Master, Master {ManxMan} {BDSM}

Epilogue

10-14-17

{Epilogue}

"What am I going to do, Jay?" Christian questions in a panic. I look away from my paperwork, that I admittedly wasn't paying much attention to anyway, instead focusing on my sour stomach. I meet his mint eyes and resist the light chuckle bubbling in my stomach.

I want to tell him that he'll be fine, his brother isn't some communist ruler that's going to go over his apartment with a fine tooth comb. I'm sure he'll be a little brat, but then again, he always is. The saddest part is I know why Ezekiel is such a brat to Christian, and it isn't because he hates him, far from it actually. Christian is completely oblivious though, of course.

"I've said this at least a dozen times, but I'll say it again in case you didn't hear me all those times. You will be fine, Chris, if he gets too much for you to handle then come over to my place. Dave has been complaining about you not coming over enough lately anyway." I explain. He sighs and shakes his head.

"Whatever," he mumbles and pushes himself into his paperwork. I can't very well complain about him doing that though, he has a lot more paperwork since he got promoted a few months after his graduation. He complains about it to David almost every time he comes over, Dave just laughs it off but comforts him with sweets nonetheless. The thought of David's homemade Danishes makes me hungry, but as soon as I feel the slightest hunger I'm reminded of my upset stomach.

The latest cocktail they have me on makes me severely nauseous, to attempt to counteract that I take ranitidine, coupled with ant-acids. It doesn't always work though, there are times when it doesn't and I have to stay home sick, bedridden. Those are the times Christian takes over here while David cancels all he has to do that day to stay with me and insure I'm okay at all times.

Today was going to be one of those days, but I forced myself to come. I don't want this disease to rule my life, I don't want my partner to have to drop everything anytime I feel sick. I must have stopped paying attention because Christian clears his throat, staring at me with worry swirling in his green eyes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, feeling a little nauseous today." I answer. He looks like he wants to say something but holds his tongue because he knows there's no point in apologizing, he has half a dozen times.

We're both silent after that and continue our paperwork until the end of the day. And thank god it is Friday because if I feel this sick today I know it'll be worse tomorrow, I doubt I'd be able to push myself to go to work.

"I'll see you later, Chris, call me anytime you need. And remember, our door is always open." He nods with a smile and when we leave the office he gives me a hug.

"Don't call me Chris, but I'll call you. See you later," he says and with that he goes to his white Mustang and drives off. I hop into my large SUV and head home.

When I get there Dave is cooking up something in the kitchen from the smell of it. I drop my coat and briefcase by the door, pulling off my shoes before I head to the kitchen. I stagger slightly from the pain in my stomach, using the wall as support for a brief minute before I continue into the kitchen.

Like I thought, Dave is cooking, with a weird music he calls nerdcore playing in the background while he stirs something in a pot. I sneak up behind him and hug him. He doesn't seem startled, just glances over his shoulder with a smile, it drops as soon as he sees my face though.

"What? My face that disappointing to you?" I laugh. He turns around to face me fully, letting the soup in the pot boil, from the smell of it, it's a concoction of his own that's loaded with vitamin c for my immune system. It has kale, broccoli, along with red and green peppers. I'm not a huge fan of kale but thankfully Dave makes it nearly undetectable in the soup.