Worth a Thousand Words (13 page)

When Adrien rolled into the room smiling up at the hunky blond godling steering his bed, looking only a little pale and a lot interested, a hot shaft of fear painted over with a fine veneer of acid green jealousy hit Devon square in the chest. He lost the last bit of military bearing—hell the last shred of dignity of any sort he had. Before Devon knew had any idea what he intended to do, his body had already reacted to the perceived threat and he was half out of his bed.

Adrien’s sweet, lush little mouth dropped into a perfect o-shape, his face drained of color, and he burst into noisy, racking sobs intermixed with whimpers of pain. The godling sneered at Devon.

Devon’s vision narrowed to the man’s face, and everything fell into the perfect scatter-shot slow-time were he could really almost be in two places at once. He leapt toward the man but suddenly Carlos was in the way, thick arms wrapped tight around him like a burly, sentient tree with enormous arms. His low, mean whisper burned its way into Devon’s ear.

“Think. Think for just a second, pendejo. He will never forget this moment. What you say next will always carry weight in anything you do together.”

Heart slamming against his ribs, legs shaking and a sudden sweat popping up along his back, Devon allowed Carlos to push him back onto the bed. Devon squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them, Carlos held his gaze for less than fifteen seconds. He grunted, stepping to the side. Adrien was still crying, but silently now. The nurse raised the head of his bed, wedged a pillow carefully against his side below the huge tube sticking out of him and shot Devon a murderous glare. Devon ignored him, focusing in on Adrien.

“I-I don’t even remember what happened. I— Aye, Dios—I almost lost you, and I don’t even remember.”
Devon’s voice cracked as he spoke, and he was suddenly on his feet again, one hand latched onto the siderail of his bed. The other hand stretched out toward Adrien, trembling as it hung there in mid-air. Devon watched it shake, every fiber of his being yearning toward his young lover.
“I don’t remember.”
Devon lurched forward as he uttered the last sentence, willing his damned traitorous legs to hold him up. His knees shook, threatening to spill him to the floor again with his bare ass hanging out for the sneering blond godling to mock. Carlos Jimenez took two quick steps, slipped his arm around Devon’s waist and murmured two more barely audible sentences.
“The man who is unafraid to show that losing my son would destroy him, the one who is driven to lash out in anger but instead shows the courage to hand my son his heart? This is a man I would consider worthy of my Adrien.”
Turning his head to the man helping him, Devon gave up the crumbs of his pride as well.
“Please. Help me to touch him without hurting him.” He didn’t try to steady his voice, instead pouring all his energy into convincing Carlos Jimenez that he was sincere in both his need and his intent. Carlos grunted, and half carried him over to Adrien’s bed, gesturing for the nurse—they were close enough for Devon to read his name tag now—to move.
Devon reached forward with that same shaking hand again. “I’m sorry, baby. I—Dios mio—I cannot lose you when I have just realized I love you. Please. You have to take more care. I will not survive well without you, mi Corazon.”

Adrien gasped. All the other sounds in the room faded away. “You love me?”
Waiting for Devon to speak, Adrien felt cocooned in a perfect silence that only held room enough for the two of them. Well, except for the annoying beeping of his I.V. pump. Adrien had only been listening to it for about hour, and he was ready to find a big hammer and smash the thing to bits. Devon opened his mouth to answer, his eyes suspiciously hot and wet looking, and the damn thing started beeping like crazy.
Adrien looked over at John in total exasperation. “Oh my god, John, please make that damn thing shut the fuck up. We’re totally trying to have a moment here, and I’m losing that loving feeling, if you know what I mean? Can’t you put the damn pump into stealth mode or something?”
John’s jaw dropped. Devon snorted, and Carlos gave a full on belly laugh before he spoke. “Aye, Dios, Adrien, you will never change. And now I know you will be okay.”
Adrien nodded. “So true… it’s a good thing I like being me. Put him right here where I can touch him, Papa.”
Carlos laughed again. “No, mijo—I’ll hold him up for you, and then I’ll put him back in his bed so he doesn’t fall down. If you are very good, and do what the nurses tell you, I’ll push you close enough to hold hands though.”
A warm bubble of happiness rose up in Adrien’s chest. “That sounds fine, Papa. Bring him close enough for me to kiss. He’s gonna be too mad to kiss me for a while after I tell him why I did it.”
Carlos wrapped one of his thick arms around Devon’s waist. John threw his hands in the air, and then pointed at the elder Jimenez. “Tell your wife she owes me big for this one. I’m going to give report. Do not put any pressure on that tubing in his side, and by all you hold holy, don’t cough on, sneeze on, or in any manner touch his surgical incisions. And don’t touch any part of the tubing. Oh, and he has a catheter in, so don’t get any bright ideas about helping him to the bathroom.”
Shaking his head, John stomped from the room. As he pulled the door shut, Adrien caught a wistful look on his face. Devon leaned down, brushing his lips over Adrien’s.
“Brat, have you forgotten that I especially like to kiss you silent when I am angry with you?”
Adrien shivered. He had forgotten. “Oh. I love you too. I didn’t think I’d be saying it with a tube sticking out of my dick, but—I do. I love you.”
Devon grinned at him. “So tell me why I’m going to be angry?”
Adrien swallowed hard. “I—practical wisdom, you know? I knew he might hurt me, but I was pretty sure he was gonna kill you and Michael if I didn’t stop him. And— Devon, he was so lost. And he didn’t mean for me to get hurt. He talked to the 911 dispatcher and everything. He saved my life. I want him to see Mrs. Simpson. I think she could help him, you know?”
Devon stared down at him with an inscrutable look on his face for two long beats of Adrien’s heart.
“You were right, baby. I’m so pissed I don’t trust myself to kiss you right now. You went into my apartment knowing Dieterman was going to hurt you? Dammit, Adrien, that’s what the police are for.”
Adrien’s lips curled up in a tiny smile. “I love you too, you big, surly bastard. You’re welcome for my saving possibly you, and definitely Michael from brain surgery by totally whacked out ex-soldier with six weeks of medical training.”
Devon grunted, snarled, and pressed a nearly bruising kiss on Adrien’s lips. “When you are better—”
Adrien laughed—for the same one and a half seconds, and then whimpered as he pressed the pillow John had braced against his side harder against himself. “Oh. Oh, shit that hurts.”
Carlos lifted Devon away, man-handling him over to his bed and easing him into a sitting position on the side. He lifted Devon’s legs up onto the bed. Giving them both what Adrien called the paternal glare of doom he barked out an order.
“Do not ever—on pain of death—let Lynn know I was in here when Adrien told you he loved you. She might forgiveyou, Devon, but I’ll be sleeping on the sofa for the rest of our marriage if she finds out I heard you say it first, Adrien. Are we clear?”
Devon arched an eyebrow at Carlos. Adrien bit his lip hard, pushed the pillow tight to his side and tried very hard not to do more than giggle very faintly. Carlos glared at him again, and then stomped out in much the same manner John had.
Adrien looked across the expanse of floor between him and Devon. His giggles softened into a smile. Devon smiled back. Smoothing a hand over his head, he looked down.
“I’m seeing Mrs. Simpson. As—you know, as a counselor. She’s good. If anyone could help Dieterman, I think maybe she could.”
When he looked back up, all his fiery pride banked and a quiet vulnerability shining his night dark eyes, Adrien let loose with the high wattage grin he knew was his second best weapon.
“I really do love you.”
Devon growled at him. “Just wait. I am so going to spank your ass for this.”
Adrien just grinned. “Promises, oh, such sweet promises.”

The day after he’d been released, Devon had stalked back into Adrien’s hospital room smelling of cold and Drakkar. Leaning over the bed, he’d put one of his big hands on Adrien’s throat and used his other hand to grip Adrien’s jaw, tipping his face up and positioning him at the exact angle Devon wanted him.

Devon had growled out, “Mine.” Then his lips crashed down on Adrien’s, hot and demanding. His tongue thrust into Adrien’s mouth, sliding alongside Adrien’s teasingly. He pressed with the hand at Adrien’s throat, keeping him still. Every thought fled, and all Adrien knew for several long glorious moments was the taste of cocoa and mint and Devon.

When Devon let him surface again for air, Adrien lay panting. Drawing in a deep breath caused him to cough, and Adrien had a split-second of panic, thinking he was about to revisit the world of excruciating pain that coughing without bracing for the ordeal caused. But Devon’s hand had already moved from Adrien’s chin to his side, and had the pillow braced against him. He also had a wicked smirk on his face.
“Nurse Janice tells me you’re skipping your deep

breathing and coughing exercises.”
Sneaky bastdado.
Adrien stuck his tongue out. Devon laughed at him,

his dark eyes glinting with mischief.
“I guess I’m still going to need to keep a close eye
on you. I better just go ahead and move in with you after
all.”
Devon’s voice went all deep and silky, the way
Adrien had only ever heard him sound when they were in
bed together and Devon was balls-deep inside him. Adrien pulled in a fast, shallow breath. “Really?” Devon’s eyes actually glittered with emotion as he
nodded his affirmation. Adrien reached up, laying his hand
on the sexy as sin stubble darkening Devon’s jaw. “Oh. Oh, yes, please. I’d like that very much.” Devon smiled, tilting his head to one side and
looking at Adrien through his eyelashes. Adrien was sure
that look had to be illegal, because right then he would do
anything in the world Devon asked him to. Nurse Janice
came in then. Devon smiled at her the same way, asking
her to make it possible for him to sleep in the room with
Adrien, and when she hustled out, flustered and flushed,
Devon winked at Adrien. Less than an hour later an aide wheeled in a recliner chair that folded down into a narrow bed. He was as susceptible to Devon’s charm as everyone else seemed to be, and ended up making two more trips to bring Devon bedding and a soft pillow that was better than the one on Adrien’s bed. When the aide left for the final time, Devon traded Adrien’s flat pillow for his fluffy one and carefully pushed the chair next to the bed. He put the foot rest up, reached through the side-rails for Adrien’s
hand and laid his head against the high back of the chair. His long, thick lashes fluttered down to touch his
dangerously tempting cheekbones, and then fluttered up
one last time. “Mine. Say it for me, Adrien.”
Adrien’s breath caught in his chest. “Yours. Oh,
hell, yeah, all yours, Devon.”
Devon’s eyes closed again. “Remind me to tell
Michael I still owe him that favor. Cause meeting you is the
best thing that ever happened to me.”
Devon stayed every single night after that, only
going home to shower and change clothes, and once to see
Mrs. Simpson. She rescheduled the rest of his appointments
for early morning when he’d have to be gone anyway, or
early evening when another family member could sit with
Adrien. Devon told Adrien his boss had fudged a little
paperwork and given him family medical leave.
Adrien quickly braced his side and laughed. “What
did you do, flutter those Soto lashes at him?”
Devon kissed him quiet.
A few days later, Christmas Eve found room 514
packed with a mixed bag of Jimenez, Soto and Rose family
members. Andy and the rest of the “Rescue Twinks” as
they’d taken to calling themselves even crowded in for a
half an hour, before they took off to finally enjoy Andy’s
long awaited Christmas Costume Party. Andy fluttered in
with a long coat belted tightly around his waist, the most
glittery and dramatic eye makeup Adrien had ever seen him
in, and slits cut into the back of his coat for a sheer,
sparking pair of wings that stirred restlessly. Everyone was

fascinated, begging to know how he’d gotten them to move
so realistically.
Andy shot a blushing look out of the corner of his
eyes toward Michael. “M-motors. They have little motors
in them.”
Adrien caught Michael glancing down with a smirk
on his face. When he looked back up, his face was carefully
blank. Adrien quickly switched his gaze to Devon. They’d
taken his chest tube out yesterday, and Devon perched
carefully on that side of Adrien’s bed. If he stayed infection
free, he’d likely get released a day or two after Christmas. Devon was still moving in, but not because of any imagined stalker. Nope. Devon was moving in because they belonged together. Just like peanut butter, raisin and honey sandwiches. Holding tight to Devon’s hand, Adrien listened to the hum of his friends and family around him, and promised his Twinks he’d make the next Costume bash in
February.
After everyone left, Devon gave Adrien his
customary goodnight kiss. With one hand, he lightly
encircled the front of Adrien’s throat. Devon’s palm settled
heavily on Adrien’s collarbones and his other hand grasped
Adrien’s chin and tipped his head to the perfect angle. Then
Devon growled out Adrien’s absolute favorite word, and it
was like a Fourth of July fireworks show in Washington
D.C., a New Year’s Eve ball-drop in Time’s Square and
Mardi-Gras in New Orleans all rolled into one.
“Mine.”