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numb3rsflashficTitle: Complicated
Pairing/Characters: Don/Colby
Rating/Category: PG13/Pre-slash
Word Count: 2767 words
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Colby needs Don’s help, but it’s complicated.
Notes/Warning: H/C; crack. Ever since![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
umbralillium mentioned the shifter challenge she was considering, I haven’t been able to get the idea out of my head. I’ve been thinking of a story for that challenge, but this is not that story. This is a different story. *g*
Written: December 5, 2008
Colby tore strips off his t-shirt, wadded one up and packed the wound to stop the bleeding, then wrapped one strip over his shoulder and under his arm, knotting it with his one good hand and his teeth. Thankfully it was a through and through, but it still hurt like a son of a bitch. He could definitely use a painkiller, but then he wouldn’t trust himself behind the wheel, and he needed to get home so he could clean out the wound before it started to heal.
Halfway back to the main road, Colby was already regretting his decision to drive deeper into the National Forest before starting out on foot so he could get further away from the trappings of civilization that encroached upon the wilderness. Every little bump jarred his shoulder. By the time he reached the highway, Colby knew that he wasn’t going to be able to take care of this by himself.
It only took Colby a moment to decide who to call. He was already driving one-handed, so getting his cell phone out and pressing the speed dial for David wasn’t as easy as it sounded. He swore when it went to voice mail. He couldn’t just leave a message, since he had no idea where David was, or if he’d be able to get away.
Colby dropped the phone into his lap and concentrated on driving, trying not to think about the ache in his shoulder. David might not be readily available, but Colby still needed help. Sighing, he took control of the wheel with the fingers of his injured arm and his right knee, then picked the phone back up from his lap. He pressed the speed dial for Don and prayed that it didn’t roll over to voice mail.
“Eppes.”
Colby was caught off guard by the fact that Don had actually answered, and it took him a moment to say, “Don?”
“Hey, Colby, what’re you doing calling in on your day off?”
Colby could hear the smile in Don’s voice, which somehow made this even harder. He decided to postpone having to ask Don for a favor by seeing if he could maybe somehow still reach David. He said, “Hey, Don, I, uh, need to talk to David, is he around?”
“No, Liz pinged him, so he’s filling in over there. Why, what’s up?”
It had been a longshot, but Colby was still disappointed. He’d called Don because he trusted him, but their situation, with Don being his boss, was a little different than his relationship with David. Plus, he and David had taken the time to work things out, and, after keeping it to himself for so long, Colby had been pretty certain that he could trust David with his secret. Well, there was nothing for it; at this point he didn’t have a choice.
“Oh, okay. Well, I, um, I need some help, Don.”
“What’s wrong?”
Don’s tone went from jovial to dead serious and Colby could almost see Don sitting up and paying more attention.
“Listen, I need a friend, Don, not an FBI agent, a friend, so if you can’t do that, can’t leave that behind, then I’ll think of something else,” Colby said, even though he had no idea who he’d call if Don wouldn’t help him.
“Where are you, Colby?”
“I just got off the highway; I should be at my apartment in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
Don sounded like he was already on the move.
“Colby?”
“Yeah?” Colby said, almost sobbing it out in relief.
“Are you okay?”
“I will be. Hurry, okay?”
*~*~*
Colby jolted awake when Don knocked on his window, and then grimaced when the movement sent a lance of pain through his shoulder. He reached across his body with his right arm and opened the door.
“Jesus Christ, Colby, what the hell happened to you?”
“Just get me upstairs. Please.”
Colby couldn’t hold back the moan as Don helped him slide out of the truck, then maneuvered him around so he could get his shoulder under Colby’s good arm. They managed to get up to Colby’s apartment without running into any of his neighbors, and Don hadn’t asked any more questions, though Colby could tell that he was dying to.
Don got Colby into the kitchen and lowered into one of the chairs. “Med kit’s under the sink in the bathroom.”
“You gonna be all right?”
Colby nodded, and then Don disappeared out the kitchen door. Colby took deep, slow breaths; in through his mouth, out through his nose. He heard Don’s footsteps moving away down the hall, heard the cabinet door open and close, then footsteps as he returned to the kitchen.
Don didn’t say anything as he set the retrofitted tackle box on the kitchen table and opened it. Colby had it stuffed with everything from gauze and iodine to knee wraps and ice packs to needle and thread. He knew from experience that the so-called first aid kits sold in stores were only good for the smallest injuries, cuts and bug bites, and so had created his own.
“I’ll try to be careful,” Don said.
“I know.” Just like he knew that it didn’t matter how careful Don tried to be, it was still gonna hurt like hell.
“What happened?” Don asked as he started picking at the knot.
“Had an accident while I was hiking,” Colby said through gritted teeth.
“You should’ve gone straight to the hospital.”
“Couldn’t.”
Colby tried to keep breathing through the pain as Don unwrapped the makeshift bandage and removed the blood soaked packing.
“Fuck, Colby, this is a gunshot wound!”
“I know.” Colby moaned when Don prodded the wound. “It was a through and through.”
“Someone shot you while you were out hiking?”
“It was an accident,” Colby repeated. It was partially true; the hunter had hit what he was aiming at, he just hadn’t realized that his prey was human.
“Damn it, Colby, you need to report this to the authorities,” Don argued even as he set about cleaning the wound.
“Can’t.”
“I can’t cover this up.”
Colby grabbed Don’s hand. “Then go. Now. I’ll finish.”
Don shook Colby’s hand off. “Don’t be an ass.”
Don finished cleaning Colby’s shoulder in silence. He packed it with antibiotic ointment and gauze, re-bandaged it, and then stood back. “You probably need stitches.” He sighed. “Can you at least tell me how this happened?”
Colby shook his head, but he was so tired from having to keep it together during the interminable walk back to his truck, his attempt to stop the bleeding, the drive back to LA, and then making sure he didn’t give anything away to Don, he wasn’t sure if it was actually moving or not. “I was accidently shot while I was hiking in the forest. I can’t say more than that, I’m sorry. Please believe me, I would tell you if I could.”
“Here.”
Don held out a pill and a glass of water. Colby hadn’t even heard him get either, which meant he was in worse shape than he’d thought. He took them without complaint, happy to be rid of the pain.
“Okay, I’m good now,” Colby said, hoping to get rid of Don before he did anything embarrassing. “Thanks.”
*~*~*
Colby woke to the soothing sensation of someone stroking his head behind his ears, every few strokes going down his neck before returning to rub his ears. It felt wonderful. He purred and rolled to his back to stretch, then yelped and whined as he was reminded of the gunshot wound in his shoulder.
“Careful,” Don said softly.
That was when Colby realized that he’d shifted in his sleep and was lying with his head in Don’s lap. Colby froze.
The hand on his head didn’t stop petting him.
“I take it this is why you couldn’t tell me what happened out there?”
Colby wondered if he could get away with pretending that he hadn’t heard Don’s question, or didn’t understand it in this form.
“I know you’re awake and can hear me.”
Probably not.
Colby carefully rolled back to his side, then tilted his head back and looked at Don.
“So, what happened, some hunter thought he’d bag himself a big cat?”
Colby sighed, and then allowed himself to shift back. Shifting didn’t hurt, but it felt like his body was being stretched out like taffy, and then getting stuffed back into its proper shape. As soon as he’d shifted back, Colby rolled to a sitting position and swung his legs over the edge of the bed so that he was sitting up with his back to Don.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “I’d hoped you’d be gone before I shifted.”
“You shifted in your sleep,” Don said. “I was on the phone with Nikki, checking in and letting her know that I’d be out of the office for the rest of the day, watching you sleep, and then suddenly, you shimmered, and then you were gone and a big cat lay on your bed.
“Yeah, well . . . sorry if I scared you.”
“You didn’t scare me, and I don’t want you to be sorry, Colby. I just want to understand. About what happened, I mean.”
Now that Don knew about him, and hadn’t freaked out, Colby figured the least he could do was tell him what had happened out in the forest.
“Got shot by a hunter,” Colby said, almost embarrassed. He still couldn’t believe he hadn’t sensed the man long before he’d felt the hot sting of the bullet tearing through his shoulder.
“And you couldn’t go to the hospital because . . . ?”
“Because when they call the police, what am I gonna say, that I got shot by a hunter? And if they find him, he’s going to say he shot at a mountain lion and there was no one else around, and even if they believe me, he’s going to get charged with shooting a human when he thought he was shooting an animal, even if it’s just assault, or something, and he’ll keep insisting that there were no humans around, and if he insists long enough, and loudly enough, people might start asking questions . . . .”
“Okay, okay, take a breath.”
Somewhere during his rant, Don had slid across the bed and started rubbing Colby’s back. Colby took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Sorry.”
“No, no, I get it, you’ve got to think of all the consequences.” Don paused. “So maybe next time you shouldn’t go out alone.”
“Sometimes I just need to get out someplace where I can run, and no one here knows. Knew.” Colby shook his head. “I just . . . it’s not something you can just blurt out, you know?”
“Yeah, well, somebody knows now, and you’re not going off alone again.”
When Colby didn’t respond to that right away, Don added, “I can make it an order, if you want.”
Colby snorted.
Don squeezed Colby’s good shoulder. “Let me check your wound; the bandage got a little screwed up when you, uh, changed.”
“Shifted,” Colby automatically corrected. “And it’s fine.”
“Let me check anyway.”
Colby rolled his eyes but let Don unwrap the bandage.
“I saw that.”
Colby laughed, which made his shoulder ache a little bit. “Ow.”
“Don’t laugh,” Don warned softly, which only made Colby laugh again.
“Sorry, man, I’m feeling a little punchy.”
“Yeah, well, getting shot and being on painkillers‘ll do that to you.”
Or relief, Colby though. Relief could do that to you, too. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders, being able to share who he was, who he really was, with someone.
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For not freaking out.”
“Yeah, well, talk to me tomorrow about that.”
“Yeah.”
When Don had carefully pulled the gauze away from the wound, he looked at it closely, then said, “It’s already started healing.”
“Yeah. I, uh, heal better in my other form. I figured I’d shift as soon as I was knocked out; I’d just hoped you’d be gone before it happened.”
Don re-wrapped the bandage around Colby’s shoulder. When he was done, he left his hand laying on Colby’s biceps, below the strip of gauze. “You’re probably hungry.”
Colby was surprised to realize that he was. “Yeah, actually, I guess I am.”
“What are you in the mood for? If you’ve got something simple in the cupboard, like soup, I can heat that up, or we can order out.”
“You don’t need to babysit me, Don.”
“Just answer the question, Colby,” Don said.
“Soup’s fine. I got some bread from the bakery we can heat up to go with it, as long as it’s still good.”
“Sounds good. I’ll go get that started, then. You should get dressed.”
Colby felt the blood rush to his skin. “Yeah,” he said, making a point not to look down, where he knew his body had reacted to Don’s nearness, his touch, “I’ll do that.”
“Since we’re revealing secrets today, tell me something before I go do the soup. Is that a reaction to me, or just to the situation?”
“I don’t recall you revealing any secrets today,” Colby said, stalling, the flush getting deeper.
“Okay, yeah, that’s true. My turn, then.” Don took a deep breath, then said, “I want it to be for me.”
Colby didn’t know what to say to that. He could probably tell the truth, and then blame the painkillers if things went south.
“All right, wait, I know what you’re going to say, we’re even now. You’re right, so I’ll go again. I’m glad you called me today.”
“Oh. I . . . . Well, I’m glad that you’re glad,” Colby said. “And, uh . . . .”
“Too much,” Don said, “or bad timing, or both. Look, I’m sorry. I’ll just go heat up that soup for you.”
Don started to climb off the bed; Colby reached round with his good hand and grabbed Don’s arm. He waited until Don’s eyes met his, then said, “You.”
“Oh.” Don smiled. “Well, good.”
“Is it?”
Don frowned, and Colby continued. “I mean, with work and . . . everything, it’s complicated.”
Don pressed a kiss to Colby’s lips. “Most good things are,” he said, and this time when he climbed off the bed, Colby let him go.
Alone, he thought about how easy this had been, telling Don about his shifting abilities and admitting that he had feelings for Don. Maybe, he thought, it was just that easy with the right person. When the goose bumps got too large to ignore, Colby finally got up and found a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt, then padded out to the kitchen where Don was making him -- them, making them -- something to eat.
They ate in the living room, the television tuned to the highlights on ESPN. The soup and warm bread hit the spot, and when Don took the dishes out to the kitchen, telling Colby that he’d better stay on the couch and rest or Don would put him on desk duty for a week, Colby just smiled and let himself sink into the couch.
Colby slowly drifted towards sleep, the sounds of Don in his kitchen and the voices droning on the television his lullaby. He felt Don’s hand in his hair, and then Don knelt beside the couch and said, “Are you okay like this, or do you need to, uh, shift? You said you heal better in that form.”
Don was right, Colby did need to shift, and if he didn’t do it now, his body would do it for him after he’d fallen asleep. Don helped him stand and take his clothes off, and while it felt nice to have Don’s hands on his skin, Colby didn’t have it in him right then for it to be more than pleasant.
“Here, before you shift.”
Don picked up the pill and glass of water he’d set on the coffee table before kneeling beside Colby, and Colby obediently took both from him.
Colby sat on the couch before he shifted, then sprawled out, leaving just enough room for Don in the corner. Colby stared at him, and Don took the hint. He sat down, bringing the remote with him. Don put his feet up on the coffee table and Colby dropped his head into Don’s lap.
Don petted behind his ears and Colby purred happily. Just before he fell asleep, Colby heard Don say, “I always wanted a cat,” then laugh when Colby growled at him, the menacing effect ruined by the way he stretched and purred under Don’s hand.
The End
Pairing/Characters: Don/Colby
Rating/Category: PG13/Pre-slash
Word Count: 2767 words
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Colby needs Don’s help, but it’s complicated.
Notes/Warning: H/C; crack. Ever since
umbralillium mentioned the shifter challenge she was considering, I haven’t been able to get the idea out of my head. I’ve been thinking of a story for that challenge, but this is not that story. This is a different story. *g*Written: December 5, 2008
Colby tore strips off his t-shirt, wadded one up and packed the wound to stop the bleeding, then wrapped one strip over his shoulder and under his arm, knotting it with his one good hand and his teeth. Thankfully it was a through and through, but it still hurt like a son of a bitch. He could definitely use a painkiller, but then he wouldn’t trust himself behind the wheel, and he needed to get home so he could clean out the wound before it started to heal.
Halfway back to the main road, Colby was already regretting his decision to drive deeper into the National Forest before starting out on foot so he could get further away from the trappings of civilization that encroached upon the wilderness. Every little bump jarred his shoulder. By the time he reached the highway, Colby knew that he wasn’t going to be able to take care of this by himself.
It only took Colby a moment to decide who to call. He was already driving one-handed, so getting his cell phone out and pressing the speed dial for David wasn’t as easy as it sounded. He swore when it went to voice mail. He couldn’t just leave a message, since he had no idea where David was, or if he’d be able to get away.
Colby dropped the phone into his lap and concentrated on driving, trying not to think about the ache in his shoulder. David might not be readily available, but Colby still needed help. Sighing, he took control of the wheel with the fingers of his injured arm and his right knee, then picked the phone back up from his lap. He pressed the speed dial for Don and prayed that it didn’t roll over to voice mail.
“Eppes.”
Colby was caught off guard by the fact that Don had actually answered, and it took him a moment to say, “Don?”
“Hey, Colby, what’re you doing calling in on your day off?”
Colby could hear the smile in Don’s voice, which somehow made this even harder. He decided to postpone having to ask Don for a favor by seeing if he could maybe somehow still reach David. He said, “Hey, Don, I, uh, need to talk to David, is he around?”
“No, Liz pinged him, so he’s filling in over there. Why, what’s up?”
It had been a longshot, but Colby was still disappointed. He’d called Don because he trusted him, but their situation, with Don being his boss, was a little different than his relationship with David. Plus, he and David had taken the time to work things out, and, after keeping it to himself for so long, Colby had been pretty certain that he could trust David with his secret. Well, there was nothing for it; at this point he didn’t have a choice.
“Oh, okay. Well, I, um, I need some help, Don.”
“What’s wrong?”
Don’s tone went from jovial to dead serious and Colby could almost see Don sitting up and paying more attention.
“Listen, I need a friend, Don, not an FBI agent, a friend, so if you can’t do that, can’t leave that behind, then I’ll think of something else,” Colby said, even though he had no idea who he’d call if Don wouldn’t help him.
“Where are you, Colby?”
“I just got off the highway; I should be at my apartment in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
Don sounded like he was already on the move.
“Colby?”
“Yeah?” Colby said, almost sobbing it out in relief.
“Are you okay?”
“I will be. Hurry, okay?”
Colby jolted awake when Don knocked on his window, and then grimaced when the movement sent a lance of pain through his shoulder. He reached across his body with his right arm and opened the door.
“Jesus Christ, Colby, what the hell happened to you?”
“Just get me upstairs. Please.”
Colby couldn’t hold back the moan as Don helped him slide out of the truck, then maneuvered him around so he could get his shoulder under Colby’s good arm. They managed to get up to Colby’s apartment without running into any of his neighbors, and Don hadn’t asked any more questions, though Colby could tell that he was dying to.
Don got Colby into the kitchen and lowered into one of the chairs. “Med kit’s under the sink in the bathroom.”
“You gonna be all right?”
Colby nodded, and then Don disappeared out the kitchen door. Colby took deep, slow breaths; in through his mouth, out through his nose. He heard Don’s footsteps moving away down the hall, heard the cabinet door open and close, then footsteps as he returned to the kitchen.
Don didn’t say anything as he set the retrofitted tackle box on the kitchen table and opened it. Colby had it stuffed with everything from gauze and iodine to knee wraps and ice packs to needle and thread. He knew from experience that the so-called first aid kits sold in stores were only good for the smallest injuries, cuts and bug bites, and so had created his own.
“I’ll try to be careful,” Don said.
“I know.” Just like he knew that it didn’t matter how careful Don tried to be, it was still gonna hurt like hell.
“What happened?” Don asked as he started picking at the knot.
“Had an accident while I was hiking,” Colby said through gritted teeth.
“You should’ve gone straight to the hospital.”
“Couldn’t.”
Colby tried to keep breathing through the pain as Don unwrapped the makeshift bandage and removed the blood soaked packing.
“Fuck, Colby, this is a gunshot wound!”
“I know.” Colby moaned when Don prodded the wound. “It was a through and through.”
“Someone shot you while you were out hiking?”
“It was an accident,” Colby repeated. It was partially true; the hunter had hit what he was aiming at, he just hadn’t realized that his prey was human.
“Damn it, Colby, you need to report this to the authorities,” Don argued even as he set about cleaning the wound.
“Can’t.”
“I can’t cover this up.”
Colby grabbed Don’s hand. “Then go. Now. I’ll finish.”
Don shook Colby’s hand off. “Don’t be an ass.”
Don finished cleaning Colby’s shoulder in silence. He packed it with antibiotic ointment and gauze, re-bandaged it, and then stood back. “You probably need stitches.” He sighed. “Can you at least tell me how this happened?”
Colby shook his head, but he was so tired from having to keep it together during the interminable walk back to his truck, his attempt to stop the bleeding, the drive back to LA, and then making sure he didn’t give anything away to Don, he wasn’t sure if it was actually moving or not. “I was accidently shot while I was hiking in the forest. I can’t say more than that, I’m sorry. Please believe me, I would tell you if I could.”
“Here.”
Don held out a pill and a glass of water. Colby hadn’t even heard him get either, which meant he was in worse shape than he’d thought. He took them without complaint, happy to be rid of the pain.
“Okay, I’m good now,” Colby said, hoping to get rid of Don before he did anything embarrassing. “Thanks.”
Colby woke to the soothing sensation of someone stroking his head behind his ears, every few strokes going down his neck before returning to rub his ears. It felt wonderful. He purred and rolled to his back to stretch, then yelped and whined as he was reminded of the gunshot wound in his shoulder.
“Careful,” Don said softly.
That was when Colby realized that he’d shifted in his sleep and was lying with his head in Don’s lap. Colby froze.
The hand on his head didn’t stop petting him.
“I take it this is why you couldn’t tell me what happened out there?”
Colby wondered if he could get away with pretending that he hadn’t heard Don’s question, or didn’t understand it in this form.
“I know you’re awake and can hear me.”
Probably not.
Colby carefully rolled back to his side, then tilted his head back and looked at Don.
“So, what happened, some hunter thought he’d bag himself a big cat?”
Colby sighed, and then allowed himself to shift back. Shifting didn’t hurt, but it felt like his body was being stretched out like taffy, and then getting stuffed back into its proper shape. As soon as he’d shifted back, Colby rolled to a sitting position and swung his legs over the edge of the bed so that he was sitting up with his back to Don.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “I’d hoped you’d be gone before I shifted.”
“You shifted in your sleep,” Don said. “I was on the phone with Nikki, checking in and letting her know that I’d be out of the office for the rest of the day, watching you sleep, and then suddenly, you shimmered, and then you were gone and a big cat lay on your bed.
“Yeah, well . . . sorry if I scared you.”
“You didn’t scare me, and I don’t want you to be sorry, Colby. I just want to understand. About what happened, I mean.”
Now that Don knew about him, and hadn’t freaked out, Colby figured the least he could do was tell him what had happened out in the forest.
“Got shot by a hunter,” Colby said, almost embarrassed. He still couldn’t believe he hadn’t sensed the man long before he’d felt the hot sting of the bullet tearing through his shoulder.
“And you couldn’t go to the hospital because . . . ?”
“Because when they call the police, what am I gonna say, that I got shot by a hunter? And if they find him, he’s going to say he shot at a mountain lion and there was no one else around, and even if they believe me, he’s going to get charged with shooting a human when he thought he was shooting an animal, even if it’s just assault, or something, and he’ll keep insisting that there were no humans around, and if he insists long enough, and loudly enough, people might start asking questions . . . .”
“Okay, okay, take a breath.”
Somewhere during his rant, Don had slid across the bed and started rubbing Colby’s back. Colby took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Sorry.”
“No, no, I get it, you’ve got to think of all the consequences.” Don paused. “So maybe next time you shouldn’t go out alone.”
“Sometimes I just need to get out someplace where I can run, and no one here knows. Knew.” Colby shook his head. “I just . . . it’s not something you can just blurt out, you know?”
“Yeah, well, somebody knows now, and you’re not going off alone again.”
When Colby didn’t respond to that right away, Don added, “I can make it an order, if you want.”
Colby snorted.
Don squeezed Colby’s good shoulder. “Let me check your wound; the bandage got a little screwed up when you, uh, changed.”
“Shifted,” Colby automatically corrected. “And it’s fine.”
“Let me check anyway.”
Colby rolled his eyes but let Don unwrap the bandage.
“I saw that.”
Colby laughed, which made his shoulder ache a little bit. “Ow.”
“Don’t laugh,” Don warned softly, which only made Colby laugh again.
“Sorry, man, I’m feeling a little punchy.”
“Yeah, well, getting shot and being on painkillers‘ll do that to you.”
Or relief, Colby though. Relief could do that to you, too. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders, being able to share who he was, who he really was, with someone.
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For not freaking out.”
“Yeah, well, talk to me tomorrow about that.”
“Yeah.”
When Don had carefully pulled the gauze away from the wound, he looked at it closely, then said, “It’s already started healing.”
“Yeah. I, uh, heal better in my other form. I figured I’d shift as soon as I was knocked out; I’d just hoped you’d be gone before it happened.”
Don re-wrapped the bandage around Colby’s shoulder. When he was done, he left his hand laying on Colby’s biceps, below the strip of gauze. “You’re probably hungry.”
Colby was surprised to realize that he was. “Yeah, actually, I guess I am.”
“What are you in the mood for? If you’ve got something simple in the cupboard, like soup, I can heat that up, or we can order out.”
“You don’t need to babysit me, Don.”
“Just answer the question, Colby,” Don said.
“Soup’s fine. I got some bread from the bakery we can heat up to go with it, as long as it’s still good.”
“Sounds good. I’ll go get that started, then. You should get dressed.”
Colby felt the blood rush to his skin. “Yeah,” he said, making a point not to look down, where he knew his body had reacted to Don’s nearness, his touch, “I’ll do that.”
“Since we’re revealing secrets today, tell me something before I go do the soup. Is that a reaction to me, or just to the situation?”
“I don’t recall you revealing any secrets today,” Colby said, stalling, the flush getting deeper.
“Okay, yeah, that’s true. My turn, then.” Don took a deep breath, then said, “I want it to be for me.”
Colby didn’t know what to say to that. He could probably tell the truth, and then blame the painkillers if things went south.
“All right, wait, I know what you’re going to say, we’re even now. You’re right, so I’ll go again. I’m glad you called me today.”
“Oh. I . . . . Well, I’m glad that you’re glad,” Colby said. “And, uh . . . .”
“Too much,” Don said, “or bad timing, or both. Look, I’m sorry. I’ll just go heat up that soup for you.”
Don started to climb off the bed; Colby reached round with his good hand and grabbed Don’s arm. He waited until Don’s eyes met his, then said, “You.”
“Oh.” Don smiled. “Well, good.”
“Is it?”
Don frowned, and Colby continued. “I mean, with work and . . . everything, it’s complicated.”
Don pressed a kiss to Colby’s lips. “Most good things are,” he said, and this time when he climbed off the bed, Colby let him go.
Alone, he thought about how easy this had been, telling Don about his shifting abilities and admitting that he had feelings for Don. Maybe, he thought, it was just that easy with the right person. When the goose bumps got too large to ignore, Colby finally got up and found a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt, then padded out to the kitchen where Don was making him -- them, making them -- something to eat.
They ate in the living room, the television tuned to the highlights on ESPN. The soup and warm bread hit the spot, and when Don took the dishes out to the kitchen, telling Colby that he’d better stay on the couch and rest or Don would put him on desk duty for a week, Colby just smiled and let himself sink into the couch.
Colby slowly drifted towards sleep, the sounds of Don in his kitchen and the voices droning on the television his lullaby. He felt Don’s hand in his hair, and then Don knelt beside the couch and said, “Are you okay like this, or do you need to, uh, shift? You said you heal better in that form.”
Don was right, Colby did need to shift, and if he didn’t do it now, his body would do it for him after he’d fallen asleep. Don helped him stand and take his clothes off, and while it felt nice to have Don’s hands on his skin, Colby didn’t have it in him right then for it to be more than pleasant.
“Here, before you shift.”
Don picked up the pill and glass of water he’d set on the coffee table before kneeling beside Colby, and Colby obediently took both from him.
Colby sat on the couch before he shifted, then sprawled out, leaving just enough room for Don in the corner. Colby stared at him, and Don took the hint. He sat down, bringing the remote with him. Don put his feet up on the coffee table and Colby dropped his head into Don’s lap.
Don petted behind his ears and Colby purred happily. Just before he fell asleep, Colby heard Don say, “I always wanted a cat,” then laugh when Colby growled at him, the menacing effect ruined by the way he stretched and purred under Don’s hand.
The End
