Belle Morte Bites (Belle Morte 4.3)

Birthday Boy: Part Two

Gideon

Jason started to snore. He didn't often, but Gideon wasn't surprised, considering he smelled like he'd been swimming in a brewery. He rolled Jason onto his side and pulled the covers up around him, and Jason mumbled and burrowed deeper into his pillow. His right arm was marked with admittance stamps from the various places he must have visited tonight, and Gideon felt a brief pang that he couldn't have spent the night with his fiancé, celebrating.

Technically, he could have gone, even though vampires couldn't drink alcohol, but he'd thought it would be good for Jason to spend some time with his human friends. Gideon always missed him, though. It felt like his very essence, every single part of himself, was tangled up with Jason, and when Jason was away, nothing felt quite right.

Gideon climbed into bed on the opposite side, and ran his thumb along Jason's cheek. "I'm glad you had a good birthday," he whispered, even though Jason couldn't hear him. "But you're going to have the worst hangover of your life when you wake up."

Leaning over, he kissed Jason's forehead. At least Gideon was here to take care of him.

The sound of soft groaning woke him. All the windows in Belle Morte were covered with UV-blocking shades, but a glance at the clock on Gideon's nightstand told him it was 11.a.m. Jason had managed a solid seven hours sleep, but, judging from the sad noises coming from his fiancé, it hadn't done him much good.

Gideon rolled over, careful not to jolt Jason.

"Good morning," he said.

Jason had pulled the covers up until they covered most of his face. His eyes were still exposed, and they looked mournfully up at Gideon.

"This isn't a good morning," he grumbled.

"How do you feel?"

Jason closed his eyes and sighed. "Like someone's repeatedly taking a sledgehammer to my skull. What the hell did I drink last night?"

"Everything?" Gideon helpfully offered.

Jason groaned again.

Gideon climbed out of bed. He'd anticipated this – apparently twenty-firsts were now considered an important milestone – and had prepared accordingly. He filled a glass with water from their en suite and brought it to Jason's side of the bed.

"Can you sit up?" he said.

Jason managed, stealing Gideon's pillow, so he could prop himself up. His face was pale, his blond hair a mess.

"What's that?" he said, looking at the paper packet in Gideon's hand.

"Rehydration sachet. Roux recommended them. Hopefully they'll make you feel better." He tore open the packet and emptied the contents into the glass of water, stirring them with the spoon he'd brought up from the kitchen last night. "Drink this," he commanded, pushing the glass into Jason's hand, "and take two of these." He popped two painkillers out of their blister packs and put them in Jason's other hand.

Jason mustered a shaky smile. "It's almost like you knew I was going to come home a drunken wreck."

Gideon smiled a little. "I prepared for the worst case scenario."

"Oh, this is far from the worst case scenario," Jason said, sipping his water. "That would be you having to carry me to the bathroom so I can throw my guts up."