The hospital was bathed in the soft glow of artificial lights, and the halls were quieter now, save for the faint echoes of footsteps from a passing nurse or the distant hum of equipment. Most of the patients were either asleep or resting, leaving the hospital to settle into a stillness that felt heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions.
Jacob had told himself he would leave Brinch alone that night. He'd convinced himself that tomorrow would be enough to show Brinch he cared, that he was there for him—fully. But as the hours passed and the anticipation of surgery hung over them like a storm cloud, Jacob found himself standing outside Brinch's room again. This time, though, the door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling out from within.
He couldn't stay away. He knew it was wrong to be here, to sneak in, to cross a line when Brinch was so vulnerable. But the pull to be close to him, to just be with him before the surgery, was stronger than his better judgment.
With a quiet sigh, Jacob pushed the door open just enough to slip inside. The room was dark except for the soft light from the hallway and the faint glow of Brinch's IV drip. He was lying in bed, still awake, his eyes closed but his brow furrowed in that familiar tension Jacob had come to recognize. Despite the painkillers, despite the exhaustion, Brinch was restless. Jacob could see it, feel it in the air between them. The man was so much stronger than he gave himself credit for, but even strength couldn't fight the fear that gripped him tonight.
Jacob stepped in quietly, closing the door softly behind him. His heart beat faster than it should have, the excitement of the moment coursing through his veins. He didn't know what exactly he wanted from this, only that something inside him longed to be closer to Brinch before everything changed tomorrow.
"Brinch?" Jacob whispered, his voice low and careful, as though he feared disturbing the fragile moment.
Brinch's eyes fluttered open, and for a brief second, Jacob saw that flicker of surprise, of uncertainty, before Brinch's face softened. His lips curved into a faint, tired smile.
"Jacob?" Brinch's voice was raspy, a little hoarse from the painkillers, but there was a warmth in it that sent a jolt through Jacob's chest. "What are you doing here?"
Jacob shrugged, trying to appear casual, though his heart was pounding. "I couldn't sleep. Thought I'd check on you. You know, the usual doctor stuff," he added with a teasing smile, though the smile didn't reach his eyes.
Brinch raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. His gaze flickered over Jacob's face, studying him with an intensity that made the air between them thicken. Then, as if surrendering to the moment, Brinch moved slightly, adjusting his position on the bed.
"Guess I'm just nervous about tomorrow," Brinch admitted quietly, his voice almost too soft to hear. "It's a big surgery."
Jacob nodded, stepping a little closer to the bed, feeling the pull of Brinch's presence like an invisible thread. The vulnerability in Brinch's voice, the quiet way he confessed his fears, made something twist inside Jacob. The man was about to go through a major procedure, and yet here he was, asking for comfort, asking for something more that Jacob wasn't sure he could give. But he wanted to—wanted to be there for him in a way that was deeper than simple compassion.
"I know," Jacob said softly, his voice lower now. "I know you're scared, but you're stronger than you think. You're gonna make it through this."
Brinch looked up at him, his eyes dark in the dim light, and something passed between them. A long moment of silence stretched, and Jacob could feel it—this undeniable connection, this tension that neither of them had acknowledged until now.
For a split second, the air felt charged, like electricity gathering between them. Without thinking, Jacob reached out, his hand resting lightly on the edge of Brinch's bed. It was an innocent gesture, or so he tried to convince himself, but the moment his fingers brushed against the sheet where Brinch's hand lay, something ignited between them.
Brinch's gaze dropped to Jacob's hand, and his breath hitched slightly. He didn't pull away, and for a moment, neither did Jacob. There was a quiet understanding between them now, unspoken but clear—this was not just a friendly visit. There was more here, something lingering just below the surface that neither of them had dared confront until now.
Jacob leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you want me to stay?" he asked, his hand hovering near Brinch's, as though waiting for permission.
Brinch's eyes flickered up to meet Jacob's, searching his face, as if weighing the words, the situation. A brief flash of hesitation crossed his features, but then he nodded, just barely.
"I'm... I'm not sure what I want," Brinch admitted, his voice low, vulnerable. His hand shifted beneath the blanket, and Jacob felt a surge of heat in his chest as Brinch's fingers brushed against his. It was a light touch, hesitant, but it sent a shiver of electricity up Jacob's spine.
Jacob didn't need any more encouragement. With a quiet exhale, he reached out, his fingers gently curling around Brinch's hand. Their palms met, warm and slightly clammy, and Jacob squeezed lightly, offering what little comfort he could give. The contact between them was simple, but it felt like more than just a touch. It was a shared moment, an acknowledgment of the tension that had been building between them for days, an understanding of the unspoken desire that simmered just beneath the surface.
Brinch didn't pull away, and in fact, his grip on Jacob's hand tightened, pulling him just a little closer. Jacob moved instinctively, leaning down as if to kiss him, but before he could make the move, Brinch's eyes flashed with uncertainty, and he pulled back slightly.
"I... I don't know if I'm ready for this," Brinch confessed, his voice raw, full of vulnerability. "Everything's been moving so fast..."
Jacob's heart softened, and he took a small step back, releasing Brinch's hand but not breaking their connection entirely. "Hey," Jacob whispered, his thumb brushing over Brinch's wrist in a calming motion. "It's okay. I'm not going anywhere."
The room was still and quiet, the soft beeping of the machines the only sound between them. Jacob knew that tomorrow would come with its own set of challenges, and he didn't want to complicate things more than they already were. But he also couldn't deny the chemistry between them, the undeniable pull that had been building ever since that first kiss.
And so, instead of leaning in for another kiss, Jacob simply stayed beside Brinch's bed, his hand resting gently on the edge of the mattress. They didn't say much more, but the silence between them felt different now—comforting, tender, filled with something deeper than just words.
After a long while, Brinch finally spoke, his voice quieter now, the vulnerability still evident but softened.
"Stay with me... just for a little while longer?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jacob nodded, his heart swelling in his chest. "Of course."
As he settled into the chair beside Brinch's bed, the room growing darker with each passing minute, he knew tomorrow would bring uncertainty. But for now, this—this moment—was all they had. And it was enough.
