three.
Branson returned to dusting the living room shelves.
The doorbell rang a while later, and since he was closest to the front door, he walked over.
Checked the peek hole. His heart gave a happy lurch at the sight of Tarius on the front porch, bundled up in his winter coat and scarf. He also held two large pizza boxes.
“Hey there,” Branson said as he pulled open the door. “What’s this?”
“Lunch.” Tarius came inside so Branson could shut the door against the freezing air. “I wasn’t sure who’d be home.” His bright smile and direct attention clearly said he was happy Branson was there.
“Dude, do I smell pizza?” Frey asked as he appeared from the dining room. “Oh, cool, hey Tarius. You brought pizza? Or did you meet the delivery guy on the sidewalk?”
Tarius laughed. “I brought it directly from Little Nino’s.”
My favorite pizza place. He remembered.
“You’re the best,” Branson said. “Bring it into the kitchen, so we can get plates and drinks.”
“This is great,” Frey added. “I’ve been craving pizza all week.” He pressed a hand over his barely rounded belly. “This little one has wanted all the cheese and black olives lately.”
“I didn’t order black olives,” Tarius said. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay, I think Emory keeps a jar in the fridge.”
Frey got paper plates, while Branson pulled a two-liter bottle of cola out of the fridge.
The interior was sparse, but no one was really cooking or doing much eating at home right now.
One pizza was a meat lover’s, the other plain cheese.
Branson pulled a bottle of ranch dressing out of the fridge, too, for dipping his crusts in, something he’d done since he was a child.
Frey found a nearly-empty jar of black olives.
Tarius produced the red pepper flakes, even though he didn’t like it.
Only Branson did.
Tarius sat next to him at the island countertop, while the three omegas rotated in for slices in between watching the triplets.
Branson had no words for how much he appreciated the kind gesture from Tarius.
Taking care without smothering. Showing up without demanding Branson talk. They existed in silent solidarity.
The solid, steady support was everything.
Branson had tucked away his first slice, and he was contemplating another when his mobile rang.
“It’s Dad,” he announced to Tarius and to Khory, who was refilling his cup of soda. “Hey, Dad? Update?”
“He’s awake,” Dad said, his voice thick but so full of joy that Branson choked. “Caden’s awake. He seems okay, but he’s really groggy.”
“Thank fuck.” Branson repeated the words, then shouted for Emory. Everyone needed to know the good news as soon as possible. “So, there’s no permanent damage?”
“The doctor wants to keep him in hospital for a few more days, but he’s talking and asking questions, and he’s doubting who’d actually want to come see him, which is so ridiculously Caden. I just…I can breathe again.”
Emory bolted into the room, and Branson switched the call to speaker. “We can all breathe again now that Caden’s awake,” Branson said, smiling at Emory through watering eyes.
Emory burst into tears, and Khory wrapped him up in a tight hug.
“Don’t cry, baby boy,” Dad said. “He came back to us, okay? Hold that tight until I can give you a hug.”
“He’s nodding,” Branson said, since Emory couldn’t.
“Good. Hopefully, they’ll move Caden out of ICU later tonight, maybe tomorrow morning, we aren’t sure. I’ll call Braun, but can you start telling your friends?”
“Absolutely.” Everyone would be thrilled to know Caden had turned a corner. Branson was still dizzy with relief and gratitude that the goddess had seen fit to spare his brother. That their family had, once again, been blessed. “Give him a hug from all of us?”
“Absolutely. I love you boys.”
“Love you, Dad.” After Emory mumbled something similar, Branson ended the call. He wanted to dance, to scream, to do any number of things to expel all the emotions bubbling up inside him.
He shocked himself by standing, crossing the kitchen, and going outside to the cold backyard.
He walked to the oak tree and pressed his palms against the rough bark.
Let the chilly air caress his face and cut through his clothes.
Caden was awake. He wasn’t completely out of the woods, Branson knew that without Dad expressly saying it, but it was progress.
He tried to hold tight to the joy and ignore the fear.
“Bran?” Tarius. Close by.
He didn’t expect the warm weight of his winter coat to settle on his shoulders. He turned, and his heart melted into mush at the sweet, sympathetic look on Tarius’s face.
“It’s a unique kind of relief, isn’t it?” Tarius asked softly. “I remember when Layne was so depressed that he jumped over a waterfall, and for a little while, we didn’t know if we were going to lose him. You’re terrified. And then he wakes up, and you feel like you can breathe again.”
“Yeah.”
That was exactly it. Branson had been holding his breath for days—maybe months, if he was honest with himself—and now he could breathe. He was tired of choking, tired of struggling for every breath. He wanted his family safe, damn it.
“It’s okay,” Tarius whispered.
Unsure exactly what was okay, Branson let it all go.
He fell into Tarius’s arms and sobbed against his shoulder, so grateful when his friend held him close.
Tightened his arms around Branson’s waist and kept him from falling.
They stood under the tree for a long time, while Branson worked through his emotions.
He hated crying. He especially hated crying in front of other people.
But Tarius was safe. Vulnerability in front of Tarius was safe.
He could be a human-fucking-being with Tarius, instead of the calm, stoic big brother everyone expected him to be.
Everything came out in torrents of tears, and at some point, they were sitting on the ground, against the trunk of the tree, his tears slowly drying up.
“I’ve got you,” Tarius whispered, over and over.
He wiped tears from Branson’s cheeks with his thumbs, then pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.
The first time he’d ever done so. The touch helped settle more of Branson’s raging upset, and he leaned more heavily against Tarius’s chest. He liked being held this way, by someone he trusted implicitly.
Someone whose touch relaxed him, rather than unnerved him.
Someone he could sit with and be perfectly content.
Accepted.
Safe.
Except for his freezing cold butt.
Branson didn’t let go, not yet. The moment was too damned perfect, despite the cold that eventually sent a sharp shiver down his spine.
Tarius chuckled. “It’s a little nippy. You ready to go inside?”
“I think so.” He met Tarius’s dark eyes and smiled. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, and I mean that. I know we’ve only become close friends in the last half-year, but you’re…important to me, Branson. I’ll always be here for you.”
“Thank you. And same. Your friendship means so much. You’re the best friend I’ve got who isn’t related to me somehow.”
“You’ve become one of my best friends, too.” Tarius cleared his throat. “Um, I was thinking, once Caden is home and settled, would you want to hang out? Like, maybe go see a movie? Get drinks?”
If it had been anyone else asking, Branson would have thought he was asking him out on a date. But Tarius was so casual, so aw-shucks about the invitation, that Branson didn’t take it as more than chilling with a friend. “Definitely. Gosh, I haven’t been to a movie in ages.”
“Then we’ll do that. When you feel comfortable.”
“Honestly, my parents would probably tell me to go do it, so I stop worrying about Caden for a few hours. But I do want to see him today, so maybe tomorrow night? Is that okay for you?”
“Tomorrow is great. I usually get out of the office by six. Speaking of which.” Tarius glanced at his wristwatch. “I need to get back. I’ve blown my lunch hour. Not that my boss will be cross with me.”
Branson snorted. “No pun intended?”
Tarius blinked then laughed. “Yeah, no pun intended.”
They helped each other stand, and Branson was grateful for the warmth of the house.
He wasn’t huge on the outdoors, and he especially disliked the cold.
He had no idea how people survived farther north, where it snowed and everything iced over for months at a time.
Not that he was much fonder of the incredible, constant heat he heard they got year-round in the south.
He walked Tarius to the front door, where they shared another tight hug. Tarius kissed his forehead again, and Branson melted inside. Most of his friends regularly kissed each other on the cheek, and no one thought much of it. This felt…different. Warmer. Almost protective.
And from a handsome, older man he trusted? Infinitely more special.
“Text me later and we’ll figure out a movie,” Tarius said.
“I will.”
Branson waited at the door while Tarius walked to his car, got in, and drove away. Something had shifted between them today. Something good. He didn’t know what it meant, but he knew he liked it.