Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Bay was exhausted. What had started with a fever and an ear infection with Flynn had turned into all four kids with a terrible bout of the flu. Four whole days of fevers, puking, and crying. He felt like he’d gone to war, and he wasn’t sure he’d won.
Tonight was the first night the kids had all gone down easily and—so far—stayed down. He sat in front of the TV, just staring at it. It wasn’t even on, but he couldn’t bring himself to gather the energy to find the remote.
Pete brought him a beer, touched his forehead as if to make sure he didn’t have a fever.
“Thanks.” He shook his head. “I don’t feel sick. Just… shattered.” The worry, the lack of sleep, the having to deal with four miserable and cranky kids.
“Yeah. Have the beer. I ordered a pizza. I’m too tired to cook.” Pete wandered around the living room, picking up.
“Stop that. Just come and sit. It’ll all still be there in the morning. And pizza sounds really good. You get a meatlovers?” He’d discovered that he really liked a meatlovers.
“I did. With extra sausage.” Pete plopped down next to him and cuddled right in. “Hey.”
He put his arm around Pete’s shoulders. “Hey yourself. Is it always like this when they’re sick?” And how did they make sure the kids were never sick again? Because he would pay good money not to have to go through the last four days ever again.
“This one was pretty bad, but yeah, if they all get it, it sucks. Wait until they’re sick, and you get it first. That’s so much fun.”
“I can’t believe neither of us has gotten it,” he admitted. They’d had slobber, snot, and tears all over them.
“Who knows, we might wait for two weeks and get it then. I have no way of knowing.” Pete winked at him. “There was a lot of Lysol involved.”
“God yes, my hands are raw from all the damn washing.” He sighed, leaned his head back. “I think we should turn on the TV or I’m going to be asleep before the pizza shows up.”
“Find something fun.” Pete rolled his eyes and grinned.
“I don’t have the remote,” he complained.
Pete laughed at that, stretched to grab it off the coffee table, and offered it to him.
“Ah, thank you.” He turned the TV on and started scrolling.
Pete was warm and solid as a rock against him, a soft hum filling the air.
He rested his head on Pete’s. It was cozy and comfortable and far, far better than running from room to room, dealing with sick kids.
That was awful, and he didn’t want to ponder how many times it might happen.
No, they were having a bit of a break now, and he was going to enjoy the quiet and Pete being close. He pressed a kiss to the top of Pete’s head, before turning his attention back to the television. He finally settled on a show about ugly houses.
Pete got the pizza when it showed up, refusing to allow anyone to ring the bell. Good man.
“Goodness, I’m actually drooling.” They hadn’t had anything substantial to eat in four days, just grabbing bits and pieces as they could. Lots of soups, cereal, and the odd sandwich.
Pete didn’t even bother with plates—just paper towels and the box—and they dug in.
He was three pieces in before he came up for air. The grease and meat and cheese and bread just perfect. He sighed happily as he ate the last bite and pondered a fourth piece.
“Right? So good. I just wanted something lazy and greasy and yummy.” Pete grinned at him and rolled his eyes a little bit. “I swear. I don’t think a pizza’s ever tasted this good.”
“Yeah. I guess it’s the circumstances more than anything else, but I’m going to have that extra piece, and if I burst open from it, then I burst open from it.
I apologize in advance for the mess you’ll have to clean up if that happens.
” God, he was punch drunk or something. His own weird silliness did not stop him from grabbing and eating that fourth piece of pizza though.
Pete snorted and started giggling. “You are a nerd. I love it. I promise that if you explode, I’m just going to run out of the house screaming.”
He gasped, putting his hand over his heart in mock dismay. “And leave the kids?”
Pete pondered it. “If you literally exploded?” He groaned. “I hope not, but probably. Probably I would just panic and run out screaming. And then I’d run back in and step over your brains and your chunks and go get the kids.”
Bay cackled, tickled that Pete had actually given it enough thought to give a detailed response.
“I’ll try not to explode,” he offered, taking another bite of his fourth slice.
“Fair enough.” Pete grabbed another piece of pizza himself.
Bay managed to finish that last piece—without exploding—and then finished his beer, which was the perfect accompaniment. The only problem was that now he was stuffed and had had a beer, not to mention sleep deprived, and he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to keep his eyes open much longer.
“Want to take your beer to bed, that way we can collapse there?” Pete was so good to him.
“Sounds great. I’m pretty sure I won’t be awake for even five minutes once I’m prone,” he warned.
“Fair enough. I may make it eight.”
“Ooo. A whole eight minutes.” He chuckled, stole a kiss.
“I know. I’m a stud.” Pete cracked up, shaking his head.
“I have discovered a problem with your plan to go to bed.”
Pete’s eyes went wide. “What? What’s wrong?”
“We have to move.” And his body was telling him, pretty clearly, that it didn’t want to have to move a muscle.
“Ah. Yes. I get it. I also know that I don’t love sleeping on the sofa. It’s neck-cricky.”
“You’ve spent the night here before, have you?” He could picture it, Pete sacked out, drooling.
“God yes. Too many times.”
“So we should try to make sure we don’t pass out down here, I guess.” Moving still wasn’t sounding particularly fun.
“Uh-huh. Come on. I’ll help.” Pete stood and held out one hand for him.
“You’re just trying to get me into bed.” He waggled his eyebrows, but he also took Pete’s hand and let the man help him get vertical.
“Nah. We both barely fit in my bed, but I am into time with you.”
“We’d both fit great in my bed,” he noted. That was a clear offer, right?
“Yeah?” Pete met his eyes, the worry just barely obvious. “I guess I have to go in there sometime, don’t I? It’s not a sacred space.”
“Not if you don’t want to.” All the old worries rose up. “It’s totally up to you.”
“I do. I want to be with you. It’s your room now.”
“Okay. Then, come on up. Or help me get up there with you. Whatever. Let’s go to bed.”
“Yes.” Pete held his hand, squeezing his fingers tight.
They headed up together, and Bay admitted, the stairs seemed really steep today, but they finally got there and he opened the door to his room. “Come on in.”
Pete came in, but Bay wasn’t worried—he’d changed the furniture, the mattress, the art. Everything.
“The bed’s not made.” There were clothes on the floor, too. He hadn’t exactly been worried about cleanliness in his room the last few days.
“It’s fine. We’re just fine.” Pete was already stripping down.
He sat on the edge of the bed and watched. He was too tired for anything, but he did enjoy watching Pete get naked.
Pete left his boxer briefs on, sliding into the covers.
Oh. He needed to get undressed and join Pete before he fell asleep sitting on the edge of the mattress.
Pete found something easy on television and piled the pillows up so they were comfortable.
There was something special about being able to just lie there with Pete and zone. No need to talk, to be on, to do anything but just be.
Pete’s cheek was warm against his shoulder, hand solid on his belly. He could so get used to this. He’d like to get used to it without the four days of sickness and the exhaustion preceding it.
He stroked Pete’s hair, fingers tangling in the soft curls.
“Mmm… feels nice.”
“Feels good from this side, too.” He kissed the top of Pete’s head. It felt good, having someone to share this with.
Pete sighed softly, humming to himself. Bay thought, maybe, he might be able to get some sleep.
He left the TV on but settled in a little more, half curling around Pete.
He thought he wanted this—not just tonight. Every night.
Yeah, that sounded like a good thing.