Chapter 8 #2
“I have plenty of space,” Seamus pointed out.
“I realize that, but it’s your space. I don’t want to invade it.”
They drove in silence while Seamus thought about what he could say to convince DJ that he wanted him to move in. As he turned onto DJ’s street and parked in front of his building, he realized the truth was the best option.
“I like having you in my space,” he admitted quietly, still looking straight ahead out the windshield. After some more silence, he turned his head to the right and met DJ’s contemplative gaze.
“I’ll stay with you while I get things figured out. We can call it a trial run, and if it gets to be too much for you, you’ll tell me and I’ll get my own place. No harm, no foul.”
That wouldn’t happen. Seamus didn’t know how he knew that, but he was certain it was true. “Thank you for giving it a chance.”
“I’m the one thanking you here. You’re helping me out a lot.”
Like he had a few minutes earlier, he reached for DJ’s hand and clutched it. DJ was doing him the favor. The relief he felt from finally being allowed to provide his assistance and ease his husband’s stress was immeasurable. And he wanted to do so much more for him.
“Ready?”
He reluctantly released DJ’s hand and nodded. They both exited the truck and walked to the bed. “You’ve had a long day,” he said as he gathered an armful of boxes. “I’ve got this.”
“That makes two of us.” DJ grinned at him as he picked up the rest of them. “As much as I admire the chivalry, you didn’t marry a woman.”
He thought of DJ’s well-developed, defined muscles. “I know.” He swallowed down the moisture in his throat. “I don’t want you to be a woman. I just want you to let me be your husband.”
DJ’s smile softened. “How about you carry all the heavy boxes once we’ve packed them?”
“Deal.”
The street was quiet and empty as they approached the building.
Even with the limited streetlights, Seamus could tell that it had seen better days and wasn’t well-maintained.
Once they got inside and into DJ’s apartment, that observation was confirmed.
He kept his space orderly, which Seamus had anticipated having seen how quick DJ was to put things away and clean up after them when he came over.
But every part of the apartment was run down.
“I guess you can see why they’re demolishing it,” DJ said quietly, his neck and cheeks reddened.
Not wanting him to feel embarrassed about where he lived but also unable to deny the obvious, Seamus focused on the positive. “All I’m thinking about is getting you home.” He set the pile of boxes down and picked up one of them. “Where do you want me to start?”
“Umm.” DJ looked around the small room. “How about the kitchenette? I’ll pack my bathroom things and my clothes.”
With a nod, Seamus went to the kitchen area and got to work. It didn’t take him long to box up everything in it and in the living area. There wasn’t much empty floor space, and between the two of them, they had filled it with boxes. “I’ll take these to the truck and then pack more.”
“Sounds good. We’re actually almost done.”
It only took him a few trips to get the boxes in the car, and as he came back inside, he heard DJ saying something from the bathroom.
“What was that?” he asked as he walked over. “I was outside so I didn’t hear you.”
“Oh, I was just talking to myself. I had too many sodas at work and my brain is so fried that I forgot the water doesn’t work.”
Instinctively, he turned toward the toilet. “Probably doesn’t matter if you can’t flush when it’s going to be…” The words caught in his throat. “Is that blood?” He moved closer and looked in the toilet bowl. “It is.” Heart racing, he flipped around. “We need to go to the hospital now.”
“I’m fine.”
He clutched DJ’s shoulders. “You’re pissing blood. How is that fine?”
“It’s only a little blood.” He set his palms on Seamus’s chest. “It’ll clear up in a few days. Nothing to worry about.”
How was DJ being so nonchalant about something so serious? “This has happened before? Are you sick?”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” he said soothingly, as if Seamus was the one who was hurt.
“Then what it is?”
He pressed his lips together and looked at him appraisingly, as if weighing his options, and then he loudly breathed out. “The loan shark was in town today. He wasn’t happy and he…” He bit his lip.
Mind racing, Seamus put the pieces together.
“He punched you so hard he injured your kidneys.” He flipped DJ around, lifted his shirt, and almost collapsed when he saw the bruises forming over his lower back and flank.
“We’re going to the hospital.” He hunched down and took DJ into his arms, cradling him against his chest.
“Holy fuck,” DJ said breathlessly, his eyes wide. “You are mad strong and this is so hot.”
Seamus jolted, that reaction taking him off guard. “I can’t believe you’re making jokes.”
“Oh, I’m definitely not joking,” DJ insisted. “And I suggest you put me down or I might get the wrong idea.”
“You’re hurt.”
“Yes,” DJ conceded. “But I know my body, and I promise, I’ll heal on my own. I’m not going to the hospital.”
He tightened his grip, bringing DJ closer.
“Seriously, I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse and I heal quickly.”
Heart racing, Seamus considered the implications of that statement.
“Hey.” DJ cupped his cheek and looked into his eyes. “Are you scared?”
“Of course I’m scared! Have you seen what he did to you?”
“I’m sorry. How about this? If I feel anything serious or if the blood doesn’t clear up by the end of the week, I’ll see a doctor.”
He hated that plan but he strongly suspected it was the best one he’d be offered. “You take off work and rest until that happens and you have a deal.”
“I can’t not work,” DJ said, panicked.
“You’re allowed to call in sick. People do it all the time.”
“Well, I don’t. And I need the money,” he said stubbornly.
Seamus wasn’t bothered by much and he generally let things roll off his back, but not this.
“You do now. And I’m going to help you figure out your money situation.
We’re going to talk about it at home.” He carefully evaluated DJ’s face.
“Tomorrow. Tonight, we’re getting you cleaned up and then you’re going to sleep.
Text Brewster and Tanner and Brent right now. ”
DJ jutted his chin out in protest.
Two could play at that game, so Seamus arched his eyebrows and stared him down.
“Fine. But you have to let me go so I can get my phone.”
“Where’s your phone? I’ll get it.” He walked out of the bathroom, DJ still in his arms.
“It’s in the front pocket of my tight jeans, and I swear to God, Seamus, if you try to get it yourself while you’re holding me bridal style, you will be giving me a very specific message.
” He searched Seamus’s eyes. “I usually find your cluelessness about all things romantic charming but I need you to understand what I’m saying. ”
His heart was racing and his mind was all over the place. “You’re hurt,” he said again, ignoring what he very much understood DJ was saying.
“That is actually not my primary feeling right at this moment.”
Seamus stared at him, and after several long seconds, DJ sighed.
“Alright, I’ll take your deal. Put me down, I’ll text everyone and tell them I’m taking a few days off, and then we’ll go to your house where I’ll imitate a sloth under house arrest.”
It was what he had asked for, but still, he struggled to take that first step, every molecule in his body protesting at the thought of letting DJ go.
“Seamus? Do you want to put me down?”
No, no he did not. He really, really didn’t.