Chapter 9

A shift and the cocoon of warmth and comfort turned into spans of flesh cemented in agony. Reed bit back a cry at the surge of pain, rolled, and almost choked on his tongue when his hand touched a muscular arm. He wasn’t alone in his bed.

Sitting up did not help with the pain.

Or the visions his messed-up head was apparently projecting. Kovit hadn’t done anything to his head, so… All right, the Dom had messed with his head a bit, but mindfucks never had Reed seeing things.

“You’re not real. And I am dying.”

Sounded about right. Fucking perfect scene with one of the few Doms who hadn’t treated him like an untouchable glass ornament and now he was broken. He plopped back down, nearly biting through his cheek.

“Dying wouldn’t be this fucking painful.” He pressed his eyes shut and shook his head. “If I’ve gotta be seeing things, couldn’t he be naked?”

Reaching out, Curtis dragged the second pillow⁠—Reed’s⁠—across the bed and over his head. “Shh.”

Okay so...real? Reed rubbed his hand over his face. He’d come back to his loft still dazed from the adrenaline high and in the zone he craved, but then… Then he’d crashed.

At what point had Curtis shown up?

And why did he smell like he’d gotten in a whiskey sauna?

Shifting to the edge of the bed, Reed stood slowly, his stomach doing flips as every muscle protested the need to ever be used again. He looked down and saw he was still wearing his shorts.

“No surprise there.” He shook his head. “Holy fuck, all that shit last night and I didn’t even get laid.” He glanced over his shoulder at the man he’d been picturing in that spot for a very long time and scowled. Not for the reason he probably was there. “I blame you.”

“If it helps any, I blame me too.” Curtis dropped the pillow so one bleary eye stared back at Reed. “For a lot of things. Like…” Running his tongue around the inside of his mouth, he made a face. “How did I think it was a good idea to do shots with Doc behind the bar?”

“Wanna trade?” Reed spoke under his breath, eyeing the distance between his bed and the door. Getting there was not gonna be fun. Curtis was out of it though, so maybe crawling wouldn’t be too humiliating?

Not that Curtis cared about him being humiliated.

Groaning, Curtis pushed upward, moving gingerly like his head might fall off his shoulders and roll across the floor to join Reed’s sneakers under the dresser. “If you’re awake, I’m awake. How’re you feeling, kid? Need anything?”

“You to stop fucking calling me ‘kid’ would be nice.” Reed shoved off the bed, ignoring the way his eyes teared from the painful throb in his glutes as he straightened. “I’m fine.”

“Hey⁠—” Curtis swung his legs over the edge of the bed, still in his leathers, which he’d unbuttoned at some point and clearly forgotten to re-fasten. “Ow. Fuck. Wait a second.” Grabbing one of Reed’s wrists, he pulled him closer and turned him around to examine his back. “You must’ve been flying high all right.” He ran his hand lightly over Reed’s skin, then pulled him closer as he stood to wrap his arms around his front. “Want breakfast or a shower first?”

Reed chewed on his bottom lip, not sure whether or not he should pull away. He’d never dealt with anyone besides Ezran the morning after an intense scene and he was too raw to even begin to get his guard up. “I don’t know.”

Chin on top of Reed’s head, Curtis hummed, contemplative. “Well, I know I’d want carbs and coffee if I were in your position. If you have no objections, I’m going to make a temporary mess of your kitchen.”

Pulling Reed around, Curtis cupped his cheek and gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Reed swallowed hard, then nodded. “Yeah, I...that’s fine.”

Taking him by the hand, Curtis moved gingerly toward the living room and gave a gentle push to his upper arm that propelled Reed toward the bathroom. “I’ll make breakfast. You use the john first.”

Rubbing his hands over his face, Reed nodded, heading into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He still wasn’t quite sure he wasn’t hallucinating, or maybe having a very painful dream, but if it included seeing Curtis messing around in his kitchen, he’d take it.

Finished relieving himself, Reed washed his hands, then splashed some water on his face. Hands on the edge of the sink he took a few deep breaths to settle the rapid beat of his heart, which responded to his attempt to push past the deep ache that covered him from the back of his thighs to his shoulders. Almost like he could slip back into the zone with the right touch.

Or keep hovering in some strange in between.

Fuck… He shook his head, wondering if he could hunt down one of Doc’s regulars. Maybe they could make sense of how he was feeling. But first he had to get past Papa Bear out there.

His lips curved as some of the night before came back to him. Maybe still a dream? Had Curtis actually held him? Taken care of him? He stilled, faintly recalling a soft ‘Good boy’. Words he’d been dying to hear from the man. His imagination was being a cruel fucker.

Slipping out of the bathroom, he rubbed his eyes and padded into the kitchen.

“Thank God.” Curtis dashed past him into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door. The sound of water falling on water drifted into the loft, along with Curtis’s sigh. “I forgot to get you some pain reliever.” He called to Reed as he washed his hands. “Grab a glass of water. I’ll get the bottle from the bedroom.”

With a nod, Reed automatically went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass. Filled it with water before taking in the rest of the room. He’d been expecting an Ezran-level mess which would’ve made it hard not to completely break down because no way could he clean that this morning without suffering. But he would’ve anyway. Without saying a word to his brother because those kinds of fights were not fun.

Was Ezran still sleeping? Mornings like this he usually left the boy to his own devices, but he needed to at least know what he’d gotten himself up to. He set the glass on the counter and went to check Ezran’s room.

The unmade bed was empty.

Curtis came out of the bedroom with the pill bottle in one hand and the afghan in the other, paused by Ezran’s door and flashed Reed a wry grin. “They’re both at my place. Probably playing video games and eating all of the marshmallows out of my cereal.”

“Oh...okay, that’s good.”

Popping the top on the pill bottle with his thumb, Curtis dumped two out and pressed them into Reed’s hand, his grin widening playfully. “I think you can probably manage these yourself today…” His gaze dropped briefly to Reed’s lips. “But let me know if you need help, yeah?”

Self-consciously running his tongue over his bottom lip, Reed nodded. “Last night…” His brow furrowed. “You gave me some then, didn’t you?”

“It seemed like a good idea. You were crashing hard.” Putting the bottle on Ezran’s dresser, Curtis shook out the afghan and brought it around Reed’s shoulders, stepping close to wrap it snugly around him. “I’m sorry I was a complete asshole last night. Lawson tore me a new one. I’m glad, but…” Shaking his head, Curtis banished the somber expression, and ruffled Reed’s hair. “Well, I can’t have anyone thinking I have too much sense. Law’d make me start doing the books or some other fucked up thing right?”

Reed cocked his head, appreciating the shift in topic that gave him a break from subjects he’d rather avoid. “Dude, do you even math? Lawson’s crazy anal about the books. He double checks when I do inventory for the bar. Takes all day. Don’t let him drag you into that shit, it’s not fun.”

“Oh ye of little faith.” Curtis laughed up at the ceiling. “I have ways of dissuading him—” He tugged the afghan for emphasis. “—and anyone else who tries to pull me into the dark world of bar backing. You always need to practice safe…” Fair skin flushing, he snapped his jaw shut on the next word. “Well, let’s get you fed.”