Eric
ERIC
grumbled wordlessly as he fumbled with Blaine’s keys. There were so many keys on the ring. How the hell was he supposed to know which was the right one for the apartment?
“Doing alright up there?” Blaine called from the bottom of the stairs.
shot him a glare, which then promptly faltered as he caught sight of Blaine. He was halfway up the stairs, leaning against the wall. He was trying his best not to show the pain, but would bet the man’s head was still throbbing mercilessly. Blaine had insisted he could live with it, but was still going to force a pain reliever down his throat if he had to jam it in there.
“I think I should be asking you that,” grumbled.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re a stubborn jackass is what you are.”
“That makes two of us.”
rolled his eyes, jamming the keys into his pocket and stomping down the stairs to Blaine’s side. He wasn’t going to figure out which key it was anytime soon anyway, and the last thing he needed was for Blaine to tumble back down. They’d only been out of the hospital an hour, and he had no intention of going back if he could help it.
“I said I’m fine,” Blaine huffed.
“Shut the fuck up and c’mon,” growled at him, hooking his arm under Blaine’s good one and helping him up the remaining stairs.
“It’s just a headache,” Blaine complained.
“Good, then we’ll get you in your nice dark room, get you a couple of pills, and you won’t have to worry about it,” told him as they reached the top.
“I’ve hit my head before. I don’t need to be babied,” Blaine protested.
rolled his eyes again, plucked the keys from his pocket, and thrust them at Blaine. “Then use your head and tell me which of these keys is the one to get in. Don’t know why you have so many.”
“Takes two to get in here. Then there’s the one for my truck, my parent’s house, Blake’s place, a storage unit,” Blaine listed them all off, sounding sullen.
restrained himself from telling Blaine it had been a hypothetical statement. He’d honestly never met anyone who was a bigger baby when they were injured than Blaine. Oh sure, the man put on a good show of being an independent, don’t need no man sort of patient, but knew it was a front. Blaine got grumpy, whiny, and stubborn when hurt, even when it was something simple like the common cold. The bump to his head and injured ribs were doing nothing to disprove that theory, either.
“I hate this lock,” Blaine huffed as he tried to unlock the deadbolt.
reached out, grabbed the door handle, and yanked the door so it was flush with the frame. The key in Blaine’s hand turned easily with a muffled clunk as the deadbolt slid free. Blaine gave another huff, this time unlocking the knob itself and flinging open the door with more force than necessary.
“Show off,” Blaine grumbled.
“Right, because this isn’t my first time unlocking a shitty door,” told him, hustling him inside.
Blaine continued to mutter under his breath, unconsciously swapping roles with as he stepped into his apartment. followed, closing and locking the door behind him as Blaine found the light switch.
“Christ, I’m thirsty,” Blaine said as he made his way to the kitchen.
“No alcohol!” called after him, looking around the apartment.
“I know how to treat a head injury, .”
The pouting tone brought a smirk to ’s face as he took in the small apartment. Blaine hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he was living a Spartan lifestyle. There was enough furniture to be comfortable, but there wasn’t much else. Nothing on the walls, not even the furniture style, gave away anything about Blaine’s personality. It was honestly a little depressing.
“So this is what you get after devoting eight years of your life to the government,” muttered.
“What?” Blaine called.
“Nothing, talking to myself.”
“Good conversation?”
“Only way I’m going to get one.”
Blaine chuckled. “You thirsty? I have bottled water and...milk that is probably cottage cheese by now.”
wrinkled his nose. “Jesus, Blaine.”
“What?”
shook his head. “Full-grown man and you can’t keep fresh milk stocked.”
Blaine leaned against the counter, pouting. “I was in the hospital.”
“For, like, two days.”
Blaine smirked, taking a deep drink from his water bottle. wanted to call the man out for intentionally being difficult but found himself distracted by Blaine’s bared throat. Throats didn’t do much for , but he certainly appreciated how it drew his chest up and into view and how Blaine’s thick arms were on display as he tipped the bottle back to get every drop.
“Here,” Blaine said, turning around to grab a bottle out of the pack on the counter. “Get hydrated.”
“Don’t keep them in the fridge?” asked wryly.
“Yeah, I always keep a pack in there, but you don’t like ice-cold water,” Blaine pointed out as he crinkled up the bottle and tossed it in the trash can.
That was true, and once more, was reminded of just how well Blaine knew him. A week ago, the thought would have infuriated him. The idea still sat uneasily in his chest, but he didn’t necessarily think it was a bad thing. He and Blaine still had plenty to discuss, but he was in no rush. Blaine was here, in one piece, and knew more of the truth than before.
He could wait.
“C’mon, let’s get you to bed,” said softly.
Blaine groaned. “I’m fine.”
“Quit arguing with me. I had to yell at too many people to get you home today.”
“You say that like you don’t enjoy yelling at people.”
rolled his eyes, pointing toward the hallway. “Bed. I’ll get you something for the headache.”
“Nothing good, I bet,” Blaine grumbled as he grudgingly obeyed.
“You were the one who told the doctor you didn’t need any ‘baby pills’ before we left, so that’s on you,” said, following behind.
“Not the greatest idea I ever had,” Blaine admitted.
watched Blaine as he entered the room on the right before continuing to what he assumed was the bathroom. The bathroom was even more sparse than the living room, with only a shower liner and things for showering. Thankfully, there was some decent stuff in the cabinet, and he grabbed the migraine medication. Leave it to Blaine to have medical supplies but not even a shower curtain.
When he stepped into the bedroom, stuttered to a stop. Blaine was sprawled on his back on the bed, head on a pillow. His other pillow was wrapped up in one of his thick arms. Steady, soft snoring came from him as his chest rose and fell.
“Good thing he didn’t say he wasn’t tired,” said, rolling his eyes.
With his bottle of water in hand, he walked up to nudge Blaine awake. His partner’s eyes cracked open, peering up at blearily. dropped a few pills into his hand and held out the water. Blaine’s sleepy smile pooled in ’s stomach, warm and welcoming. He waited until Blaine had downed the medicine before taking the bottle from him and setting it on the bedside table.
“And he’s back asleep,” muttered when he turned back toward the bed.
Sighing, he grabbed Blaine’s boots and began unlacing them. “The rest of your clothes are staying on, asshole.”
Blaine muttered something in his sleep as dropped the boots on the floor beside the bed. He looked around the room, finding it in a similar state to the rest of the apartment. The only sign of personality were the pictures on the dresser on the far side of the room.
With a glance toward Blaine, advanced on the dresser. It wasn’t a large collection of photos, but somehow, thought that made them all the more special. There was a picture of Blaine standing atop a mountain ridge, overlooking a breathtaking vista of snow-covered peaks and lush green trees. had no idea where it was, but Blaine stared into the distance, looking at peace.
Another was of him standing in a group of men, a bandage over his eye, his arms flung around the shoulders of the men on either side. They were all wearing fatigues, some with weapons strapped to their backs. Blaine was grinning, though, and the men around him were grinning almost as broadly.
A third showed Blaine with his brother before Blaine had added an extra few dozen pounds to his bulk. The twins were sitting beside a fire, their heads together. It could have been a sweet picture, but could see the smirk on Blaine’s shadowed face, and he’d bet Blake was coming up with a really bad idea for them to act on.
The last was set face down and pushed toward the back. Feeling nervous suddenly, reached out to pick the frame up and look at the picture. It wasn’t, as he’d feared, a picture of the two of them, but of Blaine’s parents. William and Alice Edwards stood side by side, his arm wrapped around her middle, grinning at the camera. William had been young at the time of the picture, looking impossibly handsome and eerily like his sons.
It was strange that the picture was out of sight of all the others. Blaine had always had a good relationship with his parents, and he knew the Edwards had been thrilled when Blaine had announced his enlistment. Then again, he hadn’t heard Blaine mention his parents much, save for the one time, and that hadn’t been with any warmth.
Blaine grumbled in his sleep, an arm flopping over his broad chest. shook his head, setting the picture back where he found it and quietly slipping out of the bedroom. Despite Blaine’s restlessness, was sure the man would sleep for several hours. Blaine had tried to claim he’d got plenty of rest at the hospital, but knew no one got real sleep in a hospital bed.
The apartment was a depressing sight. Nothing of Blaine had bled into the space, and it felt like a display apartment more than anything personal. A peek through the cupboards and fridge wasn’t any help, especially when he saw Blaine was probably right about the milk.
“Do you eat out all the time? Jesus, Blaine,” grumbled, beginning to throw out the old food.
Tossing the food led to wiping down the fridge, which ended with him wiping the counters. He swept the floor and loaded the dishwasher with what little there was to wash.
“Oh, fuck it,” he muttered, yanking the trash bag out of the can.
If he was going to stick around and play nursemaid for Blaine, he would do it with some supplies. There was no way he was going to try to make meals with the meager supplies Blaine kept in the kitchen.
Taking the garbage bag with him, he walked around the small apartment to find anything else that needed to be thrown out. He stopped when a glint caught his eye from the coffee table in the living room. Frowning, he set the bag aside, bending down to pick the object up.
His breath slipped from him when the familiar green color of the stone in the center caught the light. traced his fingers over the etchings. He’d forgotten how heavy the thing was, and he cradled it in his hand.
“You kept it,” said softly, shoulders slumping.
He remembered the first time he’d seen Blaine after eight years, first in Morgan’s office and then in their shared one. had been so furious and embittered by Blaine’s sudden presence that he hadn’t paid much attention. But he remembered seeing a flash of silver on Blaine’s right hand, just the band, but he’d never seen Blaine wear any jewelry since.
“Even then, you were wearing it.”
Blaine must have turned the ring so wouldn’t see it, guessing would have lost his mind if he had. had never seen a hint of it since, meaning Blaine had taken it off and left it at home. But he’d never put it away, never locked it in a box, and thrown it to the back of his closet.
closed his eyes, closing his fingers over the ring, and taking a steadying breath. He’d been an idiot, an asshole, and he’d broken his own heart along with Blaine’s. Why the man was even bothering to try with was beyond him.
But he was trying, and couldn’t throw it back in his face as he had with the ring all those years ago. A wobbly smile spread across his face as he tucked the ring into his pocket, comforted by its presence.
He would have to make a couple of stops before he came back. And then, whenever Blaine was ready, they could talk.